#i stocked for a bit and after two hours i asked if i could go home. and she saod 'the manager just texted and said he wants you to clean

[bunnys-kisses]

Can I please get a tiramisu with a side of champagne with an innocent reader and Lando Norris, please. 🙏

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? read the menu! i love the idea of an innocent!reader, that's so cute. with a sugar daddy!lando!! i imagine him being so sweet but then being a little devil in the bedroom! i hope you love this <3

tiramisu ("my little slut to ruin") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, fluff, dom!lando, mean!lando (in the bedroom), doggy style, dirty talk (a little degrading), innocent!reader, big dick!lando

lando didn't like the word "sugar daddy", because that implied he was paying you for sex. in all honesty, he felt nervous the first time he had sex with you.

you were a virgin, and he was taking your virginity. not that he really put much stock in the concept of virginity, but he didn't want to ruin your first time. he remembered that he fingered you for what felt like hours because he didn't want to bruise you.

when he did that he said to you, "i know this is stupid to say. but, i'm sorry for having a big cock." he made sure that you were comfortable before he (gently) fucked you. he remembered anxiously waiting while you basked in the after glow of orgasm to get a rating of his performance.

(you gave it 10/10!, even if you were a little sore the next morning)

since then you had grown into knowing what you like and don't like. you were curious as you never had a partner prior and through trial, error and the usage of safe words. you both figured out what you both liked.

lando didn't like slapping you, unless it was on your ass. you didn't like having you hair pulled. you both liked lando ran his mouth, even when his words got more depraved. lando liked when you called him daddy and you liked when he wrapped both arms around you when he took you doggy style. and you both liked after care, regardless of how intense the situation got. you both found comfort in holding one another as you settled down.

so was it really paying for sex if you were both getting off to it and had an open conversation? probably not!

-

you two had come back from a day of shopping. when most thought about a sugar baby spending their daddy's money. it mostly meant expensive items like diamonds and gold.

but not you. when you were picking up a bulk pack of cotton panties and winced at the price (under 8€), while lando sent you back into the store to get a second pack.

"it's fine, my love." he said as he gave you cheek a little pinch, "they're cute. they have flowers on them." and then scanned the rest of your items when you were away. you were a terrible sugar baby in that regard.

he one time found you cutting out a coupon from the cereal box and when he asked you what was going on. you said, "save us 2 euros." as you cut up the cardboard.

lando found it endearing. you clearly knew how much he was making a year, he could afford spending the extra 2 euros on cereal. but, you wanted to earn your keep.

you put the reusable bag in the bedroom before you got out of your clothes for the day. which meant padding around in a baggy t-shirt and sleeping shorts. you had socks on that were pulled up to your calves, they were a little bit big on you which made you think they were landos.

but they were very comfy as you went back to the couch. you sat down and lando threw an arm around you. he had taken one of the popsicles you bought on your last shopping trip and when you sat beside him, he pointed it towards you..

you leaned over and put your mouth around it, you made a sweet noise at the coolness on your tongue. it was very erotic. you looked up at him and gave the icy treat another lick.

sometimes lando forgot how innocent you were. you didn't know what you were doing when you pulled away and giggled.

"that was really good." you said, "can i have some more?" before he could respond, you happily ate some more of it.

when you pulled away, you could see lando swallow. you asked, "is everything okay, lando?"

he leaned in and pressed a kiss on your lips. the kiss was a big hungry as he felt his cock stir in his pants. when he pulled away, "finish it."

you took it from him, but when you did. he snaked his hand down the front of your shorts and he invaded your space. you yelped a little but moaned when you felt his fingers grazed across your pussy.

you quickly ate the sweet treat before lando took the stick and tossed it over his shoulder before be pulled him into a tight kiss. his fingers continued to play with your pussy.

"you're my good girl, right? my little slut to ruin?" he asked to test the waters if you wanted to go forward with it. he could feel his erection in his loose shorts.

you looked very hot pressed against the leather couch. you nodded, "i'm always a good girl for you, daddy." when lando gave you room, you quickly made your way to the bedroom.

lando thought you were painfully innocent sometimes. the idea that he was teaching you how to make yourself feel good made pride surge in him. it was so cute watching your little behind as you made your way to the bedroom.

he practically tackled you to the bed and rubbed his aching clothed erection against your ass as he palmed your breasts through your shirt, his nose was in your hair.

"daddy!" you yelped.

"you're so good for me. i've taught you how to feel good." he groaned as he continued to rub up against you, "i still have so much to teach you, poor thing can't take all of my cock down her pretty throat. maybe i'll get you a nice pink collar when i train you."

you whined, your panties felt soaked by his closeness to you. his hefty words in your ears as you wiggled under him. you soon felt his hands go to the waistband on your shorts and yank them down.

he continued to rub his cock up against your panty clad ass, he needed his baby girl. it wasn't fair that there were still so many layers on you.

he gave you a little room and watched you undress as he did the same. he stood there, beautiful as ever with his hard cock on full display. once you were naked, he got back onto the bed as rubbed his cock up against your cute little hole.

"you're so pretty like this. on your hands and knees, shiny hole for me." he groaned as he guided his cock into your pussy, bottoming out into you. he held onto your hips and started to thrust.

it was true, you were painfully cute. the perfect baby girl for him, even if he couldn't have sex with you. being around you and your sweetness was more than enough for him.

once he got a steady pace, he then wrapped his arms around you middle as he moved against you. he pressed his cheek up against your back as he rutted against you. the slick sounds of sex paired with your noises filled the room.

lando whispered praises into your skin as he moved. his cock felt so good inside of you, his breathing was heavy as he kept his pace fast. he felt the roll of pleasure in his body and he groaned heavily against you.

his cock throbbed inside of you. your cunt felt like a dream. it made him hot all over. you were painfully cute, even when you were being split by his impressive size.

"please, daddy. that feels so good." you whined as you arched your back. you could feel the pull of him in your stomach. your brain felt mushy, fueled by pleasure as he moved against you.

lando groaned against your skin, "you're the perfect girl for me. i lucked out, fuck. you're so good for me. clipping coupons and letting me fuck your sweet pussy. i lucked out." he kissed your heated flesh.

"please daddy."

"don't worry. i'm not goin' anywhere. i'm not leaving behind something so perfect." he kissed then at your cheek and rested his chin on your shoulder as he fucked you heavily.

his words made you hot all over, he watched you claw at the covers as he continued to thrust into you. he could feel the sweat down his neck as he continued to move.

the pleasure swirled through him as he moved. it all felt so good, it made him painfully hard. your combined noises made him shudder, he knew he wasn't going to last long. and neither were you.

you quickly came with your head in the sheets, your back arched further. you felt your heartbeat in your ears as he continued to fuck you. it was a erotic sight, the two of you fucking in the comfort of your own home.

"my precious girl."

"mmm, daddy." you whined, basking in the post orgasmic feeling.

he clenched onto you and finished inside of you with a hard thrust. he'd make sure you weren't in pain by tomorrow. he slowed down his pace to a still before he kissed the back of your head and whispered that he loved you.

you laid flat on the bed and found comfort in the soft covers as you panted heavily. lando then curled you up in his arms. he spooned you from behind as he kissed at your neck. you were so painfully cute, even when blissed out from the intensity of sex. he kissed at the shell of your ear gently.

"how was that? did i hurt you?"

you held onto his forearms as he held you and replied, "no, no. everything is perfect." you pressed your back further up against you and smiled softly, "you spoil me."

he chuckled and gave you another kiss on the neck, "always. i'll always spoil my baby." he squeezed you a little tighter. that was a promise to you.

[gyuswhore]

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

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

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

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

or;

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

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

PLAYLIST: right here!

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

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

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

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

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

“Hey, it’s good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu. 

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

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

“Never knew you read.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And believe you instead?” 

Oh, you wish.

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

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

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

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

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

“How far are you with that one?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t. 

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

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

“Did you drive like this?” 

“Uh, no, I walked.”

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

“Wanted to see you.”

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

“Had to talk about the book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies. 

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

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

“It’s not about that.” 

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

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

“Better?”

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

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

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

“Easy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You hate living in peace.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts. 

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you doing here?” 

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

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

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

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

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

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

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

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

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

You really needed a new car. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had forgotten your book. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he uncomfortable with you? 

Was he avoiding you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s next week, isn’t it?” 

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

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

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?” 

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

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.” 

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

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.” 

“O-okay.” 

It’s silent. Painfully so. 

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

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

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

“Mingyu—“

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

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

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

He pauses. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you can’t. You can’t do it. 

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

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

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

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

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

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart. 

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you doing?”

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

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

“It’s not that!” you groan.

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

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

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

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

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

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

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

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

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

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

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits. 

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

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

“Seokmin!” you scream. 

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

“No, it’s not,” you grit. 

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

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

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

“I don’t want to go.”

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

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

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this. 

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

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

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

“Seok told me you were here too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back. 

And another

Then another. 

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

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

THE BEGINNING

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

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

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

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

You needed to leave. 

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

“Let’s go home.”

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

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

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

“Let me drop you off home.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?” 

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

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

“Nayeon’s” 

“Bullshit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise me you mean it,” you say. 

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Mingyu,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great.”

“Great?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you bring it with you?” 

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

“What the fuck?” you breathe out. 

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

“What?”

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

“I-”

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

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“We could do that right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so,” you reply.

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

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

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

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

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

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

“I love you more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs. 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly. 

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

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

He’s silent. 

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

No response. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love ya’” he giggles. 

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

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

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

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

“Hey!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“And I love you.”

[jingyuqn]

JIAOQIU DRABBLE

summary. herbalist reader x jiaoqiu tw. fem!reader, cursing, some pov changes, art by hoki11. (the lack of jiaoqiu fic is criminal), not proof read.

"What got you so happy, JIAOQIU?" The lacking general question her retainer. He seemed happier than usual, his smile seeming more genuine.

Said foxian tilt his head in faux confusion at his boss' question, "Mmh? Do I now?"

"Yes. And it's unnerving since your cooking. Don't tell me you added more spice?" The shadow guard frown at the thought. He only saw his colleague smile this widely when he tricked the food.

Jiaoqiu gasped. Clasping his heart, he put on a hurt face while sighing dramatically, "How could you! And here I thought we were friends. You truly wound me Moze..."

"Cut it out." Moze deadpanned while Feixiao could only laugh.

Well, the two of them were right. Jiaoqiu was indeed happier than usual, he thank the sweet lady he met earlier this evening. He ponders when he should meet her again. Perhaps he should bring along a gift or two.

JIAOQIU wanders along the streets of the Luofu in search of a herbs-selling shop nearby. He has been wandering for a few system hours now. Yet none sold the plant he so desperately need. He sighed in defeat, deciding to retreat for now. Maybe he would find it some other time.

That was how it should've gone.

Until his eyes caught onto a discreet shop. 'Herbs & Help'. It seemed like he missed out on one shop, Jiaoqiu was sceptical. He had been searching for awhile, leaving with more disappointment one after the other. But he suppose one more wouldn't hurt him.

Opening the door, the scent of herbs and spices welcomed him. His ears twitched at the sounds coming from the backdoor. Murmurs and curses could be faintly heard. He stopped at the counter filled with bags each containing different herbs. Jiaoqiu looked at the shelf presented in front of him, searching for the herb he needs.

"Fucking aeons, the back gets messier the more I go back to it—" the voice stops as the sight of the healer settles into the shop owner's mind. "Oh..Oh! Hello! Welcome, um, I'm y/n, how can I help you today?"

The woman looked dishevelled. Leaves sticking to her hair, dirt smeared her cheeks and her outfit. Nonetheless, Jiaoqiu smiles at the lady. "Hello, I'm looking for a herb—Goldenseal? I was wondering if you had any in stocks." Jiaoqiu waited for the expected 'No, sorry' or 'we ran out'.

"Oh! Goldenseal? I think I have some left in stock let me see." the young lady perked up at the familiar name, nodding at the gentleman before going back into the mess that is the storing room.

To say the foxian healer was surprised would be an understatement. To think a barely noticeable shop was the end of his endless search was a welcomed surprised.

The fox hummed as he looked around. The shop seemed well kept. The herbs looking to be of high quality, he was right to stop by.

Just as he was inspecting the plants, a loud crash echoed from the back.

A moment pass before Jiaoqiu asks, "Is everything alright back there? Do you need help?" More crashes were heard —with the young man wincing at every sound— before the lady comes back.

"Sorry. it's a bit of a mess back there. Here is your herb Mister, er.."

"JIAOQIU." the doctor smiled.

You blinked at the man. 'Jiaoqiu...' you noticed it before, but the man was very attractive. Embarrassment crept up your neck as you recalled the state you were in. Quickly and discreetly (though you failed at the second part.), you tried to tidy yourself up. If the man noticed, he didn't say a word about it.

"Right, Mister JIAOQIU. Here are your herbs, I added extra as an apology for the disastrous meeting." you nervously chuckled. Jiaoqiu chuckled in response, you were cute.

"Won't it be bad for your business? Giving out freebies just because of a first meeting?" he tilted his head, awaiting your answer.

Not if it's for a pretty man like you.

"Why thank you." his tail was wagging slightly, his ears twitching slightly.

Your eyes widen as the realization struck you. "I said that out loud, didn't I?" The nod from the foxian was all you needed to start digging up a hole to crawl into. You melted into the floor, heat rushing to your cheeks, you only let your eyes peeking out from below the counter. "The herbs will be 3000 credits please."

Jiaoqiu was amused at your state. You were honestly so adorable. With your soft voice and your eyes looking anywhere but his. He was interested in you. (Or well your reactions.)

He put down the credits, leaning over the counter so he was towering you in your crouched position. "Thank you for the herbs, you really saved me." He opened his eyes to stare at your own, the both of you shared a moment before he winked and stood tall once again,

"See you around, cutie." And with that he left (Though the wagging of his tail told you he left in a content state.).

"Fuck his voice was hot."

While you were melting behind the counter, JIAOQIU was already looking forward to the next time he'll visit your shop.

EXTRA ;

"So will you tell us why you were so happy earlier?" Feixiao questioned once more. Her curiosity wouldn't be sated until she learns the true reason for her retainer's giddiness. The foxian could only hum, his hands expectedly prepping the ingredients for the hot pot, a smile seemingly forever etched in his face. "Well for one, I found the herb I've been looking for," ("The ones you looked all over the Luofu and Yaoqing for?" Moze inquired. He received a nod in return.) "and I may have met a cutie who saved me the hassle of searching all over again." Moze and Feixiao exchanged glances. Seemed like their healer was infatuated with someone. If the still wagging tail was any more of an obvious sign

©—jingyuqn. do not repost, translate or copy my work. 2024.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was bruised, hungry and worn out, but as soon as he was with you again, nothing else mattered. You welcomed him home with so much love, like nobody else ever had before or ever would again.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, smut, very hands-on Bradley, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You were already at work, trying your best to teach your math class with your phone gripped in your hand, when Bradley texted to let you know he was boarding a flight that would land in San Diego just before six o'clock. Tears stung your eyes as you scribbled some problems on the board for your kids to work on while you walked briskly to the back of the room to write back.

I'll be there to pick you up! I can't wait!

Truthfully, you didn't know if you could have gone another day without hearing from him. Your heart felt full now after the brief conversation you had. He was safely back on dry land! He was coming back to San Diego! He missed you as much as you missed him! 

It was Valentine's Day, and more importantly, Career Day was later this week on Friday. You couldn't contain your excitement, especially when he wrote back with his flight number along with a short message

I'll see you in a few hours, Gorgeous. Tell your kiddos I'll see them in a few days.

You watched as your students wrote down some final answers, then you checked them together while butterflies soared around in your belly. You couldn't hold it back any longer after that. You felt flustered as you placed your hand on your forehead and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw wanted me to tell you that he'll be here on Friday for Career Day."

Jayden jumped out of his chair as Oliver pumped his fists in the air. "Can we work on another list of questions for him?" Nia asked as Violet clapped in excitement.

Since that very first package you sent, he had been making this school year even better than you ever expected. "Yes. We can work on more questions for him. Some of our other friends from the Navy will be joining us as well."

"Who?" asked Jackie, eyes wide behind her glasses.

"I guess you'll find out on Friday. Now who wants to write our list of questions?"

When you left your school that afternoon, traffic back to Coronado was heavy, but you didn't mind one bit. You couldn't stop smiling as you made a phone call, ready to beg if needed to so you could get what you wanted. Then you changed into the dress Natasha helped you pick out. It was tight and black with long sleeves and a short hem. And suddenly it was time to pick Bradley up.

You were giddy as you stood on the driveway, unsure if you should take your car or his Bronco. Ultimately you decided to take his so he'd have a chance to drive it if he wanted to. Unless he was exhausted. If he was too tired, you would have no problem driving it back so he could rest. Then you started to feel like maybe you shouldn't have made the dinner reservation. He probably wasn't going to want to go out to eat two hours after getting home from deployment. 

How many times had he told you that he liked the way you didn't mind when he wanted to just relax on the couch and unwind? You groaned as you got in the Bronco and started the engine. When you got to the airport, you'd call and cancel it. Taking him home to a long, hot shower was a better option. Plus you already stocked the refrigerator with so much food, he could eat whatever he wanted for the next week.

There was a ton of traffic getting into the airport short-term parking lot, and you were just pulling into a spot when Bradley texted you to let you know his flight landed early. "Oh, shit," you muttered, heart hammering into overdrive as you pulled the key from the ignition and straightened your dress as you climbed out of the Bronco. 

You rushed through the throngs of people as quickly as you could, looking for the correct baggage claim number. When you located it, you spun around looking for him, but you heard his voice before you saw him.

"Gorgeous!"

So many people were looking at your boyfriend with his booming voice and khaki uniform, but he was staring right at you with a bright smile on his face. You were off and running for his arms, and he scooped you up against him, feet lifting from the floor.

"Bradley," you moaned, and his lips crashed against yours. His heart was thudding against your chest as you tasted his mouth and grabbed at his hair. Everything about him was so familiar, and it seemed like it had been forever since you got to touch him. 

His mustache was rough against your lips and then your cheek and ear. His voice was deep and sweet as his lips skimmed your earlobe when he whispered, "I love you."

Then his lips found yours again as you clung to him. This is what you'd missed so much. Just simply knowing he adored you by the way he kissed you. Any doubts you had while he was gone started to ease away. Big hands held you in place as you broke the kiss to say, "I missed you," voice coming out like a sob.

His brown eyes were soft as he smiled at you. "I couldn't go another minute without you, Gorgeous. I was miserable."

"Me, too," you whispered, kissing him once more as your feet touched the ground again. But you still felt lighter than air as his adoring gaze stayed fixed on your face when you said, "That box of notes you sent me was so romantic, Bradley, but nothing compares to the real thing." 

You dragged your thumb along his scars, body still pressed against his. He grunted as his hand slid down your back to your butt. "Let's go home. So I can give you the real thing." Your cheeks were blazing with heat as you buried your face against his chest. "I wrote you so many notes, Baby. They're in my duffle, just waiting for you to read them, but you'll notice a theme. I missed you like crazy. And all I want to do for the foreseeable future is eat food that doesn't suck, sleep in my own bed, and fuck my girlfriend."

"Bradley," you laughed, letting him walk you backwards so he could pick up his duffle bag. You had one hand around his neck and one on his firm abs as you whispered, "Let's go home."

-------------------------------

It was indescribable how much better Bradley felt as soon as he saw you inside the airport. And now he couldn't stop touching you. Your voice eased the tension out of his body like nothing else could, and your skin was silky soft beneath his fingers. He had one hand on the wheel of his Bronco and one tucked up inside your dress, resting on your thigh while he drove. 

It was Valentine's Day, and he showed up empty handed which just felt wrong. He would try to make it up to you all week and all month. He'd make it up to you in the form of an engagement ring. How could he not? The deployment without communication was the most miserable he'd been since his mom died. Probably because he hadn't felt so loved since then.

"I reached for my phone so many times to call you before I remembered I couldn't," you said softly, running your fingers up his forearm and back down. "It broke my heart a little bit each time."

"God, Gorgeous," he moaned, squeezing your thigh as he drove into the sunset toward Coronado. He had an actual partner who was invested in him, and he wasn't about to give this up. "It killed me to go so long without hearing your voice. Keep talking. Please."

Your laughter filled the space as he sped up a little bit. "I have all of the letters from the box stacked up in the kitchen. I read them over and over again. And I moved all of my things into your house."

"Our house."

"Our house," you repeated, and he fell in love with the words even more. "I was too afraid to unpack all of it in case you told me Norfolk was going to be your permanent station, but maybe you can help me with that this week while I feed you everything in the refrigerator. Oh, and I made a reservation for Salvatore's for later tonight, but we can cancel it since you're probably exhausted."

Bradley parked in the driveway, yanking the keys from the ignition while you unbuckled your seatbelt. He took your chin in his hand, and you came willingly across the seat so he was kissing you again, rougher this time than in the airport. 

"Are you telling me there's a chance I get to fuck you and then eat ravioli?"

You whimpered as you crawled onto his lap, that little dress leaving nothing to the imagination as it bunched up to your hips. "If that's what you want," you whispered, looking like everything he would ever need. 

His cock throbbed as your body rubbed against his. "That's what I want," he grunted as you sucked on his neck. "I want you to be my Valentine. I want to show you how much I missed you. Then I want us to go out to dinner."

He opened the door and carried you toward the house, not stopping until he had you in the bedroom, fading rays of sunlight filling the space. Bradley watched you pull your dress over your head, revealing that little black bra and panty set you wore for him at Christmas. You kicked off your shoes, and he got to watch you crawl across the bed before yanking off his own boots and following you.

"Bradley," you giggled once he had you on your back, pinned beneath him.

"Say it again. I need to hear you say it again."

You guided your legs apart, letting him rest against your core as his lips skimmed along your jaw. Your voice was soft and perfect as you said his name. "Bradley. Show me how much you missed me."

He could feel your hands on his belt, the buckle clinking softly as you slid it open. You got his zipper open as he continued to run his lips along your soft skin, pausing to lick and taste you, making you moan for him. Your hand was too small to wrap around his cock, but you tugged him free from his underwear and gave him a squeeze that left him seeing stars.

"Baby," he whined, bucking against your palm as you slid your lace thong to the side and treated him to your welcoming pussy.

"It feels like you missed me a lot," you gasped, eyes going wide as he pushed himself into your perfect body.

He could only groan in response until he was fully seated, forehead resting on your shoulder. "It felt like hell being away from you. Can't live without my Gorgeous pen pal."

Bradley eased his hips back, listening to you whimper before he pushed himself deep again. His neck and shoulders were sore, and his bruises were tender beneath your eager fingers, but he didn't stop you from touching him everywhere. He needed you to. He'd been craving all of this for almost two months. You welcomed him back home with your kisses, fingers in his hair as he fell even more in love with the way you loved him. You whispered his name as he fucked you until you were shaking, and you let him fill you with his cum. 

"Gorgeous," was all he could mutter as he was sprawled halfway on top of you, still buried deep as your pussy pulsed gently around him. 

Your fingers trailed through his hair and down his neck as you whispered, "Let's take a shower together." He would have followed you anywhere you wanted to go, but a hot shower with your hands all over him sounded so good, he pulled himself free from your body and started to finally undress.

As his uniform shirt fell to the floor, you sat up in bed. When his undershirt was discarded as well, you gasped.

"What's the matter?" he asked as you got to your feet and ran your hand along his shoulder.

"You're bruised!"

"I'm fine," he muttered quickly, but you were already inspecting every inch of him.

"What happened?" you asked, voice sharp. "And why didn't you tell me about this right away? Before I started grabbing you."

He took your hands in his and kissed your fingertips. "I really am fine, Gorgeous. A doctor checked me out this morning. I just had a rough landing a few days ago."

"Why didn't you say something?"

Your words sounded sharp, but they felt so soft when he let his mind absorb them. "Because the only thing that's going to make me feel better is your body all over mine and your voice saying my name."

You bit your lip and very gingerly draped your arms around his neck. "Oh, Bradley. I'm going to spoil you for the rest of the week."

--------------------------------

Bradley yawned when he kept you tucked against his bruised chest in the shower, but he was resolute in saying he wanted to go out for dinner.

"We don't have to," you reassured him, placing kiss after soft kiss to his collar bones as you washed his hair for him. "You've been through so much."

"I want to eat real food with my beautiful girlfriend on Valentine's Day," he insisted. "And I promise you, this is the best I've felt since Christmas. Because I'm with you. Besides, you should have seen the shit they served for meals on that aircraft carrier. It was criminal, Baby." His musings were punctuated by his loudly growling stomach as he ran his hand up and down your back.

Truthfully, he did look a little thinner to you, which was awful considering how much he was used to eating. You just wanted to take care of him right now, and he clearly needed a solid meal and some sleep. So you helped him dry off and led him back to the bedroom with his hand wrapped around yours.

"Since you promised to spoil me... will you put that black dress back on again?" he whispered next to your ear, making you shiver.

"I could do that for you." Bradley picked it up off the floor with a smile, and you took it from him as you said, "But you made a mess of my underwear, so I'll have to skip it."

He made a deep sound at the back of his throat that had you excited to go to Salvatore's all over again. You helped him dress in a button down shirt and some black pants, careful about how you touched his bruises, and then the two of you were off. On the drive to the restaurant, his hand seemed to be glued to your thigh once again, but you didn't mind. It felt like you'd gone a year without him, and this was just your reward, getting to listen to him tell you all about how Admiral Simpson showed up in Norfolk and about how lonely he was on the carrier.

"I'm not doing that again," he murmured, parallel parking with one hand. He smiled at you as he checked his blind spot. "I'll just retire from the Navy before I spend that amount of time without my pen pals ever again."

You kissed him as he shifted into park. "You might have a career as a smut writer. I read that one note you left for me, and it was hot."

"Oh yeah?" he crooned, dark eyes sparking with mischief as his hand tightened on your leg. "You liked that one?"

Instead of a verbal response, you just guided his hand up a few inches further until his fingers grazed your bare pussy, and then you climbed out onto the sidewalk like it was nothing. Bradley was right behind you in an instant as you strolled inside Salvatore's as if you hadn't a care in the world, meanwhile your heart was pounding at the way his hand wrapped around you as the host greeted you both.

"Please enjoy the lounge for a few minutes, and I'll find you when your table is ready," he said smoothly while Bradley kissed the side of your neck with his body pressed against yours like the two of you were all alone.

"Let's go," you whispered, voice shaking a bit as you wiggled out of his grasp and headed for the bar. But the room was crowded, and he ended up right where he had been a second ago, leaving you a little dizzy as his hand settled low on your belly.

"You're gonna tease me for the rest of the night then?" he asked, broad chest rumbling against your shoulders and the top of your back.

"Maybe," you replied, trying to play coy even though you wanted nothing more than to feel him touching you just how he was right now.

He kissed the spot behind your ear, and your whole body clenched with need as he asked, "Let's get that expensive as hell wine again." Before you could stop him, he was signaling for the bartender and asking for the bottle by name. "It's my girlfriend's favorite," he said with a chuckle as he magically procured his credit card and handed it over.

You and he drank half the bottle right there in the lounge before the table was ready, and then you finished it in the dining room. It was Valentine's Day, sure, but this restaurant already held memories for you, and this was just adding to it. It was the same wine as last time, but you'd fallen even more in love with this man since then. Your feet were tangled with his under the table while you shared several pasta dishes, and you were so happy he was no longer self conscious about how much he ate around you. He touched you freely, reaching for your hand or letting his palm rest on your leg, and he kissed you sporadically as the meal progressed, knowing you wanted him to.

"I love you so much," you blurted out in the middle of telling him a story about how your class got locked out of the school after a fire drill. "And I'm happy you're home. And I don't want to ever do that again."

Bradley finished chewing his pasta before saying, "Well now you're just teasing me in a different way."

"I am?"

He nodded and set down his fork, signaling for the waiter. Bradley asked for the check and some containers to take the rest of the food home. Then he looked at you and asked, "How do you turn me on and make my heart melt at the same time, Gorgeous?"

The butterflies were back again. "You do it to me, too." You watched him pay the check like it was nothing, and he handed you the takeout containers. "Did you eat enough?" you asked as he led you toward the door and back to the Bronco with one hand resting on your hip and your body tucked against his.

"I can eat more later if I need to. Thank you for making the dinner reservation. It was perfect. But right now, I just want to be alone with you."

------------------------------

"Oh, god," Bradley groaned, getting to feel your body gripping him for the second time tonight. It was so late now, but he was full of wine and red sauce and still riding high on the excitement of being back home with you. He felt so loved up and emotional as he held you in front of him in bed and thrust slowly in and out of your pussy as you moaned. He missed being your big spoon.

"I can't wait until you read all the notes I wrote for you, Baby," he whispered, lips brushing the side of your neck as his fingers dug into your flesh. 

"I'll take some of them to work tomorrow," you gasped. Bradley didn't even feel bad for keeping you up past your bedtime as he nipped along your skin and fucked you slowly, just like he promised he would in that dirty note he put in the box. He was savoring you now; he planned on having you a dozen times just like this, all week long.

He slid his hand down to your clit and licked your ear. "I'll pack your lunch and drive you to work and get you coffee every day this week. I'm using vacation time to take care of some things." He wasn't about to tell you what those things were. But you were coming undone at his touch, so there was a chance he could tell you anything at the moment, and you wouldn't even remember. "You gonna cum for me?" he crooned, a smile curling along his lips as you arched your back and whined. "Good girl."

It didn't take long before he was following your lead, and after that it wasn't long before he was falling asleep with his body wrapped around yours, right where he belonged. "I love you."

------------------------------

I need them to be cuddly and snuggly and together forever. We've got a few more chapters left of these lovebirds. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 25

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[copinghex]

Family bonds | T.S

Summary: After a hurtful comment at a fundraising event, you wonder what really bonds Tommy to your child. 

A/N: Ok, so as I previously mentioned, I edited some of my old stories and will be reposting one per week. This is the first selected!

"Do you want to sit?" Tommy whispered in your ear, your hand went straight to your belly, moving up and down, where you baby rests and patiently waits to be born.

"No, I'm fine, just take this gin away from me, otherwise I'll be tempted," you pushed his glass away, "are the cute kids working?" 

"The wives look more excited than the men, but yeah, four huge donations until now," 

"In less than two hours? That's a new record!" 

This was probably the best business idea you ever had. The inauguration ceremony of the Shelby Institute for orphaned children took place in a cozy room, with closed windows and lighted up fireplaces, the cold breeze freezing the bones of anyone who dared to attend without a coat.

Months later, spring came to warm your bones and put a self-giving feeling into Thomas Shelby's heart. In the middle of a boring, typical week, he arrived home planning to uplift the structure of the institute's building. 

He told you the idea during the night, with his hand resting on your pregnant belly and although he didn't tell you what made him come up with it, you could clearly see his line of thought.

Tommy could rarely afford nice things, there was no gentleness in survival and for most of his life, that was all he did. Finally, with his rise to new money, he could provide something he never had to children who look too much like him - comfort. Also, being seen as a charitable person would do no harm to the business.

The small change of plans you suggested put a smile on his face, instead of making a typical fundraising dinner, why not make an afternoon tea? The invitations encourage couples to bring their children, seeing those innocent little humans running around shall make them remember why to donate.

A mansion with a huge garden was rented for the event, maids were hired to look after the children and butlers served biscuits and hot cups of tea. For your surprise, the event had more children than adults, most couples - including you and Tommy - were outnumbered by their children. 

Your eyes ran through the garden trying to find your little ones, the younger one was the easiest, no place was safest than inside your own mama, but it was better to keep an eye on the other three. Marie Louise Adler, whose hair looked exactly like yours. The twins, Henry and William Shelby, except for the eyes, are small versions of Tommy, from the physical appearance to the mannerism.

Quickly, you found William trying to teach one of John's girls how to use a slingshot. A few steps away, Henry had a handful of biscuits and carried a toy car made of wood.

"Where is Loui-'' before you could ask, a collective ugh followed by a child's cry got your attention.

Louise was under a tree with her knees on the grass, the hem of her yellow dress covered in dirt and the left leg of her white stockings ruined, exposing her bruised knee. Tommy reacted faster than you, his hand slid through your waist as he ran in her direction. You quickly followed after, rolling up the sleeves of your dress.

He picked Louise up, she put her arms around his neck and seemed to calm down a bit. A maid tried to apologize for neglecting your little girl, but you were too focused on following Tommy inside to answer.

Curious eyes followed your trio while you crossed the hallway and once you were in a private room, Tommy tried to put Louise on a sofa, but she didn't want to let go.

"C'mon, love," he encouraged, making her lift her crying face from his neck and allow him to sit her down.

"What happened, Lou?" you took her hair off her face and her stockings off, watching out to not brush her bruised knee.

"I was trying to climb on the tree, but I got scared and slipped up," she brushed off tears with her tiny hands.

Tommy took a napkin and wetted it with gin, after kneeling in front of the girl, he asked, "And what did me and mama say, eh?" 

She looked down, ashamed of disobeying.

"You can only climb trees when me or daddy are around to help," you rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

"I'm sorry," she pouted.

"Now I have to clean your knee, it's full of dirt," Tommy held her leg.

"No! It 's gonna hurt!" she pulled her leg back.

"Just a little, but don't think about it," you sat at her side, holding her head to your chest, "think about the delicious cake I'll get you when we get home!" 

"Can we get some too?!" William, who'd been peeking the whole scene from the door, suddenly yelled, Henry tried to shush him and ended up being dragged by the hand into the room.

"Boys! How long have you been there?" 

"It was William! He had the idea of following you!" Henry quickly accused.

"That 's not true! You were curiou-" 

"Alright, boys, it doesn't matter," Tommy silenced the argument before it started, playfully hitting the twins foreheads with the napkin.

While you were distracted by the kids, Tommy had taken care of Louise's knee and the five of you were finally allowed to go back to the event.

Louise insisted Tommy should carry her, Henry and William took your hands and the eyes of many guests softened to the vision of you walking together. 

Soon, the kids dispersed in the garden, Tommy got the attention of charitable housewives, interested in donating to the institute, you leaned on an empty table, sipping your favorite juice and smiling at anyone who crossed your way.

"Mrs. Shelby!" an old woman walked to you with a huge smile, "I must say, this is the most diverse charity event I attended in years!" 

 "Oh, thank you so much, misses…"

"Thompson, Aline Thompson, nice to meet you," she shook your hand. "you don't drink?" 

"Usually I do, but I'm pregnant," 

"Darling! That's lovely! Your husband is already so lucky to have two kids, now one more!" 

"Three," you corrected her.

"Pardon?" 

"Thomas and I have three children, Henry, William and Louise," 

"Well, if that's the case, I guess you're the lucky one, Mr. Shelby indeed treats the girl as if she's his," 

"Hm," you pressed your lips together. "may I ask who told you Louise isn't Tommy's?" 

"It's written in the guest list, Y/N Adler Shelby and Louise Adler, I'm sorry for Mr. Adler, I'm sure he was a good man," she smiled, "now, if you excuse me," 

Aline left you with teary eyes, how dared she speak about your family like this? But what if…? What if she was right? Did Tommy really love Louise? Did he see her as his daughter or an extension of you?

"Seven, Louise falling over had a good effect on them," Tommy held your arm, telling you about the new huge donations.

"Really? That's great, love," 

"Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, just a bit tired," 

"I'll tell the driver to take you home," 

"No! There’s still a few hours to go,"

"Ada will take your place, most of the guests are leaving already anyway,"

"Oh, alright then," you drawled.

"Will you take the kids?"

"Yeah, I think," you looked around, searching for them, "just Louise, the boys look like they're having fun, can you look after them?"

"Sure." 

-

The way home was quiet, Louise had asked to rest on your leg and fell into deep sleep, Frances helped you to carry her to bed. After a well-deserved bath, you had put some foundation's papers in order so Tommy could add today's profit without any problem. Night was falling and all you could do was wait for the rest of your family to arrive.

Heading upstairs, your eyes fixed in a spot they usually didn't, the family painting. It took months of persuasion for Tommy to agree to pose and even longer for it to be done, since he only agreed to give away two hours of his agenda. 

Your heads leaned together in a sign of unquestionable affection, Louise sat in the middle, where your right and Tommy's left leg stuck together. William was on your left leg and Henry on Tommy's right, they were less than two years old and didn't get a characteristic Shelby haircut yet. All in all, you looked like a family, no one would dare to say otherwise, unless Aline Thompson.

The sound of the front door opening followed by the maid's heels told you Tommy arrived, you decided to wait in the stairs and he showed up alone.

"Where's Henry and William?" you asked with furrowed brows. 

"At Ada's, they wanted a sleepover with Karl," 

While you both walked upstairs, he had a hand on your lower back and you realized he didn't ask about Louise, the very first thing you did when Tommy arrived was to ask about your kids, Tommy didn't even bother, probably because Louise wasn't his.

Time passed quietly, Tommy took a bath and asked a few questions about the paperwork, you told him to add today's profit and nodded to whatever else he said. Night could have been good, or at least, peaceful.

He sat on the bed looking through his paperwork and his sudden warning made your jaw clench, "You have a doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow, so be home when he arrives," 

"What for?" 

"To check on our girl," he answered without paying attention.

"How do you know it's a girl?" 

"This pregnancy it's different from the boy's," 

"Oh," you lay down, turning your back on him, "I'm glad you at least care about this girl," 

He sighed and you heard him writing something, a few seconds passed until he asked, "What did you say?" 

You didn't answer.

"Y/n, what do you mean?" he touched your shoulder, trying to make you look at him.

"Nothing, Tommy, nothing," 

"No, what the fuck you mean with this girl?" 

You sat up, taking a good look at his face before questioning, "How many children do we have, Tommy?" 

"Three and another one on the way," he harshly answered and you sighed in relief.

"This is what you say to everyone else, right? Not just to me," 

"Yeah, y/n, of course, why would you fucking ask that?" 

You teared up and Tommy's face softened, he cupped your face, catching some tears and patiently waiting for you to speak.

"You only have three, Tommy, the twins and this one," you rubbed your belly.

"Who said that?" he looked at you with disbelief.

"It's the truth," 

"Louise is my child,"

"You know she's not, I know it, you know it, and-"

"Y/n-" 

"Aline Thompson fucking knows it," 

"Who 's Aline Thompson?" 

"It doesn't matter, Tommy," 

"It fucking does, if there's someone around saying Louise isn't my child, then I have to know," 

"It won't change the facts." 

"Listen," he moved closer to you and cupped your face again, "Louise is my child, I'm raising her, she's a Shelby." 

"Then why didn't you ask about her when you arrived?" 

"I asked Frances, she told me she's sleeping since evening," 

"Oh," your cheeks heated up, ashamed of this huge misunderstanding. 

"Who's Aline Thompson?" 

"A stupid woman at the charity tea, she said I was lucky for you treating Louise as your own," 

"Lucky, eh?" he nodded, "I bet her husband has a deal with the Shelby Company," 

"No, Tommy!" you giggle.

"Oh, just a few pounds to lose,"

"Tommy! You're mean! Not that she doesn't deserve it," 

Hesitant knocks on the door made you stop laughing, you and Tommy switched a look before he got up and opened the door.

"I'm sorry to bother, Mr. Shelby," a young maid holding Louise's hands apologized, "but Louise wants to sleep with you," 

Too sleepy to speak, your daughter rubbed her eyes and walked past Tommy, climbing on the bed and laying near you. 

"Right, thank you-" 

"Oh, also, Mrs. Thorne called, the twins want to come home."

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Ex Appeal

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin gets a frightful visitor on Halloween.

CW: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes, alludes to past cheating

WC: 3500+

This fic was written for @roosterforme’s Rocktober challenge! Inspired by the song Poison by Alice Cooper.

Masterlist

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jake says with a look of disgust – as much of it as he can muster. You, after all, have been his greatest source of misery as of late.

You give him a dirty look – your specialty – and barge into his home as though you own the place and Jake’s just a goddamn doorman. “I need to lay low for a bit.”

Jake narrows his eyes as he turns to face you. He keeps the door open because he’s still hoping you’re going to leave any minute. “Lay low?” he asks mockingly. “What’d you do? Commit murder?” He wouldn’t be surprised.

You peek around his arm to glance out at the street. “Someone’s looking for me.”

Jake watches you impassively. “Is it the police?” Then, after a moment, he adds, “Is there a reward?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re the only one in this neighbourhood that I trust,” you say, pushing on the door that Jake is obstinately keeping open.

Jake nods. “Shame that trust doesn’t go both ways,” he comments contemptuously.

You eye him irritably. “Close the door.”

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“I just did.”

Jake shakes his head. “You could not have been more vague.”

You sigh. “Close the door and I’ll tell you.”

Jake exhales warily and shuts the front door. He surveys your outfit. “What are you wearing?”

You glance down at your ensemble: a black, form-fitting body suit and fishnet stockings. You’re also sporting knee-high boots and you’ve got what looks like six extra arms coming out of your back. You look back up at him with an annoyed expression on your face. “It’s Halloween,” you snap defensively.

Jake grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” He gestures to a cauldron full of candy sitting near the front door. “There’s gonna be a fuck-tonne of children coming through here trick-or-treating in like half an hour and you’re dressed like a gothic porn star.”

Instead of being offended, you lift your eyebrows in surprise. “You’re handing out candy?”

Jake sighs and places his hands on his hips, fixing you with a stern look. “Yeah, I’m handing out candy. That’s what adults do on Halloween.”

You stare at him as a smile materializes on your face. “Is that your costume?” you ask facetiously, gesturing at his checkered polo shirt. “Adult?”

Jake squares his jaw to mask the fact that he found your joke humorous, but you seem to notice the shift in his features because your own grin broadens. “My mom got me this shirt,” he says.

“Ah,” you respond. “A fellow adult.”

Jake tears his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the shiny, pointed toes of your stilettos. “Why’re you here?” he asks again, this time a lot less peevishly and a lot more grimly.

You bend down to unzip your boots. “I’m a spider,” you say. “Black widow.”

Jake glances up to meet your gaze as you straighten up. He nods. “Suits you.”

You give him a flat look. “I was at the bus stop and some dude started harassing me.”

Jake’s eyes trail down your scantily glad body. “You don’t say,” he remarks sarcastically.

Your jaw drops in outrage. “Are you victim blaming?”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “It was a joke.”

You cringe. “It was in poor taste.”

Jake closes his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. He’s had about enough of your attitude. “You wanna talk about poor taste?” he asks. “Where’s that lovely boyfriend of yours?”

You watch him sourly. “We’re not together anymore, if you must know,” you reply.

Truth be told, Jake probably didn’t need to know. But, now that he does, it’s only fitting that he respond with, “Shocking.”

You give him the finger. As if he were the one who’d been dating two people at the same time.

There’s a knock on the door. “Fuck,” he mutters, giving you a moody look. “Hide,” he says. “Unless you’d rather traumatize a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

You grimace at him. “You think eight-year-olds haven’t seen worse?”

Jake scans the low-cut neckline of your costume. He can’t think of anything more erotic if he tried. But, if he’s being honest, it’s not the outfit so much as your insane body that’s the culprit. He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you aside, making sure you’re tucked safely behind the door before opening it.

He smiles down at the two little kids on his porch when they yell, “TRICK-OR-TREAT!” at the top of their lungs.

“Well, well, well,” he says cheerily, bending down to grab a handful of candy out of his cauldron. “Who do we have here?” He puts the candy into one of their bags. “Are you a mermaid?”

The girl nods happily.

Jake wows in amazement. “You’re the prettiest mermaid I’ve ever seen!” He bends down to grab another handful of candy and drops it into the second child’s bag. “And you must be Iron Man!” he exclaims. “That’s one cool costume, bud. You look great!”

When Jake finally closes the door and looks at you, he sees that you’ve got your arms folded over your chest and a giant smirk on your face.

“What?” he asks darkly.

Your smile widens. “That was cute.”

Jake takes a step from the door and looks away from you. He’s not about to get sucked back into your web of lies, no pun intended. “You wanna hand some out?” he asks.

“I thought you don’t want me traumatizing the children,” you respond sarcastically, stepping out of the corner toward him.

Jake glances at you with a small smile. “I can give you some clothes, if you like.”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Adult clothes?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Come on, before more kids show up.”

He makes his way into his bedroom and grabs a pair of jogging pants and t-shirt and brings them back out for you. “Bathroom’s down the hall,” he says.

“I remember,” you respond, but you’ve already started to remove your bodysuit.

Jake turns away in alarm and holds out the clothes for you. “Do you?”

“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” you say. “Shoot, I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Jake groans. “Are you for fucking real?”

“You got a pair of boxers?”

Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Hold this,” he instructs, keeping a hand over his eyes as he hands you the crumpled clothes and starts back for his bedroom.

“You know what? I’ll just go commando.”

Jake takes a deep, cleansing breath and turns back toward you. He keeps his eyes closed and holds a hand out so as not to bump into anything as he walks. Of course, as luck would have it, he stumbles into you.

“What the fuck, dude?” you exclaim as his hands cling to your naked body, steadying you so you don’t fall over.

Jake squeezes his eyes tightly so that they don’t open inadvertently. “Sorry, sorry!” he winces, finally stabilizing both himself and you. He feels the softness of your skin underneath his palms as his hands do a final sweep along your back before he lifts them away from your body with a grimace. He’s bracing himself for a punch in the face.

“Are you a dumbass? Open your eyes!” you screech. “You’ve seen me naked how many times?!”

“Twelve,” he responds, a little hoarsely. All he can think about is how smooth your skin felt in his hands not a moment ago and it’s driving him a little mad.

“It was a rhetorical question,” you say pointedly. “You counted?”

“Are you decent yet?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“I’m never decent,” you mutter under your breath and Jake can’t help but smirk. “But if you’re asking whether or not I’m dressed. Then, yes, I am.”

Jake releases a heavy sigh and opens his eyes cautiously.

You scowl at him. “What, you think I’m tricking you?”

“Well, you aren’t treating me.”

You stare at him coolly. “You’re such a delight. Can’t imagine why we ever broke up.”

“Need a reminder?” he calls as you make your way back into the front hall. “It’s because you cheated on me!”

You’re standing at the front door with your arms crossed. “I didn’t cheat, for the last time,” you retort. “We weren’t exclusive.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line. “I was exclusive.”

You shake your head in frustration. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

There’s another knock on the door. You sigh irritably and reach for the doorknob.

“Hello!” you exclaim enthusiastically the moment the door is open.

The mob of children on Jake’s doorstep all look up at you with exuberant grins and yell their opening line in a loud, messy chorus.

You react with an animated gasp. “Oh my goodness! You guys are a frightful bunch!”

The kids laugh. Indeed, they’re dressed as zombies, ghosts, and vampires, and, when you comment on their appearance, they growl and make scary faces at you. Jake smiles at them and then at you as you distribute the candy from the cauldron excitedly.

Once the door is closed, however, you drop the act, giving him an icy look as you settle yourself on the little bench near the door.

Jake fights the urge to sit next to you and maybe get a little lost in the smell of your perfume. He still gets a whiff of it from time to time when he walks by his closet. Which reminds him –

“I have your sweater,” he says awkwardly.

You glance up at him coldly. “Well, why didn’t you give it to me? It’d probably look better than this.” You tug on the hem of the t-shirt he gave you.

Jake doubts it; the fact that he could see your nipples through the fabric of his own shirt is even more of a turn on than your low-cut bodysuit had been. But he responds with, “Probably. But I’m not about to let you change again.”

You snort. “Fair.”

Jake wonders just how detrimental sitting next to you might be to his personal journey of recovery. He figures that you also would prefer that he stay as far away from you as possible. Ultimately, however, he decides that it’s his bench, after all, and that he’ll be sharing it with you and not the other way around. And, with regard to getting over you, well, he can try again tomorrow.

Jake makes his way over to the bench and you eye him cautiously as he approaches. Silently, you slide to make room for him. He gulps nervously and lowers himself onto the seat beside you.

“What were you doing at the bus stop, anyway?” he asks, staring down at his own clasped hands because he can’t handle looking at you when you’re sitting so close.

“Frank and I were on our way to a party,” you respond sullenly.

Jake glances up at you despite himself. “Thought you two broke up.”

You meet his gaze and promptly look away – apparently, you’re not too keen on engaging in eye contact at this proximity either. “We did,” you say curtly. “About an hour ago.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “An hour ago?”

“We had a fight on the way. I hopped out of the car at a red light.”

Jake leaps out of his seat. “Are you crazy?” he exclaims. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

You give him an amused look. “Don’t you fly jets for a living?”

Jake gapes at you incredulously. “I trained for that,” he retorts.

You let out a small laugh. “You’re right,” you reply. “I should’ve practiced first.”

Jake draws a hand over his mouth. “Okay, so you got out of the car in the middle of traffic,” he says with a wince. “And he, what? Just let you go?”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t you?”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “In what you were wearing? I wouldn’t even let you go to the bathroom by yourself.”

You stare at him with a grin. “That’s a bit excessive.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “How many guys made passes at you before you finally decided that taking the bus home wasn’t the brightest idea?”

You lower your gaze without responding.

“As if that douchebag just left you,” Jake says angrily.

“Well, I wasn’t being very nice.”

“There’s a surprise.”

You eye him dangerously.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Jake says. “This isn’t the safest neighbourhood.”

You suck in your cheeks and nod. “Yeah, I was pretty freaked out actually,” you admit. “There was a group of guys following me and they kept making lewd comments. When I got to the bus stop, they sort of surrounded me…”

You trail off and Jake’s hands curls into fists of their own volition. “I could kill your boyfriend.”

“Ex,” you remind him.

“Whatever,” he says. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I pretended to call someone – you actually,” you say with a laugh. “I had a whole fake conversation with you on my way over. They lost interest in me after a little while and took off.”

He watches you solemnly. “You could’ve actually called me,” he says.

Your face turns skeptical. “Right. And you’d pick up?”

Probably not. “Of course,” he responds. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jake sighs and sits back down beside you.

Several more groups of trick-or-treaters come and go and you and him take turns answering the door. Occasionally, both of you jump up at the same time and end up oohing and aahing in unison at the various costumes that grace Jake’s doorstep.

This activity does little to help quell the feelings he’s tried for months to repress. He remembers grudgingly the night he told you he was falling for you and you telling him that you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment. That’s when he found out that he wasn’t the only one you’d been seeing.

In your defense, it’s not something you had been actively hiding. In fact, you probably thought that Jake was also sleeping around, given his reputation. But Jake caught feelings like an idiot and was heartbroken when you finally showed your cards.

He spent nearly a year convincing himself that you’re absolute scum. Yet, here you are, looking cute as a button in his joggers and t-shirt, laughing giddily at the neighborhood children like you’re some kind of sweetheart. Like you could fool him now.

Jake slumps back down on the bench, trying to interact with you as little as possible. He can sense that you’re starting to win him over again, and he can’t have that happen. He will not be seduced.

You sit beside him with a grand sigh and lean your head back against the wall. “You get a lot of kids here,” you say lightly.

“Mm-hm,” he hums, bending forward to rest his arms on his legs.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say. “You?”

Jake closes his eyes. The last thing he needs is a fucking dinner date with you. “There are some leftovers in the fridge. You can go heat some up for yourself.”

You lay a hand on his back and Jake goes rigid. “You’re not going to eat?” you ask.

“Not hungry,” he manages to say.

Your hand slides unhurriedly down his spine, your fingers grazing him delicately. Jake brings a fist to his mouth to suppress a moan. “I’ll wait, then,” you say softly. Then, before Jake can gather the strength to remove himself from the situation, you lean your body into his and rest your head on his shoulder.

Jake sits very still, trying to decide how best to navigate this turn of events.

“Do you ever miss me?” you murmur faintly.

Jake turns his head to look down at your face while his heart springs into his throat to constrict his breathing. “What are you doing?” he asks huskily.

Your eyes stare deeply into his. “I’m just wondering,” you whisper.

Jake sighs and rubs his forehead. “You just broke up with Frank.”

Your eyes start to fill with tears. “I miss you.”

“Fuck,” Jake mutters and straightens his back. His head drops like a deadweight against the drywall in behind.

You’re displaced in the process but, once he’s situated, you slowly move closer, until your head is resting over his chest.

Jake grits his teeth but wraps his arm around you and, in response, you lay your arm over his abdomen. He can feel your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. He tightens his embrace around your shoulders and curses some more, in silence this time. What is it about you that he just can’t resist?

You lift your head off his chest so you can be face to face with him. Jake tries very hard not to lock eyes with you because that would likely be the end of him. “Jake,” you say in a wispy sort of tone and Jake instantly loses that fight. He meets your gaze, and your eyes entrance him. “I want you to kiss me,” you breathe.

Jake can almost taste the citrus of your perfume; it hangs over you like a veil. He can already hear your melodic moans; he knows what you sound like when he touches you. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, the ardent urging of your hands as they slip underneath his shirt.

But what he can’t do is kiss you.

Your lips… your lips are all he can think about. He wants you more than anything in the world but you’re not here the same way he’s here; you’re just passing through while he’s here to stay.

You come impossibly close, aching for just a split second of contact. “Don’t you want to?” you whisper.

Jake can hardly stand being this close to you. “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a low, uneven voice.

You gulp and the tip of your nose brushes his. “I want to be with you, Jake,” you whimper, your fingers digging persistently into his ribs. Your travelling hands ignite a chain of pyrotechnics under his skin that sort of set his entire chest ablaze. “Don’t you want that?”

If only you knew how much. He shakes his head, cupping your cheek in his hand. “How can that be? When you’ve only been single for an hour?”

Your eyes start to sparkle. “You don’t believe me?”

He’ll never believe a word you say. But that doesn’t make him want you any less. He catches the tears that stream down your face with his thumb.

“I never got over you, Jake,” you say, clasping your hand over his on your cheek. “I think about you all the time.”

Jake leans his head into yours and grips your hand in his. If you’re telling the truth, he sympathizes. But, more likely than not, every word coming out of your mouth is fiction.

You push him away and sit up straight, wiping at your tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” you say. “I made a mistake. I realized that the moment you left. And I was too proud to go after you.”

Jake grimaces. “So, you dated Frank for ten months?”

You shrug. “On and off. He cheated on me, so…” you trail off with a cynical laugh. “Got what I deserved.”

Jake furrows his brows. “You don’t deserve that.”

You glance up at him with renewed hope. “I don’t deserve you,” you say with a strangled sigh. “I know that. And you know that, obviously. Which is why you won’t kiss me.”

Jake shakes his head.

“I know that it’s long over, Jake. I’m not delusional,” you say, your eyes so penetrating it feels like they’re clawing right into his soul. “And, I swear, I did not come here for this. It’s just, seeing you again – and your fucking disgustingly adorable adult shirt – handing out candy like a well-adjusted member of society – it reminded me what I missed out on.”

Jake lifts his eyebrows. “A lame, costume-less, party-less Halloween?”

You smile. “It’s not lame. It’s perfect.”

Jake watches you wretchedly. You may look innocent sitting before him in his very own baggy joggers and t-shirt with your dizzyingly beautiful eyes. But you are a fucking black widow. With a venomous bite. And sweet lips that spew lies, webs of which he could never untangle. Poison on the tongue. Toxic to the bone. Fatal. “You’re perfect,” he says.

You gaze at him tenderly, waiting for your moment to strike. Jake is waiting too. There’s no use fighting it, he lost the moment he met you. And he’ll lose as many times as it will take to win you for good.

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[sunsetsimon]

apology - simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

thanks for requesting anon <3

nsfw ahead! mdni

also sorry i had to rush the end but i promise ill have something better out later!!! - sun

─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────

the bed dips as simon lays next to you, finally coming to bed after avoiding you for the last 2 hours. he knew he fucked up earlier when he forgot the main thing you sent him to the store for. you'd been looking forward to trying out a new recipe you'd found online and knowing it'd take a while, you asked him to run to the store and grab some stock for the soup.

"in a bit, dove. 'm gonna finish this workout first," he said when you asked him. you nodded in agreeance, not realizing 'finishing his workout' meant taking an hour run around the neighborhood.

and of course you could've gone yourself, but simon always prefers you ask him to do things like that and you wanted to be patient. he gives you a quick call when he gets to the store, stopping there on his run, "stock, tomato paste, cream and rice. thas'it love?"

as he's on his way home he can't help but feel like he forgot something, it nags at him but he continues anyway. greeting him with a kiss at the door, you grab the bag from him and carry it to the kitchen so he can take off his shoes.

"ugh- simon! i told you to get stock!"

simon stares at you puzzled, but makes an 'oh shit' face when he realizes, "ah fuck! knew i forgot something, i'll go back now."

"it's fine, i'll just have something else," you sigh, leaving the items on the counter and walking away. he tries to stop you, saying he'll be quick but your mood has already been ruined, waving your hand in dismissal. you retreat to your room for a while, reading your book until simon decided to check on you.

"'m sorry about earlier. was being a dumbass and forgot."

"you could've just called me," you reply with a slight irritated tone in your voice, eyes not leaving the page of your book, though you weren't reading anymore.

"i know, i should've," he nods, pulling you to him on the bed, his arms wrapping around your body, his head on your stomach. "i can't make up for it now, but i am sorry."

you reread the page again, attempting to focus on the words. simon's fingers grab at the fabric of your sweatpants, pulling it down to reveal the skin of your stomach and hip. your legs twitch as his wet lips trail kisses along your tummy, his short blond hair tickling your skin. his touch is addicting, you instantly melt into him, a wanting ache growing in your pussy.

he works your pants off, throwing them to the side and pushing your legs open wide. leaning forward, he kisses the wet spot in the fabric, his nose bumping your clit. the muscles in your thighs ripple, flexing to keep them open while he teases you. sticking out his tongue, he flattens it against your clit, his hot breath only making you wetter.

dragging your panties down, he groans at the wet stickiness of your slick on the fabric. taking a deep breath as he holds them to his nose, "fuck, y' smell so good."

"simon..." you whine, feeling like you might die if he doesn't do something. anything.

"g'nna make you cum, dove. as an apology." simon leans down, his mouth latching onto your cunt. he moans against you, pulling you closer as if he could devour your entire pussy. his hips rut against the mattress, grinding down to ease some of the pressure.

he revels in the way you cry his name, desperately fucking yourself onto his tongue. two fingers slide into you easily, pushing deep and curling against that spongey spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. you tug his hair, holding him close to you as he sucks your clit, flicking his tongue on it quickly.

“gonna cum-“ you barely make out, jaw clenching to hold back your moans.

simon only hums against you, raising onto his elbows, pulling your hips into the air. his tongue prods at your entrance, lapping at the sweet wetness thats dripping out of you. his fingers fuck you expertly, pulling you to orgasm quickly. you squeal as you cum, legs shaking and mind spinning as it washes over you. his dark eyes are on you, watching intensely as you writhe in his arms, whining ‘okay-okay’ until he finally stops.

“how was that?” he asks, finally pulling away with a smirk on his scarred lips. his chin glistens, your sweet wetness all over the bottom half of his face. of course he already knows the answer, he just wants to embarrass you.

“oh shut up and come here, simon.”

fuck he’s good at apologies.

[azrielsdove]

Softly: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Smuttttt, 18+. This is just a short, smutty fic for my az babies out there <3

***

You hadn’t been around many Illyrians before. You remember the first time you saw Azriel, how wide your eyes had gotten at the sight of the large wings behind him. You had never seen anything like that, anything so dangerously beautiful.

You had been shelving books in your little shop when he had come in. You had turned with a wide smile to greet your new customer, faltering as you took him in. Everything about him was big. You had trailed your eyes over his body before remembering your role here. You cleared your throat and put the smile back on, asking “How can I help you today?” He seemed to have not noticed your reaction to him, or was pretending he didn’t notice.

“I’m looking for a specific book, I was told you may have it here?” Azriel had responded, pulling out a piece of paper with a title and author. You had nodded and disappeared to find it for him. When you brought it back, he had given you a thankful smile and left rather quickly after.

You wanted to see him again.

Much to your pleasant surprise, Azriel began frequenting your little bookstore. You didn’t have too much traffic and sometimes he’d stay for hours talking to you. You started to consider him one of your dearest friends, looking forward to seeing his shadows enter your business.

As time went on your feelings grew for the Shadowsinger. You felt called to him. You started to need to see him, getting anxious whenever it had been a few days since his last visit. You only hoped Azriel hadn’t noticed your change towards him. You knew he would never feel the same way.

Years had gone by since your first meeting, and Az still visited you at least once a week, often more. He had started coming closer to close, helping you lock up and walk you home. You would invite him in occasionally, the two of you staying up late talking and drinking. Those were your favorite nights.

It was a night much like that when everything changed.

You admit you had a bit too much wine to drink that night, but it had been a particularly stressful week with your shop. A sudden increase in clientele had been excellent for your business in theory, yet in practice you weren’t prepared for all the new customers. You had struggled to keep stock, having to turn away many disappointed and angry faeries. Tonight you just wanted to drink and forget about all those problems.

You laughed as Azriel told you a story about his brother Cassian, tipping back more wine. You were probably sitting a bit too close to him on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to mind. You watched the way his eyes lit up as he spoke of his brothers, the way color tinted his cheeks when he revealed something embarrassing. You saw the way his shadows would swirl excitedly when he talked about something dangerous, and you loved the way his wings fluttered with them.

Oh, those wings.

They were one of your favorite parts of Azriel. You loved the way they would catch the sun, brown and red light shining through. You loved the way they reacted to his emotions, how you could tell what he was feeling that day depending on his wings. You loved how they hung strong on his back, giving him that deadly appearance.

You wanted to lick them.

You didn’t think as you reached a hand out and lightly stroked the edge of the wing closest to you. You didn’t even realize what you had done until you noticed Azriel go rigid, his story ending abruptly. You straightened up immediately, your cheeks going red. “Oh, Az I-i’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that without even asking. Did I hurt you?” You asked, embarrassed at your actions. He shook his head, refusing to look at you. “I don’t know anything about Illyrians. Was that rude? Oh I am so sorry!” You rushed out, feeling hot tears of humiliation fill your eyes.

Azriel quickly looked at you when he heard the break in your voice, spotting your tears as they spilled out of your eyes. “Hey, no, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” He said comfortingly, reaching over to brush your tears away. You ducked your head, focusing on your glass of wine.

“They’re just beautiful.” You whispered. “I wanted to know what they felt like.” You slowly looked up to him, asking; “Can I touch them again?” Azriels eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed a few times. Finally he nodded, saying; “Softly.” You broke into a giddy smile and set your wine glass down on the table. You carefully reached your hand out, stroking the wing in the same spot. You let your fingers brush over their softness, wanting to feel every inch of them.

You were so caught up in memorizing the feel of Azriels wings against your fingers that you didn’t notice the way his hand gripped the armrest of your sofa. You rubbed down a particularly sensitive spot on his wings, stilling your motions as you heard him let out a heated groan. You looked into his eyes, shocked to see them blown wide with lust. “Az?” You asked curiously, confused as to what was happening.

“Do you know what touching an Illyrians wings feels like for us?” He asked, voice deep. You shook your head as you removed your fingers from him, wondering if you had hurt him in some way. He turned to you, leaning close. Your body was caged under Azriels, your heart going a million beats a minute. “It feels like this.” He spoke lowly, running his fingers over your neck. You gasped at his touch, heat flowing through your body. He seemed to enjoy your reaction, a small smile coming onto his face.

You had imagined a situation like this so many times before, so many nights with your hand between your thighs. Nothing compared to having Azriels hands on you, and all he had done was touch your neck. You were fucked.

You felt like he could read your mind as his smile widened and he leaned down to press a light kiss to the place his fingers had just moved from. You arched into him, wanting more, needing more. “I’ve wanted to touch you for years now.” He whispered over your skin, one hand falling to press your hip down into the couch. You gave a soft moan at his words, desire ripping through your body. You didn’t think twice before you reached up and ran your fingers over his wings again.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” You breathed out, his hand tightening on your hip. Azriel wrapped his other hand around your throat, forcing your eyes to look into his.

“Do it again.” He ground out, a low moan ripping through him as you ran your fingers down the ridges again. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He said before sliding his lips over yours.

The kiss was passionate, needy, searing. It was everything you wanted and more. You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, the other running down his wings again and again. You gasped when he ground down into you, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

You. Were. Fucked.

The hand on your hip slid under your waistband, finding you over your underwear. He chuckled darkly against your mouth when he felt the wetness seeping through. “All for me?” He asked, kissing you harder. Azriel slipped his fingers under the delicate lace, running them up and down, teasing you.

“Az,” you moaned out, pushing your hips into his touch. He pulled away and smiled down at you, enjoying the lust all over your face.

“What do you say, my needy girl?” His voice was hot, dangerous. You were going to explode if he didn’t touch you.

“Please, Az,” You breathed, his fingers toying with you. “Please touch me.”

At those words his fingers plunged into you, your back arching off the couch as you threw your head back. Fuck. The hand on your throat angled your head back to look at him, a smirk on his face. “Now now, I want to look at those pretty eyes when I make you cum.”

Oh gods. Oh gods. You were done for. You were done for. Azriel moved the palm of his hand so it was rubbing against you, heightened the pleasure you were feeling. You couldn’t help as moan after moan spilled from your lips, the coil tightening in your stomach. You were so close, so close.

Azriel flicked his fingers inside of you once more and you came with a scream, shaking under him. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.” He murmured, kissing your neck, your ears, your face as his fingers helped you through your high. He stopped once you let out a cry of overstimulation, pulling his fingers out of you before popping them in his mouth.

Fucking. Hell.

“Az, if you don’t fuck me right this second i’m going to lose my mind.” You said, your words dripping with desire. His eyes darkened as he leaned over you, the hand on your throat tightening.

“I don’t believe you give out the commands here,” was all he said before attacking your lips with his again. Your hands were all over him, on his chest, on his wings, desperately undoing his pants. You slid him out once you got the ties undone, groaning at the thick length in your hand.

“Az,” you moaned again, pressing your hips into his. “Please.”

“Please what?” He teased, dragging his tip through your folds. You grabbed his head and pulled him down to you, kissing him with as much desire as you could muster.

“Fuck me.” You whispered against his lips, a cry coming from you a second later as he began to push in. Gods, he was so big.

“That’s it, that’s it. You’re taking me so well. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He moaned as he sunk down into you, inch by inch. Once he bottomed out he took a moment for both of you to catch your breath.

You raised your hand, running a finger down his wings again. “Please move, Azriel.” You gasped out, feeling his body push into yours at your touch.

“As you wish.” He answered, pulling out before thrusting all the way back in. You couldn’t help the scream that tore from you. You dug your nails into his back, your other hand still playing with his wing. He began biting and sucking on your neck, relishing the moans you were giving him. “I won’t last much longer if you keep doing that.” He ground out as you ran your fingers down his wings again.

“Good. I want you to cum in me.” You breathed against his skin, a particularly strong bite settling on your neck as he took in your words. Az picked up speed, hand sliding between your legs to circle you. You began moaning his name like a prayer, unable to think anything else. He brought your eyes down to look at his again, fucking you through another orgasm. You scratched your nails on his wing and he came a second after you, spilling into you with a roar.

You both laid there for a few minutes, breathing heavily and processing what you just did. You began to worry that he was going to regret it, that it was a drunken mistake, that he was never going to want to see you again. Azriel pulled out of you slowly, watching as his cum dripped from you.

“I don’t know if I can go without seeing this everyday for the rest of my life.” He said, voice deadly serious. Your eyes widened at his words, your heart soaring. You rose to your knees, pressing your hands to his chest as you lightly kissed him.

“Then make me yours, Shadowsinger.” You said against his lips, a smile breaking out on his face. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back down on the couch, kissing all over your face.

“You’re already mine.”

***

This was just a short little thing to breakup the angsty ones i’ve been writing! I needed something a little easy haha. Please give me all your feedback! My requests are open as well if theres anything you guys want specifically <3

[iamasimperyk]

Mrs. Cameron

Summary: You just graduated, so Rafe took you on a vacation to celebrate it, making sure to make it unforgettable.

Warnings: Fluff, Not proof read, English is not my first language

Pairing: Professor!Rafe x Reader

"You like it here?" Rafe asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"It's beautiful. Thanks for taking me with you," You smiled up at your former professor.

A few days ago you finally finished college and officially started dating Rafe. To celebrate your success, he took you on a vacation to Hawaii.

It was mesmerising there, and things couldn't be better between the two of you.

"I planned something special for tonight," he murmured into the crook of your neck.

You let out a small giggle, "Another surprise?"

"I could never get tired of surprising my beautiful angel." He told you.

"You are so cliché, you know that, Mr. Cameron?" You kissed his cheek before pulling away from him, "I have to get ready now. Can't look like this when you have some big surprise for me."

He slightly shook his head, "You look stunning, even with the towel on your head."

You let out another giggle before disappearing into the bathroom.

Rafe let out a sigh. He planned out the whole night. He wanted to show you how serious he was when it came to your relationship.

You accepted his past and loved his daughter as if she was your own. Also, you accepted his ex and became quite good friends, which was weird at first, but it was better than the two of you hating each other.

Rafe couldn't help but smile as he thought about last weekend.

"I had a nightmare. Where is daddy?" Daisy mumbled, standing in front of your shared bed.

"He is still in his office, sweetie. Do you want to sleep in here tonight? Maybe I can also protect you from the bad things you dreamed about." You suggested with a tired voice, and she just nodded before quickly getting in the bed.

Daisy cuddled up to you quickly, "Thank you for letting me stay here."

You smiled down at the little girl, not believing how things between you and Rafe turned out.

Rafe listened to the conversation between his daughter and you that night, and he finally realized that you were the one.

-----

"Can I take the blindfold off yet?" You giggled as you squeezed Rafe's hand a little bit more.

"We are almost there," he replied, but his nervousness was noticeable.

After a few more minutes, he stopped walking and let go of your hand, "Okay, you can take it off now."

There he was, kneeling in front of you, a diamond ring nestled in a red velvet box.

Your eyes widen immediately, and you put a hand over your mouth.

"Y/n Y/l/n, the first time I met you I was your professor. I remember how you came in, wearing those stupid stockings. I immediately felt drawn to you, and I hated it at first. I was your professor, and I knew that having feelings for you could cost me my job. I was also quite sure that a stunning girl like you would never fall for someone like me. However, for some unknown reason, you did notice me and chose to be with me," Rafe started his speech and had you crying after the first words, "We have had our ups and downs, but we are here now, together and happy. I know we haven't been together for ages, but I am quite sure you are my soulmate even if you are young and have your whole life ahead of you. I just hope to play a part in it for a little while longer. Y/n Y/l/n, I love you with all my heart, and nothing would make me happier than to call you my wife. Will you marry me?"

You were nodding frantically while the mascara you had just applied half an hour ago was running down your cheeks.

"Words, darling," Rafe smirked a little.

"God, yes, Rafe. A million times yes." You hiccuped, and he put the beautiful ring on your finger.

Rafe stood up, kissing you passionately before he pulled away as the two of you ran out of air, "Mrs. Cameron. I like the sound of that."

[pricegouge]

hi hello just wanted to tell you that the wellies story with gaz and price is such a delight, everything about it is *chef's kiss*

I think Price would keep the hat, though, and wear it to the bar where Reader is having her date/make up date. Because then she HAS to storm up to Price and demand it back??? HOURS of handcrafting, Gaz unhelpfully being like "the color suits him :)" Price not-so-subtly delighted at ALL of this (also he does kind of like the hat. Maybe he can convince you to make him one in a different color?)

Gaz asks you to point out your date (someone who immediately clocks as ick. Like a stock broker finance bro type?) and Gaz immediately vetoes that. That guy isn't your date anymore. He and Price are! Now, about this camera they owe you....

Price in a knit fuchsia cap got me fuckin' good. Sorry this took so long! Even more sorry I'm posting unedited, but if I look at this any longer I'll blow up so here we go

(follow up to this)

The worst part is, once you see him in it, shining like a neon sign from clear across the bar, you understand completely why they'd had to unceremoniously rip it off your head that day. Even here, surrounded as he is by the general visual noise of the city and patrons who are by no means dressed to blend in, the man sticks out like a sore thumb. (Made no better for the fact that he still stands head and shoulders above all those around him, of course, but that's beside the point.) You can only imagine how garishly you'd stood out among the stretch of that green meadow, how much you'd jeopardized not only their mission but their very lives by simply being there.

Of course, that knowledge does nothing to soothe the anger that rises within you when you see the men responsible for ruining your last (better) dating prospect waltz in on your current one as if their only new objective is to ruin your night again while wearing the handmade hat you're now realizing they'd stolen from you. (You'd thought you'd misplaced it on the bus last week. One moment it was there, the next gone. Now you wonder how you could have missed either of them sitting aboard public transportation, or how long they'd been following you to now conveniently show up in at least two of the same places you were.)

You stare daggers at the two of them. John ignores you, pink cap bobbing through the crowd as he makes his way to the bar. Kyle posts up at a booth and smirks at you openly, unabashedly. He's impossibly more attractive outside of the grease paint and twig mass. You ignore the delightful flip your belly does when he clocks the way you take in the breadth of him, how he tests the seams of his button down, and his smirk turns to the kind of smile that should require a legal registry.

"What are you looking at?"

You startle a bit when a big head floats into your field of vision, Jeremiah's frown completely obscuring the much better view you'd just been staring down. He swivels to look behind himself, head rotating like an automatic, unmanned security camera. Observing, but not seeing anything. 

As far as prospects had gone, Jeremiah had been one of the least favorite matches you'd made on your little dating app; but after the failure from a few weeks past you'd been getting desperate, and his nice hair combined with his clever sales pitch tongue had eventually wooed you after enough messaging. Unfortunately, thirty seconds after meeting him in person you'd realized your initial instinct had indeed been right when he'd tried negging your outfit in the same breath he'd used to greet you at the door. He hadn't even chosen a good place to meet. With the way he dressed and spoke, you'd almost been looking forward to the novelty of some swanky bar uptown, but the pub he'd given you the name of was barely better than a hole in the wall. A dying fern stood in the corner, its only source of sustenance the light up dart board on its right, and the empty mugs surrounding it, the tacky puddle in its water pan suggesting it was a popular place to pour one's dregs out into. The sticky table felt like a fly trap, suggesting either years of buildup which had grown resistant to bleach, or a general incompetence on management's part as to how proper cleaning worked. You've no idea why you'd even stayed. Perhaps just a desire to stay out of the house. Part of you knows it's actually a desire to get laid so strong you're willing to overlook his shortcomings so long as you can clamp a hand over his mouth later and ride him until you're satisfied, but you don't want to look too closely at that part of you.

"Apologies. There's a man over there I recognize."

"Oh? Should I be worried?" His expression is genial enough when he asks, but his eyes keep something slightly colder at bay. Annoyance, perhaps. Not jealousy, you don't think. Not yet, at least. Probably hasn't actually clocked Kyle yet.

You should soothe him, you know. Coo reassurances, stutter through excuses and make up lies about just knowing them from your uni days or something. But then you remember Kyle's clever tongue, his blatant flirting. You remember John's heavy hands on you and the way they'd joked about keeping you all night. You're annoyed with them, more so when you remember how they'd left you high and dry after handing you off to the wolves back at base to tear into and question. But they're here now, have been for days, potentially, you're reminded when John ducks his head back into the booth, the subtle streaks of tinsel in the yarn you'd used glowing under the pendant light. He's got three drinks with him, sends you a casual wink when he spots you staring.

"Yes."

Jeremiah sputters. "Sorry?"

"Yes. You should be worried," you clarify casually. "Excuse me."

The boys aren't subtle about watching you as you approach, though Gaz leans into his captain's space to whisper something in his ear which makes his mustache twitch distractedly. It takes you a minute to pick your way over to them. You don't have much of a game plan beyond demanding your hat back, and hopefully garnering some insight as to why they're following you, but that doesn't explain the thrill you feel when their eyes trail you, or the way your mouth runs dry when you realize you're going to have to talk to them this time, no convenient excuse of situational silence keeping you from putting your foot in your mouth. You tell yourself you're at least not likely to drift off under one of them this time, and then suppress a heavy swallow when you realize you don't actually want that to be true. It's why your voice isn't quite as strong as you'd hoped when you approach their table, skipping formalities and demanding to know what they're doing here.

It's like they can smell your apprehension, John content to just keep smirking at you while Kyle responds with the kind of cocky voice you would hate on anyone else, but just serves to remind you how much the tone is earned when he uses it. "Can't a captain treat his favorite sergeant to a drink after work anymore?"

It's the phrasing that catches your attention, momentarily distracting you from reaching out and ripping your hat off John's head. It's too familiar to Jeremiah's own proposition for the evening, too jarring when used in relation to military work. "You've been following me," you state bluntly, wondering if it's possible they've even bugged your phones.

"Only a lot," Kyle agrees cheekily.

"Why?"

"Had to make sure you weren't going 'round telling everyone what you'd seen, petal," John grumbles, voice just as deep and dark as you remember. It's hard to hear him over the din of the pub. You tell yourself that's why you lean into him a bit when he speaks, though you turn it into a snatching motion easily enough.

"That why you stole my hat?" 

John deflects you casually, turning your hand away somehow both deftly and gently. His grip changes once he has you under control, turning instead to guide you into the booth next to him. His arm finds the seat back behind you, but you stubbornly remain leaning forward, refusing to ease into him this time.

"Cap didn't steal it," Gaz corrects, eyes lingering on the captain's hand where he still grips your wrist. "I did."

It's hard to accept the fact that Kyle could ever escape your notice, but you suppose he's earned his position in life for a reason. "Right." You round on John, "So did you lose a bet?"

The captain chuckles. His thumb smoothes along the heel of your hand and then is gone, tipping the amber whiskey of his drink absently. "Won one, actually. Gaz here wanted to be the one to wear it."

"Would've looked better with my complexion," the other man reasons, batting his pretty eyes at you exaggeratedly. Far behind him, you spot your date sputtering indignantly to a waitress, the poor girl's face clearly disinterested. So much for your shoe-in. You refuse to acknowledge why that doesn't bother you as much as it would have even just five minutes ago.

"Yeah, well, if I only got to wear the things I wear better, I'd be walking around naked," John gripes goodnaturedly. "Isn't that right, flower?"

Kyle saves you from sputtering out an answer by sighing wistfully. "If only."

John smirks indulgently at him and you blink away, feeling like an outsider when you see the older man's hand disappear under the table, movement suggesting he's rubbing Kyle's leg. You try not to remember how it felt to have those heavy hands on you. "Can I get my hat back, please?"

"Well, at least you remembered your manners this time," John grumbles. You'd try snatching it off his head again just for the commentary, if you weren't becoming increasingly certain it would land you sprawled across his lap.

"Where you rushing off to anyway?" Kyle adds. He slides the third drink in front of John your way. "Drink with us."

You eye the fruity, fluorescent monstrosity before you skeptically. They don't seem the type to meet barely legal ladies out for a drink in a tiny place like this, but you can't imagine they'd had anyone else in mind when John had ordered whatever this was. "You expecting someone younger?"

John's low laugh makes his mustache twitch. "Heard once that a good rule of thumb if you don't know someone's drink order, is to try and match their outfit." He ducks his chin, looking you over from under his brow. In theory, it should seem more judgemental than appraising, but you still feel like he's assessing your outfit by removing it first.

Self consciously, you run your hand over the flowery blue dress you have on, distracting yourself from thinking too hard about what it meant that he'd bought you a drink. You suppose the color is a bit electric, but the way it fits more than makes up for its flashiness. Or at least, you'd thought it did. Now, seeing it paired with some stomach turning blue curaçao concoction, you feel much less certain about that. "You heard wrong. Besides, I can't stay. I'm on a date," you sniff. You probably shouldn't drink anything handed to you by men you knew were stalking you anyway.

Kyle shrugs agreeably, swapping your drink for his simple rum and coke as he asks who you're out with. You eye it warily, but spot the smudge of Kyle's own lips on the edge so you figure it's safe enough to drink, though you make a point of wiping it off, sneering at Kyle when he laughs at you. 

"Stock broker Jeremiah," you recite, trying to keep the jeer from your tone. You motion back behind yourself. "Over there." 

"Stock broker?" John repeats, voice so thick the words fall from his lips like smoke. You think you spot a smirk hidden in his chops. 

"That your type, luv?"

"Not particularly," you admit. "But he'll have to do, seeing as the last one didn't take too kindly to being stood up."

Kyle tuts, tone too amused to be sympathetic. "Didn't believe you'd been laid up?"

"Should've had him call us, flower. We could've vouched for you," John suggests. Somehow, you know introducing these two to any prospective partners would be a terrible idea.

Still, it sounds amusing.

You shrug, wishing you had a beer bottle to peer the label off of. "Jeremiah makes good money," you offer, the only thing you can really remember from Jeremiah's profile. John hums, lower than the din of the room. Kyle's face is too blank, the same strict discipline he used with his cheek glued to his rifle. Briefly, you're back under John, the din of the surrounding crowd swallowed up by your twin heartbeats. Your eyes flick between the two, take in the tight control of their expressions. It would probably fool most, but you've spent your fair share of time studying the minutiae of faces, the way muscles twitch under stimuli no matter how properly trained the model. Even dead tissue will contract when properly motivated. "He's just bought me a new camera, in fact."

Gaz scoffs. John's eyes narrow. The two exchange sidelong glances and you sip your drink. You'd believed John when he'd said he'd replace your camera, but after being split up at base he'd never located you again and no one had been very forthcoming with information as to how you could contact your new friends to collect. A week after the incident, a cheap, basic camera and a base model macro lens had appeared on your step, the packaging cold and impersonal, shipped direct from the warehouse. No new boots ever came. The camera hadn't been anywhere near as nice as the one you'd lost, but it wasn't like there was a calling card you could air your grievances to so you'd cut your losses and just thanked whoever was listening that you'd even made it out of that valley alive. Now, however, watching the men who'd promised to take care of everything have their pride bruised by some asshole in a button up too expensive to deign resting his silken elbows on the dirty table of the bar he'd decided you were fit for, the weeks of frustration almost seemed worth it. And so what if it wasn't true anyway?

"Excuse me." 

Your date's sudden appearance nearly makes you jump out of your skin, the prospect of introducing him to these men suddenly far less appealing when John rumbles, "Don't think I will."

Jeremiah sneers at him before turning to you. "I'm heading out. Don't think this -," he motions between the two of you, lets his finger swirl around the table to include the boys when the motion peters out, "- is for me. Have a good one, yeah?"

"Oh, um, okay. Sor-."

John stops you. "Don't apologize to him, petal. It's him there owes you one."

"And why would I need to apologize?" 

"Existing?" Kyle suggests.

"Wasting her time?" John tacks on. 

"Insulting my dress," you decide.

Kyle's tsk noise draws your attention. When you look, he's got those exaggeratedly huge eyes darting between you and your date. "When it fits you like that?" he clarifies, making you blush.

"Right wanker," John agrees. His voice is still playful, but the look he's leveling Jeremiah with is anything but. 

"It's - it's -. It's blue!" your date sputters, waving at you as if your offense should be obvious.

John leans close, mustache tickling your ear. "Sounds like a man who can't appreciate a good pair of obnoxiously yellow wellies."

"You threw my wellies in the creek," you counter, too amused to muster much anger.

"Bought you new ones," Kyle offers and you narrow your eyes at him because, following you or not, there's no way they could know -.

"What size?"

Kyle just grins. "On the first date?"

"On our first date," Jeremiah reminds you.

You ignore them both, rounding on John. "And you ripped off my hat!" To illustrate your point, you attempt to snatch it back again, but the captain ducks it just as easily as he did the first time.

"I'll give it back when you make me a new one."

"Wait, I stole it fair and square," Kyle counters. John doesn't dodge him as easily, the silver streaks of his dark, mussed hair catching the light just like your yarn did. He doesn't even bother trying to snatch it back, watching with fond eyes as Kyle replaces his hat with your own. He'd been right, he does wear it better.

"If I make you one too, will you give it back?"

"Fat chance," the sergeant scoffs, and with an expert toss, he saucers his own hat onto your head, grinning like a fool when you let John tug it more firmly on. 

A scoff behind you draws their attention. John glares over your shoulder again, but Kyle just waves, cheeky enough to elicit another humorless laugh. Byt the time you turn around, your date's already on his way. You're not particularly upset by it, figuring even if… whatever this is… doesn't pan out to anything, at least you'll have spent the evening in better company than originally planned.

The boys are both staring at you when you look back. You don't bother acting disappointed, though you know there's a version of this evening that sees you spitting mad, being soothed and gentled like a finicky horse with big hands and hushed tones. As appealing as it sounds, you'd rather spend your time actually talking, making up for your first meeting with them when you couldn't do much beyond gripe about your position, or whine about being bored. So instead you shrug, and the boy's smirks turn leery, and you suppress a shiver when Kyle leans across the table toward you, voice low when he asks what kind of camera 'the suit' bought you.

You panic in your response a bit, all higher end models you've had your eyes on for weeks fleeing your brain. Instead you tell them about the cheap thing you'd received in the mail and John scoffs.

"Got you something much better," he promises, pulling his phone from one of his many pockets and flicking through it. When he turns it toward you, an email confirmation tells him his package has been delivered, the details of the order showing the next model up from the very one he'd thrown in the brook. The description of the lens is cut off at the bottom, but you've no doubt you'll be happy enough when you see the pricing details. "You'll forgive the delay, of course. Man's gotta do some research, after all."

You'd even forgive the wellies continuing to go unreplaced, though in your excitement you forget to express that. "Of course. Of course! Thank you so much, John!" You're still gushing gratitudes when you slip out of the booth, turning to excuse yourself so quickly you even forget to snatch your hat back.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To go get -?" You stall, taking in their confused - even slightly miffed - expressions. "Look, if that package sits on my stoop too long, my neighbors will -."

Kyle laughs, crooks his finger at you. It's embarrassing how quickly you oblige, slipping right back into your seat just because his eyes are too warm and inviting to disappoint. 

John's voice is much closer than you remember it being before you'd stood, the low rumble in his chest a physical thing you feel against your shoulder when he leans close. "No need to worry, petal. It's back at mine. Safe as houses."

"Didn't have your address," Kyle winks. 

It's weird, the way you can laugh at jokes about being followed. You decide not to think about it too much. "Sounds more like an elaborate plot to get me back at yours."

"Well, we're unused to not getting our mark," John confesses, "had to have another shot at it."

Kyle's cheeky when he responds, his boyish grin enough to have you settling against John before you even know what you're about. "For the record, I never did take a shot the first time."

[starsofang]

HI OMG I FINALLY HAVE A CUTE REQ FOR GAZ :) reader goes to the store to buy him flowers after learning that he's coming back home from deployment and ended up bumping into him buying flowers for THEM

anon you have my heart

When Kyle told you that he was on his way back from a month long deployment, you were ecstatic. You were running on hyperactive fumes, nearly bouncing off of the walls with anticipation of his arrival. You wanted everything to be perfect, you wanted him to come home and be showered in affection.

You spent the majority of the day cleaning and prepping for his arrival. The house was pristine and spotless, all of his favorite snacks and drinks stocked up in the pantry, his clothes rewarmed in the dryer so he could change and be cozy. There was only one thing missing.

Flowers!

Kyle sent you a text, letting you know he would be home in the next hour. That gave you plenty of time to run down to the store and pick up a bouquet to surprise him with, and you made quick haste so you could pick out the perfect one.

The store was busy when you arrived, but you were so high up on cloud nine that you didn’t mind. You were practically skipping through the store to find the flowers, debating on the way if you should pick up any more snacks or maybe even some balloons (but maybe that was a bit too much).

Arriving at the flowers and smiling to yourself at the sight of them, you immediately came to a stop when you saw a curly head of hair looming over the colorful bouquets, picking one up to smell it before setting it back down. He stood tall and awfully familiar.

As if sensing your presence, he glanced up, caramel eyes meeting yours. At first, he offered a polite smile, but when he noticed it was you he was smiling at, he became more heart-eyed.

It took everything in you not to tackle him in the middle of the store. Instead, you stepped up to him with a cheeky smile, pretending to look down at the bouquets.

“If your partner was buying you flowers, which ones would you want them to get you?” you asked teasingly. The sound of his laugh lit up a warmth, glowing light in your chest. Oh, how you missed it.

“I’m quite particular to tulips,” he joked back, holding out the bouquet in his hand that he was sniffing previously. “But I’m sure your husband would be happy to get any kind.”

Ah, husband. Even being married, it still made you feel like a giddy school girl whenever he came home.

The two of you shared childish giggles before you picked up a bouquet of your own. You turned to him, all smiles and sweetness, holding out the flowers for him to take while he did the same for you. The both of you exchanged the bouquets you’d respectively picked out for one another.

“I was hoping to surprise you, Kyle,” you pouted, and the sight of it made him grin.

“I was hoping to surprise you,” he retorted lightly. “Guess we’re both bad at it.”

Your pout didn’t last long and before you knew it, he wrapped you up in his arms in front of the cheesy flower display, uncaring of the shoppers around him. His hug was warm and inviting, and you couldn’t help but melt into it. It was sunshine on a rainy day.

“I missed you,” you murmured into his neck where your face was buried. He chuckled warmly, tightening his hold on you.

“I missed you more, bug. Let’s go home. Gotta put all these flowers in a vase, yeah?”

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Wingman (if you squint)

Hyde has a hard time accepting his baby brother is dating but when he attempts to help him ends up embarrassing him a bit

Wc: 1k

He is going to kill him. Rip his head out if needed to have some privacy. Leo looked at him like he was crazy when he asked him if something just moved between those trees before getting brushed off with a ‘you should sleep more, managing that truck must be making you go crazy’ and return to doxxing some rich old men.

But now he was sure, as you were helping him close the truck after lunch he turned to grab a box and saw a white flash hide behind the piano. If it was the first time that week he might have only yelled at him a bit but after getting seriously stalked for at least a month he might end up getting an angry call from their mother because of the state he is going to leave him in.

First it was when you two were hanging out in the fireplace, both sharing a hammock.

“Hey, Sho” you nudge your head against his shoulder, in response he doesn't really move his eyes from his phone but does let out a hum acknowledging you “that spot is really empty” he hums again and mumbles something along the lines of ‘yeah, I guess’ “wouldn't that make a nice spot for a food truck”

“Mc…”

“Just think about that” you sit up while holding his arm, making him sit up while complaining. When he sits he lays his head on your shoulder and anchors himself with a hug around your waist “You could put your truck there and work while I wait here, eating some chips and I can go get you things if you need”

“Maybe…. That would be nice” he mumbles against your skin, looking at the spot before seeing a blur hide behind the old arcade machine a few meters away but brushing it off as his imagination. Even then his arm itches in annoyance but could be the uniform's textile.

The second time he thought he was seeing things was at the manantial it's early morning, the classes don't start in an hour but still you two are walking together to waste some time.

“Would your soups taste different if you used this water?”

“Maybe, but I don't think they would taste good” you look at him in confusion, head dipping to the side “there is a supposed deep water monster in there, according to some vagastorm third years”

“Then make fish stock!” your hand pinches the air with your hand as if it was a piranha and start aiming to his body.

“You are disgusting” he laughs at the childish act and lays the palm of his hand on your face so you stay far enough to not tickle his ribs. Suddenly he stops smiling and focuses on the dragon skeleton, a blur seemingly hiding again behind the railings and the column of the ouija plaza.

“I'm sorry! I didn't notice you got annoyed with it”

“It wasn't that! It's just I thought I saw something strange”

“Oh~~ mayhaps a love dove? Don't you want to tell me something?” you tease as you suddenly stick your shoulder to him, acting shy as if he was going to confess.

“Such an annoying senpai” he tsks looking away, hand scratching his neck and tips of his ears slightly red. Even if you were embarrassing him he was relieved you didn't notice anything weird and killed the mood.

Or the time you two were at the arcade and something was lurking by the adjacent window of the haunted house or how the books falling over when you two were studying for a mission together or Alan calling that someone wanted to meet him while you were hanging out in vagastorm but coming out there is nobody and even Alan is surprised. After a while he figures who it is and is a bit relieved he isn't going crazy but mad he is getting supervised like a toddler.

But he would get to him later, now he has to wrap this up and that would be everything for today.

“Sho, can you lend me 500 yen? I left my pencil case at home and my pencil broke during last class" you put down another of the boxes before asking him, childishly rubbing your hands together as if begging.

He snorts but still looks for his wallet “you are so irresponsible, aren't upper classmates supposed to help their kohais?”

“Don't get so mad at me, when I take lunch from your food truck tomorrow I will bring it” kicking your feet you see something slipping out of Sho's wallet, quickly you bend down and hand it to him, not recognizing what it was until he looked distraught at the little packet between your fingers “sho, something fell down… oh” What fell down from his pocket was a condom “were you expect a happy ending later today?” you tease as you slip the condom in his shirt pocket.

“quit it” he turns around and starts walking to the cafeteria so you can't see his red face.

“H-hey! you didn't give me the money”

Soon after throwing you a 500 yen coin pen Sho sprints to Hyde's office, his stalker and the only one who would have the chance to slip something in his wallet without him noticing, slamming the door open and almost unhinging it accidentally with his abnormal strength and he comes face to face with the bane of his existence thorn on his side, his older brother. Who isn't surprised to see him burning in rage

“Want to explain something asshole?”

“Shohei you finally visit me!” he spreads his arms as if he was going to go for a hug.

“shut the fuck up! What the hell is this supposed mean?” he lifts the offending wrapped condom and stares at his brother, white hair slightly disheveled as he ran as fast as he could.

“I just thought that if you are going to date you might as well be careful” he brings his hand to his mouth and acts bashful “you are just 19 sho, babies shouldn't be having babies”

Snapping at him his hands grasp his own platinum hair “it fell down and now they surely think I'm a pervert because of you”

“At least a responsible pervert! That is better in most people's than a rascal who has unprotected sex”

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: No matter what Bradley did, you seemed frustrated with him. You needed a new car, but you needed to start communicating with him even more. He was scrambling to try to fix everything, but it was hard when you could barely stay awake for a conversation.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, pregnancy topics, angst

Length: 5900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

When nearly a week had gone by, and you still wouldn't focus on picking out a new car for yourself, Bradley was starting to get frustrated. Sharing the Bronco with you wasn't a big deal. You respected it and treated it well, but he had to play nice when you wanted to use it to go to brunch on Sunday with Cam and Maria at the same time he wanted to play golf.

"Can't Jake pick you up?" you asked him with an annoyed sigh. "I'll text him and ask if he can come get you."

"Why can't Cam or Maria pick you up?" he asked, feeling kind of fucking fed up with you at the moment. 

"Fine," you replied, an eerily calm expression taking over your face. "I'll have one of them pick me up for brunch in the morning. Don't worry about it."

You turned on your heel and walked back to the bedroom leaving Bradley raking his fingers through his hair. He had finally started to feel normal again after having your parents at the house for a few days. It's not like they were even loud or inconsiderate, but he just struggled a bit with it anyway. He wasn't used to closing the bedroom door knowing Tramp liked to wander around the house at all hours of the day and night. He liked to take a piss with the bathroom door open, and he liked to randomly reach up under your shirt when you were in the kitchen if you welcomed it. And he just couldn't do any of that with other people in the house, even though it was family. 

"Fuck," he mumbled. It wasn't even a big deal for you to take the Bronco to brunch. Jake or Javy could easily get him on their way to the golf course, and now he needed to go apologize to you. But the bedroom door was closed when he got there, and he immediately felt like he needed to be touching you, because you were literally the only person who could be in his personal space all day long and not usually annoy him in the slightest. 

When he turned the knob, he was relieved to find it wasn't locked. "Baby Girl?" he called out cautiously, and then he found you in the bathroom. "Shit," he whispered, watching you wipe your eyes before turning toward the mirror, but there was no way to hide from him in here. "I'm sorry."

"Could you just leave me alone?" you asked without looking at him.

The words caused him physical pain, because that was the last thing he wanted right now. He'd gotten used to how much better everything was recently, and he was absolutely unwilling to stop communicating with you. "Can we talk about it? About a car? We could buy one tomorrow if you pick one out."

You turned and snapped at him. "Maybe next time just don't fuck up the one I already have!"

He had apologized to you countless times. He'd given your shit car a eulogy. He had offered to buy you any car you found that you wanted, but now he was just as mad as you were. "I just wanted to tell you that you can use the Bronco tomorrow."

"How generous," you replied sarcastically. "But I already told you I'll get a ride from Cam or Maria. Now would you please leave me alone?"

Bradley nodded and retreated back to the living room couch with Tramp, because he didn't know what else to do. He stretched out and decided to look at cars until you resurfaced to make dinner. There were two huge dealerships in San Diego that had the current model year of your old car, and they both had them stocked in several colors with different options available. You could get a new red one with a sunroof and gray interior just like you had before. He'd upgrade the stereo package to make riding in it less painful for him, but he'd buy it right now if you said it's what you wanted. 

As he thought back to the way you dragged your feet about wedding planning, he muttered a string of obscenities. At this rate, he'd be sharing the Bronco with you for a long time. He bookmarked a bunch of new cars, and then he searched all over the country to see if anyone was selling an exact replica of the one he totaled. A few hours later, it occurred to him that you never came back out of the bedroom. He scooped up Tramp where he'd fallen asleep on his chest and carried him back down the hallway. 

You were sound asleep in bed, curled up on your side, breathing softly. Bradley checked the time again. It was only 7:15, but maybe you just needed to rest. He tucked the covers up around your shoulders and kissed your forehead before venturing back out to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before working out.

------------------------

By the middle of the week, you were aggressively annoyed by everything, but mostly Bradley's voice. On Sunday, Cam picked you up for brunch even though Bradley told you a million times you could use the Bronco. You didn't even want to use the Bronco. He could use it all day long. And then you went back to Cam's place and lounged on his couch until you were starting to get hungry for dinner. If Bradley wondered why you were out for a six hour brunch, he didn't ask. 

But when he eventually called your phone, you asked Cam to drive you home. "Your husband is like a twelve out of ten," he murmured as he drove you. "Don't be mean to him." Then you climbed out of his car onto your driveway and rolled your eyes, because after that he was getting on your nerves, too.

So on Monday and Tuesday, you just avoided Bradley as much as you could at work after driving in with him, but on Wednesday, as he pulled into the parking garage, he cleared his throat. "Hard Deck tonight?"

"You can go," you replied as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You can take the Bronco, and I'll just stay home." You bit your lip immediately as you said the words, because you felt like crying. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you as tears burned your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was skip a fun night out. You also didn't know why you couldn't commit to a car. Everything felt like too much the last few days, and you wanted to scream.

"Can we talk about this?" Bradley asked, his voice pleading with you, but you didn't even know what to say. 

"Later," you told him before heading for the building, but he was right behind you, undeterred.

"Don't give me that later bullshit. We've been talking and communicating a lot better, and I absolutely refuse to stop doing either of those things!"

You spun around so fast, he almost collided with you. "I have a meeting with Bickel, okay? About Annapolis. And it starts in twenty minutes. And I'm tired. And I miss my car. And I need to go."

After that, you weren't sure if he followed you or not, because you didn't turn around to check. When you got to your office and opened your computer, you saw the calendar reminder that made more tears cloud your vision. You cradled your forehead in your hand. Saturday was Carole Bradshaw's birthday. 

The fact that you forgot it was coming up was worrying, because you couldn't let work take over your life again like it had in the past. You'd been mentally planning to make another fancy dinner to celebrate her day, the way you had for both of Bradley's parents' birthdays last year. Filet mignon and crab cakes and brownies. 

Fuck. You wanted to sit alone in your office and cry all morning, but now you had four minutes until you had to sit down with your boss. You pulled yourself together the best you could and made your way to talk to Bickel. Cat was there too, and you could feel her intense gaze on you as if she was physically touching you. You knew she could tell something was on your mind, but you sat as calmly as you could and looked through the folder of information that was given to you. 

Bickel folded his hands on his desk and said, "I'm letting the two of you decide how you'd like to present our work in Annapolis. I'm trying to finalize some dates for us, but it's looking like the first week of August. This would add two million dollars to our pending budget for next year, which would give us the opportunity to explore an even more advanced comms system. And it would be a great way for me to push for your promotion, Lieutenant Coleman."

"Yes, Sir," Cat replied immediately. When you were both dismissed, she took you by the arm out in the hallway and whispered, "Please, I need you to focus on this for me. Okay? Why do you look like you're on the verge of tears?"

"I'm having a bad week," you whispered, still unsure why you felt like this. Your fingers were tingling, and you were so anxious, you were about to walk yourself to see Dr. Genevieve. But you hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost lunchtime now after Bickel kept you so long. "I need lunch," you told Cat, and she sighed and walked down to the cafeteria with you.

Part of you wanted to see Bradley, but part of you did not. And something about the idea of a burrito bowl was turning your stomach just looking at it. You picked out a sandwich and some soup and found a spot at a table that was completely empty except for Bob. 

"Hi," you said softly, and he looked up from his notebook with a smile as you slid into the seat across from him. 

"Hi," he replied in his sweet voice that immediately made you feel calmer. "I actually was hoping to see you to thank you again. Maria has been really accommodating about me moving in, and this way I don't have to commute into the city every day."

You waved him off as you tried a spoonful of the flavorless soup. "I'm just happy it worked out. For both of you. I didn't want Maria to have some creep move in since she couldn't find anyone else. And obviously you're just lovely, Bob."

He visibly bristled a bit. "No, she shouldn't have to deal with a creepy roommate."

Then Jake dropped down in the seat next to yours and turned to smile as Cat sat on his other side. "Angel. What the hell are you doing to Rooster now?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, looking around, but your husband and Nat were still in line for food. 

"He's fucking miserable today. Cranky as hell. And I know for a fact nothing can set that man off the way you can. It's honestly pretty funny, but he did snap at me three times. It's like dealing with Hondo all over again."

"Sorry," you heard Cat mutter as she ate her lunch.

You gripped your spoon in your hand and took a deep breath, but all you could say was, "I don't know." You truly didn't know what was going on. Your brain was in a constant fog, and you felt so antsy. 

Bradley sat across the table from you, eyeing you carefully from his spot next to Bob. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you didn't know if it came across that way when he just looked sadder. 

"Who's coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked loudly.

After Jake and Cat agreed to go, you quietly said, "Not me. I have to catch up on some things I was supposed to read, but I'll drop Bradley off for the night."

Your husband shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but Nat was already squeezing his shoulder. "Sounds good," she said, and after that, he sat quietly. 

----------------------------

Bradley flew all afternoon, and it was bad. Just really, very bad. He was distracted, and the fact that Javy had to keep repeating himself was about to earn Bradley a lecture from Maverick if he didn't pull it together. But you were just making him so sad, and he had no idea why you were currently barely able to look at him without crying or yelling. 

He hadn't even done anything. Had he? Yeah, he'd completely destroyed your beloved car, but the visit with your parents had gone pretty well. He hadn't missed any important dates of anniversaries. He'd been keeping up with his chores at home. 

You'd been running a bit hot and cold in the bedroom. He'd never push you for more than you wanted to do, but then perhaps he hadn't been good for you recently? The mere thought had him squirming and sweating in his cockpit as he followed Javy into a dive. Shit. Could that be it? He always got you off. Except that he knew he hadn't in the family bathroom at the Padres game, but you and he had been in a rush. And that night last week when you started yawning while you rode him, he distinctly remembered you saying it didn't matter if you came since you were so tired.

Shit. Things had been going great, he didn't realize what he'd been doing, and now he had to figure out how to fix it when you seemed so disinterested in talking to him. As he brought his jet back down to the tarmac he tried to come up with a plan, but he felt helpless. These were the times he felt like having a mother of his own would come in handy, because he couldn't exactly take this to your mom. 

"Fuck." He wrenched his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. You were sending him off to the bar alone tonight to get him out of your space, he could tell. So maybe the best thing he could do right now was just follow your lead. 

After he showered and headed for the parking garage, he found you leaning against the side of the Bronco waiting for him. "Hi, Sweetheart," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.

Your quiet response of, "Hi, Roo," made him feel a lot better, and you let him buckle you in, which was great. But then you said, "I'll just drop you off at the bar later and come back for you. I have some things I want to get done."

He nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want." 

Back at home, he was able to coax you onto his lap for dinner at the dining room table, and even though it was a quiet affair, he didn't mind. He just rubbed his hand up and down your back, and eventually you sank back against him even though you'd only had a few bites of food. You were practically asleep on him as he finished eating, but you jolted up when his phone vibrated against your hip.

"It's probably just Nat," he whispered, and you nodded as you checked the time. 

"I'll drop you off whenever you're ready, and I'll come back for you around ten?"

He cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to come? I can help you get caught up with work tomorrow or this weekend. I'm a pretty good helper."

You cracked the tiniest smile as you said, "I'm just not in the mood. You go and drink and have fun, and I'll come back for you."

He kissed your cheek. "I'll be waiting, ready to come home with you whenever you get there."

--------------------------

When Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, you watched him head inside the bar. He was wearing his white and yellow floral print shirt, part of the matching set that he'd bought for the two of you, and he looked so sexy, you were thrumming with need. You were all over the place. A few days ago, the mere sight of him had you ready to climb out the window, and now you were on the verge of chasing him down to fuck you.

"Get a grip. My god," you moaned as you pulled back onto the road. At least now you could go to the store and purchase everything you'd need to make Carole's birthday dinner in peace. 

The store was quiet, which was great, because you didn't currently know if something was about to set you off. You grabbed a cart, and the cool metal against your hands felt nice. A smile found its way to your face as you listened to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac playing throughout the store and picked out some beautiful looking steaks. Then you found everything for the crab cakes and the brownies, and you got a bottle of expensive champagne. 

You were already feeling better now, almost excited to celebrate the mother-in-law that you'd never had the privilege of meeting. She deserved a special day and a fancy dinner, because even though you didn't know her personally, you were absolutely certain Carole Bradshaw was incredible. The sparkle of your engagement ring caught your eye, and you stood in front of the wine and champagne and sobbed quietly until you felt like you could continue shopping. 

It had to be the combination of work and her birthday and your car that was setting you off. No matter how bad it made you feel, you'd pick out a new car this weekend. You knew there was enough in your savings account for a down payment, so you just had to force yourself to bite the bullet. You'd do it for Bradley and for yourself. 

While you unpacked the groceries, you made a sandwich, finally hungry again after you'd barely been able to eat dinner. But that started to make you too full after just half of it. "Don't tell Daddy," you whispered before feeding it to Tramp. 

Then you sat at the island and read through the folder from Bickel. You had weeks of research and planning ahead of you, but it would be worth it for the grant money. Cat was a solid gold choice as a partner for this, especially since she was motivated by that promotion she wanted. You were excited, but realistically so. You needed to make sure you didn't overdo things this time around. You could rely on Cat as much as yourself, and you knew that now.

When you checked the time on your phone, it was already 10:30. You texted Bradley and let him know you'd be there soon. When you started the Bronco, you got a text back.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Can't wait for you to take me home.

You smiled and sang on your way there, already feeling better about having everything for Carole's birthday dinner ready to go. You parked the Bronco and headed inside, twirling Bradley's keyring on your fingers. As soon as you pushed the door open, the wave of noise hit you, and you made a beeline for the pool table. Penny's summer drink specials must have been on point, because the place was packed.

Just when you were trying to squeeze between two massive guys, you caught sight of Bradley just in time to see a woman walk up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. Maybe he thought it was you at first, because he spun to face her with a smile on his face. You got jostled around a little bit as your steps faltered and came to a stop. Bradley was conversing a bit with her now, although his smile was gone, and you watched as she reached up with her perfectly manicured nails and dragged them along his paper airplane tattoo on his bicep.

"Oh, hell no," you gasped, registering that Bradley looked surprised, and not in a good way. But you were frozen to the spot now as disgust, embarrassment and jealousy washed over you. It wasn't like he wasn't wearing his wedding band. He was. How was that not enough? You couldn't decide if you wanted to run away or rip her head off.

Bradley immediately started to back away from her, shaking his head as he went, and then his gaze connected with yours. He mouthed your name, and you could see the concern on his face as you swallowed hard. Instead of running away, you stood there like an idiot when he came rushing in your direction.

"Sweetheart," he said, reaching for your hand, his eyes on yours. 

"Who's your friend?" you asked. Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else while your throat burned. 

You let him wrap one big hand around your back and pull you closer, holding you there. "No idea. Never saw her before thirty seconds ago."

"I didn't like her touching you."

His eyebrow quirked up as his hand dipped a little lower. "Neither did I. Especially since I got the tattoo for you, Baby Girl."

You had your arms around his neck instantly, the other woman forgotten as you kissed your husband. He tasted like your favorite beer, and you whimpered. But your body felt somehow both too tender and too needy pressed up against him as you said, "It's for me. Mine. Let's go home."

-------------------------

Bradley let you drive since he'd had a fair amount to drink. That fucking woman just about ruined his night by asking him what he was drinking and then touching his arm, feigning interest in his unique tattoo. The past week had already felt like touch and go with you, and he was unwilling to make it worse. He still wasn't quite sure how to get things back to where they had been just a short time ago. 

When you parked in the driveway in the spot where you used to park your car, he almost winced. But you crawled over to his lap and started to unbutton his shirt. "Take me to bed," you told him, rubbing yourself on him through his jeans. 

He grunted in response, carrying you up to the porch and wrestling with his key in the lock as you kissed his neck. Clothing was discarded along the way, and when he got you in the bedroom with the soft lamplight illuminating your skin, he moaned. 

"Jesus Christ, you're a dream."

Truly, your tits had never looked better, and somehow the aroused looking little scowl you were shooting his way was really working him up as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. He was hard when you finally pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top. 

"I love you," he promised as your lips met his, and you sank down around his length. Warm and wet and perfect. Holy shit, you felt incredible as you rolled your hips slowly, his hands settling at your waist. You were velvety smooth everywhere. The only thing he wanted. 

He held your hips in his hands and thrust up into you as his lips met your nipple. You moaned as he licked you, but as soon as he sucked hard, pulling you between his lips, you gasped. So he did it again and again, but your hips stilled and your hands left his shoulders and reached for his cheeks.

"It hurts," you gasped, pushing his face away from your chest. "Stop."

He let his head settle back on the pillow. "Sorry." Tentatively, he brought his hand up to your left breast and gave you a nice squeeze, but you pulled away further. Then you were kneeling next to him with your arms crossed over your chest. "Sorry," he repeated. "But I always touch you that way?"

You burst into tears and said, "It just hurts."

And that was the last thing you said to him for the night as you crawled under the covers. As soon as Bradley got his erection under control by pacing around the bathroom, he walked back to the bed to find you sound asleep.

On Thursday and Friday, you didn't even acknowledge it. When he asked if it was okay if he touched you on Thursday morning, you went willingly into his arms as the toaster popped out your breakfast. And on Friday morning, you let him snuggle with you a little bit before you got out of bed, so at least he was fairly convinced you weren't too mad at him. But he just knew he hadn't been doing enough for you in bed which really pissed him off. 

He was older than everyone else around him seemingly all the time, and now he was feeling insecure about it again. If he could just manage to get you to have a real conversation with him, then he'd try to fix this. But you were busy with work, something else that had a red flag shooting up in the back of his mind. No, he was not going to fuck this all up yet again. You and he had something special, and he was going to demand a conversation. 

--------------------------

You poked at your lunch on Friday as Jake and Bradley argued next to you in the cafeteria. You were barely able to pay attention to them, because you were so tired, and you had another meeting with Bickel in an hour. As far as you could tell, you were getting the flu, which seemed weird for July, but nothing else made sense. 

No matter how much you slept, you were exhausted. Your body was aching, and you were so damn moody. You'd practically accosted Bradley on Wednesday after you picked him up from the bar, but then you fell asleep as soon as you told him your breasts hurt. You felt embarrassed now as you looked at him next to you, because after all of that, you didn't even let him finish that night. 

As you adjusted your shirt, you could have screamed at how tender your nipples were. At least it was Friday. You could catch up on reading for your presentation research, and then you could sleep. 

"Come on, Rooster," Jake complained. "You have to come tomorrow. I'll leave the hard seltzers at home, and Javy and I will behave."

Bradley turned to look at you with big, brown eyes before he told Jake, "No. No golf tomorrow. I have some things I need to take care of." Then he turned back toward you and softly said, "We're talking tomorrow. About a bunch of stuff. Until we are sorted out."

Now you felt guilty as Jake shot you a look. "We can talk tomorrow afternoon, Roo. Go play golf."

"Yeah, Bradshaw," Jake piped up. "Angel said you can do shit with her in the afternoon. So you'll come with Bob, Javy and I? You know Reuben sucks at golf. He's even worse than you."

"Go," you told Bradley, kissing the edge of his mustache before you stood. "Yes, Jake, he will be golfing tomorrow. I plan on sleeping in, and the quiet house will be nice."

Bradley reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he looked up at you. "I love you."

You nodded. "I love you, too. I need to go get ready for a meeting." His eyes were on your body as you walked away, but you needed to focus on work right now. 

It was all you could do to go back to Bickel's office with Cat and not fall asleep in his soft leather chair. Your boss's calm voice and the warm room were almost too much for your senses. You were fighting with yourself to keep your eyes open. Fighting with everything you had to stay engaged. An hour went by and then two, and he was still talking, and so was Cat, and they kept asking you for input. You were clinging to your extensive knowledge on the subject matter and hoping for the best when Bickel's desk phone rang, and he finally dismissed you. 

"This is so exciting," Cat gushed out in the cooler hallway. "I was telling Jake last night that you and I are going to have the best presentation at the Naval Academy next month, and do you know what he said?"

"Hmm?" you hummed as you walked to the lab.

"He offered to watch Jeremiah!"

"Oh." You hadn't even really considered how hard it would be for Cat to go to Maryland with you, but this was probably a big deal. Jeremiah wasn't even two yet. "Wow. Look at Jake being an exceptional boyfriend. Good thing I pushed the two of you to actually communicate with each other."

Cat laughed and hugged you before entering the lab, but you cringed. Communication. You'd talk to Bradley tomorrow afternoon. You'd pick a car tomorrow afternoon. But when you got home today, you were going to take your temperature and then get in bed. 

You had to wait by the Bronco for such a long time, you contemplated texting Bradley to see what the holdup was. It was late, you were actually starving, and you wanted to go home. You shifted your bag from one shoulder to the other, beyond annoyed that there was only one key to this thing; you couldn't even sit inside. You glared at the pretty blue paint, really missing your ugly red car with your whole heart when you heard boots pounding the pavement behind you.

"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley gasped. He must have run the whole way here from the tarmac since he was still in his flight suit. "We ran over. I should have left the keys with you this morning. I"m sorry."

You nodded as he helped you in the passenger side door and buckled you in. "Okay."

He pulled out of the parking garage, glancing at you every few seconds. "All you're going to say is okay?"

You yawned wishing you could get undressed. "What do you want me to say, Bradley?"

He was quiet for a few blocks, but when he turned down your street, he let loose. "I want you to say something more than okay. I want you to fucking talk to me, alright? I feel like everything I'm doing right now is making you mad at me, and I hate that. I fucking hate it." He hit the brakes a little hard in the driveway, and now you were alert as you started crying. 

"Fuck!" Bradley growled, hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He looked so upset right now, you didn't even know what to do as tears streamed down your cheeks. Then he was running across the driveway and helping you out of the Bronco and into the house, but the tears kept coming. And now your head was throbbing and you felt so sick. 

"I just want to go to bed," you gasped. "Please," you begged as he kissed your forehead over and over again while Tramp jumped around. 

"Of course," Bradley whispered, his lips meeting your face again before he knelt in front of you. He kissed your thighs through your khaki pants and helped you out of your boots, looking up at your face which you were sure looked like a wreck. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I yelled." 

"It's okay," you managed as the room spun a little bit. "I just need to get in bed."

He carried you there, and it felt amazing to not have to walk. Then he set you on the bed and undressed you as he asked, "Do you want some water? A snack?"

You nodded and got under the covers, and said, "Yes, please," as you started to doze off. All you managed to do was eat a handful of trail mix and chug a glass of water before you passed out. 

When you eventually woke up, you felt a little better, but when you rolled over, the other half of the bed was empty and cold. It was eight in the morning according to your phone. You'd just slept for over twelve hours, and Bradley was out playing golf now. The cool fabric of his pillow on your face felt so nice, you rolled over all the way. You must have a fever and the flu. You felt too hot, and your breasts were aching. So was your abdomen. Your period was probably about to start. 

You frowned and looked at your phone again, opening the calendar app. It was Carole's birthday, but it was apparently also five weeks since you'd had your period. "Oh my god." You practically fell out of the bed, your legs tangling up in the sheets as you tried to get to your feet. 

"Oh shit," you gasped, running for the bathroom. You didn't know what to do first, but your stomach won as you lunged for the toilet and threw up everything in your stomach. "Gross," you groaned as you flushed the toilet, but as soon as you tried to stand, more came up. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you forced yourself to be patient and let your stomach empty itself.

When you finally could, you got to your feet again, removing your glasses to rinse your mouth out and splash water on your face. Then you dried yourself and slid them back on. You eyed the linen closet next to the door in the mirror before turning around slowly. As you strode across the tile floor, Tramp came in to investigate, but you ignored him as you closed the distance to where you thought you might have one last pregnancy test hidden away.

You opened the narrow door and knelt down, and then you started throwing everything from the bottom shelves over your shoulders, frantically searching. You saw the box, and you tore it open. You already knew what to do, because you'd done it so many times before, but your hands were shaking as you removed the test and looked at it on your palm in the foil wrapper. 

Tramp whimpered at you as you got to your feet again and made it to the toilet, this time pulling your underwear down as you went. When the wrapper fell away, you took the test, hands shaking as you set it on the edge of the sink vanity when you were done. Then you wiped as you started to panic. Three minutes. You needed to wait for three minutes. 

Your phone was simply too far away as you started counting out loud, your voice echoing around your bathroom. It wasn't ready yet. You climbed into the empty bathtub, sitting and wrapping your arms around your knees. And you counted. 

You closed your eyes, and you counted. You looked at Tramp, and you counted. You pressed your forehead to your knees, and you counted all the way until you reached one hundred and eighty. 

"Three minutes," you whispered, your heart beating so hard, it was making you feel like you might need to throw up again. You climbed out of the tub onto unsteady legs and held your breath as you walked to the vanity. Very carefully, like it was the most precious thing you'd ever touched, you picked up the test. You checked the result before promptly dropping it to the floor.

------------------------

Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 27

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

[whiteferrar1]

“Brothers Best Friend”

Summary: Your stuck at your childhood home during spring break with your Brother; Suguru and his annoying best friend, Satoru Gojo. Everything goes well up till a single night

Warnings: 19 Yr old reader, Gojo is 21, banter, mentions of blood and fighting, fingering, virgin reader, Gojo being a lil mean :3 pet names, Gojo steals Geto’s car, STEM reader 😛, NOT AVTUALLY PROOF READ, Porn with plot

Staying in your childhood home after long drawn out semester of college classes, shitty side jobs, unpaid internships, you could finally relax.

So you did. You laid back against the pillows on your childhood bed, hanged out with childhood friends who stayed in your hometown for school, stayed up late watching reruns of old shows that ended in the 2000’s. Everything was perfect.

Until a tall man with sunglasses and fluffy white hair walked through the front door with a smug grin on his face.

Satoru Gojo, your brother’s best friend since childhood. He walked through the childhood home like he lived there. Taking off his shoes at the door before walking over to the stocked fridge without sparing a glance at you. It irked you- HE irked you.

You and Gojo never got along, no matter what your brother or parents tried to make you two be at least civil in each other’s presence. It never worked out.

“Suguru I didn’t know you already had a girl over” Gojo said to your brother has he grabbed a bag of chips and a soda that you bought and was saving.

He squints his eyes a bit before he chuckles “Oh your sister, sorry that’s even worse”

“Gojo for the love of god, be quiet.” You mumble as you cross your arms with a huff.

“Ahh don’t be like that Guppy~” He coos with a playful glint in his icy blue eyes.

Another reason you hated Gojo. The god forsaken nicknames that he never let go, even as you two grew older. This one stuck and never went away. It was probably because your parents called you it all the time for your love of fish.

You would cry when your family made fish, sniffling as you would try to put the already dead fish into the sink to bring it back to life. Gojo never failed to tease you for that. Laughing as he kept telling you the fish was dead and never coming back.

He would also try to make you eat fish, shoving the fork of warm salmon to your lips as you cried. “You’re such a cry baby, Guppy!” He’d remark with loud laughter as your brother hit him over the head and yelled at him to stop bullying his younger sister.

“Would you stop calling me that! Seriously” I snap at him. Suguru sighed and shook his head at the oncoming banter.

“But you’re just like a guppy! You got fat cheeks like those goldfish” He teased as he flopped down onto the couch next to him.

“Their called Bubble eye goldfish first off, and it’s their eyes that are big not the cheeks” I retort with a roll of my eyes.

“Nerd.” He said with a fake cough.

Your eye twitched slightly before you eye the drink, your drink in his hand.

“That’s my shit asshole! If you’re gonna take something from my fridge at least have the decency to ask!” I exclaim as I move to try to grab it from his hand.

Your chest pushed almost in his face as you tried to reach out for it. He let out a laugh and lifted his arm fully up to avoid your grabbing.

“If I asked you would’ve said no!” He said with a wide grin on his pale face.

You let out another annoyed huff as you get off the couch. You slap the back of Gojo’s head before you turn on my heel.

“Whatever, I have a party to get ready for so this bullshit, doesn’t matter” You grumble as you walk off and up the stairs.

It couldn’t have been more than 2 hours before the sound of your heels are heard coming down the stairs. Gojo is still on the couch next to your brother as their hands click away playing a video game on the TV.

“I have a little reunion party with some of my friends, so i’m heading out. I should be back by 10” you say mostly to the air, as you grab your handbag from the kitchen.

Gojo’s eyes scanned you up and down. A light blue crop top that hugged your chest just right in Gojo’s opinion. A pair of black jean shorts, and a pair of lifted sneakers. Everything you wore, how you looked, made Gojo’s normally calm face flush.

Gojo wanted to say something, maybe a teasing joke or a horrible pick up line but he was left speechless. You had really grown up. To him before you left for college you were always Suguru’s annoying crybaby little sister. But now… You were Y/N the stunning STEM major that looked so good dressed up in his colors.

You left and the night passed by quickly. Gojo couldn’t shake you from his mind though. When his mind would wonder from the video games of the TV showing playing, it would run back to you. Little snippets of moments from childhood, your witty personality, the little tears that would swell up in your big Bambi eyes when you would see a stray animal or be offered fish.

He’s snapped out by two things. Suguru snoring on the other side of the couch and Suguru’s phone ringing appearing your name. Gojo groaned a bit as I leaned up from the couch and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” Gojo says through the phone.

“Gojo, it’s me, Y/N uhm where’s my brother? I need to picked up, like…now” You say with a rushed tone, worry lacing your tone.

“He’s dead asleep, what’s wrong I can get you” Gojo responds as he’s already sitting up from the couch and grabbing his car keys.

You sigh softly “The party, went to shit… Me and this girl started arguing and it got heated. She pushed me so I throw a punch. She was on the floor and I thought I won but then a knife was pulled out, cops are coming and I’m sitting on the front porch waiting” You explain.

“I’m already driving, I have your location, I’ll hear there in a minute” Gojo responds before he hangs up.

The man speeds through the streets, trying to get to you as soon as he could. He pulls up in front of the house and sees you sitting on the stairs up to the porch, a cigarette in between your fingers. He speed walks over to you, looking at your bruised face and crust of dried blood under your nose.

“Are you okay? Did you need to go to the hospital? Can you walk” He worriedly asks as He pulls you up onto your feet.

“I’m okay Gojo, really. It’s just a bruised eye and some cuts” You try to explain say as he holds you while you walk to the car. He keeps you tightly in his arms as he gets you into the front seat.

“I was worried when you mentioned the knife, thought you’ve been stabbed” He mutters has his hands keep close on the stirring wheel. He drives fast to get home, speeding through red lights as you looked at him with a worried expression.

“Why are you going so fast! You’re gonna get a speeding ticket and a ticket for running through like 2 red lights” You scold him as he just rolls his eyes.

“Your hurt, I need to get you back to the house so we can figure out if you need stitches or if you have a concussion. Plus; this is Suguru’s car” He explains as he moves his right hand to pats your thigh then keeps his palm on the skin.

It’s no use in fighting him so you nod. you barely noticed you got home. Gojo swiftly helps you out of the car and rushes you into the house. He sees Suguru is still sleep so he softly places his phone back down where is was before he takes up to the upstairs bathroom.

Gojo pulls out a med-kit and a portable ice pack. He pops the pack open and hands it to you to place on your eye. You tell him a soft thank you. He walks up and examines your face. His thumb rubbing your cheek as he uses his phone flashlight to check your pupils. They seem fine before he disinfects your cuts and puts little bandaid on them gently.

“Thank you Satoru…How can I repair you for helping me out” I whisper to him as he looks down at you.

“How. about…A kiss?” He teasingly says with a smile.

“Your for real?” You ask with a flush reddening your face.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you” He whispers.

You smile softly before you pull his down and press your lips against his. You put the ice pack down as his hands go to your waist.

The kiss has passion of years of tension and want flowing into the touch. His lips soft as he puts you on the bathroom counter. He hands clawing your clothes with need.

“I-Fuck- I need you sweetheart” He whispers to you, hands slowly pulling at your shorts. He unzips the jeans and pulls them down.

His lips stay connected to yours, his finger tips brushing against your clothed cunt. His thumb swiping circles along your throbbing clit. Your breath hitches into the kiss, your back hitting against the mirror.

“Fuck-Satoru wait” You gasp as you hold his wrist in place “I’m a virgin, like never had anything done.” You tell him.

“I’m fine with that, if your are. I’ll be gentle and take it at your pace” He says. You nod and let go of his wrist and lets him use a finger to slide off your panties.

“Such a pretty pussy” He groans as his cold hands rub up and down your folds. “Can’t believe I didn’t get to look at her sooner” He whispers.

His thumb rubs against your clit again, pressing slightly down as you gasp out. “Fuck! Satoru” You whine.

Your foreheads lean against each other he shushes you softly “Gotta stay quiet baby, don’t need your brother hearing us” He warns.

“Already so wipe from just a lil’ teasing, you really haven’t been touched” He mumbles as he puts his middle finger inside your hole.

Your moans grow loud making you clasp a hand over your mouth. He speeds up his pace a bit, before he puts his ring finger inside. His fingers curl at the gummy spot in your cunt as you loudly whine against your palm.

“Fuck baby, clamping down on me, can’t imagine how my dick is gonna fit into this pretty cunt” He groans.

You take your hand off your mouth . Your hands grab his shoulders, his fingers fucking into you at a pace that made you almost tear up.

“Sososo good! Fuck- Please don’t stop please Satoru please” You moan while trying to keep your voice down “I need to cum, I’m gonna cum soon Toru’” You tell him as your head throws back against the mirror.

The white hair man grins wildly, hunger and lust flaming in his blue eyes. His fingers keep a fast pace, curling and rubbing up against that sweet spot.

“Satoru I’m gonna cum!” You warn you with loud whines escaping your throat.

“Let go baby, cum around me fingers sweet girl” He tells you.

The two fingers hit the perfect spot before your seeing stars. Loud moans unable to be held back. Your cunt clamps down onto his fingers. Your thighs shake fast as he slows down the pace slightly and lets you ride out your orgasam.

Sweat drips down your forehead with sighs leaving your mouth. Satoru kisses your cheek softly as his hands leave your sensitive pussy.

“Such a good girl…” He tells you “Let’s go take a bath”

.

.

.

The next morning while you and Satoru sit on the couch eating food Suguru slams the front door open “Why the fuck do I have 3 speeding tickets?!”

[crying-wolves]

🪻 ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴀᴛʀᴇ ᴇᴍᴘʟᴏʏᴇᴇ!ᴀʙʙʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ 🪻

cw: 18+ MDNI!!! little bit of richgirl!abby, anxious!abby, little bit of loser!abby but i’ll let you be the judge of that, alt!reader, reader w/ tattoos + piercings, reader doesn’t care about their job, abby and reader are, like, 18 - 20, mostly fluff, petty theft, minor drug use (abby and reader get a teensy bit high), nsfw under the cut!

a/n: this is ENTIRELY self-indulgent cause i work at the movies and i think i would've liked my job better if Abby was there with me :) thank u so much for reading i love u so much i hope u enjoy &lt;3

wc: 1.3k (a lot longer than i was expecting pls forgive me)

not proofread! im so eepy

dividers by @cafekitsune !

🪻movie theater employee!abby whose family is, as she likes to put it, ‘relatively well off’, so she’s never had to get a summer job before… 

…but when her father emails her an application from their local theater, going on and on and on about how she could manage to learn a thing or two about responsibility and time management and a hundred other things she’s apparently lacking in, she doesn’t see any other option but to piece together a meager resume and send it in.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a response back almost immediately, because they’re just that desperate for new hires.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who shows up to her interview the next week in pressed black dress slacks and a perfectly ironed blue button-up, only to be met with the hiring manager’s tattered black jeans and stained work shirt.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s nervous as fuck during the interview and thinks that she’s taking too long to answer simple questions and tripping over her words, but the manager hires her on the spot, in like, 10 minutes.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who calls her dad on the ride back home to tell him the good news, is met with balloons that say ‘congrats!’ in big sparkly letters on the front and her favorite take-out when she steps through the front door.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who arrives on her first day on the job 20 minutes early. Spotless, bustling with excitement, and so, so unprepared to deal with all that’ll happen in the day.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who is introduced to you, after you arrive 10 minutes late, fruity energy drink in hand and sunglasses still hanging on the tip of your nose as your new trainee.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who initially thinks she’ll evaporate in the stuffy heat behind the concessions counter, suddenly feels an icy-cool wave move through her body when you shoot her a lopsided smile.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who can hardly hear a word you say as you explain what all the buttons on the register screen do… 

…‘cause she’s too focused on the way your work pants cling to your thighs and flare out at the bottom. on the pretty tattoos sneaking up and down your right arm. on the shiny lip ring that a part of her strangely wants to lick at–

🪻movie theater employee!abby who squeaks out a “yep, yeah! uh, got it!” when you ask her if she has any questions.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who definitely does not got it. Not one fuckin’ bit.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who fucks up a whole lot, at first, and manages to oversalt a batch of popcorn, stock too much of the same candy, overcharge 3 separate customers, spill a strawberry soda all over the counter, get scolded by 2 old men, and burn herself on the hotdog grill.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who smells like butter and exhaustion by the end of her 4 hour shift, but brightens up when you tap a star-shaped sticker onto her shirt and mumble out an amused “see you tomorrow, trainee.”

🪻movie theater employee!abby who realizes she has to do this all tomorrow again and lets out a shaky sigh on the way back to her car

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s slowly getting the hang of it after a few weeks at the theater…

…getting compliments from customers, multitasking between different orders, knowing the back room as well as she does the flavors of the drinks you silently sip during your shifts.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s a little enthralled by you, even if you don’t really notice it.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s too afraid to ask for your number, so scours instagram for your contact instead.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who throws her phone across her bedroom when you finally follow her back one night.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who super smoothly asks you when you’re working so she can try to arrive at her shifts when you go on break.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who freezes up when you invite her over to the park bench in front of the theater and offer her some cajun fries and a hit from your cart.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who takes you up on both offers, because she’s starving and she wants you to think she’s cool.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who takes a bigger hit than you were expecting and is a little confused when you giggle at her sudden coughing.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who spends the next 7 hours of her shift trying to act normal, but sees you trying not to bust out laughing in the corner of her eye every few minutes.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a lot closer to you after that…

…who watches you undercharge a frazzled mother on her kid’s birthday, and doesn’t say anything to the supervisor. who sees you swipe a few chocolate bars from the candy cart to give to a group of kids in the arcade. who is certain of your favorite slushie flavor because your lips are always some different color everytime you come back from your too-long bathroom breaks.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who argues about which book-to-movie adaptation is the absolute best when the day’s going by slowly.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who sneaks into different showrooms where the movie has already been playing for a while with you so you guys can guess what’s happened in the plot before.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who hides with you in the stockroom to take a break from the yelling customers and screaming kids every once in a while.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who traces the outlines of your tattoos, all heart-eyed while she’s listening to you talk about the new superhero movie that just came out a week ago.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who places a hand at the small of your back when she has to squeeze by you to grab a bucket of popcorn for a customer.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a little green with jealousy when a customer compliments your piercings or makes a joke that really isn’t that funny to begin with, but you laugh anyways cause you’re required to be cordial with them.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s so stupidly thrilled when you kiss her after a rough closing shift and can hardly breath when she climbs into her car to drive herself home.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who is so very happy that her dad convinced her to get this stupid job in the first place.

SMUT UNDER THE CUT ! 18+ MDNI!

🪻movie theater employee!abby who lets you eat her out in the tiny bathroom stall in the women’s room on nights when the theater is dead… 

…your left hand squeezing at her tits, your right stretching her left leg over your shoulder. She looks down at you, panting, shuddering, trying and failing to conceal the little huffs and content sighs that fall from her lips every time your tongue swipes against a particularly sensitive spot.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who makes out with you in the backseat of her car when your breaks coincide, and whines in pleasure as you grind your clothed cunt against her covered thigh.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who can feel her hand start to shake and her throat go dry as she scurries to the back when you call her from your bedroom, voice all pitched-up and needy, while on your day off. Words strained and quickening wet sounds coming from your background.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who almost gasps when you two are the only ones working the concessions counter and she feels your hand slide from her lower back to squeeze her ass.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s obsessed with the way you watch her expressions as you slowly finger her in the empty break room.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who hates that she won’t see you until next summer, but has a million different secret pictures and texts from you that she has saved in a locked file on her phone to get her through the year <3

[writingduhh]

i literally got my wisdom teeth removed a few hours ago and i am in PAIN

pls pls can we have some comfort ted to schlatt?

love you sm stay safe 💓💓💓💓

Ahhhh I love this idea! I’m so sorry about your wisdom teeth I’ve heard it’s so painful :( please rest up and take care of yourself! Hope this can offer a little distraction 💜

❥ Jschlatt :

▷ Before your surgery, Schlatt does a deep dive into what you’ll need post-op. How to relieve pain, help you heal faster, and everything in-between. He also makes sure to stock up on tons of soft foods, wanting to make sure you have lots of options

▷ On the way to the office he immediately notices your nervousness. He takes it upon himself to lighten the mood the best he can. If all attempts at humor fail he takes a much sweeter approach.

He lays his hand on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze. “You’re going to do great, y/n. And I’ll be right here with you.”

▷ After the paperwork has all been signed he tightly hugs you goodbye, gently whispering to you that title be ok. Once you’re taken back he sits down in the waiting room. He insists on staying in the office until you’re done, no matter how long it takes he refuses to leave without you.

▷ As soon as you’re out of surgery schlatt is by your side, making sure you’re comfortable whisky he intensively listens to the nurses aftercare instructions.

▷ Even though you might be a little grumpy or out of it, due to the anesthesia, Schlatt is incredibly patient. If you try to say something but it’s all garbled he listens attentively. He tries his best to decipher your words, occasionally making silly guesses that get you both laughing.

“Can you say that one more time, toots? I couldn’t hear you.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and tried again, but somehow it came out even more garbled this time.

“Uhh… you want me to turn it up? Like the radio?”

“No, no, no,” you mumbled, struggling to get the words out. He looked a little flustered now.

“You want to… fuck? Darlin’, you just got out of—” Before he could finish, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

You pointed dramatically at the colorful suckers sat in the cup holder that the receptionist had given you on your way out.

“OH! You want a sucker.”

The two of you broke into laughter, tears forming in your eyes from how hard you were laughing.

Once you both finally caught your breath, Schlatt grabbed one of the suckers from the cup holder and handed it to you, making you smile even wider.

Through the gauze in your mouth you managed to say a “thank you.”

“Of course.” He lovingly says, pressing a kiss on the side of your head.

“Ya know, if you hadn’t just got out of surgery I wouldn’t have said no.” He subtly smirks, earning a playful slap from you.

“Hey! Hey! I’m just being honest.”

▷ When he notices you’re feeling tense from the soreness, schlatt offers to give you a gentle shoulder or neck massage. He’s surprisingly good at it, and you find yourself relaxing under his touch, the pain melting away a bit as he works out the tension.

▷ When you’re too sore or tired to eat by yourself, Schlatt happily feeds you spoonfuls of soup or pudding, joking about how he’s becoming a pro at this. He makes airplane noises just to see you roll your eyes, but you secretly love the attention.

▷ Knowing that you’ve been through a tough time, Schlatt takes it upon himself to spoil you with little gifts. He surprises you with a cozy new blanket, a scented candle, or that book you’ve been eyeing for a while. Each gift comes with a cheeky comment like, “Just a little something to make you smile, even if you’re still puffy.”

▷ He is super protective of you during your recovery. If anyone asks to visit or call, he gently but firmly lets them know that you’re resting and need your space, all while making sure you know that he’s there for anything you need.

▷ He can’t resist teasing you a little about your puffy cheeks, but it’s all in good fun. He pretends to take “before and after” pictures, making goofy faces in each one to match your swollen expression.

▷ If you wake up in the middle of the night feeling uncomfortable or in pain, he is right there to comfort you. He gets you a fresh ice pack, helps you take your meds, and stays up with you until you’re able to fall back asleep, all while holding your hand and whispering reassurances.

❥ Ted :

▷ On the way to the dentist, Ted can sense if you’re feeling a bit anxious. He gives you a lighthearted pep talk, reminding you that it’s just a quick procedure and that he’ll be there every step of the way.

▷ Once you’re taken back into the surgery room he makes his way to a nearby store. He buys all of your favorite treats, drinks, and foods. Well, at least the ones you can eat

▷ Ted is the first face you see the moment you come out of surgery. He gives you a reassuring smile and plants a small kiss on your forehead. Before the nurses can bring out a wheelchair, Ted has already decided to carry you out to the car himself.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks sweetly, cradling you in his arms as he walks through the parking lot.

“Mm, good,” you mumble, your arms snugly wrapped around his neck.

“Alright, let me just figure out how to open the door here…” he grumbles, trying to find a way to reach the door handle without setting you down.

“Ted, it’s okay. You can set me down—I can open my door,” you say softly.

“Nope. It’s my job to take care of you and keep you safe.”

“Well… I think you might need to put me down to be ‘safe,’” you smirk.

He sighs. “Alright, you might’ve got me there.”

Ever so carefully, he lowers you to the ground, his hand resting gently on your back as he ushers you into the passenger seat. He even manages to buckle your seatbelt for you. Not without giving you a quick kiss

▷ On the ride home, Ted reflects on how proud he is of you for getting through the procedure. He playfully teases about how you handled it like a champ and how he’s going to tell everyone how brave you were. His words are full of admiration, making you feel cherished.

▷ When you get home, Ted carefully helps you out of the car, making sure you don’t trip or stumble. He wraps an arm around you to keep you steady, guiding you inside and straight to the couch or bed, where he’s already prepared a cozy spot for you to rest.

▷ Ted is super thoughtful, having already set up a recovery space with everything you might need. He’s laid out blankets, pillows, and has the remote within arm’s reach. He’s also got your medications and a glass of water ready, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.

▷ Once you’re back home and resting, Ted sits quietly beside you, holding your hand or gently stroking your hair. Even if you’re too tired to talk, he stays with you, offering silent support and comfort just by being close.

▷ As you start to come around, Ted sits beside you, keeping the conversation light and soft. He talks about plans for when you’re feeling better, maybe a fun date or a small trip, to give you something to look forward to while you recover.

▷ At night, he insists on sleeping next to you, even if it means squishing into the bed with all the pillows and blankets you have piled up. He keeps an eye on you, waking up occasionally to make sure you’re still comfortable and not in any pain.