#this is almost fanfiction

[blazehedgehog]

Given they’re soft rebooting again… what’s your Jurassic world 4/jurassic park 7/ Jurassic animals and also Triassic and Cretaceous animals make life difficult: the movie pitch? I feel like, as fun as the sequels can be, they’ve lost the science parable and horror/thriller elements of the classic - for all its faults; at least lost world has that.

Hmm... I'm gonna think like a movie executive. What's hot right now? AI's hot, right? It's the buzz. I propose a hard reboot.

Crichton's original novel opens with this big screed about a near future where we have "designer genetics." Genetic manipulation gets easier and easier and I think it's said Jurassic Park takes place in a world where it's getting to the point that parents can custom-order what kind of kids they'll have by selecting specific genetic traits. (It's been a while since I've read it)

Jurassic Park the movie shows human beings physically modifying genetic code by hand using VR displays, but Mr. DNA also admits that "a full DNA sequence contains 3 billion genetic codes." So it's ridiculous to assume that a human being could edit the genetic code by hand. One sequence would take years to get right, maybe even a lifetime.

So our story is that we have some 20 something silicon valley tech bro. He got outrageously rich off of crypto and NFTs and was smart enough to cash out early. We frame him as altruistic but around the edges we can see maybe he's not the greatest person. It's suggested he knew crypto was kind of a scam, which is why he got out early, but obviously he was in crypto at all to begin with, which does not bode well. But he's supposedly "one of the smart ones." Now he's rich! And cool! And using his powers for "good." He's beloved in pop culture.

The next wave is here. Neural network LLM Artificial Intelligence. He's all in. It's the next crypto. And he starts a company that uses LLM AI to "solve the genetic algorithm." He spins this out into a financial empire where people can custom-order pets with specific traits. But obviously people with a lot of money start wondering if maybe they can get more... exotic products.

With the realm of cats, dogs and parrots conquered, our techbro begins phase 2: recreating extinct animals. This is a guy who thinks he's going to save the world by restoring lost links in the food chain (without doing enough research to see how that would change our existing ecosystem, since he could be resurrecting an invasive species).

He's going to debut the first of his phase 2 work at an event he's calling Jurassic Park, because he's going to demonstrate the first living dinosaurs in 65 million years. Jurassic Park will continue to operate as a massive nature reserve; a symbol of his control of life itself.

Obviously: everything goes wrong. The AI has never had to change this much genetic code before. It has to make up whole entire sections of DNA. The end result is unpredictable, but techbro is confident that if the AI sequenced things well enough that something could actually hatch from the egg, then it's safe.

It is not safe.

Not only do we not understand anything about dinosaur behavior, these technically aren't even dinosaurs. They're genetic mutants. The on-site dinosaur expert brought in with the press to verify Jurassic Park's claims quickly realizes that while some of these dinosaurs are accurate in some ways, a lot of them have hard deviations away from known science. Muscles that aren't quite right, appendages that aren't the right size, things like that. Maybe their brains and brain chemistry are slightly different.

The question remains whether known science was wrong or whether the AI made something up that was never true.

The question is brought up again when we learn a technician within Jurassic Park sabotaged everything intending to steal the genetic learning data from techbro's servers. Techbro says the thief poisoned the data and that's gotta be why there's mutations.

The security systems fail. The thief has left them to their creations. Jurassic Park as we know it happens.

Since a lot of movies have to deal with this, all throughout this, nobody has phones. To prevent leaks, all of their phones were confiscated before they entered Jurassic Park and locked in a security checkpoint. Our techbro, maybe as a sign of solidarity, even gives his phone to the security guy. We could even say maybe they've been having security issues beforehand, to set up the thief hacking everything before he actually does it.

Anyway, since our thief sabotaged the park's own communication channels, a lot of the movie is about getting back to that security checkpoint, breaking in, and getting their phones so they can call for help.

Oh, and also: all of Jurassic Park's vehicles are electric, too, and tied into the security mainframe. Since the park's whole security system was hacked and disabled, none of the vehicles can be operated. The only thing that works are these little golf carts, but they're small, can't go very fast, and offer little protection. Maybe our survivors try one, it gets smashed by a triceratops, and they're too far away from the depot to go back for a new one. So a lot of the movie is them traversing the park on foot.

As they're being chased by dinosaurs through the park itself, they end up deep in the core of a genetics lab. And it's here we learn the dark truth: there is a wide margin of failure. The recently deceased specimens are all kept for study and learning and there's a lot because the AI fails often, and it has to be taught not to do that. We see dozens of disfigured animals. Bits and pieces of dinosaurs, pets, and even, in one tank... human parts. These tanks are labeled "phase 3."

Not only are the mutated dinosaurs not the work of sabotage, this guy's been trying to create genetically modified people. We have our big "what have you done?" moment of horror. One of the last surviving members of the press is going to blow the whistle on this place. It's over. Maybe it's someone we build up as the techbro's new friend discovering that their hero wasn't who he said he was.

Just then, a dinosaur bursts in and kills that person. Drama! Tragedy!

Obviously, the survivors find a way out. Techbro has to live with his own conscious. Multiple people died at his hands on this day and he had a hand in creating some of the worst sins against nature mankind has ever seen.

(Or maybe we stick to the original Jurassic Park book and he dies just before getting on the escape chopper.)

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Bruce knew immediately that it wasn't his son. Even if the glowing neon green eyes weren't a dead giveaway, Tim would never move like that. He was clumsy and uncoordinated in a way a normal teen would be, not at all like the trained fighter that he actually was.

Next was the voice. It was nothing like Tim's, and Bruce was surprised that whoever this kid was - because that definitely sounded like a kid - actually thought anyone would be fooled by this. Oh well, he wanted info and wanted to make this kid squirm a bit as punishment, so why not bring out Brucie baby and tease him a little?

"Tim dear, why are you still in the office? I thought I told you to go to bed early tonight! You're going to pass out again!"

The kid wearing Tim's face looked alarmed for a bit. Once Bruce had mentioned passing out and he took the opportunity to shuffle the kid towards the door while his guard was down.

"Wait! I need to get-"

"Whatever it is," Bruce interrupted, "It can wait till tomorrow."

The kid slumped a bit and pouted, but otherwise made no attempts of escaping as Bruce led the fake Drake to the elevator, however the moment they got into the car "Tim" blacked out in the passenger seat and didn't wake up for three hours. All tests showed that this was the real Tim, so what was happening?

Tim awoke with a gasp on a couch in the manor.

"Tim," Bruce began, already getting up from his place in the nearby armchair, but before he could speak, Tim croaked out, "Possessed"

"What?"

"Possession. He was after the device that was powered by the unidentified green substance we found."

Aka Danny tries to steal back his parents' dangerous stuff only to be stopped at the last minute.

Repeatedly.

Danny doesn't even know what half this stuff does, but he's not too keep on finding out, thus trying to get them away from the humans

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[deep-space-lines]

okay but like. I just had the weirdest thought about that ‘don’t look I’m naked’ comic. Which is that that’s essentially the same thing Adam and Eve did after they ate the fruit of knowledge of good&evil. So I feel like the theological implications of that could kneecap Gabe if he doesn’t think V1 is a being with free will.

yeah ok. i dunno man. is this anything

((side note. this isn’t necessarily meant to be in-character or story-accurate or take place at any particular point in time, just a way to explore some Thoughts. i was also imagining more that V1’s words aren't actually spoken, more like Gabriel’s more articulate interpretation of whatever garbled mechanical noise V1 is using to communicate. I think an angel could do that.))

and then they fucked nasty the end

[rafeandonlyrafe]

your duke

words: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of having children, duke!rafe, 1800S au, royalty au, probably a lot of incorrect era things but idk! bear with me yall, maid!reader, implication of noncon but it is not actually described, r*pe aftermath, poisioning/murder, assassination plot, kinda angsty but happy ending, slowburn ish? i fell in love the way you fell asleep, slowly and then all at once

you are humming to yourself as you wipe down the surfaces off the room, collecting the nonexistent dust on your rag before turning your attention towards the bath, filling it with hot water, anticipating the dukes return.

you move onto the bed next, filled with extravagant silks and embroidered blankets. you make it perfectly, erasing any evidence that it was slept in only for the duke to create a mess when he comes back to his chambers.

you know you should feel lucky, getting to work in the palace with one of the kings closest friend and advisor, but it's tedious maid work, barely worth the couple gold coins you get at the end of every day.

you don't realize that the duke has entered until the door slams shut behind him, making you jump up, eyes wide as you turn and give him a quick bow, keeping your head down.

“good evening, duke cameron.”

“evening.” he addresses you back after a moment, allowing you to rise. you have to hold in a gasp, you always forget how beautiful the duke is.

“i filled the bath for you, sir.” you gesture your arm towards the bathroom. “i will take your garments for cleaning once you ready.”

“thank you, y/n.” the duke says, making your eyebrows rise. you have only been working for a couple weeks, and only recently got reassigned to the dukes room. you introduced yourself only once, and certainly expected him to instantly forget your name.

you watch as he goes behind the thick curtain into the bath, entering only when you hear him sink into the warm water with a satisfied groan.

you keep your eyes on the floor as you step around the corner just long enough to grab the clothing off the floor before fleeing with a bow to clean them.

you head to the lower levels of the palace, smiling at the other help that you see as you head towards the laundry room, quickly cleaning his clothes before hanging them on a line meant specifically for the duke.

“on your way back up to duke camerons?” the voice makes your back snap straight, turning to look at mrs. peregrine, her name living up to her hawkish features, a stern old woman but one to be admired for running the entirety of the background of the palace, coordinating maids and assistants, even running the kitchen with an iron fist.

“yes ma’am.” you nod.

“the king has requested that he receives a personal assistant.” she says, looking you up and down with a disapproving look in her brown eyes, so dark they almost appear black.

you wait patiently before she sighs. “my goodness girl, im offering you a promotion.”

“oh!” you raise your eyebrows, not expecting to move through the ranks so quickly. “yes, ma’am… what does being a personal assistant include?”

“you will bring up his meals, take requests and fill whatever he needs and… keep him satisfied.” you immediately understand the implication there, letting out a quick nod. she almost looks sad for a brief second before her features harden again. “get his dinner tray from the kitchen and bring it up immediately.”

you rush to the kitchen, grabbing the tray indicated for the duke. you hurry up the stairs, but are careful not to spill the plates loaded on the silver platter.

“dinner, sir.” you call with a knock, glad when instead of telling you to come inside that duke cameron opens the door for you. you set the tray down at his dining table. you wonder what the palace chambers of the king are like when a dukes looks like this.

“are you my assistant then y/n?” rafe asks, sitting down as you stand at the other side of the table, hands clasped together, waiting, but you're not sure what.

“yes sir.” you nod quickly. “anything you wish i am… here to serve.”

“are you hungry?” he asks, making you scrunch your brows together.

“what?” you know you shouldn't question what the duke says, but you surely must have heard him wrong.

“are you hungry? the kitchen always gives me more than i could ever eat.”

“oh- i- i am fine, sir. thank you.” you say, but your traitorous eyes betray you as you look at the food, bread smothered with butter, steak dripping with juice.

“no more with the sir, please.” he waves his hand. “makes me feel like my father. just call me rafe.”

you let a light laugh slip. duke cameron-rafe is remarkably young to have risen to the ranks so quickly. some even believe he is who the king will appoint if he doesn't produce an heir.

“and come sit down.” rafe kicks out the chair next to you. you step closer, easing yourself down into the wooden chair.

rafe takes one of the plates and loads a few things on it before setting it in front of you with one simple word. “eat.”

you're not going to argue with duke, and the meal is no doubt the most extravagant that you're ever going to get to taste, so you begin to eat, eyes widening when you taste the warm bread, so unlike the old stale loaf you get for cheap from the market.

rafe looks satisfied when your finished, pushing his cup of wine towards you to finish off.

“thank you, s-rafe.” you both smile.

“it's my pleasure.” rafe says, standing up and moving to flop down on his bed, placing his hand on his stomach. “so much good food.”

you bite your tongue, resisting the urge to say that there are people right outside the palace walls starving.

you quickly collect all of the silverware before placing the serving tray outside of the door to take back down to the kitchen later. maybe you'd even be able to sneak some more food now that you have access.

“what else can i do for you, sir?” you ask, looking out the window as the sky darkens. you wonder when you'll be dismissed now that you're an assistant to a duke, not just a lowly maid.

“come here.” he calls, eyes now closed as he lays on the bed.

you move quickly, putting your shame to the side. you know what is being requested of you now as you step to the edge of the bed, looking down rafes body until you are staring at his crotch. your hands reach cautiously until you cant wait any longer, grabbing the hem of his pants.

the dukes eyes pop open, pushing your fingers away. “what are you doing?”

“i-i am so sorry, sir!” you take a step back before sinking to your knees, bending your head down. “i thought you wanted to receive your… your nightly pleasures.”

you keep your eyes trained on the plush rug, but you can hear that rafe has moved to stand directly in front of you.

“you are not a whore.” his words are harsh for a moment, but then he kneels down next to you, his fingers touching under your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “i do not expect you to do anything for me that you do not want to.”

“sir, it's included in being your assistant.” you explain.

“i will not ask you to do anything lewd, understood?” he asks, holding your eye until you nod.

“you… you are a good man.” you say, letting him take your hand to help you stand, your dress falling back around your ankles.

“if only.” he looks into the distance for a moment before shaking his head. “you're dismissed.”

“yes sir.” you lower your head, rushing out of the room.

-- two weeks later --

“would you ask the kitchen for chicken today?” the duke asks as you adjust his outfit, quickly learning his tastes as you fold his collar down.

“roasted?” you question, smiling when rafe shakes his head.

“and make sure you tell them i want lunch too.” you know exactly what the duke means. he will no doubt be eating with the king, but he wants you to get food from the kitchen for yourself. you would refuse, but it gives you something to do as you wait around in his chambers, waiting to be called on.

“yes, sir.” you nod before leading him to the door, opening up the door with a bow as he goes to yet another meeting. he seems to always be involved. you don't know his personal politics, but from the way he treats you, you're sure he must be a good man.

you spend some time cleaning as you wait for rafe to return, as well as getting lunch and wandering the hallways, seeing how far you can go without seeing anyone.

you are relieved when time rolls around for you to draw a bath for the duke, excited to see him.

the door opens as you turn with a smile. “good evening, rafe. how was your day?”

“busy.” he admits with a sigh. you can tell he looks tired. “is the bath ready?”

“yes, sir.” you say, not able to always resist the formalities.

rafe nods, walking past you but not before laying a hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as a thank you, like he is too tired to even say the words.

you wait to hear the water before stepping in to get his clothes.

“y/n.” rafe says.

“yes sir?” you ask, keeping your eyes cast downward.

“would you… would you massage my shoulders and head? please.”

“of course.” you drag a stool towards the edge of the bath, glad to see the water is still steaming, no doubt relaxing rafe. you keep your eyes firmly away from lower down his body as you rub over his scalp and shoulders, working out the kinks in his neck.

you're almost sure that rafe has fallen asleep as you continue to massage, unable to resist as you lean in and take a small inhale, smelling his unique scent that is near intoxicating. you wish his room smelled more of him and less like you, it seems like he never gets to relax unless it's to sleep.

“why are you always so busy, sir?” you ask seriously. “the other dukes spend half the nights on the town and the other half at their summer houses. you work yourself to death.”

“for good reason.” he simply says. you sigh, you're not going to get anymore than that.

-- three months later --

“would you go to albion with me?” the duke asks, your eyes widening as you almost choke on the perfectly buttered biscuit you have in your mouth.

“of course!” you nod. “ive never left the city before.” you long to see the countryside, and even if you are going as an assistant, you would never turn down the opportunity.

“never?” he raises an eyebrow. “not even as a child?”

“no.” you shake your head. “i had to work ever since i was a young girl.”

“it's a shame.” the duke says. “you aren't like the others…”

“what do you mean?” you question, taking a timid bite of the roast chicken.

“like the people i see sleeping on the streets. you have manners, you work hard… you're beautiful.”

you can feel your cheeks blush bright red. “why thank you.”

“this is when you pay me a compliment back.” he smirks, using the charm he is so well known for.

“you are… very handsome.” you say before taking a quick sip of wine.

“come on, anything specific?”

you know exactly what you are going to say. “your eyes.” you quickly attest. “they're… they're enchanting. i imagine they are what the sea looks like.”

the duke smiles, blue eyes sparkling like the sun reflecting off the waves, and you swear you could melt right there in your seat.

-- one week later --

“is this your first time in a carriage?” the duke asks as the coachman reaches his hand out to help you into the small enclosed area.

“yes.” you nod, taking in the plush seats before sitting down, rafe sitting across from you.

“im glad i get to show you this then.” rafe says with a light smile, opening up the windows to allow you to look out as the horse begins to clop through the city streets.

you watch with excitement as the cobblestone roads turn to dirt and stone paths, brick buildings being replaced by rolling hills, crops, and distant farmhouses.

you chat with the duke throughout your travels, his smile growing whenever you point out something out of the window, loving your excitement when you come across a heard of cows, or cross over a wooden bridge.

“i want to show you everything.” rafe mumbles unders his breath, realizing in that moment how deep he is in.

its only a few more hours before you arrive at albion. your duties are much the same when at the kings palace, retreating quickly to make the dukes room just as he pleases, even adjusting the pillows to how you always find them in the morning.

you explore the help areas of the albion manor, glancing into the various rooms as you learn the layout, since the duke does intend to stay for two nights.

“exploring, are we?” rafes voice makes you jump as you turn suddenly.

“please excuse me.” you bow down when you realize duke cameron is with the duke of albion.

“is this your wife, duke cameron?” he asks, looking over you and your curtsey.

“why, no.” you can tell from rafes voice that he is delighted by the question. “though you would never guess it, she is my maid.”

“such a gorgeous maid.” you can hear them step closer, but you keep your head turned down until the duke of albion clears his throat and you stand.

you can see that rafes face has changed from a smile to cautious displeasure as the duke looks you up and down, a jeer taking over his face.

“she is a wonderful maid. a great conversationalist, too. she rode the entire way in my carriage and i was not once bored.”

“can she dance?” the duke of albion asks.

“ask the lady yourself.” rafe turns to look at you, nodding encouragingly.

“i have not danced since i was a child.” you say, keeping your voice quiet and soft. you know that there are dukes out there sick on power, and you're not sure the duke of albion is one of the good ones like your duke cameron.

“well, we must change that, shouldn't we duke cameron?” he turns to look at rafe, who nods. “invite her to the ball tomorrow night.” it's all he has to say before walking away. you let out a breath of relief once he turns down a hallway.

“you don't have to go to the ball if you don't want to.” rafe says as you begin to walk towards his room. you stay a step behind him like a proper maid. “i will make up an excuse for you if you wish, but…” rafe pushes the door open, allowing you to enter the chambers first. “if you want to don a pretty dress and arrive on my arm, i will not deny you the chance.”

“i would love to. as long as i only have to dance with you.” you can't imagine being passed off to random men.

your duke smiles at you before nodding, setting down at the dining table, where food must have been recently delivered as he portions some out for you.

“where are you to sleep?” he asks as you begin to eat.

“i visited the helps chambers already, i will sleep in a cot there.”

rafe frowns. “a cot? that is unacceptable.”

“it's just as nice as the one i have at home.” you admit with a casual shrug.

“you do not own a bed in your house?” rafe questions. he's never thought too much about your living situation before.

“i rent a room.” you say simply. “i don't even have a house or a whole apartment to myself.”

rafe is quiet until you're both done eating, seemingly deep in thought.

“you are sleeping in the bed tonight and i shall sleep on the settee. and we shall find new living arrangements for you when we return to the palace.”

“sir-”

“there will be no arguments.” he says, with a tone of authority you've never heard before. your mouth zips shut.

--

“im afraid im going to be sick.” you press your hand to the front of your dress, a soft pink fabric that must be more than your entire yearly salary for just have the material of the gown.

the duke of albion sent a few different options. they're clearly old dresses from maybe his wife or other manor women. you even made an attempt to do your hair rather than just pull it back into a bun or braid like you often do.

“you look beautiful.” rafe squeezes your hand. “and you have nothing to be nervous about. i will not leave your side.”

rafe waits for you to nod before stepping through the doors. he would turn back and take you back to his chambers if you were truly too nervous, social consequences be damned. rafe couldn't care less about his place in society, not when he knows he's been written into the kings will to take over the crown if he doesn't produce an heir with his wife before his death.

you're glad people are paying more attention to rafe than the women on his arm as he leads you around the room, greeting people and introducing you simply as lady y/n, not mentioning that you are his maid and assistant.

you watch a few dances with fascination, the twirling skirts of the women far more appealing then the men.

“want to try the dance floor?” he asks, squeezing your hand gently.

“yes.” you say honestly. you weren't sure, but to look into rafes eyes while the band plays is too tempting.

rafe leads you towards the center of the room, thankful the dance has already been done once, as you mostly remember the moves as he leads you through it, a wide smile on your face.

-- one week later --

“is everything moved?” rafe asks as he enters the room, eyes widening when he realizes it's been completely stripped, even the curtain separating the living area and bathroom has been taken down.

“yes.” you nod. “mrs. peregrine said there is no one else moving into this room, so.” you shrug. you feel a little sad about leaving the chambers that you've grown so close to rafe in, but he himself requested a bigger chamber. he must not ask for much, because the king quickly accepted his request.

two beds. you walk up one more flight of stairs to the newer bedrooms, family chambers for those who live inside the palace with their children, or for those who will have their maid live with them like rafe.

“no more cots for you.” rafe says as you enter the room. you can't help yourself, tearing up when you see your bed. yours. 

“good tears?” rafe confirms before pulling you in for a hug. the touching may be frowned on by society, but you find comfort and familiarity in his hold, having grown so close over the past months.

--

you are humming softly with a smile on your face as you bring down rafes laundry, the last task for the night before also retreating to your bedroom.

“y/n.” mrs peregrine says, her hawk eyes landing on you and the bundle of clothing in your arms.

“yes ma’am?”

“the king has requested a new maid for the night. he wants someone young. go.”

it takes a second for her words to process before you realize what she's asking for.

“i-”

“you can go back to duke cameron in the morning, he wants someone new for the night. go. now.”

you drop the laundry, considering running. either out of the palace or back to rafe, but mrs. peregrine follows behind you like she can read your thoughts until you're standing in front of the door to the kings chambers. you can hear lewd noises from behind the carved wood, the golden handle gleaming.

mrs. peregrine grabs and turns it before pushing you in.

“ah, a new one!” the king grunts, a mess of bare skin taking up the massive bed. “get over here!”

--

“where were you?” rafe asks, grasping your shoulders the second you enter the chambers, the morning sun not even rising yet, having fled the second the kings head hit the pillow.

you open your mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a loud sob as you lean forward, burying your face into his chest. 

“shh, shh.” rafe wraps his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest as his hand strokes gently up and down your back. “i got you. you're okay.”

he leads you over towards the beds, bypassing your own and taking you to sit on his, arms still holding you comfortingly.

“i-i had to go to the kings chambers.” you swallow thickly, glad you don't have to explain any more as rafes face turns to one of anger.

“the king disrespected you. he disrespected me. and he disrespected his wife. something will be done about it.”

you're not sure what your duke has planned, but you trust him.

--

rafe watches with anticipation. he planned to wait another couple months, to build up the tolerance of the kings food taster to the poison he's been slipping in, but after what you were subjected to, he will wait no longer.

every meal the taster ate outside of testing the kings food has had slowly increasing amounts of poison in it. he hadn't quite reached lethal yet, but rafe hopes he will at least last long enough for the king to eat before showing any signs of sickness.

rafe watches with anticipation, barely touching his own food as the taster tries everything. a bite of mashed potatoes, of chicken, and so on before nodding and passing the plate to the king.

he's too cocky for his own good, not even waiting for a minute to see if the taster has a bad reaction before eating, sure that he was too untouchable.

rafe hides his smile when the kings face turns pale, sputtering before falling face forward into the mashed potatoes, knocked out dead.

--

the palace is in an uproar. you were waiting for rafe to return to the chambers from his dinner with the king and other dukes when someone bursts in.

“the king is dead. duke cameron is now the king. come now.”

you hesitate before they rush out of the room. your feet move before your mind does, rushing after what you must assume is an advisor.

you hear loud crying, desperately sad, heartbreaking screams as you're lead to the kings chambers. your eyes widen when you see the former queen being dragged out, mourning with loud sobs the loss of her husband and title.

“king cameron is waiting for you inside.”

you walk in, surprised when the door swing shuts behind you. you look around the grand space, not having truly taken it in the time the king had you brought in.

“rafe-” you run to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he's stood near where the bed used to be. it must have been his first order, to have the very bed you were disrespected in taken out of the chambers. you hope it gets burned.

“i did it for you. for us.” rafe holds you close as it sinks in. rafe killed the king.

“i want you to be my queen.” rafe pulls away to look you in the eye. “i want you to be my wife.”

“i-” 

“the former queen is pregnant. hopefully with a boy. we will rule until he is 13 then vacate the throne. we can go to the countryside, i can give you the life you deserve-”

you cut rafe off by pressing your lips against his. he hesitates for a split second before kissing back, holding you even tighter to him.

“id be honored to be your wife.” you whisper against his lips. “i love you.”

“i love you so much.” rafes tongue slips into your mouth, distracting you from thinking too hard as he kisses you, your bodies turning warm as he leads you towards the couch, laying you down on your back as he hovers over you, not allowing your lips to seperate.

“we will…” rafe gasps out, pausing his words to kiss you again. “we will rule. we will amass wealth. we will retire with our money to the countryside.” rafe squeezes your waist. “we will have as many children as you want. none, if you want. anything for you, my soon to be queen.”

“i never thought id be able to have kids.” you sniffle. “you've given me so much.”

you reach up to take rafes face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks before pulling him down for a kiss.

“i love you.” you kiss him over and over. “i want you.”

“now?” rafe looks down at you. “are you sure?”

“yes, please.” you kiss him again. “replace my bad memories with a good one.”

rafe moves slowly, carefully undoing your dress until you're in just your underclothes. he continues to kiss you before turning the attention to himself, taking off his layers until he's in just underpants.

you run your hands up and down over his chest, lifting your hips as he tugs your final layer off.

rafe pulls away from the kiss to look down at your body. a smile spreads over his face before slinking down the couch he grasps your chest in his hands, cupping your breasts.

“i should have had them bring in a new bed first.” he chuckles, pressing his hips down into your thigh, allowing you to feel his length through his underpants.

“i need you now. please.” you whimper out. rafe smiles, unable to keep the grin off his face since his plan succeeded and he finally admitted his feelings to you.

“you never have to beg me for anything, my queen.” rafe says, pulling his final layer off. “you're never going to go without ever again.”

you feel tears well in your eyes as rafe lines himself up with your entrance, sinking deep into you as you both moan out. 

“i love you.” you whisper again, needing to tell him as many times as you possibly can.

rafe presses his lips over each over your eyelids, kissing away your tears.

-- 14 years later -- 

“it's everything i imagined and more.” you smile to your husband, having just returned from the tour of the vast gardens.

“nothing but the best for you, my love.” rafe spent years looking for the perfect retirement property as the new king grew up until he was of age to take over the title.

you push the hair back out of rafes face, admiring his features. there's a few increased lines on his face from the age and the stress of the crown, but the twinkle in his eye is all the same.

“i was thinking once we settle down here i will take you on a vacation to see the ocean. then we can get started on making those babies i promised you.”

“why not start now?” you smile, turning towards your bedroom as rafe quickly follows behind, the halls filling with warm laughter, much to the staffs relief, glad to have a happy couple as the new duke and duchess.

rafe closes and locks the bedroom door behind you, the curtains and windows open, letting in the clean country air, so different from the city that you've finally escaped.

“how many babies do you want?” rafe asks, pushing up the bottom of your linen dress up to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath, much to rafes appreciation.

“hmm.” you hum out as rafe tugs his pants down. “two boys, two girls?”

“i like the way you think.” rafe smiles, pressing a kiss your lips. “my queen. you'll always-” another kiss. “be my queen.”

taglist (please let me know if it doesnt work idk why people arent being notified): @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1

[starkspi]

will i ever finish this whole scene (which is my absolute favourite by the way) from @morningstarwrites fanfiction? we shall see

[honeytae]

you’ll let me?

pairing : shy!oc x shy!jk, est. relationship

genre : smut

wc : 2.9k

warnings : minors dni! descriptions of making out, dry humping, cunnilingus and vaginal penetration all below the cut. jk has an oral fixation bc duh, also he’s wearing calvin’s bc i couldn’t help myself. author makes far too many 3D lyric puns but to be fair i had it on repeat </3

the last text jungkook sent was staring back at you on your phone screen, and you never knew how deeply such a simple question could impact you.

can i come over?

biting your bottom lip, you cursed as he started typing again, then quickly disappeared from the chat.

you never wanted to make him feel rejected, but sometimes you think it’s better off. teasing him was easy…effortless, even, over text. when you were with him in person, you turned into some timid little girl around her very first crush.

sighing, you begin typing a response, some bullshit excuse about it being a long day and needing some sleep. before you hit send, you set your phone down, rolling your neck and staring at the ceiling in thought.

admittedly, he’s all you can think about. how pretty his eyes are, how they sparkle when he smiles at you or laughs at one of your dumb jokes. how soft his lips feel when briefly pressed against your own since he’s such a fucking gentleman all the damn time and won’t take it further unless you make the first move.

you want him. and you’re tired of pretending you don’t.

fuck it.

a repetitive clicking sounded from your phone as you held your finger on the backspace button, deleting your previous unsent response.

yes please :)

you feel your pulse speed up as you press send on your revised message, unable to suppress your giddiness when you get an immediate response.

on my way :)

the minutes feel like hours while you wait for your boyfriend to arrive.

your head snaps up when you finally hear the rapping of knuckles on hard wood, nearly stumbling over the carpet as you get up to open the door for him.

“hey,” he breathes out, running his tattooed hand through his dark hair, jiggling his car keys in his other.

“hi there,” you smirk, stepping back to allow him room to enter your place.

jungkook grins, lip piercings glittering under the lights of your foyer, butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach at his mere presence.

you shut the door behind him, and you internally begin to panic. shit, shit, shit. this is why you can’t function around him. he’s sexy, he’s smooth, he’s confident. he’s got it all.

seemingly noticing your frozen state, jungkook takes your hands into his, pulling you toward him and wrapping his arms around your body.

“you wanna know something?” he whispers, kind eyes soothing you immediately. he smiles when he feels you melt into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his neck as you hum in response.

“you intimidate me,” he presses his forehead against yours, his nose crinkling at your alarmed facial expression.

“i meant that in a good way,” he clarifies, closing his eyes for a second to think about what he wants to say next.

you get caught up in the way his long eyelashes kiss his cheeks, his soft skin flushing a light pink under your attention.

it was comforting to know he was as affected by you as you were by him. you squeezed your arms around him to get his attention again, admiring his shy smile as he came back to you.

“you intimidate me too,” you whisper, “but i also think we should let ourselves do what we want.”

you watch as something unfamiliar flickers in jungkooks eyes, excited by the new desire displayed in his features.

you shiver as his hand slides up your neck to cup your jaw, resting his hand behind your ear. his eyes flick down to your lips, and you swear you must be dreaming.

“is this okay?” he asks, voice soft, caring. as usual.

“more than okay,” you murmured, tilting your head to finally, finally, finally press your lips to his.

when his mouth opens, he tastes sweet, like sugar and cherries. it just makes sense, the ease of your tongues finding each other making you both sigh in relief.

moans and whimpers pass between you when he closes his mouth and sucks on your tongue, and you feel dizzy due to the fact that he has now walked you backward to press your spine to the wall. your shy jungkook is no more.

you can gradually feel yourself slipping into his spell, each movement of his mouth pulling you in deeper and deeper until you have to pull away to catch your breath.

jungkook’s eyes dart wildly around your face, admiring your flushed lips and messy hair. he adjusts his hand so that his fingers are pushing your hair behind your ears, smiling when he feels your fingers wrap around his wrists.

“shit, we should do that again,” you exhale, jungkook giggling as he tips his scrunched up face to the ceiling for a moment.

“yeah,” he breathes, leveling his face with you again before tipping to the right, teasingly hovering over your needy mouth, “we really should.”

this time is rougher than the last, neither of you caring to test the waters any further. they’ve been tested enough.

and all you can think is how incredibly stupid you’ve been. how did you deprive yourself of this for so long?

you keen as jungkook presses his chest to yours, wildly beating hearts communicating just how ready the two of you were to finally feel each other.

your hands go to jungkooks hair while his go down your back, trailing down your spine and politely stopping at midway.

he groans deep in his throat when you guide his hands to go to your ass, a surge of heat flushing between your legs when he cups the flesh with his fingers and squeezes like he’s wanted to for months.

“been waiting for this,” jungkook speaks breathlessly between kisses, an official statement on your four months of celibacy.

“don’t have to wait anymore,” you break away momentarily, a string of saliva stretching between you. “i’m ready.”

you tilt your head back to look at him, raising your eyebrows so that he knows you’re serious. his tongue darts out to play with his lip piercings, a casual habit of his, but it flames the arousal settling into the pit of your stomach.

“are you sure? you’ll let me?” he asks, and you grin as you slide out from where you were pressed between him and the wall, taking his hand in yours and wiping the rejection right off his face.

“honestly? i would let you do anything you wanted to me,” you answer truthfully, a confession you’re glad to have said without facing the man.

and it was a good thing, because it was now jungkooks turn to blush, biting his lip as you led him to your bedroom.

once on your bed, jungkook held your waist as you straddled him, smiling between kisses as you playfully nipped at each others lips.

after months of build up, it felt great to be able to feel each other, body to body.

he hissed as you rolled your hips down on his half hard cock, clenching his teeth as he let his hands roll the flesh of your ass, encouraging you to do it again.

you reveled in the noises spilling from his mouth, and never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined a man’s moans could be so sexy.

you definitely weren’t being quiet yourself, whining and moaning at each rock of your hips along jungkook’s growing shaft.

this moment was fulfilling your fantasies. and, well, not to sound totally pathetic but…it’s been a long time since you’ve been touched like this.

“i wanna see you, baby,” jungkook speaks up between moans, cursing when you guide his hand up underneath your shirt.

he wastes no time in lifting the material to feel your skin, hand flattening to drag up your stomach.

“oh, my god,” you whimper, moments later when he’s got your bra discarded on the floor and his mouth on your chest. your hand holds onto his hair for some kind of stability as he marks the underside of your breast, smoothing it over with a swipe of his tongue that catches your nipple as well.

jungkook lets out a noise of approval at the way the action makes you pull on his hair a bit tighter, moving his face so he’s directly over your breast, wrapping his lips around your nipple and suckling.

his eyes flick up to your face and he feels a rush of blood go down to his dick at the view. your face is contorted in pleasure, mouth dropped open as you arch into his touch.

it makes him want to move down further, so he tests his limits and removes himself from your chest, shuffling down and watching for your reaction as he hooks his fingers underneath the waistband.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” he speaks softly, eyes turning to amused crescents when you instead lift your butt for him to remove your shorts.

always so caring. your jungkook. but you think you might kill him if he doesn’t have your pants off in the next two seconds.

“please don’t stop,” you beg, and that’s all jungkook needs to hear before he’s nearly ripping your shorts and underwear off, coaxing your thighs open to reveal just how wet you are.

“shit,” he says as he traces a finger through your folds, making your cheeks burn hotter as he retracts said finger and closes his mouth around it to get a taste of you.

“jungkoook,” you whine, embarrassed at his crudeness. he only laughs in response, settling himself between your legs as he taps his fingers against your thigh comfortingly.

“what? i want the full experience! and you taste amazing.”

he’s shameless, you think, but you don’t get the chance to say it before he has his face buried between your legs. you inhale a broken gasp as he licks at your clit, rolling it with his tongue as his thumbs rub circles into the skin by your hip bones.

he alternated between flattening his tongue to gather your juices and pointing it to rub hard circles on your swollen clit, and the pace in which he does so is making you dizzy.

“fuckin’ gorgeous,” he slurs against you, and if it was possible, you’d say jungkook was drunk off of you.

“fuck, fuck, please,” you whimper, the high pitched sound piercing the otherwise quiet of your apartment.

jungkook seems to understand what you’re asking for as he immediately puts his fingers to good use, sliding his index finger into you and curling it up to hit your g-spot each time he enters you.

it leads to a humiliating amount of gushing from your entrance, jungkook again taking his finger out to suck everything you’d given him off.

“jungkook,” you wail as he swings your legs over his shoulders, nuzzling his head further between your legs, opening his mouth to moan against you.

your mouth opened in a silent scream as he began fucking you with calculated flicks of his tongue, the tip of his nose bumping into your clit with each nod of his head.

“baby, hmm-fuck!” you shudder as he continues the tantalizing action, running your hands through his hair and clenching your fingers around his soft tendrils as you felt the burning intensify in the pit of your stomach.

jungkook groans at the sting on his scalp, eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he works you to your orgasm.

his hard work pays off when your thighs start shaking around his head, your release coating his mouth, hard breaths wracking your chest as he cleans you up with gentle laps of his tongue.

when he reappears above your face, you cup his jaw with both of your hands, lazily blinking up at him as you both attempt to steady your breathing.

“that was,” you raise your eyebrows, eyes darting down to his lips as his tongue darts out to drag against his bottom lip.

“fucking hot,” jungkook finishes for you, humming when you lift your head off the pillow and catch his lips once more.

he exhales a heavy breath from his nostrils when you slip a hand down his sweatpants, rubbing his hard bulge through his boxers.

“please fuck me,” you beg again, all reservation thrown out the window as you stroke him through the thin fabric separating you from his dick.

“don’t have to tell me twice,” he grins, shuffling out of his pants and grabbing a foil packet from the pocket before tossing them off the bed.

your mouth dropped slightly as he slid his calvins off his hips, hard cock slapping his stomach. you reach for him, but he gently overrides your hand, beginning to roll the condom onto his tip.

“as much as i would love for you to touch me right now, i know i would blow my load right away,” he chuckles when you do, but gets serious again with his next words, “and i need to be inside of you very soon otherwise i’ll completely lose my sanity.”

as he says this, he settles back over your frame, caging you underneath him and exhaling shakily as his cockhead catches in your entrance with the movement.

“okay,” you smile, kissing him once more as he slides his hands under your knees, forcing your legs up to slide in with ease.

“oh, fuck,” he moans as he bottoms out inside of you, sucking a harsh breath between his teeth. his neck flexes above you, a sheen of sweat beginning to show. you’re tempted to suck on the supple skin there, but all thoughts go out the window when he starts gently grinding circles into you.

“are you okay?” he asks, and even in his still caring tone, you can hear his voice threatening to break under the throes of pleasure.

“‘m good,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him and playing with the hair on the back of his head, “you can move.”

he starts out slow, giving you deep thrusts that almost have his tip coming out before he pumps his entire length back inside of you.

“you’re so pretty,” he says suddenly, smirking when you grow flustered at his out of the blue confession, “i don’t tell you that enough.”

“y-you tell me that every day, jungkook,” you argue, brain muddled from the pleasure burning in your core.

“should be telling you at least three times a day,” he counters, an attractive grunt ending his sentence as he feels your muscles clench around his cock.

his eyes watch your every move, flicking down your bodies to where you’re connected, to your open mouth, to your scrunched eyebrows. he’s looking for clues of what you like, versus what you don’t.

experimentally, he snaps his hips a bit harder and faster, reaching a depth he hadn’t yet found within you.

“feels so good, baby,” you confirm around a gasp, jungkook readily diving down to swallow the moan you let out when he continues the delicious pace.

the bedsprings squeak under his movements, both of your moans accompanying the bothersome sound as the burning in the pit of your stomach grows.

the band feels like it’s been stretched past it’s limit and it’s about to snap. each time jungkook hits your g-spot feels like you’ve ascended to a different universe. you’re running your hands down his back to cope, digging your nails into his skin as he pushes you further up the mattress with his thrusts.

“squeezing me so tight, baby, ‘m not gonna last,” he pants into your ear, the sound so sexy that you hold him by the jaw again, tongues wrapping around each other as you both get closer and closer to your highs.

“gonna cum, i’m gonna cum kookie,” you whimper into his mouth, sobbing out a delighted moan when his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing circles into it with the pad of his finger.

“give it to me, baby, c’mon,” he moans, his hands folding your thighs up so they pressed flat to your stomach, hitting deeper with each thrust of his hips.

you cum with a high pitched whine of his name, jungkook responding with a series of “ah, ah, ah”s punctuating his final thrusts before he stills, exhaling a sigh of relief as he sets his forehead on your collarbone.

you cringe at the sting in your legs when he adjusts them to lay straight out on the bed again, jungkook apologizing with a soft kiss to your forehead that suddenly made the burning in your legs dissipate.

after discarding the condom in your bathroom, he walks back into the bedroom with a warm cloth in hand, gently dragging it between your legs to clean you.

you never dreamed that jungkook would be an aftercare king, but looking back on the months you spent with the sweet man, it made perfect sense.

your thoughts are interrupted by jungkook laying down next to you, swiping your hair back from your damp forehead.

“shit,” you finally say, at a complete loss for words in your post orgasm haze.

jungkook laughs, but it’s a kind laugh. he’s endeared, enamored, maybe just a little shy again now, because he just got to do everything he’s been dreaming of for months.

he shakes his head in disbelief before settling beside you, extending his arm for you to use as a pillow which you readily roll into.

“definitely couldn’t have done that through the phone.”

[carolinanadeau]

"this female character is underdeveloped" TO YOU. I can read subtext and I know all about her backstory and her rich inner life. also she told me personally

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

A lot can happen in six months (and yet nothing can change) (M)

Genre: Hallmark Christmas Romcom!core, Ex!Mingyu, angst, bad decisions are made and talked about, porn somewhere in here because of course

Warnings: Exes are exes, breakups are breakups and this writer doesn’t know what that’s all like, creampie, unprotected sex, switch?gyu, switch?yn, dub con

Summary: 

Six months ago you and Mingyu broke up and you weren’t sure exactly how to move on. Now, he was calling you all over again, as you to go on a non-refundable romantic Christmas weekend in New York City, and you know that you should say no... But how on Earth, does one say no to Kim Mingyu? 

-

All things in life happen for a reason. 

That’s what you told yourself like a mantra whenever you weren’t sure where your life was headed. When you were graduating high school and only got into one of your colleges, when your grandpa died and you had to fly out to your hometown for his funeral, even when you lost your job and spent five months unemployed unable to land a job despite your many qualifications. 

But the time that echoed the loudest through your brain, the time you depended on it the most was the time that you would live to hate for the rest of your life. 

“Walk out that door and we are through.” 

When you had made it to Chwe Hansol’s apartment door, you were sobbing and he had a girl hooked to his arm. 

In minutes, that girl was gone and you two were alone in his apartment, your head in his lap as you sobbed. 

“I don’t get it,” you stuttered through tears. “We were fine. And then he-“ 

You hiccuped but before you could say more the door was opening to the apartment. You looked over your shoulder to see a blurry image of short brown hair and tall slender legs. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Hansol said softly. “I invited Dasom over.” 

You turned back to Hansol shoving your face into his chest as the tears ran freely down your face. Of course, you didn’t mind Dasom being over. Out of everyone in your life Hansol and Dasom were your two favorites. They had been there for you since before Mingyu and you had ever even met. They knew all of the ups and downs of your relationship with him and everything. 

Never had you imagined that they would end up seeing the end of it. 

“What happened?” Dasom asked, a hand finding its way to your back. “Hansol just said that it was an emergency and I needed to come over.” 

You pulled out of Hansol’s chest, giving her what had to be an incredibly pathetic look. 

“We broke up-” 

This time instead of falling into Hansol, you fell against Dasom, burying your face into her neck. 

“This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Hansol said bluntly. You looked over at him, shooting him a glare. 

“Hey-“ 

“The world doesn’t end because you stop dating Kim Mingyu.” 

“I thought I was going to be with Kim Mingyu for the rest of my life,” you snapped back. “He was supposed to be my last relationship. My ride or die. The man I married.” 

“How did this even happen?” Dasom asked, still completely lost. You looked at her. 

“He thought I cheated on him.” 

“Which is stupid,” Hansol inserted. 

“Well, it wasn’t baseless!” You protested. You dug your phone out of your pocket, clumsily unlocking it and shoving the phone in Dasom’s face. 

“This is why he thought I cheated and honestly? I’m starting to think I did cheat on him.” 

Dasom took your phone, confusion settling itself on her face as she scrolled through the conversation. 

“You cheated on Mingyu?” She asked in disbelief. 

“Of course, I didn’t!” You protested. 

“Then who is Byungho?” She asked. 

“Who is Byungho?” You agreed loudly. “Do you know a Byungho? I don’t. Hansol doesn’t. No one does! But who would believe that with that conversation on my phone.” 

Hansol scoffed and took the phone from Dasom’s hands, looking at the conversation himself. 

“Obviously Mingyu should know you better than this. This person doesn’t even text like you.” 

“I think he was too busy having his heart broken to analyze the way that I was texting,” you said bluntly. “So instead, he just broke mine too.” 

You broke down into sobs earning yourself a sigh of sympathy from Dasom. 

“What are you going to do? You and Mingyu were perfect together,” Dasom said. “You’ve got to get him back.” 

“There’s no getting him back, he blocked me on everything,” you replied between your tears. “And I tried to go back to our apartment, but Soonyoung threatened to take legal action if I showed up again.” 

“What a-” 

“He’s just being a good friend,” you interrupted shooting yet another glare at Hansol. “I can’t even be mad I’m just… Completely and utterly helpless and I’m never going to be in love ever again.” 

“Hey-“ 

When you didn’t look up Dasom’s hands fell on your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. 

“You’re going to fall in love again. Everything is going to be okay.” 

You nodded at her, but your heart didn’t really match the optimism. 

“Besides, who knows? Maybe this will all blow over and Mingyu will take you back.” 

But weeks of staring at your phone waiting for that phone call turned into months, and before you knew it all your stuff was in Hansol’s apartment and he was the first person that you saw every day. 

Now, you were the you after Kim Mingyu. 

“Y/n!” Jeonghan cheered from across the bar, holding up two shots. “Come here! Let’s toast!” 

You waved off the person you were talking to and squeezed past people in the bar until you were pushed right up to Jeonghan. You smiled at him as he pushed one of the shot glasses into your hand. 

“Let’s drink,” he said excitedly. “To being newly single.” 

“I’ve been single, Jeonghan,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “And Jihyo was barely a relationship.” 

Jeonghan’s mouth dropped open and he feigned hurt by placing his hands to his chest. 

“Barely a relationship?” He exclaimed. “After the amount of sex we had I wouldn’t say-” 

Loud protests coming from you stopped Jeonghan from talking with a laugh. 

“Look, you’re just jealous because no one has even tested the waters with you since you and Mingyu broke up.” 

“That’s not true,” you insisted. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.  

“Okay then, where’s the comprehensive list?” 

You comically dropped open your mouth. 

“Mr. Yoon, I don’t kiss and tell.” 

Before Jeonghan could attempt to humiliate you further, a hand wrapped around your wrist, and Dasom fixed you with a large smile. 

“Did you come here to talk to Jeonghan or did you come here to have fun?” She asked. You laughed, letting her drag you into the middle of the bar. She put her back to a guy you knew she didn’t know and began to grind on him. You covered your mouth as you laughed as she turned and drew the guy into a kiss. 

When she looked back at you she gestured around her. 

“Come on. Pick a guy. Don’t you want to have fun tonight?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m just dancing here on my own,” you said, moving your hands to your sides and doing a truly awful dance move from side to side. As you moved someone came up behind you, their hand on the small of your back. 

“I know a guy you could grind on.” 

You turned back to Jeonghan. 

“Why don’t you find a different person to grind with?” You said. “You might not strike out if you start somewhere else.” 

He laughed. 

“Okay no grinding, but I have all night to find someone to go home with.” 

His hand move to yours and he swung your hand back and forth. 

“Tonight I’ll just bother you until we find someone for you to hook up with.” 

You rolled your eyes, falling into step with Jeonghan as you two danced around the room. 

“I’m not going to hook up with someone tonight,” you protested. 

“Come on!” Jeonghan protested. “You’ve got to! You’re in a dry spell. You’re never going to move on from Mingyu if you don’t take this step.” 

“I’ve moved on from Mingyu,” you replied. “It’s been months-” 

“Six to be exact,” Jeonghan replied. “Six months since anyone has entered your sacred temple-” 

“Ew-” 

“It’s not healthy to go that long without sex,” Jeonghan said seriously. You shook your head. 

“I’ll get back into the game when I’m ready to get back into the game,” you said. “You should focus on your own chances tonight. You’re going to strike out a lot with that shirt on.” 

Jeonghan laughed but he seemed to accept your answer this time. He spun you around, his eyes suddenly on the crowd around him. 

“Alright, so let’s see,” he said softly. “Who do you think is the girl who has drank the least but is still hot and smart enough to come home with me tonight?” 

“I actually think everyone here is too smart to go home with you tonight,” you replied. Before Jeonghan could express his offense you pointed at a girl not too far. 

“What about her? She’s hot, and she’s not holding a drink,” you suggested. He hummed, clicking his tongue.  

“She’s watching her friends like a hawk though. No way she would leave the bar with me.” 

“Unless we get her to send her friend's home one by one,” you replied. “All it takes is for an observation from a friend and a certain Yoon Jeonghan offering to call them a cab like an absolute angel.” 

A smile spread over Jeonghan’s lips as he slowly whistled and then pressed his lips to your cheek in a brief kiss, that left you laughing and batting him away. 

“You clever thing you.” 

To be completely honest you liked helping Jeonghan with his hook ups and simple plans like getting a couple of friends home safe while Jeonghan made his move were fun. You weren’t surprised when Jeonghan was leaving the bar with a girl on his arm, and a wink over his shoulder in your direction. 

Luckily for you, during the whole debacle you had found a fun stranger to pass the time with. 

You weren’t paying any attention to the time, or even Dasom as you danced with the person, talking about your day and your plans for the week. 

You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket and you glanced down, slipping it out of your pocket. It took one glance at the phone number on your screen to have you pushing your beer on the counter. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

You felt your heart rate increasing as you pushed through the crowd, feeling the phone vibrating in your hand. Each time it vibrated you worried that you were taking too long, and yet you still had a while before you would get out of the bar. 

Before you could think it over twice, you answered the call pressing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi, just one second-” 

You pushed past a few more people and out the door of the bar, jogging until you were in the quiet alley next to the bar. 

“Hi, sorry, it’s so loud in there,” you said, laughing slightly as you changed the ear that your phone was pressed to. 

“Hello.” 

You hadn’t thought you were going to hear that soft voice ever again. You thought maybe right now on the phone he sounded raspier. But maybe that was just in your head. 

“Sorry, this is-” 

“I know it’s you Mingyu,” you breathed, pressing your back against the brick wall behind you. 

“You still have my contact?” 

“No. I’d just recognize your phone number in my sleep.” 

There was a moment of silence where Mingyu took the chance to breath. 

“This is.... This is stupid,” he finally said. “I shouldn’t ask you this.” 

You waited for him to go on, but he was hesitant. 

“Maybe not,” you agreed. “But I can tell you if it really is or not. Just ask.” 

You really didn’t care what he had to say. You just wanted to continue to hear his voice. 

“You know how we had planned to go to New York together for Christmas?” 

You were quiet for too long. You were enjoying listening to him so much that you forgot how to speak. 

“Yeah. We booked the flight and hotel and everything,” you replied. 

“Well, it’s non-refundable.” 

“What?” 

“The flight, the hotel? It’s all non-refundable.” 

“Oh,” you replied softly. “Well, that’s okay. You should still go.”  “No, no, I want you to go,” Mingyu replied softly. “It was your dream to go there over Christmas.” 

“Mingyu you paid for it. I can’t just take your-” 

“I’m not going on that trip,” Mingyu interrupted, his voice rough. You scoffed. 

“I’m not going either.” 

There was silence between the two of you, long enough that a few minutes passed and neither of you hung up. You wondered if he was holding on for the same reasons as you were. Because you missed him more than you had realized. 

“Y/n, I shouldn’t have called you.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. 

“And I’m about to suggest you something stupid that I really shouldn’t suggest.” 

“I can decide that.” 

He sighed. 

“If you won’t go to New York because I paid for the tickets, and I won’t go because you’re the one who wanted to why don’t we.... Meet in the middle.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

“Meet in the...?” 

“Let’s go to New York together.” 

“What?” You blurted. You cleared your throat, trying to get control of how loud you had been. “Mingyu that’s crazy.” 

“It’s crazy for us to just let the money go to waste!” 

“Do you even want to go on the trip with me? You’re the one who-” 

“I know what I said,” Mingyu interrupted. “I’m not... I’m not saying I regret it I just... You deserve that. At least. After this year, you deserve New York City at Christmas.” 

Silence fell between you two again. 

“I shouldn’t have-” 

“Let’s do it.” 

“... Really?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It’s just one weekend right? What harm is one weekend?” 

“You’re stupid,” Hansol insisted, watching you from your bed as you packed another shirt into your suitcase. You shot him annoyed look, which just made him shoot you another wide eyed one. “What? You are! You’re going on a weekend trip with your ex?” 

“It’s just five days.” 

“That’s five more days than you ever thought you would see him again,” Hansol hissed. “You’re going to go on that trip and you’re going to-” 

“What?” You interrupted Hansol. “Fall in love with him again? It’s five days. I’m not going to fall in love with him again over five days.” 

Hansol was quiet for a little bit and while it should have made you relieved you couldn’t help but think that the silence was worse than him talking. You tried really hard to ignore it for a few minutes but the silence was deafening. 

“What?” You sighed. Hansol looked away from you. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he said. 

“You think I’m going to fall back in love with Mingyu on this trip?” You pressed. 

Hansol sighed. 

“I don’t think that you are ever fell out of love with him.” 

You stopped in the middle of packing your bags, looking away from Hansol. You hated the way his words made a knot grow in your throat. Not because Hansol was wrong and it was making you frustratrated… But because you knew that he was right. 

“A lot of people are still in love with their exes,” you said quietly. “Our break up wasn’t satisfying for me since I never got the chance to explain. Of course I’m still in love with him.” 

“It’s not going to be good for you to go on this trip with him,” Hansol insisted. “Let’s say he falls back in love with you. Because you’re familiar and he misses you even though he thinks you cheated on him. He’s never going to trust you. He’ll never believe you when you promise that guy from the club approached you unsolicited or that Chan from work really did need extra help.” 

“Hansol, you’re being ridiculous,” you insisted. “Mingyu has too much self-respect for himself to go back to me after I cheated on him.” 

“You forget I was friends with him before the break up,” Hansol said. “If Mingyu loved you as much as he seemed to, then he very well would take you back.” 

You weren’t really sure how you were supposed to react to the prospect of getting back together with Mingyu. Your whole body buzzed at the excitement of it, but you couldn’t help but think about what Hansol was saying. 

Would he really take you back just because you were familiar? Was it possible that he missed what you two used to have? Surely, he wouldn’t subject himself to the pain of never being able to trust you just because he had never been able to fully move on from your relationship. 

You shook your head, clearing your mind of your rampant thoughts. 

“It’s just a trip,” you said. “Nothing’s going to happen on a trip.” 

- 

“You know it’s not too late to back out,” Hansol warned as you looked through your bag to try and make sure that you had all of the documents that you were going to need. “I won’t be upset with you if you want me to drive you back home.” 

“I’m going on this trip Hansol,” you said, shooting him a glare. “I don’t care if you don’t think it’s smart. I’m already here and packed. Besides…” I want to see Mingyu again. 

Before Hansol could start to lecture you again about how bad of an idea it was, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. You dug it out and shushed Hansol as you answered the phone. 

“Hi,” you said. 

“Hey it’s-“ 

“Mingyu, I know it’s you,” you interrupted softly. “I just got to the airport. Are you here?” 

“Yeah, I can see you.” 

Your eyebrows raised. 

“Oh, where-” 

“Turn to your right and right next to the pillar…” 

You followed Mingyu’s instructions and when you finally found him, standing across the airport in a long dark grey trench coat with a scarf tied tightly around his neck… You forgot how to breath. 

You hadn’t seen Mingyu since the fight. Not even in passing on the street or at a club by chance. You hadn’t seen Mingyu since the fight. 

Your phone lowered ever so slightly from your ear and your mouth gaped a little. You felt your eyes flutter and- 

You felt yourself get nudged sharply in the side. 

“Just a weekend trip?” Hansol hissed at you. You glared at him and shoved your finger in front of your lips again. 

“He can hear and see us.” 

“Good, maybe I can talk some sense into him about-” 

“I’ll be right over,” you interrupted loudly into the phone, quickly hanging up. As soon as the phone call had ended you looked over at Hansol giving him a look that you could only hope would kill. 

“Can you not be good for two seconds?” You asked him. “I’m going on this trip. Would it kill you to be supportive?” 

“You took one look at Mingyu and it was like you were already falling in love with him all over again,” Hansol said. “Did you not see your face? You looked like you were ready to marry him and you haven’t seen him in six months.” 

“Shut up Hansol. You’re making it out to be a much bigger deal then it is,” you snapped. You snatched your suitcase from Hansol’s hands. “If you’re not going to be civil you can just leave me right now.” 

“I’m just trying to look out for you!” Hansol argued back. “And not just you, I’m trying to look out for Mingyu as well.” 

“We don’t need your help Hansol!” You argued back. You felt heat raising to your face, but before you could argue with him more you forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Look. This is the last time I’ll see you before Christmas. I don’t want to argue with you right before Christmas.” 

Hansol scoffed and looked away from you so you sighed. 

“Hansol, you know you’re my best friend ever right?” You pressed softly. Hansol glanced over at you. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

You stepped closer to him, smiling up at him. 

“I love you.” 

Hansol tried to still look annoyed but a small smile spread itself over his lips. 

“I love you too.” He said. He raised his hand to your hair. “Be good in New York, okay? You know I’m just a phone call away.” 

You nodded, and you went to say something else to him but before he could someone cleared their throat. You glanced over, your face flaming red when you realized that Mingyu was standing right there next to you. You took a step back, your fingers tightening around the handle to your suitcase. 

“Sorry,” you murmured. 

Mingyu shrugged. 

“I’m not upset,” he said. His eyes flitted over to Hansol and they narrowed slightly. “I’d be upset too if my roommate was going on a weekend trip without me.” 

Hansol rolled his eyes. 

“Good to see you too,” he said. He turned his attention back to you. 

“Don’t forget,” he reminded, taping his phone with his index finger. “Just a call away.” 

“See you Hansol,” you said. He nodded and raised his hand in farewell, nodding to Mingyu as he left. You watched him for a while, secretly wishing he would stay with you two just a little longer. 

“So… You’ve moved on from Byungho then?” 

“Byungho?” You repeated, your eyebrows scrunching at the name. Mingyu scoffed and took your suitcase from your hand. 

“You and Hansol just looked really comfortable,” he replied. Your eyebrows furrowed at the statement, but you were too focused on your suitcase to mind. 

“Hey, why are you-” 

“It’s always the ones that they tell you not to worry about,” Mingyu continued with a roll of his eyes. He started walking forward, not really giving you the time to digest the statement. “Come on, our gate is this way.” 

You rushed forward to try and keep up with Mingyu- he was walking fast. You noted that he never used to walk this fast. Not when you two were dating. People always talked about how fast Mingyu walked but you had always been able to keep up with him so you just assumed that you were a fast walker too. 

Now it was evident that he walked slower then for you. 

“It’s uh…” You trailed off, glancing at the people walking past. “It’s really nice to see you.” 

Mingyu was quiet, so you decided to press the topic. 

“I never thought you were going to talk to me again.” 

“I didn’t either,” Mingyu replied, his voice soft. You thought again about what Hansol had said. Remembered that he thought Mingyu would let himself fall back into a relationship that lacked trust and… 

“So, we’ve got quite the flight ahead of us,” you said, clearing your throat and turning away from Mingyu. 

He hummed, as he looked you up and down. 

“Yeah.” 

He sighed. 

“Aren’t you cold? Do you know how cold it is outside? And it’s going to be even colder in New York,” he commented. You glanced down at your clothes, your head falling to the side. 

“I’m wearing a long-sleeve.” 

“But you get cold so easily,” Mingyu replied. You’re going to be freezing in New York.” 

You rolled your eyes away from him. 

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted. Mingyu seemed like he didn’t want to argue it anymore and his attention turned away from you. 

“Our gate isn’t that far from here. Did you eat?” 

As he walked, your eyes stayed trained on your bag that he was rolling through the airport. 

“Hansol and I grabbed coffee on the way here,” you replied. 

“Oh,” he said, sounding- If you remembered him as well as you thought he did- a little disappointed. “I haven’t had anything. I think I’ll grab a scone and an americano once we get to our gate.” 

“Okay,” you replied. “Can I have my bag back?” 

“I’ve got it,” Mingyu replied. 

Your eyes narrowed, but Mingyu didn’t notice because he was walking so damn fast. You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath until you two finally got to the gate and he had sat your bags by one of the seats. 

“I’m going to swing by the Starbucks okay? I’ll be right back.” 

You nodded and as soon as Mingyu had disappeared you went through your bag to try and find the book that you had brought to help pass the time. It was sort of hard to focus on it. After all, you were in an airport with Mingyu and you were about to go on a weekend trip with him. Your ex. 

You had never done anything so stupid. Somehow with your past relationships the breaks had always been clean and there had never been any drama between your friends. No rumors of cheating, no emotional abuse. Just a I think we should break up text and a normal following Tuesday. 

But your relationship with Mingyu had been so intense. It being ripped away from you meant you never got the closure that you so desperately craved. 

“Here.” 

You looked up to see that Mingyu was holding a Starbucks cup in front of your face. Your eyebrows rose. 

“What...” You trailed off as you took the warm cup from you. 

“I wasn’t just not going to get you something. I hope you still like lattes.” 

Mingyu took a seat next to you and pulled a danish from out of a little bag. He began to snack on it, taking a sip of his americano between the drink. As he did, you turned your attention to the latte that he had gotten you. It was hot. You generally enjoyed them iced, but you knew he must have gotten it hot because it was so cold out and he wanted you to stay warm. 

You took a sip of it, glad to see that not only did it have your favorite kind of milk in it but that it was a flavor of latte that you hadn’t had since the breakup. You smiled against your cup, turning your head so that Mingyu wouldn’t see. You had sort of thought that Mingyu would have forgotten these little things about you. 

Mingyu didn’t talk to you much while you waited for the flight to start boarding. You read your book and finished your coffee and he threw away your things before you two finally got called on board. 

Getting onto the plane brought you the very first surprise of the trip. As you two walked through the plane you walked past the normal part of the plane... Then the business part of the plane... Until you got to... 

“You bought us first class?” You hissed. Mingyu glanced over his shoulder at you and shrugged. 

“It was your dream to come to New York City for Christmas. I wanted this trip to be a dream.” 

 “Going to the city of lights is a dream enough you didn’t have to buy us first class tickets.” 

The two of you sat down in seats that were practically twin recliners right next to each other with a large shared movie screen between the two. You glanced around as you sat your stuff down noticing the people next to the two of you had a literal gucci jacket on. 

“Mingyu, how much did this cost?” You asked, keeping your voice hushed so that it wasn’t too obvious that you two didn’t belong here. 

“I had just gotten a promotion... Remember?” Mingyu asked. “I make a lot of money now.” 

“Yeah but...” 

“Don’t worry about it, y/n.” 

“I can’t believe you almost let this much money go to waste,” you said with a shake of your head. “How am I supposed to not worry about it? That’s a lot of money.” 

“Why don’t you pick a movie?” Mingyu suggested, ignoring the fact that you were obsessing so much over how much money he must have spent on these tickets alone. 

“You can’t distract me from...” 

Even as you spoke Mingyu had started to scroll through the movies on the screen, and before you could finish your statement you saw something that you hadn’t thought you would see. 

“No way they have Onward,” you exclaimed excitedly. You instinctively grabbed Mingyu’s arm, and shook it the best you could (Mingyu barely budged because... You know...). “Can we watch Onward? Please?” 

“You haven’t changed a bit have you?” Mingyu asked with a laugh. “I think they also have Frozen on here. You sure you don’t want to watch that?” 

The endorphins raced in your body at the idea of watching that movie too. 

“It’s a long flight,” you said. “We can just watch both right?” 

Mingyu hummed. 

“Yeah, we can watch both.” 

If there was one thing that you hadn’t been expecting to happen when going on this trip was to fall into old habits. But the entirety of the flight didn’t feel awkward at all. Instead, you spent the whole trip reciting your favorite lines, under your breath, only to catch Mingyu smiling at you in between instead of being annoyed the way that you would think he would be. 

Eventually he dozed off to sleep, and it was just you sitting next to him on the flight. 

You couldn’t help the feeling in the bottom of your chest. A feeling that you hadn’t felt in six months. You swallowed hard and looked down at your hands. 

You thought you needed to focus on the Onward and stop focusing on the sleeping man next to you. 

When you and Mingyu made it to the hotel you tried your best not to freak out like you had about the first-class tickets. Why would you have to try your best not to freak out? Because the giant marble atrium of the hotel lobby that you were standing in was making you think that maybe Mingyu spent a little bit more than the budget you two had discussed so long ago. 

“I have a reservation under Kim Mingyu,” Mingyu said to the attendant who was standing there with real diamond earrings in her ears. She smiled at him, and typed a few things on her computer. 

“Ah right, Kim Mingyu. The gentleman who booked our honeymoon suite over Christmas.” 

“Oh-” Mingyu laughed nervously, glancing back at you. “I called to switch the room. Did that not end up happening?” 

The lady’s head cocked to the side and her eyebrows riddled in confusion. 

“We didn’t get a call about that? Do you remember who you talked to?” 

“Angela,” Mingyu replied without missing a beat. “She said that she could switch to a room with two queens...?” 

The lady at the desk sighed. 

“Between you and me? Angela is days from getting fired. She never does what she is supposed to.” The lady clicked away at her computer. “Let me see. You just need a room with two beds?” 

“Yes. You don’t have to charge me less just... Some things have changed.” 

The lady at the desk thankfully didn’t pry. She clicked away at her computer for a while before finally sighing and turning her attention to Mingyu. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Kim, but I have nothing.” 

“Nothing at all? I mean we’ll take-” 

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, taking a step forward. You smiled at the lady and shrugged. “He’s always so considerate but it’s really fine if we share a bed. The honeymoon suite sounds fun.” 

You couldn’t help the way you bit the bottom of your lip. 

“Expensive,” you mumbled and then flashed a smile. “Fun.” 

“Okay! Then here are your keys-” She slid the two of you hotel room keys. “It’s the top floor. Has a balcony, only room on that floor. Would you like someone to take your bags up to the room?” 

Before you could answer Mingyu was nodding. 

“We have a show to catch.” 

You turned to Mingyu your eyes wide as you mouthed: Show to catch? 

Mingyu shrugged. 

“We’re going to see Beetlejuice on Broadway.” 

“What!” Your voice rose a little louder than you wanted it to, so you covered your mouth and leaned closer to Mingyu. 

“We’re going to see Beetlejuice?” You hissed. “How are we going to see Bettlejuice?” 

“It was the musical you wanted to see when we made the plans to come here,” Mingyu replied pointedly. “I bought the tickets back then.” 

“How did you know that I wanted to see Beetlejuice?” You asked. Mingyu reached into his jacket pocket, rummaging through it a little bit before pulling out a piece of paper. 

“Don’t you remember? You wrote an itinerary for the trip,” he replied. You took the piece of paper and surely enough, there it was... The itinerary that you had spent hours drafting up all those months ago. You had completely forgotten about this itinerary. In fact, when you and Mingyu had broken up you had completely scrapped all thoughts of coming to New York City at all. 

“You still have this?” You asked. Mingyu’s eyebrows scrunched together uncertainly, and shrugged. 

“I...” He trailed off, clearly trying to think of something good to say. “We should go now so that we have plenty of time to get in our seats.” 

- 

“I can’t believe we just saw a Broadway musical,” you said excitedly. “And Beetlejuice at that? Remember, that was the only thing I listened to for like a straight month.” 

Mingyu smiled at you as he took his coat off and began to take yours off your shoulders. 

“Dead mom was stuck in my head for like a week straight,” he replied with a chuckle. “How could I forget?” 

You sang the song quietly under your breath for a moment and then your eyes fell on the single bed in the room. You swallowed hard. 

“Uhm, so what are we going to do about...?” 

You didn’t even have to finish. Mingyu finished hanging up your two’s coats and then joined you looking at the bed. 

“I’ll just sleep on the floor. They have extra bedding in the closet.” 

“What?” You blurted. “You shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor. You spent so much money on this room-” 

“I keep telling you to forget about the money-” 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” you finished. 

“Not happening,” Mingyu replied with a shake of his head. “Why are you being so bratty on this trip? It’s just a few nights on the floor. I’ll survive.” 

“Bratty?” You blurted, your mouth dropping in disbelief. “Did you really just call me bratty?” 

“You keep worrying about money when I tell you not to.” 

“Even when we were dating, I didn’t like it when you spoiled me!” You insisted.  

That wasn’t entirely true, and you knew by the narrowing of his eyes that Mingyu could tell. You had liked it when Mingyu spent money on you because you knew that was a part of his love language, and you could pay him back in your own ways. 

But here? Now? How would you pay him back? 

And furthermore, why was he using his love language on you here and now? Six months after your breakup. Six months after he was supposed to take you back. 

You glanced up at him as he began to pull something out of his suitcase. 

Six months too late. 

“Let’s just share the bed,” you suggested. Mingyu looked back at you, frowning slightly. 

“Share...?” 

“We’re already crossing every boundary,” you pointed out. “Might as well cross this one too.” 

You went over to your own bag. 

“Besides, it’s a king size. It’ll be like we’re both in our own bed.” 

Even though you said that laying down in the bed with Mingyu made you nervous. 

“Do you mind if I read something?” Mingyu asked. You gestured for him to go ahead and rolled over so that your back was to him. You were scared to move. Practically hugging the side of the bed as you stared at the beige wall in front of you illuminated in the amber light. 

“Is it too bright?” Mingyu asked. You shook your head against your pillow. 

“No, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay with sharing the bed?” Mingyu continued. You glanced back at him over your shoulder. 

“Of course, I suggested it.” 

“You’re stiff as a board,” Mingyu pointed out. Your mouth gaped. 

“I’m not-” 

“We were together for-” 

“Okay fine, I’m a little on edge,” you replied. “It’s just that we broke up. I mean we can pretend all we want that it’s not but... It’s weird.” 

Mingyu nodded. 

“Let me just take the floor.” 

“I’ll get over it,” you replied firmly. You turned back around. “If I’m not sleeping on the floor, no one is sleeping on the floor.” 

Mingyu sighed but didn’t argue your point. 

“Tell me if I should turn the light off.” 

You didn’t tell Mingyu to turn the light off, but you didn’t fall asleep either. Time passed until Mingyu’s pages stopped turning, and the light went off, and he laid down in the bad. It wasn’t until long after his breathing evened out that you were finally able to drift asleep. 

When you woke up on your own side of the bed you had never felt more relieved in your life. You were on your side of the bed, not wrapped in Mingyu’s arms with your head on your chest or anything of the sort. 

After the whole one bed debacle you had been sure that you had been thrust into some shitty hallmark movie about being forced to spend time with your ex for holidays (one that probably wouldn’t have a happy ending but... Who knew.) Maybe that one cliché was just a coincidence. You sat up in bed, not really surprised to find that Mingyu was awake and reading through his book again. 

While he had never been much of a reader, Mingyu read what Wonwoo read, and this must have been his most recent recommendation. 

You quietly got out of bed, going over to your suitcase to pull out your outfit for today. 

“Mind if I shower?” You asked, noting that it looked like he had already gotten ready. 

“No go ahead. We have a reservation for breakfast in an hour.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. 

“We aren’t just eating breakfast here at the hotel?” 

“In New York City?” Mingyu questioned back. “If I remember right...” 

He pulled out that wrinkled paper itinerary. 

“You were very excited about Old John’s Diner.” 

You couldn’t help the way that your eyes lit up at the reminder of the restaurant. 

“Oh my god, chocolate chip waffles,” you said excitedly. “I’ll be out so fast.” 

True to your word, within the next hour you and Mingyu were sitting down at Old John’s diner. The diner was everything that you had imagined it to be in the pictures. Green stools at a bar, light up Parquette's that read: Take a Break and Sweet Dreams. An espresso machine to match the green bar stools, a led light that read: Since 1959. 

You were practically buzzing in excitement as you slid into one of the booths, your fingers spreading across the marble tabletops. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” you hissed. Your waitress walked over adorned in a red hankerchief tied around her head like a headband and she smiled handing the two of you a menu. 

“Good morning,” she greeted. “Can I get you two started with anything? Water? Coffee?” 

“An Americano,” Mingyu said. 

“A latte,” you piped up afterwards. The waitress wrote down the menu items and smiled at the two of you.  

“I’ll give you some time to look at the menu and I’ll be back soon.” 

You didn’t have to look at the menu to know that you wanted chocolate chip waffles. How could you want anything but chocolate chip waffles? You had practically been thinking about these specific waffles for six months. 

But still you peeked up over the top of your menu, looking at Mingyu close, trying to tell by his eyes what he was going to pick. Six months ago you would have known. Six months ago he would have chosen exactly what you had suggested on the itinerary. 

But this wasn’t six months ago. This was now. 

“What are you thinking of getting?” You asked conversationally. Mingyu hummed, dragging his eyes up to yours. As soon as you two made eye contact however your eyes darted back towards your menu, feeling your heart do something strangely akin to skipping a beat. 

But surely, after having broken six months ago it was incapable of doing that. 

“Do I really have a choice?” He asked, but there was a smile in his voice. “Chocolate chip waffles.” 

Yep, that surely was that feeling in your chest. That echoing, body shaking thud after an absent one was nothing other than your heart reactigin to Mingyu’s words. You weren’t going to do this. 

You weren’t here to fall back in love with Kim Mingyu. 

 You were here to experience the city. To finally see Times Square dusted in snow. To take a walk through Central Park to- 

“Oh my god, wait.” You put your menu face down on the table. “If we are following my itinerary-” 

“To the T,” Mingyu added. 

“That means we’re doing.... Everything?” 

“Our next stop is Starbucks, and then we are seeing Santa Claus at the Empire State Building. We’ll get some KBBQ in Korea Town after that and then go to one of those Holiday Market’s you just wouldn’t stop talking about-” 

“Oh my god and then Spectacular Factory right?!” You exclaimed in excitement. 

“The Holiday Multiverse, open through January 8, is an imaginative multiverse of holiday villages with a candy cane carousel, thousands of nutcrackers, giant swinging jingle bells, holiday wreaths,” Mingyu read somewhat monotone. “We’ll hit the shops and check out the Holiday window displays.” 

“We’re finally going to get to go to Bergdorf Goodman,” you replied, fidgeting in your seat. “And shopping at Fao Schwarz.” 

“Which you kindly included closes at 8, so we have quite the day ahead of us,” Mingyu replied. “But luckily, the last thing on the docket today is open late.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to remember what the last thing for the day was, but you were drawing a blank. 

“McGee’s pub?” Mingyu reminded softly. 

“From How I Met Your Mother! The bar that inspired it all!” You exclaimed excitedly. You realized that you were getting a little loud and physically lowered your head a little. “Mingyu we’re keeping my entire itinerary?” 

“You spent hours on it!” Mingyu replied. “How could we do anything but?” 

He was right. You had spent a long time on it. But regardless it seemed crazy to you that he was going so far out of his way to make this the perfect vacation.  

“I’ve got to ask though... Starbucks?” 

When you looked at him you saw the jest in his eyes, but you still felt the need to defend yourself as if he wasn’t just joking. 

“It’s New York City!” You replied insistently. “How could I not get Starbucks in New York City?” 

A plate of gooey chocolate chip pancakes, and a tall caramel macchiato later and you and Mingyu were almost up for seeing Santa in none other than the Empire State Building itself. 

When you were younger and had imagined that architectural landmark you had never imagined it would be just as amazing as it was. Sure, it was just a building, but it still left you awestruck. Mingyu poked your arm. 

“We’re almost up,” he said softly. 

You thought it would be awkward to spend this time with Mingyu. And sure, it hadn’t been that long but so far it was everything but awkward. It was actually quite comfortable. You knew that if you had come to New York City for a weekend trip with most people your ideas would clash, but just like Mingyu had insisted since you started planning the trip when you were dating the trip was all about you and if you want to do it, then I will have fun guaranteed. 

“I can’t believe that you actually want to see Santa Claus,” you said with a scoff. 

“Hey, it was on your itinerary!” Mingyu protested. He crossed his arms. “Besides, I have something I need to ask Santa.” 

You laughed incredulously. 

“Mingyu,” you lowered your voice a few octaves. “Santa’s not real. He can’t make your Christmas wish come true.” 

Mingyu’s face contorted into that of a kicked puppies. His eyes wide, his eyebrows lax, his bottom lip protruding.  

“Not with that attitude he can’t.” 

“I just thought it would be good for pictures,” you said, resisting the urge to pat Mingyu’s head as if he actually were a dog. “But it seems a little odd to take pictures now.” 

“Proof that even exes can get along,” Mingyu said matter-of-factly. 

“Next.” 

You and Mingyu wormed your way around the velvet ropes up to the man pretending to be Santa Claus. He was sitting in a huge gold and velvet chair, with arm rests perfect for sitting on. 

“Well look what I have here,” Santa Claus boomed. “It’s always good to see older believers.” 

“Oh y/n, doesn’t really believe. Just wanted the pictures,” Mingyu tattled. 

“Yeah but you believe Mingyu. That’s what matters.” 

Mingyu’s eyes lit up in excitement that Santa knew his name, even though it was obvious that he had just overheard you two a few moments ago. Santa gestured for you two to take either side of him, patting his legs as you two took your seats by his side. 

“Now before the picture. Have you two been good this year?” Santa asked. Mingyu smiled so gummily it was like he was a little kid again. 

“Absolutely! I pulled a few pranks on the boys but overall, I’ve been good.” 

Santa let out a hearty laugh. 

“A few pranks is okay,” he said. He turned his attention to you. “And you? Have you been good this year?” 

“I’ve made a few mistakes,” you replied, risking a glance at Mingyu. “Some people think I’ve made ones I haven’t, but other than that I think I’ve been good.” 

“Well, we can’t help what others think,” Santa replied. “ But remember, this is the time of truth and forgiveness. If there’s ever a time that you would be able to convince someone of something you know to be true. Now is it.” 

Santa shrugged off-handedly. 

“Maybe that person already half-believes it anyways.” 

You couldn’t help but think that Santa was awfully on point with his speech but before you could say anything about it he was turning his attention to Mingyu. 

“Now Mingyu,” he said. “What is it that you want for Christmas?” 

Mingyu gestured for Santa to lean close. 

“I can’t let y/n hear or it won’t come true,” he insisted, making you roll your eyes. You couldn’t hear what Mingyu said but you noticed that his eyes stayed on you the whole time he told Santa his wish, and his expression was scarily serious. 

Santa nodded. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said seriously. He turned to you. “And what do you want for Christmas?” 

You knew that you were supposed to say something dumb that any adult would say. Or you were supposed to ask for something a kid would ask as as joke: Oh I’m still waiting on that Easy-bake oven. 

But any joke that was going to leave your mouth died on your lips. 

“I just want him to believe me,” you whispered softly. Your eyes flickered to Mingyu’s worried that he could hear you. Honestly, his serious expression didn’t tell you if he had heard or not, but regardless Santa pulled back. 

“I think I’ll be able to deliver on those Christmas gifts,” Santa said, sending a wink towards Mingyu. “Now why don’t we smile for the camera? Say Merry Christmas!” 

After Korean BBQ, the next destination was Grand Central Station for the Holiday Market. 

Again, you were taken aback by just how majestic the building was. Despite how people brushed into your sides, and how many different vendors there were to go look at you were completely awed by how large Grand Central was. The room was easily five times larger than you thought it was going to be. 

A giant, beige atrium with huge windows and wreaths scattered across the walls. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t have gone into architecture?” Mingyu asked in amusement as he dragged you through the terminal. “You aren’t even paying attention to the venders.” 

You gave him a serious look. 

“I’m seriously wondering that as well.” 

It surprised you how much Mingyu was paying attention to you. He made sure not to wander away from you in the market. Noticed when you rushed away to look at something. He even made sure you didn’t miss a booth he knew that you would love. 

Mingyu had always been like this… Always known you so well.  

“I can’t believe we are actually here,” you exclaimed, your shoulder brushing against his. As soon as you made contact you shifted your body so that you were no longer touching. “This is so exciting.” 

Mingyu rolled his eyes lightly. 

“I never saw what you saw in that show,” he murmured. You ignored him and rushed over to the bar. You waved over a bartender, sliding them your ID and your card. 

“Can you open a tab? I think I would be remise to not start with the Naked Man,” you said excitedly. You nudged Mingyu. “And let’s see... A Gay Pirate or a Daddy’s Home for my friend here?” 

“Seems like a Gay Pirate sort of guy to me,” the bartender commented, a laugh left your lips, but it only made Mingyu grumble. 

“A Daddy’s Home,” he insisted. “Trust me. Under different circumstances I would be able to prove with this one alone that a Daddy’s Home suits me more.” 

Your face blazed red. 

“Naked Man, and Daddy’s Home,” you replied quickly, desperately not wanting Mingyu to elaborate on his comment. “We’ll be sitting over there.” 

You dragged Mingyu over to one of the booths, only to be shortly followed by your drinks. Both of your drinks, of course, being references to some of the ways that one of the characters, Barney, would pick-up girls. 

“Remind me again...” Mingyu said. “The Naked Man?” 

“When a date is going bad you ask to go up to their place to use the restroom- or any excuse really to get into their place. Then when you two are in separate rooms you strip naked and surprise them.” 

“And the show is claiming people will actually sleep with you after that?” 

“It has a two-thirds success rate,” you replied. Mingyu laughed incredulously.  

“And Daddy’s Home?” 

He gestured to his own drink. 

“Barney has so much rizz he can just walk up to a girl and say those two words to her, and she’ll be in his bed.” 

“No way,” Mingyu said, his body shaking with his laughter. “How could I possibly forget that?”  You leaned close to Mingyu, giving him a seductive expression. 

“Daddy’s home.” 

Mingyu laughed at your bravado and got up from the table. 

“You got me, I’ll be in your bed tonight,” he jested. “I’m going to get another drink. What should I get this time?” 

“Oh, I have the perfect drink you should get a..... Wait for it...” You paused just like Barney would in the show and then after a few silent moments you concluded. “Wait for it, the drink. It’s a drink.” 

Mingyu laughed at your antics. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back with a wait for it.” 

You nursed the drink in your hand as you looked around the somewhat familiar bar. As you sat there your phone began to go off. Your eyebrows scrunched and you raised your phone to your ear. 

“Hansol?” 

“Hey,” Hansol replied, clearly shifting the phone. “Are you and Mingyu fucking yet? Is this a good time?” 

“I know full well that you have me on Find My. You know that I’m at a bar right now.” 

Hansol laughed. 

“How’s New York?” 

“Beautiful,” you murmured. “Amazing.” 

You sighed. 

“Mingyu has been... He’s keeping my itinerary!” You exclaimed. Hansol’s confusion was heard through his voice. 

“What?” 

“Remember when we were first planning the trip?” You replied. “He kept my original plans. We went to see Beetlejuice yesterday and today we went to see Santa Claus at the Empire State Building!” 

Hansol was quiet on the other side of the line, so you sighed. 

“Yeah... I know.” 

“Do you?” Hansol asked. “Do you really know? Because it seems to me like you don’t realize just how stupid you are being.” 

“Nothing’s happening,” you insisted softly. “You’re being so dramatic. Everything has been normal. Just like we are two friends in New York City for a weekend.” 

“Yeah, nothing romantic about New York at Christmas,” Hansol agreed. “It may be fine right now but sooner or later you two are going to start getting to that point where the friendship is so comfortable it feels like your relationship all over again and then...” 

“The breakup is going to come back up,” you whispered. 

“Exactly.” 

“I don’t want to think about that right now.” You looked up and as you did Mingyu was standing there, setting his drink on the table. His eyebrows rose slightly, and you pointed at the phone, mouthing Hansol’s name. Mingyu nodded and sat down. “All I know is it’s been a good weekend. And look, I should be going.” 

“Mingyu’s back isn’t he?” Hansol asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Let me hold you for just a little longer,” Hansol said. “Dasom is going on a trip too so it’s just me for the holiday’s.” 

“What?” You asked. “What about your mom? Sofia?” 

“They’re travelling so we’re not having Christmas until the 27th.” 

“Ah gee, I’m sorry,” you said softly. “You should come here. You could hang out with Mingyu and I.” 

“I do not want to be there when whatever you and Mingyu have going on goes up in flames,” Hansol replied. “Just think of calling me a bit this weekend. Send pictures.” 

“For sure,” you agreed. “I’m sorry I wouldn’t have come if I had known.” 

“It really is okay. Talk to you tomorrow?” 

You nodded and Hansol sighed. 

“Tell Mingyu I say hi.” 

“Okay. Bye Hansol.” 

You hung up the phone, shooting Mingyu an apologetic smile. 

“Hansol’s really worried about me,” you explained softly. You let that sit and then realized what you had said. “Not really of you or anything... It’s just he’s worried I’m going to get my heart broken.” 

You noticed that it didn’t get better the more you said. 

“Why would you be the heart broken one?” Mingyu asked. “I was the one who got cheated on.” 

Your lips pressed together uncomfortably, and you tried to think of a way to change the topic but you didn’t have to. Instead Mingyu tipped his drink towards you. 

“Yn. You should catch me up on what you’ve had going on,” he encouraged. You stared at him, suspiciously you’ll admit, and it made him sigh. 

“This is your bar isn’t it?” Mingyu pointed out softly. You looked down at your drink. “Let’s have fun? Like your tv friends. Tell me what you’ve had going on!” 

At first, you just told Mingyu little things. Tried to talk more about others than your life, but that didn’t work for very long because it was Mingyu you were talking to, and he knew you. Each time he made you laugh, or reminded you of some stupid inside joke you two shared it made your heart ache a little more. You didn’t mean to drink much... You really didn’t, but how could you not drink when all you could think was that eventually this was going to end. And come December 27th, you were going to be alone all over again, with Yoon Jeonghan trying to convince you to sleep with a stranger at a bar. 

And so, it wasn’t really all that surprising, that by an hour in you were completely wasted, and while it was surprising that Mingyu would ever actually be drunk, considering the amount at which you had been watching him dunk back drinks it made sense that he was in fact drunk. 

And, considering the way the conversation had turned... You knew that you both had to have been completely wasted to be joking about the fact that you had cheated on him. 

He laughed, but you could hear your heart thudding in your ears. You waited for the blaming to start again, waited to have to fight for your life trying to convince him that you hadn’t cheated. 

In fact, the sentence was on your tongue- 

“Unless... You didn’t cheat on me,” he continued. Your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. You couldn’t let your hopes get up. It had been too long since the breakup. He had probably stopped thinking about you months ago. There was no way that he had even come close to thinking that maybe you didn’t cheat on him. 

“Mingyu what are you talking about?” You asked. 

“The weirdest thing about our break up was probably the fact that I thought I knew you,” Mingyu said. “One thing that I had always taken for granted was that I could read you. I always knew when you were lying or telling the truth.” 

You let a small smile flicker across your lips. 

“God that was so frustrating,” you agreed softly. “I couldn’t lie to you if I wanted to.” 

“So how did you hide an affair from me?” Mingyu asked. You sighed, resting your head on your hand. 

“Do we really have to talk about this?” You asked. “It’s not going to get us anywhere.” 

“Just answer the question.” 

There’s nothing to answer,” you replied. “I didn’t hide an affair because I didn’t cheat on you. I don’t even know who the guy is that I supposedly cheated on you with!” 

“He’s one of Dasom’s friends,” Mingyu replied. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Wait one of Dasom’s friends-”  “You just... Even with all the proof laid out for me it doesn’t make sense.” 

Mingyu set down his drink and the now empty glass clicked against the table. 

“Can we not talk about this?” You asked Mingyu. “I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“I know you didn’t cheat on me,” Mingyu said finally. 

You looked at him, and your eyes drifted down to his drink. You wanted to be able to blame the alcohol on his words but he had barely drank anything at all. 

You thought maybe you hadn’t drank enough so you dipped the rest of your drink into your mouth. Your nose scrunched at the burn. 

“No you don’t,” you said. 

“I do,” Mingyu reasserted. “Look... I just-” 

He interupted himself to let out a frustrated noise. 

“When I saw those texts on your phone I felt so betrayed. I thought I knew you? I had already had someone telling me that you were cheating. They just pointed out some of your behaviors and claimed it was weird so there was this seed in my brain. And then I told Soonyoung about it...” 

He hesitated and glanced at the bar like he needed another drink. 

“Texts are so definitive and so I just cut you off. Soonyoung told me that was the best idea. You could convince me it wasn’t true and we knew it was, but... I know you.” 

“You don’t know me,” you negated.  

“I do and the whole time it felt wrong, and I have been scrounging for any excuse to get in contact with you again because you would never cheat on me.” 

You felt something warm and wet slide down your cheek and you immediately reached up to wipe the liquid away. There was no way Mingyu knew what he was saying. He couldn’t possibly mean what you thought he meant. 

“I do mean it,” Mingyu insisted. “Today only reminded me that having you in my life is the best thing that ever happened to me and I was stupid to cut you out without hearing you out.” 

“You were just protecting yourself.” 

“But it’s you,” Mingyu emphasized. He reached across the table and took your hands in his. “Will you date me again?” 

“Mingyu...” 

“I know that leaving you hurt you, and I promise to never do it again,” he insisted. “In six months, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I’ve typed your number in my phone a million times. Soonyoung has taken all communication devices away from me when I was drunk countless times.” 

He squeezed your hands comfortingly. The only problem with that being that now you couldn’t stop the tears streaking down your cheeks. 

“Communication and trust are the two most important things in a relationship,” Mingyu continued. “I trust you, and I promise this time I will do nothing but communicate with you.” 

He made sure your eyes were on his for this next part. 

“I love you. Please come back to me.” 

You had to pull your hands away from Mingyu at this point because you were full on sobbing. Your hands covered your face as you rapidly wiped tears from your cheeks, only for them to immediately be streaked all over again. 

After only a few moments of your constrained gasps and hiccups you felt someone slide in beside you and muscular arms wrapped themselves around your body. You didn’t care to fight it anymore. You didn’t care what Hansol had to say about it. 

You turned into Mingyu’s body, letting yourself soak his shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to get out. One of his hands fell on your head. 

“For what?” He whispered. 

“For not being strong enough to protect you,” you mumbled. Mingyu laughed. 

“You’re the last person I need protected from.” 

When you had finally stopped crying you and Mingyu made your way back to the hotel. You were mostly quiet, your heart racing in your chest, both from the thrill of Mingyu’s confession and the uncertainty of what you really should do. 

Once you two had laid down you waited until his breathing evened to sneak out of bed and call Hansol in the hall. 

“Why the fuck are you calling me at two in the morning?” 

You completely ignored Hansol’s tone of voice. 

“You were right,” you mumbled. A surprised tone left Hansol’s side of the phone and you heard shuffling like he was sitting up in bed. 

“What happened?” 

“Mingyu confessed to me. He told me he loves me. He told me he believes me.” 

Hansol was quiet for a moment. 

“And?” 

“I believe him,” you replied softly. You heard Hansol let out a frustrated sigh. 

“I knew that this trip was only going to end one way,” he mumbled. 

“Well, is it a bad thing?” You blurted. “He loves me! I love him!” 

“But that doesn’t take away those messages on your phone.” 

You sighed. 

“But he trusts me. Text messages or not, he believes that I didn’t cheat on him.” 

“I mean if he really does feel that way, than that’s enough.” 

And there it was. The reason you called. The words you wanted to hear.  

“It’s enough,” you agreed.  

“But if he doesn’t feel that way...” Hansol started and you groaned. 

“But he does.” 

“You don’t know that for sure,” Hansol bit back. “I mean, what is going on with you two anyways? Weren’t you at a bar earlier-” 

“Well-” 

“And now, what? You are two exes, who just had an extremely romantic day in New York City at Christmas. Remembering the good old days, thinking about how Mingyu even smells the same way you remember him-” 

“He-” 

“And then you two go get drunk, high on the thought that Mingyu loves you, and what’s going to happen next?” 

You felt frustration bubbling inside your hazy brain. Because you wanted Hansol to be wrong. He was so stupid. Because Mingyu didn’t just say things. He didn’t just say he loved people. If he said it he meant it and... He had never said something drunk that he hadn’t meant to say... 

“Shut up Hansol.” 

“You know I’m right.” 

“You’re not rght Hansol, you’re wrong and you’re stupid and shut up,” you blurted out angrily. There was silence between the two of you. The silence in which you recalled just how drunk you were. Just how sad you were because you wanted everything that Mingyu had said to be true. You wanted him to be in love with you. 

“If he believes that you didn’t cheat, that’s enough,” Hansol said finally. Your fingers tightened on your phone. It was like he had hit rewind. 

“It’s enough,” you agreed firmly. 

You and Hansol were silent for a few moments, and then he sighed. 

“Did I say what you wanted? Can I go back to sleep now? Not all of us are on vacation you know.” 

A smile spread over your face even though you knew that Hansol didn’t really think it was enough. Even though you knew that it wasn’t enonugh. 

“Yeah, thanks Hansol.” 

Hansol grumbled back a you’re welcome and the connection promptly ended. You pressed your back against the wall of the hotel hallway and sighed, looking down at the carpet beneath your feet. 

Not a stain in sight. Mingyu had really done too much. 

Your heart skipped a slight beat. He had always been like that though. Spoiling you. 

It made warmth spread in your chest to think that this whole trip had been a plan to get back together for Mingyu. He wasn’t just being nice, he had planned this. Everything was done perfectly, purposefully to remind you both what it was like to be together. 

As you stood there thinking about Mingyu, the door to the hotel creaked open and Mingyu’s head popped around the corner. You stared at each other silently for a moment, a smile crossing his lips while your face reddened. 

“Hansol’s on our side now?” He asked, his hair wet from what you presumed was a shower. You stared at Mingyu for a moment, his words going over your head. You watched the water drip down his neck, and you noticed that where a shirt should be there was the collar of a fluffy white bath robe. 

You swallowed hard. 

“I thought you were a sleep,” you replied. He shrugged and pressed the hotel room door open further, and with that you caught sight of his whole body. No shirt... No pants... His white robe tied loosely around his waist barely concealing anything at all. 

He closed the distance between the two of you, his hand raising to caress your cheek. Your face burned even darker as he grew closer to you. 

“You always hated it when I kissed you right after drinking,” he mumbled. 

“Because you tasted like bad beer,” you replied, your nose wrinkling. Mingyu chuckled. “But you... You brushed your teeth.” 

Mingyu took that as all the approval he needed. He closed the distance between the two of you dragging you into a deep kiss. You felt yourself pressing closer to him as you two kissed, you raising your own hands to his cheeks to keep him as close as possible. 

God, it had been so long since you kissed someone, and you missed the feeling of needing someone’s lips on yours as much as you needed to breath. And as you two kissed your whole body began to burn. 

Mingyu walked you back a bit, pressing you into the wall. His knee settling between your legs. His hands brushed further back on your head, one of them lowering down to your neck, his thumb brushing the base of your throat as his other hand tugged lightly at your hair. 

You whimpered into Mingyu’s mouth involuntarily and you shifted your own hands to Mingyu’s wet hair. It was so slick, and he was so warm and this hallway was so cold. 

Mingyu’s hand began to make its way down your body, sliding down your sides, growing closer to a spot in which you really wanted Mingyu to touch you. 

And of course, with the worst timing ever that was when you heard the door click behind Mingyu. You, regrettably, pulled away from him. 

“Mingyu, did you bring out a key?” You asked. Mingyu’s eyebrows rose. 

“You didn’t?” 

“I left the door cracked!” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh and his warmth escaped you. 

“I’ll go downstairs and get a spare key from the front counter.” 

You nodded. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

You thought about standing in the hall alone for a minute. 

“I’ll come with you.” 

When the two of you got back into the room, your body was still burning now partly with jealousy because the lady at the desk was about as distracted by your wet barely clothed ex-boyfriend as you were. And that had made you drag him back to your room, and that had meant Mingyu’s hand was on the back of your neck the entire rest of the trip back up. 

But the second that door was closed, and you stared at Mingyu with wide kiss me, fuck me eyes, he was groaning and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Y/n, you need to go to sleep,” he said softly. Your disappointment was clearly expressed on your face. He groaned again. 

“You don’t even know how badly I want to...” He let out a small laugh, his eyes flickering across your body. “But not like this... Not drunk. Not exes. Not without knowing that you want me too... So you need to go to sleep.” 

You resisted the urge to scream because when did men get so smart and emotionally intelligent. You nodded. 

“I’m going to take a shower first.” 

And when you got back out, Mingyu was already pretending to sleep, a wall of pillows piled in the middle of the bed. 

- 

Despite going to sleep so late, you and Mingyu were still up early enough to go to Pershing Café, and get some of the best, most fluffy pancakes that you had ever had in your life. After eating, Mingyu gidily asked you if you remembered what was next on the itinerary- you didn’t. 

At least you didn’t until the two of you were holding pairs of ice skates. 

This trip hadn’t felt real when you had planned it. Sure you had written up the perfect itinerary, meeting Santa Claus and going to a tv show bar, but regardless it had never really felt real. So standing with Mingyu in the center of Rockefeller Square? 

Well, you briefly forgot how to breath. 

Mingyu was acting so casually about everything, as if the Christmas tree that loomed over the square wasn’t the biggest you had ever seen, and as if ice skating at Rockefeller Square wasn’t something that you had dreamed about doing. As if, he hadn’t drunkenly confessed he still loved you the night before. As if you hadn’t almost let him fuck you. 

“Come on,” he said, laughing at your dazzlement. “If you never get your skates on, we’ll never get on the ice.” 

You nodded and sat down next to him, but you weren’t able to do much because as soon as you were down Mingyu was on his knees in front of you.  

If when you had woken up this morning you had been under the impression that your conversation at the bar hadn’t happened, that thought was nearly immediately banished from your mind, because everything about the way that Mingyu was treating you today, screamed that he was trying to win you back. 

Your face blazed in embarrassment. 

“Mingyu,” you hissed. “What are you doing?” 

“Helping you put your skates on,” Mingyu replied innocently. Before you could protest more he was slipping your shoes off, and replacing them with the clunky ice skates. 

His indifference to the situation didn’t make you any less embarrassed, and the girls looking over and cooing in envy at the sight of the two of you did make you more embarrassed. 

“Mingyu, I’m not a princess,” you protested, but you let him tie the shoes regardless because who were you to try and convince Kim Mingyu not to do something when he was determined. Mingyu just smiled up at you, as if he could read your thoughts. 

“But I can still treat you like one.” 

He stood up and held out his hand to you. 

“Come on, you’re good at ice skating, right?” 

You and Mingyu had never been on an ice-skating date before, and it wasn’t because you were afraid of the cold or the ice. It was because you knew that if Mingyu went down, you were going down too. You had no clue whether Mingyu would be good at ice skating or not. He could be amazing at it but he could also be absolutely terrible and either way you wouldn’t bat your eye. 

You had sort of secretly figured you would be better than him at it. 

You had sort of secretly figured wrong. 

Mingyu insisted on holding your hand. Of course, he did, considering all the other couples were doing so and the part of you that wanted to remind him that you two weren’t together anymore (thanks to him) couldn’t say it when you saw the look in his eyes.  

And thank god he did end up quietly convincing you to hold his hand because you couldn’t stay upright to save your life. While you would have fallen if Mingyu went down, Mingyu was as stable as a wall as you tumbled to the ground. He just laughed, slowed to a stop, peeked down at you: “Are you okay?” And lifted you up off the ground like it was nothing. 

It was humiliating, really, how much time you were spending sitting on the ice versus skating on it, but seeing Mingyu’s radiant smile and hearing his infectious laugh every time you fell made you not even care about the bruises you would surely have later. And it made your heart yearn because the thought that this might be one of the last times you ever hold Mingyu’s hand hurt worse than any fall. 

“Maybe we should call it a day,” Mingyu said after about an hour. You had gotten a bit more control of your balance at this point and you were skating just as good as the five-year-old that had just gotten here. 

“Tired of picking me up?” You managed to get out in a teasing tone because now your arms, your heart, and your ego had been bruised in one short hour. 

“No,” Mingyu laughed. “Your nose is just red from the cold, and if I remember right the next thing on our itinerary is hot chocolate.” 

- 

“This, is a marshmallow shop.” 

“A marshmallow shop with some of the best hot chocolate in New York City,” you replied pointedly. You looked along the wall at all the bags of the different types of marshmallows. You couldn’t help the way that you were practically drooling. Squish Marshmallows had a variety of different marshmallow flavors: Rocky Road, peanut butter and jelly, tea and scones. 

“What could tea and scones even taste like?” You asked excitedly. Mingyu seemed just as intrigued as you did. 

“We can’t just get hot chocolate here,” Mingyu said, practically bouncing as he spoke. A complete 360 from his initial reaction upon seeing the store. “I never knew that I needed cookie dough marshmallows in my life, but now I know I do.” 

You laughed as Mingyu led you up to the counter, remembering what it was like to have Kim Mingyu match your energy.  

First ordering two cups of hot chocolate, both with your choice of marshmallow, and then ordering a variety of the different flavors for you two to try. You had to stop him after back tracking to get more than two of each flavor: 

“But what if we like them all so much we want more?” 

“Think about the calories Mingyu.” 

“What is the point of vacation if I’m thinking about calories?”  

“So, how long have you been planning this?” You asked softly. “Like, really.” 

“Thinking of what? Getting you back?” You didn’t respond so he mulled over what you had asked. “I think I was upset for about a month before I started to think about you. Like really think about you.” 

You two wandered around the Union Square Holiday Market, him stopping at a booth with little yarn bracelets. 

“I thought about what our relationship used to be like. Like I remembered you letting me come over after you got out of classes because I hadn’t gotten to see you all day. I remembered that you let me keep you up until five even thought you had an eight am.” 

Mingyu picked up one of the bracelets up, showing it to you: “Is this still your favorite color?”  

Your heart was pounding in your throat so hard that you couldn’t even open your mouth to answer. You just nodded. Mingyu smiled down at the bracelet, nodding slowly. 

“Real,” he whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. Before you could even realize he was doing it- Mingyu was buying the bracelet, and handing it straight to you. 

“So I already missed you and that was when I got an email reminder that I had booked this trip. And that is when I started to plan this.” 

Of course. 

“Months,” you mumbled softly, your fingers picking at the bracelet Mingyu had just given you. The bracelet that had been next to so many in a similar shade of the one in your hand. A bracelet that Mingyu had skimmed over a few times while he looked at the bracelets before finally setting on that one, that one perfect one. Because this wasn’t just your favorite color, it was near perfect to the exact shade down to the color code that you liked. 

How could he have remembered something like that about you? 

“Mingyu do you know how crazy it is to have been planning to convince me to go on a trip to New York city with you before... I don’t know, asking me to grab coffee with you and talk through our break up?” 

The question irritated Mingyu. 

“What do you expect? Me to sit you down in some coffee shop that will make me want to bang my fist into the wall and ask you if you cheated on me?” He asked you. 

“Well what do you expect?” You shot back at him. “What conversation do you think we will have in New York City that we wouldn’t have in that stupid coffee shop?” 

Mingyu’s nostrils flared a little bit. 

“Did you cheat on me?” He asked you. 

“No,” you pressed. You two were quiet before finally Mingyu pointed at a stand behind you, adorned in fancy lanterns, the green roof only a bit taller than him. 

“And do we have a lantern stand at your coffee shop?” He asked you. He pointed at the booth next to it. “Or a caricature stand?” 

Your eyes narrowed at Mingyu. 

“How do two people fight in New York City y/n?” 

You wanted to point out that technically, this was a fight. That no amount of christmas lights or kids walking past the two of you would make this not a fight.  

“New York City doesn’t make me love you again,” you said softly. A flash of hurt went through Mingyu’s eyes. 

“But New York City can make you fall back in love with me,” Mingyu replied. Your fingers twitched at your sides because it was hard enough to be in love with Mingyu and have to pretend you weren’t because this was all so stupid. The kind of stupid that only you and Mingyu could possibly have gotten caught up in. 

But instead, you leaned into what Mingyu had been trying to say earlier. 

“Are those... Are those not the most beautiful wooden ornaments you have ever seen?” You asked him, pointing behind him. When Mingyu didn’t respond, you pressed the issue. “No, Mingyu, these are so beautiful I think actually that your mom would love one.” 

The atmosphere between the two of you quickly evolved back into what it had been before, and that was perfect and just in time for the next item on your docket. 

“Street dogs!” You said excitedly rushing up to the carnival-esque hot dog stand on the side of the road. You bounced at the edge of the stand, waiting patiently for Mingyu to join you at your side, your eyes focused on the red and yellow sinage before you.  

“Nathan’s famous,” you said excitedly. “This is the next thing on the list right?” 

“Right you are,” he replied pointedly. “And after this George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker. Balcony seats.” 

You gasped, and you didn’t know why you were even surprised at this point. You slapped your hand against his chest. 

“That’s too expensive,” you insisted. 

“I figured we could spare a buck or two with how much money we’re spending on our meal before hand,” he replied, his tone high with jest. 

“You know that you’re crazy for this right?” You asked Mingyu.  He smiled down at you, still completely unbeknowst of the sullen mood that had suddenly overcome you. “I’m serious.” 

You shifted your wait and gestured, frustratedly at the New York City streets as if they had done something to offend you. 

“You can fool me with the other things. The plane ticket, the hotel room, even the broadway tickets- Which by the way I know you can easily just resale,” you stated pointedly. “But tickets to the Nutcracker?” 

“I’m not trying to hide anymore the fact that I made this trip happen,” Mingyu said, and his tone was still airy while yours was drowning in your own frustrations. “And whether or not my very brillant plan works, I will not regret the money I spend on this trip.” Your faced was painted in dismay. “And I will not regret the money I spend on these hot dogs.” 

“We are not dating,” you said back insistently. 

Frustration flickered across Mingyu’s face, while he was trying so hard not to fight. 

“Y/n, it’s just ballet tickets.” 

“You shouldn’t be spending money on the girl who cheated on you,” you stated bluntly. And again, Mingyu’s expression soured. 

“Y/n, don’t-” 

Someone suddenly bumped into Mingyu, causing him to inturn bump into you. His hands immediately went to your shoulders to help settle you. You two looked over at the person that had bumped into you two and it was curiously enough a Santa. He gave you an apologetic expression. 

“I’m so sorry to bump into you two,” he said softly. He let out a small but hearty laugh. “But it seems that you two don’t mind too much.” 

He sighed, sounding a bit exhausted. 

“Young love...” 

“Oh it’s not-” 

“But, oh, you won’t hear me complaining that much,” he continued, ignoring your protests. “Even though Mrs. Claus and I have our ups and downs sometimes even after all these years she still makes me feel like a teenager all over again.” 

He laughed again shaking his head. 

Neither you or Mingyu knew what to say but you didn’t have to because after only a few moments you heard the sound of christmas beels ringing. He reached down and pulled out a pocket watch. He tutted when he saw the time. 

“I’m always late,” he said with a shake of his head. Then his eyebrows furrowed and he gestured to the two of you. “And don’t you two have a ballet to catch?” 

Mingyu suddenly snapped out of his trance. 

“Oh! He’s right, we’re going to be late,” He said. He rushed over to the hot dog stand that lucky had no line nad quickly bought to hot dogs for the two of you. He shoved one into your handd. 

“Come on, we’ve got to go.” 

- 

You couldn’t be mad at Mingyu for the amount of money he had spent on you for too long, because when you started crying during the Nutcracker and you reached over to grab Mingyu’s hand and saw that he was actually crying harder than you were you remembered one of Mingyu’s finer points. 

He was one of the most caring people that you had ever met. Mingyu never let a single person around him feel uncared for, unless they were an absolutely horrrible person. He was able to make connections with anyone and everyone. The kind of person who saw someone crying on a sidewalk, would stop to talk to them, and would actually be able to comfort said person. 

When you two had first met that had been the reason you didn’t realize at first he liked you. Because the whining for attention, the offers to carry your things, the middle of the night texts to come over and play video games and actually playing video games screamed not only just friends in your face but also treats everyone this way. 

But then he asked you out and you realized that despite the fact he was nice to everyone, that niceness was different when it came to you. So at first, maybe the first few months with Mingyu you were jealous. Jealous of every girl that he talked to. Even jealous of his friends. 

And then it hit you that there was something different about you. Something that made you stand apart to Mingyu from all the other people. 

And even though you couldn’t see it, that was enough for you. 

And it had always been enough for you. 

And despite everything that thing that Mingyu saw that set you apart from others had made him continue to think about you even after he thought you had cheated on him. And it had made him think through what had happened. And it had made him doubt. And that was enough for you. 

You two were walking through the Dyker Heights with him, your shoulders brushing as you looked at the extravagant colorful lights decorating the houses. Mingyu kept letting your fingers brush, and while he pretended to be looking at the lights you knew that the only thing on his mind was you. 

You were a bit tired of pretending. 

You finally intertwined your hands together, feeling the giant man perk up at the touch. You sighed softly. 

“To be honest, I want to be with you,” you whispered. Mingyu’s fingers tigethened in your grasp. 

“Really?” He asked you softly. You looked back over at him, his face illuminated in red and blue lights. 

“Of course really,” you mumbled softly. You let out a small laugh, but there was pain concealed in it. “I thought you knew me.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh with you. 

“I do know you,” he said. “Y/n, did you cheat on me?” 

“No,” you insisted quickly. “I didn’t cheat on you! I didn’t even think about cheating on you. I don’t even know who the guy is.” 

Mingyu stared at you, seeming to note the desperation in your voice. 

“I told you already he’s Dasom’s friend,” he replied slwoly. 

“She’s never even mentioned him before!” You blurted back, the frustration rising. “Surely when I was balling my eyes out about the break up and about how I didn’t even know who that guy was she would have thought to mention that it was her friend.” 

Mingyu stared at you, his face molding into one of confusion. 

“What did you say?” 

You didn’t know what he was confused about. 

“That I was crying over our break up?” 

He shook his head, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“No, no not that. You said Dasom was there when you were crying about your break up.” 

Your frustration simmered. 

“Well, yeah? She’s my friend.” 

“No she’s not,” Mingyu said bluntly. Your face contorted more. 

“What the fuck Mingyu? Yes, she is? You got Soonyoung in the break up and I got Dasom and Hansol,” you replied slowly. Mingyu let out a small laugh. 

“No, I got Soonyoung and Dasom in the breakup,” he replied. 

Jingle bells was playing in the distant background as you tried to process what Mingyu was saying. 

“You’re still friends with Dasom?” You asked. 

“Dasom was the one who told me that you were cheating on me,” he said insistently. Despite the fact that you two were clearly talking about something serious. You know the reason that you two broke up, Mingyu was now fully laughing now. You were still confused, and you furrowed your nose, turning your head a bit. 

“Mingyu I don’t understand.” 

“Dasom made everything up.” 

Before you could ask him what he was trying to get at, Mingyu was pulling out his phone. His phone started to ring, and he put it on speaker phone. When a small hello rang out- Dasom, Mingyu put a single to his lips. 

“Dasom, you were right.” 

As soon as Mingyu started to talk his joyous expression dropped.  

“Why don’t I listen to you more? You told me that y/n cheated on me back then. You told me that cheaters never change. You told me that I would get hurt all I over again but I still came to New York and-” 

He interrupted himself with a very convincing choked sob, that made you really think he was crying. You worriedly made eye contact with him, and at that he gave you the biggest, most radiant smile, you had seen on his face in a while. 

He was a psycopath. 

“Mingyu, I’m so sorry,” Dasom’s voice came sympathetically, and you noticed that with it her voice was rising. “It’s so hard to accept and notice when you are being used. But it’s over now then, yeah? You can finally move on.” 

“What is it that you always say to me?” Mingyu asked, his voice sounding broken. “That promise you always say?” 

“I’ll pick up the pieces that y/n broke,” Dasom said immediately, not even pausing in thought. “I’ll always be there for you Mingyu. I love you, and I can and will treat you the way that you deserve to be treated.” 

Again that smile broke out on Mingyu’s face. He gestured to his phone as if something huge had been revealed. 

“I have to go Dasom,” Mingyu said, his voice still sounding completely wrecked. “I just... I just can’t believe I let y/n break my heart again.” 

“Take all the time you need Mingyu.” 

Mingyu clicked to end the call, and then without even letting you process what the fuck just happened, he was grabbing your phone from you, unlocking it because you had never changed the password, and was dialing Dasom’s number. 

As the phone began to ring he shoved it back in your hand. 

“You’re heart broken, you don’t understand why I don’t trust you, and you need support from your friend,” he explained quickly. And then Dasom was picking up the call. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong? You don’t usually call me?” 

You didn’t give yourself time to think. You just did the one thing that you had wished Mingyu did six months ago, and blindly trusted him. 

“Dasom, I don’t understand. He still thinks... He still thinks that I cheated on him,” you said, your voice hushed. You made sure to take appropriate pauses, making it sound like you were having trouble speaking. 

“Y/n... Hansol and I told you that this trip would only end badly.” 

“But I don’t understand!” You exclaimed, your voice rising. “He told me all that time ago that he loved me, and then he doesn’t even believe that I don’t even know who the guy is I was supposed to be cheating on!” 

Mingyu was looking at you, very seriously, paying attention to every word. 

“Who even is that person?” 

“I don’t know y/n. We won’t ever know now will we? You both know now surely. You’re better off without one another.” 

And then, finally what Mingyu had been trying to insinuate. The thing that he had already somehow figured out, crashed into you like a train. Your heart skipped a beat, and for just a second the world slowed. 

And you last your chance at an Oscar. 

“Oh my god... You broke us up.” 

The phone call was silent for a few moments, and then Dasom spoke. Her voice scarily even. 

“What?” 

“You broke us up,” you said again, your voice rising. “The only person who could have had access to my phone other than Mingyu or Hansol was you. You put those texts on my phone. You played it out to be your friend to make your plan more convincing. You pretended to be both of our friends just so that you could fucking get Mingyu.” 

There was silence on the call as your brain continued to rush to catch up with your thoughts. 

“Because you’re in love with him.” 

More silence, and you looked up at Mingyu, not even realizing tears were streaming down your face. 

“You two are together... Aren’t you?” Dasom asked. 

“I thought we were friends,” you said, and you didn’t have to pretend that you were heart broken this time. You really were. 

“I saw Mingyu first y/n,” Dasom blurted with an anger that you didn’t even know that she had. “He loves you so much he was fucking blind. That’s not fair! It should have been me. I had to feed him so many lies, and convince Soonyoung that complete no contact was better just so that I could keep Mingyu from realizing the truth.” 

Her voice was shaking even over the phone. 

“But you two are both so fucking stupid. Who goes on a Christmas weekend trip to New York City with their fucking ex?” 

“Dasom-” Mingyu said, taking your phone from your hand. He turned the phone off speaker and turned away from you, his voice dropping a few octaves, so that you couldn’t hear what he said. And then, after about a minute of hushed conversation, your phone was being slid back into your hand. 

Tears streamed down your face, and Mingyu leaned forward, his thumbs brushing the tears off of your face. 

“Y/n...” He let you cry there. Brushing the tears off of your cheeks before they could drip all the way down your chin. Your body shook as you tried to comprehend the emotions you were feeling. 

The fact that Dasom had been lying to you for so long made you so completely upset. The fact that she was willing to manipulate you because of unrequited love hurt even worse. But then, you were in New York City at Christmas with the love of your life, and he had been so hard to manipulate that after six months her lies no longer worked. 

The tears slowly stopped streaming and Mingyu’s hands took your face in his. He leaned close to you, his nose brushing yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have trusted you. I should have completely and fully trusted you.” 

You didn’t say that you couldn’t have expected that from him. You didn’t tell him that you were both the victims really. Instead, your ears zoned in on the song playing in the distance. 

I really can’t stay... Baby, it’s cold outside 

A laugh erupted through your body. 

“This song is so creepy Mingyu,” you said. His lips flickered into a smile and he seemed to focus on the faint lyrics as well. 

“This evening has been,” he sang along with the words, taking your hands in his. “So very nice.” 

You laughed at him, but you let him start to drag you into a small little dance on the sidewalk. As you two drifted together, a few other couples began to do the same thing as you. Each of them pulling their partner close into a slow dance along with the melody of a frankly predatory song. 

And yet, as you looked up at Mingyu, all you could think about was how lucky you were for this trip. 

“Mingyu,” you said softly, your lips pulling up at the corners. “I don’t know if this is still on the table but if you wanted to go out again-” 

Mingyu interrupted you before you could finish, dragging you into a passionate kiss. You laughed against his lips, slapping his chest. 

“I was about to say that I don’t want to date you-“ 

Another kiss, and you were still laughing and pushing away from him. 

“I’m serious Mingyu I think we’re much better at being exe-“ 

He interrupted you with another kiss, and once he had properly stolen the breath from your lungs he was speaking. 

“Y/n we are awful at being exes,” he said lightly. “Exes don’t spend Christmas together in New York City.” 

You couldn’t hide the stupid gummy smile on your lips, and you couldn’t help nod along with him. 

“We truly are awful exes,” you agreed. “So I’m super glad that we are together again-” 

Mingyu smiled so hard you thought his face was gonna break. 

“We are together again,” he said gummily. “For our first date… Have you ever heard of a New York City Christmas Miracle Pop-up bar?” 

- 

Everything was perfect. 

As terrifying as it was to say so. The Miracle Pop-up bar was just as beautiful as Dyker Heights had been. The christmas lights were practically blinding, and the walls of the makeshift bar were lined in tinsel. When you looked up along with sparkling white snowflakes there were faux wrapped presents hanging from the ceiling. 

In the past you had wondered what kinds of lonely people went to a bar on Christmas Eve. But this Christmas eve? Your shoulder brushing Mingyu’s as he played pool against a different couple one from Texas, you understood that in New York City? A bar on Christmas Eve was just the place to be. 

When Mingyu had lost his pool game and needed comforting you two had found a somewhat quiet spot in the bustling bar and spent hours just catching up. 

You told Mingyu everything you had missed, all the people that you had met that you couldn’t wait for him to see. All the things that had happened you were sad he missed. All the work gossip about your coworkers that he still remembered every detail about. 

And by the time that you two were leaving the bar and you two were walking down the street, you didn’t think things could get any better. 

“Y/n it’s snowing.” 

Before you could stop him Mingyu had taken off down the sidewalk. He slipped a little on the exact thing he was excited about but he regained his balance almost immediately and then made his way into what looked to be a park. 

You laughed and chased after him- A bit more careful than he was though. You slipped anyways when you got into the snow-covered grass, and fell into a small pile with an audible oof. 

You were thinking that surely your heroic, white knight, boyfriend who you hadn’t really been around in six months would come running to your rescue but instead a cold pack of snow hit your face. You let out an astonished laugh, looking over at Mingyu. 

“Hey-” 

“Merry Christmas!” He called out, as if he hadn’t just thrown snow in your face. You scrambled to your feet, scooping up some snow in your own hands.  

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” you bit back. Mingyu must have seen the determination spread over your face and realized that he had messed up. He started to try to barter for his dry clothes but just as he started to talk a snow ball was hitting his face and it was over for you two. 

You were sure as the two of you made your way into the hotel, jackets wet and half off that all the attendants thought that you two were drunk, but as you two burst into your hotel room, absolutely freezing from the cold, you knew that there wasn’t a drop of alochol in your system. 

And remembering what Mingyu had said to you the night before you were glad that the two of you hadn’t drank at the bar. 

As soon as the hotel room door clicked behind you, you were being shoved against it. Mingyu’s lips on your lips, and his hands pressing your wet clothes off. You raised your hands to his head, pulling at his strands of hair as he tried to get your clothes off. 

“Y/n you’re so warm,” he mumbled against you, his head dipping to kiss the nape of your neck. You shivered. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you hadn’t dragged me into-” As you spoke Mingyu’s fingers dipped into your pants, and without a second thought he pushed two fingers deep into you. “-The snow.” 

“No... You’re always this warm,” he said, his tone hushed. “Especially when I have my hands on you.” 

A whimper ripped through your body, and your fingers gripped desperately at Mingyu’s shoulders. 

“Oh Mingyu, fu-”  

“Where you with anyone?” Mingyu asked you softly, his expression zereoed in on you. You could barely think enough to answer because no you had not and it had been so long since anyone had touched you but yourself that you had forgotten how good it felt. 

And Mingyu wasn’t making it easier to answer. His fingers began to slowly push in and out of your pussy which had been soaked way before he had gotten you into this hotel room, but now it was to the point that you were almost uncomfortable. You wiggled under his grasp, trying to remember how to think or breathe but all you were thinking about was if Mingyu’s cock was as big as you remembered... 

Mingyu suddenly raised a hand to your chin, and he squeezed your face there between his fingers, forcing your face to look at his. 

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he said, his voice urging you to listen to what he was saying. Something about his words made that aching for his touch even worse. 

“I can’t talk right now,” you managed to get out. Mingyu didn’t stop slowly easing his fingers in and out of you. Not teasing you. No... He was stretching you out. BUt he was taking his time with it. 

You did not want him to. 

You began to desperately push at his shirt, trying to push it off his body. But when you realized you couldn’t get it off with his hand in your pants, you were trying to get his pants off instead. 

“I need you so badly Mingyu, I need you so bad.” 

Your words were a desperate whine at the tip of your tongue, and it made Mingyu laugh at you. 

“It’s been that long?” He asked you teasingly. You gave him a very serious look. 

“Six months is too long,” you said bluntly. His expression sombered a bit and he nodded. 

“Six months is too long,” he agreed. 

Without telling each other to, you both suddenly separated, began to rip off one another’s clothes. You two were, for once, almost as in sync as you two had been when you were dating. When you were struggling to get off your shirt, Mingyu stopped to help you rip it off. He paused to press a kiss to you and then immediately he had pulled away so that you could rip his shirt off, before the two of you were finally naked. 

Mingyu paused once his clothes were off, and your clothes were off. He was staring at you, with the look of someone who was so in love with you he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

But you didn’t need someone to look at you like he was in love with you right now. You needed someone to look at you like they needed to be inside of you. You pushed Mingyu back onto the bad, climbing into his lap as soon as he was there. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your lips against Mingyu’s in a desperate air sucking kiss. Mingyu happily let himself be dragged into it, and as you kissed him, his hands found your ass. 

“I wonder what all has changed in the last six months...” He whispered against your lips. You mostly ignored him in favor of grinding yourself down on his cock. Wanting it inside of you so badly you could scream. “Are you still into this?” 

His hand suddenly came down on your ass. You yelped, but it turned into a whimper that had your forehead pressing to Mingyu’s as you tried to keep yourself from sliding him into you yourself. 

That was answer enough for him. 

“Oh you are.” 

His fingers slid a bit, and slipped back inside of you. You whined at the stretch of his fingers because this time there were three. 

You rolled your hips down on Mingyu’s fingers, trying to force them deeper into you. Mingyu laughed. 

“Y/n, you’ve never been so desperate for cock,” he teased you lightly. Before you could respond his head had dipped and he had nipped a spot on you that had always been particularly sensitive. You slammed your hand over your mouth, letting out a sob of desperation. 

“And I see that I still remember that about you,” he mumbled softly. You wanted to hit him because now wasn’t a time for experimenting on what he remembered you liked and if you still liked it, but instead you pulled your hand away from your mouth and leaned back. 

“Mingyu, please, please, please,” you begged. “Cock, I need your cock.” 

You reached down between the two of you, taking his cock in your hand. You had been dripping all over it, so once your hand was on it your fingers were sliding across its length with ease. You tipped it up a bit, and it hit your clit. 

Your forehead hit Mingyu’s. 

“Oh god, Gyu I need it now.” 

Mingyu’s fingers slipped out of you. 

“Whatever you need baby.” 

You couldn’t have lined yourself up with his cock faster. You started to push yourself down on him fast- But you quickly slowed down your pace because despite the three fingers inside of you, it was still a bit of a stretch. 

As soon as the tip of his cock was inside of you however, you had leaned forward, catching his lips so that you could hide your pathetic whines. But while the kiss did contain your whines and moans to a minimum, they did not conceal how badly you felt like you needed Mingyu right now. 

Because as you kissed him and lowered yourself down on his cock, your hands were all over his chest and his neck and his face, and in his hair, drowning him in a kiss that was so intense whenever you two had a chance to breath, you were gasping for air. 

And you didn’t slow down when you had gotten all the way down on his cock. In fact, when you started to fuck yourself on Mingyu’s cock you only started to sound more desperate. 

Your whine’s became nearly indistinguishable to moans, and your pace was inconsistent. Anytime that you felt like you just couldn’t fuck yourself on his cock anymore you were rolling your hips down on him, feeling his cock twitch inside of you, hearing his own whines escape his lips. 

“Y/n, if you keep this up-” His voice was broken. “I’m going to do something inside of you that I really shouldn’t do.” 

One of his hands tightened on your hips to slow you down, but you deterred that by grabbing both of his cheeks in your hands. You probably sounded a bit crazy when you blurted out: “Do it.” 

But it made a whimper escape Mingyu’s lips that made you feel as crazy as you sounded. 

“Do it Mingyu, fucking come inside of me, please. It’s been six months since I was even touched like this. I need it-” 

You interrupted yourself because you could feel Mingyu’s cock twitching inside of you and you knew that you had said enough. Your lips collided with Mingyu’s again, but his orgasm was ripping through him so intensely that he couldn’t even focus on that. So you just bit at his bottom lip, forcing yourself to keep fucking him as his cock spurted cum deep inside of your pussy. 

Your fingers tugged at the roots of his hair as your orgasm began to approach, but before you could hit it. Mingyu’s hands were stilling you. You cried out in desperation at the sudden stop, but before you could complain you were being flipped. 

Your back hit the bed, and Mingyu’s hands were on your hips again, pulling you close to him sharply. 

“I remember that you like this.” 

To be fully honest, he could have done anything to you and you would have liked it. But Mingyu pressed his hand down on your stomach and fucked you so hard that you were coming under him in mere seconds. 

Even if you had wanted to keep yourself together, you couldn’t have. You were making grabby hands at him as you came underneath him, so loud that you thought you would get complaints- Did people even make noise complaints in hotels? But Mingyu didn’t kiss you again until you had stopped shaking underneath of him. 

He stilled himself, burying his cock deep inside of you as he came all over again. As soon as Mingyu was close enough that you could shove him down onto you, you were. You two became a mess as you continued to kiss him like your life depended on it, and that kissin did not make the burning in the pit of your stomach go away. 

You flipped yourself back ontop of Mingyu, taking in the blissed expression on his face. 

“We’re going to make up for six months in one night,” you said suddenly, your hands pressing down on his chest so that he was still under you. Mingyu gave you a wide-eyed smile. 

“Whatever you say.” 

- 

When you woke up the next morning Mingyu wasn’t there. It felt like it had felt every single day for the last six months for about two seconds. And then Mingyu was leaving the bathroom, fully naked with a towel drying his hair like he was the main male lead. 

When he saw you looking his smile grew. 

“Oh sorry, did you want to take a shower with me.” 

Your face burned at the implication, and you looked over at the time on the clock on the nightstand. You squinted. 

“Where is breakfast today?” You asked him softly. He began to rummage through his luggage. 

“Here,” he replied. You heard him getting his clothes together, and you resisted the urge to look at him because it meant that you were going to want to stop him from putting those clothes on. 

“Then we don’t have a lot of time left,” you said with a soft groan. You let your head hit the pillow again. “Breakfast at hotels are too early.” 

Your eyes fluttered open in time to see Mingyu leaning down to kiss you. You couldn’t help the way you let yourself be physically pulled out of bed, chasing after his lips even as he pulled away. 

“If I could make breakfast stay open longer for you,” Mingyu promised lightly. 

“Even if you could,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “We have a schedule to keep?” 

“That we do.” 

Even though breakfast at a fancy hotel meant you weren’t the ones making your own waffles, they didn’t taste quite as good as the breakfast’s that you two had been having. Not that it really mattered. It was still breakfast. An amazing breakfast. With every food group, and Mingyu was picking food off of your plate, and it was enough to remind you of sleepovers in the past. 

And it made you unbelivably happy. 

After breakfast you two bundled back up, Mingyu wrapping your scarf around your neck as you shimmied in your shoes. And then you two were checking off just another one of your New York City wishlist boxes. 

Central Park. Central Park, covered in fluffy, white snow. 

It sounded a bit cheesy, but looking around at the ice sparkling on the tree limbs it reminded you of Narnia. With the old fashioned lightposts, and the pure emptiness of it all. Other than the random other couple, it was really just you and Mingyu there walking through the snow. Talking about good times, remembering the good times. 

“Mingyu, I can’t... I can’t emphasis enough how perfect this trip was,” you said softly. “I mean, even when we were planning it, this was a dream trip. The perfect trip. Everything down to the second.” 

Mingyu nodded slowly. 

“You did an amazing job planning it,” he agreed. You sighed. 

“But this trip would have been nothing without you,” you insisted. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “You mean everything to me.” 

Mingyu nodded slowly, his other hand fidgeting around in his pocket. 

“You mean it?” He asked you softly. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit. 

“Of course I do,” you said softly. 

“But do you mean it,” Mingyu asked again. “Outside of this. Christmas, and New York, and the memories of what we used to have. Can you really actually, honestly see a future with me.” 

You thought about your relationships prior to Mingyu’s, and you thought about what it had been like to be with Mingyu. Sure when you broke up with people before you had been sad, and you had been wanting them back, but yif you thought about it right now. If you put all those people back in a room together and they all told you that they were in love with you and that you wanted them back there was only one person that you could really imagine saying yes to. 

“I’ve always been able to see a future with you,” you said honestly. Mingyu’s lips flickered into a small smile. “But what about you Mingyu? You thought I cheated on you, how do you know those feelings aren’t ever going to come back?” 

Mingyu nodded slowly at your question, his eyes very briefly trailing away from yours. 

“Because it’s you,” he said. “Outside of New York, and Christmas, and missing you the person that I have wanted to spend my life with has always been you. Did you know that? Do you know how long I have known that I wanted to be with only you for the rest of my life?” 

You shook your head blankly. 

“Since Hansol first introduced the two of us,” Mingyu said. “I don’t know... I know it’s stupid to believe in love at first sight-” 

You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit because of course he would say something dumb like this, and of course you knew that he meant it to his core, and of course it made your heart skip a beat. 

“But I think that the first time I saw you I knew that you were the one that I wanted to be with.” 

Mingyu leaned down to you, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your freezing nose. You smiled up at him, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. 

“Mingyu-” 

“Hey, look at that,” Mingyu interrupted. He pointed over your shoulder and you looked towards where he had pointed, wondering what was so important to him that he interrupted your moment. You stared into Central Park. At the snow, at the trees... You didn’t see anything. 

“Mingyu, what am I supposed to be looking for?” You asked him, a laugh in your voice because of course Kim Mingyu would have seen something tiny in Central Park that would completely distract him from the moment that you two were having. 

“Oh, nothing over there.” 

Your confusion grew, and you turned around and the sight before you made your heart promptly stop. For one... Two... Three... 

“Oh my god.” 

Mingyu was on one knee in the snow, his gloves discarded next to him in the snow so that his hands were out. He had a small box in his hands, open, showing off what could only be described as your dream ring. 

You took a step back, your hand covering your mouth. 

“Mingyu-” 

“Y/n I love you,” Mingyu interrupted, his eyes red as he looked up at you. “I’m sorry for everything these last six months, but I know now and have always known that no matter what I want you to be the person I spend the rest of my life with.” 

He nervously glanced down at the ring in his hand. 

“So much so that I bought this ring shortly after we started dating,” he said, a twinge of embarrassment in his voice. “And so much so that I never returned it. Even after we broke up.” 

His eyes flickered back up to yours, and he shrugged a little. 

“Six months is a really long time, y/n, and I never ever want to be apart from you for that long again.” He laughed. “So, if you could make me the happiest man-” 

You interrupted him before he could say the corniest most overdone sentence in the book. 

“Yes,” you blurted, surging forward so that you could wrap your arms around Mingyu. “Yes, okay, I’ll marry you.”  

You were laughing as your knees hit the snow, and as you grabbed Mingyu’s face and kissed him. And as he tried to take your gloves off of your hand so that he could slide the ring he had gotten you onto it. 

“This trip-” You asked hushedly, watching the ring slide onto your finger. 

“Was always meant to be the one that ended with you having a ring on your finger,” he said softly. He wrapped his hands around yours. “I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.” 

He was laughing. 

“But you knew I wouldn’t,” you whispered back. He nodded. 

“I knew you wouldn’t,” he agreed. He leaned in again, to kiss you and you let him. 

You couldn’t believe it the rest of the day. When you two got Chinese food in China town, or when you walked out onto time square you still couldn’t believe that you were now engaged. 

And a dark part of you thought for sure that when the two of you landed back home, things were going to be hard. But when you thought about that, and you looked at Mingyu all you could think was that every difficult moment would be worth it right by Mingyu’s side. And so in the end you didn’t really mind. 

-

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[transvampireboyfriend]

Had this “Steve only hates impersonal nicknames” idea in my notes for a while and then after seeing @cholvoq​ ‘s wonderful art I had to turn it into a real thing for Valentine’s Day. This is 2.4k, i’m SO sorry edit: you can now read this on ao3 :)

Eddie’s a nickname guy. It’s always Dusty this and Gare-Bear that and JeffJeff here and Bobbie there and it’s Mikey and Maxxii and Nance-pants and Johnny and… big boy?

Him being a nickname guy makes it near impossible to hide his crushes. Thankfully, Steve had been really cool about it. Sure, he seemed a little stunned, but Eddie still had all his teeth in place by the end of that interaction, so he had called that a win.

He hadn’t known then that Steve was… different. Or he was starting to see it but what he thought was shocking then had really been just the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected Steve to be nice. Or funny, or caring, or protective, or understanding.

He had learned all of that after everything. During chats on Hellfire nights while the kids cleaned up after themselves, during hangouts at the diner with Robin and Nancy, during Saturday afternoons when he went to pick out a movie only to end up talking with Steve, their conversation flowing until it was cut short by Steve’s shift ending.

After some time, Eddie had gotten to know Steve even more during long weekday nights when one came over to bring the other something they left behind, or to share a record, or to demand the beers the other owes or to show the other a stupid article in a stupid magazine only to end up making dinner together and watching a movie afterwards.

They stopped making excuses about two weeks ago.

Eddie had asked “do youuu… wanna come over?” on Saturday night, while nervously twirling his keys as Steve locked the front doors of the Family Video.

The evening chill had cut right through Eddie’s leather jacket as his keys clanged against his rings. But Steve had nodded with a smile and asked “pizza?” on their way to their cars, and Eddie had forgotten all about the cold.

Point being, Steve had been just fine with ‘big boy’ when it happened. Eddie’s a nickname guy. Him and Steve are hanging out more now, and so, Eddie’s been calling him more nicknames. Some of them are very intentional, others come completely without thinking, and it turns out, Steve takes issue with a few of them.

The first time it happens, Eddie’s underneath his van trying to get the damn thing to cooperate, the recent winter was tough on it, and it keeps dying out on him.

Steve sits nearby perched on a little stool, wearing his Family Video vest since he came by right after finishing his morning shift to see if they could make plans for lunch. Eddie suggested they grab something at the diner if and when he finally gets the van to start back up and Steve had agreed to wait.

He’s been telling Eddie about tonight’s basketball- game? match? super bowl? Is there such a thing as the major leagues of basketball? Eddie’s not sure, but he adores the sound of Steve’s voice and he’s kind of invested in the drama of players switching teams and retiring and whatever else Steve wants to tell him about. So, he’s been listening, not really bothering with asking for clarification for what he doesn’t understand yet. He’ll figure it out as they go.

He's blindly patting the floor around his legs for his rag, when he feels Steve put it right in his hand.

Eddie’s relieved. "Thanks, bud!" he says, the nickname just rolling off his tongue effortlessly, no meaning attached.

It gets kind of quiet all of a sudden. After about five seconds of Steve not talking, Eddie comes out to check on him, and finds him frowning at his legs.

"Don't call me ‘bud’" Steve requests, looking up at his face, his tone just a tad harsh. Eddie would think he ran into King Steve if he didn't know any better.

As it is, Eddie gets Steve probably thinks the nickname is childish or patronizing, so he doesn’t think twice of it, just gets a little sheepish and says "sorry, Stevie".

Steve smiles at that, a little cocky. He does his little mean girl shaking his head thing like he just got exactly what he wanted. Eddie feels his face twist a bit in confusion, but he likes it when Steve gets a little mean so he doesn't say anything about it and just dives back under his van as Steve resumes their conversation.

 The second time it happens, they’re outside the supermarket. The kids shot out of the van as soon as it rolled to a stop, Steve calling out a warning after them while still listening to Eddie explain why Star Wars and Star Trek are actually very different but really good in their own way. Their conversation carries on as they hop out of the van, lock up and walk to meet at the front.

“I’m telling you, Star Trek is great. You would love it,” Eddie says, “you just have to give it a chance”.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but Eddie can see his smile.

“Ok, alright,” Steve answers, “you can show me tonight then”, it’s almost too nonchalant. Eddie has to hide his grin.

Steve’s been suggesting they hang out more and more lately, and he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful. They clearly enjoy each other’s company, their time together is never dull, Steve seems to be really comfortable around him and maybe, just maybe…

“Should we get beers then?” Eddie asks, excited at the prospect of some more time alone with him.  They haven’t had a weeknight hangout since Eddie fixed his van last week. He kinda misses the very specific color of Steve’s eyes in the Harringtons’ yellow living room lamplight.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his eyes get soft in a way Eddie only started noticing a couple of weeks back, “we can watch it at my place” he adds. Eddie thinks he definitely hasn’t seen him look at anyone else like that.

To shake himself out of the spell of the prettiest boy he’s ever met making the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen at him and ONLY him, Eddie grabs Steve by the wrist and starts marching them towards the supermarket’s front doors.

Without thinking, Eddie says "c'mon man," as they go.

Steve, who started easily following him (like he always does these days), suddenly stops in his tracks. Eddie gets pulled back and almost stumbles on top of Steve. He'd get flustered if Steve wasn't frowning at him like he’d just said the most insulting thing he’d heard this month.

"Don't call me ‘man’" Steve says. Eddie feels his eyebrows raise a bit.

He debates asking why but doesn't question Steve in the end. He’d rather offer understanding than judgement to him any day.

So, Eddie takes advantage of Steve's wrist in his hand, and squeezes there a bit, says "I'm sorry sweetheart" sincerely, looks into Steve's eyes so he can see Eddie means it.

Steve blushes a bit then, not really used to the nickname yet, Eddie just got the balls to start using it last week. Eddie himself is not really used to seeing Steve blush, and at something he says? It’s too much power for one metalhead.

But he gets distracted from Steve’s blush because it happens again, Steve basically preens like a peacock once Eddie switches nicknames. Looks smug, like he has Eddie wrapped around his finger and well, Eddie guesses he does, so, no arguments there either.

He just smiles back at Steve, really, has no other choice, it’s not like he can control how he reacts to the most gorgeous fucking face the universe could ever come up with. But he tugs him along again, Steve happily following this time.

The next time it happens, Steve’s leaning against his kitchen island, with Eddie leaning across from him against the counter.

The party is watching a movie in the Harringtons’ living room and at some point, Eddie got up to get himself another soda, Steve not so subtly followed after him, taking the empty popcorn bowls to the sink. He struck up a conversation and there they stayed.

Eddie’s been turning the small gesture around and around in his head. Clearly Steve’s not shy about seeking him out, and he’s obviously good with the party knowing, which means a hell of a lot because those are Steve’s people, that’s his family.

Eddie’s honestly running out of excuses to not ask him out. Seeing him reaching out to bump his sneaker against Eddie’s boot when he says something funny, laughing just a little too hard at Eddie’s dumb joke; seeing his eyes widen a bit when Eddie compliments him; seeing him notice when Eddie is holding back from talking too much, and not letting it go until he thinks Eddie’s shared all of his opinions on the subject; Eddie thinks maybe he can be brave, when it comes to Steve.

And this week might be the perfect time.

Here they are still, the movie long ended and several easy conversations floating from the living room to the kitchen, where they’re still engrossed on their own.

“I mean I taught the kid how to do his hair for god’s sake!” Steve is saying, Eddie’s laughing easily, and he has a slight suspicion Steve’s acting way more annoyed than he really is because he knows Eddie dies laughing every time Steve roasts the kids.

“Just, if he’s gonna give me hair advice, he should work on that goddamn tone. At the Very Least.” Steve finishes, Eddie giggling all the while at his Annoyed Mom tone.

"Yeah, dude!" Eddie agrees, wanting to egg him on, but Steve's face suddenly falls and whatever remark Eddie had locked and loaded just fades away.

Eddie blinks perplexed; he’s getting déjà vu.

Steve frowns at him, says "Don't call me ‘dude’".

It’s eerie, only he sounds a bit annoyed this time.

Eddie thinks, maybe someone called Steve ‘dude’ before in an unpleasant way, so he doesn't pry.  Instead, he takes the chance to call him a nickname he likes more, and says "Sorry, pretty boy", his heart fluttering in the milliseconds he has to wait for Steve’s reaction.

And it happens one last time: Steve absolutely beams at that one, his smile so bright it makes Eddie want to jump in place.

He leans further back on the counter returning the smile, not noticing the common thread in Steve’s reactions to him switching nicknames.

But then the glint in Steve’s eyes suddenly brightens a dim corner of Eddie’s brain. He gets this feeling that reminds him of a perfectly set up riddle or finding that one perfect note for his latest song. It’s like everything suddenly just makes sense.

Eddie feels realization dawn on his face as he pushes himself off the counter to walk right into Steve’s personal bubble, grabs both of Steve's hands.

"Steve" Eddie says, not even caring that he sounds like the name is dripping in honey when it comes out of his mouth. With how sweet Steve is, it might as well be.

Steve just looks at him a little stunned, but doesn't say anything. Eddie draws circles in the back of his palms to reassure him.

"Why don't you want me to call you ‘dude’?" Eddie asks, trying to find out if this whole thing is what he thinks it is.

Steve looks down at their joined hands,.

"You call Nancy that sometimes..." Steve mumbles.

His answer would sound inconsequential to the unsuspecting, certainly would have to Eddie as late as last week, but Eddie thinks he’s finally getting it, and he hums his understanding.

"How ‘bout ‘man’?" he asks

Steve replies "You call Robin that sometimes..." his eyes still on their hands.

Eddie nods his agreement.

"I call everyone those things" he points out.

Steve agrees. "Exactly" he says, finally looking at him again, sounding annoyed and confirming Eddie’s suspicions.

Eddie feels his face split into a smile. He wants to grab Steve’s beautiful freaking face and just plant one on him.

"Can I still call you sweetheart?" he ventures instead. The nickname brings the hint of a smile to Steve's face but then he seems to realize something not so pleasant.

"Do you call someone else ‘sweetheart’?" Steve asks in return.

"No one" Eddie says, shaking his head, his tone vehement.

"Then yes" Steve finally answers. Eddie's heart wants to beat right out of his chest.

He interlocks their fingers to ground himself, Steve looks down at their hands and smiles at the sight.

"So, you don't want me to call you something I call someone else?" Eddie states, more than asks, calling Steve’s eyes back to his again.

"Anyone else" Steve confirms, holding his gaze.

Eddie lets out a small shuddering exhale and feels his heart fluttering in his throat, he really cannot believe this boy.

"Steve" Eddie drawls, dripping in honey again, his hands coming up to cradle Steve's face because he really can't resist anymore "Sweetheart" he says.

Steve's eyes grow a little wide and he starts blushing so much that Eddie can feel it in his palms.

"Steevieeee" Eddie sinsongs, squeezing Steve's face a bit "Pretty boy" Eddie calls him. Steve just keeps looking at him and a small smile blooms in his pretty, pretty face.

"Would you let me take you out to dinner this Friday?" Eddie finally asks him, his fingers curling to the back of Steve's head to play with his hair there. Steve's eyes get even wider.

" 's Valentine's this Friday" he points out. Eddie knows.

"Mmhm. Want you to be my Valentine." Eddie tells him, tugs his hair gently, "How's that sound?" he asks, bold in a way he never has been before. Steve blushing does things to him.

"Sounds nice" Steve answers. He smiles and nods while his hands hook on Eddie's belt loops.

"Then it's a date?" Eddie asks, trying not to sound too eager. He thinks he fails spectacularly but Steve beams and pulls him in to kiss his cheek.

"It's a date" Steve tells him, his breath ghosting on Eddie's cheek and making him shiver.

Steve pulls back, lets go of Eddie’s belt loops and tugs on a strand of his hair gently, smiling like the cat that got the cream as he walks back out into the living room.

Eddie’s gonna make this the best Valentine’s Day date Steve has ever been on.

[intrepidacious]

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

[fooled-around-and-fell]

MORE CARMY PLEASE!

Can I please please request Carmy and reader having the HIGHEST sexual tension?? But no smut! I like to edge myself and the audience 😈

well you're a dirty little devil aren't you 😂 how can i say no to this request lol enjoy!

summary: you're a tailor, and carmy urgently needs a suit for tonight's event. just so happens that he needs a date, too.

pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader

genre: fluff

warnings: sexual tension, sexual themes.

Masterlist

-----

"what do you mean you're going to the event in that? you're covered in grease and sauce for goodness' sake." richie points out.

carmen shrugs, "it's just a small event, it's fine."

"small event??" richie scoffs, "cousin, they're going to announce the chef of the year, and you're nominated for it. at least look the part, will you?"

carmen waves him off, not really paying attention to what he's saying.

right on cue, you enter through the bear's back doors with a neatly pressed suit richie requested yesterday. carmen frowns, checking who just barges in like that, and ducks almost immediately when he sees it's you.

"amazing work, as usual." richie compliments. "aaaaalso, could you possibly get me one more suit? for tonight? please?"

you sigh. "really? another last minute request?"

"come on, it's for my cousin, carmen. you know him, right?"

at the mention of carmen's name, your ears perk up and your eyes widen in interest. "u-um, yeah. i've.. met him a few times."

richie has to physically drag carmen away from his station -- where he was wiping an already clean spot to look busy, and basically presents him to you.

"hi." you awkwardly lift a hand and immediately drop it.

"hi." he says back in a thin smile.

great, he thinks you're weird now. you curse yourself.

"alright cousin, just go with her and get a suit. it won't take long, so just go." richie pushes both you and carmen outside of the restaurant, and you're both awkwardly standing there.

"go!!!" richie has to shout from the window before you two finally march on to your shop.

the walk there is obviously silent, and while you try your best to come up with a good conversation starter, carmen notices you taking glances at him and tries his best not to smile.

he's had a crush on you for a while now. well, less of a crush and more of a burning desire. you'd come to eat at the restaurant sometimes and carmen would purposely approach you to give you a menu, go back to the kitchen to make your order, and serve it to you. he doesn't care how inefficient it is.

you, on the other hand, have made it a habit to come to the restaurant a few times a week. just to get a sneak peek at carmen and get some extra time with him. it sounds stalker-y, but something about carmen just shuts you up and you don't know what to say to him. all you can ever muster up is your usual order, a please, and a thank you.

at this point, carmen's memorized your order and always has it warm and ready for every time you walk in the bear. he still takes your order just in case you might get something different, and also to hear you say please. it does something to him.

"so, um," you start, "do you have any type of suit in mind?"

carmen snaps out of his trance, looking at the rows of suits around him. "not really, i'm.. not really good at this stuff."

you nod and pull out a few suits you think will fit him. "well, this one is always a classic, or we can go for something that looks a little classy. this one's navy blue, i'd say this is more of a casual-classy look, it's not plain like the black suit but also not too out there-" you realize you're rambling and clear your throat. "um, yeah. so... preferences?"

carmen smiles a little when he can see your face flush -- and his smile makes it worse, actually. he bites his lip and points to the navy suit, "let's try this one."

"o-okay," you hang the suit in the changing room with a white button up shirt. "you can try it on in here."

while carmen is getting changed, you can see a little opening from the curtains not being closed properly. and you're guilty of peeking through that opening and not looking away... until carmen catches your stare with a smirk.

of course he left that opening on purpose.

once carmen says he's done, you go into the changing room and he scoots over to make room for you and so you can see the suit on him. he looks amazing.

"i think i might need to alter the pants and sleeves." you say, "i'll measure and shorten it."

you take your tape measurer and carmen holds his hand out. right in front of his hand, is the perfect view of your cleavage, and he feels his pants getting slightly tighter. if he keeps this up you might not need to tailor his pants after all.

you make some marks with your pins before moving on to his pants. it's like clockwork - you measure the cuffs, then the inseam. you realize what you're about to do, and your heart rate picks up.

you're on your knees in front of him, dragging the tape measure from his ankle all the way up to you know where.

carmen sees your breath get heavier and somehow comes up with the courage to cup your chin, making you look up at him. oh how good you look on your knees with those eyes.

"stand up." he whispers.

you follow his command, not breaking eye contact, and he walks closer to you until you're barely an inch apart. walking backwards until your back hits the wall, carmy puts his hand behind your head so you don't get hurt, and slowly moves closer.

you're not sure where to put your hands. right now they're on the lapels of his suit, feeling his heartbeat that's going faster, and he's so warm. why is he so warm?

his grip on you is firm, and all he can think about is how badly he wants to kiss you, to take you right here.

"c-carm, i-"

the bell attached to your shop door rings, signaling a customer, and both of you stare at each other. your right side is free, you're free to go greet that customer, but your legs don't want you to move.

"hello? is anyone here?" they ask.

carmen caresses your cheek with his thumb, while his other one has moved from the back of your head to your waist, drawing circles and squeezing every now and then. it makes your knees feel wobbly.

the customer leaves, and none of you break eye contact.

"what are you doing tonight?"

"h-huh?" you're surprised by the question. "nothing, just... some work."

he leans in and kisses you just below your ear. "good. you're coming with me."

[slashmagpie]

Pearl and Gem glance at each other. Then, as one, they glance back at Tango, who is, evidently, not Tango.

“Do we have an amnesiacold on our hands?” Gem asks. 

“Maybe,” says Pearl, glancing back at Tango again. “Tango, buddy, you feeling alright?”

“I—” Tango opens his mouth. Closes it again. “I mean, I’m a little under the weather, to tell you the truth—I ate a South African sausage and it disagreed with me.”

Pearl hums. “And it’s messed with your memory a bit, right?”

“Yes! I mean, no—I mean, how did you—?”

“Would you say that you have a bit of an amnesiacold, Tango?” asks Gem.

“Amnesiacold?”

“You know. Amnesiacold!” Gem says. “When you get sick and forget everything and feel like somebody else?” 

“Ah.” Tango pulls himself to shore. Frowns. “It’s more of an amnesia-food-poisoning, if I’m honest.”

Pearl winces. “Your poor digestive system.”

“It’s not very nice Pearl, I’ll tell you that much,” Tango says, voice low, one hand pressed against his stomach as he pulls a face.

“Okay, that’s enough, I don’t need to hear about your gut issues,” Gem interrupts. “But—you have an amnesiacold! You know, I was an amnesiacold last season.”

“You mean, you had an amnesiacold?”

“No, I was one.” Gem winks. “Like—Tango has an amnesiacold. But you? You’re the amnesiacold. You know?”

Tango’s shoulders hike up with discomfort. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m Tango. And I think you guys should—should skadoodle somewhere else. Should bother-someone-else-ificate. Begone.” 

“I had an amnesiacold last season, you know,” Pearl says. “Gem was one. You can tell us, buddy, we’re not gonna tell anyone.”

“Promise,” Gem says with a nod. “This is a safe space! You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not with us.”

Tango stares at them for a long, long moment, then sags, face falling. He looks exhausted, suddenly, and Pearl feels a rush of sympathy. It can’t be easy, being thrown into the game halfway through, with no context for anything.

“It’s been rough, dudes,” Tango says, voice cracking. “It’s been really really rough. I forgot how hard it was to get anything done on this server! There’s so much chaos, and—”

Wait.

“Ren?”

Not-Tango grins. “In the flesh,” he says with a bow of his head. “Or… not my flesh, exactly.” 

“Ren?” Gem asks, tilting her head in confusion.

“Oh, that’s right, you’ve never met…”

Gem and Ren peer at each other for a moment. “You do look familiar,” Ren says eventually.

“Yeah,” Gem agrees. “I mean, obviously you look familiar—you look like Tango!—but… yeah.” 

They stare at each other for a moment more.

“Maybe we met in a dream?” Ren says at last.

Gem nods. “Sure. Makes as much sense as anything else.”

Pearl glances between them, rocking awkwardly back on her heels. She clears her throat, drawing their attentions back to her. “Welcome back, buddy,” she says to Ren. “Good to see you again.”

“I wish that I could say the same,” Ren says morosely. “I thought I was—I was done, Pearl.” Now that she knows it's Ren, she can hear his cadence in Tango’s voice, voice dropping rough and low with drama as he bows his head. “I was done. No more games, not for the ol’ diggity dog. And now… Here I am!” He laughs a little, stretching out his arms to indicate the server at large. “In a body that’s not mine, in a world I’ve never seen, in a game I do not understand.”

“Oh, Ren…” Pearl frowns. She doesn’t know what to say. 

Gem jumps in. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s just one session, you know? You can do one session!”

“I suppose I must.” Ren looks up at them, jaw tightening. “If I am here—I suppose I must.”

“I’d never been in any of these games before I was Cleo for a bit last season,” Gem says. “So you have an advantage there! And, hey—maybe you can come back next season, and we can meet for real?”

Ren shifts uncomfortably. There’s something heavy hanging about him, something Pearl can’t quite understand. She remembers the last time she’d seen him, skull caved in from the dripstone spike dropped on his head. She remembers her own amnesiacold, the exhaustion that had dragged at her before it had settled in, the memories that had plagued her and just wouldn’t go away. And she wonders—

Just how exhausted would you have to be that your body would have to leave as well as the rest of your self?

Just how sick would you have to be before you didn’t want to come back?

Still, Ren steadies himself. Quirks Tango’s mouth into a smile. “Maybe,” he says, meeting Gem’s gaze. “That would be nice, to meet for real.”

[angeldahlias]

i’ve seen multiple times people writing smut fics about mike and putting shit about them like almost getting caught by abby and like… don’t do that? thrill of getting caught i totally get, but like why would it be exciting for you to possibly be caught by a CHILD? an adult yeah understandable that’s fine. but a fucking child? a young girl that doesn’t understand what sex is or what’s happening, you find it hot that she might catch you? it’s just so gross, i know it’s fiction but like the second i see a mention of abby in a smut fic i’m so wary. do better guys, stop writing gross creepy scenarios where abby almost catches you and mike.

[nukbody]

Mirror's Edge brainrot save me (ft. some cutscenes sketches from last year)

[missviviii]

a/n: zayne my boo <3 im sobbing over the fact that the game killed off mc’s grandma and caleb 😭

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ミ★ Love & Deep Space ミ★

pairing: zayne x fem!reader

warning(s): mentions of death, mentions of the explosion that killed mc’s grandma + childhood best friend (caleb) in game, spoilers(?)

Summary: Ever since that day, you’ve fallen in a deep, dark pit. Why did you have to be the one that they decide to destroy? Why did Caleb and Grandma have to die? Is it your fault they did? Zayne, as your primary care physician and a family friend, is concerned for your well-being.

“Sometimes, a small gesture is all it takes.”

The sound of the news on your TV, the thundering rain outside, the sound of the cars driving by your apartment—it all blurs out as you stared at the TV screen, eyes dead and unfocused on the news of the Wanderers attacking and the explosions. Some 22 casualties, two deaths. Grandma and Caleb. His necklace that you bought him as a goodbye gift when he left for the Aerospace Academy sits beside a picture of you, him, and Grandma on the coffee table, the cheerful smiles making you wished that you could revisit time.

Your apartment, once somewhat organized and clean, is now messy with things being knocked down and dirty dishes long discarded. You stare at the one last thing your Grandma left for you, some..tablet(?) with a final letter on it. You haven’t gotten the energy or the ability to open it. It pains you, seeing that you haven’t visited for so long yet when you do, this was the time her house had to explode right in front of you, flames engulfing the house and the only thing that remained was Caleb’s necklace.

“I miss you, Grandma..” You mumbled to nobody, rubbing the tears threatening to spill out your eyes as you glanced down at the item she left you with. Besides that, a small box of her old recipes of those notecards, and other small things that she had entrusted to you years before.

Around you was your laptop, papers and files on the latest Wanderer attacks around you. Yes, Captain Jenna dismissed you and said that you should take some days off to regain your energy, since you haven’t been getting the sleep or the energy you needed, but you just couldn’t.

Your door opened, yet you didn’t bother to look at who entered. “Still sitting in front of the TV?” A familiar voice spoke out, flipping the light switch on and shutting the door behind him. It was Zayne, a long time family friend and your primary care physician. “You haven’t eaten,” he bluntly says as he sets a bag of food on your table and walked into the kitchen. He bites back a sigh, knowing that you were going through a tough time, and people tended to discard everything and grieve and grieve their hearts out.

“Hello to you too, Zayne,” you replied as you shut off the news and got up off your sofa. You pile up all the papers and files you’ve scattered around and set them on the coffee table before you walk into the kitchen as Zayne is cleaning up your dirty dishes. He checks in on you whenever he’s free or when he’s off his shift. He looks back at you, only making a small hum of acknowledgment before cleaning up your dirty kitchen. You looked terrible—eyes red and puffy from crying, obvious eye bags, and the sparkles from your eyes were gone.

You yawn as you take out a bowl and some utensils for whatever food he brought in for you. You unpacked the bag as he cleaned up the dishes you couldn’t bother doing last week. Potatoes, avocado on the side, tuna salad, salmon and rice you said to yourself as you took out the food that he had carefully backed in those plastic containers for you. Then you took out the last thing. Cookie..dough? He remembered your favorite childhood snack. The kind of cookie dough you liked.

“Your grandma gave me a recipe for the cookie dough. She said that if she couldn’t make it, I should since it lightens your mood,” Zayne says as he puts your clean dishes back into the cabinet. He dries his hand off before walking over to you, watching how you stare at it like a piece of gold. Disbelief and shock were etched on your face.

Zayne puts his hand on your back, soothingly rubbing circles as you opened the container and took a bite. Your eyes almost brimmed with tears again. You could remember how your grandma used to bake in the kitchen and you’d always sneak a bite or two of the cookie dough, no care in the world if you could get salmonella.

“Thank..you, Zayne,” you finally said, turning around tightly hugging him. He was a bit hesitant at first, but he put his hand on your head, massaging your scalp as he looked down at you with a gentle look on his face.

“..You’re welcome. I miss her too.”

Zayne’s eyes looked away at the picture on the counter of your grandma. She didn’t have to go out this way.