rafe picking you up from a night out with your friends after you’ve had a bit too much to drink
ohhhh this is so so rafe coded hehe thank u for requesting i hope u like it <3 there is dad calling!! there is a also slight size difference mentioned here i think? i made reader more tipsy than drunk since it does get a bit heated towards the end lol but rafe still calls it “drunk”
you whimper, rafe walking you outside the bar after you said your goodbyes, practically tripping over your pink platforms. “rafey, slow down!” you cry, the taste of the fruity beverage that got you tipsy still lingering in your mouth.
“want you to carry me,” you hiccup, looking up at him with a faux pout. “my feet hurt.”
“w-well maybe they wouldn’t hurt if.. if you didn’t wear like 10 inch heels,” he exaggerates, still opening his arms for you despite his words. “mm, yeahh but these look so cute!” you giggle, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck and ignoring his ‘annoyance’
“want you to carry me bridal style, daddy. cause.. cause im gonna be your bride one day, right?” you mumble, batting your eyelashes. “gonna give me a baby and.. and a ring and we’ll live.. happily ever after,” you continue softly, heart on your sleeve — so casually talking about your dream.
“course i will doll, in due time.” he promises, slowly lifting you up with no struggle, his handling making your core heat up— one arm underneath your knees and the other on your back. “daddy,” you mewl, heavy shoes dangling. “‘m horny,” you sigh, no shame at how you crave him.
he shakes his head with a small laugh, “you horny baby? what did it for you huh? thinking about the future? being a wife and getting knocked up?”
you whine, nodding. “mhm, you know that’s what i want. wanna be your house wife.. want to have your babies,” you agree, lips formed into a frown. “wanna be full, want you to fuck me.”
“yea, well dad can’t do that right now.. gotta be patient. you’re drunk,” he states in his common, ‘know it all’ tone. “mhm.. mhm.. but i don’t careee, just.. just wanna have sex!” you cry a little louder, rafe’s big hand quickly covering your mouth, glittery lip gloss definitely smeared now.
“shhh, shh. not even in the truck yet and you wanna be talking dirty real loud like that— people.. people can.. hear you, y’know? be quiet.”
a muffled version of “i’m sorry,” leaves your lips, eyes filling with tears.
when he reaches the truck and sits you down, putting your seat belt on before starting to drive back to tannyhill you almost immediately start your whining all over again. “pay attention to me! ‘m right here you know!” you bite, stomping your foot against the car floor, clawing at his bicep.
“hey.. hey, watch it. know you’re drunk but cool it alright? i’m driving, you gotta sober up.” he warns, squeezing your thigh firmly.
you sniffle, grabbing his hand and leading it closer to your heat. “just.. rub a little please? and ‘m tipsy, not drunk!” you protest, laying your head on his arm. “i..i missed you, all the girls were getting upset cause i wouldn’t shut up about you.”
he smirks, that doing it for him and his ego— already feeling himself loosen up as he sneaks his hand in your skirt, rubbing lightly. almost like a reward for depending on him. “that right? can’t stop thinking about rafey even when you’re at girls night?” he mocks. “can’t stop thinking about dick?”
you nod, quickly relaxing against his fingers. “yeah, that’s what i thought. you gonna stay quiet? gonna listen now?”
“mhm.. mhm. course,” you hum, the rest of the car ride spent with rafe driving with one hand as you grind against his other.
thanks to the lovely @oceandriveab and @rafecameroninterlude for proofreading <3
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whats tough about like. Having Chemistry and spending time with someone at the start of the spring semester is that valentines day is coming up and its like a make or break point with what you may or may not Be and you have to question what direction things are headed in and its a pressure just Not present in the fall semester idk. idk
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SO!
Pretty good show honestly. I think it may perhaps come off a little underwhelming compared to last time because they released the full trailers early, so it was chiefly just talking, but I was still pleased.
The only thing I really wanted out of it was one (1) of my predictions coming true and one (1) surprise, and well, between the Watase Family and Nishitani...... THREE!!!!!, that's exactly what I got. Kiryu looking up at the sky like he's struggling to remember who he (allegedly) proposed to is hilarious though same energy as Jo not remembering Ikumi's name ghdshgkdhf the exchange kind of reminded me of Ichi talking to Arakawa as well... the "don't say it in the past tense" one you know the one...
Also next summit in September so that'll be a lovely birthday present :) For Me :)
Also x2 I love seeing which of my asks you decide to reblog. Whether it's because of the actual ask or because of my commentary it always feels like a win (<- normal to want and possible to achieve)
even if Considerably underwhelming, what information's been given IS causin a lotta buzz right now so !!! pretty successful summit in some regards ( ❁´◡`❁;;)
i just wish we got to see LAD8 gameplay, that's probably the only thing i really wanted but i guess there is still the fall summit (and for your birthday's sake i hope it's a real banger one)!
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For some reason this Taylor situation has thrown me back into a Grey's mood???? I've been resisting so far tho 🙏🙏
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summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k
content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉
> in which masterlist!
note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3
—
“jungkook, baby?”
your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.
“babe?”
you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.
him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.
and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.
but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.
you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.
the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.
he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?
agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.
maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.
whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.
in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.
you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.
jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.
clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.
but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.
your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.
not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.
you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.
the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.
you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.
anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.
—
jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.
when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.
night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.
“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.
the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.
“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.
his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.
“are you crying?!”
your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.
“baby!”
he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”
“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”
this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.
“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”
his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.
you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.
“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”
from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.
“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”
now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.
but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.
“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.
he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.
“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”
“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.
he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”
fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.
“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.
the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.
“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”
“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”
“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”
you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.
“____!”
and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.
“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”
you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.
“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”
you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”
“are you sure?”
he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.
“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”
“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”
“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”
“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.
“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.
and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.
“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”
“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”
“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”
he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.
“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.
he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.
and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.
“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”
if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.
however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.
“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”
jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.
may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.
“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”
he winces guiltily.
“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”
“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.
he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.
“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”
unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.
—
“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.
“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.
you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.
of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.
“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.
“rice,” he demands as he chews.
you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.
“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.
witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.
“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.
“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.
“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”
but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.
“i just told you to eat first!”
you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”
he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.
“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”
he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.
—
you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.
with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.
and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.
and it was cold. it was always cold.
“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”
“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”
“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”
“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”
“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”
your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.
a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.
your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.
oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.
“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.
the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.
“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.
the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.
he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.
“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”
you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.
you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.
you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.
“are you spiderman?”
he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”
you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”
he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”
“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“
“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”
your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.
“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”
you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.
“uh?! i’m serious over here!”
this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.
“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”
he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.
“i’ll go with you,”
“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”
“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.
“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”
“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”
that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.
“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”
“this is very normal,” he argues.
the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.
“some would even say romantic.”
a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.
you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.
you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.
—
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)
«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»
PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader
SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.
or;
in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.
GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.
PLAYLIST: right here!
WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)
Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k
masterlist
WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho
[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe
For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones.
You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out.
It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago.
Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.
Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves.
“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly.
“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign.
He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”
You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.”
He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.”
Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him.
You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.”
“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.
“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.”
He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom.
“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.”
“Hey, it’s good.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”
“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you).
“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question.
The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change.
Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet.
“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn.
“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face.
“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck.
“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on.
“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.
Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.”
“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.”
Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him.
“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?”
You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it.
“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones.
You look to your brother and then to Mingyu.
“We broke up.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”
“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.”
“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…”
“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”
He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.”
Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?”
“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.
“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble.
“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.
Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”
Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.”
“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot.
“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?”
“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?”
Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.”
That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds.
“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.
“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”
“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you.
“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.”
Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep.
The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing.
You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant.
“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”
Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.
“Never knew you read.”
“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding.
You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”
He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”
Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you.
“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.
“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?”
You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”
“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.”
“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”
“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down.
“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu.
“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”
“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb.
“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.
“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.
“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.
“And believe you instead?”
Oh, you wish.
Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him.
“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.”
He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it.
“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.”
Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode.
“How far are you with that one?”
“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.”
He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him.
“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave.
“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check.
By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone.
It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though.
[Mingyu]: hey
[Mingyu]: i got to chap 20
[You]: what
[You]: how
[Mingyu]: started reading when i got home
[Mingyu]: and then i got to 20
[Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter
[You]: you think?
[You]: was it that good
[Mingyu]: couldnt put it down
[Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing
[You]: you know where to find me when you wake up
The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon.
Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone.
You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better.
There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name.
The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still.
“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.
“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.
“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”
Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did.
Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you.
“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.
“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies.
“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips.
Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole.
It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”
You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.”
“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”
“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets.
“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”
Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.
More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought.
That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.
Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait.
The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.
It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly.
“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression.
“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish.
But you don’t.
“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?”
“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back.
“Did you drive like this?”
“Uh, no, I walked.”
“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”
“Wanted to see you.”
It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard.
“Had to talk about the book.”
Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”
He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”
You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store.
“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”
He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?”
“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.”
By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before.
“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”
“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.”
“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”
Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him.
He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?”
Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone.
The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee.
“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck.
“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.”
“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him.
“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”
“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently.
“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in.
“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter.
“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time.
He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb.
“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly.
“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth.
Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed.
“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth.
It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die.
Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time.
“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter.
You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”
He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.
It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night.
You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank.
It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer.
If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.
There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar.
They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though.
“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table.
“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies.
Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face.
Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.”
“It’s not about that.”
Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”
Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”
“Better?”
“She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”
Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”
“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”
“Easy?”
“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.”
It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him.
His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”
“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”
He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.
“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing.
“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.
Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.”
“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder.
“Yeah…”
“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly.
“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth.
“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.”
Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.
“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid.
Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”
“You hate living in peace.”
“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—”
“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry.
He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence.
Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.
“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —”
“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table.
Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.
“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.”
“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late.
“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.”
Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff.
“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts.
“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.
“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up.
By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.
Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off.
He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible.
“What’re you doing here?”
Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?”
“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow.
“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”
You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”
“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies.
“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.”
“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”
“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you.
“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly.
“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”
The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long.
“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware.
He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you.
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament.
Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start.
You really needed a new car.
Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head.
Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run).
So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down.
The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead.
“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”
She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave.
“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing.
“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.
“That’d be great actually, thank you.”
Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.
You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you.
Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day.
You had forgotten your book.
It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry.
You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day.
What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day.
Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day.
You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities.
Was he uncomfortable with you?
Was he avoiding you?
Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him?
The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were.
Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying.
[Mingyu]: hey
[Mingyu]: are you at work today?
[You]: yeah
[You]: i get off at 10 tho
[Mingyu]: can i see you today?
You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating.
[You]: course
[You]: are you coming to the store?
[Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off
[You]: okay!!!
[You]: see you then
There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month.
Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore.
Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap.
Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door.
Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him.
“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him.
“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes.
Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.”
He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”
“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water.
He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.”
“It’s next week, isn’t it?”
He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.
“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior.
“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?”
“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”
“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.”
“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood.
“Mingyu, are you okay—”
“I need to talk to you.”
“O-okay.”
It’s silent. Painfully so.
“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.”
There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat.
“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.”
“Mingyu—“
“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”
His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually.
“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”
He pauses.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”
“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”
There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down.
You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much.
“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob.
It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much.
“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”
The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu.
And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms.
You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long.
But you can’t. You can’t do it.
“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”
You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down.
“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”
Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak.
You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore.
You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart.
It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company.
Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.
Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway.
You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck.
There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form.
“What’re you doing?”
Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort.
“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters.
“It’s not that!” you groan.
“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.”
Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.
There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs.
You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.
“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.”
“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?”
“No, you're avoiding each other.”
“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?”
“Stop dodging the question!” he spits.
“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time.
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head.
“Seokmin!” you scream.
“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him.
“No, it’s not,” you grit.
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact.
“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”
“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!”
“I don’t want to go.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”
“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled.
“I’m giving you twenty minutes.”
He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.
Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase.
Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.
The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense.
The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed.
Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar.
Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge.
There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd.
You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?
Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say.
Congratulations.
You’ve worked hard on this.
This looks great.
How’ve you been?
“You’re here,” he says, simple as that.
“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes.
“Seok told me you were here too.”
Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?”
“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”
“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”
“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.
You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you.
Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands.
“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.
It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all.
You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft.
The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.
Soft. Legible. New.
You take a step back.
And another
Then another.
You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work.
You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all.
THE BEGINNING
There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays.
There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name.
“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…”
You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak.
You needed to leave.
Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed.
“Let’s go home.”
“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.”
He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away.
“Let me drop you off home.”
You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.
He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.
You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down.
Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.
You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop.
Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same.
The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded.
Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so?
Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window?
You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief.
Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed.
You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep.
You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom.
Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint.
“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.
“Uh, no, I was awake.”
“Why haven’t you changed yet?”
You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?”
There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?”
“Nayeon’s”
“Bullshit.”
You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?”
Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”
You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot.
By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles.
Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this.
Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too.
“Promise me you mean it,” you say.
“What?”
“Promise me you mean it.”
“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying.
“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”
The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying.
Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”
“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap.
Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips.
Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks.
“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”
There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite.
“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”
Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside.
His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years.
His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated.
“I love you,” you mumble against his lips.
Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment.
“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”
Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full.
There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far.
“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”
He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth.
“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”
He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”
He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”
By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down.
Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy.
“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out.
His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other.
“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”
Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties.
Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage.
Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”
“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”
He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core.
Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you.
“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional.
There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same.
The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat.
Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left.
“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good.
“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame.
Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.”
You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”
He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?”
“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away.
He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut.
“Oh, Mingyu,”
That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it.
“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more.
It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint.
“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”
He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.”
“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax.
And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”
He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot.
You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his.
“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own.
“Great.”
“Great?”
“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process.
You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes.
“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves.
“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand.
“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips.
Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness.
“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.”
When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.”
“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge.
“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole.
You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady.
He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.”
When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.
He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic.
If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”
“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before.
And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well.
He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze.
He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed.
His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.
“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body.
He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.”
You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again.
“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub.
“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?”
Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent.
“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.
“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”
There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat.
“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone.
“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers.
“Did you bring it with you?”
You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed.
“What the fuck?” you breathe out.
“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed.
You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.
“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again.
“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.”
“Oh.”
The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later.
“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.
“What?”
“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.”
“I-”
“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.”
The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.
You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand.
You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands.
“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”
“We could do that right now.”
“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”
“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.
“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them.
“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.”
You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.
“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”
You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”
He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.
His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it.
“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter.
He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off.
Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”
“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep.
The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time.
The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar.
Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp.
There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.
You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same.
Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s.
The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here.
You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back.
It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you.
They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother.
[Nayeon]: fuck
[Nayeon]: i didnt see this
[Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you
[Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here
[Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you
[You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late
[You]: i was at mingyus place
[You]: ill tell you more later
[Nayeon]: WHAT???
By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”
“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”
You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does.
“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face, “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.”
“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”
Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.”
The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?”
“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.”
You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?”
“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.”
“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort.
“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.”
“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.”
“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.
“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”
He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.”
“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.
He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.”
When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.”
“I hope so,” you reply.
“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.”
You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”
He grins, “I’d do it for you.”
You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?”
His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”
Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”.
6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses.
By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can).
Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed.
It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth.
“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.
“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”
“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”
You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”
“What? There’s more?” he scoffs.
“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”
‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?”
“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”
“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically.
“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly.
“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples.
“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.”
He’s silent.
“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.”
No response.
“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”
Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?
“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.”
You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight.
“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.”
“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.”
“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”
The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling.
Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well).
But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other.
His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment.
You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight.
As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively.
By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you.
You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit.
You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you.
By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.
“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”
“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”
“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.
He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”
“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.”
He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”
“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.”
He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”
It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights.
“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”
“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”
You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”
He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!”
You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle.
“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”
He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.”
You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home.
It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums.
“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.
“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate.
“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load.
It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”
He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?”
“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.”
He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”
You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”
He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”
He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”
“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything.
You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.”
Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”
“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite.
It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie.
He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression.
“Love ya’” he giggles.
“Hm.”
“What, hm? Say it back.”
You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”
“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!”
You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening.
“Hey!”
Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all.
“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone.
“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply.
“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself.
It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
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make you mine ~ m.sturniolo x reader (she/her)
જ⁀➴. summary: i mean you know what they say, keep your friends close but always keep your enemies closer- just how much closer?
જ⁀➴. warnings: filthy smut, fingering, dumbification, degradation, praise, rope bunny, spitting, spanking (i’m sorry), dom!matt and sub!matt, jealousy, brat!reader, a little angsty (cause yk i fw that too much)
જ⁀➴. this is for @annamcdonalds67 challenge!! i will be basing this fic off of madison beer’s ‘make you mine’ !
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
‘i wanna lay you down, i wanna string you up, i wanna make
you mine.’
do you know that feeling when you’re drunk, so drunk that your mind feels like a fog? like a layer of cloud and mist has settled into the crevices of your brain, seeping into your every thought. a fog so powerful that it alters your visions and brings hidden secrets to the tip of your tongue, the kind of secrets that would change something, anything once and for all.
and in that moment, the feeling of freedom outweighs all the consequences of letting that secret out. slowly, my fogged brain pieces together to allow my hands to fiddle with the padlocks of the secret. to untie the tangled chains, to swivel the tiny little key around on the pads of my fingers, to push the blade into the hole in the chest.
and just like that, a secret sworn to never be spread dribbles down the edges of the box and every thought telling me, yelling actually, that what i’m about to do is wrong is etched away by a metaphorical marker and nothing will stop me from what i want to do and what i’m going to do.
the dizzying noise of a thousand people, some my friends, most of them random people you’d find at classic LA parties, is silenced by the sound of my beating heart and the blood pumping viciously around my body.
it’s the kind of passion that comes from envy, that comes from jealousy, that comes from resent so blinding that every step you take feels like it could break the marble floor underneath your feet. or that steam pushing out of your ears could be visible.
it’s the kind of jealousy that comes from seeing a person you care so deeply about in a corner with some bitch who knows nothing about him.
like- she doesn’t know what he likes and doesn’t like, she doesn’t know that he has three books by his bed and that one of them has her initials carved into the fourteenth page. she would never know that his own couch has an imprint from where my fucking ass sits everyday. like she wouldn’t know that their shared ‘hatred’ wasn’t actually real. just like how she doesn’t know that he is not on the market and she has absolutely no fucking place in the world to have her wretched bones on his skin.
you’d assume that in a situation like this time slows like a movie but it doesn’t. it speeds and i can’t keep track of anyone around me or what song is playing or even what drink is sloshing onto my hand from my cup. i just know exactly where it’s going to go though.
before i step foot into the beaming light of the kitchen, two hands grab my hips and swivel me around. two hands that won’t be there in a minute if they don’t leave my body.
im met with a pair of very similar eyes and i suddenly feel very guilty for thinking what i thought a second ago.
‘hey! where have you been all night? me and nick have been looking for you literally everywhere.’ chris’ eyes look concerned but his smile is still in full tact.
‘i’ve been talking to people, catching up-‘
‘did something happen? cause you know, you look like you’re gonna kill somebody’ he laughs, his hands leaving my hips and i brush the area off where he touched, holding my head high to hopefully hide the seeving look on my face.
‘just people liking to get up in my business, you know how it is. ‘ i nod, sipping from cup, immediately regretting because actually wtf is in it.
‘okay, well- me and nick were about to leave, we’re just tryna round you and matt up.’ my teeth clench together at the sound of his name.
‘yeah, i don’t know chris. i might go home later, feels like we only just got here!’
‘it’s literally 2am, we’ve been here 4 and half hours already-‘
“come on, chris! when do you ever get to go to a party as big as this? go find a girl or something- give yourself a good time!’ his eyebrows furrow and he shrugs his shoulders.
“i guess so-“
“you gotta get over that bitch ex of yours anyways, perhaps this could be your perfect time.” and with that, he was fully listening. his shoulders now standing upright and his posture as straight as possible.
“you’re right, y/n. oh, look- there’s matt! guess he’s already a step ahead of me and you.”
my head spirals around is quickly, i think i saw stars. big, white, angry shooting stars. the sight of his hands clenching onto her ass, pushing her against a kitchen counter. her dress slowly riding up her thighs, thanks to his legs prying them open.
and with that, something ticks inside me.
i’ve been jealous before. hell i’ve been the most jealous in the room. but have you ever been so jealous that a rack of knives looked appealing and the bat that hangs above the wall in the living room looked handy dandy to do the exact job you needed to?
why was it always the bitchiest of girls who all the guys hate -but apparently not so because she’s tugging on one of their dicks by saturday.
well guess what? two can play at that game, bitch.
i turn around to find a good looking guy, not so attractive that i could become attached but not ugly enough for me to be gagging when i run my hands along his dick.
‘you. come with me.” i gesture, my fingers curving in to lure him into me.
his brows furrow and he scoffs, “why?”
“cause i fucking said so, come with me.” i drag his hand and he turns back to look at this friends with a sudden bright smile.
our hands are clenched together as i pull him through a small crowd towards the kitchen. the urge to instantly jump on him to rile matt up is incredibly overwhelming but desperation isn’t always the best look on me.
my hand reaches for a red cup, filled with what looks like classic punch and i pour it down the sink to fill it up with straight vodka and hand it to him. “drink up, buttercup.”
his eyes widen but he obeys and i watch as he drinks every last sip, my fists clenching from the idea of what’s going on directly behind me.
“ngh’ matt-“ i hear the girl moan and my head twists to see his eyes glaring into mine whilst sucking red marks onto her neck.
i scoff and drag my guy closer to me, all whilst maintaining eye contact to lick a stripe up his neck and shove my right hand up his shirt to feel his torso. the guy did have toned abs, i could feel from how rock hard he was against my fingers but unlucky for him, i was completely and utterly distracted by the guy i hated so fucking much opposite me.
hate so pure that the sound of his name made goosebumps run down my neck and my blood bubble under my skin. my eyes would sting from the gaze of his eyes, my eyelids burning from refusing to shut. it was hate so pure that seeing a girl on his arm made my throat run dry and my words choke. the rings on my fingers digging into my palms and my teeth scratching against one another as i clenched my jaw to see the hickies scattered on his chest.
my tongue caresses the skin of his neck, latching over what i think is his sweet spot, as he moves his hands down my body. i smirk as i see matt latch onto the bitch’s figure tighter, desperate to outweigh whatever i was doing.
i look up at the guy and say, “do whatever you want to me, right here, right now.” his eyes light up and his breath halts slightly.
“but we’re in here with so many people-“
“i don’t care.” my head turning back to look at matt who is still looking at me, a grimacing smile speaking across my face which makes his brows furrow deeper into his skin.
the guy grabs my leg to push it onto his, my front up against him and he latches our mouths together, his tongue immediately creating a space between my lips to enter.
after a solid minute of awkwardly making out in front of what felt like 30 people, a hand pushes my leg down from the guys hip and grabs my hand to pull me away from the crowd.
i’d be stupid if i said i didn’t know it was matt, of course i knew it was him. after all, he knew i had full control over him even if we were just enemies.
sweating bodies collided with mine and i squeeze my body close together to avoid elbows to the face. my heels making me stumble a little, alcohol still running through my system.
i look down to find a step up a winding staircase, a classic LA mansion.
20 steps felt like half a lifetime as matt still desperately drags me up them, whispering incoherent, angry remarks under his breath. until finally he makes it to the top and barges through the first bedroom he sees.
i enter quickly after him, my hand falling to my side as he slams the door behind us. i didn’t have time to react before he pushes my shoulder into the wall behind me, digging his nails into my skin.
his eyes are practically black with anger, his eyebrows fallen to his eyelids yet a disgusting grin on his face. his tongue slides along his teeth, before he spits, ” what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”
“whatever you’re playing, i mean it’s only fair.” i squeak back, my breath a little taken away from the sudden collide with my back and the brick wall. and of course the incredibly small space between our lips and the fact that our noses are touching.
“that’s not how this works around here.”
“then how does it? you get to go around with every girl in our state and i sit in the background watching?” what was that even supposed to mean?
he removes a hand from my shoulder and shakes his head, “people around here know they can’t touch you. they just know that, sweetheart. i assumed you would too.”
“and you’re allowed to have that bitch all over you? tell me, matt. how is this really fucking fair?” his hand comes up to my throat to clench it, light enough so i’m not choking but hard enough so that i’m gagged, my head lifted up a little.
“because how else am i supposed to get you to fucking take notice that i want you.”
i furrow my eyebrows, i try to speak but he clenches harder and the words don’t form in my mouth.
“every girl i have i imagine it’s you, every time i’m fucking a girl i imagine it’s your pussy im in, i imagine it’s your lips that im sucking on.”
i look dead in his eyes, my lashes blurring my vision slightly, his hooded gaze mesmerising me as i take in his every word
“every mean comment i made and every remark you made back riled me up. i knew it, you knew it, everyone else fucking knew it. im fed up of this bullshit circle we’ve had going on- i need you to see that you’re mine. when i saw you and that bitch in the kitchen, i smiled because i knew i got you. i got you to the point where you fucking admitted to me that im in your brain, you want me just as much as i want you baby.”
his tongue pokes out to lick a strip along my lip, he stands back to look at me in such a vulnerable position. my legs squeezed together in my little black dress and his hand wrapped around my neck as i look up at him with teary eyes and a dumb little smile on my face. it was just all he had ever wanted.
his hand leaves my neck, reaching up to grab my jaw and push my lips against his. a messy, tongue-filled kiss. his tongue sucks onto mine and i moan into his mouth, my legs moving forward to push him backwards.
he hums into the kiss, moving his head to suck on my lips whilst treading towards the bed in which he eventually pulls us onto. my legs scramble to straddle his lap and loop my hands around his neck.
he pulls away to pull the straps of my dress down as i look into his eyes, if somebody had told me two years ago that i was straddling matt’s fucking lap i probably would’ve slapped you around the face.
“do you know how long i’ve wanted you baby?” he says, yanking down my black dress to reveal a lacy, practically see-through bra that pushes up my boobs to accentuate them especially for matt’s eyes.
i shake my head, my hands clasping onto the hairs on the nape of his neck.
“too fucking long.” he rips off my bra, my mouth wide from how easily he broke the fabric, a loud groan leaving his mouth as he launches forward to suck my hard, pointed nipples.
my head thrown back as i grind against his jean pants, desperate to relieve the feeling in between my thighs. the tent of his pants brushing roughly against my region making me pull his head closer into my tits.
he pulls away to stare up at me, already looking a little disheveled, as he chuckles slightly, “you’re so fucking needy, who knew a pretty baby with a mouth as big as yours could be so desperate for my cock?”
i whimper at the sound of his patronising voice, my hips moving faster as he speaks but the loss of the soft pad of his tongue of nipples making my eyes water a little.
he grabs my jaw to force me to look at him, his fore finger and his middle finger squeezing together closely as he pushes them towards my lips. “open up, slut.”
i open my mouth for him and he guides his fingers into my mouth and instinctively i suck on them, my eyes slowly fluttering shut and i hum onto them, wishing it was something else.
the tent underneath me twitching even under all this fabric and the hands looped around his neck untie to slowly run down his torso all the way to the zip on his jeans.
“you want it all don’t you baby? you act so tough but really you’re just a whore for me and my dick. it’s not even been five minutes and you’re already scrambling to undo my pants. that’s it baby, let me use all your pretty parts.” i pull them down to reveal his wet boxers and his huge dick.
this man wasn’t just packing a couple inches, it was enough to bruise the back of my throat and my cervix. my eyes light up as i hold it through the cotton of his underwear, drool begging to leave my mouth.
he leans back slowly, his elbows digging into the plush mattress underneath of us as he guides me closer towards his cock, pushing away stray hairs that curl around the frame of my face.
i pull down his boxers for his dick bounce straight up and hit his stomach, pre cum leaking from his bright red, swollen tip. and i hungrily scramble to grab hold of it, his words replaying in my head, i’m just a whore for him.
my hands smooth the veins along the bottom of his dick, slowly making my way up to kiss his oozing tip and i feel his body shudder underneath me. without a second thought, i shove his tip in my mouth and suck his cum off. my mouth hollows and i move my head up and down, determined to get some noise out of his pretty mouth.
“that’s it pretty girl, just like that- mmm” his head is thrown back and his hands come round to cradle my head, pushing me further onto his dick.
i moan which sends vibrations down his cock, his tip growing in my mouth as i swirl my tongue around it, the gagging sounds echoing in the room, riling matt up more and more.
“fucking take it all baby- oh fuck, i know you can” he winces out, the grip on my hair tightening and i smile against the girth of his dick doing exactly what he says, hollowing my mouth and sucking all the way to his bone. his hips shove up to hit the back of my throat and my eyes flutter shut, the full feeling in my throat overwhelming me.
he guides my head by bobbing my head up and down in time with his hip thrusts, the sounds of my gargling getting progressively louder as he becomes more determined to cum down my throat.
a sudden halt to his erotic sounds, i feel my head being pulled up, a ‘pop’ sound coming from my mouth from the sudden loss of his dick in my throat. he laughs, smoothing my cheek with his thumb before gently slapping it and grabbing my chin so i look at him.
“you gonna let me make you feel good?” i frantically nod my head, the heat between my legs practically burning a hole thru my panties now.
“that’s my girl, you’re mine. aren’t you?” i nod and he tuts, “ use your words.”
“i’m yours.” and that’s all he needed before he picks me up like i’m a fucking feather weighing nothing more than a couple pounds and throws me onto the bed whilst he twists around to stand up off the bed, looking down at me.
“you know it, my little slut.” he pulls down my dress finally, he didn’t get to finish underdressing me cause the idea of finally tasting him was too much. but now that i can feel the cold air hitting the most private of places and his glare blazing up and down my body, i feel shy.
my elbows hover over my boobs as i try and scrunch up a little but matt’s hands pry them away and he spreads my legs before discarding my little black dress on the floor, i’m only left with my matching lace panties.
he licks his lips, his glare fixating on the wet patch created on my underwear, just for him. as he holds my thighs apart, he blows gently onto the fabric making it instantly cold and i shift up the bed a little, whimpering.
“this all for me, baby?” he looks up at me, caressing my thighs gently. the cold metal of his rings making my goosebumps more and more apparent.
“mhm.” my eyes flutter shut and i push against the force of matt’s hands, becoming increasingly desperate for any kind of pressure on my pussy. “please.”
“please what?” he smirks, his touch on my thighs now so light you wouldn’t even believe it was there. it was another level of teasing that made the core of your very stomach fuzzy and the lack of any touch adds to the sick feeling you have.
“just do something, anything.” he snaps when i say that, flipping me around quickly so that my body slaps against the mattress, my ass on full show to him, my thing not doing much too cover my the cheeks of my ass.
“i wanna feel the rush, i wanna taste the crush, i wanna get you going.”
the sharp sting of fabric ripping against my delicate skin and sudden gasp mixed with the breaking of sweet lace makes matt chuckle in the background before placing a harsh slap to my ass, sending me into the air as it was so unexpected.
“you gonna be good for me?” he smooths over where he slapped, secretly wishing it will make a bruise.
“yes, yes i’ll be good.” i beg, wanting literally anything.
as his fingers move closer towards my wetness, he suddenly moves away quickly before getting up and searching the room.
i look up and frown, “what the fuck are you doing?” i whisper a little, upset that he looks like he’s about to leave.
he doesn’t say anything but pauses once he gets to the drawer in the closet and laughs before turning around to reveal a belt.
“what are you doing? this isn’t even your room.” i say, relaxing yet still confused.
he walks over to me and forces my chin up at him, “keep speaking in that bratty fucking tone and i will leave you high and dry”
“well you won’t even let me get high so what effect is that gonna have-“ before i could finish my sentence he covers my mouth with one hand and uses the other to turn me around so my head is shoved into the pillows of the bed. he scrambles to grab my hands, pushing them against my back and fiddling with the belt.
“just you fucking wait and see, little angel.” he twists them around my wrists and tightens them so i can’t get out without any help.
his hands letting going of mine before i feel them suddenly exactly where i need them. a singular finger pressing down onto my bundle of nerves and my whole body jumps with just a simple touch, a pornographic moan leaving my mouth.
“does that feel good baby” i whimper back a desperate ‘yes’ and wriggle against the pad of his finger wanting him to move oh, so badly.
“want me to move my hand, darling?” i nod my head frantically hoping he can see me which i gather he can considering the low laugh that leaves his mouth and the sudden movement of his finger dragging down slowly through my folds.
“you want me here?”
“yes, yes. i want you there. i want you to move.”
“you want me to move?”
“please.”
“there it is.” and with that, the gentle movements turned into quick, hard thrusts. his two fingers sliding through my hole at an insane pace, not letting me readjust for one second, making my whole body lift from the bed, my hands shaking in the belt he tied me up in.
the cold metal of his rings mixing with the warm wetness coating his fingers, the sensation was immense. all before he flips me over and presses his mouth onto my clip sending me into fucking sub space.
“oh my fucking god! matt-“
he licks and kisses at my clit at a gentle pace all while his fingers strum in and out of my hole at an alarming speed, it’s a wonder he doesn’t have arm cramp even after one minute.
my ass doesn’t stay on the bed and my whole body is jittering at the sudden overwhelming sensation. the flicks of his tongue and the curving of his fingers making sure he hits my sweet spots makes the bundle in my stomach tighten up.
“please matt, i’m gonna cum!”
he carries on, his feasting at my pussy getting progressively more intense, like a starved man. he enters another finger into my hole, stretching me perfectly so that i am shaped for him.
he breathes against my heat, “let go, baby.”
and with that, i did. sweat running from my back and forehead, my tied hands desperately grabbing onto the leather and my toes clenching over his shoulders.
he licks me clean, pressing one last kiss to my clit which makes me jolt as he laughs a little to himself seeing my messy figure on the bed.
“you did so well, baby.” i smile at him, his head coming close to mine to kiss my lips.
“now you gonna help me out sweetheart?”
i nod and he turns me around to take me out of the tied belts and he kisses the red marks from where i pulled against the restraint. “you liked these?” i shake my head and he laughs.
i pull myself up from the bed and onto matt’s lap to face him, i latch my lips onto his and hook my hands around his neck pulling him closer to me. my naked body fitting perfectly around his warm body.
he moves his hands down my body, caressing my curves and humming against our kiss as i pull away and look down to stroke his dick to which he kisses and pulls himself into my neck.
i move myself up his body to push myself down onto his hard shaft, as he winces and throws his head backwards, moaning my name.
i pull at his hairs and rock my hips against him and watch his demeanour change as his hips desperately rutt against mine and i forcefully push my hands onto his thighs so that he’s restricted.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he groans as my grinding against him slows.
“taking control.” his eyes widen and i push myself up further so that i can plunge further onto his dick. my nails digging into his thighs as i watch his breathing get faster and moans leave his mouth.
“that’s not - ngh- how it works.” he argues with me which doesn’t last for long when i start to kiss his neck and suck on the lobes of ears in which his thrusts up into me become more persistent.
“i’m gonna cum-“
“not until i cum.” i say, chasing my high with him as i hear him whine into my ear, panting a little too.
“please, just let me.” he hugs me closer, my boobs crushed against his chest as he begins to rocks back and forth with me, moaning and groaning with his head in the air. so much for tough guy, huh?
“cum with me.” i bounce up and down as he thrusts up into me for the last time before releasing his cum, painting my walls as it oozes out of me as i collapse onto the bed next to us.
our heavy breathing and hearts beating is the only thing that can be heard.
matt’s hand slowly moves to bring me closer to him, i smile as i look up at his tired state.
“you changed quickly, mr tough guy to oh please! please, let me cum! “ he shakes his head and covers my mouth.
“shut up, you wouldn’t fucking let me .”
i laugh at him and he picks me up to squeeze me, so much for being enemies, huh?
“so-“
“you’re mine now right? like for real?” he’s not looking at me, rather picking at his nails.
i giggle and press my head against his forehead and nod, “of course.”
hope you all liked !! too many fucking words :)
tags: @wisteral @evieolo @ev3rgreenxtrees @estelleswrld @recklessmatt @recklesssturniolo @realuvrrr @urfavstromboli @obscurechris @poopydroopt @plasticferal @lilasturns @lovingmattysposts @m4ttslvr @mattandmilds @muwapsturniolo @mattsgirlfriendlol @kirby0strombolli @kvtie2 @kikisturnioloo @kqyslyho3 @klarasmith @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @sturniolosstar @sturniolossmut @mattslolita @zooweemamas @chrattenthusiast @chrissgirlsstuff @bernardsbendystraws @ducksturniolo @dsturniolo @deatthmatch @fruitglazed @hearts4sturniolo @hawaiihasmyheart @heartsforchrisandmatt @hoesformatt @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @inlovewchris @ihateeveryone357474 @ilovemattsturn @nicksmainbitch @noellesturniolo @yurtrrrr @mattsgirlfriendlol @mattsfaked
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the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure
gojo satoru x reader
summary: title says it all
w/c: 1k
tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence.
a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug
masterlist
check out my latest work for gojo here
the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.
you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.
he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"
you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"
"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"
"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.
you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.
~~~
some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.
when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.
"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.
"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.
after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"
there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"
your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.
"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.
rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.
you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."
"p-promise?"
"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.
gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.
gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.
~~~
the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.
you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.
he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.
your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.
gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.
he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.
he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.
~~~
leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.
you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.
crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.
"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."
gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.
"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.
he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?
"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"
he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.
he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"
god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.
i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.
"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."
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Secure
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: an argument with your boyfriend leaves you more insecure than ever, his words ringing in your head until he finds a way to make it up to you.
warnings: angst, hint of fluff not rlly, fem!receiving, so much praise, some use of pet names, slight overstimulation, fingering……yeah!
@nicksmainbitch hopefully you enjoy i tried my best to do your request justice
a/n: this is so short i’m so sorry im working on so many series rn but i wanted to get a oneshot out feel free to hate me
love, sienna <3
“maybe you’re just too insecure to be in a relationship” Chris yells, releasing every ounce of anger he stored away with one simple sentence.
you feel frozen, feet planted heavily in the ground although you’re knees could give out at any moment. this conversation was not supposed to be happening, not here.
not when Chris was supposed to go film a video and especially not when you had a major final coming up—the stress of both things clearly manifesting it’s way into your relationship.
the fluorescent lighting of the boys room sends rays over your whole body, ironically making you feel like a spotlight is shining at you, egging you on to say something in reply—but you can’t.
your body reacts to his words before your brain does, a quivering lip and eyes full of tears that want nothing more than to pour out.
is this really how he saw you? some insecure fragile girl who’s not ready for a relationship?
maybe he’s not entirely wrong about the fragile part, because all you can do is cry, and as pathetic as it may be, it’s the only thing you have the strength for.
you and Chris have been fighting for the past few weeks, it started off as small snarky responses but developed into arguments that left an echo on practically the whole neighbourhood.
subconsciously, you hug yourself, wrapping your shaking hands around your waist to seek some comfort, even if your boyfriend is standing directly across from you.
for a second, you see a glimpse of pity in his eyes, something in his brain telling him for a split second telling him he’s in the wrong, but before he can walk over to replace your hands with his own you snap.
“do you think i’m stupid or something? is that what you genuinely think of me?” you attempt to raise the volume behind your voice but instead it comes out more croaky, more weak.
Chris starts defending himself, as he does far too often. “of course not y/n i just-“
“rachel. you’d rather spend time with fucking rachel than your own girlfriend.”
he’s silent, taking his own turn being dead frozen.
“maybe i am insecure, Chris, but at least im respectful enough to not cancel on my long term girlfriend for some girl i just met on fucking instagram” your sadness is replaced with anger when you lay everything out.
“you know, i had just finished fucking pouring my heart out into my journal about how you’re the one for me, about how i saw a forever with you, and then” you let out a petty laugh. “and then i go on instagram to see my boyfriend, Chris Sturniolo at boa steakhouse with some instagram influencer”
“she’s just a-“ he starts, ultimately getting cut off by your own anger yet again.
“do you know how embarrassing that is for me? going with with some friend to a fucking fancy steakhouse, the steakhouse you took us on our first date to?”
It really is insane when you lay it out like this, even when part of you felt like you were in the wrong, his wrongs outweighed any insecurities you had.
you let out a sigh, seemingly signalling the end to your anger because he begins speaking again. “i know what it looks like, i do. but it’s not like that and i don’t know how else to explain that to you, i think you just need to grow up and understand that i can have girl friends while you’re my girlfriend”
nope. no fucking way.
“i think you need to grow up and realize that you’re dumbass just lost any chance you had at saving this relationship, have fun with rachel” you turn away immediately, slamming his door behind yourself before he can’t even chase you down.
the walk up is uncomfortable, both of Chris brothers splayed out on the living room couch, ready to begin filming a funny car video while you’re walking up the stairs with a red, tear covered face.
they both look to you with sadness, and seemingly an understanding of your position, but their mouths remain closed as you quickly put your shoes on and walk out the door.
————————————————————————
it’s been a week.
you wish you could say you were doing amazing, ridding yourself of a toxic boyfriend and focusing on your own mental health but that was… far from the truth.
but instead you’re crying while watching 10 things i hate about you and eating ramen—not exactly the best way to show you’re the bigger person.
it’s pathetic. scrolling on instagram to constantly check what Chris is doing while you simultaneously have unfollowed him.
relationships are not easy, but deep down you know you’re in the right, you just wanted Chris back… before he met another girl.
you don’t know what made his priorities change. maybe that’s what hurt you the most.
what is it that made you unlovable, what is it that rachel did better than you.
no. you know this isn’t about some girl named rachel, you know this all stems from yourself.
the constant comparisons you made to any girl you deemed better than you, the way it never failed to make you feel terrible about the cards you were dealt.
it was hard enough to except the fact that Chris liked you to begin with, and on one of your many late night walks you had told him that, told him that sometimes you’re lack of self confidence can get the best of you.
and for majority of your relationship he was supportive of that, supportive of you.
so once again, what changed? was it him or was it you?
you let out a heavy sigh, stirring your noodles and lifting the fork to your face when you hear a knock on the door.
it takes a second for you to even comprehend the noise, racking your brain trying to figure out what you had ordered online when you were up till two am sobbing.
either way you need to answer, so you make the embarrassing walk to the door while still wrapped in your fuzzy blanket m, as it replaces an embrace you miss.
you make it down the stairs, expecting a package to be delivered at your doorstep, instead you see him.
he’s stood there, a journal in his hand and an insane look of sorry overtaking his blue irises.
“hi” he says simply, moments before you go to slam the door in his face, his hand being the only thing stopping it from latching onto the hinges. “wait, please” he’s fighting back tears of his own, not that you feel bad for him in the slightest.
“what do you want Chris? i have a romantic comedy to attend to since my life kinda lacks one right now” you say with an ounce of pettiness escaping your teeth.
“y/n please” he squeezes the book in his hand, clutching to it like his life depends on it. “can i come in?”
part of you wants to say no, most of you wants to say no, but he’s Chris, your Chris, and you hate seeing him sad regardless of how much he deserves it. “fine make it quick” you mumble, opening the door fully and walking over to plop yourself on the couch, the boy awkwardly following behind you, as if he is literally walking on eggshells.
he sits beside you, not getting to comfortable as your unwelcoming demeanour leaves him anxious next to you. “i uh” he coughs, sniffling his noise and shaking his mess of hair to the side. “i don’t want you to ever think i’d choose someone else over you, ever. because i couldn’t, i-“ he sighs, as you sit there at stare at him, unsure of how to feel. “i can’t imagine being with anyone else because i see a forever with you”
“did you tell this to rachel too?” your mouth speaks before your conscience can stop yourself.
“no obviously not i mean, i don’t even know what i was doing with her, it was dumb and i don’t even have an excuse for it but i never” he breathes. “i never wanted anything with her, it’s always gonna be you”
it’s silent for a second, you processing his words and him praying mentally you’ll give him another chance. “what’s with the book?” you ask, slightly less anger backing your tone as you gesture to the journal placed in his lap.
“are you gonna promise to not make fun of me?” he says, an innocent look plastered on his face, god you missed his face.
“i can’t promise anything but ill try” you say, smiling out of the fake frown you displayed for him.
he scratches his head. “Matt kinda told me to start journaling a while ago and i thought it was stupid but then when i met you i kinda had too many thoughts to keep in my brain and-“
you place a gentle hand on his bouncing knee. “take your time Chris it’s okay”
he could cry at the contact but he continues speaking, slower this time as per your request. “i needed to write down the overwhelming thoughts i was having about you because im so in love with you i can’t keep it to myself” he sighs. “but i want you to have this because it shows how perfect you are. i never want you to feel lesser than anyone else because to me you’re everything, and im sorry i lost track of that”
you could cry at his gesture alone but instead you lean in, closing the space between the two of you and returning to a pair of lips you’ve been craving for the past week.
he kisses back hesitantly, caught off guard by your sudden act of affection.
the rhythm at which your lips move has you in a trance, beginning as an innocent kiss and immediately becoming more passionate when your tongue explores his mouth, your teeth biting gently on his bottom lip as you pull off. “i missed you”
he smiles, the same dorky smile you missed creating on his lips. “can i make it up to you?” he asks, leaving you confused.
“you already did make it up to me” you say, his head dipping down to your neck before you get a chance to keep speaking, a soft whimper leaving your mouth instead. “oh”
he’s comfortable on your neck, his hands immediately taking the blanket off of your shoulders as he moves himself to hover of you, his knees digging into the rug on the floor. “wanna really make it up to you”
it’s hard for you to speak, his hands cupping your clothed chest giving them a light squeeze before you can say another word, his lips now placed softly on your own.
for a while you’re comfortable like this, but you need more—and by the way you squeeze your thighs together on the cushion, Chris can tell.
his fingers go to lift your sweater off, immediately exposing you to him. “you’re so beautiful” he mumbles, his mouth nod focusing on your nipples as you arch your back into the couch—his tongue swirling your bud and his hands rubs soft lines on your legs.
“missed you so much baby” he’s says quietly, his mouth now placing teasing kisses on your exposed stomach, causing you to inhale at the soft sensation.
his hands now tug at your sweats, a familiar set of eyes looking up at you to ask for permission, all you can mutter out is a quick. “please”
“yeah? you miss my mouth?” he says, causing you to roll your eyes before his hands pull down your sweats and your underwear at the same time, one swift motion leaving you on display for the boy below you.
he kisses your thighs while hands hands work to remove the fabric off of your ankles and it’s safe to say you’re getting impatient, your legs spreading above him the moment the fabric is done restricting you.
“aren’t you just needy” he chuckles, his hands traveling up your sides to make contact with your chest once more. “can i take my time?”
you nod, fighting back a moan as you feel his hot breath over your folds, teasing his entrance.
but instead of giving you what you’re practically begging for he take his hands and props your legs on the couch. “god i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this”
“then get to it” you joke, only receiving a delicate kiss to your inner thigh as a response.
your own hands immediately make their way to his hair, pushing away the strands that cover his face so you can see more of him.
he makes eye contact with you, kissing everywhere on your lower half expect where you’re aching for him. “chris i need-“
there it is.
he kisses your clit, eyes making contact with your own that you could melt under, his innocent gaze as he makes you feel everything but innocent.
it’s unfortunate how much he loves teasing you, especially with make up sex, because his tongue has yet to make contact with you.
“so prefect, just for me” he continues mumbling praises as his hands roam your body.
before you can argue you’re cut off by the contact you were craving, his tongue immediately encapsulating your clit into his mouth and twirling it in slow, sensual circles.
your knees threaten to cave in at the contact but his hands are quick to push them back out as he leaves open mouthed kisses on yourself as you squirm above him.
soon enough the muscle finds a rhythm to follow, flicking up and down at a more intense pace than before. “fuck Chris, so good” you moan out.
your eyes shut almost immediately, the feeling of his warm tongue causing an embarrassingly fast build up in your stomach. “mmm just like that”
you can feel his smile below you, but his tongue doesn’t let up, instead, he places a familiar finger in your soaked centre.
instinctively you arch into him, your body chasing the pleasure that is consistently building throughout your body.
the pace at which he’s moving is addicting, and with the addition of another finger curling into you, you’re a moaning mess.
the tips of his fingers reaching deep inside of you along with the pressure and speed at which is tongue glides on your clit is overwhelming. “baby im” you whimper again. “so close just for you”
that sentence alone was enough to have him speed up, increasing the intensity of his fingers and his tongue.
your hips rut into his face, his one hand still pushing your knee to keep you spread for him.
he doesn’t let out once, your mouth left in an o shape as the pleasure overtakes you, your stomach tensing into his touch as you release onto his fingers.
he pulls his fingers out, his mouth meeting your neck while the pads of his fingers rub your wet clit at a speed that has you dizzy, your legs shutting over his hand as he rocks you through your orgasam. “just like that there you go pretty girl, just for me” he mumbles, mindlessly sucking on your bare neck.
his hands stop when your own arms clutch onto him, signalling the sensitive became too much. “i love you so much and i’m so fucking sorry” you’re too out of breath to reply. “let’s get you cleaned up baby i wanna take you on a date”
a/n: i wrote this so fast bc i gotta go to work and i didn’t proofread (are we surprised) but yeah ily bye
taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @lacysturniolo @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @sturniolho @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @lovelottos
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Hello Dr Tingle! I wanted to ask you about that re: your post about how all your books are serious literature (hell yeah Love is real). How do you personally deal with the whole traditional publishing institution? It attracts a whole different level of coverage and it seems that they're very quick to try and box you and like turn you into a brand. Is it stiffling? Is it freeing? Does the attention help more people understand your trot? I don't know I've never been published but since you have experience in both traditional and self publishing I'm interested in knowing how that's feeling for you
well this is a pretty complex question with lots of different trots but i will try my best to answer. lets start with WHO I AM as buckaroo name of chuck
what i create has a very strong voice and my way is pretty recognizable. while buckaroos do not know what most authors look like, i REALLY stand out in a dang crowd with a big pink bag on my head. if you see 50 random author photos and mine is mixed in and then you ask 'which photo do you remember the most?' it is probably gonna be chuck. i also have a VERY UNIQUE STORY with what i create and my artistic sensibilities, not a lot of buds are out there making trans mothman erotica along with their big five traditional publishing bestsellers (SIDENOTE preorder BURY YOUR GAYS)
now if you were going to take 'CHUCK TINGLE' to a marketing department they would FALL OVER BACKWARDS IN THEIR DANG CHAIR with excitement. it is hard to think of an author with a stronger BRAND than i already have in the sense of 'instantly recognizable trot and specific unique style'. even in answering this you can tell that i dont even TALK like other dang authors.
what i am getting at is this: i am VERY VERY LUCKY because my existence just so happens to equate to what a company would see as GOOD BRANDING. it is not intentional on my part, it is just the hand of fate i guess. im out here expressing myself in a FULL ON WAY that is PRETTY DANG STRANGE TO SOME and it just so happens to work as mainstream branding too
on paper you might think 'what the heck no way chuck tingle will fly as a mainstream trot' but honestly the main thread of this timeline can be surprising sometimes. ive been saying the key ingredient for years and i will say it again: LOVE AND SINCERITY RESONATE. when you make art with this fuel, the timeline will feel it. when you stand up tall and shout with your whole chest THIS IS MY WAY AND I LOVE MYSELF. I AM THE WORLDS GREATEST AUTHOR TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, the timeline will listen
so all that said, i do not mind the idea of myself as 'brand' because i am not CHANGING myself to create this effect. what some might see as 'brand' i just see as another part of my art. i have always believed that art is THE WHOLE EXPERIENCE not just the painting but what is outside of the frame. WHO I AM is just as important as the books i write, and interacting with my way is a whole MULTIMEDIA experience that INCLUDES YOU TOO. it is the feeling when your friend shows you your first tingler cover, or the feeling when you realize that i am not playing a character. this is ALL a part of the tingleverse and it is all a part of my honest raw expression as a queer and neurodivergent buckaroo.
YOU ARE PART OF THIS ART TOO
it is my nature of have a PUNK ROCK trot. always has been. but to me that does not mean just angrily going against everything for the sake of going against everything. for me, this punk rock trot means fighting to EXPRESS MYSELF IN THE MOST HONEST AND PURE FORM POSSIBLE and to create the art that i want to make without any boundaries
somehow i have threaded the needle in this really interesting once-in-a-dang-lifetime kind of way. my pure punk rock self as an OUTERSIDER ARTIST just so happens to resonate with this larger system of brand and traditional publishing and popular culture. i COULD reject this, but rejecting it would be LESS HONEST.
this is just who i am. i LIKE pop culture. i LIKE joy. i LIKE dressing in all pink and wearing my custom suits. I LIKE PROVING LOVE IS REAL WHAT THE HECK ELSE EVEN IS THERE? i love being a queer outsider artist and using my small voice to shout at the big bad devils and i like that every time i shout a few more of you buckaroos join the chorus and together we are just getting louder and louder and louder and WHO KNOWS what comes next for us all trotting together.
when i post something like 'WHAT A GREAT DAY TO PROVE LOVE' it is not me sitting here in a bad mood thinkin 'well i gotta make todays post to keep up with my brand'. i am ACTUALLY FEELING THAT FEELING and i actually believe it with every fiber of my being. honestly, half the time i post about the beauty of this timeline i am probably over here literally crying tears of joy (chuck is an emotional bud i get riled over the joy of existence A LOT)
and heres the best part of this trot: because i really have this punk rock way it makes me very powerful. others can pretend not to care about success and brand and all that but I REALLY DO NO CARE. i would write tinglers whether buds were reading them or not, this is just my natural state, and that makes me incredibly strong. if some big corporation says 'YOU MUST DO THIS' and i dont want to do it i just say 'no thanks'. it is not some big debate about my career or anything like that because I REALLY DO NOT CARE IN THE SLIGHTEST. i care about the art
because of this, my relationship with my GIANT TRADITIONAL PUBLISHING MACHINE is great. we trot like equals and we get along really well. i tell them exactly what i want to do and they let me do it. i really do not have to answer to anyone and they deserve a huge amount of credit for respecting me in this way.
and heres the thing, THEY ALSO HAVE SOME GREAT IDEAS
SPECIFICALLY my imprint of NIGHTFIRE is very dang cool. yes, they are the head of a giant hydra of a BIG FIVE PUBLISHER, but nightfire is SO DANG ART-FOCUSED
there is no right or wrong way to be an artist, and my path is not the only one, but i can tell you what WORKS FOR ME. this is the advice i would give myself, and buckaroos can take it or leave it
here it is: never beg the big book publisher, or record label, or movie studio to pay attention to you
do not let it become a lotto ticket in your brain. do not think that you are some weak little creature and maybe if you trot just right they will scoop you up and take care of you. do not go to their door begging to be let in
LET THEM COME TO YOUR DOOR
create something so incredible and beautiful and honest and powerful and unique and important that they would be foolish to miss out. create a community or a system or a timeline or a world of imagination that thrives on its own and THEY SHOULD BE SO LUCKY TO BE A PART OF IT
then when you sit down at that board meeting it is not 'please brand me, ill do whatever you want'. instead, it is 'lets make a deal and see how much love we can prove together.'
now lets trot buckaroos
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period - 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶���𝗹𝗼
summary: you unexpectedly get your period after spending the night with chris, he does everything he can to make you feel better.
contains: mentions of blood, fluff, crying, swearing.
----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐------------———
chris and i have been dating for almost two months, i sleep over at his house often though, including last night.
9:46am
i'm rudely awakened by frantic tapping on my shoulder, i rub my eyes and roll over where i'm met with chris's distraught face. "hm..?" i groan out.
"y/n, are you okay" chris rambles, his vision flicks between my eyes and the matress.
"what..?" i mumble, my vision is still partially blurred from the sudden wake up.
"you're bleeding" chris says quietly, swallowing harshly.
i sit up, the matress is dotted with blood, along with the small pyjama set i wore last night.
my period has always been irregular, ever since i was about 12. i'd never know when it would come but i would just deal with it when it did.
my stomach sinks, my cheeks instantly flush from embarrassment, this is the kind of thing thats meant to happen 2 years into your relationship, not 2 months.
my eyes start to burn, im already an emotional person but now that this has just happened i don't think i can physically be okay.
"im so sorry chris." i say, my voice breaking.
chris clears his throat, i can tell he's slightly awkward about this.
the silence in the room grows, but is quickly cut short by a sob coming from me. chris's head snaps round to look at me, "oh fuck-.. no its okay!"
he gets out of bed, without a second thought he leans over the matress and picks me up in a bridal position. he speed walks to the bathroom, "look at me." chris says calmly as i cry into his shoulder, i tilt my head up and lock eyes with him. "don't cry sweetheart, it doesn't matter to me."
i nod with a sniffle, he places me down on two feet. "you wanna get in the bath?" chris says gently.
"yeah.." i say, my voice still wobbling.
i stand still with my hands by my side vulnerably. "you want me to.." chris whispers, keeping his eyes locked on mine. "if you dont mind.." i reply.
he reaches his hand out and peels my tank top off of my body, along with my shorts. he does it so nonchalantly its impressive.
chris has only seen me naked once, which was only a week or so ago after our first hookup.
he flicks the bath on, putting his finger under the stream to check the temperature before lifting me up and placing me down.
chris bends over and picks up the pyjamas, before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him. i throw my head back as soon as he goes "how did this happen." i groan to myself.
-
about 10 minutes has passed, the whole time i've just been trying to calm myself, crying about this isn't gonna make it any less embarrassing for me.
my head snaps to the side as i hear 2 soft knocks on the wooden door, "come in" i say with a forced smile, chris peeks his head round the corner with a sympathetic look. hes got a freshly folded pair of sweatpants and a hoodie in his arms, which he places down on the sink. "you okay?" he asks casually, sitting down on the side of the tub.
"i mean, i'm okay as i can be right now!" i smile warmly up at chris,
he reaches into his pocket and clears his throat "i found this downstairs, i think one of nick's friends left it here-..uh" chris murmmers, pulling a tampon out of his pocket.
"thank you chris, honestly i'm sorry about being a pain." i sigh, chris shakes his head "no you're good, promise."
"just gonna go make the bed, yeah?" chris sits up off the tub and walks out of the bathroom.
-
after getting myself together i open the door to the bedroom, chris is sitting on the bed, laying the pillows out strategically. i feel like a kid thats just thrown up, staring at my parent who just had to bathe me and clean the sheets.
he stands up and runs over to me full force, grabbing me around my waist and picking me up, earning a high pitched squeal from me. "chris!!" i screech as he flops down on the bed with me still in his arms.
"what can i actually do to repay you." i whisper into chris's chest.
"give me some awesome head next week."
"christopher."
----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐------------———
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rafe x crybaby!reader who cries and has a full on meltdown in front of rafe and his friends because he said no when she asked him to buy her this new expensive bag!🎀
ahhh i’m sorry i honestly hate the way i wrote this so much im so sorry i really hope you like it:< rafe is just a little mean but i mean come on! it’s rafe <3 im sorry i didn’t really make her have like a whole real big meltdown i just honestly couldn’t write it :<
‘DENIED’ the website reads, just as you were about to finish off your purchase for the new pink limited edition bag you had been eyeing. what? you frown, quickly jumping off your bed, slipping into your pink crocs— following the noise downstairs, knowing rafe and his friends were hanging out in the living room.
“rafe?” you call, giving a quick greeting to topper and kelce before sitting besides your boyfriend. “whys it say that?,” you ask, glittery gloss lips in a form of a halfway pout as you show your phone to rafe.
he leans in, taking a quick glance at it before a small chuckle leaves his lips. “you.. you uh.. really don’t remember?”
your brows furrow, head tilting. “what do you mean, ray?” confusion laced in your voice.
he looks away briefly before landing back at you. “well.. thanks to that little stunt you pulled on monday, i decided i won’t be paying for anymore of your little shopping sprees ‘till next week.” he states, lips smacking together.
“w-what?” you nervously giggle, cheeks starting to heat up.
it was safe to say, you weren’t used to rafe telling you no. every single thing you wanted or asked for was given to you in a few days thanks to express shipping.
you had got perfectly accustomed to the title of being rafe’s spoiled girlfriend. constantly skipping over prices and simply swiping his card. “i.. i thought you were only kidding, daddy.” you mumble softly, not wanting the boys to hear.
“i don’t kid about setting you straight, baby.” he says simply, your eyes already starting to burn.. embarrassment clouding your mind.
“but you already punished me!” you whine as quietly as you can, one of the small tears up in your eyes falls as you recollect the memory of when he had you bent over his lap, spanking you until your ass was practically engraved with his handprint.
“please daddy, it’ll already be sold out by next week,” you cry, trying to make him understand.
but he only looks away, shaking his head. “don’t you have enough purses anyway? bought you plenty already.” he continues, making more tears stream down your cheek at his reluctance.
you notice topper and kelce staring now, concerned with whatever it was you were crying about, looking to themselves with confused expressions. rafe however, was used to your dramatics.
“you’re just being mean, rafe! i already paid for my mistake.” you plead, grabbing his hands and squeezing them lightly.
topper clears his throat, clearly feeling uncomfortable with the whole situation. kelce hides a small smirk, but pretends not to hear the ordeal anyway.
rafe couldn’t care less for the audience, always loving when he had any spotlight with the way he handled you. an opportunity to flaunt the power dynamic between you two.
rafe puts on a faux pout, even making a small “awe” sound as he moves one hand to wipe your tears. “oh i’m being mean, really? that.. that supposed to make me cave in, hm? let you run along and think every single punishment isn’t serious?”
he was so cruel you thought, his mocking pulling at your heart in a negative way. “hey, stop crying, okay? you know im not doing this for fun. these are consequences to your actions.” he prompts, every tear that falls on your cheek being wiped by his hands.
“p-please, just this once..” you mewl. “i promise i wont ask for another bag for awhile, promise! i’ll be real good.” you beg.
maybe it was the way your sad eyes looked at him, or the way your manicured hand squeezed his own, or maybe he just wanted you to stop bugging him, thinking about the blow job he’d ask for later— or maybe it was simply cause he had grown soft. but regardless, he still bites his lips and nods. “alright fine— i’ll buy it now so it doesn’t sell out, but when it comes you’re gonna give it me to hold it until next week still.” he tells you, filling in his card information on the site.
“r-really? oh thank you!” you squeal, giving him a tight hug. “mhm, better be.”
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megumi's demon dogs cuddling with reader and satoru gets jealous 🤭
“you’re just doing this on purpose.”
“leave us alone, satoru. or better yet, go get us a snack. i think there’s some jerky in the pantry.”
satoru sighs and walks to the kitchen counter, where megumi is attempting to write a report. “megumi,” satoru says, his voice trying to be rough. “release them.”
megumi doesn’t even look at him. “why? they’re playing.”
“they’re stealing my wife.”
“we’re not married!” you call, and resume cooing at the dog on your lap.
“megumi, im lost without her. i might die. don’t you want to help me?”
“not really.”
satoru scoffs, leaning against the counter, on top of megumi’s papers. “i’m the reason you have them, you know.”
“i don’t use your shadows for summoning,” megumi retorts, trying to push him off.
“why not? they’re probably better than everyone else’s.”
“i don’t trust you.”
satoru remains where he is, pouting.
“satoru,” you call, from the couch, “let megumi do his homework.”
“yeah, satoru,” megumi says, pulling his hair.
“it’s papa to you.”
megumi mimes throwing up. then he pinches satoru’s ear, which is evil and who knows who taught him that? (you did).
“go away, gojo.”
“they’re probably tired,” satoru whispers. “you should give them a break.”
“don’t!” you say, laughing when one of them licks your face.
satoru watches, a devastating frown on his face.
“you’re so sweet,” you’re telling them, in a voice satoru doesn’t think he’s ever heard you use. “how’d you get so sweet?”
if satoru was a dog, his tail would probably wag at just the sound of your voice too.
he’s never wanted to hurt an animal more.
“hey,” megumi pokes satoru’s cheek. “can you move?”
“not until you give me my wife back.”
“she’s just petting them.”
“she’s neglecting me.”
“if you grow some fur, i’ll pet you too,” you tell satoru, still not paying any attention to him.
“what about my beautiful skin?”
“meh. overrated.”
“just say you hate me.”
you roll your eyes but you still haven’t looked at satoru, or smiled at him, or told him that you love him today.
how is he supposed to go on like this? the kids were trouble enough. now he has to fight two dogs?
“megumi, what if i give you—“
“i told you to stop bribing the children,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “i already told him, yes i did,” you say to the dogs, voice full of fake sympathy.
“i don’t want your money anyway.”
“how about my love and affection?”
megumi raises an eyebrow, his face far too amused for satoru’s liking.
“tsumiki would never treat me like this.”
“you can go pick her up,” you tell him. “just say that you missed her. she’ll probably be fine with you dragging her away from her friends because you’re jealous and lonely. most teenagers wouldn’t mind that.”
megumi laughs.
“i don’t deserve this.” satoru stands up, huffing at both of you, and walking down the hall towards his room. “i’m gonna find a home where im appreciated.”
you coo again. “good luck! ask them to send us some snacks.”
satoru groans, leaning against the wall.
“can we really send him away?” megumi asks you as soon as he thinks satoru is gone.
“mmm,” you pretend to think about it. “it’d be a hard sell.”
“i can make the posters.”
at that, satoru turns right around, bursting back into the room with a scoff. but before anyone can say anything, he walks over to where you are on the couch and falls on your lap.
“ugh, satoru,” you say, groaning as you adjust to his body weight on yours.
“you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
you roll your eyes, but resume your petting—this time it’s satoru at your will, though. he basically purrs into your touch. “i knew it was too good to be true.”
“should i still make that ad or…”
satoru throws a pillow at him in retaliation and you just shake your head. but it doesn’t seem to matter who you’re petting, as long as there’s someone there.
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❝i hope i was your favorite crime.❞ || coriolanus snow x f!reader
| request- hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.
| A/N- i wanted so bad to make sooooo angsty but i fought the demons. def ooc everybody besides festus. fuck you festus. hope you like it as much as i do 🫶🏻
| WARNINGS- alcohol consumption, creepy men, bad fathers (relatable), nice coriolanus snow, festus creed (he deserves a warning), eating, making out, traumatized sejanus (im sorry sejanus i love you)
the eldest plinth daughter. not an heir, but something you’d want to marry into. if you could get her, you’d never need to do anything again in your life. coriolanus knew that, he reveled in that. he’d never met her, all the times he went over to the plinth’s apartment she was either out or the door to her bedroom was tightly locked- not accepting visitors.
he wondered what she did with her time, was she in university? sejanus seems to never talk about his sister unless someone asks. but yet here she was. a floor length silver dress caught coriolanus’ eye, turning his head to follow the figure. she stood tall and confidently next to her brother. his eyes cascaded over the entire family, all in the same tantalizing silver. they were brightly shining in the ballroom of the benefit. it’d be hard to ignore them. he hated that.
he studied her, they way he could almost see a resemblance to sejanus but feeling as if he’s grasping at straws. her left hand holding a champagne glass she hasn’t drank from, and her right hand resting on sejanus’ shoulder. she’s nodding along to whatever nonsense pup harrington is spitting at her, no doubt making a pass.
she excuses herself and points at her glass, which is now empty after having to listen to the poor boy. when she reaches the full glasses lined up on the table coriolanus makes his move. “hello, ms.plinth.” her head turns to him and her eyes narrow. “coriolanus snow. my brothers supposed best friend- where’s tigris? i like her.” she quickly downs the glass and reaches for another. coriolanus can feel the disdain for him leaking out of her pores.
“she’s, um, she’s back at home. with grandma’am. she is quite nice to be around, isn’t she? how are you enjoying your night?” he attempts to flip the conversation back to her- oh wait, she’s not even looking at him anymore. her eyes find sejanus’ as he’s talking to livia cardew, and she begins walking in his direction. “nice talking to you, coriolanus.” but he felt like it definitely wasn’t nice. was he wanting to marry her for her money? yes. but was she also beautiful and apparently quite funny, as ma plinth has said? also yes.
she spent the rest of night collecting champagne glasses and not leaving sejanus’ side. even he was beginning to get bothered by the bachelors approaching his sister. she leaned against the back wall, yes, another glass in hand. she’d gotten roped into a conversation with festus, clearly tortuous. coriolanus was standing with sejanus about a foot away, so sejanus could keep and eye on festus.
“it’s just so frustrating, coryo! all these guys coming up and trying to make a pass at my sister while i’m right there, if i didn’t know any better i would’ve taken pup harrington outside. you should’ve heard some of the stuff he was saying to her. it’s horrible.” sejanus rants while staring at festus. “well, she’s gonna have to get married eventually, sejanus.” coriolanus says with a slight smile to his bestfriend.
“i know that, just none of these guys. we’ve been everyday with them at the academy. you know how bad they are, the shit they say about women in general. i don’t want those guys with her.” it’s obvious he’s quite over protective of her, even though she’s three years older than him. coriolanus nods along with him and pats his back.
“i’ll go save her.” coriolanus comforts his friend and makes his way to festus. “sejanus said he needed your opinion on some ideas for the food, seemed urgent.” she nods and offers a knowing smile to coriolanus. festus leans his head on the wall “man! i really felt like i was getting somewhere with her” coriolanus rests a hand on his shoulder. “trust me, you definitely weren’t.”
the party has picked up and died down, everyone sitting to eat but coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out where she was. she wasn’t sitting with her family and unless she had friends he didn’t know, he couldn’t see her anywhere. he’d made his way outside to take a breather from all the talking and hugging old people who knew his parents.
that’s when his eyes laid upon the girl in the silver dress, and he took a seat next to her on the steps. she’s staring out into the gardens and her eyes are glazed over. no champagne glass in her hand this time. she doesn’t turn to look at him.
“i’m really drunk right now and i hate almost everyone in there. all they care about is money and those stupid hunger games.” she confided in him and rested her chin on her arms that are wrapped around her knees. “yeah, you didn’t look like you were having a great time. i tried counting how many glasses you had but i lost count after ten.” she lightly laughed and shook her head.
“i think it was thirteen but i’m not sure, i drank four while festus was chirping in my ear about how many children he wanted.” she feigned chills at the mention of his name and they laughed. she turned to look at him with a barley noticeable smile “you’re not like them, are you? you’re more like sejanus. quiet and doesn’t bother women they want to marry.” the comparison of sejanus would normally upset him, but coming from her it felt the highest compliment a man could receive.
she rubbed her hands over her arms to conserve warmth and coriolanus quickly removed his blazer to wrap around her and she muttered a small thanks. resuming her staring at the gardens. “would you like to grab you some water? or something to eat? it’s not gonna be very good for you tomorrow morning if you don’t eat something.” he whispers towards and she nods her head.
as coriolanus is walking back in, the plinths are walking out. “hey coryo. we’re heading home for the night as ma doesn’t feel too well, have you seen-“ coriolanus points outside “she’s on the steps, make sure she eats something when you get home. way too much champagne for a human.” seianus claps his hand against coriolanus’ chest and continues outside.
the sun is battering down on the capitol but the plinths home is cooler than a beautiful spring day, probably for the hungover girl inside. coriolanus knocks on the door and smiles as his eyes meet ma’s. “oh! coriolanus, it’s so good to see you. we didn’t talk much last night. come in! i just finished up some pies!” she ushers him inside as sejanus joins them in his mothers corner of the kitchen.
after the grueling and quite long conversation with ma coriolanus excused himself. sejanus seemingly interested in this new sugar ma had found. as coriolanus rounded the corner to her room, he stopped. suddenly feeling quite nervous and as if he might throw up. her bedroom door opened and her eyes meet his, he looks down and she’s holding his blazer out. “i heard you talking to ma, here this.” her calloused tone returns, maybe she only likes him she’s drunk. he better find a lot more champagne.
the plinth family plus coriolanus are sitting in the sun room, drinking iced tea and munching on whatever treats ma had baked. “so, coriolanus, do you have any plans on getting married after university?” strabo’s deep and rough voice cut over his wife’s story.
coriolanus set his tea down “i’d hope so, certainly.” his eyes skip between strabo and his daughter. she’s sitting with her knees pulled up to chest and she’s looking out the window. “well you know how much we’d love to have you in the family, we could arrange your marriage with-“ she sets her cup down harshly and stands up.
“you always do this! could you just leave me alone? maybe i don’t want to get married, ma said it was fine if i didn’t marry.” she’s waving her hands around and waits for him to answer. when she’s met with silence she storms out and slams the sunroom door. “strabo, you can’t make her marry someone she doesn’t love.” someone she doesn’t love.
coriolanus stands up and thanks them for the tea. “tigris wanted to head to the market and i’d never let her go alone, i’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”
he walks by her door and tries the handle, quietly. he fully expected it to be locked but the door swings open and she’s laying face down on the bed. “sejanus, go away.” she grumbled through her mattress. “it’s not sejanus.” she sighs and sits up, staring at him.
“do you not knock before entering a room?” she tilted her head and studied him. “i expected it to be locked, sorry. i’ll knock next time.” his eyes seem to gravitate towards the floor and he can’t will himself to bring them back up.
“i’m sorry about my father. i’m sure it made you very uncomfortable, he’s just always trying to marry me off.” her hands fidget awkwardly in her lap. “i wasn’t too uncomfortable, any guy would be lucky to marry you. i always heard that you were quite mean, i’ve yet to see that.”
she scoffed and turned her head to the window. “they only say that because i don’t hesitate to speak my mind. i taught sejanus that. i am definitely what they call me, but only to them.” why does she feel so comfortable spilling her guts to him?
“i saw you and sejanus’ sister a few minutes ago, coriolanus. are you willing to deal with her grating voice and attitude for the plinths money?” arachne sneers towards him and the group laughs. “it helps that she’s pretty, it’s already hard enough trying to talk to her.” coriolanus regrets it the second it escapes his mouth.
she liked him. she really did like coriolanus snow, but who doesn’t? she weaved her way through the crowd trying to escape him. he was hot on her trail until he catches up to her in one of the various bedrooms inside the ravinstalls estate.
“do you think i’m stupid, coriolanus? be honest.” he scrambles to find the words but his brain couldn’t function in the one moment he desperately needed it. “i said you were different, i talked to you about things i liked, i would tell ma all about you. but you aren’t different, you’re just like the others.” he ran his hand through his hair. “i was different, i am different. i don’t know why i said that, it just came out. i didn’t mean it, i promise.”
he attempted to take her hand but she ripped out of his grasp and stomped out of the room. shit.
the next day her door was locked. and the next. and the next. he wasn’t even sure she was there anymore. sejanus hasn’t mentioned anything but he wished he would. he wished he would tell him if she was okay or if he majorly screwed up.
as coriolanus and sejanus sit in the sunroom attempting to study, there’s a knock on the door. coriolanus cranes his neck to see festus ravinstill standing there with a bouquet of flowers. god, this kid is tragic. but then he sees you, take the flowers with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. strabo’s never looked happier.
coriolanus suffered in silence watching festus become a daily guest and drowning out sejanus’ complaints about him being there. for once in his life, he agreed with sejanus. when he enters the kitchen to refill his glass of lemonade he sees her watering the plants in the kitchen.
“don’t marry him. he won’t be good to you.” she drops her head and turns to him. “and you would?” she spits back sending him into a whirlwind. “yes.” he whispers out and she takes a few steps closer to him. “festus is nice and fathers happy with this. i don’t have another choice, coriolanus. i have to do this” how does she always sound so sure of herself? maybe coriolanus could take a class from her.
their eyes finally meet, after weeks of not seeing her eyes, she’s finally looking at him. “you could marry me, instead. i wouldn’t treat you like a prize, like festus would.” she steps impossibly closer and he feels like he can’t breathe when she’s around. oxygen becomes molasses and his knees become jelly.
she looks over coriolanus’ shoulder and stands up on her toes to kiss him. he takes a moment to catch on but he his hands find purchase on her waist and he leans down. all nerves thrown out the window and all he can think of is her, how she tastes, how she smells, he can’t even remember who festus is.
her hands wind his curly hair around her fingers as she swipes her tongue against his own and he pushes her against the refrigerator, causing a few magnets to fall onto the floor. his hands are trailing up and down the waist of the yellow dress she had decided to wear that day.
festus had left the plinths the second he saw her look at him over coriolanus’ shoulder. knowing he lost and there’s nothing he could’ve done.
she pulls back, panting. “i’ll marry you, just don’t call me annoying again.” her lipstick is smeared across both of their mouths and he gives her a dopey smile. “i wouldn’t dream of it” he brushes stray hair out of her face.
“in the kitchen?! we make food there!” sejanus is standing in the doorway, seemingly traumatized. “sorry, sej.” he shakes his head walking away but throwing a secretive thumbs up at coriolanus.
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baby trapping bfb!rafe omg 😖. it would most definitely be an accident, but now you could finally claim him. you weren’t so opposed to the fact of getting pregnant with his baby beforehand, but because sarah was genuinely your friend, you made sure not to for the time being.
now rafe? he’d be so mad yet happy at the same time. he was very reluctant to even take off the condom off with you, and this seemed like the consequence to his actions.
“right there!” you moaned out as he hit the perfect spot inside of you.
“yea? right there?” he’d taunt, smirking down at the position he had you in. he pulled out for a second which almost made you cuss him out, but then lifted one of your legs in the air and held it by the back of your thigh, plowing his way back in again.
this made your eyes roll so far back you were almost positive they got stuck for a hot minute.
“that’s the spot, huh baby?” he’d lean over and say into your ear. not being able to form words, all you could do was nod. but there was something you desperately wanted from all this.
he’d been folding you up, throwing you around and switching positions all night. and he knew exactly how you liked it. it’s like he could seriously do no wrong. all though this whole situation was wrong, you still seemed to forget that this was your friends brother. someone who’s supposed to be off limits.
but we can’t help who we like, right?
he definitely didn’t care though, matter of fact, his dirty talk never stopped about it. “yea? that feel good being fucked by your friend’s brother? imagine if she saw us now. shit, i finally wouldn’t have to hide my girl.”
and he just continues.
“yea rub that clit baby. soak this cock.”
“keep taking it baby, know you can.”
“let go baby, cum all over it.”
as soon as he felt your release, his came up not too long after.
“shit, you feel too good. gonna make me blow mine soon.” this right here is when you ask for whatever, knowing how easy it is for them to say yes when they’re balls deep, seconds away from nutting.
“inside me? please!” you’d grab onto his shoulders, while his arms were now pressing your hip down into the bed.
his movement doesn’t slow, but his face says the answer as well as his words. “you know we can’t. convincing me to go raw wasn’t enough?”
“i just wanna feel you… all full inside me.” you’d say, almost choking on your words the way he’s still milking out your orgasm.
“i’ll cum in your ass. how about that?”
“s’not the same! please, rafe. just once?”
he doesn’t answer for a little bit, but the way his face starts to scrunch up, he was bound to cum in a few seconds.
“fine,” he finally says. “better fuckin take it all.”
right after that, his hot and heavy flow streams right into you, making your brain feel like complete mush.
after a few moments of just laying there, he pulls out and lays down next to you, pulling your head into his chest. “won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon with a pussy like that.” he chuckles, & you playfully hitting his chest.
—
the only thing that brought you was a world full of trouble. because here you are now, sitting on the toilet with a nauseous stomach, and positive stick in your hand to top it off. this most definitely was not supposed to happen, but you didn’t feel that bad about it either.
taking a picture of it in your hands, you sent it to rafe then put your phone down and held your stomach again. you didn’t even need that pregnancy test. the way you were throwing up buckets confirmed it by itself.
not even 5 minutes later, he texts you back.
“didn’t i tell you it was a bad idea? now how are you gonna tell sarah, cus im not.”
now that was definitely something you weren’t thinking about in the heat of the moment.
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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
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a/n: hi everyone! i wanted to write a story w friends to lovers trope so here it is! im not sure if this will be an ongoing series, ill just have to see where it goes!! this kinda sucks im sorryyy i haven’t written in a while ive been so busy w school </3
cw: toxic!ellie, situationship abby???, tipsy sex, fingering (r receiving), violence?, kinda public sex, honestly badly written + not proofread😭lmk what else!!
WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN
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it was a normal friday, you had just got home from classes and were getting ready to go to a kickback with your friends to drink the stress of finals away. you were going with your friends dina, jesse, and your roommate ellie. all of you became friends during your freshman year of college, you and ellie deciding to room together. you were just finishing up your makeup, and you got up to change, beginning to take your robe off, when your door flies open.
“hey, y/n i-“ she makes eye contact with you as you quickly attempt to cover yourself, your robe already halfway off. “shit- i’m- i’m sorry! i didn’t see anything! i swear i-“ why was she still standing there?
“get out!! go!” you say, clearly embarrassed. she turns around, clearly flushed. you become extremely red, but remember this isn’t the first time she’s walked in on you getting dressed. or the second, or the third..
you walk out of your room, wearing a simple outfit of a tank top and shorts. you meet eyes with ellie, who looks you up and down, seeing what you’re wearing. it was like everything was quiet. you’ve had a crush on ellie since you met her, but you’d always assumed she didn’t like you back since she was bringing in a new girl every week. she was wearing a blue flannel with a white tank top under, paired with a pair of jeans. you couldn’t help but admire her, and wonder what she looked like under her-
“y/n!! i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages!!”
your trance is broken by dina, who runs up to you, giving you a big hug. you hug her back, closing your eyes and smiling a huge smile. the four of you haven’t hung out in ages. most of your nights consisted of either studying, or smoking with ellie and watching whatever dumb movie was playing at the time. the two of you let go, and you walked up to give jesse a hug as well.
“god it’s been so long since we’ve all been together!” you say, letting go of jesse. “is everyone ready?”
“yeah, we’ve been waiting on the princess to finish getting ready.” ellie says, sarcastically. you roll your eyes as jesse grabs his keys and the four of you head out to the car. dina immediately takes her spot up front, leaving you and ellie in the back. “can i have aux?” ellie says before the car is even on.
the four of you arrive at the party shortly after, everyone arguing on what music to play. jesse gets out first and goes to open dina’s door for her. “you’re cooked, jesse.” ellie says, laughing. “hey! i think its cute.” you argue back. ellie just looks at you and rolls her eyes, laughing, as she gets out of the car.
the party wasn’t full, nothing crazy. you walk in first, immediately beelining to the drinks. you bump into a large, blonde hair girl.
“woah, you good?” you meet eyes with the women’s hockey teams star player, abby anderson. you notice her hands are on your waist, steadying you before you fell.
“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you laugh.
“don’t worry about it, what’s your name gorgeous?” she says with a smirk. you look around, and see ellie already chatting it up with a ditsy girl. if she can have fun, why can’t you?
“y/n, and you are?” you knew the answer to this, everyone did. but you ddint wanna seem like a stalker for knowing her name when she didn’t know yours.
“abby. are you here with anyone?” she asks, scanning around the room. you hardly even notice when her hands leave your waist, steadying herself on the counter.
“oh, just my friends. i split away to grab a drink.” you slightly turn to pour a random bottle into one of the red solo cups stacked on the counter.
she laughs, watching you. “a pretty girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. it makes you blush, downing the liquor for some liquid courage.
“oh i don’t- i don’t really like guys..” you giggle. she raises her eyebrows.
“oh, so i do have a chance?” she replies, taking a sip from her cup. “do you wanna head up to my room?”
you look over to jesse and dina, they’re dancing to whatever shitty house music is playing. then to ellie, who’s clearly already had a few drinks, chatting it up with two girls now.
“sure, let’s go!”
abby grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd. you can’t help but love how big her hand is in yours, how she led you through the crowd saying hi to almost everyone. you almost make it to the stairs when you hear a commotion, and abby is shoved away from you.
“the fuck are you doing anderson?”
it’s ellie.
what’s her problem? she has girls at her disposal and she’s worried what you’re doing?
“don’t start shit at my party, ellie.” she says back, getting closer and towering over her. you knew abby and ellie didn’t get along that good, ellie always told you it was because abby was cocky and spoiled, but clearly it was more than that. “what’s your deal?”
“my deal is that you’re trying to treat her like she’s one of your sluts, she’s probably drunk and you’re taking advantage of her!” ellie barks back, slurring her words. this makes abby angrier, and you have to step in.
“ellie, it’s not that big of a deal. i said yes, im barely tipsy. can you let us be?” you didn’t realize your words sounded a little rude, but it didn’t matter. you knew this, with abby, was only gonna be a simple fuck and nothing more. she glares at you, grabbing your hand and trying to drag you out of the house. you try to resist her, but she’s stronger. “ellie, let go!”
suddenly, abby shoves ellie hard. “she said let the fuck go, ellie!” ellie’s expression changed. she looked infuriated. she drops her drink and punches abby in the face. “oh you fucked up.” abby says getting ready to punch ellie. you shove ellie away, telling abby to find you on instagram, that you’ll text her and that your sorry. you begin practically dragging ellie out. dina and jesse stop you before you can leave.
“what the fuck happened?” dina says, looking at the clearly pissed ellie.
“i’ll tell you when we get home, im just gonna call an uber, go home, and sober her up.”
“you sure you don’t want a ride? we don’t mind i-“ jesse says.
“no, it’s fine. i’ll text you guys when i get home.” you go to leave, pushing ellie out and ordering and uber.
the ride home was quiet. the uber didn’t even make small talk as usual. the air felt so thick you could cut it with a knife. finally, you stop at your house, thanking the uber driver, and go around to ellie’s side to help her get out.
“i don’t.. i don’t need your fucking help.” she snaps. you roll your eyes and continue to help her, dragging her inside and pushing her on the couch. “god, what’s your problem?”
you don’t know why she was acting so mean. true, she had a few drinks, but she didn’t usually act this this when drunk.
“what’s your fucking problem ellie? i mean, god, can i not make my own decisions?” you snap, going to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. “you fuck a new girl every week, sometimes two, and i can’t do it once?” you take the shot. “what are you so mad about?” you shout, going to pour yourself another.
you hear her shift a little on the couch. “nothing, i don’t have a problem.” you audibly laugh, she’s being ridiculous! you down another drink, closing the bottle. it makes you cough and gag a little.
“if you didn’t have a problem, you wouldn’t have fucking punched abby for talking to me.” you start to go to your room, wanting to sleep it off.
“stop.” she says. you do as she says, you don’t know why but you do. “sit down.”
you walk over to the opposite side of the couch and sit down. she sits up from her laying position.
“i just.. she has fucked almost every girl at school. i don’t want you being one of those girls.” you burst out laughing, not believing what’s being said to you right now.
“are you serious, ellie?” you look at her in disbelief. “you do the same thing as her! i knew it was gonna be a simple fuck, i knew that and i didn’t care! so fucking what if a girl has some built up tension, am i not allowed to release it how i want? god, you’re immature.”
she stares at you blankly, before pulling you in and giving you a hug.
“you’re better than that, y/n.” she says into your shoulder. “if you needed it that bad i’d rather you come to me than an ass like her, god at least we know each other.”
what?
you sit there in disbelief as she continues to hug you.
“ellie, what? do you even know what you’re saying?” you stare at her as she begins to pull away.
“y/n, i..” she trails off, just staring at you.
“you need to go to sleep.” you say flatly, getting up, tossing her a blanket, and going to your room. you didn’t wanna deal with this now, and hoped it was all just some fucked up dream and everything would be normal in the morning. ellie would be back to her playful self, the two of you back to being best friends. you get in your bed, too lazy to undress and take off your makeup, and drift off to sleep.
the next weeks were completely different. ellie hardly talked to you, and she was bringing more and more girls home almost every night. she stayed out until the early morning, waking you up with the moans of the girls in her bed.
it made you sick.
you hardly ever saw her, either. she’d try her best to avoid you, but the rare occasion where you’d turn a corner and bump into her only made her turn away back into her room.
regardless, you decided to have your own fun. you’ve been texting abby off and on, and the two of you only got so far as making out at parties, parties ellie was at. the two of you would make eye contact whilst your mouth was in abby’s, hers in another girl. but why should you care? she was the one avoiding you. she was the one who said you should just be friends with benefits.
you were studying when you get a text on your phone.
abs: hey, i’m throwing a kickback tn, u coming right?
you sit for a minute, wondering if this is really what you need.
y/n: ummm idk what kind
like crazy or chill
abs: chill
just a few friends
u can bring dina n jesse if u want
you contemplate, and decide it won’t hurt anything if you go. you type abby your reply and inform jesse and dina.
abs: starts at 9 don’t be late
y/n:🙄
you start getting ready, it’s only 7 so you don’t have to hurry. you decide to fuck with abby a little, and put on a tight dress she won’t be able to resist. you start on your makeup when you hear the loud moans coming from your roommates room. you try to ignore it, try to focus on your makeup, but it’s so damn loud. you stand up, frustrated, and march to ellie’s room. you raise your hand, about to pound the door and tell her to knock it off, when you hear something.
“y/n.. fuck- ugh” it’s ellie. there’s not another girl in there. it’s her making the noise. you can’t help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks hearing that. you think about breaking her door down, but you’re frozen listening to her whimpers and pleads. “fuck- put my- kids.. fuck!!”
“ellie…?” you softly knock on her door. it feels like all the sound from the world has been removed. “ellie, you okay..?”
you hear shuffling. “just- what? do you need something?” she sounds annoyed, scattered.
“i heard you saying my name i just-“
she swings open her door. she’s messy, her hair is ruffled and sweat beads on her forehead. “what do you want?”
you just sit there and stare at her in disbelief. her cheeks are a bright shade of pink and she’s slightly out of breath. her smell is intoxicating.
“i just heard you say my name and.. wanted to see what was up..” you trail off. she doesn’t say or do anything, just stares at you.
“where are you going?” she asks, as if she wasn’t just caught moaning your name.
“oh um.. abs is throwing a little get together..” you say coyly.
“and you’re wearing that?” she snaps back. why was she so upset?
“look ellie- i don’t get what your fucking problem is-“
“i’m going, let’s go.” she says bluntly.
“ellie, you’re not even invited, it’s a small thing.”
“so? i know jesse and dina too, im not gonna be your little plus one. cmon ill drive us.”
rolling your eyes and arguing with her as you follow her to her bike, she hands you a helmet. “relax, y/n. what’s she gonna do?” she hops on and you follow behind her, climbing on the bike and wrapping your arms around her. “hold on tight.”
when the two of you eventually arrived after you pleaded with ellie to stay back, abby looked pissed. the night consisted of a few drinks, dina and jesse cuddling on the couch, and eventually leading to a game of truth or dare.
you were sat right next to abby, her arm around you, and ellie across the living room. it was small, only about 20 people. you were shocked abby even allowed ellie to be here, she barely even paid mind.
“abby, truth or dare?” you hear an unfamiliar girl ask.
“dare.” she says, almost as to impress you.
“i dare you to…” she looks around for a moment. “kiss alexis.”
the room got quiet, all eyes on abby. everybody know alexis and abby used to fuck on the low, but people assumed you were with her now. abby wasted no time getting up and almost making out with her, making you annoyed and your stomach churn.
“i’ll be right back, gonna get a drink.” abby says, getting up and going to the kitchen. the atmosphere was off.
“um, yeah me too.” alexis says, running after abby. “abby, can we talk?” you hear her say in a whisper.
“umm.. okay fine, ellie then, truth or dare?” a random guy asks ellie.
“dare.” she says whilst eyeing you.
“play 7 minutes in heaven with y/n”
you shoot dina a look, and start nervously looking around the room at everyone. ellie gets up from her seat, walks over to you, and practically drags you to abby’s half bathroom, shutting and locking the door. the two of you are mere inches away, smelling the alcohol on her. you had a few drinks, giving you a little liquid courage.
you two are so close, and the air almost feels thick, hard to breathe. she’s leaning against the wall, just staring at you and waiting for you to do something.
“we doing this or not?” you say bluntly to her. immediately, she grabs your face and starts making out with you roughly, catching you off gaurd and causing a moan to slip through your lips. she pushes you against the counter and lifts you onto it, placing herself between your legs. it’s too intimate, whenever you’d pull away, the two of you would make eye contact before smashing your faces together once again. you’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be one of the girls on the other side of ellie’s door, to be the one ellie makes whimper and scream.
“what the fuck is going on in there?” you hear abby shout, followed by dozens of knocks. ellie doesn’t stop, though, and only becomes more aggressive, grabbing onto your thighs. she pulls away for a moment.
“does your little girlfriend make you wet from just a kiss?” she says, staring into you. “i can feel it against my jeans, doll.” the loud bangs from abby are drowned out and all you can hear is your guys’ breathing. “tell me, y/n. does she make you feel the way i do?”
“no, no els she doesn’t.” you pull her back into a kiss as she reaches her hand underneath your dress, and discovers you’re not wearing any underwear.
“dirty slut, you knew this’d happen huh?” she doesn’t waste time before one of her fingers begins pumping into you. “you’re mine right? tell me.” she adds another. you feel dizzy, it’s too intimate. i mean, you were here with abby, now you’re getting fingered by your best friend?
“els i…” the pounding on the door only grew louder and louder, your heart racing. her index and middle fingers pumped into you at a rapid pace, her palm grinding against your clit. you wrap your arms around ellie’s neck, pulling her closer. “this.. this is wrong..” you want to pull away, you want to shove her off and open the door for abby.
right?
“do you want me to stop, y/n?” she says before kissing along your neck. “tell me to stop and i’ll stop.” she continues to pump her long fingers into you. “do you want me to stop or do you wanna cum on my fingers while your little girlfriend is trying to rip me to shreds?”
“f-fuck… fuck- no dont, don’t stop ellie.” she uses her free hand to hold your face and forces you to look at her.
“atta girl.”
“ellie i swear to fucking god i’m gonna kick your ass!” the door is on the verge of breaking, splintering sounds coming from the door. all the tension is pushing you further and further to the edge, ellie overtaking all your senses. you’re drunk on her. every pump of her fingers into your hole and rub against your clit by her palm only pushes you further and further, and she can tell.
“y’gonna cum? cum all over my hand, cmon give it to me.” she whispers. her pace speeds up and one, two, three more pumps and you’re coming undone on her, biting her shoulder and squeezing her neck tightly to muffle your moans. “there we go, that’s my girl. my fucking pussy.” she says, working you through your orgasm. you feel like you’re in a trance, like the world stopped for a moment.
that moment ended with a loud CRACK coming from the door.
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