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#beyond answers masterlist
l4long-winded · 5 months
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s e r i e s m a s t e r l i s t
r e a d o n a o 3
summary: your upstairs neighbor is a pain to deal with for several reasons. not only does he annoyingly play his violin at all hours of the day, but he's also rude and patronizing. what makes matters worse is how he soon requires your help in a case he's working on. or, in other words, the five times sherlock holmes deduced you and the one time he was wrong (cavill!sherlock x afab!reader)
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warnings: enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, condescending!sherlock, seamstress!reader, denial of feelings, close proximity, reader has a nickname, arguments, murder mystery, sexual tension, miscommunication, original characters, offscreen character deaths, alcohol consumption, cursing, overthinking, longwinded descriptions, kissing, flirting, suggestive language, a slight slowburn, dirty talk, praise, vaginal penetration, vaginal fingering, grief, angst, fluff, victorian era, smut (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)
word count: 50,000+
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t a b l e o f c o n t e n t s
i. a sleep deprived meeting
your upstairs neighbor plays the violin often. so much so that it's distracting you from your work. you decide it's time to confront him.
ii. consequences and a lead
sherlock doesn't usually regret things, but he's regretting how he spoke to you. it's not out of the goodness of his heart, however.
iii. mr. wright and jane austen
sherlock observes you from afar and learns things against his own whim. that's what he'll keep telling himself.
iv. the distraction of rising temperature
now that you and sherlock are at a friendlier standing, it's time to explore more of your friendship. or whatever it is.
v. concealed feelings and abstract attitudes
the morning after your drunken fiasco is not any less awkward than you could have guessed. there seems to be a strain on your relationship with sherlock that seeps into the trips you go on together for his investigation. you don't know why he's acting the way he is, you just know that it's angering you.
vi. the puzzling case of clara grace and intricate, convoluted emotions
there are a few ways that you and sherlock reconcile. one involves a bed, the other involves a carriage, a dance, and then there's the matter of the revolver. what was once unclear begins to be disclosed, but it can only be unveiled to a willing, open, and observant eye. you're going to find what's there as well as what you want to be there.
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195 notes · View notes
nekromxnt · 9 months
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. tagdump .
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gyuswhore · 6 months
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Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1)
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«« 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 tags in part 2
(Comments from @toruro): "oh shizzle", "yeah bitch", (on jihyo) "mother", "ME X HAO FIRE EMOJI", "men (derogatory)"
[A/N]: Tumblr is annoying and won't let me post the entire 40k in one go so i have to break it up (part 2 is out tomorrow!!!) i hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for all the love on the teaser, i hope this is able to live up to the hype, thank you so much for being patient with me <33 (ty @toruro for encouraging me when i felt shit ab this gkjnrgvkjrng and beta-ing ofc)
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As someone who could vomit at the mere thought of throw-up, you tried not to stare into the toilet bowl as you emptied your guts in this questionable club bathroom. 
It was proving to be easier than you’d anticipated, naturally, when your eyes were blurred with bubbling tears. Were they because of your wretching or the feelings that churned in your heart? You can’t be entirely sure, nor can you find yourself having the mental strength to figure out. There’s a banging on the door behind you, one that sends your already aching head into a hurling spin. 
“Open the door, I have water for you, it’ll help!” You hear Mika blare from the other side, concern lacing her voice. 
You try to blink the tears away but they cascade down your cheek anyway, rubbing at them furiously before preparing to haul yourself off the disgusting bathroom floor. Taking a deep breath was a horrible idea, you realize when an atrocious mixture of scents hit your nostrils, cringing visibly. 
Washing your hands at the sink took you another five minutes, scrubbing furiously at your palms and nails with the dollar store soap the club graciously placed in a fancy dispenser, pumping more than a normal amount to rid yourself of the paranoia of tainted hands. 
Unfortunately for you, your palms were tainted with entities beyond mere soap and water’s powers. 
It was evident with the way you exited the bathroom feeling perhaps worse than you went in. Mika was nowhere to be seen in the hall, moving along to the private room where the rest of the group was to find her springing up as you enter. 
“You weren’t answering, so I left. Here, water, I told you to be careful with what you drink; you haven’t had a bite to eat either.” She reprimands. 
“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly, not having a reasonable excuse to give her. 
Joshua peeks over her shoulder, “You feeling any better?” 
The water is slow to go down as you sputter before replying in a hoarse voice, “Yeah. Way.” 
To be fair, the water did help. But it was you who was the problem, blaming the alcohol for the behaviour all your friends knew perfectly well where it was stemming from. Not a word was said though, for your sake or their own. You wrap up quickly after that, Joshua insisting to drop you off home himself, quoting how Seokmin would have his head if he left you in the hands of a taxi driver in this state — age gap be damned. You can only thank him as he pulls up to your destination, hoping you’ll remember this in the morning to return the favour in the future. 
“Before you go, can we talk for a second?” he piques, halting you as you remove your seatbelt. 
“Sure, yeah. What is it?” 
“I’m not gonna ask if you’re doing alright, not when you’re gonna give me the same answer as always. But…please take care of yourself. You’ve been drinking quite a bit lately, and it can’t be helping you at all” 
You listen to him silently, not a thought in your brain. But you nod anyway. 
“Thanks for looking out, Shua. I’m…I’m probably not gonna be going out for a while, you’re right,” you reply, quietly, a small smile on your face that you can only hope is reassuring. 
“I don’t mean lock yourself up, either. You don’t give yourself a break and then try to make up for it by drinking your self faint every week, that’s never gonna help you. You know that.” He speaks in a soft, soothing voice, a hand coming up to pat your hair before landing on your clasped hands on your lap. “You know what, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, we can go the fair just me, you and Seok-” 
“I have class tomorrow.” 
“Like showing up hungover is gonna help you retain any information. Just skip.” 
You sigh a deep exhale, deciding to simply be upfront. “I kinda just wanna stay home for a while, going out’s kinda making it worse. I think rotting in front of my laptop’s what I really need right now” 
Throwing in a tinkle of a laugh, you hope you’ve sold yourself.
“Alright,” he sounds slightly unconvinced but doesn’t push you further, “I’ll drop in to bother you tomorrow though, don’t try stoping me”
“Okay,” you say, smiling a little wider. “I’m gonna go now, goodnight.”
“Wait!” he stops you once again, right before your about to shut the door. “Have you talked to Mingyu at all?” 
“There’s nothing to talk about, Shua. Night” 
With that you’ve slammed the door of his car shut, missing the ghost of a “goodnight” that leaves Joshua’s lips as he watches you walk inside the building. 
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“And stop staying out so late at night! What were you supposed to do if Joshua wasn’t there?” Seokmin rants as he walks back and forth grabbing you water and pills as you finish your forced breakfast.
“Take a taxi?” you suggest sarcastically. 
“What? And get me called to the station to identify your body parts when some dude decides he wants to play cannibalistic butcher?” he screeches, and it has you wincing and grabbing onto your head at his volume. You dramatize it a little, hoping he’d shut it with his nagging if you gained some extra sympathy. He doesn’t stop talking, but he does tone it down. 
“Whatever, I’m not going out anymore.” You push your plate and bowl away as you hop off the stool and stalk off to your room, making as much noise as possible in the process. 
Your brother calls after you, but you don’t stop. Your head was pounding, 
“Are you gonna take your meds? HELLO? Or do you enjoy the feeling of having your head split open?” he slams open the door of your room mid-sentence, going on at your blanket-clad figure on the bed. 
“I’m going back to sleep.”
“No, you’re taking your fucking meds.” A cup of water is thrust into your hands as you pick up the pills from Seokmin’s open palms, swallowing before he decides to shove it down your throat himself. 
He waits on the edge of the bed, checking to make sure you actually swallowed the pill instead of hiding it under your tongue like you’ve done since you were kids. 
“I’m not stopping you from going out if that’s what you think I mean,” he starts, a lot softer this time, and you’re taken back to your conversation with Joshua last night. “You’ve been going out and coming home wasted a lot more than normal lately. I don’t know if it’s because your college agendas are finally catching up to you or what.”
“I’m just…My friends are always out and I wanna be with them, it’s normal,” you grumble, disappearing deeper into your sheets.
“You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?” 
‘Yeah, yeah, now shoo. Your voice is making my head hurt worse, I doubt Advils are immune to your yapping.” 
“Fine, fuck you too” he mumbles, leaving the room only to pop back in a second later. “Mom called last night, told her you were at a study group. Might wanna call her back before she catches a flight herself.” 
You wave two fingers up in a salute from your flat position on the bed, hearing him close the door. You don’t sit up until you hear the TV blare from the living room, knowing he had parked himself on the couch and has his attention diverted. 
The headache wasn’t actually that bad, you just really wanted to be left alone, and your brother had a habit to do the opposite when asked, so it had to be done. 
What on Earth were you supposed to tell him, anyway? That his best friend in the whole world rejected his sister on the spot when she confessed her decades long feelings? That she was ruining her liver and kidneys every weekend over a rejection? By his best friend in the whole world?
Yeah, that’s an easy conversation. 
Snuggling into the covers you try not to think back to the abomination that was your birthday party just a few weeks ago, but your thoughts yank you there anyway, as if to remind you of every wretched detail of the encounter like it was wasn’t already burned into your frontal lobe like a brand. 
You were on a high; too happy, too excited. It’s not like you were expecting anything for your first birthday at uni anyway, you were too old for pink blowout parties and too young for the madness of college level clubbing. You were excited for takeout with your brother, to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the night, maybe even stick a candle in one of your burgers and call it your cake. Plans were changed when you walked into your home, ready to wind down for the night and celebrate in your own way. 
It was a full house, food and drinks everywhere, complete with a loud “SURPRISE” as you walk through the door. You remember hugging both your brother and Mingyu when they tell you they did all of this for you, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you as you grip them tight, hoping it’ll transfer all the gratitude you couldn’t express. 
You’re breathless as the night progresses, trying hard to focus on the conversations at hand, trying to be a good host. Failing miserably, you can’t force your gaze from wandering every few minutes, searching for Mingyu in the crowd, watching him move his mouth as he talked, throw his hair back as he laughed, smile that beautiful, beautiful smile of his, perfect teeth on display. 
It had been bliss these past few weeks, the lingering smiles he would give you, the flirtatious attempts never gone unnoticed. The smoothest of words slipping right off his tongue as he gave you eyes that twinkled and sparkled and blew air directly into the embers in your heart. You would still yourself as they would happen, like the mirage would crack and shatter if you even dared to breathe; it felt unreal. After all these years, you realised soon, Kim Mingyu may have began to like you. 
You’d be lying if you said you were completely sober when it happened, drinks were passed around and as the birthday girl you didn’t seem to have a choice to back down, already a little hot and wide eyed barely halfway through the night. 
And when Mingyu doesn’t interact with you all night, you go to him as the numbers in the house dwindled, cornering him as he collected bottles in the kitchen.
“Hey!”, he sounds enthusiastic, “You having fun yet?”
“Yeah, thanks again for doing this.” your remember fidgeting with your fingers and nails, digging them into each other as you let yourself spew. 
“Are you gonna say thank you at every chance for the next six months? It's your first birthday away from home. Besides it was Seok’s idea, I just helped out.” He had said, beaming.
“Mingyu, can I talk to you about something…?”
You sigh loudly as you replay the memory, face pushed into the covers as you bite back a scream at the blood rushing to your head. 
Stupid. Idiot. Absolutely brainless.
“Oh.” He had breathed out when you had spilled your entire heart out to him standing in that kitchen, visibly taken aback at your abruptness. “I…I’m sorry I’m not quite sure what to say.” 
You still remember that sickening feeling, that big ball of junk and emotions that sank lower and lower in your abdomen, settling a deep hurt in your chest that made it difficult to breathe. 
Laying in your bedroom, weeks after the fact, you can still feel your breathing go slightly erratic at the memory, hot tears springing your eyes, burning before you wipe them away. You were aware how baffling it was, how you were letting it affect you to this degree, but you justified it with the years you had remained quiet, yearning on the sidelines. 
You deserved to wallow in this pit. 
At least that’s what you thought. But after last night you wonder if you had stopped indulging in the sorrow and let it ruin you instead. A sigh escapes you at the thought of ending yet another night in a dirty bathroom, makeup smeared and guts removed, misery becoming the only thing you were allowed to feel in the aftermath. 
You reach for your phone on the bedside table, flicking through your unread messages, barely registering a word as you leave them opened and unanswered. There wasn’t an ounce of willpower in you even after a full night’s sleep, turning your phone off before shoving it in your bedside drawer, forgotten. You take a moment to stare at the ceiling, having no energy to get up to turn your lights off. Until the doorbell sounds. 
Of course you knew who it was the second you heard, but the voice paired with your brother’s conversing outside was enough to have you catapulting out of bed. You slap your hand over the switchboard, turning off all your lights, moving across the room to pull your curtains shut, cascading complete darkness in the room. You fly under the covers as a last effort to convince, covering your face with the sheets just as you hear a knock. 
The door creaks open slightly as Seokmin calls out your name. 
“Are you up? Mingyu’s here, he brought coffee.” He whispers slowly. You don’t respond. 
He calls out your name one more time before you hear the door click shut. You don’t move till you hear his muffled voice on the other end, “She’s knocked out, her head was hurting, better let her rest.” 
Heat pricks the sides of your face as your body finally relaxes, borderline embarrassed at how you were hiding from him like a middle schooler who thinks she’s in love. Which you were at one point; now you're a college kid who thinks she’s in love.
You try not to focus too much on the sounds coming from outside, burying under the covers to attempt at sleep for real this time. Eyes screwed shut, you can’t help but open them at every other intonation. There was no way you could figure out what they were saying if you tried, between the door and the TV, it was all a taunting buzz in your ears. 
You do end up falling asleep. But only after you hear the droning of the TV turn off, and the distinct goodbyes as the front door clicks shut. 
Keeping to your promise, you stay away from late nights for the next couple of weeks. Joshua so far as commends you for declining invitations, offering dinner on him on one particular phone call. 
“You know, I was serious when I said I was proud of you.” Joshua voices solemnly as you attempt to cut a strip of meat onto the grill. You snort as a response. 
“I wasn’t like, an alcoholic, you’re making it sound worse than it was.” 
“It was still bad for it to affect you in that way. Takes a lot to get back up from heartbreak”
“Especially one that’s lasted for nearly a decade.” You sigh as you give up on the meat, handing the scissors and tongs over. 
“Are we still talking about that?” He raises his eyebrows. 
A smile makes its way to your face, nibbling on a radish, “No.”
“Good. Because we need to talk about if we want our noodles hot or cold.”
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“Seok! SEOK! Where the fuck did you put my pimple patches?” Your screams echo across the house yet garner no response. Opting to yank open the fridge, you dig through through the box of face masks to find them possibly laying at the bottom, forgotten. Seokmin bounds into the kitchen, towel in hand as he pats at his damp hair.
“What?” 
“Nothing,” you huff, shoving the unfruitful box back into the cabinet, "you used up all the patches.”
“Patches? Pimple patches? We’ve been out for a month, just use this tube in the drawer.” Pulling open the drawer, he rummages for a moment before emerging with a sickly yellow tube of what looked like poorly marketed toothpaste.
“You want me to put this on my face?” 
“Yeah, it works, zit on my nose was gone by morning.” He stuffs the tube back in the drawer not before squeezing a small amount on his fingers to dab on your face.
“Ew, get your dirty hands away from my face.” You grip his wrists before he tries to move in further. 
He does nothing but shush you, shaking off your hands as you grumble in silence, letting him finger paint on your face. You move up to fix a roller on your head, undoing it before rolling the bit back in, resulting in another “tsk” emitting form your brothers concentrated face.
“Okay, enough! I don’t have that many zits.” You pull away as Seokmin moves to wash his hands. 
“Are you going to bed right now?” He asks as you move over to the door.
“Yeah. I’m not going to sleep, though.” 
“Gyu’s coming over, you were asleep when he was here last too.” 
It seemed as though every bone in your body rattled against your flesh. 
“When is he coming?” You ask quickly, frozen in your spot. 
The doorbell rings. 
“Right now, I guess.” He snickers to himself.
You can only watch in mild horror as he moves to open the door, words escaping you. You follow behind him, trying to stop him, yet not doing much other than reach the front door yourself, fingers frozen yet mildly trembling. 
“Wait!” You finally whisper-shout, “Don’t open it!” 
Seokmin pauses to give you a look, “Why? He’s seen you look worse, it’s fine”
The door wrenches open before you can protest any further, a cartoonish moment of the hunched figure of you, hands out in a nearly there grip. You’ve failed, and the chorus of ‘hey’’s reach your ears in almost a mocking manner. There’s a conscious effort on your end to not look up too high, keeping to chest eye level for your own sanity. What you find once your vision clears from the white blur, is that there’s not one, but two people at the door. 
Mingyu’s brought a girl. 
Standing behind the door meant there was no immediate attention on you, which should have been a perfectly good opportunity for you to book it to your room, but you don’t. You stand there instead, staring at the back of their heads like a child in wonder.
Once you are noticed by your brother, he winces at your appearance, a silent apology, like he didn’t know about this new guest either. Or he was apologising for what he was about to do next, you wouldn’t know, because you wouldn’t be hearing him out when you throttle him later. 
“This is my sister” 
All three sets of eyes are on you now, a moment of silence as they take in your appearance. The grandma nightgown, in all its blue and collared glory, does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence in front of the very pretty lady, whose hair cascades down her back, whose skin stands as clear as a summer sky. 
“Hi!” She breaks the awkward silence first, “I’m Jia, it’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about the both of you.”
What?
“Mingyu has a hard time keeping his mouth shut, I’m not surprised.” Seokmin tries to joke as he motions for the couch in the centre of the room. You catch him kicking a stray sock out of the way as he urges them to sit. 
With the way your brother is acting, you don’t doubt this is his first time meeting this girl. Mingyu is yet to clarify why he would bring a friend to the house unannounced, but something tells you you already know. You remain on the sidelines, inching away to the hallway slowly, trying your hardest to not bring attention to yourself.
“I haven’t seen you around campus ever, are you new?” Seokmin prods, his voice slightly on edge. 
“Oh, um-” Jia begins but is cut off by Mingyu as he speaks for her. 
“Jia doesn’t go to our uni, we met at Seungcheol’s, we’ve been dating for a couple months.” 
There it is. 
“Oh! Couple months? How come I didn’t know?” You don’t miss the hurt laced in your brother's words, your fists clenching slightly at the oncoming silence. 
“That’s on me, sorry. It’s just…I didn’t want anyone to know ‘cause I thought he was playing around when he said he liked me, I wanted to see if he was being real or not.” She laughs nervously, and you see the back of her head move as she talked. You can’t help but note the arm that’s swung across the back of the couch where she sat. “Please don’t be mad at him! I promise it was me that stopped him.”
You don’t hear too much of what happens afterwards as you slip away into the crevice of your bedroom, standing in the entryway in absolute silence, attempting to absorb what you had just witnessed outside. Approaching the full length mirror on the other end, it takes a lot out of your to bring yourself to look straight into it, regretting it immediately as you acknowledge your appearance. 
Of course, the woman who actually succeeded in winning over the man that rejected you had to witness you in the unappealing yellow paste that your brother graciously dotted all over your face, not leaving the giant rollers in your hair to cut you any slack either. You could cry about it, but you don’t. Instead you lay back in your bed, sniffling in the dark, just as you had the last time Mingyu was over. 
It’s significantly easier to drown out the voices this time round, especially when your mind is preoccupied with a couple months. Your birthday was a couple months ago, does that mean they started dating right after that conversation? Or were they already offical and you had waltzed in with your princess dreams about your brother’s best friend being in love with you. 
It made perfect sense at the time, and no sense at all anymore as you wonder why on Earth he was being so forwardly flirty with you if there was another girl all along. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you recall how he had quit perceiving you altogether after that night, and you can’t help but mentally commend Jia for testing him by keeping it quiet. Especially when he was going around flirting with his best friend’s sister. 
It didn’t take long for you to guage Mingyu’s reputation when you first dropped into university, the senior having made himself a reputation none less similar than he had in high school. He was popular, but with his outgoing personality and a face like that it was hard not to be liked. Your brother was right there beside him, living it up as carefree college kids, suddenly remembering he now had a little sister to tend to. You were grateful for the both of them for being there to help you take your first baby steps, all the rites of passage and which professors sucked the least, not leaving the leaky water fountain to never drink from. 
That was when Mingyu’s (supposed) advances had begun. 
You’re projected back to first semester, when both of them had dragged you to the same couch outside, talking about an “important thing you should know”. 
“You walk into class one day, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Your professor drones on as usual, your classmates look bored as usual, you’re tired as usual. But then!” Seokmin breathes in sharply, and you hear Mingyu bound to the other side of your vision, emerging on the opposite end of the room with a backpack swung over his shoulder. 
“The man of your dreams walks by…” Seokmin continues and you snap your head towards him in a panic, suddenly afraid he had found you out. He’s busy though, making ethereal hands in Mingyu’s general direction, while the latter walks in comedic slow motion like he’s in a K-drama b-roll, complete with passes over his hair and a nonchalant yet controlled expression. 
“What is this about?” It comes out snappier than you had intended, but you’ve had one scare already. 
“Just!” your brothers hands turn from graceful to clenched, like it was you he was trying to squish you for interrupting him, “Listen, alright?” 
“The man of your dreams walks by,” he goes back to his narrator voice, “and you wonder where he’s been all your life. You start talking, you’re enamoured. You start thinking about introducing him to your parents, what your wedding’s gonna look like, what your kids are gonna look like!” 
Your face is becoming increasingly warped the more you listen to him speak, not being able to fathom where this was going. 
“But no!” It’s Mingyu that speaks this time, pushing a jolt out of you as he slams the backpack on the floor, pointing directly at you for added effect,  “You’re better than that!”
“What the fuck-” you start, but are shushed by a physical finger on your lips as Mingyu shushes you. Seokmin slaps his hand away. 
“Our point is, that you’re probably gonna come across someone who you think is your next boyfriend.” Your brother continues, “But lucky for you, you have two seasoned professionals here to tell you that it’s nothing but fresher’s fever.” 
“It’s a new place, new people, loads of new experiences; you’re bound to latch on one of the first couple pieces of meat. Our advice is don’t, because it will happen to you. But you also now know that your just in a deluded stage right now. Give it a semester before you start dating people, trust.” Mingyu finishes for Seokmin as he thumps down on the couch next to you. 
“So all of this was just another stay away from boys lecture?” You raise your eyebrows. 
“Yes and no. You can date whoever you want,” Seokmin answers coolly before quickly adding, “but not right now.”
It was laughable, the thought of latching onto another person when you’d been trying exactly that for years. To have anyone catch your eye, to have anyone sweep you away from this madness that came in the form of Kim Mingyu. Neither of these seasoned professionals had a thing to worry about though, because you weren’t latching on anything that came out of this institute. You had already done so, in a stage more impressionable than this, years and years before any of them knew of the dangers of young girls and new boys in their vicinity. 
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“Okay, I know you’re like on a self inflicted party ban and all that…” Joshua starts the second he places himself at your table, still haggard looking from jogging across campus.
“Don’t even try.” You warn with filled cheeks.
“Girl, let him finish.” Nayeon chides next to you. 
You exhale through your nose heavily, going back to pick at your tray as Joshua continues.
“Cheol’s throwing a little party tonight to celebrate the end of midterms.” He starts, “You should come, it's only gonna be a handful of people.” 
“A handful?” You repeat, unable to bite back the amusement in your voice. 
“Come on, your brother’s going as well! You’ll be fine, I promise we’ll keep you in check.” 
“I don’t need to be kept in check, I’m fine.” You grumble.
“Perfect! Nothing stopping you then, I’ll pick you both up at 8.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s back to sprinting out the vicinity, garnering looks from oncoming traffic, off to his next pestering destination 
“I don’t think I’d explicitly agreed.” You voice. 
“He got what he wanted.” Nayeon snorts, “Whatever, we’ll get ready at my place after this.”
“Weren’t you guys worried about me? Now you’re actively dragging me to parties.” You drop your utensils onto the tray.
“Too much of either isn’t a good thing, you went from forgetting what home looks like to exclusively holing yourself up in there.” She stabs a piece of potato with a chopstick and tries to pry it in your mouth. “Besides, Cheol’s parties are always super intimate, they’re all gonna be people you know, don’t worry.”
‘Super intimate’, as Nayeon had put it, had amounted to at least fifty people as you take in the crowd at the floor of the house. Despite not being packed to the brim, it was still coming out to look like a full house, random items already scattered across the floors in true frat party fashion. 
“Do you want a beer?” Nayeon asks, dragging you to the kitchens by the hand as you crane your neck to spot people.
“Uh, no. Is there juice?” 
“Um, there’s a questionable looking fruit punch.” she wrinkles her nose at the blaring red bowl on the counter. 
You sigh, grabbing a cup, “I’ll risk it.”
Joshua was air the second he had walked in with you, whisked away to socialize with his own hoard of acquaintances, leaving both you and Nayeon to fend for yourselves. You’re yet to spot your brother, granted you’d only been here a mere five minutes, his rowdy demeanor making him quite easy to spot in usual circumstances. 
Taking a casual sip of the electric red liquid you’re forced to make a face as you register the flavour, alerting Nayeon, who was too busy fiddling through multiple crystal bottles. 
“What? Is it bad?” 
“What the fuck is that?” You sputter in astonishment, wondering how the bowl was already half empty. “Who’s drinking this stuff?” 
She grabs the cup from you before taking a gulp herself, emerging the same gagging mess you were, eyes watering at the taste. It seemed almost comical when Seokmin shows up behind her, waiting to greet only to find both of you doubled over. His eyes move over to the potion in Nayeon’s hand and passes a knowing look.
“He’s brought The Whole Shabang out of retirement.” He states like it was the obvious answer.
Nayeon spits first, “Are we supposed to know what that means?” 
“Cheol got drunk one time in freshman year and mixed every ounce of alcohol he owned into one big bowl of despair. We retired it last year when the bowl broke and stained his counters. But anyway, beginners are supposed to dilute it before downing it.”
“That’s great and everything but why is it so red?” You ask.
Another voice speaks from behind you, turning around to find Seungcheol himself. “There’s an entire thing of food colouring in there, gives it an edge don’t you think?”
“I’m scared of you.” You deadpan, a sour expression remaining on your face. 
Seunghceol is quick to suggest the backyard for some fresh air to distract from the flavour it’s left in your mouths, commenting on the nice weather. Neither him nor your brother stick around for too long though, dipping at the holler of their names somewhere inside. You’re comfortable though, despite being blocked off by a concrete railing, the stairs make a nice haven for the both of you to lie down and stare into the clearer than usual sky. Cheol was right, it was nice outside. 
“I can’t lay down like this, I need to get a drink.” Nayeon announces not even five minutes later. 
“Why didn’t you get one when we were there?” You groan, but she doesn’t respond as she hops back inside, throwing a promise to be quick in the air behind her. 
The wall supports you as you deflate into it, legs sprawled across the steps in disarray. Nobody could see you anyway, taking full advantage as you practically manspread. The side of the pool that’s in your vision is empty by grace; calm save for the giant flamingo floaty that bobs itself into view from the edge of the wall you lean against. A breathy laugh leaves you at the sight. 
The railing on your other side is mostly concealed, you can still make out the wicker sofa set, complete with an unlit fireplace. It’s unoccupied, for the time being, as you register a conversation floating closer and closer to your ears. Wondering if Nayeon had brought friends, you stand up quickly to look over the railing to check for her face over the sliding door that leads inside. 
There’s no Nayeon in sight. 
But there is Mingyu. 
His mere presence knocks your butt back onto the concrete the second you see him stumbling over the threshold with a hoard of his friends, nothing short of his picturesque party strut. There was little reason for you to hide from him at all, considering the very possible notion that he would look right past you if you happened across his line of sight. Space floating in, he’d ignore you for your sake or his own, perhaps even both. 
For now, he’s seated himself with a few other people on the wicker sofas, leaving you hugging your knees to your chest, head on the concrete wall with the lingering feeling akin to that of a trapped mouse. Closing your eyes, you blow out air in an attempt to relax yourself, take light of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You could get up and leave in this very moment, possibly go unnoticed if you stalked back inside before they began their rattle not meant for your ears. 
And yet, you find yourself unable to move, not even when you hear their topic shift to Mingyu’s new beau. Suddenly you wish you’d moved inside the moment you saw him. 
“Was it you that stopped Jia from coming to parties?” You hear somebody ask.
“Why the fuck would I do that?” Mingyu grumbles, he pauses and you assume he’s taking a swing of his drink. “We started going out and suddenly she didn’t wanna come, that’s fine though, it isn’t her vibe anyway.”
There’s a snigger that moves across everybody seated, you hear loud thwack before Mingyu speaks again, “What’s so fucking funny?” 
“This girl’s made you work for it, huh?” 
“Isn’t that like, his brand? Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one yapping about liking a challenge all the time.”
“Yeah, remember Minji?” 
“I still think she was only pretending to not like you, her clique was always smacking at her to straighten up when you’d come over like we couldn’t see everything.” You could almost hear the eye rolling.
“Change the subject, will you?” Mingyu proposes, sounding exhausted at the prodding already.
“I apologise for the ex talk and nothing else.” 
There’s a pause for another choke of laughter across the group, and you wonder what it was that they found so funny. 
“I don’t know if I should say this…” Somebody begins, but is cut off by Mingyu.
“Then don’t say it.” He snaps, but you don’t miss his own jest. 
“I honestly thought you were gonna date Seok’s sister at some point. I mean, common consensus is that bagging your best friend’s sister is… what you’d call a challenge.”
What the fuck. 
You feel your eyes drifting closed at the turn this conversation has taken, wishing to simply fall asleep at what it’s come to. Somebody speaks up. 
“Nah, that’s like, the grand slam prize, that one comes after he’s done hanging with the side quests.” 
The situation is making itself out to be something out of a fever dream. 
Mingyu tsks, and you note a jostle happening through the gaps of the railing. “I’m leaving.” 
You find yourself hugging yourself tighter, eyes shut like he wouldn’t be able to see if you couldn’t see him. Not that it was possible unless he peered directly through the railing in his peripheral. 
“OKAY! Okay! We’re kidding.” There’s a pause. “Okay, but really…”
Another pause, this time longer. You hate how you can picture the ghost of an exasperated smile on Mingyu’s face, a bite of his lip perhaps, dejected at the shoulder with his longing, distant look. You hate how your mind fills the gaps of him the railing won’t allow you to see. 
“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.”
There’s a chorus of hisses and oh’s, a few bounts of laughter in their disbelief. You can feel your stomach twist, heat pooling your figure. 
It would’ve been better if his words had hit you like a gong, maybe the aftermath wouldn’t have felt as horrid. But the connotations crept up on you like a million spiders making their trek up to your brain, waiting to stick their crawlers in the bits that would allow those words to hold meaning for you. You can feel the electric red of Seungcheol’s god awful concoction begin to rise up in your throat like bile; burning, imprinting. 
Mingyu had said what he had said. And everything was in it’s place, in finality. 
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Despite the nearly four year age gap, you and Seokmin had co-existed without the semblance of an older-younger duo. It was mostly owed to Seokmin's shy nature, and his difficulty making solid friends. That, however, didn’t last long as your brother progressed through middle school. 
You had met Mingyu for the first time when Seokmin brought his first ever friend from school home for dinner. 
Despite being barely nine years old and half spoon fed by your mother at the same table, the prospect of Seokmin’s new friend was equal to you having a new friend – which caused enough excitement as you brought your favourite cartoon books into your brother’s room to show this new person after dinner. 
As the following year progressed, you saw less and less of your brother, and more and more of newer faces of ‘friends’ that you weren’t allowed to play with. It was distressing enough to be told by your mother that something of your brother’s was not yours, but even more so when you were kicked out of the room by Seokmin himself for the very first time.
It wasn’t as trauamtising as it felt in the moment, because you grew to find your own group of friends, doing the same as you’d kick your brother out for being annoying – except unlike you, he was doing it on purpose. 
Mingyu was a recurring face, one that was nicer to you on the days your brother was meaner, more forgiving on the days your relatively new middle school was relentless. He fit himself in your life easier than you had realised, more comfortable than you soon found you were comfortable with.
“Did you take my guitar picks?” Your brother bursts into your room just as your about to fall into your after school nap, grip loosening on the book in hand. 
Jolting awake at the sound of loud voice, you don’t respond as you attempt to orient yourself. 
“Well? Did you?” He demands again.
“What? No, I don’t know where your stupid guitar pick is.” You grumble. “Get out.”
“It’s not in my room that has to mean you took it, where is it?” 
Mingyu emerges from behind him, hand on his arm as he tries to pull his iron grip off of your doorway. “It’s probably just in your bag, you haven’t even looked!” 
Kicking the covers off, you sit up in a disarray, progressively annoyed at your brother for ruining your perfect descent into dreamland. 
“I don’t have shit, you just suck at keeping tabs on your stuff!” You grit. 
There’s a stagnant pause as he stares at you from the doorway. You can sense it coming. And it does. 
“MOM! SHE JUST SWORE!” He yells into the hallway, bounding to where your mother was, leaving an unsure Mingyu in your doorway.
Surprisingly, you were just glad he was gone, wanting to melt back into the covers. You make eye contact with Mingyu. “I really don’t have it.” 
“It’s probably in there somewhere, he’s just not looking.” He mumbles, standing a little awkward. “Um, go back to whatever it was, I’ll close your door.”
He does so, allowing you to finally slump back into your pillows to go back to your nap.
You find out quickly that you couldn't sleep after that.
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The controller is becoming increasingly uncomfortable to hold. It doesn’t help that you’re brother is chewing on his four additional pieces of gum behind you on the couch, making obnoxious comments about your gaming form. 
You’re also sitting a foot away from Kim Mingyu on the floor, with whom you’re forced to battle out on Mario Kart. 
“Why’re you clicking the buttons so hard, chill out.” You heat Seokmin say, continued by his wet chomping right by your ear. 
“How hard is it to chew with your mouth closed?” Mingyu grits.
“What? Like this?” Seokmin leans over to Mingyu, chewing even louder, mouth wrenched open and closed right into his ear. Mingyu makes a sound before falling to his side, covering his ears at the ghastly sound, pushing him back with his free hand to shut him up.
You barely crack a smile at the unfolding, watching them continue to wrestle half on the floor. It’s noisy when you set your controller down, chest heavy, unfolding your legs to walk into the hallway to your room. Unnoticed. 
You only reemerge to feed yourself, inspecting the fridge for possible leftovers. Settling on an apple, you’re closing the fridge when you see Mingyu walk in, seemingly taken aback to see you there. You freeze with your mouth still attached to the apple to take a bite. 
“Oh! Where’d you go when we were playing? Didn't notice you gone till I got him to spit that wad of gum out his mouth.”
“Uh, just tired. Took a nap.” 
He hums in response and you're just about to leave when he starts talking again. 
“Hey, did you move the popcorn somewhere else? Could’ve sworn it was in here last week,” he mumbles as he rummages through a cabinet. 
“Oh. Um. It’s in the pantry.” You move before you can think, grabbing the box and slamming it on the counter, pausing briefly before reaching for the popcorn bowl and setting it on the counter next to it. “Here.”
You don’t wait for a reply before grabbing your apple and moving out the kitchen, only to bump into your brother at the door. 
“Where’ve you been?” 
“Napping,” you say, moving around him to go your own way but are stopped yet again as he calls for you. 
“We’re gonna watch a movie! You can lie on the couch.” 
Turning around, you catch sight of your brother still in the doorway, and more intriguing, Mingyu also expecting an answer from inside the kitchen behind him. You gulp as you attempt to remain casual.
“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun.” 
You’re nearly at your door when you hear your brother speak. “She didn’t even ask what we were watching.”
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Nayeon catches up with you before you notice, pulling your headphones away from your ears to announce her presence, not slowing down as you walked to campus. 
“Are you still upset about that Mingyu thing?” She asks when noting your silent demeanor. “We talked about this, come on.”
“Yeah and we concluded that it’s not an easy thing for me to just get over.” You huffed.
“You know what he’s like…” 
“Which is why I should’ve seen this all coming.” You turn around the corner with her.
“That’s not what I meant either.”
“I don’t know what came over me that day. I was doing so well for so long and I had to go ruin it because I’m – I deluded myself into thinking I had a chance.” You’re breathing heavily when you find a table in the air conditioned common room, yanking your bag off and slumping into the sofa. “None of this would’ve happened if I just shut the fuck up.” 
“What wouldn’t have happened?” Seungcheol plops down next to Nayeon, butting into the conversation. 
“Aren’t you intrigued.” Nayeon muses. 
“Especially when it’s none of my business.” 
“Charming.” 
“Anywho,” he sighs, throwing himself back against the couch. “I’ve been tasked with rounding people up for an assignment.”
“Are you gonna experiment on us?” you ask, referring to his chemistry major. 
“Nah, this is for an elective. Faculty needs volunteers for a photography class.” 
“So they need models?” You ask.
“I mean, anyone who signs up is automatically a model, so yeah they need models.” 
“Are we getting paid?” 
“You get to say you modeled for me.” 
“How convincing.” Nayeon deadpans. 
You’re stifling a snicker as you see Joshua walking up to where you were sat, planting himself next to you. 
“What’re we talking about?” He asks, pulling his laptop out almost immediately.
“Nothing, just how Seungcheol needs a reality check,” you sigh. 
He barely acknowledges the comment, going straight to business typing away. “Hey, you're staying for the summer right?” 
“Ew,” Seungcheol voices. 
“I am,” You confirm. 
“For what?” He sputters. 
“Is this you offering to pay for a round trip?” 
He silences quickly after that, giving room for Joshua to ask his next question. 
“Are your parents coming for your brother’s grad?” 
“Mhm, only for the night, though.”
“Oh, did you hear back from the bookstore too?” he asks. 
“I’m gonna apply right before break, I’m swamped right now.” 
“Let me know when you do, the restaurant might need another hire, you could work there if you want.” 
You make a face. “Appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think I’m in the right state of mind to be working in customer service.” 
Joshua’s hands freeze over his keyboard as he breathes out a delayed laugh. Nayeon mimics him.
“Right state of mind?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Wait, what were you talking about before I sat down again-” 
He’s cut off by a voice bellowing your name from across the common room. All four of you perk up at the sound, locking in on Mika aggressively pointing her wrist at you from yards away. You sit up with a jerk, checking the time. You were nearly thirty minutes late for your lecture.
“Josh, move.” You basically climb over him to get out of your seat, waving a hasty goodbye as you sprint to an exasperated Mika. 
“I’ve been waiting outside the hall for ages, you said we’d go in together!” she chides as you both speedwalk. 
“Sorry, I lost track of time…” You huff out a breath. “I just started talking about…whatever.” 
“Why’d you have that face on in there?” she asks.
“Huh? Oh, I was-”
“Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.” She picks up the pace and reaches the door before you do, rendering it impossible for you to speak to her after that. 
You’ve forgotten about it by the time you come home to an empty house, both Mika and Nayeon in your arms. It doesn’t take long for them to make themselves comfortable on the couch, looking at you expectantly like children waiting to be fed. You do that, courtesy of the half eaten pizza that sits on the coffee table. 
“I think you need to get drunk,” Nayeon voices from her end of the couch. 
Mika is immediate with her response, “Don’t encourage her.” 
“Hey!” You pout, “I haven’t gotten drunk in a while.”
“Keep it that way,” she shudders, “don’t need another Mingyu fiasco.” 
Your chewing slows at the sound of his name, a strange feeling settling in your stomach at the thought of him. Setting down your half eaten slice, you brush off your fingers. 
“I mean…” Nayeon starts after a long pause. 
“We don’t. Need another Mingyu fiasco, I mean.” You cut in. 
“If only he’d learn to shut up.” Nayeon grumbles, a sour expression on her face. 
Mika’s been shifting looks between the both of you, seemingly confused. “Am I missing something?”  
Despite not having the intention, you find yourself telling her what you heard while enclosed in the staircase. You attempt to keep it concise, for the sake of your own sanity, but Nayeon’s grumbling is only pushing you deeper into a rant. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let a couple frustrated tears make their way down your face. 
Mika’s response as brisk as your explanation was passionate, brushing over the topic quickly before you got too heated. You appreciated it. 
“Have you considered signing up for the photography thing?” Mika asks.
“You know, I was thinking about that too.” Nayeon pulls a finger up in signed patience to wait till she finished the remaining pizza in her mouth. “You should do it. It’ll put your mind off…him. You’ll be busier too.”
“I have a million things to do, I’m busy enough.” You retort. 
“You’re busy studying at home. Where he could drop in at any point of day.” She points. 
Your open your mouth to rebut again, only to close it as you fail to find a reason to deny her point. “Okay, still!” 
“Just – think about it, okay. It’ll put more on your plate but maybe it’ll help.”
That was the last of your Mingyu talk, not that you could carry on when your brother comes slumping into the house after his class, stealing a slice of pizza as he makes his way to his room. He’s slumped at the shoulders, and you egg him to take a nap before he collapsed on the living room floor. 
Both Nayeon and Mika are quick to leave after that, leaving you with leftover pizza and your thoughts.
You sprawl your things out on the coffee table, taking advantage of the silent house to get some work done. Nayeon was right, as you think of the prospect of Mingyu entering at any given moment to bother your brother as a constant threat. 
It’s not until your prepping dinner with Seokmin that the project is brought up again.
“There’s leftover Chow Mein Mingyu made yesterday, shove that in too.” He yawns as he pushes the box over. 
You can only stare at the box in mild agitation, contemplating if you should simply chuck it into the garbage chute. Unfortunately, by experience, you knew Mingyu made really good Chow Mein, so you begrudgingly slide the opened box into the microwave to heat up, deciding you’d push Seok to eat it before you have a chance to take a bite. 
It’s silent while you eat, Seokmin still in a daze from his earlier nap, shoving spoonfuls of noodles in between bites of pizza. It’s not until your halfway through eating before he jolts up slightly like he’d just remembered something.
“Did you hear about that volunteering thing from the photography department? They want models for some project.” 
“Oh, yeah.” You pause, thinking back to what Nayeon had proposed. “Are you gonna sign up?” 
“No, but you should.”
“I don’t know, I still have a lot of prep for finals.”
“You get extra credit if it helps,” he notes. 
That was news to you. There’s a frown on your face as you deny, “No, you don’t.” 
“They’re doing it ‘cause they weren’t getting the response they wanted. I found out just now too, they’re gonna put it up on the bulletin tomorrow. Might wanna decide before then.” 
There were no questions asked after the realization, blue light of the laptop casting your face aglow in the darkened room as you hit the big blue Confirm button on the website. Skimming through the subsequent email, you find you won’t be needed till next week, the date and time making it’s way to your calendar. 
Now, if you had known what the next week truly held for you, there was no doubt you’d be sending in a cancellation email at first chance. 
But you didn’t know. So you simply went to bed, falling asleep to the vague idea of searching for modeling tips on youtube during the coming weekend, entertaining the mild possibility that this might be the thing that puts you at peace at last. 
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The photography classes are held in regular lecture rooms, as you find out as you file into the sparingly filled hall at the date your calendar has graciously alerted you for. There was an image of a larger, more spacious area for a discipline pertaining to the arts, yet to be fair, the idea of having to create this form of art within a four walled containment did seem a little counter productive. 
Nonetheless, you find yourself seated in a spare chair, waiting for the clock to hit nine on a Saturday morning for the shuffling professor at the front of the room to begin. Your eyes make passovers across the gradually filling room, searching for a semblance of Seuncheol’s bright blond hair to wave him over. There’s no sign of him five minutes before the minute hit twelve, and you’re thinking about slipping to the restroom before it can to kill the remaining time. 
There’s another person filing into the room as you rise from your chair, and you pause in attempt to recognize Cheol in the grey zip up.
Except you don’t find Seungcheol, not at all. 
Mingyu is walking into the classroom, gaze sweeping across the hall as he seats himself in the front bottom row, head thrown back as he sifts through his perfect hair with his fingers. 
You aren't sure why your brows furrowed like they did, or why you planted your butt back onto the chair with the force that you did; especially when all you wanted to do was book it out of the room in full velocity. 
He was taking this class. Of course you knew that, especially when it was all he would yap about at any point he graced your presence. 
You can feel your purpose in the room fade to nothing as you register him as a unit. You want to blame someone, but you know it’s all you fault. You knew he’d be here; if your mind had only thought fit to remind you at any point in the past week. 
In regular Mingyu fashion, if he’d seen you, he does nothing to show it as you find him unraveling a loose thread off of his jacket. You keep your eyes on him, remaining mortified at your blatant disregard to the information that Mingyu was also in this class. Come to think of it, it was probably Mingyu who told Seokmin about the added credit in the first place. You want to kick yourself for not questioning your brother’s apparent magical source of information. 
There’s nothing that can be done as you feel Seungcheol finally slip into the seat next to you just as the professor in the front of the room begins to speak. You’re not in the right headspace to make conversation, so you're grateful for the small acknowledgment as the professor begins to drone. 
“Each student has been given a theme to work with, they’re all different and given to the people whom I saw fit for the job. You’ll be receiving your packets with your theme today, so remember to pick them up from the front desk before you leave,” she begins. 
“As for your models,” she switches to the next slide over to reveal a spreadsheet full of names. “Their names will be right next to yours, the photography students.” 
The entire room lurches forward as a unit, eyes squinted and whispers exchanged as they search for their partners in the sea of names. Seungcheol is zooming in on the picture he took with his phone, eyes zooming over to find his name. 
“Hey, I found yours!” he announces, moving the phone over to you. 
He’s zoomed into your full name on the screen, and your moving the picture aside to see the name across from it. Except, you find you wish you hadn’t. 
—Kim, Mingyu. 
If you needed more confirmation that the universe was simply against you, you’d gotten the message as you prayed the letters would morph into something else before your very eyes. 
You seem to have been staring at the name for too long, because Seungcheol snatches his phone back from your grip to see for himself after you refused to answer his questions of what the name next to yours was. 
“Oh, it’s Mingyu! That’s easy, you're basically related.”
You wanted to slap him. 
Before you can stop him, he’s yelling the boy’s name across the room amidst the growing chatter, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. “Mingyu! I found your model, she’s right here! 
You wanted to squeeze Seungcheol’s neck till his head popped off. 
Mingyu turns around at the call, registering his friend’s words despite the growing noise. He registers you and you watch as he turns his head back at the projection, like he was confirming it was true. 
Of course he’s as petrified as you are, if not more. But the embarrassment of his apparent disbelief made its hot way into your stomach and chest nonetheless, your breakfast threatening to make its way back up. 
By the time the professor’s done with her bit and the room has begun to file out, you’ve found yourself standing outside the lecture hall in uncomfortable movement, shifting your weight between both feet and fiddling with the straps of your bag. Every passing face sends a jolt though your stomach as you calculate how jarring it would be if you left right this second without seeing him. 
You're counting his steps inside your head, how he’d shuffle for his name on the packet he’s meant to receive, counting in any conversation he’d start with a friend or with the professor. A thought occurs to you, and you wonder if he was searching for you inside. You’re weighing between walking inside and leaving altogether when he makes the decision for you, walking out of the room, booklet in hand. 
There goes the toast blaring its way back up your esophagus. 
“Hey,” he says unceremoniously. 
You respond with an unreasonably meek “Hi.” 
“Seok didn’t tell me you signed up for this.” He points casually. 
Well, Seok doesn’t need to tell you everything. 
“Oh, I told him while he was like half asleep, pretty sure he thought he dreamt it.”
Mingyu snorts a little at that, a slight smile appearing on his face as he pictures a sleepy Seokmin. 
“I can imagine,” he says, before he’s brought back to the matter at hand by you. 
You clear your throat before you begin to talk, expression remaining neutral. “Do we need to get started right away?” 
“Oh.” He seems a little taken aback at your forwardness. Like he didn’t know why you didn’t want to make small talk with him. “Uh, I don’t even know what theme I have yet. I’ll read over the packet and plan a couple things out before you have to come in.”
“That’s great.” You hold on the straps of your tote. “Text me when you need me.”
With that, you had spun on your heel and stalked away, not leaving room for him to retort with anything at all. You don’t look back. 
Nayeon can do nothing but gape as she watches you hold back frustrated tears, picking apart the grass under you as you curse the heavens for your horrible fate. She’s absorbing the situation as you wallow, finding the words to say.
“Fuck, this is my fault,” she breathes out.
“No!” You gasp out, furiously wiping away the irritating tears. “It’s not. I just forgot, it’s my own fault. You were right for trying to get me to do it, it just…”
“You can’t ask to change partners?” she asks.
“I can’t!” You wail, “I’m supposed to not care, how is this me not caring?” 
It was ridiculous. Truly. You were sobbing like a child over this, screaming about wanting to not care. But you did care. Too much. Nayeon can do little but hold you as you sniffle into her lap, feeling sick to your stomach at your own childish behaviour. 
“Why am I crying about this, this is stupid.”
“You’re stressed, hon, that’s it. You’ve got a lot going on and this just multiplied it.” She’s running a soothing hand over your back. “Just let it out, you need it.”
You emerge from your hunched position to sit up straight, sniffling a little less as you calm down. “Should I withdraw from the project?” 
“I mean, if you really want to,” she says softly. 
“But?” You sense her apprehension.
“But, maybe you should give it a go.” 
You can only blink at her with wet lashes.
“Think of it this way. You need to… build resistance, keep yourself around him regardless. There’s bound to come a point where you start to feel…nothing.” 
“Are you trying to work exposure therapy on me?” 
“Maybe? If that’s what it means. If you take yourself out of the project, it shows that you care. You need to pretend to not care before you can stop feeling the real thing.” 
There’s a pause as you attempt to find reason in her words.
“Listen, I may be talking out of my ass, and if you do end up doing it, it’s gonna be hard – like a lot, but–”
“No. You’re making sense.” 
“I am?” She blinks, taken aback at the realisation that you may be listening to her. You nod quietly, “You’re right, I can’t keep running away.” 
“So, you’re gonna do it?” She confirms with wide eyes.
Once again, you find it within yourself to nod. 
Yeah. You were gonna do it.
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Being in Mingyu’s presence and feeling nothing may be the goal, but you realise quickly it’s going to take you a while to restrain the trailing eyes that follow him wherever he goes. Nayeon had warned you, but you realise you may be slightly ill-prepared. 
The theme is light. Vague to you but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He isn’t looking at you as he talks, eyes darting between the laptop screen and the plethora of papers he’s scattered on the coffee table. “I don’t really have a colour preference for this one but a a deeper blue or a purple would fit pretty well with the sunlight on here.”
You can only nod along in mild understanding, most of your effort exerted on trying to keep your eyes on the screen where he’s pulling up a color wheel. “I probably have something.” 
“Do you still have that button up Seok bought you? The one with the stripes?”
You recall the deep blue shirt your brother had gotten you for your first in class presentation, picturing it hung still in your closet. “Uh, yeah I do. I’ll wear it.”
“Bring options, whatever fits the colours. No turtlenecks or crewnecks though…” Mingyu continues to talk, taking notes for you in the process. Your mind, however, is somewhere else.
You hate how your mind takes you to a murkier place, one where the thought of him retaining memory of your closet pieces unprovoked has your neck tingling and your cheeks lifting. Trying to snap out of it before he notices your dazed expression, you pretend to flip through the couple papers in front of you, noting nothing. 
“Other than that–” he’s cut off by his phone ringing on the table. Both your gazes dart to the caller ID, and you immediately wish you hadn’t as you register the pink heart on the end. Jia was calling. 
He barely spares you a glance as he excuses himself in a mumble, something about being back in a second. You watch him leave through the cafe altogether, emerging on the other end of the glass walls in your direct vision. For the nth time that day, you find it impossible to tear your eyes away from his positively elated face, teeth out on display as talks to his girlfriend. You wonder what they’re talking about, if her face is beaming like his own, wherever she is. 
You zone out as you wonder what it’d be like to be the receiving end of an expression like that. To have something within you to be worth his smile, his mumbled pardons and his uninterrupted space. There’s a part of you that wonders if its greed – you’ve gotten to see him nearly everyday for the past decade, perhaps you’ve run your tickets dry. 
You realise quickly that Mingyu is no longer in your line of sight as you feel a ruffle on the chair as he sits back on his seat. 
“I think we can wrap up here, let me take the first couple shots before I can see where to go with it afterwards.”
You sense his eager want to leave, and you cannot help but beat him to it for your own sake. 
“Alright. I’ll see you friday then.” SLiding out of your seat, you make a halfhearted attempt at shuffling his papers in a neater pile, throwing him a half smile before grabbing your bag.
He isn’t watching you leave, you know that. Yet you find yourself refusing to slow down or look back till you round the corner, letting your shoulders finally slump and your pace to come to a temporary halt. It takes you another beat before you begin walking again, breathing in slowly as you navigate your way through the moderately crowded sidewalk. Nearly ramming into a fire hydrant, you shake off the seize that remains in your body, picking up the pace hoping it’d promote less thoughts.
It works, as you unlock your front door, finally shaking off the autopilot. Shifting to the kitchen is easy, rummaging the cabinets for your hidden stash of moonpies with the intention to devour the family box whole. You’re contemplating texting Seokmin to bring you actual food as you make your way to your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to let your covers absorb all the feelings that make you human. 
You find it unfortunate as you catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror and the outfit you’d put together before you had left. Your mind goes back to pandemonium as you take in the details, wondering why on earth you’d put in so much effort for a conversation that lasted less than an hour. You tear your eyes away before you begin to truly hate yourself, ripping your jewelry off as you make a beeline to wash your face clean of the makeup you’d put on. 
It becomes increasingly difficult to look at yourself even in the bathroom mirror, moisturizer going on more aggressively than what’s good for you. You feel a sting in the back of your eyes and owe it to the face wash. 
It’s easier once you’re in bed, your laptop at the ready, and a text on its way as you bug your brother to bring you your favorite burger and milkshake combo. You put your immediate faith in your moonpies for now as you rip the first one open, letting the sweetness bring you a deluded happiness. 
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“His name hurts.” Your voice comes out echoey, the sound reverberating in the cavern of your chest. The shot on the table is inviting, but you can’t help but feel nauseous at the thought of downing it. Your fizzled out sprite is being good to you, so you let it.
“Hearing you talk about him hurts,” Mika slurs, slumping down onto the beanbag she’s dragged onto the scene, joining you and Nayeon next to the couch. 
Letting out a loud sigh that you doubt she can hear over the bass booming across the house, you settle to rest your head back on the couch backrest, staring into the ceiling. “Imagine what it’s doing to me then.”
“I don’t need to.” You can hear the exasperation in her voice. 
“Oh, hey, Hao!” Nayeon drags next to you and you lift your head up to see Mika’s boyfriend join her on the already tiny beanbag. He huffs out a hey between a slight smile, slumping almost entirely on his girlfriend. She pats his hair in silent regard. 
“I read this research paper about how they can delete the memories out of your brain squiggles,” Nayeon pops in.
“Since when do you read academic material for interest?” Minghao mumbles, fingers busy playing with Mika’s hair.
The pair continue to bicker as your eyes trail across the moderately packed house, the party looking more lowbeat than any other Seungcheol extravaganzas. Not that you were complaining, but when you spot a certain someone, it’s hard not to. 
Mingyu files into the kitchen with your brother in tow, beaming face evident over the island as he pours himself what looks like orange juice. Your mood is instantly soured.
“What study was that again?” You poke at Nayeon, the image of the man you wished for gone burned into your forebrain. She glances over to the open kitchen and realises what you’re talking about, coming around with a face of her own.
“That one’s gonna be a hard one to scrub out. But it’s okay, even the toughest stains succumb to bleach that’s strong enough,” she sighs. You’re barely listening to her analogy, not when he’s standing right there rendering it impossible for you to look anywhere else. 
“You sound like a commercial.” You can almost hear the crinkle in Mika’s nose as she comments, and you can’t help but breathe out a laugh. 
The rest continue with their conversation as you remain quiet for most of the exchange, eyes filling your heart heavy with the way they remain glued to the figure far out into the kitchen. It was less about the fact that you just wanted to look at him and more of how it was forcing you to think about your predicament; something that was weighing you down yet something you couldn’t help. 
You can’t be entirely sure how long you managed to stare without getting caught, but when Mika calls your name out harsher than expected, you snap around to divert your attention. 
“Huh?”
“Sixth time’s the charm, huh? Get it together, he’s not gonna look at you,” she huffs as she slumps back onto the beanbag, alone this time as you note that Minghao is gone.
It takes you a moment to gather what she had said, mouth gaping open and close as you try to conspire a proper response. “I wasn’t trying–”
“No. Save it. It was my fault for thinking I could sit here without having to sit through more of your Mingyu bullshit.” She’s shuffling out of her bean bag with mediocre difficulty, exasperation on her face as she trudges away to sit with her boyfriend and his friends on the seats on the middle of the floor. 
The air seems to have knocked out of your chest as you find the capacity to process what just happened. Seemingly forgotten Nayeon was also here, you note the hand she places on your elbow as a sober attempt to get you to look at her. 
The rest of the night passes in a nauseous blur, none that you could really make sense of. You bid Nayeon goodbye as you assured her you’d go home with your brother, waving goodbye to blurred taxi lights as she leaves you alone in front of a dwindling house. 
The breath you let out is shaky as your feet remain planted on the concrete, the remnants of tonight passing over you as they came. Deciding you owed it to yourself, you let the tears well up in your eyes. As tired as you were of crying over what was essentially the same thing over and over again, you let yourself tire yourself out once more. 
The party was over, and you knew that because you were walking home alone, hoping Nayeon would forgive you for lying to her. But you couldn’t possibly explain the tear stains on your cheeks to your brother, not when he knew nothing. It was better that way; you refuse to be the person that potentially ruins a friendship that’s lasted longer than any other.  
You try to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you trudge slowly in the dark, not bothering to wipe your tears. Your stomping grows louder the more you grow frustrated with your thoughts, and it proves not too well for you. There’s a pair of headlights throwing light onto the oncoming street, illuminating you in the process. You want to kick yourself as the realisation settles in, praying the car would simply pass you. Considering the late hour and the fact that you were alone is hitting you at the worst time, wondering if you could pretend to make a call as you walked. 
It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down. 
Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention. 
“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”
“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel. 
“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car. 
“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further. 
Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”
“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns. 
There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.
It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.
“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.
“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.” 
“Why didn’t you leave with her?”
“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”
“Hm. That didn’t happen.”
“It’s like I said,” you mumble.
He hums again in response, dropping the subject.
“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him. 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.
“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”
You bit your tongue. Hard. 
He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed. 
“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended. 
“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister. 
“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”
“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.” 
Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.
“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.
He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.
“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat. 
He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride. 
“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.” 
You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”
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Middle school was harder than you thought. 
Not that you expected it to be easy, but you remained hopeful nonetheless. Fifth grade came plowing for you with an unexpected vigor, which you were feeling especially as you gripped your red marked paper with a vice grip. 
It was Mingyu who had found you on the kitchen island sniffling, waiting for your mother to come home and ask you for your dreaded test results. 
You drop your head in shame (even more so) when he asks you the inevitable question of “what’s wrong?” Your voice comes out as a mumble. “I failed my first test.” 
He blinks as he stops in front of the fridge, opening it to emerge with a carton of chocolate milk and two monsters. He slides the carton over to you as he takes a seat on the other chair. 
“Well, what did you get?” he asks as he pops his can open, ears studded black from the piercings he’d gotten done. 
You mumble out the number in incoherence that has him hunching down to hear you. 
“What?” 
“A fifteen!” you finally huff out in exasperation. 
“Hm. Better than me I think I got a two at some point. Don’t worry about it, it's not the end of the world.” He says. “D’you want me to turn that into a seventy five?” 
You look up confused. “How?”
“You’ll see. Get me your test. And a red marker.” 
On that day, Mingyu aided you in your first con, pulling lines to turn the one into a seven right before your eyes. 
“There. Now don’t let her look at it too hard or check your answers. And only give it to her if she asks for it.” 
He had left back to your brother’s room with the spare can of monster, leaving you to stash your test into your bag and move to seat yourself in a more natural position. You’d gotten away with it as your mother pats you on the back for your first attempt at a fifth grade paper, leaving you with a lesson to work harder, and a memory that stayed with you for years. 
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The following day is met with a pit of guilt sitting in your stomach before you could even recall the events of last night. 
There’s little that you can do to prep as you’re supposed to change at the studio anyway, pushing the remnants of your makeup products into a pouch as a second thought. Your hair seemed fine, deciding you’d see to it if it needed changing when you got there. 
You push your departure as far as you could, finding more things to do and more chores to finish before you were due to leave. It takes you a final look at the time before you finally decide to trudge to the door with your things. You cross paths with Seokmin who’s only just coming home, looking worse for wear. He barely acknowledges you as he makes a beeline for his bedroom, disappearing. 
He’s probably fine. 
By the time you get to the studio Mingyu is already in the middle of setting up, immersed in the switches behind giant studio lights. It’s dark, save for the one studio light thats already on, casting a light on the white backdrop, a single stool sits at the front. Looking around, the place casts an eerie atmosphere, the unattended stations and dark back rooms casting a shiver down your spine despite the Afternoon light outside. Perhaps you were acclimated to the hustle and bustle in behind the scene videos of photoshoots, yet here it was just you and Mingyu. 
He doesn’t notice you come in right away, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to recast your words in your head, waiting to be uttered as soon as you say your hellos. 
“Oh, hey,” he says normally. 
“Hope I’m not too late.”
“No, you’re fine, I’m nearly done setting up,” he says, as he switches the second studio light on, doubling the glow in the room. 
“Oh, okay.” Your voice comes out as an uncharacteristic whisper. “Uh, listen, Mingyu, I just wanted to apologize about last night. You were only asking and I was being too harsh.”
He picks up his back from his bent position to look at you, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Oh, no, don’t say that, It’s me who should be apologising. I shouldn’t have pried when you said you didn’t wanna talk about it. I’m sorry, really.” 
You're opening your mouth to rebut, nails clashing onto each other as your fidgeting gets worse, but you decide to end it. “We’re both sorry, let’s just end this here.” 
Both of you have slightly uncomfortable smiles on your faces as Mingyu continues to fidget with his cables and equipment. It went smoother than you’d thought, silently thanking him for keeping it from getting awkward – more awkward than necessary anyway. 
“These ones are gonna be basic studies, establishing the usual studio lights in the beginning before we move to the more experimental shots.” He drags his own stool forward to sit directly across from you in front of the plain white backdrop. “Did you bring another black top?”
“I did, do you want me to change?”
“Not yet.” He positions the camera higher, looking like he’s ready. “Okay, relax your body. Shoulders back, chin down. Okay, now a smile, really small, barely there.” 
He snaps his first photo and you nearly knock yourself backwards on the stool, lights going off at the shot damn near blinding you. 
“You good?”
“I thought the flash was just gonna be your camera.” You frown, coming round. 
“Nah, you’ll get used to it. Okay, back in position.”
He takes a couple more pictures, urging you to make miniscule changes to your poses, whatever feels good. You find yourself loosening up, your posture aiding you instead of working against you. “Try putting your hands on the stool, yeah like that, lean forward. Chin up a little more.”
The directions continue from behind the camera as he continues to flash away, and you do your utmost to not let the lights disorient you too much. He lets you take a break when you make a comment about the pure thermal energy in the room, your face no doubt shiny and red from the lights. You’re done after you take a couple more pictures after an outfit change, rendering you free to leave within the hour. 
“I think you’re done,” he announces, stretching as he leaves his own stool. “I’ll send you deets for tomorrow, we’ll probably get a lot more done.”
“Oh, cool.” 
Gathering your stuff doesn’t take you as you go up to tell him you’re about to leave. You find him fiddling with cables, packing everything up before leaving himself. You make a split second decision, dropping your bag before announcing yourself. 
“Let me help.”
“Huh? Oh no, it’s fine. I just need to shove them in storage.” 
“That’s alright, I’ll help. What d’you want me to do?” 
“Uh, Maybe unplug all the ports, and um, turn the lights on too, I guess. It’s gonna get dark if you don’t.”
Cleaning up was easier when those god awful studio lights weren’t overheating the entire hall, collecting cables and putting equipment back into their places. It was over before you knew it. 
“Is your car back from the workshop?” Mingyu yells from inside one of the side rooms collecting his stuff. 
“Not yet, I’m getting it back on the 15th. Ordered a cab.” 
“You’re going home from here, right?” He emerges from the room, arms in the middle of slipping into his jacket. “I’ll drive you.”
“No, it’s fine I have to meet Nayeon at uni and–”
“Even better, I was going there too. Come on, I just need to kill the lights.” 
You’re out of saviours, evident as you slide into his car, yet again with no choice. It’s meant to be a short drive, considering the studio is barely ten minutes away from where you need to be, yet it feels like an impromptu road trip with the way the roads seem to stretch. 
It’s significantly less awkward than last night, perhaps owed to him not being as inclined to make conversation, unlike last night. 
By the time he’s pulling up, you already have your bag in hand, a thank you frozen on your tongue as you register who it is that’s standing outside the library. You groan internally as you see Nayeon waiting for you, immersed in something on her phone. Praying she stays occupied, you rush your, “thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” as you hope she doesn’t see you slip out of the familiar car. 
She does notice. Looking up at the sound of yout door opening, she catches clear sight of you stepping out of the car, Mingyu in the driver’s seat. You can tell she’s subdued her reaction, but the eyebrows gives her away as they shoot up at the sight. Trudging up to her is a nightmare and a half, dreading the questions she’s going to ask as you hear Mingyu rev away.
“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she breathes out, eyes wide, mouth open in jest. 
“Quit it, I have work to get done.” You choose to lead her straight into the library where you know she won’t be able to ask you any more probing questions.
That doesn’t seem to sedate her though as she continues to whisper a million questions, watching you pull your stuff out.
“I had a shoot with him today, he offered to drop me off and I couldn’t say no!”
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims a little too loud, owing a couple nasty surrounding looks her way, including yours. She continues quieter, pulling your laptop away from you so you’d pay more attention to her. “How’d it go? Did you pose all sexy for him, did he look nervous?”
“I did not pose sexy, I posed normally, because I have a conscience,” you snap, yanking your laptop back from her grip. 
She’s smiling like an idiot, unaffected by your annoyance. “Is he gonna drop you off after every shoot? Oh my god! Don’t you dare get your car from the garage, give it to Seokmin, or, or, tell them to keep it!” 
“Nayeon, shush!” It’s your turn to whisper shout at her gradually increasing volume, pushing her to quit leaning over the desks. 
“Okay, okay.” She sobers up.
“I’m supposed to be getting over him, why are you so happy about this? Indifference, remember? It was you who brought it up.”
“Yes, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t look, I don’t know, like, you know!”
Once she’s a little less giddy, you finally tell her about last night – leaving out the bit where he droppped you home for the sake of the library and its inhabitants. 
“I mean, I know we aplogised and everything, but I felt a little less… on fire around him. Other than those stupid studio lights, those were turning the place into a sauna. But I could meet his eyes without hyperventilating,” you explain, eyes downcast as you speak. 
“I imagine his eyes were covered with that camera anyway, but progress, I guess,” Nayeon comments.
“Maybe I needed to get mad at him to feel better, I don’t know. But it feels like I’m making progress for the first time.” 
“I told you this would be good for you, give it a couple more weeks and it’ll be like Mingyu never happened.” 
It takes a conscious attempt to not scoff. Like Mingyu never happened to your heart. That’s a heart you can’t recognise. 
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The first time Seokmin had brought girls over was a day you couldn’t forget, no matter how hard you tried. 
You were padding down to the kitchen, still bleary eyed and pyjama clad from your nap, making a beeline for the fridge to get a glass of water. Your trip is cut short, however, when you realised the living room was not as empty as you expected. It’s a crowd (to your eleven year old self, anyway) of people your brother’s age. You catch a couple familiar faces, friends of your brother who visited often, Mingyu is part of the lumps on the couch with them. 
What stumped you, however, were the girls that were seated in between, eyes equally trained on you as everyone else in the room. 
“Oh, who’s this Seok?” one of the girls asked. 
“My little sister. D’you wanna say hi?” he asked you, neck craned to look at you. 
“Uh. Hi,” you whisper, gulping. 
There’s a chorus of hi’s that came bounding at you. You could feel the embarrassment creep up your entire body, feeling conscious for the first time in your life. They were staring at you. They were smiling, but you hated it. 
You weren’t thinking as you turned around to sprint back upstairs, not missing the tinkle of laughs coming from the living room. 
“Oh, she’s cute,” you had heard. That had you nearly starting to cry. 
You’d be lying if you said your little crush on Mingyu hadn’t started blossoming for a while at that point. Being younger meant you were constantly fighting to be seen, even more so when you’d do anything for Mingyu to look at you. Hogging your brother’s bean bag until you were kicked out, putting sparkly clips in your hair before you went to the kitchen, laughing especially loud when you knew he could hear.
And yet, despite everything, for the very first time, you hated that Mingyu was looking at you, watching you idle and awkward while he sat next to a bunch of prettier, older girls. 
That night was of many firsts, including the first time you had ever cried over Mingyu.
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Mingyu claimed this was the last shoot, that he’d be done after this final set of shots. 
You’re having a hard time though, because he’s decided his studio for the day was gonna be at the top of a mountain at the asscrack of dawn. 
“We have fifteen minutes,” he announces. 
“To live?” You heave, crouching on the gravel to give your body a break. 
“Till sunrise,” he interjects, reversing to get to your crouched figure. You feel him grab hold of the straps of your bag, swinging it over his own shoulder. “Come on, just a little more.”
“You’ve been saying that for an hour.” You groan, picking yourself up off the path to resume your trudging. Mingyu stays next to you this time. 
“Did you pack your entire house in here, the fuck is this so heavy for,” he grunts. 
“You're the one asking for a bajillion outfit changes, I’m just doing what you asked.” 
“One change of clothes and a compact doesn’t weigh this much, are you disposing a body up here?” 
“Might be yours if I don't see that damn railing in a minute.” 
“I think you're hungry,” he huffs out. 
“I think I need to never agree to do this again.” 
“Salavation!” he yelps as he sees a vending machine in the distance, quite literally glowing (with its fluorescent lights). 
“I don’t need a water bottle, Mingyu, I need to lie down.” Your voice grows more gruff by the minute, legs nearly giving away. 
“No, the vending machine means…” He bounds up the last couple leaps to the glowing box with a burst of motivation. The slope turns flat at the horizon. “We’re here.” 
Nearly falling to your knees at the sight of the long awaited arrival point, you drop to a nearby bench and lay flat on the stiff wood. 
“How long till I need to look presentable? Because if it’s anything under thirty minutes, I’m tapping out.” You declare. 
“I can give you five minutes, take it or leave it.” He barely sits down as he speaks while already unzipping his camera bag. The thought of lifting your arms is excruciating, so you rest your tongue and bite back a whine. 
By the time you do find it within yourself to swing your legs back over the bench, the sky is shifting to a smoky navy, urging you to hurry up as you dry your sweat. You’re cringing as you press powder on your unclean face, but power through the final touches as you stretch while standing up straight.  
The first rays of sunlight are just coming through as Mingyu calibrates his lenses, trying to figure out the best shots in the limited time frame you have. You listen to him as he directs you where he wants you, contorting your face into something akin to faux serene. It’s near impossible when the frown has molded itself into your face after what you’ve put your body through today. 
“Think happy thoughts.” Mingyu calls out from behind his camera. 
“Oh, I’m thinking real happy thoughts. Like the ice cold shower I’m about to take when I get home. My clean bed that’s gonna be nice to me when I lay in it. The leftover pasta in the fridge. My moonpies.”
He has to bring his face away from the camera to throw his head back in a breathy laugh, smile as wide as it could go. It does things to you, but you ignore it. 
The summit isn’t entirely empty, noting a few people leaning against the railings, rendering it mostly quiet. All the more jarring becomes Mingyu’s phone as it blares into the silence, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound. 
He checks the caller ID only to silence it and slip it back into his pocket. 
You don’t get to ask who it was calling him so early in the morning, but get your answer when he immediately announces he’s done with his shots. The sun is higher up at this point, casting a more even orange glow across all the eye could see. 
You suppose he’s in a hurry to get home, seeing as he has someone waiting on him. “Should we leave then?” 
He swings the camera strap around his neck, forearms on the railing as he admires the view. “Give it a couple more minutes, I need to mentally prepare myself for the next hour.” 
It’s hard for you to deny that, so you let yourself place your head into your crossed arms over the railing, staring into the glow. It’s silent for a while as the rays hit your face, warming you more than you’d like. You don’t make any effort to move though, deciding to appreciate the view while it was here, doubting you’d ever make the trek up here again. Not willingly, at least. 
There’s a camera shutter that goes off next to you and you find Mingyu fidgeting with his camera as he tries to begin packing it up. You would help, but you’ve found yourself refraining from touching anything when it comes to his actual camera setup, opting to watch as he disassembles his lenses and pushes buttons to power off. 
By the time you're trudging down the path you’d come up from, it’s bright and sunny, rendering it warmer than before. Going down, however, is proving easier as you appreciate the reduced strain in your calves, letting the recent conversation take you to a smoother route. 
“When d’you think your gonna be done editing?” You ask at some point, the thought occurring to you that you’d only seen a couple pictures that he’d taken so far, oweing to his disapproval showing you all the raws before editing. 
“Kinda have to get them edited and annotated by the due date, so probably by the end of the month.” 
“D’you think I could get the ones you edit?” 
“Why? D’you wanna kickstart a portfolio?” he muses.
“I think it’s normal to ask for my pictures you took of me,” you grunt.
He laughs it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send them over.” 
Mingyu doesn’t drop you off home this time, both of you slipping into your own cars at the base of the hiking trail, bidding your goodbyes. You’d gotten an earful from Nayeon for getting your car back from the garage so quickly, and while sitting in a car with him wasn’t so bad anymore, you choose to retain that distance regardless. This was work, You’re doing this because you have to, and the stupid extra credit that roped you into this in the first place.
Alas, as you start your engine, eyes cast towards Mingyu’s number plate right up front, you can’t help but feel…sad… remembering this was your last shoot. As emotionally vexing the experience was, you had grown to look forward to his discreet location pins and outfit plans, growing more comfortable with him by the meeting. 
It almost felt like you and Mingyu were friends. 
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Your brother’s graduation was an ordeal to say the least. Your parents flying in was a plus, getting to see them at least once for the summer, even if it was just for the day. 
The night is wrapped up fairly quickly, a big dinner with yours and Mingyu’s family to congratulate the freed graduates from their academic shackles. It dials back when Mingyu announces he’s gonna take a summer course for now to keep himself busy, wanting to wait a little before job hunting. Seokmin seems to express the same, wanting some time off for himself before entering the corporate world.
It’s when you get home and your brother is sending you all the pictures of today that you note one that stands out. It was of you and Mingyu, an inevitable one as your parents took turns to make sure everybody got solo shots with everyone.
You’d applaud the enthusiasm, but it was particularly unfortunate for you when the camera was thrust into your hands as Mingyu and Jia posed for nearly fifty pictures. You wouldn’t mind usually, but it just felt like a little too much in the moment.
Despite everything, you find yourself clicking on the Save button on the picture where you’re smiling a little too wide right next to him, for the sake of yourself.
Summer break rolls around with no more hiccups, if you’d count finals as anything other than strenuous. You were happy, with a new job to keep you company for the next three months as you lament not being able to go home. 
Getting the job at the bookstore was easy, your shifts were reasonable and it didn’t pay half bad. You would’ve guessed they were desperate for a hire, but you appreciate the activity regardless. It’s not really hard work, you find out quickly. Manning the desk, shelving deposits and restocking supplies. Monotonous tasks yet ones that you find yourself slipping into quite easily.
After the last shoot at the mountain, it was basically radio silence from Mingyu. Not being able to catch him the rare chance he stopped by the house, both of you swamped with the end of semester throw up. You doubt he’d noticed, and you despair at the fact that you did, even if it was just a little. 
“Oh, great, you’re here!” The owner greets you as you walk into the store, all smiles. She was a sweet lady, nicer than any other boss you’d ever had. “Was just waiting for you so I could leave, my daughter has a play she’s putting on today!” 
“Oh, sorry to keep you!” You rush to set your bag down as she picks up her own things, coming around from the table to take her leave. “Hope the recital goes well, tell her I said good luck.”
“Will do.” She smiles before adding, “Oh and, somebody called an hour ago asking about our book bundles, he said he’d come in to check but he hasn’t yet. Thought I’d let you know in case he asks about the phone call.”
“Got it,” you confirm, waving as she walks out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow!” 
Breathing out a sigh, you find yourself relatively free this afternoon, a slow weekday as you pick your current read out of your bag to get comfortable for the long shift. You’re nearly through the halfway point when you hear the first jingle of the day, the bells attached to the door making their familiar chime
“Good afternoon!” You look up to greet the customer, dog earring your book before standing up from your seat.
The person who’d walked in wasn’t just any customer, you soon realise as you recognise the familiar shag of hair. Mingyu was here. 
“Oh.” You can’t help but let it out when you register him, his own eyebrows shooting up at the sight of you behind the counter. Your next greeting comes out a little dumbly. “Hi.”
“Hey. What’re you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he takes you in. 
“Um,” you glance at your obvious name tag. “I work here.” 
“Oh, right, Seok mentioned you started working at a bookstore.” He throws his head back at the memory. “Hey, was it you over the phone earlier today? Didn’t sound like it.”
“Oh no, that was my boss, my shift started like an hour ago.” You confirm. 
“Ah, I see.” 
The silence is awkward for about five seconds before you jump into action. “You asked about a bundle over the phone?” 
“Right, um,” he pauses to fish his phone out his pocket, scrolling for something. “It’s Jia’s birthday coming up, and there’s this book series she’s been wanting. Here.”
You need to remind yourself to pat yourself on the back for not shaking as you received his phone, mind remaining in the moment. “Oh yeah, we have those. Let me grab ‘em for you.” 
He follows you through the columns of shelves as you navigate to find what he was looking for, stopping in front of the shelves. “There’s three of these, I can put them in a sleeve for you. Probably put a bow on it too if you want.” 
“Okay, perfect. Do you guys have LP’s too?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah. Hold on, let me put these up front.” 
You lead him to the back of the store. “The selection’s pretty small, the first shipment only came in like a month ago. I’m not sure if you’ll find what you want here.” 
“She’s been talking about getting more LP’s after she got a new record player. Hasn’t mentioned anything she wants though,” he voices, thumbing through the selection. 
“What does she listen to normally?” You ask before quickly adding, “So I can, maybe, help pick something she’d like.”
“Uh, older stuff? I should’ve snooped before coming, fuck.” He mumbles, thinking hard. “She barely plays it when I’m around but most of her LP’s are like Frank Sinatra and…Duran Duran was it?”  
“Hm…” You hum as you flick through the dated section of the stockpile, “How’s this?’
He’s taking a look at the record you’ve handed him, scanning the tracklists on the back. “I’ll get this, I guess. I can always bring her around to get more that she likes.” 
“D’you want a bow on this?” You ask, referring to the books you’re putting into the set sleeve, “You can pick your colour.”
He’s quick to pick the lilac ribbon, watching you as you tape it prettily on the box. You’re trying to curl the ribbon at the ends when he tries to make conversation. 
“When does your shift end?” 
If the man wasn’t quite literally buying a birthday present for his girlfriend (or if you had any memory of your own birthday), you’d think he was trying to hit on you. But he’s not. You know that. 
“Ten-ish. Closing’s on me so I could technically leave an hour early and no one would know.” You snort.
“Everyday?” he asks incredulously. 
“Minus weekends, the family takes care of that. They just need someone for afternoons and evenings on the weekdays. It’s not like I’m taking summer classes or anything, and it’s easy work.” 
“Well, you’ll be pleased to find out you’ll most likely be available on the 27th of August, then.” He sing songs as he fishes his phone out to pay, a cheeky air in his expression.
You blink at him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. “Was I supposed to get that?”
He pushes his shoulders back, content expression on his face as he continues. “There’s a cultural art exhibition in two months, and I, have just found out I’ve been shortlisted for a spot.” 
“A spot? Like to display your photos?!” You drop the card machine with a thud.
“Your photos. Prof liked the project so much she submitted some of ‘em as entries. It was super short notice, but they liked them, I guess.” His grin is wide, one that you find impossible to not reciprocate. “I just need you to sign a consent form and I’ll be all set to start prepping.” 
“That’s insane, Mingyu, congratulations!” You exclaim, genuinely excited. “Are you gonna be using the same pictures?”
“Yup, I just need to fix the editing with my prof before they go up. You’re the first to find out, I just got out of the meeting.” 
There’s a mix of hesitation before you utter your next proposal, a split second of bewilderment at what you were about to suggest. “Come over tonight, we can celebrate with Seok. Bring Jia along too, we can celebrate an early birthday.” 
“I’ll see, she might be taking a bus home tonight for the weekend, might have to bother you by myself.”
The ache in your cheeks didn’t stop until well after Mingyu had left with his cargo, the elated feeling remaining for even longer after the fact. There was a point where it took you convincing to rid yourself of another intrusive, uneasy feeling, like you were taking a step back by being happy at his announcement. 
It was, however, safe to call Mingyu a friend. Safe to be happy for him. Safe to have your heart swell at his achievement, having watched him work hard for it.
It was safe to feel.
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This was horrible. 
Truly. 
You were trying to ignore it, the strange thumping noises coming from under your car, like it would go away if you pretended to not hear. There was a sliver of hope for you, barely five minutes away from home that you’d make it before your tire decided it had enough of trying to grab your attention. 
But then it started screeching, and you had to stop before you caused a road fire.
“Tire? Didn’t you get them changed like last month?” Seokmin asks over the phone.
“Didn’t know new tires were immune to industrial blades, too. Are you gonna tell me I got ripped off?” 
“Mingyu has a scissor jack, I’ll tell him to come to you.”
“Wait! You have a scissor jack, too! Why can’t you come?” You sputter at the sound, glancing at the 21:42 on the dial. 
“He has my scissor jack, he’ll change it for you.” He grits back. “Besides, I’m not letting this face pack go to waste I just put it on.” 
“Seok!” 
“Stay in the car, lock the doors till he gets there.” He grounds.
“Seokmin!” 
Beep. 
The bastard hung up. 
“Ugh!” you break from a tightened jaw, slamming the car door shut with passion as you huff into your seat, waiting for Mingyu. 
Was Mingyu busy at 10:30 PM on a weekday? He was, actually.
He’d scrambled to finish up the last of his meeting with his professor, wrapped up in planning for the exhibition despite the two month time frame he’d been given. Exhibitions were a lot of paperwork, as he was finding out as he sweet talks Jia over the phone, promising to be with her within the next five minutes. Well, ten maybe, he has to grab butter from the store.
She sits on the kitchen counter as Mingyu makes her favourite. A strenuous task, but he’s willing to go through the double frying to make up for the time he’s lost. It’s not until he’s doing the post dinner dishes while Jia’s picking a movie in the living room that he’s met with another dilemma to handle. 
He’s deflating as he stands, phone to ear as he listens to Seokmin about your situation. Glancing at the near 10:30 PM hand on the clock, he finds it difficult to refuse, especially when he’s told you’re alone and stranded on a highway. He thinks to Jia in the living room as he tells Seokmin he’s leaving the house to get to you.
He’d only be gone for barely 20 minutes. He’s changed plenty of tires, this should be quick and easy. 
Slipping into the living room is easy, wrapping his arms around Jia from behind is even easier. It’s when he has to open his mouth that he begins to falter. Twenty minutes, he reminds himself.
“I have two I’ve heard are really good, you can pick which one we watch first,” she voices as she fluffs the pillows on the couch, ready to tuck in for the rest of the night. 
“Babe?” 
She spins around in his arms, coming up to fluff his flat hair too. “Hm?” 
“Seok just called…”
Her face falls as he talks despite his best attempts to assure her he won’t be long. 
“Twenty minutes?” she parrots, wanting his word. 
“Fifteen.” 
Whether Mingyu would keep his word is something he’d find out, but you had kept your word to Seokmin, staying in the car, doors locked till you saw Mingyu’s car pull up behind you in the rearview. The wretched scissor jack that’s caused all of this sits in his own boot as he yanks it out to bring it over to your car, where you stand arms crossed, face dejected. 
“Were you waiting long?” He asks as he immediately crouches to fit the jack where he wants it. 
“No, not really,” you reply. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here, if only Seok remembered to take the stupid scissor jack–”
“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything.” Lies. But you already sounded apologetic and he didn’t wanna hear you apologize any further.  
“No, it’s not okay. The idiot’s relaxing with a stupid face mask on while you have to come out here and change a fucking tire, God, you have class tomorrow too, don’t you?” 
“Not until the afternoon, I’m in the clear.” He springs up from his crouched position, pulling the jack with him. “Open the boot.” 
Placing the scissor jack in your boot, he continues, a little breathless. “There, I’ll tell Seokmin I left it in your car. Or, you could do that.” 
“Thanks, Mingyu. Really.” 
He does nothing but flash a smile, doing his best to convince you you weren’t an inconvenience before having to see your apologetic face again. “Alright, I wanna see you drive off before I leave, go on.” 
By the time Mingyu’s slamming the door of the house shut, it’s eighteen minutes on the dot. Jia doesn’t say much, excited to have him back in her arms. 
“Wait!” he suddenly yelps, once he’s tucked in with her. 
“What now?” she groans. 
Mingyu’s bounding back to his bedroom, emerging a few moments later with a dark paper bag. He goes back to sit next to her on the couch, sliding the bag and its contents towards her.
“Here. We’re not gonna be together for your birthday, might as well give you your present the night before you leave.” His eyes are glinting, hopeful.
Jia expresses her thank you’s commenting on the ribbon and his LP choice, grinning widely.
Your name comes tumbling out of Mingyu’s mouth before he can stop himself. “She helped me pick it out!” 
“You…took her with you?” She asks after a moment.
“She worked at the store! I didn’t know till I went there either.” Mingyu’s voice grows increasingly enthusiastic, seemingly unaware that his girlfriend was growing slightly irritated. “I’ll take you there when you get back, the selection’s small but she’ll probably help you pick out something you’d like. I only had to give her like two names before she figured it out.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” she comments, tight smile on her lips as she collects the book sleeve and the LP, placing them back into the bag and leaving them on the floor next to her.
Mingyu is blissfully unaware of the fuel he’s added to growing embers, munching away on his popcorn, eyes trained on the TV and its stimulating colours. 
“I was talking to Jihyo the other day, super random but it came up while we were talking about you,” Jia starts experimentally. 
“Huh?” He has her attention. And when she mentions your name, the part of him that’s always wondered when she’d bring it up comes out of dormancy. 
“She said she…I don’t know, she said she liked you at some point, Like a lot, and for a while.” Jia sounds unsure, like she didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring you up. 
Mingyu sighs as he rears himself for the inevitable conversation. “It’s—well, it was—just puppy love. I was around all the time and I guess she latched, I don’t know.”
Jia pauses, eyes remanging trained on the movie. “Does it make you uncomfy? That she liked you? Maybe she still does.” 
“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m around Seok which means I’m sometimes around her by default. Can’t help it. I mean, the photography thing kinda just happened but, I don’t really care. And she seems over it.” 
Mingyu is rambling. He can feel it. Which is why he tries to end the conversation right there, tone nonchalant as he hopes the topic breezes past. 
It doesn’t. 
“You seemed pretty adamant in leaving, though.”
“Huh?”
“When she called just now.”
“Seok called, I had his scissor jack!”
“Why couldn’t he have grabbed it for you and helped his sister himself? He has a car too.”  Jia’s paused the movie at this point, moving away from his arm she was leaning on, shifting to look at him fully. 
“It would’ve taken him forever, she was alone in the middle of a highway at nearly eleven, you wanted me to leave her there?” Mingyu finds the conversation ridiculous, and it shows in the irritation that rises in his own voice. 
“Mingyu, you can’t be upset with me right now,” she breathes out exasperated. 
“I’m not? I get that you’re upset, I haven’t been around as much but you also know what this exhibition means to me. I need to put everything I have into this and it’s only for a couple months–”
“Mingyu, it’s not just the exhibition!” 
“Jia, I can’t know if you don’t tell me what’s really bothering you, talk to me.” Mingyu’s begging at this point, wondering how it’s come to this in the first place. 
“You can’t expect me to be okay with you going around wherever, whenever, when I know what kind of lifestyle you’ve come out of not even six months ago!” 
Mingyu had come a long way from his galvanizing tendencies, doing absolutely everything he could to convince Jia he was serious about her. Unfortunately, this was not the first time his past had been brought up; in an argument or in a light hearted setting, and he wasn’t particularly fond of it. 
“Are we in six months ago? Are you saying I’ve done nothing substantial for you to think I’m still fucking around? Either give me an instance or figure out what the real issue is!” 
There’s a plaster of suffocation in the room, neither soul speaking a word. Until Jia finally speaks. “I wanna go home.”
It didn’t matter to Mingyu if she was expecting him to grovel, to ask her to stay and talk about this further. It was clear she wasn’t about to talk about anything pertinent at all, and definitely not tonight. He was tired, and frankly wanted to be alone right now.
“Fine.” 
Silence penetrates all of his air for the entire car ride up until he’s entering his apartment for the third time that day. Not bothering to clean up the living room, he thinks he does himself a service so as to not be reminded of the past couple hours. He’s casting the place in complete darkness before moving to his room. Might as well get some work done. 
There’s a conscious effort to not start slamming things, he succeeds mostly, his graphic tablet receiving the short end of the stick. Turning on his monitor, he’s met with his ongoing project still brought up on the screen.
It’s a picture of you. One he took in a greenhouse off the outskirts of the city, something you complained about extensively as the heat ruined both your mood and your hair. You were smiling regardless; a wide, happy smile as you looked into the camera, petunia’s and dahlia’s framing an illusion around your figure.
Mingyu feels the tension in his muscles begin to relax, his breathing evening out after what felt like hours. He becomes almost excited to pick up his stylus and work on the photo, the set up allowing him to dive right in. There was barely any work left, moving on as he finishes the photo and saves it. 
It isn’t until he happens to click on the the last folder, the one where you both caught the sunrise after a strenuous hike. He can’t help but break into a hint of a smile at the memory of your broken figure at the pathway, cursing him for bringing you here so early in the morning. The pictures had come out good, especially when Mingyu opens a particular photo at the bottom of the folder, an extra from his initial round of editing for his actual project. 
It’s of you (of course) with your chin tucked into your arms as you gaze at the scene from up above, beyond the railing. The sun is up higher at that point, but the cast remains as the top half of your face that wasn’t tucked in your arms is lit in an orange glow, eyes glistening like stars during the day, wide and beautiful. 
Mingyu remembers the shot. It was an accident.
In an attempt to fiddle with the settings to turn off the camera, he ended up snapping a picture instead. The distinct click was noticed, never bothering to check what came out of it when he stuffed his camera back into his bag, nor when he sifted through his SD card. 
It was like he was seeing the picture in a new light, and the potential it had to become something worth ogling at. He wonders what had come over him when he had placed the photo as a secondary option without another thought, lamenting at what could’ve been his actual final piece. 
He stares and stares, attempting to draw maps of color rendering in his mind, yet all that comes up is his eyes zeroing in on your own. How they glisten. How they sparkle.
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Part 2
5K notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 5 months
Text
Soft Touches
Description: you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.
Warnings: acquaintances to lovers, reader is AFAB, weed smoking (both parties so no real dub con), fem oral receiving, praise kink, p in v unprotected sex.
A/N: It's my birthday! And I'm high, and horny, so happy birthday! If you've read my work you KNOW I'm a sucker for the first time y/n fucks Eddie. When I'm a benevolent dictator it shall be a universal holiday ;)
4k words
Masterlist
“Eddie, what the hell was in that?” 
Floating in a cloud of your high, the entire room seemed to glow in pink and orange, senses tinged in a sunset glow. You were definitely stoned out of your tree if you were comparing Eddie's stuffy, cramped room to a breath-taking sunset. 
“It's a new strain I got from Rick. You feeling it?” 
“Oh, I'm feeling it alright. I can hear colours.” 
Eddie's rich laugh echoed off the walls of his trailer. He laid on the bed casually, one arm slung beneath his head making his tight t-shirt ride up slightly. Just a peek of his happy trail was on display, which you tried, and failed, not to stare at. 
It was proving difficult, especially since you sat criss-cross apple sauce on his floor. His body was eye level, handcuff belt shining softly in the low light. The glint of that drew your eyes even lower, concentrating on the bulge you could see in his jeans.
You thought you were being sneaky. You absolutely were not. 
“Hey, sweetheart, you gonna answer me or just stare at my dick?” 
“Huh?” 
Shaking your head as if to clear it, you finally met his gaze. 
“I said, you can come lay up here if you want.” 
Halfway between getting up and still in a weird little crouch his words finally filtered through your addled brain. 
“I wasn't staring at your dick!” 
“Whatever you say, baby girl.” 
Frozen, mind empty of comebacks, you clambered out of your goblin stance and stood up, when the blood decided to rush to your head. 
“Oh Holy shit.” 
Your knees buckled, and you would have ended up face first on Eddie's carpet if he hadn't caught you. 
“Easy there, I've got you.” 
Eddie's firm hands held your upper arms tightly as he manoeuvred you to sit on his bed. The room was spinning, everything was drifting out of focus. 
“I need to lie down.” 
Eddie pulled you towards his pillows and laid you down gently, picking your legs up and settling them on the bed with you. Staring up at his off white ceiling, things began to drift back in. Once the room finally stopped swooping around in your vision, you started to come to your senses. 
You are on Eddie Munson's bed. You knew him, sure, only in a ‘can I come round so you can smoke us out and listen to music’ kind of way. You'd hardly call him a friend. This though, feeling the heat of his body next to you, him leaning on his side staring at you worriedly seemed entirely outside of your current arrangement. 
Suddenly the air was stifling, Eddie's warmth only exacerbating the matter. 
“You alright?” 
“Yeah, just really warm. And fucking high.” 
Eddie laughed, relieved.
“Thank fuck, I was scared for a minute.” 
You fumbled at the hem of your oversized sweater, attempting to wriggle it up your body but all motor skills were beyond you right now. 
“Eddie.” You pouted at him, flapping the edge of your sweater with frustrated hands. 
“You want this off?” 
“Please.” 
He flashed you a mischievous grin and pulled up upright, beginning to draw the offensive sweater up and over your form. 
“Didn't think you'd be begging me to undress you sweetheart.” 
Rolling your eyes in response, you held your arms over your head like a petulant toddler. Sweater removed and tossed to the foot of the bed, you risked a glance at Eddie. He was entirely preoccupied, staring at your bare midriff that was now on display. 
“It's a crop top Eddie, get over it.” 
Flinging yourself back down on the pillow, Eddie coughed, looking a little flustered, and settled in next to you. 
“Sorry, I didn't expect it. You always wear baggy shit.” 
“Comfortable shit, thank you. I come here to smoke, it's not New York fashion week.”
Eddie ran a finger across you, just below your belly button. The barely there touch blazed across your skin. 
“I didn't know you had your belly button pierced.” 
Looking down, you watch as his fingers circle it, then flick the little jewel dangling off the end. Thighs clamping together out of sheer necessity, you attempt to ignore it. 
“Yeah, got it done when I was like 15, two towns over. Probably my least painful piercing. Apart from ears, of course.”
Apparently, Rick's new strain also makes you run your mouth, as well as being insanely warm and horny. It seemed you had captured Eddie's attention. He turned further towards you, one hand holding his head up. The other, much to your relief, stayed on your stomach. You're not sure he was even aware he was still stroking your skin. 
“Least painful? What other piercings do you have?” 
You seriously considered dodging the question, but it's difficult to be devious directly to those big wet eyes of his. It's like trying to lie to a baby cow. 
“Well, I got my nose done, but the piercing fell out and I didn't bother to get a new one. That one stung. But the worst had to be my… my nipples.” 
The whole bed lurched as Eddie jumped up and sat cross legged facing you. He practically flew into action, grabbing his cigarettes and a lighter as if you were about to tell him some epic tale. 
“Right, tell me everything.” 
Whilst laughing at his wide eyed expression, you realise he's being completely serious. 
“Well, they er, they like, sanitise the… area, draw a dot where they're going to pierce you and tell you to take a deep breath in and it's done. It's super quick actually. It's more the after part that hurts. Why are you interested?” 
Eddie pushes his hair behind one ear, the tip of it is glowing scarlet, you notice. 
“I was thinking about getting it done my last birthday but I didn't have the cash.” 
He's staring at you, nervously chewing on a hang nail. You can practically see the unasked question dancing on his tongue. You weren't going to offer, hell no. If he wants to see he has to ask. The thing is, the way your tummy is bubbling right now, you don't think you could say no to those eyes of his. 
The question remains unsaid. He merely offers you a drag on his cigarette which you take gratefully, before he's stubbing it out and laying back down next to you. 
“How you feeling now? Bit less baked?” 
“Oh I'm still fucked, but I can see straight and I don't feel sick.” 
His fingers begin their dance again, skating over your exposed flesh, stroking down your side to your hip, across your stomach, and back again. You want to mention it. He's never touched you like this before, but you also don't want him to stop. 
“Good. Not inviting you over again if you hurl on my bed.” 
Giggling, you turn and face him. You're both on your sides now, knees close to knocking. His shirts ridden up again and before you can even register what you're doing you've placed a delicate hand on his hip. His eyes widened briefly, but that's it. Both of you are touching the others bare flesh, whispers of touches. Little, tentative things, like the bursting of soap bubbles on skin. 
“I wouldn't hurl on your bed. I'm sure I'd at least make it to the bathroom. I'm not an animal.” 
Eddie just grins in response, and you look at each other, really look. His dopey smile is the same as yours, and it seems neither of you want to mention how this seems to be rolling into very unfamiliar territory. 
“Eddie?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Why are you touching me?” 
He pushes infinitesimally closer, his knee now slotting between yours. It's a small gesture, but suddenly the situation feels even more intimate than before. 
“Because. Because it feels good. You're soft, and warm. And you keep making little noises.” 
“I do?” 
He smooths his hand higher, thumb dragging along the underside of your breast, and you let out a tiny, quivering whimper.
“See? Like that.” 
Opening your legs slightly wider, Eddie's knee pushes naturally further forward, his thigh now wedged between yours. His breath is fanning your nose; cigarettes, weed, and sweet snacks. 
“So sweetheart, why are you touching me?” 
Your hand presses a little more firmly, snaking underneath the hem of his shirt. With no complaint forthcoming, you reach further up, stroking his side, up over his ribs, and back down again. He responds in kind. Every kiss of fingers is electrifying, filling the room with a soft, dense tension. 
“Because it feels good. Because I saw a bit of skin and I couldn't resist.” 
“Yeah?” He's smirking as he says it, but you're beyond playing games at this point. 
“Yeah.” 
“I didn't know I was irresistible.”
You pinch his skin a little and he stares at you like you just betrayed him. 
“I didn't say that, you're twisting my words.” 
“Pretty sure I heard-” 
Cutting him off with a tickle to the ribs, he grabs your hand to stop you. 
“OK, OK! You were right, I was wrong. Nice touches again please.” 
His hand swiftly makes its way back to your skin and you continue to stroke him. 
“Nice touches?” 
“Yeah, it feels really good.” 
Running your hand up, you graze his nipple, and then bring it back down, down, until you reach the top of his jeans. You graze a finger, just one, under them, sweeping across his tensing abs. Then, you move up to more innocent flesh. 
“Jesus Christ.” 
Eddie's chest is heaving, fingers pressing indents into your flesh. 
“Nice enough?” you're the one smirking this time, pleased at the effect you're having on him. 
“Yeah.” 
It's barely a word, more of a breath. You scoot closer toward him, just a couple of inches, but it's close enough to feel his thigh start to press against your heat. Gasping at the pressure, you rub subtly against his thigh to try and relieve your mounting feelings, no matter how slightly. 
Eddie's hand starts making a trembling journey up your form, fingers twisting underneath your top. Feeling the underside of your bare breast, you both gasp. Eddie undoubtedly because you weren't wearing a bra, you because, well, the obvious. The slightest graze had your nipple hardening instantly, hips rocking forward without your control. 
“Is this OK?” 
“Yeah. Please.” 
Fingers stretching further, Eddie finally brushes your nipple. The feeling is magnified by your piercing; they've felt more sensitive since you got them done.
The moan that escapes is louder than you meant but it couldn't be helped. This simple touch is igniting through your nerves and rushing to your high brain. 
“Shit, they are pierced.” 
It seems to be a thought that Eddie said out loud by accident as he rubs his fingers over your ruddy nipple, slowly circling the silver balls of the jewellery. 
Another moan breaks from you, even louder this time.
“Fuuuuck Eddie.” 
“Yeah?” 
His touches become firmer, rubbing your nipple between thumb and forefinger, mapping the way your face scrunches up with his eyes.
“Yeah, jeez. They're really sensitive.” 
Practically panting in each other's mouths, your noses rub together. 
“Can- can I kiss you?” 
His words are so hesitant that it makes you giggle. Pressing your lips in a swift kiss to his full bottom lip, you respond. 
“I'd be mad if you didn't.” 
Eddie wastes no more time, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to you that you reciprocate in kind. You keep it slow, leisurely traversing new territory with soft, exploring tongues. Naturally your arms encircle him, pulling him closer, closer. His arm snakes around your back as your bodies press together, like puzzle pieces slotting together and finding their perfect match. Eventually you break away to take a gasping breath as Eddie presses kisses to your collarbone.
“I don't know why we waited so long to do that.” 
“We? I thought you just wanted me for free drugs!” 
You giggled loudly at that, so loud it came out as a snort, but it didn't matter. The moment was so honest that being cool had nothing to do with it. You were bare, in a way, and so was he. 
Eddie chuckled with you as he slowly but surely pushed you onto your back, slipping both of his legs between yours. Pushing your hips up, you feel his hardness graze your pubic bone. 
“Eddie?” 
He hums a response, lips and tongue busy loving on your neck. You tug at the hem of your top and pull upwards. Eddie gets the message, moving out of the way briefly so you can strip it off. 
There you are, bare chested in front of him. You'd be nervous, if you hadn't seen the longing in his eyes. He's kneeling, one arm leaning on the mattress whilst the other compulsively strokes your side. 
“Jesus Christ your tits are perfect.” 
The moment stretches just a little too long for comfort; you're a hair's breadth away from crossing your arms over your chest when Eddie leans down and runs his tongue around and around one nipple. Mewling pathetically, you lace your fingers in Eddie's soft waves and tug. In response his teeth graze you as he sucks softly; then he gives the other just as much attention. 
Shuddering and wriggling under him, you can't do anything but whine, your hips undulating upwards to chase some friction, some release, anything. 
“Eddie, please, I need you.” 
“Umph,” He responds, muffled by your chest, “I need you to say that again.” 
“Eddie I swear to God if you don't- ” 
He laughs, cutting off your sentence. 
“Alright baby girl, I got you.” 
Working his way down your front, he takes his time planting soft kisses, making you writhe at each touch of his lips, until he reaches your shorts. 
Flicking the button open, he slowly drags the zip down and finds the little sliver of red panties poking out. 
“Hearts? Cute.” 
Thick fingers plunge into your clothes and pull them away, flinging your shorts and panties across the room into the void that was Eddie's carpet. 
Insecurity finally gripped its claws into you. What if he didn't like what you looked like down there, smelled like, tasted like? 
A moment of unadulterated panic, and then Eddie licked his tongue, slowly yet firmly, between your lips and all the way up. Barging your thighs further apart with his shoulders, he rooted your clit out with his tongue, running dizzying circles and sucking at it desperately. 
Eddie's moans rivalled your own, such neediness etched in you swear his fingerprints will be left on the outside of your thighs like tattoos, simply from the force he held you with. Barely able to shake, you compensated by pulling his hair and guiding his tongue exactly where you needed it. 
He pushed a thick calloused finger into you slowly, looking up at you as he did so. You back arched off the bed. He felt around, staring at you with such intensity you that you were seconds away from telling him to quit staring when-
“Oh God, oh fuck!” 
Eddie smirked, sliding another finger in gently to join the first, and worked your clit between his lips. He incessantly stroked a spot inside that you'd never reach on your own, a firm, beckoning gesture as if he were willing your orgasm to come hither. 
It was working. Your insides tingle, a tightness pulling straight from your gut and shooting out to your fingers and toes. Beyond control by this point, your hand pulls his hair tightly. To your amazement, his other hand reaches out to you, seeking, and you lace your fingers in his own. 
As soon as your digits touched, you were gone. Your release plummets out of you, shaking through every bone you have, leaving you a twitching puddle of a woman. His fingers chase after it, dragging every inch of squelching pleasure out of your insides until you're tugging him away and begging for it to stop. 
As he moved back up your body, licking and sucking as he did so, you tried to think of an answer to the smug grin he was just about to flash at you. 
There was none. Brain unravelled, threads wound into your nerves instead of your thoughts, you laid there, ruminating on how he'd made you come faster than any other man.
Eddie hovered over you, nose nudging your own. He must have wiped his mouth at some point whilst you were in la la land. 
“Hey pretty girl.”
“Eddie, you're really fuckin’ good at that.”
“I know.”
You laugh, tapping his side.
“Cocky.”
“Confident.”
Before you can retort his mouth is back on you, peppering kisses to your jaw, as his solid member presses into your naked heat.
“Fuck Eddie, please, please please-”
“Please what baby girl?” He asks, then sucks a hickey on your neck. 
Pulling him towards you by his shirt collar, you bite down sharply on his earlobe, pulling a little groan from his chest.
“I want you to stuff me full Eddie. I'm- I'm on birth control. Fill me up.” 
You can practically feel Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Fuck, you can't just say that, I nearly busted in my pants!” 
Pulling himself off you for the shortest time he could, he peels his t-shirt over his head and flops back on top of you. Desperate kisses and urgent gropes spill from you both; grinding, needy things that tore at clothes and grasped at flesh. 
After fiddling and failing with his belt, you huff and tug harshly at his waistband. He chuckles, biting at your bottom lip as he unlatches it with ease and then wriggles his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency. 
More desperate grasps, teeth and tongues clashing violently, your hand reaching down to clutch at his- 
“Holy hell!” 
His eyes widen, hands coming to a halt, waiting for the rest of your sentence. You're too busy trying to glance down his front as he hovers over you, your fist firmly stroking his hardened cock.
“You're huge Eddie!” 
He smirks and thrusts into your hand, the velvet smoothness of his dick massaged  by your palm. 
“Bet you say that to all the guys.”
“Er, no, Rick's made some truth serum or some shit because that's the biggest I've ever felt.” 
You guide him firmly towards your entrance, dragging the tip of his enlarged cock through your slickened folds. He quivers over you, arms thick with tension. 
“Baby girl just, just slip it inside, please-” 
“Now who's begging?” 
Grinning mischievously, you wait for him to start forming an answer with his mouth when you slip the head inside your sopping opening. His open mouth turns into a long drawn out moan. 
You would tease him if the feeling of him splitting you open wasn't all consuming. Which it fucking is. He just keeps pushing, and pushing, until his chest is flush with yours and he's mumbling platitudes in your ear. 
“Doing so good for me. Such a naughty, naughty girl. Getting filled up by her drug dealer? Baby girls a little dirty, isn't she?”
You're trying not to let him know how much his words affect you, but the fluttering of your satin like walls tells a different story. 
“You're not my dealer.” 
“Oh really? I'm not?” 
Pulling out nearly all the way and pushing back in, you bite your lip at the drag against your insides.
“Dealer implies I buy shit. You just give it to me, like a little simp.”
Eddie's mouth drops open in mock outrage.
“You want me to give it to you now? I'll fucking give it to you baby.” 
Hooking an arm under your thigh, Eddie thrusts into you hard and devastatingly deep. And again, and again, until you start moaning wantonly right in his face, all bravado forgotten.
“Yeah? Atta girl. That good baby? Wanna feel me right here?” 
His other hand pushes against your lower stomach, the pressure deepening the pleasure he's giving you tenfold. 
“Oh Eddie, oh fuckfuckfuck!!” 
Your release explodes out of your cunt with a gush, liquid spurting out of you so hard you nearly force his impressive length out. It waves drastically, like the sea against the shore, washing and washing over you until it's hard to breathe. 
“Baby, baby! Holy shit, I think you squirted.” 
“Ya think? My God, that was… mind blowing.” 
“Yeah?” 
Looking up at him, you expect that arrogant grin, but he just looks pleased and innocent. Like a kid at Christmas. 
“Yeah, fuck yeah.”
Rolling him over with all the power left in your thighs, you pin him down and move firmly into him, ferality taking over your actions. 
“Jesus Christ, you are a dirty girl, aren't you?” 
“Maybe just a little.” 
Smirking, you hump against him, your swollen clit bumping against his pubic bone on each delicious pass. 
“Holy shit, I'm not complaining- fuck, what the- what are you doing? Jesus Christ!” 
You bounce hard on him. Seeing him writhe under you is a special kind of power, one you aren't willing to let go of. Ever.
“Fuck, b-baby girl, you're gonna make me come!” 
His intense moans spur you on further. Unable to bounce so much on shaky knees you snuggle down close to him, arms clutching his shoulders, as you grind into him. It's massaging sensations into your clit, as well as teasing your g spot with his imposing length. 
“I can't, I’m-  baby girl-” 
“I'm gonna come, Eddie please, fill me up, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel your cum inside me, please, fuckin’ breed me Eddie. Oh fuck!” 
Quivering against him uncontrollably, your legs give out, collapsing on his body as he tenses and releases inside of you. It spurs your own orgasm, snaking up your spine and gripping on your system like a fly caught in honey. An open mouthed scream is all you give him, silent but chock full of feeling, as your back arches in its own tension. 
As it curls out of you, your back gives up, and you flop forward, bones turned to pudding. 
“Well.” is all that comes out, a puff of a word, just air escaping from a collapsing chest.
“Well.” Eddie responds, waiting for what you're about to say. 
You're sure he doesn't expect it. A laugh bubbles out; a weird, inside laugh, that you probably should never share with anyone. But it keeps coming. And coming. Laughing uncontrollably, you roll off of him and try to get your stomach muscles in check. 
You'd be worried about his reaction, if he wasn't laughing with you. It was this odd mixture of tension and relief that was bursting in the air, a barrier broken and left crumbling at your feet. 
“Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.” 
“Yeah?”
‘Yeah.”
His heated hand found yours, and squeezed your fingers hard. For some reason, it felt more intimate than all of this combined. 
Giggling again, you lean into his chest, fingers dipping up to weave into his hair. 
“Baby girl, you can't just-” 
“What? Pull your hair? Because you like it?” 
Tugging on his hair dramatically, Eddie tosses his head back and groans. 
“Knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah, certified genius. It's like you don't wanna be railed again.” 
Huffing, you pull yourself on top of him again, hardened nipples brushing softly against his flesh. 
“Oh, I think I'll be the one railing you. You wanna make a bet, for next time?” 
Smug grin forgotten, Eddie stares at you in disbelief.
“Next time?” 
“Well, I hope so. Got to be the best I've ever had.” 
Stupid Rick and his stupid strain. 
“Best you've ever had?” 
“Fuck you.” 
“Only if you wanna.” 
The teasing stopped. At least for now. It was pretty clear, your need for each other was outranking any goading you'd been sharing. 
At least for now… 
Taglist (Some permanents, some likely candidates, if you want to be added, jus say the word sweetheart)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson
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sundrop-writes · 2 months
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Careful - Chapter One
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter One: Over Yet
We can go farther, beyond the end.
Summary:
You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.
That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.
Word Count: 5,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?
A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.
...
The team had been in Portland for three days.
No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers. 
A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers. 
“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?” 
He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers. 
Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad. 
Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects. 
Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete. 
They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree. 
“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.” 
She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued. 
“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.” 
“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized. 
“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.” 
“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.” 
Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on: 
“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.” 
“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.” 
“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration. 
“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him. 
“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.” 
“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.” 
He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it. 
“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on. 
“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.” 
“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.” 
“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.” 
“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” 
Prentiss visibly cringed at this. 
“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together. 
Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought. 
“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.” 
She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain. 
“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?” 
“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory. 
“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.” 
“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit. 
This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again. 
“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room. 
“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 
“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her. 
“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.” 
“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued. 
Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain. 
“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?” 
Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile. 
“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.” 
“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced. 
A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from. 
“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.” 
“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk. 
“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.” 
“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-” 
“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.” 
“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned. 
“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,” 
“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”
“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed. 
“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.” 
“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.” 
“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.” 
… 
The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office. 
After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through. 
So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 
“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned. 
“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed. 
“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 
The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it. 
It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever. 
It was you. 
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 
Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully. 
Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day - 
You had a son. 
A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now. 
And his birth date was… fuck. 
He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again. 
One thousand, seven hundred and two days. 
Four years, eight months, and two days. 
It wasn’t difficult math. 
Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child? 
His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.  
Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life? 
Had you been keeping this from him intentionally? 
He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with. 
What the fuck was going on? 
There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 
Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe- 
“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention. 
Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically. 
“Did you find something?” 
… 
All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them. 
So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before. 
It could definitely work. 
When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone. 
So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house. 
“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,” 
“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts. 
He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air. 
“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?” 
JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend. 
Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated. 
Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation. 
The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up. 
But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago. 
Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again. 
It had been four years. 
JJ was someone he could lean on right now. 
“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest. 
“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked. 
“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it. 
“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?” 
It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look. 
“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned. 
“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.” 
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer. 
“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.” 
“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 
“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 
It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 
“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.” 
There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time). 
She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world. 
So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby? 
“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud. 
Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together. 
“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment. 
That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face. 
“One thing at a time, alright?” 
When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning. 
It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother. 
Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 
He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly. 
And now the two of you likely had a child together. 
Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang. 
“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.” 
She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you. 
He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing. 
He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’. 
Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open. 
At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return. 
You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone. 
Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you. 
But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock. 
He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever. 
“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 
You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot. 
You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.
So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him. 
You were breath-taking. 
“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already. 
You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock. 
Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date. 
The first night that he knew he was in love with you. 
… 
He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra. 
It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on. 
It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night. 
Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness. 
It was a perfect night. 
Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat. 
His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves. 
And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled. 
“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. 
You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place. 
“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?” 
Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic. 
“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.” 
“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this. 
Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued. 
“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.” 
“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.” 
Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer. 
“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.” 
Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more. 
“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this. 
“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.” 
You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more. 
“Interesting.” You replied. 
“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” 
Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail. 
“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.” 
Spencer let out another bright laugh at this. 
“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.” 
“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile. 
“And see-” 
Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his. 
He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin. 
It was perfect. You were perfect. 
You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was. 
But Spencer was nothing like that. 
He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips. 
When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours. 
“That was… wow.” He sighed. 
“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle. 
“Well, I - you - wow.” 
It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter. 
Back then - everything had been perfect. 
He had no clue where it all went so wrong.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Two - Liar
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pinknipszz · 5 days
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heian era sukuna x reader →
(a/n: loosely inspired by that one jessica rabbit scene; this is also borderline uraume/reader bc theyre so cute ugh)
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people don’t understand how you can love the king of curses. his figure was grotesque—beyond repulsive—with four heavy hands that could snap your limbs into two if he so pleased. they can’t get past the four eyes either, but you found them charming. how could you not when he looked at you so sweetly? 
“where is my husband?” you inquire for the nth time, your voice as sweet as molasses as you tug at the ends of uraume’s sleeves. the humble servant doesn’t answer immediately; they know not to, and you don’t mind. while you wait, you watch the passerines tease the fish in the pond from your spot on the engawa.
uraume dips their elegant fude into the shallow inkstone beside you. calligraphy and whatnot. “lord sukuna is tending to matters in the southern provinces,” they answer with the same amount of patience they had a few minutes ago, and an hour before, and another before that. they must be used to it now.
“do you think he misses me?” comes a light brush against their pale hand. uraume exhales through their nose at your question, but not from exasperation. never that. “yes,” they say with utmost sincerity, like it’s gospel truth, before painting one long, flourishing stroke. “very much so.”
content, you cease your ministrations and fall on your back, giggling at the way your hair splays beneath your head. “he loves me,” you coo and cup your sun-kissed cheeks. “my husband loves me, and i love him too.” you think the edge of their lips twitch up into the barest hint of a smile.
but it vanishes before you can get a proper glimpse. sighing, uraume gives you a knowing look from the corner of their eye as they dip their fude back into the inkstone. you turn to lay on your side and watch how it absorbs the ink. “the servants, though adequate, have been quite bothersome lately.”
they finish the kanji in several swift strokes. 麗. rei for beauty. uraume continues. “there’s ill speak of your relationship with lord sukuna.” you count the passerines, letting the unspoken question hang in the air. shall i do something about it? it’s uraume’s turn to wait patiently for an answer, an ultimatum.
but you don’t give one so easily, preoccupied with an image that resurfaces in your mind: a group of servants—fresh off the cut and eager-eyed—gossiping by the water well. you don’t think they saw you, unless they were stupider than you thought, but they were loud enough to hear.
uraume is watching you, properly now, as you blow a stray strand of hair from your face. when they lean in to gently tuck it behind your ear, persimmons and plums permeate your senses. “do not bother with them. they talk because they do not understand why i love him,” you decide with finality.
“and why do you love him?” there’s a hint of fondness in their voice, reserved for you.
you look up through your delicate lashes, smiling cheekily. “he makes me laugh.”
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(masterlist) | (a/n: would yall hate me if I wrote uraume/reader's pls be honest)
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fawnindawn · 23 days
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even at our worst, we know we'll still be okay (luke castellan x apollo fem! reader)
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summary: Where Percy's insistent pestering forces Luke to rethink on his possibly not platonic feelings for you, his best friend, and Percy's questions are answered for him with Luke's reaction to you being heavily injured on your return from your quest.
pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader
a/n: i'm actually in love with this, maybe it's just the friends-to-lovers in me (where a love confession happens because one of them was near death's door-) but man.. also, i love including percy so much he's such a kid.
masterlist for this series
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"Face it, man. You're whipped."
Percy watched Luke choke on his water, coughing as he tried to swallow past the sudden accusation. Wiping at the excess that dripped past his chin, Luke raised a brow at Percy.
"Whipped? For who?" Luke questioned, eyes averting and staring straight ahead, beyond the training grounds towards the meadows in the distance, seemingly searching for something or just doing a poor job at avoiding Percy’s unimpressed stare.
“I’m not blind, as much as Annabeth claims, to this...love stuff.” Percy huffed, half in exasperation and half in exhaustion as he leaned forward using his sword to balance himself. “You’ve been depressed ever since she left for her quest.”
Luke doesn’t need to hear your name to know who Percy was referring to. It’s been weeks since you were chosen by your father, Apollo, to descend on some mighty quest to fetch back his lyre that had been stolen. It wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous quest, but Luke had felt his gut sinking when he first heard the news from you.
“Why does he need to send you out there, where you could possibly be tracked down by monsters to get back a musical instrument of all things?” Luke snapped, exasperated as he runs his fingers through his curls, pacing back and forth in the Hermes Cabin, while you laid on his mattress looking undeniably calmer than he was.
“Luke, my dad won’t purposely send me on some death trap. I'll be fine.” You tried to reassure him, waiting for him to calm down in his pacing before you extended your hands in his direction right as he turned to make another round through the cabin for the seventh time. “Hey, come here.” You gestured. “Sit with me.”
He hesitated, stopping in his tracks as he finally took the time to look at you, noting your concerned expression at him. As if you weren’t about to descend on some ridiculous quest to god knows where all because your father couldn’t pluck up the effort to collect the instrument himself.
The longer your hands stayed outstretched for him, the more his anger and frustration dissolved into the overwhelming need to be near you. One second, he’s standing and the next, he’s laying in bed with you, your arms wrapped around him to stabilise him even though he should be the stronger one. The one to look out for you.
Laying his head on your shoulder as he wrapped one of his fingers around your hair, curling it in his palms, he spoke again in a soft whisper only for you to hear. “I’m worried.”
“I know.” You responded, your hands tracing at the curve of his shoulder, stopping at his collarbone, before your finger moved to tilt his face by the chin to look at you. “You trust me, right?” You ask, knowing his answer but wanting to hear the reassurance all the same.
“Course' I do.” He replied immediately, his eyes intense as he made eye contact with you. That was without question. You could ask him to walk into blazing flames, and he'd trust you would ask for good reason.
“Then you can trust that I’ll make it back alive.”
“Alive can mean lots of things.” He muttered, his eyes growing distant, the ghost of blood and a stinging burn running down the half of his face appearing uninvited in his mind.
“I’ll make it back alive and unharmed.” You reiterated, a knowing look in your eyes as you unconsciously traced at his scar, leaving warmth where it resides, making him shiver instinctively. “It’s a promise, Luke.”
He stayed silent, before slowly moving his hand to cup yours that rested over his scar. “I’m counting on it, sunshine.”
That promise rested over Luke’s conscience, gnawing at the back of his heels, chasing him daily from the early hours as he forced himself not to break over the stress and anxiety before putting on his golden boy facade, to pretend that he wasn't constantly distracted and nauseous over the thought of something happening to you without him being there to protect you.
He would've snuck out of camp if he could, just to find you, but Chiron had been tight-lipped on your destination, his all-knowing gaze piercing right through Luke when he had tried to nonchalantly ask about your whereabouts.
"I wish I could help you, Luke." Chiron had told Luke a few days after you had gone. "However, Apollo's request was clear. Only she shall take on this quest. No one else." The pin-point gaze Chiron had locked onto Luke made it clear he was talking about him.
"I am not whipped." Luke denied. "She's my friend. Like how you're my friend."
"I don't think your friendship with her is normal though." Percy fired back quickly, sipping on his own water as if he didn't casually demolish the older boy. "I swear I caught you bringing her back after curfew to your cabin, a few times in fact."
Luke felt his cheeks flush at Percy's sudden interrogation, smashing facts after facts on an early Tuesday morning. "I've been having.. nightmares lately. She's the only one who keeps them away." He didn't know why he felt like he had to explain himself to the kid, but the longer his friendship with you went under fire, the faster he wanted to get out of this conversation.
"You don't think that's something you should think deeper about?" Percy muttered with a shrug.
Luke is left speechless, his mind short-cutting at the sudden implication of.. him feeling something more for you? His most recent memories flashed through his mind. You tucked under his blanket as you laid beside him for the last night before your quest, a sleepy smile etched on your lips before you whispered him goodnight and he pulled you into his chest so he could feel your heart beating against his to push away any tricks currently playing on his mind, bringing light to how you're the only person he believes could calm him down and bring him peace-
"She's my best friend." Luke replied, more to himself than to Percy. "I'm just worried for her. A quest like that shouldn't take so long, and I keep imagining-"
He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to say his fears out in the open in fear that his words would jinx it, but Percy knew where he was getting at. Percy inched closer to Luke, moving to pat him awkwardly on the back in an effort to comfort him. "It's normal to be worried. From what I heard from Annabeth, you two are really close. I didn't have much conversations with her before she left, but she seems brave, and smart too. I have no doubts she'll make it back. If she's half as good as you, there's no way she wouldn't."
Luke felt a real smile crossing his face, the corners of his lips quirked up at Percy's words. "She's not half as good- she is better than me." He turned to look at Percy, that shine in his eyes noticeable as he talked about you. "Don't let her hear that when she gets back though, she'll talk my ear off for ages."
Percy returned his own smile, elated to see Luke have some improvement in his mood, proof being the first genuine smile Percy's seen in weeks coming from him.
"So.. do you want to stop for today?" Percy attempted with a casual tone.
"Why? Backing out already?" Luke teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he inched towards the kid jokingly with his sword raised.
"No!" Percy denied frantically. "I swear I'm not using the sympathy card as an excuse to get out of training-"
The sounds of a horn cut off his words, groaning across the camp, reaching the training grounds in record time. Luke felt his heart palpitate, nearly crashing into his rib cage.
He barely had time to think, yelling to Percy with urgency flying off his tongue. "Catch you later, Perce!" Then, he was off, his legs carrying him up the hills and back towards the camp entrance.
He heard Percy yell his name in confusion, but he could apologise later for his sudden departure.
You had come back to him.
The journey seemed too long, his shoes scrambling for ground, barely scraping the dirt as he ran towards the front of camp. He didn't know what to expect, a celebration with cheers from the other campers on your arrival, a glimpse of your face with that smile he loves. What he didn't expect was the silence as he came towards a slow jog before ultimately stopping at what seemed to be a crowd gathering around something- or someone.
He pushed his way through, barely making the effort to apologise over the thought of seeing you. His eyes finally caught onto what the onlookers were staring at, and his heart dropped.
You laid on the ground, passed out with what seemed to be dark, angry coils covering your skin, ranging from your neck to the outstretch of your back that was exposed from the gash in your shirt. That stupid lyre laid not too far from you, its golden strings ripped apart.
The sound that tore from his throat barely sounded like his voice, yelling out your name as he pushed through the final barrier in the crowd before reaching for you. He nearly made it before someone dragged him back, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.
The curses that left Luke's mouth would make anyone wince, and he had to resist the urge to punch whoever was holding him back as he twisted his head to face his repressor. "Chris! Get out of my way." Luke hissed, still trying to make his way to you, fury twisting in his gut as he couldn't fathom why no one's helped you yet.
"Calm down, Luke!" Chris pleaded, desperation in his eyes forcing Luke to falter. "I know you want to help her but you have to listen to me. Whatever attacked her left something contagious on her body. Someone already tried helping her but it spread to their skin too!"
Wait? While whatever was attacking your body seemed to grow more intense by the minute, as Luke's gaze locked onto your form and watched the sickening, black coils spread further and further up your neck.
"Rodriguez, does it look like I care if it spreads to me?" Luke spat out, giving his friend a final push. "If she dies, I won't ever forgive myself for standing on the sidelines. Let me go now."
The cold venom in his tone made his friend loosen his hold just enough for Luke to rip himself out of his arms to drop his knees beside you. He grabbed hold of your shoulder, which still had shreds of your shirt to prevent him from being stung by whatever was infecting you, but his other hand which grabbed hold of your back did not face the same fate. The coils snaked onto his palm, and he gritted his teeth at the burning sensation.
Just as he turned you around so he could lift you up, he heard the familiar sound of hooves stamping against the soil and he looked up to see Chiron approaching with a grim expression. No words needed to be said as Luke met eyes with the centaur, a mutual understanding as Luke wrapped his arms around your torso and legs.
He pushed through to help carry you up, barking orders for the crowd to part way as he made his way to the infirmary. The longer he held onto you, the more every bone in his body seemed to scream to let you go, but he only focused on every step it took to get you closer to help, his eyes unable to look away from the paleness of your skin, the blue to your lips.
It seemed unfit for a child of Apollo, a child of the sun, to be dull and lifeless. You looked dead, and if it wasn't for the faint drumming of your pulse he could sense from your wrist, he would've struck the name of your father with such unbridled hatred, Apollo himself would descend from the heavens to condemn him.
"Please." He begged, holding onto you tighter despite his body's cries not to. Begging to who, he did not know, but if any being could save you from the fate you did not deserve, and pass it to him instead, he would gladly offer his prayers and worship. If it meant saving you, he would take your pain and suffer it tenfold just to see you open your eyes again.
It took you five days to recover. The infirmary had been quarantined and no one save for Chiron and Will, the main healer from the Apollo cabin, was allowed in. In those five days, no one dared approach Luke, who seemed near death's door despite having received his own small dosage of ambrosia to heal the coils that had managed to sink into his skin. He had begged Chiron to let him visit you, but Chiron deemed him too unstable to be near you, your recovery process a fragile thing that required tentative hands and patience.
Waiting to see you was a torture not even he could have envisioned for himself. He had been torn apart at the seams, of his belief in the gods and the scars that were immortalized onto his body. He had lived through days of water and nothing but false hope, hiding from monsters and other horrors before he made it to camp, arriving as a scrawny boy with eyes having witnessed events no kid his age should have to go through. Yet, no pain he had experienced could compare to his fears of losing you. If he-
He couldn't think of it without wanting to puke, but if he lost you somehow, he would lose his faith in this world. There would be no one to hold him back, no you, to stop him from letting go of the world that failed him and tearing it down.
It didn't help that in those five days, he had dreams. Of a different world, of salvation. A dark, ancient voice called to him, older than time, with whispers of promised glory and revenge. There was no you, none of your soothing touches or voice to wake him. In those five days, his strength faltered and he made a deal.
On the sixth day, he was woken frantically by a shake on the shoulder from his sleep. He roused awake, dizzy and still-half asleep to see Chris talking to him in rushed incoherent words.
"Awake- She's awake, sleepy-head!"
Luke was half-dressed, still fighting off sleep with aggressive rubbing to his eyes as he tugged on his t-shirt, rushing towards the infirmary with Chris hot on his heels.
He burst through the front door, holding his breath when he finally saw you, propped up on two pillows talking to Will. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision as he rushed over to you.
You turned to him then, just in time to see him blink his tears away. "Luke." You called to him softly, and time seemed to stop just for the two of you, and he could only see you in his vision.
"Can you guys give us some privacy?" You asked politely, eyeing Will and Chris, but your eyes never drifted far before moving back to him.
"Of course." Will responded, quickly getting up from his chair towards the exit, dragging a confounded Chris with him with a tug on the back of his shirt. "Hey! I wanted to see her too-" "Give the two lovebirds some time alone, you idiot."
Luke inched closer to you, his heart beating so loudly in his eardrums he swears you could hear it too. You lifted your arms to him and he didn't waste time, taking you in his arms and embracing you so tight, and yet he felt he couldn't be close enough.
"You were dying. In my arms. I felt it when I carried you in here." He muttered into your shoulder, shaking as he finally let out the exhaustion and pain he had been feeling since the day you left.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." You apologised, rocking him back and forth as your voice croaked up. "All I thought of was you. When I fought against that beast, I kept repeating my promise to you. That I would come back to you. You saved me."
He shook his head, feeling his tears wet his cheeks as he pulled back to grab you by the chin, a gentle touch like he was afraid you would disappear if he couldn't see you talking to him, that your voice would be a hallucination he concocted. "I should've stopped you from going. I had a bad feeling since I heard about it. I should've protected you- prevented you from getting hurt in the first place-"
You stopped him with a kiss, desperate yet shy, before pulling away and pressing your forehead to his. "I love you, Luke. I was so scared I would never get to tell you and it would've been my biggest regret. I love you so much, Luke, and I'm sorry if this ruins anything between us but I can't hide it anymore-"
Luke cut you off the very same way you did, but with such intense hunger you gasped when he kissed you, sloppy and with even more desperation, tugging at your bottom lip and pulling you closer with his hand at nape of your neck. "I love you." He muttered through quick breaths. "I love you, it actually hurts because of how much I do." He admitted, grabbing your hand to place right above his heart, which is owned completely and only by you.
He leaned in once more, addicted to the taste of you, kissing you with one hand holding yours to his heart, the other pulling you close so that there was no space between the two of you. When he had to stop so you both could gasp for air, he pressed his forehead back to yours, the first smile stretching at his lips in days. "I never want to be apart from you ever again, you hear me, sunshine?"
You giggled at his words, nodding slightly. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Extra: Luke reappears with you the next day when you insisted on wanting to get out of the infirmary after being cooped up away from the sun for so long. ("You're such an Apollo kid." Luke teases, which you ignore with a roll of your eyes.) He's with you every step of the way, and now that your feelings are out for each other in the open, he doesn't hesitate to kiss you on the cheek or fawn over you without hiding his intensity.
When he makes eye contact with Percy over the room, the damn kid gives him a wink and a thumbs-up.
a/n: i want to expand so much more on this, with kronos taking advantage of luke's weak mind during your recovery and more, OMGGGGGGG. tell me if you guys want more pls and i'll make more parts. thank you for reading if you made it this far <3
update: I am officially making this into a series called ‘everything in between’. To those who want to follow more on their story, you can comment on whether you want to be added to the tag list for this series or check the masterlist!
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byuntrash101 · 9 months
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the drill
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reader x switch!yunho ft. wooyoung and mingi smut | mdni 6.8k yunho cant seem to pick up anyone at the club. for two main reasons, two problems if you will. the first one: his rizz level is negative and the second one... well it's bigger. much, much bigger. a huge problem wooyoung has named "the drill"
nsfw tags under the cut
alcohol consumption, ons to lovers (?), yunho's kind of a loser but so are you, mingi is a fuck boy, woo is the annoyingly clairvoyant friend <3, switch dom leaning!yunho, pushing the monster cock!yunho agenda (consider this fic a peer reviewed academic study), no but seriously he's H.U.G.E., size training, oral (m & f), very difficult blowjob (because duhh), choking on cock (duh x2), a dash of spit kink, fingering, pet names (baby, good girl), praising, protected sex (good job kids), bulge kink, slight edging, slight begging (not my fic without it lol), slight cumplay
a/n: i had a blasttt writing this im pretty happy with this i hope you will enjoy reading it too. thank you @cybrsan for beta reading this. you are so kind and i learned a lot <3
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Yunho didn't even know why he stood here. He didn't know how he let Wooyoung and Mingi drag him to yet an other party. To this packed night club while he originally invited them over to play league of legends, maybe drink a couple of beers and chill. Cause that's what he wanted to do. He wanted to spend a quiet night in, hearing Mingi complain about how he didn't want to play healer anymore and having Wooyoung shatter his eardrums with that infuriating hyena laugh of his.
And that? That was the exact complete opposite of it.
There was nothing quiet and chill about this night. Only one thing was still on the order of business. His ear drums were being damaged beyond repair, not by the high pitched laugh but by the loud and bass boosted blaring noise music. He could already feel the headache coming in.
Yunho brought the lukewarm and flat beer to his lips. He finished the drink with a grimace before setting it on the edge of the bar, his eyes scanning the amalgamation of sweaty bodies grinding and pressing against each other.
"Why the long face?" Wooyoung asked as he slipped to his tall friend's side.
Yunho sighed and chose to answer the question with another one.
"Why did you bring me here again?" He asked, round eyes turning sharp as he peered at the younger man.
"Oh I don't know," Wooyoung started sarcastically. "Maybe to drag you out of your cave for once?" He replied in disbelief, he should be grateful he’s being such a good friend to him!
Yunho only rolled his eyes and grunted in annoyance at his response. Why did he care this much that he enjoyed staying in and being on his own? 
"Look at Mingi," Wooyoung said over the music. Yunho followed his gaze to glance at his other friend on the other side of the club. "He knows how to have a good time!" Wooyoung said with a smirk.
Yunho quirked his eyebrow as he observed Mingi chatting up not one but two girls. Whispering something in one girl's ear while he curled his arm around the waist of the other one. Making them both giggle and look up at him while he peered at them over his sunglasses. 
Mingi was Yunho’s friend. Maybe even his best friend but… he looked like a douche.
"What kind of guy wears sunglasses inside… at night?" Yunho spat.
"The kind that gets bitches," Wooyoung remarked, jabbing at Yunho. 
"Fuck off Woo," Yunho barked at him. 
Yeah so what? Yes it had been a hot minute since he found himself being… intimate with a girl but it wasn't his fault! It was only because of his… issue…
"Come on dude. You don't have to stay bitchless, you know?" Wooyoung nudged his tall friend. "Why don't you try your luck with one of the dozens of women here that came for the same thing as you?"
"I," Yunho emphasized. "Did not come for that." He cleared his throat. "And you know I never get very far Woo!" He barked again. Truthfully Wooyoung was getting on his nerves.
"Bro! There's no way you can't find just ONE girl here that would be willing to take on the drill?"
Yunho shushed him and looked around him frantically as if anyone could have heard him over the blaring music.
"I already told you not to call it that!!" Of course Wooyoung only laughed at his friend's concern.
"I'm sorry but it's only the truth. Like that massive thing can only be handled by a licensed professional." He laughed again.
"Fuck off!" Yunho repeated, unconsciously crossing his hands over his lower half. 
“No, but seriously. You just gotta find one that matches the vibe,” Wooyoung said, his eyes narrowing into a sly frown. His gaze wiped over the crowd while Yunho only sighed, turning his back to his friends to go get another beer. 
“Wait,” Wooyoung gripped on his shirt before Yunho had the time to flee his friend’s ridiculous plan. “What about this one?”
The tall man followed Wooyoung’s finger pointing at a girl sitting at the bar, seemingly alone and absentmindedly stirring the mint leaves in her mojito.
“Woo, can you please shut up for a second while I get myself another overpriced beer and try to forget about this conversation forever? Thank you!” Yunho said, exasperated and turning on his heels again.
“No, no, no! Dude,” Wooyoung called him out again, holding his friend by his side. The shorter man rolled his eyes at his tall friend’s stubbornness. “I really have a good feeling about her.” Wooyoung insisted.
“And why is that?” Yunho asked, obvious mockery underlining his tone.
“Look at her, man!” Wooyoung pointed, choosing to completely ignore his friend's sarcasm. “She’s slumping over the bar counter, she’s been stirring her mojito for the past ten minutes but hasn’t had a single sip of it. She keeps looking over at Mingi with a scornful pout and look! In a second she’s gonna check her watch again.” he paused for a second. “See!!” Wooyoung exclaimed and turned to his friend who looked rather unimpressed. “She’s like you, man! She does not want to be here and she’s at least as lonely as you.”
Yunho frowned at the younger man, that last bit was totally unnecessary. 
“Plus, she’s pretty! I know she’s your style.” Yunho frowned in an attempt to deny Wooyoung but it was true. Wooyoung felt like he was gaining the upper hand in the negotiations so he continued.
“You should go talk to her. Just talk!” Wooyoung added when he saw Yunho open his mouth to protest again. “I mean just talk, see if it goes anywhere and if it doesn't, then it doesn’t and I promise I’ll kick Mingi’s ass back into the car and drive us all home right that second!” He pledged.
Yunho looked over again at his tall friend and his two targets of the night. Even though Mingi was considerably taller and bulkier than Wooyoung he knew about the latter’s determination and sheer force of will that would turn any wolf into a sheepish puppy. So he didn’t doubt one second that he would be doing just that.
But first at had to “shoot his shot” with… you.
The girl moping at the bar, as if a rain cloud was perpetually following her around. And there was a good reason for it. You recently got dumped. Your friends took you out to this club to celebrate and hopefully get you over him. Truthfully, you had felt relieved because Jongho was just a jerk to you and you have been slipping out of love for a while but still! It hurt that you had to come to the realization that it was over for real this time around.
Granted you were in fact single but you were not so ready to mingle…yet. At some point in the evening they got tired of trying to cheer you up and just left you at the bar to enjoy the company of your little rain cloud by yourself.
“You don’t look like you’re having a great time either,” Yunho said, ordering another beer for himself. The deep voice pulled you out of your day dreaming as you looked up at him with round eyes. “Can I sit here?” he asked and you nodded silently. He didn’t let it show but he’s actually kind of relieved you didn’t turn him down on the spot.
“Yeah I'm not having the time of my life that’s for sure,” you sighed, clinking the melting ice cubes against the glass with your soggy paper straw.
“Why?” Yunho asked while casually wiping his sweaty palms over his distressed jeans.
You bit your lip. Trauma dumping about your not-so-prince-charming jerkface of an ex to a total stranger wasn’t probably the best idea in the world even if the alcohol in your system said otherwise, luckily you still had far too few drinks to start this conversation. So you opted for the easy going explanation.
“My friends ditched me for Mr. Tall-Douchebag over there.” 
Yunho followed your gesture to Mingi bending over to whisper something in a girl's ear as he slid his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose while his other hand held onto the other girl’s bare waist, rubbing his thumb on her skin as she giggled, the cropped top she was wearing not concealing the patch of skin there.
Mingi was Yunho’s friend but he was also a dog. And that was just the plain truth despite the fact that their friendship went back to middle school.
“Yeah that guy looks like an asshole,” Yunho said in all sincerity.
“No shit,” you scoffed “What kind of giga chad wears sunglasses in a club… at night?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and finally brought your straw to your lips to take a sip of the diluted mojito.
Yunho started to laugh. Maybe Wooyoung wasn't wrong after all. There was something about you that was right for Yunho, somehow your vibes matched. He even started to relax ever so slightly next to you.
“But did you say ‘either’?” you questioned. “Does that imply you too are not having a grand ol’ time?”
Yunho chuckled humorlessly.
“Well, no. Not really,” he confessed as he grabbed the beer the barman was handing out and shoved a couple of wrinkled bills in his hand in exchange.
You returned the mojito to the bar counter and turned to him, now that he was seeing you a little better you were indeed pretty, prettier than what the bar’s red and purple neons were leading on from a distance. But up close Yunho realized Wooyoung was right about that too, you were his type. 
He swallowed thickly, your undivided attention brought back a sense of nervousness into him and he sipped on his beer for a small dose of liquid courage. “I invited a couple of my friends over and we were supposed to stay in and play League but instead they ganged up on me and dragged me here,” he sighed. 
That was the truth! Yunho only carefully omitted all the parts where his friends made him sound like a lonely loser. So that wasn’t a lie! It was curated truth. He sipped on his beer once again to ease his nerves.
You gasped loudly and Yunho’s eyebrows arched in surprise at your reaction.
“Oh I wished I would have done that too,” you pouted, before taking another sip. “And how did they convince you to end up here then?” you asked once again, setting the glass down and looking up at the tall brunette seated next to you.
Uh oh.
That was bad. Yunho wasn’t actually the best at performing under pressure. And especially when said pressure was looking at him with beautiful shiny lips and such a wholesome and genuine smile.
“Well I-...uh,” Yunho started to stammer which seemed to entertain you as the genuine smile turned into an amused little grin. The tall man brushed his long bangs back in an attempt to regain his composure which worked to some extent. “I’ve been on my own for a while, too long if you listen to my friends and they said that maybe they could find me a nice girl to… keep me company,” he said before clearing his throat and attempting to push the lump in his throat back with two large gulps of cool beer.
Wow, that was lame. So much for not sounding like a total loser…
“And I'm the nice girl you settled for?” you asked, breaking eye contact. Yunho felt uneasy again, he couldn't make of your expression right there. Did he blow his chance by being too sincere with you? And why did he feel so bad that he just might have? Did he want to impress you that bad? When initially he only wanted to exchange a couple of sentences just to call it quits and get Wooyoung to drive him home but now was he actually trying?
“Too honest maybe?” Yunho said before pinching his lip between his teeth as you shrugged nonchalantly and took another sip. 
Yes, maybe a little too honest indeed you thought as you sipped on the drink that was basically only water at this point. You were just another girl that was to be used to feel a little less lonely…
“Ughh. I suck at this,” Yunho groaned in frustration.
“At what?” you asked, his tone peaking your curiosity right when you thought you had figured him out.
“At this!” Yunho said, gesturing at the air between the both of you. “At chatting up pretty girls! At flirting!” He sighed again, feeling defeated.
Key word: pretty. 
You grinned, you too felt lonely and you figured there was no harm in helping each other out. For tonight at least.
“It’s okay,” you said, suddenly wrapping your hand around his, tightly holding the beer pint. Which made him stiffen in the uncomfortable bar stool. “I don't really like the smooth talkers anyways.” You sent him a cheeky wink and Yunho felt like his stomach had somehow acquired a trampoline. 
“Really?” he said, lips going round in surprise, eyes snapping to where you were rubbing small circles on the back of his hand.
“Yeah,” you chuckled, satisfied with the effet this simple touch had on him. “I’m not really into fuck boys,” you said, gesturing to the tall man in sun glasses once more.
Yunho knew you were referencing Mingi again but he didn’t have it in him to peel his eyes off you to look at him. His eyes traveled from your hand, up the curve of your arm, to the low neckline of your beautiful black dress (where he stayed longer than he intended) and finally (with much effort) to your own eyes fixated in his. Yunho was mesmerized, like a shipwrecked sailor being bewitched by the chant of a siren, like a parched pariah catching sight of an oasis on the horizon after days of wandering in the desert. 
“So…” he started hesitantly, his heart beating against his ribs and resonating in his ears. “If I offered you a ride home to get out of this hell hole and get to know each other, would you maybe say yes?” 
It wasn’t a coincidence that Yunho spoke in the conditional tense. He didn’t want to jinx himself, he never was the superstitious kind but as he was experiencing this streak of luck with you he found himself to be. 
You chuckled again at his cuteness. 
“Yes,” you said, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously. “Yes, I would.”
***
It wasn't long before you found yourselves tangled up into each other on your couch, your last drinks getting warm on the coffee table, barely even touched.
To your surprise, Yunho’s hold was gentle and patient. You felt comfortable in his arms as his warm and large palm gently pressed against your nape. His soft lips finding yours and pulling you in this delicate kiss, almost like a good morning kiss. It isn't rushed at all, like he has the whole day (or in this case night) to get to know you and to give you a thousand more. If he really was as touch deprived as he claimed to be he wasn't letting it on at all.
That raised suspicion on your side and you broke the kiss. Immediately Yunho’s eyes fluttered open and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worry taking over his features again.
“So,” you start, slightly shifting in his hold. “Tell me why you said you weren’t good at flirting again?” you say as you plant a soft kiss in the crook of his neck, making his Adam's apple bobble in his throat. He could feel himself getting hard and you felt his fingers lightly twitch around your nape. “Because to me it seems like you are pretty good at it.” You licked a large swipe on his blazing skin and drew back to look at him. “I mean, less than an hour ago I was moping on my own in the club…” you slipped your hand up his shirt to undo the first button. “And now I'm all over you, kissing you and about to do much more,” you whispered softly. The promise of what’s to come had Yunho’s length jumping between his thighs. 
“I thought you’d be all over me, tearing my clothes off the second I got to lock the doors. But there you are taking your sweet time. It doesn't add up.” You popped off another button and slipped your hands over his collar bone.
Yunho was torn between the heat that pooled in his stomach with every single one of your touches and the actual dread he felt to move things forward. Because he knew all too well what usually happened at this point of the story. 
And although it was actually fear that kept him from tearing every single article of clothing clean off your body, you mistook it for some kind of elaborate plan to get you alone.
“I’m actually pretty nervous, that's why I haven’t done… a lot more,” he said, hesitantly.
“About what, baby?” you cooed, latching your lips on his skin again, earning a cute little whimper, your fingers working their way down to the last couple of buttons still holding his shirt together.
The pet name made Yunho’s heart sing, thousands of butterflies launching in his stomach, sending waves of tingles towards his groin. 
“Because this is usually where it stops.” He let out a shaky breath as you pushed the cotton off one of his shoulders and let your fingertips drag across his soft skin, going down to his collarbone to his pecs to his abs. “Because the girls usually leave at this point.”
“Why?” you said, lips still pressed to his skin, hands reaching the button of his jeans.
“Because I’m…” Yunho hissed as your other hand came in to play with his nipple while you still went down, your hand brushing over the jeans. “Because I’m too big.”
There. He said it.
This coincided with the moment your hand laid over the colossal bulge in Yunho’s pants. You couldn't help but to stop everything, you stayed there frozen upon your discovery.
Yunho could only close his eyes shut as he felt you immobile all of a sudden. 
Well, it was fun while it lasted at least.
“I can go if you want me to,” he said as neutral as possible, but he couldn't help but let disappointment tint his voice. He can’t explain why but it felt different this time, he really wanted it to work with you. He wanted you.
“No!” you said as you held onto him when he shifted to get out of your hold and onto his feet. “Wait,” your fingers gliding over the bulge, moving once more. Instantly he sat down again against you. You cupped him, gauging the size and evaluating the challenge at hand, said challenge generously spilling out of your grasp as it could not be contained within your palm.
“We could at least try, right?”
“Really?” he exclaimed, before letting out a choked gasp as your grip grew a little tighter.
“Yeah,” you sighed, still gently rubbing over his hard on. “I’m determined and stubborn and my parents didn't raise no quitter,” you said, trying to throw some humor onto this to deescalate the situation and it did the trick.
“The only thing is… I don't think I have a condom that would fit you,” you say, suddenly bashful.
“Oh… hm. I brought mine” Yunho started to pat his pockets hastily. “It’s in my wallet, in my vest, in the… car,” he said, voice growing quieter as he realized he will have to go get it.
You then hopped on your feet. Yunho's hips instinctively bucking up, chasing the friction.
“How about you go get it and come back to meet me in the bedroom?”
Yunho only nodded vigorously before you turned on your feet and walked to one of the closed doors of the hall, he couldn't stop his eyes from falling down to look at your ass roll in the black dress as you walked away. You turned back before disappearing behind the door.
“Don't take too long, ok?” you teased him with a smile.
Yunho didn’t need more to snap him out of his trance and run, no, fly to his car. He barged in the hallway of the apartment complex, not even trying for the elevator, he knew with his long legs he'd be faster if he took the stairs. So he flew over the two flights of stairs and ran to his car to practically rip the wallet from the inner pocket of his coat and stuffed the condom in his back pocket before swallowing the two flights of stairs again and coming back into the apartment, short of breath. 
As afraid as he was a couple of minutes ago to go faster with you, now every second where he didn't have you to himself felt like an eternity.
The apartment was completely dark except for a ray of light that was coming from under the door you disappeared behind. Yunho velvet traded across the living room to the hall and to the door, guided by the line of light, the golden thread he ought to follow to reach heaven.
He delicately pushed in. And he felt like he had opened Pandora's box. He found you completely nude, waiting cross legged on the edge of your bed for him. The dim light from the nightstand sweeping across your form and casting the otherworldly shadow of your divine outline onto the wall. You were absolutely sublime. A sight that went straight to his groin, pumping brand new and boiling blood to his half hard member. 
You sat up straight putting both your feet flat on the ground as Yunho approached you. You held your palm flat to him without a word and he handed over the magnum condom in a black and gold packaging. You settled it on the nightstand before bringing your attention back to the elephant (quite fitting term) in the room. 
Now that he was standing close to you and you were really at eye level with the thing you were really getting a feel for it. Yunho was indeed really big, the thick outline of his length progressed way down his pant's leg making it impossible to miss. 
You gently undid the button of his jeans and pulled on his zipper, the vibrations on his length making him frown, completely entranced by your hand moving on him.
You hooked your fingers onto the waistband of the pants and his underwear and very gently pulled the fabric down, Yunho’s open shirt still floating as his sides. Gradually you had a peep at the trimmed hair of his pubic bone and then you uncovered the base of his cock. He was incredibly girthy and it only got bigger as you continued to pull on his pants. It was only when you were mid thigh that the member sprung free infront of your face and you audibly gasped at the size. 
The girthy member sat heavily between Yunho’s thighs, the tip an angry shade of red and profusely leaking at the slit. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't have masked how eager he was for you. His cock has been leaking ever since you got in his car and he got to smell your flowery perfume without the parasitizing smell of smoke and alcohol from the club. But that he couldn’t possibly say out loud.
He held his breath when you wrapped both your hands around his base, his cock twitching at the minimal contact of your fingers interlaced around him. You were still measuring him, getting an idea. He was as long as your forearm and as thick as your fist. 
In other words, he was ridiculously big. If he had said one hour ago when you were back at the club that he was walking around with a literal third leg you would have laughed in his face and left him there. But now that you were seeing it with your very eyes, it was different.
Yunho grew nervous as you stayed there eyeing him down with this puzzled expression.
“So what do you say?” He asked, his toes wiggling on the carpeted floor nervously. 
You didn’t even say anything back, only aimed the tip at your lips and started to lick around the sensitive cock head. Yunho emitted the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as he let his head roll back, his large palm instantly finding your hair to intertwine his fingers with it.
You licked around the tip thoroughly, earning more airy sighs from the brunette before you pursed your lips and sent a big wad of spit on his length. Making him moan a little clearer as you dragged your warm spit down to his base with both hands. You spat again to make sure to lubricate him thoroughly, before taking him in your mouth.
As soon as your lips wrapped around the tip, you heard Yunho softly curse from above you. Your lips stretched around the girthy tip with difficulty and slid down as far as you could manage until he hit the back of your throat, and you weren’t even halfway through. 
But Yunho didn't mind, it was the first time somebody even got that far and he swore he could have cum just by the look you gave him when your eyes snapped back to him and he saw your pretty face stuffed full of his fat cock, hair slightly disheveled by his doing, eyes glazed over with unspilled tears and your beautiful lips stretched to an unbelievable extent. 
You felt him twitch on your tongue before you popped him out, taking a deep breath and going down again. His free hand dipped down to play with your breasts, he cupped them and flicked your hardened nipples a couple of times making you moan on his cock. 
“Fuck baby,” he breathed. “Your mouth feels so good,” he panted. The praise made you confident enough to push your head a little further down, his cock reaching down to a brand new depth inside your throat.
“Fuckkkk,” Yunho sighed his hand on your hair holding you there for a second, just long enough for him to feel your gag reflex triggering and your throat clamping down on his cock trying to reject the massive foreign object that was obstructing your air pipe. When he pulled out again long strings of thick saliva linked your red and swollen lips to the raging tip of his cock and you coughed a couple of times, choking, the air burning your sore throat.
“Need you on my tongue right now. Wanna taste you,” he whispered as he practically tore the shirt off his shoulders and slipped out of his pants. He carefully pushed you towards the bed so you would be laid on your back and very gently his big hands wrapped around your thighs to pull them apart to finally lay eyes on your center. 
Yunho licked his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening folds covered with your slick, the transparent liquid cascading from your entrance and running down your thighs, some even staining your bedding. He swiped a single finger on your slit, gathering some of your arousal.
“Fuck, baby you got this wet just by having my cock in your mouth,” Yunho smirked when he noticed you twitched at his words. So you liked a little dirty talk, that was good to know. He brought the digit covered with your essence to his mouth, moaning against his own fingers as your sweet and velvety nectar enveloped his tongue.
“Fuck, you taste so good.”
Yunho pulled on your hips so your ass would sit at the edge and he kneeled on the ground. He planted a couple soft kisses on your inner thighs and pubic bone, making you squirm, itching to be touched in the right places. Maybe next time he’ll make you beg for it but today he needed you as much as you needed him.
He gently wrapped his mouth around your clit, taking the swollen bud into his mouth and sucking on it gently. Your reaction was immediate, it has been quite a long time since you have felt the touch of somebody else and Yunho was good at what he was doing. 
He went down to dip his tongue inside of you, parting your folds with his tongue and tasting the deepest parts of you, you arched your back and let his name fall off your lips.
“Aaah, hmph… Yun-ho,” you struggled to say as you unconsciously started to roll your hips against his face, smearing your juices over his cheeks and chin.
The way you called out his name and fucked yourself back on his face, shamelessly using his mouth to chase after your high had him leaking on the floor, as his aching cock sat heavily between his thighs.
That’s when he chose to stick two long fingers inside your tight heat, making you moan louder and stop dead in your tracks. You don't know how he managed that but he somehow found the perfect angle right away, curling the two digits right into your sweet spot, so you stayed put, exactly where you were while he pumped his fingers in and out of you.
He alternated between fast strokes then slower ones when he rolled his fingertips inside you teasing your g spot, to then go back to the quicker pace. Taking you on this rollercoaster of pleasure where he made you go up and down but never to your peak. 
Yunho had no intent on making you cum, at least not right now, now he only wanted to prep you to take him inside you. He was stretching you out as much as possible to make sure he could fit his huge cock inside your tiny little pussy. 
You had figured out that much but that didn’t keep you from slowly growing frustrated and therefore hungry for more. Much more.
So he slipped a fourth finger in.
At this point your body was covered with a light sheen of sweat making you beautifully glisten as the dim night stand lamp shone on you. 
You gasped at how full you felt, arching your back, your hands fisting the sheets as you called his name again.
“You’re doing so good.” He pressed a soft kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “My good girl,” he cooed before he started to swirl his tongue around your clit, making your cunt clamp harder around his fingers.
You felt yourself throb at the possessive pronouns. You both knew you weren’t his. But for the both of you it was what felt good. You’ll have plenty of time to feel lonely again in the morning. Just for tonight you belonged to each other. 
Your hands flew between your thighs where your fingers untangled with the long strands of brown hair, tugging at it, your frustration getting the best of you. 
Yunho enjoyed the dull burn on his scalp as he kept on abusing your swollen bud, sucking, licking and flicking it. Until he felt you throb on his tongue. But before he could finish you he felt you pull on his hair hard enough for him to look up at you.
You were panting, your chest heaving up and down, disheveled from thrashing your head around and pushing it back into the mattress.
“Wanna cum on your cock,” you urged, panting, as plainly as that. After all of this teasing, you wanted to save your appetite for the main course. 
Yunho could have bursted and cum all over the carpet with just those words. But instead he got back up and grabbed the rubber from your night stand, tearing the wrapper away and rolling the condom down his huge cock.
When he came back between your thighs he laid his cock on your stomach, and that's when you fully understood what you got yourself into. The sheer weight of the thing was in itself impressive but that was nothing compared to the size of it. It reached all the way to your midriff, the massive thing laying menacingly on your bare, sweaty skin.
Yunho then took the thick base in his hand and rubbed his tip at your entrance, coating it with your slick.
“You ready?” he asked, cheeks taking a pink hue, flashing you the most adorable of coy smile as if he wasn’t tongue fucking you a second ago. You only nodded, bracing yourself. Scared but foremost eager to be filled up again.
“Try to breathe, okay?” he advised right before he started to push himself inside you. Instinctively you let out a whine at the way your walls stretched around him as he gradually, very gently pushed his huge cock inside. You caught your lip between your teeth as your brows met on your forehead. Yunho was very attentive and didn't blink once to make sure he could read your micro expressions, so he could adapt the pace. He knew when to let you take a breather and when to keep pushing in. So when you let out a small cry and your hips jerked upwards slightly, he stopped.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, soft voice laced with concern. 
“Well the obvious answer is yes.” You chuckled softly at his adorable worried expression. “But at the same time… It feels so good,” you said, half whispering, half moaning. And you felt his cock twitch inside you.
That was the very first time somebody has ever said that to him. He would lie if he said he didn't like that.
“Please keep going,” you said, whiny tone bordering on begging. 
“Fuck baby,” Yunho breathed out. “Say that again.” His voice was somewhat urgent.
“Please Yunho, fill me up, I wanna feel you all inside of me.”
Yunho cursed under his breath again. He didn't need more to push the last couple of centimeters inside you. And just like that you’re full of him. He flipped both of your legs on his sturdy shoulders and leaned forward to kiss you. The softness is masked by the state of extreme urgency in which you both find yourselves in, the kiss is messy, sloppy, heated. Your teeth grazing against each other before you stuck your tongue out to let Yunho suck on it, you taste yourself on his tongue making you light headed before you bit on Yunho’s bottom lip to let it snap back against his teeth.
“Please fuck me,” you whispered against his teeth.
“Anything for you, baby.” 
He started to pull out gently and pushed in again, with each thrust he went faster, his large frame still laid over you as he fucked you in the mating press. The position was just perfect, with both his feet firmly on the ground, Yunho had great control over his movements and could easily adjust the pace as a plus the angle was absolutely divine.
You whined and whimpered and cried with each stroke, his big cock perfectly brushing and poking at your soft spot, deep, deep inside you. A spot nobody had ever been able to reach, not even yourself. The new found source of pleasure made you cry out in bliss, your cunt taking a vice grip around Yunho’s huge cock.
“Fuck,” you yelped. “You’re so…aaah… big,” you moaned. “Feel so good inside me. Please keep going. Fuck me please,” your words were slurred, you barely made any sense but it didn’t matter. Yunho knew exactly what you meant.
“You’re so good, baby. So good to me.”
He moaned against your mouth, prying your jaw open with his thumb and letting his tongue slip into your mouth, his warm spit running down your tongue. You swallowed his saliva, along with each of his pants and grunts. The way you felt around him was surreal, your wet sopping cunt coating him with your slick making it so easy to slip in and out of you, so much so that at some point he found himself absolutely drilling into your cunt completely losing himself inside you. The lewd wet noises bouncing off the small dark room as he rearranged your guts.
“I won't last for long,” he whined, eyes closing shut as he tried his best not to burst.
“I’m almost there,” you said, your legs tensing up and wrapping around Yunho’s hips.
He stood back up straight and put one hand on your waist firmly gripping your side to pull you back on his cock every time he thrusted in. Admiring the outline of his cock poking inside of your stomach creating a visible bulge with every snap of his hips. He laid his large hand over your stomach, lightly pressing, making you yelp and feeling every come and go as his thumb found your swollen and throbbing clit.
The sudden pleasure made you cry out a sob. Yunho started to play with your clit as he was deep inside your guts. Drawing tight circles on it, teasing it so perfectly that you grew even tighter around him.
“Please be my good girl and cum for me,” he said in a strangled moan, knowing he could only last for a few more seconds. Snapping his hips into yours, making your tits jump with each powerful thrust. “God please, please cum,” he begged in a desperate little whimper, as he wanted nothing than to make you cum but he also knew he could only keep up for a few more agonizingly long (at least to him) seconds.
That's when you crossed the edge, your walls fluttered around his big cock as you reached your peak, white heat radiating from your core to each of your limbs, making your body shake uncontrollably and your cunt grip into Yunho’s length like its life depended on it. You were completely delirious with pleasure, the earth shattering orgasm washing over you and convincing you the monstrous cock plowing into you had definitively ruined you for anyone else. You didn’t see how you could ever be satisfied again with any other cock.
The twitch of your cunt is Yunho’s queue to finally let go as well. He pulled out of you and ripped the condom away. He only had to give it a couple of strokes before cumming all over you. Thick white ropes of burning hot cum spurting out of his slit and crashing on your heated skin. Yunho had never cum so hard, his cock is like an open tap. Squirting cum all over your stomach, your tits and some powerful spurts even reaching your pretty face, which you hurriedly lick off your lips and chin. Making Yunho’s huge cock twitch in his balled fist.
He nearly collapsed when he’s done, his legs suddenly turning into jelly. But he still managed to haphazardly wander into the bathroom to give you a clean washcloth he found and even goes back to the kitchen to get you a glass of water.
After that he blacked out next to you, completely drained (in more ways than one). You chuckled next to him when you heard him snort softly as you set your still half full drink on the nightstand and switch off the light. Naturally finding your place snuggled up against him.
***
The incessant vibrations of his phone abandoned in the pocket of his jeans was what woke up Yunho the next morning. He got off the bed half asleep and picked the device to answer the call. Because he was still in a daze he didn’t check the caller but he definitely should have when he heard Wooyoung yell at the end of the line.
“SO DID YOU GO BACK TO HER PLACE??? DID SHE SURVIVE THE DRILL?????” he shot out question after question, not taking the time to breathe between each one. Yunho shushed him right away, looking back over his shoulder at your sleeping figure.
“Shut up! she’s sleeping!” Yunho said as he struggled to turn down the volume on his phone.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” the speaker resonated even louder. “Come by to my place we’re going to brunch, you’ll tell me all about it and then I promise I’ll play all the League you want for the rest of eternity!” Wooyoung pledged as Yunho chuckled. That's exactly why he loved him.
“Brunch and then League?” Yunho heard your groggy voice from behind. “That sounds fun…” 
“I’ll call you back,” Yunho briefly said before hanging on a screaming Wooyoung. He beamed at you. 
“Wanna come with?”
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a/n: oooffff omg that was something. i had so much fun writing this and omg i loved yunho in this he was so cute but hot ughhhhh. tell me if you liked it. that would make me so happy and i will def kiss u if do <3333
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getodrools · 1 month
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“Dude! I fucking said–– Holy shit. Gojo.” Suguru was at a loss for words, “I didn't say to actually fuck her?!—” His mouth ran barren, especially the way an HD video of you glared on Satoru’s phone.
Watching how those perfect tits he'd suck on were bouncing at each hard thrust pushing right up into you, but by his best friend's barreling cock...
Satoru leans back, shrugging his shoulders, “Hey, now y’know if she'd cheat or not, so what's the fuss?” And Gojo tried ignoring the way Suguru’s long hair began to stick to his sweating face whilst he paced back and forth as he said that.
Getō pants, “I said flirt! I said to fucking flirt with her not fuck?!” He, himself also tried to ignore the way your moans still blasted through the small speaker. Each one riling up to your high; a glistening geyser rockets out and the pressure of your pussy clamps down so hard Gojo’s dick pops right out with his own liquidity, hot mess.
Yes, Gojo did flirt with you in the beginning, just how Getō planned... and all of Satoru’s corny jokes you laughed at pissed your boyfriend beyond, but now?! This was a lot different.
The supposed secret three-hour-long video clearly stated otherwise. Watching only twenty minutes of all your tehe’s leading to you being bent like a damn pretzel had Suguru spiral… The way that hard body he laid with last night was now hell-bent on a fat cock it made him pinch at himself. Dumbfound how you were practically drooling with those moans he thought he'd only hear, and that shine from the camera's flash was catching it all.
“Well… at least you dodged a bullet..? Heh… heh…” Suguru snaps a wry glare at those sky-blue eyes and snowy hair with soft skin to match man that you so fell for — and the trap.
That said trap was as sticky as honey — A sweet honey trap that Suguru set up… only out of his weak and pitiful ego, which had only shrunk more when you two started dating. Getō couldn't believe he won the lottery dating the golden girl, and doubted himself throughout. And out of insecurity, he — stupidly set you up with Gojo to see if this dream was true with you, to see if your loyalty would still lie even with the presence of a god-like man who all praises…
He sure as hell got his answer — beyond that — now over that beautiful horizon he so coveted in with, you were there in his heart! But now… with his best friend right below, literally.
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myfictionaldreams · 8 months
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So I saw that you said you can take specific marauder requests. How about reader is insecure but the guys don't know it and she goes out to buy clothes and new lingerie that she thinks they might like because in her head she thinks if she doesn't look like the girls she researched they will leave her for either just eachother or all the other girls in the school. So when they are getting into it sirius realizes that she has a new bra (you can make up the rest of the scenario but preferably after he finds out she has a new bra angst happens and then fluffy smut and then the very end in fluff please)
What are you wearing? // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader
Summary: The latest lingerie trend did not look comfortable in any way but you still fell for the marketing and purchased your own, assuming that the boys would want you to dress like everyone else. However, when you decided to show off your outfit to Sirius, his reaction is anything but positive as he sees how uncomfortable you are.
Requested by: Thank you for answering my beck and call for a specific Marauders idea, I hope you enjoy your request!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, fluff (lots), foursome, self-doubt/low self-esteem, anxiety, crying/breakdown, pet names, making out, Remus has words of wisdom, discussing emotions, romantic gestures (a little cheesy), nipple play, body worship, dirty talk, teasing, begging, oral sex, fingering, possessive behaviour, restraints, praise kink, daddy kink, size kink (!), creampie, rough sex
Words: 8k
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It was the latest fashion, created by muggles to wear luxurious, expensive lingerie bodysuits that uncomfortably hugged curves and pushed your breasts into busty mounds that they unnaturally did not sit at. However from the whispers from other students as they secretly hide in corners, sharing magazines and boasting about which woman looked best in the underwear, it was what was the latest fashion and everyone seemed to be loving it. So despite the discomfort, despite the desire to itch your skin against the lace around your hips, you kept the lingerie under your uniform, hoping to surprise one of the boys throughout the day.
It wasn’t that you never wore nice underwear, usually, it was a simple lace bra that softly cupped your breasts, the material transparent enough that your areolas were visible and had your boyfriends dropping to their knees to beg at touching and worshipping your body.
But like previously mentioned, this new style of lingerie was apparently very in right now and you wanted to keep up with the latest trends, even more so to please Remus, James and Sirius. It was hard enough pleasing one boyfriend but three? It felt like endless pressure to keep up, even though you knew that feeling was only from the little devil on your shoulder, the one that spouted negative thoughts that you were never enough.
It was nothing on behalf of your boyfriend’s to make you feel this way. In fact, they always went above and beyond to show you how much you were truly loved. But then that voice in the back of your mind would come back, reminding you that they were the most popular men in school, had endless other students lusting over them and it felt like you were competing, even though you already had the prize.
So this was why you had decided to splash the cash on the expensive muggle lingerie and hide it beneath your uniform, hoping to keep the relationship exciting and alive with the hopes that one of your boyfriends would pull you into a spare cupboard and find the present beneath your button up shirt.
This came in the shape of Sirius Black who promptly entwined your fingers together after class, carrying both your bag and his on his shoulder and tugging you down a deserted corridor and into a dusty, dimly light classroom. Sirius may have come across to others as coming from a pure-blooded family and always pristinely dressed, but beneath all of that was his rebellious side. The part of him that wanted it dirty and rough and everything that didn’t match his exterior.
He dropped the bags onto the floor, causing a cloud of dust to waft into the air but that didn’t stop his movements as he pulled you further into the room, not even bothering to lock the door, another one of his little ‘Sirius’ things, loving the thought of being caught. As usual, your adrenaline was pumping through your veins, feeling giddy and ready to do whatever Sirius wanted, just needing to be close to him, to feel his hands on your body, his lips against your skin.
“Come here Darling, up on top”, Sirius patted the sizeable oak desk that was in the centre of the room, even bothering to wipe his hand across to create an area that was without dust, the perfect area for you to come and sit on.
Jumping up with the help of Sirius’ big hands on your waist, you sat on the edge of the desk, your skirt hiking up slightly so that the brisk wood nipped against the backs of your thighs. This didn’t stop you from spreading them, making room for your boyfriend as he slide his hands to cup your cheek.
Sirius’ citrus scent from his hair caressed your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips, urgent and devouring, leaving you breathless and grasping to hold onto his shirt. He had full control with his grip on your face, tilting your head so that he could deepen the kiss, tongue slipping into your open mouth, dancing to taste your spit.
A moan bubbled in the back of your throat as he moved his body closer, his crotch pushing against yours as your legs hooked around the back of his knees. You were thoroughly and utterly consumed by him, breathing in the air from his mouth, the taste and smell of him, his warmth seeping into your skin. There was one thing you would never deny and that was how consumed you were by him, by each of your boyfriends, you had been since day one.
Sirius released his hold on your face with one hand but only because he needed to touch your skin, squeezing the soft area of your thigh and stroking up, further pushing your skirt to reveal the entire length of your leg. He didn’t stop though, exploring with a firm touch over your skirt and beneath the hem of your shirt, with the intent to pull your hips closer to rub his tented crotch harder against yours.
But then he suddenly froze, lips unmoving and a confused frown evidently etched into his handsome features as he pulled away to look down at where his fingers were feeling a strange material under your clothes.
You’d forgotten about your plan, through the lust-filled kisses and touches, it had slipped your mind what you were wearing.
Before Sirius could verbally ask what it was that he was feeling, you quickly beat him to it by breathlessly explaining, “I had a surprise”. With the adrenaline still pumping through your body, your fingers were shaking delicately as you removed your tie and unbuttoned your shirt, pushing the white material off of your shoulders, revealing the majority of the lingerie bodysuit.
Looking up at him through your eyelashes, attempting to look seductive whilst further pushing your elbows underneath your already pushed-up breasts.
You weren’t sure exactly what reaction you were expecting, maybe a horny curse or a hunger search of your body with his eyes, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to ask in a disdained tone, “What are you wearing?”
Sirius lifted the hand that had been resting on your hip, up to the tight material on your chest, trying to slip his finger between your breast and the lingerie but unable to do so with how tight and uncomfortable the bodysuit was.
“I thought you’d like it”, you say earnestly, trying to keep the simmering panic at bay that was beginning to pound into your heart. Sirius’ confusion only increased as the line between his furrowed brows deepened, a single step back to put some distance between the two of you, your legs dropping to dangle over the edge of the desk again as he looked over what you were wearing.
“Why would you wear something like that? Are you even comfortable in it?” he asks with a hint of distaste, something you hadn’t anticipated for him to sound like at all. 
You begin to stutter over your words, losing the confident seduction you’d been attempting to play off. “It’s…it’s not supposed rt to be comfortable, I wanted to look nice for you”.
This response only seemed to further upset Sirius as his eyes refused to meet yours, remaining only on the extravagant lingerie. “But you always look nice, you didn’t have to do this!” The rise of his voice startled you enough to quickly shrug the shirt back up your arms, crossing the material across your chest so that you were covered once more. Sirius finally snapped out of his upset to look into your eyes, the frown relaxing a touch so that he could slowly explain, “Sweetheart, you know you don’t have to dress a certain way to impress me, you know that”.
Embarrassment pooled in your stomach causing you to feel burning hot and slightly nauseous. Of all the reactions you expected, it wasn’t this. Yes, you may be dressing completely out of your comfort zone and only doing it to make the boys happy but you had to make an effort and this was the only way you thought how.
You tried to keep your voice from wavering as you explained, “Yes, but I just wanted to make a little bit of an effort. Anyway, everyone else has been wearing this sort of thing or enjoying the look of it. And I just thought you wouldn’t-”, your mouth slammed shut with an audible snap as you tried to keep the truth spilling from your lips.
Tears were beginning to line the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you hastily began to fasten the buttons on your shirt, eyes on your fingers and not daring to look up at your boyfriend.
You’d hoped that Sirius would let it go, the words and the bodysuit, maybe you could jump off the desk, find somewhere to remove the lingerie and it never be spoken about again. However, this of course was wishful thinking on your part as Sirius’ voice had dropped an octave as he asked, “I wouldn’t…what? Finish what you were about to say.”
Blatantly ignoring his questioning, you had finished buttoning your top, turning to look for the tie that you’d haphazardly discarded behind you on the desk but in the low lighting, it was hard to see, especially as the tears began to slip down your cheeks.
Sirius closed the gap between your bodies again, his hand gently cupping your jaw to tilt it in his direction, his eyes glazed in worry as he noticed your tears, quickly swiping them away with his thumb. “Tell me”, he encouraged but you could still hear the strain at the back of his throat.
It was like a dam opened within you, that small hope on the restraint that you had snapped. “That you wouldn’t be interested in me anymore if I didn’t try and keep up with the trends of what's hot. Or that if I didn’t try, you’d all think you’re missing out on something so yes, this bodysuit is a little uncomfortable but I just wanted to impress you all so you didn’t think I wasn’t attractive or that you’d fall out of love with me because someone else looked more sexy or was willing to dress in all of these stupid outfits! I just wanted to make you all happy ”.
There it was, the devil on your shoulder, speaking your inner-most demons, laid completely bare in front of you. Fear after fear spilt from your lips, once you’d started you couldn’t stop, even though you were becoming hysteric, the escalation of the situation was just making you freak out more. You were full-on sobbing by this point, tears dampening the collar of your shirt and shoulders hunched as you sucked in deep shattering breaths.
The walls felt too close, the air too thick. You needed to get out, need to get away from Sirius, not wanting to even look at him to see the disappointment you were sure covered his face. Using your body for momentum, you pushed him back as you jumped off of the desk and stepped towards the door.
However a gentle but firm hand wrapped around your shoulder, halting your movements as Sirius’s concerned voice begged, “Please don’t go, we need to talk about this Darling”.
This wasn’t what you wanted right now, you didn’t want to talk, scared that your spiralling thoughts might be a reality, your consciousness being your worst enemy at that moment as you shrugged out of his grasp. “I just need a minute”. You sounded broken and another sob shook your shoulders as you didn’t look back. Not bothering to pick up your bag or find your lost tie you rushed out of the door, and the sick feeling in your stomach only increased when you heard Sirius yell and kick his frustrations out against a table as he let you walk away.
You weren’t entirely sure where you were going, keeping your head low so as to not have questioning looks as to why you were crying and scared you’d run into one of your friends or worse Remus or James. There were so many students in the corridors and you desperately needed an escape and ran in the direction of where there were only a limited amount of people as fresh air crisped against your wet cheeks as you rushed outside.
For a moment you contemplated sneaking to the shrieking shack, knowing that you could curl into a ball underneath the sheets of the master bed there but that would also be the first place that the boys checked other than the Gryffindor common room. Furthermore, you needed somewhere outside, need to feel the sun on your face and a sense of calm so you half jogged to one of your favourite spots in Hogwarts.
It was the one place you truly felt at peace and somewhere you’d stumbled upon once when exploring the Hogwarts grounds in your first year. A luscious green cliff edge that overlooked the lake and Scottish mountains and, what made it so special was that when the sun began to set, it was the perfect spot for the golden hour of beautiful sunshine. The very last piece of land that the sun-kissed before it disappeared over the mountains.
This was where you crumpled onto the grass, tucking your knees in close, hiding your face within them and wrapping your arms around tightly so you were now in a little ball. There you sat and you cried. For the embarrassment, anxiety-ridden and uncertainty as to what happened now. You didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts, maybe it was better if you just stayed in that little spot forever you contemplated dramatically.
You were unsure how much time had passed but the air was beginning to chill as the sun dropped further in the sky. There were no more tears, but your breaths were still ragged, your eyes sore as you looked across the lake, and your body trembling through exhaustion and still, above all of that, you couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable the stupid bodysuit was under your uniform.
Footsteps suddenly crunched against the crisp grass and you tried not to stiffen at the unknown arrival. But with each step, you knew from the slight limp who exactly it was as Remus sat beside you, his legs crossed underneath him as you automatically moved your face to look away from him, not wanting him to see the mess you’d become.
“Don’t”, he insisted. “Don’t do that, don’t hide away from me, my love. Come here”, he encouraged, his heavy hand resting against your shoulder and tugging your body towards his. You succumb easily, releasing the grip around your knees so that you could lie your head against his lap, his hand remaining on your shoulder giving you warmth and comfort as his other hand stroked through your hair and he simply lets you cry.
Remus began to talk, lowly and calmly into your ear as he helped you through your overwhelming emotions. “It’s more than just the fancy underwear, isn’t it? Listen to me Love, we all have our insecurities that bubble away underneath our skin but we can’t let those negative thoughts win. We deserve happiness. YOU deserve happiness.”
Your sobs calmed down enough that you were just lightly hiccuping, not even bothering to wipe away your tears as his trousers absorbed the wetness. Remus lowered his head, to gently kiss the side of yours before he continued. “I know sometimes our minds are louder than our hearts so even if I tell you, how much I truly adore you, that sometimes you won’t comprehend how much it is true. But please, Sweetheart, understand that… you’re my family. You, Sirius and James. Without you three, I have no one and I don’t want you to think you’re anything else but my entire world. You could dress in the old linen from a house elf and I would still love everything about you. I don’t need you to be dressed in the latest fashion or clothes that are evidently uncomfortable. I want you to be happy, we ALL want you to be happy”.
Your heart was pounding for another reason now as you couldn’t bare to not be touching Remus, needing more than anything to show him how much you appreciated him, loved him with just as much passion as the words that he spoke. So without another word, you rushed to sit up and climb into his lap, straddling your thighs over his, shaking fingers cupping his scarred face to hold him still as you kissed him deeply.
It wasn’t like the same sort of passionate, devouring kiss with Sirius earlier in the day in that forgotten classroom. This was passionate in a way that the world began and ended with each other, that you need to show your love and appreciation with your lips where words would surely fail you. Remus was always the one to have the best advice, to be able to talk the others around when in a low mood, he just always seemed to know the exact right thing to say.
As both of your lungs burned for air, you pull from the kiss but only to lean your forehead against his, warm breath fanning across his face as he wiped away the stains of the tears, “I love you, Remus Lupin”.
“I love you too”.
The sun had now cascaded behind the mountains, leaving an orange hue in the sky as everywhere else began to fall into shadow. The air instantly cooled but you didn’t care, especially not with Remus who ran at a fevered temperature due to his lycanthropy. The two of you stayed like that until you felt comfortable enough to risk glancing over his shoulder, towards the lining of trees from the forbidden forest.
“They aren’t here”, Remus informed you, kissing your cheek gently and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you closer.
You weren’t sure if you should be relieved or not at hearing that Sirius and James didn’t accompany Remus. “Where are they?”, you asked quietly, leaning your head against his shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted after your breakdown.
Remus took more than a moment to answer like he was trying to decide how much he should tell you before finally deciding. “They’re both back in the dormitory, sorting out a little surprise for you”.
Your heart seemed to skip a beat, that they were doing something nice even after the way you’d spoken and reacted to Sirius. “I feel bad I stormed away from Sirius”, you admitted to Remus, pulling away from his shoulder to play with the end of his tie.
Remus offered you a shrug, “He’ll get over it. I think he was more upset that he didn’t know how to process that you weren’t comfortable and doing all of this for his benefit. And that he struggled to find the right words to say without sounding pissed off and couldn’t fix the situation before you left”.
You nod, risking a glance up towards Remus’ face and relieved to find him looking at you still in a relaxed way and you knew he really wasn’t annoyed like you thought he would be. “And James, is he ok?”
Remus nods, kissing the tip of your nose and pulling a smile from your lips, “He’s hurt like Sirius and I, that you’d been feeling this way without speaking to us, he wanted to fly down here as soon as Sirius found us but I knew you needed some time to yourself”.
“Thank you”. You hoped that he understood that you were saying that for more than one reason, for everything and by the twinkle returning to his eyes, the life that was sparking once more as he pecked your lips gently, you knew he understood.
“Come on, let’s not leave them any longer”.
Remus helped you to stand and the two of you took a leisurely stroll, hand in hand, back up to the castle, you’d missed dinner but Remus insisted that he’d go and get you something to eat after your surprise.
The surprise was entirely romantic and your chest warmed with love as you looked at the dormitory that you shared with the boys. There were different-shaped candles floating around the room, Remus’ record player in the corner at a low volume with the latest Bowie track that the boys loved and rose petals were scattered across the floor and freshly made bed but the petals had been enchanted to change colour and shimmer in the candlelight.
A sweet, thankful gasp was just about to spill from your lips but it was quickly replaced with a shocked laugh, your hand covering your mouth to hide your grin as Sirius and James stepped out of the bathroom. They were completely nude, except for the black lacy tight underwear that hardly covered their genitals, and nicely tied off with a pretty pink bow over where their cocks were.
The two of them stood proudly, abs tense to show off and flex as much as possible, a wide stance and arms behind their backs as they both grinned cheekily at you. “What…? What are you both wearing?!” you couldn’t help but giggle as you stepped closer and out of Remus’ reach, only for him to start taking off his clothes too.
You turned to watch, eyes wide as he too was wearing the skimpy underwear that seemed to hardly be covering him at all with his cock at half-mast. “Wait, have you had them on this entire time?” you asked dumbfoundedly, trying not to stare at the ridiculousness of the tiny little outfits.
“Oh I have indeed, can’t tell you how far they’ve been wedged up my arse but beauty is pain right?” he joked, subtly trying to pull the material from between his cheeks to relieve the tightness there.
You watched as Remus brushed past to stand next to Sirius who now stood in the middle of him and James, his grin softening to a knowing smile as you also moved closer to them. Once you were close enough did he tip your chin back, “Do you only love us more because of these outfits? Or would you say you loved us regardless of what we are wearing”.
The penny dropped as you now realised why they were wearing the uncomfortable-looking, ridiculously scandalous underwear. Your shoulders dropped in defeat, giving him a knowing look as you shook your head no. “Exactly. This is how we feel for you, I don’t want you to shut us out again or doubt our feelings for you. If you ever have a thought like this again, I need you to come to us, and talk because that's healthy and normal in relationships. Don’t bottle it up and don’t shut us out and please, don’t walk away from me again, I couldn’t bare it”.
You reached up to take his hand, moving it from your chin to nuzzle your cheek into it, kissing his palm as you promised, “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry I did all of those things and made you all worry. I love you, everything about you, without the outfits”, you emphasise with a smile. “They don’t look comfortable at all”, you say with a giggle, noticing James trying to give his cock more room in the confinement of the lingerie.
“Think I’ve got as much room as your tits which reminds me, we need to release them from their prison!”, Sirius joked, his fingers reaching to begin unbuttoning your shirt and then pushing it over your shoulders.
Remus stepped up behind you, his naked back flush against yours, “oh Pup, this doesn’t look comfortable at all”, he chastised in a low voice, beginning to unzip you from behind. The relief was immediate as Sirius helped him by pushing the loosened straps from your shoulders and you audibly sighed as the warm air kissed your now exposed breasts.
“There are my girls”, Sirius mumbled, his thumb brushing against the nipple of your right breast causing it to pebble before his mouth dropped to lick and suck on the sensitive bud. Before you could properly lean into the touch, James’ tuft of hair was soon at the same level as Sirius's as he did the same to your left nipple, suckling it into his mouth before flattening his tongue against it. Your back arched, hands delving into both men’s soft hair, gripping and holding them close as arousal struck through your core.
The remainder of your clothes soon pooled around your feet on the floor, Remus even helping to unbuckle your shoes until you were left in nothing but your white frilly socks as Remus had effortlessly removed the rest of the lingerie and skirt.
The moments like this, when they were so doting and loving that you almost felt overwhelmed because you wanted to return that love and affection to all of them at the same time but with only two hands, it was challenging to do. So you decided to concentrate on the two boys attached to your front, who were nipping and teasing your tender nipples, sucking them into peaks before laying them flat with the push of their tongues.
The grip you held on their hair reluctantly relaxed and tried to do a different exploration, over their shoulders, feeling this leanness of James and the muscles of Sirius from where he trained as Beater for the quidditch team. Lower still your nimble fingers travelled to their chests, feeling the sprinkling of hair that curled over their pecks and then still further down with the goal to reach the hem of their underwear. However, in the position, you could only react to James who seemed to realise your goal and pushed his body more towards yours.
Your fingertips ran along the hem of the tight underwear and then halted as James shuddered under the touch as you stroked over his tip that had bulged out as he became increasingly harder with nowhere else to go. As you teased his tip, James began to kiss up your body, particularly over the indents over your chest from where the bodysuit had pushed your breasts up, and he didn’t stop until he was next to your ear, still needing to bend down because of the height difference.
James did not move with urgency, even though his hips were bucking under the tease of your fingers. With one cupping your jaw, tilting your face away and the other hand gripping onto your waist, James began to kiss along the column of your neck, over the sensitive little spots that had your knees weak and more heat pooling in between your legs.
Remus on the other hand now stood next to you, his fingers stroking down your jaw to grasp your attention which you gave him, looking up at him with wide eyes and bottom lip stuck between your teeth. “I want you to listen to me carefully ok? There will be no rushing tonight, our goal is to please YOU, and only you. I want to hear every little moan and cry that you have so there’s no need to bite your lip, my love. I want this pretty mouth open and begging for more, do you understand?”
You couldn’t think of words that made any sense like a thick warm blanket of fuzzy arousal clouded your thoughts so all you could respond to Remus was a desperate nod of the head and a throaty moan.
“Good. Now tell me, just before we start.  Who do you belong to?”
James and Sirius stopped the teasing with their mouths so that they could hear you answer, needing to hear it, for their own sanity and possessive natures.
“You, I belong to all of you”, you breathlessly answered, still looking up into Remus’ green eyes that always reminded you of spring, hypnotised completely by him.
“That’s right”, he praised delicately still stroking down the side of your face. “And, who do we  belong to?”
“Me”, your answer was quieter, heart pounding at having to say it out loud as you knew that he was only getting you to say it to remind you that your freakout today was unwarranted and you should always know that they’re yours.
Remus tilted an eyebrow up, his hair falling slightly over his eyes as he didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. “Excuse me,  I didn’t quite hear that”.
You refrained from huffing in embarrassment as you repeated yourself at a louder volume, “You all belong to me, to each other”.
This was the answer he was looking for as his lips curled into a gentle smile and then opened as he was going to continue talking but James seemed to snap hearing those words as the hand on your jaw pushed your body backwards, the other on your waist supporting your body so that you didn’t trip over. The back of your knees met that bed and the two of you toppled onto the soft, rose-petaled surface.
“I couldn’t wait anymore, need to feel you, taste you, want to make you mine”, James groaned against the shell of your ear as he finally turned your face enough that his lips found yours in a hungry, lust-filled kiss.
Behind the two of you, you were able to hear Sirius and Remus chuckling deeply at James’ frantic motions and then they were moving closer and sitting on either side of the bed, taking a hand of yours each into theirs. A way to stay close to you but also restrain you in a way so that James was fully in control and the pleasure was solely on you.
The Gryffindor’s seeker’s tongue brushed against yours, tasting and dominating the dance happening in your mouth, his body sliding between your thighs so that you could feel the scratch of the uncomfortable underwear that he was still forcing himself to wear against the sensitive skin of your thighs. His hand's hand began to lower, the wide expanse of his hands meaning that he was able to feel a vast area of your body at once, over your collarbones, your breasts, squeezing softly, a contrasting touch from his commanding mouth.
Over your hips, your thighs, tucking them in closer around his waist. Finally, he pulled away from your mouth, his glasses slipping down his nose as hot breaths being shared as you both desperately tried to breathe but it was mostly so he could tell you his contemplative thoughts. “I don’t know whether to let you ride my fingers or taste you”.
Your pussy clenched around nothing at his words, not being able to decide an answer for him but thankfully Sirius pipped up and offered the idea, “Why not both?”
James grinned, pecking your lips before glancing towards Sirius, “Good idea, Padfoot”.
Then his warmth crowding around your chest was gone as he quickly backed away and lay on his stomach at the bottom of the bed, his face now between his legs and hands pushing back your thighs until once again, Sirius and Remus took one each so that you were fully restrained.
“Such a pretty pussy, MY pretty pussy”, James admired as he began to spread your juices that were seeping through your folds, over the rest of your cunt. With one hand, he spread back your labia so that you were bare before him, he could see the subtle throb of your clit and the clench of your pussy, gleaming in the low candlelight from your wetness.
James licked a long strip from your perineum, over your hole and up to your clit, audibly swallowing your juices and moaning, and then there was no holding him back. If he wasn’t sucking your clit then he was pushing his thick tongue into your hole, exploring the tensing area. And then he was adding two of his fingers, rocking in and out in time with the circling of his tongue around your clit.
You were very quickly descending into the pleasure and gave up on watching him as all you could do was lie back and moan, hands desperate to reach for him but still being held back by your two other boyfriends. So you lay there, mouth wide open and mewled and quivered, especially as he began to curl his fingers, teeth scraping over the bundle of nerves before carefully easing the touch with a warm lick of his tongue.
“Is Prongs making you feel good, Darling?” Sirius cooed down to you, squeezing your thigh to try and grasp your attention.
“Yes! So-...so good, please don’t stop”, you begged, eyes clothes and a withering mess as James increased his pace. That’s when you felt it, the tightening in your core that sent tingles over your pussy and thighs, that feeling that you craved every day to feel and one that the boys were always so good and making you experience. “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop, James please don’t stop”.
James didn’t plan on stopping as he watched your reactions from between your legs, expertly fingering and licking you, feeling your pussy clenching and tightening around his digits before you gasped, arched your back and fluttered and pulsed with your orgasm. You felt both heavy and light simultaneously as he didn’t slow down his motions until you collapsed back fully into the sheets again.
“You’re so beautiful like this, laid out beneath me. But, I think it’s time one of the other two has a go, what do you say Honey?” James asked still between your legs. Opening your glazed-over eyes, you looked down at him and nodded in response, but you were also sure that what he had to offer now you would have said yes too. 
Remus leaned down so that his lips danced along your cheek as he whispered against your skin, “Think it’s my time to have a taste of your sweet pussy?”
This time, the aroused fog in your brain cleared slightly as you shook your head no which in turn earnt a confused expression to Remus’ face. “Want you to fuck me”, you stated with conviction, needing to be full and stretched.
Remus chuckled as he squeezed your thigh and wrist that he still held, “Already? But we’ve only just started Sweetheart”.
You whine pathetically, trying to reach for him and momentarily forgetting that you were still very much restrained. “Please! Want to feel your cock inside of me, don’t want to wait”.
“Ok Love, can’t be having my girl going without what she wants now, can I? You haven’t been stretched much though so do you want to ride me so you have control for a second?” He didn’t sound boastful when he talked and you knew it was necessary for him to ask this, Remus had one of the biggest cock’s you’d ever seen. In fact, when you first saw it, you were sure it wouldn’t fit inside of you. However now after fucking constantly, it was a little easier but still not something to be rushed so you nodded your head in agreement with his idea.
Remus moved to lay against the pillows, easing the lingerie at long last down his legs and onto the floor and then his hands were out and supporting your weight as you were released from Sirius’ grip and able to crawl over to the other Marauder. Once more, his body was a lot warmer than the other two but that only aided in moments like this, the heat helping your pussy to stretch.  Straddling his hips, you could help but grind your bare pussy against his thick cock that was hard and lay heavy against his abdomen.
The two of you moaned deeply, his cock throbbing just as harshly as your clit as it brushed against his shaft. Remus rested his hands against your waist, but only to support you, he let you be in control for the moment as your hands rested against his chest, pushing off of it with your movements.
Leaning down quickly, you pecked his lips, sighing into the touch before leaning back up and gripping the base of his dick, standing it up and then rising onto your knees. Even just feeling his tip brushing your hole had enough stimulation that you were moaning. This only increased as you began to lower yourself, slowly and with Remus’ support by guiding your hips down tentatively, making sure that your gasps were done in pleasure and not discomfort.
It burned but in a way that had you begging for more, stretching to your very limit as inch after inch pushed into your cunt until you were about ¾ of the way down before his tip stroked your cervix. Leaning forward so you could take the weight off of your knees, you both just stayed in that position as your body adjusted to being sheathed.
Only as you began to slowly rock your hips did Remus dare to move his hands but only to cup your arse cheeks, massaging the areas and helping you a little to ride back and forth on his cock. “Feel so big Daddy”, you quietly moaned into his chest, not meaning to use the nickname so early into the night but sometimes a different side of you took over.
“Yeah? You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well my love, you’re so tight and pretty above me”, Remus praised and his hips began to buck up to meet yours, increasing the pace and roughness slightly and from the earth-shattering moan you released, there was no chance he was going to stop doing that again if it made you sound that good.
As you began to roll your hips in time with Remus, you had a thought as to where the other two were. Looking over your shoulder and see James and Sirius sat together, their hands clenched and resting on their thighs as they tried not to touch themselves and a pang of guilt settled in your stomach as they really were just trying to think about your pleasure. “Please! Please touch yourselves, take off those stupid underwear and touch yourself. No wait, come here, let me touch you.”
“This is supposed to be about you”, Sirius reminded you in a low gruff tone, like he was trying to restrain himself from snapping but was clearly struggling.
“Yes, and I want to touch you. If you won’t fuck my mouth then you’ll have to come over here so I can wank you off”.
Remus chuckled beneath you, “So demanding all of a sudden, is someone desperate for cock?”
You mewl, eyes closing and head tipping back as his cock fucked you with a hard slam of his hips, “Mmmm, yes! Always desperate for your cocks, because they’re mine aren’t they?” Your words were teasing and you made sure to timidly smile down at Remus as he grinned up at you.
“Yes, they are, all yours Sweetheart”. He fucked into you hard again, your body jolting from the momentum of the movement.
However his thrusts up slowed as Sirius and James stood on either side of the bed, the lacy underwear now discarded and cocks leaking and standing proud, bobbing in the air. Your mouth watered and you were half tempted to beg to taste them but decided to save your energy as you wrapped a hand around each of their cocks, squeezing and pumping slowly, in time with your rolling hips.
The two of them grunted, drips of precum building at the tip, leaking down and wetting the sensitive area. As you figured out a pattern with how fast to stroke them, squeezing in certain areas of their shafts and making sure to brush your thumb over the tip, Remus watched happily, his cock throbbing harder inside of you as you touched the other two. In each of the Marauder's minds, they were once again appreciating just how beautiful you were, taking Remus’ cock so well and pleasuring Sirius and James with your skilled hands, it was a sight to behold.
Sirius couldn’t hold back anymore as he roughly grabbed your jaw, tilting your face back and feverishly kissing you, tongue instantly swiping to gain entrance to your mouth, much like he had earlier in the day when you were sitting on the edge of the dusting desk.
The four of you moaned for different reasons, at the pleasure that was being shared and the love that was underlying in all the touches.
Remus began to fuck up into your body harder but still at a slower pace, his hand stroking over your abdomen, stroking the soft skin before his thumb dipped lower and stroked over your clit in demanding swipes.
Your thighs instantly clenched as well as your palms around the men's cocks. Sirius pulled back, needing to hear and see your pleasure as he stroked a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes, “You like the way Moony is fucking you? I want you to cum for him because, by the look on his handsome face, I don’t think he’s going to last much longer”.
Remus grunted, having been trying to hold back his own orgasm until you had found yours. It just felt so good when you fucked him first, pussy so tight, warm and all his that he didn’t care if he came quicker than other times the two of you fucked, he just wanted to fill you up, needing to see you dripping with his seed.
You were shaking above him at the sight of Remus trying not to unravel and the stroke of his thumb and cock were driving you ever closer to your own peak, thighs shaking with each grind of your hips.
Then you felt it, that tightening and blissful euphoria building in strength, like you were going to explode into a sea of stars as Remus’ name sang from your lips in pleading praise. “That’s it Love, cum for me, fuck you feel so good”, Remus shouted, his cheeks flushed pink and hair sticking to his forehead with the restraint of holding back his own orgasm.
Thankfully for him, after a particularly hard thrust and press of his thumb on your bundle of nerves, you were clenching your eyes closed, mouth gaping open and body locking up as you came around his cock. Only a couple of seconds later, Remus was arching his back slightly, hands squeezing the flesh around your hips tightly as he came, cock buried as deeply as it could go into your cunt as he needed you to have every single drop of his cum.
Your eyes momentarily opened to enjoy the sight but then a hand on the back of your head distracted you as your hair was harshly tugged back, causing your back to arch up, tits pushed out as Jjames batted away your hand from his cock. But, it was only so he could quickly toss his cock off, desperately whimpering as he knelt on the edge of the bed to get closer to you as he too came, all over your tits and down your sternum.
You watched with a satisfied grin at seeing James frantically finding his own orgasm and how flushed he now looked as the last drip of cum gathered at the tip of his cock. The grip in your hair loosened enough that you were able to lean forward and lick a single strip on his dick, capturing that last drip and swallowing it down with a genuine smile.
James looked like he was going to combust at the sight as he sucked in heavy breaths and looked like he was going to pounce on you to show you just how much he loved you but then the one man who hadn’t found his on orgasm quickly disrupted these thoughts. A strong arm wrapped around your waist and hiked you off of Remus's cock which pulled out of you, his cum dripping down as the tallest marauder slide off of the bed.
Sirius returned you to your knees and pushed your shoulders down so your cum covered chest was flat against the sheets and petals and your arse perked up into the air. “Need you so bad Darling, are you going to let me play with you?” Sirius asked, stroking a strong, wide hand down your spine.
“Please fuck me”, you begged, looking over your shoulder towards him. Sirius gave him a handsome grin, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached around you to grasp both of your arms and hold them behind your back.
“It would be my pleasure”, the long-haired man muttered, shifting his hips until his cock brushed against your cum covered hole and began to push in. You were so sensitive after taking Remus that you pulsed around Sirius, his cock stretching and filling you completely, he may not have been as big as Remus but he was still thick and hard. “Merlin! I love feeling Moony or Prong’s cum inside of you, feel it coating my cock and lubing your pretty pussy”.
You gasped at his words as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, hands tightly holding onto yours so that your weight rested awkwardly on your neck but you didn’t care, needing and wanting everything he was willing to give you.
Unlike Remus, Sirius didn’t hold back with his thrusts, moving with speed and intensity that had you almost seeing stars with how deep he was fucking you in this angle. Your hands desperately clung to his, feeling the coolness of his rings and using that to ground you to the moment as you were beginning to feel a little fuzzy and floaty from the day's events.
“Taking me so well, you’ve done so well for all of us”, Sirius praised, followed by a deep throaty moan as you squeezed his cock tighter at his words. This only encouraged him to fuck you faster until it was a blur as to where your bodies met.
Your toes were curled as the constant smack of his cock against all of your blissful nerves had you wanting to melt right into the bed. It wasn’t long before you were feeling that relief on the horizon and from the way your pussy was clenching, Sirius could feel it too.
Releasing his hold on your wrists, he quickly pulled your upper body up, until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your front to support your weight from toppling forward.
“Say it again, say you’re ours, I need to hear you say it”, Sirius asked, his sharp teeth teasing the shell of your ear, even in the new position it didn’t stop his deep, fast thrusts.
You were sure you were screaming your answer as your orgasm throbbed through your entire body as you did as requested, “I’m yours, I’m all of yours, Sirius- ah! Fuck please-”, you were rambling now, saying any words that you could think of as you were overcome with pleasure.
The sensation was so intense that you hadn’t noticed that Sirius had also cum with you until you were able to catch your breath and realise you were both collapsed face first onto the bed. Sirius’ cock was still inside of you, slowly softening and allowing his and Remus’ cum to continue seeping out and onto the sheets.
His lips ghosted over your shoulder as he moved your hair away from your ear, “And what did we learn today?”, he asked still sounding breathless but also teasing.
“Clothes don’t define love”, you mumble, feeling exhausted and hungry, looking forward to the feast that Remus was bound to bring you all after the cleanup and aftercare.
“Exactly. And what else?”
“That I belong to you all, just as you all belong to me”.
“That’s right Darling, and please, never forget it”.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 months
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What about Graves with a breeding kink or if reader is pregnant? I know you don't rlly write for him a lot, but I love when you do.
Idk if you'll feel like answering this, but ily and ur fics regardless 🫶
Graves w/ a Breeding Kink
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Warnings: 18+, Smut, Breeding Kink, Possessive Graves, Housewifery, Pet Names,Profanity,  Fem! Reader.
He lusts for the American dream; the very foundations upon which he continues his existence. To have – to create – a family. And he can think of nobody better to achieve that dream with than you.
He’s on top of you, arms either side of your head, gasping, panting, bent over you and exerting every inch of himself as if you were crafted of some divine substance with tools far beyond human comprehension.
He’s been at it for hours now. You see it in the way his hair sticks together, slicked with sweat as it drips down his face, hear it in the thick, wet sound of his cock slipping back into you with every thrust of his hips, feel it in the growing ache in your abdomen as he fills you again, letting out a strangled, short-breathed moan as your body squeezes around him. He doesn’t let up, though.
He pushes through, gripping you by your hips and pulling you closer onto him. You gasp, back arching as he hits a spot deeper within you. An area he’d been abusing all night, 
“B’such a good little mommy for me,” he whispers into your hair, just above your ear. He presses a lopsided kiss there, lip wet from the many times he’s drawn it into his mouth with his teeth.
“Y’want that, Sweetness?” he pants, looking into your eyes with his half-lidded pair. “Want me to–” – he grunts – “want me t’make you mine from the inside out?”
You can’t get the words out fast enough; garbled and twisted, they come out tangled and in knots, as if tripping over each other to reach a unified ‘yes’. With the little energy you have left, you nod with all the enthusiasm your half-gone mind can conjure. Graves smiles, giving a brief, airy laugh. “Knew I’d made the right choice pickin’ you. Knew you’d make a good housewife for me someday,”
You clench. Graves gasps. He brings warm lips to yours as if to press his love there, as if you are to now impart upon him that which he has longed for for years unnumbered; a family.
He angles deeper, presses his throbbing, pulsating instrument into the most inconspicuous part of you that has you arching your back and letting out an almost-scream. Your knees press into the sides of Graves’ waist, tightening around him just as your cunt did. He yells, uses every ounce of his strength to not collapse on top of you, the tip of his nose against yours. Something in him tightens, snaps, and he floods you for the umpteenth time, pressing himself deeper, making sure his seed takes.
Not that you can see for your eyes being screwed shut, but Graves gazes upon you as you bask in the afterglow of his labour, feeling a smile creeping up onto his cheeks as he takes in your every feature. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s seen them, in one form or another, he never stops being fascinated – enamoured – by them. By you.
When you come down, come to, you give Phillip a smile he knows all too well – one that preludes your telling him you’re ready for bed. He all but pounces on you as you turn onto your side, taking you by the wrists and pressing them into the pillow beneath you. A dark glimmer passes through his eye, and he gives you a hazy, slithering smirk, followed by his southern drawl.
“Oh no, Princess,” he says, taking your chin between his fingers.
“We’re not done ‘til I say we’re done.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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Instinct (S.R.)
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Summary: Spencer explains the biology of sex to Reader during the act. Request: Spencer Reid explaining what happens to your body during an orgasm while giving you one 🥵 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Fingering, biological processes, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, mild degradation/dumbification Word Count: 1k
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When you find yourself in Spencer’s bed, there is no time to wonder what led you there. You have no interest in debating it, either. Your attention is diverted, devoted to more pressing things—things like the feel of his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck.
You’d never even allowed yourself to wonder what instinct drove you straight into his arms… not until his mouth shifts to your ear.
“Do you want to know why you’re really here?” he asks.
You nod before you’ve even considered the question.
This was the correct answer, and he rewards you by sneaking a hand between your thighs.
“You’re here because I want you to be,” he says, “and humans are, at their core, simple animals acting on the same instinct as everything else.”
You try to focus on the words he’s saying but you’re too caught up in how beautiful his voice sounds. You are also distracted by his fingers that gently cup your heat.
He pauses, his chest heaving with excitement as he taunts, “You wanna feel good, right?”
You try to nod, but he’s already speaking.
“I know, sweetheart.”
Mercifully, two fingers slide between slick folds. Your back arches forward, seeking to feel the weight of his body but he stays too far away.
He just watches you with a clever smirk. Your stomach tenses under the lustful gaze, but you say nothing.
It’s the right answer.
“You know, your brain actually changes when I touch you like this,” he chuckles.
His fingers continue to trace the outline of your heat but fail to breach the entrance. He is movingly entirely too slow and seems to be taking far too much pleasure in your squirming. 
“The part of your brain that dictates your values and how to make decisions… that’s long gone.”
You know you’re supposed to nod, but you whimper, instead.
“No fear, no anxiety, no pain,” he hums, “your mind can only focus on one thing…”
“Please,” you beg.
He punishes your interruption by sinking both fingers into you without warning.
“Me,” he confirms, “All you can think about is how to get me to keep touching you like this.”
You cry out for him, reach for him like a tether.
He more than lets you. He revels in your nails digging into his skin.
“Your heart and lungs are working so hard, but they can’t keep up.”
Spencer’s motions are faster, his fingers thrusting into you with a ruthless pace. Exactly as he said, you are gasping for air between desperate moans.
But he just prattles on, still sporting that dark, almost condescending smirk.
“Do you want to know why your thalamus is active during sex? It’s because it helps integrate memories. Memories about touch and those secret last-second thoughts just before you fall apart.”
You can’t focus enough to even try to conjure a fantasy beyond his fingers that you are figuratively and literally wrapped around.
He has you exactly where he wants you at the precipice of oblivion. Only then does he remove his fingers and drags them over the swollen pearl at your crest.
“What are you thinking about?” he teases.
“You,” you gasp.
It’s the right answer.
Spencer is quick to kiss you, his lips crashing against yours while his fingers feverishly stroke at the most sensitive part of you. His tongue sneaks between your teeth until you feel there is no part of you he hasn’t claimed.
You sob against his lips while your body writhes beneath him. You tremble with tension and overwhelming relief until you collapse back into the bed.
Spencer, though, seems unfazed by your exhaustion. Instead, he pulls his hand back and continues his lecture despite your glazed-over eyes.
“Now you’re here. Dopamine is rushing through your body. You might think it’s just about pleasure, but you’re actually learning.”
He stalks closer, crawling over your half-limp body. His eyes are still burning with that same predatory look.
“Right now your body is telling you that I know how to fulfill your needs and it’s trying to figure out how to make sure I’ll do it again and again and again.”
With the same hand he used to touch you, Spencer touches himself.
“But see, this is where it happens. These formative moments when you’re nothing but a blissful mess, that’s how I make sure you come back to my bed.”
He lines himself up against aching folds. He groans at the nearly formed wetness, but he hesitates to push forward.
“Right now your body is begging you to find someone, anyone to take care of you,” he says with great satisfaction. “This is the most important moment, when your blood coursing with dopamine, oxytocin, vasopressin, and prolactin…”
Then, right before he fills you past your breaking point, he chuckles against your lips.
“This is where you fall in love.”
As if on command, your body clings to him. You wrap all your limbs around him and try to bring him closer somehow.
But he’s already too close. Each time his hips crash into yours, you can feel him bottom out with an almost euphoric jolt of pain.
You can feel it, the truth in everything he’s said. His skin burns into yours as your heart struggles to keep up with the slew of sensations. Your chest, face, and neck are on fire, and he seems dedicated to trying to quell that heat with feverish lips.
After what feels like forever and not nearly long enough, he fucks you even harder. His teeth sink into your neck and the almost-pain makes you shiver.
“Do it again,” he growls against bruised skin, “Come for me.”
With a particularly brutal thrust, he fills you until you have no other choice. Your body snaps, seizes around him and begs him to reward you one final time.
You feel the gentle waves of warmth, the heavy throbbing of his cock as he joins you in the bliss. Your bodies begin to slow from frantic motions until you are left cradled in an exhausted embrace.
Spencer moves just enough to be able to kiss you, soft and slow and without any hint of pain.
And you know that… is exactly why you're there.
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keerysfreckles · 3 months
Note
I saw you asked for luke requests so basically here i am😭😭
Luke x daughter of Apollo reader, who is just so unbelievably sweet and sunny and awesome and Luke who is genuinely head over heels for this girl he’s barely even talked to. Perhaps Annabeth utilizing forced proximity??
daylight — luke castellan
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pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem!reader
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, kissing, percabeth!!!
a/n: did i steal the jackie x cole kiss from my life with the walter boys as reader and lukes kiss..? .......no...
masterlist !
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
y/n wasn't sure what attracted her to luke castellan. maybe it was his charm, especially how charming he was when she first arrived to camp. maybe it was his looks. y/n always thought luke was way better looking than his siblings (don't let him find that out). or was it how she always felt giddy around him? she never felt this way around other campers, so what made luke so special?
the apollo girl was trying to figure it out on the way to breakfast, when a pair of hands clapped down on her shoulders. it brought her out of her trance.
the culprit was the hermes boy she couldn't get out of her head. luke castellan. along with annabeth beside him. y/n was confused once percy wasn't there. wherever annabeth went, percy followed.
"you've been so lost in thought recently, you okay?" y/n could tell luke was sincere while asking.
she only shrugs, "just have a lot on my mind i guess," she sends a smile to the pair before rejoining her own siblings at the apollo table.
annabeth simply shrugs towards luke, who's clearly just as confused by y/n's actions.
all throughout breakfast, luke couldn't keep his gaze away from y/n. her thoughts from earlier must have vanished. luke watched as she smiled brightly with her siblings. a smile that could light up the whole room, luke thought.
as cliche as it sounds, the way the sun was rising shined against y/n's hair perfectly. it was as if there was a halo surrounding her, securing the fact that she embodied sunlight.
when campers talked to y/n, they always left with a smile. luke was a victim to that as well.
as annabeth was walking back to her own table, with her second round of breakfast on her plate, she caught lule staring at y/n.
annabeth leaned down to luke, and the action made the boy jump, only making annabeth laugh. "and we're dreamily looking at y/n why?"
"damn annabeth, why don't you just restart my heart while you're at it."
"you didn't answer my question."
"i doubt i have a chance with her," luke sighs.
"you mean as in a relationship?"
luke nods, and annabeth sits beside him, not caring about the table rules in this very moment.
"why do you think she may not like you back?" annabeth questions.
"do you see her?" annabeth nods, choosing to ignore luke's grand hand gestures towards you. "she's the literal sun. everything about her is so pure, and positive, and perfect. what would she even like about me?"
"well, have you talked to her about this?"
luke looked at annabeth as if she had three heads and each one had smoke blowing out of it's ears.
"why on earth would i tell her? do i want to be made fun of by the most breath-taking girl at camp?" he said it if it were obvious.
without a word, annabeth left. this only confused luke. annabeth always had to have the last word in the conversation. luke knew she was planning something. he just wasn't sure what.
"why would there be a dolphin in the library of your cabin?"
to say y/n was beyond confused would be an understatement.
less than five minutes ago, annabeth informed her of a rabid dolphin placed in the middle of her library in athena cabin. y/n couldn't even get a thought out before annabeth started dragging her out of her own cabin.
"probably percy's idea. i don't know i haven't asked him yet." annabeth was still dragging y/n by her wrist.
"why don't you ask your little boyfriend about it and not me?" y/n offers. she sees annabeth become flustered as her grip loosens only for a moment, before the two girls end up outside the library door of athena cabin.
y/n pointed to the closed door, "and what exactly do you think i'm going to be able to do about a rabid dolphin?"
"you'll know," annabeth simply states, before pushing y/n inside quite aggressively. y/n hears the door lock.
"did you get the deranged raccoon story too?"
y/n turns to see luke looking through some of the books. she soon realized annabeth's little plan she had going on.
"no, not raccoons," y/n laughs, "a rabid dolphin actually."
"at least yours seems cooler," luke jokes.
y/n leans back against a wall and crosses her arms, already hating the slight awkward tension of the room.
"why would annabeth even trap us in here together? we barely know each other."
luke shrugs, "maybe that's what she wanted. for us to get to know each other better."
"i'm sorry, but doesn't annabeth, daughter of athena, goddess of wisdom, have something better to do with her time than trap two camp counselors in her library?"
luke couldn't help but laugh at the girl's response. she did have a point.
simply with the desk lamp light glowing towards y/n, luke still thought she looked like a human version of the sun.
"you're staring."
luke didn't even realize a few minutes have passed.
y/n only giggles at his flushed appearance, and walks over to stand beside him at the desk. a few books are opened. probably from annabeth doing more research about gods-knows-what. luke was now turned towards the books, and he felt y/n lean her chin upon his shoulder.
"do i make you nervous castellan?" she teases, jokingly at first. until she realizes he just tensed up at her phrase.
she slaps his upper arm, "oh my gods, i do make you nervous!" she exclaims.
luke rolls his eyes, "yeah, yeah, rub it in."
"am i dreaming right now? or does the luke castellan get nervous around me? and not some aphrodite camper?"
"aphordite's daughters have nothing on you," luke doesn't dare to make eye contact with the girl, but he's well aware of her staring. "you're literally a walking ray of sunshine. what can't i like about you?"
y/n involuntarily blushes at the compliment. she then places her chin back on luke's shoulder. finally, the taller boy looks at her. he swore he saw golden flakes dancing around her pupils.
there was a sudden change in atmosphere. neither of them could pin point why, but they weren't opposed to it.
"when i first got to camp, you made me nervous," y/n admits.
luke's eyebrows raise, "really?"
she simply nods, "the cool guy hermes camper wanted to talk to me more than his own brothers? of course you made me nervous."
both of them laugh at y/n's words, knowing they're nothing but true.
"why didn't you tell me before?" y/n asks, referring to luke's confession moments ago.
"i was worried you'd find it odd. and maybe you wouldn't want to talk to me, it's dumb i know," luke cuts himself off from his own rambling.
"it's definitely not odd," y/n reassures, "it's kinda cute, like you."
luke wasn't sure if he heard that last part right. maybe he just imagined it in his head, as something he wanted to hear. but he turned his head to face y/n. he was met with her staring back up at him, with worry filling her eyes as he didn't respond back.
"i like you luke, probably a lot more than i should," y/n moves her body away from luke's as she begins to walk towards the other side of the library.
however before she can even walk three steps away from the boy, his hand grabs at her wrist, halting her moments.
silence fills the room. not an uncomfortable one, but a steady silence.
luke pulls at y/n's wrist, making her hand collide with his chest. because of their height difference, now y/n had to look up at him. she gulped quietly, scared of what luke was going to say, or do to her.
the next event only confused y/n more.
luke leaned down and kissed y/n on the lips. she closed her eyes and savored the short but sweet feeling. in fact, it was too short for her liking. she broke her arm away from luke's grasp and he thought he was done for right then and there when she grabbed the back of his neck to bring his lips to hers again.
this time the kiss was much more passionate. months or maybe years of pent up emotions spilling out into it.
the two were too caught up in the moment as a muffled voice from behind the door became louder, and the door opened with the same voice following.
"do you really have a dolphin- OH MY GODS,"
y/n and luke turn to see percy standing in the doorway, with annabeth running up behind him.
"i tried to tell him," annabeth defended. "come on seaweed brain, let them have their moment."
"right sorry," percy then closed the door, before opening it again, "leave enough space for jesus between you two. i mean it!"
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mooshywrites · 3 months
Text
Mage Hand
Fem!Reader x Gale
Masterlist
Art commissions
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A/N - This one is a lil more adventurous than my last. I’m getting more confident with my writing, so… expect degeneracy.
Word count - 3.2K
Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, established relationship (Gale proposal route), Vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, exhibition, spell sex??, creampie, biting, Unprotected sex, dirty talk, hidden sex, public-ish sex, typical Gale corniness
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“You might want to dampen those pretty little moans unless you want someone else to hear.”
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“How is this next bookshop going to be anything different than the last ten we’ve been to?” You whined, trudging after the brown haired wizard.
Gale had dragged you across the entire town, popping shop to shop to find more spell books. You tried your best not to be annoyed, but this was supposed to be your week.
”Last one, sweetest, promise!” He called back, not even turning to face you as he continued down the street.
”You owe me.” You grumbled. This is the last time you let Gale plan a date. Who would think that leaving just one day of your honeymoon to him would end with the two of you searching every street for anyone who had even so much as a picture book on spells.
Thankfully, this next shop had to be the last book store in the town. Hopefully, at least.
Gale walked through the doors of the building, a rather rundown sort of place. Vines ran their way in and out of the cracked wood siding, ending in blooms of tiny purple flowers. You might have even found the place adorable if it didn’t smell like mildew and unaccomplished sorcerers.
“Welcome to Lichen, Lizards, and Library!” A voice yelled out further in the room. You had to squint to see them, the “library” being much darker inside than the bright and bustling street beyond.
The voice belonged to a tiny dragonborn woman, much of her height hunched over a gnarled cane. You suddenly felt bad about your previous opinions of the place. By the way the elderly she-dragon hobbled towards you, you doubted the woman could stack more than a couple of books, much less manage the upkeep of the shop.
“Good day to you, m’lady.” Gale replied warmly, taking a step further into the ill-lit interior. “You wouldn’t happen to have any spell books for sale, would you, madam?”
“Spell books!” The she-dragon chucked, nodding her head. “We’ve got all the beginner books you could manage between the two of you! Last shelf on the right, dearie.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the woman. Customers probably came back to this shop time and time again just to see this grandmotherly Dragonborn.
”Well, you see…” Gale sighed, gesturing towards himself. ”I’m not exactly a beginner. Do you happen to have anything with a greater difficulty?” He asked with a hopeful smile.
The dragonborn narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the man.
”Wizard?” She prodded.
”Y-yes, in fact, I am.”
”How good are you?”
Gale scoffed, clearly taken aback by this line of interrogation, “Good enough to defeat an Elder Brain!”
The elderly woman narrowed her eyes even further. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had demanded the wizard cast ’wish’ just to prove it to her.
She finally nodded, her decision apparently made. “Follow me, then.”
You gave Gale a confused look, the man only answering with a shrug as he followed the she-dragon.
”I don’t usually show customers our more unusual books, but it seems like you’re up for the challenge.” The shopkeeper called over her shoulder.
The both of you followed as she hobbled her way to a door at the end of the room. You passed by shelves filled with all sorts of oddities, stacked with books, various skulls and jars. It was almost eerie, this little woman’s collection.
She opened the door, holding her hand out in invitation, “If you need anything, I’ll be in front. Yell loud, the old ears aren’t what they used to be.”
“Thank you.” You smiled politely, stepping into the smaller room with Gale, the door swinging shut softly.
This room was much more well-kept than the shop outside of it. The shelves were free of dust, books organized neatly by letter. You couldn’t help but marvel as your hand trailed over the spine of a crimson red book. It had to be expensive, the lettering of the title glinting a beautiful gold.
“This place is incredible.” Gale murmured, his eyes trailing over the shelves before throwing a smile your way. “Told you the last one would be the one.”
You rolled your eyes, pressing your lips into a tight line.
“Oh, not the silent treatment, darling.” He chided, pulling you closer to him. “What could I have done to deserve the lonely absence of your voice?”
“Maybe dragging me through town looking at shops during our honeymoon?” You scoffed. “Looking for spell books of all things! What else could you possibly learn?”
You bit back your tone, seeing how his expression immediately faltered.
“You’re right, in truth, I didn’t really think it would take all day to find a shop with books that had more in them than… well… firebolt.” He smiled.
You couldn’t help but relax your glare, knowing he didn’t truly waste the day on purpose.
“Fine. Then I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.” You grinned.
”You must be careful with such threats, darling. It is our honeymoon after all. Wouldn’t want to get a man’s hopes soaring.” He teased, kissing your nose. “But yes, I will make it up to you at my earliest convenience”
You sighed with a nod, stepping back out of his arms. “Go ahead then.” You gave in, shooing him towards the bookshelves.
You turned your attention back to the red book, pulling out to leaf through idly. “What do you even think you’ll find in these?”
“Who knows.” He responded. “There’s not many spells I don’t have at least an idea of. But these books may have new ones. Or even advanced versions of spells I already can do.”
“Like what?” You questioned, reading further into the book. Apparently, this one was about a more practical way to summon a mephit.
“Like here,” He said, pointing to his own book. “Advanced Mage Hand. Instead of only lasting for a minute, this one lasts for ten.”
You were barely registering the words, engrossed in the science behind the summoning magic written in the pages before you. “Why would you need Mage Hand for ten minutes?” You asked, distractedly.
“Guess you would have to use your imagination. Endless possibilities.” Gale replied.
“Uh-huh.” You murmured, not really listening to your wizard. This book was just too fascinating. Who knew there was so much more knowledge out there about the construction and anatomy of a mephit?
It took Gale murmuring under his breath in a strange language to grab your attention.
“What was that?” You asked, your gaze flitting up to him.
He looked back at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What was ‘what’?”
“Oh, I thought you said something.” You shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book.
You were a couple more sentences in, comfortable silence falling over the room when you felt something on your ankle.
You couldn’t even begin to guess whatever it was that had touched you. It was feather light and cool, barely whispering over your skin. There one moment and gone within the split of another.
You looked down, trying to see what had brushed over you, only to see absolutely nothing.
Strange, must have been a breeze. There were many cracks in the walls I saw on the outside, you thought to yourself.
That is, until the cool touch grazed against your knee.
You froze, your skin erupting in goosebumps. You looked back towards Gale, questioningly, only to see him seemingly engrossed in the book he was reading. Your eyebrows furrowed, looking back to your legs.
No, still nothing there. Am I crazy? Have I been cursed?
The touch rose further, icy invisible fingertips racing along your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, a slight sense of panic rising in your chest.
Gale cleared his throat casually beside you, your attention shooting up to him again. At first glance, he was being completely normal, but at closer inspection, you saw the way his ears flushed a barely perceptible pink.
Aha!
“It’s you!” You whisper shouted, pointing at him accusingly.
He faced you, eyebrows raised. “What are you talking about?”
As he spoke, the ghostly touch rose higher, much too close to your center than you cared to focus on.
”Play as innocent as you want.” You seethed, your cheeks beginning to heat. “Something is touching me, and it better be you.”
Gale couldn’t keep up the act, finally giving you a sly smile. “I wanted to see how useful this advanced Mage Hand really is.”
You gasped softly as the touch became firmer, pressing a single spectral finger against your clothed cunt.
“I couldn’t see it.” You managed to say, trying to hold on to at least a bit of dignity. In truth, you couldn’t deny that the feeling was… interesting.
”Another feature of its advancement.” Gale smiled, keeping his eyes trained on yours.
Another finger pressed against you, adding a delicious sense of pressure to your heat. You should’ve been embarrassed of how much you enjoyed this touch, how it made your mind cloud with lust. The fingers shifted slightly, barely brushing against your clit.
You covered your mouth quickly to suppress a whine, trying your best to give Gale a half-hearted glare. “Stop that. Someone will hear.”
Gale took a step closer, tilting your chin up with his hand. “Who? The she-dragon? As long as you aren’t too loud, the old bat won’t hear a thing.” He murmured, his gaze trailing down to your lips.
You couldn’t even give him a response, the mage hand shifting to part your panties to the side.
God’s above.
The touch was even more incredible now that there wasn’t fabric between you. A finger ran feather-light over your folds, spreading your wetness almost painfully slow. You let out a strained whimper, craving more friction than it gave you.
Gale closed the distance between you, pulling you flush against his chest. His hand pulled your chin up to him, swallowing your moan with his lips. You melted against his touch, rocking your hips slightly against the Mage Hand.
Gale chucked slightly, his other hand resting on the curve of your back. “So eager.” He whispered, parting from your kiss only just.
The fingers spread apart the petals of your flower, rubbing wide circles around your entrance, tracing figure eights everywhere but where you needed it.
“Please, Gale.” You choked out, eyes scrunching shut in desperation.
“Please what, dearest?” He responded, his voice low and teasing.
“Please, just touch me!” You said louder, pressing your hips against him, opening your eyes to beg with even your gaze.
He pressed a finger over your lips, warning you to control your volume. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown out with need. His lips were ever so slightly puffy, swollen with the heat of your earlier kiss.
She-dragon be damned, all you wanted was to hear a moan fall from those plump lips.
The spectral hand finally gave you what you wanted, dipping into your cunt slowly. You sighed in relief, letting your forehead fall to rest on Gale’s chest. What you imagined was the ghostly hand’s thumb traced small circles around your clit, a single finger pushing in and out of your sex.
You couldn’t help letting out another soft moan as another finger joined the first, thankfully the sound being muffled by Gale’s hand.
“Shhht.” Gale tutted quietly, his voice raspy in your ear. His hand moved from the small of your back, coming up to cup your breast. “You might want to dampen those pretty little moans unless you want someone to hear.”
You bit your lip, putting all of your focus into being quiet. What a losing battle you were fighting, however, Gale’s hand beginning to knead the soft flesh under it. Your nipple hardened under his touch, pushing through the fabric of your shirt. Gale smiled devilishly, fingertips grazing over the nub.
“If I had only known such magic existed before our honeymoon started.” He murmured. “We never would have left the inn.”
You bit back a moan as the fingers started pumping faster, arousal coiling tighter in your lower belly. Your legs began to feel heavy, your arms clutching at Gale for balance. The molten fire in your veins grew hotter and hotter, your muffled moans whispering out closer together. You were right on the edge, you knew your orgasm was close.
Suddenly, the touch disappeared.
You whined angrily, your eyes coming up to glare at Gale. He wasn’t usually one for orgasm denial.
Gale only chuckled, planting a soft kiss on your lips. “Apparently, ten minutes seemed to have been a bit of a stretch.”
You looked away, pouting. “Or maybe you lost concentration.”
Gale leaned in, kissing the shell of your ear before his teeth grazed against the skin gently. “Shall I replace the absence?” He nipped.
You nodded, not trusting your traitor mouth to answer with anything other than a shameful moan and string of begging words.
With a slight rustling of your heavy skirt, Gale cupped his hand against your sex. You whimpered a breathless moan, His middle finger delving between your folds.
He groaned in your ear, raising goosebumps along your arms. “So wet for me already, my love.”
You couldn’t respond, your hips having a mind of their own as they pressed further against his touch. You needed more. More pressure, more friction, more him.
“I can’t.” You whimpered, your legs felt as if they may give out at any moment.
Gale seemed to know exactly what you needed, hands hooking below your ass to pick you up. You couldn’t help but notice the hard length that pressed against your stomach as he carried you to the table in the corner. You ground against his cock helplessly, much too… well… much separating the two of you for your liking.
Gale let out a strained moan at your movements, setting you on the rough wood as softly as possible. It took mere moments for the two of you to remove those pesky barriers, Gale unlacing his trousers and you hiking up your dress. Your underwear were all but ruined, your cunt practically dripping with arousal.
Gale pulled you into a kiss, his member finally free against your soaked core. Moans mingled between both of your lips, Gale grinding against you in slow controlled thrusts.
You pulled away slightly, looking into his eyes. His tousled hair and lust crazed gaze almost had you coming on the spot.
“Gale” You whispered softly, pushing your fingertips through his soft brown locks. “I need you.”
”Your wish is my command.” He chuckled darkly, pushing his length inside you.
His hand shot over your mouth, anticipating the moan that ripped from your throat. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.
“By Mystra’s Light.” He strained out, grinding deeper against you. “You’re so tight around me.”
You cunt clenched at his words, earning another groan from his parted lips. You knew you wouldn't last long. Especially not after being deprived of your orgasm earlier. Even now, you felt the desire burning red hot in your lower stomach, the tightness in your muscles.
“Gale I-“ You whispered, voice desperate.
“Shht, dearest, I know.” He assured, beginning to push short, shallow thrusts within you.
“More!” You whined into his hand, nails digging softly into the man’s scalp. “Gods above, just fuck me!”
That’s all it took to snap the cord in Gale.
He thrusted into you savagely, heavy breaths panting in your ear. His spare hand held your hips close, his eyes meeting yours. His gaze was passionate, communicating all the words you weren’t able to say through his palm. You might’ve been worried about the shopkeeper hearing the raw wet sounds of Gale thrusting to the hilt, but the delicious stretch of his cock inside of you had you distracted from such trivial things.
It didn’t take but moments for the spring to pull tight in your mind, pleasure pulling you to the brink of snapping. Gale seemed to be close to the same, his brows furrowing and his grasp on your hips becoming tighter.
“Darling, ‘M close.” He warned, his voice worn and teeth gritted tight.
All you could do was moan into his touch, your heat clenching helplessly around him. His thrusts lost their rhythm, becoming deeper and desperate.
You felt a shiver before the world went white, every muscle in your body tightening as your orgasm hit you. Every nerve felt as if it were kissed by fire, all sound drowning out to the background. Your pleasure only intensified as you felt Gale’s warmth flood into you. He clutched you close as you both worked your way through your highs, Gale’s hips grinding raggedly.
When both of you had returned to the world of the living, Gale let out a chuckle. “Say what you will, but I’m glad I dragged you through every bookstore in this town. It ended quite well for me.”
You scoffed, feigning annoyance as you hit his chest softly. “You just wanted to bed me in a bookstore. Admit it.”
He held his hands up, pulling away from you with a groan, “You’re right. Guilty as charged.” He teased. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, ever so gently cleaning the two of you off.
“Well, I suppose we should find our way back to the Inn. Few more spells in here I have theories for.” He smiled, helping you off the table.
You blushed, smoothing out your dress, hoping no one would correctly assume why it had been wrinkled. “We better go pay for it then.” You quipped.
The two of you walked out hand in hand, Gale carrying your new find. Thankfully, the elderly dragonborn didn’t seem as if she knew what had happened in the back room of her own shop. She was perched upon a stool behind a desk, snoring loudly. It gave you some comfort. If you couldn’t hear the snoring from the other room… then hopefully…
“Ahem.” Gale cleared his throat as you approached the desk. “We’d like to purchase this one.
The Dragonborn awoke with a snort, smacking her lips together after a yawn. “Well let me see here.” She replied, taking the book.
She raised her eyebrows, nodding approvingly as she read the title. “A good find.”
Gale brought out his coin purse, paying for the book as the she-dragon and wizard made idle conversation. Your mind wandered to whatever other spells could be in the book. If one single entry could end this well…
The she-dragon took the coin happily, giving the book to Gale with a wave. You smiled at the woman, saying a soft goodbye as you began to exit the shop with your wizard love.
”Akra!” The woman croaked out, just as you had just almost passed through the doorway. Gale looked questioningly back at the woman.
“Uh, I’m sorry, madam. What was that?” He called out.
“It’s my name.” The elderly she-dragon yelled back, grinning from ear to ear. “The name you can call your little one in nine months!”
Your cheeks went beet red as Gale laughed out an awkward goodbye.
“Be sure to visit Lichen, Lizard, and Library again!”
You swatted at Gale’s arm, the man practically snorting back laughter as you made your way further into the streets. Not even the fires of Avernus could burn brighter than your flushed cheeks in this moment.
“Tomorrow, you’re staying in the Inn while I go to town.” You seethed, not even able to look at the wizard.
All gale did was chuckle back in response, taking your hand in his.
“I question the wisdom of that decision.”
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kiss-me-muchoo · 10 months
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𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲? || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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part one || part two: Suddenly, we have a baby || part three: Dharma
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲- what was supposed to be a date between you and Miguel, ends up being a night to babysit Mayday. Was it enough to unleash a baby fever? 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- nah, just fluff. clingy!reader x grumpy!Miguel + cute!Mayday, implied age gap (legal) and implied short reader (I’m 5’2, this man can ruin me), implied sex and baby talks. NO PROOFREAD!!. 𝐀/𝐍_PLEASE, listen lover and false God along this!!!!
♪ ♫ my miguel playlist. ✰ index (masterlist/ other works there)
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Irritant and cute giggles.
That’s all Miguel keeps hearing. He’s fixated on the screens of his office. At some point, he checks to see how his new white and red suit is doing.
But every damn time, he gets distracted by some giggles.
Until the giggles turn into strong waves of laughter, he turns, visibly annoyed.
Peter is holding Mayday, and you are seated across them and erupting into laughter once Mayday imitates some growling sounds from you and Peter.
Okay, the sight looked and sounded adorable. Mainly because it was you making the baby laugh and make funny sounds. But Miguel had work to do…
“Hey!. You three, out. You’re annoying me,” Miguel spits out. Peter, Mayday, and you turn to see the man.
“Someone’s being grumpy…” Miguel sees you exchange mocking looks with the little girl. And Peter is only there existing.
Then you stand up, and with a little jump, you’re on his floating station/desk, whatever.
He feels you tickle his rib, so he looks down on you.
You are telling him to lean down a little. So he does.
You stand on your tiptoes and smash his cheek with a kiss.
“See you at home?” You ask.
Peter nor Mayday can’t see it, but Miguel has a hand on the small of your back; his way of saying I love you, be safe. Because he couldn’t be utterly soft around the workplace.
“Say bye to the bitter man, Mayday,” you say, taking the baby from Peter’s arms.
The three of you started leaving with another long wave of laugh and chuckles.
Of course a pain in the ass for Miguel.
Later that day, a mission was successfully accomplished. Miguel had gone to a different one with Jessica, Lyla, lego Spider-man, and Spider-cat (his low-key favorite interns).
On the other hand, he was impatiently waiting for you to come back and go home together. He was in the mood to spend some time at your place.
It was your grandparent's house, and it was beyond cozy. Miguel had to admit that living on futuristic Earth was excellent. Still, even when your home could be considered as yesteryear, it was better.
However, he could not see the time to leave because he couldn’t find you anywhere.
He even started to worry something had happened.
Hobie, Gwen, Miles, Peter, and Mayday weren’t Miguel's best options for missions. But… they were your family.
“Why the pout?” Suddenly, Jess appeared at his side. Miguel ignored her and kept walking through the long hallway. Some spider people greeted him and Jess, she made brief conversations, and Miguel only sent them nods.
“I’m not pouting…” he answered finally.
“You are.”
“No.” Jess chuckled, rubbing her giant belly.
Miguel gave her a quick glance. Realizing that her coworker was heavily pregnant. It had been some rough months, especially after the events that Miles brought to everyone in the HQ. So for Jess, it must’ve been worse.
“Have you seen y/n?” He asked.
“She’s been here for some hours now. She contained the anomaly with Peter and the others” Then where the hell were you?
Suddenly, a loud noise came from the cafeteria.
Miguel and Jess exchanged some looks before walking all over the hallways that would lead them to the cafeteria.
The scene was… interesting.
Hobie was driving the spider-car, you on the passenger seat with Mayday in your arms and spider-plushie on your shoulder.
In the backseat, Miles and Gwen were laughing and looking back.
And chasing the car, Peter B. Parker tries to catch everyone with a poor running pace.
Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Don’t complain. You married a younger woman…” said Jess laughing at the sight.
Soon, the car disappeared through another hallway, with Peter screaming to stop the vehicle.
“I’m not complaining. But-“ he wouldn’t say it out loud, but Miguel loved you just like you were. He wouldn’t change anything for you.
“I’m not gonna be here soon. You gotta be conscious that you’ll deal with them all alone.”
“I know…” you had a mature side that Miguel enjoyed regarding safety, health, and serious decisions. But he also loved that you remained optimistic most of the time.
And he couldn’t blame you. Back home, you had few real friends, only two girlfriends, and your family.
Both girls were shocked to learn that you were engaged less than half a decade after high school. But they were so supportive, and they accepted Miguel. Same story for your family.
Then spending time with his least favorite coworkers made you happy. So Miguel could handle the annoying moments. Just for you…
“Tell me if I’m trespassing. But… What do you do together? It’s still unbelievable that you two are married.” Miguel gives her a stern look. He doesn’t like to discuss his private (nor public) life with you, but somehow Jess wasn’t a burden of questions like Peter or Miles and Gwen.
“She likes cooking, so we either go to restaurants or cook together. Then she likes spending hours at this giant library near her place,” Jess smiles. Knowing how much you liked spending time between pages and pages.
“So you’re a pleaser. Interesting…”
“Jess…” Miguel warned her. Jessica laughed harder, giving up.
“Okay, okay, sorry. It’s just that… she seems like… the opposite of you. But it also seems like it works well.”
“It does,” he accepts, allowing himself to smile very little.
“Are you taking her on a date this weekend?”
“We haven’t been on a date since… two months?” okay, that sounded terrible for a year and a half marriage.
“Dude…” her tone indicated that it was a catastrophic event, that you and Miguel hadn’t been on a date for so long.
“What? We’re both busy. I’m in charge here; she has work to do here and college stuff. “ it wasn’t that bad. You always made time to make a decent dinner, watch movies, listen to music, and cuddle before sleeping. Miguel couldn’t complain.
“So?” Miguel knew what Jess was about to add. She would say you two didn’t have a child to care about.
And it made him question it. Did he ever see himself being a father again? No.
Would he love to see you pregnant and taking care of a baby? Yes
Would he be able to leave his trauma behind just to be happy again if you asked for a baby?… Maybe.
“I’ll just say it’s a good weekend to spend time together again. Not worrying about work is…Is a relaxed Friday.” she was right.
Maybe Miguel would take her word.
But first, he had to find you.
“Would you like to have a date?” His question popped in a way that made you feel like he was asking for the first time again.
You smile brightly, looking up at him with a slight arch on your brow.
“Yeah. I would love that,” he sighs, relieved.
“Your place. It’s better….” you knew he preferred your house. So you would not complain.
“Sure. Then let me clean today, okay?” He nodded.
Unexpectedly you hug him. Your head barely brushed his chest. And since nobody was around, Miguel hugged you back. His hands caress your head softly, touching your hair.
“I love you so much,” you admit with your eyes closed. He knows it’s obvious. Nobody would’ve stood him for so long, even before marriage.
“Me too, bonita,” he replies calmly.
There’s a characteristic pull you do in his rib every time you ask for a kiss.
So he leans again, but there’s time for a long deep kiss this time.
It’s impossible to not miss your body too.
Memories that shouldn’t appear, assault him at that moment.
Honestly, he can’t wait to have you the next night. You never deny him a good time in bed. And Miguel can’t help but be surprised that a small body like yours has long-lasting stamina.
Except when the weather it’s too hot and your low blood pressure can’t take it.
Other than that, you were so determined to take him and endure anything he decided to give you.
Another big reason to love you.
He’s still kissing you. And he can sense how your body temperature increases. He doesn’t have spider sense but swears he can hear your throbs and pulses around nothing.
A cold shower, that’s what he’s gonna need.
“So.. See you tomorrow, amor.” You say one last time. He lets you go and can’t wait for the next day.
Yeah, even when he sees you every day, no matter what.
Because he’s beyond in love with you.
As you walk towards your little office, you encounter Peter and Mayday.
“Hey!. You two are still here,” they turned, giving you a big smile.
“Yeah, Mayday can’t leave without a warm bottle of milk from here” You wondered what could make the milk from the HQ something special for Mayday. Maybe it was the mascarpone flavor….
“I want to leave early because this girl needs a bath before tomorrow….” you frown, confused. There’s a lot of trust and a great friendship with the man, even when he is older than Miguel and you. And as much as your husband liked to remark that Peter wasn’t a friend, the truth was obvious.
“What’s gonna happen tomorrow?…”
“I’m having a date with MJ, and we hope her mother can take care of Mayday. Cause if she can’t… maybe we won’t be able to- “
“Miguel and I can take care of her…” you suggest immediately.
“Really? That would be great. But… What about…?”
“Miguel? You know him…He secretly likes Mayday,” you respond.
But then you remember you were supposed to have a date with your husband. You haven’t had an entire day with him outside of work. And he hadn’t fucked you since two weeks ago.
But Mayday couldn’t be such a bother…Right? Like, look at that cute face and baby carrot hairs.
“Well, in that case…Do I bring her?” You nod, completely forgetting about Miguel and what could be his reaction.
“Sure. You know my place, right?” Peter had been there several times before you and Miguel got married.
“Yeah. So… at 7:00 pm? I would pick her up before midnight.”
“It’s fine. Right, baby?” Mayday giggles and keeps drinking from her little bottle.
“Alright then… see you tomorrow” You wave goodbye to the duo and go home.
It won’t be that bad.
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Miguel opens the door of your house, and the first thing he hears is soft music playing.
My heart's been borrowed, and yours has been blue
All's well that ends well to end up with you
Swear to be overdramatic and true to my… LOVER!!!!.
You are singing between giggles and pauses.
Okay, he knows the song. He knows you dedicate that whole album to him every time you play it.
And when he enters the kitchen, he wants to pinch his arm to confirm he’s not dreaming.
You are cooking something on the little island: a baby pink dress, red cardigan, hair in a braid.
One hand is stirring something, and the other is… carrying Mayday?
“Oh. Hey, babe!” You greet him, running to give him a peck on the lips.
“Uh…What’s going on?” He asks, pointing at the baby in your arm.
“We’re babysitting her!” Mayday is super concentrated on a piece of watermelon you gave her, chewing and making a mess of her onesie.
“This was supposed to be a date…” he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. But he was expecting some time alone with his wife.
“It is… Peter will pick her up before midnight. We never go to sleep before 2:00am, amor.”
“Great. I have to deal with Peter even on my free day,” you laugh at his exaggerated reaction.
“Oh, don’t be like that. Mayday is a burst of sunshine; she will not trouble us.” When Miguel turns back to see you, the baby is gone from your arms. She’s climbing your kitchen drawers. Your husband instantly panics when he sees Mayday could fall into the boiling water at any moment.
“You have to look after her,” he says to you, eyes switching from you to the baby.
“I’m looking at her…”
“No. You’re looking at the recipe for…mushroom soup?” Mayday trembles, and Miguel runs to basically catch her. But you make a movement that shoots out two webs, making a little swing for her. She coos and laughs happily.
“See? I got her….” you say proudly.
Miguel had to accept you were good at taking care of kids. Making him question it further if he was ready to pop in the question; Do you want a baby?
“Could you two pick a movie? I left some options on the couch” Miguel looks at Mayday, who seems to understand that you need something from her, so stretches her arms to Miguel, asking him to pick her up.
“She’s asking you to lift her, babe.”
He rolls his eyes, and with a grumpy attitude, he picks Mayday in his arms.
You take a mental screenshot of the image. And your baby's fever escalates even more. Only that you swore to not bring up the issue. Because you weren’t ready to find out if Miguel was prepared to try for a baby again.
Miguel and Mayday, they both look at the pair of movies you have out.
All are for kids, but he can easily look at any of those because he would be with you.
And probably would not pay attention.
“Which one do you want?” He asks the girl. She looks at the movies again and points at the pirates and fairies one.
“Good choice,” your husband lets out. Mayday only giggles.
Well, Miguel couldn’t sit next to you.
Because Mayday was in the middle. You made her some tofu nuggets with vegetables because you were an almond babysitter. Also cause Peter said Mayday needed to eat more greens.
She happily looked at the movie while she had the plate before her.
Then you and Miguel had mushroom soup with warm bread and salad.
He never failed to flatter your food; never.
You can feel he’s praying for Mayday to fall asleep.
He has some big fuck me eyes, actually begging.
You can’t help but smile and giggle as he rolls his eyes.
For another twenty minutes, the movie continues. But soon, Mayday climbs Miguel and starts resting on his chest, and no more than a minute later, she’s fast asleep.
Both of you are in shock. He doesn’t even know where to place his hands.
Until you stand to place his hands in the right place, one on her head and the other on her back.
Miguel looks astronomically big with the baby in his arms. And once again, you look with a giant pair of heart eyes.
Your head is screaming; give me a baby, please!!!!!!
However, you and Miguel only stare at each other, probably thinking and wanting to say the same.
“I’ll put her on your bed” You nod, thanking him as his broad figure disappears from the living room.
You take the dishes to the kitchen and clean them.
There’s a long pause after drying your hands with a flower towel. You stare vaguely at your window, looking through the flowers Miguel gave you when he arrived.
You can’t ask him, but you want so badly. He’s your husband, your lover. You should be able to ask him, cause you to talk with him about everything and anything.
When you go back to the living room, Miguel is there. The tv is off, and the whole room is in complete darkness except for your window. Which led some light to enter through the curtains.
You look at him; he’s seated on the couch.
Your mouth opens and closes. Because you can’t find the words.
“Do you want a baby?” He asks. It’s sudden, unexpected, and shocking.
“I-…” You are frozen. His eyes had never been so intimidating. Yet, the love you feel when you come closer to sit beside him is more immense.
“I do, but-“Then you think about him. His past, trauma, and sequels he could have.
“I think I’m ready to move forward,” he can make you feel shocked again.
He’s making an effort… Why ruin it?
“You are?…” you ask, taking his hand. He caressed your knuckles, softening the moment.
“Yes. Since some months ago… I’ve seen you the kid, and I want that,” he leans into your touch. The way you caress his cheeks invites him to stay there forever.
“So…Wanna try?” You’ve never been on the pill or anything; just pure luck. Maybe it turned out for the best.
“Yes…” somehow the moment is awkward. But in a cute way because neither of you knows where to start.
“Is the kid completely asleep?” you chuckle on his lips. So you’re trying earlier…
“Completely passed out. Don’t worry, amor. I’ll be quiet” he spreads his big thighs when you straddle him on the couch. Your weight is incredibly relaxing for him, so he cherishes every moment.
“Bonita…You’re never quiet” his comment makes you blush. Miguel loved the power he had to make you feel like a teenager in love yet. And it wasn’t because of the age gap. It was simply the way you were.
“Yes, I’ll be. Promise…”
You weren’t quiet. But at least Mayday snored.
Peter is greeted by a sweaty Miguel, and you are all disheveled. His face turns into a grin, a disgusted one. He doesn’t even say hi to Miguel; he just steps into your house.
“You two had-“
“NO!” You deny it immediately, drinking a water bottle, ignoring your friend’s judgmental gaze.
“Yes,” Miguel admits with his usual stoic presence.
“MAN..why?” Peter asks in disbelief. Your blush can’t help but increase until you look like a swollen tomato.
“Guess my baby set the alarms of a baby fever…huh?” Even Miguel wants to laugh but does his best to stand still.
“Yeah, okay. Maybe…” you admit laughing nervously.
Miguel disappears to bring the baby, leaving you and Peter alone.
“So, how was the date?”
“So… How was the tango session?” He starts laughing.
“PETER!” You nudge his arm, joining his chuckles.
“Nah, the date was amazing. Oh, how much I love my wife,” he hears your prolonged aww. Then Miguel appears with a happy Mayday again.
“You woke her?” Peter asks, taking his daughter.
“No. She was awake already.” Your husband replies.
“You know? You two will be good at this” You can’t help but smile widely. You hug your friend quickly before saying bye to Mayday, and a second later…It’s just you and him again.
“This turned… good,” Miguel admits.
“He’s right?”
“What?”
“Peter. He’s right; we’ll be good at this” Finally, you see him smile. A genuine smile that is only reserved for you.
“Promise me that we’ll be careful. That we are going to try so hard to keep it going?” He pleads suddenly. Looking down at you with a slight pout.
“Oh, Miguel. I can’t assure you everything will be perfect. But I’ll do my best for us and upcoming additions. I promise,” he nods, pressing his forehead against you.
And again, it’s all kisses and slow heavy breathings.
“I wanna keep trying….” you reveal between kisses. He smiles; you can feel it. No matter what, he would always have you, but… he would try for that baby.
“I think we’re gonna stay up past bedtime,” you giggle, stretching again to feel his warm lips.
Impatient to feel them all across your body.
But little did you know, you had already been hosting a baby for the past three months.
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3K notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 4 months
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Teenage Dirtbag IV (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)
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Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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➥ series masterlist
summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.
Your rescue just comes with a price.
🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄
~
“Oh! Well, aren’t those pretty?”
Your mother’s voice pulled your attention away from the flowers in front of you, throwing her a small smile as she neared you to admire them. You gave her the card when she eyed it, and you watched her smile grow, a fond chuckle escaping her.
“That’s sweet,” she praised. “Is Rafe coming by later?”
It seemed like such a silly question because you and Rafe saw each other almost every day, and your mother knew it.
“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting at the island and fingering a red petal. “He’s doing something for Ward, but he’s coming straight over when he’s done.”
She hummed, and you heard her fussing around in the drawers looking for something. Your gaze was glued to a rose, noting that Rafe got you red this time—your favorite—and you swallowed. It was always the same. Rafe would hurt you so bad that he felt compelled to make it up to you, the flowers would be delivered to your doorstep, your parents would gush, and you’d forgive him with a smile…and then the cycle would repeat.
You plucked a petal, rolling and squashing it between your fingers.
“It’s about time he starts getting prepped on all the family business, isn’t it?”
You glanced up as she took out a pan, her gaze briefly meeting yours.
“Yeah, I guess so. Ward has been asking him to do more things lately, and I know it’s usually work related, so…” you shrugged. “Only a matter of time.”
She seemed satisfied with that answer.
“Good,” she firmly said with a nod. “He can’t provide for you on daddy’s money forever.”
She chuckled to herself, but you could only swallow down bile.
“Rafe is upstanding and all of those things we want for you, but he needs to learn to make money on his own. We’ll never give him our blessing otherwise.”
Again, you said nothing, only looking at the stains on your fingers. Your entire volatile future being mapped out for you should’ve scared you beyond reason, and it sometimes it did, but in this moment, you only felt a numbness that was all too familiar. It all just felt so inevitable, so you didn’t see any sense in fighting it. With a sigh, you stood.
“I’m going to take these up to my room.”
“Put them on the table by your window, so they can get good sunlight,” she threw over her shoulder.
After doing what your mother advised, you turned to your mirror, intently staring at the face in the reflection. The fading bruise on your cheek was nowhere to be found under your makeup, and you were relieved that the same could be said for your neck. A deep inhale had your stomach aching only a tad, and you told yourself that Epsom salt baths could only do so much.
You rolled your eyes, lips pursing at the thought of JJ Maybank.
Naturally, you knew that this wasn’t really his fault. If Rafe were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be covering up bruises with makeup and long-sleeved shirts in the house you’d rather not wear. You knew that Rafe didn’t actually need a reason and that no one could push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Rafe was never the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to do. However, with all of that being said…
You really didn’t like JJ Maybank.
Some part of you knew that Rafe must have provoked him. You knew your boyfriend well, so you knew that without a doubt, but none of that changed the fact that you still had ugly discoloration from where Rafe had pushed you into his dresser. None of that changed the fact that JJ was the catalyst. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have talked to him anyway, but you’d only been trying to be nice.
Trying to do the right thing.
You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and knowing that Rafe never rang it, you didn’t give it much thought. At least until you heard your mother calling your name moments later, and you were forced to descend the stairs in confusion. That confusion wasn’t eased in the slightest when you came face to face with Sarah.
She looked sheepish while your mother only smiled.
“Sarah’s here for you. I offered her something to eat, but she’s insistent that she isn’t staying long,” your mother said, briefly touching the other girl’s arm. “You tell Rose to call me. I have a bone to pick with her.”
They both chuckled—obvious that your mother was teasing—and you watched her disappear into the kitchen before resting your gaze on the blonde before you.
“I’m going to get something to eat at The Wreck. You want to come with me?”
You swallowed a sigh, glancing away and folding your arms over your chest. You didn’t know where this desire for a budding friendship came from, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You and Sarah had only ever been friendly, and considering the company she kept, you’d had no desire for anything more. Being friends with Sarah just felt like a recipe for disaster.
“Sarah…”
She spoke up before you could, huffing and stepping towards you.
“I think Rafe treats you like shit,” she admitted, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I know you love him and see something in him the rest of us don’t, but everything about you just seems wrapped up in him and…he seems very happy to keep things that way.”
You pressed your lips together, eyeing her.
“I don’t like it, and considering I don’t have much say, I figure the best I can do is be your friend. It’ll just make me feel better to know you have someone other than Rafe.”
Her lips turned up as she said his name, crossing her own arms over her chest.
“I’ve thought this for a while, by the way, and I just…” she shifted her feet, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just can’t take it anymore.”
With a sigh, you dropped your arms, and you knew that Sarah could tell what you were going to say.
“Come on! It’s lunch at The Wreck. We won’t be going all the way to Charlotte—Rafe will know where you are. He’s caught up with our dad, anyway, and they’re probably not going to be done until this evening,” she practically pleaded.
It was tempting, you had to admit, even if it did make you feel a little pathetic.
“I don’t know. I’d have to call Rafe and-.”
“You’d have to call Rafe, are you serious?” she scoffed before reaching for her own phone, and you reached for her. “I’m calling him.”
Your eyes widened.
“Sarah…”
Rafe’s tone could be heard even through the phone when he answered, and you felt your heart race.
“I wanna go to lunch with your girlfriend, and since you’re so uptight about knowing where she is at all times and who she’s with…”
The other girl trailed off as he spoke.
“Rafe, you’re stuck with dad for most of the day! I want to go eat, and I want her to come with me… Yes, just me,” she threw you a look at that to which you only looked away. “God, you’re so crazy, you literally treat her like a damn puppy.”
She shoved the phone at you, and understanding what was happening, you sighed.
“Hey,” you softly said once her phone was to your ear. “She just showed up here, Rafe and…”
“She said it’s going to be the two of you.”
You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t thrilled, right now, but you also knew it wasn’t just from Sarah and her antics. Rafe felt cornered. It wouldn’t look good for him to forbid you from going, and if he convinced you to give Sarah some piss poor excuse, she’d likely just ignore it. There wasn’t much you and Rafe agreed on, but you did admit that Sarah Cameron often got her way.
You heard Rafe mutter under his breath, and you didn’t doubt he was cursing Sarah’s name.
“I don’t see why she’s hellbent on butting into your life all of a sudden…”
His tone didn’t make you enthusiastic, and when your eyes met Sarah’s, they looked hopeful. You didn’t really understand why Sarah was taking so much interest in befriending you. You heard her reasoning, of course, but this was new territory, and you didn’t know how to handle it. However, you decided that it didn’t matter. Your boyfriend’s sister wanted to have lunch with you, and if it would satisfy her then so be it.
Pulling your lip between your teeth, you told Rafe something you knew he’d like to hear.
“While I have you, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”
You heard him exhale, and you didn’t need to be with him to know the look on his face. It was the look he often wore whenever he brought you flowers—a mix of smugness and triumph with that small smirk dancing along his lips. Rafe cared about being seen as the perfect boyfriend, but he also cared about your complicity just as much. If he could placate you after a really bad fight, then he could prevent the rare backlash.
The last time you’d threatened to leave Rafe after one of the worser fights was half a year ago. The bouquet he’d given you then hadn’t meant all that much to you when you threw them on the floor. It hadn’t ended the way you wanted to but instead in tears and Rafe convincing you that you were just upset and needed to cool down. He liked to avoid that if he could.
“I wasn’t expecting red, and I was just really happy to see that. It made me feel a lot better,” you told him.
Rafe was silent for a few moments before sighing, albeit with an annoyed lilt. Your gaze met Sarah’s again just as he spoke.
“Just for a little bit. Not too long because I could finish up early with my dad, so…”
“No, yeah, we won’t be long,” you assured him. “It’s just going to be me and Sarah.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said. Let’s hope it stays that way,” he told you.
His tone was clipped, and although he didn’t say it, you knew that there was a silent addition to that statement.
For your sake.
With a nod and a soft goodbye, you gave Sarah her phone back. Her face was expectant, and when you told her you needed to get your jacket, she beamed.
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Sarah had a pout on her face as she played with one of her fries, shaking her head.
“I just don’t get it,” she mumbled. “What do you see in him?”
The drive to The Wreck was far from long and had mostly been filled with awkward small talk. You couldn’t recall a time you’d ever been alone with Sarah for this long, let alone long enough to have several conversations. It was such an odd thought considering you’d been dating Rafe for two years. The more the minutes went by though, the easier the conversation seemed to flow.
However, you now found yourself in the middle of lunch and on a topic you felt was inevitable, to be honest.
Sarah’s gaze was questioning, and you struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. You couldn’t very well tell her that her brother was actually an abusive rapist who terrified you beyond belief. You couldn’t tell her that he’d threatened to kill you on several occasions. It wasn’t possible to tell her that, in truth, you saw nothing worthwhile in Rafe, and you’d merely accepted your future with him.
Instead, you managed to think back to the very beginning of your relationship when you actually loved him.
“He knows what he wants, and I like that…”
It was a trait you’d admired in him once, feeling flattered by how boldly he’d asked you out. Those were the days when you looked forward to seeing Rafe and whatever gift he had for you and whatever date he had planned. That was a time when you’d literally fall asleep on the phone with him, and these days you would be relieved if you could go several hours without even hearing his voice.
“He’s also very generous, and he looks out for me, and he loves being around me. He’s just…so happy when we’re together.”
Everything that came out of your mouth was no longer applicable to your boyfriend, but at one point in time it had been. Without realizing it, your face fell, and you picked at your food. Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face as she mulled over your words before taking a sip of her lemonade.
“Looks out for you,” she repeated. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”
You threw her a look, and she merely shrugged, throwing her hands up.
“I’m just saying! He treats you like he doesn’t want anybody to come near you,” she said, disgusted. “His own sister wants to hang out with you, and you needed to call him for that? That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”
The frown on her face was deep, and you only shrugged.
“You know what he’s like Sarah. You know how…paranoid he can get.”
“Yeah, paranoid that you might actually prefer being in someone else’s company instead,” she scoffed.
You merely sent her a small smile, thinking that she had no idea of the half of it. Before the conversation could continue, two familiar faces walked into the restaurant, and you felt your heart sink. Sarah seemed excited to see her friends, of course, while you, on the other hand, only had an aching desire to leave.
When your eyes met a slowly increasingly familiar blue pair, you couldn’t stop your frown.
You glanced away, and when Pope greeted you, you only sent him a smile in return. Telling yourself that you had the worst luck, you leaned over to reach for your purse. Sarah was talking to the two of them, but when she heard the sound of your keys, the conversation paused.
“I think I should go,” you answered the silent question on her face.
You hated the way it fell.
“We haven’t even been here an hour. Do…?” she trailed off glancing at Pope and JJ. “I know that it’s supposed to be just the two of us, but Rafe won’t know.”
“Sarah,” your tone said it all, and she stood up with you when you went to pay for your food.
“Stay,” she practically begged. “Rafe isn’t here to be his normal asshole self, and you know I won’t tell.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mumbled, craning your neck for either Mr. or Mrs. Carrera.
By the sound of her sigh, you had a feeling she’d witnessed JJ’s conversation with Rafe that day in their house.
“JJ didn’t mean much by that. He was just stooping to Rafe’s level, wanted to piss him off.”
“Well, you can tell him it worked,” you said, throwing her a tight smile.
Her brows drew together, and she ran her eyes over you, concerned.
“What, was Rafe mad at you for that?”
“What do you think, Sarah?” you slowly wondered, fully facing her.
You could see on her face that she hadn’t considered that possibility, and her shoulders sagged.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sure JJ wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known it was going to come back on you. I’ll talk to him, just please stay.”
You touched your forehead, glancing over her shoulder and quickly looking away when your eyes met the man in question’s.
“They’re your friends, not mine. I really should go…”
She perked up.
“Well, they don’t have to just be my friends-.”
“No, Sarah. I can’t be friends with them-.”
“Why, because of Rafe?” she incredulously wondered. “Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”
You ignored her when the familiar woman came from the back, quickly paying for your meals. When you were done, you only gave Sarah an even look, grabbing your purse.
“You know what your brother is like. Pope can take you home, right?”
You could see on her face that she wanted to argue this some more, a deep frown on her face, but you witnessed the decision to save it for another time. You weren’t stupid enough to think she was going to let this go. She eyed you.
“We’re probably going to John B.’s later, so yeah. I can leave with them.”
Preferring to ignore her mood, you smiled and thanked her for the invite. You said goodbye to Pope and JJ on your way out, thinking of just how shitty your luck was. You’d never put it past Rafe to drop in on you, and you didn’t want to imagine how things would be if he witnessed you having lunch with anyone other than Sarah…but especially Pope and JJ. You were just at your car when you heard hurried footsteps behind you, and you tensed at the sound of your name.
Unfortunately, the face matched the voice when you turned around.
JJ wasn’t close to you, but he was close enough to where you leaned against your car in an effort to put space between you. If he noticed, he said nothing, and you watched him run his hand through his blond locks. You didn’t know what he wanted and considering the last result of a conversation with him, you warily eyed him.
“Look, Sarah told me that Rafe was mad at you about what I said,” he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”
“Why? You knew it would piss him off. That’s why you said it.”
He frowned, glancing away.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think…”
“At the very best you knew it would cause conflict between us. Again…that’s why you said it,” you told him.
JJ stared at you, and you watched him blink, tilting his head.
“Do you ever wonder why you have a boyfriend who loses his shit anytime you even so much as look at another man?”
You scoffed.
“Don’t try to turn this around-!”
“I mean, it’s the truth. You felt bad, you apologized, and call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s something he should get mad at you for,” he casually said with a shrug.
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get paid to think.”
You watched his brows raise in shock at your words, a budding smile on his lips. JJ crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you from head to toe, and you felt something twist in your gut at his perusal.
“Are you always this feisty or is that privilege just reserved for me?”
Rolling your eyes, you turned to open your door when he spoke again.
“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I mean that…”
You hesitated, your gaze focused on your window. You stared at his reflection in it.
“I won’t say anything next time. Ever again, actually.”
With a resigned sigh, you accepted his apology, opening your door.
“There won’t be a next time,” you told him, glancing at him as you slid inside. “We’re not friends, JJ, and we’ll never be. Stop talking to me, I mean it.”
Your words held conviction, but you felt like JJ didn’t take them seriously. He only eyed you, slowly nodding as you closed your door. Resisting the urge to glance at him again, you drove off, only feeling relief the closer you got to your house.
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It was the middle of the night when you found yourself in the Camerons’ kitchen, getting something to drink because sleep was evading you. You knew that you couldn’t be gone for long, no telling when Rafe would notice the lack of body heat next to him. The rest of the house was asleep, and Sarah was with John B.
…and so that was why you were startled by the front door opening.
You could tell they were trying to be quiet, but hushed tones and the shuffle of feet was loud to anyone who was awake—you. Blinking, and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, you made your way to the kitchen entrance. It was dark, but not dark enough to make the three figures hard to make out. When you turned on the light, Sarah actually jumped in shock.
You could tell that she hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but even as she approached you, it wasn’t her nor John B. you were focused on. The blond with them looked almost unrecognizable to you, and you sharply inhaled at the sight of him. He was barely able to stand—no matter how much he tried to—and you could only pull your eyes away when Sarah whispered your name.
“I’m just here to use our first aid kit,” she told you, trying to explain. “John B. doesn’t have shit at his house, and Kie’s parents are so anal about JJ—any of her friends besides me, really.”
Once you gathered your thoughts, you blinked at her, shaking your head.
“It’s your house, Sarah. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you assured her.
“I know, but I’d just really rather not wake anyone up…and it’s also not something I feel like explaining to anyone.”
She glanced over her shoulder, giving John B. a nod, and you watched him pull JJ towards the downstairs guest bathroom. Your lips parted, and you looked at Sarah again.
“Is he going to be okay?”
Sarah pressed her lips together, and when she rolled her eyes, you could see the irritation and anger on her features.
“He always is,” she snidely replied.
At your concerned and questioning look, her face fell some.
“It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before,” she finally admitted. “His dad…”
Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and you swallowed.
“Oh,” was all you said, your heart sinking. “I’d heard things, but…I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“I just don’t get why he doesn’t go live with John B. or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Luke is family…”
She sneered the man’s name, and you felt your frown deepen.
“It’s probably not that simple.”
At the look she gave you, you hurried to continue.
“I just mean it’s probably not that black and white for JJ. No one likes staying anywhere that’s bad for them, but maybe there’s a sense of loyalty he can’t shake yet,” you explained. “If he left his house for good, he just might end up feeling guilty.”
Sarah thought that over, eyeing you in the process.
“Maybe. That doesn’t make it any easier to witness this time and time again,” she sighed.
You didn’t say anything to that, unsure of what to say. When she left to join John B. in assisting their friend, you weren’t keen on retreating to Rafe’s bedroom just yet. You weren’t some professional psychologist, but you didn’t need to be to know why the sight of JJ and the confirmation of his volatile home life affected you so much.
The sight of his bloody and bruised face was unfortunately reminiscent for you.
Your feet made the decision for you, grabbing another glass of water before rummaging in your purse for some painkillers. Sarah was in the hall when you walked around the corner, and she straightened at the sight of you. The bathroom door was cracked, but John B.’s voice carried as he talked to JJ.
“Here, give him these.”
She took the pills and water with a small smile, thanking you. The moment was interrupted by JJ’s tone.
“I can stand just fine,” he sighed. “Just give me a minute…”
John B.’s protest was clear, but you surmised that JJ waved him off, getting his way when the door swung open. The brunette was briefly thrown by the sight of you before acknowledging you, making his way outside. The sound of your name in the air got JJ’s attention, and you wondered just how out of it he’d been to only just now realize you were up.
“Here. Y/N brought these for you,” Sarah told him, voice stern as she demanded he take them.
Getting the hint that he wanted a moment to himself, Sarah took a step back.
“Make sure he takes those,” she told you before going to join her boyfriend.
Truthfully, Rafe was the last thing on your mind as you looked at JJ. Now that his face was clean, he didn’t look as bad, but the bruising and cut on his lip still made you frown. You and he were so far from friends, so standing in the hallway while he leaned one hand on the sink started to feel awkward. You were just about to remind him of the pills and leave when he spoke.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
The observation wasn’t the most astute, and you frowned in confusion. When he swung his head to face you, straightening with difficulty, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran along your face.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he repeated. “…and your face is caked in makeup. Is that one of Rafe’s conditions? Remain perfect at all times?”
You pressed your lips together as he popped the painkillers, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water. You couldn’t very well tell him that you’d spent fifteen minutes covering the bruises on your cheek and neck before coming down on the off chance that you ran into a Cameron that wasn’t Rafe.
“I forgot to wash my face,” was your simple answer.
Your tone was light, unconvincing, and you could tell that JJ didn’t believe you. You didn’t know how, but something about the glint in his eye told you so.
“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “About your dad.”
The blond moved to lean against the doorjamb, staring at you.
“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t be,” you argued.
“Yeah, well, we’re both used to a lot of things we shouldn’t be,” he said, making you bristle. “I should’ve known better. After all…I know what he’s like.”
You didn’t appreciate having your own words thrown back in your face, doubly so because JJ didn’t realize just how much it messed with you. It was funny. When you told him that about Rafe, it made sense to you. That was how you maneuvered around Rafe and so you just wanted JJ to learn to maneuver around him the same way if he wanted to avoid his temper.
Now, however, hearing him repeat that about his own father just made you feel…nauseated.
“That’s not an excuse-.”
“Isn’t it?” JJ wondered, moving closer.
He held your gaze, and the look in his eyes had you biting the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t stop your frown, nostrils flaring at the words he silently threw at you. He didn’t say them, but he didn’t need to.
“That’s different,” you argued.
JJ frowned, head tilted in confusion.
“How so? My dad’s an asshole, Rafe’s an asshole,” he drawled. “Now, Rafe may not be a physically abusive asshole, but walking on tippy toes around him just to navigate his shitty personality isn’t exactly healthy.”
You stumbled back when JJ took another step towards you, lips parting when he cut you off.
“You can’t even have lunch with his sister without the fear of some guy that isn’t Rafe crashing the date…because you know he would just fly off the handle.”
You swallowed down your anger and annoyance at how right he was, glancing away with a huff.
“You don’t know anything about my relationship.”
“I know enough,” he fired back with a smirk.
When your back grazed the wall, it was then that you realized just how close he was. The bruising on his face looked so much scarier this close, and your eyes traced the blood on his lip. Your heartbeat was uneven at his close proximity, and you pressed yourself further into the wall. JJ’s eyes flitted between your own, and when you swallowed, they zeroed in on the action, gaze lingering on your throat.
“I know that if I kissed you, right now…” you sharply inhaled at that. “You wouldn’t tell Rafe…and not because you don’t want to hurt him…”
You slapped his hand way when it reached for your chin.
“…but because you’re fucking terrified of him.”
You furiously blinked, struggling to respond to that.
“You’re an asshole,” was all you could muster up with a frown, voice trembling.
JJ only softly chuckled to himself, nodding.
“Assholes are your type, so that doesn’t sting the same coming from you.”
Pushing your way out from in between him and the wall, you stomped away. You refused to look at him when he thanked you for the drugs, fighting to ignore the goosebumps along your arms underneath Rafe’s shirt.
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