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#it won’t even be a super long phone call
cosmicmunsonwrites · 8 months
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reader gets super drunk with the pogues so they have to call rafe to get her. And he wasn’t very happy
lets have a good time
pairing(s): bf!rafe cameron x gf!fem!reader , the pogues x reader
warnings: alcohol, pet names, almost a fight
summary: after having one too many to drink, your friends are forced to call your boyfriend.
authors note: thank you for the request!! enjoy :)
not edited
do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.
not my gif
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“c’mon, sarah. please?” you whined.
“babe, you’ve already had way too much to drink,” she said with a chuckle.
you began to pout. “but rafe never lets me drink and we haven’t all been together in sooo long,” you dragged. “this is like—like the one night we can have fun. so why not enjoy it.”
“you’re enjoyin’ it alright,” jj joked, taking another sip from his beer.
that gave you an idea. jj always drank with you.
you turned to him with a smile and the two full shot glasses. “jj?”
he could never turn down alcohol. “why not?”
you cheered and handed him one of the shots before counting down, connecting your lips with the glass and leaning your head back as the burn slid down your throat.
the two of you high fived each other before starting to pour yourselves another.
“you think we’ll have to call him tonight?” john b asked, standing with pope, sarah, and kiara as they watched the two take more shots.
sarah nodded. “definitely. she’s not walking in this state.”
“he’s gonna be pissed,” pope said.
“so pissed,” kiara agreed.
sarah sighed and shifted her weight to one foot. “who’s gonna do it this time?”
john b and pope put their fingers on their noses quickly. once kie noticed, she did the same.
“not fair,” the blonde said. “i don’t wanna text him.”
kiara laughed. “he’s your brother. if he hears it from us, he’d probably run us all over on the way here.”
she sighed but pulled out her phone and began to search for his contact to call him instead while you and jj were still drunkenly stumbling around each other, laughing uncontrollably, dancing to the music and taking another shot.
“what do you want?” he asked, voice louder now that he was on speaker.
sarah rolled her eyes. “can you come get y/n? we’ve all been drinking, some more than others, and i don’t think its a good idea for us to drive her home.”
“what the fuck, sarah? i told you about this shit already. stop—“
she hung up before he could get another word out. john b reached into the cooler and grabbed out some beers, handing one to each of the three. “we’re gonna need ‘em for this one.”
“it’s like a ticking time bomb,” kie said. “we’re basically sitting ducks right here.”
sarah shook her head. “he won’t do anything too bad. you know she doesn’t like when he gets all mouthy with us,” she replied, referring to you.
and in record breaking time, the big truck was pulling into the dead patch of grass on the side of the chateau.
you gasped when you saw your boyfriend approaching and immediately run up to him, without stumbling and tripping as much as you can, flinging your arms around him and holding yourself close to him. “hi, rafe,” you slurred against his chest.
“hi, baby,” he said softly. your balance was completely off. he wrapped his arms around you to ensure you wouldn’t fall then looked up to his sister and the rest of the pogues. “are you kidding me?”
sarah shrugged. “she was having fun, rafe. let her.”
“what did i tell you about this? look at her. she can barely even stand,” he spat angrily. “i told you to watch her. and you didn’t. you’re supposed to monitor how much she’s drinking so she doesn’t—“
“hey,” you mumbled quietly, leaning off his chest and stumbling back slightly to look at him. “‘s fine. ‘m fine. i was jus’ havin’ fun with my friends and—and i had a little too much. sarah even—even told me i was drinking too much. ‘s fine though. can we jus’ go home?” you slurred between hiccups.
he took a deep breath. he could never say no to you.
“c’mon,” he said softly. you waved goodbye to all your friends and with a hand on your back to keep you steady, he led you to the car. his hands found your waist to help you up into your seat, strapping you in then shutting the door and hastily walked around to the other side.
you giggled when he got in. “i had sooo much fun today, rafe.”
he smiled to himself and began to reverse out. “i can’t wait to hear all about it, sweetheart.”
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lovelyhan · 1 year
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— again and again ⟢
pairing: mingyu x reader
summary: your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.
word count: 15.7k words
tags: exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut
warnings: medical jargon, mentions of shots (for pets), mentions of snake bites, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)
notes: i wrote this with bss' 7pm on loop for two straight days. nothing like the sweet taste of yearning <3 this also wasn't extensively proofread, so if you spot a few mistakes, i implore you to ignore them EJWHJHSDF
this is part of the doting on you! series.
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smut tags: vanilla, mingyu is super whipped, praise kink, service top gyu, dirty talk, nicknames (babygirl, sweetheart, sweet thing), overstimulation, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, creampie, heads up that the filth is at the very end tho
taglist: @cherrycheolie1995 - @ashkuuuu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @christinewithluv - @fancypoisonapple - @odetoyeonjun - @minnie-mouser22 - @etherealyoungk - @davoraciousreader - @mariondior - @hella-sirius - @coveyland - @marlow234 - @dobomiyeon - @belysusonrisa - @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @seoksoop - @dreamhannies - @renjunphile - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @acgyu - @gae-uls - @pluviophile-xxx - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @yutadae - @smileyjimvn
additional notes: you might want to check your visibility settings if you can't be tagged!
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When you hear the telltale ring as the call connects to its intended recipient, you wonder why you even considered this idea in the first place. Not to mention, you’re getting a nasty case of phone call anxiety—one that you haven’t felt in god knows how long. Maybe it’s because of the identity of the person you’re calling that your nerves are all over the place. 
In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even going to answer. There are a million and a half reasons why famous superstar Kim Mingyu won’t be able to pick up your call. He could be shooting for a music video or some fashion magazine. He could be in the middle of an interview. Or he could be out spending time with his members like tends to these days if his recent Instagram posts are anything to go by. 
But you try anyway because your mother sounded so hopeful in the phone call you just hung up on five minutes ago (The rice wine he got for us last Christmas was splendid! He’ll bring some again for Chuseok, won’t he?), that you just didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.
So, because you can’t take back the pretty white lies you uttered (Uh, of course he will. Gyu told me he missed everyone back at home, too. Especially Namja), you’re attempting to rope Mingyu into the charade even if the odds are against you.
The first call doesn’t go through. Neither does the second. 
By your third try, you’re about to accept the fact that you’re going to have to make some due corrections to what you told your mother until you hear a groggy, “Hello?” on the other line. 
You nearly fall off your seat at the throaty sound of Mingyu’s voice, but you’d rather not get weird looks from your receptionist, so you breathe in as deeply (and quietly) as you can before mustering a smile that he won’t even be able to see.
“Hey, Mingyu, it’s me,” you begin, a bit proud of how your voice didn’t even falter. “It’s been a while. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
He doesn’t respond for a while, and the prolonged silence makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Did the call fall through? Did he not hear what you said? But just when you’re about to repeat the words—
“Kind of,” Mingyu grumbles, and you try not to think about how sexy his morning voice sounds despite it being two in the afternoon. “We finished taping a variety show today and I figured I’d get some sleep. It’s midnight right now.”
Well that’s news to you.
“Oh. You’re not in Korea?”
“Nah. We’re in New York for some brand collaborations,” he says, and you hear some rustling in the background, followed by a yawn. “Though I doubt you’ve been keeping tabs on us.” 
Okay, he doesn’t have to call you out like that.
Sure, you still catch posts from Mingyu, as well as the other twelve members of SEVENTEEN from time to time, but…after breaking up with him (on good terms, promise!), you thought it’s best if you didn’t see too much of them anymore. The block and mute buttons are your best friends, and while you didn’t use them on the members directly, gossip outlets were your regular targets.
So to speak, it’s been a peaceful six months since your break up with Mingyu. 
Until now.
“Do you need something?” he asks, and you realize you didn’t respond to what he said last. “Whatever it is, I might not be able to help you out right away. We’re holed up here until next month.”
Well…that’s all the confirmation you needed.
“I see,” you sigh, trying not to sound too disappointed. “It’s— It’s okay.”
“So you do need something,” Mingyu points out, voice much clearer now than it was two minutes ago. Like he was more awake. “What is it?”
“Nothing you should worry about, Gyu,” you reassure before making a face, not realizing how easily the old nickname just slipped out. “I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to—”
The sound of him whining at the other end sends another rush of vertigo through your entire being. “Come on, I’m awake anyways right? You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep again.”
“If I’d known we weren’t in the same continent, I wouldn’t have called altogether,” you say before quaintly adding, “Shit. This counts as an international call, doesn’t it?”
There’s someone else in the room with him, you think—a quiet drawl of Mingyu-hyung, what time is it? You immediately recognize it as Seungkwan. 
“Five minutes past midnight,” Mingyu says, and Seungkwan asks another question that you aren’t able to catch. “Who am I talking to? Bookkeu and Bobpul’s worst enemy.”
“Hey!” You scowl at him. “They never even whined when you and Seungkwan brought them to me for their shots!”
“Noona? Why are you calling this guy?” Seungkwan says a bit more loudly for you to hear. “Didn’t you dump him already? Good choice, by the way.” 
This time it’s Mingyu’s turn to utter out a semi-offended, “Hey! Mind your own business, Seungkwan-ah.”
A few minutes of bickering with his dongsaeng later, you figure that Mingyu must’ve gone outside of their hotel room for some privacy. You can vaguely hear the sound of the wind blowing on his end before he heaves a deep sigh.
“Sorry about that.” He coughs awkwardly. “Anyway, if you’re not going to tell me about what you needed help with, how are you? Is the clinic doing well? Did your receptionist finally ditch her shitty boyfriend? Does that one guy with a husky still hit on you?”
You’re a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of questions. Last you checked, you haven’t spoken to Mingyu since you greeted him on his birthday over a quick text message. But then again, your ex does have a talent for completely ignoring the time that exists in between interactions. Mingyu’s always been amicable for conversation, idol or not, boyfriend or not. 
The mere thought that he hasn’t changed at all makes your heart ache in more ways than one.
You manage a quiet laugh. “I’m fine. The clinic’s fine. Chae has a new boyfriend now. He even helps us sort out new products on the shelves sometimes.”
At the mention of her name, your receptionist whips her head in your direction, one brow raised. You shake your head with a smile, gesturing that this is nothing she should even be remotely concerned about. 
It’s just Mingyu after all.
“Okay, how about the guy who—”
“I turned him down when he asked me out for lunch last week.”
He whistles. “Ouch. And he’s been trying to get with you all this time.”
“I don’t usually date my clients, you know.”
“Yeah? I must be special then.”
Then comes the silence—so thick, you can cut through it with a knife. 
“Uh, so I have a patient coming in an hour for a castration procedure,” you tell him a bit awkwardly. “Gotta prepare everything before the owner arrives.”
Mingyu sighs, and you can almost imagine him pouting. “You’re really not gonna tell me? I can still help you with whatever you need even when I’m out here. Unless it requires me to, you know, physically be there.”
You chuckle. “That’s the thing, Gyu. You can’t help me because I need you to actually be here.”
“Oh. Why? What for?”
You inhale sharp breath through your nose, closing your eyes as your face warms with embarrassment. Chae is definitely looking at you funnily from her station now, but you tell yourself not to give it too much thought.
“Mom asked if I was bringing you with me for Chuseok,” you admit. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, so… They kind of have no idea that we aren’t together anymore.”
Mingyu falls silent for a while yet again, and you realize that your anxiousness spikes whenever he isn’t talking like there’s no tomorrow. You wonder if he’s figured out what you’re trying to insinuate and is silently berating you for the lapse in judgment. But when Mingyu bursts out laughing on the other end, you suddenly don't mind being on the receiving end of his silence after all.
“No way,” he gasps between chuckles. “You were going to ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend over the holidays, weren’t you?! One of the fans wrote a story about the exact same thing once, except it’s between me and Wonwoo-hyung. It was in English though, but Vernon translated it pretty well.”
…Kim Mingyu admitting to reading fanfiction about himself and Wonwoo aside, you groan. “What am I supposed to do? My family loves you. I’d rather not dampen the Chuseok spirit by saying their favorite son has unfortunately made his unannounced exit half a year ago.”
“So you’re willing to pretend we’re still together just to keep them happy?”
“Well, yeah. It’s not like you’re an ex I should be ashamed of, Gyu.”
“Because I’m an idol that millions are vying for?” 
You roll your eyes. “No. It’s because out of all my exes, you’re the only one that Namja actually likes. That’s pretty much the highest honor you can receive in your entire life.”
Your heart does a little flip when Mingyu barks out another light-hearted laugh. You tell yourself that you’re only reacting that way because…it has been a while since you talked to him. That, and Mingyu was always so smiley whenever you brought up your ten year-old retriever.
“Point taken,” he says. “I’d totally be down to help you out, but…yeah.”
“I knew you would be,” you reply, a sad smile ghosting your features. “That’s why I called.”
Silence settles over the line once again, but it’s, by no means, awkward. It’s more…sentimental. Like two old friends reminiscing about the good memories you shared. 
Huh. You’re friends with Mingyu…
“Anyway, thanks for catching up with me, Mingyu,” you tell him before you end up saying something you’re not supposed to. “I’ll get going now. Good night.”
“Hey—”
You end the call before he can have the chance to make you falter.
Right behind her desk, Chae looks up at you with a knowing look. You flash her a smile that silently pleads for her not to say a word, but your receptionist has always been on the frank side.
“Something’s telling me you’re still hung up on him, boss.”
Sighing, you push yourself back to your feet, tugging on the lapels of your crisp white coat. That might be true to some degree, but it’s not like you can do anything about it.
You and Mingyu live in two completely different worlds. It’s something that you both came to terms with when you broke up. You just had to accept the fact that there’s simply no efficient way to work around his busy schedules and the appointments you need to attend to at the clinic. 
It was the most unproblematic breakup you’ve ever had, and it’s with a famous idol. Who would’ve thought. 
“Anyway,” you tell Chae before nudging the door to the operating room open. “Care to help me look for the anesthetics? I can’t remember where I put them away last time…”
Your receptionist is most definitely judging you inside your head, but despite how straightforward she can be, Chae still knows when to drop it. After a few clicks on the clinic’s desktop computer, she joins you on the hunt for that pesky bottle of anesthesia without asking any intrusive questions.
You make a mental note to treat her to some coffee tomorrow.
One of the reasons you seldomly paid your hometown a visit is the hassle that comes with the entire commute.
First you have to endure the long queue to get tickets before sitting through an eight-hour train ride to the seaside town of Haenam. Then comes navigating the local bus routes and schedules that always seem to change every time you go home. 
When you made it out of the train station for this year’s Chuseok celebration, you didn’t even bother stressing yourself out with taking the bus back to your parents’ house—flagging down a taxi that definitely charged you a ridiculous rate in exchange for your utmost comfort instead. 
You try not to think about how easier it was last Christmas, when you and Mingyu took turns driving one of his company’s cars on the way here—laughing and singing along to their songs on the road like nothing else mattered.
The scent of salt hangs heavy in the breeze when you unload your baggage from the trunk of the taxi. You had the foresight to make the trip before midnight, so you’re rewarded with the sight of the sunrise breaking through the nearby ocean—light glittering across the horizon like it means to say welcome home. 
That’s what you should feel; like you’re at home. But the fact that you’re about to bring some disappointing news to the table regarding your breakup with Mingyu isn’t doing your peace of mind any favors. 
You contemplated coming clean about it to your parents over a phone call, but it seemed too…impersonal with how attached they’ve gotten to your ex-boyfriend. Having a significant other that your family absolutely adores seems like a double-edged sword now that you think about it.
Once the cab hits the road again, you stand in front of your family home with a wistful sigh. It’s barely past seven in the morning, but your father must already be at the pier—sorting out today’s catch with the other fishermen in town.
Your mother loves taking walks in the market even if she doesn’t have anything in particular to purchase for the day. They’re early risers by default. 
You can’t really say the same for your younger brother, Haneul, though. That one likes to sleep until noon. 
When you ring the doorbell outside, you expect to hear the sound of excited barking from the other side of the gate. Namja was always the first to welcome you back whenever you’re in town, and just thinking about reuniting with him quells your anxiousness a little. But surprisingly, you don’t hear the telltale noise of your family dog’s excitement. 
What you do hear is the sound of the screen door opening and slamming back shut—slippers being hastily slid on before the gate creaks open, revealing Haneul still sporting a bedhead as he rubs his eyes.
“You’re back,” he says a-matter-of-factly, like he isn’t even thrilled to see you, but you’re too surprised to see him up so early to quip about it. “Mom said you wouldn’t arrive until noon.”
“I wanted to make the most of my vacation leave,” you explain before looking around the garden inside. “Where’s Namja? Did Mom take him for a walk, too?”
Haneul hums before taking your luggage. “Hm. You can say that.”
“What does that even mean?”
As if on cue, your ears perk up at the sound of a familiar bark resounding from the end of the road. You quickly whip your head around to see your beloved golden retriever, Namja, wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of you before letting out another woof when you call out his name in glee.
However, the moment you realize who’s holding his leash, you suddenly feel like you got struck by lightning.
It’s Kim fucking Mingyu.
The sight of your ex-boyfriend just...standing there when he told you he was on the other side of the world sends a million thoughts surging through your head all at once.
You try not to think about how gorgeous he looks in the early morning light. Loose, long sleeved shirt that still emphasizes his muscular build despite. Hair having grown past his chin, curling slightly at the tips. And those stupid fucking canines that peek from his lips every time he grins. 
The bastard is just standing there with zero disguises, as if his existence in this place, at this point in time, doesn't throw a wrench in all of your plans.
What the hell is he even doing here?!
“Oh, sweetie, you’re back!”
The sound of your mother’s voice is, thankfully, enough to snap you out of your impending mental breakdown. You were so taken aback by Mingyu’s presence that you didn’t notice her standing next to him, carrying the bag she usually brings for her early market visits as she flashes you a warm smile. 
You can only stand there in shocked silence as your mother makes her way back to the house with your dog and ex-boyfriend in tow. Haneul was already inside, so you can’t exactly glare at him for not giving you a head’s up. But given that you still have no idea what on earth is going on, you’ll play along. For now.
“Are you surprised?” your mother giggles before patting Mingyu’s shoulder. “Mingyu here said he got off work for a while so he could celebrate with us!”
“Gee, I didn’t know about that,” you say dryly, unsure of what expression you should even wear. “I thought he was going to be in New York until next month.”
She laughs again. “Oh, he told me and your father to keep it a secret that he’s going back to Korea anyways. Seems like the surprise worked, didn’t it, Mingyu-ah?”
The culprit himself agrees with a minute nod before loosening his grip on Namja’s leash. 
Your goldie immediately bounds towards you at the first sign of freedom, bracing his paws on your stomach as he attempts to lick your neck. It’s enough to distract you from the current predicament at hand, making you sigh in defeat as you sink to your knees and receive Namja’s slobbery affection in its entirety. 
As you snuggle up to the family dog, Mingyu says, “What can I say? I missed Haenam a lot. The scenery, the family, Namja, but of course…”
You can only sit there in growing disbelief as Mingyu mirrors your movements. He crouches low enough so that your gazes are leveled before caressing your face with a tenderness that’s both familiar and foreign at the same time. 
“I missed her the most.”
This is all a charade—that’s what you can confirm from the limited clues he’s dropping for you to pick up on. You can try to figure out why he’s suddenly here in your hometown—having arrived earlier than you, from the looks of it—a little later.
What’s important is that Mingyu, ever-so helpful, is actually playing along with the act you not-so-jokingly told him about on the phone.
You should be glad. 
…But why do those words make your heart ache anyways?
“Of course you do,” you sigh before peeling yourself away from his touch, carrying Namja in your arms as if he doesn’t easily weigh thirty kilograms. “Come on. Let’s get back inside and help Mom prepare whatever she’s planning on cooking for lunch.”
Mingyu’s smile doesn’t falter despite your obvious dismissal of his affection. You remind yourself that he’s racked up a lot of acting gigs throughout his career, so it’s normal for him to be a natural at this. 
But even if you know that this is all an act, you can’t help the way your heart lurches when Mingyu scoops Namja out of your grasp—the mere brush of his skin on yours more electrifying than it should be.
Namja whines in your ex’s arms, pawing at his chest before licking a long stripe across his cheek. Mingyu bursts out laughing as he coos at him, and your chest burns with an indescribable feeling.
A few moments later, your mother starts gushing about how excited she is to have both of you in the kitchen with her again as she leads you back inside the house. But all that rings in your head is a broken mantra of Mingyu saying I missed her the most.
As if repeating the words enough times will make them come true.
...
It’s one thing to know that Mingyu is in Haenam when he’s supposed to be overseas.
It’s another thing to see his usual overnight bag at the foot of your unmade bed, making you realize that he definitely came here much earlier than you anticipated.
Mingyu is currently in the kitchen, helping your mother out with lunch prep while she insists that you get some sleep first. Though the trains that led to the southern provinces were designed to be more comfortable than the ones contained in Seoul, nothing defeats the comfort of your old childhood bed. 
Except when you’re made aware of the fact that your ex-boyfriend probably slept in it after making the trip all the way here. 
The sheets even smell like him. A hint of that expensive fragrance he never seems to get tired of laces your pillows, and warmth rushes to your face when you realize you’re breathing it in a bit too much. 
So what if Mingyu slept here, right? Your parents’ house doesn’t have a guest room, and this was probably the only room available.
Oh, and in your family’s eyes, Mingyu is still your boyfriend. There shouldn’t be anything weird about your boyfriend, who went out of his way to quote-unquote surprise you, sleeping in your room, on your bed, without your knowledge.
And there definitely isn’t an issue with having to sleep next to him on said bed come nightfall.
You totally got this.
An attempt to dissuade all these intrusive thoughts is made as you unload the contents of your luggage into your old cabinet. It works for a while because all the old clothes you still kept tickled some memories from way back in high school, when becoming a vet was nothing but a pipe dream you came up with after Namja became sick on the day of his first birthday. 
In fact, as you look around further, you’re reminded of just how much time has passed since you moved out. The paint on the walls is starting to chip, and the floorboards creakier than you remember. Even the bed that was too spacious for your liking seems to shrink when you imagine Mingyu sprawled all over it with a blanket thrown over his large form. 
But when you recall how you two somehow made the sleeping arrangement work last Christmas, you figure that there isn’t much to worry about.
Aside from the fact that you’re not together anymore. Fuck.
“Hey. Are you awake?”
You jolt at the sound of a soft voice coming from the door. Mingyu’s handsome face peeks from the crack before he opens it all the way, lips pressed together in a hesitant smile.
“Your mom asked if I could fetch your father at the pier in a few,” he says. “Do you want to come with me or do you want to get some sleep first?”
“Do I want to—” you cut yourself off, throwing your hands up in disbelief. “Mingyu, what I want is for you to explain what you’re doing here.”
He cranes his head. “You said you needed help.”
“Yeah, but I was going to be honest about the breakup anyway!” you whisper, not wanting to attract unwanted attention from outside. God knows this house has paper-thin walls. “But then you’re suddenly here, cozying up to my family like we haven’t been ignoring each other for months already.”
“Hey, I’d never ignore you.” Mingyu pouts. “I even picked up when you called me at ass o’clock in the morning, remember? If someone’s ignoring anyone here, it’s you, sweetheart.”
You hate how you bristle at that little pet name. Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice how you react to it, so you steel yourself instead—refusing to give into his unintentional charms. “That’s not the point and you know it, Mingyu. You can’t blame me for reacting this way when you told me that you wouldn’t be able to help me out.”
“But I’m here, right? I thought you’d be a little happier to see me, but I might have been overestimating myself.”
You are. You are happy to see him. 
But having to live with the knowledge that Mingyu is right here, close enough for you to touch, yet can’t because your relationship has long expired? 
You weren’t ready for that. You don’t think you’ll ever be.
“Look,” he starts with a tone that’s meant to placate you, “you were right about not wanting to ruin the holidays with the breakup. I’m just here to help you out since you’re obviously not ready to break the news to your family. It’s not a big deal.”
You scowl at him. “Mingyu, it is a big deal. You are literally an idol with a packed fucking schedule. You can’t just play house with me here when you’re expected to be somewhere else.”
Mingyu shakes his head. “Listen to me first, okay? We were all given the weekend off because of Chuseok on short notice. You don’t have to worry about you unknowingly stealing me away from work because there is no work. Besides, I told you I’d still be here when you need me, right?”
How can he say all that with a straight face? Like he still thinks of you as anything but an old flame that’s long been snuffed out?
The problem with Mingyu is that he’s too earnest for his own good. Always wearing a spectrum of emotions on his sleeve. Always so honest about what he feels about certain things. It’s so fucking difficult to stand your ground against someone who’s nothing but forthcoming about every aspect of his life. 
But it’s not like you could ever resist him to begin with, right?
“Fine,” you grumble. “Give me a few minutes to prep. I don’t want to go out in the docks wearing this many layers anyways.”
You hate how your chest warms when Mingyu’s eyes light up at that. Fight back, maybe?!
He looks like he’s about to say something when an abrupt knock disturbs the quiet atmosphere of your room. From how annoyingly long it lasts, you single out your younger brother as the perpetrator.
“You better not be making your firstborn in there,” Haneul drawls from the other side. 
Mingyu flashes you a mischievous smile before cupping the sides of his hands over his mouth. “We might be making our second born for all you know.”
You won’t survive this weekend. You really won’t.
“Remember when we used to eat ice cream by the Han River?” 
You flash Mingyu a perplexed look as you climb out of the car he used to drive all the way to your hometown. It’s a mystery how his manager allows him to go places with their company car with no supervision, but it’s not like Mingyu has done anything in the past to warrant that kind of surveillance anyway.
Besides, if he’s spending the entirety of Chuseok with a bunch of bodyguards lingering around your house, you might actually force him to go back to Seoul altogether.
“Why’d you bring it up?” you ask. “I thought you didn’t like those kinds of dates ‘cause you had to amp up the disguises and everything.”
Mingyu pockets the keys to the car before leaning against the metal railings installed along the pier. Your father is yet to show up at your rendezvous point, so you figure it wouldn’t do anyone harm to entertain Mingyu’s attempt at small talk. 
“Hmm. While I did prefer just cuddling in the dorms and at your place, it always felt a little different whenever we went out together,” he muses, the wind tossing his hair around slightly before turning to look at you. “How about you? Do you have any favorite date of ours in particular?”
You sigh, unsure why he’s even asking you all of this. Yet you indulge him anyway with, “I don’t think it classifies as a ‘date’, but I kinda liked it whenever you hung out with me in the clinic while I tended to some patients. Even if your presence there is an occupational hazard in itself.”
He snickers to himself, and you know damn well he still remembers the flock of fangirls that ran into him in the waiting room when Mingyu paid you a visit out of boredom. Thankfully, they were the respectful kind, and promised not to divulge information about Mingyu’s whereabouts whenever they catch him at your clinic.
“The dogs are always happy to see me,” he chuckles. “The cats, not so much. Oh, but remember when someone brought in their pet snake? I think that one had a crush on me.”
You do, in fact, remember the day Mingyu got bitten by a boa constrictor named Yujin. Her owner is one of your regulars, since other vets in the city don’t have reptiles under their area of expertise. Yujin hasn’t bitten anyone since she first came for a checkup, so you figure that Mingyu must have done something pretty stupid to provoke the aggression. 
“You better be glad constrictor bites aren’t venomous,” you point out with an airy laugh. “Not even a true love’s kiss can cure a venomous snake bite.” 
“It can cure a handful of other things though.”
You turn to glance at Mingyu with a miffed look at his attempt at smooth-talk. He’s always been this way, so it doesn’t particularly faze you. But it still feels surreal to be talking with him right next to the open sea in your hometown as you both wait for your father to arrive.
“I never really got to ask,” you murmur, eyes still trained on a flock of seagulls huddling together near the docks. “How are you? You’re not burning yourself out again, are you?”
You don’t see it, but Mingyu smiles to himself. “It’s in our job description to push ourselves past the limit, you know. But…honestly? It’s been pretty lonely.”
You make a face at that. “Lonely? You’re literally with twelve other guys, like, eighty percent of the time. How does it ever get lonely?”
Mingyu hums before leaning further over the railing. He looks up at the clear blue sky, breathing deeply with his eyes closed, and for a moment, you’re a bit taken aback by how breathtaking he looks under the spill of morning sunlight. 
“You can still get lonely in the middle of all the noise,” he murmurs. “That’s why I was kind of glad I got to go back here for a while. I know I said I meant to help you out, but there might’ve been some selfish reasoning behind the choice, too.”
Your gaze softens at his words. Mingyu is one of the most intensely passionate members of their group, so it’s not hard to believe that he’s also one of those that ends up feeling this way. You remember having a similar conversation with him during a quiet night in your apartment, limbs tangled together under the sheets as he wonders if your lives would be different if he wasn’t an idol.
But of course, it’s your job to remind him that, even if it could become exhausting at times, he once dreamed of being where he is now. 
“They probably miss you already,” you say. “Don’t you guys usually film content for Chuseok?”
“Yeah, but all of that’s prerecorded. They’re all with their families right now, too.” 
“Really? What are you doing here then?” you tease.
Mingyu tilts his head to the side, lips curved into a lopsided smile that reminds you how it felt to catch feelings for him the first time.
“Who ever said you aren’t family?”
Unfair. He’s being so fucking unfair right now.
But you can’t even think about pushing him into the sea because your father has already made his entrance, waving at the two of you despite his hands being full of fishing paraphernalia. 
He sulks about how it took you so long to go back home, and you had to explain that things have been extra hectic at your clinic, especially when you inevitably earned the reputation of being ‘SEVENTEEN Mingyu and Seungkwan’s trusted veterinarian’ despite neither of them having dropped by since the breakup.
You don’t tell them that last part though. The last thing you need is for Mingyu to have something to gloat about.
“It’s a miracle how those nasty paparazzi folks from Dispatch haven’t caught on yet,” your dad says before climbing into the backseat of Mingyu’s company car. “Unless you’re already in cahoots with them? Remember, Kim Mingyu, leave my daughter out of any celebrity gossip! She’s already built a good name for herself.” 
A throaty laugh rumbles in Mingyu’s chest as he pulls out into the street. “You don’t have to worry about that, sir. Protecting her has always been my top priority.”
Your father nods, seemingly pleased with his response. “Damn straight.” 
You don’t express any outward reaction to what Mingyu just told your dad, but you don’t resist when he reaches for your hand over the center console. 
The moment you he squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back. 
The rest of the day is packed with preparing lunch and dinner options for your other relatives in town. Having Mingyu on board is an undeniable asset, since the man knows his way around the kitchen even better than you do. It’s a little endearing to think that, even if it’s the first time he’s meeting your aunts and uncles and cousins, his personality makes him fit right in. 
Turns out, one of your cousins’ daughters is a huge fan, and she couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Kim Mingyu smoking fish in the backyard of your parents’ house. She made him promise to sign one of her photocards before they leave—a request that your ex is all too happy to oblige. 
By dinnertime, most of the guests have already left, and it’s just you, Mingyu, and Haneul sharing the rice wine Mingyu brought for the occasion, with your parents having already retired for the night. You didn’t even tell him that your Mom wanted another taste of it, yet he delivered anyway. 
“How are you guys doing it?” Haneul whines, a bit red in the face since he’s already had a few beers before your cousins all left. “When my ex-girlfriend moved to another city, it only took two weeks for us to break up. Long distance is the bane of everyone’s existence.”
“Everyone but ours,” Mingyu says before clinking his glass with yours. “You just have to communicate with each other constantly. If you’re honest about everything both of you are feeling, then it’ll be easier to work things out together.”
It’s so easy for him to say these kinds of things. As if your relationship didn’t go to ruin because of the long distance that always kept the two of you apart. You feel a bit bad for having Mingyu lie to your brother right in his face, but you tell yourself that you’re already here anyway. 
You’ll just have to fake it until you make it.
“But what if the other party doesn’t want to talk about it?” Haneul sighs, tracing the rim of his own glass with his finger. “I wanted to make it work. I really did. But she… She didn’t even want to try anymore. Lost faith in us so quickly, I could hardly believe she even loved me.”
You know Haneul is just drunkenly rambling about his grievances with his ex. He called you about it a few years ago, long before you even met Mingyu, and you consoled him by saying that his ex-girlfriend never deserved his love in the first place.
But even if you know the circumstances that led to your split with Mingyu are completely different, you can’t help but find similarities between the stories. 
You broke up with Mingyu on the first day of spring. When the snow was just beginning to thaw, and the wind started to bring in a warmer climate. They’d just gone back from tour, and you know you’re not the only one feeling the tightly-wound strings of your relationship beginning to fray at the seams. 
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but I don’t think we’re going to work, Gyu,” you murmured, not having the guts to meet his eyes. “I think it’s best if we just focused on our careers.”
You thought he’d throw a fit. Or at least ask you a bunch of questions. Did he do something wrong? Is he not enough? Yet Mingyu simply flashed you a sad smile before nodding right back at you.
“Okay,” he said with a kind of resignation that breaks your heart to hear. “Thank you for being with me all this time.”
In the present, Mingyu shifts beside you on the table—abruptly startling you out of that impromptu trip down memory lane. 
“Then, you’ll just have to take it in stride, Haneul-ah,” he murmurs before throwing back the rest of his drink. Mingyu manages a tight-lipped smile that pains you to look at. “If you really love her, you’ll respect whatever choice she’s come to make in the end. Even if that choice doesn’t involve you anymore. Even if it hurts to see her walk away after everything you’ve built together.”
When Mingyu turns to look at you, you feel like there’s cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth.
“It’s a good thing I never have to experience that with your sister, though. She loves me too much to let me go.”
Haneul huffs from across the table before rising to his feet. “You two are so in love it’s actually disgusting. You know what, let’s just go to sleep.”
Half an hour later, you find yourself standing in the middle of your bedroom as Mingyu gets ready to sleep. He seems to be talking to someone on the phone inside your bathroom, but you purposely decide not to listen in. It was probably his manager or one of the other boys checking in on him.
You don’t wait for him to finish when you climb under the sheets, leaving enough space for him to occupy on the mattress, should he decide to share it with you tonight. There’s also an extra blanket folded on his side of the bed, since Mingyu’s a notorious blanket hogger, and you’d rather not wrestle that six-foot hunk of muscle for warmth. 
Mingyu takes so long on that phone call of his that by the time he finishes, you’re already fast asleep, curled up while facing the wall so you wouldn’t have to face him. He chuckles, lingering just a few seconds longer by the doorframe of the bathroom. How long has it been since he’s last seen your face under the peaceful guise of slumber? 
It’s been too long, and he isn’t about to pass up on the opportunity to commit the sight into memory.
Sometime in the middle of the night, you’re rudely roused by the sudden drop in temperature.
It’s only the beginning of autumn, but you noticed that it’s a lot colder than usual. Even if you already have a cozy blanket draped right on top of you. You sigh, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable before realizing that you’re not exactly alone. 
Much like yourself, Mingyu is blinking out the drowsiness in his eyes as he turns to look at you with a question in his sleepy gaze. You shake your head in a wordless attempt to tell him not to worry. 
“You’ve been tossing and turning for thirty minutes now,” he says, and hearing his throaty voice in person doesn’t even compare to that phone call you shared a week ago. “What’s wrong?”
You sigh. “It’s cold, and it isn’t even winter yet.”
He looks at you for a while, as if thinking of what to say before he reaches out for you and tugs you into his arms. Even if you’re practically half-asleep, the sudden action kickstarts your brain into motion, and you struggle against his grip all while whispering, “What the hell are you doing?!”
“You told me back then I’m as good as a furnace on cold days,” he mumbles as he tucks you into his chest—making you hyper aware of every ridge of his toned chest through his shirt. “If it bothers you so much, just think of it as a favor from one friend to another. How’s that sound?”
Friend. You know that’s all that Mingyu is to you these days, and all you are to him, but even in this drowsy haze you’re in, the word still feels like an insult. A word meant to scorn the time you’ve spent as lovers. 
Just thinking about Mingyu as a friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, so instead of answering him, you cave and burrow yourself into his warmth—something that he seems pleased with, if the satisfied sound that rumbles in his chest is anything to go by. 
He holds you in his arms the same way he did last Christmas, but there’s an unfamiliar sense of possessiveness sinking uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. You know you shouldn’t think of what he’s doing as anything but a favor between friends. You’re perfectly aware that, as the person who officially ended things between the both of you, you have no right to yearn for something you already gave up on.
But when Mingyu tilts your head up so you can meet his sleepy eyes, you don’t even put up a fight when he presses his lips to yours.
It doesn’t seem like he planned on doing anything beyond that. In fact, you don’t think he meant to do it at all. Just a heat-of-the-moment decision that the two of you could just forget about come morning. 
However, the moment he starts to pull away, you force a hand across the back of his head, crushing your lips back together as you hook one of your thighs across his hips. Mingyu groans into the kiss, large hands migrating to your waist as he reciprocates your newfound hunger like you knew he would. His touch leaves trails of fire tingling across your skin, and every time his canines graze your bottom lip, you quietly moan into his mouth.
This is stupid. You’re both being incredibly stupid. The walls are anything but soundproof, and your parents are sleeping just across the hall.
Yet you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Mingyu is making your body remember what it feels like to have him all over you like this.
You missed him. His heat. His touch. His kiss. Everything. You missed him so much that it hurts. You missed him so much that when Mingyu’s fingers start to glide along the exposed flesh of your thighs, you detach your lips from his before pushing him away.
You missed Kim Mingyu with the intensity of a dying star collapsing in on itself, of black holes tearing through reality, but this isn’t how you should go about it.
“Let’s…” you whisper, not quite trusting your voice to carry out your message. “Let’s just sleep.”
Mingyu doesn’t argue. He rarely does. But neither do you when he tugs you back in the caging embrace of his warmth. 
For the first time in weeks, you find yourself drifting off into undisturbed slumber.
The next morning, you’re set to go back to Seoul, and by some stroke of luck, so is Mingyu. Still, the two of you decide to stick around until lunch time—neither of you breathing a word about what just happened last night.
But while Mingyu starts to load both of your things into the trunk of his car, your mother asks you for a favor at the last minute.
“Can you bring Namja along with you back to the city?” she asks. “He’s been really listless before you and Mingyu arrived. Your father and I were starting to get worried, and figured you might have to do a check up first.”
You raise an eyebrow at her claim, not really noticing anything amiss about your retriever’s health, aside from the usual signs of age. He’s ten years old, turning eleven this year, so it isn’t such a mystery to see that Namja isn’t as hyperactive as he was as a puppy. But then again, your mother has spot-on intuition about all the strangest things, so you indulge her request in the end. 
Besides, having a pet of your own to keep you company doesn’t sound so bad.
Fortunately, Mingyu is more than hospitable when you ask if you could bring Namja along for the ride—promising that he’s car-trained, and won’t make a mess as long as you pull over from time to time. In fact, your ex seems more elated with the idea of your goldie joining the road trip than you are.
“I can come visit Namja in Seoul whenever I want now, right?” he asks with a soft laugh, and you wanted to reply with, Yeah, if you aren’t always so far away, that is, but choose not to. 
The two of you take shifts in driving as usual. Whoever isn’t behind the wheel is in charge of entertaining Namja in the backseat so he wouldn’t end up whining for attention the whole drive back. It’s a setup that you’re pretty okay with, since it minimizes any sort of window for you and Mingyu to have a conversation. God knows you’re not exactly ready to talk about…whatever happened last night. 
So instead, you ask him about a bunch of trivial things so he doesn’t get any ideas.
“You sure your manager is okay with you returning the car while it reeks of Namja?” you laugh before switching lanes on the freeway. “He might not take the news that he sheds very lightly.” 
Mingyu chuckles before scratching behind Namja’s ears. “I promised I’d have it cleaned before I returned it to the office building. Don’t worry about it.”
“Hm. Whatever you say.”
By your third stop-over, you decide to give Namja some food and water while Mingyu gets takeout for the both of you at a nearby fast food chain. You stretch out your limbs while your retriever happily laps from his water bowl, wondering how much longer it’s going to take before you reach Seoul. 
Before you have to part ways with Mingyu again.
You’re startled out of your train of thought when you see Mingyu practically sprinting back to the car, his sunglasses nearly falling off the bridge of his nose. Namja glances up at him quizzically, and you have to stifle a laugh.
“Yeah, a bunch of fans spotted me in line, so we might have to get food back in the city instead,” he explains hurriedly as he helps tidy up Namja’s food and water bowls. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
After his meal, Namja is sated and sleepy—content with resting his head on your thigh as you watch the streetlights blur past the windows. Mingyu is a much faster driver than you are, so he’s able to cut the travel time shorter than it would have been had it been you behind the wheel. But the lack of anything to do has you quietly staring at Mingyu from the backseat while his eyes are glued to the road.
You can’t help but let your gaze linger on his strong arms, and the fact that you were tucked safely between them the night prior. But that’s your first mistake because now, you’re thinking about those desperate kisses you shared in the privacy of your room. Touching each other like you both feared the other would disappear if you didn’t pull them close enough.
You shake your head. No. This isn’t how friends should think about each other. 
Whatever happened back in Haenam, you’re just going to have to leave it there.
It’s already past eight in the evening when Mingyu eases the car into your neighborhood, and you try not to think much of the fact that he still knows where you live. 
“Guess that concludes our weekend getaway,” Mingyu says the moment he finishes helping you carry your stuff back inside your apartment. “Though it seems that someone’s getting pretty cozy really quickly.”
Namja is already familiarizing himself with his new home, wandering around the living room all while sniffing everything in his path. You stifle a soft laugh.
“Yeah. I guess it is,” you murmur before managing a kind smile. “Thanks for having my back, Mingyu. It…means a lot. Really, it does.”
He laughs softly, eyes trailing around the living room with a curiosity that isn’t so different from Namja’s. “You have your first boyfriend with you now. I can rest easy knowing you’re in good company.”
Your face flushes at the thought that Mingyu still remembers the reasoning behind Namja’s namesake. Namjachingu. When he was still a puppy, you said Namja was your first boyfriend, and that you didn’t need anyone else. 
He lived up to his title for years, too—always acting hostile around past boyfriends that you did end up bringing to your parents’ house despite coming from a friendly breed. The only boyfriend that your first boyfriend seemed to approve of is the man standing right in front of you, just when you thought you would never see him again within the four corners of your house.
“You know,” Mingyu begins, hesitation crossing his face for a split second before he meets your eyes. “My family’s in Seoul for Chuseok, too. I told Minseo to bring Bobpul and Baptori, and you might want to schedule a little playdate between my kids and yours.” 
You raise an eyebrow. “Where’s Aji?”
“Too old to travel around,” he chuckles. “But I’m sure the other two can keep Namja company just fine. Join us tomorrow for dinner. What do you say?” 
You hesitate. This should’ve been where you drew the line. Mingyu has already helped you out of your initial predicament. You really shouldn’t create any more problems for yourself by joining his family for a late Chuseok dinner. In fact…
“What, you haven’t told your family that we split either?” you ask, half-jokingly, half-seriously.
“No, they know.” Mingyu shakes his head. “But they’ve always liked you too, so I see no harm in getting everyone to hang out in one place.”
You shoot him a pointed look. “You know this is just going to make things more complicated, right?”
When he flashes you that toothy grin, you already know that this is a losing battle. 
“It does, but it’s still going to be fun,” he says. “So, are you coming?” 
Sometimes, you wish you never met Mingyu at all. Maybe your life wouldn’t be so fucking difficult.
“Fine.”
The next day, you bring Namja to the clinic, and Chae is more than happy to see the brand new addition to the workforce. But while she’s giving your goldie more pets than he probably deserves, you ask if you have any clients coming this morning that called in advance.
“Oh, there’s this one guy who’s bringing in a maltese today,” she says, laughing a little when Namja whines at the fact that her attention is divided. “I think his name was… Seungkwan? Something like that. He has some records from last year, but he hasn’t been back since.”
Seungkwan’s coming today? Huh. Talk about coincidence.
You tell Chae about how Seungkwan and Mingyu belong to the same group, and your receptionist is adept enough to catch on to what you’re trying to say. She’s all too quick to suggest plans on how to mitigate the fans from flocking the entrance to the clinic, like that one time when Mingyu was too lax in disguising himself from anyone who could recognize him. 
But when Seungkwan arrives at your door, you remember that he’s one of the members that doesn’t particularly like being crowded by people, even if they are his fans.
He’s dressed discreetly—dark shades, a beanie, and a black face mask—while carrying an adorable pet carrier that’s probably worth half your monthly salary. Seungkwan is so straight-to-the-point with carrying out his business with you, that it’s hard to believe you and him used to joke around like old friends a year ago. 
But for some reason, when Chae excuses herself to answer a phone call, the façade he puts up falls apart in seconds.
“Noona, you have no idea how much I missed you!” he wails before throwing his arms around you. “Other vets just don’t cut it for Bookkeu! They’re always either too mean or too lax with her. You handled her just right today. Can’t believe Mingyu-hyung always calls you her worst enemy.”
You chuckle before patting his back, and Seungkwan pulls away with a pout on his face. “Hey, you guys are the ones who ghosted me after Mingyu and I broke up. You’re always welcome to come back to have your pets checked—non-showbiz girlfriend or not.” 
“That hyung of mine is stupid,” Seungkwan scoffs as he scoops Bookkeu into his arms. “Well, you’re kind of the same way, but I can’t exactly call you stupid or you might take it out on Bookkeu—”
“I would do no such thing, Seungkwan-ah,” you complain. 
“Okay, it’s just my personal opinion that maybe you two didn’t have to split up at all,” he huffs. “Mingyu-hyung has become more and more listless since you broke up with him. He might look like his usual self on camera, but when we’re not recording anything? He’s always so lost in thought! It gets on Coups-hyung’s nerves sometimes.”
Listless, huh… 
Your mother said the exact same thing about Namja. Speaking of, your gaze drifts over to your goldie who’s staring outside the door to your clinic, like he’s waiting for Chae to come back and shower him with attention again. 
Is Seungkwan insinuating that he and Mingyu aren’t so different?
“Maybe he’s just going through a blue period,” you suggest before writing up a prescription for the vitamins that Bookkeu will have to take for the next two weeks. “It’s been so long since we broke up. I doubt he’s acting that way because of me.”
Seungkwan breathes in deeply, like he’s just barely able to contain the urge to slap some sense into you. “Noona, listen to me. Kim Mingyu is catastrophically in love with you. When you called that night when we were sharing a hotel room in New York, it was the first time I saw him look so genuinely happy for reasons that aren’t related to our music. But that hyung of mine is too selfless for his own good.”
You startle a bit when he suddenly lifts Bookkeu closer to you and points her adorable face in your line of sight. 
“He wants you back, but he’ll never admit it, especially when you made your choice clear all those months ago,” Seungkwan says before pushing his maltese even closer to you. “But now, something tells me that you’re still hung up on him, just as much as he’s hung up on you—if all the things he told me about your trip to Haenam are true, that is.”
Huh. That time he took so long in the bathroom… He must’ve been talking to Seungkwan.
“Okay, but why does it feel like you’re using Bookkeu to threaten me into doing something?” You laugh softly. “Seungkwan, our time is up. And it’s not something we can just take back whenever we feel like it.”
“Wh—! Don’t you think things are only that way because both of you are making it more complicated than it should be?” He sighs, exasperated. “Also, yes I am using Bookkeu to threaten you. Promise that you’ll at least talk to Mingyu-hyung about this? We can’t stand seeing him so out of it anymore. Come on, you can’t resist those cute puppy eyes, right?”
You sigh, half-considering pointing out that Bookkeu is, by no means, a puppy anymore, but then again, you still call Namja that despite being more than a decade old.
“Alright, alright,” you relent. “I’m meeting his family tonight for dinner anyways. Might as well clear the air.”
Seungkwan gasps, a comical expression rooting itself on his face. “See! You’re having dinner with his family, too?! If you’re not back together by the time we fly back to the U.S., I'm never talking to either of you ever again.”
Now, it’s your turn to pout. “Who are you going to go to for Bookkeu’s check-ups then?”
He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again before letting out a petulant huff. You can’t help the snicker that bubbles in your chest as Seungkwan tilts his chin up with indignance. 
“Point taken,” he says before narrowing his eyes and pointing his index finger at you. “But I’m expecting Kim Mingyu to come back to the dorms later, happy and not heartbroken. Okay?” 
You raise your hands before handing him your written prescription. “No promises.”
When Chae returns inside the clinic, you physically have to hold Namja down just so she can give Seungkwan a receipt for today’s visit. Your mother was right, he definitely was growing lonely back in Haenam. You haven’t seen him this excited in years. 
Seungkwan bids you another, more formal goodbye, now that you're not alone anymore. He doesn’t need to reiterate what he asked of you out loud—the look in his eyes is already telling enough. 
Given that today is a bit of a slow day, you decide to run a few diagnostic tests on Namja just to confirm whether or not he’s silently carrying some sort of disease. But all his results came out normal, except for a clinically insignificant but still noticeable increase in his body sodium levels. Might have to cut down the treats for a few days. 
Otherwise, he’s happy and healthy ten—going eleven—years into his lifespan. The reason for his lethargy back home must have something to do with innate loneliness after all.
Then you remember what Seungkwan told you about Mingyu. How he hasn’t really been himself since the breakup. You never really felt that during your time together in your hometown. He’s still the effortless charmer that you once fell in love with. The big softie that can get along with anyone and everyone, given the right circumstances.
Mingyu has always been a people pleaser. The last thing he wants to do is inconvenience others. So it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s been so out of it that even Seungcheol is starting to get pissed with his behavior. 
The sound of Namja barking jolts you out of your thoughts before your goldie pads over to where you’re seated behind your desk, whining as he nuzzles your hands as if he knows you’re thinking a bit too hard about something distressful. You let out a quiet laugh, scratching behind his ears just like you know he likes.
“I wonder what I’m supposed to do,” you chuckle. “Maybe I should’ve been born as a dog instead. Thinking about all of this is giving me a headache.”
Namja growls before barking again. Like he doesn’t approve of the idea of not having you as his fur parent. You let out another laugh that’s a lot less quiet before you decide to pull out your phone and shoot Mingyu a text.
Are you picking me up later or not?
Dinner with Mingyu’s family is splendid
The outdoor restaurant his mother booked in advance probably serves the best songpyeon you’ve ever tasted in your life. Add that to the fact that they accommodate pets in their alfresco area, this could easily be one of the next places you’ll take your own parents for a meal when you bring them to Seoul for a quick getaway. 
Namja is a bit shy around other animals—a result of being around no one but your family for so long. But when Minseo introduces him to both Bobpul and Baptori at the same time, the two little rascals easily coaxed your senior citizen goldie out of his shell. Next thing you know, they’re running around the outdoor dining area like a bunch of energetic pups.
“Unnie, are you back together with this guy?” Minseo asks in the middle of dessert, pointing her spoon accusingly at Mingyu. “You can do so much better than him, though.”
Their father laughs at their youngest’s comment, and their mother rubs Mingyu’s back as if she agrees, yet still wishes to console her son regardless. Mingyu is simply scowling at his family for how quick they are to throw him under the bus.
“Shut up, you sound just like Seungkwan,” he whines. 
“Well, we’re both right.”
You let out a laugh of your own before scooping some ice cream into your mouth. Then, tentatively, you say, “Don’t say that. Gyu wasn’t that terrible of a boyfriend, you know?” 
“He’s always so busy though. Doesn’t even have time to come visit Bobpul and our other dogs anymore,” Minseo sulks. “He even missed my graduation! Can you believe it?”
Mingyu pouts. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” 
She huffs. “Not sorry enough!”
“Well, for starters, even if he is ridiculously busy, he still makes sure to call me before he goes to bed after a particularly tough schedule,” you say. “He also answers my calls even if our time zones are different, and it’s an ungodly hour where he currently is. Then when he finally comes back to Korea, he’ll give a bunch of gifts that reminded him of me on his trip overseas.”
You don’t know what compelled you to do so, but the words just gush out naturally. It was a little difficult the first time Mingyu had to hop on a plane to some other country to film some content with the boys, but you eventually got used to it, and managed to make a couple work-arounds.
Now that you think about it, if you were so used to it, why’d you decide it was best for you to part ways when he got back from tour? It’s been so long that you don’t even know the logic behind the reasoning anymore. You just remember feeling like it was the best decision at the time. And you were right—your careers have definitely thrived even after the breakup.
As you continue telling Minseo and their parents about how much of a catch the eldest son of the Kim family really is, you fail to notice the way Mingyu’s eyes never leave you the entire time. Soft, with just a hint of yearning that you’ll only be able to notice if you knew what you were looking for. 
“Ugh, fine,” Minseo huffs, and you don’t think she and Seungkwan are all that different from each other. “This is the first time I’ve seen a couple that’s broken up months ago talk about each other so fondly, still. You sure you two aren’t secretly dating again?”
“Minseo,” their mother scolds before flashing you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about her. Minseo’s just been really snappy lately. Must be because she missed Mingyu here very much.”
She rolls her eyes. “As if I’ll miss that credit-grabbing punk. He didn’t even acknowledge me in his latest Instagram post!”
“Speaking of dating again,” their father interjects before taking a sip of his wine. “Minseo’s right about one thing at least. You and Mingyu still have chemistry after so long. What’s stopping you from getting back together again?”
At your side, Mingyu flashes his father a cautionary look. “Dad, that’s a really inappropriate question, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes, of course. My apologies. This old man is really just…curious, so to speak.” 
He bows his head slightly, and you make a little gesture that insists you took no offense. But the inquiry definitely made you think for a moment.
It’s like everyone you know completely supports the idea of you and Mingyu just burying the hatchet and rekindling your relationship. But didn’t they consider the logistics of it? You’re a full-time vet and Mingyu’s a full-time idol that travels out of Korea at least once a month. Though you’re a bit unsure of it now, that still played a part in why you called it quits in the first place.
Even when Mingyu took it upon himself to drive you and Namja back to your apartment, his father’s question still lingers in the back of your mind. 
What’s stopping you from getting back together again? 
The answer is pretty simple, but it’s not something you’re ready to face just yet.
It’s you. You’re the only one keeping yourselves from reigniting what you once thought was already lost. Your guilt. Your regrets. Your fears. You didn’t need a verbal confirmation to know that Mingyu would drop everything in a heartbeat if it meant you’ll take him back again. But as much as your friends joke about how you deserve better than Mingyu, you’re convinced it’s the other way around.
Mingyu deserves someone who can reciprocate the love he’s so willing to give tenfold. Someone who doesn’t flake out when he needs them most. 
Someone who isn’t you.
When he pulls over a red light, he lets out a sigh as he checks the text messages that popped up on his phone. After a few scrolls he says, “Oh. Jeonghan-hyung texted about some party in Gangnam. Do you want to—”
“Gyu,” you whisper, eyes riveted on the busy street. “What are we doing?”
He blinks. “Celebrating Chuseok together?”
“But we’re friends right?” You laugh somewhat bitterly. “Friends don’t normally celebrate the entirety of their Chuseok weekend bonding with each other’s families. Friends don’t make out with each other in the middle of the night. And…”
You let out a shuddering sigh before adding, “Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at me.”
You can clearly hear the sound of his breath hitching even if you don’t turn to look at him. It seems like he was about to say something in return, but the stoplight turns green, and he’s back to pulling his focus on the road instead of you.
In the backseat, you can hear Namja whining—ever the empath, that one. You immediately feel him pawing against your seat, as if silently asking what’s wrong. Turning around, you give him a few reassuring pats, not wanting to get claw marks all over Mingyu’s borrowed car.
The two of you are completely silent as he walks you back to the front door of your apartment. You know he didn’t have to, yet he did anyway. How Mingyu of him.
When you finally muster the courage to look up at him and bid him good night, Mingyu grabs your wrist—forcing you to meet his desperate gaze. 
“If I told you I wanted you back, would anything change? No, right?” he whispers, voice tinged with so much emotion, you can feel your own heart ache at the sound of it. “So I’m sorry if I’m being selfish for inviting you to every place I could think of. If I want to spend as much time with you as I can because I know I won’t ever get the chance to do so if I let this pass.”
When he presses your foreheads together, the look in his eyes is so smoldering, you can’t bear to look away. This is what a man that’s been yearning for you for months looks like, it seems. 
And you don’t think you can keep resisting him for long.
“Before I get thrown back into that haywire of a schedule again,” he whispers, and you feel every breath fan across your skin, “can’t you at least let me have this? Let me have you?” 
You don’t even know who it is that lunges in for the kiss. The next thing you know, Mingyu has you pressed up against your front door, devouring your lips where all your neighbors can see. But you don’t care. Not when he’s desperately holding your body flush against his as you reclaim what’s always been yours.
He whispers a bunch of things along the column of your neck as he loosens the strings holding your dress together from behind. Some sweet, some endearing, and others a touch too filthy for others to hear aloud. You stifle your little gasps when he wraps a strong arm around your waist, nudging your thighs apart with his knees so you can feel the hardness straining against his middle.
“It’s you,” he murmurs against your feverish skin, teeth grazing across your flesh ever-so lightly. “It’s always been you. And it will always be you.” 
You know Mingyu is a good actor. But it’s so earth-shatteringly different to hear the raw desperation in his voice. How earnest he is in telling you just how much he still loves you without saying the words outright. You can only dream of being as honest with your true feelings as he is. 
But tonight, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting yourself fall.
In the midst of your mounting desire for each other, though, a lone whine in the night snaps both you and Mingyu out of your newfound vigor. You nearly forgot about Namja, who’s impatiently waiting for either of you to open the front door so he can finally take a nap. You glance at Mingyu, and he glances right back, before the two of you burst out laughing like a couple of teenagers without a care in the world.
Once you’ve gotten your needy retriever settled outside, Mingyu practically tosses you on the bed the moment the door to your room clicks shut—all too eager to cage you between his arms as he continues where you left off. 
The suit he wore tonight looked a bit too good on his frame, but now you want nothing more than to claw it off him. He chuckles, sensing your desperation as he shrugs off his coat and unbuttons his dress shirt along the way.
“I don’t remember you being this desperate for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning down to grasp your face as he strokes your heated skin with his thumb. “I can’t say I hate the development though.”
“Mingyu,” you whimper as you guide his thumb to your lips, suckling on it in a way that you know makes him lose his mind every time. “Please. I want you.” 
It’s so easy to be honest with yourself. You wonder why you’ve struggled with doing that for so long, but then you remember that your brain is fogged with desire for the man that’s currently staring you down like he’s doing everything in his power not to fuck you into the mattress right away. 
But at that moment, you throw all logic and caution in the wind in exchange for taking even more of Mingyu’s thick fingers into your mouth.
“So good for me,” he whispers when he sees you inch your knees apart to welcome him in between. The hand that’s not being fellated by your tongue finds its way to the apex of your thighs—cupping your clothed heat in a way that makes you moan around his fingers. “How badly do you want me, sweet thing?”
“So, so badly,” you manage to wrench out despite your mouth being full, rutting your hips to introduce some friction between your aching pussy and his hand. “Please, Gyu…”
When he’s satisfied, his free hand migrates to your thighs, spreading you further apart as he brings his lubricated fingers to your sopping core. There’s something so fucking hot in the way he just nudges your panties to the side—groaning when he finds you already soaked for him. 
“You need something to stretch out this pretty little pussy, don’t you?” he murmurs into your ear, nipping at the lobe just the way you like it. “You want my fingers or my cock, babygirl? Better choose wisely.”
You want to say that you’re too fucking horny for foreplay, but also remember that each time you had sex with Mingyu in the past, the stretch of his massive cock can be quite uncomfortable if he doesn’t prep you. With how long it’s been since you’ve laid in bed together, you don’t want to rush into it without thinking of the consequences after.
So, you mewl, “Fingers first. Then your cock.”
Mingyu laughs—a deep, sexy sound—before planting a kiss on your nose. “That’s my girl.”
He carefully eases one digit into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he gauges your reactions. Part of you wishes to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry so much. That you still trust him with your own body even after all this time. You don’t say anything aloud, but Mingyu seems to get the gist from the look in your eyes either way, surging forward so he can press his lips back onto yours as he loosens you up.
“You’re always so quick to get wet for me, baby,” he sighs, stifling the noise that escapes you when he slides in a second finger to test the resistance of your walls. “You’ve no idea how much I missed this. Missed you .”
“Gyu, I—” Your breath hitches once he curls his fingers just so, making your legs rise involuntarily off the mattress, but Mingyu pins one of your thighs down with his free hand. 
“What was that?”
He’s teasing. He rarely ever does that. You shoot him a petulant look before taking his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging hard enough to coax a groan out of him. 
“I missed you, too,” you whisper. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good.”
A dozen emotions flit through Mingyu’s face in the span of a millisecond, but the one that remains is something not so different from longing. You hear him sigh a couple of words that you don’t quite catch before he’s taking his fingers out of your sopping cunt and pulling away from you. Just when you’re about to voice out a complaint, he starts undoing his trousers, kicking them away to some uncharted part of your bedroom before working on the rest of his dress shirt.
Not-so-newsflash: your ex-boyfriend is still fucking hot. 
But he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re reacting to the sultry way in which he peels his clothes off—dark eyes still trained on your pliant form on the bed. As Mingyu palms himself through his boxers, you can’t help but press your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. 
There was a time when he railed you so good, you legitimately couldn’t walk straight the next day. You wonder if he plans on reenacting the whole thing tonight.
“Let’s get you out of that dress, sweetheart,” he breathes before gently guiding you back into a seated position, tugging at the hem of your dress before tossing it to the side. 
You feel your cheeks warm when he stares at the underwear set you have on tonight. Plain cotton panties and plain cotton bra. In your defense, you really didn’t expect to get laid tonight. 
“Doesn’t matter,” Mingyu chuckles. It’s either he can read minds or he still knows you well enough to figure out what you’re thinking. “I’m taking everything off anyways.”
As he makes quick work of what’s left of your clothing, you distantly remember the last conversation you had with Seungkwan. How you told him you’d ‘clear the air’ with Mingyu right after having dinner with his family.
You’re pretty sure what you’re doing right now is only blurring the lines even more, but you don’t really fucking care right now.
You let out a hushed moan when Mingyu latches his mouth onto your nipple, massaging your other breast as he swirls the appendage across your sensitive skin. His free arm snakes itself behind the curve of your waist, pressing you against his firm body while rutting his hips against the bed. 
He’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, and it fills you with a heady sort of hunger that only Mingyu can alleviate.
“Can I?” he whispers.
You feel his teeth graze across the skin of your chest, making your toes curl with anticipation. It’s been a while, but you can’t easily forget how much of a biter Mingyu is in bed. He loves leaving his marks on your body, and even if you always complain about how hard it is to cover them up, you let him do as he pleases every single time.
“Yes,” you whimper, rubbing your bare pussy against the ridge of his abs. “Do whatever you want with me, Gyu.”
The sound you let out once he finally bites down is caught between a yelp and a moan, your fingers threading across his hair as he suckles on your skin. He’s such a talker in bed, too—whispering all sorts of endearments that are too soft for you to hear, but add fuel to your growing desire regardless.
“So fucking pretty,” he says once he detaches himself from your breasts and marvels at his own work. The fruit of his effort is yet to become visible, but he’s left enough angry red marks on your skin to guarantee the lovebites they’ll turn into come morning. “And it’s all for me.”
Lacing your fingers around his nape, you mold your lips together in another kiss, tongues dancing to the rhythm of your erratic heartbeat as you grind yourself against his toned stomach. 
“Mingyu,” you whimper against his mouth—hot and heavy. “I need you inside me. Need to get stretched on your cock.”
He groans again, fisting your hair so that he can kiss you even deeper. As he busies you with his mind-numbing kisses, Mingyu gets rid of his boxers in a flash—positioning himself between your thighs. You nearly cry out when you feel the fat head of his cock sliding against your soaking slit. When he grazes your sensitive clit, you could’ve sworn tears started together in the corners of your eyes.
“Fuck, babygirl, so fucking wet for me,” he sighs as he lays you back down on the bed and eases your knees further apart. 
You bite your lip at the sight of his cock, still as long and girthy as you remember. Mingyu pumps his length all while sliding the head across your cunt, but you let out another desperate mewl to just fuck you already. 
“Shhh,” he says, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Let me take my time with you, sweetheart. I want you to commit all of this to memory. Gonna have you feeling me inside you for days.”
And you don’t doubt that. Kim Mingyu has a knack for making it hard for people to forget about him, and if he plans to fuck the shape of his cock into your pussy, who are you to complain?
When you feel his cock catch across your entrance, you genuinely wonder if it’s going to hurt. Mingyu’s attempt at foreplay was cut halfway through because he got distracted by his sudden desire to leave a trail of love bites all over your breasts. But the thing about having sex with Mingyu is that your comfort is his top priority. 
He would never do anything that he knows can hurt you.
“I’ll go slow, alright?” he whispers, and all you can manage is a nod. “Words, baby. You have to talk to me so I’ll know if you really want it.”
“Gyu,” you whine, arching your hips in a feeble attempt to get him to fuck into you. “I’m alright. Anything you do is alright with me, just— Please. Please fuck me full.”
He sighs, staring down like he doesn’t know what to do with you before finally, finally, you feel his dick breach your entrance—pushing inch by delicious inch inside you with restrained hunger. You fist the sheets at the familiar stretch, but it’s not so uncomfortable that the sensation burns. You’ve taken Mingyu’s cock dozens of times before, and it seems that your body still knows how to accommodate his ridiculous size.
“Pretty pussy’s happy to see me again,” he chuckles, his grip on your thighs tightening ever-so slightly. “Still made to fit me so snuggly. Did you miss my cock, sweet thing? I can feel you pulsing around me.”
“Yes,” you drawl. “Missed your cock so fucking much, Gyu. Fuck—”
You feel so hot, so full. It’s like Mingyu’s the only thing you’ve ever known—surrounding you in every direction until all that floats in your lust-addled mind are the letters of his name. Once he buries himself to the hilt, Mingyu doesn’t move right away, still so attentive to your reactions that even if you want nothing more than for him to rail you into the mattress, he won’t press forward until he’s sure you’re ready.
“Is it too much?” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Do you need more time to get used to me?”
Something similar to a growl reverberates in your chest as you stare at Mingyu hard. “What I need is…for you to fuck me until I black out.”
Mingyu’s lips turn up into a grin as he shakes his head. “Baby, the last thing I want to be is some sex-deprived savage after we’ve been apart for so long. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Then, he leans forward on the bed again, bringing his lips right next to your ear.
“But I can still make you feel good.”
He prefaces the words with a powerful thrust that you don’t expect, splaying your thighs further until they’re flat against the mattress. The slide of his cock still feels so unbelievably good that even if the sudden stretch should’ve been uncomfortable, you’re too blindsided by the pleasure to notice. 
Your eyes trail across the beautiful man above you as he fucks you in his favorite position. Mingyu has always had a thing for missionary—something about wanting to see your face as he wrecks you. You think you’re starting to share the same sentiment because not only do you get to see his fat cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt, but you can admire all of him at once, as well.
The exertion in those toned arms with every forward thrust. The conspicuous outline of his pecs. That toned fucking stomach. That gorgeous fucking face, so lost in the velvet heat of your pussy—
Why did you ever think letting someone like this go was a good idea?
“You’re going to laugh at me for this but,” Mingyu breathes, chuckling to himself. “I think I’m kinda close.” 
You do laugh, but it’s quickly silenced when one of his fingers finds your clit, rubbing it in quick, precise circles like he hasn’t forgotten how to get you off after all this time.
“I am, too,” you tell him. “Cock so fucking good, you can make me come in minutes.”
Mingyu lets out another guttural noise as he presses your knees to your chest, throwing your legs over his shoulder with a look in his eyes that promises nothing but pleasure. Though his fingers have departed your puffy clit, the angle he has you bent in has his cock easily grazing your g-spot with every thrust—reducing you into a pathetic, mewling mess underneath him.
“Your pussy’s a fucking drug, babygirl,” he sighs. “Haven’t wanted anyone else after you.”
Even in your cock-drunk haze, those words bring forth some semblance of clarity within you. But it’s immediately snuffed out when Mingyu amps up the cadence of his thrusts, fucking into you with the intention of bringing you to completion at the same time he achieves it. Your eyes are screwed shut, fingers finding purchase across the ripping muscles of his back as you babble an incoherent mantra of yes, yes, so close, so fucking close, love how you fuck me, love how you make me feel full—
And then, it’s over—a white hot flash like stars bursting behind your eyelids. You curl into Mingyu’s embrace as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, and he’s all too glad to help you ride it out, pistoning inside your spasming walls with a rhythm that’s starting to stagger. 
“So goddamn tight,” he growls. “Where do you want my cum, sweetheart?”
You’re still too blissed out to give him a proper response, but from the way your legs tighten themselves around his waist, Mingyu figures that that’s the green light he needs to make a mess out of you. Mingyu sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck before biting down—his cock twitching in the heat of your cunt as his release gushes into you in thick globs.
He comes so much that when Mingyu does pull out of your abused pussy, his essence trickles out of your hole as you do your best to catch your breath. The world is just starting to return to its normal axis in your vision, and the first thing that your eyes focus on is the sight of Mingyu smiling at you so fondly, it makes your heart hurt.
The look scares you. Like he’s about to say something that you don’t know how to respond to. 
So instead of giving him any leeway for conversation, you tug him back down into a tongue-filled kiss, rubbing your ruined pussy across his still hard length as you mewl against his lips.
“More,” you whimper. “I need more, Gyu.”
And he’s all too happy to oblige.
Mingyu slides himself back inside you with an ease that wasn’t present earlier—your mixed arousal acting as a good enough lubricant to accommodate him. His erratic breathing as he fucks his cum deeper inside you only serves to turn you on even more, making another orgasm creep ever-so slightly beneath your skin. 
“Babygirl can’t get enough of this cock, can you?” he sighs. “Seems to me like your pussy never wants me to leave.”
“Yes!” you hiss, moving your hips in time with his as you desperately claw at his back. “Love your cock so much, please—”
“Come for me again, sweet thing, I know you can do it.”
It’s unbelievable how a few choice words can get your body to submit to his whims without much thought. Unlike your first orgasm, the second one that Mingyu coaxes out of you singes through every functional nerve-ending in your body—sending you into a flurry of overstimulation that has you twitching under his touch. 
Just when you thought Mingyu’s finally done with you, however, he suddenly flips you onto your stomach—pressing your chest against the mattress while your ass is high in the air. The sudden change in positions makes your head spin, but you’re too dazed to protest.
When you glance over your shoulder, he’s showing you that same smile you fell in love with a lifetime ago.
“You can give me a few more orgasms, right, baby?” 
When he slides his still hard cock along your swollen cunt, you groan into the sheets—having momentarily forgotten that Mingyu’s stamina can go until morning. If you don’t stop him now, he might actually fuck you until you black out, despite his earlier refutal.
But honestly? You’re not against the idea. Not one bit.
When you wake up the following day, it’s to cold sheets and the startling clarity of Mingyu’s absence.
You never minded living alone. You’ve been doing it since your first year of college here in Seoul. You’re used to waking up with nothing but the silence of your room to keep you company.
Even when you eventually got together with Mingyu, lonely mornings have always been a staple, especially on days where he has early schedules. It fills you with a sinking feeling to see that he isn’t with you, but you’ve learned to take it in stride. 
Besides…it’s not like you’re together anymore now.
This is what you wanted, right? For him to not treat…whatever this is as if it’s a relationship thing. The two of you were just heavily pent up, and caved into your mutual desires last night. There’s nothing more to it.
However, when you pad outside the bedroom after shrugging on a flimsy oversized shirt, the scent of pancakes and frying eggs fills your nose. When you see Namja sitting right next to a tall figure hunched over your stove, you can hardly believe your eyes.
He doesn’t notice you right away—too preoccupied with making the perfect breakfast to pick up on your presence. Namja, however, is more perceptive, glancing behind and perking up at the sight of you. He lets out an excited bark before skidding over to where you’re standing, and you crouch down to the floor so you can give him a tight hug.
“Oh, you’re awake!”
Mingyu faces you with a smile that’s nearly blinding in the morning light, a spatula in one hand and a kitchen mitt in the other. It’s the exact same scene that you’re greeted with during lazy weekends where he doesn’t have any work to do, and your chest twists yet again at the memory.
“Yeah, I am.” You smile, rubbing Namja’s belly when he sprawls himself on the floor. “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have to go back to New York tonight?”
“Yes, but it’s still morning,” he points out, and you roll your eyes.
A few minutes later, Mingyu starts to set the table while you wash your hands. He tells you about how Seungkwan doesn’t want to room with him anymore over breakfast because Mingyu takes so long to close the lights when he’s binging a new drama. You tell him to be more considerate of his roommates or they might just dropkick him off the hotel room balcony in his sleep.
When you help him put away the dishes, the sight is so…domestic, it gives you whiplash. Bumping shoulders, splashing water, stifling mutual laughter... Being with him like this, tucked in your own little pocket of happiness makes your heart soar in ways that not even mind-blowing sex can help you attain.
You pray that Mingyu doesn’t breathe a word about it, but of course things don’t always go your way.
Just when you’re about to turn around to give Namja her morning fix of dog food, you find yourself trapped between the sink and Mingyu’s arms—unable to escape the fondness in his eyes even if you tried.
“I think,” he whispers, “we can still make this work. You and me.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “Gyu…”
You think so, too. With someone as understanding and compassionate as Mingyu, you know nothing’s impossible if you just quit being so stubborn. You were so afraid of him attempting to bring your relationship back to life last night, but…
Seeing him bathing under the sunlight in your kitchen after months of getting used to being alone again… 
Maybe it isn’t so bad to let him back inside your heart.
“O-Of course, you don’t have to answer right away,” he says, turning red in the face. Cute. “You can tell me when I get back from New York. How’s that sound?”
You’re about to open your mouth to respond, but the moment is quickly shattered by the sound of Mingyu’s phone going off. He sighs, releasing you from the figurative cage of his arms as he leans against the sink right next to you—fishing his phone from his pocket before answering it in loudspeaker.
“Kim Mingyu, where the hell are you?!”
“Good morning to you, too, Seungkwan-ah,” he chuckles. “Why? What’s wrong? I told Jeonghan-hyung I won’t be coming back to the dorms until noon.”
“Well, Jeonghan-hyung must’ve forgotten to tell everyone else because the entire dorm panicked when we realized you didn’t make it home!” the younger man squawks. “We thought something bad happened! You weren’t answering your phone last night either!” 
You and Mingyu exchanged knowing looks, and you have to stifle your laughter if you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Seungkwan’s rage, too.
“Sorry about that, I was a little…busy,” Mingyu supplies. 
“Well, whatever you’ve been ‘busy’ with, you better get your ass back here! Manager-hyung is looking for the car you borrowed, and if you don’t bring it back soon, he’s going to give all of us an earful.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll be back in thirty. Bye, Seungkwan.”
“Hey—!” 
Mingyu ends the call with little remorse before letting out a long sigh. When his eyes dart back to yours, they flicker momentarily to your lips before he leans forward. You meet him halfway this time, pressing your mouths together in a firm kiss.
“I’ll be back,” he murmurs. “I hope you’ll still be willing to accommodate me when I do.”
Though it pains you, he peels himself away from your touch, leaning down to kiss Namja’s head as he gathers his coat in his arms. It just occurred to you that he’s been eating breakfast with you donned with the outfit he wore last night while you’re dressed in nothing but a loose, oversized shirt. The knowledge makes you blush a little.
When you hear Mingyu’s car drive away, you sigh, running your hands through your messy hair. Namja pads over to you, tail wagging as he anticipates another round of petting. Of course you indulge him.
“Kim Mingyu is such an idiot, isn’t he?” you tell your goldie, and you like to think the small huff he lets out means he’s agreeing with you. “Why wait until he comes back when I already have an answer for him?”
This time, Namja actually barks out loud, making you shake your head with a laugh.
You don’t mind waiting for Mingyu, really. He obviously doesn’t mind waiting for you. At this point, you’re at peace with the fact that you might still love him. Maybe, you never stopped loving him at all. Once he lands back in Korea and comes home to you, you promise yourself that you’ll definitely show him.
Again and again.
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this is part of the doting on you! series.
8K notes · View notes
headkiss · 1 year
Text
not just on christmas
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve’s parents are coming home for the holidays and he’s in need of a fake date. who better than you, his best friend?
word count: 8.2k
warnings: steve’s parents (derogatory), negative comments about his job, fake dating, friends to lovers, christmas themes, fluff, first kiss!
a/n: i had lots of fun with this one and i hope u guys like it!!! merry christmas and happy holidays i hope they treat u all well <33 consider this my gift to you :D
The phone ringing forces Steve out of bed. Floors cool on his feet, the air a chill on his bare chest, he rubs his eyes lazily and picks it up.
“Hello?” He clears his throat to get rid of the sleep in his voice.
“Steve, why do you sound tired, it’s nearly noon!”
It’s no surprise that the first words aren’t asking him how he is. He’s shocked she cared enough to pick up on the tone of his voice at all. “Hi, mom.”
He doesn’t even know where she’s calling from, doesn’t know what business trip they're on. He can’t remember the last time he got a phone call that wasn’t you, or Robin, or Dustin, or anyone else other than his parents.
Steve’s not even excited to be hearing from them, because it’s a reminder that they’re not around, that they haven’t forgotten about him, they just don’t care.
He wishes you were the one that called.
“Listen, sweetie, your dad and I are coming home for Christmas this year, isn’t that great?”
He deflates, “yeah. Super.”
“There’s a business event he wants to take you to. And we’ll find you a date,” there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. “You can make some connections, maybe get out of your job at that video store soon.”
The thing is, he actually likes working at Family Video, but he knows that doesn’t matter. Then there’s the topic of the girlfriend, or lack thereof. His parents are always nagging him about when he’ll settle down, grow roots, or something.
Maybe that’s why he says, “I can get my own date. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh! That’s fantastic! She’ll have dinner with us, won’t she? What’s her name?”
Like an idiot, he says your name. The first one that came to his mind.
You’re his best friend, and it’s easy to let his thoughts drift to you. The problem is, he has no idea how he’s going to explain this to you, how he can ask you to fake date him just to satisfy his parents for once.
If he wasn’t still on the phone, Steve would be groaning into a pillow right now.
“Okay, sweetie, your dad has a brunch we have to get to. We’ll see you soon!”
“Bye, mom. See you.”
He hangs up and sighs in relief. That feeling is quick to fade when he remembers that he had just named you his girlfriend in the midst of his phone call. He drops his face into his hands, runs them through his hair, and tries to figure out how the hell to bring up the subject with you.
To go along with that, he has to worry about his parents coming home. Though, can they really call it ‘home’ when they’ve been gone for so long? When they’ll leave again after a few days, a week at most?
Most people would be happy, excited, about their parents being around for the holidays. Steve’s not. He’d rather spend it how he has since the two of you became friends. Breakfast at your house with your family—who have become family for Steve, too—presents opened with scented candles burning and Christmas albums spun on the record player.
You went out of your way to include him, and he’s never felt so welcome in his life as he does when he’s with you.
At least, if you agree, you’ll be with him this year, too.
-
It’s the next day when Steve decides to bring it up. You’re at his house for movie night, which has become a weekly ritual for the two of you. He’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say since he hung up the damn phone. He’s given up and instead hopes it’ll come to him in the moment.
Today, Steve’s quiet, which is unlike him. You know something’s on his mind and you try to avoid asking him about it, trying to let him talk about it on his own time. It’s about halfway through the movie that you change your mind.
He didn’t complain when you showed up with your cheesy Christmas movie choice, he didn’t light-heartedly tease you about your outfit of choice (some festive patterned pajama pants and a sweater that’s so worn there are holes in the neckline), and the most unusual, he didn’t make a single joke or comment as the movie played.
He’s really, really quiet.
You pick up the remote and pause it, “what’s going on with you, Steve?”
He looks at you, catches your eye and sees nothing but genuine concern. Sometimes he hates the way you know him so well. He can never hide anything from you.
“What? Nothing.”
You blink at him, “come on.”
“Fine, okay. Just, don’t say anything until I’m done, please.”
“Okay,” you pretend to zip your mouth shut, ready to listen.
“My mom called yesterday and told me they’re coming home for Christmas, and that there’s this business thing they want me to go to, and that I need a date for it,” he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And you know how they’re always on my ass about me being single and stuff so I kind of told her I already had a girlfriend, and maybe I told her that girlfriend is you.”
What?
There’s a lot to process there. Mostly the fact that out of all of the names he could have chosen, he said yours. You wait for him to explain some more, but he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for a reply, so, your mouth is now unzipped.
“So, what exactly does that mean?”
He mutters a curse under his breath. “Um, so, I need you to pretend to be my actual girlfriend while they’re here.”
His use of the word ‘need’ is telling. Steve’s not one to ask for help, not even when he needs it the most but here he is, nervous and a little pink-cheeked, asking for your help.
You let the thought sit in your head for a bit. It’s not hard for you to want to agree. Steve’s your best friend, and you’d do pretty much anything for him. Though, that might also have to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with him for years.
You know more about his relationship with his parents then most do, so if you can make their visit more bearable for him in any way, why wouldn’t you?
“Okay,” you say.
“Okay? Like, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m happy to help.”
That was a lot easier than Steve thought it’d be. You barely even questioned him before agreeing, and that’s not lost on him.
“Thank you so much, seriously,” he throws his arm over your shoulders, squeezes you to him in a side hug. “It’s only a few days, then we can go back to normal.”
“Easy peasy,” you say, reaching for the remote and hitting play.
Aside from your wanting to help him, to be there for him like you know he would for you, you’re also curious to see what it’s like to be with Steve that way, even if it’s fake. It’s hopeless, the way you love him, like the moon orbiting the earth around and around. Constant.
Sure, those feelings will probably only swell because of the fake relationship, but you’ve been housing them for long enough anyway.
What could go wrong?
-
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Robin says from the other side of a clothing rack, sifting through the pieces.
She’s the first, and only, person you told about the fake dating thing. Naturally, she decided she’d help you shop for a dress to wear to this business thing and talk about it at the same time.
The mall is decorated, garlands and lights strung, a big Christmas tree lit up in the middle of it all.
“It’s only a couple of days. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m talking about you being in love with him,” she deadpans.
“Robin, not so loud.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
You know she’s being honest, and though the thought has been at the back of your mind, a whisper, you’d like to believe that you can handle a fake relationship without ruining things because of your big, big feelings.
“I spend time with him alone a bunch. It’s not that much different, okay?”
“Besides the fact that you’ll be calling him boyfriend and acting like it, too, you mean.”
Actually, you’ve been trying not to think about what exactly pretending to be his girlfriend entails. You don’t know if he’ll hold your hand, if he’ll hold you closer than he has before, if he’ll kiss you. You think it might be better to wait and see, to not let the possibilities eat at you.
“I know it sounds bad, but it’s Steve. Nothing major will happen. We’re friends and I’m helping him out.”
Robin’s in a tricky spot. She knows how you feel about Steve, obviously, and though he doesn’t see it yet himself, she knows that Steve feels the same, too. It’s taken a lot to hold herself back from speeding things along, and as much as she wishes this fake relationship plan might be a good push, things usually aren’t so easy.
She can also tell that there’s a lot you’re thinking but not saying, but instead of pushing it, she returns to looking at the dresses. It’s not long before she gasps, pulling one of the rack to show you.
“This one,” she says.
“I don’t know. That won’t look good on me.”
It’s pretty, though. You’ll give her that.
“Shut up, everything looks good on you. Will you at least try it on?” She wiggles the hanger in her hand, “for me?”
“Fine.”
You take it from her, walking back towards the fitting rooms with a grinning Robin in tow. She waits outside the door while you change into the dress.
Once it’s on, looking in the mirror, you don’t even know what to think. You’re not one to feel all that confident in what you wear, or in how you look, but this dress makes you feel pretty. Maybe you should make Robin pick out all of your clothes.
“Let me see!” Robin calls.
You step out of the changeroom, doing a shy little spin when she asks. She’s smiling proudly, like she knows she chose well (which she did). She can’t help but think of how Steve will react, because she knows he feels something for you, she can see it on his face everytime he talks about you. He’s just a dork and he doesn’t realize it. Not yet, at least.
“What do you think?” You ask.
“If Steve’s not already in love with you…”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
If she does, your brain will conjure up way too many ideas of what could possibly happen. If Steve could really feel the same. If maybe he’ll feel those same butterflies in his stomach that you do, if his heart feels bigger when you’re around. In your dreams, he does.
“I’m trying to tell you you look hot!”
-
December twenty-third is the day that Steve’s parents come home as well as the night of the business event. You and Steve have tried to figure out how to act like a couple, quizzing each other on things you already know, setting loose boundaries, but you figure after knowing each other for so long, being so close, it won’t feel much different than now. Besides the extra touching, the possibility of kissing.
You’re already at his house when his parents get home, your makeup and outfit for tonight sitting in Steve’s room. The two of you linger near the front door waiting for their arrival, a nervous and jittery welcoming committee.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway grabs your attention. It’s a clapperboard snapping shut, marking the scene. Action.
“You ready, babe?” He holds out his arm for you to grab, and you do.
“Time to be the best couple ever,” you reply.
Steve grins at you. He has no idea how to thank you for agreeing to do this, how to even explain to you the relief you’re sure to bring. It’s one less thing for his parents to pick and pry at.
The door opens, and you can already feel a change in Steve’s demeanor. He’s standing straighter, stiffer. You squeeze his arm, a reminder that you’re there.
“Steve, sweetie!” His mother barely greets him before moving onto you, “and this is your girlfriend?”
“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.”
If it were someone else’s mother, you’d be hit with the usual ‘oh please, call me (insert name here).’ However, where the Harringtons are concerned, formality is a must. Besides Steve, of course. From what you know, the apple had fallen very, very far from the tree and you mean that as a compliment.
Even after being friends for so many years, this is the first time you’re actually meeting Steve’s parents. It’s clear that he’s never jumped at the opportunity to have his friends around when they’re home. He’s told you about them, and that’s enough for you.
“Steve! Come help me with the bags, would you?” His dad calls from outside, though he says it as a demand rather than a question.
“Yep, coming,” he replies. He kisses the side of your head before going outside, quick and sure, like he’s done it hundreds of times.
“How was your trip, Mrs. Harrington?” You fill the silence.
“Oh, just lovely, thank you,” she moves to the kitchen, expecting you to follow. “The house looks clean. Do you have something to do with that?”
Despite her trying to sound like she’s joking, you know that she truly doesn’t believe that Steve could be the one keeping the place going. As if he hasn’t been doing just that for ages.
“No, no. It’s really Steve.”
Her eyebrows raise, surprised.
Steve and his father walk in before anything else is said—thank God. You shake hands with Mr. Harrington, saying hello and wearing a tight smile. Steve’s quick to come to your side, an arm over your shoulders like a shield. Your hand moves to hold the one resting on your shoulder.
He’s even more tense when his father’s in the room, you’ve noticed. You hold his hand a bit tighter. You wish you could do something to make him feel better, and you hope that this fake relationship will do that at least a little bit.
Meanwhile Steve’s wondering how your presence could make him feel much better than he usually does with his parents around. You’re a comfort beside him, and when he gets the chance, he kisses your head again, whispering a ‘thank you’ into your hair.
-
The first few hours with Steve’s parents go by dreadfully slow, even with his touch on you most of the time. You’re quickly learning that as a boyfriend—even fake—Steve’s love language is easily physical touch. He has an arm around you, a hand in yours, on your leg, anything.
You’re also learning just how strained his relationship with his parents is. He’d trusted you enough to tell you most of it, but seeing them interact in front of you was different. The backhanded comments, the faces whenever he mentions his job, it makes your heart ache for him.
It’s bad enough that his parents are hardly ever around, but having them act like this when they are? You’re amazed at how good Steve has remained through it all.
When it’s time to get ready for the business party, you’re thankful for the reprieve.
“Think we’re doing a good job?” You ask Steve as he shuts the door to his room.
“They seem to be buying it. Thanks again for doing this.”
“You’ve thanked me like a hundred times, Steve. It’s okay, really.”
You want to tell him that you’re sorry these are the people he has to call family. That he shouldn’t listen to any of the shit they give him about his job or his lack of post-secondary education. That he’s the best boy you’ve ever known.
The problem is, you don’t know how to say all of that without making your feelings for him painfully obvious.
“Just gotta keep it up ‘til Christmas. That’s when they leave.”
“They’re only here for two days?” You knew the trip was going to be short, but forty-eight hours?
“Yeah, something about getting a deal on a cruise. I don’t know.”
He says it so casually, like it’s normal. You guess that for him, it is, but it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.
“Does that mean you’ll come to mine for Christmas day? Like usual?” You ask, hopefully lightening the mood.
“If you’ll have me.”
“Shut up, you’re always welcome. Think my mom likes you more than me anyway,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, then move to bring your stuff into his bathroom to start getting ready.
He leans on the doorframe, watching you set your makeup out on the counter, “she does not.”
“Steve, you have your own stocking hanging on our fireplace. And it’s bigger than mine.”
He smiles genuinely then, the first one since his parents have arrived.
He leaves you to get ready, shutting the bathroom door for when you change. You can still hear him through the door. The opening and closing of his drawers, a curse when he stubs his toe.
So far, pretending to be with Steve has been easy. You’ve acted the same save for the touches or small pecks he’s decided to keep placing on your head or your cheeks. The story you settled on was simple: you met him picking up a movie at Family Video, he asked if you needed company to watch it, the rest is history, blah blah blah.
Steve knocks on the bathroom door when you’re pretty much ready, you glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before opening it.
He stands with his tie in hand, wearing a button up and dress pants. You assume there’s a suit jacket to go along with it, and you think it might kill you. He’s so pretty, and he looks it all of the time but seeing him dressed up is really something.
“You look good, Steve,” you say. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Thanks. You look- you too.”
Steve’s stunned. He realizes he’s never seen you in anything formal and it’s making him feel all fluttery in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s always known you’re gorgeous, in an obvious way like how the sky is blue. Now, though, it’s like he can feel it.
He clears his throat quietly and remembers the reason he knocked in the first place, “you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you?”
You’re thankful for the time you decided to learn how when you were bored one day. You take the fabric from his hands, “it’s your lucky day, Steve.”
“Thank you. Didn’t wanna have to go ask my dad.”
He’s almost shy about wanting your help over something so small, his cheeks a little pink, his head bent. You give him a reassuring smile—or what you hope is one—and place the tie around his neck.
His eyes are on you as your hands fiddle with the fabric, doing it up for him. Your eyebrows are slightly scrunched, and he wants to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. He’s not used to having that urge.
You finish up successfully after having fumbled a little bit, adjusting the tie so it isn’t crooked.
“There you go,” you pat his chest and he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat, the way it’s quicker than normal.
He has no idea what that’s about.
“Thanks.”
“‘Course.”
He’s still standing close to you, enough that he has to keep his head tilted downwards just a little to be able to look at your face. Your eyes lock onto his, and time seems to slow. You’re so gone for him and you know it, but it almost seems like maybe he’s feeling something too. Just for a moment.
His father calling out that it’s time to go snaps you out of it.
Steve grabs his jacket, shrugging it on then offering you his hand to hold, “let’s do this, girlfriend.”
-
The hall is oozing Christmas when you walk in, Steve’s hand in yours. Ornaments hang down from the ceiling, warm white string lights line the top of the walls, Christmas music hums through the speakers, and an extravagant Christmas tree sits in the middle of the room.
You’ve never been to an event like it, and you have a hard time keeping your nerves at bay.
Pretending in front of Steve’s parents alone was one thing. Now, the stakes are higher. You have to be convincing and though it’s not difficult for you to pretend to be in love with Steve (you don’t have to fake that at all), you worry that you’ll slip up somehow and give yourself away. Both in the sense that the relationship is fake, and that your feelings are anything but.
It’s not long before Steve’s father gets pulled into a conversation, and his mother goes along with him. You’re left standing near the doorway with Steve, biting at the inside of your cheek.
“Relax,” he leans his head close to yours and whispers.
“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“We’re fine. You’re fine,” he squeezes your hand, something that’s quickly become a wordless reassurance between you. “We’ve done good so far, right?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Except for the fact that I love you and that you being a really good fake boyfriend isn’t helping.
“Okay.”
He smiles and leads you further into the room. The smile he gives you is different from the one he gives the people that say hi to him, the people that stop him for a chat. For you, it’s honest. For them, it doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t mean anything.
“About time you tied someone down, Steve,” a man says to him. A coworker of his father’s, just like most men in the room.
“Think she’s the one who got me, but yeah.”
“That’s sweet. Next step is to get you a stable job, huh?”
It seems like all anyone here is concerned about is what people do, who they know. It’s no fun for you and they aren’t even speaking to you directly most of the time.
“Sure. Good to see you,” Steve excuses the both of you from the conversation.
“These people suck,” you say to him, leading him to the bar set up in a corner.
“Tell me about it.”
You order water for the both of you, something to get rid of the dryness in your throat and occupy you for a bit. You drink quietly before Steve speaks up.
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
He doesn’t know why it slips out now, but it does. The thought has been on his mind since he saw you standing there in his bathroom, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore.
“You don’t have to say that, Steve. Nobody’s listening.”
“I mean it, seriously.”
“Oh,” you look down at your glass, at the condensation running down the side. The corners of your mouth lift, “thank you.”
“I know this isn’t the most fun, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admits. He’s always been sweet to you, but this feels different. You don’t know how or why, but it does.
“I am too.”
Steve’s dad interrupts your moment, pulling Steve off to meet some people. Already, there’s a guard being put up by him, a shield he saves for his father.
For those few minutes, where it was just you and Steve, you realized that he’s probably the best date you’ve ever had. He pays attention to you, he’s comforting without even trying, and he compliments you with so much honesty you could melt.
He’s the best date you’ve ever had and it’s fake. It’s becoming a mantra repeated in your head; it’s not real, it’s not real.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice the boy who’s sat next to you now.
“I’ve never seen you before,” he says.
“I’m not usually at these things. I came with my boyfriend,” you tell him, unsettled by his stare.
“And where is this boyfriend now?”
“He’s out there. I just needed some water but he’ll come back soon.”
You’re trying to get him to go away, to take the hint. He won’t.
“Why don’t I keep you company in the meantime?”
You’re about to reply when someone else does it for you, “not necessary. She’s my girl.”
My girl. Steve. He stands behind you, wraps his arms around your waist. It’s like he knew you needed him then, showing up as soon as you felt like you wanted to search for him. He runs his hands over your sides, a possessive touch that has your skin tingling.
“My bad, man. Thought she was lying about the boyfriend,” the guy says.
“She wasn’t. Even if she was, maybe you should learn to tell when someone isn’t interested, yeah?”
The stranger nods and walks off.
You spin in Steve’s hold, facing him. “My hero.”
“You know me,” he shrugs.
What he doesn’t say is that seeing another guy talk to you made his gut churn, bringing something that he didn’t want to admit was jealousy. He also saw the look on your face, the discomfort, and felt his feet carry him over before his mind could think it first.
His hands are still on your waist, even with the stranger gone.
-
It’s not until Steve’s parents are ready that you leave. They’ve taken advantage of the champagne that sat on trays, free for the taking, as well as the opportunity to talk up their son to many, many people. It seems they’re only proud of him when there’s other people around, and even then, the praise doesn’t hold much weight.
He’s trying his best. At least he’s working. He’s got a girlfriend now. No, he doesn’t host backyard parties while we’re gone anymore.
You wish you could speak up, but you know, with this many people around, it’d cause more harm than good. It’s hard to listen to the people that raised Steve talk about him the way they do. You want so badly to shout in their faces how brilliant he is, no thanks to them. How he has the kindest soul and a sort of midas touch that makes everything shine.
At least, you think he does. You promise yourself to love him better than they ever did, even if it’s in secret.
One memory from the night overpowers the rest, luckily. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played, a slower rendition, and a slow dance ensued. You watched couples split off, and when you looked at Steve, he was already looking at you, a question on his face and a hand outstretched.
You fell into step with him quickly. It wasn’t awkward for a second. One of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, his on your waist. You swayed together, unknowingly moving closer until you were close enough to rest your head on his chest. And you did.
He rested his head atop of yours and hummed the song softly. You’ll dream about that dance, probably.
Now, you sit in the car with Steve, who’s become the driver. He drops his parents off at his house first, leaving the two of you alone for the drive to yours. He sneaks glances at you at stop signs and red lights, turning back to the road when he thinks he’s been caught.
His mind is full because he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. He sees parts of you that he was blind to before. The shape of your lips, for example. The dip of your spine and the way it feels to hold you. It’s dizzying and warm, confusing and sparkling all at once.
Once he’s pulled up to your house, he offers to walk you to the door. Ever the gentleman. A romantic no matter how much he denies it, you think. He gets misty-eyed when you watch rom-coms, opens doors for you, has bought flowers for nearly all of his dates, as far as you know.
What must it be like to receive flowers from Steve Harrington?
He faces you on your front porch, hands in his pockets, “thank you again for doing this.”
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay. I’m happy to help you, Steve. You’re my best friend.” Who I love more than anyone.
“You’re mine, too, honey.”
It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Turns out, it was his default to use in your fake relationship. It is, however, the first time he’s said it when it’s just the two of you. It sounds sweet coming from his lips, sticky. Just like honey itself.
“What time should I be over for dinner tomorrow?” You ask. It’s the last hurdle of the fake dating.
“How ‘bout I come pick you up after I finish work?”
“Yeah, okay, that’d be great, thanks.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold of December biting your skin.
“Here,” Steve notices, of course he does, and he reaches out with his hands, rubbing them up and down your arms to warm you.
“How’re your hands still warm?” You ask.
“I'm magic.”
You smile at that. He has no idea.
He reaches up with one hand to cup your cool cheek, and you nudge your face into his touch. For the warmth, you tell yourself. That’s it. His thumb runs over your skin, once, twice.
“Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty smile?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it. You don’t, though, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in your gut because of it.
“Shut up,” you try to mask your bashfulness.
Then, just like that, his face is close to yours. So close that it looks like he might kiss you. His eyes flick from your mouth up to yours, like he’s unsure of what’s happening while he’s doing it.
You can feel his breath tickling your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. Before that can happen, he’s swerving away quickly, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. The one he isn’t holding. His mouth lingers for a second.
“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin.
“Night,” you say, dazed. And he’s walking away.
Steve’s not at all sure what’s come over him. He wanted to kiss you just then, to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you stupid. What the fuck was happening to him?
When you let your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parted slightly, like you’d let him kiss you, like you wanted it, too, he panicked. Couldn't do it.
No, he doesn’t know what just happened, why it did, or why he’s resisting the urge to go back and knock on your door and actually kiss you when you open it. What he does know is that his heart seems to be doing something funny when you’re around, and that your fake relationship has been better than any of his real ones.
He knows he needs to talk to Robin about this.
-
Steve had to work the next morning—Christmas Eve—which he was actually thankful for. Thankful to get away from his parents, though the comments about his job followed him out the door this morning. Especially thankful because he needs to talk to Robin and sort out the mess of his feelings that has occurred in the last twenty four hours.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you. About how his stomach was all twisty when you slow danced with him. There are so many moments playing over in his memory. Not just from yesterday, either.
He remembers the way his stomach would sink when you’d tell him about a date you had or how he’d often reach out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, or to wipe something away from the corner of your mouth.
So many things over your friendship that he never thought about are coming back to him and he’s realized he doesn’t act that way with any of his other friends. Only you.
He also realizes that he hasn’t really been pretending with you at all.
“I think I love her,” Steve blurts out while he and Robin are organizing returns, the store luckily empty.
Robin reaches into her pocket, barely fazed, and tosses a handful of confetti at Steve. Some pieces stick to his hair, some to his clothes, most of it at his feet.
“What the hell?” He shakes the flecks out of his hair, “we have to clean that now.”
“I’ve been carrying around confetti for like a year waiting for this to happen!”
“Wait, what?”
“Steve, you’ve been loving her for a long time, hate to break it to you.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” He’s no longer preoccupied with the confetti.
“I was letting you do it on your own time. You’re welcome.”
Steve had only just deduced that he’s in love with you and yet, when he thinks about you, he feels the same way he has for years. He finds it hard to believe that he’s been blind to it for that long, but he has been called an idiot enough in his lifetime for it to make sense.
Then, there’s the fact that you’re not done fake dating yet, that there’s still dinner today to get through and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep himself together.
“What am I gonna do, Robin?”
“You’re gonna tell her how you feel and I will finally know peace.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I freak her out?”
“Steve, she looks at you like sun shines from your pores,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”
-
He picks you up after work as promised, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter, his greeting a little louder than normal. You figure he’s just nervous about dinner.
Nobody brings up the almost kiss, and you don’t plan to. Maybe you read things wrong. Maybe he was aiming for your cheek all along. Maybe he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.
It seems that your feelings for Steve are present now more than ever. Impossible to ignore. It might have something to do with the Christmas spirit floating around, the lightness of the holidays. It definitely has something to do with you being Steve’s fake girlfriend.
Because it turns out, he’s an excellent boyfriend, real or not.
He opens doors for you, even if he has to jog ahead of you to do it. He’s always got at least one hand on you, warm and sure. He looks at you with so much care, his brown eyes stuck on you.
It’s all adding up and you feel like your love for him is overflowing, pouring out of you before you can reel it in. You just hope he doesn’t notice that you’re not acting, that you never were.
Walking into Steve’s kitchen, you pause in the doorway, him behind you, “this smells great, Mrs. Harrington.”
Though Steve knows she probably bought most of the stuff and then put it in pots and pans to make it look like she cooked, he agrees, “so great, mom.”
She turns to look at you both from her spot by the stove, “thank you. Oh!” She cuts herself off with a gasp, her gaze drifting above your heads.
Oh no.
“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing.
“Look at that,” you laugh, short and awkward.
“Steve, sweetie, kiss your girlfriend for tradition's sake, won’t you.”
He kisses you on the cheek.
“A real one, son,” his father pipes up from his seat at the table.
Steve finds your gaze, his eyes wide and questioning. Are you okay with this? He’s asking without saying it. You nod, barely there, but you nod and he sees it.
He cups your cheek in his hand, flashes of last night on your porch come to you. He leans in slowly, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. Instead of doing that, you hold his wrist in your hand, squeeze it. Your silent communication.
In a blink, his lips are on yours. Pillowy and almost shy, but he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re floating, your feet off the ground and everything. He pulls away before you can even register the fact that it happened.
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your lips still burning with the memory of his.
Steve can't believe he hasn’t kissed you before. You’re soft and you fit together so well, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place. He’s kicking himself for not doing it last night, when you were alone, when it was real. Next time he kisses you, he thinks, it will be real.
He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, “so, let’s eat.”
Just like that, he’s moving to the table, pulling out a chair for you and kissing the top of your head once you’ve sat down. Already, the extra affection he’s been giving you has been dizzying. Now, it’s dialed way up.
He helps his mom serve the food before he sits down, though all he gets as a thank you is a pat on the cheek. Next to you, you can see Steve’s leg bouncing up and down. You reach out and place a hand above his knee, stilling him and drawing his gaze to yours.
You smile, and you hope it’s enough to say it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine. He rests his hand on top of yours, fingers laced together.
“So, Steve, have you been looking for jobs?” His father speaks up. The never-ending topic.
“No, dad. I have a job,” Steve doesn’t look up from his plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with his fork.
“Well, a real job, I mean.”
At Steve’s silence, his mom adds, “we just think, especially now that you have a girlfriend to support, you should look for something… better.”
You look up when she says it, eyes wide and hand tensing on Steve’s leg. You don’t understand how they care so much about what he does and so little about how he feels. He likes his job, you know that, and he’s tried to tell them multiple times over the past couple of days.
And still.
It’s impossible for you to sit by and listen to them talk to him the way they do, like he isn’t good enough. Like the only defining thing is his job, which isn’t even a bad one. What defines him is who he is as a person and he’s the best one in your life.
“Why does it matter so much?” You ask.
His parents look at you, surprised to be questioned, it seems. Steve looks at you, too, with something more like astonishment, appreciation.
“I’m sorry,” you continue, “it’s just, you haven’t seen your son in how long? And all you guys keep bringing up is his job, which he’s told you he actually enjoys. Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”
Steve’s world is tinting pink, heart-shaped lenses over his eyes hearing you defend him. Nobody’s ever tried to go against his parents for him, and here you are. Fuck, he loves you.
They’re quiet, and you’re not finished. “Steve is the greatest person I’ve ever met, and that’s no thanks to you. I’ve known him for a long time and not once have I seen you guys around. How can you judge him so much when you don’t even take the time to know him anymore?”
The room is dead quiet. Nothing but the clinking of forks against plates for the rest of the meal. You feel lighter, after saying what you did. Though you’re also terrified that you’ve overstepped, that Steve will be upset with you for causing a scene.
As if sensing your worry, he holds your hand just a bit tighter.
It’s not until after dinner, hidden away in his room, that you talk about what happened. Not the kiss; your outburst.
He shuts his door and you’re already apologizing, “listen, Steve. I'm so sorry if I made things worse, but I couldn’t just let them shit on your job anymore. I couldn’t. You’re my best friend, you know that, and-”
His arms are around you in a blink.
“Thank you,” he breathes into your hair. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. Thank you, honey.”
“Oh,” you blink away your surprise and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Anytime.”
“You’re really special.”
Your smile spreads, spilling before you can do anything about it. You hide your face in his neck and stay that way until he lets go, a flush in his cheeks and stars in his eyes.
Steve wanted to tell you he loves you right then, but the words seem stuck in his throat. They won’t come up. He wants to be with you for real, and though it happened in a rush, it also didn’t. His brain just needed to catch up to his heart.
He doesn’t say it, but he will. As soon as he can.
“Wanna go watch a movie?” You ask.
“Yeah, okay.”
Movie night. You and him. That’s real.
-
Steve’s parents seem to have gone out somewhere, the car missing from the driveway. They haven’t left, though. You and Steve checked for the suitcases (they’re sitting, already packed, in their room).
Playing the movie, yet another Christmas pick that Steve couldn’t say no to, you share a blanket. There’s plenty of room on the couch, you’re the only people there, and yet, Steve still tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you to lean against his side.
Maybe he’s just doing it in case his parents come home while you’re downstairs. That’s gotta be it.
“Is it bad that I’m sort of relieved they aren’t here right now?” Steve says to you, quiet.
“Not at all. You deserve better than what they give you, Steve.”
“You think so?”
“Are you kidding? I know so.”
He lets his head lean atop of yours, and that’s that.
You want to bring up the kiss, but then again, why would you? It’s not real. It’s not real no matter how much you wish it was, no matter how much it feels that way. You knew going into this that you might end up kissing Steve, you just didn’t know it’d fuck you up so much.
Part of you hopes that mistletoe will appear above your heads yet again, just to be able to feel the way you did when he kissed you. Heart fluttering, stomach twisting, warm all over.
Though Steve’s head feels relaxed, resting on yours, it’s overflowing with thoughts. You, his parents, the way you defended him, how it felt to kiss you, how much he wants to do it again. You. The entire length of the movie, he’s trying to think of a way to tell you he loves you. The best he comes up with is to wing it.
When the screen fades, and the film ends, you remember the gift you’d left in Steve’s room, buried at the bottom of your overnight bag (you decided to sleep over, something you’ve done too many times to count, and head to your place in the morning with Steve). You sit up, only to face him.
“I have something for you. C’mon,” you tug on his hand, leading him all the way to his own bedroom.
“What?”
“Just,” you make him sit down on his bed when you’re in the room, digging through your bag and finding the present you’d wrapped last night. “Here.”
He takes it from your hand slowly, like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t open it right away, staring at the red and green patterned wrapping paper and the gold stick-on bow sitting in the middle of it.
“Open it,” you urge, shuffling nervously on your feet.
He shoots you a shy smile before tearing at the paper, revealing a scrapbook of sorts. Flipping through the pages, he finds memories upon memories. Pictures of you and him, of him and Robin, all three of you. Some with the kids or with Eddie. Most of them he doesn’t even remember taking.
And it’s more than just pictures. There’s movie tickets and receipts from random fast food dinners, confetti from a surprise party for Dustin and a piece of a plate Steve broke once.
It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him. It reminds him that he does have a family, no blood relation needed.
“Honey,” he says it quietly, his eyes watering ever so slightly. “This is- I don’t even know what to say.”
“I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”
“No. I love it. It’s perfect, seriously,” he runs his finger over a picture of the two of you, your faces squished together and your smiles absolutely ridiculous. “Best gift ever.”
He means it.
“I had some help with the pictures. Everyone in that book loves you, Steve.”
Everyone in that book. That means you love him, too. He knows that you could mean it platonically, but something about the way you look at him when you say it makes him think that he has to tell you. He has to try.
He’s suddenly very glad he bought you a locket for Christmas, and that he left it unwrapped because of his lack of skills in that department.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Steve-”
“Please,” he trades spots with you, sitting you on the edge of his bed, “close your eyes for a minute, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you shut them tight, placing a hand over them as well, “double closed.”
He rushes to grab the locket from the bottom of one of his drawers, then grabs the tiniest bit of paper and manages to write as small as he can on it, placing the message in the necklace and closing it with a small click.
Steve reaches for the hand that isn’t covering your eyes, opening it up and placing the delicate piece of jewelry in it. “Okay, open.”
You do, glancing down to what rests in your palm. It’s gorgeous, dainty, and the corners of your mouth lift at the sight of it.
“It’s beautiful, Steve. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s a locket,” he says. His head is bent, shy and visibly nervous. “Open it, too.”
Your heartbeat picks up, like you know, subconsciously, that something big is hiding inside despite the small size of the necklace itself. You wedge your fingernail into the gap, pushing the locket open. The note inside makes your stomach drop.
In his messy, rushed writing, the words ‘I love you.’
You look at him, mouth agape and hopes way up. “Steve?”
“I mean it.”
“How-”
“I mean I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a really, really long time. I guess it took you being my fake girlfriend for me to realize it.”
“You’re not pranking me, are you?”
You’ve spent so long loving him, and convincing yourself that he could never love you the same, that it feels unreal. Hazy, like a dream.
He sits beside you, cupping your face in his hands softly to make you look at him, “I’m not pranking you. I love you.”
“Holy shit. I love you, too. For so long. I never thought I had a chance with you.”
“I think you’re the only person who’s had a real chance with me since I met you, honey.”
Right there, discarded wrapping paper on the floor, the glow of Christmas lights shining through the window, you doubt you’ll ever take that locket off once it’s on.
You can’t stop yourself from rushing forward and kissing him. A small press of your mouth against his at first, then, it’s more. It’s slow and every single thing you’ve ever wanted. His lips move with yours like they’re the only ones that know you.
This time, when you kiss, there’s no question. It’s real and it’s thawing every single worry you ever had about this. This is real, you get to think now.
Steve pulls away only when your breathing gets heavier, only when he absolutely has to. His thumb trails over your cheek, a lover’s touch. He takes the necklace from your hand, puts it on for you and kisses you again when he’s done.
“Do you think this was a Christmas miracle?” You say, teasing.
“I think this was just me being too stupid to notice how I feel about you. I know now, though.”
“Because you needed a fake girlfriend.”
“Because I needed a fake girlfriend,” he confirms. “But, I’d like a real one now.”
“I think I can manage that,” you nod, a lovesick smile on your face.
For once, Steve’s glad his parents came home. He never would have asked you to fake date him if they hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have realized his very real feelings for you, either. So, maybe it is a Christmas miracle, after all.
hey you! if you enjoyed please consider leaving a reblog, it would mean a lot and helps a ton more than you’d think! help support creators like me <3
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enkvyu · 8 months
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8:12am — gojo satoru ;
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your sneeze cuts off your sentence and you sigh, apologising into the phone. “sorry, i really don’t think i can carry out the mission.”
you can imagine yaga rubbing his temples on the other side of the line. “just worry about getting better. we can always have someone else fill your absence.”
“thanks, yaga. i’m really sorry for this.”
“don’t worry about it. take care.”
you end the call and sniffle, shoving your hand and phone deep into your pockets to try and conserve heat. the sniffle does little to clear your nose so you do it again, inhaling harder. by the end of it, your airways are no clearer than before.
a doorbell interrupts your suffering and you need to clamp your mouth shut to stop from groaning. dragging your feet behind you, you painfully walk over to your door. when you peer through the peephole, you’re met with a bright blue eyeball peeking through lifted black fabric.
“what the fuck.” you pull open the door. “gojo?”
your colleague stands on the other side, adorned in his typical work uniform with a white bag of something hanging off his arm. “you took so long to open the door i thought you might have died!”
“don’t sound too upset.” you roll your eyes.
gojo pauses and leans in, causing you to take a step back. his face falls into something you’ll call the equivalent to serious considering that you were talking about gojo, and he tilts his head to study you further. “is that a new makeup look? can’t say it flatters your features.”
you growl and it sounds sickly. “i’m not! i’m—” you shake your head as a migraine threatens your sanity. “doesn’t matter, what are you here for?”
“we work together! do i need a reason to come over and hang out?”
“at eight in the morning? yeah, you kind of do.”
“it almost sounds like you don’t want me here.”
“what gave it away?” you say, drily. of course, either gojo doesn’t get the nuance behind your words or he finds pleasure in testing you because he keeps bothering you with his presence.
“my feelings are hurt.” he sulks.
"i don't give a fuck about your feelings."
gojo's eyebrows shoot up. "wow, are you mad at me?"
you shake your head, sighing. “no, i'm not."
"right? after all, i haven't even done anything."
when he doesn't elaborate and the conversation dies, you ask, "was that everything?"
“why do you want me gone so fast? are you hiding something in there?”
you open your mouth to retort when a pulsing pain in your head cuts you off; the migraine was here. you groan, rubbing your temple as gojo’s voice zones in and out. “listen gojo, i am way too sick to banter with you right now. if it’s nothing important, can you talk to me another day?”
“you’re sick? how bad?”
you try to give him patience. “bad.”
gojo hums thoughtfully. “well it’s lucky for you that i’m super great at taking care of sick people.”
you stare at him. “you? really?”
“yeah! i’m incredible at it.”
you level with him a stare before slowly closing the door, intending to shut him out. his foot comes in a blur, holding it in place and you huff.
“you don’t believe me?” he says, looking the part of a wounded animal.
“if i say i do, will you leave me alone?”
gojo tuts, shaking his head. “this won’t do, we can’t have you believe in a false truth. i’m crazy good at taking care of people, i’ll prove it to you now!”
“no, that’s okay gojo, i don’t need your help— and you’re already inside. great.” the door closes behind you with a soft click as you stumble to your living room. “just stay out of the way, okay? and for god’s sake, keep quiet.”
"it'll be like i'm not even here. i promise."
"i don't believe in your promises." you grumble, stomping over to the bathroom. you notice, notice very clearly in fact, that the tall white-haired man follows after you. you stop at the entrance, looking back at him. "are you seriously following me to the bathroom?”
"i was going to stand guard outside!"
"i don't need you to. all i need is for you to leave." you hiss, entering the bathroom and slamming the door in his face. when you come out, he's still standing there, guarding.
you scrunch your nose up at him but leave anyway. he wasn't worth it, you remind yourself.
you make it to your next destination safely, thanks to your new and improved guard dog. checking out the fridge in your kitchen, you realise there was nothing to pop in the microwave and eat whilst wallowing in self-pity.
you do the next best thing and place a pot over your gas stove. bending over, you turn the small knob and watch as the blue flame arises. you let go of the knob, and the flame dies.
this was not something you needed right now but the emptiness of your stomach is all too prominent. so you try again, bending over and rotating the knob over the small fire symbol and watching as the stove flares up. carefully, you release the knob. the flame dies again.
“you okay?”
you grit your teeth into a smile. “yes, gojo. i think i might be better if you could stop looking over my shoulder.”
“the stove does not like you.” he ignores, side stepping to try himself. and because he’s so irritatingly perfect in every way, the blue flame rises and stays when he lets go.
gojo turns to you with a bright smile.
you sniffle and nod. “thank you.”
“what are you making?”
rummaging through your pantry, you remove a packet of instant noodles. the bright red icon on the packaging causes gojo to raise his eyebrow.
“super spicy?”
“i can’t feel anything in my nose right now. i’m thinking of flushing it out with something else.” you go to fill the pot with water but he stops you. “what?”
“you’re sick, you shouldn’t be eating something like that.”
“do you have a better idea?” you ask. “this is all i have in the house right now.”
gojo grins. he lets the white bag he was still holding onto slip down from his arm to his hand and he opens the two handles with enthusiasm. because it was so contagious, you can’t help but feel excited, peering into the bag.
you blanch. “is that medicine, creamed corn and one single egg?”
“yes!”
“that isn’t a meal either, gojo.” you think again, flickering your gaze up to his eyes. “but that’s sweet, thank you. i’ll take the pills after.”
you start to move around but he stops you with his arm. “didn’t i say i was here to take care of you? i’ve got this, just go over and relax on the couch.”
“the last thing i’ll be doing is relaxing if you’re in the kitchen.” your migraine disagrees so you eventually nod, shuffling away. casting one last glance, you point at him. “don’t start a fire.”
he gives you a cheerful wave and you stumble to your couch. you fall into its cushions and exhale, deeply.
time passes in a blur as your illness takes a hold of you, digging its finger into your brain and shaking it, displacing your cerebral spinal fluid. with your face deep within a pillow, you almost miss the scent of smoke.
almost.
you spring yourself up on your arms and dart back into the kitchen, almost running into a wall. coughing, you fan away a puff of smoke as you enter, finding the culprit wishing a tune and stirring something in a pot.
"gojo?" you choke.
gojo spins around and you find that he'd somehow pulled out the "kiss the chef" pink apron shoko gifted you on your birthday which you had immediately hid. it fits him terribly, straining to cover his torso. "you're up! why are you up?"
you cough again, stepping closer. "can't you see past that blindfold? you're starting a fire! i'm surpised my smoke alarm hasn't gone off!"
you reach over and turn the exhaust fan on, something he hadn't even done, and squint through the fog to look at what he was making.
"what is that?"
"it's soup! i heard soup is good for you when you're sick."
you look between the lump of black coal in the pot and gojo's smiling face. "soup has water in it."
"i know, i added that! it just all disappeared." gojo stirs the pot, and you're no longer sure what exactly, he was stirring. "i even added the pills you wanted to take so it'll be easier."
you wordlessly reach down and turn off the gas stove.
he lets you. "thanks, i was just about to plate this."
gojo begins manoeuvring your kitchen with a familiarity you weren't sure how he obtained. he opens the overhead pantry and takes out a bowl, pulls out the utensils from its respective drawer, and uses your favourite spatula to transfer the black lump of something.
he places the bowl in front of you. "here you go."
you stare at it for so long, you start seeing black. eventually, you begin registering the item. "wait a minute, is this a cursed object? did you infuse your cursed energy into this?"
gojo has that stupid grin on his face, the one that he uses when he knows he's in the right. "it is! this should make you better in no time. i used to give this to megumi all the time when he was sick."
"but it looks so..."
gojo digs through his pockets, pulling something out and hiding it in his fist. he holds it out to you. "if you're good and eat it, i'll give you this."
"what is it?"
"it's a secret." gojo says. "c'mon, be a good girl and take your medicine."
you huff, pulling your gaze away from his hand and towards the black lump. it looks edible, maybe if you squint at it, and it didn't seem all too big. you could probably get it down in two big bites. so with the determination of a seasoned warrior, you square your shoulders and break off a chunk, throwing it into your mouth.
your face immediately scrunches up as the taste hits you.
gojo coos at you from the side. "you're almost done."
you glare at him through tears, gulping the substance down when you're able to, and stuff the remaining bit into your mouth.
when it's travelling down your oesophagus, you thrust the bowl back into gojo's hands. "you better give me that thing in your hand."
gojo places his fist in your hands and opens it. a single candy stares up at you. "it's strawberry flavour, your favourite."
you murmur curses at him under your breath, something about him treating you like a child, but take the candy anyway. when you pop it in your mouth, the sweetness is almost enough to make you forget the taste of the cursed object. gojo's sweet smile fills in those absences as he gestures you to follow him.
perhaps the cursed object gets to you, or gojo’s presence has wormed its way into being comforting because you find yourself following.
"where are we going?" you ask as he leads you around your own home.
"to bed. the medicine will only work if your parasympathetic nervous system is working and considering who you are, you'll never know true relaxation if you're awake."
"hey." you sniffle indignantly. "i know how to have fun and experience leisure."
he hums but doesn't answer, leading you into your room. thinking that a nap would indeed do you good, you start to pull off the shirt you were wearing and wriggle out of your pants. perhaps the sickness had done more to you than you realised, because you forget gojo's presence, whipping your head to find him still standing at your door, his back to you.
"i didn't see anything." he says, immediately.
you grumble, throwing yourself into your bed and sliding under the covers. only then does gojo turn to you.
"you're really docile when you're sick."
"i'll put my foot in your mouth."
gojo laughs, turning around to head out when you call his name.
"are you leaving?"
he smiles, peering over his shoulder. "miss me already? i'll be back, i promise."
"i don't believe in your promises." you say again, but let him go, sleep taking over you. you slip in and out of consciousness as the fever reaches its peak, time slipping away from your knowledge.
every now and then, you hear footsteps, and the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. one time, you open your eyes and find gojo standing over you, a towel in his hands. "good morning."
you mumble out something that even you couldn't understand, and slip into another fever-induced sleep.
the next time you open your eyes, you're relatively more lucid. you sit up slightly and something wet falls off your forehead. you catch the towel in your hands.
gojo looks up from his spot in your chair, placed beside your bed. "you're up again. here, hand me that."
you wordlessly pass it over to him and he replenishes it in the basin he'd placed on your bedside table. you say without thinking, "maybe you really are good at taking care of sick people."
gojo grins, lightly pushing you to lay down again. "i told you so. you're alot less of a handful than megumi was."
the warmth of the towel soothes you and you close your eyes against the sensation. you hear gojo flicking through a book in his hands, and the sound of paper against fingers lolls you into another comfortable slumber. a nagging thought tickles the back of your mind and with effort, you peer up at him.
when you mumble something incoherent, gojo looks over at you. “what?”
“i said.” you lick your lips and try again. “what did you come here for? you never told me.”
he gives you a slight smile and reaches over, adjusting the towel. “you said you were sick. i wanted to check up on you.”
“but—”
“you can’t fall asleep if you keep talking.” he reprimands. “shall i sing you a lullaby so you can sleep quicker? megumi never lets me.”
even before you can reply, he starts beatboxing and you realised in your sick state that it was the intro to twinkle twinkle little star.
regardless, having gotten an answer, you close your eyes again and let the sleep drag you under. vaguely, you realise gojo must have arrived at your apartment immediately after you had informed yaga that you were sick, stopping only to grab the ingredients to his cursed object cure. you'd have to thank him when you wake up, if you remember.
with a soft exhale, you slip away, gojo's rendition of twinkle twinkle little star your escort.
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guess who is sick. guess who is sick studying anatomy. guess who is sick studying anatomy and with a gas stove that is out to get her. the answer may shock you!
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Note
Can you write a one shot with Daddy Pascal? They have an age gap of 20 years and she’s super nervous to go public with him cause she’s afraid that his fans won’t like her? And he comfort her
A/n: hell yes I can, and hopefully you'll like this. Also this gif is freaking hot.
Pairing: Pedro Daddy Pascal x reader
second part || Masterlist
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"It's not that easy."
"It is." Pedro stood closer to you. "I just want to be able to call you mine in public."
You sighed, gnawing on the peeling skin of your lips, something you do when nervous. "I.. I can't."
"What?"
"I can't, I'm sorry.. I just.. I can't. Not now."
Pedro couldn't believe his ears. Both of you have been together for two years, and this has been the one thing Pedro wanted. But he kept it a secret for you, because of the age gap, because he knew you weren't ready.
But now after two years.. you're still not ready.. so what now?
---
That conversation was a week ago. Pedro got pretty upset after that, wouldn't really call you when he's on break, wouldn't tell you if he's coming home, wouldn't call you pet names -- but you understood. Pedro was justifiably upset, but you didn't think it was a good idea to go public at the moment. And it's all because of-
Pedro shut the door with a soft thud and was surprised to see you lying on the couch on your phone.
"Hey. You're still awake?" He asked, though you're obviously still are.
"Yeah, I was just browsing social media." You gave him a little smile.
Pedro nodded and proceeded to go to your shared room. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes did not go unnoticed by you, and the way he was walking tells you he was probably from a nightclub.
It's not like you two had to report your location or schedule at all times, but usually going to a nightclub is something you tell your partner.
You shook your head, not wanting to overthink it, but your thoughts kept coming back to it, and so you followed him to the bedroom and asked him.
"Were you out clubbing?"
Pedro sighed and undressed, ready to go shower. "Yeah, it was a last minute thing with some coworkers. Sorry I forgot to tell you."
"'S okay." You offered another small smile.
Ignored. Pedro walked past you to the bathroom.
As he was showering, you wondered how you should talk to Pedro about going public. It's not like you didn't want to, but have you seen the amount of fans Pedro has?
The amount of people that call him daddy, that make edits of his movies, his interviews? The amount of people who love him?
And if they find out that he's dating someone who's about 20 years younger than he is, what would happen to him? Would he be accused of grooming? Would his fans understand?
You didn't realize how long you've been standing at the same spot until Pedro gently touched your back after his shower.
"Cariño, are you feeling okay?"
Cariño.
You looked at him and exhaled. "Can we talk?"
Pedro had a feeling he knew what you wanted to say. He sighed and sat on the bed, with only his damp towel hugging his waist.
"So, have you decided I'm too old for you?"
You frowned, "what?"
"Let me guess, it's been fun but you want to find someone who's closer to your age? Or is it because you realized this lifestyle isn't for you?"
You felt a little hurt. Did Pedro really think you're going to break up with him because of this? "Pedro, I'm not breaking up with you."
"Then what is it? I've been holding back mentioning your name during interviews when they ask me if I have someone I love, and yes, I do - It's you! I love you, so so much. I want to be able to bring you to places, show you off - I know it's probably a lot to ask, but cariño... I.." he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.
He was obviously frustrated, and this was mostly the aftermath of the alcohol talking. You sat next to him and held his hand.
"I'm scared." You admitted.
"Cariño-"
"Do you know how many videos of you are out there? Ones that your fans make, some even edit them from interviews from years ago. Or how many fanfictions there are of you? Or just the amount of fans you have that worship you day and night?"
You looked at him, worry in your eyes. "They all love you and look up to you so much, and so do I. I don't want to.. to ruin your life because we're going public. We have a huge age gap between us, that doesn't normally sit well with people."
"I also want to show everyone you're mine.. you know how ugly jealous I get when I see some of your costars flirting with you on the red carpet." You placed a hand on his cheek.
Pedro chuckled, leaning into your touch. "I guess I hadn't thought about that part.."
He pulled you closer to sit on his lap, his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. "But I still want to. If they're really my fans, they'll understand. And yes, our age gap is.. pretty big, but I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."
"You are.. mi amor, mi vida. And I'd do anything to be with you." He kissed you softly.
You ran your hands through his hair, and they rested on his neck. "Okay."
"Okay?" You could hear the excitement in his voice.
"Okay." You nodded, reassuring him.
He gave you the biggest grin he had as he hugged you and pulled you both to lay down on the bed, laughing while he was at it.
"Then it's decided. You're coming to the next red carpet with me. As mine."
----
A/n: my crush on this man is starting to feel dangerous.
second part
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blue-jisungs · 10 months
Note
Hii ⭐
Txt with an idol s/o
Can u write this? 😸
you’re an idol ♡
a/n. hello anon! sorry you had to wait for so long, i hope u like it though!! i kind of wanted to write it as well but you gave me the perfect opportunity hehe
you can also find enha version here!! :D
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┆彡 YEONJUN [ 연준 ]
oh boy
first of all (and everyone saw it coming)… he absolutely devours your group’s choreos
like okay you’re his gf blah blah but he still will outshine you in the tiktoks you’re making because of your comebacks 😔
and also?? he’s always the first person ever to film a tiktok challenge w u and vice versa…. like your song could be out for only one hour and there’s already a tiktok of u two dancing (nooo not suspicious at all wdym)
other than that he’s such a sweetheart :(
he knows when you’re recording in the studio and will always make sure to drop by and bring you snacks/drinks, even if your company is on the other side of the town
or when he can’t get there in person he’ll send an uber to you with some food with cute sticky notes attached (“fighting! <3”)
and oh boy dating him means that you have access to his closet *-*
so while your fans call you an fashion icon, yeonjun is rolling his eyes at the fact that those are literally his clothes (“i styled them though!” “but y/n–?!”)
takes u on cute lil days usually in the evening and you’re the one who takes his candid pics to post on instagram username yawnzzn 😄😄😄😄😄
and if you have private insta you post pics that he took of you as well ^_^ but if you have an official acc you just wait a bit with posting so the fans won’t be able to connect the dots too quickly
and and :( he’s so cute like!! “yeah there was (your fav group) comeback right?? and they were on inkigayo, right??” *casually whips out a signed album* “oh and also i got (your bias)’s phone number and i gave them yours, they told me they’ll call you!!! i said you’d love to meet up and maybe film a challenge?”
fainting rn
will get jealous tho if u keep blabbing abt your bias so please cover him in kisses n cuddle w him :)
┆彡 SOOBIN [ 수빈 ]
papa bunny is treating you like one of his members
he can be sweet sometimes too 🙄
but most of the time he’ll scold u if you’re not sleeping/eating/resting enough… and also if you’re skipping practices
he’ll snitch to your leader?? or manager??
like tf.
but he’s so so cute :(
if you happen to have comebacks in similar time, you always end up opening each other’s albums!!
or even if it’s for example you, you’ll watch him open all the versions of the albums
bc he’s a fanboy. and you know it he’ll be your fanboy too <3
however filming tiktoks w him when you have a challenge… yeah good luck.
but it only takes one “oh okay i’ll go ask yeonjun then–“ and he’s there shaking his ass
he’ll be grumpy later tho 🙄
(“how could u even think of asking him when i’m your boyfriend!!!!!”)
fans think you’re really really close friends (esp if you’re under hybe too) so they’re like
“oh look!! y/n attended txt’s concert!! their friendship is so so cute!!”
and then you’re making out backstage… yeah cute friendship indeed :)
also expect him to tear up if you’re tearing up on a stage or at home bc you’re so overwhelmed by your fans support :( he just can’t help it + he’s super proud of u
┆彡 BEOMGYU [ 범규 ]
cutie patootie on the highest levels :”)
just like soobin – he’s iu fanboy so ofc he’ll be yours too!!! will attend your concerts, have your light stick and pc collection
obv he’s acting like he doesn’t
in private you often sing each other’s songs
and he’d cover some of them on guitar ^_^
he’s constantly singing your songs underneath his breath
will even dance randomly, sometimes during to x do and the boys r like —.—
takes care of you….. you’re constantly on his mind, he’s so thoughtful
he’ll see one (1) bruise and right away inspect if you’re not going too hard on yourself <\\3
also gossips abt you with your band members 😑
and they send him pics of you when you’re not looking 😑😑
you both are trying your best to be careful abt your relationship but the fans are a little suspicious after you quite often… reference him or his lines
and he’s,,, well, himself and doesn’t really care
so sooner or later fans figure out lol!
but it’s not that bad actually <\\3
┆彡 TAEHYUN [ 태현 ]
realistically speaking he’ll be the smartest with your relationship like no way in hell people would figure out
but he’s so cute help i love him sm :(
he carries a key chain of your representative animal near his keys and just!!! <\\3
he’ll take such good care of you too like 🥹
he knows it all abt taking care of your vocals and body esp when you’re working hard
so he’s pops in to your studio with warm water with honey and straight on acts like it just? fell from the sky?
“idk what do you mean i did not prepare this and carry just for you?? you’re so delusional sometimes i just found it on the street 😑 but drink it all”
yeah sure 🥰
and kind of bullies you intro working out but in the end working out with him is fun so you don’t mind :D
not only your fans are falling in love w u more and more hehehe but also tae also takes care of you after a harsh work out session so…. <3
and he’ll never admit but he loves your songs!! often uses some of them as a warm up or just hums then when he’s alone
will know a lot of choreos of yours as well but he’d rather die than say it out loud
but when he’s with guys tho
(he thinks it’s not that noticeable but it so is)
also if your company sucks ass he will not hesitate to do something about it – whether i’m person, email them or even hire someone to act on it 😳
mans got money, okay? and balls too. and also huge huge love for you 😌 so he’ll do whatever it takes if your comfort is being threatened
┆彡 HUENING KAI [ 휴닝카이 ]
dispatch announced u as a couple and honestly this is the best outcome bc kai would have spilled it anyways
and needless to say you are like everyone’s fav :(
let’s be real, you two are cuties patooties so i’m not even surprised ^_^
fans set matching pfps of your pics :(
and kai is such a sweetheart he started collecting plushies of your representative animal and if you have a plushie (like bt21, skzoo) of you then he’ll just buy every single one that comes out + clothes :(
sleeps w them too :( esp when one of you is on a tour <\\3
oh and also on tours :( you’ll play on nintendos, animal crossing or something and leave notes for each other
or face time while you play and kai zones out sometimes bc he keeps staring at u and thinking how much he misses u instead of playing ☹️
you have the access card to each others companies (if you’re not in hybe) and the staff there is just 🧍‍♀️
loves you to death but is jealous how often you text and hang out with his sisters
esp if you film a tiktok with them first?? and then him?? offended (at least 20 kisses are needed to make him happy again)
carries your pcs everywhere!! wallet, phone case, attached to his bag in those cute little holders
supports u on the FULLEST ?!
sends trucks w coffees or snacks at your filming locations, attends your concerts, goes to events w you and promotes your songs on weverse :”)
[ masterlist <3 ]
taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang
2K notes · View notes
mellifiedprincess · 2 months
Text
GOT MY FIRST MATT REQUEST😝 this is angsty to fluff, so be warned. i got kind of carried away and don’t have anyone to proofread my writing so sorry if this actually sucks ass.
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“I’m gonna be working 16 hours again today, so I won’t be home until late.” You can feel the annoyance from your boyfriend before you even turn around. Matt absolutely hated when you worked long shifts like that, but he also knew you loved your job as a peds nurse. Still. He hated the hours. He hated how tired you were after work, all because you would pick up everyone else’s slack.
“Again? Baby-“ He stops himself, watching you pull the baby pink scrub top over your head. You can only laugh softly at his expression. “That’s the 3rd one this week.”
“I know, but I Lisa asked me to cover part of her shift. She’s always been super nice to me.”
That was one of the things Matt loved and hated about you, you were too nice. Always doing for others, never for yourself. And he worried you were gonna burn out.
He places his hands on your cheeks, placing a kiss to your slightly squished lips. “You’ve barely slept baby. You haven’t had anything to eat. You’re barely a person right now.”
“Matt, please don’t do this right now. I’m gonna be late.” You watch as he rolls his eyes, stepping away from you as you gather the rest of your things. “I know you’re just worried about me, but don’t be. I’m fine!”
“Just please text me and let me know you made it to the hospital okay, and let me know when you’re on the way home. Just so I know you didn’t fall asleep at the wheel.” He reaches out for you, and you greedily fall into his embrace. “I will. I love you, okay.” You place a soft kiss to his lips and smile sweetly. “I love you more baby.”
And with that you leave.
You kept your word of texting Matt and letting him know you made it to the hospital safely. Even sending him a cute little selfie of you blowing him a kiss.
But when he saw it was almost 45 minutes past the time you should have been home, he felt a pit of anxiety form in his stomach.
He immediately ended the game of fortnite he was playing, and grabbed his phone wasting no time in calling you.
No answer.
So he tried again. And again. And again.
No answer. So he calls the floor of the hospital you work on. Only for the nurse on the phone tell him, you left almost an hour ago.
Kid was shitting bricks he was so scared.
“Nick!” At the sound of Matt’s terrified voice, the older brother of the triplets rushes into his room. “What?” Nick asks as he watches a frantic Matt put his shoes on. “I need you and Chris to take the other car and help me look for Y/N.” This only confuses Nick more.
“Isn’t she at work? And we can’t drive without our-“ “She’s not answering her phone. She left work almost an hour ago. She should have been back by now!” Matt cuts Nick off, trying his best not to break down.
Next to his brothers, you were the most important person in Matt’s life. The thought of anything happening to you made his want to throw up.
“You need to breathe before you pass out. Y/N is fine Matt, she’s gonna be okay.” Nick rubs comforting circles on his back, trying his best to calm his younger brother down.
“Maybe she fell asleep in the parking lot.”
You were not in the hospital parking lot when Matt arrived, only making his anxiety worse. “She’s not here!” He tells his brothers who are on the phone with him as they drive around the city in search of you.
“Chris is gonna take me back home, in case she shows up, but he’s gonna keep looking.”
Matt was barely listening anymore, because as he turned to get back on the highway he sees your car. And when he looks closer, he sees you in it. Asleep.
“I just found her and I’m going to kill her, right after I tell her how much I love her.” “Is she okay?” Chris asks.
“She fell asleep in her car. She’s fine.” Matt hangs up after that. He was relieved to say the least, but so furious with your stupidity.
As he gets out of his car and walks up to your window, he allows himself to take a minute to actually breathe.
You’re startled out of your sleep to a tap on your window, looking up you meet the eyes of your very angry looking boyfriend.
As soon as you unlock the door, he’s pulling it open and unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’m so sorry-“ He cuts you off by pulling you into his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against yours.
“Do you have any idea how fucking worried we were?” You begin to gnaw at the inside of your cheek, the feeling of guilt all consuming your body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I was falling asleep.”
“I need you to realize how stupid and dangerous that was. We’re not in Maine or Utah, baby. We’re in LA. You know from working in a hospital how dangerous it is here.” He knows he should be a little more cautious with his words, but fuck he was scared.
“I’m sorry. I closed my eyes for two seconds! I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Matt stops himself from berating you anymore, knowing you probably feel guilty enough. “Just- go get in the car. I’ll grab your things.” “I can’t leave my car here-“ You don’t even finish your sentence at the look Matt gives you.
You get in the passenger seat of his car and watch as he grabs your things, and double checks that your car is locked, before settling in the drivers seat.
“I need you to really listen to me when I say this.” You turn in your seat to face him, his hand reaching for yours. To comfort you or himself, he’s not too sure at this point.
“The next time you even think there’s a possibility of you falling asleep like that, I’m talking you yawn for 2 seconds longer than usual, you better call me. I don’t care what time it is. I love you and you scared the hell out of me tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Matty. I love you and promise I’ll never do anything like that again.” He smiles softly, and places a delicate kiss to your palm.
Now that you’ve faced the repercussions of Matt, you spent the drive home preparing yourself for the inevitable lecture to come from the one and only Nicolas Sturniolo.
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raphaelsrightarm · 3 months
Note
Your work is absolutely amazing and I was hoping you could do a nsfw scenario for the bayverse boys, their s/o is super needy and desperate to be loved on but the boys are on the phone with someone (anyone of your choosing), they get tired of waiting and pull their mans pant down to blow him. It would be nice to see how long the boys last on the phone call.
Break
I chose Donnie for this one just because as I read this he immediately popped into my head let's also pretend Donnie's desk is behind a door in a secluded lab and not in their actual living room cause otherwise this would be awkward haha
Words: 1769
Warnings: Smut, 18+
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It had been two weeks since he had last fucked you. 
Two weeks of him either being glued to his desk or being dragged to his bed by one of his brothers whenever they had enough.
He had taken on new responsibilities with the NYPD, mostly in an attempt to ease the collective anxiety most of them had felt ever since their fight with Krang. He had been looking for ways to prepare themselves for a return, if there ever was one. Finally, he found a way. He’d spent never ending days creating devices that could pick up on any ripple that could allude to his reappearance. 
They were beautiful, and with each one he created your pride for him swelled more and more. There was another desk chair in his lab he had just for you, which is where you’ve been for nearly every day since he began working on his newest endeavor. 
You didn’t mind it. It was nice to watch him work. He always seemed to know what to do and how to complete it. You were sure that there wouldn’t ever be a day when he didn’t impress you. 
But you couldn’t deny that you missed him. Most days he would be at his desk, but still being able to leave it for a little while. Then there were times when he would get so swept up in his work that he would fixate on his project until he was completely sure he was happy with it. 
That’s what led to him being glued here for days. 
That’s what led to the need that’s been left to engulf you. 
“You’re quiet today.”
Donnie proved to have a certain talent to be vigilant of what was happening around him even while immersed in his screens. There had been days when you would be telling him stories as his fingers flew across the keys and he would hear every single word. 
“Sorry,” you watched as he pulled away from his notes and drawings and flexed his fingers. “Just distracted.”
“Oh?”
“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” You knew the answer by the way his eyes guiltily flicked quickly to his work then back to you. He was trying to figure out how much time these machines would take. He had finished ten, and wanted to create more so that there was enough to cover the city. 
He hated the way your face fell, hated even more that it was because of him. “I’m sorry, dove. It won’t be long before I finish all of this, then we can do whatever you want. I promise.”
“You don’t want to take a break?”
“I took a break the other day.” He said defensively. 
“You mean when Raph forced you to go to bed?”
He feigned offense. “I lost a lot of valuable time, then.” He was trying to make you smile, and the gesture alone brought a small one to your face. 
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes staying focused on you. 
“Come here,” He placed his elbows on the arm rests of his chair, opening his arms. Part of you wanted to be spiteful, to stay planted in your seat. But that part was much smaller than the temptation of being close to him. 
You curled up in his lap the way you had so many times before. His arms felt so familiar to you as they encased you. You laid your chin on his shoulder as his hands moved around your back. 
“I’m sorry,” He whispered as his fingers combed through your hair. “I know I can get caught up.” 
The guilt you felt washed away the rest of your anger, which flooded out with a sigh against his skin. “It’s ok. I know it isn’t your fault.”
He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before pulling you up so he could look at you. “How about we watch a movie in here? I could pull it up on one of my monitors.” 
You felt yourself fill with warmth at how much he wanted to see you happy. The effort he always made to make sure you didn’t feel neglected. 
“That would be nice.” His heart swelled at the sight of you smiling. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one that was supposed to be quick, innocent. Then he did it again. And again. Then his hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. 
It was almost embarrassing how much desire rolled through you from something so simple. You knew he could tell as he inhaled deeply through his nose, inviting your scent in eagerly. 
His hands slid to your hips as he savored the feeling of your lips on his, basking in the heat of your body. You felt him harden underneath you as his grip tightened. 
Slowly, you rolled your hips against his bulge. His whole body stiffened as he took in a sharp breath. He began guiding your hips to move at the speed he wanted, which unfortunately, was slow.
Even then, the friction was making your limbs numb, the only important part of you being the one touching him. His small moans would fold against your lips as he moved you faster. His hand slid up the back of your shirt, moving up your skin until he found the clasps of your bra, and you felt your heart race.
It was then his phone started ringing. And your heart dropped to the floor. 
Part of you hoped he would ignore it completely, and you deflated even more when he pulled away to check who was calling. He looked at you apologetically.
“It’s Vincent.” You pressed your forehead to his shoulder in defeat. His sigh had a hint of amusement in it. “Give me just one second. Just to make sure everything’s okay.”
You nodded as you climbed off his lap, returning to your seat. 
He answered and began speaking, you could tell he was trying to rush. He listened to her concern, then shut his eyes and let out a breath, once again looking guilty.
“She wants to ask about the placements of the devices.” He explained. After a moment, you realized he was asking you if you were alright with him answering her. You felt the sting of annoyance about the timing, but you nodded, waving him on with a flick of your hand. 
He reached out and squeezed your knee before turning his eyes to the monitor that had a map of New York, littered with purple dots indicating where he wanted to install his systems. He began listing off street names to her as you watched his lips move. 
Your eyes slid down his chest, guided by the strain of his straps, coming to a stop of his hard cock still pressing against his pants. Slowly, you rolled your chair toward him. He spared a brief glance to you before listing off more places on his map. He paused in between each one, making you think she must be writing them down.
Your hands slowly reached for him, your palms flattening on his knees. He looked at you, confused, until he saw the smirk on your face and your body moving to the edge of your chair. He pieced it together quickly after that.
He watched with a look that was a mix of disbelief and challenge as you slid to your knees in front of him. You didn’t look away from his eyes throughout any of your movements. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know the look meant, Don’t you dare. 
He then seemed to remember he was supposed to be responding, jolting a little. “What’s that?” He cleared his throat to try and mask that his voice had gotten high. “Yes, I’m planning on placing them the same distance from one another.” His hand squeezed his phone while the other was gripping the arm rest. You reached for the hem of his pants, undoing his belt and zipper before he became exposed to you. 
You slowly wrapped your hand around him, not yet moving, only applying the pressure. It was enough to have him breathing heavily, taking the lower half of the phone further away from his face to muffle it. 
His ability to divide his focus suddenly disappeared as he asked Vincent to repeat her question, giving her an answer you weren’t paying attention to. Your hand began a steady pace, his hips twitching slightly toward you.
There was a new fire lit in his eyes. He watched as you leaned forward to press kisses along the base. You ran your tongue up his shaft, stopping to swirl it around the head.
He bit his fist keeping his noise down as he glared at you. The spark in his eyes never dimmed though, he had been missing this just as much as you have. He missed the feeling of your hands on him. He missed the way your warm mouth felt wrapped around him. He missed being able to watch your eyes tear up as you took him as far back in your throat as you could manage. 
You took the head of his cock in your mouth, sucking gently on it before releasing. You kept your eyes on him, knowing that by now you’re on the way to driving him insane. 
You took him in again, pushing down further this time, as far as you could go. Your hand stroked the rest of him as your head began bobbing along his length. 
His head pressed the back of his chair as he began answering anything with one word sentences or with simple ‘mhm’s. 
Heat was traveling through you at the sight, spreading through every vessel in your body. His eyes clenched shut for a moment as he concentrated on staying silent. 
Finally, they began saying their goodbyes. 
“I’ll be able to finish them up soon,” His eyes full of lust as he looked at you, “I have something I need to deal with first.” His voice flowed against you like water as a new surge of excitement ran through you. 
You released him with a pop as he hung the phone up, still stroking him with a small grin on your face. He dropped his phone on his desk and ran his fingers through your hair. 
“That needy, huh? Do you need it that badly?” His hand moved to cup your chin. You began to stand, but he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Finish me off, then I’ll give you what you want.”
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lululandd · 9 months
Text
part-time psycho;
pairing: yandere!ghost x f!reader
wordcount: 1,921
warning: mentions of murder, implied cheating, jealousy, possessive behaviour
note: please understand this is fiction, i do not condone any of these behaviours irl (also on ao3)
summary: 
He’d be out drinking with his work friends, he said. Won’t drink too much because he had to drive home after, he said. You don’t have to pick him up because he doesn’t know what time he’ll be back, he said. Some of his friends might get super drunk and he might have to drive them home, he said.
Those were the things you remember him saying before he kissed you goodbye. 
You were roused from sleep by the sound of the front door slamming, and then people talking. There was an unfamiliar voice besides Simon’s, but you try not to listen too hard. But even your sleep-addled brain noted how odd that there were giggles and chuckles one moment and then… dead silence. Something felt wrong, the little voice in your head—the voice that kills people in horror movies, Simon would say—tells you to go check to see what it is. Groaning a little to shake the lethargy from your bones, you get out of bed and walk towards the stairs, but you only made it halfway down.
A woman was sitting on top of him, on the sofa. The woman Simon introduced you to months ago. His co-worker, his teammate, the person that has taken a bullet or two for him and vice versa. You can’t lie, she intimidated you from the very beginning. Their apparent closeness, their easy banter that you can never follow, the countless inside jokes, the way her hand always landed on him when she thought you weren’t looking, and her features. They were so similar to yours, and you don’t know which is worse, whether you came into his life first, or her.
Drowsiness left you as anxious dread seeps in. They spoke too quietly for you to hear, but you don’t care. Friends don’t sit on each other's laps like that, and certainly not facing one another. Feelings of inadequacy filled your mind as you walked briskly towards the front door and took off, grabbing whatever coat was on the hook. You just had to get out of there, far away from what you had just witnessed. Wiping the tears that blurred your vision, you notice your feet take you to the nearest pub, and you stand outside dumbly for a couple of seconds. 
That night was bitterly cold, and you wished you had taken a thicker coat. Putting your hands in your pocket, you realise you have no money. You didn’t take anything but the spare house keys, your phone, and the coat on your way out. The slippers you're wearing are the fuzzy kind meant for indoors. Digging in your pockets, you hoped past you left a couple of quid in there. You found two tenners in the inner pocket, and you shuffled inside to get a drink or two.
The pretty bartender with the large earrings noticed you immediately and asked whether you need help and if she should call the police. Glancing at the mirror behind the bar, you saw you were a complete and utter wreck and she was right to be worried. You made sure to convince her that you were just sad and not some victim of domestic abuse before ordering some shots. She gave you a worried look before grabbing the drinks.
You downed both drinks in quick succession as soon as they arrived. The first burn hadn’t even registered fully before you chased it with another one. Today’s not the day for sane choices and comfort, you need to dull the pain as quickly as you can.
It’s funny, being tipsy. Your brain doesn’t even know when it started, you suddenly are. It doesn’t matter much anymore that Simon had brought a woman that looks much like you home, you can live just fine without him. It’s not like he’s the best boyfriend anyway, he left so often and so long sometimes you don’t feel like lovers. Maybe he had already demoted you from that position long ago and you were too stupid and blind to notice.
It took you a while to realise someone was sitting next to you. Letting out a deep sigh that definitely lasted longer than you thought you could, you didn’t even have to look to know it was him.
“Will you be coming home tonight?”
You’ve heard this tone before. It’s the careful one he uses when he knows you’re upset. The voice that is laced with sympathy and understanding. But this time you don’t know if that question was borne out of malice or legitimate concern, so you ignored him. The glass of water that the pretty barkeep gave to you looks very interesting right now.
The silence stretched for a painful amount of time before it was Simon’s turn to sigh. “Would you believe me if I told you I was drunk and rejected her advances?”
You were bitterly reminded of how she was sitting on his lap earlier. How close her face had been to his. How her hands had been curling on his neck, and his hands probably sitting on her waist. You didn’t see or didn’t remember, but that’s where your mind placed it, the only logical place it could be.
He slid his car keys your way. “Wherever you’re going, at least take the car. Don’t take cabs this late at night.” And when you didn’t react, he left.
You left the pub after your fifth glass of water and a repeated play of Justin Bieber’s ‘Baby’—the staff were laughing while you heard one yell out profanities from the backroom—to check on the car. It suspiciously had your wallet, his hoodie, some cash haphazardly thrown on the front seat, and a large knife when you checked the glove box. You looked at your phone and mass texted your friends to see which one of them was awake and kind enough to let you crash at their place for the night.
One of your best friends replied, and you decided to go there immediately. They kindly offered their place for a week or two, but you ended up leaving on the second day. You had calmed down a little, and your friend suggested you talked this out instead of just making more and more assumptions in your head.
“The longer you’re not talking, the more your brain makes shit up.”
You joked that they just wanted you out asap and it ended up in a pillow fight that made you forget about your problems for a little while.
Driving home was the hardest. The scene keeps replaying in your head and your brain racks up the jealousy. How long have they been going behind your back? Is he just dating you because he can’t have her for some reason? Was whatever he was saying true, that he rejected her advances?
You found a parking spot not far from the house because for some reason you didn’t want him to see you coming.
As you opened the front door, you were met by two set of eyes looking bewildered at your direction. Simon’s arms were still on her waist while hers were draped over his shoulders.
Fuck these people.
Fuck him.
You threw Simon’s car keys on the floor and walked out, ignoring his pleas for you to wait and listen.
There was only one place to go now. Your parents. They welcomed you graciously, knowing you had a fight and wanting some space from your boyfriend even when you didn’t tell them at all about what happened. A week went by without any calls or texts from Simon, you decided it was time to go back and pack the fuck out of your stuff to live with your parents for a while. Why should you even think about being with him when he doesn’t even try to apologise. Living with your parents has reminded you what love could–should–be. Waking up next to each other every day, knowing they’re safe and within reach and not whatever it is you have with Simon where he goes missing for months at a time without contact. It was nice waking up to the sight of your parents chattering about, jokingly telling you to not burn the house down as they go to work, reminding you of your teenage years.
Thankfully Simon wasn’t home when you went to pack. It’s decided that you’ll only take your clothes for now and leave the paraphernalia for later. If you’re lucky, his job called while you were away and you can pack in peace.
But you weren’t so lucky.
“You’ve lost weight.” You jumped at the sound of his voice. Simon was a deathly quiet man when he needed to be. You didn’t hear the front door being open and shut or even his footsteps. He looked awful, his face unkempt with bloodshot eyes, his hair mussed, and his clothes dishevelled.
“I’m not wearing makeup so I look shit.” You retorted.
You had to look away as soon as you saw him bristle. He stayed silent for a while, his gaze focused on every facet of your face before going back to staring you down.
“Why are you lying?” His voice came as a quiet snarl, a low gruff that sounded like it hasn’t been used in days. 
“Because that’s also what you’re doing.” You threw the meanest look you could towards him, and you’d like to think that’s why he broke eye contact with you. Unable to help yourself, you continued, “Rejecting her advances my ass, Riley.”
Hearing his last name, he proceeded to cut across the room and reached for you, strong arms instantly curling around your waist as he turned you around to face the open armoire. You felt the need to run, to fight back, but what else could you do but submit? The man is 193 centimetres of pure trained muscles that can hold you full nelson for however long it takes him to fuck you in front of the mirror until he feels satisfied, while you run out of breath carrying the neighbour’s fat tabby for two minutes. You are a little rabbit at the mercy of a wolf.
Weak.
Pathetic.
“I'm truly sorry you had to see me when I tried to lure her into a false sense of security.” He pulled you even closer, your back gently bumping against his chest. “If I drove you to where her head is buried will you finally believe me?” 
Only half the words registered in your mind, “Simon this isn’t funny.”
Trying to wriggle away awarded you with a hiss and him nuzzling on the crook of your neck. 
“Wasn’t joking, love.”
“Simon.” You pleaded desperately. You felt sick. You knew he was a dangerous man, but he had told you, convinced you, that he would never hurt y–
Realisation hits in a revolting wave of nausea. He had never said he wouldn’t hurt others. “Simon?”
“Yes, dear?” He muttered, lips pressing intently against the sensitive parts of your ears.
His hold no longer felt safe, there’s desperation and a dangerous kind of hunger lingering underneath his touch. “D-did you keep a trophy? Of her, I mean.”
You think if he could just show you some sort of proof, you could somehow take it and just start running.
“Why the fuck,” Simon’s voice was suddenly laced with seething fury that you flinched in his arms. “Would I keep trophies of people that caused you pain?” His statement chilled you to your core and you stopped trembling for a moment. 
A choked, terrified whisper escaped you. “S-Simon?” Sickness curled your stomach, your knees buckled as you swayed. You don’t know when your Simon had left and replaced with this monster, or whether there was a Simon at all in the first place.
You felt his lips twitch and curl into a smile on the junction of your neck. "Yes, love?"
“Why was that plural?”
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spookydrreid · 3 months
Text
Let’s Start the New Year Right
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Spencer Reid x fem!reader
18+ minors DNI
desc: Spencer and reader get invited to a chill, casual NYE party. But things heat up right at the stroke of midnight.
cw: food mention, Spencer is a little awkward in the beginning, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in a bathroom)... Let me know if I missed anything
wc: 1667
...
“I can’t go dressed like this? People will laugh at me.” 
Spencer looks himself over in the mirror for the tenth time, running a hand down his sweatshirt. It was New Years Eve and you two weren’t doing anything too crazy, just spending time at your friend Andies house with a few others. She’d just bought said house and was desperate for you and the rest of your friends to see it. And what better time than New Year's Eve?
“They will not laugh at you. Andie said she wanted everyone to be casual and casual means jeans and sweatshirts,” you called from inside your closet. “And we’ll be out by the fire. You’ll be more comfortable like this. Trust me.” 
You peak around the corner to his portion of the closet, a small smile tugging at your lips. He looks cute, more dressed down than you usually see him. In fact, this is the most you’ve seen him in the past three weeks. Serial killers don’t take breaks, even during the holidays. So off he and the team went to bum-fuck-nowhere Alabama and missed Christmas.
It was disappointing to say the least. 
But it was his job, something he warned you of previously. However, it didn’t mean him missing important days didn’t hurt. But you sucked it up and smiled through it. Plus, it didn’t matter. He was home and he was safe. 
“I do trust you. But I don’t want to be underdressed.” He sighs moving to grab his tennis shoes, sitting on the little poof seat you insisted on buying. (And that he secretly loved. Not that he’d admit it.) 
You pull your hair out of the back of your sweatshirt, smoothing it down and grabbing a warm hat. “You won’t be. This isn’t like Rossi’s where we dress to the nines and get drunk on champagne.” 
You see him grin as he ties his shoes, a small blush rising on his ears. 
“Yeah he was sad we were coming this year. I, however, am excited we aren’t going. I have spent more than enough time with all of them. They’ll survive without me for a night.” 
You giggle, walking towards him and hugging him from behind. “Yes, baby, your friends will survive without you. You’re all mine tonight.” You kiss his cheek before straightening and checking your phone, “we should head out, sweetheart. Andie will be pissed if we’re late.” 
The drive to Andies was short, filled with Spencer's long winded explanation about why you and he bought your house at the ‘most perfect time’. You loved listening to him ramble, even if half the time he spoke gibberish. You were thankful you could google some of the super big words he used. 
The second you’re parked outside the house, big, beautiful and full of holiday cheer, you see Spencer tense. You’d think after six years together, he’d be more calm around your friends. They helped him with the proposal after all and he still has the group chat. The group chat where they send him memes he doesn’t understand. However, no matter the time, he isn’t the most comfortable with anyone but you. And more so in your bedroom. 
You find it… endearing to say the least. 
You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it three times i am here. “Ready?” 
He squeezes back and nods, “I am… I think.” 
It’s all you need before getting out and never once letting go of Spencer’s hand. 
Andie stands at the door, smile on her face, two glasses of punch in her hands. “There is my best friend and her hot as fuck fiance!”
Spencer practically cringes at her words, never being one who could handle a compliment. Even if he was the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen. 
“Hi! Sorry we’re late. We had a late night. You know how it is, serial killers killing during the holidays. Dr. Reid forever having to save the day.” You pat his chest, looking up at him fondly. 
He loves when you look at him like that, eyes so wide, filled to the brim with love. He kisses your head and 
Andie fake gags, handing you the drinks in her hand. “Yes, yes. Get inside before we let the kitten out and before the cold air comes in.” 
You sip it, the vodka making your chest feel warm. Spencer looks down at the cup before looking back at you, “I can’t drink. Want this?” You nod, taking it and pouring it into your cup. “A-andie do you have water? Bottled? I don’t like sink water and fridge water tastes funny so bottled is better. Even though it’s not good for the environment.
“But it’s not really us that needs to worry. It’s the famous people who really pollute the envi-” 
Andie cuts him off, “Spencie baby, you don’t have to explain this to me. I have plenty of bottled water. Want a cold one or a room temp one?” 
Spencer curls his lips over his teeth, a small blush creeping up his neck, “cold is fine. Thank you, Andie.” 
“You’re welcome sweet thing.” She digs in her fridge and finds the bottle, handing it to him. “Now, time for a tour.” 
… 
It takes a good few minutes for her to show you both around the house, making sure she explains every single detail even down to the persian rug her current boyfriend bought her when he went to visit his mother. 
Spencer, of course, went on and on about this, that and the third. It was cute. 
But soon you were in Spencer's lap, staying warm by a fire and roasting a marshmallow while Spencer got the chocolate and graham crackers ready. You were two drinks and three shots in, happily buzzed but not even close to drunk. 
“You are so hot when you open chocolate. S’anyone ever told you that?” You say it quietly, not wanting to embarrass him in front of anyone. 
He smirks, using the top graham cracker to slide the toasted marshmallow off of the stick and smoosh it between the other cracker and chocolate. “No one has ever told me that. But there is a first for everything.” 
He takes the first bite before handing you the rest. You pout a little and he laughs. “You ate my smore! Not fair.” 
He kisses you, lips brushing over yours gently, “I will make you another when you finish that one.” “What happened to my shy boy? Getting bossy out here.” You smirk, knowing you’re pushing his buttons.
“I didn’t hear you complaining last night when I fucked you into the mattress.” He says right in your ear, nipping at it slightly. 
You shiver, squirming in his lap. “You-you can’t do this to me. We can’t fuck here.” 
He kisses your temple, “there are four bathrooms here. We totally could. They all lock, I made sure.” 
Andie claps her hands, “ten minutes till midnight!” 
Spencer grips your thigh, “what a way to ring in the new year? Me buried inside you.” 
You cross your legs, trying anything to get some friction. 
“They’ll notice, Spence.” You look around, no one is paying attention to you, most of them sucking face with their dates.
“Oh baby, they won’t notice.” 
Before you know it, your pants and underwear are on the bathroom floor, and Spencer's face buried in your cunt. You bite your fist to quiet the moan. For some reason, it was extremely hot getting eaten out with the possibility of someone hearing you. But that didn’t mean you wanted to get caught. 
“So pretty bunny.” He purrs from below you. He pushes two fingers inside you, easily opening you up. He knows your body better than you do, making mental notes of every little moan, gasp, and sigh that leaves your lips. Because of this it isn’t long before he has you falling over the edge, somehow keeping your moans quiet.
“Time,” He asks as he stands, towering over you.
You check your phone with shaky fingers, “11… 11:50” 
Spencer pulls at his belt with fervor, pushing his pants down till they pool at his ankles. “Gotta keep you quiet for another ten minutes.” 
His lips are on yours, swallowing your moans as he pushes all the way inside you. He doesn’t waste time, his hips snapping against yours. His lips travel from your lips and down your neck, moving your sweatshirt to the side to suck hickies where no one can see them. 
‘Just for me,’ he’d always say. ‘Only for me.’ 
“Spencer, please.” How you manage to whisper it is beyond you. But it doesn’t matter with the way he’s moving. 
“Shh… I’ve got you, bunny.” He snaps his hips faster. 
Your second orgasm comes right at 11:58. And it isn’t long before you can hear your friends counting down. 
Ten.
“Fuck bunny. Feel so good.” 
Nine
“S-spencer…” 
Eight
His hand covers your mouth, muffling your growing moans. 
Seven 
“I know you don’t want to get caught.” 
Six 
“‘Specially not so close to midnight. Right?” 
Five 
You shake your head no. Eyes staying locked with his.
Four
A wicked smirk crosses his lips, his confidence growing. 
Three
“S’what I thought.” 
Two 
His thrust grow more and more sloppy and before long his head falls into your shoulder and his orgasm rips through him, spilling inside you. 
One
His kiss is hard, hands on the sides of your face while he makes out with you, riding out the rest of his orgasm. He’s panting as he pulls back, Spencer's forehead resting on yours. 
“Happy New Years, sweet angel.”
...
I hope you enjoyed! This is my first fic in almost a year. Im nervous to say the least lmao. I love you all ❤️
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imaniwriting · 3 months
Note
Hi, I think u said that some requests like got deleted or smth. anyway I had a request where it’s Rafe x reader and like he has to leave for a meeting that’s last minute and he was like hanging out with his girlfriend, the reader, and his friend and like he pulls him into another room and gets SUPER overprotective. saying stuff like ‘she gets a scratch, she catches a fever, anything happens I’ll kill u’. I saw it in another tv show and ughhhh 😩😩😩 anyway maybe the reader gets hurt or smth, idk u can add a little bit of ur own twist 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 thx
(Love overprotective!rafe)
𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 (Request are open)
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Warnings : overprotective!Rafe, swearing, topper and kelce being a bad influence (let me know if i missed any)
Summary : when Rafe leaves to take care of business he makes it clear not to get you hurt.
Genre : mostly fluff
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You were currently at the beach with Rafe and his friend’s topper and kelce. You were trying to learn how to surf by the help of Rafe but let’s just say you are not a fast learner.
“Fuck they calling me for.” Rafe asked himself while picking up his phone when it started ringing you guys were currently having a break and sat at the beach bar.
Rafe had his arm wrapped around your waist, glaring at any boy who stared at you too long. He knew he shouldn’t have let you leave with the tiny bikini you had on. But he promised he could fight if it came to it.
“What do you want Barry im busy” he said in an harsh tone annoyed. His eyes scanned you while Barry was talking on the other line he rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath before replying “I’ll be there”
You were obvious to the and still were eating your burger he had bought for you. “Baby, I gotta go i’ll see you later i need to take care of something” he said with a bitter tone to his voice he didn’t want to leave you in the first place.
You looked up at him in confusion “what why?” You asked. “I don’t know Barry told me he needed me stay away from the water till i’m back I won’t be long” he said getting up from his chair.
You nodded and he kissed your lips before handing you his credit card “ if you want to buy anything else do that just don’t go into the water without me” he said making you grin “don’t worry baby is won’t” you reassured him before he abruptly turned to topper and Kelce.
“I swear to god if anything happens to her, a cut, a bruise i will kill both of you slow and painful” he whispered in a low voice so that you couldn’t hear him. He then turned to you smiled and walked over to his car.
Soon after you had finished eating and went back to your towel. Closely followed by topper and kelce. “Damn I really wanted to keep on surfing.” You said sitting down on the towel. Topper shrugged “you can.” He said making you shake your head “rafe told me I should stay away from the water till he’s back.” You explained.
“So what he’s your dad now or what? You can do whatever you want” said kelce making topper nod. “For real though he wont even know.” He tried to convince you which worked rather fast. “Maybe one wave wont hurt.” You said standing up with the surf boat in your hand.
Topper nodded and walked with you to the shore. “Here we go” you whispered to yourself. Before running into the water. You stepped on your surf board that Rafe had customized for you when he heard you wanted to learn how to surf.
But before you could prepare for the wave it hit you knocking you off the surfboard but your eye hit the edge of the surfboard making you yelp before hitting the large body of water.
Topper and kelce saw that and panicked quickly running in to get you before contemplating whether they should tell Rafe or not. You were already sat back on your towel with an ice pack. “Dude if we tell him he’ll kill us!” Said Kelce while staring at you you found the whole situation rather amusing. “It’s not that deep kelce why are you so on the edge?” You asked laughing not knowing what rafe had told them before he left.
“Look y/n when he comes just act normal and act like you are just hot thats why you have the ice pack.” You shrugged and nodded not caring really.
Not long after Rafe made his way over to you who was eating an ice cream. He smiled before noticing the dampness of your hair. He looked at the surf board and realized that it was also wet.
“Hey baby,” he started but stopped when he saw the ice pack on your face. His relaxed expression was quickly replaced by anger. “What happened?” He asked grabbing your hand and gently removing the ice pack only to reveal a bruised eye.
His eyes snapped to topper and kelce who were rubbing their necks trying to ignore the stare he was sending them. “Let’s have a talk shall we guy’s?” He asked with fake enthusiasm while grabbing their arms.
Let’s just say that day topper and kelce returned with two bruised eyes.
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oracle-of-dream · 3 months
Text
The Boy Next Door pt2
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Minors DNI
Summary: It’s been over a week since Jeno met his new neighbor. You’ve decided playing hard is the best way to get Jeno wanting to see you more and more. When you finally let Jeno see you again, you’re sure things will get interesting.
Warnings: Pet names, Dom!Jeno, big dick Jeno, Male reader, hand job, unprotected sex, breeding, mating press, drinking, drunk sex
Wordcount: 2.8k
You fixed your bag over your shoulder as you shut the door and used your keys to lock the door. You didn’t have class until almost 11 am, but there were no good places to park on campus unless you arrived early. Focused on locking the door, you felt a chill run down your spine as you felt like you were being watched from somewhere… Slowly, you looked over your shoulder to see nothing behind you. Just the door of your next-door neighbors closed. With the chill still sitting on your back, you go down the stairs of your apartment to your car. When you get in, you toss your bag into the back seats and check your phone for a few minutes before leaving.
Knock knock
You look over to see Jeno knocking on your window, he is breathing heavily and his black hair is stuck to his forehead. He pointed at the window, motioning you to roll it down.
You rolled the window down enough to hear him.
“Finally, we’re willing to talk to me,” Jeno sighed.
“Is this going to take long? I’ll miss out on my chance to get a spot near my class. I don’t want to walk super far.”
“Let me in, I’ll ride with you.”
You pretended to think about it, your eyes closed and forehead wrinkled.
“Jesus, Y/n! I’m begging, let me ride with you.” Jeno pushed his body against the car while whining.
“Fine, get in then.”
Jeno rushed to the other side of your car and sat himself in the passenger seat.
Once he was settled, you drove towards the campus. Focusing on the road, you didn’t look over as you said, “So, can I help you with something Jeno? Or did you just want an Uber?”
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but it feels like you’ve been avoiding me…”
“Am I? Or are you just not trying hard enough to catch me?”
“You’ve been leaving early in the morning, being gone all day, and even when you are home you ignore the door. And I know you’re home. I even tried calling you.”
“Oh gosh, Jeno. It’s like I’m a busy student, I am at school for hours, and when I’m home I want to finally sleep after a long day’s work…”
Jeno got silent for a few minutes before getting the courage to speak again. “I, want to talk about the last time we got to… interact.”
“What about it?”
“What was it supposed to be? Like a one-time thing, or something more?”
“What do you think it was?”
“I can tell you what I want it to be–”
You break-checked Jeno, cutting him out of his sentence. “Sorry, what was that?”
“You came onto me, Y/n.”
“And you came in me, Jeno.”
Jeno fell silent again, trying to think of a proper comeback. Before he got the chance, you ended up getting to campus and finding a parking spot rather quickly. 
“Well, I gotta go now. It was nice chatting, I guess.”
Jeno followed you, just a few steps behind you.
You started to speedwalk, moving through large crowds of people and making sharp turns to lose him. But every time you thought you’d managed to shake him, he’d be there. 
“Oh for the love of– Jeno, what is it!?”
“Y/n, let’s be boyfriends or something! I don’t know, I liked us together…” Jeno’s face and ears were a soft tint of pink. To think this was the muscular, motorcycle-riding, bad boy type that you’d sucked off before. Now reduced to a needy puppy who won’t stop following you.
“Why would we be boyfriends?”
“Because we got something going on here!”
“We’ve only met like twice, and the other of those times was more memorable than the other.” You chuckled as you could see his dick twitch in his sweatpants. 
“You said you’d like for us to see each other again!”
“That doesn’t mean seeing each other, Jen.”
“J-Jen?” He stumbled at the sudden nickname.
“Too much? I thought boyfriends would have cute nicknames for each other.” You pretended to make a pouting expression.
“So, we’re boyfriends!? Just like that?” Jeno’s expression brightened with a big smile.
“Now that you mention it, I don’t want things to be too easy. So, let’s find out if this will work. I’ll see you tonight around 7, at your place. Then we can find out if we can be a thing.”
Jeno frowned. “But you seem fine with being my boyfriend already…”
You shot him a cold glare. “You calling me easy?”
Jeno shook his head. “No! 7 pm, my place! I’ll be waiting!” He took off before he could say anything else to turn your attitude.
Finally able to enjoy some peace and quiet, you go through your morning routine. Grab a soda, find a spot in the library doom scroll on social media until class time. After your classes for the day, you had about two hours before you were supposed to see Jeno. Plenty of time to go home and prepare for the night you predicted would come.
While getting dressed and making yourself presentable, there was a knock at your apartment door. You answered it, opening the door wide. 
Renjun was standing in the doorway, dressed in a cardigan and a collared shirt with black jeans. “Hi y/n! Jeno tells us you’re coming over tonight for game night!”
“Game night?”
“Yeah! Jeno and the other guys in our friend group get together every once in a while to hang out and play some games. Didn’t he tell you?”
You raise an eyebrow and smirk, “No, but sounds fun! I can’t wait. Should I bring anything over?”
“Not at all! Just come over whenever, some of the others are here already. Mark and Haechan ran out to get snacks and drinks, I came over to ask if you wanted anything specific so I could pass it on to them.” Renjun pointed at his phone in his hand.
You shook your head. “No, I’m not too picky, I’ll let y’all choose. And I’ll be over in a second, I’m almost done getting myself together.”
Renjun smiled and waved as he went back over to his apartment. “Just come right in whenever the door will be unlocked.”
You spent a little more time in the bathroom, double-checking yourself in the mirror. Then you walked around the hall and let yourself into Jeno’s apartment. 
It was clean, surprisingly, and orderly. There was a hallway with records on the wall leading into a room with voices coming from it.
“Oh? Someone’s here!” A high-pitched voice called.
“Is it Mark?” A deep voice added.
“No, there’s no way they’re back that fast.” You heard another voice.
You saw a buff man in a sleeveless shirt with dark brown hair and black pants come out of the room.
He looked you up and down with an eyebrow raised. “And who might you be? I think you’ve got lost, but we’ve got space here if you wanna stay.”
You shook your head, trying to not look too hard at his pecs peeking from his shirt. “I was invited. I’m y/n.”
He opened his eyes wide in surprise. “Oh! You’re y/n!” He stepped forward and pulled you in for a hug, which was warm and tight. “I’m Jaemin, I’ll introduce you to the others.”
“Where’s–” 
“He’s still getting ready,” Jaemin turned and winked at you. He told me he was looking forward to meeting you at 7 tonight. He’s my best friend but he won’t even tell me anything about you, so I hope we get close tonight.” Jaemin’s voice was soothing and smooth like he wanted to help slide you off your feet and into his bed. He led you into the living room where three others were waiting. “That’s Chenle, Jisung, and I’m sure you know Renjun.”
You greeted the two new faces.
“I’m Chenle!” Chenle’s voice was loud and high-pitched, which was not expected from his face facial features. He has black and red hair, and wore slacks with a tucked white button-up. 
“You a business major?” You pointed at his outfit.
“Yeah, family business. As in, my family funds the Business major program.”
You raised your eyebrows and turned your attention to the other man.
“I’m Jisung,” Jisung was the opposite of Chenle, he spoke softly but his voice was very deep. He had very kiddush features with a knit black and white hat with cat ears, a New York hoodie, and ripped jeans. “I dance.”
You nod, “that’s cool. Dancing is cool. I dance a little.”
Jisung’s eyes glowed for a moment. “Y-Yea… We should dance together sometime, or whatever.” 
You could tell her didn’t mean, “or whatever,” he wanted to dance with you.
The two of them both seem interested in you but are also pretty close to each other. You knew it would be interesting to learn about what’s going on with them later.
Renjun leaned in, trying to speak softer. “So, what’s the deal with you and Jeno?”
You raised an eyebrow. “The deal?”
The others murmured in agreement. 
“Jeno seems to be making a pretty big deal that you were coming tonight, telling us not to say anything too embarrassing.”
“Does this count as embarrassing?” You asked.
Jaemin shook his head. “It doesn’t count when he’s not here. He can’t be embarrassed by what he doesn’t know is happening.”
“I can hear everything, and it is embarrassing!” Jeno’s voice came from a room around the corner as he came into the living room. You turned to get a tasteful look at his outfit, it looked like he’d taken some serious time to clean up. Jeno neatly brushed his hair into a middle part. He was wearing a sleeveless leather jacket, a black crop top, and dark denim jeans with a black belt. He was wearing his pants low on purpose to show more of his toned stomach, small waist, and the waistband of his underwear.
He approached you, “I’m so glad you could make it.”
You dryly chuckled, “Well, I said I’d be here, right?”
He nodded happily. Instinctively he reached for your hand as he moved into the living room. You let him take your hand and walk you to one of the couches so you could sit next to him. He sat first and scooted as you sat down so you landed on his lap.
You turn to him, “Really?”
He had a silly smile plastered on his face, as he felt all his friends examining him and his guest.
Renjun cut in, “Well, Mark and Haechan will be here soon. Let’s chill and we can hang when they get here.”
Eventually, the last two guys show up, Mark and Haechan are attached at the hip. Probably a couple, and if not then it was only a matter of time. After getting settled, everyone started to enjoy the night of eating, gaming, and drinking together. Before you realize it, you end up getting into a drinking game with Jaemin and losing badly. Renjun had to call the competition as it was getting late and people were beginning to pass out. Jisung and Chenle cuddled together on the couch. Jaemin started cleaning up the mess. Mark moved Haechan to sleep in his room before helping clean up. Renjun was the only one who didn’t drink since he didn’t like the taste of alcohol, so he was taking care of everyone. 
You could still understand everything going on, but you were drunk. 
Jeno was only focused on you. “Do you need anything, water or something?”
You shook your head. “Nah, I think I’ll just head home.”
Jeno grabbed your hand gently. “You could also… stay in my room. We never really had that talk, remember?”
You smiled at Jeno. “You want me that badly, that you’d even take advantage of me being drunk?”
Jeno shook his head furiously. “I’d never do that!”
You chuckled as you threw yourself into his arms. “Okay, I’ll stay in your room then. But you’ll have to carry me.”
Jeno picked you up bridal style without a second thought. “I’m going to go put him to bed now.”
Renjun winked at Jeno, “Just make sure to not make too much noise.”
Jeno blushed. “It’s not like that!” He carried you off into his room before Renjun could tease him anymore. He carried you with one hand, as you wrapped your arms around his neck so he could open his bedroom door. Gently, Jeno laid you onto his bed on your back. You looked up at him as he hovered over you.
“Do you wanna kiss?” You asked softly.
Jeno locked eyes with you. “Like so badly. But you aren’t in a good state of mind, we shouldn’t do anything that could lead to that…”
You sighed. “Jeno, you wanna be my boyfriend?”
Jeno nodded.
“Then fine, we’re boyfriends.”
Jeno hugged you tightly, putting his body weight onto you. You felt every part of him as his crop top slid up his torso while he hugged you. 
“Now that we’re boyfriends, we can kiss and whatever.” 
Jeno pulled away, “are you sure that’s what you want?”
You pulled Jeno into the bed and rolled on top of him. His face was initially shocked but moved into awe while he stared at you slip your shirt off. You pick up his hands and place them on your hips, and he takes the signal to let his hands run across your body. You slowly swing your hips, pressing your ass against his clothed cock. 
“It hurts…” Jeno moaned.
You stopped. “I’m hurting you?” 
“No! No, please don’t stop!” Jeno squeezed your hips and moved you the way he wanted. "Mo-more please." He pleaded.
You let your hand slip under his waistband and into his boxers, making direct contact with his cock while you kiss him. You started moving your hand up and down his cock, his hips fucking into your hand. Your body starts to stick as you get faster. 
Jeno throws his shirt aside before coming back to kiss you across your chest, stopping to focus on your nipples. 
You slide down his body, his legs hanging off the bed as you start to unzip his pants and take his belt off.
“Let’s not get too carried away with a head this time?” Jeno laughed.
“You couldn’t handle head and this ass.” 
“I totally could–”
You kiss him again as you slide his underwear and pants off, he does the same to you.
“Hold on, I’ll get rubber.” Jeno lifted you, but you didn’t let him put you down.
“You can skip if you want.”
Jeno looked you in your eyes. “Sex and it’s raw? You’re crazy… and now you’re all mine too.” He slips his finger into your ass which slips in with no resistance. “You came ready for me?”
“Of course I did.”
“So you always meant to be with me?”
“Well duh.”
Jeno laid you on the bed with your legs in his hands as he held your ankles. He climbed on top of you and slipped in his fat cock. He slammed his body into yours with power and sleep, he smirked as he watched your face change from pain to pleasure. Each mean stroke was deep and hard, making you some at a brutal pace. The sounds of skin-on-skin slapping were so loud, Jeno’s grunts mixed with your moans. 
“Am I too big for you baby? You were so confident I wasn’t the one who could handle you. Jeno kisses you again while still fucking you, your body was overloaded with sensation. Your toes scrunched, your legs shook, and you even started drooling uncontrollably. “Cum for me, do it now!” 
Your whole body reacts to his command as you cum so hard you shoot onto your face. You’re body tenses, mostly your ass, making Jeno fuck you through your orgasm feel even better. 
Jeno flipped the two of you over so that he was on the bottom and lifted you up and down onto him, fucking you like a fleshlight. Your hands were holding his pecs for balance, nails scratching him. 
“Please, baby, cum soon. I can’t take much more…” you begged.
That was all that Jeno needed to have one of the strongest orgasms he’d ever felt. He held you down as he pushed himself as deep as possible, shooting into you. Your brain was blank, your body was acting on instinct; hole clenching repeatedly to milk Jeno, your head was thrown back, and your eyes were sealed shut.
Jeno gently helped you lay down on the mattress. “You going to be okay?”
You mumbled back, “I don’t know if I can get up…”
“I can carry you to the bathroom.”
“Don’t bother… Just keep it in me, I’ll deal with it later.”
Jeno moved, pulling out slightly, and it made you almost scream like crazy.
“I told you–”
“I know, I’m sorry baby. I couldn’t help myself. I won’t leave.” Jeno moved back into you, leaving his warm cum and his cock inside of you as you fell asleep. “Goodnight, baby…”
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yoon-kooks · 1 year
Text
paired & puppy-eyed | jjk
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⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader
⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au
⛓️summary: When Jeon Jungkook agrees to be your partner for a class project, he doesn’t realize what that might escalate to until you show up at his door in a teeny-tiny crop top and cling to his tattooed arm like his naughty little kitten.
⛓️word count: 4.6k
⛓️warnings: dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, dirty talk, reader calls herself a sl*t one time, dick tattoo, many rounds of sex off screen😔
⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️
a/n: if you're looking for the ✨filthy✨ smut version, read paired & pierced from the reader's pov! this one takes place in the same 2 days but from jungkook's pov without explicit smut😔 if you read both, lmk which version you preferred! i personally like this one more bc we get more catdad!jjk heh
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Jungkook doesn’t always have a goal for the day, but today is different. He’s running on approximately zero hours of sleep and would love to get a nap in before class starts. That shouldn’t be too much to ask.
Unfortunately for him, that won’t be happening today because there are at least ten girls huddled next to his desk when he walks into the classroom. An onlooker might assume that these girls are gathered around for a chance to win his heart over, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, there’s a queen bee sitting a foot away from him, and she’s the one everyone’s always drawn to. 
That queen bee is none other than you.
As Jungkook quietly takes his seat, he overhears something about that Loudmouth Jim who sits on the other side of the classroom. Apparently, you were hanging out with that guy at some party. A girl like you can do so much better than Loudmouth Jim who always needs to make everything about him. He couldn’t accept it when his ex broke up with him, so he turned it around on her to make it seem like he was the one breaking things off with her. Now he’s made it his mission to make her jealous by flirting with popular girls like you. Jungkook swears he only knows this because his tattoo artist loves to spill the tea he hears from his other clients.
“Is he as big as they say?” All the girls look so wide-eyed and eager to hear what you have to say about Loudmouth Jim’s cock. They talk about shit like this all the time, and as much as it makes Jungkook want to bang his head against a brick wall, he’s also lowkey disappointed that they’ve never once wondered about the size of his cock. He wouldn’t mind if that seed were planted in that pretty little head of yours.
As it turns out, you haven’t seen Loudmouth Jim’s cock. Thank god. And from what it sounds like, you didn’t want to see it anyway. Good girl. In fact, when Jungkook takes a peek next door, you don’t even look super engaged in the girl talk. You nod along and smile a bit, but you’re a lot quieter than one would expect for someone so popular. It’s kind of cute.
Eventually, class begins and Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief. Now the girls have to cut the chitchat and leave. At long last, he can finally catch up on some sleep. This wouldn’t be an issue if not for the tiny demon kitten that wandered to his doorstep a week ago. Not only does she keep him awake at night by knocking shit down and chewing on his phone charger, but she also haunts him in his sleep.
He dreams of the little fucker swatting her paws against his back and wiggling her tiny body into his hood. When that isn’t enough to get his attention, she starts gnawing on his index finger.
“Hey Jungkook.”
The boy opens an eye and the first thing he sees is you bent down in front of him as if you were about to do something indecent under his desk. He immediately shakes that thought out of his head, though he still has no fucking clue why you’re down there looking up at him with such needy puppy dog eyes.
“Wanna be partners?” you ask him.
Still half-asleep, he looks around the room and sees everyone pairing up and talking about a project of some sort. Fucking hell. He absolutely despises any and all projects that aren’t individual. Even the ones where a super pretty girl is asking to pair up with him. But before he can decline, he notices you checking over your shoulder and sees Loudmouth Jim on his way over. Ah, it all makes sense now. You’re just using him to avoid being partners with that asshole. It’s a matter of picking the lesser of two evils. Understandable.
“Sure, I guess.” As much as Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, he wouldn’t have had it in him to say no to you anyway. Not with those puppy eyes.
“Good, good.” The smile on your face is too much. Why are you smiling that big for something as small as agreeing to be your partner? It’s really not that deep. But it is really cute. Fuck. See, this is what happens when he doesn’t get enough sleep—his mind develops some sort of irrational softness that won’t go away until he either lets his body rest or rubs one out. He’ll do whatever it takes to get that nasty soft feeling out of his system.
Seeing how the classroom isn’t the best place to have his hand in his pants, he opts to fall back asleep before class ends. Hopefully he won’t be disturbed by any more kitten nightmares.
Ten seconds later, Loudmouth Jim enters the scene, and Jungkook can kiss his nap goodbye. Still slumped over, the sleep-deprived boy listens in on the awkward exchange between you and Loudmouth. Bro apparently can’t take a hint that you want nothing to do with him. Jungkook would step in and tell Jim to fuck off, but he wants to see you do it yourself. That would be kind of hot.
“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry,” you say in an apologetic tone. You probably get taken advantage of all the time because of that compassion. There’s no need for you to be so nice to everyone you interact with, and especially not to shallow people like Jim. That must be exhausting.
“That kid asked you to be his partner?” Loudmouth spits. Kid? Jungkook does his best not to snort while pretending to be dead. When he takes a peek, he sees you nod. “And you said yes?” 
You nod again. This time, however, you don’t give him the gentleness you’re known for. With a furrowed brow, you almost look bothered—something you probably feel all the time but never show. It’s so rare to see your emotions out in the open like that. It’d be quite intriguing to see how you look when you’re genuinely happy, sad, mad, horny—
Nope. Jeon Jungkook is not going to let his sleepy mind wander there on a Friday morning. It can at least wait until he gets home.
After Loudmouth Jim is gone, Jungkook sits up and stares at you. Your face has already softened back up. Fuck it. He’s never seen anyone so cute in his entire life, through sleep-deprived glasses or not.
“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you.” Kind of a dick move of him to ruffle your feathers when he already knows about your distaste for Jim, but Jungkook is genuinely curious to hear what you have to say. And he’s not one to be curious about other people’s affairs.
“That’s not what he wanted,” you say. They don’t call him Bad Intentions Jim for nothing.
“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” Perhaps “friends” isn’t the best word to describe the rest of your classmates, but it’s clear that they enjoy being in your presence.
Apparently, you feel a bit more detached than that. According to you, no one’s going out of their way to save you from a hypothetical burning house. Jungkook probably would. But there’s no way in hell he’s admitting something like that. He’d sound like a simp!
“Who would you save?” he asks. Surely you have someone you’d put before anyone else. Anyone would be lucky to be your number one.
“No one.” 
Jungkook knows he shouldn’t feel a certain way about your answer, but he can’t control how his lips curl into the slightest smile. Your response is proof that the two of you aren’t as different as it seems. He might even like you for it.
Heck, he might even offer to do the whole damn project by himself and still give you credit for it! That’s the plan he has cooked up for his antisocial self—until you keep insisting on working together. Something about meeting up on the weekend. Maybe he should stop playing hard to get and just say okay.
“I’m busy.” He immediately hates himself for saying it. That’s his default response for any sort of social gathering, and his dumbass went on autopilot for no reason.
“Busy with what?” The way you flutter your eyelashes at him is both innocent and seductive. Are you actually flirting with him? Because it’s working.
“My newborn,” he utters out of panic. It didn’t entirely come out of his ass, though. The vet did say his kitten is around eight weeks. That’s basically a newborn, and she’s definitely been keeping him busy.
But then your eyes get all big and sparkly. “You have a child?”
How the fuck is Jungkook supposed to respond to that? You’re so excited over a human baby that doesn’t exist, and now he has to be the bringer of bad news. He normally doesn’t feel bad for others, but this makes him feel like absolute shit.
“If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?” you offer. Why the fuck are you so gullible and trusting in him, and why is that a huge turn-on for him?
“I was just fucking with you…” he finally comes clean. You look exactly like the surprised Pikachu meme, and yes, it’s adorable. Fine, you win. He gives you his number and address and invites you over. 
All that for a fucking project.
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When Jungkook returns home, a sleepy kitten waddles its way over to the door to greet him. She yawns her fish breath in his face as soon as he picks her up for a kiss. Ungrateful little demon.
She doesn’t stop there, either. With a burst of energy and a bushy tail, she flicks her eyes around, looking for a wire to chew on. The computer cords must be quite appetizing because she keeps trying to eat them.
“Hey, that's dangerous, Lucy.” Jungkook peels the kitten away from the wires and sets her down on his bed, but she just runs right back into the danger zone. “Lucinda, you little shit.”
Twenty minutes later, the boy makes a run to the pet store and returns with a few peace offerings. He’s not much of a cat person, so he has no idea what all the young kittens are into nowadays. Hopefully they like mouse toys and pink bunnies.
Like the new father he is, Jungkook spends the rest of his evening teaching the kitten how to play fetch, rocking her to sleep, and tucking her in with the mouse and bunny. Finally, the demon has been tamed.
By the time he gets into bed, it’s already past midnight. He’s exhausted and should probably get some sleep, and yet his mind is still wandering. He can’t quite shake that image of you getting down on your knees at his desk, just begging for his attention. For a second, it looked as though you, the most popular girl on campus, were lusting after his cynical smartass self. The mere possibility of that lures his hand into his pants to address that ache he’s been enduring all day. But before he can get any relief, he hears a set of paws back on the prowl.
Jungkook hobbles out of bed and turns on the light. To no one’s surprise, the naughty kitten is caught red-handed with a wire in her mouth.
With a sigh, he collects the kitty, sits her down in his lap, turns his computer on, and opens up the code for the partner project. It’s going to be a long night.
The funny thing is, the assignment itself doesn’t require much time or effort. What takes up all his time and effort is this silly kitten. She’s adorable but so damn needy. Kind of like you. If you were here to work on the project with him like you’d fought so hard to do, you’d surely be much too big of a distraction. No work would ever get done when you bat your eyes at him and giggle over the tiniest things.
It takes a good few hours between modifying and adding lines of code and keeping an eye on the troublemaker, but Jungkook eventually gets it done before the sun rises. As an added bonus, the naughty little wire fairy has finally worn herself out. She curls into a ball on top of Jungkook’s chest and falls into a deep slumber. The boy is out a minute later.
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It’s around ten in the morning when Jungkook wakes up and checks his phone. You’re supposed to drop by sometime today, aren’t you? He wishes he knew when to expect you, or if you weren’t coming at all. It’s up to you to message him, though, since he gave you his number and not the other way around.
Just then, he hears a knock at the door. His first instinct says it’s you. But then he checks his phone again and sees no new message from your unknown number. Surely you’d shoot him a text before heading his way.
It’s probably just the special package of kitty toys he ordered a few days ago. He’d get up to check, but he’s not trying to disturb the little rascal from her slumber. She’s still resting peacefully on his chest, and he’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.
But what if the package gets stolen? Jungkook spent a lot more money than he’d like to admit on those kitty toys, and he’d be pretty pissed if someone took that away from his child.
Groaning, Jungkook slowly lifts the sleepy kitten off his chest and places her on the warm spot where he’d been lying. She stretches out her tiny limbs but otherwise continues her snooze. Perfect.
The first thing he sees when he opens the door is your bare tummy because you’ve apparently decided to show up at his door unannounced in a micro crop top. It’s so short your pretty tits might pop out if your arms were held above your head. Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t mind seeing a little underboob if that’s the look you’re going for today.
Then he notices you staring at him like he’s a stranger. You haven’t even greeted him yet. He watches as your eyes travel up his bare arm to his face and messy man bun, and then back to his arm. That’s when it hits him. This is the first time you’re seeing any of his tattoos and piercings. 
The quiet studious Jeon Jungkook at school doesn’t look like the type to have a full sleeve or this many piercings. He doesn’t like drawing attention to himself and prefers to keep a low profile. Life is just easier that way. That’s why he always takes his piercings out and covers his tattoos with a hoodie when it’s time to go to class. 
Seeing him now in a muscle tank must be quite shocking to you.
“Why do you look like that?” You have the audacity to point the finger at him when you’re looking that good in your little crop top. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”
Oh? You sound kind of upset at the fact that he’s been intentionally hiding his body art in class. Like you’ve been missing out.
“Maybe,” he answers as he leads you inside. Your curious eyes are still glued to his tattoos. You ask why he hides it all, and he mentions his distaste for compliments and small talk. 
He does it to avoid the exact things you’re so good at attracting.
“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” You bring out a pouty lip to combo with those puppy eyes. He wonders how you make your pupils so big like that. And what the fuck are you so whiny for? You want to admire his body art that badly? Fine.
“I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment.” Without a single thought, he lifts his tatted arm for you to grab onto. Your hands are so soft and warm as they slide across each tattoo. It’s in times like this that Jungkook wishes his entire body was covered in tattoos for you to trace with that angelic touch.
After what feels like forever, you still haven’t said your one compliment. It seems like you’re just using this as an excuse to latch onto his arm like his little kitten. 
“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” He’d give you a nudge but his arm is too busy being fondled.
“I wish I could see all of them.” Your eyes meet his as your tits press into his arm. The compliment is innocent at face value, but the implications behind it sure as hell aren’t. Oh, you definitely want to fuck him.
If you think you can just waltz into his home with that crop top, drool all over his tattoos, and ask for sex so shamelessly, you’re not wrong. His body is aching to squeeze those tits, to feel just how tight you are, and to make you squirm until you squirt.
“Ooh kitty.” Like an easily distracted toddler, you toss his arm aside and move on to the next toy that fascinates you. The kitten drops her mouse in front of you and sniffs your hand when you scoop her up. Jungkook watches from afar as his own kitten steals you away from him. She even presses her pink nose to your cheek. That little fucker.
Jungkook has to bite his tongue at least five times to stop himself from asking if you’re done playing with his cat. He’d come off as jealous and needy for your attention. Instead, he acts like the mature father he is and puts her to bed in that pink new donut cushion he’d bought for her the other day. She kneads her paws on the bunny until she can’t keep her eyes open anymore and settles into the loaf position. He’s convinced she’s only behaving like an angel right now to impress his lady friend. 
“So what’s this project again?” The boy has no intentions of actually working on the project, but he’d prefer it if you weren’t so focused on his cat.
“You’d know if you were listening!” You turn back to the cat again. He could’ve sworn he heard you whispering something into her triangle ears like, “Your daddy is so useless.”
Hearing that name come out of your mouth is confirmation. Confirmation that you’d be so submissive if he were to spread your legs open and make you his little plaything. And he kind of likes the sound of that.
“I’m just fucking with you again. I already finished it, by the way,” he hums. Since you seem to be the stubborn type when it comes to project participation, he sits you down at his computer with the finished code to prove that daddy is not in fact useless.
He expects you to be all wide-eyed and impressed by his work, but you simply sigh as you run the program. Great. It appears he has yet another ungrateful little thing on his hands.
But then you start adding in a bunch of stuff “for the aesthetic” because although he’s “quite possibly the nerdiest boy you’ve ever met,” there’s still room for growth when it comes to “the fun shit.” And by “the fun shit,” you mean coding in a cat doing some elaborate kpop choreo. 
Half an hour later, you run the final product again and submit it in its perfect form. Aren’t you the nerd here? Quite possibly the prettiest nerd he’s ever met.
“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd,” Jungkook says before face-palming internally. Why does he always resort to name-calling as his way of flirting with people? This is why no one likes him and why he’d rather just keep his mouth shut. He’s going to ruin a good thing with you if he keeps that up.
But to his surprise, you throw the name right back at him with a playful smile on your face. “If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd.”
“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him.” But a threesome with you? Sounds interesting.
You call Jim an asshole and don’t deny that you have a bunch of shallow relationships with the people in your class. When the boy asks you about it, you admit it’s intentional. It’s this mindset of surrounding yourself with a lot of different people until you run into the few you click with. 
And while Jungkook can’t relate to having that many connections to his peers, he understands the desire for someone who cares for you unconditionally and makes you want to do the same. He’s been waiting for that person to show up for him too. Idly. At least you’re putting yourself out there.
“Found anyone yet?” he asks, lying down on his bed. He stares up at the ceiling and not at the pretty person sitting less than a foot away from him. You’d joined him on the bed at some point to play with the kitten, but the feline was very quick to abandon you. Now it’s just you and him.
“There might be a boy I’m interested in.” Your voice is flirty and soft. The boy knows he might have a big ego at times, but there’s no doubt in his mind that you’re talking about him. You wouldn’t be on his bed eyeing him like that if that weren’t the case.
With that knowledge in mind, Jungkook decides to tease you some more. “I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it? You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”
“Fuck no.” Your face hovers over his like the moon during an eclipse, except you’re much more enticing to look at. He catches your eyes on his lips until they find their way up to meet his gaze. “Never mind, it’s no one.”
Liar.
“Really?” His body suddenly moves on its own, overcome with the lust that had been building up since you first showed him those puppy eyes in class. He pulls you beneath him and holds both of your wrists above your head. He was right. That crop top is indeed short enough to show him some underboob with you in that helpless position. And, much like how you said you wanted to see all his tattoos, he wants nothing more in this moment than to see the rest of you until he’s seen it all. 
Purposely keeping the tiniest distance between his lips and yours, he whispers, “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”
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As the afternoon turns to evening, you’re still at Jungkook’s place, still fondling his arm on his bed, and still obsessed with all the art and piercings that grace his body. The two of you had fallen asleep after getting a few rounds of filthy sex out of your systems, much to the boy’s surprise. He’s used to people leaving right after, whether it’s because the relationship was purely sexual or because it just wasn’t worth his time. You’re different, though. There’s something about you that he wants to keep holding onto.
“Did this one hurt?” You poke the metal sticking out of his eyebrow.
“Not as much as you stabbing me with your finger just now,” he frowns, running a hand through his messy hair. The man bun must’ve come out at some point in the midst of all that hair pulling and wrestling in the sheets.
“You must have really low pain tolerance then,” you giggle with your finger ready to poke him someplace else. But before you can do so, he closes his hand around yours and tucks your pointy finger away to put an end to your antics. “You’re no fun,” you pout.
“Really? You seemed like you were enjoying it when I let you s—”
“Where’s this one from?” You somehow dodge the accusation and free your finger from his grasp to poke the shark tattoo that you now know hides beneath his shirt. You’re so sneaky.
“Someone.” Aka the same artist he gets his gossip from.
“What about the… snake one?” Of course that’s the one that pops into your dirty little head.
“Someone else.” Aka the one he might have slept with a few times before she convinced him that the snake would look good on him there. She wasn’t wrong. “You’re nosy.”
“I’m just asking! Maybe I want a tattoo too!” you squeak. Jungkook has no doubt in his mind that you’d look pretty damn hot with any tattoo anywhere on that body. “Tattoos are attractive, no?”
“Be honest, you only fucked me for my tattoos, huh.” The boy knows this to be false because you aren’t the shallow type, but he just wants to hear what other good things you have to say about him. Because maybe he doesn’t hear that a lot from others.
“Obviously. It had nothing to do with how hot you are, or how easy you are to talk to, or how soft you are for your cat, or how perfect of a pair we made for that project,” you lie with the most charming smile ever, snuggling up as close as you possibly can to his body. Twirling his long hair around your finger, you tuck it behind his ear, and whisper, “I’m such a little slut for your tattooed cock.”
The boy gets yet another urge to tear your clothes off again and feel your bare body connect with his so perfectly. He’s just about to shove his hand into your panties (you gave up on pants after the third time) when you let out a tiny snicker.
“I take back what I said about you not being fun,” you say, lips flush against his neck. “You’re fun to tease.”
Him? Fun to tease? Maybe you’re forgetting about all the teasing and torture he put you through earlier. Maybe you’re in need of a little reminder.
“Hey,” he says in his stern parent voice. You look up at him with those big innocent eyes again. Oh great. It’s clear that you know his weakness and aren’t afraid to exploit it. Just like how his naughty little kitten knows she can get away with anything because she’s too cute to get mad at. “Behave or I’ll kick you out.”
“Oh?” His so-called threat catches your attention enough to get your ass in his lap and your hands tangled in his hair. You let him taste your lips, your tongue, your everything—a sweet taste he won’t ever get sick of. “Do whatever you please to me,” you purr as the soft kisses quickly become an unbearable heat of pure desire.
Between you and his kitten, Jungkook already knows he’s gonna have his hands full. The thought of caring for others would normally irk him, but it’s not like he could ever say no to you or the kitten, even if he tried.
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cod-dump · 5 months
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Soap is everyone's partner best friend and it drives people and because he's super clingy about it. There's no place for Price to sleep in his own bed because Soap took his place between Nik and Phil and they let him because "he was tired and sad". Gaz came back from a mission and thought he will spend time with Roach but he can' t because Soap's already laying head on his lap, talking about whatever bullshit they're at now and Roach seems content enough about it. Laswell threatened to take every single phone in a base to her office because she can't ever call her wife because Soap's always on a phone with her with new rumors. Alejandro has to actually wait for his turns to dance with Rudy whenever Soap's around because he Rudy lets Soap steal him with a smile.
Price was starting to wish Soap and Graves never made up considering how the sergeant was always with him or Nik when Price had free time. He just wanted to relax with his boyfriend and husband but Soap was already wedged between them, a movie playing. Price had to wait for the movie to end just so he could cuddle his partners since Soap refused to leave without finishing the movie.
Gaz didn't think Soap hanging out with Roach was a problem until he came back to base after a long mission. He just finished debriefing everything that happened, showered and ate, and he just wanted to spend time with his boyfriend... Which he didn't get to do because Soap and Roach were reading some comics together. Gaz went to bed annoyed and frankly upset he didn't get to spend time with Roach after missing him for months.
Laswell originally had no issues with any of her boys having Annie's phone number. She was 'Homey Mom', which countered Laswell's 'Stern Mom'. But she started having a problem when never seemed to be able to talk to her wife while away from home because Soap was always on the damn phone with her. Laswell had so many messages from Annie telling her she was already on the phone with Johnny and couldn't talk at the moment.
Alejandro was already pretty touchy and generally jealous over Rudy. That was his amazing husband, his soulmate, the light of his existence, and fucking Soap was stealing all his attention! Alejandro was fuming when he saw them dancing at the bar, Rudy laughing as Soap twirled him around. Took a few Los Vaqueros to keep him from doing anything that he would've regretted.
It annoyed them all, bothered a couple. It was Alejandro who found a solution to it, being beyond angry with Soap for stealing all his husband’s attention. Soap had held Rudy’s hand for the last time because Alejandro went on the offensive.
As Soap leaned against Rudy, too close for Alejandro’s comfort, he would notice Ghost walk into the room. He sat up straight and went to call out to him, but then Alejandro swooped in from behind and wrapped his arms Ghost’s waist, resting his head on the man’s shoulder and grinning broadly. Soap just stared as Ghost and Alejandro talked. Everyone noticed Soap’s reaction, so, they naturally followed Alejandro’s lead.
And now Soap get almost no time with Ghost.
“Sorry, Johnny, Captain wants to go out drinking. No, you can’t tag along, it’s a high end club and he didn’t call ahead with a third wheel in mind.”
“Busy, Johnny. Kyle and I are going on a hike. You and Roach were suppose to go to that movie, why are you asking?"
“Laswell needs me for a few hours. Oh, you’ve been talking on the phone all day, you won’t even miss me.”
“No, I can’t. Alejandro is taking me out to eat. Some, what did he call it, five star restaurant? Supposedly good food but it’s expensive. I’m not missing out on that!”
Soap was finally getting a taste of his own medicine. And, unfortunately for him, Ghost was all too happy to go along with everyone’s plans. While he wasn’t bothered by Soap’s closeness with the others, he would prefer his boyfriend’s attention on him.
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as-is-above-so-below · 2 months
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Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader
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Part 2: Midnight Rain
summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>
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You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.
Fuck.
The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?
The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.
Fuck.
Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.
The latter won out.
“Y/N? Are you alright?”
John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…
Not the point of the call.
“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”
There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.
You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”
He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake. 
That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. 
“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”
“…You do?”
“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”
There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.
The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.
You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children. 
“…Really?”
“Sure.”
Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…
Holy shit.
“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”
“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”
“I thought you were the boss?”
You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather. 
“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”
Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.
You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”
“I am.”
A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”
“Maybe.”
Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–
No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.
“Thank you so much, John.”
Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.
“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”
“It is.”
“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.”
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seuonji · 4 months
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彡 miss miss miss you!
notes ๑ what they do when they miss you. (long distance! they’re on tour.)
genre ๑ fluff
warnings ๑ use of pet names otherwise, non.
word count ๑ 1k
from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3
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what’s to miss when he’s calling you all the time? like if he’s not on stage or practicing or with the members, he’s probably on the phone with you!
seungcheol…ring
“ynnie,” he whispered.
“hiding out in a random room again i see?” he’d been going to any enclosed space he can do that the members wouldn’t see or hear him calling you.
“just wanted to talk to you! besides i told the members to take five.”
“yeah but i’m pretty sure you told the members to take five like what, five minutes ago?”
“why’re you being like that? should i end the call?” he pouted.
“tell me what you’ve been up to honey,” you laughed and sighed.
calling you is more of a way of recharging than a slacking off type of situation.
joshua…ring ring
“shua?” you called out confused.
“ynn!” he yawns.
it was nighttime but he had to hear your voice.
“what’s up?”
“tell me about your day love.”
he’d eventually fall asleep and he’d apologise about it the next morning but frankly you find it cute.
soonyoung, seokmin…ring ring ring
“ynnn.”
“this is the third time you’ve called me today.”
“i missed you!”
“is that so!”
would turn into a long conversation filled with the smallest details of things you did between the time you stopped calling him and now. it’s like filling in a new diary.
+
he sends you things throughout the day everytime he misses you. especially between breaks he’d send you a post or a picture which was like a way of notifying you he’s free so you two could have a conversation.
jeonghan, jun loves sending you pictures of his sceneries along with a caption of what was happening in the photo. in a way he makes you feel like he’s with him. later on when you’re with him and he talks about it, it doesn’t feel too foreign or you won’t get confused.
jun would also send you the most out of context photos like one time he sent you a picture of him picking his nose. it was very insightful at the very least.
minghao, vernon sends you posts from his feed. it’s usually posts that reminds you of him. cause range from an art piece from a museum to a picture of a crocodile, no in between.
seungkwan often send sends you memes— he actually did the “updating you everything every second” thing for. awhile but eventually got fed up with it and he just tells you all about it when he gets back home.
you both facetime alot and people can tell when you’re calling each other cause it’s so much banter.
+
he misses you every second but he’s really not the type to just spontaneously call you. he usually leaves calling you for the end of the day so in the meantime, he usually scrolls through your social media’s for awhile. but eventually, he sends a text when he realised he seriously misses conversing with you. he wonders what took so long for him to initiate a conversation.
mingyu only held back so long cause you teased him for being clingy like a dog. turns out it was try cause he kept thinking about booking a plane ticket but that would definitely have heads turning.
jihoon, you didn’t even know that man uses social media like that man uses instagram as a catalogue?? nut he likes to see if you’re free or what you’re up to through social media. when you seem free, he’s finally send a text.
calls with jihoon last super long, as long as there’s a topic you can go on for hours but the calls are especially long due to you two falling asleep amidst the call.
+
if he misses you, all the more he avoids texting or calling cause he doesn’t want the feeling to fester. when he feels, he feels hard. he doesn’t do well with distance
wonwoo found it weird. he always liked being by himself but since he met you, he always wants to be around you and that became him norm. but when tour came around, he thought it would be normal, he’s been through tours multiple times but he could feel something was missing as he was sleeping in a king sized bed alone.
he realised it wasn’t a good feeling so he tried to avoid texting you too much cause that would only add on to the fact he misses you.
but it all falters when you called him one night. and that moment felt like bliss. the heavy feelings he had over you disappeared and he got used to the distance. anyways, it was only temporary.
chan wasn’t clingy per se but he was used to having you around. he so when tour came around and he felt desolate with the fact you weren’t in his vicinity, he tried to push those feelings away.
he tries to distanced himself in an attempt to get yiud to not being there. he honestly disliked the dependence he had on you.
but it didn’t matter anymore after you called him. he missed your voice, your laugh. he wasn’t embarrassed to admit he misses you, it was just unfortunate he had to wait to see you.
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