#I cannot move him from my kitchen counter
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I mix my warm scrambled egg for breakfast and sit down on my dark bench
Me, murmuring: you used to call me on my cellphone
My eggs, still warm: *begin to wiggle and steam”
Gordon Ramsay, who I have mistakenly caught in my various traps and guises: That’s not good, they’re not supposed to do that
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εïз┊𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 — feat. bokuto kotarou, miya atsumu, iwaizumi hajime, sakusa kiyoomi, suna rintarou
synopsis. seeing your other half shirtless is a normal part of a relationship, but how do they react when it’s your first time seeing him without his shirt on?
— content warnings. suggestive, shirtless 2D men, pet names (baby, darling, angel, pretty baby), kiyoomi is shirtless & pantless ;)
— word count. 890
εïз┊author's note. posting this gem again for funsies and i literally cannot stop thinking about every single one of these men :3
εïз┊b. kotarou
he couldn’t help but text you as he opened the door to his apartment. after sakusa’s spike to his stomach, he needed to tell you not only how cool it was, but how much it hurt. it wasn’t long after his last text that you were at his doorstep, gladly being invited in by his voice echoing throughout the small apartment. “ko?” “baby!” he popped out from the doorway of the bathroom, a giant smile on his lips. his legs moved on their own as he approached you, his instinct to kiss you upon seeing your beautiful face. he cupped your cheeks, his lips grazing over your own before he pulled back, your cheeks hotter than they usually are. his head tilted in confusion as he stood there half-clothed, his chest—his abs—put on display just for you. “baby? are you still in there..?” he knocked lightly on your head, completely clueless of the effect he had on you.
εïз┊ m. atsumu
a sigh fell from his lips as he threw his jersey to the side, practice had been tough on him recently. though, he couldn’t figure out why that was. he was just so stiff, and his sets were lacking, it had stressed him out. of course you knew that, he couldn’t not tell you what was going through his mind. he huffed as stretch his back, putting his arms above his head. his eyes found the mirror above his dresser, a small smirk appearing on his lips as he looked at the body he’d made for himself. “h-hey ‘tsumu, i brought food..” his attention was now on you who stood in the doorway of his bedroom with food in hand, it was evident by your face you were flustered, and he knew why. he smiled, stepping towards you with dark eyes. “well thanks angel.” he took the food from your hands, quickly giving you a kiss on the cheek. he smirked, his lips grazed your own before he let out a breathy chuckle. “like what ya see? first time if i remember correctly.”
εïз┊ i. hajime
he let the water slide down his throat, quickly wiping the sweat from his forehead after his morning run. he sighed, setting the bottle onto the kitchen counter as he pulled his tank top over his head before throwing it over his shoulder. you said you were going to stop by earlier in the morning, though he figured he’d have time to shower, make the two of you lunch, and be able to hang out the rest of his day off. thoughts of what to make you filled his head as he opened the fridge. “you look a little sweaty, haji.” you giggled, making him turn to you as you eyed him. he grew flustered at your sudden appearance. “i thought you were coming over later..” “i told you i was on my way.” now that you mentioned it, he did feel his phone buzz in his pocket, though he never got around to checking it. after that moment, after your little smirks towards him the rest of the night there was no way he was going to live down your teasing. he just hoped you wouldn’t tell oikawa.
εïз┊s. kiyoomi
his wet hair dripped water onto the bathroom floor, his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. his curly hair covered his face, his towel loosely wrapped around his waist as water droplets slid down his chest. the steam from the hot shower dispersing through the crack in the bathroom door. with a little shake of his head, he pushed himself up from his hunched over position at the sink, and pulled open the door, the cold air hitting him suddenly. goosebumps appeared on his skin as he threw his towel over his hair, hoping to not get the floors of his bedroom soaked. he paused as he looked through his drawers, hearing a small creak of the floorboards. his eyes flickered towards his door, where — to his shock — you stood. “darling? what-” “sorry omi!” you yelled, your voice cracking as you slammed the door. he flinched at the loud noise, you reaction confusing him until he realized where his towel wasn’t. he slammed his head against the edge of his dresser, his face turning bright pink as his eyes grew wide.
εïз┊s. rintarou
he laid on his bed, spread out on his back as a hand was set gently on his bare stomach, another holding his phone as he scrolled through tiktoks, trying to waste the time away so you’d get there sooner. and it worked, you finally strolling your way through the doorway. his eyes flickered towards you for a moment, then back to his phone as he scrolled to the next video. “what are you watching, rin?” he let out a small hum, glancing up at you from where he laid. your face grew hot, this being the first time you’d seen your boyfriend without a shirt on. a smirk made its way to his lips, he knew, and you knew he knew your body was heating up. he dropped his phone next to his head, quickly pulling you onto the bed with him, making you fall onto of him as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of you neck. “y’know you like seeing me half naked, pretty baby.”
taglist :: there's none at the moment but just send me a message to my inbox if you wanna be tagged :3
#[εïз] — fluffy time#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu fanfic#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#haikyū!!#bokuto x reader#bokuto koutarou#haikyuu bokuto#bokuto kotaro#suna rintarō#suna haikyuu#suna x reader#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarou x reader#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu miya#atsumu#miya atsumu#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa x reader#haikyuu sakusa#hq sakusa#msby sakusa#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi hajime#haikyuu iwaizumi
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The Heart's Filthy Lesson - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
🪓Summary: Your best friend has always been dedicated to you. But isn't everyone's best friend like that?
🪓Word count: 15k
🪓Playlist for this fic can be found here.
🪓Genre & warnings: one shot smut. (twisted) best friends to lovers. unreliable narrator. elements of horror. descriptions of stalking against the reader, violence against others (not the reader), unhealthy relationship dynamics. dom hwa. dirty talk. underwear is torn off reader. oral sex, reader receiving. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.
this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
You’re fumbling with your keys, trying to get it into the lock without dropping your overstuffed bag. Why do I overpack so much? You curse inwardly. Every time, you swear that only essentials will be packed. Somehow, that ends up meaning enough underwear for a month and clothes for three different outfits a day even when you’re just visiting family.
You manage to get the key in the lock, practically tumbling inside your small apartment on the third story. Unceremoniously dumping your bag on the floor, you let out a long sigh. Like all family visits, you’re glad for them but also socially drained.
Padding into your living room, you wince a little. Way too much light in here, you think, I thought for sure I closed the blinds when I left. You turn around, fighting off the urge to take a nap. The trip is catching up to you, leaving you tired.
But you stand in the middle of the room, feeling a strange sense of unease. The living room looks entirely the same yet you cannot shake the sensation that something is different. It’s just cuz I thought I had closed the blinds. But the words ring hollow in your head.
In the quiet atmosphere of the apartment, you can distantly hear the traffic outside and the neighbor upstairs moving something heavy around. Your eyes slowly look across your kitchen counters before landing on a small pile of mail.
Curiously, you walk towards it, picking up the stack. There is a small sticky note stuck to the top with just a quickly drawn smiley face on it, the ink smeared into the paper on one side. Frowning, you peel it off and go through the mail. All of it is from when you were gone –
A knock on the door makes you jump, pressing your hand against your chest for a second. The pile of mail drops back to the counter, scattering across it as you go to the door. You don’t check who it is. You already know.
Opening the door, you find yourself face to face with your overly enthusiastic best friend.
“Hey, I remembered you were supposed to be back around this time so I figured I’d come over to say hi.”
“Hi, Seonghwa,” You say, already moving to the side to let him in.
He glances over his shoulder at you while heading into the living room. “How was the trip? How was your family? Did you tell them that I said hi?” Every word is said quickly, as if they are all fighting for importance and can’t decide what order to pop out in.
You push the door closed, trailing after him. You’ve known Seonghwa longer than anyone else in your life – he used to live next door where you befriended one another at just six years old. You went to the same high school, even the same college and when you decided to move to the city, so did he. You lived on different sides of the city at first until a year ago, when the apartment building finally had an opening and now he lived just one floor under yours. The two of you were a team – you knew everything about him and he never forgot a detail about you. Things were comfortable…although maybe a little too comfortable.
You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. “You brought my mail in.”
He turns to look at you, smiling brightly. Seonghwa always had the same countenance – pleasant and happy. “Yeah, of course.”
“I don’t remember giving you a key.”
“Oh, your plant needs watering.” He leans over and touches the wilting leaves gently, already moving past the fact he let himself into your place without asking. “Want me to do it?” He looks up at you.
You sigh, walking towards him. “Seonghwa,” You touch his hand gently, trying to get his attention.
His expression falters just for a moment before guilt pops in behind his eyes. Seonghwa looks tired, although that isn’t new, because he’s always on his computer at all times of the day and night. He glances downward at where your fingers had grazed his skin for a split second. His profile is so familiar to you – the sharp curve of his jaw, the long nose, his perfectly plump lips hiding perfect teeth. This is the same man you’ve grown up with your entire life. You know objectively he is beautiful but you’ve known him for so long that it no longer catches your notice. From the time he got in trouble for pushing a kid bullying you at the playground when you were both eight years old to sneaking out while in high school to go drink to this very moment, he’s always been there. That’s why you dislike whenever you come off as though you’re lecturing him.
“It was from two weeks ago. Remember? I had to let the plumbers in for you,” Seonghwa protests.
“You’re supposed to give the key back,” You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers.
He ducks his head, some of his hair falling in front of his eyes as he looks down at the sagging plant. “It’s in my place. I don’t keep it on me.”
“Fine,” You sigh, “Next time, okay?”
Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip for a second before his eyes lock on yours. “It happened six months ago. I mean, don’t you think – I think I’ve done a good job at not crossing a boundary since then.”
You hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation today. But maybe that is your own fault for constantly putting it off. It isn’t even that you’re mad at him anymore. But coming home late one night to find him passed out drunk in your bed after using your key to get in just felt like shattering a boundary. You took your key back after that, giving your best friend a dressing down even though he was apologizing profusely.
“I mean, you technically weren’t supposed to use the key to drop off my mail,” You point out.
His cheeks flush. “I was trying to be helpful,” He mumbles, eyes darting away from your face.
You sigh, knowing you’re going to give in. That is how it usually worked with Seonghwa. He was always the overzealous best friend, eager to help you even to the extent that it resulted in too much on his own plate.
“I know,” You reply, “And I appreciate it.”
His face lights up, all earlier guilt and tension erased immediately. Seonghwa immediately begins to pepper you with questions about the trip back home, leaving the earlier conversation about boundaries long passed. You aren’t sure if anything you said even sunk into his head. Likely not, you think.
After all, you know Seonghwa so well. You know what sticks to him.
*
“Hey!” The familiar chipper voice snaps you out of your mindless phone scrolling.
It’s two days later, after work, and you’re meeting Seonghwa for a coffee. The key issue is long forgotten, overtaken by the daily events of life that naturally take more importance than your best friend helpfully bringing in your mail.
He’s pushing through the crowd of people that have formed looking for a late afternoon caffeine boost. It had begun snowing earlier and there are a few snowflakes melting in his hair. His brown jacket hangs off his thin frame, the same jacket he’s had for easily a decade because he doesn’t care enough to buy a new one. It’s well worn, fraying at the seams near the elbows, and you’ve seen it against the backdrop of a multitude of different coffee shops.
“Am I late?” He stands by the table, looking down at you, not paying attention to the man trying to get past him while carefully balancing two cups of coffee in his hands.
“No. Even if you were, it’s okay. I was waiting for you before I got anything.”
You move to get up but Seonghwa shakes his head quickly. “No, no,” He nudges you back in the seat gently, “I’ll go order for us. It’s too crowded.” He is looking in your eyes. “I know what you like.”
He’s gone then, back in the crowd, moving towards the counter. You watch him go, turning your attention back to your phone. Ten minutes later, Seonghwa returns, handing you the coffee and sliding into the seat across from yours. The table is crammed in the corner, a clear attempt to try to fit more seats inside since the snow is coming down.
“I’m getting sensory overload in here,” You remark when someone smacks your arm with their laptop bag on accident.
“Do you want to go?” Seonghwa leans forward, “We can go if it’s too much.”
“No, it’s fine,” You shake your head, “I should have given more consideration to the time, I guess. How are you?”
He drums his fingers against the table while answering. “Fine. The usual. How was work?”
“The usual too. That project I’ve been stuck working on finishes next week – ow,” You wince as someone else hits your arm while squeezing through the tight space between your table and the next.
Seonghwa reacts like lightning, too quick for you to even say anything. His hand reaches for the strap of the man’s bag and he gives a sharp tug on it. “Hey!” He snaps and the man looks over his shoulder with wide eyes, “Pay attention to where you’re going!”
“Seonghwa, it’s fine –”
“I’d rather walk in the snow than be in here,” He says curtly, grabbing his coffee cup and gesturing for you to follow.
You do, and out in the cold, let out a small sigh of relief. Alright, maybe the idea of leaving the crowded coffee shop was the right choice. The soft layer of snow that is forming across everything is ruined by the many feet trampling over it hurrying to get home after work.
But you walk slowly along the sidewalk with Seonghwa, neither of you speaking for a few minutes. You glance out of the corner of your eye to find him looking at you.
He clears his throat quickly and asks, “What were you trying to say in there?”
“Oh, the project. It’s winding down next week. I’m relieved.”
Someone cuts in between the two of you and when Seonghwa moves back closer, he is no longer looking in your direction. “Is the project leader still texting you outside of work?”
You blink, a little surprised he remembers such a small detail from a few months ago. “Yeah, sometimes. But it isn’t anything unprofessional.”
Seonghwa’s cheeks are slightly red from the cold. He is holding the coffee cup tightly for warmth. “He might ask you out when the project is done.”
“Maybe,” You reply with a shrug, “We’ll see.”
Your best friend falls silent. The look in his eyes is from a thousand miles away for a couple of seconds before it snaps back into focus. “Would you say yes?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how I feel when it happens.” You hadn’t given it a lot of thought.
There is another silence which is unusual for Seonghwa who usually fills the conversation easily. But he seems to be mulling something over and is lost in thought – a rarity.
“What about you?”
His head snaps up, looking at you. “What do you mean?”
A lone snowflake lands on the bridge of his nose. You lean forward and brush it off. The gesture comes automatically, instilled from years of friendship. You’ve brushed a thousand snowflakes off his face and shoulders over the many winters spent hanging out.
“That woman at the coffee shop was flirting with you a few weeks back,” You then frown, “But we haven’t been back since. We could’ve gotten you a date.”
Seonghwa turns his face away from yours, slowing his pace down a little while watching the rush hour traffic grow larger on the road.
“No, I’m good.”
Coming to a stop at the crosswalk, you nudge his shoe with yours. “You haven’t been on a single date in ages.”
“So?” He turns to look at you, his eyes wide and questioning.
“Nothing, you just work a lot from home, that’s all. I wouldn’t want you to miss out something fun because of that.”
“Trust me, I’m not. I just am not interested in awkward dates.” He bounces on the heels of his shoes for a couple of seconds until the crosswalk turns green and he takes off like a shot.
This is typical of Seonghwa’s walking speed and you try to keep up. “Was I overstepping?”
“No,” He replies swiftly, his energy bubbling underneath the surface, “But I had a string of very awkward dates all last year and I need a break from them.” He runs his fingers through his hair, still walking at a brisk pace.
“Right, I get that. I didn’t mean to come off like I was lecturing –”
Seonghwa stops suddenly, so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet. “You never come off like you’re lecturing,” He says, reaching out to help steady you, “I understand you just want what is best for me.”
“Right,” The word sends up a tiny puff of air from the cold, “You’re in your apartment a lot except when you’re with me. That’s all.”
Seonghwa’s hand is still on your arm but the grip is so loose that you can’t even feel it through the thick jacket. His nails are bitten to the quick. He lowers his hand once he knows you’re not going to fall over.
He flashes a quick grin, the same expression you’ve seen a thousand times. Your shoulders relax, knowing he isn’t upset with you.
“Is that so bad? Maybe I just wanna hang out with my best friend right now.”
“No, there isn’t anything wrong with it. I just need to make sure you’re doing alright though. You’d do the same for me.”
Seonghwa’s grin softens and he gently punches you on the shoulder. “Yeah, of course I would. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” He straightens up. “Now, come on. Enough discussing how I prefer to be indoors all day. Mental check-in complete. Ask me again in six weeks.”
“Right,” You are smiling, your concerns about Seonghwa spending too much time alone now allayed.
“Let’s get home, alright? I’m freezing.”
The conversation resumes, the ebb and flow always the same, some topics circled back so often over the course of time that they feel more like well read books with their spines bent than anything exciting. But you like that with Seonghwa.
With him, what you see is what you get.
*
“Nope, not Mario Party,” Seonghwa shakes his head, stretched out on the couch in his apartment, “You turn into someone I don’t even know when you play that. Half the time, I think you’re gonna tear my face off.”
You scoff. “Come on. That isn’t true.”
“Yes, it is. Think about last time.”
Shifting awkwardly on the couch, you avoid his eyes. “Whatever,” You mumble, remembering cursing him out for stealing your star.
It’s a week later and you’re trying to unwind from the stresses of work. The project finished yesterday which meant some relief. It is almost a routine now to pop over to Seonghwa’s, play a video game and unwind – to the point where neither of you ask to confirm, it just happens.
His place is organized and tidy, in a way that you could never hope to replicate. A shelf lined with books is next to the TV, with another one filled with his Legos he builds to unwind. His computer with dual monitors is in the corner, the chair pushed out from where he hastily got up once work finished for the day. The apartment is comforting.
Seonghwa gives you a knowing look and you drop the subject, aware he is right. He runs his fingers through his hair before turning his attention to the TV, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.
“You hear from that client? The one who is clearly interested in you?” He asks suddenly, staring at the TV while booting up Netflix.
Surprised, you glance at him and shift a bit in your spot on the couch. “He’s been texting me a bit.”
Seonghwa makes a noncommittal noise although for one second, you swear his grip on the remote tightens. When he doesn’t say anything further, you’re unsure of where to take the conversation. He’s never shown much interest in who you’ve dated before – in fact, he’s always seemed bored hearing about them, to the point that you barely mention it. You wonder what makes this guy different but something in you holds back asking.
“I gotta pee,” You say instead, and he just nods, swept up in whatever he’s thinking about.
You head down the hall and into the bathroom. You’re about to sit down when you notice there is no toilet paper on the roll. Rolling your eyes, you open the cabinet under the sink and rummage around. Why does he never pay attention to this stuff? Better yet why are you surprised?
The cabinet is as organized as the rest of his place but there is no sign of toilet paper. You try to remember if he stashes it elsewhere but nothing comes to mind. You think of your own cabinet under the bathroom sink and wince. Seonghwa has always been the more organized of you two. You’re lost in thought, pushing aside some cleaning supplies when your eyes land on a strange small black box pushed all the way to the back.
It’s slim and almost glossy, completely out of place to be shoved underneath the bathroom stick. You chew on your bottom lip, curiosity nipping at your brain. Seonghwa isn’t the one for secrets. There’s probably Pokémon cards or something inside that he misplaced.
But you still reach for the box, sitting down on the bathroom floor and opening it quietly. Guilt is poking at you for snooping through your best friend’s stuff. You can’t explain what is even driving you to open something personal that belongs to Seonghwa.
But you do.
There isn’t a lot inside.
One pair of underwear. A house key. A small bracelet.
Your pair of underwear. Your house key. Your small bracelet.
You stare at the items, not comprehending what is in your lap. The pair of underwear is green lace, one of your cuter pairs, and it went missing months ago. Around the time I found him passed out drunk in my bed, a small voice in your head points out.
The memory of the night replays. Coming home late, finding Seonghwa fast asleep in your bed, flopped on his stomach, wrapped up in the bedsheets as if it was his own room. You were frustrated at the lack of respect for your personal space. Seonghwa always had a tendency to do such things; back in college, more than once you’d wake up to him in your dorm with a cup of coffee in hand, somehow getting past security.
But you snapped that night, under a lot of work pressure and startled at finding a shape in your bed in the middle of the night. Waking Seonghwa up, you angrily asked him what he had been doing. Seonghwa slurred his words, said he was drunk and apologized. He sounded panicked and ashamed but that didn’t stop you from demanding your key back. You hadn’t talked to him for three days while he left you a ton of texts and messages apologizing and explaining himself. It was the longest you had gone without speaking to him.
Back in the present, you gingerly reach for the pair of underwear. Why would he take this? Your cheeks feel hot looking at it. Was he…doing something with this? Surely, that would be impossible. For a split second, your brain flashes a mental image of Seonghwa with his hand wrapped around the underwear as he – nope, no.
You drop it back into the box, opting for the bracelet instead. It’s a thin fake gold band with a tiny cubic zirconia diamond in it. You wore it over ten years ago, one night at the summer festival. Your boyfriend at the time just broke up with you and all you wanted to do was stay inside until Seonghwa prodded you to go with him. You wore the bracelet then, with a sun dress, trying to make an effort to look presentable. Seonghwa won a stuffed animal at one of the booths and gave it to you. You don’t remember misplacing the bracelet.
The house key winks knowingly at you.
You shut the box, shoving it hurriedly back in its spot as your heart threatened to explode in your chest. Your head is spinning, wondering what the hell to do. Do you confront him about it? That is what you’re supposed to do. But what do you even say?
You turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face while trying to gather your thoughts. Could it be that Seonghwa had some sort of crush on you? That is absurd. Keeping the bracelet would mean it has been a minimum of ten years he’s been pining for me. It could be longer. That’s enough to drive anyone mad.
In any case, you needed to get out of his apartment and try to calm yourself down. You had a tendency not to think very rationally when emotional and it would be better to put some space away from Seonghwa until you figured out how to broach the subject.
You open the bathroom slowly, trying to collect yourself and steady your breathing. When you enter the living room, Seonghwa is idly watching TV. He glances over at you and then frowns.
“What’s wrong?”
So much for looking casual.
“My boss texted me and there’s some crisis with another client. I need to pop back home and get on a Zoom meeting.” You don’t even know where the lie came from but it leaves your mouth smoothly.
Seonghwa sounds exasperated when he replies with, “You’re kidding.”
“No, sorry. You know how it is. Big girl job.”
“Yeah, fine, I get it.”
You are trying to get to the door without asking him what the fuck but he meets you there, his hand on the door knob. You force yourself to look at him directly – this face you know so well, this face you’ve stared at a thousand times. The same face that won you a stuffed animal at the festival ten years ago. Nothing has changed.
“I’ll message you later,” You say.
“Alright,” He opens the door, “Later.”
It closes behind your back, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there for a few moments.
You have no proof but there’s the sensation of Seonghwa looking through the peephole at you.
*
Not seeing your best friend for two days does nothing to help you figure out how to broach the subject of the tiny black box underneath his bathroom sink. By the time you see Seonghwa Sunday afternoon, the only idea you have is to avoid the discussion completely and opt to veer the conversation into you going on a date with someone.
The sun is lazily cutting across the floor of your living room while you pretend to be making coffee in the kitchen. Seonghwa is talking animatedly from the couch about something that happened the day before. You’re not really paying attention. Your mind keeps flashing to the night he fell asleep in your bed, picturing him rummaging through your underwear drawer to take a pair and slipping it into his pocket. You’re remembering the way he comforted you after getting dumped, convincing you to go to the festival. You can see him against the backdrop of the small white bulbs that were hanging off the booths, running his fingers through his hair while explaining with easy confidence how he could win a stuffed animal.
“Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the memories and you blink, looking up from your place at the kitchen counter to see him standing in front of you, “Are you even listening to me?”
“I’m going on a date Tuesday night,” You blurt out without preamble, “With the client. The project that just finished.”
Seonghwa looks thrown before clearing his throat and replying, “Alright.”
But you keep going. “I think we have a real connection. It could turn into something.”
For the briefest moment, Seonghwa’s face goes startingly blank. There is nothing behind his eyes, and no expression on his face. Then he snaps back into focus, his hands pressing flat against the counter. “That’s good.”
You’re lying, of course, you doubt anything will come from this date. But if Seonghwa is harbouring some sort of intense crush on you, maybe showing him you’re into someone else will fix things. Knock the thoughts out of his head, redirect his focus to something else. Anything to get out of having a horrible discussion with him that could ruin the most solid friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life.
“Yeah, I can let you know how it goes,” You say a little too quickly, “Might be good for me. Like, I haven’t had a relationship in a couple of years. I feel ready for one now.”
Seonghwa pushes himself away from the counter, turning his back to you. “That’s great.” He plops back down on the couch. “Remind me again what I know about this guy.”
You decide to take this opportunity to really sell this man, to truly drive it home that this could be someone that you will be smitten with. You spend the next five minutes prattling on about him. At one point, you sit on the couch, on the opposite side of where Seonghwa is, still enthusiastically talking about a man you’ve barely thought of the entire time you worked with him.
Seonghwa’s face is slightly tilted with his arm propped up on the side of the couch, hand resting against his cheek. He’s looking at the wall, eyes distant. You’re trying to stay the course and see your speech through while at the same time studying his face for any sign that this onslaught of information is settling in. But there isn’t anything, not even a clenching of his jaw.
Running out of breath, you stop speaking and the room lapses into silence. Seonghwa stirs, turning his face in your direction. There it is once more – the same blank stare from earlier. Nothing behind his eyes, gone in a flash, replaced with the same Seonghwa you knew. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling a little off kilter. There is something unfamiliar in that blankness, something that is brand new ground in the relationship with your best friend.
“Well, you sound excited,” He says casually, “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”
Your shoulders relax slightly. Are you overthinking everything? If Seonghwa was upset, you’d notice, right? You’ve seen him angry or annoyed a thousand times before. But the box still tugs at your sleeve. There’s a reason he has that. There is a reason he kept the underwear, the bracelet, the key. But the idea of asking your best friend why he has a box with such contents makes you want to jump off a cliff.
And Seonghwa is…comforting. Maybe it is selfish to think of him that way and to want nothing to change, especially if things are different at his end. But he’s been in your life for so long that the idea of him potentially not wanting to be around you anymore due to a crush forming makes your anxiety spike. He’s been there through everything…You can get stuff back on track. You can fix things without mentioning the box.
You’re sure of it.
*
Typically, the process of getting ready for a date is somewhat fun and enjoyable. You tend to overthink your outfit but other than that, you like listening to music, doing your makeup and wondering how the night will go.
This date doesn’t feel like that, mostly because the entire time you’re getting ready, your mind keeps going to Seonghwa.
You’ve been overanalyzing his behavior since your Oscar winning performance convincing him this date is important. It’s been a few days since your speech and he seems exactly the same. Maybe a little more reserved if you truly look at the small details. But that could be work related, you argue, maybe I need to stop being so self-absorbed and think that everything has to do with me.
But then you think back to the box with your underwear, bracelet and key. Any rational person would just talk to their best friend about it. Instead, you’re forcing yourself to go on this date in hopes of avoiding it because you’re being selfish, putting your feelings before his and wanting everything to remain normal.
Your phone suddenly rings, startling you out of your brooding. It’s your client – no, your date.
“Hello?”
“Hey, listen,” His voice comes out fast and urgent, “I am so sorry but I’m going to have to cancel.”
“What? Why?” It comes out way more demanding than intended but you had been banking on this…
“Some fucking psycho ruined my car! It’s all smashed up! Like, it’s completely fucking ruined!” The client’s voice pitches higher in anxiety and an undercurrent of fear.
You grip the phone tightly while exclaiming, “What?!”
“My tires are slashed, my windows are blown out! The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it! Even the insides are cut up…Christ, I gotta go, okay? I’m really sorry. We’ll reschedule, I promise.”
“No, of course, I understand. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that happened,” You say in shock, “That’s horrible.”
“Thanks. Again, really sorry. I’ll call you, okay?”
The call ends as suddenly as it began. You stare at your phone for a few seconds, feeling a wave of sympathy for your client. It would be horrible to deal with your car getting messed up like that. But this meant the date was pushed back…
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you wondered what to do now. Normally when plans fell through, you’d hang out with Seonghwa. If he found out the date got cancelled and you didn’t come over, he could think you’re avoiding him. But showing up all dolled up for a date that had nothing to do with him could be rubbing his face in things too, couldn’t it?
“I’m so sick of overthinking,” You mumble, leaving your bathroom and trying to find a hoodie to tug over your outfit, yanking it on over your head, adjusting it a bit and then grabbing your bag, “I don’t care.”
You’re lying – you care more than you’d like to admit, both about Seonghwa and whatever is going on with his feelings towards you and the fact deep down you’re aware that you are handling this poorly.
A few minutes later, you’re knocking on the front door of Seonghwa’s apartment. While you do have a key to his place, you weren’t going to violate that boundary even though you knew he wouldn’t see it that way.
No one answers.
You knock again but this time you go, “Hey, Seonghwa?”
Now, you can hear shuffling inside the apartment followed by a muffled, “Just a second!”
The door opens a second later. Seonghwa has clearly just gotten out of the shower. His hair is still soaking wet, dripping onto his black t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out but all that does is send some water droplets flying to the floor.
“What, were you taking a swim?” You joke.
His eyes land on you. “Wasn’t expecting you to come by. I thought you had that date.”
“I did but he had to cancel,” You reply as Seonghwa moves to let you inside, “He called me and told me like…his car got fucked up.”
“His car got fucked up,” He deadpans, raising one eyebrow, “Are you sure he isn’t lying?”
You scoff. “Seriously? Who would lie about that? He told me someone slashed his tires, broke his windows, banged up the doors and shit. So, he needed to go deal with it. We’re gonna reschedule.”
Seonghwa runs one hand through his hair again, seemingly unbothered by how wet it is. Even his t-shirt is damp, clinging to his frame. He flexes his fingers on his right hand, an action that is unfamiliar to you. The muscles in his arms move. You’re staring and don’t know why. It’s like he was mid shower when he got out or something, you think.
“So, I’m the backup plan?” He asks and there’s a strange edge to the sentence, stripping it of any humor.
You blink, thrown by the tone. “No, I didn’t…”
But Seonghwa smiles then, and his voice is back to normal. “It’s cool. I wasn’t doing anything tonight. We can hang out. You wanna watch TV?”
You nod, trailing after him into the comfort of his living room. He goes into the kitchen, opening the fridge and leaning forward to try to find something to drink. His t-shirt lays flat across his back, his black hair curling against the nape of his neck, still dripping onto the tile. You stare at him for a few seconds before settling in on the couch. You’re suddenly acutely aware of the dress you’re wearing although most of it is covered up by the hoodie. He didn’t seem to notice your outfit or makeup anyway. Be serious. He’s seen you on dates a lot of times.
There is the sound of a beer opening as Seonghwa returns to the couch, tossing you a bottle of water as he plops down next to you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes as he takes a swig from the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing while swallowing.
“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin the couch with your hair dripping everywhere?”
He tilts his face in your direction and then rests his head directly on the back of the couch. You roll your eyes.
“Get a towel.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“You’re just trying to annoy me now.”
“Yup.”
The exchange is so normal and familiar that you don’t even realize you’ve sunken onto the couch next to him as he flips through the channels. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, so comfortable that you forget the box stuffed away in Seonghwa’s bathroom for the first time since discovering it.
Apparently, he is comfortable too because at some point, you realize you’re hearing soft snoring. Surprised, you look over at him. He’s dozed off, eyes closed, chest rising and falling peacefully. His mouth is open slightly, head to the side, blissfully unaware of his wet hair. Seonghwa often kept odd hours and it wasn’t so strange for him to fall asleep as soon as he got even mildly relaxed.
Mixed emotions are mingling inside your chest – a concoction of anxiety, peacefulness, and a sense of impending doom. In this quiet moment, it is as though you’re standing on a beach watching a tsunami approach. You’ve been trying so hard to run from the change that swept in with discovering that tiny box underneath the bathroom sink.
You want to lean over and wake Seonghwa up, just ask him what is going on. But you still balk at the conversation and at tarnishing this moment where everything feels so normal.
You wonder if the box is still under the sink.
Maybe you imagined it.
With one last glance at Seonghwa, you get up. Even though you’re walking to the bathroom, you cannot shake the guilt feeling swooping over your chest. You glance over your shoulder. He’s still perfectly asleep.
Seonghwa’s bedroom door is next to the bathroom, slightly ajar. You glance inside out of habit. His bed is perfectly made with a couple of framed posters on the walls. There isn’t anything out of place but…
Maybe it’s the way the light from the hallway lays across the carpet or maybe you’re spending too long looking inside but before you completely pass by something shines for a split second. You slow down and then stop, hovering in the doorway to his room. Your heart is beating quickly now.
One final look in Seonghwa’s direction to ensure he’s sleeping sends you into his bedroom. Now who is breaking boundaries? A little voice in your head remarks cruelly. You cross the carpet towards what caught your eye – the glint of something similar to a knife. The bathroom towel has been quickly thrown over whatever it is.
Bending down, your fingers hover over the towel. Your entire body is screaming for you just to leave and get out of there. You’re snooping, you’re keeping secrets, you’re posturing as if Seonghwa has done something unforgiveable but meanwhile you’re not doing anything better –
You snatch the towel off the object and your heart falls into a pool of ice water.
An axe is laying on the floor. You stare at it while the hair on the back of your neck stands up. “The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it!” The words of your date ring in your head with deafening volume. You think about Seonghwa asking for information about the client and how you babbled endlessly in order to convince him this date was real. You knocked on the door and he hadn’t been ready for you, soaking wet, barely toweled off as if he had been busy…what, hiding the axe under the towel?
This is insane. Do you realize what your brain is jumping to? What are you trying to suggest? That Seonghwa went out to this guy’s place and ruined his car? Do you know what that implies? It implies he’s not just crushing on you. It implies there’s something…wrong. There’s something wrong with him. That’s what you’re thinking about your best friend right now.
The anxiety hits you full force in the chest then. You can hardly breathe, quickly covering up the axe and stumbling to your feet. You didn’t know what to do. You don’t even know what to say to him. The most important thing is getting out of here –
“What are you doing?”
You almost jump out of your skin, whirling around to see Seonghwa’s figure in the doorway. His face is half in shadow and one hand is on the door frame. You take a step back, almost tripping over the axe while straightening up.
“I thought you were sleeping,” You mumble and all efforts to make your voice sound normal fail.
“I woke up.” His voice is different, altered.
Seonghwa takes a step into the room and his face is clearer now. Yet there is that same look you have seen flashes of before. The complete emptiness of expression, the utter blankness behind his eyes. There is nothing familiar about him now.
“Now,” He says in a cold voice, “Who is the one breaking boundaries?”
You swallow hard while your brain fumbles for an excuse. But instead of speaking one, what leaves your mouth is, “Why do you have an axe?”
“Is it illegal to own one?”
“No but it’s a little strange to have it on your bedroom floor underneath a towel.” You try to make it come out like a lighthearted joke but your voice quivers, giving you away.
Seonghwa takes another step. In exchange, you back up, over the axe and closer to his night table. It seems ridiculous to be afraid of your best friend. But it also is ridiculous to have a secret box in the bathroom and an axe on the floor.
His right hand flexes and his jaw is clenched. You get the feeling he is trying to wrangle himself under control – but from what? He has all the qualities of the Seonghwa you know but it’s like someone smeared him with a layer of paint and distorted him.
You try again. “Why do you have the axe, Seonghwa?”
He doesn’t answer. Just moves closer. You’re cornered now. He’s near enough to touch, to grab his shirt and demand he answer you – this man you don’t know, this man you’re realizing you might not know at all.
“Why are you in my room?” Seonghwa makes a small noise, a tsk tsk, before adding, “Gonna have to ask for my key back, I think. Didn’t we just discuss boundaries?”
Up this close, you can better see the blankness in his eyes. You can smell the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash. Your mind is telling you to run but your heart is whispering that this is your best friend, just hug him and talk it out. You don’t know what to do.
You say Seonghwa’s name so softly, just a wisp of a thing against the boiling emotions that are brimming to the surface inside him. “Why do you have some of my things under your bathroom sink?”
Seonghwa recoils, eyes widening in surprise. Your brain tells you to push past him, take this chance and run. But your feet don’t listen. Even now, you want to hear him out. You’re desperate to prove this all some fucked up misunderstanding.
You keep going. “That bracelet. From the night of the festival. And my….my underwear. Why do you have those things? My date calls me, says his car got trashed and that it looks like an axe was taken to the sides and then you’re scurrying around when I knock, hide an axe under a towel. Where were you earlier? Seonghwa, where were you earlier? Why do you have those things? Tell me. If you don’t want me to walk out of here, tell me. If you don’t want to fuck up the friendship, tell me.”
He tilts his face away from you, eyes glassy, looking at nothing. He’s grinding his teeth, something else you’ve never seen him do. Seonghwa’s profile is striking but no longer comforting. When he looks back at you, your lower back nudges into the night table and your hands grip the edge, staring at him.
“I want to fuck up the friendship. I’ve always wanted to fuck up the friendship,” He declares.
You shake your head. “You don’t mean that. That’s not how things are with us –”
“That’s always been how things are with us!” He shouts suddenly, loud enough to make you flinch.
“No! No, Seonghwa, that isn’t true –”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” His eyes are alive now, twisted, no longer blank but not belonging to him either. He’s so close to you now, dangerously so. The warmth of his body is seeping into yours. The rage is swimming off him, strong enough to knock you over. You have never seen Seonghwa so angry before…and certainly never at you.
“I’m not, I’m not lying,” You plead, wanting to touch him but too afraid of making things worse, “I’m not lying. I was just – I was just trying to understand. The box under the sink and the axe…”
“You’re a smart girl, stop pretending like you don’t know,” Seonghwa growls out, “You know why I have those things under the sink.”
“The bracelet –”
Seonghwa is bristling with an intense energy as he replies, “From the festival night! See, you remember. You knew immediately where it was from. It slipped off your wrist when you were at one of the games, landed in the dirt. I took it. I took it because that was the night I thought ‘maybe’. I thought maybe you’d realize how badly I wanted you. And I think you did realize it. But you looked the other way. I love you but fucking hell, you look the other way when anything might change. But I’m patient. I can wait. I can take care of things and I can wait.”
I love you he had said, so effortlessly, so easily. The air is knocked out of your lungs by his casual admission. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice nor care he said it. He just stated it as though it was a fact, like the sun rising every morning. He runs his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed in memories.
“The underwear, do I gotta explain that? Like I said, you’re smart. You know. I didn’t think you were coming home that night. I thought you were out, picked up by a guy or something. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I had shoved the underwear in my pocket before you got there and it just felt so damn good to be in your bed. Everything smelled like you and just…it was just a lot, you know?” His eyes land on you. “It was wrong to lie, tell you I was drunk. It was the fastest thing I could think of.”
“You lied to me?”
“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says seriously and you realize he believes lying about being drunk was the worst thing he did that night, not using your key or stealing your underwear.
“You’re – you’re sorry? You violated my boundaries, you slept in my bed, you stole my…and then you lied to me,” You reply aghast, “It’s like I don’t even know you, Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa is starting to look anguished now. He goes to reach for you, thinks twice and drops his hands to his sides before taking a step back, carefully skirting around the axe. Then he stops, considering it before picking it up and tossing it onto the bed, making you flinch again.
“Don’t act like that,” Seonghwa says sternly, pointing to you, “Don’t do that. It’s me, alright? It’s me. You’ve known me since we were kids. I’m still the same person.”
You swallow hard, unable to reply.
He continues to talk, pacing the room. “Listen, for how long I’ve been in love with you, I think – I think I’m doing alright. I’ve never done anything bad to you. I have always had your back. That one asshole back in college – that professor. The science one. Remember? I made sure to stop that shit before it got out of hand. He was out of bounds asking you out. That’s wrong. You’re a – you’re a student.”
The floor is unsteady underneath your feet. You’re staring at Seonghwa as he paces, wondering if you’re going to faint. “That was you? He couldn’t even come back to work after that. He needed physical therapy. His legs…”
“Okay, in my defense,” He holds out one hand to ward off your criticism, “In my defense, I didn’t realize until later I maybe shouldn’t have brought the bat down so hard.”
Your eyes fall to the axe. You’re almost afraid to ask.
But Seonghwa follows your gaze and he immediately makes a noise of protest. “I didn’t lay a hand on that guy.”
“But…but his car…”
“So what? It’s a car. Which he thought was more important than you seeing that he cancelled the date, by the way,” He is talking so quickly that it is hard to follow his words, “You gave me so much information about him and this idiot – I mean, he’s a real idiot, alright? He had so much public information about himself. I found his address in like, two minutes. I mean, this is not the sort of guy you want to be with. He’s too stupid for you.”
You’re feeling dazed now like you got hit with the axe instead of the client’s car. “How did you not get caught?”
“He doesn’t live in the city. Lives in the suburbs, some big fancy ugly house with a private garage. Slipped in, slipped out.” A thought strikes him and Seonghwa moves towards you, holding his hands out to calm you down as if you’re a scared deer. “But I didn’t hurt him. I wasn’t going to hurt him. You seemed to really like the moron. I just wanted to see how badly he wanted to go on a date with you. If his material items were more important than seeing you.”
Thunderstruck, you reply, “Seonghwa, you trashed his fucking car.”
He scurries over, extremely close to you once again. He looks so warm and inviting again, earnest as ever as he goes, “And he picked it over you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me.”
You can only stare at him, unable to reply. Too much is happening. There is too much new information occurring at once. And the way Seonghwa is standing there, looking so open and honest – the polar opposite of earlier when he came into the bedroom, is making things confusing.
Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, his voice a soft murmur while studying your face. “Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve protected you from is because I love you. I’ve always loved you. The entire reason I exist is to love you. I’d follow you to the end of the earth. I’d follow you into hell. Some part of you had to know that. You felt it, didn’t you?”
Your breathing is quick and shallow. You’re grateful for the barrier of the hoodie because you’re acutely aware of how close you are to your best friend. You’re thinking about him moving to the city, and then into your building. You’re thinking of all the various strange occurrences you tried to steadfastly ignore – people getting injured after upsetting you, job interviews that felt horrible only for them to offer you a position, Seonghwa up all hours of the night on his computer looking exhausted and claiming it was just work, the beleaguered quick expression on his face whenever you mentioned him going on a date…
Seonghwa makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “You’re scared. It’s okay. You never liked change and you were never good with your feelings.”
You squeeze your eyes closed while saying, “I thought you’d think I was smitten with him. That you’d…you’d drop this. And we could go back to normal. I didn’t think you’d…”
“Go back to normal?” He scoffs, “What is normal for you? Ignoring what is right in front of you?” Very slowly and carefully, he brings the back of his hand to your cheek, gently brushing it along your skin. The touch makes your heart thud violently in your chest. Seonghwa looks at you tenderly. “I would be so good to you. I’m a perfect fit for you.”
“Seonghwa…” You aren’t sure if his name is a curse, a prayer or just a whimpered plea to let things stay the same.
He is close enough to your body now that you know what is going to happen next. You should push him away, get out of here and call the police on him.
But you don’t.
Instead, you allow Seonghwa to kiss you.
Your mouth opens underneath his, tasting your best friend in a way that is entirely new. The sensation of his lips on yours is dizzying in the most twisted way possible. Seonghwa’s hand goes to the back of your neck as the kiss grows more intense. His tongue is in your mouth and he makes a tiny noise – like some small bit of him is finally finding relief. You aren’t even sure if you’re breathing, too swept up by the mind-bending things that have occurred in the last ten minutes. As the kiss deepens, you tilt your head to the side, your tongue against his now.
There is a small voice in the back of your head quietly asking you what the fuck are you doing? Not only is this Seonghwa of all people but he’s obviously mentally unstable. But there is a heat swooping through your body and there is a need cracking through something inside you that is made worse by the fact you’re thinking about how he’s always had your back since first meeting.
Your hand is gripping the bottom of his t-shirt. You aren’t sure whose ragged breathing you’re hearing but certainly it cannot be yours because you must’ve died ten minutes ago. That’s the only logical explanation for why you’re now desperately kissing Seonghwa; it just simply couldn’t be happening like this.
The heat is unspooling in your chest now, dropping to your thighs. Seonghwa makes another quiet noise while kissing you, so fragile yet tense, and it is in that noise that the desire and fear smash together and overwhelm you.
You push him away with a small gasp, wiggling free from the confined space and placing your hand against the wall to steady yourself.
“I can’t,” You gasp out – although is directed to you or your best friend?
Looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa, he’s staring at you with blown out pupils while his chest rises and falls rapidly.
“You can’t what?” He drawls coldly, “You can’t what?”
You shake your head while saying, “I should be calling the police on you. You’ve hurt people. You’ve damaged people’s property.”
“Oh, please!” His mood shifts quickly again, his tone hostile. He approaches you, so close again, enough to see that his lips are slightly wet from the kissing. “Stop pretending. Stop pretending you don’t feel it.”
But it’s too much – all of it. You shake your head, afraid of…of what? Seonghwa? No, something else. Something worse.
You’re afraid of yourself.
“I can’t – I have to go,” You say, pushing past him, “I can’t do this.”
In all your years of friendship with him, you’ve never run out of his apartment. There has never been any reason to. But you leave Seonghwa in his bedroom with the axe on the bed, quickly scampering down the hallway. You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if he is following.
But he isn’t.
And you’re not sure how you feel.
*
There is no sleep that night, only replaying the entirety of your friendship with Seonghwa like a horrible movie in your mind. You try picturing him taking the bat to that teacher’s legs but it is an impossible thing to imagine. You wonder what else he’s done. He’s been off, slinking around in the night, breaking into your apartment, sleeping in your sheets.
You roll onto your side, staring at the edge of your bed. What is Seonghwa doing right now? Is he thinking of you? Most likely, since it has become clear that all he thinks about is you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me. His confession bangs around in your brain, refusing to give you any peace.
You’re back at the festival, watching him win you the stuffed animal. Seonghwa’s head is cocked to the side as he thrusts the stuffed animal towards you, grinning. You try to refuse it at first but he shakes his head, saying he has no use for it. His hair is softly glowing against the lights. His fingers brush against your wrist while accepting the gift. You feel a sense of contentment knowing you’re here with him and not crying in your room alone.
What happened the next day? Your ex’s dorm room goes up in flames due to an unattended candle left burning. You remember laughing about karma with Seonghwa.
But it wasn’t karma.
Unless Seonghwa is your karma.
Your brain circles to the one thing you’ve been trying the most not to think about: the kiss. It is something you’ve never ever considered. Kissing Seonghwa had always been something firmly planted in the realm of impossibility. Anyone of sound mind would have called the police on him, and what did you do? You kissed him.
And even worse, something that you can only admit in the dead of night when the world is still and quiet: you liked it. You enjoyed the small noises of relief Seonghwa made, how hot his body temperature ran, how his t-shirt was gripped in your hand. You enjoyed his desperation. You enjoyed his dedication.
What the fuck did that say about you?
*
You’ve never gone this long without hearing from Seonghwa. It’s been four days and you keep expecting him to show up. You think he might even be waiting in your apartment every time you come home from work. You almost wish he was. But he isn’t. His silence is throwing you off.
Maybe Seonghwa is going to skip town, you think in the silence of your bedroom one night. He might think I’m going to turn him in and he’s trying to get ahead of it. The idea of Seonghwa vanishing is eating you up inside. You just want to talk to him.
But now you feel like the stalker, taking the elevator one floor down to his place with his apartment key in your hand. Even if Seonghwa ignores me, I’m gonna go inside, you think, if he can do it to me, I can do it to him. I just want to talk to him. Your mind is flickering to the kiss. You’re thinking about staying up late with him watching movies over the years. You’re remembering how he stopped going to the coffee shop where that woman was interested in him. You can taste him in your mouth.
At the front door of his apartment, you knock. Softly at first. No reply. You knock again. You stand there, debating what to do. The key is heavy in your hand.
What Seonghwa has done is wrong. It’s not just illegal, it’s fucked up.
But no one in your life has ever looked out for you in the way he did and continues to do.
His hair, wet, dripping onto the tile in the kitchen. His right hand flexing. The blank look in his eyes. The axe on the bed.
Still no answer.
The key is heavy in the lock, and the tumblers sound like gunshots as you turn it. Quietly, you push open the door and creep inside Seonghwa’s apartment. There aren’t any lights on. Silence settles across the place like a blanket. You shut the door softly, wondering why you’re doing this.
But still, you continue, creeping down the hallway towards his bedroom. The door is open and moonlight filters in through his bedroom window, leaving a small band of white along the hallway floor. You hover outside Seonghwa’s room before pushing the door open wider to allow yourself in.
He’s sprawled out on the bed, asleep. You stand next to it, looking at the way the moonlight lays across his face. His black hair is messy, lips parted slightly as his breathing goes slow and deep. Some logical part of you knows it is bizarre to be watching your best friend sleep like this after using his key. You’re not any better than he is when you act like this, it scolds you.
But you study Seonghwa’s face. The moonlight washes his skin out. His bone structure is so familiar to you but tonight, you’re thinking that once again he looks like someone scrambled his face up with a large brush and showed you it.
You raise your hand to reach for his shoulder. You’re going to wake him up. To ask him…what? You’re not sure. You just want to talk to him.
But before you can touch him, Seonghwa’s hand reaches out in a flash and grabs your wrist, his eyes startingly empty. You gasp in surprise and almost fall back but he is holding onto you too tightly.
“You’re creeping around my place again. I might start getting the wrong idea,” Seonghwa’s voice sounds taunting, almost venomous, “I might start thinking you want to fuck me.”
You’ve never heard him speak like that.
“I wanted to talk,” You reply but the words sound so absurd given you used his key and were watching him sleep.
“No, you didn’t,” He retorts.
No, you didn’t.
Seonghwa pulls you down and you kiss him again, open mouthed and desperate. You gasp from the force of his lips on yours as though he wants to devour you. He’s half sitting up, his hand on the back of your neck, and you’re getting in his lap now, straddling him as his tongue slips into your mouth. He bites down on your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth until you make a noise and the kiss breaks.
His hands are cupping your cheeks. Seonghwa is looking at you almost deliriously. You hadn’t changed before coming over, just wearing a thin pair of sweatpants which means you can feel him stiff in his own pair, rock hard already, pressing against your thigh.
It’s you who speaks first.
“Why didn’t you talk to me the last few days?” It sounds almost plaintive.
He’s studying your face as his thumbs graze your cheeks. “I was waiting for you to either turn me in or come see me. Whatever ended up happening, I knew what it would mean.”
Breathlessly, you reply, “I wasn’t going to call the cops.”
His thumb is running over your lips. Seonghwa is looking at you mesmerized as if he has never seen something so wonderful as you in his lap. No one has ever looked at you in this way.
“Everything I did, I did because I love you,” His voice sounds like a raw wound, “Do you get that now?”
“I get it now,” You reply, knowing it’s wrong, knowing it’s fucked up, knowing you must have lost it.
His grip on your chin tightens ever so slightly as his eyes grow intense. “I was looking out for you from the moment we first met. I have always protected you. I’ve always made sure no one would harm you and if they did, I ensured they got what was coming to them. You deserve the best. You always have,” His voice is hurried, emotional, “I always have tried to give you the best because I love you.” His fingers dig into your skin. “Do you get that? Do you understand how much I love you? God, sometimes, you would look right through me and it felt like the entire world was ending. Like the ground was just shattering underneath my feet. But I never dreamt of leaving your side. I love you too much even if you didn’t feel the same. I told myself I would just protect you until I died.”
His voice is pure agony, a crackling and fizzling of the years that have gone by spilling out from in between his lips. “You looked at me with such fear the other day when you were in my room, staring at the axe. As if…as if I would ever hurt you. It’s so absurd. I would never do anything to you. Everything I do is because I love you.”
“Seonghwa,” You breathe out shakily, “Your hand…. it’s too tight…”
His eyes drop to the way he’s gripping your face and he releases his hand immediately, apologizing. Your head is swimming, torn between the logical mind telling you to leave and your irrational heart pulled by his words, his love, his promises and protection.
But he feels so good underneath you.
Your lips find his once more and whatever remains of Seonghwa’s speech dies in his mouth, lost in the groan he emits when you touch him again. He shifts slightly so that his leg is pressing against your pussy and you react by grinding down slightly on his knee, just enough to feel pressure against your clit. Your breath hitches as Seonghwa’s hands roam across your body – fondling your tits through your shirt, down across your hips before resting on your waist, pushing you down on his knee.
He’s kissing and biting your neck, hard enough to leave marks. Your hands are in his hair while you grind on his knee. At one point, he bites so hard that you gasp and you swear that he chuckles quietly. Seonghwa pulls away, looking at you with an expression of mingled lust and something more possessive.
“You’ll have to cover that up for your date.” His words are like stone but there is a flicker of toying amusement behind his eyes.
“What date?” You mumble, slightly dazed, too turned on by the way he’s touching you.
Seonghwa laughs, his teeth like daggers in the flash of moonlight before pulling you towards him. His kiss is greedy, one hand sliding under your t-shirt to cup your breast. You’re not wearing a bra, having come over here quickly without putting much thought into it. You can feel him smirk against your lips, as if the lack of one is telling him something you’re not privy to.
He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump. His other hand is on your lower back, steadying you on his knee as you continue to chase your orgasm. It’s evident Seonghwa isn’t going to try to stop you. He leans his head down, tugging your shirt up so that he can wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking on it hard. He switches to the other one, biting on it. You’re making soft noises, a cross between a plea and pleasure, dimly aware that to be doing this with Seonghwa means forever ruining the very friendship you were once so keen on saving. But maybe it never stood a chance. Maybe time just caught up with the dynamic.
When Seonghwa pulls away from your tits, he grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him while demanding, “I want to watch you cum. I want to see what you look like when you’re cumming. I’ve pictured it so many times in my head – no, don’t stop. Don’t slow down. There, good girl. Oh, do you like that? When I call you that? Is that gonna make you cum?”
You manage to nod even though his hold on you is tight. He looks different in the moonlight, different in the manner he’s openly staring at you without hiding his feelings. There’s an energy rolling off him that you’ve never felt before, something bubbling to the surface and spilling out – who he really is. Who he hid for so long. You feel like a small bug crawling into a Venus fly trap but you don’t want to turn away.
Your orgasm starts then, after Seonghwa calls you good girl in that voice of his that is dripping honey while hiding a dagger. You can’t believe that you just got off from grinding on your best friend’s knee but you barely have time to come down from the climax before he is slipping your shirt off over your head and tossing it to the side.
He’s groping your tits, rolling his thumbs across your nipples, in seemingly no hurry to fuck you. You thought the orgasm would bring clarity, give your mind release from the problematic thoughts you’ve been having about your messed up best friend and allow yourself to exit the situation.
But you feel no such thing. Instead, you find yourself removing his shirt as well before kissing him hungrily while your hands press against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and in one swift motion, he has you against the pillows underneath him.
Seonghwa is hot to the touch, his skin almost feverish as your fingers trail down his shoulders and along his arms. He’s moving downwards, his tongue across your nipples, down your stomach, obscenely leaving a trail of his salvia until he reaches your sweatpants.
Hooking his thumbs into the band, he yanks them down, leaving you in just your underwear. He nudges your thighs apart, pressing one finger along your pussy.
“You’re soaking wet,” Seonghwa drawls, sounding both pleased and tormented, “Underwear is fucking glued to your pussy.”
There is something fucked up and thrilling hearing your best friend talk like this. Seonghwa has always been so nice, so thoughtful over the years. Even when he would discuss his dates, he never dove into any details that would come off disrespectful. But now, mask off, it’s evident he’s perverted and unhinged on top of being psychotic. So why do I like it so much?
Seonghwa abruptly grabs the sides of your underwear and rips it with his hands. There is a loud tearing of fabric, his eyes alight while doing so, and then you’re exposed to him. Instinctively, you squirm, trying to close your legs. But Seonghwa is faster and his hands are on your thighs, keeping you open in front of him. His eyes look upwards to meet yours.
“No, I want to see how wet your pussy is from me. No hiding now. I’ve daydreamed about tasting your sweet cunt for far too long.” He turns his gaze back downward, one finger against your wet slit. “God, look at how fucking good you look,” The desperation in his voice is obvious, “What a perfect pussy.”
Seonghwa leans forward and his tongue is in your hole with a pornographic slurping noise as he tastes you for the first time. His nose bumps against your clit as he buries his face in between your thighs, trying to get his tongue as far as possible inside you.
“Fuck,” His words are muffled, “You taste so fucking good. You taste exactly how I knew you would. Can’t believe it took this long to taste your sweet cunt,” His hold on your thighs tightens, “Drives me fucking crazy knowing others had it before me. They didn’t deserve it.”
His tongue drags along your folds until he places a kiss on your clit, just enough to make you shiver. You know that you shouldn’t look down. It will make the entire situation feel entirely too real. But you don’t listen and instead prop yourself on your elbows slightly, just enough to look down at Seonghwa in between your legs.
His eyes catch yours and he lewdly flicks his tongue across your clit just to drive the point home that this is happening and you’re enjoying it. You sharply inhale, your hand grabbing onto the bedsheet. He closes his eyes, focusing on rolling his tongue over your clit slowly, just enough to drive you crazy. You cannot tear your gaze away from Seonghwa of all people doing this to you, making you feel this good. In the moonlight, his shoulders almost glow, and some of his hair has fallen in front of his eyes.
While Seonghwa is working your clit, he slips one finger inside your hole, meeting no resistance from how wet it is. You squirm, head rolling back a little from the new sensation. Still, he doesn’t miss a beat, continuing his soft licks on your clit while pumping his finger. Your eyes flutter closed. It had been a long time since someone ate your pussy this good. It is just fucked up that it’s your best friend.
Seonghwa pulls his finger out of you, eliciting a whine that would be embarrassing in any other case but he quietly shushes you. “Needy girl, you want my tongue back on your clit? Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
You look down at him, your cheeks warm. His eyes are devious, a smirk on his face, making his cheeks stand out more than usual as he shakes his head to get his hair out of his face.
You nod and he looks gravely serious. “No, tell me. I want to hear you tell me.” His voice is ice cold, allowing no argument. You’ve seen him this way a few times, always when he is angry and never at you. No, always at someone who did something mean to you though, the little voice whispers.
“I want your tongue back on my clit,” You say meekly because begging Seonghwa for such a thing is a foreign concept.
He stares at you for a second or two longer before suddenly spitting on your clit and smearing it in with his thumb. Your hips buck automatically from the sudden pleasure.
“You’re so sensitive,” He murmurs, “Gonna be so easy to make you cum again.” Seonghwa sounds lost in his daydreams and you cannot fathom how many times he’s thought about this.
His finger is back in your cunt and his tongue is flicking across your clit faster now. He adds a second digit, pumping them hard and fast, stopping occasionally to wiggle them deep inside you. His face is pressed against your pussy, sucking on your clit and sometimes stopping just to spit on it again. Seonghwa is groaning when he’s eating you out, as if he is driven to intoxication from the taste of you.
You can no longer prop yourself up on your elbows, instead sinking back down among the pillows. One of your hands reaches down for Seonghwa, his hair wrapping around your fingers as you desperately hold onto him so he doesn’t stop. He makes a noise of approval, fucking you harder with his fingers.
And it feels just too good and it feels even worse because it’s Seonghwa, the person you know the most and the person you don’t know at all. When your climax starts, his name leaves your lips broken and shattered, forever changed by what happened tonight.
When Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes are ablaze. You’re disoriented from cumming so hard two times already but he pulls you towards him. His lips crush yours in a sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue. When the kiss breaks, there’s a long strand of spit connecting the two of you. He’s holding the back of your neck again, looking at you as though you’re trapped in his web.
“Oh, my name sounds so good like that.” He rubs his thumb across your lips, and the spit makes a mess, “You’re such a pretty thing.”
You like the way Seonghwa talks to you as if you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. But you suppose to him, you are. You’re feeling an aching desire to have him inside you, to know what it would be like to be fucked by him. Tentatively, you reach for his groin, pressing your hand against the tent. He inhales sharply but gives a firm shake of his head.
“Not yet,” He brushes your hand away, “You’re going to cum again.”
Surprised, you open your mouth to say something but before you can, he places two fingers on your tongue. Without questioning it, you wrap your lips around them and then immediately wonder why you didn’t even hesitate. You swirl your tongue around his fingers while he watches, entranced at the sight.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty. I can’t get enough of you. Now, sit on my face.”
Seonghwa pulls his fingers out of your mouth, snapping his fingers at you after he issued his command. You’re not even thinking anymore, lost completely to whatever pull you feel towards him and the promises of more pleasure. He’s on his back, motioning for you to hurry up. You try to carefully straddle his face but he makes a noise of impatience, reaching upwards to grab your hips and yanking you down so that your pussy is against his face.
His tongue dives into your hole and you make a noise of surprise, gripping the headboard of his bed. He’s eating your pussy like a man starved, not stopping to let you adjust at all. His hands are holding onto your hips, keeping you in place as he brings his tongue swooping up to your clit, swirling around it. This time is a lot more urgent as though it is more for him than you.
The sounds of Seonghwa eating your pussy sounds graphic but it is the way he is moaning while doing it that is turning you on. You like how he sounds, so desperate and his voice muffled, and when you move your hips gently against his face, he makes a noise to let you know to keep going.
So you do, grinding against his face. He moves his tongue back to your hole and you can feel his nose against your clit while rocking your hips. Your clit is growing sensitive from all the overstimulation and sometimes your hips bounce a little when it becomes too much. Seonghwa notices this and instead of giving you a break swoops his tongue back over your clit, flicking it hard and fast.
Your grip tightens on the headboard but you’re close to cumming again. Your thighs are shaking, panting with your tongue poking from in between your lips as you ride his face. With one last flick of his tongue, you moan out his name loudly, unable to stop from how much you’re working your pussy against his face. This orgasm is somehow even better than the earlier ones although it leaves your body shaking. You slide off him, falling onto the bed, trying to catch your breath.
Seonghwa sits up, kicking off his sweatpants. With relief, you realize he’s going to fuck you. You’re unsure that you could handle another orgasm again so soon after the others. Your head is dazed and thighs sore and you’re pretty sure that your pussy is a mess of your juices and Seonghwa’s spit.
He’s stroking his length, drinking in the sight of your naked body on his bed with the same fascination of someone viewing a beautiful painting. He shakes his hair out of his face again while getting to his knees, his hand still wrapped around his cock.
“You’re gonna cum around my cock next.”
You give a small shake of your head, out of breath. “I don’t think I can cum anymore.”
“Of course you can,” Seonghwa replies simply while positioning himself over your body.
His skin against yours is heavenly and hellish, weighted by the knowledge you’re tumbling into bed with your best friend who isn’t as stable as previously believed. But what does it say about you that it won’t leave your mind? He’s propped up over you, studying your face with such intensity that you break eye contact, feeling exposed. His cock is pressing at your entrance as your hands go to his sides, gingerly touching his hot skin.
Seonghwa lowers his face down to kiss you while sliding inside your wet entrance. You arch your back, fingers digging into his waist as he enters you easily. His lips are back on your neck, emitting a sigh that is a mingle of relief and tension all at once.
His words are muffled as he goes, “You feel so good. Your pussy is made for me. I was meant to be in this pussy every night.”
Seonghwa is curled around you, taking his time. He’s moving slowly, lost in the sensation of your walls tightening around his cock. Your hands glide upwards to his hair once again, bunching it in between your fingers as you wrap your legs around his waist.
When Seonghwa speaks again, he sounds lost, as if he isn’t even present in the moment. “I love you so much,” He grunts, going still for a second to collect himself before thrusting a little harder, “I love you so fucking much. I’d do anything for you, I’d do anything to be in your cunt like this. You just had to ask. But you never did.”
Your body is warm all over, each nerve in your body responding to his passion in a way that you didn’t think was possible. The voice in your head that has been pointing out how wrong it’s been all night is eerily silent. Instead, you tilt your head so that Seonghwa looks at you. Your foreheads are touching and when you speak, your lips graze his.
“Tell me what you’d do for me,” You plead softly.
His breath catches, his cock buried inside you to the hilt while he replies, “Anything. You know that. You already know some of what I’ve done. And I don’t regret any of it. I’d do it again,” He starts moving his hips faster now, plunging his length in and out of your soaking wet hole while his breathing grows laboured, “I’d do anything for you.”
The words make your head light. You’re moving your hips in time to his thrusts, tugging on his hair to let him know to keep going. Hearing your best friend make noises of pleasure, noises you’re not supposed to hear from him, is making you only desire more.
Seonghwa shifts positions, just enough so that your legs are bent back so he can hit your sweet spot with every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to the bedsheets once more, digging into them as he fucks you.
“You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock,” He grunts and runs his hand through his hair quickly with one hand to get it out of his eyes.
The gesture, so familiar, one you’ve seen him do often, strikes you in the chest. His desperation is evident in his eyes, in his voice, in every action he’s taken since he grabbed your wrist earlier. This is still your best friend, the realization dawning, this is still Seonghwa.
You’re just seeing all aspects of him now.
You aren’t sure what compels you to reach for his hand but you do, sliding it up to your neck. His eyes light up at what you’re requesting, that shark’s grin returning so quickly that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hand tightens around your neck while he fucks you. The muscles on his arm tightens; he pushes you back against the pillows while fucking you hard and fast.
“I’d do anything for you,” He repeats, voice breaking, “I’d have done anything you ever wanted if you just asked.” The pleasure is overtaking him and his mind is wandering, jumping from topic to topic, telling you all the things he’s ever thought about. “Fuck, my hand around your neck…” He grips you harder and you make a small noise which only drives his cock harder in your hole. “You look like a ragdoll taking my dick with your lips parted like that. I watched you through your window last week. You looked so tired. I thought – fuck, I thought about my hands around your neck, choking you while I fucked you into oblivion so you could sleep.”
I watched you through your window last week.
The angle and his hand on your neck is bringing you to another climax which you didn’t think could be possible. You can barely breathe, can barely move your hips to meet his thrusts. You’re so close to finishing, watching how Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your face, how intensely he is staring at you, no expression on his face as he fucks you.
With the little air you have left, you ask the question again. “Tell me what you’d do for me.” The words are so soft that you aren’t sure anyone else but Seonghwa could have heard them – he’s just too in tune with you.
“I’d fucking kill for you.”
And you’re cumming on his cock then. Seonghwa releases his grip on your neck so he can hear your hoarse moans. He hasn’t stopped fucking you, moving his hips the entire time you’re orgasming. You keep saying his name, your hips moving to meet his thrusts, making more noise than you ever have before.
Seonghwa pulls out, wiping the sweat from his brow before leaning forward, grabbing your face and going, “Open your mouth.” You do immediately and he spits in your mouth lewdly before kissing you hungrily. When it ends, he says roughly, “I’m gonna cum in your cunt now. Get on your knees.”
Your body protests a little while doing so, tired and sore from cumming so much and being fucked so hard. But once your ass is in the air, Seonghwa’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. He doesn’t waste any time and you know he must be dying to finish. You’re not used to someone putting their pleasure last like this.
The change in angle feels so good and you moan, prompting Seonghwa to go, “You’re cock starved, I love it. I love hearing you want more of me.” His hands slide to your lower back. “I love hearing you want me and none of those idiots you’ve wasted time on. All those fucking idiots. Made me sick.” He’s slamming his hips against your ass, his balls smacking against your pussy with each hurried thrust. “Makes me fucking sick to think of them touching you instead of me. They never deserved you. They never understood you, not like I did.”
You’re sinking into the bed, the weight of his hands on your lower back giving you no choice, your ass high in the air now as Seonghwa fucks you mercilessly. His voice is slurring at the edges, his words hazy like small things being tugged towards the light for the first time.
“I knew they couldn’t fuck you like I could or take care of you like I could. Just idiots, circling around you and I tried so hard to be nice. I wanted to be nice to those idiots because of you. Everything I do is because of you because I love you so much. F-fuck,” He does a particularly hard thrust and groans, “I wasn’t perfect. I knew I was doing bad things. Getting them fired from jobs. Snooping through their emails. Slashing their tires. I knew –” His breath caught, and his hands move to your ass, gripping it hard enough to leave marks. “I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. I was in love with you for so long and sometimes it’s enough to drive a man crazy.”
Seonghwa is fucking you so hard that you can’t even move. You lay against the bed, taking his cock, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head from how it good it is. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. The way he’s fucking you combined with his speech is making your head utterly blank – it just feels so good. All of it feels so good. You think your tongue might be poking out from between your lips. All you know is he’s going to make you finish again.
“I’m gonna fuck you like this every night, I’m gonna – fuck. I’m gonna take care of you and I’m going to fuck you and no one is ever going to bother you again because you’re mine now. Tell me you’re mine, I want to hear you tell me.”
Using the last of your energy, you moan out, “I’m yours, I belong to you, I’m yours.”
Seonghwa grunts, giving one last thrust while going, “Now take my load in that sweet cunt of yours.”
His cum is warm in your cunt as he empties his balls, filling you up until it’s leaking out of your hole. You’re finishing again as well, perfectly in sync with your best friend. You’ve fallen on the bed, making an unholy amount of noise from the intense orgasm, completely overstimulated. Seonghwa has pulled out of your cunt, leaving a long strand of cum along your lower back as he finishes.
Your eyes are closed, feeling completely fucked out. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth; you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. Seonghwa shifts behind you, sliding off the bed, leaving the room. A few moments later, he returns and you can feel a towel along your back, cleaning you up before he shifts, sliding closer to your body.
Seonghwa’s arms carefully wrap around you, pulling your body towards him. You curl up against his chest, eyes closing. He’s kissing the top of your head, his fingers trailing along your back in gentle touches. All his earlier energy is gone, depleted, and now he is soft and inviting.
You tilt your face to look at Seonghwa, reaching upwards to graze his jawline with your fingertips. He kisses them too. Would it be so wrong to have everything with him? To be so adored and loved with someone who has known you forever? His eyes are cutting through your defenses, nuzzling into the soft spot of your brain that should know better.
Your lips find his.
A cloud covers the moon.
*
You’re wearing just one of Seonghwa’s shirts, sitting on the edge of his bed in the morning light. He left twenty minutes ago to get coffee from your favourite spot, leaving you alone in his apartment.
You’re thinking about him.
You’re thinking about the soft kisses he gave you upon waking, his smile that you know so well, the way he looked shirtless in the morning light.
He had cupped your cheek, said he was going to get coffee and you felt a pang at him leaving, even for just a little while. Even just for twenty minutes.
Relief swoops through you when the front door opens, and Seonghwa calls your name. He comes down the hallway and stops in the doorway. His jacket is already removed, just wearing a hastily thrown on Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He places one coffee cup on his dresser, running his fingers through his hair with his hand. He’s smiling, sitting down next to you.
“I missed you,” He admits bashfully, holding onto your coffee, his eyes dropping to your lap, “Should I keep it?”
Your hands are curled around the handle of the axe. You look at the blade; your reflection is distorted. He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering at you, waiting for your choice. Everything with Seonghwa is your choice because he loves you so much. He doesn’t question that you’ve been sitting in his bed, holding his axe, lost in thought.
You’ve been thinking about what is right, what’s wrong and what you want.
You kiss his forehead, and he makes a noise of contentment.
“You should keep it,” You declare, shifting the axe into his lap carefully. “Just in case.”
Seonghwa grins cheerfully.
“Yeah, just in case.”
the end.
#ateez fics#ateez smut#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa fics#seonghwa smut#the heart's filthy lesson#kpop fic#100 notes#500 notes#1000 notes
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LET IT ONCE BE ME | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [7]
Description: The THREE times she waits + the ONE time she doesn't have to.
length: 17.9k
trigger warnings: criminal minds gore + violence. jealousy. talks of sex and male and female anatomy. they get horny for one another basically. talks of Maeve + day of the dead. yearning idk? mention of one twin absorbing the other one in the womb (sorry if this is taken the wrong way but I conferred with my friend who did this when she was a foetus and she said it's not offensive and is okay to talk about so?)
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‘Let it once be me, who do I have to speak to
About if they can redo the prophecy?’
The one where they pretend to be married
“I will not be exploited in my own home,” Bugsy chided, the faint smell of burning toast filling the small kitchenette. The butter knife sat ready in her hand, salted spread dripping down the handle where she’d been busy making breakfast before she had been called.
He blinked back at her, unamused.
“No. You cannot just scream at me whenever you want something from me. This relationship is toxic,” She huffed, turning back to butter her toast with the thick goodness. Sometimes she loathed living with three boys who had her wrapped around their fingers.
The second piece of bread popped out of the toaster, which she quickly grabbed and began spreading, her fingers gripping onto the crusts gently as she did so. The squealing started again just as she readied herself to take the first bite, and she whirled around to see the two orange eyes that stared at her from on top of the counter.
“Sergio, stop. You’ll get Niko all wound up-” She hadn’t even finished her sentence when Spencer shuffled into the kitchen, his hair mussed from sleep, his long plaid pyjama bottoms skirting high up his ankles where he’d impossibly hit another growth spurt and forgot to find better fitting clothes. Niko darted in between his legs, rushing to jump up on the breakfast bar, where Sergio was already interrogating Bugsy for more treats, a low yowl leaving his throat at the thought of being left out of feeding. “You boys are driving me crazy, no more biscuits for today-”
The yowl grew in decibels, a second one symphonying it, and she rolled her eyes, ignoring the whiney babies, turning to hand Spencer his piece of toast, crust already cut off and split into halves the way he liked it.
“I warned you not to treat them when I’m not here, they’ve become spoiled brats,” She huffed, though she felt her entire body warm up when she looked at his doe eyes, still half idled with sleep as he watched her swan around his kitchen, their kitchen technically since she had all but moved in to his little apartment meant for two housemates.
But they weren’t just house mates. They weren’t even dating. But she knew he wanted to. Because he loved her.
“How could you expect me to say no, they’re so compelling,” He said, his voice gravelly where he’d lightly snored, as much as he always denied he did, fussing Niko behind the ear with long, gentle fingers. He took the plate out of her hand, his eyes swirling with a moved expression when he saw she’d cut his crusts off, his gaze snapping back up to where she’d sweeped her hair out her face, a large shirt and a pair of his clean boxers adorning her figure, “Thankyou,”
He hadn’t said the three magic words since, neither of them had. But they felt it. The weird static that had been thick in the air between them before was crackling along their skin with every glance, like they were both thinking the same thing.
I love you, and you love me.
He smiled at her warmly, the urge to grab her by her face and kiss her skin all over almost overwhelming him, because he counted himself lucky every single day. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. He heard it in every heart beat, like a mantra that his chest clung to since the words had spilled from her soft lips. She was waiting for him, for his head to settle with the idea that Maeve was gone, and he could let her go and not feel terrible about it; waiting for him to make the first move.
“Coffee?” He asked, watching her eyes soften as they trailed over his face, and he worried he looked a little worse for wear since he’d rolled out of bed and headed towards the source of the girl he loved arguing with someone in the kitchen even though that someone had turned out to be the greedy bastard they loved dearly.
He knew he was the luckiest guy in the world to have her waiting on him, and he never let himself forget it.
“Yes, please,” She said, and he brushed past her, close enough for it to be on purpose when their arms touched, his hands busying themselves in between the plate and munching on the first bite of breakfast, because he didn’t know what he might do if they spent one more second looking at one another like that.
She watched him move towards the kettle she’d sent him for Christmas when she was in London. After using one for two weeks she’d seen the light and realised he would love the nifty little invention. Her arm burned where he’d touched as if he’d taken a flame to her skin, her chest boiling up with every single thing she could think to tell him, like how good his hair looked when he didn’t do much with it, or how hot his voice sounded like that, or that she really really did love him the way she’d never even thought possible outside her silly romance novels, that she’d never believed Pip when he’d told Estella; “You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read,” and yet when she thought of it now, watching Spencer busy himself shovelling sugar into two mugs, it made entire perfect sense.
She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew him, and she didn’t ever want to know.
She opened her mouth to say something, perhaps to say those three little words again, or just to tell him he smelled good even when he hadn’t put any deodorant or aftershave on, but her phone’s ringtone cut her off.
Already knowing it was going to be Penelope with a new case, she flicked the call on to speaker phone, “What you got for me, baby girl?” She said, trying to make her voice as deep as it would go, and she heard Spencer snickering where he was stirring hot water into the instant coffee.
“Was that supposed to be Morgan?” Pen’s voice replied, a small chuckle of her own evident even through the digital tone.
“I thought that was pretty good,” Bugsy replied, stuffing the last of the toasted bread into her mouth.
“I thought he was right in the room with us for a moment there,” Spencer chimed in, humouring her, as he also took an enormous bite from his breakfast, knowing they were more than likely about to be called in and their game of house, one where they flustered every time they spoke, was going to be over, “I was like, woah, Morgan, when did you get here-”
“Alright, my little rascals. We have a case, Hotch wants everyone in,” Penelope said, no doubt already paging through JJ, “No more coffee for either of you, you’re both being weird enough as it is,”
“Definitely not,” Spencer said, sliding the mug of milky, sweet caffeine over to Bugsy who smiled at him wickedly.
“Wheels up in twenty, Garcia,” The woman added in the same voice as before, Spencer laughing with a shake of his head and moving to stand behind her, his chest pressed against her back, his arm winding around her waist to give her a small, affectionate squeeze on the hip.
Penelope sighed, already accepting that their mercurial attitudes weren’t going away any time soon, the sudden mood change entirely odd to the rest of the team who had no idea that they had almost kissed just one week ago. To everyone else, they just seemed to have bounced back to normal, reverted back to Bugsy and Spencer; attached at the hip, only the eye contact and secretive smiles had been dialled to a hundred. The line went dead, and her head shot to look at him, where his hand had yet to move, and it was scoldingly hot against the soft fat that gathered at her hips.
“I’ll get your good shirt, I put it out to dry yesterday,” She said, her voice suddenly much less brave than it had been when she saw his eyes crinkling with a small smile.
He nodded, and she caught his gaze trailing down her nose, darting over her lips for a second in a way that made her chest rev like a Ferrarri out of gear. She felt her breath catch in her throat when he looked back up to her eyes, his forest hues entrancing like he was playing some silent flute song and she was a snake dancing under his orders.
He took a second to realise they were standing in his kitchen, his body pressed against hers like he hadn’t even realised they were so close, like he’d just gravitated to her that way, like he couldn’t stop it even if he’d tried to. He’d had a taste of nectar, and he was a drunk man ever since.
Spencer wrangled a hold of himself, allowing himself to stroke the back of her head lovingly, and pressing a kiss to her crown, before he stepped away from her, and the siren song dropped, the two of them dispersing to get ready for the case.
Bugsy swore she could hear her heart pounding the entire drive to headquarters.
–
“I think the real question is why married couples?” Hotch mused, a steaming cup of black coffee sitting in front of him on the jet, his nose in the file on his lap.
Bugsy scanned over the manilla folder in her hands, her legs swinging rhythmically beneath the table she sat on, Rossi to her left, her own second cup of coffee squeezed between her thighs. It was a heavy case for a weekend morning, three married couples found slashed and dumped together, the UnSub showing no signs of slowing or stopping.
“If he’s a sadist, having a witness to his torture heightens his pleasure,” Alex added, her lips pursed in contemplation, her hair primped surprisingly neat considering they’d been called in with little to no notice on a Sunday.
“Israel Keyes kidnapped a husband and wife at gunpoint, got them in a car, took them to a remote location, and then killed the husband in front of the wife,” Spencer said, trying not to look straight at Bugsy when he felt her eyes on him.
He’d never been one to keep a good poker face, never been good at hiding how he felt especially when he was happy. And she made him happier than he deserved to be. He knew their little arrangement would become glaringly obvious to the rest of the team if he let himself look at her. he had no control of his face when it came to her, how he felt his eyes soften, his lips turn up into a dopey smile, his hands itching to touch her just to confirm she was real.
He saw her head tilt down, into her lap as she tried desperately to focus on the words on the page, but he caught the small smile that she kept for herself, and he had a feeling she was struggling just as much as he was.
“Keyes was a sexual sadist, though,” Rossi interjected, his hands wrapped around a scolding cup of the green tea Penelope had bought them because she’d read of the stress relief benefits. They’d taken it, but David and Bugsy were the only ones who had tried it, “This guy, I don’t know,”
“Cutting a husband and wife to death, it’s more like he’s mocking their marriage bond,” JJ said, her bluebell hues dancing to Bugsy when the girl chimed in.
“Mutilating both of them, killing them together, it’s like the idea of couples and happy marriage is a trigger for him; it’s personal. He wants to make them pay for their happiness, likely because something’s stopping him from having it too,” She said, taking a long sip of her coffee, Rossi nodding along with her.
“That’s where my head’s at. ‘You took each other for better or worse, now I’m going to show you worse’,” He said, leaning back against the table, his shoulder nudging the younger girl.
Derek stroked a hand over his stubbled beard, “His home life’s probably a wreck, at least one ex-wife, not to mention mom and dad,”
“Alright we need to hit the ground,” Hotch said, flicking a glance at the youngest agent where she was all but inhaling her sweet beverage, “Prentiss and Reid, I want you mapping out a geographical profile,”
She nodded, her eyes slowly trailing to Spencer’s as Hotch distributed jobs around the team, but her head subconsciously tuned his stern voice out into static. Because when she looked up at his face, he was already staring at her, and the sound of her heartbeat racing crawled its way back into her ear, the thrumming so loud she was sure David could hear it too, she might as well have held a megaphone to her mouth and announced “Spencer Reid, you make me so nervous in the good kind of way,”
His hazel eyes trailed over her face, her expression unreadable as she scrambled to keep a lid on her feelings, and she wondered if this was where the phrase ‘Don’t shit where you eat,’ came from, because him so much as looking at her wiped her mind completely, which was not ideal for an agent working on a case. But she couldn’t help it, he was enchanting, and she guessed he was having just as much of an inner quarrel as he looked away from her, the apples of his cheeks and tips of his earlobes turning a strawberry ice cream pink.
She had no idea how she was going to make it through the rest of the day so close to him.
–
“First couple were last seen on the corner of Hill Avenue, Bella Mia Italian restaurant,” Bugsy read from her scrawled notes, as Spencer took a purple white board pen to the map of Detroit. Drawing a circle of a 5 centimetre radius around the little dot, he kept his eyes ahead of him. Hearing her pace behind him, he didn’t need to look up to know she was chewing her cuticles again.
“Stop biting,” He chided lightly, hearing a guilty silence where he knew she’d caught herself with embarrassment. He tried not to show his amusement, knowing it would only make her feel worse, he bit down a smirk and raised his pen back to the map, “Next one?”
She’d been on edge all day. He would have probably brushed it off as caffeine jitters seeing as she was on her fourth cup already, but Spencer knew her too well to know her tolerance was so high she had about two more mugs in her before she’d start to crash.
He knew what it was, the memory of her skin beneath his lips burning his cheeks all over again, the look in her eyes when he’d been close enough they were sharing breath. He knew what it was because he felt it too. It was like their confession had set off a ticking time bomb, one that neither of them had the countdown to, and the clicking of every passing second sounded oddly like a pulse in their throats. To put it short, just the sound of her footsteps was making his skin pimpled with gooseflesh.
“Uh, next one is Bowlarama, about ten stores down from there, Couple number two were seen getting milkshakes and heading towards the parking lot before they went missing,” She recited, her fingers firmly clutching the paper in her hand to resist the urge of gnawing at her nails again. Why was she so nervous? She lived with Spencer, ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with Spencer, spent almost all her evenings either playing chess or watching movies with Spencer, or on the odd occasion he found a book in reach he hadn’t read yet, he’d read out parts to her he found particularly engaging to those million, trillion, billion neurological pathways of his.
The squealing of the pen against the board was the only thing keeping her head in the case, Spencer’s messy handwriting dotting around the map with points of interest, and she begged her brain to kick into gear the way it normally did, tried everything to yank herself out of the head fog she’d found herself lost in where thoughts of him emerged through like Mr Darcy strolling through those clouded moors, like how his voice sounded when he smiled, how his hand looked gripping that pen, how his body was lithe and handsome even from the back.
She shook her head, jamming her face back into her files, to the gory images of couple number three, mutilated and bloody, and reminded herself she had a job to do.
Get it together, Prentiss.
“Couple number three’s last known location was on the corner of Whittier Avenue, outside a wine bar named Blue Mates,” Bugsy read out, hoping her hot cheeks would dissipate before he noticed, “It seems couples out on date night really agitate this guy,”
Spencer hummed, focused on his third circle, the three of them overlapping with almost precise measurements. It was hard not to notice the pattern to them. He heard her draw nearer with his profile complete, and they stood beside one another, so close they knocked hands when they leaned in to take a closer look at the rings.
“He hits the same street of stores every time, one after another,” Spencer said, his long forefinger trailing down the strip of shops and bars the UnSub seemed to have a taste for, “I mean, excluding retail and supermarkets, since they’re unlikely spots for a husband and wife to go out on a date, the pattern is really quite linear where he hits next,”
Gently taking the pen out of his hands, Bugsy leaned up to colour in every single store that would be considered retail, crossing out a pet shop or two, leaving only the cafes, bars, restaurants, even a cinema. And sure enough, the three spots the victims had been last seen lined up perfectly as the first three ‘date night’ locations on the strip, the next being a steak restaurant named The Greasy Grill.
“How much do you want to bet our UnSub is getting a craving for Sirloin right about now?” Bugsy said, putting the pen down onto the table and they exchanged a look of accomplishment, just as Hotch walked in with the Chief of Detroit police.
“What did you find?” Hotch asked, his eyes falling to the asterisks drawn on the whiteboard, the rest of the known locations Penelope had sent dotted around the map.
“Date night is very important to this UnSub,” Spencer said, the two of them turning to their boss, his shoulder bumping hers, and it was only then she’d realised she was all but pressing up into his side.
“He goes on dates?” The chief of police asked, his brows furrowed. Taking a step away, her eyes darting to the map as a means of distracting herself, she pointed to the ink marks they’d squiggled on the paper.
“No, but the victims do and he knows that,” She explained, tracing a chewed fingertip down the street, “The UnSub hit here first, where our first couple went out for pizza. He then moved down here where the second victims had their date night in a bowling alley, and onto our newest victims, they were last seen having wine here, each kidnapping site along the same strip with the next possible location being right here,” She said, her finger slapping against the Greasy Grill, Hotch nodding in thought as the Chief got on the phone with his own team.
“Good work, you two,” Hotch hummed, and he opened his mouth to speak again when Bugsy’s phone began to ring.
Snatching it out of her pocket, she caught sight of Alex’s name before swiping to answer, pressing it to her ear, “Hello?”
“Fourth victim has just been found dumped in a car.” The woman said immediately, and Bugsy switched her mobile to speaker so the other two could hear her. Turning on her heels to face the white board, she grabbed the pen resting on the table beside her, yanking the lid off with her teeth.
“Where?” She asked, Spencer picking the plastic from between her lips to help her communicate, her eyes focused on the road names as she waited for Alex’s response.
“Back alley between Warren and Forest Avenue, one woman found alone in a white Buick,” Alex said, and all three of their faces scrunched in confusion as she said it.
“He’s changed his victimology,” Spencer murmured and Bugsy nodded, her lips pressed in a flat line, “Alex, is the woman married at least, or has the UnSub completely altered his preference?”
“We have her husband here right now,” Alex confirmed, and Hotch stepped over to where the two geniuses inspected the map, “He said he missed a dinner reservation they had two nights ago at a restaurant called-”
“The Greasy Grill?” Spencer and Bugsy spoke synchronously, and Alex paused audibly.
“I take it you two have figured out his pattern already?” She asked, though she didn’t sound all too surprised.
“See if the husband knows anything else, Blake. We’re going to figure out the next location that fits the pattern,” Hotch ordered, and they bid each other goodbye, as Bugsy and Spencer were already coordinating which plots of land were retail stores.
By the time the line went dead, there was a big red mark circling a mini golf course slash cocktail bar, and the duo looked at him expectantly.
“If the UnSub keeps his victims for around three days at a time, and the woman was found this morning, my guess is he’s going to head there tonight,” Bugsy said, capping the pen and dropping it back onto the desk, feeling Spencer nodding behind her, “And if the victim was supposed to be at the restaurant with her husband, it means he’s still looking for couples, he just happened to get unlucky. He’s going to want another happy-go-lucky husband and wife pairing,”
Hotch’s face became unreadable for a moment, his gaze switching between the two of them, like he was assessing the risk factor of sending his two youngest agents undercover for the second time. But they seemed to have worked together seamlessly the first time, in that casino, so he didn’t see the qualms about asking them to work the same act this time.
“What?” Bugsy asked, the look in his eye unnerving her, and she flicked a glance behind her at Spencer’s equally lost expression, turning back to see Hotch dialling Dave’s number to update him on their plan, “Hotch, what is it?”
“He wants a happy couple,” Hotch said, his phone already up to his ear as he eyed the little to zero space between the two agents who swore blind they were just friends, “We’re going to give him one,”
–
She had to admit, this was a little nicer than the red dress she’d been stuffed into last time. The sundress was flowy enough she could hide her gun strapped to her hip, and still compliment her figure nicely enough that she couldn’t complain. And best of all, it meant she could wear her ballet pumps instead of those god awful stilettos she’d pulled out last time they were undercover.
She still remembered that evening in the casino, watching Spencer’s big brain tick faster than she’d thought possible even for him. The briefing of this even seemed much more relaxed, seeing as their aim was to look like the happiest couple alive. ‘You worry about playing your parts, we’ll worry about playing ours,’; was what Alex had said when she’d brought in a dress about Bugsy’s size, the woman already styling her hair to look like she was really going on a date.
Because she was, sort of, not really, going on a date with Spencer. Except none of it was real, like someone up there had to have one final laugh at her luck, like that carrot on a string she’d been waiting patiently for the past week was looking a lot more delicious by the second as it dangled in front of her.
There was a knock on the small hotel room Hotch had booked them in for the evening, seeing as they were going to be scoping out the area until late, and Bugsy headed for the door without pause, thinking it was JJ returning with the fake wedding rings they’d gotten from a cheap jewellers down the street.
She swung the door open, only to be greeted by two dark eyes looking at her done up face, her primped hair, her floral dress.
“Spence,” She said, picking over every inch of him, breathless already, because she always thought he looked hot in a button down shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, “You look-”
“You look beautiful,” He rushed, like he might just burst if he held it in any longer, and she smiled sheepishly, her face flooding with heat all over again. Damn you, Reid, with your stupid charm and ridiculously good looking lips.
“You look beautiful too,” She complimented, noticing a gold band on his finger then and she realised he had something in his palm, “You run into JJ already?”
He nodded, smiling with a stammered breath, “Yeah, I said I’d come check if you were ready. Hotch and Dave are already there scoping out the bar,”
She simpered under the weight of his nervousness, “Well, I’m ready,” Holding out her left hand, she raised her ring finger, “Marry me, pretty boy,”
He snickered, shaking his head at her clear diversion from the stifling tension in the air, and held her hand in his delicately, his skin warm as it encompassed hers entirely, and he was careful to slip the false engagement ring over her digits, following it with a gold band of her own.
“You ready to get your ass kicked at miniature golf whilst our friends catch a criminal, Mr Reid?” She asked, and he had yet to let go of her hand as she shut the door behind her, slipping her hotel room key into her purse.
“That’s a bold statement from such a sore loser, Mrs Reid,” He said back, a smile so wide he thought he might burst a vessel as she laughed, and tightened her fingers around his, interlacing them just like she had done a handful of times before, and his chest crackled with white hot excitement when she knocked her shoulder into his side in affection.
His lips scorched with the words Mrs Reid the entire drive to the bar.
–
“Any eyes on him, yet?” Bugsy whispered to the women in the stalls, touching up her lipstick as JJ and Alex hid in the women’s bathroom for the signal.
“Not yet,” Blake said, sitting on the closed toilet seat in her kevlar and jacket, all but twiddling her thumbs and wishing she’d brought a sudoku, “Are you guys having fun at least?”
“Pretending to be married to my best friend while a serial killer eyes up my guts for the taking; yeah I’m peachy,” Bugsy replied, rubbing her lips together and making sure her gun was still strapped tight to her hip, “Besides, he really is kicking my ass at golf,”
“He’s going to let you win anyway, you know that right?” JJ said, tucking her feet up onto the seat in her own stall in case anyone who wasn’t on their team came in to the bathroom, “He always lets you win because he knows it makes you happy,”
Bugsy paused, the tissue that was collecting rogue lipstick smudges from her face almost falling in the sink, and she was quick to gather her voice with a clear of her throat.
“Maybe I just win because I’m good, Jennifer,” She said, a lilt of teasing in her tone, binning the scrap tissue paper and heading for the door, “Keep an eye out, kiddos. I’m going back in,”
They chirped a goodbye, the two of them sighing as they waited for Hotch’s message, and Bugsy walked back out to where Spencer was waiting by Hole Seven. It was a classic windmill on top of a hill, a small tunnel where the door was supposed to be leading to a lower level behind the plastic decor, where the hole lay waiting for them.
“You ready, honey?” He said, holding out a purple putter they’d chosen at the start of the course, and she smiled genuinely at him. She had been telling somewhat of a lie when she’d been so unenthusiastic in the bathroom, though she thought telling the women just how much fun she was having being married to Spencer might just rub salt in the wound considering they were bored stiff sat in the bathroom.
That and she wanted to keep whatever it was they were feeling theirs and only theirs for just a little bit longer.
“Ready, my love,” She sang in response and let him go first. He had to lean over a fair bit seeing as he was so tall he made everything on the course look particularly miniature, including the putter that seemed dwarfed by his height. Taking a quick look at the hill, no doubt calculating the angle and force he would need to hit it with, he gave the little, pink golf ball a generous tap and it raced up the slope, straight into the tunnel. They heard it knocking around a little in the chamber, before it came careering out the other end and rolled no closer than a yard away from the hole.
Bugsy looked at him with wide eyes, to which he pretended not to look almost arrogant with how easy he’d made it seem, only when he looked back at her with a shit eating grin, she knew exactly how pleased with himself he was.
“I bet it’s not that difficult, it’s all just a matter of force and drag and whatnot, right?” She said, strolling up to place her lilac ball on the inky dot marking the start.
“Totally, although this is where, I don’t know, say a degree in Engineering would come in useful, I bet,” Spencer chimed in, and she didn’t need to look at him to know he had that smirk on his face.
“Mr Reid, get ready to eat your words,” She replied over her shoulder, smacking the ball hard enough it flew up the slope, bouncing off the wall of the windmill and racing all the way back down the hill, rolling right back to where they stood, Spencer hiding a laugh behind his hand. She gaped, her face hot with annoyance, “Wait, wait! That was a practice run, I get another go,”
“Practice run, I see,” Spencer said with a chuckle, shoving his hands in his pockets, and watching her scramble to set the ball back on the marker, “So out of interest, how many of these practice runs are you getting,”
“Just the one,” She said, hitting the plastic globe again, though this time it barely made it half way up the incline before it rolled right back down again, “Two, I get two. This one’s the real one, starting now,”
“The real one? So this one’s really the one that counts, right?” He teased, and she glared at him over her shoulder. He stepped closer to her, a look of the cat that got the cream smeared all across his face as he took a stance behind her, wrapping his arms around hers with the oldest trick in the book, “Why don’t you let your dearest husband help you out, huh?”
“I have a masters and half a degree in medicine, I think I know what I’m doing,” She hummed, though the feeling of his hands resting over hers soone quietened down whatever fire was stoked in her belly from losing their game. Spencer was so close she could feel him breathing down her neck, feel his chest on her shoulder blades, and worst and most heinous of all, feel his crotch pressing against her tailbone.
“Alright, alright. Just humour me,” He murmured, a new found confidence in him that he only seemed to get whenever they were playing the part of being other people. He gave her a salacious lick of his lips, smiling at her with a pink parted mouth, his eyes dark in this light like he knew what she was thinking as well, and he couldn’t help but think she looked so pretty when he flirted with her a little. He’d always thought that when she was stunned into that quiet tone, the mousy look she got on her face was rather cute.
His hands engulfed hers with a mesh of pornographic veins and sadistically handsome knuckles, his mouth at her ear as they lined up the shot together.
It was as if a murmuration of birds had flocked together in her chest, dipping and diving and creating all manner of shapes in her stomach as she felt it flip three or four times, his body so entirely pressed against hers she never wanted to move a muscle. She’d had the odd thought pop into her head about what sex with Spencer Reid might feel like, and yet all she could think about in the haze of the putter and fake grass beneath their feet was how delicious he felt pressing into her like that.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as she looked forward again, and she could have sworn she held back a moan when he breathed out down her spine.
“Hotch has eyes on a guy at the bar watching us,” He whispered, her back straightening as she was reminded with a slap to the face they were still working the case. That as much fun as they were having, as happy as they were supposed to seem, they still had a very real job to do, and she felt stupid for thinking the flirty glances and erotic embrace was for anything more than to sell the married couple act.
But Bugsy was nothing if not committed to her job. So instead of worrying if Spencer had felt anything real in the last hour or so, she decided to double down and give their UnSub a real show.
Sticking her ass out so she brushed against Spencer’s crotch more, she intertwined her fingers with his, and hit the dimpled sphere the direction he guided her; and sure enough it rolled straight into the tunnel with little qualms.
Spinning in his arms, the smile was nearly wiped off her face when she saw Spencer’s eyes had darkened to a rich espresso hue as he looked at her. But she hid it well, despite the fact she caught the way his pupils were blown wide, and simply leaned to kiss him smack dab on his cheek, a smirk on her face when she pulled away.
“I guess I just needed the correct motivation,” She said with a flirty undertone, and she revelled in the way his lips parted enough she saw the whites of his absurdly pretty teeth.
“Remind me to not take you out to mini golf for our first date,” Spencer huffed, his ears red as a mushroom top as they both stepped over to where the hole was and she snickered, trying her best to ignore the wings hammering away at her ribcage when he said that.
“Duly noted, Mr Reid,” She said, watching him lineup his next shot with a smirk, and she wondered just where exactly they would go on their first date. Her smile only got wider, a girlish glee to her eyes. “So, theoretically, where were you thinking of taking me?”
“Theoretically,” He said, lining up his shot, the ball only a small tap away from the hole, his feet spreading a little wider so he could lean down to putt the pink sphere, “I was thinking of going to that book cafe out in Delaware, the one where they have a bunch of drinks inspired by different authors. We could play a game I used to with my mom, where we choose a book for each other we think the other would like,” He took the shot, his ball rolling into the cavity without much effort as she watched him meticulously, her entire body softening with his sentiment right down to her marrow, “And then I was going to say we build a sofa fort in the living room and watch whatever movie you like, maybe get some popcorn on the way home,”
He looked up at her, and almost reeled back in surprise to see her looking at him with something so vastly emotional in her eyes, like he’d offered her a winning lottery ticket or a chance to go back in time in a flying police box, her expression a complete window into her soul because she’d never been too good at hiding how she felt when she was around him.
Spencer opened his mouth to speak again, only for their earpieces to jump to life, Hotch’s voice out of breath as he reported down their ear.
“We have the UnSub, we caught him trying to sneak into your car like we profiled.” He said, and she knew his brow was creased without even having to see his face, “We’re taking him in for questioning now, you kids wrap up and head to the station,”
Bugsy hummed in confirmation, fighting the disappointment that their show was over, and they’d have to go back to their usual act of pretending there wasn’t three little words hanging over both their heads, gnawing at the back of their brains.
Clearing her throat, she set up her shot ready to finish their game, “Well, theoretically speaking, when you’re ready to ask me on that date, I’m there,”
He smiled to himself, perhaps ready to flirt with her just a little more before they went back to being Bugsy and Spence, not Mr and Mrs Reid, when she hit the golf ball just the tiniest bit too vigorously. It rolled straight past the hole, bouncing off the wall and heading further away from the end than when she’d started, and she groaned in frustration.
“How are you so terrible at this-” Spencer burst out laughing as she stomped over to the lilac ball, lining up another shot with a grumpy expression.
“Not another word, Lover boy,”
2. The one with an old flame.
“I wonder what Hotch wants,” She mused, her head resting on the arm of the seat, her eyes shut for the duration of the flight. Rossi had called them into the office startlingly early for a Friday, the entire team sleepy eyed and annoyed as they’d strolled onto the sixth floor.
Yet the minute that they’d heard Hotch needed them, they’d soon perked up in interest, seeing as it was Aaron’s only appointed week off to see Beth in New York, and they had quickly jumped in to help with whatever it was he needed.
“Penelope’s still waiting for NYPD to send her the autopsy reports for the previous victims,” Rossi said, him, Strauss, JJ and Alex playing a few rounds of Shithead with a peeling deck of cards because for once they had no paperwork to be looking over while they travelled. Bugsy had laid on the couch, the one Spencer usually commandeered, except this time he let her take the comfy seat, instead letting her legs drape over his lap as he read from his book, another two sat next to him for when he finished that one.
“He sounded panicked. DEA thinks we might have a bad batch of something making its way through the club scene causing the deaths,” Strauss added, putting down two sets of three on top of JJ’s ace, “Aaron’s brother just happened to have been caught in the crossfire,”
“Men are almost twice as likely to die from drug overdoses than women, just last year there were forty-one thousand, five hundred and two cases.” Spencer said without lifting his head from his pages, his thumb caressing over Bugsy’s ankle bone, “The fact that the majority of the victims are women suggests it’s more than likely is a date rape drug that has been laced since they tend to be targeted towards female victims more often than males.”
“Ecstasy can be made in pill, powder or liquid form so it really wouldn’t be too difficult to slip it into someone’s drink,” The girl mused, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she attempted to catch up on another half hour of sleep, “Or to convince people the drug they’re taking willingly is safe,”
“Even regular users might not know they're being dosed until it's too late,” JJ agreed, setting down a seven on top of Rossi’s two fives.
“What about the two victims who were clean, Linda Heying and Eric Sullivan’s family claimed they never touched the stuff,” Alex questioned, as Morgan looked over the list of victims that they had been able to track down, despite the majority of the information waiting for them at New York.
“Either the victims are good at hiding the truth or the UnSub is killing for another reason,” David said with a sigh, as Strauss set down the six of clubs, “We should take a closer look, see how they’re connected,”
“Well for now, let the princess get her beauty sleep,” Bugsy said, snuggling into the throw pillow Spencer had passed her as they’d sat down, “I’m feeling weird today,”
His head ripped from his book at that, the rest of the team going back to playing their cards, his hand skirting up to her calf to stroke her leg gently, “You okay?”
She huffed, “Yeah, Penelope said it's because my Mercury is in Retrograde or something, I don’t know. I just feel strange,” She grumbled, resting a hand over her stomach, “Probably just coming on my period early,”
He frowned, moving her legs off his lap and standing up. Before she could ask where he was going, he stepped to the opposite end of the couch, picking her head up gently by the crook of her neck and sitting back down, resting her back onto his lap.
His fingers were in her hair before she could say anything, scratching gently at her scalp the way he knew she turned to putty for, and she smiled, swearing blind she’d be purring if she could.
“We’ll get you some breakfast when we land,” He murmured, and she snuggled her cheek into his thigh, his slender fingers massaging her skin kindly.
“Thankyou, Spence,” She whispered back, all but slurring her words as sleep caught right back up to her, and before long she was drooling on his black trousers, the sight of it making him smile sweetly to himself.
And it was for a moment like that he wondered what exact feeling he was waiting for in the first place.
–
“Any updates?” Bugsy asked, as they entered the New York Police Department and saw Hotch waiting for them, his arms crossed in a casual shirt and jeans, clearly having had no intention of working this week, “How’s your brother?”
“A little shaken but then he never exactly made the best choices in life,” Hotch huffed, putting a hand on her back as she leaned in to give him a small hug because he seemed particularly stressed, “Emily always said you were bad, I’d take you over him any day,”
“Thanks,” She murmured into his shoulder, with a frown, “I think?”
He smiled, amused the way she had a knack for, though the worry in his mahogany eyes didn’t budge, and Spencer was all but a step behind her as the team filed into the building.
“You guys have coffee?” Spencer asked, his eyes subconsciously trailing after Bugsy as she moved to talk to one of the detectives, and Hotch nodded, pointing him over to the small kitchenette at the back of the precinct.
“Over there, I’ll get you guys set up with the lab reports now that you’re here. Autopsies came back for Linda and Eric,” Hotch said, and Spencer murmured in agreement, heading straight for the instant coffee and creamer, worrying about the girl who was already nose deep in a file by the time the machine had poured the first cup.
He wondered whether there were any pharmacies nearby for anti-sickness tablets, or if she needed a heavy dose of water and sleep instead of the caffeine goodness he was whipping up for her, but then he knew she’d rather shrivell into a ball in the precinct bathroom than ask for a day off, would rather suffer in proud silence than make herself look weak.
Bugsy remembered it happening in choppy intervals. One minute she was heading up the steps towards where Spencer stood patiently by the coffee machine, something already popping up as a point of interest in her overworked brain. Her head was down, muttering to herself the points of the victimology that conflicted with one another, when she felt herself slam right into a solid body, and she jumped back, steadying herself with an embarrassed expression.
“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was-” Her eyes snapped up to see a messy blonde sweep of hair, wide blue eyes she’d known ten years ago and a thick beard that happened to be the only thing new about him. Her gaze locked onto him, and she felt a fury she’d not thought about in over a decade rile up inside her, “Sean?”
“Bugsy,” He breathed, the horror sweeping over his expression, a hand shooting up to slick his hair back nervously, “What are you- how are you-”
She shoved him back with two firm hands, tossing the file onto the table beside her, and shoving at his chest again, his own hands coming up to defend himself lightly even though his expression read nothing but guilt.
“Woah, woah, let’s just talk about this, I was just a dumb kid-”
“You left me, Sean. You left me in a foreign country alone with no boarding pass, no cell phone,” She snarled, and the sound of her tone rising turned a few heads, Spencer all but ditching the spoon into the sink when he saw her going nose to nose with some guy who looked purely terrified, “Your dumbass friends spent all my money on hookers, I’d still be in Italy if it wasn’t for the fact you graciously decided not to steal my bank card-”
She shoved him again in between her growls, and it wasn’t until two hands came up to stop her did she realise Derek and Spencer had all but appeared behind her, the former’s arms wrapping around her waist to draw her back.
“Woah, woah, talk to me, pretty girl. What’s with the aggression?” Derek asked, his eyes wide with concern as he looked between the youngest agent and their suspect. It seemed her volume had reached the other side of the room where Hotch had been talking with Strauss and Alex, and Spencer could practically see the steam coming out his ears as he whipped around to their trio.
He could already hear the lecture coming, and the thought of it made him gulp.
“This is Sean,” She spat, and Derek and Spencer’s head snapped to the blonde man who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, “You know, the asshole that ditched me on another continent and stole my money,”
“I didn’t mean to steal your money, I thought you had it in your purse, I-I didn’t think to check before we left the hotel room,” He tried to interject, though the girl's glare intensified, unaware her boss's shoes were now thundering across the steps.
“Where you left me to miss the flight I paid for, you inconsiderate prick-”
“You told me to leave you alone! You said you were sick of us waking you up-”
“I meant playing your music too loud, dumbass-”
“Well sorry, last time I checked I’m not a mind reader, Bugsy-”
“What in God’s name is going on here?” Hotch’s voice was a crack of lightning through the precinct, and the two of them shut up immediately, like two school children caught squabbling in the halls, Sean turning to his older brother with an exasperated expression.
“Aaron, I swear, I don’t know what she’s doing here,” Sean pleaded, and Derek, Spencer and Bugsy turned to their boss in unison with bewildered faces. Hotch looked back at them, his own anger dissolving into utter, raw confusion.
“Do you two know each other?” Hotch, Aaron, asked the girl in the middle, the other men all but positioned as bodyguards in the midst of their little spat, and he saw her cheeks hot with anger deflating as she drew a breath to answer.
“Unfortunately,” She spat, scrutinising the familiar tone Sean had used when he’d said Aaron’s name, “Do you two know each other?”
“He’s my brother,” The Hotchner’s replied in unison, their tone almost identical and she felt stupid for not seeing it sooner.
Bugsy felt her face drop, her eyes scanning between them for any signs of a lie, except all she found were the tiny details of their face that seemed to half match. Like their cheekbones, and the crease between their brows, the shape of their lips.
Her face blanked, gobsmacked silence passing between the five of them as she digested exactly what that statement ment.
Sean, her Sean, the Sean she’d been sleeping with on and off for six months straight, who used to make her tea way too milky and without sugar the way she hated it, but would bring it to her in bed and stroke her back when they were finished, the Sean who once tried to ask her to be his girlfriend when he was stoned and she’d laughed at him and snatched the blunt away, told him to get a hold of himself because that was the exact opposite of how friends with benefits worked.
Sean, who she had trusted to keep her safe, who’d ditched her naked in a hotel room in a foreign country and made her feel stupid for ever believing a word a man said.
She stuttered for a response, a wide eyes mix of terror and confusion and repulsion washing over her in stages.
“I need-” She swallowed thickly, her mouth drier than sandpaper, gently pushing Derek’s arm from around her waist, “I think I need a walk- a walk sounds good- yeah-”
Rossi paced over to the five of them, his phone clutched tightly in his hands. He almost paused at the wall of awkward tension around the group, each participant seeming stuck for the right thing to say, the entire situation so bizarre that Spencer debated faking a migraine to get him and her out of the room for some air.
“Hotch,” Both of the men turned to look at him, and the sight of it made Bugsy shudder, feeling almost completely out of her own body at the thought of her nude body on top of Sean’s because now all she could see was Aaron in his place, “Six new bodies found in a nightclub-”
“I’ll go!” She jumped, all but bolting past the men, trying her hardest not to touch either of them because her skin crawled with a sickening uncanny valley looking between the brothers, “I’ll go inspect the crime scene,”
And no one stopped her, because they’d seen her be all manner of strange before, but never quite like that. Aaron nodded his head to Morgan, and the man took it as a sign to follow her. He quickly obeyed, hot on the girl's heels as she kept her head down with an odd, freaked out expression on her face like she was about to throw up and scream at the same time.
Which left Sean alone as Spencer and Aaron whirled around on him, similar looks of annoyance on their face as the younger agent looked the man head to toe.
He was handsome, handsome in a rugged way like he was used to bar fights and late nights and drinking until three am with pretty ladies like her. He was built wide like Aaron, his shoulders broad and muscles stocky, a few tattoos dotted around his arms that only added to his rough looking appeal, and Spencer wondered if she’d always liked the bad boys, wondered if he was an outlier in her dating history.
Except they weren’t dating, not yet at least.
“So I take it she’s one of your agents,” Sean said, wringing his hands together in anxiety as the two taller men looked down at him, equally unimpressed.
Though, Spencer hated to admit, his was more green faced jealousy than anything else.
“Agent Prentiss is one of the best,” Reid corrected, his tone cold and stern, and Sean visibly shrunk in on himself, looking to his big brother for help, only he found Aaron was just as annoyed, glaring down at him.
“You have some more explaining to do, Sean,” His brother snapped, and the two men diverted him into one of the interrogation rooms, Spencer’s jaw clenched so hard he felt his temples ache, “Or next time I’m not stopping her from handing your ass to you, and believe me when I say you’ll wish you’d told me sooner,”
Sean gulped, all too aware of the way eighteen year old Bugsy had never backed down from a fight, when men twice her age shoved her in clubs or girls bitched at her for dancing too close to their boyfriends. He didn’t imagine she was any different at twenty eight, except this time she was trained and licensed to handle a gun.
The door slammed behind them, and Aaron pushed his little brother into the seat with a firm hand, the sight of his unit chief just as protective over her as he was making Spencer bite back glee. The image of Bugsy laying into the guy was burned into his memory, eidetic or not, and it seemed to be the only thing that stopped him blowing his top as Sean opened his mouth to explain what had happened between him and the younger Prentiss woman.
–
“What did you do, Thane?” Sean’s voice crackled over the feed, the wire on his chest brushing against his shirt as he paced in the wine cellar. Aaron, Morgan, Spencer and Bugsy sat in the van, listening to the conversation through shared headphones, Spencer and Bugsy’s heads pressed together as they followed the voices as best as they could, waiting for a confession or anything they could tie to the victims' gory deaths.
“I spiked the wine, you idiot,” Sean’s boss, Thane, snapped, his breathing laboured and Bugsy took a shot in the dark to say he was pacing, worrying now that there was concrete evidence linking his date rape drug to the deaths of atleast nine people so far, “Oh, God. Oh, god, Jim is going to kill me.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Sean seethed, his patience wearing thin as the man all but confessed to killing his girlfriend.
“For a laugh, I thought it was X. Girl’s love that crap,” Thane replied, his voice louder as Sean stepped closer to him, and she exchanged a look with Aaron.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t X, was it?” The younger Hotchner barked, and she quickly let go of the headphones to grab a kevlar and her gun.
“He’s going off track, Aaron, he’d not going to keep his cool much longer,” She said, and Spencer’s eyes trailed up to her face, her brow furrowed as Aaron moved to slip his own bulletproof over his head, adjusting the straps at his side.
“Tell SWAT to stand by, we’re going in to support, but we may need back up,” Aaron ordered, unholstering his gun and switching the trigger off safety, “You two stay here and see if Thane says any more about the wine,”
She drew her gun to her side just as he did, and Spencer made a move to stop her, even just to check where her head was at because he knew she had this tendency of throwing herself in harms way and asking questions later. He selfishly worried what that upset look in her eyes meant, like she loathed that Sean was in danger as much as she loathed him.
But he wasn’t quite fast enough, because by the time he’d reached a hand out for hers to ask if she was feeling alright, she had slid the door to the van open, hopping out onto the tarmac as Aaron shadowed her.
And something ugly and envious reared its head in Spencer’s gut as the doors slammed, so much so that his jaw feathered and he took a deep breath out, his lips pressing into a thin line.
The two agents moved as one, their footsteps pounding over the linoleum floor of the night club. They swept to the back of the building, where the door to the stock room was, and it became apparent almost immediately from the grunting and shuffling the other side of the door that the two men were much closer to brawling than they’d guessed.
“FBI, drop your weapon!” Bugsy called, bracing herself as she felt Aaron’s domineering figure at her shoulder. She raised her leg to kick the door in, and it swung on its hinges, smacking into the rack of beer. They caught the two men in the middle of a fist fight, Sean with a split lip, Thane with a gash on his forehead, his head locked under the younger man’s arm with a deathly grip.
She holstered her gun, seeing that neither of them were carrying, and moved forward to break the two of them up.
“Alright, Sean- Sean, that’s enough,” She scolded, her fingers prying his muscled arm off his boss’s trachea, and Sean took a second to realise it was disappointment in her face, not the white hot anger it had been not even a few hours before, before he let the man go, some colour returning to his bluing lips.
“He killed Linda,” The blonde Hotchner said softly, and something wavered in her eyes, something close to pity, and she nodded at him while biting her cheek hard. Aaron holstered his gun, surging forward to grab Thane with rough hands as he fought against the taller man’s grip. “She was sober, she’d gotten clean and he killed her,”
“I know,” Bugsy said lamentingly, and against her better judgement she patted his shoulder kindly, more kindly than he probably deserved, and the thought of it made Sean’s baby blue eyes turn away in sorrow.
Before she could say anything else, Thane wretched his hand out of Hotch’s grip, grabbing for the sharp box cutter and lunging right for Bugsy where she turned away from him.
Sean’s expression morphed into fear for a moment, grabbing for her to yank her out of reach, but it was too late. She felt the slash across the back of her arm, where her kevlar couldn’t cover up, and she yawped in pain the way a dog sounds when its tail gets crushed. Turning towards the source of the danger, Sean’s hand weaved around her waist to tug her backwards as Aaron scrambled to grab the suspect.
Thane’s hand gripped the blade and slashed down again, across her cheek and only inches away from her eye, her hands too late to grab his wrists to stop his advances. By the time he drew back to swipe for her again Aaron had already tackled him to the ground, pinning him to the wine soaked floor and fumbling for his cuffs.
“We have an agent injured and needing medical, repeat, medical unit required on scene,” Spencer was out of his seat before Hotch could even finish his sentence, forgoing his own vest as he darted from the van, his heart racing at the sound of the scuffle echoing through Sean’s wire, and he felt his chest seizing at just what kind of a state she’d be in when he saw her.
She was the only other agent on the scene. That call had to be made for her, the voice in his gut told him, but the twisted part of him hoped that it was someone else, anyone else, that had gotten hurt, because he might just throw a punch of his own at Thane or Sean or maybe even both of them if she had so much as a single hair misplaced.
Spencer had only just about reached the bar area when the four of them emerged from the stock room, Thane in cuffs, looking rattled and aggravated. Spencer let himself take a long, hard look at the man with a glare that soon made him cower away, though he found little luck elsewhere as Hotch’s hands gripped him so tight Spencer thought he might be trying to strangle him through his arms.
But that wasn’t who he was looking for. And there, trailing behind his unit chief sheepishly, with Sean’s hand on her back as he watched her carefully, his eyes worriedly darting over her skin when he saw how fast the blood was pouring from the laceration on the apple of her cheek, was Bugsy. Her expression was shaken, no doubt from nearly having her corneas slashed open had Sean not pulled her away even a second earlier, and she seemed in some sort of a daze, until she spotted the sweater vest she’d shoved in the wash about a hundred times, and two supple hands reached for her shoulders, snapping her attention out of her head.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, all but ignoring Sean as the man went to flag down medical, his own appearance dishevelled and stunned, and it irked Spencer something childish when her head snapped to the blonde, watching him head for the paramedics.
“I’m okay, Spence, it’s just a superficial wound,” She said as a reflex, meeting his eyes finally. But she simpered when she saw just how terrified he seemed, a warm palm raising to cup his face affectionately, “He just nicked the skin, that’s all. It’s not as bad as it looks,”
Which wasn’t exactly a lie. Her face stung like a bitch, but the feeling of her cheek dribbling with the ichor was worse than the actual pain, and made her feel queasy more than anything.
He went to say something else, or perhaps even gently caress the clean side of her face with his own loving gesture, but he was quickly interrupted by the medical team all but grabbing Bugsy out of his grip and assessing her themselves.
“It’s probably best if you come take a seat, Agent Prentiss,” The woman said, pointing to where Sean sat on the back of the ambulance getting his nose checked over, “We’ll be over with some stitches and glue,”
And Spencer made a move to follow the two of them, only to be stopped by Hotch, who called his name with that direct tone he took when he was worried.
“Reid, I need you and Morgan to interview Thane about where he got the drugs he used to spike the wine,” Aaron ordered, even though he seemed to watch the girl go just as bothered as the younger agent, and Spencer seemed conflicted between rebelling against his boss’s instructions or keeping to his track record of following them to a tea.
He paused for a second, his gaze flicking to the girl who sat with her old flame, Sean’s eyes roving over her head to toe worriedly, and he looked back to Aaron, “But-”
“Now, Reid. She’s going to be fine.”
And Spencer was forced to listen, even if his face burned with annoyance at the sight of the man watching her so tentatively.
–
“Would you quit fidgeting, the medic said it was a surface wound,” Bugsy snipped, feeling the ocean hues burning a hole into the side of her head. She dusted her knees off of invisible dirt, braving a look up at her ex-fling where she was met with a wall of guilt.
And it was like for a split second she remembered all the mornings she’d wake up to him twirling the tips of her hair between his fingers, or when he’d shake his head whenever he’d look over her shoulder at her lab reports she’d be writing and make a passing comment on how a hot girl like her could have brains and looks.
Or how he could be kind to her, genuinely sweet when he wanted to be, when they toed a weird line between friends with benefits and something a little more, because at his core she knew he was a good guy, he was just incredibly dumb for an eighteen year old.
“Listen, Bug,” Sean sighed, looking down at the ground where they were perched on the back on the ambulance, Bugsy’s face stitched up so tight she hoped it wouldn’t scar very deeply, “I really am sorry for how I treated you,”
His voice shook with something remorseful, and she let her eyes cast over his face that had grown even more handsome in the ten years since she saw him. With the good memories came the bad ones in equal measure, and the arguments over stupid shit like leaving cupboard doors open and playing music late at night and the time he forgot to feed her gerbil for two days when she was out of town washed back to shore from the deepest crevices of her mind.
She’d been with men after him, had flings and meaningless kisses with boys who’d treated her much less kindly than he had. And when she thought about it, the anger and resentment she’d felt when she thought about those few days she spent lost in Italy stemmed from the fact she’d been forced to confront what she’d always feared since she was little.
That Bugsy was alone in the world, forgettable, someone you could leave behind and sleep soundly.
But when she thought of that now, the first face she pictured was Spencer, and how he would tell her to knock it off if she ever said that out loud, because he would never leave her, in a foreign country or even at a gas station if she needed to get fuel. He always walked up to the pump with her because he knew exactly how many women got kidnapped in places like that every year, he'd told her so already.
And she knew the person she was when she could have loved Sean, the person who was reminded just how easy it was to leave her behind, was gone. In its place was the girl who Spencer loved like it was as easy as breathing. And the thought of it made her feel just that little bit less bitter towards the blonde man who fiddled with his rough, bloodied hands.
“I was a dumb kid, I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of,” He swallowed heavily, his frown looking strikingly similar to Aaron's as he did, but she would never remind him, “But I did always wonder whether I’d see your name in the news curing some disease I could never pronounce or being the first person to learn like every single language there is,” He smiled sadly, and the old her knew him just well enough to know he was being honest, because his nose turned red whenever he lied.
The thought of it made her lips curve up, despite how annoyed she’d been to see him again, and there was something bashful about the way the slid a hand into his to give it a quick squeeze.
“We were eighteen, Sean. No one has themselves figured out at eighteen,” She said earnestly, her head dipping to meet his ashamed gaze.
He shook his head, “You deserved so much better than I could ever give you, we both knew that,” He pulled his hand away, and her expression contorted into confusion, “It’s probably why you're with that doctor, right? Aaron said he’s like a whizz kid,”
“He’s not-We’re-” She sighed, running a hand over where the EMTs had stitched the gash on the back of her arm, “It’s complicated,”
“Complicated like we were complicated?” He asked, her fingertip tracing every single nook where they had looped the suture through her skin.
She smiled to herself and looked over at him, something weighty like closure passing between the two of him as he watched her take his tired face in, knowing they were nothing more than just passing ships in the night now.
“You meant something to me once, Sean, no matter how much we drove each other up the wall,” She snickered, and something like an exhausted chuckle matched her, “But it’s different with him. It’s like everything I do means something to the world when I’m with him, you know?”
Sean took in the wistful look in her eyes, the girl he’d known who had only gotten stronger, scrappier, wittier with age, and he thought he’d be lucky to ever get someone like her again.
“I hope I do,” He said, and she knocked her shoulder into his to dispel the bad memories of two teenagers figuring out what feelings and kisses and sex meant in the messiest of ways.
“Do me a favour?” Sean hummed at her, and she looked surprisingly like herself again when she smiled at him wryly, “Call Aaron more. It’s difficult being the only disappointment child in his life,”
Sean barked a laugh at her words, and she smiled into her lap. Who’d have thought closure would be so healing.
–
She felt eyes on her even as she tried to nap on the jet, having returned back to their original position on the couch, her head on Spencer’s lap. She had a sixth sense to who it would be, the Spider Sense they’d been calling it despite the fact Spencer tried to tell her it was mere intuition, she glanced up to where something melancholic swirled inside his forest gaze, already watching over her despite his book being open in his lap.
She hadn’t even opened her mouth to speak before his obscenely large hand had sneaked under her jawline, tilting her face up so he could take a better look at the messy cut.
“Have they given you anything for the pain?” Spencer said quietly, because the other’s were already trying to sleep, and she blanked for a moment, before her hand came up to snake around his wrist gently.
“They gave me Naproxen for two days. Spence, I’m fine, really,”
His teeth ground together, his other hand placing his book down beside him and moving to smooth the back of her hair, the sealed wound staring daggers at him as his eyes darted over the rest of her face, just to be sure they hadn’t missed anything.
He nodded to himself, as if to conclude his consultation and his thumb stroked down the curve of her jaw, his head whipping up to quickly make sure no one else was watching.
“What, uh,” Spencer cleared his throat nervously, her expectant eyes looking up at him, “What were you and Sean talking about?”
Her brow quirked in confusion, and it wasn’t until she felt his delicate strokes hesitate that she realised he seemed on edge, “Why?”
“N-No reason, I just was wondering, you looked like you were-” He coughed again, even though there was nothing tickling his windpipe, nothing except embarrassment, because he’d never thought he’d be the envious type.
He braved a look at her again, worried she would be annoyed with his crass and intrusive questions, only to see her smiling at him wickedly.
“We were what?” She asked, and Spencer went so quiet he could have heard a mouse knitting if he tried, his cheeks flushing with raspberry red heat, “Are you jealous, Spencer?”
He shook his head fast, unable to formulate anything that wasn’t a stammer, and she sat up in her seat, throwing her legs onto the ground so she could scooch up into his side.
“Because if you were, you know I’d find that wildly attractive right?” She murmured, his cheeks burning an even hotter shade, the sight of it all but a bone to a hound to Bugsy who loved teasing him. She snickered, leaning in close to his vermillion ear, and leaving a tiny kiss on his clenched jaw, “Don’t worry, Wonder Boy. He knows I’m all yours,”
3. The one with the day of the dead.
“Thankyou, thankyou, my helpful little mice,” Penelope chirped as the three of them stepped into her apartment, their arms filled with shopping bags, “Set them down on the counter, I’ll unpack them later,”
“Wow,” Bugsy gawped at the altar stood in the corner of the woman’s living room, an assortment of sweets and tissue paper flowers decorating the layers, “Oh it’s so pretty, they’re going to love it. We spent a Summer in Mexico when Mom was having talks with their President, but we moved out before October rolled around so I never got to see a Día de los Muertos,”
Penny smiled, though she quickly looked around the rest of her apartment that had yet to be decorated, “There’s still a lot to do before the party next week and,” She huffed, the bags taking up the entirety of her kitchen table as Bugsy frowned at her, “I’m scared. I’ve never had the whole team here before,”
“Relax, Pen, I can help you set up,” The younger woman reassured, helping unload the groceries that needed to go in the fridge as Spencer helped her carry the larger items.
Penelope perked up watching her guests move towards the cooler, a devilish smirk twitching at her lips, “Hey, while you guys are there, can you see if I have enough hot sauce for the party?”
“Sure,” They replied in synchrony, Bugsy putting the milk and soda in the side drawers as Spencer shelved away some of the meat. They both looked at the top row, where some kind of jalapeno salsa was resting next to a jar of fake eyeballs, and the flicked a casual glance at the woman who was pouring vials of red viscous liquid made to look like blood down her cheeks for a Penelope version of a practical joke.
Bugsy blinked once, not quite surprised as she would have thought seeing Penelope attempting to scare them with something they’d seen a thousand times over for real.
“Now, are the eyeballs marinating in anything spicy or is it just like a pickled onion type of thing because all you seem to have is the jalapeno sauce,” She said, and Penelope deflated at her bored tone, looking at the two agents in discontent.
“You guys didn’t even flinch,” She said sadly, her dark eyes flicking between them, “My poor babies, what has the world done to you?”
Bugsy smiled, shutting the fridge door and handing the bubbly woman a leaf of tissue paper.
“JJ’s right, I told her I wanted to go scary this Halloween and she just laughed at me, and said that I don’t have a scary side,” Penelope whined, and Bugsy giggled.
“Sorry, babygirl, you wouldn’t be Penelope Garcia if you were capable of scary,” She teased, waltzing around the kitchen to put away the rest of the shopping, even as the woman tried to shoo her away from helping, “I’ve seen puppies scarier than you, Pen,”
“If it helps, you probably do,” Spencer interjected, helping Bugsy shelve something on one of the higher cabinets, his long arms weaselling over her own as he reached past her, “The building blocks of the human personality are complex, varied and multi-faceted. It’s essential to one’s mental health to want to express these hidden personalities and it’s just a fact of nature that everybody has one,”
“Everybody?” Penelope asked, ignoring the way the two of them bumbled around her kitchen, handing things between one another the way she imagined them putting away the groceries in their own kitchen, like they worked just as well in the home as they did in the field. Dare she say it, like a couple who had been married and knew each other's routines for years. “Even the two of you?”
“Oh, absolutely, yeah,” Spencer agreed, and Bugsy flicked a smirk up at him as Pen turned to her expectantly.
"I mean, you can't tell me Bitch-Slapping our boss or fist fighting with my sister was exactly usual behaviour for me," She pointed out, and the two of them nodded in agreement, although they wouldn't have exactly called it out of character for her.
“Okay, okay, I want to see it. I want to see Dr Spencer Reid’s hidden personality,” Penelope said, a smile growing as thick and fast as a weed when he seemed thrown off by her request, and it only took one look at the younger Prentiss to know she wanted front row just as badly.
“R-right here? Like right now you want to see it?” He stammered, all too aware of Bugsy’s amused lashes batting up at him, the innocent expression she knew made it difficult for him to say no to, and he wondered for a second if she understood the exact amount of control she had over him when she wanted to.
“I wanna see this hidden personality, pretty boy,” She smiled with her teeth, and he felt his hands turn jittery in embarrassment.
“Okay, alright,” Spencer shook his arms out, clearing his throat with a growling sort of husk that made her raise her brows, and in a single blink he’d locked stern eyes with her, pointing to her with a completely un-Spencer-like stance; completely rose to his full height, confident and domineering, “I know what you’re thinking,”
She really hoped he didn’t. Because what she was really thinking was just how hot he sounded with that deep sort of timbre, that cocksure attitude.
“You’re thinking ‘Did that guy just fire five shots or did that guy just fire six shots?’” He went on, his tone deadly serious, as her lips parted in surprise, and what had started out as a game turned into some wildly lewd thoughts fast, “You’re going to have to ask yourself a question; Do you feel lucky, pun-k,”
She swallowed haughtily, as he squeezed his eyes shut and when he looked at her again he was entirely puppy like the way he usually looked, none the wiser to the way her stomach had coiled in want.
“That was Clint Eastwood from Dirty Harry,” He explained, looking to Penelope because he had no idea what that strange look on Bugsy’s face was, only to see his techy friend just as in awe, “I mean I know it’s not as effective as my dominant personality, but I really think it’s there-”
Penelope’s phone sprung to life with a call from Hotch and she quickly spluttered an excuse that they needed to leave right away, grabbing for her keys and heading for the door.
Spencer made a move to follow her, only to feel a hand grab his shirt and turn him right back around, Bugsy still staring at him with that look in her eye, like she’d had too much caffeine or been told there was a million dollars cash waiting for them at home.
“Is everything okay-”
“Is Clint Eastwood strictly a party trick or would I be able to have him on request, maybe?” She said, her hands oddly tight as they grabbed at his soft stomach, and it was like he heard the click in his brain when he realised what she meant.
“R-request, I guess,” He stumbled for composure, finding his footing when he felt her palms were clammy, “You got a thing for cops?”
“Just the one, I guess,” She said with a clenched jaw, and he laughed though it sounded more like a choke, as she darted right behind Penelope to avoid suspicion.
–
By the time the party rolled around, Penelope had decked her apartment out to the nines, marigolds and tissue garlands and lights and food of all sorts spread out across the altar, a mix of alcohol and juices available in pitchers, because Penelope was nothing if not a people pleaser.
The doorbell rang right as Alex and Bugsy poured themselves some margarita, complete with the eyeball ice cubes ofcourse, and Penelope fussed in her beautiful dress, muttering under her breath the way she did when she was nervous.
“What, what, what,” She murmured, her blonde curls bouncing with her steps as she reached for the door, “I thought you said you couldn’t come!”
Bugsy’s head whipped to the door, Aaron looking much more casual than they were used to seeing him as he entered the decorated home, his colleagues all dressed smartly and in some shade of black.
“Jack got a last minute sleepover invitation so I hope it’s okay,” He said, a bottle of rosé in his hand he’d brought as a contribution.
“Ofcourse, ofcourse,” Penelope sang, leading him over to the altar where everyone stood with their offerings, sipping on their glasses of liquor, “Okay, everybody, I guess it’s time to start, here you go sir,”
She handed him a freshly poured glass of wine, chilled courtesy of the eyeball, and Aaron thanked her kindly, taking a generous sip to catch up with the others.
“I want to thank everybody for doing this with me, and our altar’s burning, and I just feel so blessed to have you all here,” Penelope started with a grateful smile on her painted lips, a handful of old photos between her fingertips, “I will start, um, this is my mom and dad,” She said, nostalgia idling her tone as she gently placed down a worn picture of a teen couple holding a beautiful, blonde girl, eyes bigger than moons and full of curiosity, just how Bugsy would have imagined Penny as a baby, “I miss them. And this is my cat, Simba with his usual bowl of soda pop. He was a weird cat,”
The team chuckled, looking at the enormous ginger Tom that lapped at the bubbly liquid. Bugsy took a sip of her drink as JJ took a step forward with a smile, her own photo in hand.
“This is my sister, Roselyn. Ros.” JJ said, placing down a photo of a fifteen year old with identical eyes and nose to her, sitting it next to a small statue of the eiffel tower, “She always dreamed she’d live is Paris so um,” She swallowed, looking at her sister laying in the grass of their childhood home, something girlish in her gaze, “It didn’t happen but I thought this would bring her some happiness,”
They took it in turns bringing their offerings and pictures: David bringing some Cubs tickets for a soldier he had lost in Vietnam, Alex bringing a crossword for her mother, Spencer sliding down a picture of Maeve silently, alongside a cut out picture of Nikola Tesla, Morgan bringing his father, Hitch putting down the picture of Haley he kept in his wallet.
Which left them all to turn to the youngest agent, who seemed flustered.
“So, I fortunately have not lost anyone properly thus far, so bare with me here guys,” She said fishing out an old scrapbook photo of her as a seven year old, a small orange snake wrapped around the length of her arm, twenty two year old Emily standing right behind her, the pair of them with beaming smiles as the snake seemingly poked its tongue out for the camera.
Penelope clutched her chest in horror, “Is that a-”
“This is Tigger, the corn snake Emily gave to me when she left home,” She explained, and Spencer couldn’t help but smile at the million dollar grin she had in the photo, three of her front teeth missing sweetly, “I had him until I was about twelve before he kicked the serpent bucket, but he was cute for a slithery little guy,”
She drew another photo, an ultrasound showing two tiny embryos and she put it beside the picture of Tigger, and the group drew a shared breath.
“Bug, I never knew you were…” Spencer started, his stomach flipping when he saw the outline of the foetuses, only for the girl’s eyes to widen.
“No! No, it’s not like that, this is um,” She cleared her throat awkwardly, scratching the back of her hand with a guilty look, “This is the twin I absorbed in the womb,” She said, and she felt the rest of her team gawking at her without having to look, “I guess I’d like to say, uh, I’m sorry pal. It was nice while it lasted, I hope you can forgive me,”
“You’re being serious?” Morgan asked, gawping at the girl, right as Hotch broke out into disbelieving snickers, probably spurred on by the wine, and Alex was quick to join him, her hand over her mouth.
Bugsy turned to him with a ‘duh’ kind of look on her face, “Oh, 100% serious, yeah,”
“Is that why you’re a little…” Rossi started, only he found himself stuck for words when she looked at him betrayed.
“A little, what?” She asked, looking to JJ who cracked into a chuckle, putting her head in her palm.
“What he means is you have a big personality,” Alex said, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulder and giving her a motherly squeeze, hoping they hadn’t offended her, “And we wouldn’t change it for the world,”
“I should hope so, she got a double helping.” Morgan cackled, and Bugsy smacked his arm with a smile.
“Every time I think I know everything about you, you come out with something new,” Penelope said, her own snickering laugh meeting the girl’s ears, “You’re like Jason Bourne,”
“God help us if there had been two of you, Prentiss,” David added, patting the girl on the head as they laughed, and Penelope raised a toast to their altar, the rest of the team doing the same before they sipped out their cups and allowed themselves to enjoy the rest of the party.
–
“Oh, I have something for you!” Bugsy said, springing to her feet and almost tripping over Sergio who had curled up by her legs.
She’d cut herself off after her third, and by the time midnight rolled around she’d almost completely sobered up enough to the point her and Alex had been playing hangman except with only Old English words.
Her and Spencer had gotten home twenty minutes later, the two of them exhausted from an evening well spent, the melancholy happiness in the room draining them to the point Bugsy had immediately changed into her pyjamas when she got into the house.
Her pyjamas being Spencer’s boxers and one of his shirts since he’d inadvertently been hiding all of the underwear-top combinations she’d gotten from other flings that she’d brought when she moved into his.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” He said earnestly, and she simply waved his humble attitude off, the two of them sat on the sofa in their nightwear, flicking through the late night TV.
He smiled, watching her bustle into her room and root around her closet, before she emerged with a terracotta coloured pot of lilac flowers, whirling on her heel to head for him.
“What’s this?” Spencer asked, standing to meet her and Bugsy simpered, because she’d felt silly for buying them in the first place. Perhaps it was some left over guilt considering she’d spent the majority of Maeve’s existence in her life hating the girl, or atleast hating what she had that Bugsy thought she could never be privy to. Perhaps it was because all things considered she wanted Spencer to know that it was okay for him to mourn, because she’d never force him to hurry up his process when he’d been there for every second of hers.
She handed him the potted plant, the small purple petals in the shape of half moons lighting up at him, and his mind raced as to what species they were since he’d certainly never seen them around the East Coast before.
“Scaevola aemula,” She said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt around her waist as she spoke because his eyes were unnervingly doe-like when he looked at her in the dark lamp light, “It’s called the fairy fan flower. I thought-"
She paused, her expression morphing into embarrassment, "Wait, this is so stupid, I’ll send them back,” She shook her head, the worry overtaking the rational part of her as she grabbed for the pot to stash it back in her room, but he held it out of her reach, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her body against his hip, as the other stretched out to keep her from snatching back the plant.
“Tell me. What?” He said, his lips stretching into a devious smile to see her so shy suddenly, and she buried her face into her hands as he watched her, “I'm not going to think it's stupid. Why did you get me these?”
“They’re not for you- well, they are, but I just thought,” She stumbled over her sentences, her heart thumping that this was entirely the wrong move, that she was poking at an open wound no matter how caring she was being. Clearing her throat, she let her forehead thump onto his shoulder, her eyes squeezing shut as she spoke, “I thought you could keep it so that you can think of Maeve every time you water it, since Maeve was the name of the fairy queen,”
He was quiet. God, why was he so quiet? Her breath was thick as molasses as they sat in the silence for a second. She nearly jumped a foot in the air when two of his fingers ran delicately beneath her chin, tilting her head up enough that he could see her face and she drew a sigh of relief when she saw he didn’t seem angry or hurt at all.
His eyes were soft as pools of honey as he looked at her, his brows stirring into a sad-happy mix.
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” She whispered, their faces so close they were sharing breath, and he shook his head, his fingers never leaving her skin where they forced her to stay near, gave her no choice but to keep her looking at him. She didn’t think she could stop even if she wanted to. Everything pretty about him was dialled to a thousand whenever she got close, and his thick lashes blinked at her like he was seeing a mirage, a daydream.
“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, Bug,” Spencer murmured back to her, his every word fanning over the bridge of her nose, and she sighed in content, melting back into his side as he pulled her into a hug, his own face burying into the crook of her neck, “Thankyou,”
She smiled and hummed in happiness, wrapping her arms around his slender waist and drawing him so close she got a whiff of his shampoo.
“I have a bigger pot in my room, if you like, then we can keep it in the kitchen sill, away from the boys,” She offered, beaming at him when he stroked over the back of her hair affectionately. She hopped out of the embrace, “I’ll go get it for you-”
“You’ve done enough, Bug,” Spencer reminded, something grateful in his tone as she paused and waited for whatever he was going to say, “I’ll go get the pot, you go decide what movie we should watch,”
“You’re sure?” Bugsy asked, her brows furrowed as she checked for signs of an escape in his movements. But he just smiled back at her tiredly, the purple flowers his accomplice as she gave in and headed back towards the sofa, “It’s by my dresser, where my paper bin used to be,”
He set the gift on the kitchen table, the lilac hues brightening up the kitchen already like they just knew how touched Spencer felt to have received them, like there really was some kind of fairy magic burrowed into the soil as they watched the two of them dance around one another, heading to opposite ends of the apartment with lingering glances and bashful smiles.
Spencer thought his chest couldn’t swell any bigger in size, his heart so inevitably full of her, it left room for no one else, not even Maeve, which was the first time he’d brought himself to think that in months.
+1 The one with the book.
He opened the door to her bedroom, her duvet tossed everywhere because it was a rare occasion she made her bed before they left for work, her clothes strewn about the floor in the general direction of the bathroom, like she’d stripped on the way there, and the thought of it made his stomach seize with a heat, the idea of her undressing little more than a wall away from him knocking his every thought from his head.
The vase. He needed a bigger vase.
Quickly collecting her clothes up and shoving them into her laundry basket for her, he diverted his attention to her dresser, where the slightly roomier pot sat on the floor, a towel underneath it to catch any water remnants and he stepped over her various note pads and books she’d clearly tossed off the bed before she went to sleep.
He tried to ignore them, he really did, but his scratching urge to keep things tidy for her wrestled with his conscience that said to leave her stuff alone. Before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself organising them into a neat pile in his hands and placing them on top of her dresser where one of her books had made it safely, or at least safe enough she wouldn’t trip over it.
His gaze dropped to the book already on there, its leather cover entirely melting into the background of the dark chestnut dresser, yet it stared daggers up at him like it had been waiting to be noticed.
Great Expectations, Charles Dickens.
The book looked old enough to be easily from original 1900s, at least one of the first few hundred published. It was scuffed a little on the edges, the black lettering of the printed title choppy in places where it had been handled recklessly, and the leaves of paper were atom thin. The smell of dust and paper clouded his nose when he picked it up delicately.
Opening the front cover curiously to see its printed date, he was stopped in his tracks to see a little post it note on the title page, covering Mr Dickens’ name with a scrawled handwriting he’d known for six years.
Six whole years. Nearly seven. He felt like he’d known her his whole life, when in startling reality he’d not even known her a third of it.
And there it was, where he was expecting a list of notes or her thoughts on how David Copperfield had much more likeable characters, anything that she’d thought important enough to scratch down on the front page, instead was his name.
Spencer,
He felt his breath catch the second he read it, contemplated slamming the book shut right then and there because this felt illicit to read whatever it was she’d scribbled out just for him even if it was dedicated to the stupid man who’d been asking her to wait on his stupid head and stupider heart to align so he could give her exactly everything she deserved.
His gaze snapped away from the page, that voice in his head telling him this was wrong, that if she’d wanted him to see that book she would have given it to him already. And yet, like it did most days, the beating organ in his chest writhed in annoyance that he’d looked away, that he’d followed the rules one too many times for its liking. He bit his cheek, the two halves of himself arguing amongst themselves.
After a second of debating, his eyes fell slowly to the note, a creeping guilt skirting down his spine that he was reading something private. How could something be private and yet meant for him? His brain scoffed at the dichotomy of it all, while his chest lurched when he caught a glimpse of more of her writing.
‘Spencer,’ His heart trembled almost as much as his hand as he traced the writing with his forefinger, imagining her writing it out in a little ball point pen, her body slumped over the book with every intent of having him read her little note. He imaged her breath fanning across the page, her hand warm as her knuckles stroked over the paper, and it felt so much more intimate than a little post-it when he thought of her like that, ‘By the time you’re reading this I’ll be back home from London and we’ll probably be in your apartment doing that stupid thing we do when we pretend like I haven’t missed you more than anything in the whole world while I’ve been here in England,’
She wrote this in London, probably in that tiny apartment her and Emily had rented on a short lease, the one she’d said smelled like mildew and dust and wet wood but had a gorgeous view of Hyde Park when she looked out her bedroom window.
She’d written it months ago, so why hadn’t she given it to him?
‘I miss you every day. You’re all I think about when I go for a run, and I think sometimes you’d really like it here. I’ve mapped out all the bookshops I’ve found and all the places that do really good coffee if you ever did want to visit England, but I think I’d be happy with you even if we lived in a little ditch on the side of the road like two drowning rats,’
His chest seized, tears lining his lashes when he thought about that day she’d yanked him into a hug the second she saw him, when he’d been too busy thinking about Maeve and burying whatever he felt for Bugsy entirely behind him.
You should have called, Bug. He’d said, like his eidetic memory wanted to twist the knife in just that bit deeper, and he didn’t need his freaky brain to remember how her face had fallen when he’d said it like that. Like he didn’t even want to see her.
He hated himself. He hated himself more than she’d ever had. Even if she had more rights than anyone to despise his selfish guts.
‘Anyway, I know Dickens isn’t your favourite or anything, but I got you this because I know you like the original copies and because it made me think of you (but then again, what doesn’t?).
I never truly enjoyed the living part of life until you were in mine. And so I guess that means I’ll love you until the life part stops too.
All my heart,
Bug.’
He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until he finished the note, digesting every single word the average speed instead of his usual method of inhaling the letters faster than should be possible, like he wanted to savour every single one because they’d come from her.
He heard her saying every single one, the thought striking him like someone had cracked him across the face with a paddle. She’d wanted to say all of this when she was in London, when he’d been too busy for her, when he’d been too busy with Maeve.
I never truly enjoyed the living part of life until you were in mine.
“Did you find it?” Her voice called from the other room, no doubt where she was settling down to flick the movie on, her heart so delicate and gracious because she was still waiting for him.
Even now, even when she was in his clothes and under the blanket she’d brought from her apartment for them to use on movie nights because it got cold too fast in his house, when she was waiting for him to come back.
Spencer felt knocked out of a dream, like someone had yanked the chord on his music, shaken him awake into the freezing realisation she was waiting for a reply.
He’d made her wait long enough.
He barely heard her footsteps entering her own room, probably worried when he hadn’t responded and she said his name, “Spence?” A shudder rolled over his neck when he heard it, a siren song he’d been hearing like a mantra for weeks and he felt something fat and full well in his chest when he turned to look at her, standing there in nothing but boxers and a shirt, just as she had when he’d first met her.
Except she was his. She was waiting on his call, on his signal, on his word go.
And it was like the idea of being with her for the rest of his life made his living part worth it too. Like it always had done.
Her eyes fell down to where his hand rested on top of the book, the page splayed open where he’d delicately flicked it open, the yellow post-it catching in the light and making her expression fall.
They looked at each other, the same thought channelling between them, their brains meshed together on some other kind of bluetooth the same way they’d always done, only this time it was a prickling hive mind that gave them both gooseflesh the second they locked eyes.
“Why didn’t you give me this?” He asked, his voice small because he already knew the answer, not daring to move a muscle like she was some kind of deer ready to be spooked.
“You were busy,” She said equally as sheepish, her thumb moving to pick the side of her nail when she saw his still stature. They went quiet again, neither of them daring so much as to breathe too loud because they both knew what was on that note. It was the closest she could ever come to splitting open her own chest and handing him that thumping wad of bloodied muscle herself, and it was only when he turned to look at her did she panic, words tumbling from her lips; anything to stop him from walking away because she’d been poking around a fresh wound, “You weren’t supposed to see- I mean you were but only when you wanted to, I didn’t want you to think-”
Except he wasn’t heading for the door like she’d thought, he was heading straight for her.
“Spence, please, I wasn’t going to tell you until-” But she’d shut up, because instead of replying anything back to her, instead of telling her she could have his heart and his soul and everything in between if she’d ever ask for it again, instead of telling her she was the thing that had kept him alive, like she might as well be the blood that rushed through every one of his veins, he grabbed her face in his hands so hard her back hit the wall, her hands flying out to stop herself from falling.
And he kissed her, so hard he thought he might cry because it was better than any high he’d ever had, any drug on the market, better than his wildest dreams. She froze for a second, worried she’d tripped and fallen on her way over, that this was a concussion spun wild, because there was no way he was kissing her with every inch of their available skin pressing against one another, his hands swallowing her cheeks whole, his body invading her space, his breath rushing through her nose that bumped against his clumsily.
Bugsy woke up after a second, her hands gripping onto his slender waist like he was pulling her drowning out of water, like he was dragging her from a flame which she didn’t think sounded too far off since her skin had become molten, her cheeks hot, her chest wrenching for control like she’d inhaled black smoke.
But he was there, kissing her like she was all he had left, and she kissed him back with equal fervour, whimpering when he bit her lip, a hand wrapping around her waist to tug her just that bit closer to his stomach. Any molecule of her that was left behind was stolen by the action, and all she could think was that every inch of her was his, entirely his, his forever if he wanted it.
“I love you, I love you so much,” He gasped, drawing away for a split second of air before he took her lips to his own once more, twice, and a third for good luck, their teeth knocking together as he wanted to tell her that a million more times while still kissing her, “I love you, I love you. God, I don’t think I ever want to stop saying it,”
He pulled her to him again, silencing his own stupid ramblings of a mad man, a whine dragging from his throat as his brows furrowed, his lips soft and plump as he kissed her like he was begging for honey after a hundred day fast.
And she smiled into his mouth, because Spencer was finally hers.
--
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#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#matthew grey gubler x reader#Matthew gray Gubler x reader
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hi, idk if request are open but if they are can you please write a percy x reader fanfic where they hate each other but one thing leads to another and it gets kinda steamy
⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Enemies To Fuckers
content: percy jackson x reader fic
warning: language, mentions of sexual stuff but nothing extremely explicit, arguments but making up (ish)
author's note: okay hot ass take rn - like center of the earth hot or leo valdez hot - i can't stand enemies to lovers. IM SORRY I KNOW ITS A BIG THING BUT THE CHILD OF DIVORCE THAT I AM CANNOT STAND IT!! like, no, i refuse to let my love be hard and painful like my parents, even if it does come from a good place. i just can't picture hate turning into love, even if it wasn't ever hate in the first place. that's what it was displayed as and the thought makes me want to throw up- ANYWAYS IGNORE THAT TRAUAMA DUMP FRFR ENJOY THIS OKAY BYE BYE
"you're insufferable!"
"feelings mutual, jackson!"
"rot in tartarus!"
"if it means getting away from you, gladly!"
"okay, okay, break it up," jason huffed, shoving his way between the two and pushing them apart. he glared at each of them before pointing off to separate sides of the argo ii.
"i don't want to see you two near each other for the next hour."
"she started it," percy whined, pointing accusatorily at her.
"did not!" the girl insisted, glaring at the son of poseidon.
"did too!"
"did no-"
"STOP! gods, you're giving me a headache. you two need to start getting along...go!" he shooed, shoving percy one way and you the other. the two of you held each other's glare for as long as possible before getting cut off by the walls that stood between the two of you. y/n rolled her eyes as she lost percy, making her way towards the kitchen. she breathed out a small breath as she started grabbing all the things she needed to make a cup of tea. y/n wasn't a naturally angry person but something about the blasted percy jackson just had her seething. everything from his dumb soft-looking hair, to his stupid stunning green-blue eyes, to his foolishly handsome face- wait, what?
she quickly shook her head, physically trying to get rid of the thoughts. she placed the kettle on the burner, sitting for the water to boil, leaning back against the counter next to the stove. then she heard footsteps and percy walked into the kitchen before huffing out a breath.
"i was here first. get lost, sea boy," you bit out, rolling your eyes as she continued to move into the kitchen.
"don't worry. i'm not here to see you. just grabbing some snacks and then you can be bitchy in here by yourself," percy mocked, throwing a fake salute your way, before reaching for whatever snacks he wanted.
"gods, do you ever shut the fuck up?" you asked, with a mock pitchy voice. percy pulled a face, mocking you under his breath with a roll of his eyes. you sighed heavily, reaching towards the kettle and going to pour it into your mug, at the same time looking away to glare at percy.
"do you realize that you're, like, a massive cun-"
"wait, its-"
"shit! ow, fuck!" you hissed, instantly pulling your hand back from the boiling water that you managed to pour all over your hand. tears instantly pooled in your eyes and had anyone else been in the kitchen with you, you'd be a puddle on the floor. but this was percy. who, strangely enough, was quickly taking care of the boiling water and kettle before gently grasping your hand in his to inspect. you tried to blame the blush filling your cheeks on embarrassment or rage, but you knew what it was.
"next time you wanna call me names, don't do it while pouring boiling water," hissed percy, reaching under the sink and producing a first aid kit. he easily wrapped your hand and you couldn't seem to take your eyes off his focused but worried face. worried...about you. the boy, who you were certain would serve you on a silver platter to any monster who offered him a penny and pre-chewed gum, was worried about you.
"thank you," you whispered as he finished, pulling your hand back. percy rolled his eyes but it was softer than usual, leaning back against the counter and hanging his head.
"yeah, uh, no problem. can't pick on you if youre hurt. think it counts as ableism or something," he replied, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. you nodded slowly, biting on your lip as your gaze drifted off.
"you shouldn't do that."
"hm?"
"your lip," he clarified, nodding with his head, "it- it's bad for you."
"oh yeah?" you taunted, squinting at him as you could sense the lie.
"yup."
"and, totally, not because it gets you all hot and bothered?" you added, tilting your head innocently. percy froze, clearing his throat before glaring over at you.
"no, of course not-"
"your dick is fighting you here," you winked, darting your eyes down before looking back into his eyes. percy burst into a deep shade of red, adjusting his body to hide behind an open cabinet door as you laughed.
"you didn't pay attention in biology then, because it also happens when you are just filled with so much rage-"
"sure, buddy," you teased, taking a few steps forwards before taking his chin into your hand, gently turning it before pressing a kiss just to the corner of his lips. a shuttering breath left his lips, fanning across your cheek.
"you're cute when you're not calling me a bitch," you mused, softly glancing up at him. percy breathed out a laugh, his eyes locked on yours.
"took you long enough to catch on," he taunted, unable to look away from the girl who's affection he's been trying to win for weeks.
"hmm, wanna make up for lost time?" she offered, tugging a small part of her lip into her mouth with her teeth. percy groaned, shooting his hand forwards and roughly pulling her face to smash into his, lips clashing and fighting for dominance. you two were tugging at each other, all the pent up anger melting away into a pure drive to keep each other's hands on the other.
as percy's hand slide under your shirt and as your hips brushed against his, the door to the kitchen swung open, to reveal a fuming jason grace.
"when i said you needed to start getting along, this is not what i meant. people eat here, you know."
#postcards from covey ౨ৎ#all my love ౨ৎ#pjo#pjo fandom#hoo#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader
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spinning
billy the kid x wife!reader | billy isn't afraid to sing his heart out to the girl he loves as he spins her around the kitchen |
you held his hand up high as you twirled around him, the record on repeat as billy mumbled the lyrics in your ear
after you spun, he wrapped you in his tight grip, your head pressed to his chest as he sways with you softly
"I can't heellppp fallin' in loooove wiiith youuuuu!" billy sings, you giggle as turn to see him. blue eyes practically sparkling with love as he smooths the back side of your nightgown
"I'll sing for my girl!" he proudly announces, hands moving up to squish your cheeks to meet his lips in a kiss filled with pure love
"take my hand! take my whole life tooooo!" he sings, pushing you up against the counter with the abandoned pancake batter still splattered everywhere.
as if you weighed nothing, he picked you up and placed you on the counter. his hand gripped your bare knees as he kissed you, lips softly expressing every word he cannot think of to how much he loves you
his hands brushed up, hiking your dress until he held your thighs. he softly bit your lower lip as you giggled
"don't tease me, billy" you smiled and he looked playfully offended
"oh dear, I'd never tease you."
"uhuh, you're a liar!" you smiled and he kissed all over your face, squeezing your thighs before removing his hands from your dress
with a hand, he brought you down from the counter and scooped the messy bowl of batter
"put another record on!" he called out and you did, right as the needle landed he gasped in realization
"and I love you soooo!" he sang, stirring the mixture as you danced your way over to him
"people ask me howww!" he kissed you again, the bowl between you both
your hips swayed as you danced around your husband, he used the whisk as his microphone as he belted lyrics to the love song
you couldn't stop the grin that was sewn on your lips as your love for this man tripled daily
"now that you're around me, now you know" he said as the record went silent and laid a kiss on your forehead
"I love you, billy" you whispered and you swear you saw the cowboy blush
"I love you more!"
an: I know Elvis WASN'T around during billy's time...but I had to have him sing it for you 🥺💞 I love you guys so much!
#billy the kid#the hunger games#ballad of songbirds and snakes#billy the kid x reader#coriolanus x reader#the hunger games imagine#tom blyth#billy the kid 2022#catching fire#coriolanus snow#tom blyth x you#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth imagine#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#corio snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#president snow#coryo snow#coryo x reader#tbosas#snow lands on top#coriolanus snow x you#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosbas#billy the kid x you#billy the kid fanfiction#hunger games x reader
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title: The Other Woman (REWORKED)
pairing: CEO!Mingyu x fem!reader
genre: romance, found family, angst, fluff, smut
warnings: mentions of not being able to have children, mentions of death (mingyu is widowed), smut (MDNI), oral (f and m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk concerning being better in bed than someone else, mentions of being sick (mingyu gets a cold), slight miscommunication angst
synopsis: You’re married to Wonwoo, but his father desperately wants him to have a child - which you cannot have. He gives into his parents wishes and meets the other woman, whom he eventually agrees to marry as well. You’re left heartbroken for a few years, seeing the man you love build a family that you had always wanted, but happiness is on the horizon as you meet someone new.
wordcount: 31k
taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag
a/n: the other woman is probably my most popular fic series, but i've always hated it. i felt like it was rushed, and not well thought out - so i've remade it (same plot, just a few minor changes)!
thank you so much for 3k followers! consider this my thanks for sticking around <3
thank you @wongyuseokie for beta reading this!
join my taglist - masterlists
read the original mini-series: part one, part two, part three
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
PART ONE.
The sun managed to peek into the bedroom through the blinds, stirring you awake. As you moved around slightly, trying to stretch the sleep out of the limbs, you felt the man beside you grip onto your waist. “Stay,” Wonwoo murmured in his raspy morning voice.
You turn to Wonwoo, putting your hands in his hair, and look down at him. His head was by your chest, resting his forehead against your bare skin. He got home late last night, staying at work until the sun was far down behind the horizon. You had dressed up for him last evening, wearing a new slip dress that he had gotten for you, but you managed to fall asleep before he got home. Mornings like these were unusual and always welcomed.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” you said. “I took the day off too.”
“Lucky me.” He looked up at you with a grin. “I feel bad for the kids, though… they don’t get to see their favorite teacher.”
“I’m not their favorite,” you correct him. “And they’ll be fine if I’m gone for just one day… it’s worth it for this.”
Wonwoo leaned up to your face and placed a kiss on your lips, then mumbled something about you being perfect. You watched him sit up and reach for his glasses, enjoying the view of his naked form. You had lucked out - your husband was the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. He turned to you again, giving you a soft smile.
���You look beautiful,” he said and reached over to touch your silky nightdress. “Is it the one I got for you?”
“Of course,” you murmured. “I put it on for you last night, but you got home later than usual.”
“I know.” Wonwoo sighed. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay… make it up for me?” With a big grin, he got on top of you and gave you another kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his lips traveled down your jaw to your neck. It’s been a while since you got to have this kind of morning, and it was just what you needed.
After you got out of the shower, you patted yourself dry with a towel before you changed into one of Wonwoo’s shirts. Wonwoo, who was already one step ahead of you, was making coffee in the kitchen. You had done this hundreds of times before; Wonwoo handed you a cup of coffee which you accepted and watched as he took out a few leftover side dishes from the fridge.
“Have you heard from your father yet?” you asked.
“Last night…” Wonwoo sighed. “We’ll meet him at the restaurant.”
“And you don’t know what he wants?”
“Not really.” He walks over to you after putting the side dishes on the counter. “Let’s not think about it- we took a day off so that we could spend a calm day before having to meet with him.”
“I know I just…” You took a deep breath. “I know how he feels about me. It feels weird that he asked to see us both.”
“Hey, don’t do that.” Wonwoo put his hands on your upper arms. “I don’t care what he says. You’re my wife. You come first.”
Despite his kind words, you can’t help the feeling of anxiety growing in your chest. Later that day, after hours of cuddling up on the couch and doing nothing together, you were getting ready for dinner. You had dolled yourself up - your makeup and hair were done, but your dress was still lying on the bed. Wonwoo always liked it when you walked around in his clothes, and you enjoyed his eyes on you.
“Do you think he’s just doing it as a formality? It is our anniversary soon…” you thought out loud. “It’s not like him, but maybe,” he hummed.
“Could you help me with my tie, honey?” He never actually needed help with his tie, but he knew it put your mind off of things if you did something with your hands. You walked up to him and took hold of the two ends of his tie.
“You look pretty,” Wonwoo said. “I’m not even dressed up yet,” you huffed. “Still pretty.”
You tried and failed to stop yourself from smiling. Wonwoo always knew how to make you feel better, even if it was just temporary. As soon as you had finished his tie, you went to put on your dress. As you pulled the straps over your shoulder, Wonwoo came up behind you to pull up the zipper. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder and slowly pulled the zipper up, and the feeling of his fingers against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.
“Let’s get this dinner over with,” he muttered in your ear, “I already want to have you for myself.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The restaurant was scarce of customers, but it still felt like you were taking up too much space. Wonwoo sat next to you at the table. His father was late, but when he finally approached the table, Wonwoo grabbed your hand and squeezed it. As you ate, the atmosphere was thick. Except for the usual small talk, none of you said much. While you were waiting for the second course, the topic of children was brought up by Wonwoo’s father.
“Father…” your husband sighed. “I’m allowed to ask about the company’s heir, aren’t I?”
“Of course you are, sir.” You put a hand on Wonwoo’s knee. “We’ve been talking about adoption, right?” Before Wonwoo could answer you, his father interrupted him.
“Adoption?” He scoffed. “Then it’s not your real child, though, is it?”
“We’ve talked about this,” Wonwoo said. “The doctor said-”
“That she can’t have children, I know.” His father interrupted him again. “I just think there are other ways.” You looked at Wonwoo with a big clump in your throat, but he refused to meet your gaze.
“What do you mean? Surrogacy?” Wonwoo asked. “No, I just mean that… if this relationship with Y/N isn’t working out, then maybe you should find someone else- a mistress.” Wonwoo’s father spoke as if you weren’t in the room with them.
“Dad, I’m not cheating on my wife-”
“Don’t call it a mistress then.” He shrugged. “Call it a new wife. You can always remarry.”
“Father-”
“You need an heir.”
“I’ve heard enough.” You stood up. “If you’re going to talk like I’m not even here, then I don’t want to be here. You’ll just find any reason to hate me, won’t you? We’re going through with surrogacy if we’re going to have children. I don’t care what you think about it.”
As you stormed out, you noticed that Wonwoo didn’t immediately follow after you. His absence worried you, but you still went through with getting your coat checked out and walking out of the restaurant to hail a cab. Finally, Wonwoo came out after you and grabbed your hand.
“Y/N-” “Why didn’t you defend me in there?” you questioned him. “You just let him degrade me like that in front of you!”
“Let’s just talk about this, he-”
“You know how hard I’ve been trying.” Tears were welling up in your eyes. “I want to have a family with you, Wonwoo, you know that. It’s hard for me, and hearing him say that hurts. His ‘suggestion’ is off the table if you’re even thinking about staying married to me. It’s so fucking obvious he just wants you to leave me, he won’t even accept surrogacy- if you try to reason with him, I don’t know you anymore.” A cab stopped in front of you, and you opened up the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m staying at my mother’s place. I need to be alone,” you said. “But we need to talk about this-” He reached for you, and you pulled back.
“Don’t touch me!” You yelled and got in the cab.
When you got to your mother’s apartment, she was waiting for you with open arms. You had told her what had happened through text while you were in the cab. She was just about ready to go to the restaurant and curse out Wonwoo’s father herself.
“What a heartless man!” she exclaimed as she held you in her arms.
“It’s alright, Mom.” You sighed. “I’m going to go back home tomorrow and talk about it with Wonwoo.”
“You know he’s to blame here, too, right?”
“Mom… Wonwoo didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly.” She pulled back from the hug. “He should’ve stood up for you, honey.”
“Can we not talk about this, please?”
“Alright, just come inside.” You walked into her apartment and slept on her couch for the night.
The text you wake up to the next morning isn’t what you wanted. It was a short “We need to talk” text from Wonwoo. You answered by saying that you’d be home when he was home from work, and all you received back was “good”. Good. That’s all he had to say after what his father had said to you last night. Nevertheless, you went back home and waited for your husband.
“My father introduced me to someone else,” were words you never expected to hear from Wonwoo’s mouth. You were already sobbing, sitting on the couch in your living room. He was cold, not rubbing your back or bringing you in for a hug. You’ve never wanted his comfort more than right now.
“Listen, Y/N,” he said. “I’ll marry her- she’ll have my children-” Your loud sob interrupted him, and he finally touched you for the first time since last night. His hand on your back left a burning mark. “I’ll come back to you.”
“What?” You looked at him, your vision blurry from tears.
“After I get an heir, which is the only thing that my father wants, I’ll come back to you,” he explained.
“Wonwoo, that’s insane-”
“Don’t you understand? After I get an heir, my father will be out of our lives- it’s all he wants from me.”
He took your hands in his, holding them gently and bringing them up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you had trouble understanding what he was truly thinking. How was this easier than just cutting off his dad? You assumed he had talked with him about it, but you were left in the dark.
“And you think this will work?”
“Yes- I believe in us.”
“Fine… I trust you.”
Once the divorce was finalized, and Wonwoo had moved out, you realized just how big your apartment was. He had left you the place to not burden you with the troubles of moving. The woman Wonwoo married, Gyeong Hui, was one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen. She was gracious and poised, and she was everything that Wonwoo’s father expected from his son’s wife. For the first few months, you keep close contact with your ex-husband. But as time passes, your relationship fades. His final call to you was a normal Thursday afternoon. There was no warning, and it somehow made it worse.
“Gyeong Hui is pregnant…” Wonwoo said. “I don’t think I can… I just realized how fragile the situation is- I can’t leave the mother of my child. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
All you could manage to say was, “It’s okay”, and even then, your voice was breaking. You hang up before he can say anything else and pack up a few things to go live with your mother. Social media was a hellhole, seeing them move to the suburbs together- Wonwoo always said he hated the suburbs. Your dream together was to have a small family in the apartment that you had together… all of it, your wishes and your dreams, was gone. Your mom tried her best to cheer you up. She offered to have girls’ night, to go get your nails done, or spend the evening drinking wine and watching rom-coms. None of it sounded appealing to you, and you instead opted to stay in bed most of the time. You only went up to eat or use the bathroom, sometimes going for a walk or trying to get some other form of movement in. She gave up eventually, or so you thought. A year and a half had passed since you broke it off when your mom approached you at the breakfast table.
“Here, look at this,” she shoved her phone in front of your face.
“A cabin?”
“Cottage,” she corrected you. “It’s your aunt’s, and it’s absolutely dreamlike. It’s in the middle of nowhere, in a beautiful forest, and close to a lake.”
“It does look beautiful.” You looked through the photos.
“I’ve been asking her to borrow it forever,” she explained. “And she finally said it’ll be empty for a couple of weeks.”
“Oh? Are you gonna go?” You gave her back her phone. “I was thinking it’d be nice for you to get out into nature… you can borrow my car and go out there right now. Get off your phone and get to spend some time with yourself.”
“Mom-”
“And if you don’t want to be alone, she has a lot of neighbors!”
“Mom-”
“I just think it’s perfect for you, darling,” she said. “It’ll be good, I promise.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
You decide to take your mom’s advice. The drive there was beautiful, but when you arrived you realized it wouldn’t be all that therapeutic - for you, it was mostly bug bites and muddy shoes. The houses were beautiful, especially your aunt’s cottage. The red brick contrasted nicely with the dark roof - and there was ivy growing on the side of the building. No house looked the same. It was your favorite thing about this place. Your neighbor had a cute yellow house, and the one next to that one was blue. It continued for a few more cottages, and they all looked adorable. The outside was gorgeous, but the inside was like nothing you had ever seen before. It felt like walking into a Ghibli movie. The wooden floors creaked under your feet, the walls had a beautiful green wallpaper with flowers, and everything was decorated in a cohesive maximalist style. It wasn’t as big as the other houses, but still had two levels - the second floor only being a bedroom and bathroom - and it was more than enough for you. So, you spent your time indoors, and you realized that you did want to be alone… but, of course, your neighbors couldn’t know that. Most of them were retired, but a few of them were only a little older than you. They told you that they just wanted to come check on who the new person could be. There couldn’t be a lot happening there if you were the biggest piece of gossip to talk about. As more neighbors decided to stop by, you grew more tired of their visits - even if they were short-lived. So when there was another knock at your door, you didn’t open it with a smile.
“Hello?”
In front of you stood a gorgeous, tall man. Black short hair, golden tan skin, and a body that was practically built by the gods. He was wearing sweatpants and a white t-shirt with paint splatter on it. Not wanting to seem like a creep, you looked up at his face again. However, when meeting his eyes, you were filled with a sense of calm. They were kind and well-meaning, which made your sour welcome all the more embarrassing.
“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Kim Mingyu.” He took his hand off a plastic box and reached it out to you. His handshake was strong, but not in the way that men usually tried to display their dominance. You didn’t know if it was in your head, but it felt safe - protective. Maybe it was just the lack of men in your life at the moment, but you were tingling at his touch.
“I’m Jeo…. Y/L/N Y/N.” You took your hand back from his hold. “My aunt let me stay here for a bit.” Almost saying your ex’s last name, instead of your own, in front of this handsome stranger felt horrifying. But Mingyu didn’t seem to notice, or he pretended not to for your sake.
“Well, I’m your next-door neighbor- so if there’s anything you need, you can let me know.” Friendly and hot. This might have been the luckiest you’ve felt in over a year.
“Oh, is it your cottage?”
“No, no- it’s my parents’ place. I’m just fixing it up for them so that they can enjoy it during the summer months,” he explained and looked down at his box. “Oh, right. I got you a little welcome gift- I don’t know if you like muffins, but…”
He held it out to you, and you finally got a proper look at it. The bottom of it was read, but the top was see-through. Dark red muffins, about six of them, were lined up perfectly inside the box. Red velvet. You wondered if he had made them himself or if he had bought them from some expensive bakery.
“I love muffins,” you assured him and accepted the box. “Thank you, Mingyu.”
“No problem,” he said, “And, if you’re into barbecue, our other neighbor is having one later this evening.”
“Oh, I don’t know… I don’t really know them. I feel like I’d be intruding.”
“You can come over with me. I’ll keep you company all night if you don’t like them,” he joked.
“Well, that’s certainly a tempting offer…” You thought about your mom and how much she’d want you to try to move on. “Alright, when is it?”
“I’ll come by around six and pick you up,” he recommended.
“Sounds good,” you said. “See you then.” “Can’t wait.” He sent you a flirtatious smile before leaving.
You watched Mingyu leave, not so subtly checking him out, before closing the door. Walking into the kitchen, you opened up the box of muffins and were immediately hit with a velvety aroma. After putting the box on the kitchen island, you picked one of them up and tasted it. The muffin practically melted in your mouth. It was perfectly fluffy and not too sweet.
“Holy fuck.” You put your hand over your mouth. Was this man good at everything?
Not wanting to look like you’ve been in bed all day, despite definitely having done just that, you put on a blue linen dress and try to look a little put together. You don’t want to tarnish your aunt’s good name by being a messy niece. Mingyu knocked on your door at six o’clock sharp, and when you opened the door, you were met with a surprise. He had changed into white linen pants and a light blue dress shirt. You were matching.
“Hi again,” he said with a smile. “Ready to go?”
“Oh, um…” You looked back into the cottage and grabbed your bag. “Sure… should I bring something?”
“If you have something to bring.” You went into the kitchen and picked up a bottle of rosé you had brought with you. It was one of your favorite bottles. It had been chilled in the fridge, now at the perfect drinking temperature. When you walked back outside, you held up the bottle of wine for him to see. Mingyu whistled when he saw the label, and you handed it over to him to let him get a closer look.
“Nice stuff.” He held the bottle gently so that he didn’t heat it with his hands.
“You can thank-” Wonwoo. Wonwoo showed you this wine first. He said that it’d be just your taste. He wasn’t wrong, which was nice at the time, but now it made you want to scream.
“Who can I thank?” Mingyu’s question brought you out of your thoughts.
“The woman in the store,” you lied. “Let’s go.”
Your neighbor’s backyard was full of laughter. You could hear it from outside your cottage. Walking up to the blue house, you felt your heart start pounding. Mingyu opened the door for you, and you were met with a scenery that you swore you had dreamed of. Large families - grandparents, parents, children - were all gathered. They were drinking, eating, playing - and it made you want to vomit. You pressed the bottle of wine into Mingyu’s chest, and he quickly took hold of it.
“I’m sorry, I’m not feeling that well… I think I need to go home.” You backed away from the house. “Tell the host my best wishes… and that I’m sorry." Mingyu probably tried to stop you, but you wouldn’t know since you quickly turned on your heel and briskly walked away. It wasn’t safe at all. Staying here wasn’t the paradise that your mom had made it out to be.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
You packed up your things the very next day and put them in your car. It was early in the morning, the sun had barely just started rising, and yet Mingyu was out for a run. He ran past your car as you were putting the second bag in.
“Hey there, neighbor.” Even his voice was hot. You looked over at him. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, which was sticking to his chest from sweat. A cap was placed on his head, but you could still see his face - shiny from sweat but pretty nonetheless. Could he just look bad for one moment? Just so that it could be easier for you to resist the urge to jump him…
“You run this early in the morning?” You asked.
“Only when I’m out here,” he said. “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, I just… I don’t think nature’s for me.” You crossed your arms over your chest.
“How would you know?” He asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been here two days, and you’ve only been indoors.” You were stumped. He was right, of course, but you desperately wanted him to be wrong. He approached you, still breathing hard. God, you wanted to climb him like a tree.
“Listen, I can see that you’ve got something going on,” he said, “And I promise you, this is the best place to be when you’re wound up. If this was meant to be therapeutic for you, then I think you need to try a little harder than what you have.”
If it weren’t for the fact that he made you weak in the knees, you would’ve just walked away from him. You stayed, and you listened… and he wasn’t wrong.
“So then, what do you suggest I do?” You secretly hoped he’d suggest that you go home with him, but life wasn’t a porno…
“Well, I don’t know your struggles.” He shrugged. “But I can show you around, make you appreciate nature.”
“... I’d like that.” “Good.” He grinned. “Do you want to meet up later? Maybe after lunch? I was thinking of going out to the lake if you want to tag along.”
“Sure.” You took out the bags from the car and carried them back inside. Mingyu’s presence beside you made you heat up. He picked up the last of the bags and helped you carry them to the door. You thanked him with a small smile, and he gave you a wink before jogging over to his cottage.
Later that day, you change into a swimsuit and put on an oversized shirt to cover up while you walk over to the lake. With a towel under your arm, you went to look for Mingyu. Footsteps quickly approached from behind you, and when you turned around, you were met with a wonderful sight. Your next-door neighbor was running towards you, wearing black swimming shorts and an open button-up with lazily rolled-up sleeves.
“Hey there, neighbor!” he said with a grin.
He reminded you of a puppy - happy and always eager. When he had jogged up to you, you noticed the silver chain around his neck. You hadn’t seen it before, but now your eyes were fixed on the delicate chain. Maybe it was because you didn’t know where else to look, or the juxtaposition of such a delicate thing on such a brawny man was appealing to you.
“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” Mingyu joked, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Sorry, I just…” You felt heat rise to your face. “It’s a nice chain.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t look like he believed you. “Ready to go for a swim?”
Mingyu took you to a small dock, where he left his towel and his shirt before he started wading through the water. You watched his back as he walked, his muscles moving under his skin hypnotizing you. When he looked back, he sent you a wink, making your heart skip a beat. You pulled off your shirt and started treading through the cold water yourself.
“How are you not freezing?” you asked.
“I am.” He laughed. “But if I started shivering, you wouldn’t come in!”
“Touché.” You smiled and approached him. The water was up to your hips now, but your legs were slowly getting used to the cold water. You heard him gasp and looked up to see him covering his agape mouth with his hands - as if he was pleasantly surprised.
“What is it?”
“You’re smiling,” he teased. “Are you enjoying nature yet?”
“It’s growing on me,” you admitted.
“Good,” he hummed. “Try closing your eyes.” You give him a strange look but still follow his instructions. After closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. The sound of a lonely bird echoed through the forest. The rippling water murmured secrets in a language you couldn’t understand, but you listened intently anyway. Your hands were hanging by your sides, the water weaving between your fingers. The stream wasn’t strong enough to move you, but you still felt it. After another deep breath, you opened your eyes again to see Mingyu proudly looking back at you.
“It’s nice, right?”
“Very nice,” you said.
“Come on, let’s go.” He started moving up the stream. “I want to show you something.” It didn’t take long to swim to the place Mingyu wanted to show you. A waterfall, not very tall but remarkable nevertheless, was flowing in front of you. Right by the top of the waterfall hung a swing on a tough-looking branch. It looked like something out of a paradise resort.
“I built that swing when I was a teenager,” he said. “And if we’re lucky, it’s not too old to use.”
“Wait, how old are you?”
“Just turned twenty-eight,” he said. “Don’t I look like it?”
“I thought you’d be younger- we’re the same age.” You looked back at the swing. “So, how young of a teenager are we talking?”
“I was seventeen.” He sighed. “It’ll hold… probably.” Mingyu helped you up the rocks, and the two of you got to the top of the waterfall rather quickly. You sat down next to each other, your legs dangling off the edge of the waterfall. Sticking your foot into the running water, you watched it bend around your body. After resting for a bit, Mingyu stood back up.
“Want to try the swing?” he asked.
“Only if you try it first.” You chuckled as you watched the man take a shaky breath. Mingyu took hold of the old rope. When he pulled on it, the old tree let out a croak - as if it was stretching after a long nap. With furrowed brows, Mingyu carefully climbed onto the swing - and it held his weight! You laughed and clapped his hands as Mingyu let out a victorious shout. The creaking continued as Mingyu began swinging, eventually flinging himself off into the pool of water beside the bottom of the waterfall. His head went underwater, and you held your breath until he popped back up to the surface.
“It’s safe!” He shouted, and you wolf-whistled as he got up to the more shallow part of the lake. “Your turn!”
“Oh no, I’m not doing that!” “You said you would!” Mingyu pouted.
“It’s part of your nature therapy, Y/N!” You loved it when he said your name… Mingyu would be the death of you. After finally managing to get onto the swing, with Mingyu cheering you on from the side of the lake, you began swinging. You let go of the ropes and jumped, shutting your eyes tight. Water encapsulated you before you got back up to the surface. Mingyu cheered and clapped for you, to which you responded with a shy smile.
“Fun, right?”
“Maybe a little…” you admitted as you walked back up to the shallow part of the lake.
You and Mingyu swam back to the dock where you left your things, and the two of you sat down on it. Your feet were still in the water, the stream tickling the lower half of your calves. When you had dried off and the weather got a little colder, you put your shirt from before back on.
“I had a really good time today,” you said.
“You don’t feel like going home anymore?”
“Not as much.” You looked over at Mingyu, who was already looking at you. “Thank you. I needed this.”
“Let me take you out tomorrow, too, then,” he said.
“Sure.” You nodded. “But I don’t know how you’re going to top this.”
“We can go on a morning hike,” he suggested.
“Mingyu-” You chuckled. “I’m not a morning person- I don’t think it’d be better than this.”
“You say that now,” he said. “But just wait until we’re standing up on the hill watching the sunrise.”
“Sunrise? How early do I have to get up?”
“I’ll pick you up at five.”
Despite not wanting to wake up so early, you did it anyway. After a day of swimming, you fell asleep early and woke up fifteen minutes before Mingyu was to pick you up. You dragged yourself out of bed, putting on your most comfortable workout gear. For whatever reason, you trusted Mingyu enough to let him take you out on this horrible morning walk. Trying to stretch the sleep out of your body, you moved around your living room in front of the big windows. When you got up from stretching out your hamstrings, you heard a knock coming from one of the windows. You looked over with big eyes, meeting the gaze of a smiling Mingyu. He was wearing the same jogging gear he had yesterday and a backpack slung over one of his shoulders. He waved to you, and you hurried over to the door. With a flushed face, you opened the door and welcomed Mingyu inside while you put on your shoes.
“Good morning.” Mingyu stayed on your porch, giving you space.
“Morning.” You stood back up and gave him a quizzical look. “Were you watching me stretch?”
“Just for a second, I didn’t want to scare you mid-stretch,” he defended himself hurriedly. “I’m not a creep, I swear.”
You stepped outside and patted his slumped shoulders. He reminded you of a puppy again, the way he was looking at you with big eyes and a slight pout. You were beginning to enjoy teasing him. “
I know,” you said. “Ready to go?”
“Of course.”
The two of you watched the forest wake up as you walked along the path Mingyu had picked for you. It was an uphill walk, which wasn’t what you needed this early in the morning. But Mingyu promised you that it would be rewarding, so you continued walking. The two of you were mostly silent, other than when one of you pointed out something you had seen. However, the silence was welcomed. It was, as Mingyu had said, very therapeutic. Despite feeling like it took forever, you were up on the hill before you knew it. Mingyu pointed out a small bench by the edge of a cliff, and the two of you sat down. He took out the backpack and gave you a neatly wrapped sandwich, along with a thermos of coffee. As the two of you ate breakfast, the sky started turning pink, and the sun started rising from behind the horizon.
“Wow,” you hummed.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Mingyu nudged you with his elbow.
“It’s amazing…”
The both of you sat in silence for a bit more, but something started itching to come out from the back of your throat. Mingyu was playing with the paper wrapping from his now-eaten sandwich.
“So… why did you come out here in the first place?” Mingyu asked.
“It’s a long story…” You said, thinking he would put it to rest - even though a part of you wanted to tell someone about it.
“You can tell me, you know?” he said. “I won’t judge.”
So you did. You told him about Wonwoo, how suddenly the relationship had ended, and why it had turned out the way he did. You told him about Gyeong Hui and how you couldn’t even bring yourself to hate her despite what had happened. After that, you sat in silence. You thought he wouldn’t want to talk to you after this, but instead, he put a comforting arm around your shoulder.
“You’re strong.” His words made you scoff. “I’m serious. That’s more than enough for any other person just to give up, but you’re here. You’re trying.”
“Just because you made me.”
“I can’t make you do anything that you don’t want to do,” he said. “You could’ve left.” His words linger in the air. You could have left, why didn’t you? Was it just because you thought your neighbor was hot, or did his words reach you? Did it even matter? You were here now, feeling better than you had since the incident. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, leaning your head in the palms of your hands. Mingyu took his arm off you and let you be. You missed the warmth of his arm but appreciated the space he gave you.
“Well, thanks for bringing me out here,” you said.
“You’re helping me too. Now I have a reason to get out more.” He leaned back.
There was more to his story. You could tell by the tone of his voice, but you decided not to pry. If he wanted to tell you, he would. You looked out over the forest again. The sun had risen far above the trees now. When you leaned back on the bench, you noticed that Mingyu’s arm was leaning on the back of the bench. In a moment of hope and rashness, you leaned your head on his shoulder. You glanced up at Mingyu, seeing him smile before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders again.
“I don’t think I’ve ever watched the sunrise like this before,” you said.
“Really?”
“I’m not a morning person,” you reminded him. Mingyu chuckled, his chest rumbling as he did. You closed your eyes, taking another deep breath. This time it didn’t just smell like fresh air and dewy grass. You could smell his cologne as well. It was faint, but you could sense the woody smell of men’s perfume. You could probably fall asleep right there in his arms.
“We still have to walk back.” Mingyu made you open your eyes again. “Don’t fall asleep on me.”
“It's not my fault that you’re comfortable…” You sighed. Mingyu moved around, forcing you to get up despite your many protests. He helped you up, and the two of you began making your way home.
You kept seeing Mingyu for the first week of your stay, and towards the end of it, he offered to make you dinner. The two of you spent your time outdoors, hiking or going to the lake, so spending the evening making dinner in your small kitchen was more intimate than you were used to. However, you gladly accepted his offer - you hadn’t exactly been eating like royalty during your stay here. Cooking took effort, which you didn’t have the energy for. Seeing as the muffins Mingyu had given you the first time you met were delicious, it wouldn’t surprise you if his cooking was delicious as well. Mingyu came over with a bag of groceries that he immediately put in the kitchen. You were placed on watch duty - which was Mingyu’s way of saying, “Sit on the counter and don’t touch anything while I work,” and you couldn’t complain. You watched as he expertly cut up the vegetables and the meat, enjoying the view of his hands getting to work. His t-shirt sleeves were rolled up, showing off his biceps as he reached for plates and glasses. From time to time, he’d look over at you to see if you were watching - smiling when he caught you ogling at him. He took pride in his good looks, as he should.
“Is there anything you can’t do?” You said. “I mean this- and the muffins?”
“Oh, I didn’t bake those-” He chuckled. “I can’t bake, that’s for sure… I bought them from this little café that’s not too far from here. I’ll take you some time.”
“Sounds good.” You smiled at the implication that he wanted to keep seeing you, even though he had asked you to do things with him countless times before.
“Still, you’re still a natural talent at most things.”
“I can’t paint either,” he argued. “Paint?”
“I’m supposed to paint the living room in the cottage- my parents wanted it to be a lighter color,” he explained. “I’ve been putting it off for so long, but now all the furniture I’ve put away has started to bug me.”
“Tell you what…” You hopped off the counter you were sitting on and walked up next to him. “If this meal is as delicious as it smells, I’ll help you paint tomorrow. As a thank you for the meal.”
“Deal.” He grinned. “I’ll take it as a challenge.” He moved you aside so that he could get to the spices. His hands were only on your waist for a millisecond, but your skin was burning at his touch. While trying to contain your smile, you took your place on the counter once again.
The dinner was perfect, as expected. The food, the wine, the company… everything was to your liking. And when everything was over, you got to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Mingyu by the sink. He was washing the dishes, and you were drying them.
“I hate that this place doesn’t have a dishwasher,” you groaned.
“Doing dishes can be nice…” Mingyu said. “Given that you’re in good company.” Mingyu handed you a plate, and your fingers brushed against each other. Every time he touched you it sent sparks flying in your chest. You took the plate and started drying it. There were no other dishes in the sink, and Mingyu put his hands on it while he was waiting for you to finish.
“Well, I’m glad I can be good company,” you replied.
“You’ve been good company this entire week,” Mingyu admitted. “Although you have distracted me from what I was supposed to be doing.”
“I think that’s fair,” you argued. “You’re the one who convinced me to say, after all.” You put away the last plate and dried off your hands, giving Mingyu a fresh towel for his own hands.
Shamelessly, you stared at his hands while he dried them off with the towel. When you looked back up at his eyes, you knew that he had caught you. You didn’t mind - maybe it was the amount of wine you had consumed, or you had grown comfortable around your neighbor - and took the towel off his hands when he didn’t need it anymore, putting it on the counter beside you.
“I guess you’re right.” Mingyu watched you carefully as you walked past him to wipe off the other side of the counter. “I’m glad I did.”
“I’m glad you did too.” Mingyu encaged you against the counter, putting his hands on the wood on either side of you. His chest was pressed up against your back. His head leaned down by your ear - you could feel his breath fanning against you. You turned around, locking eyes with him again. The air was thick, and you needed to do something to stop the pounding in your chest. Your hands moved on their own when they moved across his chest, traveling up his neck and settling in his short hair. Mingyu glanced down at your lips and leaned in until your noses were touching.
“Mingyu…” you breathed out. “Kiss me.” At your command, he finally put his lips on yours. They were soft but slightly chapped, and they moved in harmony with yours. His hands went from the counter to your hips and to your hips to hoist you up. The kiss broke for a moment so that Mingyu could put you on the counter. Standing between your legs, Mingyu connected his lips with yours again. You cupped his face in your hands, trying to pull him impossibly close as the kiss got heated. The two of you only stopped to catch your breath, leaning your foreheads against each other.
“I’m not dreaming, am I?” Mingyu asked breathlessly.
“I hope not…” You connected your lips again. Mingyu took his time with you, lips moving slowly and passionately. You hadn’t felt like this in what felt like forever. To be intimate with someone again… it made you feel alive. Despite your head spinning, you couldn’t help but think about Wonwoo. You pulled away, Mingyu trying to chase after your lips before noticing something was wrong.
“I’m sorry…” you whispered as soon as you saw his worried eyes.
“No, no- it’s okay, Y/N,” he assured you. “It was too fast, I understand.”
“It’s just been so long-”
“I get it, sweetheart. Trust me.” The nickname, even in this situation, made your heart skip a beat. You caressed his cheek, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. He sent you a warm smile, unlike the charming and flirtatious ones you had seen before.
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
“I don’t want to kiss someone who doesn’t want to be kissed,” he said. “There’s always next time, hm?”
“Next time,” you promised. Mingyu helped you off the counter, and you walked him to the front door. As he put on his shoes, you felt your chest grow empty. You knew that you didn’t want to go further right now, not when your mind was racing, but you wanted him so badly. Mingyu stood back up and took your hand.
“Don’t feel bad, okay?” He squeezed your hand. “I liked it while it lasted.” You looked down at your shoes, unable to keep his gaze.
“Are you still helping me paint tomorrow?” he asked and squeezed your hand again.
“Of course.” You looked back up at him for a second to give him a secure smile. “Goodnight, Mingyu.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He let go of your hand and opened the door.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, you crumbled to the floor. There was a part of you that believed that you had ruined this now. A black hole was growing in your chest. You liked Mingyu, but you still couldn’t get the image of Wonwoo out of your brain. Maybe this was your life now, finding new people but being cock-blocked by someone who wasn’t even in the room… someone who didn’t care about you anymore. If he had been able to move on, why couldn’t you? It had been a year since you took off your wedding ring and signed the divorce papers. It had been half a year since Wonwoo last called. You had deleted his contact from your phone, afraid that you would give in and call him on a whim. You couldn’t sink so low. There was nothing more to do than accept that you had been the other woman. If alternate dimensions existed, you wished that at least one of them let you stay with Wonwoo - or that the plan could’ve gone through. you wished that you never got to know that Gyeong Hui was a kind and gentle woman. You wished that she would’ve been a bitch… but she wasn’t. You had no reason to hate her - she didn’t drag your husband away from you. She was just a pawn in a game. You got up from the floor and made your way to your bedroom.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The next day, you went over to Mingyu’s cottage in clothes that you weren’t afraid to get paint on. You couldn’t let what happened yesterday ruin what you had going on with Mingyu. So, despite your legs wanting to run the other way, you walked in through the open door to the cottage.
“Hello?” You called from the hallway.
“In here!” Mingyu shouted, and you followed his voice.
The inside of the house was similar to your aunt’s, although it was more classically decorated. When you found Mingyu, he was standing in the middle of a large room with no furniture. The furniture stood outside the room, cramped in a large portion of the corner of another room. The otherwise big brawny man looked tiny in the empty room. Mingyu had already started painting, as evident by the paint stains on his clothes.
“The paint is supposed to go on the walls, you know.” You leaned against the doorframe.
“Very funny…” He turned around to face you to show you a big splotch of paint on his face, trying to hide his smile by biting his lower lip. “I got paint on my face when opening the can… the rest is just brush accidents…”
You approached him and cooed as he pouted, cupping his cheeks in your palms. With your thumb, you tried to wipe off some of the paint on his face, but it was already dry.
“Help?” he murmured.
“Hand me a paint roller, Picasso,” you joked, and Mingyu grimaced.
The work got done quicker than expected. It was hard, and the room was warm despite the many open windows and doors, and it had you sweating buckets. The fact that you kept thinking about last night - his lips on yours - didn’t help. You desperately needed an ice bath.
“Do you think we’re done?” You asked as the two of you looked around the freshly painted room.
“I think so. Now we just have to clean up,” Mingyu said. He was looking at the many newspapers on the floor, protecting them from white paint, but you were still only staring at him. Any sentimental thought you had the day before had flown through the window. You were too hot, too tired, and too turned on to think about anything other than Mingyu. His shirt was sticking to his toned chest, leaving little to the imagination - not that you hadn’t already seen him half-naked.
“Y/N, are you okay? Do you need a glass of water?” he asked out of innocent concern.
“I’m just tired,” you lied.
“Are you sure? You look flushed.” He approached you, and you had to stop yourself from backing up against the wet wall. Mingyu managed to walk up right next to you and put the back of his hand against your forehead. It was colder than your skin, and you leaned into his touch. Your eyes closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips. It wasn’t the heat- it was Mingyu making you melt. Much to your dismay, he took his hand away from your face.
“Are you sure you’re okay there, sweetheart?” he asked with a small smile.
“You know what… I was going to act like nothing happened yesterday, but I need us to resume whatever we were doing back then right now.” You looked him dead in the eye.
“But I don’t want to push you-”
“You’re not pushing me…” You took a deep breath. “Please?”
You didn’t have to say another word before his lips were on yours again. The messy room was left to its own devices as Mingyu led you through the house - only breaking from the kiss to make sure he wasn’t running into anything. Clothes were flying off of you and onto any nearby surface. He picked you up, your legs swinging around his waist, and carried you upstairs to his bed. Falling against the plush bed, you let out a happy shout before Mingyu crawled towards you again. When your lips connected again, your head was buzzing. You were both only in your underwear by now, your sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other. Mingyu pulled away from you with a soft groan, his eyes still shut as he began grinding against you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Mingyu nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving chaste kisses on the sensitive skin. When you finally broke out in laughter, Mingyu came back up to look at you. You covered your face with your hands to hide from him - suddenly feeling shy.
“Hey, pretty,” he said and tried to remove your hands. “I want to look at you… come on…”
“I haven’t… the last time I did this was with him,” you said, knowing that he would understand who you were talking about. “I know it’s silly, but it feels strange.”
“It’s not silly.” He chuckled and finally managed to remove your hands. “It’s normal, but I want you to forget all that and just focus on us.”
The light coming in from the window gave away that the sun had started to set - its golden glow coloring Mingyu’s skin with a beautiful shine. Your hand caressed his cheek, and he leaned into your touch.
“Just us,” you repeated. “... could you get a condom?”
Suddenly, Mingyu’s peaceful expression turned into an annoyed one. He scrunched up his face and let out a groan, his head leaning back into the crook of your neck.
“I don’t have condoms,” he mumbled. The entire situation made you laugh, and it only made Mingyu whine louder. If it weren’t for how hard you could feel that he was, you would’ve kept laughing - but instead, you cooed at him. Your fingers ran through his hair as he buried his face in your chest. While accidental pregnancy was unlikely for you, you didn’t want to have unprotected sex with a man that you had only met a week ago.
“It’s alright, we can…” You sighed. “We can do that next time and fix your issue another way this time.”
“So there’ll be a next time?” Mingyu raised his head to meet your gaze. Your face grew hot as your smile widened. His eyes were big and hopeful, and you let out a laugh in disbelief at how he could be so adorable.
“Maybe…” you hummed.
“And you don’t want to stop now?”
“Just the opposite, please.”
Mingyu pressed a sweet peck to your lips before he went back in to devour you. You wrapped one of your legs around his waist, using it to flip the two of you around. He let out a grunt when his back hit the bed. Your lips parted, only for you to kiss down his neck to his chest. Mingyu’s chest was heaving, but you could feel his breath hitch when your lips ghosted over his skin. You settled between his legs, playing with the hem of his underwear.
“Is this okay?” You asked.
“Please.” Mingyu’s voice was hoarse as he begged for you. Pulling down the band of his underwear, you watched in awe as his thick cock slapped onto his abdomen. It shouldn’t be surprising that he was as big as he was, considering his height, but it still left your jaw slack. After ripping off his underwear, you put your hand over his cock - gently stroking it before you wrapped your hand around it and put it in your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down his length, you tried to take more and more of him.
“Fuck…” He gasped and reached his hand up to your head. “... can I?”
You let out a delighted hum and moaned around him when he grabbed your hair to push you further down. Gagging around his cock made Mingyu get louder - his moans echoing around the room. Your nails clawed at his thighs as your eyes welled up with tears. Peering up at him through your lashes, you saw Mingyu throwing his head back with his eyes shut tight. His hips moved on their own, shallowly thrusting his cock up your throat. You put your hands on his hips, holding them down, and got your mouth off of him, gasping for air.
“Shit- are you okay?” he asked with heavy breaths. “Did I hurt you?”
Seeing him all fucked out, his pupils blown out of proportion, and his lips slightly parted made you clench around nothing. You kept stroking his cock, forcing more heavenly noises to come out from behind Mingyu’s lips.
“I’m okay, baby,” you said. “Are you getting close?”
“Yeah- fuck, yes,” he whined. “Don’t stop, baby-”
You replaced your hand with your mouth, keeping the same speed and rhythm as you had before. He warned you that he was about to cum, but you didn’t stop. You watched his hands grip the sheets of the bed, throwing his head back against the pillow again. With a guttural moan, Mingyu came down your throat. You took your mouth off him, letting him ride out his high with your hand around his cock.
“Thank you, sweetheart…” Mingyu’s hips stuttered before his body went completely limp. A big grin was painted on your face as you crawled up his body. Mingyu’s eyes were full of lust as he reached for you. His strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you locked by his side. You pressed a few kisses on his jaw, making him whine.
“You keep surprising me, Mingyu,” you murmured against his skin.
“Good surprises, right?”
“All good,” you assured him. Mingyu’s grip around you tightened, and he flipped the two of you around again. Laying under him again, you finally noticed the small silver chain around his neck again. It was dangling right in front of you, and you couldn’t resist the urge to reach up and pull on it. Pulling on the chain brought him down so that his forehead was leaning against yours again. He smiled, pressing a sweet peck to the tip of your nose. Your face crinkled at the feeling, making Mingyu giggle. He giggled.
“You’re a big softie, aren’t you?” You grinned.
“Only on special occasions,” he said. Copying your actions from before, Mingyu pressed kisses down your neck to your chest. As you arched your back, he helped you take off your bra.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.” Mingyu kissed the delicate skin before moving down to your panties. “Want me to repay the favor?”
“Please?” At your quiet plea, he ripped off your panties. A yelp escaped your lips as he lifted your legs to rest on top of his shoulders. His lips ghosted over the inside of your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine as he got closer to your core. As he laid his tongue flat against your cunt, you let out a loud moan that you had tried to bite back. You could feel him smile against you before he went into lap at your clit. Sinful noises bounced off the walls of Mingyu’s bedroom. Your hands were in his hair, pulling at it whenever he found a spot that made you see stars. Mingyu was the kind of person who was always up for a challenge - and when he had gotten the first taste of victory, he couldn’t get enough.
“Don’t stop!” You practically shouted, forgetting that you still had neighbors even if you were in the middle of nowhere. Mingyu’s grip on your thighs tightened, making sure that you couldn’t help his relentless attack on your pussy. His tongue was inside you now, his nose bumping against your clit. You were practically riding his face with the way you were grinding against him. And when you felt your orgasm approaching, your hips stuttered. Mingyu, hearing the sound of your voice changing, picked up on the fact that you were close. With a steady pace, he guided you through your orgasm, letting you rock against him for as long as you needed.
Your body was spent afterward. You were almost completely unable to move. Mingyu crawled up next to you, maneuvering both of you to lay comfortably under the covers. He was lying beside you, and you had your head on his chest - you could hear that his heartbeat was finally starting to calm down.
“So…” He trailed off. “Yeah.”
You breathed out. The two of you lay there in silence. Despite just having shared a very intimate moment, there wasn’t anything to say. You listened to his breathing, finding the rhythm calming enough to fall asleep to. Your eyes were closed, and you were almost about to drift away to sleep when Mingyu’s soft voice brought you back to reality.
“Do you need anything?” he muttered.
“… maybe I should go to the bathroom.” You nodded and sat up. “You… it was… nice.” You stared at each other for a while before breaking out into awkward laughter. Even though you had been so confident with him earlier, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it again now. Something had changed between you - it was neither bad nor good, just natural. You pulled the sheets up to cover your chest - suddenly feeling vulnerable, despite already having shown him everything.
“Do you want me to get you a shirt or something?” He asked, noticing your change in demeanor. You hummed in response. Mingyu got up and walked over to his closer, and you tried not to stare at his naked figure. When he found a shirt for you to wear and clothes for himself, he walked back over to the bed and handed it to you. You pulled the shirt over your head, his scent surrounding you. His laundry detergent smelled fancy, and there was the slightest hint of the cologne that you had sensed during your hike.
“Thanks.” You got up and went to his bathroom.
“Y/N,” he said before you could go inside. “Do you want to stay over for dinner?” You turned around to face him, again trying your hardest to look only at his eyes. His hair was a mess, thanks to you, and he looked genuinely happy - a gentle smile playing on his lips and eyes that conveyed the same emotion. How could you say no to him? Especially since you had already tried his cooking once, you wouldn’t give up that opportunity.
“… sure.” You nodded and went into the bathroom.
After that evening, you continued this relationship - sleeping with each other, making food for one another, and spending as much time together as possible. You felt safe in Mingyu’s arms. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a hand on your knee or cuddling while watching TV on the couch, you’d melt into it - trying to get as much out of it as possible. Slowly, you began recharging. It was as if you had been in hibernation this entire time, and spring had finally come to welcome you back to the world. Mingyu was your spring: warm, bright, and sweet. Between the two of you, something blossomed over the last week of your stay in the cottage.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
It was the last day of your stay at your aunt's cottage. Your things were neatly packed up, except for one dress, the dress that you had worn to the barbecue that you hadn’t gotten to enjoy. To reclaim the ruined evening, you and Mingyu had decided to dress up the way you had that day and hold your barbecue in Mingyu’s backyard. When you approached his gate that evening, you could already hear people laughing and talking in the backyard. An invisible wall stopped you from going any further. You stood completely still and fidgeted with your dress. Despite it being different from the first time, it still felt the same. However, you had promised Mingyu to come - and all of his hard work would go to waste if you didn’t walk through that gate. It was just a small metallic gate, painted in black and surrounded by a hedge. You swallowed whatever nerves were keeping you from going inside and opened the gate. Walking around the corner of the house, you were met with your neighbors in Mingyu’s backyard. As soon as you saw him, your worries melted away. Seeing that he had followed your plan to match outfits made you smile. Mingyu was standing by the grill with his back towards you but turned around as soon as he heard the gate close. You waved to him, and he motioned for you to come over. Standing next to him made it easier for him to wrap his arm around your waist.
“Welcome, sweetheart,” he said quietly, as if he wanted to make sure that no one else heard. “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing good,” you hummed. “Do I look okay?”
Mingyu looked at you up and down, drinking in your appearance, and pulled a grimace that screamed.
“Are you kidding?” He pulled you in a little closer and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Trust me; if it weren’t for the amount of people here, I’d take you right on-” You playfully smacked his arm before he could finish his sentence. Seeing your shy smile, Mingyu puffed out his chest with pride - biting back his smile.
“You look perfect,” he said.
“So do you,” you replied, making the man’s ear turn red.
At the end of the evening, you were the last guest in Mingyu’s cottage. Just like you had every other night, you were standing beside Mingyu doing the dishes. Lucky for him, he had a dishwasher, but the two of you still had to wash the things that couldn’t go in there. You were drying and putting dishes away while Mingyu was washing them. The both of you worked in comfortable silence, but you were itching to say something.
“Tonight was great,” you expressed.
“I’m glad you thought so, sweetheart.” Mingyu dried off his hands on a towel after he had handed you the last of the dishes. “You’re leaving tomorrow morning, aren’t you?”
“I am.” You sighed. “And you’re staying?”
“Just a few more days… I still haven’t finished moving all the furniture, thanks to you.” He nudged your side. “You should take responsibility for your actions.”
You scoffed and put away the dry dishes. Mingyu was silent for a while, which garnered your attention. You turned around to see him leaning against the kitchen island, looking at you wistfully. A strong urge to walk over to him, hold him, and tell him everything would be okay, rushed over you, but you stood still in your place by the kitchen counter.
“I’ll be lonely without you,” Mingyu admitted. You didn’t answer - you didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, you approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck. Mingyu moved on autopilot, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You relaxed against his touch, letting out a breath that you didn’t know you had been holding in. Breaking the soft moment, Mingyu started leaving kisses along your neck and clavicle.
“What are you doing?” You let out a giggle at the ticklish feeling of his lips.
“Giving you a final going-away-present,” he muttered. His ticklish kisses turned into something that’d most definitely leave marks the next day. You let out a gasp as he found a sensitive spot right by your ear. With one of your hands, you moved Mingyu’s face so that you could look him in the eye. There was still a sad look in his eyes, but they were slowly being replaced by something more lustful.
“Bedroom?” You asked. Without another word, Mingyu picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.
You found yourself lost in him again. Mingyu was everywhere: his taste, his smell, his touch surrounding you and infecting your brain. Your bodies moved against each other slowly, letting out low grunts and subdued moans. He was leaning above you, and your legs were wrapped around his waist. The slow pace would have usually been almost painful, but now you never wanted it to stop. You needed it to be slow, take as long as it needed to, so you didn’t ask him to go any faster. Mingyu reached out for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, shutting his eyes tight as his lips parted to let out a string of curses.
“You okay?” You asked with a chuckle.
“I’m okay.” He took a shaky breath. “Just hold my hand…”
“I’m not letting go, baby,” you promised. His head fell into the crook of your neck, and Mingyu let out another moan. You laughed at his reaction, finding it sweet how much you affected him. Your laugh got cut off by a moan when Mingyu began thrusting harsher into you - still not faster, just harder. He left wet kisses along your clavicle, whining against your skin. The two of you had been doing this for what felt like forever, and the stimulation was taking over him.
“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned.
One thing about Mingyu, when you got him going it was hard to stop him. You knew that he had been close to cumming several times already, and each time he had found a reason to pause. He had been edging himself for possibly an hour or more, and by now, his brain was fried. You took his face in your hands, bringing him up to look you in the eye and cooing at his clouded expression. It wasn’t like you weren’t drunk on lust too, but Mingyu was way further gone than you. Now that you had him like this, mindlessly thrusting into you, you knew he wouldn’t stop until you were cumming all over his cock. You almost felt bad for him. He needed someone to take care of him- he needed you to take care of him.
“Do you want to cum with me, baby?” You asked quietly between moans. Mingyu nodded, putting his head back in the crook of your neck. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, Mingyu brought his hand between your bodies to rub your swollen clit. Your jaw went slack, wanton moans escaping you without a single care for who heard. Mingyu’s thrusts grew quicker, chasing both his own and your high. As your orgasm came rippling over you, dissolving you into pleasure, Mingyu came as well. He chased his breath between every other moan. His voice strained from how much he had been using it. Your hands played with his hair as he continued subtly grinding against you until his body fell limp against you.
You fell asleep holding Mingyu but woke up with his back turned against you. Without realizing that you were doing it, you had reached out to touch the skin where his neck met his shoulders. Your fingertips followed the crevices and curves of his form, your eyes following them - studying him. No matter how many times you looked at him, you always found new things. A mole here, a wrinkle there - everything felt sacred to you like you had discovered something important each time just because they were a part of him. You could look at him like this all day. A feeling started blooming in your chest, a feeling that you didn’t want to acknowledge or ever think of again. Mingyu stirred in his sleep, making you pull away your hand from him. The truth was that you were falling for him. Every time you kissed him, it just felt right, but you still felt the need to try it over and over again - just to see if it was real. He made you nervous in the best of ways. He made you laugh until you cried. More importantly, he made you feel loved. This feeling reminded you too much of Wonwoo, and you had to leave. Your things were already packed in the back of your car, you had never given him your phone number, and there was no way he could ever meet you again. Despite ignoring it for as long as you could, you knew that this was how it had to end. You recognized this path all too well, and you couldn’t be the other woman for a second time. As you kissed Mingyu's shoulder, you whispered out
“Goodbye” - and you left without a trace. When you got home to your mom’s apartment that afternoon, it was empty. Your mother’s absence didn’t stop you. There was no going back now. You had to build yourself up again. The traveling bags stayed in your car, and you started looking for apartments right away.
You had money saved up already, but after you had managed to sell your old apartment, you had enough money to move overseas if you wanted to. Nevertheless, you settled for a small apartment in a good neighborhood. It was smaller than your last apartment but had beautiful, big windows. There was one bedroom, a kitchen attached to a smaller living room, and a gorgeous bathroom. It was more than you could ask for. The money you had gotten from selling the apartment wouldn’t last forever, of course - you had to get a job. Despite wanting to escape your old life, you didn’t want to give up every aspect of it. You managed to find a job at a prestigious primary school situated near your apartment. You had contacts there through charities that you had helped Wonwoo set up - he proved to be of help for something, after all. It wouldn’t be like teaching kindergarten, but you were up for the challenge. Everything was going your way; you had your apartment, you had a pretty good job, and you had made it all on your own. Maybe it was destiny. What if the whole thing with your ex-husband was meant to be? So that you could be independent so that you could be happy. However, there was no way you could deny the fact that you missed Mingyu. You felt bad for what you did, and you’d never really forget him, but you couldn’t get the possibility of heartbreak out of your brain around him.
You spend a year like this, living each day without thinking about what might happen in the future. Every morning you wake up around six am. you got up, made a quick breakfast, got in the shower for a few minutes before getting dressed, and finally left for work. The primary school you worked at was close enough for you to walk to, and you had grown to enjoy your daily stroll - especially on a sunny spring day like this. However, it all was ruined when you heard someone call your name. Turning around to see who it was, you were met with Wonwoo walking out of a café. He was with other people in suits, but they let him be as he excused himself. You were frozen in your place. You could only watch as he walked towards you. He looked tired, new-parent-tired, but otherwise, he looked the same.
“Y/N?”
“Hi, Wonwoo.” You sent him a tight-lipped smile.
“I haven’t seen you in so long- how have you been?” He looked apologetic but smiled nevertheless.
“I’m good,” you replied. “I got a job at a primary school near here… Everglade Primary School.”
“Oh really?” He gave you an impressed nod. “It’s quite prestigious, isn’t it?”
“A little. The kids are great.” You nodded. “... how have you been? Is everything alright with Gyeong Hui?” You were secretly hoping that everything was horrible for him, and as the thought struck you, you got a dreadful feeling in your stomach.
“Oh, uhm… she’s great. We’re actually… we’re expecting again,” he said quietly as if the words would break you if they were too loud. “It’s been difficult… our daughter just started walking, and we’re trying to handle her while simultaneously handling the pregnancy… It's a lot.”
“I could imagine.” You nodded. “Do you… do you have any pictures?” Wonwoo pulled out his phone and showed you his lock screen. A small babe in pink overalls. She was adorable. Her large eyes looked just like Wonwoo’s.
“She has your eyes.” You said as he put his phone back in his pocket.
“A lot of people say that.” He tried to hold back his proud smile. He was happy. You should be happy for him, but all you felt was a pit growing in your stomach. “I wanted to apologize, Y/N.”
“Apologize?”
“For how everything turned out, I mean…” He looked down at his shoes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright-” The embarrassment heating your face made you speak without thinking first. “I’m seeing someone new.”
“Really?” Wonwoo raised his eyebrows as he looked back at you. “Good. I’m happy for you. So, who’s the lucky guy?” Did he have to be so perfect? Here he was, feeling happy for you when you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. The lies came bubbling up your throat again before you could stop them.
“His name is Mingyu,” you said. “We met last year.”
“Well, I hope it works out for you.” He smiled. “And that I get to meet this Mingyu sometime.”
“Of course.” You nodded. “Listen… I have to get to my students… but it was good to see you again!”
The two of you said goodbye and went your separate ways. You had no idea why you had decided to lie. Maybe it was because he was doing so well- you just wanted to make sure that he didn’t think you were alone and sad… although you were alone and sad. There was a very big chance that you would never meet him again, which would mean that you wouldn’t have to show him your “new boyfriend”. It was a harmless lie… hopefully. The lie had made you think of Mingyu again and how it would’ve been if you had waited for him to wake up that morning. Maybe he would’ve turned around and hugged you close, making some comment about how he forgot to close the blinds the night before. Then you would’ve had breakfast together, and before you left to go home, he would’ve asked for your number. Maybe you’d be living with him in an apartment now, just the two of you in a cozy condo. You couldn’t keep thinking like this. It’d just ruin you. So you shook off the lonely feeling and put on a smile for your morning class.
The rest of your day went on normally, teaching your second-grade class and also starting to teach the third-grade class. Their old teacher had fallen ill, taking an indefinite break, and you had offered to take over. It meant that you had more work to do, but you didn’t mind. You spent the day helping them with spelling and reading, and towards the end of the day, you let them do arts and crafts while they waited for their caretakers to pick them up. The school had a system where you needed to check off the caretakers who came and picked the kids up, which allowed you to talk with all of the kids’ grown-ups. Usually, you would chat with the caretakers of each kid while they got ready to leave. For some reason, it had become your favorite part of the day - except when the parents were rude, of course. There were only two kids left in your classroom now; the twins Kim Jiu and Ari. They were sweet kids, Jiu slightly shyer than her sister. There were three names on the list beside theirs; their grandparents and their father. From the history, you could see that their grandparents were usually the ones to pick them up. However, they always seemed to be on time. You sat down next to the girls, the two of them still drawing and unbothered by the time they had spent there.
“Hey, girls,” you said, getting their attention for a second before they returned to their drawings. “Do you remember if your grandparents told you that they’d be late today?”
“Our dad is picking us up,” Ari said.
“Is he always a bit late?” you asked, and Ari nodded.
“He works a lot,” Jiu said. She was focused on her drawing. It was a yellow house with green vines growing on it. You looked over her shoulder, finding the house oddly familiar. She mumbled that it was her grandparents' house in the woods. Before you could ask her more questions, the doors to your classroom opened. You recognized his voice before you even had to look at him.
“Sorry, I’m late, girls!” Frozen in fear, you wondered how your past might have snuck up on you twice today. When you finally turned your head to look at the girls’ dad, you saw Mingyu. He was wearing a suit, his hair slightly longer than the last time you had seen him, and his eyes were big with shock.
“Daddy!” Jiu shouted as she ran up to hug her dad’s leg. Mingyu looked away from you to crouch down to hug his daughters, both Ari and Jiu engulfing him. You watched as the girls rambled on about their day. Glancing back at your list, you looked at the father’s name: Kim Mingyu. Maybe you should have known. With a deep breath, you mustered up the courage to walk up to them. Mingyu stood up to greet you.
“They’ve behaved well, I hope,” he said. You knew he recognized you, you could see it in his eyes, but you understood why he couldn’t say anything in front of the twins.
“Oh, they’ve been wonderful. They’ve been welcoming,” you said. “It’s my first day teaching their class.”
“I saw the email.” He nodded and looked down at the girls. “I told them to be on their best behavior.”
“Well, thank you.” You clasped your hands in front of you.
“Are you busy right now?”
“Uhm… no.”
“Could you… follow me out to the car? I have to talk to you.”
Of course, you usually don't follow people out to their cars… but this wasn’t any other parent. You nodded and followed them outside. You recognized his car as the one you had seen standing outside his cottage. Mingyu got his girls into their car seats and closed the doors, making sure they couldn’t hear anything. He turned to you, unable to look you in the eyes at first. Your heart was already beating a mile per minute, but it only quickened when Mingyu met your gaze.
“You left to become a primary school teacher?” He asked, somewhat jokingly.
“I was already a teacher before I met you,” you explained. “And I left because I knew I couldn’t commit to you- which was maybe for the best, seeing as you have kids. Were you married all this time?”
“I’m widowed,” he said calmly. “Their mother died in childbirth.” Your worries melted away. You hadn’t been the other woman again. The worry was replaced with embarrassment and sorrow for both the man in front of you and his kids. How could this day keep getting worse?
“I’m sorry-”
“It’s fine,” he interrupted. “You didn’t know… and I should’ve told you about Jiu and Ari- I was going to eventually.” There was a pause. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Mingyu reached for your hand, but you quickly stepped away.
“Your kids are in the car,” you said. “We shouldn’t be discussing this here.”
Mingyu reached for his pocket, pulling out a silver rectangle box. It was thin, and when he opened it you could see it was filled with a few cards. He picked one of them up and handed it to you. Kim Mingyu, CEO. His number and the name of his company stood under it in the same black font.
“I want to talk to you again.” He put the box back in his pocket. “Please, call me.”
You accepted the card, studying the letters before looking back at the man in front of you. He wore the same wistful smile he had that last evening in his kitchen. You had never wanted to kiss someone this badly.
“You should go,” you whispered.
“I know,” he murmured. “For what it’s worth… I’m glad I got to see you again.” Unable to say anything, afraid that the tears would come pouring out if you did, you simply nodded. You watched him get in the car before leaving to go back to your classroom.
When you got home that evening, you didn’t know whether you should cry or shout out of happiness. All of these random occurrences made you believe in destiny. To celebrate, you took a hot shower and made yourself a gourmet dinner in the form of your favorite instant ramen, only to sit down on the couch to watch some bad show on Netflix. The card Mingyu gave you sat on the coffee table, distracting you from the movie you had picked. You picked it up and turned it around - fiddling and playing around with it. A sigh escaped your lips, and, with a lot of effort, you sat up and paused the movie. Dialing the number on the card, your thumb rested over the call button. If you didn’t call, he’d just show up to pick up his kids the next day - and that’d be more awkward than a simple phone call. You pressed the green button and put the phone next to your ear, bringing your knees up to your chest. It rang three times before he picked up.
“Hello, this is Kim Mingyu.” He sounded irritated.
“Hi, it’s Y/N… is this a bad time?”
“Oh, Y/N.” His voice immediately changed when he heard who it was. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else… how are you?”
“I’m good…” You took a deep breath. “Are you?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” The name slipped out of his lips naturally and causally, but it made your heart flip in your chest. “I just put the kids to bed, so we should have some time to talk.”
“Mingyu…” You cringed at the shake in your voice. “I’m sorry for walking out on you.”
“I understand- you had your reasons,” he said. “I’m sorry for not telling you about the kids.”
“We didn’t talk much, did we?” Mingyu’s laughter was like heaven to your ears, even if it was short and quiet. The tension in your shoulders started fading away.
“You’re right,” he said. “We should meet up sometime. Talk things through.”
“We definitely should…” You bit your bottom lip to try to contain your happiness. “Maybe for coffee?”
“A public space sounds smart.” Mingyu chuckled. “I’ll look at my schedule… I’ve been pretty busy lately.”
“Is that why your parents have been picking up the twins?” you asked without thinking.
“It is,” he admitted. “I try to do it as much as I can… it’s just hard being a single dad.”
“If it helps, your girls seem to think the world of you,” you said, remembering the way their faces had lit up when he walked into the classroom.
“Thanks, Y/N.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll try to pick them up more… Are you always there during pick-up?”
“Don’t change your schedule to come see me at work,” you joked.
“Can you blame me?”
“I guess not.” You grinned. “... I’m taking care of Ari’s and Jiu’s classes all days except for Mondays. I’ll be there for their play at the end of the month too.”
“Shit- I forgot about the play…” Mingyu groaned. “You know what? I’ll make time for it… I just have to move some things around in my schedule.”
“They’ll be very pleased if you show up,” you promised. “Those girls have been working extra hard, from what I heard.” You heard someone crying in the background and Mingyu cooing at, who you thought must be, one of his daughters. He was holding the phone away from him, but you could hear his comforting words and the shuffling of clothes as he probably lifted the child into his arms.
“Sorry, Y/N, Ari had a nightmare,” he said in a hushed tone. “I’ll see you soon. We’re still on for coffee, right?”
“Of course,” you hummed. “Don’t forget the play.” “I won’t,” he promised and hung up.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
PART TWO.
After that phone call, Mingyu kept picking up the girls. He couldn’t do it all the time, of course, but he tried his hardest to show up. Mostly for his girls, especially after you told him how excited they get when they know he’s picking them up, but in part because he gets to see you again. Moreover, the increase in the days he would pick them up wasn’t going unnoticed by the twins. It was late afternoon.
Everyone had left the classroom except for Jiu and Ari, who were sitting in their places drawing. You had been cleaning up, but as soon as everything was put away and the tables were wiped, you sat down next to the girls - which is when you noticed an unusual detail in Jiu’s drawing. Ari always used to make scribbles, preferring to finger-paint or make interesting patterns across the paper with a pen, but Jiu always drew things as she saw them. This time, she had drawn a family portrait. On the page were two smaller people and two taller people. It was a man and a woman. The twins had never met their birth mom, but there was still a woman on the paper. You tried to calm down your nerves - but what if this was a cry for help? What if Jiu needed counseling and she just didn’t know how to say it? She was the quiet one of the two, so it wouldn’t surprise you if she had decided to hold it all in. Not wanting to make a scene, you decided to start a conversation with both of the twins.
“What are you making, girls?” you asked the both of them, looking over at Jiu’s painting with a tinge of worry in your chest.
“A rainbow flowerfield,” Ari said casually as her pen ran across the paper.
“A family portrait,” Jiu said quietly, intently focusing on the details of the grass.
“... could you tell me more about your painting, Jiu?” You studied the four figures on the page.
“That’s dad, me, and Ari.” She pointed out the figures on the paper, eventually getting to the fourth figure. “And that’s you.”
“Me?” You didn’t know if you misheard her, but Jiu nodded confidently. “Why am I in your family portrait, Jiu?”
“Because Dad talks about you all the time,” Ari answered for her sister. “And when Dad comes to pick us up, he always stays and talks with you.”
“You girls are attentive…” You cleared your throat.
“What does attentative mean?” Jiu asked. Before you could answer, Mingyu knocked on the already-opened door to gain your attention. You looked up at him, all of your thoughts disappearing at the sight of his smile.
“Ready to go, girls?” He asked.
“Gotta go, Mom.” Ari put away her things and grabbed her painting before running over to her dad. You hoped that Mingyu hadn’t heard her, but one look at him said otherwise. His eyes were wide, confused over whether he should laugh it off or be concerned. He opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he looked over at you. Jiu was still gathering her things and with Ari hanging onto his leg, Mingyu walked over to the table where the two of you sat. You stood up immediately, walking away to pretend that you were busy.
“It happens all the time,” you said, looking over your shoulder. It didn’t happen all the time, maybe once or twice per semester.
“I’m so sorry- I think it’s because they see us together so much and-”
“It’s because you talk about her all the time,” Ari interrupted her father. “And she takes care of us when you’re not here, like a mom.”
Mingyu’s face went red and avoided your gaze. Ari’s comment gave you the confidence to walk over to the small family again, having the upper hand now that you knew he talked about you.
“Do you talk about me, Mr. Kim?” you teased.
“Maybe sometimes- you know, before they have to go to school, I tell them to not cause any incidents for you,” he stammered out. "Last night, you asked if Ms. Y/L/N was sick,” Jiu added to the conversation, aiding her sister in the battle against their dad.
“Because you looked a bit tired,” he explained. “And I care about this school's staff- as anyone should.”
“But you never talk about Mr. Hong,” Ari said, “You only ask about Ms. Y/L/N.”
“Alright, girls, I think it's time for us to go home now.” Mingyu ushered the girls towards the door.
“But I want to stay with Mom.” Ari grinned widely, seemingly enjoying making her dad embarrassed.
“I won't go if she doesn’t.” Jiu joined in, crossing her arms over her chest and making her sister do the same.
“Girls, this is really inappropriate-”
“I could go get something to eat right now…” you said. “You girls like cake, right?” The twins cheered, hurrying to get their backpacks and coats. Mingyu looked over at you with a relieved expression. You walked over to your desk to grab your things, and when you turned around, you were met with a thankful-looking Mingyu.
“Cake always works,” you said. “It’s okay right?”
“Of course.” He smiled before turning to the girls again. “Let’s get some cake, ladies!”
There’s a cute little café around the corner from the primary school. You had gone there to celebrate your new job when you first got there, and you remember that their cakes and coffee were delicious. The four of you found a free corner of the booth, where the two girls got to sit on the couch while you and Mingyu took the chairs on the opposite side. While the twins were enjoying the cakes they had gotten, you were waiting for Mingyu to bring over the coffee. He came over with a small tray; standing on it were two cups of coffee and a piece of red velvet cake.
“You still like red velvet, right?” he asked.
“I do- but you didn’t have to.”
“It’s an apology,” he said. “For putting off our date for so long.”
You smiled and let your objections die down. One thing was for sure, Ari had gotten her stubbornness from her dad - and you didn’t want to start something you knew you would lose. Looking over at the two girls talking between themselves, then back at Mingyu, the realization of what you were doing washed over you.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you mumbled.
“I’m happy you are, though,” Mingyu answered. “When Ari’s put her mind to something, she won’t stop until she gets her way.”
At hearing her name, Ari turned to her dad and stuck out her tongue - to which he, of course, responded by sticking out his tongue at her as well. You chuckled at the interaction and took a sip of your coffee.
“It’s a nice trait.” You put your cup back down. “And she finally got me that promised coffee date with you.”
Mingyu put a hand on your knee under the table, trying to convey that he was sorry for not doing this sooner. You sent him a gentle smile in return, making him take his hand away. You picked up the spoon from the tray, sliced into the cake with it, and took a first bite. It wasn’t as good as the muffins Mingyu had given you, but it was still lovely. Using the spoon to get another piece, you held it up to Mingyu’s lips this time. Holding your gaze, he let you feed him. For a moment, everything else disappeared. You had forgotten just how much Mingyu’s eyes could make you feel. However, the moment was ruined as you heard giggles across the table. You quickly put the spoon down and pretended like you hadn’t just gotten butterflies in your stomach.
“I’m glad you can be our mom,” Jiu said suddenly. “The other lady wasn’t as nice as you.” The other lady? You looked over at Mingyu again with an arched brow, silently asking him to explain himself.
“I was seeing someone before I met you. It ended pretty quickly… that’s why I spent some time at the cottage last year,” he explained, and the tension in your shoulders disappeared. “It isn’t nice to talk behind people’s backs, okay kids? And Ms. Y/L/N isn’t your mom.”
“Why not?” Ari asked.
“Because…” Mingyu tried to find an answer but trailed off instead. You weren’t one to put yourself into other people’s business, but explaining things to kids was your job - and you trusted that Mingyu wouldn’t take offense to you saying a few words at this moment, especially not since he kept glancing over at you.
“You know when you really like someone?” You said, getting the girls' attention. “You might decide that you’re going to hold hands or be together, right?” The two girls nodded. “We adults do the same thing,” you explained. “Except for us, there’s a stage before we say that we’re together. We spend some time getting to know each other better by going out and doing things like getting dinner or seeing a movie.”
“Are you doing that right now?” Jiu asked.
“Not exactly…” You looked over at Mingyu, who gave you a supportive nod. “Usually, you spend time alone together, and I haven’t gotten to do that with your dad… so we’re not together, and that’s why I can’t be your mom.”
“Then I think he needs to hurry up,” Jiu deadpanned before taking the last bite of her cake. Glancing over at Mingyu again, you saw how flustered he had gotten from the comment. You decided at that moment that you’d join the girls in their teasing - seeing his flushed face was enough motivation.
“He should hurry, shouldn’t he?” you said, and both of the girls nodded. “Well, I’ll forgive him since he’s been so busy - but he needs to make up for it.”
“Could he take you out to dinner tomorrow night, then?” Mingyu asked with a sheepish smile.
“What do you think?” You turned to the girls. They were both furiously nodding, making you break out into a chuckle. You turned back to Mingyu, pretending to think it over. He looked like he was about to fall apart, so you decided to put him out of his misery. “Absolutely.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
It’s a Saturday evening when you’re getting ready for your date. You had spent your day at home, trying to find an outfit to wear for your night out. Mingyu had texted you to wear something pretty, but that it should be comfortable for you. With the vague directions, there were a myriad of things that you could put together. You hadn’t been on a real date since before Wonwoo - unless you counted what you and Mingyu did at the cottage as dating. The expectations were high, which left you feeling stressed. However, when you find an old dress in the back of your closet, you feel the tension in your shoulders melt away. It was a dress you had bought two years ago that you hadn’t gotten to wear yet - you had bought it yourself, which was unusual during your last relationship, without a plan for when you were going to wear it. You had just bought it because it was pretty, and it still managed to make you feel beautiful. For once, during these traumatic few years, you felt pretty and subsequently happy. You knew you shouldn’t base your happiness on your beauty, but was it so wrong to feel glee over getting ready and genuinely liking what the mirror showed you? The apartment phone rang, and you pressed the button to answer. A surge of energy went through your veins at the thought of Mingyu coming to get you - your heart quickening to a pitter-patter pace.
“Hello?” You said.
“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice rang sweetly in your ears. “Could you let me up?”
“I’ll come down to meet you!” you chimed. Mingyu’s soft chuckle even managed to make you weak in the knees over the apartment phone.
“Alright, I’ll see you soon.” When the elevator doors open, you can see Mingyu’s figure through the glass of the front door. Sprinting toward the door, you excitedly pulled it open to see all of him. Mingyu smiled as soon as he saw you, making your heart feel even warmer. His eyes traveled up and down your body, drinking in your appearance. He looked fantastic himself, in his usual suit and perfectly styled hair.
“Hi,” you said as you closed the door behind you, unable to look away from him.
“Wow,” was all Mingyu said.
“Do you like it?” You looked down at the dress, twisting and turning so that he could see a little more of it.
“You look stunning,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take. “I love it.”
You take his hand, and he guides you away from the apartment complex. His words made you feel giddy, the kind of feeling you get when you watch a very romantic movie with a handsome lead. At the end of the street, you see a cab waiting for you. The walk to the car is silent but filled with anticipation. Mingyu’s hand is warm in yours, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. When you arrive at the cab, Mingyu opens the door for you and holds your hand while you get in before he gets in beside you. The evening started with drinks. As you had expected, the restaurant he took you to was fancy. You had been to these kinds of places before, but it had been a while - and you had never been to this particular place. Mingyu ordered for you, per your request, and you ended up being pleasantly surprised. The food was almost too pretty to eat, but when you did, it was like your mouth had an orgasm. Your eyes widened as you chewed, looking over at Mingyu to see if he was having the same experience. He was looking at you with an amused smile.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“More than okay.” You put down your fork as if you could take a break from the intense flavor. “This is delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Mingyu chuckled.
“I do- I mean, maybe it’s because I haven’t eaten something like this in a while…” You picked up your wine glass and brought it to your lips.
“Well, it’s our first date, so it has to be special.” Mingyu was looking down at his plate, an uncharacteristically shy smile playing on his lips.
“It is special.” You put your hand, palm facing up, on the table. “I’m happy you asked me out.”
Mingyu put his hand in yours, locking eyes with yours again. The two of you look at each other, the rest of the restaurant fading away. Butterflies fly out of your ribcage, tickling the insides of your chest with their wings. Mingyu looks like your dream man; kind eyes, a pretty smile, and a beautiful man in general - the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Not only that, he was kind and understanding; patient and confident. The waiter walking over to give the two of you your next meal was the only reason you broke out of your trance. You thanked the waiter and ogled at the delicious-looking food. Another waiter came by to pour you more wine. While you were reacting to your surroundings, Mingyu stayed looking at you lovingly.
“Do you want to go dancing after this?” He asked suddenly.
“Dancing? What kind of dancing?”
“Ballroom dancing,” Mingyu said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I know a place.”
“Why am I not surprised?” You chuckled. “Sure, I’ll go dancing with you.” Mingyu squeezed your hand before letting go to start eating.
After dinner, the two of you get back into a cab and travel from the city towards the suburbs. You had no idea where he was taking you, but you trusted him fully - maybe it was the alcohol, or Mingyu had truly laid out all of his cards on the table for you to see. In the back of the cab, you were sitting cuddled up next to Mingyu. His warmth was intoxicating, and you found yourself sinking further and further into his shoulder. Outside, the city lights grew fewer and fewer as you got closer to your destination in the suburbs. There were the occasional streetlights, but they were less bright than everything in the city. Darkness lulled over you like a parental blanket, urging you to close your eyes and sleep in the comfort of Mingyu’s presence. However, before you could fall asleep, you had arrived at your destination and Mingyu helped you out of the cab. You had stopped in front of a beautiful, old building with large windows. Music was playing inside, which you could hear from where you were standing on the sidewalk, but it was too muddled to figure out what it was. The chilly air woke you up somewhat, but sleep still lingered in the corner of your eyes.
“Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, sweetheart.” Mingyu came up beside you after paying for the cab and let you hook your arm around his. “This is one of my favorite places, I’m practically a regular, and I want you to enjoy it with me.”
“Then I have to stay awake, don’t I?” You steadied yourself against the man beside you and followed him inside the establishment. When you walk inside, Mingyu says his name to the receptionist, and they let him inside. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a regular. The corridor was wide and lit with warm-tinted lamps, giving everything a golden hue. It looked straight out of an Art Deco architecture magazine; marble floors with a geometric design, dark green walls, and golden details here and there. You were glad that you hadn’t fallen asleep - especially as you approached the ballroom. It was a large, round room - in the middle of which people were currently dancing. You could see a few people who looked to be around your age, but most of them seemed to be pensioners.
“You weren’t joking about ballroom dancing,” you said. “Why would I?”
He grinned and offered you his hand. “Would you like to dance with me?”
“Oh- well, I’m not any good-”
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Mingyu grabbed your hand and dragged you out to the dance floor. One of his hands rested on your waist while the other still held yours. It was a simple foxtrot, but you still had trouble following along. You kept stepping on Mingyu’s feet, cringing every time you did. However, when you tried to look down to see what you were doing, you were quickly corrected by Mingyu. He’d remove his hand from your waist to lift your chin back up, making you face him. Each time you’d huff, and he’d chuckle at your annoyance. It all became a little easier when a little slower song came on: Body & Soul by Billie Holiday. Mingyu brought you in a little closer, your chests touching completely. His cheek leaned against yours, and his hand on your back traveled up to rest right by your shoulder blades. The two of you simply swayed, moving in small steps around the room. In this relaxed tempo, you could finally stop and think.
“Why are you a regular here?” You asked.
“I’m not really,” he explained, “They’ve held a few charities here that I’ve donated to, and sometimes they hold events here for the people at the retirement home that you can volunteer for. I go whenever I have the time, so they’ve seen a lot of me.”
“Are you even real?” You jokingly asked as you removed your cheek from his to take a good look at him. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Well…” He breathed out. “There’s this woman that I’m practically head over heels for… but I can’t seem to get my shit together and kiss her, even though it’s all I can think about.”
“Oh?” You raised your eyebrow at him, playing along. “Tell me more about this woman.”
“Alright... First of all, she’s gorgeous,” he hummed. “More importantly, she’s warm-hearted, and she’s great with my kids- which is a big deal breaker for me… and I admire her strength, how she can keep going after what she’s been through.”
“Yeah?” You wrapped both of your arms around his neck.
“Yeah,” he said.
“I think she wants to kiss you, too,” you admitted. Mingyu put his free hand on your cheek, bringing you in for a chaste kiss… followed by another, slightly longer one. The two of you stopped moving, focusing on just getting closer. When he pulled away from you, he started smiling proudly.
“As much as I loved being here, I really want to leave with you now,” you murmured.
“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.” Mingyu pecked your lips a final time before leading you off the dance floor.
Outside the venue, the air was colder than it had been when you had gotten out of the cab earlier that evening. Noticing your shivering, Mingyu shrugged off his jacket and put it around your shoulders. You were about to protest, but feeling the warmth wrap around you made you quiet down.
“Thank you,” you said to him.
“I can’t have you getting a cold on our first date,” he mumbled. “Do you want to walk around for a bit? This place is peaceful at this time of night.”
“I’d like that.” You gave him a nod and a smile, locking arms with him again. Mingyu walked slowly with you down the street. It was peaceful, as he had said; most of the lights in the houses were off, but the few homes that were still awake gave the street a certain glow. It all feels magical, too good to be true… which it is. You don’t recognize him at first. You only see a couple walking with their stroller. However, when they get closer, you can’t help but recognize your ex-husband. Surprisingly, he doesn’t see you at first - he notices Mingyu first.
“Kim Mingyu!” He said with a smile and a wave. “What are you doing all the way out here?”
“Mr. Jeon.” Mingyu goes to shake your old lover’s hand. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you since our meeting.”
The two of them talked while you stood frozen in fear. Do they know each other? How had you never seen them together before? Your eyes went over to the stroller, and seeing the baby in it made your heart sink. She looked like Wonwoo - you had seen his baby photos, and she was almost a complete replica of them. Gyeong Hui gave you a bittersweet smile, looking at you with knowing eyes. She had already recognized you. Looking back at Wonwoo, who was still talking to Mingyu, you wondered if he was happy. All of these thoughts were washed away when you finally met Wonwoo’s gaze. For a moment, you forgot that he had moved on from you. His eyes were kind, a soft smile on his lips. However, as quickly as he managed to make you feel comfortable, he also made your nerves worse.
“Y/N…” he said. “Hi.”
“Hi, Wonwoo.” Your voice was weak, more so than you wanted to.
“Ah… is this the Mingyu you were talking about?” He pointed between you and Mingyu, and you could feel the man next to you tense up.
“I… uh…” You looked at Mingyu, who didn’t show a twinge of confusion despite you being caught in your lie. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m glad you found someone like him.” Wonwoo approving of your relationship was the last thing you wanted. You didn’t want him to have anything to do with your new relationship - you just wanted him out of your life. After some small talk, you go your separate ways. Wonwoo goes home with his family, and you’re left standing, feeling like the husk of yourself. Mingyu’s hand rested on your back, rubbing it comfortingly.
“I didn’t know…” he said.
“It’s okay,” you muttered. “I’m sorry about telling him I was seeing you- I didn’t even know what I was thinking. I just met him while on my way to work- I hadn’t even seen you since the cottages, but I just blurted out that we were dating and-”
“You don’t have to explain,” he interrupted. “It’s a little flattering in a way.”
You chuckled, immediately feeling lighter as he joked it away. Mingyu brought you in for a hug, letting you bury your face in his warm chest. Wrapping your arms around him, you felt tears start burning in your eyes. When Mingyu heard you sniffle, he put his hand on the back of your head - silently telling you to stay and cry for as long as you need to. You grip onto his shirt, probably creasing the expensive material. You couldn’t bring yourself to fully sob, but a few tears escaped from the corner of your eyes.
“Do you want me to call a cab and take you home?” Mingyu asked. You nodded, and Mingyu immediately pulled out his phone. Standing outside your apartment complex, Mingyu was still holding your hand. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying in the cab, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m sorry for ruining tonight,” you said.
“You didn’t.” He squeezed your hand. “I knew that things wouldn’t be completely normal with you, and I’m fine with that.”
“Stop being so perfect,” you jokingly groaned and leaned your head against his shoulder.
“Sorry, I can’t help it.” Mingyu laughed. You looked back up at him. Even if it was just a joke, to you, he truly was perfect. His big puppy-dog eyes looked back down at you as if he were trying to figure out what you were thinking about. When you leaned a little closer, Mingyu took the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss on your lips. It was chaste and sweet but left you wanting more.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” As Mingyu went to leave, you didn’t let go of his hand. You couldn’t.
“... could you stay with me tonight?” You asked.
“Are you sure? You don’t want to be alone?”
“If you have a babysitter at home, I get it.” You put your other hand on his. “But I want you here, Mingyu.”
“Well, I can’t say no to that.” He smiles. “The girls are with their grandparents. I’ll just tell them that I’ll come by a little later tomorrow to pick them up.”
Mingyu made himself at home in your apartment, sitting with you on the couch while a movie is playing on the TV. Your head is on his chest, and Mingyu’s arm is wrapped around you. The domestic scene feels just right as if you’d been doing this for years together. However, as it gets late, you realize that you don’t have any clothes for Mingyu to borrow. He was still in his suit, sans jacket, and that couldn’t be too comfortable. So, while Mingyu was washing up in the bathroom, you were furiously looking through your wardrobe to find something for him to wear. You were so focused on the task at hand that you didn’t hear Mingyu walking into the room.
“Did you lose something?” He asked. His sudden question made you jump, quickly whipped around to look at him. Mingyu was holding his neatly folded clothes in his hands, putting himself on full display. He was standing confidently in nothing but his underwear as if he was straight out of a Calvin Klein ad.
“... I was going to find you something to wear.” You looked him up and down. “I guess that’s not an issue anymore.”
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen me naked before,” he joked.
“No, I-” You huffed. “I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“I appreciate it, sweetheart, but I’m fine just like this if you are.” He put down his clothes on a nearby chair. “And if you want me to sleep on the couch, I’ll do that.”
“I want to sleep with you.” You regretted it as soon as you said it, twisting your face in embarrassment as you heard Mingyu chuckle. “I mean… I want to sleep next to you… I’m going to wash up. Make yourself comfortable.”
Before Mingyu could tease you, you left the room. You could hear him laugh behind you, making your cheeks get even hotter. After washing up in the bathroom, you change into your somewhat embarrassing pajamas and go back to the bedroom. Mingyu was lying in your bed. The covers dragged up to his mid-torso. He was scrolling on his phone but looked up as soon as he heard you come in. His eyes focused on your white pajama pants with small red hearts, a big grin appearing on his face.
“Don’t laugh,” you warned.
“They’re cute,” he assured you. Mingyu reached over to the other side of the bed, pulling away the covers for you to get in. Walking up to the side of the bed, you hesitantly sit down. You hadn’t slept in the same bed as him for over a year. It felt weird to see him like this like you were trying to remake a distant memory. Nevertheless, you lay down and pull up the covers. As Mingyu turns over to turn off the light, you watch his back carefully. A need to reach out and touch his bare skin fills you, burning in the bottom of your stomach. When Mingyu turned back around, he shuffled closer to you but didn’t touch you yet.
“... do you still like to cuddle to fall asleep?” he mumbled. Y
ou nodded and immediately shut your eyes as Mingyu wrapped his arms around you. His body was warm, and every muscle in your body relaxed under his touch. Your head was on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. At first, Mingyu’s hands stayed still on your back. However, they soon started moving around - drawing circles on your skin over the fabric of your shirt and even letting his fingers slide under the hem of your shirt.
“Mingyu…” you hummed.
“Yes, sweetheart?” He asked innocently while his hands continued feeling you up.
“What are you doing?” You smiled, burying your face deeper in his chest.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
Mingyu’s hand made their way to the top of your pajama bottoms. Grazing the skin under the fabric, he whispered out if it was okay - to which you whimpered out a yes. He pulled down your pants to your mid-thigh, groping your ass before turning you around to lay with your back against his chest. You felt his semi-hard cock poking against your ass. The anticipation of finally feeling him inside you again made you dizzy. His hand cupped your pussy over the thin material of your underwear, then let his hand up to the hem of your panties… only to go past them and rest on your lower stomach.
“Gyu?” You mumbled as you were brought out of your daze.
“Are you sure you want this?” he muttered against the skin of your neck. You turned around to look at him. His pupils were blown out, but his eyes were still filled with worry. You got closer to him, pressing your lips against his in an attempt to show him how much you needed him right now. Mingyu responded to your kiss but pulled away just a few seconds later - his lips ghosting over yours.
“I just mean that you were upset before– I didn’t think before I started this,” he explained softly. “And I don’t want you to feel like you have to or do it because you’re not in the right state of mind… you just looked so pretty, and I-”
“Gyu,” you repeated, getting him to stop talking. “I want you.” Your lips reconnected, and you could feel Mingyu smiling against you. You cling onto Mingyu’s shoulders as he turned you over to be on top of him. In the middle of your kiss, you managed to kick your pajama pants off - only breaking contact to let out a soft giggle at the strange situation. Sitting comfortably with your legs on either side of his hips, you began pressing quick kisses to his jaw. Trailing kisses down his neck, you find a sensitive spot right by his ear - that made a whine slip out between his lips when you attached your lips to it.
“I thought I had figured out how to push all of your buttons already,” you muttered against his skin.
“Guess you’ll have to keep experimenting on me.” He grinned. “I’m a willing test subject.”
“Of course you are,” you purred. You got down to his hips, pulling at his underwear until he helped you take them off. His big cock slapped against his abdomen, and your mouth watered at the sight. While Mingyu’s hands were gripping your pillows, you were trying to take his entire length in your mouth. Peering up at him through your lashes, you could see his face contorted in pleasure.
“I missed your mouth so much, baby,” he whined, and you hummed in response. “Fuck… you’re gonna make me cum from just that…” He gently grabbed your hair and pulled you off him. “Save it for another time,” he rasped. “I need to fuck you, please…”
“Do you have a condom?” you asked. “I don’t have any here…”
“No… but I got checked just a couple of months ago. I haven’t been with anyone since you last year,” he admitted.
“Are you asking me if you can fuck me raw?” You grinned.
“Yes?” You crawled back up to kiss him, letting him taste himself on your tongue. He moaned into your mouth, and you felt yourself getting more and more lost in pleasure. Mingyu grabbed your hips, subtly moving them over his abs. Feeling the soft ridges over the material of your panties made you whine. You broke the kiss, trying to catch your breath.
“Fuck me. I need you to take control of me,” you murmured. “Do what you want with me– just let me forget everything…”
Something in him snapped, and before you knew it, Mingyu had flipped you over, manhandling you to have your ass up in the air. Your chest was pressed against your mattress, your face hidden in the pillows. His cock, after having teased your entrance, stretched you out. He hadn’t prepped you for it at all, but he had gotten you wet enough to slide it in without much effort. A soft moan of relief left your lips as he bottomed out.
“Move,” you grunted. He followed your orders immediately, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back into you. You could picture his expression in front of you; his eyebrows knitted together, his eyes shut tight, and his mouth hung wide open. His hands were gripping your hips, pulling you back as he thrust his hips. The noises he was making were almost animalistic and mixed with the filthy sounds coming out of your mouth, you knew you were going to get a noise complaint. You couldn’t help it, and you didn’t care. Mingyu had never been so domineering before - asking him to take full control of you must have flipped a switch in his brain. So when he pulled you up by your hair, wrapping an arm around your middle to hold you there, you let out a surprised gasp. His thrusts continued while he started kissing the side of your neck.
“I’m better than him, aren’t I?” He grunted. At first, his words didn’t meet your brain, too far gone to process what he was saying. But when you finally understood what he had said, you were shocked at his bluntness. More importantly, you were shocked at how much you liked it.
“Yes,” you moaned. “
Say it.” “You’re better than him,” you whined. “Fuck– you’re bigger than him, too!”
“Yeah?” He thrust harder into you. “Gonna make you forget all about him… do you want that, baby?”
Words couldn’t come out of your mouth. Your jaw was slack, Mingyu coaxing moan after moan from your throat, and you could only nod. With inappropriately gentle hands, Mingyu helped you lay down with your back on the bed. The empty feeling you got when he pulled out of you made you whine, but you were soon shut up by Mingyu burying himself in you again. As he continued thrusting, his lips attached to your clavicle - trailing down to your chest to let his tongue slide over the pebbled flesh. Your fingers entangled themselves in his hair, holding him there.
“You’re making me feel so good, Gyu,” you whined, followed by a string of curses. “Please, make me cum!”
With a new motivation, Mingyu’s lips left you as he focused all of his energy on your cunt. Thrusting into your sopping hole and rubbing your clit until you were convulsing under him. As your eyes rolled into the back of your head, you saw a bright light and felt a warmth spreading from your core. After your orgasm, your limbs grew limp, and you didn’t even have the energy to open your eyes. Mingyu pulled out of you, cumming on your stomach after pumping his cock in his hand a few times. He collapsed beside you, making sure not to crush you with his body.
“Sweetheart?” His voice rang sweetly in your ears, making you smile. “Are you still awake?”
You hummed, turning to hug him closer. He welcomed you in his arms, and when your sweaty skin met his, you could swear that you could feel static between you. After a while of staying in the same position, you found yourself almost falling asleep. You knew that you’d hate yourself in the morning if you didn’t clean up, so you gently tapped Mingyu’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Can you help me to the bathroom?” you whispered. “Sure, sweetheart.”
Mingyu got up, stretching slightly before he picked you up like you weighed nothing. He carried you over to the bathroom with your guidance and put you down to draw the two of you a bath. You handed him some of your bath products - calming serums, bath bubbles, the works - which he put in without question. When your bathroom started smelling like an English garden and the bathtub was filled with water, Mingyu helped you into the tub and then sat down behind you. You settled in your place, relaxing your muscles in the hot water, and leaned your back against Mingyu’s broad chest. A sigh escaped your lips, and Mingyu chuckled.
“Feeling tired?” He teased, and you nodded.
“Yeah,” you breathed out. “It was worth it, though.” Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He pressed chaste kisses to your sensitive skin - suddenly so different from the way he was before. You turned your head to give him more access, but Mingyu’s kisses stopped.
“It was good then?” he asked with a slight hint of worry laced in his tone.
“Really good.” You looked at him over your shoulder. “I didn’t know you had that side in you.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” He pecked the side of your mouth. “You’ll find out.”
You grinned and turned back around, settling back into your previous position. The two of you sat there for a while until the water wasn’t quite as hot anymore. When you got back out, you drained the bath and washed off quickly before wrapping yourselves in fluffy towels. Your legs were still sore, but not as much as they were before the bath. Still, Mingyu insisted on helping you back to bed. After laying you down, he pulled the covers over your body and went around the bed to get in himself. Neither of you had bothered with putting on new clothes, and you found yourself enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours - nothing was in between you.
“Do you want me to stay tomorrow?” Mingyu asked suddenly.
“Why wouldn’t I want you to stay?” You chuckled. “I thought you might want space,” he mumbled.
“I’ve had enough space from you,” you reminded him. “Stay for as long as you want, Gyu.” Mingyu let out a giggle - you would never get over the feeling you got from hearing this big, confident man giggle. His arms wrapped a little tighter around you, pressing your face into his chest, and he put his chin on the top of your head. Mingyu’s giggle was contagious, almost like he was transmitting his energy to you.
“What?”
“I like it when you call me Gyu,” he said.
“Good,” you hummed. “Sleep well, Gyu.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss on the top of your head. You stayed with your ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It started out fast, but as he slowly fell asleep, it started slowing down as well. The rhythm made you drift away to sleep.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
PART THREE.
The next time you saw Mingyu, it was unexpected. You had decided to go to the park to enjoy the spring warmth and an excellent book. It was Sunday the week after your date, which meant that you didn't have any work, and you could do whatever you liked with your time. The thought of asking Mingyu if he wanted to meet up certainly popped into your brain, but you assumed that he was busy. You had been texting him frequently, and he had shown up to pick up his kids almost every day the past week, but you still felt a little awkward to ask him out suddenly. The possibility of rejection was too high - he could be busy with work or with his kids, and you didn’t want to interrupt either of those things.
The park was big, another plus of living in a well-off neighborhood, and it had many benches where you could spend your leisure time. The weather was just right, not too cold and not too hot. There were some concerning dark clouds in the sky, but they were too far away for you to care about them. Most of the park was just fields, which was perfect for the dogs running around, but there were also small patches of trees and a few playgrounds here and there. It was a peaceful scene this early in the day. After walking for a while, you found a spot by a small duck pond with a bench looking over the water. After sitting down, you pulled out your book and started reading. It felt nice to get out of your apartment. if you hadn't, you would've been sitting on the couch watching yet another show by now. The thought was tantalizing, but being here was better for your overall health. Besides, if you hadn't ended up sitting down at that bench, you wouldn't have met up with Mingyu. In the distance, you could hear a familiar pitchy voice shout your name. When you looked up, you saw two kids running toward you.
“Ms. Y/L/N!” Ari shouted with a big smile, her sister running right beside her.
Behind them, you could see Mingyu walking towards you. He was unusually dressed down - just light-wash jeans and a white collared shirt under a thin jacket - but it suited him. You put your finger where you left off on the page before closing the book. A smile spread across your lips as you watched the two girls approach you, and you put the book back in your bag to greet them.
“What are you guys doing here?” You asked as they reached the bench you were sitting on.
“We decided to take a morning walk to the duck pond.” Mingyu had caught up with the twins, now standing just a little bit away from the bench. “We tried our luck on the other side of the pond, but the ducks over there didn’t like us.”
“He was going to feed the ducks with us, but the ducks swam away,” Jiu explained.
“Yeah…” Ari disappointedly looked up at her dad, “He scared them away.”
“I was trying to get closer to them!” he exclaimed with an embarrassed look on his face. You let out a soft laugh at the trio. Their antics were endless, but you enjoyed watching the show they put on. A small ache took its place in your chest. Watching them made you remember the family that you had always wanted.
“Dad's also helping us practice for the play,” Jiu added. “Because he said he can't come on Friday, so he wanted to watch us do it now.”
You had almost forgotten that the play was just in a few days. Seeing the brave faces the girls put on, despite clearly being sad at the knowledge of their dad’s absence at the play, made your heart sink.
“You can't be there?” You furrowed your brows as you looked up at Mingyu.
“There's a meeting I have to be at, and it ends right as the play is supposed to start.” He sighed. “I told them I would try to make it, but, you know…”
“Well, I heard that they record the plays, so... maybe I can get you a copy of that,” you suggested. “But I do hope that you at least try to get there, even if you only see the last parts.”
"Of course…” He nodded, and the conversation faded into silence. “... I texted you this morning.”
“You did?” You took your phone out of your bag. “Sorry, I put my phone on silent earlier.”
It was a short message, a simple question if you would like to meet up in the park. You smiled when you saw it. When you looked back up at him, he was looking away. A slight blush was spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
“Dad said you couldn't come with us to see the ducks. Did you change your mind?” Jiu asked. Her question made Mingyu's face grow even redder, and your smile grew fonder. You looked down at Jiu, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face.
“Yes, I did,” you said and stood up.
“Oh, but if you're busy-” Mingyu started, but you quickly cut him off.
“I'm not busy,” you assured him.
Mingyu’s smile when you told him you’d join them made your heart soar, and you realized at that moment that you’d do anything to make him happy. You spent the day with Mingyu and his daughters, feeding the ducks, going to the playground, and simply enjoying each other's company. Towards the middle of the afternoon, the clouds that you hadn't bothered being worried about were a lot closer than before. Mingyu helped the girls zip up their coats before he turned to you. You were just wearing a blouse and a skirt since you weren't expecting to stay at the park for so long. It was cold, but nothing you couldn’t handle.
“Are you cold?” Mingyu asked, although he was already shrugging off his jacket.
“I’m fine, Mingyu,” you tried to protest, but it was in vain. Mingyu's jacket engulfed your shoulders as he draped it around you. He fixed the collar of the jacket to hang securely, also letting his hands stay near you. You looked up at his face. He was staring right at you with a warm look in his eye. You remembered the night you had spent together last week, wishing to go back there.
“I wouldn't want you to catch a cold,” he murmured. “You take care of my kids, after all.”
“Is that the only reason?” you asked, faking being offended.
“Of course not,” he said with a small smile as he gently pushed some hair out of your face. He opened his mouth to add something, but before he could it started raining. Small droplets landed on your nose. You looked up at the about-to-be-downpour and took a step away from him.
“We should go home,” Mingyu said, turning to his girls. “What do you say, girls?”
“Will Ms. Y/L/N come with us?” they asked.
“No, girls, I have to go home.” You crouched down to their eye level. “But I will see you tomorrow, okay?”
They both nodded and unexpectedly swung their small arms around your neck - the force almost making you stumble backward. You hugged them back and glanced up at Mingyu.
“I will see you tomorrow, too then?” He asked as you stood up.
“Of course.” You smiled. “I have to return this jacket, after all.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The very next day, you were in your usual classroom, waiting for Mingyu to pick up his daughters. They were the last ones there, as they always were, but this time it was getting very late. You were stealing worried glances at the clock every other minute. What if something had happened to him on the way here? It was late enough for you to call him up and ask him where he was, and if he didn’t pick up, you’d need to call the kids’ grandparents.
“Did your dad say that he would be later than usual today?” You asked the girls carefully.
“No,” Ari said. “But he looked tired, so maybe he fell asleep.”
Before you could question her any further, Mingyu barged in through the door. If you thought seeing him in jeans and a t-shirt was weird, it was even stranger to see him in sweatpants. Like Ari said, he looked exhausted - even sick.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, and you couldn’t tell if he meant it for you or his twins. “I didn’t mean to be late, and I fell asleep in my study-”
“Slow down-” You tried to interrupt his ramblings, but he ended up interrupting himself with a sneeze.
“Mingyu, are you alright?” You got up from your chair and approached him. At first, Mingyu was apprehensive to let you near him. However, he didn’t have the energy to get away from you and ended up even leaning into you when you put your palm against his forehead.
“You’re burning up,” you mumbled.
“I just have a small fever, I’m…” He let out a soft sigh as you repositioned your hand to cup his cheek. “That feels nice.”
The girls giggled behind you, reminding you that they were still there and that you should try to not make a scene to worry them. Despite how endearing Mingyu looked right now, you took your hand away from his face. He was stumbling even though he wasn’t moving, and you quickly got him to sit down in a chair.
“Why didn’t you let your parents pick them up?” You whispered to him. “You didn’t go to work like this, did you?”
“I did... they sent me home, so I worked in my home office,” he explained with a goofy grin. “It's a lot nicer to work from home. I don't have to dress up... but I didn't want to miss seeing you, so I didn't bother asking my parents.”
Your blood started pumping with irritation as he kept smiling. He was taking this way too lightly - this was his health he was talking about, and he was joking it away. Did he just not care?
“Kim Mingyu, you are so incredibly irresponsible,” you said, making his smile fade away. “You should be resting… Did you drive here?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“I’ll drive you home.” You sighed. “Is that okay with you?”
Mingyu handed you his keys, which you quickly accepted. This was definitely against some sort of work code, but you didn't care. These girls needed to get home safely, and Mingyu needed to rest as much as he could.
“Let’s go, girls,” you said. “I’m taking you home.”
You walked out with Mingyu leaning against you and the twins following close behind. Lucky for you, your coworkers were nowhere to be seen - probably because of the late hour. It went smoothly to get out of the building, and the parking lot was pretty much empty too. You remembered what Mingyu’s car looked like and found it with minimal guidance from the man beside you. After getting the girls into their respective seats and buckling their seat belts, you got into the driver's seat. Mingyu was sitting beside you, leaning his head against the headrest. Now that he could settle down and had his eyes closed, he looked peaceful. You still had his jacket from yesterday that you had tucked under your arm before walking out of the building. Mingyu was shivering despite you turning up the heat in the car, so you took the jacket and draped it over his chest. Looking back at the girls, you tried to look confident and not like you were worried sick about their dad.
“Are you ready to go home, girls?” You asked and they both nodded. Turning back to face the wheel, you took a deep breath before starting the car. You drove them to their home, following the GPS' orders carefully. Mingyu was asleep during the drive, and the girls sat in the backseat, whispering and giggling. When you got to the destination, you had to wake him up, shaking his shoulder gently while keeping your eyes on the road.
“Sorry to wake you,” you murmured. “Where am I supposed to park?”
“It's this house right there. Just park the car right in front of the garage... I'll fix it later,��� he mumbled.
It was a big, modern house - probably newly built just a few years ago. Big floor-to-ceiling windows took up most of the otherwise white walls with dark wooden details. It was pretty much a box with a lot of interesting extensions, giving the whole house a very structured geometric feel. Shaking off the wonder you felt from just staring at the outside of the house, you parked and got out to help the girls. Mingyu went out shortly after you, still stumbling slightly as he walked towards the door.
“I’ll unlock the door,” he said with a yawn.
The inside of the home was well decorated and had dark wooden floors, matching the exterior details. There was a big living room area, which was connected to a patio. You could see back into the garden through the big glass sliding doors, quickly noticing a pool back there. The kitchen was also in the downstairs area. The cabinets were black, and the floor was lined with classic black and white tiles. Everything looked neatly put together, especially compared to your apartment. You helped the kids with their shoes and jackets, letting them run ahead after you were done. Mingyu took off his shoes by himself before slumping against the wall.
“You should go to bed,” you told him.
“Will you go with me?” He asked in a flirtatious tone.
“You’re getting on my nerves today…” You sighed and tried to bite back your smile. “I’ll put on the TV for the girls and help you to bed. Is that okay?”
Mingyu nodded, and you quickly went into the living room. The twins were already sitting on the couch, whispering between themselves.
“Do you girls want to watch something?”
“Yes, please!” They sounded in unison. You turned on the TV, after a few tries, and put on a show that the girls said they wanted to watch. They were sucked into it before you knew it, and you hurried over to Mingyu, who was still slumped against the wall.
“Let’s get you to bed,” you murmured. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“Upstairs.” Mingyu’s bedroom was neat, but the bed was unmade. Everything was decorated in black, giving it a sleek look. Leaning against the headboard, you helped Mingyu get into bed and pull the covers over him. You sat down on the edge of the bed, watching him with worried eyes.
“Did you get sick yesterday?” You asked.
“I’ve been feeling a little under the weather for a while now,” he explained. “But I don’t think yesterday helped.”
“I’m sorry.” You took his hand in yours, bringing it to lay in your lap.
“It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he said. “Thank you for taking me home… you were right. I was being irresponsible.” “Do you need anything else? I can make dinner for you and the girls.”
“That’d be very nice.” He nodded and closed his eyes. “I’ll help you. I just need to rest for a bit.”
“No, you won’t.” You sighed. “You’re going to rest up. I’ll bring food to you.”
“Thank you… please take care of the girls first. You can give me my food after putting them to bed- actually, I could get it myself. Just tell me when-”
“Mingyu,” you warned. “Let me take care of everything. I’ll put the girls to bed and get you food afterward, okay?”
“Okay…” Mingyu took a deep breath. “Their bedtime is eight o’clock sharp. Their room is down the hall to the right, in front of my office.”
“I’ll take care of it,” you promised and tucked him in a little better. “Rest well, okay?”
Mingyu let out a grunt for an answer as you got up to leave the room. Taking a final look at the sleeping Mingyu, you close the door behind you. The upstairs area wasn't as big as the downstairs area, but it was around the same size as your entire apartment. You looked around in awe, never having imagined that this was what Mingyu's home would look like. Despite having two kids, he kept everything clean - at least you thought so until you saw the kids' room. Toys were scattered here and there, but there was still enough space to walk around in the big room. There were two beds placed in separate corners of the room and a door to a closet in one of the corners. There was a window right in between the beds, allowing light to flow inside. The mess wasn't a big problem, just some stuff on the floor - it was easy enough for you to put away. You didn’t deep clean it, but you put away the toys where you thought they should be - a box with other toys in it put under the window. Once that was done, you explored further. You found the upstairs bathroom, where you noticed a toothbrush stand with three toothbrushes standing next to each other and one empty slot. After the bathroom, you found Mingyu's study, which you only took a glance at. This room was even messier than the girls' room. It was probably because he had left in a hurry before. Tissues were piling up in the trash, and papers were all over the dark wooden desk - as well as a few lying on the floor. The blinds were closed, leaving the room feeling closed off. You quickly left that room, not wanting to intrude any more than you already had. On your way to the staircase, you passed the upstairs bathroom and a room right in front of Mingyu's bedroom that you had somehow missed. The door was closed and even though you were curious, you decided to let it stay that way. When you got down the stairs, you found the girls still watching TV. Their attention went away from the screen as you came in to check on them.
“Are you feeling hungry?” you asked, and they both nodded. “Do you want to help me make some food?”
Making food with the girls was a fun experience. They were helpful when they were helping you find utensils or ingredients, but they still messed around a little. Whenever they had done something they shouldn’t have, like hiding the spices from you, they would let out a cute giggle. It would always give them away, but you still played along with them. After making dinner and tucking Jiu and Ari into bed, you got a plate of the leftovers and brought it up to Mingyu's room. The room was still dark, and he was still lying in bed in the same position you had left him in. Maybe he had shifted around a bit because his hair was a bit messier than before, but except for that hint, you couldn't tell. You sat down beside him and put your hand on his arm.
“I have some food for you,” you murmured. “And water.” Mingyu opened his eyes ever so slightly, shifting in the bed to bring his hands up to his face to rub the sleep out of his eyes. When he was done, he sat up, leaning his back against the headboard.
“You’re too nice to me,” he muttered in a raspy, sleep-laced voice.
“You would’ve done the same to me.” You handed him the glass of water. “Drink.”
You put the plate of food on his bedside table while he drank. A nervous feeling started spreading in your chest, suddenly realizing the position you were in. To combat these unfamiliar emotions, you got up and started closing the blinds.
“I put the girls to bed,” you said as you worked on closing the blinds. “They weren't very happy to go to sleep when you hadn't kissed them goodnight yet.”
“They get antsy if we don't follow the routine.” He chuckled. “Could you hand me the plate?”
After picking the plate back up, you sat down next to you. Without thinking, you took the spoon to feed him, like you used to do with the stubborn kids at the kindergarten you worked at before. Mingyu looked a little shocked but accepted the spoon by opening his mouth. Only after he had taken the bite did you realize what you had done.
“Oh- I’m sorry.” You felt heat rise to your face. “I didn’t mean to be patronizing- it’s an old habit from my last job-” Mingyu’s laugh stopped your rambling. You attempted to give him the plate, but he pushed it away. He couldn't get a word out, still trying to chew through the fit of giggles. His hand was over his mouth as he looked away from you. If he were to look into your lost puppy dog's eyes, he would start laughing again.
“It’s alright,” he said eventually. “I don’t mind being pampered… especially not by you.”
Your eyebrows shot up over your forehead. Mingyu motioned for you to come a bit closer, and you shuffled a few inches closer to him. He looked expectantly at the plate and then back at you. With a slightly shaky hand, you brought another spoon of food to his mouth, which he gladly accepted. Seeing him genuinely happy over this made you a bit more comfortable. You shuffled even closer to him, sitting down in a better position to feed him. It felt strange, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his happy expressions.
“Your cooking is good,” he mumbled between bites.
“It’s just something I threw together.” You brushed off his compliment. “It’s nothing special.”
“Thank you anyway,” he said before taking the last bite. After putting away the plate on the bedside table, you went to get up, but Mingyu grabbed your hand before you could leave. He peered up at you through his eyelashes, and you could’ve melted at the sight. Gently, he pulled you back towards him, and you sat down without any resistance. He let go of your hand and put his hand on your thigh.
“I’m sorry for causing so much trouble for you today,” he said. “It’s alright,” you hummed. “I wanted to help… and cooking with the kids was nice.”
“Well, I’m happy you could enjoy yourself.” He had a look in his eyes that you couldn’t figure out, but it was warm and loving. You wanted to know what he was thinking - what he thought of you. Suddenly you started hearing giggling from behind you. When you turned around, you saw two black-haired heads peeking out from the side of the doorframe. Your body was in the way for Mingyu to see them, but his daughters were grinning widely at the sight of the two of you. Even though he couldn’t see them, Mingyu understood that they were there from your reaction and the sound of their laughter.
“Girls, it’s bedtime!” Mingyu dictated with a stern yet kind tone of voice.
“But we didn’t get to say goodnight to you,” Ari argued. The girls ran inside the room and crawled up on the bed. You were about to get up to give them space when you noticed that Mingyu's hand hadn't moved from your leg. He squeezed it gently, and when your eyes met his, it looked like he was silently asking you to stay. So you sat there with them, watching as Mingyu spoke with his daughters and apologized for not saying goodnight earlier.
“I’m a little sick, so I had to rest,” he explained to the girls. “I’m sorry I missed your bedtime.”
“Are you better now?” Jiu asked.
“Did Ms. Y/L/N make you better?” Ari added.
“He's doing a lot better than he was before,” you said as you glanced between the man in front of you and his daughters. “But my expert opinion says that he still needs a full night's rest.”
“You can't kiss it better?” Ari asked, giggling with her sister.
“Yeah, you can't kiss it better?” Mingyu asked in a mocking tone, gently squeezing your leg again. You put your hand on top of his and put it down beside you again without looking over at him. Even if he was able to be very mature most of the time, he tended to bring out his childish side from time to time. As you took his hand away from your leg, he almost looked like he regretted saying it.
“A good night's rest is all he needs, I promise you,” you assured the twins, “And you two should also go back to bed.”
After a bit of complaining, they said goodnight to their dad and scurried back to their room. You looked after them until they had closed the bedroom door behind them. Mingyu’s hand snuck back to its place on your thigh.
“I’ll go check that they’re sleeping before I leave,” you said.
“You’re leaving?” He sounded surprised. His grimace after saying it made it clear that he didn’t mean for it to come out like that.
“Mingyu, I couldn’t possibly intrude any longer-”
“You’re not intruding,” Mingyu remarked. “I have a guest room, and you can borrow some clothes from me- you can take a shower if you want to, too. Just… I don’t want you to leave all on your own this late at night.”
He seemed so determined, and how could you give up on such an offer? His hand squeezed your leg again, a kind gesture that asked you to stay. You thought back to all the time you had spent together in the cabins. It had been so long that you seemed to have forgotten that you knew him quite well for just being his children's teacher. You took his hand in yours again, looking down at it to try to distract yourself from his strong gaze.
“I’m sorry for leaving before,” you mumbled. “At the cabins… it was so wrong of me, I’m sorry.” Mingyu turned his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. You looked at him with a shy smile. For some reason, you had thought of your second meeting as a new beginning - but you can't just erase memories with another person to start over. The fact that you ever thought that felt deranged now.
“And I’m sorry for being a mess,” you continued when Mingyu hadn’t said anything for a while. “And for acting like nothing had happened when we finally met again-”
“Y/N,” he interrupted. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have pursued you again if I didn’t accept all that. I like you, and I know you’ve been through something horrible. I can be patient with you. I want to be someone you can lean on… even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”
You let out a stifled laugh and looked down at your intertwined hands. It felt nice to finally let your walls down a bit like you could finally let go of some of the tension you had been holding in your shoulders. Mingyu squeezed your hand, getting your attention back on him.
“I'm not going to ask you to sleep in my bed with me because, frankly, that'd be very stupid considering that I'm sick,” he said, making you laugh again. “But I just want to make sure that you don't have to go home alone and that you're safe.”
“Okay, I’ll stay,” you hummed. “Thank you.”
After taking a shower and changing into clothes that Mingyu let you borrow, you went straight to bed. It almost felt like a hotel bed, and the cozy feeling made you fall asleep immediately.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The next morning you woke up to your alarm ringing an hour before you had to leave the door. Hearing sounds coming from downstairs, you quickly got up and went to see what was going on. The clanging came from the kitchen. You hadn’t made a plan for what would happen in the morning, and you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you had accidentally left the kids unattended. However, when you arrived in the kitchen, you found Mingyu making breakfast and the girls tiredly waiting at the table. The noise was coming from the stove as he was cooking something that smelled delicious.
“Why are you up? Shouldn't you still be resting?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even process them.
“Good morning to you too, doctor,” Mingyu said with a raspy voice and handed you a newly brewed cup of coffee. “You'll be happy to hear that my symptoms have-”
You pressed your hand against his forehead again, interrupting whatever he was going to joke about, his fever had gone down, and he looked a lot better than the day before. Mingyu took your hand away from his forehead.
“My symptoms have died down,” he repeated. “Just a runny nose and sore throat. What do you think? Am I too sick to make breakfast?” His eyes were glimmering in the low light of the kitchen lamp, and that warm smile never left his lips. If it weren't for the fact that he was sick, you would've kissed that smile off his face.
“No…” You sighed. “I overreacted, I’m sorry-”
“You didn’t,” he assured you. “It’s nice to have someone care for me like you do.”
Mingyu's arm sneakily wrapped itself around your waist and brought you closer. He leaned his forehead against yours, still looking into your eyes. You did your best to not spill anything out of your cup, but it was getting increasingly hard since you were starting to be distracted. You peered over your shoulder, noticing that the two of you had started getting the attention of the twins.
“Could we save this for another day?” you asked and put a hand on his chest. “Maybe when we're not being watched?”
Mingyu looked up, immediately locking eyes with Ari and Jiu, who were standing on top of their chairs to see. His face twisted from worry to irritation, and you could hear more laughter coming from the table. At the sound of the bell-like giggles, Mingyu had trouble holding his scolding gaze and not replacing it with a warm smile.
“Hey! Sit down in the chairs, or you'll fall over!” Mingyu said and let go of you to bring the girls their breakfast. You watched him walk away, chuckling at his attempt to scold them. As he warned the girls of the dangers of standing up on chairs, he was placing their breakfasts in front of them and making sure that they’d start eating. Mingyu was still grumbling when he came back, but when you walked up next to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, he quickly quieted down. He looked at you with big eyes, doing mental loops to try to figure out what he had done to deserve it.
“Thank you for the coffee,” you said. “I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll see you soon.”
“Let me drive you,” he blurted out. “I need to take my girls there anyway.”
“If you feel fine, then I don’t see why not.”
“Oh, I’m feeling more than fine.” Mingyu leaned closer to you, but you put your hand on his chest to stop him.
“I don’t want to get sick,” you teased. “Besides, I’ve already given you a kiss.”
“I need another one to get all better.” He pouted.
“All you need is one,” you responded. “Doctor’s orders!” You watched his jaw go slack, tonguing his cheek as you started walking away.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Arriving in yesterday’s clothes, wearing whatever make-up you had with you in your bag, caused suspicion. Not only that, you had walked in just a little bit before Kim Mingyu - a hot, single dad. Many of your coworkers didn’t notice or care, but your closest coworker Joshua definitely noticed. He was what some people would call your work husband, and usually, you’d tell him everything while you were welcoming your kids in your separate classrooms.
“Did you have fun last night?” He asked.
“My night was just fine, Mr. Hong,” you responded. Most of the time, the two of you would gossip loudly with each other - but you couldn’t yell about staying over at Kim Mingyu’s house. Especially not with so many kids around - his kids included. When all of the kids were in your respective classrooms, Joshua got a little closer.
“I saw you walking in here with Mr. Kim. What’s that about?” He whispered. “And I’ve never seen you in the same clothes two days in a row, so you have to tell me everything about last night.”
“I will…” You paused to let him celebrate getting your new gossip. “... At lunch.”
“You’re no fun.” Joshua sighed, making you laugh.
At the anticipated lunch, you sat down in the teacher’s lounge with Joshua in a corner of the room. The two of you sat in mostly silence, except for a few comments about your day so far or what you were going to do later while waiting for as many people as possible to leave. When it was just a few people in the room, Joshua turned to you with an expectant look in his eyes.
“Tell me everything,” he said.
“It was nothing.” You put down your cup of coffee. “He came in sick, and I helped drive him home…” Joshua raised one of his eyebrows, silently urging you to keep talking. “And I might have stayed the night at his house…” You sighed.
“How?” he questioned. “I mean, if that’d happen to anyone else, they wouldn’t let them stay in their house.”
“I might’ve known him since before I started this job…” You dragged out each word as if it’d help contain your secret a little longer. Your coworker stared at you with his jaw on the floor. He put away his lunch and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You have a lot of things to tell me,” Joshua asserted. “
Well, you know about my ex,” you said, and he nodded. “While trying to get over him, I stayed at my aunt’s cottage in the forest.”
“Yeah, you’ve said this.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “You stayed there for two weeks and came back to get your shit together. Am I missing something?”
“I didn’t tell you about my neighbor…” As soon as you said it, Joshua’s eyes widened. “The reason I decided to ‘get my shit together’ in the first place is because of him.”
“Mr. Kim?”
“Yes. He was there for me, and we developed some kind of relationship… but then I left without giving him my number or even saying goodbye.” You looked down at your lap. “I didn’t want to get hurt again.”
“Y/N…” Joshua put his hand on the table for you to take, which you did. “I’m sorry for prying about this, and you don’t have to continue.”
“It’s okay… I actually need your advice,” you said, and he nodded. “We met again when he picked up his kids- I didn’t even know he had kids, but it’s fine now. Now we’ve been seeing each other from time to time, trying to sort of pick up where we left it.”
“Oh my god.” Joshua leaned back in his chair again, letting go of your hand in the process. “You’re living in a rom-com.”
“Stop.” You chuckled. “Anyway, I care about him… but I don’t know where to go from here.”
“So you’ve been on dates?”
“We went on a date a few weeks ago, and then we ended up meeting in the park last Sunday,” you explained.
“And you’ve…?” Your silence spoke for itself, and Joshua cheered. He’d been on your ass to get back in the dating scene since you had told him about your ex. “You just need to get laid” was a daily comment you’d receive from him. “How is he?”
“Joshua.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’ll drop it.” He paused and studied your expression for a few seconds. “He’s good, isn’t he?”
“I almost forgot my own name,” you whispered with your hand covering the side of your mouth, shielding your words from any potential listeners.
“Alright, alright.” He nodded proudly. “So you guys are getting serious?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, well, I’m happy for you,” he hummed. “He seems like a nice man, someone that you can grow with.” Joshua put his elbows on the table, leaning forward slightly. His otherwise silly and easy-going expression changed into a more serious look.
“Do his kids know?” He asked. “They’re suspecting it, but I don’t think they understand it.” You sighed. “I know, it’d be weird for them…”
“Not just them,” he reminded you. “If any of the other kids find out - let alone their parents - it could get very complicated, you know?”
“I know.”
“I’m not telling you to stop seeing him. You deserve to be happy.” He sighed. “But sadly, you have to be careful with it. You never know what might happen when others find out, and they will. More importantly, if it doesn’t work out, it can be hard on the kids.”
You took a deep breath as his words settled in your head. You hadn’t even considered what would happen if you ended up breaking up. Joshua’s words would stick with you through the rest of your much lighter conversation, and for the rest of the day, it would chafe in the back of your mind. For the rest of the week, you barely talked to Mingyu. Partly because he was busy getting over his cold and then catching up at work, but also because you were ignoring him. Sometimes you’d see his call and let it go to voicemail. You texted from time to time and let your excuse for not talking to him be the preparations for the play on Friday.
A part of you still thought that he might show up to the play, for the girls' sake, of course, even if it was naive of you to think. You didn’t even see Mingyu at pick-up. With the amount of work he had to catch up on, he didn’t have time. His parents would pick up the kids instead. Friday, the day of the play, was spent making preparations for the afternoon - when all of the parents would come to see their kids perform. It wasn't anything particularly well-made, it was made by kids, after all - but the work that the kids had put in truly made you proud. The morning of the play, you asked Jiu and Ari if they knew if their dad would come after all. They had confirmed your fears of him most likely not coming at all. Despite them putting up a brave front, you could tell it made them very disappointed. You sat down with them backstage to make sure that they were okay.
“Why don’t I act as your grown-up for today?” You suggested. “Then you’ll still have someone watching you.”
“It’s not the same,” Ari said.
“You’re a teacher. You have to watch all the kids,” Jiu added.
“I’ll tell you what.” You looked around before shuffling a little closer to them. “If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll promise to pay extra attention to you two.”
It seemed to cheer them up. they even made you pinky-swear on it. However, you knew it wasn't as good as having their actual parent there - so you were determined to make Mingyu at least see the few last minutes. When everyone was in their costumes and had prepared for the play to start, you took your seat right by the stage. You saved a chair next to you, putting up a fake "reserved chair" sign on the seat. Before the play started, even before the parents had started coming in, you pulled out your phone and called Mingyu. As the phone was ringing, the nervous feeling in your chest started growing.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He sounded tired.
“Hi… um…” You took a deep breath. “I know that you’re busy, and the play starts in twenty minutes, but the twins… They really want you here. I tried cheering them up, but I don’t think it worked.” You heard him sigh and shuffle around. The sound of papers and other office supplies getting moved around could be heard over the phone. A door opened, and you heard mumbling.
“Cancel my next meeting, please,” Mingyu said with the phone held away from his face. “I have to go see my daughters’ play.” You heard more talking from the other person and a door closing.
“I’ll be there,” he said. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you, honey.” The nickname just slipped out. You hardly noticed it. “I’ve saved you a seat at the front.”
“You got me front-row seats? Wow, you really know how to spoil a guy.” Mingyu naturally fell into his flirty tone. Joshua sat down beside you on the chair that you hadn’t put a piece of paper with “RESERVED” written on it. With the sudden interruption, you couldn’t bring yourself to answer with the same flirty tone. You could hear Mingyu walking into the elevator on the other side of the line.
“Just be here, Mr. Kim…” you murmured.
“Mr. Kim!?” Joshua whisper-yelled, hearing you despite your attempt to hide it. Joshua leaned in closer to try to listen in on the conversation, and no matter how far you leaned away from him, you couldn’t get away.
“Mr. Kim?” Mingyu questioned. “No more ‘honey’? Have I done something wrong?”
“I have to go…”
“Y/N.” He sighed. “I know something’s wrong. You haven’t talked to me all week.”
“It’s nothing, Mingyu,” you hummed.
“But it is,” he argued. “Listen, we’ll talk later… I’m glad you called, sweetheart.” The two of you said goodbye, and you hung up. You don’t dare look at Joshua, but you can feel his gaze burning a hole in your skin.
“He calls you sweetheart?” He whispers.
“Joshua,” you warned.
“You guys are cute…” he mumbled. “Is everything okay, though? You’re okay, right?”
“... I haven’t talked to him in a while.”
“Y/N, no…” he whined.
“You’re the one who told me to be careful!” you exclaimed.
“I told you to be careful, not to ignore the poor guy!”
“Keep it down!” You hissed. You knew that if people found out that you used to sleep with one of the parents of the children you educated, suspicions of special treatment would arise even if they had no real claim.
“Seriously, Y/N. You should go for it with him. He seems good for you,” Joshua said. The parents started coming in before you could say something in response. His words stuck with you yet again, and you were struck with the realization that you had been a paranoid jerk. Your eyes were completely focused on the door, smiling at the occasional parent you would make eye contact with, but your main goal was to see Mingyu walking through that door. All the parents had settled down and were talking amongst themselves.
Fifteen minutes felt like hours, and you were still impatiently looking back to the door now and then. The lights dimmed. Mingyu still wasn't there. A teacher came out on stage to present the play. Mingyu still wasn't there. The parents clapped after the teacher's short speech, and as he walked off the stage and the music started, Mingyu came through the door. You happily waved to him, and he sprinted toward his seat just as Ari and Jiu walked out on stage. He gave them two thumbs up and a supportive smile before sitting down.
“Thank you,” Mingyu whispered in your ear. You wanted to thank him, too, for coming despite all the trouble, but the kids had already started speaking.
At the end of the play, you stand by the door and watch all of the families walk out - praising the kids and thanking the parents for coming. Mingyu is still in his seat, happily talking to Jiu and Ari. You glance over at him from time to time, a big clump of worry stuck in your throat. You had ignored him for days. Would he still want to stick around? All you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and tell him how much you cared for him, but you couldn’t. As the last family left, Mingyu started walking towards you. Joshua, who was standing on the other side of the door, gave you a thumbs-up before leaving. Mingyu walks up to you, his face somewhat colder than it usually is.
“We have to talk later.”
“I know.”
“I’m dropping the kids off at their grandparents’ house,” he said. “Could we meet up after?” “Sure. You can come by my apartment whenever you have time.” You clasped your sweaty hands together behind your back.
“I’ll text you,” he hummed. The small family walked away, the twins happily saying goodbye to you before running to the parking lot - blissfully unaware of the strangling feeling of guilt in you.
After pacing around your apartment for at least ten minutes, you got a text from Mingyu saying that he was on his way. Your heart was beating fast in your chest. In less than an hour, this could all be over. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down your racing heart. Every moment of your time with Mingyu flashed before your eyes. He could irritate you and make you worry, but in the end, you were the happiest you had ever been when you were with him. Even in the beginning of your relationship with Wonwoo, you hadn’t felt this way. If fate existed, this was it. You loved him, and you had realized it far too late. What anyone else thought didn’t matter. You wanted to be with him. A deep blue wave washed over you, your entire body going slack as you took another deep breath - this time, it reached into the deepest corners of your lungs. You felt refreshed as if simply admitting to yourself that you truly did love him had made you a new person. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him… the words echoed in your mind. Nothing had ever been so clear to you.
When your doorbell buzzed, Mingyu’s voice sounded over the intercom, asking if you could let him in, and you did so without hesitation. The few minutes it took for him to finally come upstairs were hell for you. You were waiting right by the door, expecting his knock at any moment now. His knuckles only met the wooden door once before you ripped the door open. Meeting his shocked gaze brought back the clump in your throat. He looked tired - hurt even. You had done this to him, and you’d do anything to fix it.
“Come in.” You stepped to the side and let him inside.
Mingyu walked inside, took off his shoes, and followed you into the kitchen. You were quiet and in desperate need to distract yourself with something. Looking back at him in the bright kitchen light, you could see the bags under his eyes more clearly now.
“Do you want coffee?” you asked.
“I just want you,” he rasped.
His arms hung by his side, his entire body standing completely still. You looked down at your feet, trying to stop yourself from crying - and if you couldn’t, you at least wanted to make sure that he didn’t see you cry.
“Are you sure?” you questioned. “I’ve been… I haven’t been very good to you, Mingyu.” Mingyu took a step forward, now standing right in front of you. One of his hands grabbed yours while the other lifted your chin to make you look at him.
“I’m sure.”
“What if I’m not good enough for you?”
“You’re more than enough for me,” he assured you. “I just… adore you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.” You brought your hand up to his cheek, cupping it in your palm and letting your thumb run over his cheekbone. Bringing your other hand to the back of his head, you pull him in closer for a kiss. As your lips met, Mingyu put his arm around your waist to pull you closer to his body. Fireworks exploded in your stomach as if it were the first time all over again. The kiss didn’t last long, your lips parting with a soft sigh rolling off your tongue. Your eyes stayed closed for a moment, still feeling the ghost of Mingyu’s plush lips against your own. When your eyes opened, you saw Mingyu looking right back at you.
“Please, never scare me like that again.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “When you stopped calling, I thought I had done something to upset you.”
“No, not at all,” you murmured. “I was… scared. I wasn’t sure of what to do next. You and I were doing well, but… what about your kids? If this ends, what will happen to them?”
“This won’t end.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” Mingyu put his hand over yours, which was still holding his face, and turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm.
“I’m in love with you,” he mumbled against your skin before turning back to look at you. “I haven’t felt like this in a very long time. I’ve been on many dates since my wife died, trying to pick up the pieces, but it always felt like something was missing. When I met you for the first time, I felt like you were the missing piece… and when I found you again, it felt like fate had given me a second chance. So, I don’t care about what your coworkers think when they see us walking the kids to school together. I don’t care what other parents would whisper about if they saw me kissing the teacher before the parent-teacher meeting. And I definitely don’t care about who you used to be with - even if we go to the same meetings.”
You let out a soft chuckle at his words, your hands falling to his shoulders. Even if he was joking, his words comforted you - so did his gentle hands on your waist. Your shoulders relaxed, and no more tears were threatening to spill onto your cheeks.
“Are we clear?” He asked.
“Yes.” You nodded, giving him a big smile.
“Good.” He pulled you in a little closer. “... can I kiss you again?”
“Please do.” Your whisper was almost inaudible. You barely got the words out before his lips were on yours again. The warmth from his hands on your waist burned through your clothes, leaving your skin tingling. His hands moved slowly around your body as if he desperately needed it to last as long as it could. Your chest was pressed against his now, your arms lying on his shoulders and your hands in his hair. His long, romantic kiss turned into short, sweet pecks along the corner of your mouth and down to your jaw.
“Gyu-” You tried to interrupt him, but it was useless.
Mingyu continued his attack on the rest of your face, giddily kissing whatever surface of your face he could reach. Laughter, like silver bells, echoed in your small kitchen, a place that’s been previously filled with anxious mumbles about the man who was now in front of you. He paused, looking into your eyes, giving you a smile that you recognized easily as his mischievous and flirty grin. He bent down slightly, gripping the backs of your thighs as he muttered, “Jump”. You did as he said, wrapping your legs around him as he lifted you up - you put your head in the crook of his neck. Without worrying about it, you let him carry you over to wherever he wanted to take you. The woody scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you tried to bury your nose deeper into the soft skin of his neck - Mingyu let out a chuckle at the tickling feeling.
“I’ve been thinking about getting you all to myself ever since I made you breakfast last Monday,” he admitted.
“You have me now,” you murmured.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You lifted up your head from his neck, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “Bedroom?”
Mingyu grinned, taking long steps toward your bedroom door. Before you knew it, he had thrown you on the bed - crawling over to you to finish what he had started. The two of you had been there for what felt like hours. Mingyu’s movements were soft and slow, thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy. You were delirious, wanton moans escaping your lips every other second. Mingyu’s mouth was latched onto your chest, sucking dark marks on your skin. His body was pressed against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him there.
“I’ve missed this…” Mingyu groaned. “I’ve missed you.”
“Gyu…” you whimpered. “Please, just a little faster.” For all this time, Mingyu had kept the pace slow - his excuse was that he needed to take his time with you, which you accepted… for a while. Now, you were suffering - simultaneously overstimulated and not stimulated enough.
“Why won’t you let me take my time?” He pouted.
“I have,” you answered. “I need to cum, Gyu, please- I want you to cum inside me.” Mingyu swore under his breath, his hips stuttering at your words. When he was distracted, you managed to flip the two of you over. Being on top gave you control of the pace, and, despite your burning thighs, you immediately started bouncing on his cock.
“Sweetheart-” He gasped. While the pace had been kept slow earlier, the overstimulation made you sensitive enough to feel your orgasm approaching already from the sudden change of pace. Mingyu felt the same, evident by his stuttering hips and loud whines.
“Cum inside me, Gyu,” you urged him again.
“You’re going to be the death of me…” Mingyu soughed. Mingyu grabbed your hips to thrust up into you. Your head lulled to the side, your limbs growing limp, as a wave of pleasure spread from your core to the rest of your body. His hands gripped your sides harshly, bruising the skin, and kept you pressed against his pelvis as he came inside you. You could hear him say something, but you were lost in your paradise. As you were about to slump over him, Mingyu handled you carefully to lay down on his chest - putting his hands on your back and rubbing patterns into your skin.
“Are you feeling okay, sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear, and you hummed in response. “Do you want me to draw you a bath?”
“No, it’s okay,” you murmured. “Just stay here with me.”
“We should clean up,” he said, and you whined at the thought of having to move. “I’m serious. And you should go to the bathroom.”
“Stop being so responsible…” you groaned.
“Can’t help it.” He sat up, bringing you with him. “I like taking care of you.” Mingyu stood up with much effort, making sure that your legs were wrapped around his waist. He carried you over to the bathroom, despite your constant whining. After cleaning himself up, he left you to your privacy - but not long after, you walked out of the bathroom again to go back to bed. Mingyu was already there, waiting for you under the covers. He pulled the covers to the side, making it easier for you to get in. As he wrapped the covers around you, you snuggled up against his chest. His skin against yours felt like heaven, and you got as close to him as you possibly could.
“Gyu?” You murmured.
“Yes, darling?” He answered with a playful tone.
“Thank you.” Your words floated in the air. Mingyu stayed quiet but wrapped his arms around you a little tighter. He pressed a kiss on the top of your head, his lips lingering there. Your hands went to his back, feeling his muscles under your fingertips - smooth skin, but you could feel knots there, probably caused by stress. You could picture yourself helping him massage out those knots, him laying with his stomach on his bed, you straddling him and gently moving your hands over his back. The fact that you could picture flashes of your future together felt promising. You felt safe in these daydreams.
“For staying,” you added.
“I know,” Mingyu murmured against the top of your head.
“Promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“That if I ever start doubting us again,” you said, “you'll tell me off like you did today.” Mingyu’s chest rumbled with a laugh, and you broke out in a small chuckle at his response.
“I promise,” he said. “Is the sex afterwards included?” You hit his chest with your palm, just lightly, and hid your flustered face against him. Mingyu only kept laughing, clearly enjoying your embarrassed state.
“Shut up,” you muttered.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
A year later, you’re teaching your last class of the day when the bell rings. The students pack up their things as you remind them of next week’s homework. Soon enough, you’ve picked up your things and are walking down the hallway to Mr. Hong’s classroom. The doors opened, and the many kids ran past you to get out to the courtyard where they could meet their caretakers - Fridays were always hectic. You spotted Joshua in the classroom, and he gave you a smile and a wave.
“Are they here?” you asked as you walked inside.
“We’re here!” the twins shout happily.
“They did exceptionally well today!” Joshua praised. “Ari’s figured out multiplications, and Jiu’s reading gets better every day.”
“I’m glad to see the two of you working so hard, even when you’re not in my class anymore!” you told the girls before turning back to Joshua. “I hope you have a good weekend, Mr. Hong.”
“Mhm, have fun playing newlyweds with your man,” he teased and went back to a few papers on his desk.
“We’re not even…” You sighed and turned your attention to the girls. “Ready to go home? Pick up your things, let’s go meet your dad!”
Jiu and Ari were running ahead of you as soon as they saw their dad. Mingyu was standing by the gate, talking to another parent who was also picking up their kid. You recognized them from your parent-teacher meeting last year. As soon as Mingyu heard the happy shouts of his daughters, he excused himself from the other parent and crouched down with open arms. The girls ran into his arms, almost making him stumble back in the process. You caught up to them just a few seconds later, giving the other parent a nod before they walked away to their kid.
“How are my princesses doing?” Mingyu asked and kissed their foreheads.
“Good! I finished another book!” Jiu grinned.
“And Mr. Hong said I was good at multiplication!” Ari added.
He congratulated them both before standing up to take a look at you. His smile widened, and he opened his arms for a second time. You walked into his embrace, giving him a short hug. However, as you tried to pull away, he held you a little bit tighter.
“Mingyu, people are staring,” you whispered.
“Let them,” he whispered back. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” You finally managed to pull away, but Mingyu’s hands lingered on your waist - you let them stay there, knowing that he would only start pouting if you tried pulling them off.
“You saw me this morning,” you reminded him.
“For way too short of a time,” he added.
“Darling, you almost made us late.”
“Details…” Mingyu scoffed and turned his head away from you. When he glanced at you through the corner of his eyes, he got to see your bright smile. Proud of his achievement, he grinned as he turned his face toward you again. Before you could tell him to go get the girls’ names crossed off the list, he stole a kiss from you.
“Gyu-”
“Go tell the teacher that I’ve picked the girls up, I know.” His smile was contagious. “Just needed to tell you that you look beautiful today, Mrs. Kim.”
“I’m not Mrs. Kim yet,” you remind him.
“You’ve been Mrs. Kim in my mind for a while now, sweetheart,” he argued. “Besides, you’re about to put the last of your furniture in our house, and my kids call you mom. The papers are nothing but a formality at this point.”
“Fair enough,” you murmured. He took your left hand in his, his thumb grazing over the ring on your ring finger. His hand lingered on yours as he walked to get the pick-up finalized, only letting go when his arms couldn’t stretch any further. The girls followed after him as he walked up to the teacher with the name list, standing in the middle of the courtyard. As soon as it was done, Mingyu grabbed the girls’ hands and led them back to you.
“Ready to go home?” he asked, unaware of the fact that you were already home as soon as you had seen him. You nodded, taking the lead toward the gate. Mingyu was still holding the girls’ hands, so you opened the gate for them and watched them walk out. A few kids said goodbye to you, and you took some time to wish them a good weekend. When you turned back to your small family, they had already gotten to the car. He had parked close to the school, so it wasn’t very far, and you quickly jogged up to them. Mingyu had managed to get the girls into the car seats by himself, closing the car doors just as you arrived.
“You’re always so busy,” Mingyu joked.
“Says you,” you countered and went to fix his crooked tie. “You took the weekend off, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. “Ready to serve.”
“It’s just invitations, Gyu.”
“You say that now…” Mingyu opened the car door for you, putting his hand on the edge of the entrance to make sure you didn’t hit your head. When you had sat down, he carefully closed the door behind you and walked around to the other side of the car.
“You’re the one who agreed to help me,” you argued.
“And I won’t complain,” Mingyu said as he sat down in the driver’s seat. “Promise.”
You looked over at him as he buckled his seatbelt. His tedious behavior was enough to make you frown at him. Mingyu looked at you as he started the car. He gave you a charming smile - a classic Kim Mingyu distraction. It worked, as it always did. You sighed and turned back to the girls.
“Are you two okay back there?” you asked, and the two of them nodded before going back to their whispering. As Mingyu backed out of the parking space, you turned to sit normally in your seat. Mingyu put his hand on your leg as soon as the car was on the road. The warmth from his palm radiated through your clothes. You put your hand on top of his.
“I don’t think making invitations will be very fun,” he said, “but I’ll enjoy spending time with you.”
“Just don’t try to distract me,” you warned as you intertwined your fingers with his.
“No promises.” He looked over at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes. You scoffed and looked out the window. Your hand was still holding his - he brought the back of your hand to his lips, leaving a chaste kiss there. A smile crept up on your lips as Mingyu put your hand back down.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I love you too.”
#svthub#kvanity#svt#seventeen#kpop fanfiction#kpop fanfic#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#mingyu#smut#kpop smut#fluff#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu fanfic#mingyu seventeen#kim mingyu#mingyu smut#mingyu fluff#mingyu imagines#mingyu scenarios#bee buzzed εїз✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
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i can't quit you, baby (70s!steve harrington x fem!reader)
summary: steve doesn't like the thought of you spending time with another man while he's gone. but doesn't steve know?—he's the only man for you.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ rolly's roller wheels
✶ blurbs
✶ the only living boy in indiana
tags: smoking but in such a sexy way, jealous steve, fluff, smut-ish at the end, just something short and sweet. ignore that it changes tense like halfway through, I simply cannot edit right now.
for thea ⭐️ thought 70s!steve deserved a little love. hope you enjoy! thank you for supporting me <3
wc: 1,204
august 1978
The windows are open when Steve gets home, letting in sticky summer air and blaring horns from the street below. Your new apartment was two stories above a busy Indianapolis street, and with that came all the city noises that you still struggled to sleep through four months post-move. And without sleep, you became restless.
Without Steve, you became restless. And a combination of both—after busy work days for Steve that kept him from dinner and bed—you were absolutely insatiable.
"Sweetheart?" Steve calls, dropping his keys on the coffee table on his way to the kitchen. "Where are you—oof!"
You throw yourself into his arms, knocking him off kilter until he braces himself on the wall. He envelops you once he registers the assault, chuckling into your neck.
"Hey, honey. Missed me?"
You sigh contently, rubbing your cheek on his cologne-and-sweat-scented chest. "Mhmmm."
"Well gimme a kiss then, sugar."
You giggled on your journey toward his mouth, kissing it with eager tongue and a little whine. You're barely five seconds in before Steve furrows his brows and pulls away, nudging you back by the waist. Eyes fluttering open, you frown at him and try to tug him close.
"Why do you taste like that?"
You laugh again. "What?"
Steve narrows his eyes. "Whose cigarettes have you been smoking? Huh? They're not mine."
Cheeks warm, you wriggle out of Steve's grasp and pluck the rag you were dusting with from the counter. "What? I haven't been—"
"C'mere. C'mere, sweetheart, who've you been smokin' with?"
Steve follows you, and you giggle through the scampering cat-and-mouse chase around the living room.
"Steve, I haven't—no, no!"
He catches you when you attempt to leap over the coffee table, one strong arm anchored around your waist. He pulls you down, sweeping you to his side and spinning you around until you're giggling and batting at his hands.
Steve decides to spare you and sets you on your feet, waiting until you've caught your breath and your cheeks stop hurting before tugging you close by the chin. He kisses you again, firmer and with writhing tongue.
When he pops away, he shakes his head and huffs. "I fuckin' knew it—Camels. Whose fuckin' Camels have you been smokin'?"
"What?" You place your fingers on your lips again. "How can you even tell that?"
Steve wags a finger in your face. "I know my smokes, honey, and you're avoiding the question."
Sighing, you retrieve the rag from where it fell on the floor and take it to the end table to dust under the magazines.
"I was hanging out with Dalton earlier. We had a smoke on the roof."
Steve's hands find his hips, eyes following your ministrations throughout the room. "Oh, you 'hung out?' You just hung out with some dude while I was at work?"
“Not some ‘dude,’” you argue, eyes rolling into the lamp shade that you readjust. “He’s one of the only neighbors that’s introduced himself, and that’s actually been nice.”
Steve tips his chin down, eyes slanting to a glare. “Yeah, because he wants to get in your pants.”
“I resent that, Steve Harrington—and why would you think sharing a cigarette with him would mean anything?”
Your boyfriend mutters under his breath, and when you turn with a quirked and accusative brow, he grumbles and turns on his heel. He stomps into the kitchen, where you hear the rattle of the refrigerator and the hiss of a beer can opening soon after.
“I don’t like that you’re here hangin’ out with random guys while I’m gone,” he calls through the wall.
“Excuse me, what year are we living in? We didn’t move to the city so I could be the little woman, Steve—“
“I never said that!”
Your bare feet pad into the room, where it’s your turn to pop your hand on your hip and glare at him.
“It was implied.”
Sometimes, it was hard to remember the days when Steve was just your best friend. The best friend that teased and ridiculed you, and the best friend you teased and ridiculed back. Until moments like this when it all came flooding back. When you fixed him with an attitude and a fiery stare akin only to when he forgot to pick you up from school in the snow, or said something stupid and out of line when you were eighteen years old.
You were grown now, but he didn’t seem any smarter.
Steve’s tongue clicks on the roof of his mouth, sweetened with his first sip of Miller Lite. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to imply that, sweetheart. I just…—it just makes me….—I just feel—“
“Jealous?”
Steve lifts his hand in an empty gesture. It smacks down onto his thigh when he drops it, shoulders shrugging shortly after.
“Yeah! Yeah, maybe I am.”
Your glare coils into a cocky smirk, teeth digging into your lip. You drop your hand from your hip and step his way.
"Aw, Stevie," you coo, words dripping with mockery. "How cute—"
"Psh," he scoffs, head turning when you come to brace it with your hands. "Yeah, yeah."
"You're jealous of the neighbor? That's sweet, Steve, really."
He tips his head back to the ceiling and shakes it. "Jesus, you're not gonna let this go."
You take the new position as an invitation to press your mouth against his neck. He swallows under your touch, fingers curling tighter around the countertop behind him. Your teeth scrape the soft and musky flesh of his throat, giggling when he shivers. You press a firm, open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, under his ear, down the column of his throat, over his collarbone at the top of a tight navy t-shirt. He's so full and muscular these days, and you can't help but run your hands over the broadness of his pecs.
Steve's hands fall to your ass, sliding into the back pocket of your jeans. You squeak, squished up against his front when he tugs you in.
"Only want you smoking my cigarettes," Steve demands, voice hoarse with arousal.
You guide your mouth back up to his ear, kissing the shell of it delicately. "Okay, honey."
"Promise?"
You pull back enough to meet his eye, and flash him a smile. "Promise. Now, you gonna show me how jealous you are, or what?"
Steve chuckles, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. "Go grab my smokes for me first. By the door, hmm? Wanna see how pretty your lips look wrapped around one."
You pause. It's your turn to swallow, cheeks warm as you stumble back. Steve's grin is salacious and sideways, head tipping to nudge the other way.
"Go on, baby."
Steve steals the Winston from your mouth just as you're climbing into his lap, deciding you look prettier without it. But before the smoke can leave your mouth, he grabs a fistful of your hair at the back of your head and seals his lips over yours. He steals it from your lungs, sitting back against the headboard with a grin when you whimper.
"Tastes much better than Camels," he muses.
And watching Steve leisurely smoke a Winston is all the encouragement you need to keep bouncing in his lap.
#rolly!#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#70s!steve harrington#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you
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[[and then I met you || ch. 20]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
chapter masterlist
Words: 4.3k
ao3 link
Pain radiates through your body as you begin to regain consciousness. There are two points that are throbbing and parts of you want to slip back down into the darkness until the aches are gone, but the rest of your body doesn’t like that plan.
Slowly, the switches in your mind are flipped to ‘on’ and you become more aware of what is happening around you. There are two people talking near you - a man and a woman whose words you cannot yet process, but the deeper voice sounds so very familiar and comforting. It takes a few moments or hours - you cannot tell - for you to give a name to who is speaking, but when you finally figure it out, your mouth speaks his name.
“Matt…?”
Your name is said, then something is touching your face. Your instinct tells you to pull away, so you try to, but there is a gentle pressure keeping you in place.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s just me, sweetheart. It’s just me.”
Forcing your eyes open takes a few tries and you have to blink multiple times to get anything into focus. Slowly, Matt’s face forms in your vision, looking so, so haggard. His hair is fluffed up like he’s been messing with it and he’s got a frown that is so out of place on him. He should be smiling or laughing. That is how you always picture him in your mind - warm and happy.
You realize it is his hand that is cupped along your jaw and press into it, letting your eyes close again. His thumb begins to rub along your cheek and you want to melt into it and allow yourself to drift back into the nothingness where there is no pain. Matt, however, has other ideas.
“I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”
You do not want to do that, but since he is asking, your eyes open again. Your brain feels like sludge, but it is your knees that are screaming at you to not move.
You are startled into being more aware of your surroundings when a feminine voice speaks from above you.
“Matt, you need to move if you want me to do anything.”
He seems to hesitate, his face screwing up into something clearly unhappy before he finally pulls away from you. He doesn’t go far, though, stepping only a foot away. Only once your vision isn’t filled with a handsome-exhausted lawyer do you process that you are laying on your couch. You have no idea what is going on, why you are in pain, or how you got to this position, but part of you feels at ease because Matt is there with you.
You trust he won't let things go badly for you.
A beautiful, but tired, woman steps into your view, a pen light ready in her hand. She has an air of authority about her that has you not questioning why she is in your living room.
“My name is Claire, I’m a nurse,” she tells you and you introduce yourself. “You passed out. I'm going to check your eyes and ask you a few questions to make sure you don't have a concussion.”
“Okay.” You don't remember passing out, but it would explain a few things. Your anxiety-people-pleasing mind pushes your confusion down and wanting the examination to be easier for Claire, ask, “Do you want me to sit up?”
“Do you feel like you can?” She counters and you don’t really know the answer, so you try. Your head throbs as you do and your knees are not happy about bending, but you get yourself into sitting. More pieces are added to the puzzle of what is going on, but none of them make any sense.
You couldn’t tell before, but Matt is wearing a dark red jumpsuit that reminds you of Captain America’s armor. There had been a news segment where they had brought out a replica to talk about the design and the function and all you can think is Matt somehow got his own copy and customized it. For whatever reason. You certainly don’t know all of his hobbies - it could be a cosplay thing for all you know - or some kink - or both.
You are in no position to judge.
The other puzzle piece is Karen’s boyfriend, sitting at your kitchen table looking at his phone, with your daughter in his lap. She is splayed against him in her bright pink jammies and her sleep headband, and you can only guess how deep into dreamland she is. But why is she out here, being held by a near-stranger, and not in her bed?
You don’t get to ask that question - Claire is back in front of you with her penlight, shining it directly into your eyes. As she does, she fires questions at you.
What is your name? Birthday?
Where are you and who is the current president?
What is twenty divided by four?
You pass the concussion test and are rewarded with two of the biggest ibuprofens you have ever seen. You take them, chasing them down with water from your sticker-decorated water bottle, as Claire tells you what is what.
“You have a decent sized cut on your forehead. It needed three stitches - and those will dissolve on their own, so you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll give you some of these higher milligram pills for the headache you’ll have, but a good night’s rest will have you up on your feet again. Do you need instructions on how to clean the cut?”
You take in the information at face value, still unsure why you are being examined and cared for in your living room as opposed to a hospital. Everyone else seems so sure of what is happening and completely fine with it, so you simply shake your head.
“Um, no, I know how to take care of it.”
“Perfect,” she turns away and begins to pack up a backpack on the coffee table you did not even notice. “If you start getting nauseous, head to the ER. Now,” she turns to stare down Matt, “If my delicate hands are no longer needed, I’m going back to bed so I am well rested for the job I actually get paid for.”
“Thank you, Claire. I appreciate it,” he says in a soft voice, but there is a layer of gravel in it you aren’t used to.
The nurse finishes her packing, then looks to you with a small smile, “it is nice to finally meet you, I’m sorry it was like this. Late night calls have gone down since he told me about you.”
“Nice to meet you?” You say to her as she leaves your apartment, completely unsure of who you just met and what her connection to Matt is.
As you continue you try to comprehend what is going on, Matt moves towards you. He cups your jaw with both hands, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks, “what were you thinking?”
You frown at not only the rougher tone he is using, but the question, “Matt, I don’t know what is going on. I don’t…”
You trail off and finally mentally address what you have been ignoring.
Your hand creeps up to your face and you feel the edges of the band aid covering up the cut on your forehead. How did you even manage to do that? Claire said you passed out - but how? And why? And why are Matt and Frank here?
Did Minnie call them like she did with Foggy when you were sick?
You don’t know those answers, so you switch to things you can figure out. You search your mind, trying to recall what you were doing before you apparently passed out. You remember cleaning the bathroom, then Minnie coming in and throwing up.
As those memories surface, the rest rush you - you took Mouse to the bodega and on the way home, some man attacked you. You remember struggling and fighting then…then there is nothing.
The fear you felt then tickles back into your throat and you can feel tears starting to form.
“We were attacked,” you breathe out and almost instantly, Matt is pulling you to him, wrapping his arms around you and cradling you as the reality of what happened hits you. You cling back, burying your face into the rough material covering his shoulder, and try to not break down.
You’d been slapped a few times - but no one has ever tried to physically hurt you to that extent before. You had never felt so helpless - so useless - before. You hadn’t been able to protect your daughter.
Hands had been around your throat and in your hair and you had flopped around like a fish.
He could have killed you.
He could have killed Minnie.
Matt gently rocks you as you process what happened to you. You try to not cry, but you can’t stop it when some tears do start to fall.
“Why were you out so late?” he asks into your hair and the guilt pools in your belly. You were so stupid to go out.
“Minnie was sick,” you mumble against Matt’s shoulder. “Her stomach was upset, and we didn’t have Pedialyte. We had to go get some.”
You can feel him frowning into your hair and it just makes you feel that much worse about everything.
“It couldn’t have waited until morning?”
“No.”
It’s not you that responds - it's the man across the room you completely forgot about. You lift up your head to look at Frank, confused why he is speaking up for you. Matt partially turns, pulling you along, and angles his head towards the other man.
“No?” He questions, not sounding pleased at all that someone else is chiming in.
“No,” Frank repeats firmly. “That’s bein’ a parent, Red. Your kid needs something in the middle of the night, you go out and get it. That’s how it is - there ain’t no waiting until morning when they are sick. That’s how they get dehydrated. She didn’t do anything different than any other mother in the city.”
Matt’s lip twitches and you have the feeling he is trying to not scowl or snap. You can tell he is just worried and upset over what happened, but you’d never seen him like this before.
But Frank is right - there was no scenario in which you did not go to get Minnie what she needed when she was sick.
You look to your baby, and you need her in your arms. You pull away from Matt, wiping at your eyes as you do, and make your way to your small dining room. You feel more than see Matt follow you - practically becoming your shadow until you are in front of Frank. Once you stop walking, he is against you again, his chest to your back and his hand on your hip.
Your daughter is dead weight as she is passed to you and you cradle her to your chest, giving her hair a kiss before asking, “Is she okay?”
“She’s okay,” Frank assures, and you feel like he is speaking to both you and Matt. “Probably going to have some nightmares and be clingy, but you’ve got one brave and smart little girl.” You smile a bit at the praise, because you like to think the same thing about Mouse - brave and smart - your perfect little angel.
“Gave her some of that Pedialyte,” he adds, “and she drank it all, so hoping whatever made her sick will be gone.”
“Thank you,” you mumble. You feel like he is a father and that is why Minnie seems comfortable with him, but he has an air about him that makes you not want to ask.
You rock your daughter in your arms, feeling so grateful that she doesn’t have a scratch on her. You have no idea what you would have done if she had been hurt in any way.
You can feel yourself starting to calm - your tears are slowing as you accept and process things and part of you just wants to curl up in bed with your family and sleep for twelve hours.
Unfortunately, that is not in the cards for you.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Matt’s head jerk towards the main door, and you can’t help but tense up. His vibe since you have woken up has been on edge and you're surprised he hasn’t snapped or something, yet. He pulls away from you to stalk towards the hallway and you hold Minnie just a bit closer to you, unsure what he could have heard.
He swings the door open and there is a woman with thick jet black hair and bored looking expression. She pushes past Matt without care and enters into your apartment.
“Don’t ever ask me to do that again.”
“What happened?” Matt asks.
“Well, he’s not dead, but he won’t be waking up anytime soon. I even got you a report number, so you can follow up,” the woman says, and you realize they are talking about the man who attacked you. That makes your heart start beating a little harder and your mouth feel dry.
“Did they say where they were taking him?”
You tune out of the conversation and instead focus on holding Minnie. You press your lips to her hair and avert your eyes away from Matt and the woman. You look briefly to Frank, who is back on his phone, then let your eyes wander elsewhere. Minnie’s sippy cup is sitting on the dining table, so you decide you can at least clean that up.
As you move around the table, something else catches your attention.
There’s a large black bullet proof vest sitting on one of the dining chairs, with a distinctive looking skull spray painted on it.
You’ve seen that skull before - it’s a common thing to see spray painted on a wall or post box around Manhattan. It’s a symbol everyone in the city knows just as well as Spider-man’s emblem or Captain America’s shield - it’s the Punisher’s logo.
The Punisher - whose real name is Frank Castle, who, if you recall correctly, looks strikingly similar to the man sitting at your dining table.
For some reason you do not understand, you do not panic. You simply stare at the vest, all the connections flying around in your brain, and mentally go ‘Well, that makes sense.’
The Punisher is here because he was with Matt.
Matt’s dark red jumpsuit isn’t a cosplay or a kink thing - it’s armor.
It’s armor because he is Daredevil - the protector of Hell’s Kitchen.
Matt is Daredevil.
Daredevil is Minnie’s Dad.
That’s why he sometimes has bruises and cuts you don’t ask about. That’s why his knuckles are scarred.
That’s why he is in your apartment tonight - Daredevil stops people from being mugged.
You were being mugged and he came and rescued you. He called his Superhero Doctor to come make sure you were okay so you wouldn’t have to go to the hospital and explain how a blind man stopped the attack.
“You okay?”
You look to Frank, and you expect to see blood and guns and mayhem, but all you see is the man who brought you soup. You see Matt’s friend and Karen’s boyfriend - who are two of the kindest people you have ever met in your life. They have treated you better than anyone ever has in your life. They care about you.
You flash back to your very first encounter with Frank and you recall how you were scared of him, but Minnie wasn’t. Minnie - who is unsure about everyone new. You trusted her instincts even before you knew about her gifts - you’d once heard you can tell a person’s intentions by how toddlers and dogs react to them, and you’ve always found it to be true.
So, you decide to trust Minnie as well as your initial reaction - it may possibly be because of a concussion but you would actually like to sit and think about what you just learned rather than react blindly.
“I’m okay,” you say slowly, sticking with how you feel in that exact moment, and not how your night is going. “I think I’m going to go lay her down.” You hesitate, then decide you still need to be a good host, since this is your apartment, ask, “Would you like anything to drink?”
“No, thank you, ma’am,” he says, his lips turning up into a small smile. “Think it’s time for me to head out - leave you and Red to have a talk.”
Your cheeks heat up and you know he knows you have figured out who he is. You hold Minnie even tighter and look down to your feet, your anxiety over being perceived starting to spike.
But you know better than to be rude and Frank has always been kind to you and Mouse.
“Thank you, Frank. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”
You do not flee, but you do walk a little faster than normal to carry Minnie to bed. You oh so carefully place her down and tuck her in, making sure Pig is right there with her. Scooby must be out in the living room, and you’ll need to grab him when you finally are able to lay down.
You stare down at your daughter, who is sleeping so peacefully, and let everything wash over you again. You cover your mouth to try to repress a sob, but you know it doesn’t matter - Matt will still hear it.
Everything is changing so much and so fast and you don’t know how to deal with it.
First, you finally find Minnie’s father, then you find out he has super senses and your daughter inherited them, and now you learn he is a superhero.
You don’t know how to even begin to process this development. There is no guide for this and you aren’t even sure how you even feel.
You can’t be angry at Matt - you don’t know how he got into crime fighting, but you know how passionate he is about being a lawyer and helping people. You know he loves Hell’s Kitchen deeply and you can’t imagine having to hear every little crime that goes on.
You don’t know much about Daredevil. You know he sticks to Hell’s Kitchen and he’s made the area safer. He stops muggings and break-ins, and he’s cleared out various gangs. You know the community likes him for the most part - there is actually a mural of him in an alleyway near the diner.
But what does it mean for you and Minnie?
How does Matt being Daredevil work with him being a father? If you look back over the last few weeks, you haven’t really noticed anything off.
But what if he gets into a fight he can’t handle?
Or some bad guy learns who he is and comes after Minnie to get to him? You know that happens to politicians and cops and such, so it would be no different for a vigilante.
What secrets will you need to keep?
Do you need to learn more than basic first aid - like how to stitch someone up?
How will you explain this to Minnie?
Does he know Spider-man? Captain America?
Does he kill?
There are so many questions ping-ponging around in your mind you don’t notice when Matt enters the bedroom.
He comes up behind you and says your name in a soft voice before wrapping his arms around your waist. He holds you to his chest, chin dropping over your shoulder, and to your surprise, you find yourself leaning into his hold.
“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he tells you and you close your eyes at his words, letting his voice wash over you and corral your thoughts into something quiet. “I had a plan to tell you - to explain everything. I swore to myself I wasn’t going to hide anything from you.”
You believe him.
You wish you would have known sooner, but you also understand why he didn’t tell you. It’s not just something you tell someone, and Matt has proven that his intentions have always been good.
“Am I going to get another binder?” you ask, sniffling a little as you do to stop more tears from coming.
“If you want one, I’ll make you one,” he instantly replies, “just please don’t take Minnie away. I beg of you.”
You can hear the fear and pain in his voice, and you know exactly how he feels. You remember how scared you were that he would take Minnie away.
You turn in his arms - looping yours around his middle and resting your forehead on his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t do that. Not unless she is put into danger.”
“I would never.”
Again, you believe him.
His arms tighten around you until you're snuggly pressed into him and you can feel armor and buckles pressing against you. You squeeze him back, needing the comfort and needing something to ground you.
You need to feel safe.
Matt makes you feel safe. He made you feel safe before you knew what he did in the night and now it’s just amplified.
“Did you stop him?” You ask in a whisper. “The man who attacked us?”
“I did,” he responds. “I’ll stop anyone who dares to try to hurt my family.”
You shakily nod against him, then ask the question you fear, “Did…did she see?”
He doesn’t respond right away, but when he does, the guilt is palpable, “No. Frank made sure she didn’t see anything.”
That eases your anxiety a fraction. You will need to talk with Minnie about what happened, and you already fear that conversation. She has never seen anything so violent before and you are surprised she isn’t already having bad dreams. You have no idea how she’s going to react in the morning.
You have no idea how you will react in the morning.
You press your face into the crook of Matt’s neck, where there’s some type of rough black fabric. He begins to rub his hand up and down your back - you don’t think it will be soothing, but you don’t want him to stop.
You want him to stay and hold you.
You want him to keep you safe.
So, you tell him.
“Stay the night,” you mumble against him, and he nods into your hair.
Neither of you move to pull away - you stay holding each other in front of your daughter and you wonder if he needs the comfort as much as you do.
It feels like time crawls by and your knees, which you must have banged up in the attack, start to make it known that you need to stop standing. Matt must sense something, as he nuzzles into your hair and whispers, “We can talk more in the morning. Let's get you to bed.”
You hum in agreement, then slowly bring your arms around to Matt’s front so you can place your hands on his chest, “I need to change. I’ll grab you some sweatpants and a shirt.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
It still takes you a minute to finally step away and when you do, his hands drop from you. As you go to dig for clean sleep clothes, Matt begins to undress. You try to not turn to look - you are curious about how the suit is put together and how he gets in and out. You didn’t see any zippers or other clasps, but you suppose he wouldn’t want those out in the open if he’s fighting someone.
You find two sets of sweats, one large enough for Matt. You hesitate to start changing, but then remind yourself that not only is he blind, but you’ve slept together, so you have no reason to be shy. So, you strip and pull on your new pajamas.
Matt is still working on his boots when you turn back around, so you set his clothes on the bed. You remember then you are missing a member of the sleep squad.
“Do you know where Scooby is?”
To his credit, Matt doesn’t look confused. You wait patiently as he uses his abilities, then smile when he tells you the toy is under the coffee table. You go to fetch him, and finally drop Minnie’s sippy cup in the sink, and when you return, Matt has finished changing.
You hold out Scooby to him with a small smile, “Do you want to tuck him in?”
Matt’s solemn face lights up and he takes the dog. You watch, with a strange lightness coming over your heart, as he places Scooby beside Pig. He places the tenderest of kisses to your daughter’s temple, and you can see him move his lips, but are unsure what he actually says.
You let him have his moment before taking his hand and tugging him towards your bed. He won’t be sleeping on the couch tonight and both of you know it. You lay down first, then he does, stretching out on his back.
“Come here,” he breathes, and you obey. You roll so you can curl into his side, resting your head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest. His arm wraps around you and you feel Safe.
Your body and mind feel so heavy as you close your eyes, and you hope you can sleep as peacefully as Minnie.
The two of you lay in silence and when you finally succumb to your exhaustion, as the darkness takes you, you once again hear Matt’s soft voice.
“I love you.”
-
AN: Its not mentioned bc Reader missed it but it is very important to me that everyone know Jess brought Matt his gloves as well.
Also new header :3C
-
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🥂 the f1 boys... after an arguement
MEET THE CAST. CL 16 ◦ CS 55 ◦ LN 4 ◦ MV 1
VIDEO DESC. hey guys ! welcome to the start of what i hope to be a long series. i would love for you guys to request something you would like to see, so don't be shy to leave something in my inbox. also please let me know if the graphic above is good, since i would like to continue it for the series
SHOUT OUTS. [@vroomvroomcircuit, @disneyprincemuke, @verstappen-cult, @starkwlkr, @sailing-with-100-ships, @foreveralbon, @lorarri], IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE SEND IN AN ASK, AND MUTUALS LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE REMOVED ON PRIV !
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ CHARLES LECLERC 16
" you're being ridiculous ! " Charles shouts, slamming his hands down on the marble and startling you with the loud echo of his palms against the counter.
" me ? " you mumur under your breath, leaning towards him on the opposite side of the kitchen island, " i'm the ridiculous one ? you're the one who was getting drooled on by your ex-girlfriend . " you snarled and stomped your feet.
" je ne peux pas, je ne peux pas- je ne peux pas avoir à nouveau cette fucking conversation avec toi . mon Dieu . " [ i can't, i can't- i can't have this fucking conversation with you again. my God] He ran his hand through his hair and watched as you gaped at him, slowly translating the words in your mind .
"of course," throwing your hands up in the air, you move away from the kitchen and rush down towards the foyer, "it's my fault, it cannot possibly be you, who made a goddamn mistake ?"
you collected your purse and keys, the metallic fob jingled obnoxiously against the bowl, "no it can't becau- what are you doing ? " Charles stopped mid sentence, eyes widening .
Squinting your eyes at him you shook the metal in your hand, "out."
"where is out ? je te prie de te le dire ? " [ pray tell thee ]
"anywhere but here, i need time charles." you mumured, itching to reach out and take his hand as you breathed heavily yet the anger that was bubbling up to a boil had settled into a seething magma, already solidifying into scathing stone.
"time ? " he spluttered, latching onto your bag that had just been slung onto your shoulder, "for what ?"
"for the clocks to reset." you sassed, dropping the clutch into his hand, "god. i'll be back."
the sun had begun to set by the time you had pressed in your combination into the keypad and attempted to silently pad into the apartment.
lest to say, that didn't work, because as soon as the door clicked open and the jingle of the lock had ceased, the sound of steps bounding up to you was following shortly after.
"tu es de retour, Dieu merci, tu es de retour." [ you're back, thank god you're back ] Charles hugged you tightly, hands winding around your waist to hold you close, the comfort of your heartbeat in time with his made him slump over you with relief.
you patted his back slowly, smiling inwardly, "yeah, i'm back. i told you i would be." pressing kisses to his neck but stopped short when small droplets began to wet your top.
"charlie," you sighed, pulling away to hold his red face in your hands. he sniffled and kept his gaze down on where his hands gripped your hips. his fingers fiddled with the hem of your clothing as his bottom lip wobbled and fresh tears bubbled at his lashline.
"charles ." you tried again, rubbing your thumbs against his temple, "why are you crying ? " he sniffed again and shook his head slowly, already curling around you again, going against the gentle force you applied on his face.
"pensé que" [ thought that ] he started, taking a stuttering breath, "thought that you wouldn't come back."
Your heart shattered, "why ?" with a burning throat, you blinked quickly and listened patiently.
"i was so mad, you were mad." charles bit his lip, despite the skin already being rosy and swollen, most likely from his growing worry throughout the day, "i wouldn't have blamed you, if you didn't come back. "
"honey ? " you call out, smiling gently when he finally met your eyes despite the pang that coursed through your body when you noticed the harsh red lines that sat stark in his eyes, "i would never leave you. "
"you wouldn't ?"
"no-" you choked back a sob, "no, why would you think that." scolding him, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, trapping him in your embrace, "stupid, stupid french man." you grit out, salty streams dripping down your face.
"you're right. " he laughed wetly, rubbing a large palm down your back when you begin to sob laboriously.
"i love you," you detach from him quickly, pecking his lips, his eyes, each and every individual freckle littered on his nose and cheeks, "i love you so much- even when that bitch is slobbering over your arm."
"chérie" he starts, but presses his lips together when you pause in between your smooches to arch an eyebrow at him, "i love you too."
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ CARLOS SAINZ 55
the sun was beating down on the yacht as the crsytaline blue waves lapped at the pristine white of the boat.
you lay on the sun bed, sunglasses propped up on your head as your eyes twitched, watching as carlos and some random chick were talking on the deck.
it was the days leading up to the monaco grand prix, and since it was easiest to procure a yacht here, the boys thought to host a party, where drinks, dancing and daquiri were a must.
so as the music blasted and almost 20 other people were chatting and moving their bodiees to the music, you were busy seething as the girl ran a hand up carlos' salty, sea water covered bicep.
though you stayed away, book disgarded on your exposed stomach whilst your hands twitched with undisclosed rage at your side.
it was when you noticed that even though your boyfriend glanced down at her fingers, he made no move to push it away, that you decided to get up from your place and saunter towards them.
"-wow you're so strong, it must be so hard to drive an f1 car."
"uhm-"
" hi." you gritted out, lacing your arm with carlos', who stood frozen in his spot, "if you would so kindly, stop humping my boyfriend- i would really appreciate it."
the girl stared at you, mouth opening and closing dumbly.
" you can go do that-" you pointed to the throng of the party, where lando was dj-ing, "over there."
she scoffed and walked away, but not before she winked at the driver on your arm and shot you a dirty glare.
as soon as you were sure that she had left, you slowly turned to carlos, who was already gawking at you, "you have 5 minutes to explain, why and how she felt that she could be doing that to you."
he spluttered, eyes igniting with annoyance, "that was the daughter of one of our biggest sponsors- why would you do that ? mujer loca" [crazy woman]
"i'm the crazy one ?" you asked incredulously, "so i'm meant to watch as you let girls just, what? sex you up?"
"oh come on, you know she wasn't." he rolled his eyes, "and what could i do? if i told her no, she could get me fired."
you crossed your arms at him, "so what you're saying, that no matter what, your job is more important than me and my feelings ?"
" Ay, ¿por qué siempre dices eso? " [ay, why do you always say that ? ] carlos shook his head and held your shoulders, "you need to understand that your feelings are important to me, but so is my career."
you shake your head, "but it's all the time carlos, all the damn time." he tilts his head, large brown eyes conveying his confusion, "it's always, 'we can't go here, its bad for my reputation" or "i'll be back late, the office needs me" . what about when i need you ?"
" i can't go everywhere, it's unsafe, you know that. and i'm not always out late. " he reasons, shrugging.
" no- firstly, it was a cafe, you aren't in danger at a fucking cat cafe. and secondly, name one time this entire month that we ate dinner together."
you wait, wedged foot tapping against the laminated wood beneath your sole. carlos stills for a moment, wracking brain before looking at you again and cringing.
"- see ! "
"- i'm sorry cariño !"
you shake your head pushing away his hands, "not this time- i won't forgive you. i deserve better. "
carlos watches, gobsmacked and panicked when you walk away, already collecting your things as the yacht docks.
the bell to the cafe that you sat in jingles quietly, though you ignore it and continue to pet the sweet, grey cat that purrs in your lap whilst sipping a warm tea.
a shadow forms infront of you, and you look up, eyes widening, "carlos- what are you doing ?"
he pants, bracing his hands on his knees as he doubles over- you instictively reach out and take his hand.
"i-" he keens and pants, "i looked everywhere for you, the apartment, all the shops that you normally go to, landos place, max's place, charles' place. then i remembered that you sent me the link for the directions here." carlos leans down to kiss your head, cradling your face in his palms, "gracias a Dios te encontré". [ thank god i found you. ]
you motion to the seat infront of you, letting the cat that now watched interestedly onto the floor so you could tuck your legs beneath the table, "what do you want ?"
carlos sighs, hanging his head before taking your hand and intertwining your fingers, he rests his forehead on your conjoined hands, "i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. i told fred that- that i don't want to be talking to sponsors, y'know-" he looks up at you, kissing your hand gently, "like that, especially on my down time. and that i won't be staying in the office after 5pm."
you blink at him slowly, tightening your fingers, "oh.. good."
he finds your embarrassed gaze, and locks your eyes together, his caramel pools glistening beneath the sunlight that streamed in through the large windows. your stare softens, "i forgive you carlos." reaching forward, you brush away the hair that had fallen onto his forehead.
"you do ? i had so much grovelling left to do." he mumurs, glancing nervously to his side.
"did you seriously buy me something, already ? it's been-" you check your watch, "-3 hours ?"
"there was a plan in place Niña bonita. " [ pretty girl ] he reaches to his left and places the small black bag infront of you, "open it."
smirking, you begin to reach into the ominous container and retrieve a medium sized velvet box- as you pop it open, you gasp, "oh wow, it's beautiful."
nestled within, was a gold necklace, small diamonds hanging from the last few delicate chain links and in the middle, sat a chili pendant, petite rubies be-dazzling the body of the charm.
"i bought it a few days ago, i was waiting for the perfect moment to give it to you, but this seemed more appropriate." carlos took the jewellery in his hands and gestured for you to come closer.
craning your neck forward, you laugh quietly to yourself as you watch him stuggle with the clasp before grinning victoriously and retracts his hands away from your nape.
you take his face in your hands, "i love you." you declare as you kiss his pouted lips. he holds your wrists that rest against his jaw, running his thumb back and forth against your pulsee before whispering against your mouth,
"i love you more."
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ LANDO NORRIS 4
you stomped up to the door before banging on the wood angrily, "lando norris" you huff, "get out of this room right now."
"what ?" Lando wretched the door open, staring down at you, visibly annoyed.
"it has been 3 hours, since you have even stepped out of this room. now it is the winter break, you cannot possible think i will allow you to train on the sim for this long."
He opened his mouth to retaliate when gratingly familiar voices began to laugh and, "ohh" in the background.
"are you streaming ?" crossing your arms over, you're half tempted to push past his fuming chest and unplug the entire setup.
" so what ? you said i'm on break, i can stream if i want to." his voice began to raise dangerously.
"not when i told you that i cooked dinner," you poked his chest, making him blink, "that it's your favourite-" you poked again, "and especially not when i made that fucking tiramisu which you kept on going on and on about from japan." you push him, hard, before stalking out to the kitchen.
"wait ! " he called out, the sound of him shuffling and the door clicking closed made you grind your teeth when he didn't appear down the hallway.
Already packing up the food and placing it into the fridge carefully, you remained stoic to the fact that he had finally appeared behind you, wringing his hands as he watched you.
"babe ? "
"babe ? "
"bab-" "what."
you turn around on your heel, growling and if he were to open his mouth to say anything, steam would most likely begin to shoot out of your ears.
Lando stared at you, still playing with his fingers, "i wanted to- uhm," he gulped when you crossed over your arms, "say that i'm sorry." he whimpered.
"you're sorry ?"
"yeah."
"so," you guffaw, "i slave over the stove for hours, cooking, whipping, mixing and you think that i'm here to serve you when all you say is a 'sorry' "
"...no ?" he cringed, squeaking when you slithered past him towards the dining table and drag out a chair before taking a seat, "i don't see the big deal."
"you don't see the big deal ? " you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes.
"no."
"no ? " you parrot, holding your face in fear that if your hands were to be free, you would strangle him.
"i really don't ."
Inhaling deeply, you attempt to find your inner peace. for both of your sakes.
"lando, it has been 2 weeks of you being back home. 14 days. 336 hours and god knows how many minutes. and throughout that time, you have not touched me," you put up a finger, "you refuse to kiss me nearly as much as you did when you were out of the continent," another finger, "and someone would think you need glasses because you never seem to be looking at me, ever."
Lando's mouth popped open, eyes darting around your face in search of a viable answer, "I-"
"and lord," you scoff, "when i go to make a romantic dinner, in hopes that you could sustain eye-contact for more than a millisecond. you go and forget that as well." covering your mouth, you dip your head down, avoiding his crumpled expression to sob into your hands.
"Are you crying ? "
"i'm not," you retort, sniffing obnoxiously.
"then what are you doing ?"
" they're called allergies. it's the pollen."
"babe," you feel his once distant presensce come and crouch down to your level, warm palms braced on your knees, "its winter."
"i know," you weep, pressing your forehead into his shoulder.
"i'm sorry my love," he pleads, bumping the crown of his head gently with yours, "im so so sorry, i didn't mean to."
you shake your head pitifully, "yes you did. you think i'm ugly" you blubber.
"no- what ? NO ?" he takes your face in his hands, smooshing your cheeks together, "you're beautiful and the only thing that's ugly is my behaviour, i should've paid more attention to you, and i didn't." Lando kissed you tenderly, fingers brushing your hair away from your wet face, "but don't you dare say that you're anything short of stunning."
"shmokay," you lisp, tongue poking through your puckered lips, "shu hungry ?"
you smile contently when he wipes your cheeks and pecks your closed eyelids, "yeah... but not for food."
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ MAX VERSTAPPEN 1
" come on schat, i said i was sorry." Max tries for what seeemed to be the fiftieth time.
" will sorry bring back the 2 hours i spent outside, looking like an idiot ?" you plant your hands on your hips, staring him down.
Max slaps his head a few times before slowly approaching you, padding his way past the bed, "I have a job, Liefde" he presses his hands together and aims his fingers at you whilst gritting his teeth.
"oh, and i don't ? " you smack his aggitating hands away from your nose, "someone call wallstreet, i've been trading illegally. since apparently, my liscence and MB- fucking - A was for nothing . "
"you being on the phone and playing with money, is different from me driving a deathbox every week. hoe kun je de twee zelfs vergelijken ?" [ how can you even compare the two? ] he eununciates.
You gasp, half tempted to smash your stilleto heel into his poised foot, but decide against it when he follows your gaze and peices together your attack, already shuffling his foot away.
"max- i will not stand here and take this from you. i trade stocks you race jumbo bumper cars."
your voice reaches a new decible as you attempt to get through his thick skull.
"now either you can apologise, or else i'm walking out of the door. because i am done explaining to you how to be a good boyfriend " you point outside the bedroom which you both were currently shouting in.
Max crossed his arms, challenging your threat.
"really ?" you ask, appalled but nonetheless collect your purse from the floor and begin to leave the threshold.
Max hums, catching your eye when you turn around, already pivoting at the corner of the doorway. He shrugs, moving to the bed to sit down and yawn nonchalantly.
You blink a few times before leaning back into the room to snatch up the keys to his pista from the dresser, "fuck you."
and with that, you left the apartment. and max, whose words were beginning to dawn on him.
your feet were beginning to ache with how much you were walking and it was almost 200% confirmed, that blood was begining to pool into the expensive interior.
the sun was starting to set from it's afternoon high point and you watched it whilst continuing on your journey down the sidewalk, already having charged an alarming amount of shopping on max's card, you were nursing a grande cup of the most expensive coffee monaco would offer.
The pista sat 10km away from you, full to the brim with your shopping, so when it began to approach you parrallel on the road, your eyebrows shot up and you were prepared to throw the steaming drink into the drivers window as it rolled down.
"schat- why is there so much shopping in here ? "max asked, guidinng the car dangerously close to the pavement.
"you should know since i charged it to your account. " you clutch your to-go cup to your chest.
Max's eyes widened as he pulled his foot off the accelarator to twist his body back and take in the sheer amount of bags that were pilled into the backseat.
"is there a problem ? " you blink at him innocently, still walking towards what appeared to be the public beach.
he turned back to you, irises huge as saucers before he cleared his throat and shook his head, "nope" his voice cracked, "not at all."
"good" you harumphed, "on my measly sallary, i couldn't afford to buy all of it. thankfully i had your card with me."
Max grimaced at your words, "please just get in, people will think i'm hustling you."
"i hope they do. imagine max verstappen 3X world champion pays for sex ? on the tabloids."
He scoffed and stopped the car, no longer entertaining your trek since your determined trot had morphed into an embarrasing limp and your eyes were starting to water.
"please get into the car, you're in pain."
"no-" you sniffed, wiping your eyes, "no i'm not, my only pain is that my boyfriend doesn't think my job is serious enough or something." you wave a hand over your face, lip wobbling.
You're too busy trying not to sob into your hands to notice that max had parked the car and was currently slamming the door shut to come comfort you, "no, no i do- i think it's serious."
his arms wrap around you as he guides your back again the car, hiding your face into his chest to kiss the crown of your head, "i'm sorry for getting mad and saying those stupid things. it was uncalled for."
you look up at him, chin resting on his shirt, "..and ?"
"and..." he huffs, "i'm sorry for not meeting you at the resturant for lunch and not telling you that i wouldn't be able to make it since my meeting ran over."
you smile at him, giggling under your breath when his hand comes up to wipe your tears away, "my job is super serious, you were mean." you pout.
"yes- i was mean."
biting your lip guility, you take a deep inhale, "and i shouldn't have called your job 'jumbo bumper cars' "
max laughs and kisses your lips softly, "yeah- i think i deserved it."
you grin against his mouth, winding your hands around his neck as he presses you against his chest, hugging you tighter, "yeah you did. but im sorry nonetheless"
#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 blurb#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1blr#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc blurb#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz blurb#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando norris fluff#lando norris blurb#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen blurb#[darlingwrites]
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Wouldn't It Be Funny?
Back again with a longer military tf, Hope you enjoy! - Occam
Curtis and Joseph were bored out of their minds. After growing disenchanted with university life the two were well into a gap year and have been finding progressively less stimulating ways to waste away their time. Without assignments piling up and biweekly mandatory lectures they were firmly adrift as the days of the week blur together. Curtis continues scrolling on his phone while Joseph, phone ever-so-recently dead, tries to think of anything to do while it charges back up.
“Wait! I think my brother left a stash of beer last time he visited!” Curtis looks up and squints at his friend, “the best thing you think we could be doing right now is day drinking alcohol your brother left here months ago?” Joseph makes a motion inviting Curtis to produce a better idea which goes unanswered as he rolls his eyes and gets up to accompany Joseph on this ignoble quest.
Joseph leads Curtis to the hall closet where he had apparently thrown everything his brother, Nick, had left after staying over for a couple weeks. There is some deodorant and other toiletries scattered about although the floor, first and foremost however, what catches Curtis’ eye is an army uniform laying in a heap, in the corner of the closet. There is just something about it. Any time he starts to move his attention away from it another question pops into his mind requiring a deeper inspection of the jacket. He wonders how durable the uniform actually is? It looks as if it's never been worn though he knows that Nick has certainly done some training in it. He simply must have a closer look.
Before he could act on that, the jacket he so craved was chucked at him as Joseph found his bottled quarry underneath. “Score! It’s almost full too, we can have two each and rock, paper, scissors over the last one.” Joseph heads to the kitchen well on his way to some palatable lukewarm beers as he continues to chat busily at Curtis. His roommate doesn’t hear him however as the only thing on his mind is the scratchy jacket in his arms.
He almost blushes looking down and feeling it in his arms, quite a bit heavier than he thought it would be. Surely he should toss it back with the rest of Nick’s things but it’s such a nice jacket. Quite a shame it's gone so long just sitting in their unworn. Maybe he’d just toss it on as a prank. Yeah Joseph would love that, seeing his friend in this massive jacket. His body acts quicker than his mind though, swiftly putting it on, pulling the hem down to straighten it out and pulling the sleeves up so you can just see his hands out the end.
Curtis hears his friend opening bottles in the kitchen and grins as he pictures the look on Joseph’s face as he sees him wearing this. He zips it up and struggles to get wrinkles out of the pockets before the grand reveal. No reason to not try and look legit. For it to really be funny it needs to look good. As soon as the thought that this would be funny enters his mind however he has a sharp headache and groans. No longer able to recall the incongruity of the situation as he steps out to see his friend.
Rounding the corner Curtis quickly starts what is meant to be a comedically poor salute but instead executes one with the precision of a machine. This only heightens the comedy of it all from where Joseph is standing however, halfway through a bottle of beer he chokes and spits up the beer all over the counter. He takes a moment to recover from this waste of beer before looking up once more and laughing so hard he can’t stand up straight.
Curtis in turn clenches his fist hard enough to pop a joint as he feels aggressively defensive. Why is his friend laughing at him. His back tenses with more effort than he has sustained in months, and more strength then he has wielded in a lifetime, as he cannot let this slight go unreciprocated. “What’s so funny, Kid.” Joseph looks up to see Curtis with an expression of rage more genuine than any emotion he had seen of his friend in months. It is immediately met with a flinch and a recoil as Joseph can’t bring himself to his friends’ burning gaze, “Jesus Curtis is everything alright? I thought you were doing a joke?”
A Joke? Curtis’ neck spasms breaking him out of his statuesque posture and upon rubbing a neck more muscular than he thought possible, he remembers, of course he was doing a joke! Why else would he be wearing Nick's Jacket! Smiling as he remembers how good it landed, he heads over to his friend, “Sweet you already opened a bottle for me! What’s the move now, did you want to game?”
Joseph, shell-shocked by this return to spirits, assumes that the whole thing was now some shit joke, hands his friend a beer and heads to set up his PS5, “sure whatever dude, can you get the lights?” Which Curtis quickly does, not noticing his arms definitively stretching much further out of the jacket than they should. Waiting for his friend to finish the setup Curtis paces behind the couch, each step louder than the last as he grows less careful of his footing and he continues to ever so slightly grow into this jacket.
“Can you chill dude?”
“Oh! Sorry did-”
“And why are you still wearing my brother’s jacket!”
“Your brothers-” Curtis pauses to look at the name stitched onto his chest and is also shocked that he’s wearing Nick’s jacket though decidedly not for the same reason that Joseph assumed. “Woah sorry kid? I guess I was cold? Do you want me to throw it back in the closet?”
“Just take it off dude! And stop calling me kid,” puffing as he sits back on the couch and starts to play some game Curtis feels like he should recognize before taking off the jacket and heading to put it in the closet. He scratches at his chin as he tries to work out what feels so off right now. Hanging up Nick’s jacket, sure not to leave any creases, he remembers that he’ll probably need to shave soon so he doesn’t get a mark at the next inspection, his rougher hands feeling around his sharper jaw to check the damage.
Returning to the living room he trips over what he assumes is his own feet but is embarrassed to find; Ah! It’s his jacket! Thank god he let his discipline slack here and not back at base. He picks it up as Joseph turns around hearing the stumble and begins to hurry him back before instead asking, “did you do something with your hair?” To which Curtis tilts his head like a dog before Joseph shouts once more, “Dude! Are you wearing my brother’s socks!?”
“No of course not they would never fit.” He says looking down to see the same army green socks he always wears, not Nick’s. “Well my feet do seem larger than I thought they were.” continuing as he bends down to inspect his feet, Joseph scrambles over to do similarly, though neither notices as they slowly inch even larger across the carpet. Instead Joseph is immediately thrown for a loop hearing a loud groan from his friend as he stands back up. Now almost a head taller than he was before bending down.
“Fuck dude you’re so tall!” Joseph reaches up to put his hands on his friend’s shoulders. Curtis was always taller, a fact Joseph was already none too pleased with, but this was ridiculous. He almost has to strain and as he does finally get his arms up he immediately finds thick traps under his friend’s strained shirt, “Asshole! Have you been working out without me!?”
“Of course not. When would I? Or who would I even-”
“I mean, with recruiters right?” Joseph offers forth without the thought even consciously entering his mind. It made no sense to him but it was true. Suddenly it's as if some form of static fills the minds of both the men, a warm static buzzes through Curtis’ mind and body as he starts to unconsciously put the newly reclaimed uniform back on himself. Joseph experiences something far harsher in his own mind, the static is unbearably cold and punishing. He claws at his head, no longer able to hold two ideas of who Curtis is in his mind. And it is clear which reality is prevailing as Curtis slides his thicker arms into the jacket, flexing to make sure his uniform is fitting just right.
As he begins to zip up the jacket his pecs begin to make themselves well more than apparent. His decidedly larger nipples poking out as the apparently nylon shirt hugs his defined chest and he struggles to get the zipper closed without being uncomfortably tight on his pecs before deciding to just leave it unzipped for now. “Why would I be working with recruiters, lil’ dude?” He looks confused at his friend, or his friend’s little brother? Before smirking and seizing the chance, “If anything you’re the one who should be working with them, gotta be bigger than that to join up with us!” He puts a hand on Joseph’s head messing with his hair, jolting Joseph back to this new reality.
“Curtis! Do you not think something weird is happening here!”
“Oh? Did your brother not tell you I go by Curt?”
“My brother? Fuck dude! It’s his jacket! You’re wearing his jacket again!”
“Ah no lil’ dude this one here is mine, check it!”
Joseph looks at the clear name tag on his chest clear as day with Curt’s last name on it, not noticing as he seamlessly uses Curt’s apparent preferred name. Instead he stares at a symbol over the center of Curt’s chest clearly also different than the one on his brother’s uniform. Curt smirks as he points to it himself, “Impressed kid? I’m already a Private First Class, not too hard to outpace Nick though. I mean love the guy but come on! Show some hustle! We enlisted together for a reason dude!”
Suddenly Joseph feels that this statement was a bridge too far. He feels a pit in his chest as he feels he has just lost something greater than he can understand going to slap the exemplar of a man in front of him, “Snap out of it!” Before even nearing a strike however his wrist is snatched out of the air and held fast above his head. Curt stares daggers into Joseph at this sign of aggression, this challenge. His eyes darken as his stubble grows out even more. Joseph feels Curt’s grip grow even darker watching as the hair on his arms darkens spreading out from the sleeves. He brings in Nick’s little bro closer to his face as his warm, heaving breaths distract Joseph from the pain in his upheld wrist before he lets go and guffaws, “You’ve gotta be quicker than that kid if you want to enlist with us! Where is your brother anyway? ‘S why I came over right?”
Joseph is perplexed as Curt lets him go, also unsure as to why this mammoth of a man is in his living room. They are quickly assuaged as Curt gets a text from Nick. “Oh you need a ride did ya kid? No problem! He just wants you to bring over the jacket he left over here and we’ll head on out.” Curt struggles to shove his feet in his combat shoes before finding himself distracted as the shoes push out to fit his ever larger feet.
Joseph’s mind remains a battlefield but it is clear which side is soon to rout as he heads to the closet where he just wanted to grab some beer. Inside he finds not only his brother's jacket, expertly hung, but a second one that looks almost supernaturally comfortable. He pauses before reaching out, feeling an existential aversion to the jacket hanging in his closet. before there’s a brisk breeze through the house and he shivers. Joseph quickly grabs his brothers and slides into the latter jacket, a tad too big but the world around him feels much warmer now that he has it on.
After suiting up Joseph quickly rushes back to his brother’s friend, quite wanting to make a good impression on the private first class. As he rushes his footsteps quickly grow in volume as his tennis shoes thicken into pristine combat shoes and grow far wider as his feet race to keep up, filling their increased space. Barely avoiding tripping over his now massive feet, he sees that Curt is of course not a private at all but his Corporal, as he freezes and salutes. His biceps straining his sleeves as his stained white shirt begins to slowly make room for the soldier’s expanding muscle. “At ease Joe, Let’s go ahead and head on out.”
Curt leads Joe out to his lifted truck and has him get in before loading a few more things into the bed of his truck. There is a load of clearly dirty towels in the back seat as Curt clearly has an issue bringing in laundry after his workouts. Although he doesn’t make it a habit of driving recruits so it’s not usually an issue. Sitting in the musky cabin does immediately cause issues for Joe however, as he puts the seatbelt on he feels his body start to expand in every direction it can. His pecs push against both his shirt and the seatbelt. He pulls his tight shirt down, straining it to the brim as he feels a sudden itch in his crotch. His hand already down there and finding it impossible to bring his attention anywhere else he sees his bulge push out, almost doubling in size as he scratches his increasingly overgrown pubes. He struggles to cover the impossible to miss bulge forcing his brother’s jacket over his crotch, the added pressure and warmth overwhelms him as Curt notices from outside
Curt watches as his new recruit’s shoulders broaden and his jaw widens. He slightly shifts in his seat, almost gyrating, running the hand not shoved in his pants through his hair, leaving behind a respectable high and tight demanded of any respectable recruit.
Curt slowly opens the door giving the recruit the briefest of chances to at least perform decency. Immediately wrenching the hand from his pants to salute, shouting “Sir!” towards his Corporal, eyes growing deathly serious as he touches a visibly sweat covered hand to his brow. Curt’s eyes glint as he notices the action flung Nick’s jacket off and exposed Joe’s still expanding bulge and unzipped pants. The two feel a hunger starting to grow in their chests as Curt hops into the driver's seat. Adjusting his rear view as he juts up once more in height, his jacket making it apparent to all he is now a sergeant, Curt begins to drive off towards the base.
Curt puts his hand on Joe’s inner thigh, overstimulating the private who roughly clenches his jaw trying to keep it together. He feels pre start to soak through Joe’s fatigues as he starts to rub his thigh. Grunting as he too feels a powerful stirring in his crotch, his cock forcing itself further down his leg. “Wouldn’t want to stop at my place first, would ya’ Joe?” Joe stares at the sergeant ahead of him with a lust deeper than the can understand, and a hunger to grow even larger. Curt chuckles, “gotta release some of this energy before we break the new to Nick anyway.” He turns his car and begins to race towards his apartment on the base.
As the heat in the car begins to fog up the windows the two men could not remember anything besides who they were since joining the army. After an anything but quick fuck, they would get back to work on the base. Curt distracts himself as he commands his troops and Joe gets ready for his promotion ceremony, ready to rub it in his brother’s face that he was already going to be higher ranked. The two follow orders flawlessly as they always have, performing their duties with rigor. The only thing more present on their minds than dedication to their fellow soldiers being the excitement for the next time they are to fuck.
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bbycakes - gojo satoru
gojo x small.fem.reader
Summary: Satoru has to constantly look out for the crazy stunts his girlfriend keeps pulling.
Gojo adored how much he towered over you. From the moment he met you, he knew he had to protect you with all his power. It didn't matter to him how strong of a sorcerer you were and how willing and able you were to fight, he always felt the urge to be your knight in shining armor. It was his way of showing how much he cared, given that he had no idea how he should be showing his love and affection towards you in a more conventional way.
He was obsessed with the way his clothes looked huge on you, how his sweatshirts fit you like dresses and how his t-shirts could reach down to your knees. He observed with a wide grin every morning while he was getting ready to leave for work how your shoes were half the size of his, which was both because of your small feet and his inhumanely large ones.
Sometimes he was annoying about your size difference, he made a habit of resting his arm on the top of your head, which made you look like a child in front of your colleagues, the higher-ups, and even the kids you were trying to teach how to be responsible, talented sorcerers. He also scolded you every time you tried to take on a more challenging mission on your own, lecturing you about the danger you were facing. Sometimes he would treat you like a kid because, in his eyes, you were fragile and small like one. He had to remind himself how strong you actually were, sometimes he forgot you were a semi-grade one sorcerer, a very talented one in his opinion, but it was easy for him to forget when you were the love of his life, his main source of happiness that he wanted to cherish and keep safe until the end of his days.
He didn't actually realize how challenging keeping you safe was until you moved in with him. All the furniture in his home was custom-made to comfortably fit the freakishly tall sorcerer, meaning that all the cabinets were too high up for you, you could barely reach the top of the kitchen counter, you didn't ever try to get your favorite book off the shelves knowing you could never get to it. Gojo loved how you had to rely on him to get your favorite mug for your morning coffee, how you begged him to get a step-stool so that you can cook dinner comfortably, or how you asked him every time if he could hand you the book you wanted to read next. However, he was not always around and you had to improvise, just the way you did your entire life, making the tall sorcerer freak out.
The first time it happens he's in the shower and your dinner needed a little bit of extra spice. Unfortunately, you ran out of chilly power and you had to refill the container with more pepper flakes, which were on the top shelf of your kitchen cabinet, one that you cannot reach even with the help of your stool. So you hop on the top of the kitchen counter, rummaging through the sweets and other spices Satoru showed in there.
"...smells amazing, baby, what's..." he walks into the kitchen with a joyful tone and a wide grin, but he freezes at the sight in front of him "what the hell are you doing?" he quickly runs up to you, putting his large hands on your waist, getting you off the counter and embracing you close to his chest, like a teddy bear. Your legs instantly lock around his torso and your arms are secured around his neck to keep your balance.
"I was trying to get the extra chilly powder, we ran out and I had to refill the container."
"No, pretty girl, you were trying to give me a heart attack." he murmurs, walking closer to the cabinet and getting the spice you were looking for.
"Well it's not my fault you put it so high up that I couldn't reach it." you tell him, poking his pretty nose with your finger, making him scoff, but he still gives you the thing you were trying to fetch yourself and he leaves a loving kiss on your forehead. "Thank you, 'toru."
"Next time you need anything, just tell me baby and I'll get it for you, okay?"
"What if you're not around?"
"I'll teleport, it's fine, I just don't want you getting hurt."
"I'm not a baby, Satoru, you know I'm not going to get hurt. I've been doing this my whole life, I'll be fine."
"I know, I just worry. Now let's eat before the amazing food you cooked gets cold, okay my mochi?" he kisses your temple lovingly and he slowly puts you down on your own feet, observing with doe eyes as you move around the kitchen plating the food.
The next time it happens you're in the bathroom. You just finished your shower and the fog is thick, given how hot you like the water as you clean your sore body. Satoru is still out with his students and you notice that the vent stopped working, the foggy air getting unbearable in the confines of your shared bathroom. However, the windows are narrow and up high on the wall to give you privacy and you cannot reach the handle to open them. So you step onto the edge of the bathtub, leaning a bit to the side on your tiptoes. That's when you feel a huff and you're suddenly falling into the soft mattress of your comfy bed. You yelp out in shock, Satoru's hands holding you tightly as he is panting, his face contorted in shock.
"What was that, baby?! You could have slipped, are you crazy?!"
"I was fine, Satoru. When did you even get home?"
"Just a few minutes ago, I was looking for you, then I figured you were in the shower, so I teleported so that I could join you, but found you on a death quest."
You roll your eyes at him, you were in no danger whatsoever, but you know he thrives on the feeling of being your "savior". He starts tickling you and you shriek from the feeling of his long fingers dancing around on your sides. He also makes you promise him that you're not gonna pull another one of your stunts ever again in return for him stopping his "brutal torturing" - as you call it.
"You're gonna be the death of me, babycakes." he murmurs into your neck, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive skin between your collarbone and shoulder.
However, besides all of his efforts to stop you from doing stupid stunts, it happens again. This time is the worst. You were playing baseball with the kids, your way of making training a bit more enjoyable for the teenagers you were taking care of. Inumaki was the one that batted the ball into a tree and it got stuck between the branches quite high up. You were used to climbing into tall spaces and you volunteered to get the ball so that you could resume the friendly game you were in the middle of. Satoru was in his office, doing paperwork. He was bored out of his mind, so he started swirling around in his seat, looking outside the tall window. He spotted you straight away, on the top of the oak tree, trying to reach something a bit too far away from you. His heart skipped a beat in fear and he teleported instantly, popping up under the tree. His sudden appearance startled you and you slipped, falling down in an instant. Luckily, he was able to catch you and you were not harmed. The kids rushed to your side, asking whether you were okay, but there was no answer. You were still in shock, looking at the black cloth covering your boyfriend's eyes. His stance was stiff and despite not being able to see his whole face, you knew he was seething with anger.
You felt a huff of air and you found yourself in Shoko's office, the young healer barely bothered by your sudden appearance. She must have been used to Satoru showing up at any given moment without warning.
"Can you please check if she's alright, Shoko? She just fell from a tree."
The brunette nodded and as soon as she started examining you Gojo left, slamming the door behind him.
"Gosh, you must have pissed him off really badly. What happened?"
"Well, he keeps babying me every time I crawl up on something so that I can reach shit, last time it happened he made me promise that I wouldn't do it anymore and today I fell off a tree while trying to get a baseball. I don't understand what the big deal is, though, he was there to catch me." you explain and Shoko looks at you unamused.
"What if he wasn't?"
"What?" you ask in confusion.
"What if he wasn't there to catch you?" she asks as she checks your pupils with a light.
"Well...I've been doing this my whole entire life and I've never gotten hurt..."
"You can't bargain like that with Satoru..." she says curtly and you feel slightly offended.
"What's that supposed to mean, Shoko?"
"I'm gonna explain this to you because I know that you are stubborn and you will ruin what you have with that gigantic asshole because of your pride..." she blurts out the words quickly, you have to lean in closer to her so that you can understand what she's saying "Satoru has witnessed a lot of injuries and deaths in his life, that's why he never lets anyone get too close to him, that's why he doesn't get involved with anything or anyone. You will crush him, if anything bad happens to you. You are important to him, I would even say you are his number one priority, if you get hurt he will not forgive himself in this lifetime, because what's it worth being the strongest if you can't protect what you love most?"
It takes a few minutes to process the information you were just given, but as soon as you do a single tear runs down your cheeks and you're up on your feet, running out of the hospital room yelling a "Thank you, Shoko", trying to find your boyfriend. He is sitting in the waiting room, his head buried in his hands, long legs splayed out lazily. You would laugh at his position, that man doesn't know how to sit properly, but you have other worries at the moment. You walk up to him, putting your arms around him, embracing him lightly. It's funny how he is sitting down and nearly the same height as you standing up. He doesn't say a word, even worse, he doesn't reciprocate your embrace.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I know you worry a lot and I shouldn't be pulling stunts like that, knowing it pisses you off. I know I was being reckless, but I promise I will not do it again, I learned from my mistake." you say, leaving kisses on top of his head. You notice how his blindfold is missing, it is hanging from around his neck, his hair messy from running his hands through it too many times in the last 15 minutes.
"You said that already." he mumbles, it is barely audible, but you catch it and your heartbeat speeds up at his dismissive tone.
"What, Satoru?"
"You promised me once that you're not going to pull any of your crazy stunts again, that you would ask for my help." he says and suddenly he pulls back from your embrace, locking his cerulean eyes with yours "How do I know you won't break your promise again?"
His expression is unrecognizable, he's never looked at you like that since you met him. It's somewhat scary and it causes your tears to multiply. You're also flabbergasted by his question, you don't know how to answer it. He's right. You know it, you broke his trust, his reaction is appropriate.
"I'm sorry, Satoru. Please forgive me, I know you don't believe me right now, but I promise I will not do anything dangerous like that again. I love you and I don't want you to worry about me more than you already have to." you sniffle quietly, trying to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, one that Gojo put on you before leaving you with Shoko.
He looks at you, his gaze softening, he always hated when you cried. He wanted to blast everyone and everything away with Hollow Purple that caused you to cry, he never thought he would be the reason one day for your tears. His giant hands lock around your waist, pulling you closer to him in his warm embrace.
"I love you, that's why I need you to be safe at all times." he mumbles.
"I know, baby, I know, I understand now. I will be more careful, I promise, Satoru."
"Okay, I forgive you. BUT..." he says a bit more harshly "You will have to bake me a thousand batches of your rhubarb cookies that I like so much if it happens again."
You laugh at his response, the tension leaving your body as his unbothered, childishly loving persona returns. He kisses your tears away, keeping you close to his chest, his embrace strong and safe.
After that, you never climb another cabinet, the bathtub, or any tree. Every time you need something that you can't quite reach, you call your giant boyfriend to get it for you and he does it with a Cheshire smile, lavishing in the feeling of being helpful and always there for you.
#gojo imagine#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#satoru gojo#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x you#gojo fanfic#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader
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three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life
I am apparently incapable of writing anything short. This has no plot. I think the only warnings are like swearing and innuendo. It is literally just Jamie and the reader being in love. I cannot stress enough how little plot this has. Enjoy.
three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life
It’s one of Richmond’s biggest games. They’re facing Man City on their turf, an away game, and it’s a big deal.
It’s not important in that it really matters to their status in the premier league, but important because it’s Man City. Jamie has thrown himself completely into training, so you rarely see him except to eat dinner and then fall asleep, his arms around your waist as you watch tv, fingers combing through his hair. He’s awake before you are, but as soon as you hear him switch on the bathroom light, you make your way downstairs to make him breakfast. The team nutritionist had a strict diet for him, one modified by Roy to account for all the extra training. You rub sleep from your eyes as you brew a pot of tea, waiting for Jamie to come downstairs.
Arms snake around you as you wait at the stove for the tea.“You don’t have to do this,” Jamie says, kissing your neck. You smile and reach back to him.
“I know,” you reply, “It’s just the only time I really get to see you.”
Jamie pulls away and turns you around. You see that he’s frowning.
“I haven’t been a good boyfriend recently, have I?” he asks.
You smile, lacing your arms around his neck. “Jamie. This is just a part of life. You have a big game, you disappear for a while, I miss you and I adjust. You finish, win or lose, and we’re back. I knew what I was signing up for.”
He puts his hands on your wrists. “Yeah, but, like, we’re supposed to be talking to each other and shit. And I’m so tired all the time that I can’t think of anything to say. I also’ve been a shit listener. Can’t even remember what we talked about yesterday.”
You sigh, move his hands back to your waist, and then reach up to smooth the furrow in his brow.
“Remember when I had all that extra work last month and ended up working 60 hours a week because of everything that had to be done? I was up late every night, and all you did was bring me food and kiss me, then you left me alone. I think the longest we were together was when you let me sit with my legs on your lap for two hours. I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“Yeah but-”
You cut him off: “Jamie. It’s just life right now. It’s not forever. It’s ok.”
He looks like he has more to say, but is interrupted by the kettle whistling. You give him a quick kiss and then point to his breakfast on the counter. You sit on the kitchen island while he eats, with your head on his shoulder until Roy comes.
—
Here’s the thing; no one knows you and Jamie are together. Sure, Roy knows. But Jamie loves Roy. Keeley knows. But Jamie said you’d love Keeley. (You did). Ted and Beard know, but only because they saw you two walking around the Richmond green late, late at night. (What they were doing on the Richmond green that late is beyond you, but hey). It wasn’t long after that that Jamie put a picture of you two up in his locker, so then all of AFC Richmond knew. But you weren’t public public. You had yet to show up in a tabloid or be seen with Jamie at a game or public event. You went to his games, absolutely, but you stayed in the stands, not the box.
He always got you a spot as close to the field as possible, but you would always meet up with Keeley and Rebecca after games to rendezvous somewhere else later.
You don’t mind. It doesn’t feel like Jamie is ashamed of you, especially because the people he cares about know. But you also know that you can handle it, and if he wants to go public and kiss you in the stands after a win, you would be ok with that. (You might be more than ok with that).
But as it is, no one knows about you. He knows where you stand on it, so the ball’s in his court. It’s been a year of this, but you just wonder how long it’s going to last.
—
Finally, finally it’s the week of the game. You had been staying in Manchester with Jamie’s mum, which was absolutely terrifying at first. It was not your first time meeting her, just your first time staying with her without Jamie present. You left a day before the team, so when they arrived Jamie sneaked away to come visit. You are sitting in comfortable silence on his mum’s porch looking up at the night sky, when he turns to you and says, “do you love me?”
You’re taken a little aback. “What kind of question is that?” you say. “Of course I love you.”
Jamie’s forehead is all scrunched up again, like it was that early morning. “What if I fucked my leg so badly I could never play football again?”
You laugh. “Not sure if you’ve noticed babe, but I’m not really a big football person. I’m more of a you person, so I guess there’s some overlap.”
Jamie is still weirdly nervous. “What if I play football till I’m forty, and you barely see me like it’s been? What if I’m always on the road and always training and all we get are dinners and shitty 3am breakfasts?”
He’s removed his arm from your shoulders at this point and you shiver, puffing out a breath into the cold air. He notices without saying a word and drapes his jacket around you.
“Jamie,” you reply slowly, trying to formulate your thoughts, “where is this all coming from? You know I love you. We’ve been together for a year, and this has never been an issue before.” As you’re speaking, you’re seized by a sudden, terrible thought: “Are you breaking up with me?”
The words tumble out so fast, you’re not sure he hears you until he’s looking at you, aghast.
“No, are you breaking up with me?”
“No!” you reply. “But you’re acting all weird, and we’ve been together for an entire year and that’s the longest you’ve dated anyone and I just thought that maybe this was your way of letting me know gently that you’re over me.”
Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest.
Jamie breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh. No. I’m not ending things. I want to be with you forever. I just get all freaked out in me head before games like this, and it’s been fuckin weird coming home, and I just want to win, you know, so that way all this time away is worth it.” He pulls you close to him again and you can feel his heartbeat slowing down to a normal pace, in sync with your own.
You sit there till his mum comes out to remind him that it’s time to go get some rest, and it’s not until you’re half asleep in Jamie’s childhood bed that your mind replays his words:
I want to be with you forever.
—
It’s game day. You send Jamie a quick love you! text and then slip into your Jamie Tartt jersey. It’s from one of his old kits so it’s a little worn, but you always put it into his laundry pile so it comes out of the wash smelling like him. It’s not something anyone would notice, but you know, and it makes you smile. You get to be in the stands and know that Jamie Tartt loves you and you love him, and at the end of the day he’s the one you get to hold. You give yourself a shake, and open your phone to figure out where you’re meeting Keeley.
—
“And Richmond wins, 3-2 with a smashing goal by number 9 himself, Jamie Tartt!”
You’re screaming and jumping in the stands, overwhelmed by the fact that we won, we won, we won! The Richmond team are piling onto each other, Dani on Isaac’s back, Sam and Jan Maas jumping up and down like kids. You lose sight of Jamie in the mix.
“Well Arlo, it looks like Richmond has once again, exceeded all of our low expectations.”
“That’s right Chris, all thanks to Jamie Tartt’s brilliant goal. Looks like he’s having a good time celebrating with the Richmond lads. Wonder what they’ll get up to tonight? But what’s this? It looks like Tartt has broken away from his teammates and is running to the stands! He’s stopped in front of a fan and it looks like he is kissing a very lucky Richmond fan full on the mouth!”
“Have you ever been so caught up in a moment that you’ve made out with a stranger, Arlo?”
“Can’t say that I have, Chris. Can’t say that I have.”
It all happens so fast, that you don’t even know how to process it. One moment you can’t find Jamie and the next he is leaping over the stands, catching you in his arms, and kissing you in front of the whole stadium as if no one else is around. When you finally pull away, breathless, he takes your hand and helps you hop over the wall onto the pitch. Not usually allowed, but you suppose they’ll let it slide for football’s golden boy. AFC Richmond has caught up to Jamie, and you’re all on the field, screaming your heads off out of the sheer joy of winning.
—
“You’re coming tonight, yeah?” Isaac asks you as you wait for Jamie by the team bus. It’s the day after the Man City game, and you’re back in Richmond with a plan to hit the town yet again, as though the night before wasn’t enough for them. (You actually wouldn’t know, because you were in a very nice hotel room with a certain striker).
“Yeah, you know the only reason we invited him anywhere is in the hopes that you’ll finally be able come along,” Colin adds.
Any story of Richmond’s win had a somewhat fuzzy picture attached of Jamie kissing you in the stands with some variation of the title “Tartt’s mystery girl.”
You laugh. “Yes, we’ll be there. It’ll be nice to actually be out and about with you guys. Family dinners are fun, but there’s more to life.”
Once you found out that Jamie’s whole team knew you existed, you made him invite them over for dinner once a month. It’s one of your favorite things, especially because they all bring food to share. When it’s warm you do pool parties and when it’s cold you play bracket uno. It was nice to meet Jamie’s family, whether he’ll admit that’s what they are or not.
“You ready, babe?” Jamie asks as he slings his arm around you.
“BYE TED!” you yell. “Ok. Now I’m ready.”
—
Sam closed his restaurant special for you all, and turned it into like a private club. You say like because it is, at its core, a restaurant. However, under Isaac’s supervision and creative design, he apparently has transformed Ola’s through rearranged furniture, dimmed lighting, and music into a place where AFC Richmond can celebrate their win without feeling crowded by strangers. You’re secretly grateful, because clubs are not really your scene. You’ll get all dressed up, sure, but you never know what to do with yourself once you’re there.
Speaking of getting dressed up, you were feeling yourself. You had a light blue mini dress, with an asymmetrical neckline and a single puffed sleeve. It was more a-line than bodycon, but hey. You like a little bit of a twirl when you spin. Your absolute favorite part though was that you were wearing two-inch silver block heels, with straps around your ankles. The dress plus the shoes made your legs look magical.
You and Jamie are in the bathroom getting ready, you fixing your makeup and him fixing his hair. He half-turns to you and points to his hair with a questioning look. “Lookin’ good,” you smile, and he smiles back.
“Oh, babe,” he says, tweaking his hair one final time, “I left my sunglasses back at the locker room, and I was wonderin’ if you’d be ok getting them with me before we head to the party? I just don’t want Bumbercatch stealing them.”
“Why would Bumbercatch steal them?” you ask.
Jamie shrugs. “Something about ‘no name, fair game.’ That’s how Jan Maas lost his favorite socks.”
You shudder. Why Bumbercatch would want Jan Maas’ dirty old socks, you have no idea. They must be really amazing.
You reply, “Yeah sure, I hate being too early to things anyway,” as Jamie absentmindedly kisses you on the forehead with a “thanks babe,” as he heads downstairs.
—
You don’t live far from the Richmond pitch, so you’re walking across the dark parking lot in no time.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Jamie says.
He’s swinging your hands as you walk. He looks nice, the sleeves of his cream shirt rolled up. Nice pants, nice shoes. Nice ass.
“Yeah, of course,” you say, momentarily distracted by the fact that this man is going to get laid tonight.
“No, I mean you’re always down for what-fuckin-ever, and you just let things bounce off you. And you like me, for my personality for some fucking reason? And I think about you all the time, when I’m gone or when, like, I have early training with Roy. And you make laugh because you stopped being afraid to be yourself around me. I just like you. And I meant what I said the other day, I do want to be with you forever. Not to freak you out or whatever.”
He’s stopped right at the doors and he looks so uncomfortable and earnest in a way that you’ve never seen before.
“I’m not freaked out, Jaim,” you say. “I love you, and you know I’m in it to win it with you. Now, let’s get those sunglasses and for the love of god, please don’t act this weird tonight.”
This elicits a chuckle, and he nods in concession. “Alright. Let’s go.”
The halls are dark and quiet as you walk to the Richmond locker room. It smells clean, for once. Like lavender. There’s a faint glow coming from the doors and Jamie pushes open the doors to the most magical thing you have ever seen.
There are candles on the benches and twinkle lights strung across the lockers. There’s a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the room and as you turn to Jamie, awestuck look on your face, you see him kneeling behind you, small black box in hand.
“Jamie,” you say.
“Yes, love,” he replies.
“What are you doing.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it comes out more wobbly than you’d care to admit.
He cracks a smile. “Eh, I hope it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”
You can feel a fucking tear forming in your eye and you will it to go away. You refuse to have streaky foundation.
“Love of my life,” Jamie begins.
“Yes,” you say.
“Oi, you’ve gotta let me finish.”
“Right, sorry, as you were.” You think your face is going to split in half with the size of your smile.
He takes a breath then continues, “there’s no one else I’d rather have shitty 3am breakfasts with, no one else I’d rather beat at MarioKart, and no one else I’d rather do life with. Will you m-”
He’s cut of by you kissing him like you have never kissed him before. After a moment, he pulls away and asks, “Is that a yes?”
You can’t help it, the furrow in his brow gets you every time so you laugh and reply, “Of course it’s a yes, you dummy!”
Jamie smiles and then yells, “Lads, she said yes!” and the blinds go up from the coaches office as the entire AFC Richmond team storms into the locker room. Dani and Richard are spraying champagne in the air as people hug you and slap Jamie on the back.
You find his hand amid the chaos and squeeze it.
“Can’t believe I were so nervous about this,” he says into your ear.
“Can’t believe you think you beat me at MarioKart,” you respond.
“Oi, we are not getting into this again-”
“There’s only one way to settle this.”
Jamie looks at you, then to all your friends celebrating, then back to you. “Think they’ll even notice we’re gone?”
You shake my head. “Nah,” you say, “let’s get out of here.”
Jamie smiles at me as you slip through six different lynx scents out the door. “You’re going down, Mrs. Tartt.”
“Only one of us is going down tonight, Mr. Tartt, and I can assure you it is not me!”
“You can say that again.” Jamie sticks out his tongue and wiggles his eyebrows at you, and your laughter echoes up into the night sky.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt#ted lasso
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walking around the house in nothing but one of eddie's old t-shirts... knowing that the second he sees you, you're getting bent over the nearest surface.
Well! How could I say no to this??
Warnings: p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks) implied established relationship, dom Eddie x sub fem reader
A/N: this was a good ask, exactly what I like, short and dirty (just like me) Comments and reblogs are what keep the cogs and springs in my steampunk heart oiled ❤️
Masterlist
Humming along to the radio in the warm light of the trailer, you try to be helpful, mixing ingredients in a plastic bowl you'd found in a cupboard. Eddie had left to do a deal and his uncle was away all weekend, so you'd crawled out of bed and decided to whip up some pancakes. He'd mentioned them the night before and left you with a craving so you thought you'd surprise him.
You pad around the kitchen barefoot, only wearing one of Eddie's old Hellfire T shirts, the one he hated since it was too big. It was perfect for you as a makeshift dress, just covering the curve of your butt.
Reaching on tippy toes you examine the top cupboard trying to excavate a frying pan from its depths. Over the sound of the tinny radio and your own clattering you don't notice the opening of the trailer door, or the metallic sound of Eddie's keys falling to the ground in shock.
You cannot help but notice a warm torso against your back and an unmistakable bulge pressing directly against your ass. Jumping with shock, a squeal escapes your lips.
"Jesus Eddie you scared me!"
No words. Just a firm hand gripping you by the hip, the other snaking fingers across your jaw, and a strong body pushing you hard against the counter. Panic grips you for a moment. What if it isn't Eddie?
That is until hot breath winds its way into your ear.
"Baby, look at you. What are you doing?"
You attempt to answer, whilst he grinds his hardness against the fat of your ass cheeks.
"I-I was, I was making pancakes. I was gonna surprise you?" Your words are unsure; he almost sounds mad, belying the urgent gestures of his hips.
"I mean, what are you doing in my shirt? Jesus baby, you look smokin' hot."
You attempt to move but Eddie's holding you still, hand now gripping the nape of your neck whilst the other smooths across your curves and under the hem of his old shirt. As his fingertips ghost across your heat you can't help but back into his feathering touch.
"Fuck, you're not even wearing panties? Well, fuck."
His hand moves away, making you frown, until you hear the unmissable clink of his handcuff belt. Eddie unzips his jeans and pushes them down just far enough to release his cock from its denim confines.
You feel the weeping tip rut against your slickened folds making you jolt.
"Eddie, please." It comes out needy, begging; exactly how he likes it.
"Yeah? You want it? Is that why you're wearing my shirt and nothing else?" You hear the grin in his voice and the wet noise of him spitting into his hand to wrap it around his dick.
When he starts pushing into you a gasp forces its way out of your lungs; air expelling in relief at him entering you.
Eddie gives you no time to adjust. He simply ruts into you animalistically, one hand gripping your hip leaving indents in your skin, the other leaning on the countertop as leverage, allowing him to drive into you as hard as possible.
"You drive me crazy, just walking around in my shirt, and, fuck, nothing else. You fuckin' menace."
"Eddie!" You try to retort but there's no air to breathe, unable to snap back when he's fucking you this brutally.
You feel a deep bubbling in your stomach, a powerful release clamping down on your insides, about to spill. Eddie's thrusts become sloppy and somehow even deeper as you scream your release out into the world, pussy gripping him as if it were afraid to let him go. Eddie cums inside you with a drawn out groan, body flopping over yours on the countertop.
Pressing soft kisses to your temple, he pulls from your heat and stands. You're not so lucky, legs wobbling, nearly giving out from under you like a new-born fowl.
"Woah there, sweetheart" Eddie says as he grasps you firmly by your waist. "You OK?"
Steadying yourself, you turn to face him.
"Hi."
"Hi." He chuckles, peeling a strand of hair out of your face. "You wanna go and clean up and I'll make the pancakes?"
"Sure" You grin, planting a kiss to his chapped lips.
"You wanna hand me that then sweetheart?"
Confusion floods your face, until your eyes follow his, and realise your gripping onto the spatula you had in your hands when he came in. You hand it over, fingers releasing from their death grip.
"That good eh?" Eddie smirks, full of himself.
"Shut up Munson" You hit his arm, but there's no force in it, as you make your way to the bathroom. It was, after all, a hell of a way to wake up.
I only had a tag list for Rumour, so if anyone wants to be on my general Eddie taglist please comment/reblog to say so!
@munson-blurbs @eddiesprincess86
#thanks for the ask#eddie fan fic#eddie munson#eddie fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie x female reader#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie x y/n#eddie smut#eddie x f!reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#eddie x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#stranger things#stranger things smut#stranger things 4#stranger things 4 smut#eddie munson x you#ms gexy writes#eddie munson fanfic#dom eddie munson#dom!eddie munson#dom!eddie#sub!reader
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fuck buddies
pairing: fuckbuddy!yangyang x f!reader x loser!winwin | not threesome
genre: smut wc: 1k
cw: sub!reader, (consensual) angry sex, choking (f), name calling
a/n: @teasteeper and her work made me fall for loser!wayv so this idea came to me all bc of her <3
you’ve always seen winwin as just the loser friend of your fuck buddy yangyang, but surprisingly he turns out to be the one who finally puts you in your place…
yangyang always hangs out with big crowds, throws the best parties and never minds you coming along; he’s extroverted, popular, radiates confidence and winwin, to you, seems to be exactly the opposite. so every time yangyang invites him you wonder why.
one night as you lay under the sheets of yangyang’s bed, you finally bring up the question, wanting to know what exactly keeps them so close. turns out they’re childhood friends and according to yangyang winwin just finds it more difficult to communicate in a bigger circle. he’s not always like that, he says.
“why do you ask?” yangyang turns on his side with lazy motions. your bodies touch once again, sweaty and still overwhelmed from the previous orgasm. he traces a line on your stomach only to sneak his slender fingers into your slickness. he’s already greedy for another round, just like you. “are you thinking of changing your fuck buddy?”
you laugh at his ridiculous comment, but decide to tease him back despite both of you knowing you’d never have a situationship with a guy like his friend.
“can’t i have two?”
yes, winwin has an attractive face and a nice figure; he’s always put together too. but that’s not enough if you ever happen to consider it. you need someone who radiates confidence, lust. someone who smells like sex, and knows how to handle you with a firm confident grip. someone like yangyang.
“you can have twenty if you want, but sweetheart…” yangyang moves his lips away from your marked neck so he can peer into your eyes, “none of them should be a friend of mine.” his fingers pull out of your slick lips and squeeze your jaw, not really satisfied with the playful smile on your face. the corners of his mouth curl up a bit, but his tone is more sharp than light. it rings like a warning. “i’m serious.”
one evening you’re left alone with winwin to prepare snacks for the party while yangyang goes to buy more alcohol before people start arriving at his place. you catch winwin staring at you with expressions you cannot quite understand what they mean; he stands too close to your shoulder as you fill up the bowls and barely keep the small talk alive. in your opinion, winwin can only hold an entertaining conversation with yangyang and no one else.
“i’m not the loser you think i am if you just give me a chance…” he speaks up, taking off his glasses.
you turn to face him, but before you have a chance to respond with anything, he speaks again, this time with bigger assurance.
“i know what you think about me.”
“okay…” you blink at him, capturing the intensity of his gaze which is usually always soft and mellow. “my opinion of you shouldn’t matter to you, we’re not friends,” you reply, and as you try to walk pass him his tall broad figure stops in front of you. “don’t tell me you’re trying to kiss me,” you giggle, leaning back against the kitchen counter.
his dark eyes skim your body up and down that’s wrapped in a tight dress before they stop on your intrigued expression. your face is pretty. sexy. winwin noticed it the first time he saw you; you were in yangyang’s lap when you reached for his hand, stating your name in the seductive voice you so often seem to talk. but it still has that amused look to it that never seems to go away when he’s in your presence. he really wants to erase it from your lips and make you see him in a new light.
“you’re wrong about me,” winwin grunts only for you to grin again.
“prove it.”
so he does. a moment later your body is sprawled over the marble surface as winwin’s cock is all the way inside you; it’s gliding in a rough rapid speed that has you seeing stars by the way it sharply pokes at your cervix. his one palm is glued to your mouth, because this time he wants to do the talking.
“fuckin’ tired of the way you look at me… think you’re too good for me? just because you’re yangyang’s little whore? f-fuck.. ‘been dreaming of this for so long… shuttin’ your filthy mouth up…”
he feels your walls squeezing him tighter as his thrusts echo aggressively one after another in the kitchen. in yangyang’s kitchen. his hand leaves your drooling mouth so it can go around your neck, pulling you closer to gush at your ear.
“so hot… you’re so hot, but you’re driving me mad…”
you whine incoherently about being close; about not wanting him to slow down. the thrill from the possibility of yangyang walking in on you brings you to the edge even quicker. everything feels so… forbidden.
winwin frees your throat and presses your head against the countertop while making the last few slams into you as orgasm takes over every part of your body.
you kneel on the floor with trembling legs and winwin swears he hasn’t felt this good in a really long time; this satisfied and proud of himself. your dazed teary eyes catch sight of his flushed cock getting closer, and they remain open while the warm thick cum spills in your mouth. his heart feels close to bursting when your throat gulps it down as if his cum is something you’re already used to. although he’s still frustrated with you, he cannot help but relish this moment of you watching him innocently from below; with weakness and surprise. it’s electrifying.
both of you quickly come back to your senses after you hear yangyang opening the front door. you didn’t even get the chance to exchange any words about the events that just happened. you run to the bathroom while winwin fixes his jeans and puts his glasses back on.
#wayv smut#wayv hard thoughts#wayv hard hours#winwin smut#winwin hard thoughts#yangyang smut#yangyang hard thoughts#winwin x reader#yangyang x reader#wayv x reader#nct smut#nct hard thoughts#nct x reader
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x. make me yours
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter ten of i like the way you
best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.
warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings/love confessions. smut - p in v, mirror sex, praise (for both) worshipping frankie's cock. happy ending in more than one way.
word count: 4.6k
an: thanks to @thetriumphantpanda for being here every step of the way, holding my hand. to @secretelephanttattoo for the comfort over the last week since i finished and to you, amazing readers, for putting trust in me once again that i could write something. i was so nervous after late night texts i'd never deliver a thing you'd all love, but here we are. thank you.
There’s a calmness to an early morning—especially one where you feel his legs tangled with yours.
Your room splayed in the glow of a new day, it fluttering through the slit of the closed curtains. Just enough for you to know it’s morning, but not enough to convince you that you need to rise.
Especially when he’s beside you.
From the steady, faint way the tips of his fingers seem to trace up and down your arm, you can tell he’s been awake for a while. The world around all so silent, just his breath and yours—the soft thudding of heartbeats and the occasional moving of limbs brushing against your sheets.
It’s enough to soothe you back to slumber, faintly hearing him whisper I’ll be right back, just awake enough to mumble an okay as the mattress dips and your cocoon of warmth begins to cool without him.
All of it perfect, almost picturesque—doing all you cannot to ruin your own delusion or fantasy with thinking about last night.
When you finally move from your sheets, you listen for him. The heavier footsteps, the way he occasionally bumps into the corner of your counter—a thing he’s done ever since you moved here.
But, there’s none.
Not even as you layer on a jumper, or pull on some socks from your bedside drawer—nothing flooding the silence except the water down the drain as you brush your teeth, as you make eyes at the bleary eyes coming back to you in the mirror.
It’s only when you leave the haven of your room, do you see him walking back in through your front door, his keys joining yours in the bowl on your side table—jacket hung beside the other, hat thrown onto the sofa.
And it makes your heart squeeze, makes your chest tighten for a moment. Because this is what you want. This. Him. His things being all messily arranged around yours, your things moving for him. A morning like this, down to the sheepish smile he gives you.
Lifting the paper bag, he begins to grin—all soft, gentle—lines beginning to appear near his eyes as he does. “I got us breakfast.”
Biting your smile, you nod, moving from the doorway to the kitchen—helping. It being all you can focus on, breaking the things down into small tasks, because it’s that or fall apart. It’s that or spill to him a mess of words you’d rehearsed for last night.
Swallowing them, the two of you move instead. All in a fluid motion, grabbing plates, a mug for him and a glass for you. The scrunching of the paper bag is all that can be heard, not the clatter of your hand against the plate as it shakes or the way you keep swallowing back a lump. One which sounds awfully like I don’t want to lose you.
He must know—be able to tell. Always able to read you like you’re the most obvious flight plan laid out for him. Because he nudges you, just ever so slightly:
“We’re okay, alright?”
You’re not sure if it’s the years of being let down by others or the sheer weight of your feelings for him, or the odd combination of both, but it crashes together inside of you, dissolving the lump, making fresh tears rise to your eyes. One falling, unable to cling itself to your lashes—unable to hide it, disguise it, not quick enough in turning before he’s already seen it.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he whispers, all soothingly.
It’s similar in tone to the one he used in the Heli that one time. Close in relation to the voice he used sometimes when he had his hand between your thighs, pleading with you to give him another, because you can do it, hermosa, you can.
Covering your face with your hands, you bite down on your cheek—the tide of pain enough to halt the fallout of tears. The pitter-patter on your cheeks, fingers sliding them down, smoothing them out over your skin as you take a breath, remove your palms, lashes lifting.
His brows are pinched together, one thick line, surrounded by a few others—eyes wide, all brown, glistening in worry and concern.
“I don’t want breakfast.”
Blinking, his eyes move around the room, before landing back on you. “O-okay, that’s—that’s okay—”
“I want you.”
It isn’t anything you like you rehearsed.
Nothing close to the script practised in mirrors and as you chopped, prepared and cooked the dish last night. It’s more an array of balled-up words which hastily leave your lips—chest rising and falling, a pang in your chest.
“I want you—and admittedly I do actually really, really want breakfast. But I want… this, the whole thing, not just the food, the act. I want the morning we began having—I…”
Your voice trails off. Keenly aware that your body has begun to tremble, the enormity of it all rising inside of you like a snake—slithering, clotting, making it hard to breathe without focusing in on it coming up your throat.
“I’m not—this isn’t making much sense. I want mornings like this. I know you saw what I did—and I don’t know if you cleaned it up because you don’t feel the same and that’s your wonderful, gentle way of telling me. And, I’m not sure if you came to fetch me out of some guilt, just like I’m not even sure if you lay with me because you wanted to make sure I wasn’t sad…
“But, Frankie, I like you. I like the way you make me feel lighter and happier, that you don’t even pretend to have all the right words. I like that you show up, that you make me feel…”
His head tilts, eyes fixed on you—unwilling to move.
Captivated. Enchanted.
It makes your skin warm and the nerves seem to settle as you take a settling breath.
Swallowing, you smile. “I like the way you make me smile. That you make me feel good, incredible even. I like you, Frankie. You.”
You watch him roll his lips, gentle movements, brain likely whirring a mile a minute under his curls. Ones you want to run your fingers through—soothe him, comfort him.
But you remain where you’re stood. Feet planted, unwilling to move closer. Not prepared to bend and curl into him, even if everything in you is screaming too.
The fear of him rejecting you keeps you still, braced—waiting and watching, studying each micro-inflexion for an insight into whether sun or rain is going to come and land on your parade.
Then, he whispers your name.
It sounds so jagged—sharp in places it is usually soft. It hits your ears wrong, not matching the look on his face, as a hand reaches inside of your chest and squeezes, while other parts of your crumble.
“Do you… not want to be with me?”
You shouldn’t ask, but you have. It's more pitiful when you replay it back, worsened by the look he gives you. It’s one you assume he’d wear if you’d slapped him. Half-wounded, half-irritated. As though what you had just proposed was the most stupid thing you could ever say.
“Fuck, no. I just—”
“Just, what?”
His jaw slides from side to side, fingers picking at the bread he’d just gone out to fetch. “I just think…
“Think what?”
“That you deserve better, alright?”
Your face falls.
Inch by inch of it shifting, feeling it do so—as though a mist has washed down over you, clinging to your features, dragging them down. From your eyebrows to your upturned lips.
Slowly, you press your spine into the back of your kitchen counter, hand resting on the top of it, not moving, not circling the pattern or tapping against the side.
“Frankie…”
“No, listen. You deserve someone who has their shit together, someone who can take you out—spoil you—give you the life you want. I… I can’t do that. But someone else, someone like—“
“Like Will?”
His chin lifts, his eyes landing on you. Fear and panic eroding away the earlier irritation.
You’re breathing heavily, seething and panting. Adrenaline darts through you, making your back straighten and your fingers want to close into fists.
“Yeah, I know. Surprise, surprise, you don’t need to be military-trained to know that you’re being a dick to him because you’ve created a narrative in your head. Which, by the way, is all that is, because I don’t like Will like that. Never have. He’s… he’s not my type for one.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. I like you.” You chew your cheek, staring at him, sighing. “Frankie, I don’t deserve better.” Trying to blink away tears that begin to spring, feeling them practically stinging. “What is even better than you?”
He shoots you a look, lips rolling, before he pushes a heavy breath out through his nose.
You don’t care if it’s childish, you fold your arms. Anger suddenly crawls up your throat, wanting to throw whatever you can at him.
Narrowing your eyes, you drop your voice, “So, what? You’re good enough to be my best friend, to have a key to my house, to sleep with me—fucking regularly, by the way—but not to put a different label on it?”
He says your name, soft, barely in a breath. Eyes all dark, swarming with things you can’t begin to work out.
And it rises in you again. The feeling from last night.
The matted mess of emotions that rumbled out of you in floods of tears as your glare intensifies, your heart aching as you dig your stare into him with all you have.
“No, Frankie. No. You know I like you. I always have. It’s… it’s always been you. And, I think you know that, just like we both know this hasn’t just been fucking.” Straightening your spine, you take a more measured breath. “So, if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine—but I’d like you to go.”
The latter comes out more shaky—a crack in your resolve. Each syllable all practically broken by the time it hits the air, eyes unwavering in their stare at him, watching, studying. Easily able to spot the slight shift of his jaw, the tick of it to the side, and the way his throat bobs as he contemplates it—whatever he's fighting inside his head.
Then, he takes your hand and moves it from being around your other bicep, unfolding your crossed arms.
It’s simple to take your hand. Easy. A gesture he hopes says more than it does.
From your glare, he’s not sure it does.
So, he takes a moment. Weigh it up, tries to align up the words which will make the most sense, and have the most impact. Holding your fingers in his. Allowing himself to feel the little bones that make it up, the knuckles and the way your hand just instantly fits inside his own.
If anything, it’s only more evidence of how long this has been in front of his face. A thing he now can’t unsee or unnotice. Because with you it’s never forced, not the way he feels or the way you fit. A place there for you, growing as he did, especially made for you inside of him.
He beats for you.
A realisation he really only accepted last night when he stood in your home—the one littered with the little quirks he’s been around to witness take shape. Like your obsessions with fake hanging plants, because you can’t keep real ones alive; that you like black and white images over colour, because it doesn’t matter what colour the room is.
“I think…”
Your brows rise, pulling your eyes with it—making them wider, more like pools. There’s hesitance embroiled in the rest of you, appearing so close to unravelling that it hurts his heart.
But it’s your eyes he focuses on. He’s always found them beautiful, and expressive—a thing he could happily dive into and contently live inside of if allowed.
“I think we make new rules?”
His grip tightens on your hand, and he feels your fingers slide with ease between his. Letting yourself soften to him, come to him—like you always do.
It would be easy for someone else to admit it all, to tell you that he wants you, likes you, practically fucking needs you. That you’re important, the most important thing, if anything—that he couldn’t leave you, not ever.
It had already pricked at him before the of you began all of this. When the two of you were nothing more than just best friends. It being there, ready to pierce him when he leaves for work, when he says goodbye; when he’s in a different city reading your text messages.
The idea of leaving, leaving, would kill him. Would be worse than a bullet ripping through flesh or a knife plunging into muscle. It would ruin him, end him.
Because you’re the light that leads him back. The hands that somehow find all the pieces of him that have shifted from their places, able to solve him, complete the puzzle. You see him, bloom inside of him, force away the darkness and add little beams of sunshine when it had only ever been shadows.
“We can’t see other people—”
“Frankie—I already know this.”
He gives you a look, a pointed one. A give me a second kind of look, and you relent, mouth clamping shut, eyes narrowing a touch.
Tracing his tongue over his bottom lip. “And, one of the nights I’m back—we go out. Whether it’s for a drive, for dinner, for a movie, something—anything. I… I wanna take you out.”
Your face flickers, attempting to shift. “Okay… I think I can do that...”
Taking a half-step closer, he watches your other hand fall to your side, allowing him to slide his hand over your hip. “And, I want you to cook for me. Baby, I miss your cooking so fucking much. I miss the little smile you do when you see me take a second bite—I… I miss it.”
“You gonna turn up for it?”
Smirking, he pinches your side. “I deserved that.”
Nodding, you smirk, and he takes the opportunity to look at you—really look. The shine in your eyes having returned, the slight upturn of your lips.
Seemingly, and obviously, coming to the conclusion he’s offering—and he’s sure if he could tell you what he thinks, what he said to Will, it would shift into a grin.
Holding your hip, he takes another half-step, the gap gone, faded, vanished. “And, I’m going to buy you wine—because… well, hand it to you, I never actually stopped.”
“Wait. What? What do you mean?”
Letting his hand release yours, Frankie instead cups your cheek, thumb stroking against it in a soft line. “Couldn’t help it. Each time I went to the store, I ended up buying it anyway. I have been for months, since we first began our arrangement. It’s just…. stored away. My cupboards are full of it, my truck even—it felt wrong not to buy it for you.”
Glancing down at you, he quickly spots how your eyes have begun to fill, water filling at the bottom that he already feels is different from the way they had done earlier. The sun catching them, twinkling, practically shimmering with something he hopes is joy.
It’s why he reaches his finger to brush out over the corner of your growing smile, feeling it, basking in it.
Clearing your throat, you bite your lip before saying, “Can I stay at yours—'cause your bed is so much nicer than mine.”
Laughing, he feels a grin explode across his face. “Can stay over at mine whenever baby.”
“Because I’m yours?”
The question makes his throat tighten, just a touch before his body floods with warmth. “Because you’re mine.”
And fuck, the way you look at him as the words hit you, it’s like nothing he can ever explain. No words able to describe it, no phrasing that can properly explain it. It’s like a thousand things all flickering over your face.
It’s why he kisses you, needing to feel it, taste it. Finding you moving your fingers around his neck, nails scratching lightly at the base of his hair.
“I like our new rules,” you whisper, mouth hovering over his.
“Yeah?”
Nodding, you bite your lip, twirling a curl around your finger before tugging ever so lightly.
“Yeah. I agree to all our new rules.”
As he smirks, you must want to feel it—because you press your lips back to his, deepening it, tongue sliding past his, licking behind his teeth as his body presses you more to the counter. So reminiscent of that first time—your words coming to him.
That is—if you didn’t find me so repulsive.
He groans against you, keeping you close, flush. “Fuck you must really like me, querida.”
Licking your lips, he hears you let out a soft breath. “I do, actually—in fact, I love you.” Lifting his brows, knowing they’re cutting into his forehead, likely all deep lines appearing as his eyes get even wider. “Have done for a stupidly long amount of time.”
“How long?”
Needing to hear it—needing it to coat him.
Shrugging, you smile, his hand rising, taking yours from around his neck and pressing it against his cheek. “Too long to not have said anything.”
“Me too.”
He wants to tell you it all. The speech that barely makes any sense. How his feelings for you are something akin to love at first sight, but not. Like an ache, a need. A purpose to make you smile, to make you happy—a thing he tried to do at all the chances he had.
And at some point, between then and now, he’d fallen, head over.
And fuck was he glad. More so as he has the opportunity to dance his breath along your lips, feeling the softest flicker of your hammering through his chest.
“Been crazy about you for ages,” he says, instead. “Made it easy to be too. Nothing about you has ever been difficult.”
“Not what I’ve heard you say in bed.”
Smirking, he purposefully slants his mouth over yours, wishing to paint your lips in the feelings that rage and flow throughout him. That he wants this, you, for the rest of his life.
“Thought I could never deserve you.”
“Fra—“
Your chastise is swallowed, muffled against his mouth as he silences you with his lips. Moving you, walking you—happy that you let him, as he twists his body, the two of you walk back to the room the two of you had woken up in. The one he wishes he gets to wake up in many more times.
“Tell me again.”
He knows he’s not specific, but he hopes you know. Not hiding the doubt he knows that usually strums inside of him, offering the chance for you to brush it away, remove it. Like you have done so many other times, but just never like this Your brain is cruel to you, Morales.
“I love you, Francisco.”
He kisses you, a groan vibrating against his lips as your body smothers his—all welcomed, a weight he’d missed.
“I love you so much, Frankie,” you whisper again, closer to his ear, his mouth on your neck, finding that spot.
Lifting the bottom of your jumper up, his thumb brushes over your soft stomach as he pulls it up off your body—unveiling you, smothering you in soft yellow as the sunlight tries to peek through your curtains.
“I love you, querida.”
He speaks it, then he burns those three words against you. Right under your ear as he casts your clothing to a corner, then against your pulse as he cups your breast, thumb brushing over the hardening peak as you whimper, before he does it a millimetre from your lips, watching you fix your gaze on him.
Your body is slowly smothered with his, letting himself feel you, all that he can. The few items the two of you are wearing are removed, falling in a littered pattern against the floor, until it’s just a skin-to-skin—the cool air pebbling both of your skin.
It’s your turn: say it again.
And he does. Not just with his lips, but with everything he has. Warming you, making you smile against his mouth as he slides his hand between your thighs, feeling it, how much you want him, how much you love him. Coating his fingers in it, that honeyed slick that he would feast on forever—almost tempted to drop to his knees and draw each letter of those three words against you.
“Wanna try something,” he whispers, instead.
Your eyes pinch, before smoothing out as he slides two fingers inside of you, easily up to the knuckle. Feeling enveloped, delving into silken warmth that welcomes him like you have done since the beginning.
“Wanna show you how pretty you are.”
His thumb catching your bundle of nerves, your pussy fluttering around his fingers—tightening, pulling him in. A gasp of his name leaving his mouth, already so wet, all beautiful, a sight to fucking behold as the tension fades and you relax around where he’s touching you.
“Can I?” he asks. “Show you?”
Yes.
I love you, he responds.
And you grind into him at the words, chasing a high from the fingers buried inside of you. He wants to say it more, let it be all he says to you today. Press it to every part of you, make sure you know only those words—
Your hand wraps around him, gripping him, thumb sliding over the head of his stiff, leaking cock as he grunts—and you grin. Twitching in your hand, mouth open as he rests his forehead against yours.
“Y’have the nicest cock, Frankie.”
“Fuck, baby.”
His eyes clench shut, your name falling from his mouth.
“Love how it feels inside of me.”
“Y’want it now, baby? Want my cock inside you?”
Please, you whimper. But, it’s only when you moan his name does he move, shifting you, removing his fingers from you, noting the whimper at the loss of him, as he guides your body in front of him, shifting until the two of you are standing in front of your mirror.
That mirror.
The one he’d thought of nothing else since you’d begun sending the photos, the phone call, the noises he was able to pull from you even miles away.
“Haven’t stopped thinking about your mirror, baby,” he whispers, nipping at your ear lobe. “Thought of taking you in front of it.”
Your head tilts, eyes meeting his, lust there—
And you sink to your knees without hesitation, staring up at him, waiting. That wave of whether he deserves you darting through him, but he stuffs it away, easily able to do when you offer your hand to him.
Following behind you, your back to his chest, a hand planted on your hip, the other guiding, leading the head of him in until you’re sliding yourself down on his cock. He buries himself inside of you, hissing as he does, as you take all of him, hearing the noticeable gasp as you do.
You’re so right, tight—so perfect. Moulded around him, adjusting, stretched just for him.
“So good for me.”
“I like it when you say that to me,” you whisper, eyes locking with his.
His fingers are on the base of your neck, staring at you in the mirror, letting his gaze wander up and down your naked frame. His hips slowly moving—cock sliding in and out. All slow, deliberate strokes that are so deep you whine in the base of your throat each time he leaves just the tip in.
“You look so beautiful taking me,” he hums, fingers flexing on your hip. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Me or—fuck, Frankie—my—“
He doesn’t let you finish, nipping your ear lobe. “You, querida. Always you.”
Your hand coming up around his neck, gripping, digging your nails into him as you move with him, hips slamming back into his—thrusts increasing, the noise the two of you are making together filling the air, a poignant reminder that it’s real, this, the two of you.
“I’m yours,” you croak.
Heat pools in his stomach, more so when he watches you in the mirror as your fingers slide between where the two of you are conjoined. Moaning, whimpering as your fingers move just above where his cock pistons in and out of you.
“All yours—always yours—“
Your walls tighten around him, fluttering, sucking him in and he wants nothing more than to fill you. Taking in each moan, noise, gasp you emit as your fingers begin to draw circles, his eyes focused on it, lasered in on your movements—knowing your eyes are on him.
“Gonna come, Frankie—so close—“
He’s tight, fingers grasping as his hips snap to yours, his mouth on the space between your neck and shoulder, licking, kissing, biting.
“Please, baby, please—“
“Let go for me, baby. Show me, let me have it.”
It’s heaven.
Getting to both feel it, watch you in awe of yourself as you do, while still getting to enjoy a view of you as your body tightens and then snaps. Your body arching into him, nails likely cutting into his skin, but he doesn’t care. Wants a bruise, and desires little half-moons scarred on his skin—evidence of the marks you constantly leave on the inside of him. The ones he welcomes, thankful for.
M’gonna come.
It leaves his mouth all foreign, your eyes opening, landing back on him—in awe, like he’s something you’ve fantasised about and found truly exists. And it’s all he needs, the look in your eyes, so close, impossibly so, flames dancing through him, all twisting, becoming an inferno.
“I love you, Frankie.”
His eyes lock with yours, your words hit his ears—and he comes hard. Shivering from it, shaking from it. Blissed out and fucked out as your name rips from his throat, painting the air in the same way he paints your walls.
Then he breathed, twitching, one last roll of his hips as he dragged your chin to face him, kissing you hungrily, desperately.
“I love you too,” he says, breathless, but very much fucking content.
At some point, you’re led back from the carpeted floor, back to the sheets you both woke in. His mouth sliding over your shoulder, fingers looped in yours.
The breakfast he had bought long since cold, but devoured, his hand on your knee as he grins at something you say, and you want to find your phone, open the camera and snap it.
It isn’t until the two of you are lay, silent, your hand inside his, head on his chest.
“When are you taking me on a date then?”
Hearing him snort, you look up, finding his eyes already on you, watching. “You free tonight?”
“I think I could move things around.”
And you smile, mirroring the one which slides across his—your heart thumping, all in a pattern it has been since the very beginning. I love you. I love you. I love you. Excited, thrumming with energy that slides against contentment, because—
“Really glad I’m yours, Frankie.”
Feeling his fingers fan out across your jaw and cheek, you let your eyes trace his smile.
“Glad you’re mine too, baby.”
Body curling into him, you let your fingers slide across his chest, you let the beat of his heart hammer against your wrist, smiling. Brain ticking, thinking, suddenly coming to a thought.
“Since Will knows. How long do you think it’ll take Benny to figure out we’re together?” you ask.
Staring off, you watch his eyes narrow as he begins to smirk. “Wanna see?”
“Oh, most definitely.”
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