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dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

Text

Good Kitty

Shouta Aizawa x Chubby! Kitty Hybrid! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18, leave. Thank you.

Warnings: Kitty hybrid reader, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink (?), reader has insecurities, Shouta is soft and lowkey feral?, chubby kink (sorta), reader has a heat for the first time, barely implied virginity loss, a touch of dacryphilia

Word Count: 2.4 k

Author’s Note: This is inspired by @cupcake-rogue ’s fic Not Allowed on the Bed. I got permission to use it as inspo so here we are! Tbh the orignal had me feeling all sorts of feelings because, as a very subby sub that loves to please, I definitely have a praise kink and I WILL CRY if I’m called a bad girl. HOWEVER, Katsuki being the rough-around-the-edges guy he is wanting reader regardless of size made me very happy and warm and fuzzy.

The premise with this is pretty much the same, except I made reader a kitty hybrid...and of course I wrote for Shouta, love of my life he is. I’m such a fucking simp. I’m not the biggest fan of the ending, but this has been sitting in my WIPs for too damn long and it’s decent enough for me to feel ok posting it.

Also, for reference, reader has black fur regardless of hair color. Reader could be blonde, but still have black ears and tail. That’s just the way I’ve chosen to write this for some reason, don’t ask me why, I’m weird like that.

I think this is the first time I’ve written for a hybrid, so cut me a little slack.

Anywho, enjoy~

You can’t remember life outside the shelter. You’d grown up here, the caretakers said they’d found you on the street as a nearly newborn kitten and immediately scooped you up and brought you back here. That was a long time ago. Now you sit, waiting, your hopes for getting adopted diminishing with every passing day.

It’s unfortunate, but you still haven’t been adopted. It’s not that you’re bad, you always behave, you make sure you do. But you’ve overheard time and time again the people that gazed down at you and whispered about how you were too chunky, too big and too squishy for a kitty hybrid. And some even called you bad luck. The pitch black fur on your ears and tail warded off many.

Today was just the same as any other day. Wake up, get fed, wait in your room while potential owners pick and choose not you. Adults and children alike would take chunks out of their time to play with you, but they all left the shelter with another smaller cat. It was nearing bed time now, dinner just finished and the caretakers were about to start closing when the little bell on the front door jingled. Someone had just come in. You ignored it all the same.

Two pairs of footsteps began making their way past rooms, whoever it was that had entered smelled good, like coffee and tree bark. A smooth hum accompanied the caretaker’s voice, it made your ears twitch and tail sway gently. Still, you decided to just curl up in bed and try to sleep. The chance of him adopting you was slim, if it existed at all.

As you lay there your ears pick up their footsteps, the lazy set that dragged familiar, the nearly silent set less so. You listened as they came closer, never stopping as the man strode past each room and peered in the windows. You waited for them to pass right by your room, as they had been, but suddenly the footsteps halted. The caretaker spoke first.

“Y/n? You awake?” You let your eyes flutter open and sat up, tucking your legs under you and sitting up straight. They asked the man if he wanted to go in and see you, and he gave a simple nod. When he entered you finally looked up at him. The first thing you noticed were his eyes, tired and bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, a deep scar curved under his right eye. His long black hair fell around his shoulders, swaying lightly with every measured step he took toward you.

He stopped right in front of you, a large hand stretching out and you give it a small sniff before nudging your head into it, letting him pet your hair and scratch at the base of your ears. It felt nice to be getting attention like this. A small purr sounded in your chest, your tail gently swishing behind you.

“How long have you been here?” His voice is deep and calm, tired even, but it sounds so welcoming. It’s so soothing to your sensitive ears, like a warm blanket. You give a small hum before answering.

“A long time. I don’t remember anything outside this place.” At that he raised an eyebrow, turning to the caretaker with a questioning look.

“Most people look for...specific traits in the cat hybrids. Y/n here is well behaved, a perfect house kitty really,” you purred a bit at the praise, “But she’s a little larger than most. And her black fur wards off the more superstitious.” The man gives a curious hum before looking back down at you.

“Do you want to come home with me, kitty?” The question caught you a little off guard. Nobody really asked the hybrids if they wanted to go with them. You looked over to the caretaker, who nodded their head with a gentle smile, encouraging you to answer. All you could do was give a small nod, and soon you were in the car, on the way to your new home.

He’d told you to call him Shouta. He was nice, always quiet and never got mad. He never smiled, but you supposed that’s just the way he is. He gave you your own room, and always let you rub up on him when you wanted to, taking the opportunity to pet you. Occasionally you got the odd kiss on the forehead when you nuzzled into his neck. Those always made you purr. He never came seeking you out, which was good since there were times you really didn’t want to be touched.

The longer you’re with him the closer you get, and you find yourself doing things you’d never thought to do before. Sometimes you found the floor more comfortable than the couch, and would kneel down and rub up on his leg, your tail wrapping around his ankle. There were times you’d see his fingers idly drumming on his lap, and you’d lay down and nibble on one with your little fang-like canines. He didn’t seem to mind that little oral fixation, and he always let you do whatever you wanted. All in all, life with Shouta is great.

But today you feel weird. You’d been cooped up in your room for the first hour or so of the weekend morning, not quite wanting to go out and make it known something was off. But it’s gotten abnormally hot, your face and chest especially warm, and between your legs as well. Your panties are beginning to feel damp, your thighs starting to feel humid and sticky. It’s a little uncomfortable. And your tummy is starting to boil, neediness beginning to cloud your mind. This never happened at the shelter.

Reluctantly, you step out of bed onto slightly wobbly legs and peek your head out of your door to see him sitting on the couch, a book in hand and a mug of coffee on the table. His hair is loose, his strong lean body relaxed as he read. The sight of him and his scent made the feeling worse, made your panties and thighs wetter, your chest beginning to heave with your panted breaths.

“Sh-shouta…” Your voice came out shakier and quieter than you wanted it to, but he’d heard you regardless. He closed the book and peered over at your shaking form in the doorway.

“What is it kitty?” You nearly mewled at his voice, his heavenly smooth baritone sending a shiver down your spine through to the tip of your tail.

“Something’s wrong...I feel weird…” As you tell him about everything that’s happening to your body, he’s dragging his eyes over you, taking in every detail. Soon he’s on the phone with the doctor, you can’t quite comprehend his words, only catching snippets. ‘Help’ and ‘how long’, followed by agreeing hums. It was all jumbled after that, your mind refusing to focus as you leaned heavily on the doorframe, your quivering legs barely able to hold your body.

Shouta’s large hand came up and cupped your cheek, letting you nuzzle into his palm. When had he hung up the phone? He ordered you to sit on the bed, and you obliged, watching as he swept up his hair into a loose bun and strode over, tilting your chin to look up at him through half-lidded eyes. He’s so close, his scent overwhelming and making your brain fuzzy.

“You’re in heat, kitty.” Heat...where had you heard that before? Back at the shelter, maybe? It was all a distant, unfocused memory right now. Shouta leaned down and kissed you sweetly, lips melding with yours as you purred and mewled, your tail thrashing behind you. His hands tugged at your clothes until you were bare before him, every inch of you on display.

“You’re such a pretty kitty, you know that? So beautiful. Lay down for me.” The praise made you purr, made a chill crawl up your spine and your tail flick wildly. You obeyed the command, laying flat in the middle of the bed and he slotted himself between your legs, plunging two fingers into your tight hole. He let out a groan, pumping and scicssoring his fingers to stretch you out. You were already a sloppy mess, loud squelches ringing through the room in between your loud, whiny mewls and panting.

It felt so good, the heat in your belly burning and tightening until Shouta’s fingers curled up into a spot that made stars dance in your vision. The pressure in your belly snapped hard, your legs trembling as he kept fingering you through it. His fingers slowed when you whined about it being too much, too sensitive. But you still felt hot all over, now it was worse, you wanted something so bad but you didn’t know what.

He got up and undressed himself and you licked your lips at his naked body, scarred skin pulled taut over thick muscle. What stood between his legs had heat spreading like fire through your body. You’d never seen a naked man before. He was quick to return to you, slotting his hips between your thighs and guiding the thick head of his cock along your soaked folds.

“Relax kitty. I’m gonna make you feel good.” You gave a small nod and then he was pushing his thick cock inside you, groaning at the way your pussy clamped down on him. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as he slowly pushed and pumped his hips, cock dragging along your wet warm walls perfectly. Mewls slipped past your lips, high pitched whines and pants like music in Shouta’s ears.

His hands wandered over your body, squishing and pulling at every piece of you he could get his calloused fingers on. It made you squirm beneath him, your own hands trying to push his away, but he wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head in one strong hand, then went right back to groping your body with his free one.

“I can’t have you stopping me from touching you, kitty.” That’s all he said before focusing back on your body. He tugged at your belly, your sides, every place that was fatty and squishy. He’d never admit out loud how much he loved how soft you are. You’re perfect, plump and meaty, just more for him to touch, to look at, more to squeeze and pinch and pull.

He groaned out as you whined beneath him, tears beginning to clump in your lashes because he just kept squeezing, and he isn’t fucking you hard enough. Your orgasm built slowly with his languid pace, not nearly enough to get you to that peak and you were frustrated because you wanted relief but it wouldn’t come. Shouta picks up on your hips jerking and rolling, trying to get him to fucking move faster. He pulled his hips back and slammed back in, setting a brutal pace and making you whine high and long.

Tears begin to fall from the sheer ecstasy of it, and he’s realizing how much he loves to see you cry from the pleasure he can give you. With a groan, he’s releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face into your breasts and biting and sucking at your skin as he pounds you into the mattress. He isn’t normally an impulsive man, wouldn’t let himself let go like this. But for you. For you he’d give in to his lust and ravage you like you need him to.

Your orgasm slams over your body like a tsunami, your muscles locking up and a loud yip ringing from your throat, pleasure making your whole body shake. Shouta let out a hiss, your nails digging into the muscles in his back furiously, but he wouldn’t stop for that. He never stuttered in his pace, just kept ramming his hips into yours, heavy balls slapping against your ass and lewd squelches coming from where your bodies are connected.

You’re overstimulated, throat feeling raw and tears still falling down your heated cheeks as you thrash from another orgasm, this one just as powerful as the last and making your vision spot black. This time Shouta leans back, wrapping a hand around your throat and licking the salty trails away.

“Such a good little kitty for me, so good.” With a few more thrusts he’s spilling inside you, and you can feel the warmth spread in your belly as you lay there, boneless. He lays down on top of you, both of you sweaty and tired and he starts whispering sweet words into your twitching ears.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, kitten.”

“Such a good girl for me.”

“You’re all mine, kitty. So good, all for me.” Tears begin to spill from your eyes for a different reason. Up until now you’d lived your life believing nobody wanted you because there was something wrong with you. You never felt ugly, never really felt like there was something truly wrong with you, but you always felt...unwanted. Unloved. Unlovable.

But Shouta makes you feel wanted, and loved, and pretty and all the things you always assumed you didn’t deserve. You’re his kitty now, and you’re such a good kitty for him too. He’s showering you with affection that you’d never known before and you’re shaking from all the overwhelming emotions. He can feel your body quivering, leans back to look at you and cups your face in his warm palm.

“What’s wrong, kitten? Why are you crying?” Your nose twitches as you sniffle, which he mildly notes is fucking adorable.

“Do you mean it? Am I a good kitty?” His eyebrows furrow and he rolls the both of you over so you’re on top of him. He’s peering into your big sad eyes as if reading your soul through them, trying to read the emotions you’re feeling, but it isn’t hard for him to figure out what’s racing through your mind. You nuzzle your nose into his neck and breathe in his scent, his hand coming up to pet your hair and ears.

“Of course, kitten. You’re such a good kitty.” The small reassurance makes you feel warm and happy, your tail flicking softly before curling around both your leg and Shouta’s, the end brushing his skin gently. You can’t help but want to stay with Shouta forever.

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1K notes · View notes

whumperooni · 3 years

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what’s mine is mine

Pairing: Touya Todoroki x Sister!Reader

Tags/Warnings: tw incest, tw breeding kink, scumbag squad, drugs and drinking, possessive behavior

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: This is in response to a big brained nonny! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to it!

“Touya-nii, do you want some- oh. Sorry, nii-san, I didn’t know you had guests over...”

Touya lifts his head from his phone to find you standing in the doorway- a curious tilt to your head and hands clasped behind your back. On the couch across from him, his shitty friends are looking at you- just as curious but with a look in their eyes that he doesn’t appreciate.

There’s a reason he doesn’t have them over when you’re home.

“Woah, Todoroki- who is this? Don’t tell me that’s your little sister. Where’ve ya been hiding her?”

Touya huffs as Keigo grins and you flush- teeth digging into your bottom lip, eyes lowering to the floor under the attention, a tiny smile threatening to form that Touya is very unhappy to see.

“C’mere, little birdy, let us see ya. Come say hi.”

The scowl that breaks across Touya’s face only makes Keigo smirk. Your eyes dart to Touya- seeking his approval, your face flustered- and Touya huffs again, rolls his eyes whenever Jin raises a brow toward him.

At least Tenko’s already gone back to playing his game- head bowed and bloodshot eyes only flicking toward you whenever Touya waves you over to him and you hesitantly enter the room.

He doesn’t like the way three sets of eyes run over your legs and he really doesn’t like the way Keigo’s smirk grows whenever his own eyes narrow.

Fuckin’ bastard. He’s nothing but scum.

Touya grabs your wrist as soon as you’re close enough to him to do so and he yanks you down onto his lap, ignores the squeak that leaves you whenever he wraps his arms around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder, rests a hand on your thighs.

“Asshole friends, this is my little sister. Sis, these are my asshole friends.”

“Yo.”

“Hey.”

“...mmm.”

“H-Hi...”

Keigo coos at your shy voice and Jin smiles a little- expression hazy from all the weed he’s smoked. Tenko glances at you- pointedly at your legs, between them- and Touya scowls, squeezes your thighs and pulls you even closer against him.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you come over here with us? If you want a lap to sit on, you can always use mine or Jin’s.”

“What about mine?”

“No one wants to sit on yours, weeb.”

“You can sit on mine,” Jin mumbles, barely audible over Tenko and Keigo’s squabbling. “I don’t mind.”

Your head moves with a shake and your fingers curl into your skirt- cheeks flaring as you press back against Touya. Something relaxes in his chest with that and he hugs you a little closer, smothers the impulse to lay his lips to your neck.

“N-No, thank you,” you mumble to Jin- so polite, so shy, so very good with your refusal.

“Didn’t want you to anyway.”

Touya snorts at that, just shakes his head when you look back at him in confusion.

Out of all of them, Jin’s probably the least likely threat. Tenko would be if he didn’t have a habit of staring and sneaking photos of any and every girl he can- he wouldn’t ever actually try anything on you, but Touya doesn’t want upskirt photos of his lil sis on that perv’s phone.

Keigo’s the worst by and far. And Touya will be damned if he lets his little sister get anywhere near that jackass with his sickly sweet charm, shit eating grins, and groping hands.

No way- you’re his.

“Nii-san,” you whisper, looking back at him with your cute little flushed cheeks and shy eyes. “Nii-san, I just came down to ask if you wanted some dinner. Natsuo-nii said he’d pick up some take-out...”

Natsuo? What the fuck are you doing hanging around Natsuo? That little shit should be on some cheesy date with his squeaky mouse of a girlfriend instead of trying to weasel in some time with you.

Touya doesn’t know which he hates more- the thought of his sleazy friends trying to flirt with you or the thought of you hanging out with your older brother, his younger brother.

When he only scowls in response, your face falls. You turn on his lap until you’re sat facing him- fingers curling into his shirt and brow furrowed, your bottom lip jutting out into one of those cute pouts of yours that you like to wear when you’re worried about him.

Over your shoulder, Touya can see Jin’s confusion and Tenko’s cocked brow, Keigo’s narrowed eyes. He flashes them a sneer that you can’t see and settles his hands on your hips, looks back down at you to see what’s got you bothered enough to forget your shyness.

“Onii-chan,” you start- voice tilting with a soft whine, something almost lecturing creeping through the words. “Nii-san, Natsuo-nii was just being nice. And you need to eat.”

Your hands run down his chest and your expression grows softer as you look up at him through your lashes, your voice gets quieter as you whisper to him,

“I worry about you, nii-san. You’re so skinny...”

The tips of your fingers press into the spaces between his ribs and Touya sighs as concern fills your eyes, ignores the stares of his friends from across the room.

“Fine, whatever,” he grumbles. “Get something for me and put it in the fridge. I’ll eat it later.”

“You promise?”

A huff leaves him and you pout whenever he rolls his eyes, but a nod of his head gets your lips quirking up with a pleased little smile all the same.

“I’ll get you some low mein,” you chirp, hands smoothing down his chest. “And I’ll have Natsuo-nii get you some beer too!”

“Aw, ain’t she just the sweetest.”

Keigo’s croon has you blushing and Touya huffs again once your head ducks- lips twitching with irritation as you squirm on his lap and the blonde across the room bares his teeth at him in a grin.

Fuckin’ dick.

“I, um, I- I should go tell Natsuo-nii,” you mumble, cheeks still flared up and voice dipping shy again. Touya just grunts and he squeezes your hips before giving one a little smack.

A press of soft lips to his cheek and then you’re off- Keigo, Jin, and Tenko all watching as you hurry out of the room and out of sight.

As soon as you’re gone, they look to him and Touya’s eyes narrow when a low whistle sounds from Keigo.

“Shit, Todoroki, and here I thought your whole family was just a bunch of dogs.”

“Oh fuck off,” Touya snaps, reaching for the blunt wraps with a scowl. “Don’t get any fuckin’ ideas, birdbrain.”

“Ideas?” Keigo laughs- grin still in place, turning sleazy. “Now why would I have any ideas about your cute lil sis and her cute lil tits.”

“I said fuck off.”

“She is pretty cute,” Jin mumbles, fingers scratching along his chest and lips holding a dazed smile that only has Touya scowling darker. “Like her ass...”

“Bet she cums like an ahego whore,” Tenko throws out without even looking up from his stupid fucking game. “Looks like a dumb slut.”

“Think the weeb’s right,” Keigo sneers. “Hey- she got a boyfriend, Todoroki?”

“I don’t know- you got a black eye?”

“Aw, cute- he’s protective.”

“Virgin then,” Tenko pipes up. “Bet she’d cream herself if she got kissed.”

A growl rips from Touya and the three bark out some laughs- Keigo and Tenko smirking while Jin’s dumb little smile grows.

He’s gonna fucking kill these assholes.

He knew they’d be nothing but scum when it came to you- he should’ve made sure you’d be out of the house before he let these three dicks come over for a smoke sesh.

Touya scowls and his friends keep up- slinging lewd comments and jeers as he smokes and stews.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Two in the morning and Touya’s buzzed.

Buzzed and fucking pissed.

Those assholes didn’t let up all night. Every other sentence out of Keigo’s mouth was about fucking you, getting you on your knees, making you drunk and stupid so he could wreck your ass. Tenko kept comparing you to characters from his ero games and Jin kept mumbling how he wanted you to sit on his dick, warm his cock while he smokes.

Jin was bareable, kind of. But Tenko and Keigo?

It’s a goddamn miracle he didn’t break their faces.

Touya scowls as he watches his so called friends head out and narrows his eyes at one last jeer of “kiss your sis good night for me” tossed out ny Keigo.

Those fuckers need to learn some manners. Those fuckers need to learn who you belong too.

Scowl deepening, Touya heads toward your room- feet stumbling and teeth gritting.

You’re asleep when he barges in- face peaceful, blanket twined between your legs, fingers curled into the sheets. He looks over you for a second, runs his eyes over bared thighs and cotton panties, and then he walks toward the bed, climbs onto it.

As soon as the mattress dips, your lashes flutter open and you stir with a sigh. You don’t do more than give a sleepy blink when he brackets himself over you, offer him a fuzzy, drowsy smile.

“Touya-nii...? What...what time is it?”

“Two.”

A hum and a yawn, another sleepy little blink. You’re cute like this and usually Touya would just crash beside you, but he’s got other plans right now- stupid, drunk, dumb plans but plans all the same.

“Hey- hey, don’t go back to sleep.”

There’s a huff from you, a furrowing of your brows. But you obey him as you always do; you sit up with another yawn and rub at your eye with a loose fist, let him tug the covers off of you without a fuss.

“Nii-san...nii-san, what is it?”

Touya ignores you and he grabs onto your still sleepy face, pulls you closer until he can kiss you, make you whine and moan. You jerk, just a bit, at the way he bites into your bottom lip and then you’re melting into his touch, looking up at him through half-shut eyes whenever he breaks the kiss and runs his drunken gaze over your flushed face.

“Nii-san...?”

Touya grunts and thumbs away a dribble of spit from the corner of your lips, ignores the quiet confusion written all over your face. You press into his touch and he watches you blink, reaches over to flick on the lamp without looking. He almost knocks it over but he ignores that, too, and kisses you again- not caring if you’re blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden light or if you’re still thrown a little off kilter by his mood and his lingering scowl.

This kiss is rougher- his fingers snarling into your hair and his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, his grip tightening on your head. You whimper with it and Touya growls, doesn’t pull back until he feels you tremble and shake. Your lips part with a question, quivering and plumped up from his bites, and Touya huffs before it can sound, grits out his own.

“You love me, right?”

Your eyes snap open, you breathe in sharp and fast- bewilderment all over your face and any lingering traces of sleep evaporated in an instant. Your hands fly to his face and his lips twitch at the touch, he presses into it even if it’s a fucking weak little move.

“Touya-nii, of course I love you! I love you with all my heart!”

Sweet, a little hurt, absolutely sincere- you say it with wide eyes and so much concern that it makes him want to scowl even deeper, punch himself for being so stupid to even ask.

Of course you love him- he’s your nii-san after all.

Touya huffs and his shoulders relax a little, his tongue darts out to wet his lips as your brows scrunch together in worry.

You’re a good little sister. He doesn’t have anything to worry about- never will.

But fuck he’s still pissed.

“I wanna do something,” he half-growls out. “You’ll be good for me, yeah?”

A flush, a squirm. You nod, though- brows still furrowed and eyes scanning his face in search for some answer to your confusion.

“Of course, nii-san,” you whisper. “I- of course. What-”

“Take your clothes off. All of ‘em.”

A soft noise slips from you and you breathe in shakily, but there’s no hesitance in the way your hands rise to tug off your shirt.

Touya watches for a moment and then he gets up from the bed, walks over to the door and closes it, locks it.

You’re naked by the time he comes back- flushed but not embarrassed, bruises littered everywhere your clothes can hide them. Touya eyes the bruises, those marks he’s put all over his dear, sweet little sister, and his lashes lower, something hungry and greedy starts to grow inside of him.

You’ve never belonged to anyone but him.

He touches your cheek- soft in the moment, rough edges hazed over by your adoration. A tap to it has your lashes fluttering, a press of his thumb to your lips has you shuddering.

“We’re gonna make a lil movie,” he rumbles out. You startle, eyes flying wide open once again, but you don’t protest or tell him no even if unease has your fingers curling tight into the sheets.

You never tell him no.

“I...okay, nii-san...”

The compliance has him humming- thumb dipping past your parted lips so he can press it down against your wet tongue.

It’s sweet how you agree, satisfying- more satisfying then the beer he threw back all throughout the night and the weed he smoked away.

A lick to his lips and Touya pulls away, starts to strip away his clothes- hands fumbling, clumsy as he tries to undo buttons and zippers. You watch him silently- cheeks heating up and thighs pressing together- and your teeth find your bottom lip when he starts to tug down his boxers, when his cock springs free.

“Turn around,” he orders. “Get on your knees, put that fucking pretty face against the bed and raise that ass up for me.”

Shivering, you obey- a mewl slipping from you as you do.

Touya grabs his phone from his pants and he kneels by the bed, pulls up the camera and hits record.

You’re wet and it’s easy to see even in the lowlight, even on the shitty phone screen. When he grabs onto your ass with his free hand and spreads your cheek, your hole clenches- tightens and spreads and makes him smirk.

“So fucking wet for me,” he half-sneers, a laugh sounding through the words. “Look at this pretty lil cunt all soaked and eager.”

“T- Touya...”

He huffs at your little whimper of a whine and brings the phone even close, records the way your hips twitch and your cunt sucks in his thumb when he presses against it.

“So fuckin’ wet and warm. So tight,” he hisses. “All for me, baby- right?”

“Y- yes. It’s all- all for you!”

Touya snorts and he slips his thumb out so he can spread your pussy open again, presses his palm against it and then lays a wet smack to your ass that has you yipping, arching your hips even closer to him.

“You ever been with anyone but me?”

The sheets rustle as you shake your head and Touya grips your ass tight, digs his fingers in deep and makes you squirm, whine. When there’s no verbal answer, he spanks you again in warning and you whine even louder, press your thighs tight together.

“N- no! Just you! Just Touya!”

“You want anyone else?”

“No! Never!”

Touya grins and the restless anger in him quells, just a little, at your mewled loyalty.

A fucking good little sister indeed.

Touya aims the camera at the red blooming across your ass and then he stands, moves it over to capture your arched back. He runs his hand over your side and you shiver a little, press your hips back against him until his cock nudges at your soaked cunt.

“You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?” he half taunts- the words coming out sickly sweet, rough around the edges.

“Please!”

Your moan is even sweeter than his question- hips bucking back against his cock, fingers fisting the sheets tight in your hold.

“Think you can do better than that,” he huffs, leaning over until he can tangle his fingers into your hair. “Tell me how bad ya want it.”

A whine sounds- pathetic and flustered, pitching up sharp as he yanks your head up from the bed. The tiniest sob slips from you as he forces your head back and you stare up into the camera- cheeks flushed, eyes glittering, an undeniable need flourishing across your your face.

“Please, nii-san,” you beg, nearly breathless and so fucking sweet. “Please I want- I want you to fuck me! I want- want your cock!”

“Only mine?”

Another whine and you nod, whimper as your hair gets tugged and pulled by the movement.

“Only Touya-nii’s!”

“Good girl.”

A gasp from you and a cute little mewl- the praise has you flushing darker and a tremble wracking through your body, your lashes fluttering and falling half-shut.

“Nii-san, please...”

Touya grunts and the camera shakes in his hand for a moment before he steadies himself. He rocks against you, has you whimpering, and then he grips his cock, lets you bury your face back into the sheets as he starts to push his way into your eager little cunt.

You clench around him, so fucking eager as always, and Touya groans at that, lowers his phone to show off the way his cock slides into your plush little pussy with ease.

“So fucking wet, baby,” he praises- taunts- in a growl. “Ain’t never had a cunt like yours. So fucking tight and sweet. You were made to take my dick, weren’t cha?”

A shuddering moan wracks through you- body trembling and cunt clenching around his cock so tight it makes Touya hiss and claw his nails into your hips. You whimper at the sting and he doesn’t have to see your face to know you’ve got tears in your eyes, doesn’t have to hear any mewl or whine to know that you love it.

“I- I was made- was made- oh, nii-san!”

Touya snorts at your moan, tilts his head back with a groan as he sinks even deeper into your silken, squeezing little cunt.

“Throw those fucking hips back,” he snarls, orders. “Fuck yourself on me.”

A mewl and you do just as he says- rocking your hips back like the obedient girl you are and whining as his piercings drag along the throbbing walls of your pussy. Touya rolls his head back forward so he can watch and he angles the camera so he can capture the way the soft flesh of ass jiggles each time it meets his pelvis.

“So fuckin’ good,” he mumbles. “Takin’ it so well- best fuckin’ pussy around. No one fucks like my lil sis.”

It’s more to the camera- to the future audience- but you still whimper and grind against him, drags your nails over the sheets with a soft little whine.

“Nii-san- Touya-nii, please!”

“What? You gonna come already?”

“Please!”

Touya huffs and he lays a spank to your ass, drags out a moan and has your hips stuttering against him.

“Come on nii-san’s cock then. Come nice and pretty like a good girl.”

A whimper and then you’re trembling, whining as your cunt clenches and flutters around his cock. His teeth grit with the squeeze of your cumming pussy and Touya has to dig his nails back into your hip so he doesn’t moan- lips pulling into a growling snarl as he tries not to cum with you.

“Nii-san! Nii-san!”

He lets you moan and writhe and mewl until you limp beneath him and then he leans over you, presses his chest flat against your back and curls his fingers into your hair, jerks your head to the side and shoves the phone in your face.

He wants them to see your flushed face and muddied eyes. He wants them to see your fucked out face and fluttering lashes. He wants them to see your face as he cums inside of you, as you cum on his cock again.

Touya fucks into you- movement shallow, his cock still driving in so fucking deep- and you moan, shudder whenever his teeth scrape over your shoulder.

“You like nii-san’s cock fuckin’ deep inside you?”

“Oh- oh, yes! Love it nii-san!”

It comes out whiny- so fucking needy. Touya grunts when your cunt pulses around him and he fucks into you rough, makes you mewl out his name.

“Nii-san’s gonna fuckin’ fill ya,” he snarls. “Fill your tight lil cunt. Gonna fuckin’ breed ya! Breed my sweet lil sis- fuckin’ shit- gonna cream that cunt!”

“Please! Please! Touya- nii please!”

You beg so fucking sweet. Touya snarls and he fucks into you rough, pulls your hair tight as he shoots his cum deep into your needy little pussy, fills you to the goddamn brim with his seed. You cum, again, with him and you moan as you do- so loud and cute.

Whimpers rip from you as he humps his cum deep inside you and you shudder when he grinds into your cunt, coo dreamily whenever he lays a kiss to your flushed cheek.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs.

A mewl as you nod drowsily and Touya snorts at your sleepy smile, turns the camera to his face and sneers before ending the recording.

He drops it in the groupchat before he slides out of you and sits back on his knees. You nuzzle into the covers as he runs his hand through his hair and Touya huffs, snorts as you yawn.

“C’mon,” he tells you- maybe quietly fond in a way he’ll never admit-, “let’s crash.”

You hum and you nod and Touya lets you shuffle under the covers, follows after you and pulls you close.

He clicks off the lamp and the two of you drift off to sleep- satisfaction filling Touya as his phone goes off and a happy smile on your face.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Tenko is the first to watch the video.

He gets the notification in the middle of crushing up some pills. His first instinct is to just ignore it, but impulse has him reaching for the phone, has his thumb clicking the play button before he can really think about it.

His brow arches, but he’s not too surprised by the smut dropped into the chat- between Keigo and Touya it happens on the weekly and he’s more than used to it.

He could use new fap material, anyway.

Tenko settles back in his chair and takes his cock out, gives it a stroke as he eyes the cunt filling the screen.

Wet, cute- he’d like to fuck it, fill it.

Why the fuck does Touya always get such sweet pussy?

A scowl twists his lips, but his hand twists along with it- pumps along his shaft as he enjoys the sight of arched hips and a cute ass.

He’d fucking wreck that ass given the chance. Slam his dick deep inside and makes this bitch moan.

“You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?”

“Please!”

Fuck- what a good lil cunt.

Tenko grunts as he rocks into his fist, but then he fucking moans when he sees just who Touya is fucking.

Shit- fuck.

He knew the bastard was twisted but goddamn.

Tenko almost laughs, but he’s too busy jerking himself off even faster- eyes narrowed and teeth gritted, a pant sounding from him.

“Yeah, shit. Fuck that little sluts’s cunt. Breed your lil sis you fucking dick.”

He should be disgusted, probably. Horrified at the very least.

But fuckin’ hell this is hot and he’s been jackin’ it to shit like this for years anyway.

And, fuck, this is real- this is hottest shit he’s watched all month. All goddamn year.

Tenko cums before the clip is even over and he keeps fucking his fist even after, replays it with a hissed curse.

Touya better drop more after this. He better let them see this in real life- Tenko needs to see this slut’s fucked out face in the flesh, needs to shove his fingers into your moaning mouth and make you choke.

Tenko licks his lips and he saves the video- saves it a second time for a back up.

Just in case.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

The second person to see the video is Jin.

He’s home- drunk, high, smoking a cigarette and watching reruns of Doraemon.

He’s feeling fuzzy, good. The night had been chill and he had liked getting a glimpse of Touya’s little sister- you’d been real cute, real sweet. He had wanted you to sit next to him- maybe in his lap like Keigo had teased- and he had wanted to hug you close, get you just as high and fuzzy as him.

He might have a lil puppy dog crush on you now- how could he not with you so shy and sweet?

Jin hums as he thinks of you, scratches his stomach and grins sleepily- one laugh leaving him as he watches Nobita fail once again.

His phone buzzes and Jin fumbles a hand over until he can pick up, blinks and raises a brow when he finds a video in the chat.

Someone fucked or someone did something stupid.

Or fucked someone stupid.

A snort leaves him and Jin takes a draw of his cigarette, lounges back and presses play.

It’s the usual shit- hot and boasting and showing off a cute lil wet cunt, a soft and sweet ass.

He’s a bit jealous, maybe. (Definitely)

He’s a bit too relaxed and heavy to get off on it, maybe. (No he’s not)

Eyes drawing half-shut, Jin reaches a hand down his sweatpants. He strokes himself lazily as he watches Touya spanks his mewling, whiny little slut and he smokes as he does, too- humming whenever he hears the plea to be fucked.

Cute. (Hot)

Whoever this is seems like a good little girl. (A needy little whore)

A small grunt leaves him when he watches Touya tangle his fingers into hair, but a gasp of “shit” leaves him whenever a head is jerked back and he sees a cute, flushed face that he definitely knows.

“What the fuck?”

He has to pause the video, bring the phone up to his face and squint at the screen.

He’s not seeing this right- can’t be seeing this right. He’s too drunk, too stoned. too fucked up- his vision is betraying him. It has to be.

...right?

Jin stares at the screen. He stares and stares and stares. His thumb hovers over the screen, hesitating, and the ashes from his cigarette fall onto his bare chest while he tries to decide what to do.

Touya wouldn’t really...he’s not really fucking his little sister is he?

No way. No fucking way.

(Yes fucking way)

Jin blinks and his thumb hit the screen, he swallows as he watches you beg for your big brother’s cock.

Fuck, that’s sick. That’s disgusting.

(That’s so fucking hot.)

His cheeks flush and his eyes widen, draw back down to lazy slits. His fingers twitch along his cock, tighten back around it when he gets treated with the sound of a whimper, a moan.

You sound so fucking good. (You sound so fucking whiny)

You’re so cute- you probably have such a tight, wet little pussy. (You probably have such a sloppy, fucked out cunt if Touya fucks you like this on the regular)

Shit, he wants to know how your cunt feels. He wants you on his lap, wants to feel you clench around his cock like a good little girl.

(A good little whore)

It’s too much to watch- too much to handle. Jin closes his eyes and tilts his head back with a groan, jerks himself to all the mewls and growls and groans and begs that sounds from the phone.

He comes along to the sound of you coming and he shudders after it, drags his hand over his cock and wipes the mess over his sweats.

...fuck. He shouldn’t have done that- he shouldn’t have watched that. He’s not going to be able to look you in the eyes if he ever gets to see you again.

(Fuck your eyes- he wants to look up your skirt, see that cute little pussy again)

Jin frowns and he runs his hand through his hair, tosses his burnt out cigarette into the ashtray before lighting another.

On the tv, Doraemon laughs. On his phone, Touya kisses your cheek and smirks at the camera- at Jin.

Fuckin’ dick. (Lucky bastard)

Jin shakes his head and he closes his eyes again, takes a draw and blows out a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.

...he’s got some fucked up friends. (No more fucked up than him)

A grimace and then Jin looks to his phone, taps on the screen and watches through heavy lidded eyes as his friend fucks his sweet little sister.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Keigo’s the last to see the video- he finds it in the chat after he’s sent the neighbor girl back home, after he’s gotten some head and drawled out promises of feelings that he’ll never feel for some dumb little whore with aspirations of home in the ‘burbs and a passel of brats.

He snorts when he sees it, thinks it’s just some busted bitch that Touya talked into coming over so he could rail his anger out.

Touya’s always been a touchy little shit.

He stills plays it, though- drops down on to his bed and kicks back, takes a swig of beer.

It’s a pretty little cunt that gets flashed his way- wet and eager, nice and snug looking. Keigo rolls his eyes whenever Touya’s fuckin’ voice sounds, but he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy the sight of that cute cunt sucking in a rough thumb, the sound of a little whimpers and mewls.

Not a bad pussy, not a bad voice- maybe this slut isn’t that busted?

Or maybe she’s just a butterface.

A snort and Keigo lazily works his hand down his chest, underneath his sweatpants. He strokes him even if he’s just half hard and he lets his gaze drift to something half-lidded, amused and lazy.

“So fuckin’ wet and warm. So tight. “All for me, baby- right?”

Fuckin’ show off- as if this one ups the coed Keigo had last week, as if this one ups the way he had fucked her throat raw in the library and came all over her dumb face, all over her fat tits.

“Y- yes. It’s all- all for you!”

Wait a second...

Keigo blinks and his brow arches as he watches Touya lays a smack across a cute little ass.

That voice sounds kind of familiar. Someone he’s fucked before? Did Touya snag one of his sloppy seconds?

Fuckin’ maybe- fucker is stupid and petty enough to do that.

Not that Keigo cares, though- he’s never fucked anyone that he’d get jealous over.

It’s more funny than anything, actually.

Keigo snorts, again, and he pumps his cock with a sneer.

“You ever been with anyone but me?”

Yeah, you’ve been with someone better. Will probably come crawling back to him, too, when you’re left dissatisfied by Touya’s weak ass stroke game.

“N- no! Just you! Just Touya!”

...what?

“You want anyone else?”

“No! Never!”

What?

Who the fuck is this bitch?

Keigo scoffs as he hears a beg to be fucked sound, rolls his eyes as he watches skinny fingers tangle into hair.

Maybe he’ll have to hunt down this slut and wreck her, shove it in Touya’s face right back.

Keigo drags his palm over his cock right as Touya jerks a headful of hair back and Keigo damn near crushes his dick whenever he catches sight of just who Touya has caught in his clutches.

Oh that fucking bastard. That son a bitch.

A slew of curses hisses from him and Keigo snarls as he takes in your teary, needy face, as he hears his creep of a friend’s little sister beg to be fucked by Touya.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The growl spits out of him and Keigo is barely aware of it- can’t fucking care about it as he watches Touya nail his cute lil sis.

This is absolute fucking bullshit. He can’t believe that fucking prick is railing his sister. He can’t believe that petty fucking asshole is dumb enough to show it off.

What the fuck? What the absolute fuck?

Keigo’s hand moves faster and he snarls as he twists his wrist, as pre-cum spills all over his fingers.

Touya doesn’t fucking deserve that cute lil pussy. Touya doesn’t deserve to rail you with your sweet ass and mewling moan and hot little whines. Touya doesn’t fucking deserve you at all.

It doesn’t cross his mind for one moment how wrong the whole situation is. It doesn’t cross his mind that he should be disgusted over a brother fucking his little sister, that he should be disgusted over the way Touya hisses promises of fucking breeding his little sister’s cunt.

If he’s disgusted it’s only because he’s not the one fucking you- that Touya got to you first.

Oh, Touya is going to fucking regret this.

He’s going to fucking ruin you.

Keigo hisses as he cums and he growls as Touya’s stupid fucking lips quirk into a smirk on the screen, snarls and throws his phone down onto the bed as his hips jerk and pound against his fist.

“Fucking bitch! Stupid fucking whore!”

No wonder you were so goddamn shy. No wonder you didn’t sit in his lap like you should’ve. It wasn’t him- it was you; it was Touya.

The beer bottle gets swiped to the floor and Keigo growls as he rips his hand from his pants and scrubs the cum on his sheets.

Touya’s going to fucking pay for this.

Keigo saves the video and he scowls as he does- face dark, teeth gritted, stormy plans of revenge brewing in his mind.

#touya todoroki x reader #tw incest #tw breeding kink #it took me forever to finish this but god i do love this concept :'3

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 10

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10

Hot on your trails, Billy followed you to the women’s bathroom. When the bathroom attendant chastised him for barging in there, he shot her an irritated glance. “You want to help her puke?” Billy asked pointedly as you ran to the toilet. The attendant put her hands up in the air and moved back, leaving him to take care of you. He pulled your hair back, holding the strands away from your face while you retched.

You groaned, sounding like you were dying.

“I know. It sucks. Just let it out. You’ll feel better,” he consoled, rubbing your back.

“Didn’t… even…drink… so… much… want… to… die…”

He chuckled.

“I’m sorry… don’t want you to see me like this…”

“I’ve seen worse,” Billy assured. Serving as long as he had with the guys from his unit, puke was nothing new to him. He flushed the toilet using his foot after you’d finally stopped gagging. After he helped you to the sink and you washed your face and hands thoroughly, he patted your face dry with napkins. There were a bunch of supplies on one corner of the table. Spotting the mouthwash, Billy picked up the bottle, handing the attendant a $50 bill, and brought it to you. You rinsed your mouth while he studied your reflection in the mirror. “You okay?”

You nodded your head ‘yes’, almost like a child. You were usually so calm and collected around him that it was strange to see you ruffled like this. Actually, it was adorable.

When he saw you close your eyes, he snaked his hand around your waist in case you lost your balance again.

“I want to go home,” you mumbled, turning around in his arms.

“I’ll take you.”

Your eyes were wet and glassy, filled with sleep. You gazed up at him with the dopiest expression on your face and if you hadn’t just puked, he would have kissed you. He was used to feeling all kinds of emotions when it came to you, lust, anger, frustration and so much more, but this was the first time he felt a pang of tenderness towards you and he didn’t know what to make of it. This wasn’t something he was familiar with at all.

“I have to tell Davina. She’ll worry.”

Smoothing your hair, he tucked in a loose strand behind your ear. “Want to go say bye?”

You nodded your head.

Billy held you in his arms as he led you back upstairs to the club, stopping at one of the bars to grab water for you. He spotted Davina sitting at the booth, talking to some guy, but she stood up immediately when she caught sight of him and you. Billy noted the immediate disapproval on her face. Frankly he didn’t give a fuck about what your friends thought of him but he knew how close you were to Davina. Her opinion mattered to you, and so he had to play nice and learn to get along with her.

Davina stood up and met Billy and you halfway, her eyes full of concern. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“I think I’m done,” you sighed. “I want to go home.”

“I’ll go with you,” Davina offered. “Let me just grab Kiran from the dance floor-”

“No, you stay. Have fun with your cute guy.”

Billy scowled. Apparently you weren’t so drunk that you didn’t notice other guys. “I’ll take her home,” he said, tightening his grip around your waist.

Davina cast him a suspicious glance before shifting his attention back to you. “You don’t have to go with him. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m not going to rape her when she’s asleep if that’s what you’re worried about,” he snapped, trying - and failing - to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“He won’t, he’s not like that,” you assured, shaking your head vigorously.

So you were angry enough to block him but at least you still trusted him. That was something, he supposed. “Can I take her home now? Or are we gonna keep discussing if I’m a rapist?”

You turned to look up at him, your intoxicated eyes pleading with him. “Can we leave?”

Davina grabbed his elbow, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you dare touch her when she’s wasted!”

“I won’t. Unless she begs me to,” he smirked, purposely goading your friend. Even though he had no intention of taking advantage of you when you were hammered, he felt no need to justify his motives or actions to another person. Before Davina pissed him off any further, he started leading you out of the club. You were resting your head on his chest while he retrieved your jacket from coat check. When he wrapped the coat around you, you snuggled into the fabric and moved away from him.

It was freezing cold outside and you started shivering. Immediately he pressed you flush against him to keep you warm. As the two of you walked down the street, his eyes fell on the very high heels you were wearing. “You okay to walk on those? My car is a block away.”

“Do you like my shoes?”

He smiled, indulging you. “They’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Like you!”

“Did you just compare me to your shoes?”

“As if,” you snickered, your voice simultaneously naughty and sweet. “My shoes mean a lot more to me than you.”

“Bitch!” he scoffed.

As you giggled in response, his attention was drawn to the low-cut neckline of your outfit beneath your open coat. God, your tits looked absolutely amazing tonight. He was struck by the memory of the time he’d made you come by simply sucking on your nipples, teasing them with his tongue, and you had spent the entire time moaning underneath him. You fucking loved it almost as much as when he ate you out. Billy gave himself a mental shake, telling himself to snap out of it. “How come you never dress like this when we go out?” he asked, hoping for a distraction.

The smile on your face disappeared, you didn’t say anything. You were quiet, too quiet. He didn’t like it when you were all in your head with your thoughts, shutting yourself off to him. The last time you did that, you stormed out of his life and blocked him. Fuck if he was going to let you do that again. Reaching for your hand, he laced his fingers through yours.

“We never went out. All we ever did was have sex.”

He flashed a cocky smile. “Oh, yeah.” He squeezed your hand. “I miss that.”

“What? Sex?” You sniggered. “It can’t have been that long. When was the last time you slept with someone?”

“A week ago, with you.” He felt your body tense at his answer. “And then you told me to fuck off and stopped taking my calls.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. “Guess it wasn’t as great for you as it was me.”

You didn’t respond, quiet again, and he didn’t feel like pressing the matter in case you got angry.

Finally reaching his car, he opened it remotely. “Y/N, look at me.” You turned to him, staring up at him all doe-eyed again. “You can’t get sick in my car.” He palmed your face, trying to impress upon you the importance of his words. The Wraith was the first thing he’d bought when he finally started earning enough money and it meant the world to him. Next to Anvil, it was his most treasured possession. “Okay?”

You glanced at the car, exhaling a heavy sigh. “I should call an Uber.”

“No, I’m taking you home. You just can’t puke in my car.”

You turned back to him, frowning. “But I might and I don’t want to ruin it.” You pulled out your phone. “I’ll just call-”

He snatched the phone away from you, sliding it stealthily inside his jacket pocket. “Fine. Don’t worry about it. I can get it cleaned.” He walked to the passenger side and held the door open for you. Seeing how hesitant and worried you appeared, Billy regretted broaching the subject in the first place. “Hey,” he stroked your right cheek. “It’s not a big deal, I swear.” He noticed you swaying on your feet without his support and he moved to help you get in the car, covering the top of your head so you didn’t hit it against the roof.

A few minutes later he’d maneuvered the car out of the parking space and was on his way to your place.

Casting you a side-long glance, he noticed you had removed your jacket, which now lay bunched around your waist, and your head was leaned back against the passenger seat. Your eyes were closed, but he knew you weren’t asleep.

“You keep staring at me,” you finally spoke, turning slightly to look at him.

Billy’s eyes trailed down to your breasts again and he felt that familiar ache in his cock. “Maybe I miss you.”

Your mouth parted slightly, like you were contemplating what to say next. “Liar.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I am lying. I don’t miss your voice, your body, your smell, your laugh.” Maintaining a steady tone, he stared straight ahead. “I don’t miss the taste of your sweet cunt, or the filthy moans out of your mouth when I’m sucking your clit. I don’t miss how good you feel when I’m inside you and you’re begging me to fuck you harder.” Coming to a stop at a red light, he shifted his attention to you. Your breathing was shallow, your piercing gaze locked with his. “I don’t miss how you always razz me, how snarky you are, how you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking. I hate when you come into a room and put on your charming act, everyone just gravitates towards you like you’re a fucking ray of sunshine or something. I hate how fucking brilliant you are, how smart. Your mind doesn’t fascinate me at all, and I don’t spend any of my fucking time thinking about what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

Billy noticed how you swallowed thickly, how you were squeezing your thighs together. Your skin was flushed, your breaths coming out in shallow spurts.

“I don’t want you. I don’t like you. I don’t miss you,” he murmured, his voice rasp with lust.

His words had the desired effect. You couldn’t take it anymore. Desperate to get off, your hand slipped between your thighs and you started rubbing yourself.

“Take off your fucking pants,” he growled. “I want to see your pussy. Want to see how wet you are.”

“Can’t… one-piece…”

As frustrated as he was at not being able to do what he wanted, he was still mesmerized by what you were doing to yourself. Your quiet moans had grown louder, more desperate. It was heaven watching you come undone. It was also sheer hell because he couldn’t fuck you himself.

As if reading his mind, you shifted closer, your body facing him. His eyes drifted down to your breasts again, barely covered, and he reached out to touch them. His fingers delved beneath the fabric of your top to tweak your nipples, playing with them, caressing them, until they were hardened nubs, ready to be sucked and licked by him. His mouth watered at the sight of your puckered nipples. God, he was so fucking hard.

Then you took his hand and guided it down to your cunt, urging him to play with you. He felt how wet you were through your clothes, you were so fucking turned on. He rubbed your pussy expertly, tapping and teasing your clit, and the guttural moans that were coming from your mouth only aroused him more. With you, even dry humping was hot.

It only took a few more seconds for you to come, and when you did you were all soft murmurs and tender sighs and it took everything he had not to pull you onto his lap and fuck you right then and there.

His hand crept up to your breast, resting over your heart as you slowly returned to the world. When you opened your eyes again to look at him, they were brimming with emotions. “Thank you.”

He smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“I owe you a blow job.”

His eyebrow quirked up. “Suck me off because you want to, not because you think you owe me.”

The innocence displayed in your smile completely belied your wicked words. “I like sucking you off.”

His hand reached out to play with your hair. “Good.” He winked at you. “Feel free to start any second now.”

“I’m not blowing you when you’re driving! I want to get home alive.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, pouting.

You simply smirked in response.

Soon, a comfortable quiet fell over the two of you which was an unusual experience for Billy. Years of working recon meant waiting, watching, studying the enemy, the atmosphere charged and tense before chaos struck and the inevitable happened. But this was different. The tension was sexual, the dread non-existent. There was just him and you, and it was perfect.

Your phone buzzed in the inside pocket of his jacket, which made him wonder if the loser you’d been talking to was now calling you. Fucker really had no game if he was calling you so quickly. Eager prick.

“Did you mean it?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“What you said in the club. About killing the guy who was hitting on me.”

Apparently you could read his thoughts now. “Every fucking word.”

You sat up, your eyes fiery and volatile. “You have no right to interfere in my life, Billy.”

“I have every right.”

“How would you feel if I started harassing you about the women you sleep with? What if I went all psycho on them?”

He turned into the parking lot of your building and parked his car at a visitor’s spot. After unbuckling his belt, he turned to you, fisting the back of your head. Your breath hitched in your throat, like you weren’t prepared for his close proximity. “Ask me, Y/N. Ask me how many women I’m fucking.” He waited for you to speak, to ask the question, but, instinctively, he knew you wouldn’t. “You’re not going to ask me, because the truth scares you.”

“Of course it scares me!” you snapped. “I have no idea if you’re using condoms with these other women, if you’re exposing me to god knows what.”

Your defensive tone meant he was getting close to the truth. His fingers started playing with your right ear. “If I’m only fucking you, and I only want you, then you can’t use me as an excuse to run from us anymore. Terrifying, isn’t it?”

Fear flashed across your face, all your emotions on display for him to read.

Billy leaned back and winked at you, smiling smugly. Jackpot.

Part 11

A/N - Thank you so much for your continued support! I hope you guys are still reading and enjoying the fic. As always, thank you for the likes, reblogs, the comments that I cherish so much and your asks/messages. If you’d like to be add/removed from the tag list, please drop me a note.

Tag List:

@yourfavoritefruitybitch @voyevoda-thejoy @adreamemporium @queenmalhinewahine @gubleryum @galaxyjane @xceafh @maralisa124 @tomhollandisabae @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lil-baby-nor @all-art-is-quite-useless @tanyaherondale @nashibirne @dour-trash @thetallassgirl @athenamikaelson @agent-jbarnes @primadonnasdream @aleksanderwh0r3 @elisemockingbird @nihilismworld @archisur @nemesis729 @lysawayne @kaqua @ladyblablabla @lemasonda @advictedtohim @24-martie @tarkanelima-blog @shinebrightlikeafanbase @krystal-clear1 @damalseer @dontjinx-it @darkishx @wanderlusting-about-life @thatguppienamedbae @happypepperdog @bat-revival @sassygirl25 @consulting--heroes @the-celestial-kitsune @mackaywhore @ablxssm @competitive-dust @red-head011 @exo-1204 @sunsetenigma @millieb-3199 @chatnain @licensedcheek @tinkertailor1212 @vertesalope @safetyhtom @acourtofglassandroses @eliwinchester-barnes @finnismyoriginalsin @weallhaveadestiny @beananacake @beauty-and-the-beast97 @smurfelle @fire-treasure-iii @charly-0 @kestrafagnor @pigwidgeonxo @damagelove @allegra-writes @pensandthings @jad3djay @batshitbarnes @kashimayuki @secretsthathauntus @odetostep @awesome-eccia @mackaywhore @stories-you-wont-hear @vvsdiamond28 @supernaturalcat7 @arieltwvdtohamflash @iknownoqueenbutthequeeninme @devs-stufff @ticosas @moodacheeks @myakai13 @carlywhomever @fvckthisbxtchup @its-evita-here @papapapadumb @talesfrommycell @bat-luna-cat @fific7 @elluvians @dailydoseofchoices @everythinghappens-love @papapapadumb @mylife-love-and-other-things @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @ancientbeing10 @natty2245 @stuckysavedmylive @kasslucilfer @simp-for-ben-barners @originaldeputycalzoneegg @bdffkierenwalker @kimoranelson03 @sadbi-hours

Gif Credit: @bilyrusso

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #the punisher

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter eight rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

“He’s such a dick!” Peter exclaimed, flopping on his bed with a huff. You laid down next to him and ran your fingers through his soft hair, feeling him relax immediately under your touch.

“What did Flash do today?” You sighed. This was a pretty common point of conversation between you and Peter. Flash always found a way under Peters skin and you were always the one to dig him out.

“He said I photoshopped our pictures together on Instagram. And he said you’d never even look at me, even if I was, and I quote, “waiting your table on your date with him”. He’s such a dick! You do look at me.” Peter protested. You sighed let out another sigh as you thought of an answer. You and Peter had been together for three glorious weeks and each of those weeks, Peter had Flash on his back about your relationship.

“Yes I do. And I love what I see.” You assured him. Peter smiled slightly, too angry to fully appreciate the compliment.

“He tells everyone I’m lying about us being together. I didn’t even tell people, Ned did. And when I said I was gonna take the day off of school to spend our one month anniversary together, he said it was probably just gonna be me alone in my room reading your articles and crying because you’d never give me the time of day.” Peter scoffed. “I wish he would believe me. I hate constantly having to defend our relationship.”

Not knowing what to tell him, you kissed his cheeks and rolled onto his chest. Your one month anniversary was just a week away and two planned on spending every second together to commemorate the event.

“Take my mind off of him, please.” He pouted as he dragged his pinkie down your nose. “What’s new in my beautiful girlfriends life?”

You two absentmindedly compared hand sizes before locking your fingers together.

“I have my final interview with Cletus next week. Then I really gotta finish my story.” You told him.

“You’ll get it done.” He said confidently. “You’re so efficient. When’s it due?”

“Three weeks.” You answered.

“You know what that means.” Peter said. You nodded.

“Balls to the walls.” You said at the same time he said “Pedal to the metal.”

You giggled and he laughed loudly.

“I like how I made a crude reference and you made one about flowers. It really highlights our personalities.” You pointed out. Peter cocked his head.

“Flowers?” He questioned.

“Yea. Petals. Petal to the medal.” You said. Peter burst out laughing, making the whole bed shake. He flipped you over so you were in your back now with him on top.

“Aw baby no.” He laughed. “It’s pedal to the metal, not petal to the metal. Why would you push petals against metal?”

“I don’t know. Why would you put your balls to the wall?” You shot back.

“I personally wouldn’t put my balls against any wall.” Peter said matter of factly. Him saying something so out of character made you snort with laughter. You immediately covered your mouth and burned red.

“That was the grossest sound. I’m so sorry.” You said with hands still covering your face.

“Don’t be sorry. I love all your sounds.” Peter said as he moved your hands to plant kisses on your face. He started with kisses on your cheeks and slowly moved down to your neck. This was new territory for the both of you so let out a soft giggle to show it was okay.

“I like that sound too.” Peter said as he perked his head up. You smiled fondly and it gave him the confidence to keep going. He placed more hot kisses down your neck and you let out another soft sound.

“I like that sound as well.” He laughed into your neck. His lips found their way under your ear in just the right place.

“Peter.” You breathed. He stopped and looked at you. His eyes were full of something you’d never seen before. Pure love and adoration for you. But it wasn’t the puppy love you were used to seeing with him. It was adult love. Committed love. You looked him deep in the eyes and nodded. Without saying a word, you both agreed to take the next step and solidify your love for each other.

That night, you and Peter laid awake and just stared each other. Neither of you said a word. Everything had already been said that night in his bed. You absentmindedly ran your fingers over his lips as he twirled your hair around his finger. You loved him. You wanted so badly to tell him. But Peter was a teenage boy. He just experienced his first time and you don’t want to overwhelm him with his first “I love you” as well. But from the way Peter was looking at you, you knew he knew how you felt.

“I want you to meet my boss.” Peter spoke suddenly with a dreamy smile on his face. “He’s my mentor and basically my father. He’s very important to me and so are you. I want us all to have dinner together. Let’s do it tomorrow night. He’s gonna love you.”

“I’d love to meet him.” You smiled. And you meant it. Peter barely gave any details about his internship. You didn’t even know his bosses name. You cuddled in closer to Peter and felt absolute happiness all throughout your body. He felt it too. Peter Parker was over the moon with joy. He had never been happier.

The next day after school, Peter practically ran down the steps to greet you. He was still on a high from the night before. You were running slightly late and Peter stood in your usually spot and waited for you.

“Whats wrong, Penis Parker? Did Iron Man forget to pick you up today?” Flash teased. Peter turned his back to him.

“No. If you must know, Y/n is picking me up. She’s just a little late.” Peter grumbled. Flash laughed tauntingly.

“Right, Y/n. Is she gonna pick you up on her unicorn and take you on a date at Avengers Tower?” Flash mocked. Peter just ignored him.

“I can’t blame you for pretending to date her though. She’s so hot. I’d like to take her out and show her a good time. Better than you ever could, Penis Parker.” He continued.

“She’s not hot Flash, she’s beautiful. She’s a girl, not a cup of tea.” Peter retorted. Flash’s cheeks heated up at Peters comeback.

“Whatever. I’d still bang her. Even if she was a cup of tea.” Flash scoffed Peters blood began to boil. He wanted to kill Flash for even thinking about you.

“Me too. That girl is straight up glorious. I’d let her do anything she wanted to me, I swear.” One on Flash’s idiot friends chimed in. Peter shot him the death glare. It was getting increasingly harder to stand there and listen to those idiots degrade you.

“You’re disgusting. Show some respect.” Peter said lowly. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. Little did Peter know, your super hearing allowed you to hear the whole conversation as you approached his school. An idea formed in your head.

A nice size crowd had gathered around Peter and Flash’s goons. Peter tapped his foot and waited for your arrival.

“Aw. Penis Parker wants us to show his imaginary girlfriend some respect.” Flash laughed. At that moment, you pulled up on your bike and swiftly took off your helmet. Shocked murmurs swept throughout the crowd. Most stunned of all was Flash, who looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head. All eyes were on you. Peter noticed Flash’s reaction and smirked.

“Hi baby. I’m sorry I’m late. I’m having trouble getting around after last night.” You said apologetically and shot Peter a wink. You had practiced it in your head. Peters face broke out in an embarrassed smile as boys began to pat him on the back. A few even applauded.

“It’s alright, darling.” Peter said, stepping towards you. You smirked and gave him a big sloppy kiss. It was way more PDA than you were used to but you knew it’d give Peter enough street credit for the rest of college.

“Let’s go babe. Bye Flush.” You called and gave Flash a flirty little wave. If he was gonna call your boyfriend Penis, he was gonna get called Flush. Peter climbed on the back of your bike and you two sped away.

“Thanks for what you did back there. I hate how disgusting those guys are. I’m sorry they were objectifying you.” Peter apologized once you were back in his room.

“It’s alright. It happens.” You shrugged.

“But it shouldn’t. And did you see how they all acted when you kissed me? Like all the sudden I was cool because you were my girlfriend? Don’t get me wrong, you’re incredibly hot and I’m incredibly lucky to have you. But what they don’t understand is, there’s a million reasons why I’m lucky to have you.” Peter sighed angrily. “Your beauty doesn’t even crack the top ten. There’s so much to you. So much grandeur and depth and they just reduced you to a pretty face. It pisses me off.”

You smiled at his kind words and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck

“Peter, I don’t care what a single one of those bonehead boys had to say.” You shrugged. “I only care about you. Those boys at your school are just jealous that you actually have a brain in your head and a heart in your chest when they don’t. Don’t let them get to you. And thank you for all that you said. I really care about you, Peter.”

You wanted to tell him you loved him, but you chickened out. You had only ever said it to Andy.

“I really care about you too.” Peter smiled before kissing you. “Now come on, let’s work on your story.”

That night, you prepared to eat dinner at Peters bosses house. You wore a casual dress and did your hair in loose curls. You wanted to make a good impression on Peters mentor but you didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard. You took a cab, not wanting to ride your motorcycle and risk the helmet messing up either of your hair, to a wooden cabin near a lake. Peter knocked on the door and rubbed his hands together in excitement.

“Here we go.” He beamed at you.

The door opened and your body froze as your eyes landed on Tony Stark. The very Tony Stark who made you your suit. The very Tony Stark who knew you were Venom.

And apparently, the very Tony Stark who was your boyfriends boss.

Tony’s face fell when he looked at you and you felt sick to your stomach. Tony felt it to. He glanced from you, to Peter, to your interlocked hands, then back at you. Your eyes whispered an apology and looked equally as apologetic. He was sorry for how badly this would end when all the secrets were out.

“Come on in, kids. Dinners almost ready.” Tony said suddenly. Peter grinned at you and lead you inside. You faked a smile before giving Tony one last look.

Dinner went as awkwardly as you could imagine. You and Tony couldn’t keep your eyes off of each other. Peter was too excited about his two favorite people meeting to notice the tension in the air.

“Y/n is an investigative reporter.” Peter gushed in between bites.

“Is she?” Tony said, never looking away from you. You felt terrified by his stare.

“She took down Carlton Drake and soon she’s gonna take down Cletus Kasady.” Peter continued with a proud smile. He put his hand on your knee under the table and squeezed.

“Oh really?” Tony’s expression was unreadable. “How did you do it?”

You gulped. He knew exactly how you did it. You had told him the story the day you met.

“I just followed my instincts and didn’t let up until the truth was out.” You stammered. Tony nodded stiffly.

“Right. Y/n, will you join me in the lab? I got something that might help your story.” Tony announced. You felt fear run through your body, all the way to your scalp. You nodded and got up. Your legs were shaking and you prayed Peter didn’t notice.

“I’ll come.” Peter said, moving to stand up. Tony immediately turned around and held up a hand.

“You stay here, kid.” He kept a calm tone. “I just want a quick word with your girlfriend.” Peter sat back down with a smile on his face at the sound of someone referring to you as his girlfriend.

Once in the safety of the lab, you let out the breath you had been holding in all night. You looked anxiously at Tony, waiting for him to speak. He had his back to you, and was still deciding what to say.

“Does he know?” Tony asked suddenly. You shook your head even though Tony couldn’t see you.

“No, sir.” Your voice shook. “I haven’t told him.”

“Do you know about him?” Tony asked, turning to face you. Your face contorted in confusion.

“Do I know what about him?” You questioned. That’s when Tony’s face fell. He realized the extent of the situation. You and Peter were in love and Spider-Man and Venom were enemies. And neither of you knew the other’s secret identity. Tony’s heart broke for the young couple. He knew how much Peter loved you. He also knew how fragile Peter was. Tony wondered if the shock would hurt less if he made the teenagers confront each other sooner rather than later.

“Nothing.” He said quickly. “Here’s what I need from you, tell him the truth.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he held up his hand.

“I don’t want to hear it, Hannah Montana. You need to tell Peter about Venom, or I will. End of discussion.” Tony said sternly.

“But-“

“What did I say? End of discussion.” He repeated.

“But he’ll hate me.” You said sadly. Tony looked at you empathically, knowing you didn’t even know how bad it was.

“He’ll hate you more if you wait to tell him. You have to rip the bandaid off. And who knows, maybe he has secrets of his own.” Tony tried to hint to you. You stared at the floor, not wanting to go back to the dinning room to Peter. You wanted to avoid him, and the conversation, as long as you could.

“You don’t understand, Mr. Stark.” Your voice wavered. “The second I tell him, he’ll leave me. I’m not ready to lose him, I just got him.”

You didn’t want to cry in front of a man you idealized but your heart was breaking.

“You don’t know for sure that you’ll lose him. You need to tell him. Now. You know where he is.” Tony ordered. You could feel yourself beginning to cry no matter how hard you tried to fight it. It was that terrible feeling of needing to cry but feeling too embarrassed to.

“Don’t do that. I don’t want a crying teenage girl on my hands.” Tony said in response to your watering eyes.

“But I love him.” You whimpered. “I love him and I don’t want to lose him.”

Tony’s attention snapped to you. You had never seen Tony Stark at a loss for words before.

“You love him?” He asked. You nodded.

“With all my heart.” You said weakly.

“Have you ever told him that?” Tony asked.

“No.” You said shyly. It was an awkward thing to talk about with a man you barely knew.

Tony looked angry for a moment, then disheartened.

“This is going to crush him.” He muttered.

“I never wanted to hurt him, Mr. Stark. Please believe that. But no matter how much I wish for things to be different, they can’t be. This is who I am. I am…we are Venom. That won’t change.”

“You’ve already hurt him and you don’t even know it.” Tony sighed. You didn’t really understand what he meant.

“I know lying to him is bad.” You admitted. “But would it really be better if he knew? He’d just be afraid of me. I can’t have that.”

“You can’t have a relationship with someone who doesn’t really know you, either.” Tony reasoned

“I know. And I’ll tell him.” You promised. “Just, not yet. I can’t lose him just yet.”

Tony looked at you for a long time and sighed.

“Fine. I’ll give you one week. If you don’t tell him by then, I will.” Tony said firmly. You nodded sadly.

“Okay.” You wiped a tear that had managed to fall. “I’ll tell him.”

“You better. Now let’s go back in there and give him the best night of his life. He deserves that much.” Tony said and you agreed.

You two went back out and ate dessert with Peter. You did your best to enjoy and decide of it, knowing your time with Peter was almost up.

Peter enjoyed his evening to the fullest extent and never suspected a thing. You’d sneak glances at Tony every now and then and he was always staring back.

“I had the best time. Thank you Mr. Stark.” Peter said as you two got ready to leave.

“Yes, thank you Mr. Stark. It was a pleasure to meet you.” You shook Tony’s hand. He shook yours back firmly, both of you knowing you had already met.

“Anytime. And Y/n, good luck. I’m rooting for you.” Tony said honestly. You gave him a thankful nod.

“Good luck with what?” Peter asked.

“My story.” You answered quickly. “On Cleatus.”

You ushered Peter out the door and gave Tony one last look. He nodded at you and held up one finger. You gulped.

This was going to be the worst week of your life.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction

456 notes · View notes

xanasaurusrex · 3 years

Text

Light - B.M.

Pairing: Beverly Marsh x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1918 words

Warnings: Love confession, mutual pining, swimming, swearing, Richie Tozier (it’s a warning within itself), kissing, tooth-rotting fluff I stg, Losers Club are aged up to 17, super crappy ending, not proofread, I think that’s it! Please let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: The other Losers know for a fact that Bev returns Y/N’s feelings, even though she’s blind to them herself. But after a set up one day, maybe she’ll see the light.

Notes: My first ever It (2017) fic! Also my first fic on Tumblr! Thank you to anyone who read this, because it’s taking a lot of courage to write this, let alone post it…. Yeah, Bev and Richie are my favorite characters in the movies, and, given my url, I figured my first fic should be a Bev fic! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

******

“She likes you back, Y/N,”

“No she doesn’t.”

“Stop fighting it, we all see it!”

Y/N looked at Richie with a roll of her eyes, turning back forward to avoid crashing into anyone or anything with her bike. “Can you stop with that? I don’t want you giving me false hope when I know she doesn’t like me back,”

Richie was the one to roll his eyes this time.

Everyone in the Losers Club knew that Y/N had had a crush on Bev for as long as they could all remember. Since the first day she saw Bev in the pharmacy after they found Ben outside the sewers and had gone in to find the supplies to fix him up.

Bev had been the one to save the day. She had distracted the man at the counter while they took the things they needed, and had come back afterwards to make sure that Ben was okay. Of course, Y/N had realized that it was not the time to be admiring Bev, seeing as Ben had just had a pretty rough run-in with Bowers, and Eddie was freaking out enough as it was.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to fall completely in love with the red-headed Derry resident. She lived in the apartment above hers, and whenever Bev’s dad fell asleep, Bev would climb down the fire escape and climb into Y/N’s window.

Y/N would sit with her and listen to what she said, or would just sit there, and the girls would hug.

On those nights when Bev either couldn’t go down to Y/N’s apartment, or didn’t need to, Y/N would lay down, and stare up at the ceiling, knowing that Bev’s room was directly above her own. She would wonder what Bev was doing, if she was reading the secret admirer note that Ben had given her, or if she was thinking of Y/N just as much as she was thinking of Bev.

It was torture.

It took a little longer for the other members of the Losers Club to realize that Y/N was falling in love with Bev. After that, they all began encouraging her to confess to Bev, because even though at the time they hadn’t seen the light that ignited in Bev’s eyes the second they landed on Y/N, they wanted their friends to be happy, and who else to be happy with but each other?

That was all when they were twelve, nearly five years ago. In that time, they had all seen that Bev loved Y/N the same way Y/N loved Bev. It was hard to watch the two beat around the bush with each other; subtle flirting that neither one noticed (though everyone else did), and even harder to see them think that the other was in love with other people, though everyone else thought it was painfully obvious to everyone else that it was each other they were in love with.

Now, as Y/N and Richie biked home together, Richie tried his best to convince Y/N for the thousandth time that Bev liked her back, no, loved her back.

“I’m sorry Rich, I want to believe you, I really do,” Y/N said for the thousandth time. “But you’ve gotta be blind to not see that Bev and Bill are in love with each other,”

Richie quickly realized that he didn’t have enough energy to argue with her today, even though he still wanted to, instead opting for a safer topic: the test that Mr. Herrd gave them today, that Richie was fairly sure he had failed.

***

“They’re both fuckin idiots,”

Everyone nodded in agreement at Richie’s statement as the entire Losers Club watched Y/N and Bev play around and splash each other in the lake in the quarry, both of them giggling like little girls, their cheeks bright pink, and not from the sun.

“Bev!” Y/N squealed as Bev splashed her with a particularly large amount of water. After taking a second to regain herself, she retaliated by splashing an even larger amount of water at Bev.

“It’s like they’re both wearing signs saying, ‘I’m in love with the person standing in front of me, but since I’m both a pussy and an idiot, I haven’t said anything yet,”

Stan rolled his eyes at Richie’s language, but agreed nonetheless. “I wish they would just admit it to each other already. To be honest, it’s getting tiring. Should we just… lock them in a room together and not let them leave until they confess?”

“That’s an idea,” Bill smiled.

“Maybe we should say we’re meeting at the Quarry but then none of us show up,” Eddie suggested. “Chances are they’re gonna stay and hang out, and maybe if we’re lucky they’ll say something?”

Richie scoffed. “Knowing them, fat chance. I think if this plan fails, we should go with Stan’s idea,”

The others all agreed, and decided when the best date would be to set this up, and then set the date for their backup plan, and decided they would do it at Bill’s house, since his is the biggest and they would be able to hang around and check in on them regularly without having to hear them kick and scream.

“You guys coming back?” Y/N broke the boys out of their trance after her and Bev realized that they had been splashing each other for nearly fifteen minutes, when they should have been splashing the boys. “We’re getting bored!”

The boys all gave each other a sly look before immediately running back towards the water, splashing Bev and Y/N immediately, all of them laughing as they got splashed back.

***

“Are they coming?”

Bev and Y/N had been at the Quarry for nearly half an hour, both of them laying against the rocks, sunbathing, in just their bikinis. It took everything in both of them not to stare at the other and admire everything about them.

Y/N glanced at the watch that she had taken off her wrist, anticipating that they’d be swimming, and saw that it was now forty five minutes after noon, the time all the Losers had agreed to be at the Quarry.

Y/N sighed. “I don’t think so. Maybe they all forgot?”

Bev laughed. “You think Stan forgot? He’s probably at Richie’s with the others trying to get Richie out of bed. How much d’you wanna bet he stayed up all night on his Gameboy again, and now he’s sleeping the day away?”

She said the last part in a mock-dreamy way, a tone of voice that had Y/N’s heart soaring. She had always loved the sound of Bev’s voice, and there were certain times when it would just go straight to tug on Y/N’s heartstrings. It was never a particular time, just… Bev.

Everything about Bev was magical to Y/N. Somehow, all it took was one small smile, one of Bev’s smiles, and all of a sudden, Y/N was a completely different person.

Normally, she didn’t really like physical contact. It wasn’t anything in particular that had caused it, she just never was a really cuddly person. She could enjoy a short hug, or a quick high five, but anything longer than about three seconds made her uncomfortable

She wasn’t that way with Bev. Y/N would hug her for eternity, and would never want to stop. The two often held hands, and told everyone else that it was purely platonic, though Y/N secretly wished that it would be something more.

Y/N knew that Bev was still talking, but she couldn’t focus on anything more than the way that Bev’s lips were moving, as they moved quickly and perfectly to form the words that were on Bev’s brain.

The conscious, realistic part of Y/N’s brain told her that she should be focusing on what her friend was actually saying. That in just a few seconds, Bev was going to do the thing that they always did in movies where she waved her hand in front of Y/N’s face and asked if she had heard anything she said.

Sure enough, she did.

“Y/N/N, are you even listening to me?” Bev asked with a small chuckle.

The sound alone sent more heat to Y/N’s cheeks.

“S-sorry,” Y/N said quickly, shaking her head, almost as if that would clear her head of the thoughts she shouldn’t be having about her best friend. “Just uh… feeling a little out of it today, that’s all,”

Bev nodded in understanding. “Yeah. Today just… feels weird.”

Y/N nodded in agreement.

The two stayed silent for a few more minutes, before Y/N sat up again. “So, since the boys aren’t coming, we probably shouldn’t wait for them to start swimming, right?”

Bev nodded in agreement, before jumping up and running towards the water, yelling, “Last one in the water is a dancing clown!” behind her, before immediately splashing into the water, getting to a deep enough area, and diving in.

Y/N cursed herself, and then immediately launched herself into the water after Bev, inadvertently splashing her with water as she came out of the water herself at the perfect time.

“Got you!”

***

Y/N shook the water droplets out of her hair, refraining from watching as Bev dried out her own hair, slipping the loose dress that she had brought with her over the bikini that she had worn.

It was now five forty five, and Y/N was going to be expected home for dinner soon. After realizing this, she had reluctantly told Bev that she needed to head home.

Since they lived in the same apartment complex, Bev said she’d go with her.

The sunlight from the sunset bounced off the lake and onto the two girls standing on the beach next to the lake in the Quarry.

Y/N couldn’t help herself this time. She looked up to Bev, and found that she was staring at her the same way, admiring how the golden light danced across her skin, from the top of her coppery red curls to the very bottom of her feet.

Before she could even process what she was doing, Y/N quickly closed the space between her and Bev, pressing her lips against Bev’s.

It only took Bev two seconds to kiss back, relieved that Y/N had been the one to make the first move.

After a few seconds, they realized that they needed air, so the two reluctantly pulled apart, resting their foreheads together.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Y/N whispered breathlessly.

“It was love at first sight, wasn’t it?” Bev asked. “I saw you with the boys and I knew that it was always going to be you. It’s always been you, Y/N,”

“It’s always been you, Bev,”

The two pulled apart, Bev’s arms still wrapped around Y/N’s neck, Y/N’s hands placed lovingly on Bev’s waist. As she looked into Bev’s eyes, she saw a glint in her eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

The light made Bev’s eyes even brighter than they already were, and the longer Y/N looked at her, the more she fell in love.

“I love you, Bev,” she confessed quietly, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulder at the confession. “I always have.

#beverly marsh #beverly marsh x reader #bev marsh x reader #bev marsh #it 2017 #it chapter one #it fanfiction #losers club #richie tozier x platonic reader #not proofread #bad ending #x reader #beverly marsh x yn #bev marsh x yn #beverly marsh x y/n #bev marsh x y/n #x yn #x y/n

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ri-ahhh · 3 years

Note

hi can you write about spending a valentine’s day with gray pls?

valentine’s day smut w/ gray? + more haha sorry couldn’t put them all in

A/N: I’m sorry this is a day late. It was supposed to be 90% smut but somehow it took on a mind of its own and turned into this monster.

warnings: smut, extremely cheesy, way too long

***

It should be a given understanding that Valentine’s Day is the dumbest, most antiquated, overrated holiday that’s ever existed. That had always been your take on it, even as a little kid — the worry of spelling your classmates’ names correctly on cards imprinted with cheesy Scooby Doo and Spongebob puns; the expectation to dress up nice in the hopes you would get asked to be someone’s Valentine in the hallways of middle school; the potential embarrassment of being the only person in class who didn’t get bought one of those stupid roses from a ‘secret admirer’ in high school.

There’s simply too much pressure surrounding the idea of professing your love or even your mere fondness for anyone and everyone in your life. The fear of rejection if you do, and the judgement if you don’t. It had always made you anxious, whether you had someone to share the day with or not.

But this Valentine’s Day, as a young twenty-something, you were actually (secretly) looking forward to it. Conner was your first adult relationship, with the title of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ and labels and commitment. He’s cute and smart and charming and yours. So, sue you if you were quietly anticipating wearing that SavageXFenty set beneath a brand new dress while you went to dinner after being greeted at the door with roses and a box of chocolates.

And yet here you are, on February 14th, hood of your sweater drawn over your head as you rummage through your freezer with a clear target in your mind. Your eyes are blurry and swollen, but you find the pint of birthday cake Nada Moo with ease, and you slam the freezer door closed a little harder than you really mean to as soon as it’s in your grasp.

You’ve just popped the lid off when your phone buzzes on the kitchen counter where you’ve plopped down to eat your depression snack in a more acceptable place than your bed or the couch.

You see Grayson’s name accompanied by a goofy, up-close picture of him smiling filling the screen, and hesitate. He’s one of your best friends, and clearly done nothing wrong, but you’re not sure you’re capable of handling anyone of the male species right now after...everything.

At the end of the day, though, it’s Grayson. He knows heartbreak almost better than anyone, and you’ve coached him through it on more than one occasion. Maybe he can spew back some of your own advice if it comes to that.

You swipe the bar at the bottom of the screen, and your ceiling suddenly replaces the image of his silly, handsome face. “Sup?”

“Yo. Am I interrupting anything? Sorry, just remembered what day it is.”

You swallow. “Uh no, you’re not.”

“What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip hard, digging your spoon into the softened ice cream. Was it that obvious just from your voice that you had been upset? Or does he just know you that well?

“Nothing.”

“You sound like you’ve been crying.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie. Let me see your face.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you concede. “No. I’ve been crying.”

He’s quiet, and you can’t bring yourself to look at his own face in the corner of the screen. You shove the chunk of ice cream past your lips, and after a moment he says with a softer tone, “Crying on Valentine’s Day is never a good sign.”

You’re glad that you’ve gotten so much of your tears out already, because you feel the inevitable prickle behind your eyes that would have been full-blown waterworks a few hours ago. You scoop another bite. “Conner cheated on me — has been, cheating on me. I found out last night.”

Grayson sighs your name, and something about the genuine sympathy in his voice makes you even more emotional. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. What a piece of shit.”

You shrug even though he can’t see, and sniffle past the lump in your throat. “It’s whatever. I’m still in shock more than anything. Hurts like hell, though, still. I let him have it when I saw the texts and he hasn’t tried to call me once. No texts. Nothing.”

He’s silent, but it’s that raging silence you know oh so well from him. It doesn’t happen often, but anyone who knows Grayson Dolan knows that when his volume comes down, he means business. A loud and obnoxious Grayson is a happy one, but a brooding and quiet one means serious business.

“Do you want me to go beat his ass? I’ll do it.”

A smile cracks your scowl before you know it, and you shake your head. “No thanks, Gray. As much as I’d love to see that happen, I like your face the way it is. And not on a mugshot.”

He chuckles a little, and you feel your chest lift some just hearing the familiar depth of it. “Well, do you at least want me to come over later? I totally get if you need to be alone, but I know from experience sometimes what helps the most is having good friends around.”

You’re a little surprised. “You don’t have a date?”

“Nope.”

“No one from the roster hitting you up?”

“I don’t have a roster,” he argues playfully, but you both know that’s a lie, if not at least a stretch of the truth. “And even if I did, you’re more important. Always.”

You sigh and take another bite. His words make your neck tingle and your toes wiggle, but you ignore it; your brain is full of confusion as it is. “That makes one man in my life who thinks so, I guess.”

You finally prop your phone up against the fruit basket sitting in the middle of your bar so he can see you. Grayson takes in your image, which admittedly must look kind of pathetic, and you watch his jaw clench and release in a way that you can’t deny is utterly sexy.

“Is an hour okay? Tell Vanessa to come, too.”

“Benito took her to Tulum for the weekend,” you say, referring to your best friend and her boyfriend. “She did threaten to get on a plane and come home early for me, though.”

Grayson grins crookedly, but his jaw is still tight. “Well, tell her you’re in good hands. See you in an hour?”

You give it one last quick consideration; you already feel this much better just talking to him on the phone. Nothing bad could come from him being in your apartment, and you trust him. “Yeah, that’s fine. But just so you know, I’m already at the stage of eating ice cream at 10:30 AM.”

“Did you forget you’re talking to the emotional ice cream eating champion? No judgement here.”

You finally let out a giggle, your spirits officially lifted. “I’ll see you soon.”

True to his word, Grayson arrives at your door about an hour later, his arms laden with milkshakes from Monty’s, a gift bag decorated all over with sparkly hearts, and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

You’re stunned. The only thing you’d managed to do in the time it took him to get here was take a quick shower in attempts to rid your face of some of the puffiness, throw on some shorts this time with a fresh hoodie, and toss the used tissues scattered around your place into the garbage.

Before you can say anything, he holds out the flowers. “They were out of roses. But I know you like pink.”

You reach out for them slowly, eyes wide, your fingers brushing his when you grasp the plastic wrapping. His cheeks are a similar color to the petals, and it makes both your heart and your lips smile.

“Peonies are my favorite,” you say truthfully. “And yes, especially pink ones. Thank you, Gray.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, sounding relieved.

As he crosses the threshold of your door, he leans down to kiss your cheek, and you can’t help but hum quietly and pull him in for a hug. “That gift better not be for me, either,” you mumble into his chest.

Grayson pulls back, his eyes sparkling, but keeps you close with an arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. “Oh, this? No, this is for my other best friend I’m trying to cheer up on Valentine’s Day.”

You slap his arm playfully, and lead him into your kitchen, pulling out a vase from the cabinet beneath your sink for the flowers.

The bag has a few gifts in it: a new Comfy (“I remembered you ruined yours when that ketchup bottle exploded all over you the other day”); a huge bag of watermelon sour patch kids (“I know they’re your favorite. Also ice cream gives you brain freeze after the first pint or so, trust me”); and a heart shaped box of your favorite chocolates (“you can eat them or burn them, I wasn’t sure which you’d appreciate more but either is fine with me.”)

You appreciated all of it, more than he would ever understand. All you can do is fling yourself at him weakly, completely overwhelmed. “Fuck you, you’re gonna make me cry all over again.”

Grayson envelops you in those huge, muscular arms, cooing behind that laugh you love so much. “Is that a really backwards way of saying thank you?”

You grunt in affirmation, and with you still wrapped up in his arms, he starts waddling the two of you back the short distance into your living room.

“Here,” he says, coaxing you down into the blanket nest you had created on the couch. “You chill and find a movie. I’ll make popcorn.”

You do, and he does, and the next few hours are spent lounging about in your apartment. Having him here with you is doing wonders from keeping your mind from going down the paths you’d been spiraling towards ever since you saw the messages between Conner and no less than four other girls on Snapchat. You don’t believe in snooping, but finding the first one had been an accident when he received the snap while you had his phone, and your finger happened to press the icon at just the right moment.

In your eyes, though, the image of one pair of tits that weren’t your own was enough justification to see what else you could find.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m kind of relieved,” you told Grayson a while later, Shrek playing on the TV quietly. He’s sitting next to you, far enough apart for there to be couch space between the two of you, but close enough to share the oversized blanket thrown over your laps. “Obviously what he did is so fucking shitty and I’m not justifying it in any way, but I can be honest with myself now and realize I wasn’t in that relationship for the right reasons. There wasn’t anything there emotionally at the end of the day.”

“You still have every right to feel hurt by what he did, though. It’s a huge violation of trust,” Grayson assures, reaching out and squeezing your hand gently.

You squeeze back and grimace at him. “Yeah.” You let out a little mirthless laugh and shake your head, heat flooding your cheeks. “It’s so embarrassing, too. And finding out the day before Valentine’s, no less. Like, I just wanted to look cute, have a nice dinner, have some nice sex, and just... I don’t know. Have an actual Valentine’s day for once. No pressure or anxiety or anything.”

Grayson stares at you in that way he does — so intense and almost intimidating if there wasn’t a genuine warmth behind it. You’re suddenly aware of his thumb brushing the back of your hand slowly. He squeezes your fingers again.

“So, let’s do it, then. You and me.”

You arch a brow at him, smiling at the rosiness in his cheeks when he realizes what he might have implied. “The dinner part, I mean. And the dressing up. Even though I think you look plenty cute right now.”

You roll your eyes, but for the countless time that day, your heart flutters happily. Looking back, you can’t remember the last time Conner had complimented your appearance, let alone after hours of crying and lazing around in sweats, sugar crystals stuck to the corner of your lip.

“That would be great, except there’s no way we’re getting into any restaurant at this point,” you remind him. “Probably no delivery, either.”

“I’ll cook for you,” he counters, throwing the blanket off his legs and standing up with a groan. He stops to stretch, and the way his arms go over his head makes his shirt ride up at the bottom, exposing a chunk of hard muscles and golden skin.

You swallow, eyes trailing up the rest of his torso appreciatively. “I don’t have much.”

He’s already rummaging through your pantry, though, and pulls out a half-full box of pasta, a jar of marinara sauce, and a leftover chunk of sourdough bread. “You got salad stuff?”

You nod, and he opens the fridge to find some lettuce, peppers, and other salad fixings before setting them with the pasta ingredients on the counter. “Go get dressed, look as cute or not cute as you want. I’ll take care of this.”

He’s absolutely unreal. “Gray-”

Grayson holds up his hand. “Ah, no, I’m doing this. You deserve it. Also, I’m hungry. It’s a win-win.”

Your stomach growls as well, and that’s all the convincing you need. While he gets busy in the kitchen, you tidy up the living area some before heading to your room. You feel a little silly, making your third outfit change of the day, but you also like the giddiness in the pit of your belly at the thought of Grayson doing all of this for you. You might as well take advantage of having someone like him in your life. Show him some Valentine’s appreciation of your own.

You forgo the slinky red number you had planned to wear to the restaurant with Conner, and opt instead for a rather unsuspecting blouse-jeans combo, which happen to both respectively frame your tits and ass perfectly.

The lacy, bright pink set in the back of your closet might have made it beneath your clothes, though. The prettiness of it made you feel that much better, even if no one else was going to see it.

Maybe.

Padding back into your kitchen after running a flat iron through your hair and throwing on some concealer, mascara, and lip gloss, you find Grayson draining the pasta into a colander in the sink.

Grayson does a double-take when he sees you standing there admiring the flex of his bicep as he holds the pot. “Hey! You look amazing.”

“If you say so,” you joke, bumping his hip with yours as. You pass him to pull plates and bowls out of the cabinet.

“I do,” he insists quietly.

Arm outstretched mid-reach, you look over at him, locking eyes with his hazel ones. He looks a little surprised by the words that left his mouth, like he meant for them to stay inside his head. There must be some kind of challenge in your gaze, daring him to elaborate.

He busies himself with the pasta again hastily, his voice low. “Conner is a fucking idiot. To do that to you. To let you go. You don’t deserve that. Especially not today.”

Plates in hand, you rest them gently on the counter with your lower lip caught between your teeth, and peer over at this handsome man you’re so proud and lucky to call your best friend. He’s everything you thought Conner was — cute and smart and charming — but so much more — beautiful and good and kind.

And he’s been right here in front of you the whole time.

You reach out and touch his elbow softly. The hairs on his forearm are crisp but soft, and you follow them down to that gleaming watch on his wrist.

“You know,” you start quietly, fingers tracing the links of the band before flipping his hand over to trace the lines of his palm, “you keep talking about what I deserve today. But you deserve all that and more. You deserve someone’s love that matches your own.”

He watches your delicate fingers on his large, calloused palm, then trails his eyes up to yours when he feels their attention on his face. A piece of hair flops into his eyes, and you reach up without thinking or any hesitation to push it away again with a little smile playing on your glossy lips.

You look down and lay your palm flat against his, admiring the difference in size between your hands for a moment before interlocking your fingers with his.

“I love you.”

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise; he beat you to the words.

“In case that wasn’t obvious,” Grayson continues, turning towards you. “And I hope that’s not too much for you to handle, with everything you’ve had hap-”

“I love you too, Gray,” you interrupt, stepping that much closer to him so you’re nearly chest-to-chest with him.

“Yeah?” He sounds almost boyish in his astonishment, and it makes you want to hold him tight and never let go.

“Yeah,” you giggle. “A lot. I’m sorry it took me getting dumped to realize it.”

He shakes his head, his hand resting on your cheek gently. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod once before he’s swiftly ducking down to claim your lips with his. They’re soft and pliable, and you feel their effects from the nerves in your scalp all the way down to your bare toes.

“Grayson,” you breathe, lashes fluttering open as he pulls back just enough to look at you concernedly.

You smile, bigger and brighter than you have all day, and cup his stubbled cheeks with your hands, scratching your nails gently against his jaw. “I just wanted to say your name.”

Grayson grins now, too. He kisses you more insistently now that he’s got the taste of you on his tongue, which he flicks against the underside of your top lip as he breaks the kiss. “Say it again.”

“Make me,” you challenege, voice breathy and excited, eyes closed as you savor his sweet breath against your lips. “In my room.” You feel him tense up a bit, and you open your eyes to meet his questioning gaze, biting back a smile at the inevitable hope also shining there. “I’m sure.”

With that, Grayson hauls you up into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist with a squeal as he buries his face into your neck. He starts making the way to your bedroom, cooked food left long forgotten in the kitchen behind you.

“Are you wearing my signature scent?” he asks, inhaling your skin deeply.

“Mmhm,” you hum, threading your fingers through the back of his thick hair. It’s so long again, and you give the dark strands a sharp tug that makes him grunt. “Part one of my gift to you. Since you got so many for me today.”

“Part one, huh?” he says, crossing the threshold of your room. “What’s part two?”

“What I’m wearing underneath this,” you whisper in his ear, giggling loudly when he lies you down on the bed with more of a toss than he might have intended. “If you want it, that is.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind at the mere suggestion that he wouldn’t, and you take that as enough encouragement to tug at the bow tying your forest green silk wrap blouse together.

The folds part open and expose your chest, clad in that pink lace demi-cup bra with the cage detailing over the tops of your breasts. Grayson moans and dips down to nuzzle your cleavage, breathing in the scent of your warm skin. His hands trail up your sides, from your hips to your rib cage, until they settle in the dips of your waist. His touch ignites you, makes your back arch and your hips grind up against his thigh between your legs, just from the sensation of his hands on these new parts of your body.

“Grayson,” you sigh, and he smirks up at you with his chin on your tits when he realizes that’s all it took for you to say his name again.

You grab his cheeks and kiss that smugness away, shifting your legs so they’re wrapped around his waist once again, pushing down on the small of his back to get your centers to meet.

Both of you gasp into each other’s mouths when his erection rubs against your pussy, even through all the layers of clothing still on your bodies. You reach down blindly, still attacking his mouth with yours, and feel around for his belt.

His pants come off, followed by yours, and he sits you up enough to push your blouse off your shoulders rather gently considering the intensity of everything. Once the garment is tossed over his shoulder, you’re down to nothing but that pretty lingerie and he in his boxer briefs.

There’s a moment of pause and clarity for the two of you, staring into one another’s eyes as the reality hits of what you’re about to do. What it means to both of you. Grayson stares down at you, and places a hand over your rapidly thumping heart.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly, dragging his hand up your chest, over your throat, until he’s cupping you’re cheek and stroking your lip with his thumb.

You smile in return, then part your lips with your eyes locked on his, encouraging him silently to slip that digit in your mouth.

Grayson’s eyes darken, and he offers you his pointer finger instead, swallowing hard when you suck and swirl your soft, wet tongue around it.

Suddenly, he’s rolling the two of you over, switching positions so he’s on his back and you straddle him. You smile happily, taking your turn to duck down and attach your lips to the pulse point his neck, grinding down on his cock with a slow, steady rhythm.

“You’re so amazing, Gray,” you tell him, nipping at the lobe of his ear before kissing the underside of his chin. “Can’t believe you’re all mine now.”

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” he growls back, cursing when you trail your kisses down the center of his body, giving each one of those moon’s their own special attention before continuing down.

When you get to the waistband of his underwear, you trail your tongue on the edge of the elastic and watch his abs contract with each shaky breath he takes. One little move of your hands, and you’ll finally get to see what he’s really packing.

But before you can even hook your fingers there to pull down, he’s tugging on your hair. “Fuck, fuck, c’mere. Please.”

You pout, but follow his lead, licking back up his muscular torso until he’s able to drag you to him for a deep, wet kiss.

“Sit on my face,” he demands, shuffling down on the pillow to make more room for you.

That takes you off guard. “But—”

“Do it. Please. I fucking have to taste you.”

Your body must be working ahead of your brain, because before you know it, you’re straddling Grayson’s face, his tongue is sweeping through the wetness in your slit, and his dark eyes are peering up at you from between your thighs.

“Oh... oh!” you cry out when his tongue starts flicking against your clit. He goes back to swiping up all your arousal, then suctions his lips around your clit. He’s using one hand to hold the lace of your thong aside, and the other dips first one finger, then two inside of you. “Oh, fuck, that’s so good...”

Grayson moans, the vibrations erupting around your clit and sending you right to the edge already. You reach back and palm his cock, rock hard in his underwear still, and squeeze as he makes you cum all over his mouth.

He gets his fill of your cum as he groans and keeps up the motion of his fingers, the pressure of his lips, the softness of his tongue as your pussy pulses with each contraction of your orgasm. You wait for him to start letting up, but something about the way he’s working you just makes those waves stay steady rather than die down again. Maybe that’s his intention, because when you drop your head down to look at him with your mouth wet and agape, there’s a sparkling mischief in his eyes has he eats you out like his last meal.

Your hips grind against his face of their own accord, and you delve one hand in his hair while the other supports you on the headboard. You gasp out a quivering, breathless laugh as it all becomes just too much, and you try to lift off his mouth.

Grayson isn’t having it, though. He wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you down, reveling in the moans and whimpers and squeals as he makes you cum again.

“Oh my god — enough, enough, I can’t...” you whine, shoving on his forehead until he releases you and drops his head to the pillow. You could already see it by the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, but he’s smirking wide, chest heaving as you slink your way down his body.

You collapse next to him in a daze, and he rolls on top of you smoothly, peppering little kisses to your cheeks, your jaw, your nose. When you’re back in your right mind, you nudge blindly at his face so his lips find yours. He tastes like your pussy, and you sigh happily as you lift your heavy arms to wrap around his neck while his scoop beneath you, holding you close.

You continue to indulge in each other for a while, in the kisses you hadn’t been allowed to share until now. There’s something exciting about his familiarity and yet also this strange newness that has you absolutely desperate for him in every way.

“This is crazy,” you say when you pull back for air, studying his face hovering right above yours. You push back that stubborn chunk of hair that keeps falling into his eyes with a soft smile. “How did we end up here?”

Grayson turns his head to press his lips to your palm. “I don’t know. Is it too much? Should we stop?”

You shake your head vehemently, and he grins. “No, please. I think I just have to grasp that you’re really... mine now.”

He chuckles. “How do you think I felt watching you with that loser for five months?”

The mention of Conner makes you feel nothing — nothing other than gratitude for Grayson, that is. You slide your hands down his back, over his ribs, across his abs until your hand cups his dick.

His hips thrust into your touch, and you grin up at him demurely as you finally delve your hand past his waistband until you’ve got his length completely in your grasp.

He’s hot and hard and thick, and you start stroking him just to gauge the reaction in his face. He doesn’t disappoint, his jaw gaping open slightly, his breaths picking up, a flush rising to the apples of his cheeks.

Without warning, he reaches down and grasps your wrist. You pout, but he asks hastily. “Are we gonna have sex?”

You smirk. “Hell yeah.”

Grayson grins and shakes his head. “Alright, then you gotta stop.”

“Already?” you tease, letting him sit back and hook his fingers in the tiny string of your thong at your hips.

He gives you a look as he pulls the scrap of lace down your legs, then stands to push down his own underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, and you wish he’d let you blow him some before you hit the main event, but he says, “I’ve wanted you for too long to take any chances about screwing up the first time.”

You melt a little, reaching for him as he climbs back on the bed. “There should be some condoms in the drawer there. Just to be safe after... you know.”

He nods and dips down to kiss you before leaning over to riffle through the top drawer of your nightstand. He comes back with a purple square, which you take from him.

“Gotta practice an activity safely,” you wink, tearing open the condom and rolling it down his shaft quickly.

“Shut up.” Grayson rolls his eyes, but smiles softly as he settles between your legs just right. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, gasping as he starts to sink inside you.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as your walls suck him in and grip him tight.

He goes slow for a couple of minutes, allowing both of you time to adjust to each other. He stretches you out so much better than anyone you’ve ever been with, and you can’t help but clench around him when you see those tattoos and smell his cologne and hear his voice — all things that remind you that this is Grayson fucking you.

He growls the first time you do it, then sits up hastily, pulling his face out of your neck when you do it again. He tucks his knees beneath him, sits on his heels, and hauls your hips into his lap as the speed of his thrusts picks up incrementally. Until he’s fucking you for real, and your tits bounce in your bra with every upstroke.

You shove an arm beneath your pillow, enunciating the curves of your body, and watch his expressions as he fights to hold back. His hair is disheveled, lip caught tight between his teeth and muffling his deep, satisfied sounds that mingle with your open higher-pitched ones. He catches your eye and his hands on your hips grip you so tight for a moment that you’re sure little bruises will be there in the morning — not that you mind.

“Fuck,” he whispers harshly before slowing his hips and shifting down to give you a deep, sloppy kiss. “Turn over.”

You moan into his mouth, then follow his order, rolling onto your front as soon as he pulls out. You expect him to haul your hips up into the air, but he moves your hair off your neck and trails sweet kisses from shoulder to shoulder, his hand sweeping down the subtle curve of your back until he’s gripping your ass.

Grayson’s hand moves down your thigh and pushes it up and out once he’s cupping the back of your knee. The angle encourages you to twist your upper half until you have sight of him once again in all his angled, sweaty, muscular glory.

“Fuck me, baby,” you beg him, already anticipating the fullness inside you again. Needing it.

“Want me to fuck you?” he asks needlessly, pushing into your pussy once again. You moan loudly, either in confirmation or from pure pleasure, it doesn’t matter. The angle is tighter, the tip of his dick hitting a spot so perfectly accurate inside of you that you can’t concentrate on anything other than how good he’s making you feel. “Yeah. So fucking sexy. So beautiful...”

“Gray.. oh fuck yes, right there,” you whimper, catching onto his arm as he leans over you and gives you those hard, steady strokes.

“Open your eyes, baby, lemme see them when you cum,” he growls out.

You open them as much as you can, your vision blurry, but you can still make out those handsome features soaking in the pleasure on your face. Watching and waiting for you to get yours so he can get his.

As soon as you’re clenching like a vice around him, Grayson is letting go into the condom. You can vaguely feel the throb of him as he cums in spurts, the sound of his masculine, drawn-out groans making you shiver and tense up even more on his dick. If it’s possible for anyone to sound as sexy as they look, Grayson achieves that in spades.

He collapses on the bed next to you, and you have just enough strength to roll over until he’s got you gathered in his arms. You nuzzle into his chest and try to process everything. You had been hoping for nice sex today, and instead you got the best sex of your life.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence while you both catch your breath, after he pulls and ties off the condom, you smile into his cooling skin with a satisfied sigh.

“Thank you for making this the best Valentine’s Day of my life. Especially after it was starting to look like the worst.”

“You made this the best day of my life, period,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Gray.”

#the relief i have in finishing this lmao #im sorry its a day late this took way more effort than i thought it would #dolan twins #grayson dolan #smut #blurb #g blurb

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a-cupof-jo · 3 years

Text

Dyspnea

Parings: Potion Master!Jaehyun X Medicinal Herbalist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Intended Angst, Magic!au

WC: 4.1K

Warnings: magic inaccuracies, food mentioned, tiny bit suggestive

For @ficscafe fic scenario event!

Summary: The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple, but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Prompt: 38. When they test out a love potion on their partner.

It wasn’t fair that so many people get to enjoy this day while he is stuck behind the shuttered windows dark shadows. He doesn’t hate this day. How could he? It was Valentine's day- and his birthday but that never mattered. Not to the everyday people who slip through his door hours before this day begins. He can’t blame them. For they came in search of something only he can provide.

Love.

Or at least some figment of love. For some it was a way to prove their love. Others used it to try and get their long time crush to like them back. Jaehyun can’t help but laugh every time a young teenager pushes open the door to his shop for the nth time that week saying that they wanted to test this “love potion” on another person. Of course he doesn’t give them a full love potion. Just something diluted down closer to an addictive, like honey. It barely lasts 15 minutes.

He hears a bell chime from the other room. Whipping his hands on his apron he walks through the separating doorway. “I’m sorry,” he glances toward a cracked window that no longer had sunlight gleaming through it. “I am actually closed.”

“Oh,” a man just shorter than Jaehyun stood in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’ll just come back tomorrow.” He bit his lip lightly glancing around the room.

“Nonsense,” Jaehyun waved his hand. “You are already here. Might as well make good of the trip. Besides. I don’t mind.” He grinned at the man, trying to ease the tension that laced through the newcomers face.

The man sighed before stepping closer, “I still feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Jaehyun gave a light laugh. “Gives me something better to do than stir pots,” he watched the man warily as the sentence left his lips. “Magical beings” were still a wary subject for some people even if they had been able to practice in the open for nearly 50 years now. When the man just gave him a small smile Jaehyun stepped behind the counter that held his potions and elixirs. “What can I help you find today Mr…”

“Oh, Lee. But just call me Taeyong,” he waved his hand around peering through the glass at the display. “Well here’s my situation.” He glanced up at Jaehyun. “I have a date coming up and my date said there is this potion that allowed a person to change their hair color just by drinking it,” Taeyong looked amazed as he stared up at Jaehyun. “I wanted to try it out for our next date. That, and I’m not sure how much more bleaching my scalp can go through.” He combed his hand through his hair giving it a light tug at the bangs afterwards.

Jaehyun grimaced as he watched the straw like strands fall back into place, “Well you’re where you need to be. I have a lot of potions for that.” He moved down the row to where a shelf full of colorful bottles filled every inch. “There’s all of these, plus I can also create other colors if you don’t see one you like here.”

Taeyong peered back through the glass eyes wide with wonder. He glanced around the box a few times. "What about white?" He rested a hand over a bottle he assumed to hold the potion.

Jaehyun grinned, "One of my best sellers." Reaching for a little black jar Jaehyun scan the man. He would obviously look good with white hair. He probably looks good with any color of hair. "You just want to try the white?"

Taeyong hummed a second glancing toward the moonlit window, "Yes, just the white."

Jaehyun set the bottle is a small leather pouch, "2 shillings." The coins clinked as rested on the counter. "Enjoy! Have a good night." He watched the thin man walk through the door and past the window before latching the door shut. Taeyong had been pleasant and kind but Jaehyun couldn't help but be slightly peeved with the man. Unlatching the door he peeked his head out; he glanced to his left and, yes, there was still the sign with hours stating 'Dawn to Dusk' hanging off the building.

The moon was bright tonight and he couldn’t help but stare at it. How could it be that a ball of rock could bring him such peace. Maybe it was just the ambiance, but a little part of him wants to believe that there's a little man that lives on that moon and watches over the earth. It might seem ridiculous, but he could brew color changing elixirs and make people fall in love, so it couldn’t be that far fetched.

“Happy birthday, sweetie,” Jaehyun jumped lightly as arms wrapped around him from behind. He sighed as you placed your chin on his shoulder. “Sorry I wasn’t back earlier. I got stuck talking to Johnny at the market.” Your finger traced little patterns on his stomach as you both stood in the dimly lit doorway. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.” You pulled at his arm. Jaehyun closed his eyes taking a deep breath of clear night air before turning and giving you a soft smile. “I may have something for you. You know, considering it is valentines day.”

“Only because it’s valentines day,” He raised an eyebrow at you as you glided through the small store.

You were once an enigma to him. Someone he couldn’t reach, couldn’t touch. Your brother, adoptive brother, Johnny was Jaehyun’s best friend growing up. You were the aloof younger sister that Jaehyun hardly knew about until you made it to your apprenticeship. For as long as Jaehyun had known you, you’d have always been enamored by plants and flowers. So, when he found out you were studying herbal medicine, he wasn’t surprised.

“Of course, what other day would it be,” you gave him a small smile as you stood near the pot Jaehyun had previously been working at.

Jaehyun's relationship with you had been moments of fleeting looks, paths crossing, and unspoken rules. Two lives bending and swaying, following the same path, but never touching. Until you broke the pattern, you veered off course.

He had just finished his apprenticeship with the, now retired, potions master Kim. Mr. Kim had taken Jaehyun in from a young age, raising him when Jaehyun’s parents decided they didn’t want anything to do with someone containing magical properties. Johnny had planned a small party congratulating Jaehyun on his success. He didn’t know you were going to be there. Even if you were Johnny’s sibling you never showed anything but indifference to Jaehyun. Music had played from a small group of boys too loud for the space they were in.

You had sauntered over, a small flute of champagne dangling from your fingertips. "Can you do it?" Jaehyun had been surprised by your bluntness. "Take over for Kim. There's gonna be a lot of pressure," you noted, not unkindly.

"There will be, but Mr. Kim wouldn't let me take over if he didn't have at least some confidence in my abilities," he swiped the glass from your hand and swallowed down the contents. "Besides, he's still going to be around. He hasn't cut me loose yet."

You grabbed his hand in yours and tugged him towards the outskirts of dancing people, "A dance?" You didn't wait for a response as you twirled him closer to the center of the floor.

Jaehyun was not surprised at your fluid movements. Johnny had always bragged about how his sister was a natural dancer and the best in their city, perhaps the world. He smiled at you now sharing Johnny's sentiments. You gave him a small grin in return as the music died, "You're going to be great."

A whoop went up from one of the musicians, Donghyuck, Jaehyun's brain supplied. Your grin grew as you raised your voice in a louder whoop. Jaehyun watched as the sentimental atmosphere changed. You grabbed his hands leading him to a lively dance, "Beside, you can't fail, not when I'm just a few doors down."

"You mean cause Ms. Joy is a few doors down," Jaehyun teasing corrected.

You shake your head at him, "I'll be a few doors down."

You were, and a line that you didn't know existed between you both was crossed. Jaehyun wasn't sure who started the late night rendezvous or the unspoken pact of always standing by each other, but turned into late night talks which turned into early morning coffee, and later, shared lunches.

You guys fell into a rhythm, a three year rhythm that morphed into passing kisses, soft hugs, mornings of gentle coaxing and nights of soft loving.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you glancing into the pot full of a clear liquid, thicker than water and smelled of sweet syrup, "Busy?"

You spun to face him shaking your head as you fixed the collar of his shirt, "Everyone was too busy being in love to be worried about visiting me.”

“Ah, the prettiest healer on the street doesn’t have love on this day,” Jaehyun furrowed his brow. “I knew this would happen. You would leave me because I have given love to everyone but you.”

You gave him a light giggle kissing the corner of his mouth, “I would never leave you.” You spin out of his arms walking further towards the house that sat behind the shop. “You are my soulmate,” you gave Jaehyun a look full of adoration and love.

Jaehyun was sure that his face read the same, “My perfect half.”

You motioned for him to follow you, “Come, I made something for you.”

“Made something for me,” Jaehyun stepped into the small living areas entryway. “What is the occasion?”

“It’s Valentine's Day,” you had shrugged, pulling a large dutch oven out of the convection oven. You turned and furrowed your brows at him, “and I think there’s something else going on today. Any idea what that is?”

Jaehyun shrugged, “None that I can think of.”

“Hmm,” you opened the lid letting more of the aroma fill the room. Your mouth popped open in mock surprise, “Oh, that’s right. It’s your birthday.” You placed vegetables on the table before scooping up some hot soup. You widen your eyes at him, humor dancing through them, “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Especially because I got you something special.”

“Something special?” Jaehyun placed cups on the small table as you set down the plates. “Where is it?”

You grinned and leaned in close to his ear, “That’s for me to know and you to find.” You laughed as Jaehyun let out a choked breath and scanned you up and down. “Now, let’s eat. You’re going to need all of your energy.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Jaehyun gave an astonished laugh grinning as you sat across from him placing a small cupcake in front of him.

The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Jaehyun hummed under his breath as the sun shone through his shop's open windows. Spring was just around the corner and Jaehyun’s happy mood couldn’t be dimmed. Warm bright weather brought in more customers. More customers meant that he was busier, and brought in more revenue, but mostly he was busier. That was one reason Jaehyun loved his job. He was working with his hands all day. There was never a moment where he was bored.

He watched as a little boy walked between the two aisles the shop held. It wasn’t much, but the little trinkets and common potions that lined the shelves made Jaehyun proud of how far he had come. He could still picture the small store from when he was around the young boy's age. Laughter sounded through the store as the boy tried to escape his mother's hands. "Have a good day!" Jaehyun watched the giggling pair walk out the front door. Turning to the backroom he sighed looking at the pot that sat there.

The weeks he had spent trying to develop a new love potion was wasted as he, once again, failed. Since before Valentines day, now nearly 2 weeks ago, he had been cooped up in that backroom, trying to find a better love concoction. You, while fully willing, were starting to become an annoyed test subject. Jaehyun couldn't help but get testy when you complained about the new love potion. If you were gonna tell him it wasn't good or right then maybe you could give some ideas on how to fix it. Maybe he just needs to find a new test subject. Jaehyun looked through the list of love potions and ingredients that he had already used. Too many, he scowled down at the pages and pages of notes he had made on each variety of potion he had made.

"Hello," he heard the little bell connected to the front door ring and someone walked around the shop, obviously looking for him.

Jaehyun sighed, rolled his shoulders back and tried to put on his best smile, "Hi, what can I help you with- Oh Taeyong. Hello." Jaehyun scanned the man in front of him. "The white looks good."

Taeyong reached up and ran a hand through his bright white hair, "Thanks. I love it and so did my date." He tapped his index fingers together as he walked back up to the counter full of the colored potions. "I wanted to try more."

Jaehyun smiled as the man scanned the rows, "We've plenty to choose from."

Taeyong narrowed his eyes, concentrating on different colors. He eyes flickered up and met Jaehyun's, "I can't decide. What do you think? What would look good?"

"He looks great in pink," a hand wrapped around his bicep. "He knows it too, but not many can pull it off well. You might be able to," Jaehyun grinned at you. While you were right about pink being a difficult color to pull off, you knew more than that, the pink dye was the hardest one to make. Which is why when Jaehyun glanced down at the box, he saw only 2 pink vials while the others had at least 10. "What about red? Maybe a green?"

Taeyong watched the two of you share another quick look. Clearing his throat slightly he looked down in the box again. "Red and green," he nodded his head. "Yes, I think I'll try those. One of each, please."

Jaehyun grabbed the two vials and placed them both in a leather patch that you held open, "Okay, 4 shillings." Taeyong placed the coins in Jaehyun's hand. "Have a good day!"

"You too," Taeyong gave a half hearted wave.

Jaehyun sighed as your arms wrapped fully around him, “What’s up?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at his face, your eyes fluted around looking for an answer.

“I still can’t get this potion right,” he ran his hands up and down your arms. Jaehyun felt you press closer to you, your hands started running up and down his sides. “I want something different, something that shows who you are supposed to love, but how are you supposed to know that.”

“Soulmates.” Jaehyun startled as the voice rang through the shop. He turned to glare at the man who had made him jump, “Sorry.” Taeyong raised his hands. “I didn’t mean to intrude or overstay my welcome, but I can’t help but be fascinated by all of this. And also you can’t really-”

“It’s fine,” your arms dropped away from Jaehyun. You finger tapped your chin as you considered Taeyong words, “Soulmates… that may work, but, how could you put something like a soulmate indicator in a love potion.”

Jaehyun tapped his hands on the counter. Soulmates, while not nonexistent, hadn’t been thought about in decades. In fact, Jaehyun didn't know the first thing about finding soulmates or even if he believed in them. It’s not not very plausible, he can’t just give someone a potion and tell them that it will give them their soulmate. There's more to it than that. More to love and being in love then just having souls destined to be together, "I can't do that." He shakes his head at the two who had continued to excitedly discuss the topic. He watched as their faces morphed to disbelief and disappointment.

Your hands came up to rest on your hips, "And why not."

Jaehyun reached into the glass cabinet rearranging vials and avoiding eye contact, "There's no way I can reveal soulmates. Too many indicators and no defiant way to squeeze all of those into one potion. Soulmates and their indicators have been hidden for years and it's rare that people ever find or want to be with their soulmate. Besides, there are too many variables."

"Too many variables," you gave a light scoff.

"What if you didn't give them a way to instantly reveal their soulmate," Taeyong cut in. "What if, instead, you revealed soulmate indicators or made them stronger."

"What do you mean," Jaehyun sighed. He knew they weren't going to give this up. The hope and excitement in their eyes made Jaehyun more hesitant to even consider creating this potion.

Taeyong walked closer to the counter where Jaehyun and you stood. “Soulmates, they are predestined, we can’t control or decide who they are or how we get paired. Now, many of us don’t meet our soulmates, the bonds aren’t as strong and people can find people they truly love. What if you strengthen the bonds? Revealed them?” Taeyong lifted his hand wiggling his fingers. “Sometimes I think I feel a tug on my hand, especially when I am at home alone. I can’t help but wonder if, hope, it’s my soulmate.”

You watched him, an unfamiliar look in your eyes. Slowly you turned to Jaehyun and grabbed his right hand in both of yours, “Please Jaehyun, you can do this, we can do this. Help others find their soulmate, their perfect half.” Your eyes pleaded with him.

It really wasn’t fair. You knew that he would do anything for you, and you used that against him. Jaehyun sighed, “Okay, I’ll try. If you think this will work I’m willing to work on it.” Jaehyun couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face as you gave him a hug cheering along with Taeyong. He watched as you danced around the room bidding goodbye as you ran back to work. Taeyong also raced out of the shop, saying something about a ruby and some fish. As he watched the door swing shut the smile dropped his face. He couldn’t help the dread that filled his stomach and the distinct feeling that this would not end well.

Jaehyun stirred the sweet smelling syrup again. This was his fifth attempt at this potion. By this point he was frustrated. Nothing was working, all he kept making were diluted love potions, potions that made eyes change colors when they saw their loved ones, and a potion that made your heart glow from inside your chest. Both you and Jaehyun had been disturbed by the last potion. He had spent two weeks trying to figure this out. Both Taeyong and you had been helping when and where you could. You would get herbs and plants of magical origins, guiding and helping with the new ones that Jaehyun hadn’t seen before. Whereas, Taeyong would stir the potions or gather, obscure, ingredients- fairy dust, dwarf warts, pegasus hoof shavings. While impressive, Jaehyun was too scared to ask Taeyong how he got all real, authentic these ingredients or knew about all of these ingredients. As far as Jaehyun knew, Taeyong wasn’t a magic user. Though he wouldn’t be surprised if he descended from fairies or mermaids.

He sighed as the potion bubbled the mugwort he just dropped in hissed as it blended, “Make a potion, they said. It will help people, they said.” He pulled out another vial. He had it simply labeled “love”. A base potion that he used when creating all his love potions, but this wasn’t a love potion, not truly. People don’t fall in love because of it, they may not even be able to find love because of it. With that thought in mind he set the base potion down and pulled out a different potion. It’s more medicinal, healing than anything else. It was the first potion that you and Jaehyun had made together. A potion that could heal a bond. Chi bonds specifically. Maybe it would work. If he broke it down to its core parts and mixed it with the current love potion or maybe the one that made your heart glow just a few nights ago.

Jaehyun jumped from his seat racing around the room grabbing ingredients and writing down ratios and doses. The smell of linens and irises filled the room. Jaehyun could help but feel comfort from the two smells. It smelled like you. Like a warm day under the sun laying in the little meadow sitting on the outskirts of town.

“It smells so good here,” Jaehyun looked up as you entered the room. You closed your eyes inhaling a deep breath. “Like just after it rains and…” you took another deep breath, “and roses.”

Jaehyun tilted his head. That was interesting. The scent was different to everyone. Maybe it was a comforting scent or the scent of your beloved. It may have worked this time. Jaehyun stirred the pot a few more times before turning off the heat, “I just need to let it cool now.”

You walked closer to him peering down into the now pale yellow potion, “You think it worked this time?”

Jaehyun wrapped an arm around your waist. He shrugged, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder, “Maybe. I tried something different this time. It may do the trick.”

You hummed as he swayed you both back and forth, “That’s good. I’m really glad that you decided to make this. Soulmates were intended to be together, to have each other and we’ve moved so far from that.” You reached up and played with his hair twirling it between your fingers a few times, “I know that it doesn’t really matter, but I’d like to know, to confirm what I know, you’re my soulmate.”

Jaehyun was so in love with you. So ready to spend the rest of his days with you. He took another deep breath, linens and irises, “My better half.” He kissed under your ear before moving to grab a ladle from beside the pot, “Would you like to ladle or hold the bottles.” You grabbed the ladle from him motioning to move closer to the pot. “Would you like to know what I used this time? What the heart of this potion?” He watched you nod your head urging him to continue, “Our first potion.” Your head shot up surprise lighting up every feature. Jaehyun laughed, “I still remember you rushing in here and demanding I help you. You had never had to make a medicinal potion for a chi before. I hadn’t either, but that didn’t stop us from trying. Maybe we were lucky, or maybe it was fate because that day I feel deeply and madly in love with you. You unlocked my ability to love.”

You stood still. Face slack jawed but eyes full of love, “You’re such a dork.” Jaehyun couldn’t say anything before you were in his arms, lips on his, and arms wrapped around his shoulders. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Jaehyun grinned at you, pulling further away from you. He looked over at the now empty pot. “Now, rock, paper, scissors for who has to drink the potion.” He held his hand up in a fist.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes at him. “Rock, paper, scissors.” You sighed as he held up scissors motioning to cut through your paper. “Fine,” you picked up the small vial tilting it in a small cheers before drinking the liquid inside.

Jaehyun waited, the air tense around the two of you. A bell rang, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. A small red string pulled at your previously bare pinkie, “Hey guys! What’s going on. It smells so good here, like fresh linen and Irises. Are you guys back he- oh.” The string led past Jaehyun and tugged tight where Taeyong stood, his hand lifted in surprise.

Tag List: @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen

#ficscafe scenario event #ficscafe #k-dinernet #knet-bakery #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #soulmate au #magic au

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moonlit-jeno · 4 years

Text

valentine (m.)

pairing: reader x jung jaehyun x johnny seo x kim jungwoo x kim doyoung

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | fivesome | mentions of drinking | absolute filth

words: 3.8k

summary: a series of unfortunate events leaves the five of you alone on a day meant to be spent together

“You’re back early.” Doyoung comments, glancing up from his phone to watch you storm into your apartment. He’s in the same spot on the couch that he was in when you left.

You throw your purse onto the counter, angrily stripping your coat off. “Yeah. The guy blew me off. Can you believe that?” You walk into your room and peel your dress off of you, trading it for a comfy pair of sweats. The lingerie stays on, though. It makes you feel cute. When you come back into the living room, Doyoung hands you a beer and pats the space next to him. “He didn’t even text me until I’d been waiting for fifteen minutes.” “Yeah well, he’s a fucking asshole.” Doyoung says it like he’s stating the obvious. You guess he is. “But hey, at least you can spend some quality room with your roommate who isn’t an asshole!” You raise your eyebrows. “Yay.” There isn’t an ounce of emotion in your voice.

Doyoung glares at you but he can’t be too annoyed. He hands you the TV remote. “You choose. My ex changed the password on my Netflix account and won’t let me log back in, so. That’s not an option.”

“You’re kidding. Do you want me to go to her house?” You normally leech off of Doyoung’s Netflix account, so this is a direct attack to you.

He snorts. “I’ll think about it.” It’s an hour later and you’ve flipped through every station the TV has to offer, finding nothing but shitty made-for-tv romance movies and game shows. You give up watching and pick up your phone, checking social media. An array of happy couples assault you and you groan, switching apps. It isn’t any better.

“Valentine’s day is stupid.” Doyoung groans, clearly in a similar state of boredom.

“Amen.” You click your phone off and let your head fall back against the couch, finding the ceiling more appealing than the endless Snapchat stories.

“Definitely the worst holiday.” You think about it for a moment. “Hey, no. Think about all the candy they’ll have on sale tomorrow.” His agreement is interrupted by a knock and you exchange a glance with him. “Did you invite someone over?” He shakes his head.

You swing the door open to reveal Johnny and Jaehyun. Johnny’s holding a cake and smiling broadly. Jaehyun looks dead inside.

“Hey?” You greet them, slightly confused as to why they’re at your apartment. Doyoung doesn’t look like he has any idea either. “What’s up?” “Well, we were going to go out to dinner for Jae’s birthday but the restaurant lost our reservation and everywhere else was beyond crowded.” Johnny’s laugh is almost apologetic. “I knew Doyoung was staying in, but I thought you had a date.” His eyes roam over your figure, clearly taking in the combination of your loose sweats and stained sweatshirt. “Yeah, I had a date. He blew me off.”

Both boys grimace. “Shit. Want me to kill him?” You step back to let them in, laughing lightly. “Nah, that’s alright. Come on in, we can sit in our misery together.” Johnny and Jaehyun smile and shuffle in, though Jaehyun’s looks a little forced. “I can’t promise you a gourmet dinner, but we do have frozen pizzas and ice cream.” Jaehyun laughs. “Sounds pretty gourmet to me. I’m gonna use the bathroom, if that’s alright.” The three of you watch him walk away before Johnny turns to you and Doyoung.

“Sorry to barge in, but he always gets so lonely on his birthday, and I wanted to cheer him up. I don’t think that him seeing all the couples out tonight really helped.” Johnny sighs.

You grimace. “Oh god, yeah.”

“You know you’re always welcome over.” Doyoung shrugs. “Not like you were interrupting anything.” He walks away to turn the oven on, pulling out the pizza. “It should take twenty minutes? Not really sure. Our oven’s kind of broken.” Johnny laughs. “No problem. Can I set this down somewhere?” He raises the cake in question and you motion to your counter. “Are we feeling wine or vodka tonight?” Jaehyun makes his return at the exact moment you ask the question.

“Definitely vodka.” He responds, already pulling the glasses out of your cupboard. You snicker. It certainly is that kind of night.

Johnny’s phone chimes and he checks it, snorting. “Seems like a bad night for all of us. Ten just abandoned Jungwoo for a date.” “Tell him to come over.” Doyoung says. “We’ll have a party of our own.”

Jungwoo shows up 30 minutes later, equipped with bags of takeout and a pout on his face. You don’t have enough chairs for everyone so you eat it on the couch, squished between the arm rest and Jungwoo. “We were supposed to go clubbing.” He whines, stripping his jacket off. “I even put on my expensive cologne.” “Rough. Who’s he out on a date with, anyway?” He shoves half the container of noodles into his mouth. “Someone on Tinder! Can you believe that he abandoned me for a Tinder match?”

“Unbelievable.” Jaehyun pats his back while the rest of you nod solemnly. Johnny pours the rest of you shots.

“Fuck Valentine’s day.” He raises his glass in a toast before tossing it back, grimacing slightly. A chorus of ‘fuck Valentine’s day’ sounds around the room as you follow suit.

You’re all tipsy by the time you move onto cake, singing a very dramatic version of happy birthday to Jaehyun. He giggles his way through it, dimples making an appearance as he blows the candles out..

“What’d you wish for?” You demand, leaning forward. Jaehyun winks at you and holds a finger to his lips. “Can’t tell you or it won’t come true.” You pout. He pinches your cheeks.

Johnny takes charge of cutting the cake while Doyoung runs to the kitchen, returning with a can of whipped cream and some ice cream. Jungwoo looks down at the slice Johnny gives him, and then back up at Johnny with raised eyebrows. He shoves the whole piece into his mouth in one go. Johnny gives him a significantly larger second piece.

“You know what the most devastating part of tonight is?” Jungwoo asks, spooning ice cream onto his cake. “I’m not even going to get laid. That’s like, the one thing I was hoping for.” “Hey, that’s what I wished for!” Jaehyun exclaims. His head rests heavily on Johnny’s shoulder and Johnny laughs, patting his back.

“I thought you said that you couldn’t tell us or it wouldn’t come true.” You chime in.

Jaehyun shrugs. “Not like it’s gonna come true anyways.” “I’m pretty sure that’s what we were all wishing for.” Doyoung chimes in.

Johnny raises his forkful of cake. “I’ll toast to that.” “Same.” You respond, trying to remember the last time you had sex, then trying to remember the last time you had good sex. Then you pause. “Wait. You’re all hot as fuck, how are you not getting laid?” They all shrug. Jaehyun grins, dimples on full display. “Aww, you think we’re hot. Would you sleep with us?” Maybe it’s the alcohol that has you nodding, maybe not. You’ve always been shameless, especially in front of people you’re comfortable with. “Yeah? Like I said, you all hot as fuck.” “You’re pretty hot too, y/n.” Johnny says. “I don’t know how Doyoung can live with you and not be sexually frustrated as fuck.” Jungwoo giggles. “He is, though.” Doyoung smacks the younger and Jungwoo squeaks, still laughing. You shoot Doyoung a questioning look and he just shrugs.

The five of you continue eating, finishing the cake and chatting mindlessly. “Y/n,” Jungwoo is suddenly way too close, using his hand to tilt your chin up. “You have a little something…” He uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth at the same time that you flick your tongue out to lick at the stray whipped cream. The result is Jungwoo’s thumb sliding past your lips, and for whatever reason, your brain tells you to suck on the digit. And you do.

Jungwoo watches with wide eyes as you close your lips around his thumb, using your tongue to tease the tip of it as you suck. A soft moan leaves him, his eyes groaning wide. He swallows thickly.

“Oh, baby.” Jungwoo groans, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and replacing it with his lips. You all but melt into the kiss, pressing forward into him, sliding your hand into his hair to pull him closer.

You get so lost in the kiss that you forget about the rest of the people grouped around the couch. It isn’t until Jungwoo starts kissing down your neck and you let your head fall to the side that you notice.

Jaehyun and Doyoung are watching you with slack jaws, eyes locked on the blissed out expression you wear, ears straining to catch the noises you make. Johnny looks unaffected, watching with something dark in his eyes.

You try to pull away but Jungwoo growls, something so startling for the normally soft spoken man. He slides his hand up your thigh, pulling you over to straddle his waist. There’s a sharp gasp as you rock your hips down on instinct, feeling the shape of his cock through the fabric of his jeans.

“Seems a little selfish of you to ignore the birthday boy.” You and Jungwoo make out for a bit longer before Johnny speaks up. You turn your head to find Johnny standing in front of you, his hand on Jaehyun’s lower back to push him forward. “Why don’t you give him his present?” You bite your lips and turn yourself around on Jungwoo’s lap, sitting so that your back is to his chest. “What do you want?” Jaehyun seems to debate the question, glazed eyes roaming over your figure. “I want...” His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he swallows thickly. “I want to taste you.” “What the birthday boy wants.” You shrug, trying and failing to seem unaffected. In reality your panties are soaked and you’re beyond excited to have Jaehyun’s face between your thighs.

He wastes no time sliding your pajama pants off, revealing your bare legs and your panty clad core. You’d forgotten about the lacy lingerie set you’d slipped on earlier until Jaehyun snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin.

“Oh shit,” Jaehyun moans, sliding his hand up your bare legs. “You're so soft.” Doyoung laughs despite himself. “Guess that’s where all the hot water went.” You open your mouth to respond but get cut off as Jungwoo pulls your sweatshirt over your head. Similar swears echo around the room. “Fuck baby, who is this for?”

Jungwoo pinches your nipple over the fabric of your bra and your back arches, pushing your chest further into his touch. You moan softly, letting your eyes flutter closed. “Me, bitch. I deserve to feel sexy.”

“Fuck yeah, you do.” Johnny groans at the same time Doyoung chimes in with a “Look even sexier.”

You squirm as Jaehyun attaches his lips to your ankle, kissing his way up your leg until he’s at your thigh. The ticklish feeling has you squirming but you’re held in place by Jaehyun’s large palms.

A hand slides into your hair and you whine, looking up to find Doyoung staring at you with dark eyes. “Can you make me feel good, princess?” You nod, leaning forward to mouth at the bulge in his boxers and he swears, struggling to tug the fabric off with one hand. A second pair of hands land on Doyoung’s hips and the man jumps, looking back to find Johnny there. “You look like you need some help.” Is all he whispers as he slides Doyoung boxers down.

Doyoung looks ready to argue but you’re sinking your mouth down around him before he can, just sucking at the tip. He’s bitter on your tongue, but not unpleasant. It’s certainly worth it to be able to watch his eyelids fluttering closed, low moans leaving him.

A whine leaves you as Jungwoo continues to play with your chest, pinching at your nipples over the lace of your bra until there are tears in your eyes. His dick is hard against your ass and you rut back against him, drawing a sweet moan from him as he tugs harshly at your nipples. You cry out but the sound is muffled around Doyoung’s cock.

Jaehyun chooses that moment to attach his mouth to your center, kissing and sucking at your core through your panties. A whine leaves you as you buck up against his mouth, trying to get more. You go to pull off of Doyoung but then there’s another set of hands in your hair, forcing you down until Doyoung’s cock hits the back of your throat.

“Oh baby, you can do better than that, can’t you?” It’s Johnny, guiding your pace from where he stands behind Doyoung. His eyes are heavy as he watches you blow his friend, and you catch the subtle movement of his hips as he grinds against Doyoung.

You let out a muffled noise of agreement, sucking harshly on Doyoung’s cock. He fills your mouth up nicely, your lips having to stretch a little to fit him, but not too much. Tears well up in your eyes as you take him deeper into your throat, gagging lightly.

There’s a tearing sound as Jaehyun rips your panties off of your body, wasting no time before diving into your core. His nose bumps your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, his hands sliding up to grip at the back of your thighs as he tries to pull you even closer to his face. You cry out at the pleasure coursing through your veins, squirming as your mind runs a million miles an hour, trying desperately to process the situation. Jungwoo’s hands massaging your tits, Doyoung’s cock deep in your throat, Jaehyun eating you out like you’re his last meal.

You force your heavy lids open and make eye contact with Johnny. He’s watching you with fire in his eyes and it’s the last you register before you’re coming, yanking your mouth off of Doyoung’s cock and biting into the skin of his thigh. Your legs try desperately to close around Jaehyun’s head but neither him nor Jungwoo let up, working you through your high until you’re a sobbing mess. It’s only then that Jaehyun pulls away from you, though Doyoung doesn’t seem to have the same reservations. You’ve only just caught your breath when he slides his cock back between your lips, fucking into your mouth, once, twice before he’s shooting his come down your throat.

It’s quiet for a minute as you catch your breath, sagging back into Jungwoo. Jaehyun’s still between your legs, though he’s resting his head against your thigh. Your eye catches movement and you lean forward to watch Jaehyun jerk his cock desperately, hips bucking up into his hand.

You literally just came but already your body is heating back up. Suddenly you need to have all of them, need them to fuck you until you can’t even move, until they’re imprinted in your body. You run your hand through Jaehyun’s hair, tugging at the strands to make him look up at you.

“Let me take care of you now.” Jaehyun nods, blinking slowly, and then it’s a race to get to the bed. You all crowd into Doyoung’s room because he’s the one with the bigger bed, and suddenly he’s forgiven for all the times he's forgotten to do the dishes.

“God, I want to fuck you.” Jungwoo moans, clambering onto the bed. A whimper leaves you as you think about having him in your pussy, but then you look over to Jaehyun and your mouth goes dry at how desperate he looks. He has his hand shoved down the front of his pants and he’s grinding against his palm, jaw slack as he pleasures himself.

“Mhmm, me too. Jaehyun’s first though.” You pant out, trying to help Jungwoo out of his skinny jeans. Jungwoo whines impatiently. “You have two holes though. Why can’t we just share?” You vaguely hear Johnny laugh over the white noise in your brain. The idea of having both of them fuck you at once has you feeling much too hot, and you cringe as you feel more wetness drip out of you. “You seem to like that idea.” Johnny comments, stroking your side softly. You whine.

“But what about you?” You realize that he hasn’t been touched yet and you move your hand to cup him over his boxers. He hisses.

His voice is strangled as he gently bats your hand away, moving off the bed. Doyoung takes his place. “I’m okay with watching, for now. I’ll get my turn later.” You nod, turning to Jaehyun. “Jae, baby, do you want to fuck my pussy? Or my ass?” Jaehyun’s hips stutter where he’s still grinding against his hand and he looks at you with wide eyes. “Fuck, you can’t just ask me that.” He groans, pausing his movements to strip his clothes off. “God, can I fuck your ass?”

You grin, nodding. Doyoung ghosts his thumb over your ass and you jolt, moaning at the touch. “Johnny, condoms.” You wave your hand in the general direction of your nightstand and he gets the hint, throwing a handful of condoms and a bottle of lube at you.

Doyoung wastes no time in sliding one of his long fingers into your ass. The stretch has you hissing but he pays you no mind, starting a gentle rhythm and smoothing his hand down your side. Jungwoo rolls a condom on and hisses as he strokes himself, head falling back at the relief.

“Wait,” You pause Doyoung, crawling over to Jungwoo. “Wanna ride him while you finger me.

Jungwoo strokes your hips as you straddle him, sinking down onto his cock slowly. His face screws up in pleasure and he lets out a moan, the sound so pretty that it has you clenching around him. He moves to undo your bra, letting your breasts fall free so that he can bury his face between them. His hands cup them perfectly and he massages them, turning his head to leave kisses on the skin.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Jungwoo moans, the words muffled by your chest. You hum in agreement, swiveling your hips to feel the thickness of his cock, how nicely he presses against your walls.

Doyoung fucks two, then three fingers into your ass, turning you into a moaning mess as you fuck yourself onto both Jungwoo’s cock and Doyoung’s fingers. You already feel so full, but you know it’s about to get so much better.

“Jaehyun.” You moan, turning you head to find the man. “Jaehyun, come on, want you in me.” He nods, reaching for a condom, but Johnny beats him to it. You watch with a slack jaw as Johnny rolls the condom onto Jaehyun, pouring lube onto his cock. Johnny strokes Jaehyun just a little too slowly to be considered comforting, and Jaehyun’s face contorts as he tries to fuck up into the others grip.

Johnny lets go and pats his hip. “I think Y/N’s tight ass is going to feel a lot better than my hand.”

Jaehyun sits up, flustered, and moves to replace Doyoung. You whine at the loss of the man’s fingers, though you cut yourself off with a gasp as Jaehyun presses the head of his cock against your fluttering hole.

Jungwoo kisses you through the discomfort as Jaehyun slides his cock into your tight hole, stretching your body beyond anything you’ve ever felt. You can’t stop moaning and you feel like you can’t breathe, desperately trying to gasp for air. Jungwoo eventually pulls away to let you rest your forehead against his, his hand moving down to find your clit. You jolt against him and whine, molten lava filling your insides.

Jaehyun lets out an almost feral groan when he bottoms out, panting heavily. “You feel so good.” Jaehyun swears. “So fucking tight, baby. Have you ever let anyone fuck your ass before?” “Yeah, but I-” He starts moving and your voice dies, your mouth opening in a silent scream. Jungwoo fucks up into your pussy, his head falling back.

“But?” He asks sweetly, encouraging you to finish. It’s almost impossible with how they’re touching you, though. Jungwoo must know it.

“But I’ve never had two guys at once.” You whimper, giving up trying to hold yourself up and letting them manhandle you. “I feel so full.”

They build up a rhythm, tearing you apart piece by piece until you’re a mindless, moaning mess. You swear you’ve never felt this good. All your nerves seem to be set on fire, and it seems like there’s a knot building in your stomach as your climax grows closer.

Doyoung once again finds comfort in your mouth, his hips bucking up as you suck him off. You moan at how full you feel, being surrounded by three guys while a fourth one watches. It’s absolute heaven.

“Jungwoo.” Johnny calls out. “Ten just texted you. His Tinder date was a flop.” “Shouldn’t have abandoned me.” Jungwoo calls back. “Though with how tonight’s going, I’m not sure I can be mad.”

Jaehyun pulls his mouth from your neck and you whine at the loss of heat, squirming as he blows cool air over the area. “Send him a picture of us. Show him what he’s missing out on.” You make the neediest noise you’ve ever made in your life at the suggestion, and all three men swear. The vibrations travel up Doyoung’s cock and he fucks up into your mouth, choking you. “Yeah? You all okay with that?” A chorus of yes’s go around the room, though Doyoung doesn’t let you pull off of him. “Y/N? You good with that?” “You should’ve felt how fucking tight she got when you said that, she’s more than okay with it.” Jaehyun pants out.

Doyoung briefly lets go of you when Johnny says “I need to hear her say it.” You cough for a minute before yelling out a “please, yes” and taking Doyoung’s cock back into your mouth.

There’s a click as Johnny takes the picture and you clench again, sending Jaehyun and Jungwoo into a frenzy. Jungwoo groans and dips his head down to mouth at your breasts, sucking hickies into the delicate skin, taking your nipple between his lips. Jaehyun pulls his hand back to land a slap on your ass, leaving his hand there to knead at the flesh.

Doyoung moans out that he’s coming and you swallow his come for the second time that night, panting as he lets you rest your head on his thigh. A phone chimes repeatedly and Johnny laughs, turning the ringer off. “Looks like Ten liked our picture.” The thought of someone else seeing you like this, wanting to be in this situation, fills your mind and you tip over the edge, vision whiting out as you moan wantonly. You claw at Jungwoo’s shoulders as you try desperately to ground yourself, sandwiched between the two men.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Jaehyun groans, hips snapping against your ass sloppily. You whine, clenching around him repeatedly, the oversensitivity too much. Jungwoo pays no mind to the fact that you’ve just come, continuing to fuck up into you. “Fuckkk,” Jaehyun pulls out of you quickly and you hiss at the loss. Wet warmth hits your lower back, your ass, and the top of your thighs and Jaehyun curses loudly before collapsing on the mattress with a satisfied moan.

Jungwoo comes soon after with his mouth on one of your breasts, his hand on the other. You bounce on top of him to help him draw it out for as long as possible, going until he’s throwing his head back and crying out from the sensitivity.

Johnny’s the only one who hasn’t come yet. He sits next to the bed in Doyoung’s desk chair, stroking his cock slowly, almost lazily. It’s thick and long and looks delicious. You want it in your mouth.

He smirks, clearly catching your hungry gaze. “Aww, baby still wants more?” His voice is taunting but you don’t even care, just nodding obediently.

You roll onto your back and spread your legs, giving easy access to the man. Johnny just shakes his head. “Turn over. Want you on your hands and knees.” He wastes no time sliding into your dripping core, starting a brutal rhythm right from the start. You cry out and try to keep yourself up but Johnny shoves your chest to the mattress, pulling your hips higher so that he can get deeper. His body is draped over yours, his chest flush to your back. You can’t physically get any closer.

“Such a fucking cockslut.” Johnny hisses into your ear, voice low and delicious. “Letting four different guys fuck you, come on you. Bet you wish there were more.” You whine and make some sort of noise of agreement. “Ten’s probably jerking off to that picture I sent him. Does that make you happy?” Johnny nips at your earlobe and slides his hand down to rub at your clit. “Or are you upset? You probably rather that he was here, probably want his cock in your mouth too.” Another whine leaves you and Johnny pinches your clit. You thrash, the feeling too much. Your orgasm is rushing to the surface, electricity shooting through your body as the knot grows tighter and tighter. “What was that?” “I want it! Fuck, I want his cock in my mouth.” You moan, eyes rolling shut. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, ‘m gonna come.”

Johnny fucks you through your orgasm, hissing filthy words in your ear as your vision blacks out, registering nothing but how fucking good you feel. You clamp down around his thick cock and he groans, pulling out and ripping the condom off, jerking himself off all over your lower back.

Jungwoo crawls closer and kisses you, gently helping you come down. You’re shaking in your post-orgasmic bliss, lifting an arm to pull him closer. Jaehyun presses in from the other side, stroking your hair and peppering kisses all over your forehead.

You flinch when a damp cloth lands on your back and you turn to find Johnny smiling apologetically, cleaning the come off of your skin. “Sorry, I’ll try to make this quick.” A hiss leaves you as he wipes between your legs, squirming at the discomfort. Jungwoo swipes a finger through your folds and you hiss, biting his lip harshly. He giggles.

The five of you redress, both Jungwoo and Jaehyun stealing one of Doyoung’s shirts. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering where Jaehyun’s shirt went, but then you realize that it’s his shirt that he’s tugging over your head. The fabric is warm and smells amazing. You want to sink into it.

“Do you need anything?” Doyoung asks, rubbing his hand up your thigh. “You were amazing, by the way. It wasn’t too much, was it?” You shake your head. “No, it was perfect. I wouldn’t mind a piece of cake, though.”

Doyoung leaves to get the cake, complaining when he comes back and finds there’s no room for him.

("It’s my bed!”

“Okay, and? That’s also your chair.”

“Yeah, and this is my fist about to go into your face”)

It’s 1 AM when you check the time and it’s certainly much too late for them to go home so you tell them to stay, letting them arrange themselves among the couch and the guest bed.

“Doyoung?” You ask, hesitating by the door. Your bed is big and warm and empty right now, but that’s not what you want. Not after what you just experienced. It’s too empty. “Doyoung, do you think I could stay with you tonight?”

He seems surprised by your question but he nods, shifting over to give you room. “Of course. But you're the big spoon tonight.” You snort. “That’s good with me.”

The two of you arrange yourselves comfortably, and it’s so painfully nice that you could cry. You can’t even remember the last time you cuddled someone like this. “Hey Y/N? Happy Valentine’s day.” “Happy Valentine’s day. I guess it isn’t the worst holiday after all.”

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct u smut #jaehyun smut #johnny smut #jungwoo smut #doyoung smut #nct imagines #jung jaehyun smut #johnny seo smut #kim doyoung smut #kim jungwoo smut

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Would you write for John McGinn? anything at all for him haha

you got me

a nasty breakup brings you to the door of the aston villa player, ready to welcome you once again with open arms full of love.

Whistling to himself as he walks from his bathroom to the kitchen of his home, John towel dries off his hair when his doorbell sounds through the house. His immediate reaction is one of question. He tilts his head, furrows his brows and wracks his brain for a memory of potentially making plans that he had then completely forgotten about. Instead, he begins to wonder if there was a chance he had leaked his address and would be met with paparazzi or fans standing on his doorstep. The villa player draws blank on both of those thought processes, and is snapped from them when the a harsh knocking accompanies the sound of said doorbell.

His feet hurry him towards the door, taking the opportunity to look at the doorbell footage he could access from the little alarm box on the wall just next to it. His eyes are met with you standing on his porch dripping from the rain, shivering in soaked clothes and very possibly crying.

He reaches for the door immediately, tugging the heavy thing open with eyes wide, "Bloody hell, you have a key!" He exclaims, ushering you in as he removed his hair towel from around his neck to drape over your shoulders while you close the door behind you. Your lips are a little blue from the winter chill that had blown the cold rain through your clothes. "Forgot it." You chitter, entire body shivering with the painful force to try and conserve some form of heat.

John grabs a bigger towel, one that's much softer and warmer. "Strip off," he orders hurriedly, turning his back to go back into the kitchen and see if he left any clothes in his dryer from the load he put in earlier. "Sh-shouldn't you take me t-t-to dinner first?"

Your half hearted, shivering attempt at a joke doesn't make him laugh like it usually would. He turns around to shoot you a disapproving scowl. "I'll get you some warm clothes, get dried."

You do as told, or attempt to. It's hard when you can't feel your fingers to get a grip on anything more than the zipper of the zip up hoodie you'd had on. You try to shake the material from your shoulders, but your whole body is stiff with the tight muscles that the freezing temperatures had inflicted upon you.

"You'll end up with hypothermia," John rushes, dropping the warm clothes down on the cabinet by the door where you still stand, surrounded by a puddle of rainwater. He works quickly, but carefully to shed you of the zipper, then looks to you for permission to lift your t-shirt over your head. He hands you the warm, dry towel to cover yourself with so he can unclip your soaked bra. Shoes off next, he discards them off behind him as water literally pools from them. You keep that towel around you, patting at your skin as he tries to get your leggings off as painlessly as possible, but every touch still hurts. Your pants, you insist on doing by yourself even if it is a struggle while John holds up the towel.

He didn't bother to even make an attempt at pulling the hair bobble out of your hair, John just snaps the thin black band wordlessly, easily between his fingers before he orders you to flip your hair so he can tied it in another warm towel.

"Why were you out in that?" He asks as he sits you down in his cosy living room with a new, drier towel. You're still chittering, which is worrying but John had learned a lot from coaches behaviours towards the teams when they come off after games played on nights like these. "It's negative 6 degrees."

Warming up was the most important thing, just not too quickly.

You avert your eyes from his, chewing slightly on your lip. "(y/n)," John presses, moving to occupy the space on the couch next to you. You sit forward on the couch so you both sit shoulder to shoulder, his head turns to you while yours faces the floor. "David kicked me out, I didn't have my keys and my phone wasn't charged so I couldn't call you. Busses were off for the weather and the snow covered the train lines yesterday, plus I don't have any money with me so I was scuppered there too. I did some grovelling at the door then I walked here when he wouldn't let me back it."

John's jaw all but hits the floor as anger infiltrates the worry coursing through his veins.

"Don't..." you sigh, trailing off as you stand up with a loose shake of your head. "Don't look at me like that John. I'm gonna go get changed."

The sound of your bare feet padding off through his house holding the warmed pile of his clothes he gave to you was one that he would certainly like to get used to, but you had both done this dance so many times he knew it wasn't something he could count on. Usually you'll call him though, or he'll go and pick you up after a mutual breakup. You've never come on no notice and it's never been because of something like this. John hadn't heard from you in a few weeks either, you had his mind reeling.

Even more so when you reappeared, dry hair tied back out of your face with his grey joggers and black t-shirt drowning you in its size. They were him homebody comfy clothes, so they were bought to be even a little big on him. He had to admit they looked a lot better on you, though.

In the time you were gone, John had made hot chocolate and brought through his biscuit tin to sit on the couch between you both. Words weren't deemed necessary to find a movie he knew you would like. That and he knew you didn't want to talk, so even if he tried it would have been like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall.

He keeps looking over at you, trying to do so discreetly by flicking his eyes over in your direction. Those little giggles at Hugh Grants exasperated facial expressions while James Can disposes of a body in a trunk in the 1999 rom com you loved so much. The movie is good, but your reactions to every time you watch it just like each time is the first time. John can't understand why a man would ever do anything that would wipe that little grin off your perfect lips. How anyone could ever put anyone out on their doorstep in a storm like that, but least of all someone who was supposed to love you. If it were up to John, you would have been wrapped in a blanket the second the rain pour started, curled in his arms falling asleep to the sound of the thunder rumble and the rain pattering against the street. That was his dream, the one he couldn't keep a girlfriend because of. All he wanted was you and nobody else ever lived up to that.

He wishes he could scream at you, tell you that those very sorry excuses for men that you end up with and what you have with them isn't love. Or maybe you do love them, but they do not love you. They like the idea of you, someone free spirited and always ready to fall in love.

It truly seemed as though you could fall in love with anyone but the one man who wanted you the most.

Watching you fall asleep on his couch, head resting on the high armrest with knees curled up and his blanket still tucked around you with a tiny little bit of chocolate on the corner of your lip sends his heart racing a mile a minute. It feels so right to have you there. He feels guilty for enjoying it. Your heart was broken even if you wouldn't say a word about it and here he was enjoying it.

He uses his foot to push open the spare bedroom door just along the hall from his room. John lays you down carefully on top of the duvet, letting your head nuzzle into his plush pillows as your eyes remain shut in soft sleep. He grabs another blanket for you and makes sure the heating is right up in the room before he leaves you there with an ache in his chest.

He goes to check on you in the middle of the night, finding you not in the room but instead standing in his kitchen still shrouded in blankets with crazy sleep hair and tired eyes.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, startling you ever so slightly. You shrug, moving to take a seat at his kitchen island. “Woke up and got all messed up thinking about how i have literally nothing.” You mumble in response, your voice thick with the desire to burst into tears. It breaks his heart to see you so defeated, your eyes never meeting his as they stare pointedly down at the marble surface. “I’m sorry.” John says, “Really. He’s an arsehole. I can go round and grab some stuff for you tomorrow if you want.” He offers, his apology as sincere as they come. But you shake your head with only a quick glance up at him. John isn’t hot tempered at all. He’s mellow, easygoing and funny. Never quick to anger and never the type to get into a fight but by god is he protective of you. You worry about the kind of blow that would come to his career if he gets an assault charge against your ex when he inevitably doesn’t let John into the house to get any of your stuff while probably barraging you with insults.

“It’s not worth it.” You admit. “It’s less physical. Just leaves me empty, i guess. ‘Cause i gave everything to that relationship and how i have nothing left to give.” The heartbreak and the weight of your words will weigh on John’s mind probably for years to come. How someone could do that to you he will never understand. There’s nothing he wants more in this world than for you to be his to love. He wants to shower you with praise, make you realise how strong you are and remind you every single day that he loves you. That’s what you deserve. You deserve kindness and encouragement and support. He wishes more than anything to be the guy who could give that to you instead of watching you enter into relationships with the worst men he’s ever known only to see you torn down at the other side of it.

“You’ve got me.” He offers. He knows that’s probably not what you want to hear and it might not give you the kind of relief he wishes he could give. But you smile softly and stand up, shuffling over to him under blankets and his warm clothes until you reach him. You don’t really hug him, just lean against him with your cheek on his chest. John wraps his arms around you tightly and feels you sigh contently. He’s your John. The burly Scottish lad who makes you laugh when you feel like crying, who looks after you and keeps you pushing forward when life feels like it’s stacked against you. “Yeah. I love you, John.” You hum softy. John can feel the small smile on your lips against the thin material of the shirt he wore to sleep in because his house was like a sauna with the heating to keep your warm. He can tell you’re about to fall asleep there because he supports most of your weight. He holds you to him, rubbing your back soothingly as you nod ever so slightly against him.

“Even when i’ve got nothing, i’ve got you.”

#john mcginn #john mcginn x reader #john mcginn imagine #john mcginn imagines #footie fics #football fics #footballers fics #football imagines

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

Hunger

Summary: Spencer really likes his new coworkers: they're nice, welcoming, friendly, and made his transition to the BAU as easy as possible. Which makes it impossible for him to turn down an invitation to eat dinner with them at an upscale fancy restaurant, no matter how anxious that makes a boy who grew up with next to nothing feel.

Tags: insecurity, anxiety, allusions to poverty, hurt/comfort, team as family, angst with a happy ending, fluff, background jelle

TW: mentions of poverty, financial difficulties, and food insecurity

Pairing: Gen (Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid)

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This fills my "trying not to cry" bad things happen bingo square and is set a few weeks after Spencer joins the BAU, in an AU in which Elle was there before him.

Everyone is so nice, is the thing.

And that’s great. Really, it is. Spencer isn’t about to complain when JJ kindly walks him through the filing system all the while asking questions about him and his life, or when Derek ribs him gently about his ducktail hair or his nerdy brain. No-one cuts him off when he gets carried away — unless it’s time-sensitive, of course — or teases him about anything that cuts too close to home. Being the new guy in the most prestigious unit in the FBI could’ve been a nightmare, but this team made it easy. He’s so grateful for all of it.

It just makes it really hard to turn down dinner invitations.

He watches his shaking fingers in the mirror as they button his shirt up and wrap his tie around his neck, poking it fastidiously under the collar, not a wrinkle of fabric out of place. He glances down at the countertop again, re-reading the restaurant name copied down in JJ’s careful handwriting onto a piece of copier paper regardless of having committed it to memory the first time he heard it. Sur la Rivière: a fancy European restaurant in DC.

He’d hoped for a cheap and cheerful Chinese when Hotch had first brought up the idea of a team bonding dinner, something more his style, but he’d smiled anyway when Elle had mentioned this place her foodie friend had recommended, no matter how strained it might have been. He’s the new guy after all. He doesn’t expect much swing when it comes to choosing where to eat.

As soon as his shirt and tie are perfectly in place, he gets to work on taming his curly hair. It makes him look younger when it’s loose and fluffy, and with a baby-face like his combined with already being the youngest person in the entire FBI, every year he can add on counts. Soon, though, there’s no more grooming he can use to stall the inevitable, and he sighs tiredly before clicking off the bathroom light and heading to the hall.

He collects his phone and wallet, checking for the sixth time that evening that his credit card and extra money to tip the waiter is definitely in there, grabs his keys, and heads out of his apartment. Derek is in his car waiting on the curb for him like he promised he would be, looking effortlessly suave and cool in a way Spencer never will as he honks his horn at the sight of the younger man walking towards him.

“Pretty boy!” he calls, his grin making Spencer smile, too. “Took you long enough. Hop in, fancy European cuisine awaits.”

Another rush of nerves floods Spencer’s stomach at the mention of the fate he’s signed up for, but he smiles anyway as he opens the passenger door and slides in. “Thanks for giving me a lift, Derek,” he says, hating that his anxious discomfort is so obvious in his voice.

Thankfully, Derek doesn’t pick him up on it, simply pulling away from the curb and beginning the drive across town. “How many times do I have to tell you not to mention it? I live less than ten minutes away, Spencer, it’s really not a problem.”

Spencer flushes a bit at that, wringing his hands in his lap as he watches the streets of his district pass by out the window. “Well, I appreciate it anyway,” he settles on, flashing Derek a quick smile that he doubts he sees anyway with his eyes glued so firmly to the road. “Riding the metro is a nightmare at this hour.”

“Never learned how to drive? I didn’t have the money for lessons, Spencer wants to say, irrationally frustrated at his situation. I was rushed through the academy too quickly to learn something as trivial as driving.

“I was too busy getting five degrees,” Spencer says instead, forcing a smile on his face. He wishes he wasn’t so well-practiced at managing other people’s emotions; wishes he could say what he’s really thinking. But he can’t, not in front of the people he’s trying to impress, not so soon.

“Alright, alright, I get it, you’re a genius,” Derek chuckles. “I’m glad you’re coming tonight, we all are. Gideon didn’t tell us much before he left, just that you had an IQ of 187 and he’d pulled a lot of strings to get you in at only 22.”

Spencer winces slightly at the mention of his ex-mentor. “Yeah, I’m sorry he ran out on you guys so suddenly.”

“Hey, from what I hear, he did the same to you,” Derek counters. “You guys seemed way closer than we were anyway. I never really liked the guy.”

As much as most of Spencer hates Gideon for abandoning him without warning, leaving him to find his footing in the FBI alone and afraid, a small part of him still itches to defend him. “He was a good mentor. Not such a good friend, as it turns out.”

Derek looks away from the road for a moment and shoots him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, man. But Gideon’s loss is our gain. You’re gonna be an amazing asset to the team, I just know it.”

A genuine smile crosses Spencer’s face at that. “Thanks, Derek. I can’t wait to really get stuck in, you know?”

“I remember the feeling.” Derek grins again.

They continue chatting for the rest of the journey, Spencer finally relaxing into the company of a new friend— that is, until Derek cuts across one of his stories from his second PhD. “Hey, the restaurant should be up on the left somewhere but I can’t see it…

“Oh, there,” Spencer says, pointing at the sleek, almost anonymous-looking black sign hanging above a set of fancy doors. How can doors be fancy? They’re supposed to be functional, not pretentious. All of a sudden that sinking feeling that had lifted on the car ride over settles back into his stomach and he can’t help but swallow nervously as Derek parks the car and they step out into the street.

Everyone’s already seated when they finally push through the restaurant doors, and Spencer hates that he made them both late with his apprehensive stalling, but no-one really seems to mind as they all cheer happily at the sight of them, ignoring the dirty looks it earns them from the other patrons.

“You made it!” Penelope squeals as she gets up from her seat to give Spencer a hug. He’s a little touch-averse, really, but something about Penelope’s hugs make him never want to leave her arms. He does anyway, though, and he and Derek find their seats opposite one another at the end of the table.

“I’m glad you’re here, Spencer,” Hotch says kindly as the waitress passes the two late-comers their menus.

“You’ll fit right in,” JJ promises, “we’re like a weird little family, to be honest.”

Spencer flushes a bit under the attention of so many experienced FBI agents, but he nods anyway before they all get started on deciding what to eat. He listens vaguely to everyone talking amongst themselves, giving one another suggestions in a way that corroborates JJ’s statement, and all of a sudden Spencer’s collar feels tight. It’s not just the nerves of meeting new people or the anxiety of an alien social environment, he realises he doesn’t recognise a single item on the menu.

He knows what the words themselves mean, but reading the words 'tortellini of venison’ and trying to imagine deer meat pasta is not easily done. The only simple meals seem to be seafood and Spencer’s never been a fan of fish. The only food he can even begin to imagine himself actually putting in his mouth, chewing, and swallowing is the porterhouse steak: not that he’s ever really eaten much red meat like that.

Spencer isn’t a fussy eater. He’s eaten a wide variety of dishes from any number of different restaurants across multiple cuisines, he’s just never had the kind of money to eat at a place that serves caviar, for God’s sake. Far too soon, the waitress wanders back over to the table, taking everyone’s orders with a polite smile on her face.

He listens as everyone confidently orders their meals: the smoked trout, the Moroccan quail, the lobster tagliatelle. Spencer thanks the heavens he isn’t a vegetarian, at least, but it’s not much of a consolation prize when everyone’s eyes fall on him.

“Uh, I’ll have the porterhouse steak,” he says uncertainly, hoping nobody notices the sweat beading on his forehead or the anxiety raging behind his eyes.

Everyone seems to accept his answer, the waitress taking their menus and walking back towards the kitchen as the rest of them resume their conversation. Hotch’s eyes linger a moment too long on him, and Spencer thinks he sees something like concern in his gaze, but before he can think much of it, Penelope’s drawing everyone’s attention to JJ’s bracelet.

“Can we please appreciate this?” she says, sounding scandalised for some reason Spencer can’t quite discern from context yet. “Elle, baby, you have taste. This is absolutely gorgeous! Are you sure you don’t want to date me, too?”

Spencer’s eyebrows raise slightly at that. “Oh, you two are together?” he asks, although now that he realises it he’s not sure how he didn’t notice sooner.

“Are you sure you’re a profiler, kid?” Derek laughs. “They don’t exactly hide it.

“Even though they’re supposed to,” Hotch chimes in with a faux stern look. “You two are gonna have my job at some point.” “Aw, but where would we find another Unit Chief that would help us hide our secret so well?” Elle says charmingly, making everyone laugh, including JJ, who presses her face into her shoulder fondly.

It’s easy for Spencer to momentarily lose himself in the banter, smiling as they tease one another, interspersing their gripes and funny stories from work among it all. They include him in all of it, and he doesn’t feel left out for even a second, finally relaxing into the unfamiliar environment of a fancy restaurant, eased by the reassuring company of his new team.

“JJ’s right,” he muses out loud when there’s a brief lull in conversation, “you guys really are like a little family.”

JJ leans away from Elle towards him for a moment, wrapping him in a side hug. “And you’re the perfect addition to it, Spence,” she says softly, everyone’s expressions reading nothing but fond agreement. “We needed a little brother to add into the mix.”

Spencer blushes again but leans into her touch.

No-one gets a chance to say anything else before the food arrives, the servers bringing JJ and Elle’s meals first, then serving Hotch and Penelope, before they finally bring out his and Derek’s order.

Everyone dives into their food, immediately making noises of contentment, passing bites around to one another, but Spencer can’t join in the jubilant celebration of a good meal. He picks his knife and fork up shakily as he stares at the massive portion of steak in front of him. It’s served with roast potatoes and flecks of a pointless salad that he suspects is only there as a garnish rather than actually part of the meal, but that’s not what has him worried.

This huge slab of meat hasn’t been sliced beforehand. He knows that he’ll shake the whole table if he tries to do it: it’s a massive, impenetrable slab of red meat that Spencer has no chance of enjoying, let alone finishing. He stares at it as tears burn in his eyes: he’s so out of his comfort zone and he’s so terrified of messing up and pushing away these newfound friends that he can’t move.

“Spence?” JJ cuts in gently, putting a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look up, only to find everyone looking at him with worried expressions on their faces. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry,” he says, standing up abruptly, the disturbance of the table barely registering in his brain. “I just need a minute.”

He rushes out of the restaurant without looking back, drawing in deep breaths as soon as he’s in the cool evening air of spring. Thoughts race through his mind at a million miles an hour as he grasps for something concrete to grab onto, eventually settling for a tall flower pot.

“Spencer?”

He looks up to find Hotch standing next to him, deep concern written across his face, and Spencer’s heart clenches at the thought that he’s already messed this up so quickly. Could this night possibly get any worse?

Apparently, it can, because all of a sudden he feels his face crumple and the stinging tears finally spill down his cheeks. He sinks down to the ground and buries his face in his hands, humiliation glimmering in every cell of his body.

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says gently, lowering himself to the cool pavement next to him and placing a warm hand on his back. He lets him cry it out for a couple of minutes, his palm drawing small circles in between his shoulder blades, trying again to get through to him when Spencer’s sobs calm down slightly. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

With a shuddering breath, he forces himself to lift his face from his palms, although he still refuses to meet Hotch’s eyes, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the Korean restaurant across the street. “I guess it just all got to be too much,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” Hotch says encouragingly. “What specifically?”

“I— I didn’t have much growing up. It was just me and my mom so we were living in the middle of Vegas on a single disability check each month. And, uh, then I went to college, and I was barely scraping by there, too. It’s only recently that I’ve known the luxury of knowing for sure I was eating that night, and it still gets to me sometimes when I’m faced with fancy restaurants and heavy, expensive meals. My body’s had to work for years on virtually nothing, there’s no way I can stomach a steak like that. I guess, all those feelings that are a lifetime in the making combined with the anxiety of eating with the team for the first time… wanting to make a good impression, it just all got too much. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Hotch raises a hand, and Spencer finally meets his eyes, finding nothing but compassion and understanding there no matter how much he searches. “You don’t need to apologise, Spencer, not for something like this. I’m sorry that none of us thought to make the first team dinner with you a more casual affair, and I’m even more sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell us you were uncomfortable.” “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but I’m glad you accept my apology,” Hotch says, smiling softly. “You know, we all bring baggage with us, Spencer. I can’t relate to food insecurity, but I had my own issues when I first joined the BAU. I grew up with a pretty terrible father, and the thing I found myself reprimanded for the most when I was a new recruit was the inability to follow orders. I’d spent my whole life scared of this man, obeying his every word, and I couldn’t help but hear him when my superiors would tell me to do something. When I was finally free of him, it was like I couldn’t help but rebel.

“You’re not the only one whose childhood follows them around, and I’d much rather it be something like this that we can easily manage, than something that will affect you or the team in the field, okay? Instead of beating yourself up over things you can’t control, try and remember that you have a whole new family who will do anything they can to make you feel as comfortable as possible. We already think the world of you, Spencer. Sacrificing fancy dinners that — let’s face it — can’t beat cheap junk food anyway is hardly a big ask.

Warmth spreads across his chest at Hotch’s words, replacing the feelings of failure and rising anxiety with something that feels like a promise of all the good to come. There’s something fatherly, something deeply paternal in Hotch that there wasn’t in Gideon, and it’s the most comfort Spencer’s felt in years. “Really?”

“Really,” Hotch nods, squeezing his shoulder gently. “You wait here one minute, okay?”

“Okay…” Hotch is gone before he can finish replying, and Spencer is left staring at the doors confused, until the rest of the team are piling out of them a few minutes later, Hotch bringing up the rear with his jacket and wallet in hand.

“We just paid the tab. How does cheap Chinese food eaten in the park a couple hundred yards down sound?” Hotch suggests, raising an eyebrow as he smiles warmly at Spencer.

He looks around briefly at the rest of the team, who are all giving him encouraging looks, not a trace of judgement or annoyance to be found.

“That sounds amazing,” he laughs wetly, the tears springing to his eyes this time caused by a completely different emotion. “I can pay you back, though.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, pretty boy,” Derek says, patting Spencer’s back, “we’ve got it. Now, come on, I’m gonna order sweet and sour chicken balls, and I want them now.”

“That’s what she said,” Penelope giggles, linking her arm with Derek’s.

“That was terrible, baby girl, but I love that you tried.”

“Do you want to share shrimp chop suey with me, babe?” Elle asks JJ as they clasp hands, walking a couple of steps ahead of them.

“Well, I’m certainly not sharing with any of these losers,” JJ teases, before kissing Elle’s cheek.

Spencer feels Hotch place his hand on his back, and he turns to smile gratefully at the older man. “Thank you,” he says quietly, trying to convey just how earnestly he means it. “No-one’s ever done anything this nice for me before.”

There’s a slightly sad tinge to Hotch’s smile, but it doesn’t look like pity. “I’d get used to it if I were you. That’s just how we do things in the BAU.”

Well, if that’s the case, Spencer thinks, smiling as he falls into step between Hotch and Penelope, I think I might just stick around.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @jellejareau @reidology @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @im-autistic-not-stupid(taglist form)

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #criminal minds gen #criminal minds gen fic #aaron hotchner & spencer reid #derek morgan & spencer reid #derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #jelle #jennifer jareau #elle greenaway #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #hurt spencer reid #hurt/comfort

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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

line without a hook.

mingi x reader; lovers to strangers au

word count: 13k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death)

you could personally never understand one’s desire to run as far away from their hometown as they could.

maybe it’s because you’ve had the privilege of growing up in a beautiful, prosperous place, with cozy winters, amazing festivals and snowfalls on the frozen lake before spring came and melted it away.

maybe it’s because you have fond memories tied back to this picturesque place, shops and restaurants surrounding the lake in a way that almost seemed too magical to really exist.

you’ve met so many different people purely because of that sight, men and women of different cultures and backgrounds always so eager to take in your hometown’s natural beauty.

fortunately for you, the lake ran right through your yard and acted as a place of solace where you could get away from everything in the busy, touristy town.

a place you went when you were feeling happy, sad, angry or when, truthfully, you didn’t know how to feel.

it’s also where you first met your boyfriend, one of the many come and go visitors, who introduced himself as mingi.

except he had walked right through your backyard like he owned the place, a small smile on his handsome face as he took in the sight of the frozen water.

he looked at it with such wonder and fascination, like he’d never seen anything like it before in his life; and you can remember that night, even with how you’re feeling right now, that he looked at you the same way.

it’s the only thing that reminds you, at some point, you two must have really loved each other.

two years ago - december 13th

you were hunched over your desk finishing the last of your final essay, only a page left before you could throw every syllabus away and rejoice at having two months of winter break.

it was a chilly night but you couldn’t help but be outside on the porch, a big warm sweater and fuzzy socks on as you read over your work so far.

you’d gotten used to the sounds of nature, the chirping of birds, pitter patter of animal feet and even the loud, slightly terrifying barks of deer.

but the footsteps crunching on the leaves in your driveway definitely weren’t those of chipmunks or rabbits, your strained neck craning over to see a tall figure walking right past your porch and deep into your backyard.

strangely enough, whether it be the frigid temperatures getting to you or the stress of finishing this paper, you weren’t panicked; the man technically wasn’t even on your property, he was right outside of it along the grass that turned to decking.

so you continued to make revisions and edit your paper silently, your eyes fluttering up ever so often to check on the mysterious, tall figure. his shoulders were broad and his hair was messy, that much you could tell from your spot on the porch.

when five minutes past, then ten, then twenty, and he had still yet to move or realize he was in someone’s yard, you decided to investigate - because one, how long could he really stare at this frozen mass of water and two, your head was pounding from looking at this stupid document.

so without an ounce of fear or hesitation, you wrapped your sweater tighter around your body and made your way down to the man.

your slippers were loose so the last remaining bits of snow were seeping into your socks, a slight grimace on your face when the coldness touched your skin.

the sound of crunching snow caused him to turn around, his lips quirking up into a small smile when you came into view.

it was when you got closer that you saw just how attractive he was, pale skin that glowed, plump lips that were slightly chapped and messy hair that looked even better up close.

he looked different than most locals and tourists around here, many of them pastel wearing men who wouldn’t dare stick an earring in their skin.

but the man in front of you had a completely different vibe, earrings and chains and a gray t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest despite the freezing temperatures tonight.

a few minutes of silence pass, neither him nor you concerned about filling it; it seemed as if he could’ve stared at the lake just as long as you could’ve wondered why the hell he liked it so much.

“aren’t you cold?”

more silence passed and for a second you think maybe he didn’t hear your blurted out question.

but then you discover he did when he looked at you with a smirk, the snow crackling underneath him as he shifts to take in your big sweater and pink slippers.

“no.”

it’s a short and simple response but his voice is somehow incredibly warm, looking at you with a twinge of soft light in his eyes before he opens his mouth again.

“why? are you?”

a confused smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head, looking over his bare (muscular) arms conspicuously.

“no. but i’m not wearing a t-shirt in december.”

he sends a smile your way, his large body turning allowing you to fully take in just how big he is. you feel incredibly small next to him and it should probably make you nervous - a large, stranger unwelcomed in your yard and staring down at you.

but there’s a weird sense of tranquility over both of you in this moment, the moon shining off the frozen lake as his gaze meets yours.

“well that’s a good thing,” he hums, your eyebrow quirking up before he continues. “because i don’t have a jacket to give you.”

a surprised chuckle leaves your mouth that has a smile spreading across your face and he feels his own doing the same at the sight of it.

“what makes you think i’d take a jacket from a stranger?”

his eyebrow raises after a few seconds of pondering the rhetorical question, his large hand suddenly coming between your bodies.

“my name’s mingi. i’m staying a few houses over at my aunt’s for the holidays.”

your lips purse together as you wrack your brain for which neighbor it could possibly be, remembering that the woman who brought you left over lasagna for thanksgiving mentioned her nephew was coming for christmas and new years.

she didn’t mention that her nephew looked like this or that he went onto the property of anyone he pleased.

“i’m y/n,” you say, taking your smaller hand in his cold one before a teasing smiles crosses your face. “and we’re actually standing in my backyard. so thank you for trespassing so politely, mingi.”

his eyes widen as an embarrassed look crosses his face, the small hint of pink on his cheeks just as endearing as it is humorous.

“i- i’m so sorry, oh, my god,” he chuckles out, your cold hands still intertwined. “my aunt said i could take the first road i saw to get to the lake. that there was a better view down here than from her house.”

and you can see in his eyes the exact moment his next sentence came into his mind, like he thought it was gonna be the smoothest and coolest thing he’d ever said.

“and it looks like she was right.”

the loud laugh that bubbles out of you is uncontrollable, mingi’s quickly following as his cheeks turn even more pink.

“sorry, i couldn’t help myself,” he mumbles sheepishly, sounding completely unapologetic as he finally pulls his hand away from yours; you try not to think about how much colder your hand feels now, quickly sticking it in the pocket of your sweater to compensate.

“right,” you quip, a tiny giggle leaving you as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. “but really, you should probably get a jacket if you’re gonna be out here a lot. you don’t wanna get sick and it can get pretty cold here.”

“will do,” he hums, his eyes roaming yours and making your heart jump in your chest; he really is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen.

there’s a few beats of silence as he cranes his neck to look out at the lake, eyes roaming what seems like every piece of frozen ice and snowy tree surrounding it.

“my aunt actually told me people sometimes skate on it.”

“yeah,” you confirm with a nod, taking the time to look at the beauty you take for granted every day. “it’s thick enough this year. sometime we’re not allowed.”

“cool,” he says with a smile, a slight shiver running through him that makes you frown. “so... can i come back here to do that?” he asks, his eyes hopeful and soft as he looks at you. “or should i use the real path?”

your eyebrows pull together at his question, confusion covering your face but only meeting his cocky, playful one.

“are you asking if we can skate together?”

he bites down on his lip so he doesn’t smile larger, his tongue peeking out just before his teeth make contact.

“yeah,” he hums lowly, the deep tone of his voice sending butterflies through your stomach. “i guess i am.”

your lips quirk to the side as you weigh out the pros and cons.

you’re on your own a lot and definitely miss talking to someone.

he’s attractive and funny and seemingly nice enough.

you know his aunt and can easily confirm his story, the chances of him being a murderer who moseyed into town considerably low.

the only con you can think of is falling on your ass in front of him and even that it isn’t such a deal breaker.

so you smile at him and nod your head, a melodic “okay,” leaving your mouth that has him smiling back at you just as sweetly.

present day:

you knew going to this dinner with mingi was gonna end in disaster.

you were both too on edge after your fight this morning, past the point of screaming and yelling for hours that, now, you’ll exchange a few harsh words at each other before falling silent.

you’ve learned that the tense silence after a fight is worse than screaming and yelling.

at least with that, it seems as if there’s still some passion there. there’s words being exchanged and feelings coming to the surface that both people feel motivated enough to express.

but with the silence, you’re both bottling it up.

deeming it useless and letting it brew and brew and brew until one of you goes completely over the edge - and more often than not, that person is him.

the car ride over is no better, not even the radio playing to distract you both from the building tension in the air.

your friends know immediately that something is up, yunho eyeing mingi and san eyeing you; yunho, san, seonghwa, and wooyoung had been your friends since elementary school.

you’d been through a lot with them and have seen each other at all your highs and lows.

throughout your two-year relationship with mingi, him and yunho had grown especially close and it was sweet to see; you knew it was important for mingi to have another friend in a place he didn’t grow up in and you were genuinely happy they created a great friendship.

“hey guys!” wooyoung chirped happily, already chowing down on the chips and salsa in the middle of the table. “how is everyone?”

and like he’s almost oblivious to the tension in the room, mingi only mumbles a grumbled “fine,” before he starts happily babbling again. you try a little harder to put up on a happy front, giving wooyoung a small smile as you talk to him about your last semester of school.

as the dinner goes on, appetizers turning to meals and meals turning to alcohol, mingi downs sangria after sangria before he becomes a lot more chatty.

“oh, shit, there he is,” wooyoung smiles happily, a drunken flush to his face as he pokes his arm playfully. “you were scaring me for a hot second. looking all pissed off and shit.”

“that’s because i was pissed off. still am, if i’m being honest, woo,” mingi says, a conniving hint in his tone as he finishes the last of his drink.

your eyes immediately move to him and you’re quick to narrow them, hoping and praying he doesn’t start round two in this public restaurant right now; but apparently, that’s exactly what he plans on doing.

“what’s with the face, y/n?”

mingi spits your name out like it’s the last thing he wants to say, a quietly snapped “nothing,” leaving your mouth.

san and yunho look to each other immediately, concern on both their faces as they feel the tension start creeping back up.

they knew something was wrong the second you both came in, have known things have been off between you two for months, and it was even more obvious when you immediately took the seats a few spots away from each other.

“nothing?” he asks, his voice deep and gravely due to his anger and the alcohol. “because it sure looks like you wanna say something.”

“i don’t have anything to say to you.”

“you never do, do you, babe?” he asks, his humorless laugh and vindictive tone making your skin prickle.

“did you even miss me?”

your eyes meet his from across the table when he finally speaks, your eyebrow raising as you two stare at each other blankly.

he had left two nights ago after telling you he needed space, not hearing a word from him until he came barreling through the door just a few moments ago at seven a.m.

you’d just gotten up to make yourself coffee, plagued with worry and upset over your fight and his lack of communication.

“maybe if you looked at your phone, you’d know.”

because how could he think you wouldn’t miss him? how could he think you’re actually okay with him leaving after every fight? not hearing from him for a day or two while you stay in this apartment and let your mind go off into every worst case scenario.

a humorless laugh can only leave him as he shakes his head.

“of course you’re putting the blame back on me. i just can’t make you happy, can i, y/n?”

“you staying after a fight would make me happy. but of course, you can’t do that for me, can you?”

he doesn’t say anything and instead just clenches his jaw painfully tight.

you watch it tick dangerously and instead of feeling anger or sadness, you just feel utterly defeated; you don’t know how many times you guys have had this exact conversation.

a fight will happen.

he yells, you cry.

you just want him to see your tears and obvious pain and stop the yelling.

hold you and kiss your hair and mumble that you guys are gonna figure this out and get passed it.

he leaves, you stay silent.

he just wants you to fight for him a little.

call him out on his shit and prove to his insecure self that you still love and care for him, even though he’s a dick. ask him to please stay because he wants to figure this out and get passed it.

but then he comes back and you’re both okay for a bit, just for the cycle to repeat itself over and over.

“is that why you leave, mingi?” you speak again, looking at him curiously as you shake your head.

“make me sit here and worry about you for days, while you purposely ignore me, just so i can tell you i miss you? is that what you want?”

the words are on the tip of his tongue. that yes, that’s exactly what he wants from you.

but the words are also on the tip of your tongue. that you want his first instinct to be to stay. to stay here and talk things out with you before immediately jumping up to flee.

he wants you to tell him you miss him but you want him to tell you he loves you, that he loves you enough to stay when you guys fight; but right now, neither of you are even sure if that’s true anymore.

“i don’t know about y/n, you guys,” mingi says suddenly at dinner, the drunken slur to his voice evident to everyone. “i love her but sometimes.... i think i actually fucking hate her.”

you feel your heart sink when those words leave his mouth, your face dropping just as the boys call out his name roughly.

“mingi, what the fuck,” san growls from across the table; but the boy is completely unbothered, shrugging his broad shoulders as he looks directly at you.

“how ‘bout you, babe? how do you feel about me?” he asks, leaned back against his chair like he’s completely calm, cool and collected.

“i’m not having this discussion with you right now.”

“you never want to have this discussion,” he mocks, the anger and rage in his eyes only making your blood boil even more.

“i’m getting tired of it, y/n. i’m getting tired of all this shit.”

his voice is raising and you’re becoming increasingly embarrassed, knowing that the last place for this blowout fight is in front of your friends in a public setting.

“mingi, this really isn’t the place to-”

“shut up, yunho, we’re gonna finally-”

but you’re not intending on doing anything, already feeling humiliated and belittled as you get up from your seat and walk toward the door.

you leave your bag and jacket so the boys know you’re not leaving, hoping and praying that your drunk asshole of a boyfriend follows you outside; and sure enough, two minutes later, you smell his familiar cologne when the door opens.

neither of you say anything for the first few seconds, him leaned against the wall and you facing him with your hands on your hips.

“what’s your problem?”

it’s the first thing you think to ask, looking at him with such concern and defeat in your eyes.

you hope he can see it but you’re sure he can’t, far too absorbed in whatever he’s been going through for the past few months to notice.

“i don’t have a problem.”

“you obviously do,” you snap, your voice raising as you take a step closer to him.

“you just embarrassed me in front of everyone and you’re acting like a fucking child. we could’ve had this conversation at the house instead of not speaking for days.”

“why? so you could just turn shit around on me or ignore what i’m saying?” he snaps back, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you. “maybe we need an outside source to listen.”

“not our friends, mingi, and not at a public dinner when you’re getting drunk.”

“you always have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he snaps, his jaw clenching and eyes flaring as he continues to peer down at you.

“and it’s always on me. when we tried to talk this morning, you blew me off, too, y/n. it’s like you don’t ever wanna have this discussion.”

“because i don’t know what you want me to say, mingi. how many times do i have to repeat myself and tell you i don’t know what you want from me?”

“have you ever thought that maybe that’s the fucking problem, y/n? that after all of this, you still don’t know what i want from you? are you fucking stupid?”

“are you fucking stupid?” you yell back, the suppressed anger and rage you knew was brewing boiling over right here and now.

“you want me to tell you that i miss you when you leave every other week, mingi? why would i tell someone that who could give a shit? i could tell you i miss you or that i’ll miss you and you’ll still fucking leave me.”

“how do you know?” he snaps, “you’ve never tried!”

“i’ve never tried?” you yelp, tears of frustration burning your eyes as you look at him.

“what’s me texting you when you leave like a little bitch every single time? or me obviously worrying when you pull that stupid shit over and over? i’ve been trying mingi and you don’t care! you leave me crying alone every single time!”

he meets your gaze with fire in his eyes and you can only stare back with tears in yours, waiting for him to scream something before he decides to kick over the metal garbage can a few feet away from you.

you watch as it clatters against the side walk, a loud, deep “fuck!” leaving him as you watch him blankly. his chest is heaving and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself right now but you also don’t know anymore.

because you’re shaking inside and out and feel like you wanna throw up, knowing that right now you both look like the worst type of couple; but it’s nothing compared to how you feel, how even though you don’t want to, you can’t stop yourself from acting out on these negative feelings.

“and if i never try, mingi, then just leave again,” you say, tears blurring your vision and a lump growing in your throat. “you can stay and come home with me tonight. or you can leave. at this point, i’m too tired to care.”

you weren’t surprised to go home alone that night.

watch as seonghwa and yunho helped your boyfriend to their car and promised that he’d be back in a few days; you were only able to sleep soundly that night because you knew he was safe with them.

but it didn’t stop you from crying yourself to sleep that night, the night after that and the night after that for the next week; the same would’ve probably happened the next night, too, at least for a little bit, had you not heard your front door open just after midnight.

you were getting in one last episode of your drama when mingi returned home, craning your neck back to see him lazily kicking off his shoes at the front door.

his head looked up to meet your gaze, the glow of the tv hitting him just enough to tell you he looked like shit.

he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was tousled messily, like he hadn’t washed it since you last saw him. his face was sunken and pale as if he’d been away in the wild for months opposed to his friend’s house for just a little over a week.

but when he’s away from you, this is what happens each and every time - he can’t sleep or eat or function properly.

he’s only plagued with the thought of you, memories running through his mind or constantly wondering what you’re doing. if you’re safe and feeling okay or if something bad is gonna happen to you because he’s not there.

the couch dips next to you before you feel his skin graze yours, a quietly mumbled “hey,” like he just came in from work casually spoken through the air.

you crane your neck up at him to look in his sunken eyes, an uncontrollable frown on your face as you swipe your finger across his purple skin.

it’s the softest touch he’s received in a week and he’s missed it more than he cares to admit. shutting his eyes and smiling slightly when he hears you mumble “hi” back.

you bask in each other’s comfort and warmth for the rest of the episode in silence, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm wound tightly around you until the tv screen falls black.

you two walk into bed and he pulls you down with him, your head falling to his chest and his hands in your hair. you moan against him sleepily and it’s a sound he’s missed so dearly, tightening his hold on you as he feels his body immediately relax.

you’re both completely comfortable and at ease, days of worrying finally calmed as you’re beside one another again.

but even with this comfort, even with the familiar feel of each other’s skin and warmth soothing both of you, you know it won’t be enough.

because you still don’t say you missed him and he still doesn’t tell you he loves you.

a year and 11 months ago - january 10th

you weren’t sure if it was possible to fall in love in less than a month but it really felt as if you and mingi did.

from the moment you saw him two days after your initial meeting, skating together and braving the frozen lake together, your connection was immediate.

you’d spent everyday with each other, frolicking through the town in the afternoon before going back to your house at night.

you usually spent it cuddled up on the couch or making food in your kitchen, his arms wrapping around your waist before tossing you up on the counter playfully.

“you didn’t strike me as a chef,” you tell him, watching him stir a pot of noodles with a content look on his face.

“well, i didn’t strike you as a rapper either,” he says, a smirk on his face as a giggle leaves your mouth.

you learned that mingi was an aspiring rapper, him and his friend hongjoong trying to get their foot in the door for the past year. you listened to a few of their songs and even got a live performance from him, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you watched him.

in a fit of absolute astonishment, because you didn’t think mingi could get any more attractive, you blurted out that he didn’t seem like a rapper. that his personality was too “cute and charming” despite the deep growl to his raps and voice.

“i told you just personality wise,” you whine with a pout, reaching your hand out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “but appearance wise, absolutely. you’re very tough. very cool looking. i’m scared of you.”

“you’re making this a lot worse for yourself, baby,” he hums lowly, another giggle leaving your mouth as you bite down on your lip.

“did your friend hear back from that producer yet?” you ask him curiously, your legs criss-crossed as you sit on the counter and peer up at him.

he looks over to see you staring at him all wide-eyed and interested, a soft, happy glint in your gaze that makes his heart pull in his chest.

he hasn’t even known you for a month but he’s never been this happy before.

he’s never had anyone be there for him the way you’ve been, dedicating their time to him and being so actively interested and supportive of his decisions; it also doesn’t help that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both inside and out, that made him extend his trip a week longer.

he couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to you yet and he’s still not sure if he can; he’s grown incredibly attached to you and it’s something he’s never felt before.

something all consuming and magical that’s making him incredibly vulnerable.

“not yet,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming your face.

your eyebrows pull together when you notice the way he’s looking at you, soft and sweet with a fondness that makes your heart flutter dangerously.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

a smile crosses his face as he lowers the heat on the stove, caging your body in and cocking his head to the side. he bites down on his lip when he sees your eyes widen, a large hand coming up to push pieces of hair out of your face.

“because i’m happy i met you.”

a small, touched smile pulls at your lips as you peer up at him, raising your own hand to smooth out the chain around his neck.

your fingers brush against his warm skin and it’s like there’s electricity coursing through both of you, your bodies close and hot breath wafting together.

“i’m happy i met you too, mingi.”

his heart soars at the way you say his name, eyes falling to your lips as he presses himself closer to you. you push yourself against the cabinets, swallowing the lump in your throat when you follow his gaze.

your tongue peeks out to lick over them unconsciously, your own eyes falling to his lips. you feel your stomach swoop dangerously, wanting so badly to feel them on yours - they’re one of the first things you noticed about him.

“y/n?”

“hm?” you hum, your eyes lingering on his mouth before hazily meeting his eyes; and there you see it, the soft intensity you’ve yet to grow used to.

you’ve seen this look from him more times than you can remember despite the short time you’ve known each other.

on the lake when you two were skating, grasping each other’s hands and giggling as you tried to keep yourselves from falling back.

in town when your hands bumped and you’d stop dead in your tracks to look at each other, completely unaware of the people around you giving each other knowing looks.

on the couch when you’d allow your head to rest on his shoulder, cuddling closer to him because the weather is really cold for january and you need body heat.

but it’s never been as strong as it now.

your heart’s never been beating this fast and you haven’t been able to feel his own pounding against his chest. probably because he was nervous to ask-

“can i kiss you?”

neither of you can remember what happened after he uttered those words.

just that one minute, he said it and the next, your mouths were connected. parting on one another’s as he completely caged your body with his.

your arms wound around his neck and he hummed contently against your mouth, slipping his tongue in when you started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

he had half the mind to turn off the stove before carrying you to the couch, your legs wound tightly around his waist as every hint of desire and want overtook you.

he plopped himself down as you situated yourself on his lap, lips never disconnecting. you moaned against him when you felt his body underneath yours, tongues colliding and mouths pulled into smiles.

his hands gripped onto your hips gently, pulling your body closer to his as your kisses grew hungrier and more intense.

you finally pulled apart for air with heaving chests and red, puffy lips, your eyes meeting and every hint of vulnerability and longing in them.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he finally says softly, almost whispering it in fear that someone else would hear.

but this house is empty. it always is and it has been for quite some time.

until you met him and he completely changed your life.

now there were two pairs of shoes at the door and two empty cups in the sink. there was someone to talk to and someone to be in the silence with.

because you’ve learned over this past month that even a silence with someone else is way better than the silence of being alone.

“me... me too,” you admit shyly, a warm blush creeping up on your face. “i’m... really, really happy you’re here, mingi.”

his eyes widen when he sees tears well up in your eyes, his mouth pulled into a frown as he brings his hands to your face.

but you only shake your head before he can comment on it, placing your hand atop his before connecting your lips again.

he meets the kiss with the fervor you need, everything about it soft and sweet and passionate. like you guys know time is running out and you need to fit it all in.

“that producer got back to me and wants to meet in person so you’ll be home next week, yeah?” hongjoong asked mingi over the phone, the boy laid out on his bed a few days later.

he can only keep replaying the memory of you in his mind, the tone of your voice and the teary look in your eye when you told him how happy you were that he’s been here.

there was a certain type of sadness behind you that he hasn’t been able to shake, making it incredibly hard for him to pick a day to just pack up his car and go.

“i... uh. i don’t know, yet.”

“what?” hongjoong asked.

him and mingi had been waiting to meet producers for months, getting either put on a list or straight up rejected. and now when they have a chance, “you don’t know yet?”

mingi licks over his lips as he hears the disbelief in his friend’s voice, knowing that hongjoong won’t be able to believe this. they’ve been waiting for this moment ever since they were in high school and had the dream of rapping as a duo.

he was only supposed to be here for a few days and now it was almost a month. what could possibly be keeping him there? what could possibly have made mingi-

“what could you possibly not know, mingi? we’ve been waiting for this moment for years. you even extended your trip for a bullshit reason thinking i’d really buy it.”

“okay but my aunt really did need help around the house...” he mumbles because yes, she needed help around the house as she redid her bathroom but she was quick to hire professionals so, technically not a lie.

“so what, what’s your excuse this time? did you meet some chick?”

there’s a silence that stretches over the phone for what feels like hours, mingi attempting to find any words before hongjoong lets out a loud groan.

“a girl? mingi, are you fucking kidding me?”

“i really like her, hongjoong,” mingi tells his friend, a sweet genuineness and innocence in his deep tone. “i really, really like her and i... i don’t think i can leave her yet.”

he reluctantly opens up to hongjoong about you, telling him that you’re in school and live alone in this quiet little lake town. that you and him have been spending every second together and he’s never felt this way about anyone before.

“i’m happy for you, man, i really am,” hongjoong says, never having heard his friend talk like this before. “but i mean... is she worth changing your plans? what the hell is there for you?”

he wants to say that you. you’re there.

the girl he’s known for less than a month but has gotten him so tight around her finger - and once he leaves, will still be here.

except she’ll be within the walls of her house all alone again, in a town based off people coming and going where she’s never seemed to have a stable relationship with anyone.

where she now knows what it’s like to spend every day with someone and look forward to their company every morning and night. spend hours talking until the sun rises and sleep until it’s dark out.

“i wouldn’t be changing my plans that much. i still have our music, hongjoong. we can still do shit even if i live here.”

“live there?!? hongjoong blurts out, “you’ve been there for a less than a month, dude, that’s fucking crazy. you’ve barely know her and you’re gonna move there?”

“i can’t leave her.”

he didn’t think at the time that it was crazy. he didn’t think he’d ever come to regret that decision because, at the time, he really couldn’t imagine leaving you.

he couldn’t picture himself hugging you goodbye and telling you that you’d keep in touch via texting and facetime.

he couldn’t picture going back home with a genuine smile on his face when it felt as if he left behind something, someone, would could make him the happiest he’s ever felt.

he couldn’t picture that he’d ever come to resent you because when he told you he was gonna consider staying in town longer, a bit more permanently, the smile that lit up your face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“really?” you smile, jumping up from your spot on the couch and running over to him.

you’re so smiley and happy and bouncy until you’re not, your face dropping ever so slightly when you look over his face.

“but wait... what about the producer? did he ever answer?”

“he did. hongjoong’s meeting with him tomorrow.”

your eyes widen at the news but he’s quick to cut you off, bend down and press a long, lingering kiss to your lips before scooping you up into his arms.

“but i told him there was something better for me here.”

present day:

he wasn’t sure when the resentment started.

he just knew that, one minute he loved you, and the next, he started to question everything.

it could’ve been from seeing hongjoong’s success, album after album and talk of him all over social media right in his face every day.

it could’ve been his lack of success, pursuing a music degree via online school while still keeping up with his previously established career as a rapper; it was enough to get the bills paid and keep his name lingering around but that’s all it was now.

it could’ve been that all of his passion was gone and he blamed you for that; because if it weren’t for you, he’d be with hongjoong now. he’d be making money and feeling inspired and at the peak of his creativity and motivation.

but he loves you, right? he loves you more than he’s loved anyone in the world and he made the right decision.

“sometimes i question if i made the right decision.”

it was a relativity quiet night for you and mingi, the past few days calm and uneventful, so you knew a fight was bound to happen soon.

and with that statement, it seemed as if the night was quickly headed in that direction.

“what do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your textbook.

he was sat on the love seat opposite you, computer in his lap and a beer on the side table as he watched you. he’d been wordlessly watching you all night and you hadn’t been sure what to make of it.

now, you can see, he might’ve been watching you with disdain.

“i mean i sometimes wonder if i made the right decision in staying here. just... so quickly not accepting that producer’s offer with hongjoong’s.”

his words hurt you more than you let on, your stomach sinking and knotting as you let his words sink in.

you had asked him for weeks after he made that decision if he was sure.

if something he worked so hard on and something he looked forward to for so long was something was worth giving up.

and anytime you asked, he’d say the same thing.

“you’re worth it.”

you wonder now if he said it so many times to qualm your ever present worries or to convince himself. tell himself over and over again that, yes this girl is worth staying here and no, i won’t come to resent her.

it’s something you worried about in the beginning but faded with time.

because your love grew stronger and you both became more secure. your relationship was the closest thing to perfect you’d ever experienced.

but not now.

now it’s a fucking disaster.

“where did that even come from?”

you can hear to your own ears how shaky and unsure your voice sounds. it’s filling you with as much shame as it does embarrassment, knowing that you can’t even talk to your own boyfriend openly and honestly.

without feeling upset, like you know you have to walk on eggshells or can’t express how much he’s been hurting you.

“i don’t know, i’ve just been thinking,” he hums, taking a swig of his beer as he adjusts himself on the couch.

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, only humming lowly as you nod your head.

you lick over your lips as you look back down uncomfortably, blankly staring at the words of your textbook. your brain can’t absorb any of the terms or phrases on the page, the sinking, awful feeling in your stomach taking over.

you can’t even remember how long you’ve felt like this.

when butterflies turned to this gut wrenching, awful feeling.

like the feeling before a plane takes off or you have a presentation to do or when the one person you’ve loved in this world has decided they don’t want you anymore.

“i stayed for you.”

the words you feared hearing pierce the air and you hold back a shaky breath, biting the inside of your cheek so harshly you’re hit with the metallic taste blood.

you look up and see his eyes narrowed in on you, tears burning the back of yours as you beg them not to fall.

because you can’t keep crying in front of him just for him to ignore you. to just watch you lose it with a blank look in his eyes, instead of holding you or attempting to soothe you.

“i couldn’t leave you alone in your house,” he begins, like the words he’s rationalizing in his head are coming out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“i wasn’t ready to leave you yet and i didn’t even think twice about how i would feel in the future. because i was so fucking consumed by you, y/n.”

there’s an obvious and palpable pain in his voice and it makes your gut wrench even more; you hate that he’s in pain but you’re in pain, too. you were in pain before him and now you’re in pain because of him.

“i’m still consumed by you but i feel...angry now. i feel so fucking angry, y/n, and i don’t know why. i don’t know if i’m mad at you or myself but i know i stayed for you. if i never met you, i never would’ve stayed here and now i feel like i’m stuck.”

“but i never asked you to stay, mingi,” you whimper out, the tears quickly coming to the surface.

they’re a mix of sadness and frustration, because it hurts so much hearing this, the obvious regret in his words, but it also makes you mad - that was his choice and his choice alone.

and it’s like he knows that too. because he doesn’t say anything in response, just continues to stare at you with a look in his eye that breaks your heart.

“i asked you so many times if you were okay with doing that,” you begin after moments of silence, your teary, wet gaze meeting his. “i asked you again and again because i knew you’d come to regret it.”

“i’m not saying i regret it, i’m just saying i-”

“you’re saying you stayed here for me like it’s my fault,” you say, shaking your head as tears leak from your eyes and down your cheek. “like i asked you to and like meeting me was your downfall. but i never told you to and i would’ve never ever expected you to.”

“what, so i was just supposed to leave you alone?” mingi growls lowly, emotion behind his tone that’s almost masked by the brashness.

he can’t help but feel all of this coming up, all of these feelings he’s been going through these past months and making him a completely different person.

“why would i have left you when i knew i loved you?”

neither of you focused on loved being past tense, probably because it’s a fact both of you know by now.

“i didn’t want anything else but you in that moment.”

“do you want a prize, mingi?” you snap, every defensive and defeated emotion coursing through your veins.

“you could’ve left me alone. you could’ve just left the way you wished you did so fucking badly. you would’ve saved yourself all of this obvious regret.”

“you think i regret staying with you?” he asks, his voice low and deep as he rises from the chair.

his frame is tall and broad and looming as he walks closer to you, standing over your chair as you sit there and stare up at him. his eyes roam your face and he follows the few tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands stiffly hanging at his sides.

he used to hate seeing you cry.

it used to make him wanna destroy whatever was hurting you. he used to kiss your tears away and wouldn’t let you leave his arms until you were smiling and laughing again.

“well, what do you call this?” you whimper quietly, sniffling and stuffy and feeling small tears stream down your face.

“you basically said if it weren’t for me, you’d be happier with your life. and i... i was so happy when you decided to stay, mingi, i’m not gonna lie to you. i was so happy because i knew we would love each other so much,” you whimper out, the knot in your throat making it difficult to speak.

“but i also knew that one day, you would probably regret it and resent me. it’s why i asked you over and over and over again. because i was so scared this was gonna happen.”

his mouth grows dry as he licks over his lips, a burning behind his eyes as he hears your voice break. he’s quick to shake his head and blink away the tears, though, because he knows if he starts crying, he’s never gonna stop.

“i thought you would leave with me eventually,” he’s finally able to get out, his throat clogged and voice gruff as he voices his innermost thoughts and wishes.

you compromised for him once, why wouldn’t you do it again?

“i thought if you actually loved me the way you claimed to, you’d be able to go.”

“well, i was always honest with you about that too,” you murmur, feeling utterly defeated and guilty as you meet mingi’s glossy eyes. “you know i never intend on leaving.”

a year and 5 months ago - june 19th

he learned about your parents accident on the 4th year anniversary of their death.

he had noticed that week you were especially gloomy, a sad look in your eye and the fake smile on your face making him cling to you just a bit more than usual.

and apparently, you had noticed too.

“mingi, are you okay?”

the words were muffled against his shirt, your face pressed against his chest as the two of you lay on the couch. his hand had been running up and down your back gently all night, like he’d been trying to calm you without any words.

like he knew there was something wrong, even though you hadn’t said a word.

his eyebrows pull together in confusion, placing his fingers under your chin. he lifts your face as his eyes search yours, that sad look behind them masked by a soft curiosity.

you’re trying to hide your pain because you think he’s hurting and that alone only makes him even more sad.

“of course i am, baby. but are you okay?”

you can’t find it in you to say yes so you only nod shyly, a small smile gracing your face as you look at him.

his eyes are full of such warmth and love that it makes tears prick behind your eyes, dropping your gaze quickly as you bury your face back in his chest.

the movement causes him to swallow nervously, adams apple bobbing as he presses his lips to the top of your head.

he knows something’s wrong. he knows something’s very wrong but he doesn’t know what happened or what’s brought this on.

“you can tell me anything,” he mumbles against your hair, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. “you know that, right?”

because he also noticed that you started seeming off when he mentioned moving in together, looking at apartments in town for himself before getting the idea to live with you.

you guys are already together all the time, it only made sense for you two to live together as well.

but he could tell immediately the idea unsettled you, you clutching desperately on to him as you muttered that you’d think about it.

at first, he would’ve assumed you didn’t wanna go that far with him. that it was too serious a commitment and you were completely uncomfortable with that.

but it was the way you were clinging to him, burying your face in his chest like you were begging him not to leave you that made him realize something deeper was going.

it’s why he dropped it at first. looked for apartments on his own with the idea that, best case scenario, you’d move in with him too.

could that be what’s wrong right now? you dealing with moving in with him and fears coming from that? or something else entirely?

he just knows that when he starts to hear you cry quietly into his chest, he needs to know what’s been wrong because he hates seeing you like this.

“hey, hey, hey,” his deep voice mumbles, large hands pulling you from his chest and wiping at your face. “what happened, baby? what’s wrong?”

and since you started crying about this, remembering the day and the circumstances around it so well, you won’t be able to stop. you can only continue to cry into him, tiny sobs wracking your body as you clutched onto him tightly.

“i... i can’t.”

you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t tell him, he wasn’t sure.

that’s why he shook his head and pulled you back into his chest, the warm safe place you’ve come to know so well and usually calmed you whenever you needed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong but i promise you’ll be okay,” you hear him mumble against your head, his hand running up and down your back gently. “i’ll try to help you in any way i can, baby, but i’m gonna need to know what’s wrong.”

but he can’t help you bring back your dead parents.

he can’t help you time travel the way you so desperately wish you could to tell yourself not to go on that senior trip.

that if you didn’t go, your parents never would’ve driven you to the airport and they never would’ve gotten in the car accident that took their life on the way back.

you’d spent a week in a foreign country while they spent a week in the hospital, your aunt and grandparents dealing with the repercussions before you came back and said your goodbyes in a dingy, hospital room.

mingi doesn’t know how long you both sat there in silence, your cries muffled against his chest and his arms wound tightly around you.

he loosened his hold immediately when he felt you try to pull away, watching as you stared at him, wiped your eyes and told him everything.

“my parents died four years ago, today.”

he watches with soft, sympathetic eyes and a breaking heart as you tell him about your guilt.

how if you just decided to stay home after weeks of begging them to go, they’d still be here.

“they didn’t have the money but i begged them for weeks, mingi,” you tell him, tears in your eyes and voice thick with emotion.

“i wanted to go so badly because all my friends were going and i was too selfish to see they really couldn’t afford it.”

he can tell you’re not done talking so he only presses his lips together and grasps your hand tightly. squeezes it reassuringly as his thumb gently rubs back and forth against your skin.

“they both worked overtime for two weeks straight and gave me the money the last day it was due. and i barely thanked them,” you remember, the scene you’ve replayed in your mind hundreds of times flashing yet again.

you jumped up from the couch and snatched the money from their hands, throwing your arms around them in a quick hug before screaming your thanks and running up to your room to tell your friends.

“a drunk diver hit them on their way home from the airport and the doctors couldn’t believe they both didn’t die on impact. a-and no one in my family could even call me so i said my goodbyes when i got home, in the hospital.”

you look to mingi with tears streaming down your cheeks and you see wetness in his own eyes, his hand grasping onto yours tight.

“i couldn’t even talk to them one last time. or hear their voices. i don’t even know if they heard me.”

your voice breaks off after that, not being able to handle recounting this after years of staying silent about it; he’s the first person you’ve talked to about this besides the counselor you saw a few months after their death.

he pulls you in his lap and wraps his arms tightly around you, rocking you back and forth as he presses his lips to your head.

your eyes are closed tight as you focus on his breathing and soft murmurs. his deep, full voice muttering sweet nothings and quiet reassurances.

that your parents did hear you and they loved you till the end.

that it was no one’s fault but the driver who decided to get in a car after getting drunk.

that you shouldn’t put any blame on yourself, because your parents would want you to be happy and thriving.

“i know but it’s just hard,” you tell him, you teary face pulling away from his wet chest.

you look around the living room full of books and wooden furniture, a family portrait hung above a cluttered-filled desk; it was taken when you were ten and you remember hating that day because you had to wear an uncomfortable dress and tights.

“i don’t know how i’m ever gonna leave this place,” you voice aloud to him, one of the many concerns that muddled your mind when you started deciding on college or jobs or moving in with your perfect boyfriend of almost a year.

“it’s the last thing i have of them. i don’t... i don’t know if i’d be ever to leave this place, mingi.”

not after what happened last time.

not wanting to leave the house you grew up in to strangers who would create more happy memories and replace the ones you made with your own parents.

his face contorts into one of sympathy and pain, his heart breaking as the obvious guilt and dread is in your eyes.

he’d always seen a bit of torment behind them but you were always able to smile.

laugh with him and tease him and push whatever demons he knew you had aside; but he started seeing it again when he mentioned moving in, fear and anxiety and discomfort that he hated to even see behind your eyes.

“i don’t know how that will effect us, it’s something i’ve thought about a lot recently,” you confess quietly, playing with the edge of the blanket nervously. “especially when you mentioned us moving in together. i... i want to, so bad, because i love you and i think it’d be fun. but... i can’t leave.”

your tears start up again and a frown crosses mingi’s face, his body hovering over yours as he takes your face in his big hands.

he wipes at the tears threatening to slide down your cheeks before placing his lips on your head, breathing slowly and calmly against you as his warm breath wafts over you.

“baby, i understand completely, i really do,” he says, everything making sense now but... “but i don’t think your parents would want you to... limit your life like this.”

because you obviously had an interest in seeing the world. you obviously wanted to see different places and cultures and sights in the world that even your precious little town doesn’t hold.

but he can see tonight isn’t the night you’re gonna see that, if the way you shake your head and bury yourself back in his chest doesn’t show that.

and because he loved you more than anything else in the world, he understood it. held you and kissed you and made sure you knew he’d be by your side in whatever way you needed.

it was with his patience and love and unconditional support that you were able to live with him. keep your parents house as a sense of security but slowly move yourself out of it.

leaving a toothbrush at the apartment, a few sets of clothes, some shampoos and soaps until one night, you were waking up and falling asleep with him every morning and night.

present day:

the fight that ended you and mingi was over a trip to disney.

something meant to be so childish and fun and innocent morphing into a blowout, gut-wrenching fight that left the two of distraught.

hit both of you with the realization that whatever you once had had fizzled out and turned so horribly toxic, you were both losing yourselves.

it had started with yunho, san and wooyoung planning the trip, mingi over their house one day after the tension in the apartment got too much. he had scoffed when san mentioned it at first, wondering what business they had as college going twenty-somethings booking a trip to disney.

“it’ll be sweet!” san said, “we could go to the parks for a few days, everyone loves roller coasters! and then we can drive down to the beach, go surfing and go to bars and shit. it’d be so much fun, guys.”

and the more all of them thought about it, the more excited they got. looking at flights and car rentals and getting all their swim suits in order - that was until mingi came back home a day later and informed you of these plans.

“me and the guys were talking about booking a trip to disney,” was the first thing he said to you. not a hello or how are you or sorry for leaving and making you worry for a week.

“oh?” you hummed quietly, looking up from your spot at the kitchen sink; you’d made breakfast for two just in case he came home early but it was another serving of eggs and bacon in the trash.

“yeah, so is that something you’d wanna do?”

there’s something off about his tone that you immediately pick up on. snippy and on edge and defensive, like he’s already fully prepared to break out into a fight.

because he already knows you won’t do it. you won’t leave the 70 mile radius you’ve trapped yourself nor will you even try to go out of your comfort zone for him and you or anyone else.

and quite frankly, he’s grown really fucking sick of it. call him selfish or call him someone looking out for you, someone who knows this type of living isn’t normal, he can’t deal with it anymore.

“i... well i mean...how would we get there? and when?”

“we were looking at flights three weeks from now,” he says, carefully observing your face with slightly cold eyes. carefully waiting for the next hint of a breakdown he’s not gonna properly respond to.

you bite the inside of your cheek as panic starts to stir in your chest.

you haven’t been anywhere since the accident. you’ve gotten yourself so used to this environment that going anywhere else seems terrifying.

but you’ve seen how bad things will happen when you try to venture out. you left to do the same and it cost your parents your life - who’s to say you wouldn’t get your karma soon?

leave mingi without a girlfriend he doesn’t even care about anymore or your grandparents without a granddaughter you can’t help but feel they blame for their child’s death.

tears are quick to prick your eyes as you try to push down all of these feelings, looking down at the floor in a move mingi already knows is dismissive.

you hear him scoff and it sends a flurry of emotions through you, not even needing to lift your head to know he’s shaking his head.

“figures,” he hums lowly, making extra noise as he puts down his bag or plops down on the dining room chair. “i don’t know why i bothered asking.”

“mingi...” you begin breathlessly, guilt and shame and sorrow filling you.

“no, y/n.”

his voice is firm and hard and makes you meet his gaze, the look he’s throwing you icy and completely empty. he’s done and you’re done and there’s basically a ticking time bomb between you two.

“you didn’t even let me give you an answer.”

“because i know what it’s gonna be!” he roars, feeling stupid for getting excited when he knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to leave. “i know you’re gonna make up some bullshit excuse about school or work or money and you’re gonna say no.”

you can’t say anything because you know he’s right. but what he doesn’t know is that you’re trying. you try every day and every week and every month to push yourself out of your comfort zone and it just doesn’t work.

you’ve tried going away with him and you’ve tried expanding your horizons - you’e even moved out of your parents house to live with him. but it’s hard when you’re constantly reminded by the fact that your decisions ended a life.

while it was technically the drunk driver’s fault, your survivors guilt heavily outweighs that. intrusive thought after intrusive thought until you start to question why you’re even still here, too.

“i’m trying, mingi,” you say, your voice shaky and defeated. “i’m trying but you don’t even see that.”

“how are you trying?” he asks, watching your dejected form a few feet away from him. “you haven’t done anything different since you moved in with me. we’ve been living the same life for the past two years, y/n.”

but you just remember how patient he was when you first tried moving in. how he was so patient and kind and gentle and was everything you needed him to be.

but he can just remember how much he loved you. how patient and understanding he was, not fully grasping the severity of what happened to you and how incapable he was of dealing with it.

“i’m... so fucking sick of it. i’ve grown to be so sick of you and i hate that, y/n. i hate feeling like this but it’s the truth.”

“and you don’t think i am?” you blurt out, the dam of tears breaking as you hear him say those specific words to you - i’ve grown to be so sick of you.

your frame is smaller and fragile and you’re like a shell of the person you were when you first met as you make your way up to him, looking over him with all the pain and exhaustion in your eyes.

“you don’t think i’m sick of feeling this way? of seeing how much you obviously hate me and are over this when i can’t stop feeling this way? because i’m sorry it’s been inconveniencing you, mingi, but it’s been ruining me, too. sometimes i can’t even believe i’m still here.”

the last part of your sentence stirs something in him but he can only focus on your broken state. watching as you grow weaker and weaker because of him.

“you haven’t even been helping me,” you suddenly say, words quiet and soft-spoke but filled with an obvious hurt. “i... i don’t know why you’d even wanna go on a trip with me because we’d just fight, mingi. we’d just fight and i’d cry and you’d leave me. th-that’s what we keep doing.”

tears burn the back of his eyes, a knot growing in his stomach so big it feels like he’s about to puke.

“because i don’t know what to do anymore, y/n,” he say, his voice less harsh but still holding a certain degree of bite. “i tried so hard with you and nothing seems to work. i loved you, i still love you, and i was there for you and i tried so hard with you but... i don’t know how to help you.”

“you think yelling is the way? or leaving me is the way?” you laugh out manically, tears rolling down your face that you desperately try to reach out and wipe. “you’re sick of me but i’m sick of you, too. i’m sick of feeling this way and i’m so fucking sick of thinking you still love me.”

“you don’t think i love you?” he asks, rising from his chair and making his way over to you.

his looming height should make you nervous, the way he’s looking down at you and threatening to trap you against the counter should make you nervous, but it doesn’t.

because coming to terms with this right here is the worst part. the conversation you’ve been avoiding for months and the obvious change in what you two have become.

“i don’t,” you say, finally meeting his gaze and seeing hurt and anger swirl behind them. they used to hold such a sweet softness that would sometimes make you feel better, even if just for a little bit.

“because even if you do, you’re still sick of me, right?”

one year ago:

“what if you get sick of me?”

the newest compromise had been his family coming here to meet you.

you and mingi had booked refundable tickets for a week in his hometown, a part of you wanting to desperately prove you could do something for him. something that would make him happy and maybe prove you love him a little more than you can convey.

but the second you got on the highway to the airport, you knew you weren’t gonna be able to.

memories played through your mind of you in the backseat of your parents car, laughing and talking with them as you promised to be careful and take a lot of pictures with them.

hearing them tell you they loved you and were so happy you were able to go after all.

and then you’d looked to the other side and see in your mind a car hitting the other. spinning out and smacking into the divider as an eruption of fire, car parts and the chaotic screeching of breaks echoed through the air.

mingi had to pull over to calm you down, bring you back to the real world in the form of hugging you close to his body and his hand running through your hair.

“i’m- i’m sorry, mingi, i’m sorry, i-”

“sh, you don’t have to apologize, baby, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he hums against your head, pulling you over the console to rock you gently in his lap.

he was warm and broad and soft spoken and everything about him made you feel safe. you couldn’t grasp at the time how or why he was so understanding and sweet but you didn’t even wanna question it.

because he was the one thing in your life that made you feel okay. that you had him and he had you and there was nothing that could be that bad if you had each other still.

he didn’t let go of your hand once as pulled onto the highway, got off the exit and made his way back home.

he guided you back into the apartment and told you to go lay down and that he’d be there in a second.

he cancelled the flight and called his mom, telling her you guys got rained out and that, if it was okay, he’d pay for them to fly out here next week.

the bed dips a few moments later, broad strong arms wrapping around your waist before you’re pulled into his chest.

it was after a few silent minutes stretched between you two, the calming rise and fall of his chest against your back, your small voice pierced the air.

“i’m sorry, mingi.”

he could tell you were gonna cry before you even started, turning you in his arms as he pulled you closer to him.

“baby, i already told you you don’t have to-”

“but i do,” you cut him off, lower lip trembling and stomach knotting guiltily.

“i... i don’t think this is normal, mingi. i should be able to move on with my life and travel somewhere. i wanted to go so badly and meet your mom but i-” your voice breaks as tears fill your eyes and you try to catch the breath threatening to suffocate you.

“i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever,” you say quietly, looking up and meeting his soft, sweet gaze. “i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever and you’re gonna become tired of it.”

“baby... that’s never gonna happen,” he assures you, voice gentle but firm as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“and you’re not gonna be like this forever. we can get you help. and i can help you,” he says, his eyes looking into yours with such a raw honesty and love. “i... don’t really know how but i’ll do whatever it takes.”

“what if it’s not enough?” you ask, because at the time it’s like you knew just how bad this was gonna get. that even with as low as you felt then, it wasn’t even rock bottom.

“what if you get sick of me?”

“i won’t,” he reassures, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your head before settling you onto his chest carefully. “that’ll never happen because i love you, y/n. and i always will.”

present day:

in a turn of events, you were the one who left after that.

came right to the place you first met, except now the lake isn’t frozen over and the late-afternoon sun had just set.

his words were too harsh and reminded you too much of his broken promises.

you felt too weak and pathetic and completely hopeless, the tense silence so horribly loud between you two you left without a word; and he hadn’t said anything either.

and now, as you sit at the spot you’ve always come to and found solace in, you can feel why he was always so hurt when you didn’t ask him to stay. because even though you were fighting and even though you both hurt each other, you wanted him to ask you to stay.

to please not go because that would’ve been the last possible way for you both to see there was something still there - even though it’s plain to see there isn’t.

too many fights and too many words have been said. too many lapses of silence and too many unspoken thoughts that now when uttered are just hurting both of you.

you’re both too hurt and you both have too many things to sort through that you can’t do together.

one second you were staring down at the lake, your own broken reflection staring back as your feet hung in the water, and the next you couldn’t see. tears flooded your vision and sobs wracked through your body, loud, ugly, horrific sobs that you’ve been holding back for far too long.

you cry because you know it’s over with him, you know it’s been over for a while, but now it all feels real.

you cry because you know you need some help to get past all of the guilt you feel, how if you don’t get help, you’re never gonna leave this town and see what else is out there.

you cry because you don’t even know where to start and know, even though it hurts, you have to do it alone.

you’re so lost in your thoughts and the way your cries echo through the yard that you don’t hear footsteps approach you.

you don’t even know anyone’s behind you until someone bends down and pulls you into their broad, warm chest. a chest you know far too well and a body that hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever.

he knew you’d be here and he couldn’t stop his legs from jumping in the car and coming to see you after you left. half because he knew this had to happen and half because he was far too scared for you to be out here like this.

he knew what conversation was gonna follow but he knew had to hold you one last time. he missed holding you and he missed wiping your tears away.

“i don’t know what happened to us, mingi,” you whimper into his chest, the tears that have been building behind his eyes finally coming to the surface.

he doesn’t know what happened either. he doesn’t know when or where you guys went wrong or when you stopped talking to each other. he doesn’t know when he stopped loving you in such a way that was all consuming, where he knew he’d do anything and everything for you.

“i don’t... i don’t think this is working. i don’t know what to do but i know i can’t do this anymore.”

“i don’t know what happened either, baby,” he mumbles against your head, his words wobbly and wet as he tightens his hold on you. it feels as if every part of is heart is breaking, for the way he’s neglected you and the way your crying against him.

“i’m sorry i can’t help you. i wanted to so fucking badly but now... i just, i can’t, baby.”

you cry harder as you shake your head against him, feeling him plop down and pull you into his arms tighter.

it feels every bit as heartbreaking and upsetting as you both knew it’d be. it’s probably why you guys put it off for so long. because even though you feel the love you used to feel, you both know nothing will change.

he’ll resent you and you’ll resent him right back.

he’ll say he stayed for you and tried to help you and you’ll say you never asked him to do any of it.

you both sit there and cry and hold each other until the sky falls dark and air turns crisp, the moon reflecting off the lake in a way that hasn’t changed in two years.

but everything’s changed between you both and it’s too heartbreakingly obvious.

“i’ll miss you,” you mumbled to him.

because you know he’s gonna go on and do all the great things he’s wanted to. move out of this town and pursue whatever dreams he put off for you, the girl he once loved more than anything.

“i love you,” he confesses quietly against your head. “i really really did love you.”

because he knows he still does, he knows he always will, but it’s not something either of you can bear to hear right now.

you both have said what the other needed to hear and when you guys part tonight, maybe you’ll finally start feeling better. fix yourselves and the damage you’ve caused each other and maybe reunite when the universe deems it right.

two and a half years later:

it had always been your dream to see the northern lights.

something about them had always fascinated you, how they almost didn’t see real or were just a figment of fake editing that would only ever be seen in photos.

but you had an overwhelming need to see them before your very eyes. see the sight before you and marvel in just how truly fascinating and beautiful it was.

so that’s exactly what you did.

you wrote down a list of all the places you wanted to see: the egyptian pyramids, the great wall of china, the taj mahal, the eiffel tower, all of the sights that you knew in order to see, you’d have to leave the perfect little town you loved so much.

it took a lot of attempts, a lot of tears and anxiety and frantic calls to your therapist, but finally, you were able to do it.

it was the third to last place on your 6-month journey around the world, jet lag getting to you immensely but an extremely fulfilling pride and excitement within you.

you were able to do it. see the sights and meet hundreds of different people and experience all the things you convinced yourself you didn’t need or want.

and you didn’t have a single regret until this very moment.

because the rookie mistake you made within this amazing, journey of self-discovery around the world was not investing in a parka.

the biting temperatures of alaska were surely getting to you right now, your glove covered hands over your ears as you trekked through the snow with other groups of (properly dressed) tourists during the aurora season.

you found yourself in a snowy, freezing field, tall evergreen trees above your heads as you waited patiently for the sky to change perfectly, a buzzing excitement and low chatter from the people around you.

footsteps crunching on snow filled your ears from every direction, your eyes on the trees and large sky above you. a harsh gust of wind whipped past you and you let out a tiny squeal, your hands shooting up to your red, wind-burnt face.

you could hear a quiet, low chuckle beside you, something about the strangely familiar sound sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. you didn’t understand them at that moment, ignoring your bodies odd reaction and keeping your eyes focused on the sky.

it took hearing his voice, the same one you’d fallen in love with in your own backyard, for your eyes widen and quickly look over the snowy vast of land surrounding you.

mingi stepped in front of you, eyes full of amusement and pride and even disbelief, looking over your face with the same type of a fascination he had when he first met you.

“aren’t you cold?”

inspired by: line without a hook by ricky montgomery, ty tiktok

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @chrryhwa @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @toffee-hwa @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii

#so aha.... not the dystopian au #but i was inspired by a song in the car and this happened <3 #mingi #mingi angst #mingi fluff #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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morkleemelon · 3 years

Text

off the ice || chapter 3: steady now

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury

a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(

I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.

Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.

Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…

You quickly shake the thoughts from your head.

“Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.

“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching.

Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.

The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.

“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.

“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.

As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.

“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.

You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.

“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner.

The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!

But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.

As expected, it’s best to stay in.

The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it.

“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.

Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.

“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.

“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.

Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.

“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.

Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.

“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.

The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.

“Wait no, but-”

“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged.

You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.

That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.

You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.

Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.

“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.

“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.

As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself.

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features.

“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.

Catch...me?

Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.

“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.

You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither.

Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person.

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.

“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”.

“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”

“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”

“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway.

“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals.

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower.

“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear.

“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”

“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all.

“That’s a top?!”

“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully.

“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.

“That’s perfect,” you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do.

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror.

That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty

“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly.

You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection.

“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.

“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.

“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed.

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.

“Let’s go”

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones.

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.

What am I doing here?

“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.

“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.

“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people.

“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.

“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.

“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

“I-I…”

“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down.

“C-captain”

“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused.

Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this.

“I didn’t know, I-”

“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.

“Y-yes I-”

“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.

“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”

“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.

“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.

You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

“Do you want to get out of here?”.

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure.

“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side.

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake.

“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”.

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it.

“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”

You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.

“Couldn’t name another one”

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.

“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile.

“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?”

“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.

“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”

Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry.

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.

“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.

“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”.

While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest.

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe.

“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips.

“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.

Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.

“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.

“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago.

“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.

“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.

“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone.

“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that?

“I uh…,” you start.

“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.

“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation.

“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.

“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply.

“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.

“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”

“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”.

“Yeah?”

You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.

“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.

Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada.

The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.

“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about.

Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit.

“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.

“So early?”

“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

“Lead the way”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”

Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings.

“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.

His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you.

“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff.

“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.

“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy.

“Awesome how?”

“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.

You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.

“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.

“Got it”

“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he’d kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.

“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”

“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.

“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”

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