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bunnyhugs77 · 4 months

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Mr. Take Your Bitch

Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.

Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.

"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.

"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."

"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.

"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.

"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.

"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"

"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.

"Exactly, and-"

"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.

Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.

They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.

It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.

The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.

Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.

That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.

You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.

You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.

She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.

She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.

Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.

Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.

With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.

Did you zone out?

You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.

Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.

You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.

It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.

He was looking right at you.

And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.

You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.

It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.

The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.

You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.

Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm

Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm

Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm

You scoff at the messages.

Unbelievable.

Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!

You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.

If you could even call it that.

You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.

Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.

You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.

You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.

"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.

"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.

"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.

"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.

"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.

"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"

"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.

She could see you were starting to consider it.

"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.

"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."

Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.

That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.

She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.

You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.

This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.

Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.

He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.

The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.

He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.

Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.

"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"

The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.

Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.

Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.

Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.

You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.

"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-

"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.

"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"

It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.

"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.

This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.

"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.

"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."

"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."

Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.

Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.

The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.

Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.

"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.

By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.

"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.

"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."

There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.

Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.

He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-

A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.

Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.

Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.

In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.

His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.

With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.

As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.

Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.

Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.

Even if you didn't know it yet.

Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.

Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.

"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."

That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.

Almost as though he wanted you to break.

You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.

"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.

"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."

Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.

"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.

There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.

Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.

"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.

While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?

Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.

The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.

The elevator dings and the doors open.

You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.

Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm

Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm

You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."

The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.

Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,

"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"

"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."

The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.

The doors open.

You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.

The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.

"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.

Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.

"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.

"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.

"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.

How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.

Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.

"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."

"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.

He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.

The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.

"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."

You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"

Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."

It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-

Your phone buzzes.

You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm

Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm

God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.

You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm

Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm

You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.

You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm

You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm

You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm

You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.

You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.

The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.

"Love to."

The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.

Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.

Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."

It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.

This very moment was destined from the start.

"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.

"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.

His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.

His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"

"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.

"So you admit it. You think about me too?"

You step back.

"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.

The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.

But you couldn't.

He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."

You don't want him. you lie to yourself.

Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.

"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.

There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.

The dam finally broke.

You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.

This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.

The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--

"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.

You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.

And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.

"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.

"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"

You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.

"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.

He was waiting for you.

The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.

The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.

Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.

A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.

On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,

He spins you around, he had you cornered.

Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.

This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.

He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.

Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?

"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.

You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.

All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.

You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.

He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.

You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.

"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.

"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.

Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.

You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.

Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.

He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.

You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.

"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"

You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.

On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.

"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.

You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.

Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.

It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?

He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.

He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.

"Hope you're not scared of heights."

Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.

"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.

Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.

"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.

It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.

You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.

"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.

Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.

You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.

"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.

That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.

Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.

Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.

"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.

Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.

He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.

"Come, let's get you cleaned up."

"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.

"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.

"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."

You open the envelope to read the card aloud,

'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'

Sunny squealed in your ear.

"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.

"Hello?" He answers.

"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"

Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."

He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-

"How- What?"

"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.

"I know."

"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.

"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"

He smiles.

#bts #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jungkook fic recs #bts one shot #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #btssmuts #bts scenarios #fluff #bts smut #smut

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adreamfromnevermore · 2 months

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Headcanon that the Bats must be the most infuriating members of the justice league. And it's got nothing to do with what they do or don't know or even their general skills and egos. Everyone is very used to Batman and the expectation that him and any of his spawn are somehow going to be three steps ahead of any issue they bring to the table ever.

No no, the infuriating bit? The stalking.

Listen, this is a family of freaks and weirdos. They work so well together because none of them were normal to start with and then they ended up traumatized. It's practically common practice in that family to accept that nothing is what it seems at face value and that all of your siblings are attempting to pry into your private life and cases at any given moment. I think for them it's honestly weirder if you take what they say at face value. They speak a language holy separate from any normally socialized person and it is a language of lies and half-truths that relies on the assumption that all parties are aware of that.

They're the most infuriating bitches around.

They'll tell someone something and appear to do the opposite and when confronted will have the most convoluted but sound reasoning of why they actually did exactly as they promised too.

They regularly pick people's pockets and hack into personal information because for them? That's practically a love language. They're obnoxious and they aren't even aware of it. Someone asks them to just tell the truth and they react like they've been shot. They're probably offended when they realize that someone hasn't been at least attempting to dig into them back, like come on man. I thought we were friends but you didn't even Google how long Nightwings been around? We've already put the bar on the floor for you guys? My siblings already have a full dossier ready on you because they caught us on camera in your home city during that 2 minute conversation we had 3 months ago. They sent it to me a few hours later. I think they got Oracle to help cause usually it takes them at least 12 hours.

You think they're being nice and friendly and then you realize that they have a nice little file compiled of everything you've done in the last five years, where you went to school and every note your teachers ever made about your behavior a decade ago when you were still a high schooler and fairly normal. If asked they'd probably be willing to bring out the family tree they built for you. They know what you did last summer better than you know what you did last summer. They have pictures, pictures that should be impossible because there's no way they were stalking you then and those sure don't look like security camera footage.

In reality Bats and Superman get along so well because that man is an investigative journalist and when they first met he could not leave it alone. Bruce was charmed the first time Clark Kent started doggedly attempting to ask him if he knew anything about Gothams new cryptid. It was cute how off base he was. But he was trying!!!! Bruce was sold for life! He dropped an dossier on lexcorp off in Clarks apartment a few days later. As a gift.

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irndad · 2 months

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a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.

“Have you called Maeve?”

She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?

He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with.

Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them.

“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.

“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”

“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”

She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks.

Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me.

She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response.

Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.

She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it.

Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office.

She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief.

She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share.

He does not want to call Maeve.

The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.

“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”

Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.

He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess.

He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.

“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”

“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”

“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“

“Then why-“

“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”

He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it.

She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now.

All the cards are in her hands.

Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this.

“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”

It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him.

“How could I not be? It’s you.”

It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up.

A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount.

“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“

He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable.

When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life.

“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”

He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back.

It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits.

She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back.

On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything.

He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though.

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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little-diable · 15 days

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Drunken Minds Sober Hearts - Dean Winchester (smut)

We love a good friends to lovers fic, especially with Dean, don't we? Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Drunk off her face the reader told Dean, her best friend, that she hasn't slept with anybody because she wants him to be her first. But will she admit to that when she's sober too?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, loss of virginity, outdoor, oral (f), friends to lovers

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 2k words)

The cold breeze teased her arms, leaving (y/n) shuddering with her back pressed to the blanket and her eyes focused up ahead. Even though Dean emanated enough warmth to make her feel his closeness, deep down she knew that she wasn’t trembling like a leaf because of the cold, but because of the awfully intimate touch this moment had to it.

No words were spoken between the two as they kept staring at the night sky, trying to count the stars that were twinkling for them only—or at least that’s what it felt like. She felt Dean’s hand close to hers, about to touch, about to interlace their fingers, and yet neither of them dared to cross the distance between them just yet.

Dean had asked her hours ago if she trusted him and if he could take her somewhere to distract them from past hunts and exhausting weeks. And who was she to say no to Dean Winchester—her best friend, her better half, her one true love—even though he knew nothing of the feelings she harbored for him.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you.” Dean cleared his throat, letting his head roll towards her as he spoke. She didn’t reply, only looked at him as she waited for him to continue.

“I don’t think you remember much of Saturday night. But you said something to me, something I can’t stop thinking of.” Heat rose to her face as Dean’s words began to sink in. Saturday night hadn’t been her proudest moment; with too many shots poured down her throat, she had eventually lost control, blabbering away things she now couldn’t remember.

“Is it true that you haven’t allowed anybody to touch you because you want me to be your first?” She choked on her breath, having to sit up to try and let some air flood through her aching lungs. Her body was burning up in embarrassment while she made a silent promise to never drink again. She felt Dean’s hand on her back, softly rubbing circles on the fabric of her sweater as she tried to calm down.

“Did I really say that?” (Y/n) couldn’t look at her best friend and was trying to figure out how she could get the ground to open up and swallow her whole. But before she could even begin to plan her escape, Dean’s hand had found her chin, tilting it up for her to look at him.

“Hey, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Her words got stuck in her throat as Dean’s thumb found her mouth, carefully pulling her lower lip from the grasp her teeth had on the thin skin. Both looked at one another as if they could read each other’s minds, deciphering every emotion flushing through their systems, emotions that urged their movements as Dean’s lips found hers.

Dean didn’t allow her to break away as he pulled her into his lap, slowly feeling (y/n) relax in his grasp. Her arms found their way around his neck, getting lost in a kiss both had only imagined but never dared to speak of. The kiss was slow, allowing both to adjust to the sensation and yet it was urged on by their longings and fears, by whatever had managed to hold them back for the past years.

“I need you to be honest with me, sweetheart. Was it the truth?” Dean murmured his words against her slightly swollen lips. His hands kept a tight grasp on her, fingertips running along the seam of her sweatshirt, about to disappear beneath the thick fabric.

“It is the truth, and I’m sorry for drunkenly dumping that on you.” She tried to look away, tried to focus on anything but Dean, but the hunter’s grasp only grew tighter, not daring to let her go. Another kiss was pressed against her lips, a kiss that drew a soft moan from (y/n), a sound that gave Dean the needed push to flip them around. Their eyes held contact as Dean hovered over her, admiring every part of her frame.

“We shouldn’t do this out here, you deserve a bed, something comfortable.” The concern dripping from Dean’s words left (y/n) chuckling, she pulled him back down for a kiss, and let her legs wrap around his waist to feel his growing erection against her covered heat. Both moaned in unison from the new friction this movement offered, a sensation so addicting, (y/n) knew there was no way to ever let go of Dean again.

“I don’t need a bed, Dean. I just want you, and to be honest, something boring isn’t our style anyway, is it?” His chuckles vibrated through her body as Dean kissed his way down her throat, letting his hands pull her sweater up to her chest. The groan that clawed through him was raspier than any sound she had heard before, allowing her eyes to wander over his handsome features while his eyes focused on her naked, braless chest.

“You’re fucking beautiful, (y/n).” No longer did she feel the cold breeze stroking her, no longer did she pick up on the whispers warning her of the way she’d lose herself tonight. All (y/n) could focus on was Dean, the man who had always owned her heart, the man she’d give her life for.

(Y/n)’s head rolled back as his lips found her naked chest, sucking on one hardening nub while his free fingers took care of the other. Dean wanted to comment on how perfectly she fit into his hands, how it felt as if she had been created for him only, but his words got stuck in his throat as his middle moved against hers again, creating just enough friction for the both of them.

“Can I taste you? Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” Dean’s whispers left (y/n) choking on her gasps, unable to reply with any words. All she could do was shoot him an eager nod while raising her hips for Dean to pull her jeans down her legs. Once again, a growl managed to break out of Dean, a sound that forced (y/n) to drown in the different sensations she was held hostage by.

“You’re soaked, baby.” The comment drew a whine from (y/n), she had to grasp the blanket, had to find something to hold onto before she’d grow too eager, needing to feel whatever Dean could offer her.

His warm fingers pushed her soaked panties aside, he gave himself a few moments to study her, hoping that he could burn this very image into his mind – forever remembering it as if he were a blind man being offered his sight back for only a handful of seconds. And for that, he’d always choose (y/n), studying the woman he felt deeply connected to.

Dean’s tongue brushed against her pulsing bundle, leaving (y/n) moaning. He ate her out with an unfamiliar kind of urgency, offering her a glimpse into what was awaiting her. Heaven – the pearly gates – or simply the love both couldn’t deny any longer.

Whatever it was, it pushed her closer towards Dean, hearts and souls connected.

“Dean,” (y/n) sobbed his name as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, letting them curl against the swollen spot he instantly managed to find. With her back arched off the blanket, and her thighs quivering, (y/n) forced her eyes back up to the night sky. She needed to focus on something else, keeping herself from giving in way too quickly.

She had never allowed another man to touch her like this, deep down she had been too stuck on the possibility of Dean loving her, holding onto the thinnest thread of hope that had been close to snapping – a thread that now got woven into a thick rope, unable to ever snap apart.

Her shaking fingers found his hair, tugging on the roots to draw a raspy groan from Dean, a sound that forced her gaze back down to him. And as they looked at one another, pupils filled with love, adoration, and longing, (y/n) felt herself being pushed over the edge. She came with a cry, had to squeeze her eyes shut to hold onto this feeling, the blinding sensation that had never felt this strong when she had touched herself to the thought of Dean.

“Jesus, Dean. What even was that?” The sound of his chuckles echoed through the night. He moved up her body to find her lips for a kiss, letting their tongues tangle as she tasted herself on the strong muscle. Her hands disappeared beneath his shirt, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch.

“Only the beginning, sweetheart.” He let go of her to undo his belt before reaching for his wallet to pull a condom free. She took it from his grasp while he freed his twitching cock from the confines of his trousers, staring down at (y/n) whose eyes had that special twinkle to them. His heart swelled in his chest at the mere sight of her, grateful that he finally got a chance to express his feelings, to leave his anxiety behind – all so he could love her the way she deserved to be loved.

Their eyes held contact as she rolled the condom down his aching length with shaking fingers, as she laid back down on the blanket, and as Dean positioned himself at her entrance.

“Tell me if it hurts too much, I’ll be careful.” (Y/n)’s arm found its way around his neck to pull Dean down for a kiss. The second their lips met, he pushed into her, drawing a pained whimper from her. He held still for a moment, allowing her to adjust before he kept on moving, sinking further into her tightness.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You feel so good, baby.” Dean’s gritty voice left her walls clenching around him, wordlessly begging him for more. With his weight shifted onto his forearm, Dean started moving quicker, adding more strength to his thrusts to draw the sweetest moans from (y/n).

“Don’t stop, don’t ever stop touching me, Dean.” She sobbed her words as her fingernails began leaving crescent shapes on his neck. (Y/n)’s thighs quivered around his waist, she was torn between all different sensations, unsure what to focus on, while her second orgasm was close to flushing through her all too quickly.

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock.” His command left (y/n) gasping, forcing her eyes back up towards Dean’s green ones. The smirk playing on his lips was enough to leave her sweating in need while feeling him buried oh so deep inside of her. She rubbed her pulsing bundle with quick movements, set on pushing herself over the edge while Dean fucked her into the blanket.

“Dean,” his name left her lips like a prayer, in desperate need of guidance, unsure what to do with the massive wave of emotions which were about to flush through her. And with another whine leaving her, (y/n) came for Dean, allowing him to watch her unfold right in front of his eyes. He kept fucking her, didn’t want to give in before he had managed to push her through the intense sensation, only as she relaxed beneath him did Dean finally give in with her name leaving him.

“Promise to hold onto me forever, Dean.” (Y/n) panted the words with a smile glued to her lips. Her fingers brushed through his hair, desperate to keep on feeling every part of him.

“Let the stars be my witnesses, I promise to love you till the day I die, sweetheart.”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural

487 notes · View notes

lovelyhan · 1 year

Text

— again and again ⟢

pairing: mingyu x reader

summary: your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.

word count: 15.7k words

tags: exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut

warnings: medical jargon, mentions of shots (for pets), mentions of snake bites, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: i wrote this with bss' 7pm on loop for two straight days. nothing like the sweet taste of yearning <3 this also wasn't extensively proofread, so if you spot a few mistakes, i implore you to ignore them EJWHJHSDF

this is part of the doting on you! series.

smut tags: vanilla, mingyu is super whipped, praise kink, service top gyu, dirty talk, nicknames (babygirl, sweetheart, sweet thing), overstimulation, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, creampie, heads up that the filth is at the very end tho

taglist: @cherrycheolie1995 - @ashkuuuu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @christinewithluv - @fancypoisonapple - @odetoyeonjun - @minnie-mouser22 - @etherealyoungk - @davoraciousreader - @mariondior - @hella-sirius - @coveyland - @marlow234 - @dobomiyeon - @belysusonrisa - @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @seoksoop - @dreamhannies - @renjunphile - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @acgyu - @gae-uls - @pluviophile-xxx - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @yutadae - @smileyjimvn

additional notes: you might want to check your visibility settings if you can't be tagged!

When you hear the telltale ring as the call connects to its intended recipient, you wonder why you even considered this idea in the first place. Not to mention, you’re getting a nasty case of phone call anxiety—one that you haven’t felt in god knows how long. Maybe it’s because of the identity of the person you’re calling that your nerves are all over the place.

In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even going to answer. There are a million and a half reasons why famous superstar Kim Mingyu won’t be able to pick up your call. He could be shooting for a music video or some fashion magazine. He could be in the middle of an interview. Or he could be out spending time with his members like tends to these days if his recent Instagram posts are anything to go by.

But you try anyway because your mother sounded so hopeful in the phone call you just hung up on five minutes ago (The rice wine he got for us last Christmas was splendid! He’ll bring some again for Chuseok, won’t he?), that you just didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.

So, because you can’t take back the pretty white lies you uttered (Uh, of course he will. Gyu told me he missed everyone back at home, too. Especially Namja), you’re attempting to rope Mingyu into the charade even if the odds are against you.

The first call doesn’t go through. Neither does the second.

By your third try, you’re about to accept the fact that you’re going to have to make some due corrections to what you told your mother until you hear a groggy, “Hello?” on the other line.

You nearly fall off your seat at the throaty sound of Mingyu’s voice, but you’d rather not get weird looks from your receptionist, so you breathe in as deeply (and quietly) as you can before mustering a smile that he won’t even be able to see.

“Hey, Mingyu, it’s me,” you begin, a bit proud of how your voice didn’t even falter. “It’s been a while. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

He doesn’t respond for a while, and the prolonged silence makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Did the call fall through? Did he not hear what you said? But just when you’re about to repeat the words—

“Kind of,” Mingyu grumbles, and you try not to think about how sexy his morning voice sounds despite it being two in the afternoon. “We finished taping a variety show today and I figured I’d get some sleep. It’s midnight right now.”

Well that’s news to you.

“Oh. You’re not in Korea?”

“Nah. We’re in New York for some brand collaborations,” he says, and you hear some rustling in the background, followed by a yawn. “Though I doubt you’ve been keeping tabs on us.”

Okay, he doesn’t have to call you out like that.

Sure, you still catch posts from Mingyu, as well as the other twelve members of SEVENTEEN from time to time, but…after breaking up with him (on good terms, promise!), you thought it’s best if you didn’t see too much of them anymore. The block and mute buttons are your best friends, and while you didn’t use them on the members directly, gossip outlets were your regular targets.

So to speak, it’s been a peaceful six months since your break up with Mingyu.

Until now.

“Do you need something?” he asks, and you realize you didn’t respond to what he said last. “Whatever it is, I might not be able to help you out right away. We’re holed up here until next month.”

Well…that’s all the confirmation you needed.

“I see,” you sigh, trying not to sound too disappointed. “It’s— It’s okay.”

“So you do need something,” Mingyu points out, voice much clearer now than it was two minutes ago. Like he was more awake. “What is it?”

“Nothing you should worry about, Gyu,” you reassure before making a face, not realizing how easily the old nickname just slipped out. “I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to—”

The sound of him whining at the other end sends another rush of vertigo through your entire being. “Come on, I’m awake anyways right? You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep again.”

“If I’d known we weren’t in the same continent, I wouldn’t have called altogether,” you say before quaintly adding, “Shit. This counts as an international call, doesn’t it?”

There’s someone else in the room with him, you think—a quiet drawl of Mingyu-hyung, what time is it? You immediately recognize it as Seungkwan.

“Five minutes past midnight,” Mingyu says, and Seungkwan asks another question that you aren’t able to catch. “Who am I talking to? Bookkeu and Bobpul’s worst enemy.”

“Hey!” You scowl at him. “They never even whined when you and Seungkwan brought them to me for their shots!”

“Noona? Why are you calling this guy?” Seungkwan says a bit more loudly for you to hear. “Didn’t you dump him already? Good choice, by the way.”

This time it’s Mingyu’s turn to utter out a semi-offended, “Hey! Mind your own business, Seungkwan-ah.”

A few minutes of bickering with his dongsaeng later, you figure that Mingyu must’ve gone outside of their hotel room for some privacy. You can vaguely hear the sound of the wind blowing on his end before he heaves a deep sigh.

“Sorry about that.” He coughs awkwardly. “Anyway, if you’re not going to tell me about what you needed help with, how are you? Is the clinic doing well? Did your receptionist finally ditch her shitty boyfriend? Does that one guy with a husky still hit on you?”

You’re a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of questions. Last you checked, you haven’t spoken to Mingyu since you greeted him on his birthday over a quick text message. But then again, your ex does have a talent for completely ignoring the time that exists in between interactions. Mingyu’s always been amicable for conversation, idol or not, boyfriend or not.

The mere thought that he hasn’t changed at all makes your heart ache in more ways than one.

You manage a quiet laugh. “I’m fine. The clinic’s fine. Chae has a new boyfriend now. He even helps us sort out new products on the shelves sometimes.”

At the mention of her name, your receptionist whips her head in your direction, one brow raised. You shake your head with a smile, gesturing that this is nothing she should even be remotely concerned about.

It’s just Mingyu after all.

“Okay, how about the guy who—”

“I turned him down when he asked me out for lunch last week.”

He whistles. “Ouch. And he’s been trying to get with you all this time.”

“I don’t usually date my clients, you know.”

“Yeah? I must be special then.”

Then comes the silence—so thick, you can cut through it with a knife.

“Uh, so I have a patient coming in an hour for a castration procedure,” you tell him a bit awkwardly. “Gotta prepare everything before the owner arrives.”

Mingyu sighs, and you can almost imagine him pouting. “You’re really not gonna tell me? I can still help you with whatever you need even when I’m out here. Unless it requires me to, you know, physically be there.”

You chuckle. “That’s the thing, Gyu. You can’t help me because I need you to actually be here.”

“Oh. Why? What for?”

You inhale sharp breath through your nose, closing your eyes as your face warms with embarrassment. Chae is definitely looking at you funnily from her station now, but you tell yourself not to give it too much thought.

“Mom asked if I was bringing you with me for Chuseok,” you admit. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, so… They kind of have no idea that we aren’t together anymore.”

Mingyu falls silent for a while yet again, and you realize that your anxiousness spikes whenever he isn’t talking like there’s no tomorrow. You wonder if he’s figured out what you’re trying to insinuate and is silently berating you for the lapse in judgment. But when Mingyu bursts out laughing on the other end, you suddenly don't mind being on the receiving end of his silence after all.

“No way,” he gasps between chuckles. “You were going to ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend over the holidays, weren’t you?! One of the fans wrote a story about the exact same thing once, except it’s between me and Wonwoo-hyung. It was in English though, but Vernon translated it pretty well.”

…Kim Mingyu admitting to reading fanfiction about himself and Wonwoo aside, you groan. “What am I supposed to do? My family loves you. I’d rather not dampen the Chuseok spirit by saying their favorite son has unfortunately made his unannounced exit half a year ago.”

“So you’re willing to pretend we’re still together just to keep them happy?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you’re an ex I should be ashamed of, Gyu.”

“Because I’m an idol that millions are vying for?”

You roll your eyes. “No. It’s because out of all my exes, you’re the only one that Namja actually likes. That’s pretty much the highest honor you can receive in your entire life.”

Your heart does a little flip when Mingyu barks out another light-hearted laugh. You tell yourself that you’re only reacting that way because…it has been a while since you talked to him. That, and Mingyu was always so smiley whenever you brought up your ten year-old retriever.

“Point taken,” he says. “I’d totally be down to help you out, but…yeah.”

“I knew you would be,” you reply, a sad smile ghosting your features. “That’s why I called.”

Silence settles over the line once again, but it’s, by no means, awkward. It’s more…sentimental. Like two old friends reminiscing about the good memories you shared.

Huh. You’re friends with Mingyu…

“Anyway, thanks for catching up with me, Mingyu,” you tell him before you end up saying something you’re not supposed to. “I’ll get going now. Good night.”

“Hey—”

You end the call before he can have the chance to make you falter.

Right behind her desk, Chae looks up at you with a knowing look. You flash her a smile that silently pleads for her not to say a word, but your receptionist has always been on the frank side.

“Something’s telling me you’re still hung up on him, boss.”

Sighing, you push yourself back to your feet, tugging on the lapels of your crisp white coat. That might be true to some degree, but it’s not like you can do anything about it.

You and Mingyu live in two completely different worlds. It’s something that you both came to terms with when you broke up. You just had to accept the fact that there’s simply no efficient way to work around his busy schedules and the appointments you need to attend to at the clinic.

It was the most unproblematic breakup you’ve ever had, and it’s with a famous idol. Who would’ve thought.

“Anyway,” you tell Chae before nudging the door to the operating room open. “Care to help me look for the anesthetics? I can’t remember where I put them away last time…”

Your receptionist is most definitely judging you inside your head, but despite how straightforward she can be, Chae still knows when to drop it. After a few clicks on the clinic’s desktop computer, she joins you on the hunt for that pesky bottle of anesthesia without asking any intrusive questions.

You make a mental note to treat her to some coffee tomorrow.

…

One of the reasons you seldomly paid your hometown a visit is the hassle that comes with the entire commute.

First you have to endure the long queue to get tickets before sitting through an eight-hour train ride to the seaside town of Haenam. Then comes navigating the local bus routes and schedules that always seem to change every time you go home.

When you made it out of the train station for this year’s Chuseok celebration, you didn’t even bother stressing yourself out with taking the bus back to your parents’ house—flagging down a taxi that definitely charged you a ridiculous rate in exchange for your utmost comfort instead.

You try not to think about how easier it was last Christmas, when you and Mingyu took turns driving one of his company’s cars on the way here—laughing and singing along to their songs on the road like nothing else mattered.

The scent of salt hangs heavy in the breeze when you unload your baggage from the trunk of the taxi. You had the foresight to make the trip before midnight, so you’re rewarded with the sight of the sunrise breaking through the nearby ocean—light glittering across the horizon like it means to say welcome home.

That’s what you should feel; like you’re at home. But the fact that you’re about to bring some disappointing news to the table regarding your breakup with Mingyu isn’t doing your peace of mind any favors.

You contemplated coming clean about it to your parents over a phone call, but it seemed too…impersonal with how attached they’ve gotten to your ex-boyfriend. Having a significant other that your family absolutely adores seems like a double-edged sword now that you think about it.

Once the cab hits the road again, you stand in front of your family home with a wistful sigh. It’s barely past seven in the morning, but your father must already be at the pier—sorting out today’s catch with the other fishermen in town.

Your mother loves taking walks in the market even if she doesn’t have anything in particular to purchase for the day. They’re early risers by default.

You can’t really say the same for your younger brother, Haneul, though. That one likes to sleep until noon.

When you ring the doorbell outside, you expect to hear the sound of excited barking from the other side of the gate. Namja was always the first to welcome you back whenever you’re in town, and just thinking about reuniting with him quells your anxiousness a little. But surprisingly, you don’t hear the telltale noise of your family dog’s excitement.

What you do hear is the sound of the screen door opening and slamming back shut—slippers being hastily slid on before the gate creaks open, revealing Haneul still sporting a bedhead as he rubs his eyes.

“You’re back,” he says a-matter-of-factly, like he isn’t even thrilled to see you, but you’re too surprised to see him up so early to quip about it. “Mom said you wouldn’t arrive until noon.”

“I wanted to make the most of my vacation leave,” you explain before looking around the garden inside. “Where’s Namja? Did Mom take him for a walk, too?”

Haneul hums before taking your luggage. “Hm. You can say that.”

“What does that even mean?”

As if on cue, your ears perk up at the sound of a familiar bark resounding from the end of the road. You quickly whip your head around to see your beloved golden retriever, Namja, wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of you before letting out another woof when you call out his name in glee.

However, the moment you realize who’s holding his leash, you suddenly feel like you got struck by lightning.

It’s Kim fucking Mingyu.

The sight of your ex-boyfriend just...standing there when he told you he was on the other side of the world sends a million thoughts surging through your head all at once.

You try not to think about how gorgeous he looks in the early morning light. Loose, long sleeved shirt that still emphasizes his muscular build despite. Hair having grown past his chin, curling slightly at the tips. And those stupid fucking canines that peek from his lips every time he grins.

The bastard is just standing there with zero disguises, as if his existence in this place, at this point in time, doesn't throw a wrench in all of your plans.

What the hell is he even doing here?!

“Oh, sweetie, you’re back!”

The sound of your mother’s voice is, thankfully, enough to snap you out of your impending mental breakdown. You were so taken aback by Mingyu’s presence that you didn’t notice her standing next to him, carrying the bag she usually brings for her early market visits as she flashes you a warm smile.

You can only stand there in shocked silence as your mother makes her way back to the house with your dog and ex-boyfriend in tow. Haneul was already inside, so you can’t exactly glare at him for not giving you a head’s up. But given that you still have no idea what on earth is going on, you’ll play along. For now.

“Are you surprised?” your mother giggles before patting Mingyu’s shoulder. “Mingyu here said he got off work for a while so he could celebrate with us!”

“Gee, I didn’t know about that,” you say dryly, unsure of what expression you should even wear. “I thought he was going to be in New York until next month.”

She laughs again. “Oh, he told me and your father to keep it a secret that he’s going back to Korea anyways. Seems like the surprise worked, didn’t it, Mingyu-ah?”

The culprit himself agrees with a minute nod before loosening his grip on Namja’s leash.

Your goldie immediately bounds towards you at the first sign of freedom, bracing his paws on your stomach as he attempts to lick your neck. It’s enough to distract you from the current predicament at hand, making you sigh in defeat as you sink to your knees and receive Namja’s slobbery affection in its entirety.

As you snuggle up to the family dog, Mingyu says, “What can I say? I missed Haenam a lot. The scenery, the family, Namja, but of course…”

You can only sit there in growing disbelief as Mingyu mirrors your movements. He crouches low enough so that your gazes are leveled before caressing your face with a tenderness that’s both familiar and foreign at the same time.

“I missed her the most.”

This is all a charade—that’s what you can confirm from the limited clues he’s dropping for you to pick up on. You can try to figure out why he’s suddenly here in your hometown—having arrived earlier than you, from the looks of it—a little later.

What’s important is that Mingyu, ever-so helpful, is actually playing along with the act you not-so-jokingly told him about on the phone.

You should be glad.

…But why do those words make your heart ache anyways?

“Of course you do,” you sigh before peeling yourself away from his touch, carrying Namja in your arms as if he doesn’t easily weigh thirty kilograms. “Come on. Let’s get back inside and help Mom prepare whatever she’s planning on cooking for lunch.”

Mingyu’s smile doesn’t falter despite your obvious dismissal of his affection. You remind yourself that he’s racked up a lot of acting gigs throughout his career, so it’s normal for him to be a natural at this.

But even if you know that this is all an act, you can’t help the way your heart lurches when Mingyu scoops Namja out of your grasp—the mere brush of his skin on yours more electrifying than it should be.

Namja whines in your ex’s arms, pawing at his chest before licking a long stripe across his cheek. Mingyu bursts out laughing as he coos at him, and your chest burns with an indescribable feeling.

A few moments later, your mother starts gushing about how excited she is to have both of you in the kitchen with her again as she leads you back inside the house. But all that rings in your head is a broken mantra of Mingyu saying I missed her the most.

As if repeating the words enough times will make them come true.

...

It’s one thing to know that Mingyu is in Haenam when he’s supposed to be overseas.

It’s another thing to see his usual overnight bag at the foot of your unmade bed, making you realize that he definitely came here much earlier than you anticipated.

Mingyu is currently in the kitchen, helping your mother out with lunch prep while she insists that you get some sleep first. Though the trains that led to the southern provinces were designed to be more comfortable than the ones contained in Seoul, nothing defeats the comfort of your old childhood bed.

Except when you’re made aware of the fact that your ex-boyfriend probably slept in it after making the trip all the way here.

The sheets even smell like him. A hint of that expensive fragrance he never seems to get tired of laces your pillows, and warmth rushes to your face when you realize you’re breathing it in a bit too much.

So what if Mingyu slept here, right? Your parents’ house doesn’t have a guest room, and this was probably the only room available.

Oh, and in your family’s eyes, Mingyu is still your boyfriend. There shouldn’t be anything weird about your boyfriend, who went out of his way to quote-unquote surprise you, sleeping in your room, on your bed, without your knowledge.

And there definitely isn’t an issue with having to sleep next to him on said bed come nightfall.

You totally got this.

An attempt to dissuade all these intrusive thoughts is made as you unload the contents of your luggage into your old cabinet. It works for a while because all the old clothes you still kept tickled some memories from way back in high school, when becoming a vet was nothing but a pipe dream you came up with after Namja became sick on the day of his first birthday.

In fact, as you look around further, you’re reminded of just how much time has passed since you moved out. The paint on the walls is starting to chip, and the floorboards creakier than you remember. Even the bed that was too spacious for your liking seems to shrink when you imagine Mingyu sprawled all over it with a blanket thrown over his large form.

But when you recall how you two somehow made the sleeping arrangement work last Christmas, you figure that there isn’t much to worry about.

Aside from the fact that you’re not together anymore. Fuck.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

You jolt at the sound of a soft voice coming from the door. Mingyu’s handsome face peeks from the crack before he opens it all the way, lips pressed together in a hesitant smile.

“Your mom asked if I could fetch your father at the pier in a few,” he says. “Do you want to come with me or do you want to get some sleep first?”

“Do I want to—” you cut yourself off, throwing your hands up in disbelief. “Mingyu, what I want is for you to explain what you’re doing here.”

He cranes his head. “You said you needed help.”

“Yeah, but I was going to be honest about the breakup anyway!” you whisper, not wanting to attract unwanted attention from outside. God knows this house has paper-thin walls. “But then you’re suddenly here, cozying up to my family like we haven’t been ignoring each other for months already.”

“Hey, I’d never ignore you.” Mingyu pouts. “I even picked up when you called me at ass o’clock in the morning, remember? If someone’s ignoring anyone here, it’s you, sweetheart.”

You hate how you bristle at that little pet name. Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice how you react to it, so you steel yourself instead—refusing to give into his unintentional charms. “That’s not the point and you know it, Mingyu. You can’t blame me for reacting this way when you told me that you wouldn’t be able to help me out.”

“But I’m here, right? I thought you’d be a little happier to see me, but I might have been overestimating myself.”

You are. You are happy to see him.

But having to live with the knowledge that Mingyu is right here, close enough for you to touch, yet can’t because your relationship has long expired?

You weren’t ready for that. You don’t think you’ll ever be.

“Look,” he starts with a tone that’s meant to placate you, “you were right about not wanting to ruin the holidays with the breakup. I’m just here to help you out since you’re obviously not ready to break the news to your family. It’s not a big deal.”

You scowl at him. “Mingyu, it is a big deal. You are literally an idol with a packed fucking schedule. You can’t just play house with me here when you’re expected to be somewhere else.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Listen to me first, okay? We were all given the weekend off because of Chuseok on short notice. You don’t have to worry about you unknowingly stealing me away from work because there is no work. Besides, I told you I’d still be here when you need me, right?”

How can he say all that with a straight face? Like he still thinks of you as anything but an old flame that’s long been snuffed out?

The problem with Mingyu is that he’s too earnest for his own good. Always wearing a spectrum of emotions on his sleeve. Always so honest about what he feels about certain things. It’s so fucking difficult to stand your ground against someone who’s nothing but forthcoming about every aspect of his life.

But it’s not like you could ever resist him to begin with, right?

“Fine,” you grumble. “Give me a few minutes to prep. I don’t want to go out in the docks wearing this many layers anyways.”

You hate how your chest warms when Mingyu’s eyes light up at that. Fight back, maybe?!

He looks like he’s about to say something when an abrupt knock disturbs the quiet atmosphere of your room. From how annoyingly long it lasts, you single out your younger brother as the perpetrator.

“You better not be making your firstborn in there,” Haneul drawls from the other side.

Mingyu flashes you a mischievous smile before cupping the sides of his hands over his mouth. “We might be making our second born for all you know.”

You won’t survive this weekend. You really won’t.

…

“Remember when we used to eat ice cream by the Han River?”

You flash Mingyu a perplexed look as you climb out of the car he used to drive all the way to your hometown. It’s a mystery how his manager allows him to go places with their company car with no supervision, but it’s not like Mingyu has done anything in the past to warrant that kind of surveillance anyway.

Besides, if he’s spending the entirety of Chuseok with a bunch of bodyguards lingering around your house, you might actually force him to go back to Seoul altogether.

“Why’d you bring it up?” you ask. “I thought you didn’t like those kinds of dates ‘cause you had to amp up the disguises and everything.”

Mingyu pockets the keys to the car before leaning against the metal railings installed along the pier. Your father is yet to show up at your rendezvous point, so you figure it wouldn’t do anyone harm to entertain Mingyu’s attempt at small talk.

“Hmm. While I did prefer just cuddling in the dorms and at your place, it always felt a little different whenever we went out together,” he muses, the wind tossing his hair around slightly before turning to look at you. “How about you? Do you have any favorite date of ours in particular?”

You sigh, unsure why he’s even asking you all of this. Yet you indulge him anyway with, “I don’t think it classifies as a ‘date’, but I kinda liked it whenever you hung out with me in the clinic while I tended to some patients. Even if your presence there is an occupational hazard in itself.”

He snickers to himself, and you know damn well he still remembers the flock of fangirls that ran into him in the waiting room when Mingyu paid you a visit out of boredom. Thankfully, they were the respectful kind, and promised not to divulge information about Mingyu’s whereabouts whenever they catch him at your clinic.

“The dogs are always happy to see me,” he chuckles. “The cats, not so much. Oh, but remember when someone brought in their pet snake? I think that one had a crush on me.”

You do, in fact, remember the day Mingyu got bitten by a boa constrictor named Yujin. Her owner is one of your regulars, since other vets in the city don’t have reptiles under their area of expertise. Yujin hasn’t bitten anyone since she first came for a checkup, so you figure that Mingyu must have done something pretty stupid to provoke the aggression.

“You better be glad constrictor bites aren’t venomous,” you point out with an airy laugh. “Not even a true love’s kiss can cure a venomous snake bite.”

“It can cure a handful of other things though.”

You turn to glance at Mingyu with a miffed look at his attempt at smooth-talk. He’s always been this way, so it doesn’t particularly faze you. But it still feels surreal to be talking with him right next to the open sea in your hometown as you both wait for your father to arrive.

“I never really got to ask,” you murmur, eyes still trained on a flock of seagulls huddling together near the docks. “How are you? You’re not burning yourself out again, are you?”

You don’t see it, but Mingyu smiles to himself. “It’s in our job description to push ourselves past the limit, you know. But…honestly? It’s been pretty lonely.”

You make a face at that. “Lonely? You’re literally with twelve other guys, like, eighty percent of the time. How does it ever get lonely?”

Mingyu hums before leaning further over the railing. He looks up at the clear blue sky, breathing deeply with his eyes closed, and for a moment, you’re a bit taken aback by how breathtaking he looks under the spill of morning sunlight.

“You can still get lonely in the middle of all the noise,” he murmurs. “That’s why I was kind of glad I got to go back here for a while. I know I said I meant to help you out, but there might’ve been some selfish reasoning behind the choice, too.”

Your gaze softens at his words. Mingyu is one of the most intensely passionate members of their group, so it’s not hard to believe that he’s also one of those that ends up feeling this way. You remember having a similar conversation with him during a quiet night in your apartment, limbs tangled together under the sheets as he wonders if your lives would be different if he wasn’t an idol.

But of course, it’s your job to remind him that, even if it could become exhausting at times, he once dreamed of being where he is now.

“They probably miss you already,” you say. “Don’t you guys usually film content for Chuseok?”

“Yeah, but all of that’s prerecorded. They’re all with their families right now, too.”

“Really? What are you doing here then?” you tease.

Mingyu tilts his head to the side, lips curved into a lopsided smile that reminds you how it felt to catch feelings for him the first time.

“Who ever said you aren’t family?”

Unfair. He’s being so fucking unfair right now.

But you can’t even think about pushing him into the sea because your father has already made his entrance, waving at the two of you despite his hands being full of fishing paraphernalia.

He sulks about how it took you so long to go back home, and you had to explain that things have been extra hectic at your clinic, especially when you inevitably earned the reputation of being ‘SEVENTEEN Mingyu and Seungkwan’s trusted veterinarian’ despite neither of them having dropped by since the breakup.

You don’t tell them that last part though. The last thing you need is for Mingyu to have something to gloat about.

“It’s a miracle how those nasty paparazzi folks from Dispatch haven’t caught on yet,” your dad says before climbing into the backseat of Mingyu’s company car. “Unless you’re already in cahoots with them? Remember, Kim Mingyu, leave my daughter out of any celebrity gossip! She’s already built a good name for herself.”

A throaty laugh rumbles in Mingyu’s chest as he pulls out into the street. “You don’t have to worry about that, sir. Protecting her has always been my top priority.”

Your father nods, seemingly pleased with his response. “Damn straight.”

You don’t express any outward reaction to what Mingyu just told your dad, but you don’t resist when he reaches for your hand over the center console.

The moment you he squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back.

…

The rest of the day is packed with preparing lunch and dinner options for your other relatives in town. Having Mingyu on board is an undeniable asset, since the man knows his way around the kitchen even better than you do. It’s a little endearing to think that, even if it’s the first time he’s meeting your aunts and uncles and cousins, his personality makes him fit right in.

Turns out, one of your cousins’ daughters is a huge fan, and she couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Kim Mingyu smoking fish in the backyard of your parents’ house. She made him promise to sign one of her photocards before they leave—a request that your ex is all too happy to oblige.

By dinnertime, most of the guests have already left, and it’s just you, Mingyu, and Haneul sharing the rice wine Mingyu brought for the occasion, with your parents having already retired for the night. You didn’t even tell him that your Mom wanted another taste of it, yet he delivered anyway.

“How are you guys doing it?” Haneul whines, a bit red in the face since he’s already had a few beers before your cousins all left. “When my ex-girlfriend moved to another city, it only took two weeks for us to break up. Long distance is the bane of everyone’s existence.”

“Everyone but ours,” Mingyu says before clinking his glass with yours. “You just have to communicate with each other constantly. If you’re honest about everything both of you are feeling, then it’ll be easier to work things out together.”

It’s so easy for him to say these kinds of things. As if your relationship didn’t go to ruin because of the long distance that always kept the two of you apart. You feel a bit bad for having Mingyu lie to your brother right in his face, but you tell yourself that you’re already here anyway.

You’ll just have to fake it until you make it.

“But what if the other party doesn’t want to talk about it?” Haneul sighs, tracing the rim of his own glass with his finger. “I wanted to make it work. I really did. But she… She didn’t even want to try anymore. Lost faith in us so quickly, I could hardly believe she even loved me.”

You know Haneul is just drunkenly rambling about his grievances with his ex. He called you about it a few years ago, long before you even met Mingyu, and you consoled him by saying that his ex-girlfriend never deserved his love in the first place.

But even if you know the circumstances that led to your split with Mingyu are completely different, you can’t help but find similarities between the stories.

You broke up with Mingyu on the first day of spring. When the snow was just beginning to thaw, and the wind started to bring in a warmer climate. They’d just gone back from tour, and you know you’re not the only one feeling the tightly-wound strings of your relationship beginning to fray at the seams.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but I don’t think we’re going to work, Gyu,” you murmured, not having the guts to meet his eyes. “I think it’s best if we just focused on our careers.”

You thought he’d throw a fit. Or at least ask you a bunch of questions. Did he do something wrong? Is he not enough? Yet Mingyu simply flashed you a sad smile before nodding right back at you.

“Okay,” he said with a kind of resignation that breaks your heart to hear. “Thank you for being with me all this time.”

In the present, Mingyu shifts beside you on the table—abruptly startling you out of that impromptu trip down memory lane.

“Then, you’ll just have to take it in stride, Haneul-ah,” he murmurs before throwing back the rest of his drink. Mingyu manages a tight-lipped smile that pains you to look at. “If you really love her, you’ll respect whatever choice she’s come to make in the end. Even if that choice doesn’t involve you anymore. Even if it hurts to see her walk away after everything you’ve built together.”

When Mingyu turns to look at you, you feel like there’s cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth.

“It’s a good thing I never have to experience that with your sister, though. She loves me too much to let me go.”

Haneul huffs from across the table before rising to his feet. “You two are so in love it’s actually disgusting. You know what, let’s just go to sleep.”

Half an hour later, you find yourself standing in the middle of your bedroom as Mingyu gets ready to sleep. He seems to be talking to someone on the phone inside your bathroom, but you purposely decide not to listen in. It was probably his manager or one of the other boys checking in on him.

You don’t wait for him to finish when you climb under the sheets, leaving enough space for him to occupy on the mattress, should he decide to share it with you tonight. There’s also an extra blanket folded on his side of the bed, since Mingyu’s a notorious blanket hogger, and you’d rather not wrestle that six-foot hunk of muscle for warmth.

Mingyu takes so long on that phone call of his that by the time he finishes, you’re already fast asleep, curled up while facing the wall so you wouldn’t have to face him. He chuckles, lingering just a few seconds longer by the doorframe of the bathroom. How long has it been since he’s last seen your face under the peaceful guise of slumber?

It’s been too long, and he isn’t about to pass up on the opportunity to commit the sight into memory.

…

Sometime in the middle of the night, you’re rudely roused by the sudden drop in temperature.

It’s only the beginning of autumn, but you noticed that it’s a lot colder than usual. Even if you already have a cozy blanket draped right on top of you. You sigh, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable before realizing that you’re not exactly alone.

Much like yourself, Mingyu is blinking out the drowsiness in his eyes as he turns to look at you with a question in his sleepy gaze. You shake your head in a wordless attempt to tell him not to worry.

“You’ve been tossing and turning for thirty minutes now,” he says, and hearing his throaty voice in person doesn’t even compare to that phone call you shared a week ago. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “It’s cold, and it isn’t even winter yet.”

He looks at you for a while, as if thinking of what to say before he reaches out for you and tugs you into his arms. Even if you’re practically half-asleep, the sudden action kickstarts your brain into motion, and you struggle against his grip all while whispering, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“You told me back then I’m as good as a furnace on cold days,” he mumbles as he tucks you into his chest—making you hyper aware of every ridge of his toned chest through his shirt. “If it bothers you so much, just think of it as a favor from one friend to another. How’s that sound?”

Friend. You know that’s all that Mingyu is to you these days, and all you are to him, but even in this drowsy haze you’re in, the word still feels like an insult. A word meant to scorn the time you’ve spent as lovers.

Just thinking about Mingyu as a friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, so instead of answering him, you cave and burrow yourself into his warmth—something that he seems pleased with, if the satisfied sound that rumbles in his chest is anything to go by.

He holds you in his arms the same way he did last Christmas, but there’s an unfamiliar sense of possessiveness sinking uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. You know you shouldn’t think of what he’s doing as anything but a favor between friends. You’re perfectly aware that, as the person who officially ended things between the both of you, you have no right to yearn for something you already gave up on.

But when Mingyu tilts your head up so you can meet his sleepy eyes, you don’t even put up a fight when he presses his lips to yours.

It doesn’t seem like he planned on doing anything beyond that. In fact, you don’t think he meant to do it at all. Just a heat-of-the-moment decision that the two of you could just forget about come morning.

However, the moment he starts to pull away, you force a hand across the back of his head, crushing your lips back together as you hook one of your thighs across his hips. Mingyu groans into the kiss, large hands migrating to your waist as he reciprocates your newfound hunger like you knew he would. His touch leaves trails of fire tingling across your skin, and every time his canines graze your bottom lip, you quietly moan into his mouth.

This is stupid. You’re both being incredibly stupid. The walls are anything but soundproof, and your parents are sleeping just across the hall.

Yet you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Mingyu is making your body remember what it feels like to have him all over you like this.

You missed him. His heat. His touch. His kiss. Everything. You missed him so much that it hurts. You missed him so much that when Mingyu’s fingers start to glide along the exposed flesh of your thighs, you detach your lips from his before pushing him away.

You missed Kim Mingyu with the intensity of a dying star collapsing in on itself, of black holes tearing through reality, but this isn’t how you should go about it.

“Let’s…” you whisper, not quite trusting your voice to carry out your message. “Let’s just sleep.”

Mingyu doesn’t argue. He rarely does. But neither do you when he tugs you back in the caging embrace of his warmth.

For the first time in weeks, you find yourself drifting off into undisturbed slumber.

…

The next morning, you’re set to go back to Seoul, and by some stroke of luck, so is Mingyu. Still, the two of you decide to stick around until lunch time—neither of you breathing a word about what just happened last night.

But while Mingyu starts to load both of your things into the trunk of his car, your mother asks you for a favor at the last minute.

“Can you bring Namja along with you back to the city?” she asks. “He’s been really listless before you and Mingyu arrived. Your father and I were starting to get worried, and figured you might have to do a check up first.”

You raise an eyebrow at her claim, not really noticing anything amiss about your retriever’s health, aside from the usual signs of age. He’s ten years old, turning eleven this year, so it isn’t such a mystery to see that Namja isn’t as hyperactive as he was as a puppy. But then again, your mother has spot-on intuition about all the strangest things, so you indulge her request in the end.

Besides, having a pet of your own to keep you company doesn’t sound so bad.

Fortunately, Mingyu is more than hospitable when you ask if you could bring Namja along for the ride—promising that he’s car-trained, and won’t make a mess as long as you pull over from time to time. In fact, your ex seems more elated with the idea of your goldie joining the road trip than you are.

“I can come visit Namja in Seoul whenever I want now, right?” he asks with a soft laugh, and you wanted to reply with, Yeah, if you aren’t always so far away, that is, but choose not to.

The two of you take shifts in driving as usual. Whoever isn’t behind the wheel is in charge of entertaining Namja in the backseat so he wouldn’t end up whining for attention the whole drive back. It’s a setup that you’re pretty okay with, since it minimizes any sort of window for you and Mingyu to have a conversation. God knows you’re not exactly ready to talk about…whatever happened last night.

So instead, you ask him about a bunch of trivial things so he doesn’t get any ideas.

“You sure your manager is okay with you returning the car while it reeks of Namja?” you laugh before switching lanes on the freeway. “He might not take the news that he sheds very lightly.”

Mingyu chuckles before scratching behind Namja’s ears. “I promised I’d have it cleaned before I returned it to the office building. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hm. Whatever you say.”

By your third stop-over, you decide to give Namja some food and water while Mingyu gets takeout for the both of you at a nearby fast food chain. You stretch out your limbs while your retriever happily laps from his water bowl, wondering how much longer it’s going to take before you reach Seoul.

Before you have to part ways with Mingyu again.

You’re startled out of your train of thought when you see Mingyu practically sprinting back to the car, his sunglasses nearly falling off the bridge of his nose. Namja glances up at him quizzically, and you have to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, a bunch of fans spotted me in line, so we might have to get food back in the city instead,” he explains hurriedly as he helps tidy up Namja’s food and water bowls. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

After his meal, Namja is sated and sleepy—content with resting his head on your thigh as you watch the streetlights blur past the windows. Mingyu is a much faster driver than you are, so he’s able to cut the travel time shorter than it would have been had it been you behind the wheel. But the lack of anything to do has you quietly staring at Mingyu from the backseat while his eyes are glued to the road.

You can’t help but let your gaze linger on his strong arms, and the fact that you were tucked safely between them the night prior. But that’s your first mistake because now, you’re thinking about those desperate kisses you shared in the privacy of your room. Touching each other like you both feared the other would disappear if you didn’t pull them close enough.

You shake your head. No. This isn’t how friends should think about each other.

Whatever happened back in Haenam, you’re just going to have to leave it there.

It’s already past eight in the evening when Mingyu eases the car into your neighborhood, and you try not to think much of the fact that he still knows where you live.

“Guess that concludes our weekend getaway,” Mingyu says the moment he finishes helping you carry your stuff back inside your apartment. “Though it seems that someone’s getting pretty cozy really quickly.”

Namja is already familiarizing himself with his new home, wandering around the living room all while sniffing everything in his path. You stifle a soft laugh.

“Yeah. I guess it is,” you murmur before managing a kind smile. “Thanks for having my back, Mingyu. It…means a lot. Really, it does.”

He laughs softly, eyes trailing around the living room with a curiosity that isn’t so different from Namja’s. “You have your first boyfriend with you now. I can rest easy knowing you’re in good company.”

Your face flushes at the thought that Mingyu still remembers the reasoning behind Namja’s namesake. Namjachingu. When he was still a puppy, you said Namja was your first boyfriend, and that you didn’t need anyone else.

He lived up to his title for years, too—always acting hostile around past boyfriends that you did end up bringing to your parents’ house despite coming from a friendly breed. The only boyfriend that your first boyfriend seemed to approve of is the man standing right in front of you, just when you thought you would never see him again within the four corners of your house.

“You know,” Mingyu begins, hesitation crossing his face for a split second before he meets your eyes. “My family’s in Seoul for Chuseok, too. I told Minseo to bring Bobpul and Baptori, and you might want to schedule a little playdate between my kids and yours.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Where’s Aji?”

“Too old to travel around,” he chuckles. “But I’m sure the other two can keep Namja company just fine. Join us tomorrow for dinner. What do you say?”

You hesitate. This should’ve been where you drew the line. Mingyu has already helped you out of your initial predicament. You really shouldn’t create any more problems for yourself by joining his family for a late Chuseok dinner. In fact…

“What, you haven’t told your family that we split either?” you ask, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

“No, they know.” Mingyu shakes his head. “But they’ve always liked you too, so I see no harm in getting everyone to hang out in one place.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “You know this is just going to make things more complicated, right?”

When he flashes you that toothy grin, you already know that this is a losing battle.

“It does, but it’s still going to be fun,” he says. “So, are you coming?”

Sometimes, you wish you never met Mingyu at all. Maybe your life wouldn’t be so fucking difficult.

“Fine.”

…

The next day, you bring Namja to the clinic, and Chae is more than happy to see the brand new addition to the workforce. But while she’s giving your goldie more pets than he probably deserves, you ask if you have any clients coming this morning that called in advance.

“Oh, there’s this one guy who’s bringing in a maltese today,” she says, laughing a little when Namja whines at the fact that her attention is divided. “I think his name was… Seungkwan? Something like that. He has some records from last year, but he hasn’t been back since.”

Seungkwan’s coming today? Huh. Talk about coincidence.

You tell Chae about how Seungkwan and Mingyu belong to the same group, and your receptionist is adept enough to catch on to what you’re trying to say. She’s all too quick to suggest plans on how to mitigate the fans from flocking the entrance to the clinic, like that one time when Mingyu was too lax in disguising himself from anyone who could recognize him.

But when Seungkwan arrives at your door, you remember that he’s one of the members that doesn’t particularly like being crowded by people, even if they are his fans.

He’s dressed discreetly—dark shades, a beanie, and a black face mask—while carrying an adorable pet carrier that’s probably worth half your monthly salary. Seungkwan is so straight-to-the-point with carrying out his business with you, that it’s hard to believe you and him used to joke around like old friends a year ago.

But for some reason, when Chae excuses herself to answer a phone call, the façade he puts up falls apart in seconds.

“Noona, you have no idea how much I missed you!” he wails before throwing his arms around you. “Other vets just don’t cut it for Bookkeu! They’re always either too mean or too lax with her. You handled her just right today. Can’t believe Mingyu-hyung always calls you her worst enemy.”

You chuckle before patting his back, and Seungkwan pulls away with a pout on his face. “Hey, you guys are the ones who ghosted me after Mingyu and I broke up. You’re always welcome to come back to have your pets checked—non-showbiz girlfriend or not.”

“That hyung of mine is stupid,” Seungkwan scoffs as he scoops Bookkeu into his arms. “Well, you’re kind of the same way, but I can’t exactly call you stupid or you might take it out on Bookkeu—”

“I would do no such thing, Seungkwan-ah,” you complain.

“Okay, it’s just my personal opinion that maybe you two didn’t have to split up at all,” he huffs. “Mingyu-hyung has become more and more listless since you broke up with him. He might look like his usual self on camera, but when we’re not recording anything? He’s always so lost in thought! It gets on Coups-hyung’s nerves sometimes.”

Listless, huh…

Your mother said the exact same thing about Namja. Speaking of, your gaze drifts over to your goldie who’s staring outside the door to your clinic, like he’s waiting for Chae to come back and shower him with attention again.

Is Seungkwan insinuating that he and Mingyu aren’t so different?

“Maybe he’s just going through a blue period,” you suggest before writing up a prescription for the vitamins that Bookkeu will have to take for the next two weeks. “It’s been so long since we broke up. I doubt he’s acting that way because of me.”

Seungkwan breathes in deeply, like he’s just barely able to contain the urge to slap some sense into you. “Noona, listen to me. Kim Mingyu is catastrophically in love with you. When you called that night when we were sharing a hotel room in New York, it was the first time I saw him look so genuinely happy for reasons that aren’t related to our music. But that hyung of mine is too selfless for his own good.”

You startle a bit when he suddenly lifts Bookkeu closer to you and points her adorable face in your line of sight.

“He wants you back, but he’ll never admit it, especially when you made your choice clear all those months ago,” Seungkwan says before pushing his maltese even closer to you. “But now, something tells me that you’re still hung up on him, just as much as he’s hung up on you—if all the things he told me about your trip to Haenam are true, that is.”

Huh. That time he took so long in the bathroom… He must’ve been talking to Seungkwan.

“Okay, but why does it feel like you’re using Bookkeu to threaten me into doing something?” You laugh softly. “Seungkwan, our time is up. And it’s not something we can just take back whenever we feel like it.”

“Wh—! Don’t you think things are only that way because both of you are making it more complicated than it should be?” He sighs, exasperated. “Also, yes I am using Bookkeu to threaten you. Promise that you’ll at least talk to Mingyu-hyung about this? We can’t stand seeing him so out of it anymore. Come on, you can’t resist those cute puppy eyes, right?”

You sigh, half-considering pointing out that Bookkeu is, by no means, a puppy anymore, but then again, you still call Namja that despite being more than a decade old.

“Alright, alright,” you relent. “I’m meeting his family tonight for dinner anyways. Might as well clear the air.”

Seungkwan gasps, a comical expression rooting itself on his face. “See! You’re having dinner with his family, too?! If you’re not back together by the time we fly back to the U.S., I'm never talking to either of you ever again.”

Now, it’s your turn to pout. “Who are you going to go to for Bookkeu’s check-ups then?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again before letting out a petulant huff. You can’t help the snicker that bubbles in your chest as Seungkwan tilts his chin up with indignance.

“Point taken,” he says before narrowing his eyes and pointing his index finger at you. “But I’m expecting Kim Mingyu to come back to the dorms later, happy and not heartbroken. Okay?”

You raise your hands before handing him your written prescription. “No promises.”

When Chae returns inside the clinic, you physically have to hold Namja down just so she can give Seungkwan a receipt for today’s visit. Your mother was right, he definitely was growing lonely back in Haenam. You haven’t seen him this excited in years.

Seungkwan bids you another, more formal goodbye, now that you're not alone anymore. He doesn’t need to reiterate what he asked of you out loud—the look in his eyes is already telling enough.

Given that today is a bit of a slow day, you decide to run a few diagnostic tests on Namja just to confirm whether or not he’s silently carrying some sort of disease. But all his results came out normal, except for a clinically insignificant but still noticeable increase in his body sodium levels. Might have to cut down the treats for a few days.

Otherwise, he’s happy and healthy ten—going eleven—years into his lifespan. The reason for his lethargy back home must have something to do with innate loneliness after all.

Then you remember what Seungkwan told you about Mingyu. How he hasn’t really been himself since the breakup. You never really felt that during your time together in your hometown. He’s still the effortless charmer that you once fell in love with. The big softie that can get along with anyone and everyone, given the right circumstances.

Mingyu has always been a people pleaser. The last thing he wants to do is inconvenience others. So it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s been so out of it that even Seungcheol is starting to get pissed with his behavior.

The sound of Namja barking jolts you out of your thoughts before your goldie pads over to where you’re seated behind your desk, whining as he nuzzles your hands as if he knows you’re thinking a bit too hard about something distressful. You let out a quiet laugh, scratching behind his ears just like you know he likes.

“I wonder what I’m supposed to do,” you chuckle. “Maybe I should’ve been born as a dog instead. Thinking about all of this is giving me a headache.”

Namja growls before barking again. Like he doesn’t approve of the idea of not having you as his fur parent. You let out another laugh that’s a lot less quiet before you decide to pull out your phone and shoot Mingyu a text.

Are you picking me up later or not?

…

Dinner with Mingyu’s family is splendid

The outdoor restaurant his mother booked in advance probably serves the best songpyeon you’ve ever tasted in your life. Add that to the fact that they accommodate pets in their alfresco area, this could easily be one of the next places you’ll take your own parents for a meal when you bring them to Seoul for a quick getaway.

Namja is a bit shy around other animals—a result of being around no one but your family for so long. But when Minseo introduces him to both Bobpul and Baptori at the same time, the two little rascals easily coaxed your senior citizen goldie out of his shell. Next thing you know, they’re running around the outdoor dining area like a bunch of energetic pups.

“Unnie, are you back together with this guy?” Minseo asks in the middle of dessert, pointing her spoon accusingly at Mingyu. “You can do so much better than him, though.”

Their father laughs at their youngest’s comment, and their mother rubs Mingyu’s back as if she agrees, yet still wishes to console her son regardless. Mingyu is simply scowling at his family for how quick they are to throw him under the bus.

“Shut up, you sound just like Seungkwan,” he whines.

“Well, we’re both right.”

You let out a laugh of your own before scooping some ice cream into your mouth. Then, tentatively, you say, “Don’t say that. Gyu wasn’t that terrible of a boyfriend, you know?”

“He’s always so busy though. Doesn’t even have time to come visit Bobpul and our other dogs anymore,” Minseo sulks. “He even missed my graduation! Can you believe it?”

Mingyu pouts. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

She huffs. “Not sorry enough!”

“Well, for starters, even if he is ridiculously busy, he still makes sure to call me before he goes to bed after a particularly tough schedule,” you say. “He also answers my calls even if our time zones are different, and it’s an ungodly hour where he currently is. Then when he finally comes back to Korea, he’ll give a bunch of gifts that reminded him of me on his trip overseas.”

You don’t know what compelled you to do so, but the words just gush out naturally. It was a little difficult the first time Mingyu had to hop on a plane to some other country to film some content with the boys, but you eventually got used to it, and managed to make a couple work-arounds.

Now that you think about it, if you were so used to it, why’d you decide it was best for you to part ways when he got back from tour? It’s been so long that you don’t even know the logic behind the reasoning anymore. You just remember feeling like it was the best decision at the time. And you were right—your careers have definitely thrived even after the breakup.

As you continue telling Minseo and their parents about how much of a catch the eldest son of the Kim family really is, you fail to notice the way Mingyu’s eyes never leave you the entire time. Soft, with just a hint of yearning that you’ll only be able to notice if you knew what you were looking for.

“Ugh, fine,” Minseo huffs, and you don’t think she and Seungkwan are all that different from each other. “This is the first time I’ve seen a couple that’s broken up months ago talk about each other so fondly, still. You sure you two aren’t secretly dating again?”

“Minseo,” their mother scolds before flashing you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about her. Minseo’s just been really snappy lately. Must be because she missed Mingyu here very much.”

She rolls her eyes. “As if I’ll miss that credit-grabbing punk. He didn’t even acknowledge me in his latest Instagram post!”

“Speaking of dating again,” their father interjects before taking a sip of his wine. “Minseo’s right about one thing at least. You and Mingyu still have chemistry after so long. What’s stopping you from getting back together again?”

At your side, Mingyu flashes his father a cautionary look. “Dad, that’s a really inappropriate question, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes, of course. My apologies. This old man is really just…curious, so to speak.”

He bows his head slightly, and you make a little gesture that insists you took no offense. But the inquiry definitely made you think for a moment.

It’s like everyone you know completely supports the idea of you and Mingyu just burying the hatchet and rekindling your relationship. But didn’t they consider the logistics of it? You’re a full-time vet and Mingyu’s a full-time idol that travels out of Korea at least once a month. Though you’re a bit unsure of it now, that still played a part in why you called it quits in the first place.

Even when Mingyu took it upon himself to drive you and Namja back to your apartment, his father’s question still lingers in the back of your mind.

What’s stopping you from getting back together again?

The answer is pretty simple, but it’s not something you’re ready to face just yet.

It’s you. You’re the only one keeping yourselves from reigniting what you once thought was already lost. Your guilt. Your regrets. Your fears. You didn’t need a verbal confirmation to know that Mingyu would drop everything in a heartbeat if it meant you’ll take him back again. But as much as your friends joke about how you deserve better than Mingyu, you’re convinced it’s the other way around.

Mingyu deserves someone who can reciprocate the love he’s so willing to give tenfold. Someone who doesn’t flake out when he needs them most.

Someone who isn’t you.

When he pulls over a red light, he lets out a sigh as he checks the text messages that popped up on his phone. After a few scrolls he says, “Oh. Jeonghan-hyung texted about some party in Gangnam. Do you want to—”

“Gyu,” you whisper, eyes riveted on the busy street. “What are we doing?”

He blinks. “Celebrating Chuseok together?”

“But we’re friends right?” You laugh somewhat bitterly. “Friends don’t normally celebrate the entirety of their Chuseok weekend bonding with each other’s families. Friends don’t make out with each other in the middle of the night. And…”

You let out a shuddering sigh before adding, “Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at me.”

You can clearly hear the sound of his breath hitching even if you don’t turn to look at him. It seems like he was about to say something in return, but the stoplight turns green, and he’s back to pulling his focus on the road instead of you.

In the backseat, you can hear Namja whining—ever the empath, that one. You immediately feel him pawing against your seat, as if silently asking what’s wrong. Turning around, you give him a few reassuring pats, not wanting to get claw marks all over Mingyu’s borrowed car.

The two of you are completely silent as he walks you back to the front door of your apartment. You know he didn’t have to, yet he did anyway. How Mingyu of him.

When you finally muster the courage to look up at him and bid him good night, Mingyu grabs your wrist—forcing you to meet his desperate gaze.

“If I told you I wanted you back, would anything change? No, right?” he whispers, voice tinged with so much emotion, you can feel your own heart ache at the sound of it. “So I’m sorry if I’m being selfish for inviting you to every place I could think of. If I want to spend as much time with you as I can because I know I won’t ever get the chance to do so if I let this pass.”

When he presses your foreheads together, the look in his eyes is so smoldering, you can’t bear to look away. This is what a man that’s been yearning for you for months looks like, it seems.

And you don’t think you can keep resisting him for long.

“Before I get thrown back into that haywire of a schedule again,” he whispers, and you feel every breath fan across your skin, “can’t you at least let me have this? Let me have you?”

You don’t even know who it is that lunges in for the kiss. The next thing you know, Mingyu has you pressed up against your front door, devouring your lips where all your neighbors can see. But you don’t care. Not when he’s desperately holding your body flush against his as you reclaim what’s always been yours.

He whispers a bunch of things along the column of your neck as he loosens the strings holding your dress together from behind. Some sweet, some endearing, and others a touch too filthy for others to hear aloud. You stifle your little gasps when he wraps a strong arm around your waist, nudging your thighs apart with his knees so you can feel the hardness straining against his middle.

“It’s you,” he murmurs against your feverish skin, teeth grazing across your flesh ever-so lightly. “It’s always been you. And it will always be you.”

You know Mingyu is a good actor. But it’s so earth-shatteringly different to hear the raw desperation in his voice. How earnest he is in telling you just how much he still loves you without saying the words outright. You can only dream of being as honest with your true feelings as he is.

But tonight, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting yourself fall.

In the midst of your mounting desire for each other, though, a lone whine in the night snaps both you and Mingyu out of your newfound vigor. You nearly forgot about Namja, who’s impatiently waiting for either of you to open the front door so he can finally take a nap. You glance at Mingyu, and he glances right back, before the two of you burst out laughing like a couple of teenagers without a care in the world.

Once you’ve gotten your needy retriever settled outside, Mingyu practically tosses you on the bed the moment the door to your room clicks shut—all too eager to cage you between his arms as he continues where you left off.

The suit he wore tonight looked a bit too good on his frame, but now you want nothing more than to claw it off him. He chuckles, sensing your desperation as he shrugs off his coat and unbuttons his dress shirt along the way.

“I don’t remember you being this desperate for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning down to grasp your face as he strokes your heated skin with his thumb. “I can’t say I hate the development though.”

“Mingyu,” you whimper as you guide his thumb to your lips, suckling on it in a way that you know makes him lose his mind every time. “Please. I want you.”

It’s so easy to be honest with yourself. You wonder why you’ve struggled with doing that for so long, but then you remember that your brain is fogged with desire for the man that’s currently staring you down like he’s doing everything in his power not to fuck you into the mattress right away.

But at that moment, you throw all logic and caution in the wind in exchange for taking even more of Mingyu’s thick fingers into your mouth.

“So good for me,” he whispers when he sees you inch your knees apart to welcome him in between. The hand that’s not being fellated by your tongue finds its way to the apex of your thighs—cupping your clothed heat in a way that makes you moan around his fingers. “How badly do you want me, sweet thing?”

“So, so badly,” you manage to wrench out despite your mouth being full, rutting your hips to introduce some friction between your aching pussy and his hand. “Please, Gyu…”

When he’s satisfied, his free hand migrates to your thighs, spreading you further apart as he brings his lubricated fingers to your sopping core. There’s something so fucking hot in the way he just nudges your panties to the side—groaning when he finds you already soaked for him.

“You need something to stretch out this pretty little pussy, don’t you?” he murmurs into your ear, nipping at the lobe just the way you like it. “You want my fingers or my cock, babygirl? Better choose wisely.”

You want to say that you’re too fucking horny for foreplay, but also remember that each time you had sex with Mingyu in the past, the stretch of his massive cock can be quite uncomfortable if he doesn’t prep you. With how long it’s been since you’ve laid in bed together, you don’t want to rush into it without thinking of the consequences after.

So, you mewl, “Fingers first. Then your cock.”

Mingyu laughs—a deep, sexy sound—before planting a kiss on your nose. “That’s my girl.”

He carefully eases one digit into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he gauges your reactions. Part of you wishes to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry so much. That you still trust him with your own body even after all this time. You don’t say anything aloud, but Mingyu seems to get the gist from the look in your eyes either way, surging forward so he can press his lips back onto yours as he loosens you up.

“You’re always so quick to get wet for me, baby,” he sighs, stifling the noise that escapes you when he slides in a second finger to test the resistance of your walls. “You’ve no idea how much I missed this. Missed you .”

“Gyu, I—” Your breath hitches once he curls his fingers just so, making your legs rise involuntarily off the mattress, but Mingyu pins one of your thighs down with his free hand.

“What was that?”

He’s teasing. He rarely ever does that. You shoot him a petulant look before taking his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging hard enough to coax a groan out of him.

“I missed you, too,” you whisper. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good.”

A dozen emotions flit through Mingyu’s face in the span of a millisecond, but the one that remains is something not so different from longing. You hear him sigh a couple of words that you don’t quite catch before he’s taking his fingers out of your sopping cunt and pulling away from you. Just when you’re about to voice out a complaint, he starts undoing his trousers, kicking them away to some uncharted part of your bedroom before working on the rest of his dress shirt.

Not-so-newsflash: your ex-boyfriend is still fucking hot.

But he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re reacting to the sultry way in which he peels his clothes off—dark eyes still trained on your pliant form on the bed. As Mingyu palms himself through his boxers, you can’t help but press your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come.

There was a time when he railed you so good, you legitimately couldn’t walk straight the next day. You wonder if he plans on reenacting the whole thing tonight.

“Let’s get you out of that dress, sweetheart,” he breathes before gently guiding you back into a seated position, tugging at the hem of your dress before tossing it to the side.

You feel your cheeks warm when he stares at the underwear set you have on tonight. Plain cotton panties and plain cotton bra. In your defense, you really didn’t expect to get laid tonight.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mingyu chuckles. It’s either he can read minds or he still knows you well enough to figure out what you’re thinking. “I’m taking everything off anyways.”

As he makes quick work of what’s left of your clothing, you distantly remember the last conversation you had with Seungkwan. How you told him you’d ‘clear the air’ with Mingyu right after having dinner with his family.

You’re pretty sure what you’re doing right now is only blurring the lines even more, but you don’t really fucking care right now.

You let out a hushed moan when Mingyu latches his mouth onto your nipple, massaging your other breast as he swirls the appendage across your sensitive skin. His free arm snakes itself behind the curve of your waist, pressing you against his firm body while rutting his hips against the bed.

He’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, and it fills you with a heady sort of hunger that only Mingyu can alleviate.

“Can I?” he whispers.

You feel his teeth graze across the skin of your chest, making your toes curl with anticipation. It’s been a while, but you can’t easily forget how much of a biter Mingyu is in bed. He loves leaving his marks on your body, and even if you always complain about how hard it is to cover them up, you let him do as he pleases every single time.

“Yes,” you whimper, rubbing your bare pussy against the ridge of his abs. “Do whatever you want with me, Gyu.”

The sound you let out once he finally bites down is caught between a yelp and a moan, your fingers threading across his hair as he suckles on your skin. He’s such a talker in bed, too—whispering all sorts of endearments that are too soft for you to hear, but add fuel to your growing desire regardless.

“So fucking pretty,” he says once he detaches himself from your breasts and marvels at his own work. The fruit of his effort is yet to become visible, but he’s left enough angry red marks on your skin to guarantee the lovebites they’ll turn into come morning. “And it’s all for me.”

Lacing your fingers around his nape, you mold your lips together in another kiss, tongues dancing to the rhythm of your erratic heartbeat as you grind yourself against his toned stomach.

“Mingyu,” you whimper against his mouth—hot and heavy. “I need you inside me. Need to get stretched on your cock.”

He groans again, fisting your hair so that he can kiss you even deeper. As he busies you with his mind-numbing kisses, Mingyu gets rid of his boxers in a flash—positioning himself between your thighs. You nearly cry out when you feel the fat head of his cock sliding against your soaking slit. When he grazes your sensitive clit, you could’ve sworn tears started together in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck, babygirl, so fucking wet for me,” he sighs as he lays you back down on the bed and eases your knees further apart.

You bite your lip at the sight of his cock, still as long and girthy as you remember. Mingyu pumps his length all while sliding the head across your cunt, but you let out another desperate mewl to just fuck you already.

“Shhh,” he says, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Let me take my time with you, sweetheart. I want you to commit all of this to memory. Gonna have you feeling me inside you for days.”

And you don’t doubt that. Kim Mingyu has a knack for making it hard for people to forget about him, and if he plans to fuck the shape of his cock into your pussy, who are you to complain?

When you feel his cock catch across your entrance, you genuinely wonder if it’s going to hurt. Mingyu’s attempt at foreplay was cut halfway through because he got distracted by his sudden desire to leave a trail of love bites all over your breasts. But the thing about having sex with Mingyu is that your comfort is his top priority.

He would never do anything that he knows can hurt you.

“I’ll go slow, alright?” he whispers, and all you can manage is a nod. “Words, baby. You have to talk to me so I’ll know if you really want it.”

“Gyu,” you whine, arching your hips in a feeble attempt to get him to fuck into you. “I’m alright. Anything you do is alright with me, just— Please. Please fuck me full.”

He sighs, staring down like he doesn’t know what to do with you before finally, finally, you feel his dick breach your entrance—pushing inch by delicious inch inside you with restrained hunger. You fist the sheets at the familiar stretch, but it’s not so uncomfortable that the sensation burns. You’ve taken Mingyu’s cock dozens of times before, and it seems that your body still knows how to accommodate his ridiculous size.

“Pretty pussy’s happy to see me again,” he chuckles, his grip on your thighs tightening ever-so slightly. “Still made to fit me so snuggly. Did you miss my cock, sweet thing? I can feel you pulsing around me.”

“Yes,” you drawl. “Missed your cock so fucking much, Gyu. Fuck—”

You feel so hot, so full. It’s like Mingyu’s the only thing you’ve ever known—surrounding you in every direction until all that floats in your lust-addled mind are the letters of his name. Once he buries himself to the hilt, Mingyu doesn’t move right away, still so attentive to your reactions that even if you want nothing more than for him to rail you into the mattress, he won’t press forward until he’s sure you’re ready.

“Is it too much?” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Do you need more time to get used to me?”

Something similar to a growl reverberates in your chest as you stare at Mingyu hard. “What I need is…for you to fuck me until I black out.”

Mingyu’s lips turn up into a grin as he shakes his head. “Baby, the last thing I want to be is some sex-deprived savage after we’ve been apart for so long. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Then, he leans forward on the bed again, bringing his lips right next to your ear.

“But I can still make you feel good.”

He prefaces the words with a powerful thrust that you don’t expect, splaying your thighs further until they’re flat against the mattress. The slide of his cock still feels so unbelievably good that even if the sudden stretch should’ve been uncomfortable, you’re too blindsided by the pleasure to notice.

Your eyes trail across the beautiful man above you as he fucks you in his favorite position. Mingyu has always had a thing for missionary—something about wanting to see your face as he wrecks you. You think you’re starting to share the same sentiment because not only do you get to see his fat cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt, but you can admire all of him at once, as well.

The exertion in those toned arms with every forward thrust. The conspicuous outline of his pecs. That toned fucking stomach. That gorgeous fucking face, so lost in the velvet heat of your pussy—

Why did you ever think letting someone like this go was a good idea?

“You’re going to laugh at me for this but,” Mingyu breathes, chuckling to himself. “I think I’m kinda close.”

You do laugh, but it’s quickly silenced when one of his fingers finds your clit, rubbing it in quick, precise circles like he hasn’t forgotten how to get you off after all this time.

“I am, too,” you tell him. “Cock so fucking good, you can make me come in minutes.”

Mingyu lets out another guttural noise as he presses your knees to your chest, throwing your legs over his shoulder with a look in his eyes that promises nothing but pleasure. Though his fingers have departed your puffy clit, the angle he has you bent in has his cock easily grazing your g-spot with every thrust—reducing you into a pathetic, mewling mess underneath him.

“Your pussy’s a fucking drug, babygirl,” he sighs. “Haven’t wanted anyone else after you.”

Even in your cock-drunk haze, those words bring forth some semblance of clarity within you. But it’s immediately snuffed out when Mingyu amps up the cadence of his thrusts, fucking into you with the intention of bringing you to completion at the same time he achieves it. Your eyes are screwed shut, fingers finding purchase across the ripping muscles of his back as you babble an incoherent mantra of yes, yes, so close, so fucking close, love how you fuck me, love how you make me feel full—

And then, it’s over—a white hot flash like stars bursting behind your eyelids. You curl into Mingyu’s embrace as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, and he’s all too glad to help you ride it out, pistoning inside your spasming walls with a rhythm that’s starting to stagger.

“So goddamn tight,” he growls. “Where do you want my cum, sweetheart?”

You’re still too blissed out to give him a proper response, but from the way your legs tighten themselves around his waist, Mingyu figures that that’s the green light he needs to make a mess out of you. Mingyu sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck before biting down—his cock twitching in the heat of your cunt as his release gushes into you in thick globs.

He comes so much that when Mingyu does pull out of your abused pussy, his essence trickles out of your hole as you do your best to catch your breath. The world is just starting to return to its normal axis in your vision, and the first thing that your eyes focus on is the sight of Mingyu smiling at you so fondly, it makes your heart hurt.

The look scares you. Like he’s about to say something that you don’t know how to respond to.

So instead of giving him any leeway for conversation, you tug him back down into a tongue-filled kiss, rubbing your ruined pussy across his still hard length as you mewl against his lips.

“More,” you whimper. “I need more, Gyu.”

And he’s all too happy to oblige.

Mingyu slides himself back inside you with an ease that wasn’t present earlier—your mixed arousal acting as a good enough lubricant to accommodate him. His erratic breathing as he fucks his cum deeper inside you only serves to turn you on even more, making another orgasm creep ever-so slightly beneath your skin.

“Babygirl can’t get enough of this cock, can you?” he sighs. “Seems to me like your pussy never wants me to leave.”

“Yes!” you hiss, moving your hips in time with his as you desperately claw at his back. “Love your cock so much, please—”

“Come for me again, sweet thing, I know you can do it.”

It’s unbelievable how a few choice words can get your body to submit to his whims without much thought. Unlike your first orgasm, the second one that Mingyu coaxes out of you singes through every functional nerve-ending in your body—sending you into a flurry of overstimulation that has you twitching under his touch.

Just when you thought Mingyu’s finally done with you, however, he suddenly flips you onto your stomach—pressing your chest against the mattress while your ass is high in the air. The sudden change in positions makes your head spin, but you’re too dazed to protest.

When you glance over your shoulder, he’s showing you that same smile you fell in love with a lifetime ago.

“You can give me a few more orgasms, right, baby?”

When he slides his still hard cock along your swollen cunt, you groan into the sheets—having momentarily forgotten that Mingyu’s stamina can go until morning. If you don’t stop him now, he might actually fuck you until you black out, despite his earlier refutal.

But honestly? You’re not against the idea. Not one bit.

…

When you wake up the following day, it’s to cold sheets and the startling clarity of Mingyu’s absence.

You never minded living alone. You’ve been doing it since your first year of college here in Seoul. You’re used to waking up with nothing but the silence of your room to keep you company.

Even when you eventually got together with Mingyu, lonely mornings have always been a staple, especially on days where he has early schedules. It fills you with a sinking feeling to see that he isn’t with you, but you’ve learned to take it in stride.

Besides…it’s not like you’re together anymore now.

This is what you wanted, right? For him to not treat…whatever this is as if it’s a relationship thing. The two of you were just heavily pent up, and caved into your mutual desires last night. There’s nothing more to it.

However, when you pad outside the bedroom after shrugging on a flimsy oversized shirt, the scent of pancakes and frying eggs fills your nose. When you see Namja sitting right next to a tall figure hunched over your stove, you can hardly believe your eyes.

He doesn’t notice you right away—too preoccupied with making the perfect breakfast to pick up on your presence. Namja, however, is more perceptive, glancing behind and perking up at the sight of you. He lets out an excited bark before skidding over to where you’re standing, and you crouch down to the floor so you can give him a tight hug.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Mingyu faces you with a smile that’s nearly blinding in the morning light, a spatula in one hand and a kitchen mitt in the other. It’s the exact same scene that you’re greeted with during lazy weekends where he doesn’t have any work to do, and your chest twists yet again at the memory.

“Yeah, I am.” You smile, rubbing Namja’s belly when he sprawls himself on the floor. “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have to go back to New York tonight?”

“Yes, but it’s still morning,” he points out, and you roll your eyes.

A few minutes later, Mingyu starts to set the table while you wash your hands. He tells you about how Seungkwan doesn’t want to room with him anymore over breakfast because Mingyu takes so long to close the lights when he’s binging a new drama. You tell him to be more considerate of his roommates or they might just dropkick him off the hotel room balcony in his sleep.

When you help him put away the dishes, the sight is so…domestic, it gives you whiplash. Bumping shoulders, splashing water, stifling mutual laughter... Being with him like this, tucked in your own little pocket of happiness makes your heart soar in ways that not even mind-blowing sex can help you attain.

You pray that Mingyu doesn’t breathe a word about it, but of course things don’t always go your way.

Just when you’re about to turn around to give Namja her morning fix of dog food, you find yourself trapped between the sink and Mingyu’s arms—unable to escape the fondness in his eyes even if you tried.

“I think,” he whispers, “we can still make this work. You and me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Gyu…”

You think so, too. With someone as understanding and compassionate as Mingyu, you know nothing’s impossible if you just quit being so stubborn. You were so afraid of him attempting to bring your relationship back to life last night, but…

Seeing him bathing under the sunlight in your kitchen after months of getting used to being alone again…

Maybe it isn’t so bad to let him back inside your heart.

“O-Of course, you don’t have to answer right away,” he says, turning red in the face. Cute. “You can tell me when I get back from New York. How’s that sound?”

You’re about to open your mouth to respond, but the moment is quickly shattered by the sound of Mingyu’s phone going off. He sighs, releasing you from the figurative cage of his arms as he leans against the sink right next to you—fishing his phone from his pocket before answering it in loudspeaker.

“Kim Mingyu, where the hell are you?!”

“Good morning to you, too, Seungkwan-ah,” he chuckles. “Why? What’s wrong? I told Jeonghan-hyung I won’t be coming back to the dorms until noon.”

“Well, Jeonghan-hyung must’ve forgotten to tell everyone else because the entire dorm panicked when we realized you didn’t make it home!” the younger man squawks. “We thought something bad happened! You weren’t answering your phone last night either!”

You and Mingyu exchanged knowing looks, and you have to stifle your laughter if you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Seungkwan’s rage, too.

“Sorry about that, I was a little…busy,” Mingyu supplies.

“Well, whatever you’ve been ‘busy’ with, you better get your ass back here! Manager-hyung is looking for the car you borrowed, and if you don’t bring it back soon, he’s going to give all of us an earful.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be back in thirty. Bye, Seungkwan.”

“Hey—!”

Mingyu ends the call with little remorse before letting out a long sigh. When his eyes dart back to yours, they flicker momentarily to your lips before he leans forward. You meet him halfway this time, pressing your mouths together in a firm kiss.

“I’ll be back,” he murmurs. “I hope you’ll still be willing to accommodate me when I do.”

Though it pains you, he peels himself away from your touch, leaning down to kiss Namja’s head as he gathers his coat in his arms. It just occurred to you that he’s been eating breakfast with you donned with the outfit he wore last night while you’re dressed in nothing but a loose, oversized shirt. The knowledge makes you blush a little.

When you hear Mingyu’s car drive away, you sigh, running your hands through your messy hair. Namja pads over to you, tail wagging as he anticipates another round of petting. Of course you indulge him.

“Kim Mingyu is such an idiot, isn’t he?” you tell your goldie, and you like to think the small huff he lets out means he’s agreeing with you. “Why wait until he comes back when I already have an answer for him?”

This time, Namja actually barks out loud, making you shake your head with a laugh.

You don’t mind waiting for Mingyu, really. He obviously doesn’t mind waiting for you. At this point, you’re at peace with the fact that you might still love him. Maybe, you never stopped loving him at all. Once he lands back in Korea and comes home to you, you promise yourself that you’ll definitely show him.

Again and again.

this is part of the doting on you! series.

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #fake dating #mingyu smut #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

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pathologicalreid · 4 months

Text

occupational hazard | S.R.

You and Spencer have a discussion about the dangers of his job.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: plot discussions from 9x23 (angels) and 9x24 (demons), canon compliant injuries, crying, established relationship word count: 1.23k a/n: thought of this while i couldn't sleep after watching the season 9 finale. also its me. I'm the crier.

Your mother always said you had a problem with staring. In the grocery store as a kid, she would pull you to the side and tell you that you were being rude. It always confused you because you didn’t think it was possible to be rude without speaking.

Spencer never seemed to mind your staring, he’d ask if everything was alright, but he never really asked you to stop or told you off.

So, while he was over at your apartment, sitting on the couch grading papers, you just stared at him. You studied how his hair fell in front of his face as he scrawled on the printed paper, and how he set his jaw when he noticed a mistake. Your brows furrowed when you noticed a small scar on the side of his neck, a confused noise escaped your throat.

That got his attention, “What’s wrong?” He asked, matching your furrowed brows before setting his pen down.

Cocking your head curiously, you leaned forward to try to look at his neck, “What is that?” You whispered. It was an old scar, so you could only really notice it when the light hit it just right.

“What is what?” He asked, looking behind him and on his shirt like he was looking for a spill.

Gently, you reached out your hand and touched the scar with your fingertips. “Where did you get this scar?” You couldn’t believe you had never noticed it before – the two of you had been dating for more than half a year.

He reached up his hand and met yours, intertwining your hands together, “On a case in Texas.”

Your lips parted slightly as you looked at the scar again. “How did you get that scar on a case in Texas?” You asked, even though you were fairly certain you knew the answer.

Turning, Spencer set all of the papers on the side table before he turned back to face you. “I was shot in the neck,” he answered almost a little too calmly. As if it was just another day in the office, and maybe it was to him.

It certainly wasn’t to you. “What do you mean you got shot in the neck?” You asked, your voice was high and reedy with panic. Fear settled in your chest on behalf of a version of your boyfriend you didn’t even know.

“Hey, hey,” he said in an attempt to calm you down. “I’m okay, this happened almost five years ago, love. I’m fine,” he said, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands.

Your eyes were still wide, like deer in the headlights wide, and you nodded despite yourself. “That’s so scary, Spence,” you whispered as emotion burned in your throat. You knew he worked for the FBI and had for a long time. You knew he had been in love with a girl who was killed in front of him – that’s why he was so protective sometimes. You knew he had been in prison for three months for a crime he didn’t commit – that’s why he taught classes for thirty days. This was the first thing you had figured out – you had told him to tell you everything in his own time.

For a moment, he watched you like he had something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure where to start.

You sat on your heels and retracted your hands from his neck, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry I just… I saw the scar.” Awkwardly settling your hands in your lap, you sighed. “You’re right, it was a long time ago.”

“Wait, what just happened?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

Shrugging, you settled into the couch cushions. “I just saw the scar and I was curious,” you whispered as your eyes burned. “I didn’t… I just mean you don’t owe me an explanation.”

Reaching into your lap, Spencer took one of your hands in his, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You can always ask, it’s a fact that my job is dangerous,” he told you softly. “Getting hurt is an occupational hazard. It was never my intention to make you feel like you can’t ask me questions about… Why are you crying?”

You wiped furiously under your eyes at the tears that had flooded your eyes, “because you got shot.”

“You’re crying because I was shot five years ago?” He asked in bewilderment, his tone wasn’t belittling, he was genuinely surprised at your reasoning.

Nodding, you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to stop your tears. “I am a crier; I cry at everything. Please don’t read into this,” you pleaded, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Gently, Spencer pried your hands away from your face, “Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry, and I don’t know what to do.”

You shook your head, and your bleary eyes met his, “Really, Spence, I’m fine. I’m just a crier, okay? Sad, happy, mad, I cry.” You looked up at the ceiling light and sniffled, fanning your face in an attempt to dry it off.

He was staring at you, “You are quite possibly the sweetest human being I have ever met.” Spencer reached out and pulled you to him, “Look at me.”

Begrudgingly, you looked at him. “How many times have you been shot?”

“I’m not answering that until you stop crying,” he said, sweeping your hair behind your ears.

That answer did absolutely nothing to comfort you. Huffing, you pressed your lips into a thin white line, “I’m fine,” you whispered, “I’m just crying.”

Spencer smiled at you, “That is an oxymoron, and you know it.” His smile faded, “I’ve been shot three times.”

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you said, dropping your head to his shoulder.

He hummed softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “Once in the knee, once in the arm, and once in the neck. Please don’t cry.”

You nodded into him, “Yeah, you’re… you’re okay now, right?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” He asked softly, running his hands along your back.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, “I love you,” you whispered.

His movements falter for just a moment, “I love you too.”

Pulling away and wiping your eyes, “You should finish grading those papers,” you whispered to him, moving away.

Instead of letting you go, Spencer pulled you closer, “I’ll finish tomorrow. I want to be here with you now,” he responded softly. “Are we okay?”

“Your job scares me,” you answered candidly, “but we’re good. We’re great.”

He nodded self-assuredly, “I can’t change the job, but you could meet my team if you wanted to. Maybe meeting them would make you more comfortable with me going out into the field,” he offered. “And maybe I could…” his voice trailed off as he mumbled something else.

Tilting your head curiously, you hummed in an attempt to prod at him, “Maybe you could what?”

“I could make you my emergency contact. If that’s something you’re comfortable with,” he said. “I’ve never really had anyone to add, but I’m sure Emily wouldn’t mind.”

You smiled softly at him, grateful for every bit he let you in, “I would be honored. Just don’t have any emergencies.”

please like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot

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sv5hive · 3 months

Text

too little, too late. | lh44

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

content warning(s): angst, swearing, lewis is a bit of a dick in this sorry, unhappy ending because i love being miserable 🫶🏻

word count: 1,763

note: thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs on my first work a few days ago!! i didn't expect all the love so it is very, very appreciated :) this is a bit long so get comfy! and i also listened to you're losing me by taylor swift while writing so... yeah.

(psst! part 2 is here!)

(masterlist!)

memories from the night you two met flashed through your mind as you stood alone in the dim kitchen. the hangover from the next morning meant most of the night was a blur of shots, flashing lights and sweaty bodies but those deep brown eyes and endearing smile remained sharply in focus.

you stared at the two cold plates of dinner abandoned on the table and a bottle of wine nearing the end.

where had it all gone wrong?

six years.

six years of supporting him through everything.

and you loved being with lewis no matter what. seeing him in his element while racing was just as exciting for you as it was for him. but when would it end? you couldn't keep your life on pause forever.

back in 2017 when you first started dating you discussed a life of peace. a life with a big family and a nice house in england where your children could grow up normally like the both of you did. and you weren't foolish. you would never truly have peace when you were in a relationship with lewis hamilton, the face of formula 1. but you were willing to give up any sense of normality if it meant you could be with the love of your life.

or so you thought.

years passed as you watched all your friends get engaged and married, settle down and start their own families. at every bachelorette party, wedding reception, baby shower, family event you would be asked the same questions.

"when is he going to pop the question? you two have to get married! i bet he's planning to do it soon."

and every time you would have the same response.

"oh we're just taking it slow. he's pretty busy with racing and we both agreed that it wouldn't be fair for him to be away so much."

and you really did believe that at first.

either you didn't notice the stares of pity or you ignored them to convince yourself that everything was ok. it was only when you brought up the idea of finally having kids that you started doubting yourself.

"hey, lew. i've been thinking."

"hmm, yeah? what about." he replied absentmindedly, still searching netflix for a good movie to watch.

you passed him the bowl of popcorn to hold while you got under the blanket.

"i was thinking that we're finally ready to start a family."

he stilled. that was the last thing he thought you would bring up.

"lewis?"

"i want a family too, you know that. but i can't retire without getting that eighth championship. we're almost there. besides, i don't wanna leave you at home with a kid and not be there for every step of the way."

both of you knew at the rate mercedes was going, lewis would need a miracle and a half to win another title against red bull and their rocket ship.

he avoided your eyes and clearly thought that was the end of the matter so you accepted that when he was ready he would tell you. right?

you tossed and turned that night, unable to get the way he brushed off the topic so coldly out of your head. did you imagine it? that flicker of hesitance on his face? a pit of uneasiness settled at the bottom of your stomach as you desperately tried to reason with yourself. no. everything is fine. you had already waited a few years. what was a couple more?

so you tucked away your dreams of a family into the back of your mind for the time being and just enjoyed your relationship with lewis. every date felt like the first and you never wanted your love to end.

"lewis...this is too much!" as you stared in awe at the lone table in the middle of a completely empty restaurant.

rose petals led you two all the way from the entrance to a table with a single rose stood in a vase in the centre as candles flickered softly.

"for you? never."

staring at him in the golden light, you couldn't help but blush at his romantic gesture. he was making up for being away during a triple header and you hated to admit it but you could get used to this.

racing. you smiled at the thought of seeing lewis race. it was like seeing an artist produce a masterpiece every time pencil hit paper. he truly was an incredible sight to see.

you were there for each of his championships since 2017. you witnessed the joy of 2020 and the heartbreak of 2021. you were there, celebrating each win with him and consoling him after each loss, every time. you had fallen in love with the sport you once had no knowledge of just as hard as you had fallen for lewis. you knew how much of a toll each season took on him and you were always going to be there to pick him back up. his world became yours as you met his team and soon enough you were a familiar sight in the mercedes garage.

wasn't seven world championships enough for him?

you would never ask him to give up his career for you. and he would never ask that of you. but after years of waiting for the next step you couldn't help but wonder whether he still wanted that with you.

he was more than an hour late now. both of your schedules had been almost completely full for the past few months and you thought it would be nice to catch up over homemade dinner.

apparently he didn't think the same.

you hadn't bothered calling or texting. he always turned his phone off while at work anyways. as you finished off the last mouthful of wine the jingle of keys and the door unlocking brought you back out of your thoughts.

heavy footsteps trudged through the hallway.

"hey baby, i didn't think you would be up- what's all this?"

"dinner. i've been waiting for two hours now." you turned away from the counter to face him.

"shit. i am so sorry. i just got so caught up at work. we've been trying to improve the car to-"

"-to beat red bull. i know. i know."

"i promise i'll make it up to you. what about dinner next week? at that chinese restaurant you really like?" he walked towards you and went to wrap his arms around you before you pushed him away.

"stop, lewis. just stop. i can't keep doing this." you couldn't look him in the eyes.

a pin drop could be heard as lewis' blood ran cold.

"what?"

the change in atmosphere almost made you wish you had never said anything. almost.

"i can't keep waiting on you, lewis. i'm sorry."

"i said i would make it up to you." the look of pure confusion on his face would be amusing if it weren't for the fact that you were on the verge of tears.

"it's not just about dinner, lewis."

"then what is it about?"

"everything. god, we've been together for eight years and we're not even engaged and nowhere near starting a family. we have nothing to show for it. i knew i would have to wait and i was fine with that but i just can't anymore. this isn't what i imagined for us."

"so what? you're just going to leave? you know how i feel about having kids."

"and i get that, i do. but are you even planning on retiring in the near future? we're not getting any younger and i've been ready for a while now. i just don't think our ideas of our future are the same anymore."

"am i just meant to drop everything for you then? give it all up?"

"fuck, of course not, lewis. i would never ask you to do that. never. but sometimes it feels like you choose your career over me. and i know what it takes to be in formula 1 to win, i know you need to give it your full focus. i just, i need you to choose me for once. choose us."

"no, you don't know what it takes because if you did, you wouldn't be doing this to me right now. in the middle of the season."

you blinked. once. twice. you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"are you fucking kidding me, lewis? i'm ending our six year relationship and you're thinking of how it's going to effect your season?"

"yes! fuck, this is my whole life. it always has been and it always will be."

there it is. confirmation from the man himself. you stumbled on your words trying to convey your anger as your blood continuously boiled at his miserable attempt to fix his mess.

"have you ever even thought about how i've felt all these years? giving every excuse in the book to our families and friends about why we haven't taken the next step in our relationship and defending you when they said i was too good for you? you may get to avoid them by going to the races but i don't have that privilege."

your throat was dry at this point as you gasped for air and still, he was stood almost unbothered at the fact you were hopelessly clinging onto the last remaining threads of your relationship, willing him to fight back.

"so that's it? you're not going to stop me?"

tears pooled at your eyes as you realised this was really happening.

"well clearly you've thought this out pretty well."

you didn't know whether to laugh, cry or throw the empty bottle of wine at his head.

"you are fucking unbelievable, lewis. i thought this meant something to you but clearly not."

you stormed towards the door and opened it. you paused while silently hoping he would beg you to stay. hoping he would risk everything for you.

but it never came.

you wiped away your tears and tried to at least sound somewhat assertive despite your voice wavering.

"let me know when you're not at home and i'll come get my things."

you slammed the door shut with a resounding bang and walked away from the place and person you had called home for so long.

he sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. as he moved to get a beer out of the fridge his gaze fell on the calendar stuck to the front. there was a red heart around today's date with "anniversary!" written in your handwriting.

fuck.

note: yikes. i hope you aren't too sad because of me. any feedback is appreciated!! let me know what else you wanna see :)

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fic #lewis hamilton x fem!reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton angst #lh44 #lh44 x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic

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faefictions · 1 year

Text

Hospital Meet Cute

Eddie Munson x Reader

3.3k words

“What are you in for?”

They were the first words that had been spoken directly to you for what felt like hours. The bright white of the room and the smell of cleaner was overwhelming enough, but you were nursing a headache that was beginning to really worry you. In all honesty, you probably should have been rushed back to be examined the second you arrived to the hospital, but it had been well over an hour wait now with no end in sight.

You looked to your right, where the boy who had spoken was sitting and looking at you. He looked almost as bad as you, a bloody nose that you assumed was broken, a split lip, and a black eye just beginning to darken. You were almost too exhausted to answer him at all, but what you could muster came out much more rude than you had intended.

“Can’t be sure until they actually get me checked out,” you sighed, checking the time on the wall yet again. Only 15 seconds had passed since the last time you glanced, it was still nearing midnight, your bad day hadn’t yet ended.

“How long have you been here?”

You really looked at him this time. He was young, maybe around your age, give or take a couple years. His eyes were brown and his hair was long and curly, much longer than the men in your hometown. He was calm, calmer than you would have been if you looked like him. Hell, for all you knew, you did look like him, and you had been fighting off tears the entire drive here. But this guy was sitting there like he was a regular in the waiting room, and you sat there clueless to what town you were even in.

“I’m not sure when I got here, but its been more than an hour at least. Maybe two now.”

“They’re really off their game tonight,” he said, almost under his breath as he sat up to look behind the desk. You were staring to think maybe you were right about him being a regular here.

“I think you misunderstood my question though,” he smiled at you as he sat back down, “I’m looking for the dirt, the juicy stuff. The how more than the why.”

His smile was charming, but his happy go lucky demeanor was going to get old fast. You had a feeling that ignoring him wouldn’t do much though, and you could use a break from staring at the clock.

“Well it’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Hurts like a bitch though. Your nose doing ok?”

“Yeah, probably not broken. It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as last time I broke it, so we’re probably in the clear.”

“Glad to hear it,” you chuckled. You had never seen someone in such a good mood with blood actively dripping down their face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

“No, I usually respect the privacy of strangers that I met less than a minute ago.”

“I’m Eddie, now I’m not a stranger.”

“That’s not how that works,” you smiled incredulously.

“Sure it is! And if you tell me your name, you won’t be a stranger to me. And it’s been more than a minute now, so I think that means we’re in the clear.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“I get that a lot, but I didn’t hear an introduction anywhere in that insult.”

“I’m y/n.”

He extended a hand, and you hesitated for a second before offering your opposite hand as a compromise. It took him a second to decipher why you raised the wrong hand, but when he look down to your left wrist, he could see the bruising.

“So, you gonna ask now?”

“No,” you chuckled at his persistence.

“Damn. Well I was just going to tell you not to worry your pretty little head about it anyway so I guess it all worked out.”

“Wow. Are you always this charming?”

“You think I’m charming?” he smiled at you, and you half expected to find a missing tooth among his pearly whites, but his teeth seemed to remain one of the only parts of his body unscathed.

“You’re a bit of an ass. That’s about it.”

“And you’re just a ray of sunshine.”

“Well sorry for not being so chipper after…” you paused as you were about to reveal what your night had entailed, but shot a look at him before you could, “Damn, you almost got me.”

“That was a close one,” he smiled mischievously. You couldn’t help but admit that you really liked this guy. He was nicer than the people in your hometown, and the way he dressed was a beacon for someone like you.

You figured if you told him what had happened, it wouldn’t be as surprising to him as it would be to someone else. The kids in your town had been terrorizing you since kindergarten. The town freak since the ripe age of 5. Things had been getting progressively worse since your father died back in ’79. Now with no mother or father, you no longer had anything in common with the kids in your school. You thought the bullying would stop after high school, but you were wrong. You learned that leaving town altogether was your only hope.

That is what you had been doing. Your car was packed to the brim with your belongings, and you were set on your way for a small town about an hour away. Far enough for a new beginning, but close enough to not terrify you. Halfway through the drive, you noticed the car behind you getting a little too close for comfort. The sun had just set, but you still recognized the car. It belonged to the boyfriend of a girl that had led the crusade against you in high school, the one person you were most thankful to get away from. You knew if he was driving behind you, she was in the passenger seat, and their friends were probably packed into the back. Whatever they had planned wasn’t going to be good and you were starting to get nervous.

They started to tailgate you, and you did your best to keep your speed steady. If they rear ended you, that was their problem not yours. But your sentiment quickly changed when you realized that there was no one else on the road. If they forced you to stop, it would just be them against you, and you were worried that that was the plan all along. So you sped up.

You rode for a couple miles with them on your ass, speeding almost 20 over the limit, hoping to come across some traffic and a well lit stop to get them to pass. But before you could reach your safe haven, they had pulled up beside you. The last thing you remembered was her smiling at you before running into the side of your car.

They must have sped off, not even stopping to see if you were alive, because when you woke up you were alone on the road again. You could see the lights of a town maybe a mile up the road, and with your car now totaled, your only hope was to walk the rest of the way.

You hadn’t told the ladies behind the desk about the severity of your situation. You just told them you got into a little accident. You were regretting that now, knowing that if you told them you were ran off the road and had to walk to the hospital after coming to in a totaled car, you probably would have been seen by now.

“Do you want me to get you something cold for your arm? It looks like it’s staring to swell.”

You glanced down to your left arm again, and he was right. You still weren’t sure what was broken and what just ached. Your adrenaline was pumping during the walk here, but you didn’t feel an ounce of it anymore.

“That would be lovely, but where are you going to get something cold in the waiting room.”

“I know my way around,” he winked before getting up and leaving you for a moment. He returned a minute later with an ice cold can of soda.

“Come here often?” you chuckled as you took the can and rested against the tight skin on your wrist.

“Yeah, actually. I’m on a first name basis with a majority of the staff at this point. Especially the ones who work the weekends.”

“What, are you more accident prone on a Saturday?”

“Oh, darlin, you really think I bruised myself up this good? Nah, not even I’m that talented.”

“You really want to tell me what happened, don’t you?”

“Only so you’re trapped into telling me what happened to you. No offense, but you look like you’ve gone to Hell and back, and I would love for you to feed into my morbid curiosity.”

“Then you can keep your secrets,” you smirked at him, and glanced back to the clock. Somehow, 10 minutes had passed. You had begun to convince yourself that you had entered purgatory before you starting speaking to Eddie. It felt like time was never going to progress, and you were going to be stuck waiting for medical attention for the rest of eternity.

Eddie was about to speak up, but before he could open his smart ass mouth, the doors of the entrance slid open and he glanced behind him to see whose shoes were squeaking as they made their way to you.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. The smirk was wiped off your face when you turned to see a tall man in a police uniform approaching the two of you.

“Hopper, to what do I owe the pleasure,” Eddie tried to joke. To you, he was clearly nervous, but you thought he hid it well.

“I’m not here for you this time Munson. But better safe than sorry, you should stick around for a quick word after this,” The officer spoke gruffly, coming off like a disappointed father, “Are you y/n l/n?”

Your heart dropped. You had never been good with authority figures. Whether it be teacher, principles, security guards, or cops. You were always on the butt end of a bad situation, and you learned from a young age that not even finding an adult could save you. No one was ever on your side.

“Uhm, yeah,” you replied, barely above a whisper and unable to look back up at him.

“Thank god,” you heard him grumble under his breath, “Are you aware that your car is on fire a mile up the road?”

“Oh, it just wouldn’t start when I left it.”

Eddie was soaking up the conversation, looking between you and Hopper like it was a tennis match. It was the entertainment he had been hoping for to distract him from the third time he had been in a fight this month. This time he truly did have himself to blame, after saying something he really shouldn’t have to a man much bigger than him after a show at the Hideout. But as he began to piece the puzzle together, he was growing more concerned for you.

“You mind telling me what happened to your car? Or how you got here?,” Hopper’s head quickly swiveled to Eddie, “Did you drive her?”

Eddie just shook his head and glanced at you. He could see your eyes staring to water now, and something in him hated the sight. He reached out and grabbed your good hand, hoping to offer some kind of support or comfort, whichever you needed more.

“I walked.”

“And you were in the car when it flipped?”

Your head shot up, unable to believe what you were hearing.

“It flipped?”

To the best of your recollection, you just swerved off the side of the road. Honestly, you weren’t thinking straight, because there was no reason for you passing out and totaling your car if you had simply swerved.

“It did. There wasn’t anyone else in the car right?”

“No… Just everything I own.” you scoffed as the weight of the situation really sunk in. This brought a whole new meaning to your “new beginning” idea. There was no fresher start than one with nothing from your past.

“How long have you been here?”

You were too stuck in your own thoughts to process that another question had been asked, so Hopper looked to Eddie in hopes of an answer.

“She was here when I got here an hour and a half ago, but she said she doesn’t know how long she’s been here.”

“I’m going to go see if I can get someone to give her a once over. Keep her company.”

Eddie nodded and turned his attention back to you. You were obviously zoned out, and Eddie didn’t blame you, but he needed to reel you back in.

“So much for keeping your secrets,” he whispered, feigning maliciousness, as if he had personally asked Hopper to come down and tell him.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, even as your tears began to tip over your lower lids.

“I think you have to tell me what happened to you now, if I recall the rules correctly.”

“Oh, I just got beat up at a bar. Nothing near as exciting as what’s going on over here,” he chuckled as he gestured vaguely towards you.

It wasn’t until now that you realized that his hand was holding yours, but you were glad to receive the kind attention. It wasn’t something you were used to.

“So what were you running from?” he asked, the warmth and humor suddenly absent from his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“You had all your belongings packed into the back of your car, and I am 90% sure you aren’t from around here. So I can naturally assume you were running from something. Honestly I have a feeling I know the answer, but you know, never judge a book by its cover.”

“Maybe I want to hear your guess.”

“Town freak?”

“Excuse me?”

“Outcast? Pariah, reject, untouchable? I can go on for hours. I’m afraid I have an unfair advantage with all the synonyms.”

“And why’s that?”

“I’ve been called them all, sweetheart. You are speaking with the resident Freak of Hawkins, Indiana,” he pretended to bow from his seat.

“Guess it really does take one to know one, huh,” you offered a half hearted smile.

“So what was it? Weird music? Everyone hate your dad? One person just decide to make it their lives mission to make everyone hate you?”

“If I knew what it was, I would have changed it years ago. I think it’s just genetic though. But your guesses aren’t bad.”

You adored that Eddie could make you laugh even after something as terrible as this night. You almost didn’t want to get called back anymore, knowing that your time with him would likely come to an end, and you may never see him again.

When Hopper returned to let you know that your wait was almost over, you were almost disappointed.

“Y/n, I need to talk to you really quick though. Is that alright?” he asked, and he seemed much more gentle than he had when he arrived. You hated the pity, but it was much better than how you were used to being treated by the police. So you gave him a nod.

“Eddie, can you give us a minute?”

“It’s ok if he stays,” you cut in quickly, subconsciously squeezing Eddie’s hand harder.

“Ok, that’s fine with me,” Hopper gave you a smile before he pulled a chair closer to sit directly across from you. He pulled out a small notepad and a pen and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Y/n, I need to know what you remember from before your car flipped. If you remember anything at all.”

“Why?”

“There are… There are some marks on the drivers side of the car that suggest you were hit. I just want to put the pieces together before we start a man hunt, just in case I’m wrong in thinking someone ran you off the road.”

“It’s ok, there’s no need to look for them. I don’t want to press charges or anything.”

Your heart began to pick up thinking about the retaliation you might receive from bringing legal charges agains them. You were trying to get away, the last thing you needed was a case to tie you to them.

Hopper’s head quirked in curiosity, and he squinted his eyes at you before asking, “Y/n, do you know who did this?”

“Well, yeah, but like I said, it’s…It’s fine.”

“Can we have a second Hop?” Eddie asked gently, and Hopper nodded before crossing the room to allow you two to speak.

“The people you were running from, are they the ones that did this?”

“Eddie, you don’t get it.”

“No, I do, remember? I need you to take a deep breath, ok?”

It took you a second to realize how hard you were squeezing his hand and how quickly your heart was beating. So you took his advice and took a few deep breaths before you looked for him to continue.

“I can tell you’re scared. But, y/n, this isn’t school yard bullying. They could have killed you. And it doesn’t sound like they stopped to see if you were alive. They deserve to be locked up for that, you know that right?”

“But they won’t.”

“Cops don’t like you back home?”

You just shook your head.

“Well look, you met Hopper over there,” he gestured over his shoulder and waiting for you to nod before continuing, “Well he’s different. I promise. He will make sure those bastards burn for what they did. He doesn’t care if their daddy is mayor, he will make sure they do the time the deserve ok?”

“How do you know it was more than one person?”

“Those kind of people always travel in packs.”

“If I tell him who it was…” you paused to organize your thoughts into a coherent sentence as your mind raced, “How do you know they won’t just find me and try again?”

Eddie gently reached up grab your cheeks and got closer to your face, “I swear they won’t lay another finger on you. And if you decide to stick around Hawkins, I can assure you no one else will either.”

“You offering to be my body guard?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. He could tell you were calming down already.

“By the looks of you, I don’t think you’re cut out for that line of work.”

“Shush,” he laughed, “So what do you say, can I call Hop back over?”

You nodded, and a minute later, Hopper was out the door and ready to bring justice to the people who had been making your existence unbearable for your whole life. It wasn’t much longer before a nurse rushed out and apologized for the long wait to both of you and called you both back. Your heart dropped when you realized you may not see Eddie again, and he could sense your reluctance to let his hand go.

“Don’t worry, I already memorized your full name like the good freak I am, and I will be back to visit you later.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. The best thing about the hospital here in the lovely town of Hawkins, Indiana, is that our visiting hours are 24/7. I can come annoy you for as long as I want,” he smirked at you, “I just need to run home and grab my copy of Lord of the Rings after they check out my nose. I think you’ll really like it.”

“With this headache, I don’t think I’m going to like reading anything.”

“Oh don’t worry, I wasn’t going to let you lay a finger on it. I like doing the voices.”

You both laughed, and continued to hold hands until it was absolutely necessary for you to part ways.

“See you soon,” Eddie smiled down at you before following a different nurse to a room down the hall.

“See you soon.”

@embrace-themagic @fanficparker @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3@eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

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kamaluhkhan · 12 days

Text

GUILTY AS SIN?

GLUTTONY — part vi of we'll write sins like tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 3k summary: after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies. warnings: set during the last olympian so spoilers for the entire pjo book series; luke + reader get drunk; mention of death + war + reader has some survivor's guilt; smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, kinda sub!luke, brief allusion to knife kink — 18 + MDNI) + angst author's note: not sure how i feel ab this one but i've been workshopping it for weeks so i think her time has come !! also maybe got a bit too deep into book lore oops. also also ive been listening to this song an outrageous amount and i hope i did it justice ANYWAYS lmk what y'all think, thanks sm for reading ♥

♪ "guilty as sin?" by taylor swift

you’re well aware of how suspicious this looks, rendezvousing with the enemy at a sleazy dive bar in the heart of the city.

he walks in, and your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation. his familiar deep brown eyes are now striking gold, and a streak of gray is woven through his signature dark curls — evidence of the battles you've fought, on opposite sides, and an ominous reminder of a war that has yet to be over.

as he casually orders himself a drink and one for you, you keep a hand on your concealed dagger. it’s become an instinct of yours, whenever he’s around.

“i didn’t come here to fight.” he assures, catching the glint of your blade.

“and what about…..” you gesture broadly at him.

“we’re not entirely synched yet, so it gives him a break whenever i’m in full control,” he explains as though reciting from a textbook (something like how to betray your loved ones and overthrow the olympians 101). “it’s only me tonight. i swear on the river styx.”

a shiver passes through you.

about a year ago, luke tracked you down in new york. apparently, kronos was pushing him to do something extreme, and luke felt conflicted.

you thought it had to be some sort of cruel joke, because you could not think of anything more extreme than what luke had already done in facilitating a war between gods and titans. you had no patience for his crocodile tears, not after he played you so well the first time.

you told him as much, then told him to fuck off.

to be fair, you didn’t know that would lead to him bathing in the river styx and becoming a vessel for the titan lord himself.

luke wears the curse of achilles well: all strong muscles and sharp angles, his tan skin glowing ever-so slightly, and his body devoid of any fresh cuts or bruises despite surviving an explosion just a few days prior.

“so….what? you’re the pilot whenever kronos needs to take a really long nap?”

“i’d say timeshare is the closest way to describe it.”

“50/50 ownership?”

“more like 90/10.”

you scoff. “sounds like a scam.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. it reminds you so much of old times, his boyish charm peeking through whenever a camper would try to pull a prank on him, and then complain when he’d beat them to the punch.

“it’s just me,” he repeats, but you didn’t need any more confirmation.

you know deep in your gut, from that mischievous smirk alone: it’s not the lord of time, but luke castellan next to you.

the bar is surprisingly busy for a weeknight. there’s a game being shown on TV, and people wearing sports jerseys occasionally groan or cheer or come to the counter to order another pint for their table while keeping their eyes glued to the screen. the jukebox in the corner plays music from the 70s and 80s as a group of friends starts to dance, tipsy after a deadly combination of jello shots and sangria.

for the first few drinks, you and luke are silent, letting these sounds of regular human existence fill the space between you. you half-expect him to ask about law school admissions, or the new tattoo you got on your upper thigh, or your band’s latest show — all fragments of your own mundane mortal life used to distract yourself from demigod realities.

he doesn’t, though. luke just stares at the hockey game, one you know for a fact he doesn’t care about because the rangers aren’t playing, as he sips his old-fashioned like he has all the time in the world.

“did you wanna meet so we could just sit here in silence or….”

when you had agreed to this meeting, you had a clear goal in mind: find out who the spy is and clear your name.

it might be too much rum or the crushing weight of recent events, but you no longer have the energy nor the drive to be strategic or even cautious around luke. now, you’re looking for a cure to your bone deep boredom and heartache.

"no. i’m here because….” he falters and runs a hand through his hair. “look, i heard about what happened at camp. and, with beck —”

“dying?” you finish, taking one last gulp of your drink. all the rage, resentment and grief you’ve been feeling has been lodged in your throat. you’d hope each sip of your dark and stormy would burn through it, but instead it comes tumbling from your lips.

“honestly, beck would probably still be alive if you didn’t join the dark side. i guess you’re kinda leading the dark side now, aren’t you luke? what’s that like?”

luke polishes off his drink, too, his cheeks flushed. he gestures at the bartender for a third round of drinks. or is it fourth?

“don’t be a dick,” luke sighs once a replenished glass is placed in front of him. “i obviously never wanted to hurt you — any of you.”

if you were of sober mind, maybe you’d point out that it’s too late; that luke already hurt all of you the minute he decided to side with kronos.

“i know i did, though,” he adds after swallowing a mouthful of his drink.

you know that if luke was of sober mind, he would never have admitted that. he seems to know better than to apologize though, hopefully recognizing that the damage has already been done.

it’s not like your hands aren’t bloody, too.

“it was supposed to be me, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “i was supposed to go with percy on the mission, but beck offered to go instead because he thought — he knew — that it would….it would be hard for me to see…. you.”

luke pauses and turns away from you. “you couldn’t have known what would happen.” his voice wavers, too. “beckendorf was looking out for you — it’s what he does. did.”

“i couldn’t even go to the funeral,” you continue. “i feel like i didn’t really get to say goodbye, you know?”

“yeah,” luke hums sorrowfully. “mourning someone who fought for the gods isn’t really allowed where i am.”

again, you could point out the irony in what he’s saying. given everything he’s done, luke dug his own grave and clearly some for his friends, too.

tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. the reality is that one of your best friends died because you couldn’t handle an encounter with your ex-boyfriend, the one you’re currently sitting beside.

you might not have done what they accused you of, but you’re nowhere near innocent. who were you to give yourself permission to cry?

in the dim neon light, you notice a tear slide down luke’s cheek before he wipes it away just as fast.

he clears his throat. “to charles beckendorf: a hero by any other name.”

you tap your glass against luke’s, and you both drink in honor of your lost friend. you drink to everyone and everything you’ve lost, too.

beckendorf is dead; chris has lost his mind; clarisse might start her own war with the apollo cabin over a flying chariot; and ever since the princess andromeda mission went terribly wrong, silena can’t go one minute without bursting into tears.

it was too easy for everything to fall apart, as though this was always what the fates had in store for you — the next generation of greek tragedies.

thankfully, there always comes a break in the tragedy, and it seems to be now: you and luke, getting drunk off whiskey and rum and old memories.

you remember countless times sneaking out to the beach after curfew, mixing store-brand soda with cheap alcohol smuggled into camp by luke’s half-brothers; hot summer nights spent fantasizing about existence outside of camp and returning to your head counselor duties in the morning with chiron and mr. d none the wiser. once you started dating, it became routine for the two of you to wander away from the group for some privacy, somewhere far enough away so that no one could hear you scream luke’s name.

those memories still make your skin flush, even as you’re here drinking cocktails at a bar in the city, with one friend gone to elysium and everyone else calling you a traitor.

“i can’t believe you don’t remember that night! mr. d caught a few senior campers getting drunk in his office? they stole a super expensive bottle of wine, threw up all over the carpet, and had to spend the rest of the night cleaning it?”

you continue shaking your head. you tip your glass back to capture the last drops of amber liquid before confessing:

“what i remember is spending the whole night jealous of malcolm pace because he got to slow dance with you.”

luke lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, then he’s silent for a few moments.

“i love this song,” luke muses, words blurring together. “i haven’t heard it in a while.” he finishes his drink and sets the glass down, holding his hand out to you.

your brain is a bit foggy from all the alcohol, so it takes you a few seconds to realize what he’s asking.

“you wanna dance?”

“yeah,” he answers. “make up for lost time.”

it’s not until you feel luke’s chest pressed against yours, his hands firmly on your waist, that you register what song is currently playing.

“downtown lights” by the blue nile — luke had spent so long trying to find the right song for your first time together.

you told him not to worry, teased him a bit for planning every detail so meticulously, but deep down, your heart swelled with how much he cared.

the empty hermes cabin during capture-the-flag, both of you pretending to be too injured from sparring practice to play. luke’s sweaty hands fumbling with the condom, you having to step in and rip the wrapper with your teeth. clothes being haphazardly thrown on so you could run back to the infirmary before anyone noticed. silent vows to do it again, and again, and again.

the more time spent exploring and experimenting, the more you got the rhythm of each other’s bodies, knew how to make the other squirm and throw their head back in pleasure — and that didn’t just go away when luke joined kronos’ army.

even when your loyalties were more clear, your consciousness was plagued with visions of you and luke together, ones that left your sheets burning, more than the blazing summer heat. you confided in silena about these once, and she assured you that there is no such thing as bad thoughts.

she did warn you, though: it’s when you indulge in these fantasies that they risk becoming fatal.

now, thinking back and forth between memories with luke and the events of this past very shitty week, you realize that maybe that’s why you’re here.

despite everything you’ve done, you supposedly betrayed people you consistently fight beside, fight for; you were thrown out of a place you once considered home and told never to come back.

you were doomed from the start — a daughter of nemesis, assumed to be wicked and revenge-seeking since birth.

well, if they’re going to crucify you anyway…..

once the song ends, you ask:

“you wanna go outside for a smoke?”

your hands start playing with the curls at the base of luke’s neck, hinting at what you were hoping comes next.

luke licks his lips, gold eyes darker than before.

“guess you’re itching to put that celestial bronze to good use,” he says lowly.

“only if you ask nicely,” you drawl.

luke blushes.

you pull away from him, start walking towards the back exit, and pray that he follows you.

—

this is why meeting with you was dangerous: there’s no one else in the world – god, titan, or otherwise – luke castellan would get on his knees for, let alone in the filthy alley behind a bar.

technically, kronos sent luke here to recruit you.

the scythe charm — the one used to communicate with silena — sits heavy in his pocket. it’s part of the reason why you were exiled from camp, why your friends don’t look at you the same way. why you can’t ever go back home, not really.

luke imagines you might resent those who threw you out of camp, but you would never betray them. he knew that you weren’t likely to join kronos’ army.

he’s thankful that, at the very least, you still have a penchant for breaking some rules.

the two of you are a tangled mess of teeth and tongue. luke tastes the spiciness of ginger beer and rum, mixed with sweetness from the clove cigarette you just smoked. you lock one leg around luke’s hip, and the brief glimpse of your lacy black underwear has him throbbing. one of your hands slips underneath his shirt to trace the contours of his abdomen. luke’s breath hitches when your hand reaches down even further.

“wait –” you pause your actions to let luke finish his sentence, and already he regrets voicing his hollow concern. “i….i probably should not be doing this.”

“me neither,” you concede, breathing steadily.“but, they already think i’m guilty.” with your other hand, your thumb dances over his kiss-swollen lips and luke feels something ignite in the pit of his stomach. “maybe i am, with how much i think about you.”

luke knows what’s at stake for him, if anyone finds out, but in a booze-soaked haze and with you looking at him like that, he can’t seem to care.

it’s coming back to him now: that endless cycle of waking up sticky and drenched in sweat over dreams of screaming your name and going about his day like it wasn’t a paradox to be leading kronos’ army and still wanting someone aligned with the enemy to devour him.

when he agreed, however reluctantly, to be a vessel for kronos, luke had to lock those desires inside a vault deep inside his mind.

this might very well be luke’s last chance to satisfy his cravings, once and for all. tonight, he’s in full control of his body and mind.

he’ll happily yield his power to you.

soon enough, your teeth gnaw on his top lip as luke messily thrusts into you, your underwear hastily pushed to the side. he tries to savor every part of this, of you — the heel of your combat boot digging into his back; the sting of your nails where you grip him; the familiar scent of your skin, sickly sweet cherries and burnt vanilla; the hoarseness of your voice, encouraging him to go faster, harder. following your orders, luke wraps both of your legs around his waist and digs his fingers further into your hips to keep them secure.

it’s a religious experience, watching you throw your head back against the brick wall as your orgasm crashes through you. luke follows a few seconds later, pulling out just in time to paint the inside of your thighs with his cum.

luke grins as he watches you come down from your high, eyes closed, chest heaving, neck engraved with the outline of his teeth.

“sorry, didn’t mean to give you a concussion.”

you open your eyes just to roll them at luke, who’s tucking himself back into his jeans.

“you’re such an asshole,” you jest through labored breaths, registering his shit-eating grin. you fix the hem of your leather skirt and pout dramatically. “and you had to leave a mess behind, didn’t you?”

without another word, luke kneels in front of you.

he leans his head back to admire how your lips curl into a bemused smile at his antics. your fingers press into his pulse point, no doubt feeling how reckless his heartbeat becomes underneath you. once more, your thumb prods at his lips; this time luke grants access, the cold metal of your ring burning on his tongue.

“is this how you pledged loyalty to your titan king?” you taunt.

luke shakes his head, still sucking your digit.

he did have to bow, but not like this. the only entity he’d worship this desperately is you.

“i’m honored,” you coo. luke bites back a whimper when you remove your thumb from his mouth, instead tracing the scar on his face, up his cheekbone. “i have to say though: i miss your brown eyes, pretty boy.”

his whole body is on fire with how you touch him, but your passing observation feels like a knife to the gut. wanting to be good for you, to prove he’s still your pretty boy, luke pushes up the bottom of your skirt so it bunches around your waist.

“luke!” you attempt to scold, concealing a moan when his teeth graze your clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. “someone might see.”

“it’ll be fine, baby,” he assures. “is this new?” luke is mesmerized by the fresh ink on your thigh, fingers trailing over swirling black lines.

you hum, a goddess gazing down on her disciple. “do you like it?”

luke nods. he replaces his fingers with his tongue, journeying across your skin, tasting salty sweat mixed with his cum drying between your legs. he hears your whimpers for more. he complies and plunges two fingers beneath the lace until you reach your peak. luke places one last kiss to your core, before getting up again.

you crash your lips onto his, and you’re kissing him the way you did back when you really loved him, chaotic and feverish. your fingers snake through his curls, and you tug on them just enough to make luke’s head spin.

you’re somehow more intoxicating than however many drinks he downed earlier.

he sees something simmering behind your eyes, when you ask if he wants to come back to your apartment. you both know you shouldn’t, but honestly — in the grand scheme of things, what’s one more sin?as the two of you are tangled beneath your bedsheets, you decide to frame it differently, as a mutual vow: maybe just one more time will satisfy this hunger.

#we've only got two sins left idk how this happened....#thank y'all sm for reading!!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan series #luke castellan x nemesis!reader #pjo fanfic #saf writes

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fairycheol · 4 months

Text

Always An Angel

luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader

cw:fluff, kissing, mentions of injury, teeny tiny angst. death/murder

It had been exactly three days since Luke Castellan had seen you, his girlfriend of three years, around camp.

The first day of your “disappearance” he simply chopped it down to you being busy taking care of the camp infirmary.

By the time day two rolled around, he began to worry, and unfortunately for him the Apollo campers were no help. Delivering cryptic responses every-time Luke asked where you were, practically avoiding his question.

He began to panic, did you leave camp with no goodbye?, were you secretly seeing someone else behind his back? His mind was running a hundred miles an hour.

On day three he took it upon himself to set out looking you. Leaving his campers with Clarisse he marched through every part of camp before arriving at the infirmary.

He hadn’t tried approaching the building earlier because Mr.D had placed a “do not enter” sign on the front.

Oh my gods, had Mr.D killed her?!?

Shaking the crazy thought from his head he finally opened the door to take a peak inside expecting to find a dead body on the ground but to his surprise it was something entirely different.

Sleeping on one of the beds was a 7 year old boy and hunched over asleep in a nearby chair was you, bow and arrow held limply in your hands.

Luke crept forward into the room when he stepped onto an extra creaky floorboard. The sound had succeeded in waking you up with a fright.

As a daughter of Apollo, you were gentle but you were also a fighter. Which would explain why Luke’s shirt was now pinned to the door with an arrow.

Now fully conscious you came to the realization that you’d just shot an arrow… at your boyfriend

“Luke!” you hissed at him

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I could’ve seriously hurt you!” Walking across the room you ripped the arrow off the door and placed it back in your quill.

“I-I was just coming to check on you, I haven’t seen you in three days.” Luke gave you the saddest puppy dog eyes imaginable. Gods was it impossible to get mad at him.

“Aw, you were worried about me?” Luke passed on a smile as you grabbed his face in between your hands,

“Wait no, i’m still mad at you for sneaking up on me!” Taking a step back you let out an angry huff, but the facade had melted almost instantly when Luke pulled you in by the waist and gave you one very very long kiss.

“I’m sorry for scaring you I just need to make sure you were okay. Your campers were pulling every excuse out of the book to get away from me.” Luke explained twisting an eyebrow up in mock suspicion. With a sigh you began to run your hands up and down his chest, feeling his heart race faster with every movement you made.

“I was gonna tell you were I was but he” you pointed at the young boy still fast asleep, “would wake up in tears every-time I tried leaving his side. He didn’t wake up this time cause I asked a daughter of Hypnos to help me get him to sleep comfortably.”

That’s right. The young boy laying in the infirmary had arrived three days ago. He was chased up the hill of camp half blood by a vicious three headed hell hound. When he got to camp he was shaken up and bleeding heavily. The only person able to calm him down was you.

“That doesn’t really explain you being cooped up in here with him.” Luke huffed putting his hands on his waist.

“Yeah well, after I got his stitches done and over with he begged me to stay in here. Said he could still feel the monsters chasing him.” You turn to look at him with such a saddened gaze that had him remembering of your arrival at camp and the night terrors you’d faced yourself.

“You know better than anyone Luke… I couldn’t leave him feeling like he was alone.” He knew exactly what you meant, and he couldn’t even be upset about it.

A pair of warm hands reached up to gently get a hold of your face, turning you to face him. He gave a smile that read a thousand praises.

Luke takes your moment of silence to give you one more kiss, the gesture sets off a million butterflies in your stomach.

“How did I get so lucky with someone like you” Luke brushes a strand of hair from your face, taking a moment to admire you.

His Angel in disguise.

the ending was lowkey rushed cause i didn’t know what to write 😭

hope y’all enjoyed it tho 🫶🏻

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan #pjo x reader

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goldsbitch · 5 months

Text

That one Christmas flight

summary: Y/N and Lando Norris are seated next to each other on a long flight. Innocent little Christmas tradition that Y/N does every year brings them just a little too close.

warnings: fluff, one-shot (whops a lie!), meet cute

Christmas. Y/N felt like an alien walking among people. It was impossible to avoid it. It was present in songs, in decoration, in fashion, online and on the news. Everywhere.

It's not like she was a grinch or anything. Nor was it because of some tragic incident causing trauma. Just pure fatigue from all the logistics and travel connected, which most kids of divorced parents faced every year.

Flying from Japan back to England, from her mother to her father, was a chore that seemed unavoidable. Her mother was kind enough to splurge on first class ticket for her, which her fancy Tokio job allowed. Ever since fours years ago, she continued a tradition that was introduced to her by a fellow Christmas traveller - the most stylish sassy French woman, who often spend the holidays on a plane. She would get herself and who ever was sitting next to her a glass of champagne and chat them up. Y/N has never laughed so much in her life like she did when she met this woman - so she took the tradition as her own.

Lando's plan wasn't to be on a flight from Japan to London on the 24th of December. He had so little time with his family and friends that this secret work trip to the Honda factory was really pushing him into staying with McLaren for the following years and not switching to a different team. This whole situation was like fuel for his current headache.

Y/N second guessed her tradition when a super gorgeous looking boy, who seemed to want anything but to be bothered, was sat next to her. She was used to having older people sitting next to her. Anyway, tradition is a tradition, so she eventually got up to order the classic. She nearly turned back at the thought that this guy was giving off some serious "I'm a dick" vibes, he had barely acknowledged her since she sat down. Luckily, she ignored this feeling.

When a glass of champagne appeared before Lando, he was sure it was a mistake.

"Well, to Christmas," his neighbor toasted. While he thought that she was a rather good looking girl, he was in no mood for a fangirl.

"I'm very sorry, um...I'll be happy to take a photo with you or something, but I am not in the best mood for a interaction with a fan."

She gave him a baffled look.

He continued. "Look, I'll be more than happy to sign anything. Or a photo, just as long you keep between un on which flight you saw me."

Y/N put her glass down, this was a first one.

"First of all, sorry for invading your private time. I have this stupid tradition of having a glass with whomever I'm destined to spend this Christmas flight. Guess I was mistaken. Second of all, I have no fucking idea who you are. So, calm down." She downed half of her glass. Of course this stupid year would include an asshole like this. Oh well.

Lando was confused for a moment and immediately after that he felt like an idiot.

"Apologies," he slowly replied, somewhat baffled. "I thought you were a fan and I'm just not in the mood for that." Y/N rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her champagne. "I'm Lando, by the way."

"Is that a stage name?"

"No, " he laghed. "I think it was a random decision of my mom."

"Interesting. Y/N," she introduced herself, without looking at him.

There was a weird tension in the air. Lando was determined to break it. Y/N was currently casually offended.

"Let me get you another one so that we can have a toast."

"Great, getting drunk is also an option. Hate flying sober," she joked.

Another glass was brought by a smiling flight attendant.

"So, how does this work?" Lando asked. Y/N was a person easily annoyed, however as quickly this came it also ended.

"Fine. There are rules, btw."

"Of course there are."

"Ehm, ehm, " she cleared her throat. "So, this tradition was started by Madame Tatanova and from now on, if you find yourself on a plane on 24th or 25th of December, you need to toast with your fellow neighbor passenger and answer the following: why and for how long-"

"I will have to write this down, I have a memory of a dead chicken."

"-I'm not finished! And then you follow up by your biggest regret and one thing nobody knows. The purpose of this is to gain or pass on wisdom and use the opportunity you'd normally miss by blasting up your headphones." She's done this for four times now, still the introduction was missing the "Madame Tatanova magic". Maybe one day.

"Ok..." Lando was not following yet, but he was keen on doing so. She raised her glasses, as did he.

"Cheers, to Christmas flights."

"Cheers, " he replied and they both sipped their champagne. "Wait, I have a question - what would you do if I did not speak English? Or if I was deaf?"

Lando was being his cheeky self and Y/N was not having it. She answered the question with a look.

"Got it! Anyway...what was the question?"

"Why."

"Why? Why is the sky dark or....?"

"Why are you on this plane."

"I'm trying to get to London from Tokio."

"I swear to god, I will ask to be seated somewhere else, Orlando."

"Lando, actually."

"If you say so..."

"Huuh, I'm going back from a work trip. And since you claim not to know me, I can probably tell you more than I should. Um, imagine I am in a band, right? I'm singing for a band and every few years they change their lead singer, one of the two actually, and I'm a the lead singer who might go to a different band now. But it's not clear yet and super secret actually. So, please keep it to yourself." Lando felt like someone who has just discovered speech and this was the first time he was using it. "Does that make any sort of sense?"

"Sort of I think. So you're cheating on your band?"

"Uhh, I'd say checking out options."

"Remind me never to date guys like you," she joked and immediately regretted that. Y/N was not good at flirting and did not want to appear creepy.

Lando passed on this comment, still not sure if he could trust this girl. "So, what about you? Why?"

"The curse of the divorced parents. One lives in London, the other one in Japan and I'm a package they pass each year," she said rather bitterly.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. I get to see mom twice a year and it's all always so planned and predictable. I would kill for spontaneity."

"Take me with you next time, I'm sure she'll be surprised." "Yes, she is a big fan of British guys, that's why she divorced one!"

"Great, happy to follow that route!"

Y/N started to relax a bit. This could be good, actually. "Ok, so now. For long are you staying in London, Lando?"

"Only few weeks. Then our music season starts. "

"Yeah, the one with all the singing, of course."

"Yeeah."

Y/N laughed a bit. He was suprisingly easy to talk to.

"So, how long?"

"A week. Then I'm off to Bologna."

"Uuuh, fancy that!"

"Yeah, I'm studying history there."

"Bologna is the one with the old university?" he asked, pretending he has never heard of that.

"No, not really, they just opened. Last year we did not have chairs, because the shipment got delayed," she replied with a dry tone.

"One does always study better while standing. I believe it was Socrates, who said it."

"Oh, yes. They teach you this at the singing music school?"

"Exactly. We were never allowed to sit."

They continued to chat all the way through the airplane dinner, getting few more glasses of champagne during that. Their laughter was interrupted by a flight attendant, who acted on a complaint from a fellow passenger. They both fell asleep watching a movie. Y/N woke up few times in the night and observed the boy next to her. Knowing this was the best Christmas plane encounter she ever had. Lando woke up as well, feeling strangely happy about the fact she was resting her head on his shoulder.

"Wait." Lando stopped her at the entrance to customs hall and pulled them both behind a column, so that they could not be seem by bystanders.

"Yes?" she turned to him.

"This might be weird, but can I kiss you?" Y/N looked at the boy in a hoodie standing in front of her, cheeky guy suddenly appearing nervous. He was absolutely gorgeous. She hated the fact he was random guy on a plane to London and not to Bologna.

"Yes. Must be midnight somewhere. So it could be like a New Years thing."

"Yeah. Just an airport thing." With that he kissed her. Just two young people having a little moment of silence. His kiss was a light slow brush on the lips. He cupped her cheek and her hand brushed through his curly hair. First kiss usually does not take long. For a person passing by, this would appear like kiss these two shared a thousand times before.

When they eventually parted, it all seemed a bit surreal.

"We never got to the second part of your Christmas interview," Lando commented.

"Well. Let's say that the one thing nobody knows is that I just kissed a random guy from the plane. And that my biggest regret is that we will never see each other again." For the first time, she was this bluntly honest with somebody who had just kissed her for the first time. It felt intoxicating.

Lando smiled. "See, I knew we had something in common."

Lando was usually not so open with his crushes, if he could even put her in that category.

"Don't worry. I won't search for you online or anything. I want to keep the mystery of Lando alive."

He kissed her once more, before they parted.

Their hearts felt a little more heavier than usual on midnight that New Years Eve. Both standing surrounded by their favorite people, yet with the one they would wish to kiss being impossibly far away.

part 2

_________________________

@superlegend216

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris angst #meet cute #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #oneshot fanfiction #ln4 x reader #That one Christmas flight

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 5 months

Text

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: established relationship, Eddie is an emotionally constipated lil guy who's scared of his own feelings, adorable nervous energy, so much fluff its gross

AN: BRUV i wrote this in about a half hour ago and now its up and i BARELY edited this so please be gentle! I love you guys, have the best weekend!

I can’t fucking say it.

Eddie has been pacing back and forth in his room for the past 45 fucking minutes.

He’s tried saying it looking in the mirror, looking at his feet, hell, he even tried staring out the fucking window.

Nothing.

He can think it—that’s the easy part. Those three little words play in his head like a god damned broken record.

When he’s not around you, he’s thinking it. When he’s just left you, or on his way to you, he can feel it on the tip of his tongue.

Oh, but when he’s with you? It’s like a big flashing neon fucking sign buzzing in his brain:

EDDIE MUNSON LOVES HIS GIRL.

It should be easy, no? To look you into your dreamy eyes and tell you.

Let’s try this again.

Eddie bounced back and forth on each foot, shaking the nerves from his hands. “C’mon, Munson. Don’t be a chicken shit…”

He let out a few quick breaths. “Okay, okay…”

Eddie’s brain is screaming at him. Telling him to say the fucking words he’s been thinking and feeling for the past 4 months.

Really the past 3 years he’s knowns you, but that’s neither here nor there.

He feels out of breath just sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

“I can’t fucking say it, holy hell.” Eddie scrubs his face, feeling like a complete coward.

Always running from what scares him.

He heard the door of the trailer open, and the familiar chime of your keychain follow.

“Eds? I’m back! and I got you a surprise!”

Whatever nerves he was feeling vanished. You’re the most calming presence Eddie’s ever met. Like…a warm blanket. A cup of tea on a rainy day. Lover's lake, right as the sun was starting to rise.

Magical. Healing. Golden.

You were everything to him, and he couldn’t even fucking tell you.

“Babe?” You called again, looking for him.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, in here, sweetheart.” He stands quickly. Drying his sweaty palms on his pants.

You round the corner into his room, and Eddie swears you get more beautiful every time he sees you. You smile at him, “Hey, handsome.”

“There’s my pretty girl.” He says without a second thought. “You and Buckley have fun at the mall?”

Eddie pulls you into him completely, and you melt. He’s so sturdy and strong but so, so gentle with you. You inhale him, he inhales you.

Home.

“I did, Robin keeps me from flying too close to the sun,” you laugh. “I did, however, get you a little something.”

Eddie pulls back, looking at you. “What? Why?”

You’re beaming up at him, “‘Cause I love you, ya silly goose.” You bend down, and grab the bag at your feet. “Here, opening it!”

Eddie doesn’t even have time to process how easily you’d say it.

You’ve never once pressured him—never made a big thing about saying it. It came with no strings when you said it the first time.

You’d spent the day with him, doing nothing particularly important. These were Eddie’s favorite. It’s just him and his girl, no sharing you with Robin or Dustin or any of those other gremlins.

You had an early shift the next day, so you kissed him goodbye, and grabbed your bag. Eddie kissed you once for every step you took toward the door.

“Baby, nooooo,” he whined. “I’ll let you sleep, sweetheart. No funny business, scouts honor.”

You laughed, “Oh, you were Boy Scout?”

Eddie shifted his feet, “I could’ve been.”

You kissed him deeply at the front door, “I’ll be back before you know it."

“Fine, fine,” he said dramatically. “I’ll just be here…alone…wallowing in my sorrows.” Eddie flopped back and fell backwards over the couch.

Your giggle echoed off the walls of the trailer. “I love you! I’ll see you in the morning!”

The door shut behind you, and Eddie shot up like a rocket, and stiff as a board.

You love him.

You said you loved him.

And he didn’t say it back.

It’s haunted him since.

Eddie took the bag from your hands, and pulled you gently to follow him. You sat down together on the edge of his bed.

You spoke to him as he opened it, “Okay, if you don’t like them, just be nice because it took me 40 minutes to decide between two sets and this one spoke to me and I wanted—“

“Honey, honey.” Eddie chuckled. “Take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s perfect." He tapped your nose gently, "‘Cause it’s from you.”

Eddie unwrapped the tissue paper, revealing a black acrylic case. He removed the lid, and his jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Holy shit, baby.”

Inside the case, was a brand new set of black onyx and ruby red DND dice.

“You like ‘em? Robin almost left me in the store because I just couldn’t decide—“

Eddie put the dice down quickly, grabbed your cheek, and kissed you tenderly.

He brought his other hand to your face as well, cupping it gently as his mouth moved over yours

When he was done with your mouth, Eddie kissed your nose, your cheeks, your eyes, your chin, any part of you he deemed not smothered in affection enough.

His lips had barely left your skin before he spoke, “I love you. God, I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Your smile—it could light up the whole town.

“Y-Yeah?” You asked hopefully, “You do?”

Eddie nodded, his hair tickling you cheeks. “I really, really do, baby. I love you. Thank you for thinking of me. For taking the time to do something that I never woulda done for myself. Thank you for just…” Eddie sighed, kissing your forehead. “Just for being mine. Christ, I’m so lucky.”

It wasn't about the gift.

Eddie had it all when he had you, and now he's going to make sure you know it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things

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vacayisland · 6 months

Note

Hiii I saw that you were still doing requests so I was wondering if you could do a John Dory x Reader van life fanfic?

I dont have anything particular to ask for just a little story of how it would be like to live with JD in Rhonda and have a simple life after all of the events that happened with Floyd and stuff :)

@!; "Put on Pants!" John Dory / Reader

"Summary"! You love JD, you really do... but at this point, you're about two seconds from slapping his pants in his face if he won't put them on!... and this is exactly how your mornings always start with your husband <3 "Tags"! Fluff and a dumb plot I made with my friend for a goofy story. Also I'm very very sleepy while writing this <3 I was also being silly, I need to have fun writing <3 @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen

@!; You loved John Dory, you really did. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have married him all those years ago, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have put up with his weird antics or his little shenanigans, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have left your old life behind to start a new one with him, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be here right now arguing about him and his pants! It was a very odd argument, not even an argument more like a back and forth bicker, about John Dory refusing to wear his pants inside of the house. Not only not his pants, but his shirt as well! Now, granted, you understood where he came from. It’s his house as well, you both lived in Rhonda after all, and he did live here first, but you also lived here! And not to get you wrong, you could stare at the site of your husband, nearly, butt naked for hours on end yet… there comes to a point where the pants need to go on. If no one is coming over, JD is walking around in nothing other than his boxers and goggles. Sure he’ll put on pants and the vest you got him if he has to go out. But as soon as he gets home? Somehow all of that disappears and he’s left in his boxers, which both baffles and amazes you. How he even manages to basically strip that fast, you aren’t even sure. All you know is that you’re slightly fed up with seeing him in boxers for a majority of your day.

“Babe,” You tried explaining to JD without laughing, knowing this was just plain ridiculous. Though, seeing as your husband just walked out of your shared room for the umteenth time in nothing but boxers, you had to bring it up. Again. “You need to put on pants, you can’t just walk out here in boxers! We have a window. Multiple windows! And none of them are tinted.” “Our house.” Was the only grumble you got from your half-asleep husband, who was brushing his teeth all the while trying to make coffee. He wasn’t actually exactly brushing his teeth, as the toothbrush hung from his mouth, likely forgotten as JD began to warm the cafetera on the stop top. It was also hard to keep a straight face when JD was wearing his red heart boxers, “Ay dios mio, John Dory! Put on your damn pants, no one wants to see your nearly naked ass walking around our camper! Por favor.” You pleaded, slips of giggles escaped your lips as you tried to calm your giggles by rubbing your face. But it was truly no use when you glanced back up at your husband. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, and the widest smirk on his face. He looked a little goofy, seeing as his toothbrush was still hanging out of his mouth, but you could tell what his next words were. It was going to be a quip, a flirtatious one of that. It was one he usually used to end this pants conversation, knowing it got you flustered or flabbergasted or just plain over him enough to stop your pursuit. You loved JD so much, but whenever he says: “Aw come on babe, you know you love the sight,” You wanted to strangle him! “I would love the sight even more if my husband would put on his damn pants!” You shot back, not being able to contain your laughter as JD began to playfully wiggle his eyebrows at you. With a shake of your head, you covered your face in your hands and sunk down on the couch melodramatically. God this man is going to be the death of you and he knew it.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#john dory x reader #john dory headcanons #brozone x reader #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls dreamworks #trolls #trolls fandom #brozone #john dory trolls #john dory

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 28 days

Text

Temptation and Need

Summary: Can Y/N tempt Dean into what he needs?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), face-sitting, cum shot, overstimulation, big age gap (21 and 43), dirty talk, dub-con (sort of - the reader not taking no for an answer), masturbation, voyeurism (very brief), use of a vibrator, spanking, (brief), pussy slapping (brief).

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 3,895

A/N: A million years ago (okay, last December) I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap with dean winchester where the female!reader is like in her 20s and dean's is his 40s :) just some rough smut with like hair pulling where dean asks for her to sit on his face or something like that (if you're comfortable with it) and just dirty talks cause I absolutely love them haha :) I really love your writing btw!!!! thanks a lot <3

It took me about four and a half months to get to this, but it's finally here! Thank you so much for this request, hope you're happy with it Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Y/N had known it would be good - no - amazing. Since the first time she’d laid eyes on Dean Winchester six months earlier, she’d wanted to feel him beneath her, above her, behind her, inside her. She’d wanted him any and every way she could have him.

She simply needed him with the heat of a raging fire that never cooled.

So she’d imagined this moment for more than a hundred nights, and she’d known it would be incredible. But her imagination had been woefully inadequate.

She’d been attempting to seduce Dean the entire time she’d known him. She knew that he knew how much she wanted him, but he’d been reluctant. Every time she sidled up close to him, he’d moved away. Any time she put her hands on him, his heart kicked up so she could feel it pound, and if she got close enough she could feel the hard evidence of his desire press against her. But inevitably he would gently lift her hands off of him and give her a look of warning.

“Stop this, Y/N.” He’d scold with heat pooling quick and fervid in his eyes.

One time he’d given her a look of exasperation and then scowled at her. “I’m too old for you dammit. I could be your father.”

She bit her lip and smiled, full of mischief, as she’d answered. “Well, I’m happy to call you Daddy, if that’s what you want.”

It was true that she was just barely twenty-one and Dean was forty-three, but she didn’t care. In fact, she’d always preferred older men. Men like Dean had experience and stamina, they knew just what to do to pleasure their partner. She’d never slept with anyone less than a decade older than her. Some people might say she had daddy issues (and maybe she did) but she didn’t care what other people thought - she pursued her own pleasure.

Yet in spite of plenty of sexual experiences with older men, despite all her fantasies about Dean, she’d never imagined this level of pleasure.

***

A few hours earlier:

Dean fell onto the library chair, closing his eyes with a groan and dropping his green duffel bag at his feet, just as Y/N walked into the room.

“You’re back!” She called excitedly as she hurried towards him. “How was the hunt? Where’s Sam?”

Dean grunted as she hopped into his lap. His feet were planted on the ground, and he was slightly slouched in the chair creating the perfect seat for her. His long, muscular thighs rippled beneath her, and as she wiggled against him, she felt the telltale sign of his desire as the bulge at the front of his jeans hardened slightly against her thigh.

The muscle in his jaw jumped as he gave her a scolding look. “The hunt was long and bloody, but fine. It's finished anyway. And Sam is with Eileen."

She ran her finger across the small abrasion on his cheek. "Well, at least you're less beaten up than usual." She said with dubious cheer.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, it was a walk in the park. Now get off my lap so I can go take a shower.”

She nodded and slid off so he could stand, but when he moved off towards the showers, she followed. When he arrived at the shower room door, he turned to look at her standing close behind him. He gave a sideways nod towards the door.

“This is as far as you go, sweetheart.” He said with a raised brow; his gaze turned knowing as she pouted.

She tried for her most convincing tone. “But just think of how much more enjoyable it would be if I came in with you.” She could see in his eyes that he was thinking about exactly that scenario.

But he shook his head. “No. It’s late, you shouldn't have waited up for me. Go to sleep.”

She pouted some more and then sighed before giving him a winsome smile and a wink. “Yes, Daddy.”

Dean scowled at her but she just stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before slowly backing away.

“Goodnight, Dean. I’m glad you’re home. I sleep so much better when you’re here.” She said truthfully.

He gave her a nod and then walked into the shower room. She heard the lock click and she sighed. Another night with nothing but her fantasies to sustain her.

She went to her room and got ready for bed, slipping on the AC/DC t-shirt she’d stolen from Dean. He knew she had it, he’d seen her in it, but he’d never demanded it back.

She crawled into bed and tried to go to sleep. But she was restless, her body aching in a way that wouldn’t end without Dean between her legs.

Her skin was flushed and the soft wool blanket she was covered with irritated her overheated flesh until she threw it off of her. She brought her hands up to cover her face; she knew she wouldn’t get to sleep unless she did something about the longing that had overtaken her body.

So she rolled over and pulled open the bottom drawer of her bedside table, pulling out the modest-sized vibrator she kept hidden in there for nights just like tonight. Since moving into the bunker a few months ago, nights like tonight happened pretty much every night.

She leaned back against her pillows and let her mind drift, allowing images to flash into her mind’s eye. Dean’s face, set in lines of intense desire; his hands, strong and hard, warm and rough, moving over her body.

She slipped her hand past the waistband of her panties, letting her middle finger swirl around her clit, desperately trying to imagine it was Dean’s thick, blunt fingertip pressing against her.

After a few minutes of bringing forth endless hot and decadent images of Dean into her head, she turned on the vibrator and let it press against her clit a moment or two before sliding it through her dripping slick, and pushing it inside.

As she fucked herself with the toy, she kept Dean’s body in mind - his powerful muscles and solid bulk - imagining him hovering above her. She worked at it for a long time, desperately seeking her release.

But though she moved the vibrating silicone cock fast and hard in and out of her quivering cunt, she just couldn’t find it. After half an hour of coming so close, but constantly missing the mark, Y/N was whimpering and more frustrated than she could express.

In desperation, she began to chant quietly, imagining that Dean was there with her and could hear her need. “Dean. Dean. Fuck me, please. Ugh, I need you so badly, I fucking need you.” Her voice crescendoed in a moan of disappointment as her orgasm stayed just beyond her reach. “Dean.” She whined as she bucked her hips desperately.

Suddenly she heard her door squeak open, making her squeal and rip the vibrator out of her body, shock coursing through her, making her heart pound. But then she fell completely silent as she saw Dean standing silhouetted against the hallway light.

For a moment or two neither of them moved. Finally, Y/N turned off her vibrator and silence reigned.

Dean finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I heard you. Heard you calling my name.”

He took a step inside her room; she could see now that he was dressed for sleep, sweats and no shirt - she gasped softly at the incredible view of his wide chest, his shoulder muscles flexing as his hands balled into fists. She could also make out more of his face; it was set in harsh lines, the muscle in his jaw flexing over and over. He licked his lips and her pussy clenched.

“Why were you calling me?” Dean asked, though he had to know the answer as she still gripped the vibrator, and the scent of her dripping sex perfumed the air.

She could sense that the cord that bound them, that had been pulling them together and apart since the day they met, was about to snap - if she could just say the right words.

She went with the truth.

“I was calling out to you while I fucked myself. I was imagining it was your cock buried deep inside me, imagining your hands on my skin, your lips on my throat.” Dean’s eyes were blazing emeralds with dark onyx pupils spreading across them as she spoke.

“But this thing wasn’t cutting it.” She said, lifting the vibrator and then dropping it on the floor beside the bed. “I need the real thing.”

She pushed her feet into the mattress and opened her knees wide, pushing her hand into her panties once again as she stared at him. “I need you, Dean. Please.”

The cord snapped and Dean charged forward, stopping at the end of her bed and grabbing her ankles to yank her towards him. She gasped as he placed a knee between her legs and rested his weight on his palms as he leaned down to capture her mouth.

His kiss was hard, desperate, almost violent, as he crushed her lips and stabbed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned at the weight of him pressed against her, lifting her hips slightly so she could press her aching cunt against his thick thigh. She groaned harshly into Dean’s mouth as the pressure caused an even hotter fever to rage across her body.

Dean pulled out of the kiss and stood up, taking hold of her hands to pull her into a sitting position. His chest was rising and falling with deep breaths as he grasped the hem of his stolen t-shirt.

His voice was all growl when he spoke. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt about ripping this fucking t-shirt from your body? How many mornings I had to sneak away to the shower to jack off like a fucking horny teenager, after seeing you parading around in it? It barely covers your ass, and every time you’d bend, even a little, I could see a glimpse of your little cotton panties, or sometimes, just your bare ass in a thong.”

His voice was slightly dark, a rebuke in his words. “I knew you were doing it on purpose, of course, knew it was your way of trying to tempt me into fucking ruining you.”

He yanked the t-shirt up over her head as a moan escaped her. Dean groaned too as he got his first look at her. “Fuck me.” He said quietly.

He looked her in the eye as he reached out and roughly tugged on her puckered nipple. She cried out, her head dropping back, as she arched her chest forward.

“God damn, baby, you really do want it, don’t you? I thought it might be a game you were playing, but you really do want me to ruin this hot little pussy.” He reached his hand down to rub against her soaked panties. “You want that, baby? Huh? Want me to fuck you sensless? Till you can’t walk? Can’t think?”

Y/N nodded disjointedly. “God yes.” She whispered, grabbing his wrist to try and press his fingers harder against her cunt. “Please. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Dean knocked her hand away and grabbed both her wrists tightly as he used his body weight to push her back onto the mattress. He stared at her, making her feel like he could see straight through her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer.

“How much experience do you actually have, Y/N?”

She shook her head to dispel any worries. “Enough. I’m no virgin, and I know what I like.”

His mouth lifted slightly at the corner. “And what do you like, baby?”

“I like it rough and hard, but I’ll take some soft wooing too.” She said with a grin. She shrugged. “Basically, I like you - a lot - and whatever you have in mind, I’m down for.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, but give me a safe word, just in case.” He kissed her softly. “I won’t take any chances with you.”

His concern for her made Y/N’s stomach flip in a pleasant way. She smiled. “K, how about ‘shenanigans’?”

Dean chuckled. “Perfect.”

His smile faded as he bent his head to kiss her again, slowly this time, thoroughly, as though he didn’t want to leave an inch of her mouth unexplored. When he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air, he slowly kissed a path down her body, between her breasts, stopping to nip and suck on her nipples, pinching one and then the other, before trailing his lips down over her belly.

When he reached the apex of her thighs, he got off the bed to kneel at the foot of it, pulling her panties down over her legs and tossing them aside. He reached forward to wrap his arms around her thighs, spreading her open and pulling her to his mouth. He made a deep, guttural noise as he sank into her cunt, immediately licking and sucking on her sensitive skin, so that she was writhing beneath him almost instantly. She called out his name in desperation as she sank her fingers into his short hair, tugging slightly when he speared her with his tongue.

He pulled away from her and licked his lips free of her juices. “Fuck, yeah baby, say my name again, just like that.”

He let go of one of her thighs so he could bring his hand between her legs and slap it hard against her pussy. Y/N gasped and then her hips bucked as he did it again.

“You’ve been a naughty girl with this fucking pussy, haven’t you? Pushing this dripping mess against me every chance you got. Fuckin' rubbing on me, and constantly begging me to fuck you.”

He smacked her a third time and Y/N felt her cunt throb with a deep ache. “Fuck, Dean yes! I’ve wanted you to fuck me, wanted you to take me apart for so fucking long. Please, please! Bury yourself so deep in me.”

She screamed in pleasure as he rammed two fingers into her, knuckle deep. As he crooked them forward inside of her, he leaned down to flick his tongue against her clit, making her rear up off the bed. She was so close now. She could feel the tension in her body just on the verge of snapping, when he suddenly pulled back from her, removing his fingers and causing her to wail and plead.

“No, please, Dean. More.” She whimpered pathetically as he stood up.

But then he pushed down his sweats and she caught sight of his cock for the first time. It was long and thick, just as she’d known it would be - everything about Dean screamed, “Big Dick Energy”. It was absolutely beautiful, red-tipped and standing at attention.

She sat up and reached for him, wrapping her hand around the base and sliding her tongue through his slit, licking up the pre-cum that beaded there. Dean stood rigidly, letting her lick at him like a lollipop for a couple minutes more before he pulled her hand away.

“That’s enough for now, sweetheart.”

She pouted at him, but he just leaned down to grasp her waist, lifting her slightly and tossing her further up the bed. She gasped at the pleasure of being manhandled like a rag doll. He was on his knees as he moved towards her. He grabbed hold of her calves and flipped her over onto her stomach before smacking her ass once and then twice.

She moaned and instinctively lifted her hips, pushing her ass towards him for more.

He slapped her again, and then ordered her, “Get on your knees, and lean forward to hold on to the headboard.”

She did as he said, grabbing on to the rails of her headboard tightly. He pushed her thighs apart before turning to lay on his back underneath her, pushing her knees open even further with his wide shoulders.

Y/N was surprised; she’d thought he was getting her into position so he could take her from behind; instead she looked down to see his beautiful face positioned directly below her dripping cunt.

“Sit on my face, baby. Fuck yourself on my tongue. Ride me.”

Y/N moaned as he lifted his head slightly so he could lick up through her folds. He dropped his head back to the mattress, though, and his voice was hard when he spoke.

“Now.”

Despite all of her experience, Y/N had never been ordered to sit on a man’s face, and had never had oral sex this way. At first she was worried that she could hurt him, so she just lightly gyrated her hips against his mouth. But after a minute or so Dean grabbed onto her thighs and spoke angrily.

“I said sit, not float.” His hands pulled her down, forcing her to rest heavily against his face, so that she was truly sitting on it. His nose rubbed against her clit and Y/N couldn’t help grinding down against his mouth. His tongue delved deeply into her cunt, stabbing in and out of her entrance.

Very soon Y/N was truly fucking herself on his face, using the strength of his jaw and the slide of his lips to create otherworldly sensations. Every once in a while she’d lift herself slightly to check that Dean was okay, but he’d always growl and pull her back down.

Finally she could feel her orgasm growing inside her, felt the coil low in her stomach tightening almost to the point of pain, but then it burst open and she screamed as she rocked her hips and slammed herself down against Dean’s eager mouth as he slurped up everything she gushed onto him.

Aftershocks of her climax along with Dean’s probing tongue and plump, sucking lips, brought on two more mind-blowing orgasms. It felt as though she’d been edging herself for months and was now finally free to let go; her whole body trembled as Dean finally pushed her back and then rolled her under him.

Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked down into Y/N’s face; she knew she must look strung out, and she could feel unconsciousness creeping in. Dean must have seen it too because he shook his head and swiftly shoved three fingers into her cunt making her come alive again with a shout.

“No way, baby. You didn’t spend all these months begging me to fuck you, just to get off with coming a couple times and falling asleep. I want you fucked out completely. I want you stupid and useless beneath me. I want to fuck you so long that you’re just a boneless, lump of cock slut laid out on the bed.”

As he finished speaking he pressed his middle finger against her clit and that pressure, combined with his filthy words, was all it took to have her shouting out her ecstasy once again.

As she was coming down, Dean slammed himself into her, forcing her clenching walls open so her cunt could squeeze him tight as he sheathed himself inside. He pushed her knees wide open, keeping her feet in the air as he jackhammered into her. He slammed so hard and so deep, she knew he’d leave marks.

And she knew she’d never experienced anything like it, nothing in her past, or even in her fantasies had prepared her for this level of raw passion and need.

She came two more times as he fucked up into her; he changed up his rhythm, going from hard and driving to slow and sensual as the mood suited him. By the time he flipped her onto her stomach Y/N did indeed feel boneless and stupid with pleasure.

“Please Dean.” She begged softly, not actually aware what she was asking for.

“Come on baby, I didn’t say we were done, don’t give out on me now.” Dean said harshly as he lifted her hips. Her knees rubbed against the sheet, but really she was being held in place with Dean’s strength.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re seeing stars.” He told her before slamming her back onto his cock, drilling even deeper inside than he had before.

Y/N gasped, her pussy was so overly sensitive after being fucked for so long, but she couldn’t escape the intense rush of pleasure that came as Dean slammed his cock against her sweet spot deep inside her.

“Fuck, yes.” She mumbled into the pillow where her face was buried.

“Yeah, that’s right baby.” Dean rammed into the spot again, making her scream, her throat raw from all her screams of pleasure. “Take every fucking inch. This is what you’ve wanted for months, isn’t it? Spent every minute I’ve known you trying to get us right here, haven’t you?”

He dropped one of her hips so he could spank her right cheek hard, watching it jiggle. “Answer me!” He demanded as he spanked her again before grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head up and back. “Tell me how much you’ve wanted this, little slut. Admit to prancing around this bunker, desperate for me to pin you down and fuck you just like this.”

“Yes!” Y/N gasped as he pounded into her over and over, never losing rhythm or strength. “Yes, fuck, yes.” It was all she could get out. She was truly exhausted, but she still chased the high he was raising within her with every thrust.

He spanked her again and then reached his hand around so that he could push against her throbbing clit. It took only a few circles with his finger, and a few more hammering thrusts before she shattered into a million pieces, seeming to shake and shiver forever.

As she came back to earth slightly, she could feel Dean pulling out of her. “I’m gonna come baby. Can I come on your ass?” She nodded and mumbled out a “yes.”

She heard him grunt obscenely, and despite her liquefied bones, her pussy still clenched at the sound, before she felt his sticky seed spurting across her ass, and lower back. He bucked forward, his thighs slapping against her ass as he shot another load, warm and wet, onto her skin.

Finally he fell to the side, and Y/N let her knees give out beneath her as she fell onto her stomach in complete exhaustion and immediate unconsciousness. She woke some time later to feel Dean wiping her clean with a warm cloth and pressing kisses up her spine.

When he saw her eyes flutter open, he tossed away the cloth and laid down beside her, kissing her nose and her cheek before pressing his mouth gently to hers.

“You were so fucking perfect, Y/N. Everything I’ve dreamed about night after night.” He shook his head. “No, you were even more perfect than I imagined, so much more.”

She smiled softly and raised an eyebrow. “So you agree? You were an idiot and we should have done this so much sooner?”

He scoffed. “N’ah, it was perfect this way, at this time. But it’s gonna be even more perfect next time.”

Y/N grinned at him and tried not to be too obvious about how thrilled she was that there was going to be a next time.

“I don’t know.” She teased. “You’re gonna have to try hard to do better than this.”

Dean grinned wickedly. “Challenge accepted.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

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@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

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Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fan fic

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writingsfromhome · 8 months

Text

Impossibly Real

A/N: cute little story about being in a rough dating world and having a nice neighbour friend.

Part 2

———————————————————

I memorize the face on my phone whilst standing in the middle of my building lobby. I study it as if I hadn’t been staring at his pictures since we both swiped right a couple weeks ago.

“Hot date?” A voice calls out. I look up to the source—one of my neighbours with takeaway in one hand and a case of beer in the other. The smell of his dinner makes my stomach rumble—I’d skipped dinner myself for this 8pm date.

“A very hot date,” I respond. Harry was one of the first people I’d interacted with when I moved to this complex a year and a half ago. He’d helped me move my boxed mattress in and I thanked him with a lukewarm beer. Ever since, we’d pick up on conversation every time we saw each other.

Most of those times were when we’d both be rushing out to work in the morning. Sometimes he’d walk to the tube with me, both of us going in opposite directions. Other times his girlfriend would pick him up.

“Let’s see,” he switches his beer to the other hand and holds his hand out.

I pretend to open the app and look for my date’s profile as if it hadn’t been open for the last three hours. He makes a sound of approval when I pass it over.

“Right?” I grin as he scans the profile.

I wasn’t always lucky in love. When Harry first met me I was fresh out of a 3 year relationship, and the only things to follow were bad dates and lonely nights.

“Likes pizza?” Harry says like he’d just caught sight of the guy’s private pictures.

“Yeah? So what?” I feel my defences go up. “Who doesn’t?”

“Yeah but that’s so…basic.” He hands the phone back. “That’s like saying ‘Drinks tea’ or ‘breathes air’.”

“No it’s not!” I wanted this to be a good one so badly, I wouldn’t hear any of Harry’s slander. “It’s relatable, and shows he’s down to earth.”

Harry groans. “Remind me what you do for work?”

I squint at him, unsure where he was going with his. “Analyst.”

“Ah,” he switches his beer back to his other hand and it snaps me out of the moment. I always lost track of time talking to Harry and this couldn’t be one of those times. I had somewhere to be!

“Ah what?” I glance at the door.

“As an analyst you’re used to reading into things-“

“Piss off!” I shut him down. “I’m leaving now.”

“I’m joking!” Harry calls out. “I’m sure he’s a great guy.”

I don’t respond to him as I walk away but he calls out my name.

“You look great, it’ll be a good date.”

“Fingers crossed,” I echo. “Enjoy your night.”

I find a taxi quickly and sit on my hands the whole way there so I don’t pick at my nails. There was no such thing as out of my league, I remind myself. He was just going to be a guy. A good looking guy.

***

“I’m getting a bit tipsy,” Dave admits. It was half past 9 and we’d had 5 drinks total, one of those being a nervous shot when he hadn’t showed up in the first ten minutes.

“We should get something to eat!” I suggest.

He grimaces. “It’s a bit overpriced in here.”

Oh. He was cheap.

That was rude. I snap out of my darkening thoughts. I couldn’t help it: not only was Dave late, he looked 5 years older than his pictures, which wasn’t a bad thing, but he was also 5 inches shorter than his profile stated.

It was awkward when he came in and I got up to hug him. I’d worn my 3 inch heels expecting to still come to his chest but we’d met at eye level instead. I didn’t want to make it awkward so I had sat down quickly. I regretted wearing these heels. They were chaffing against my feet even whilst sitting.

And the whole evening had been stiff conversation, like rubbing sandpaper against itself. It had ended in a dull evening. He was cute. That was all he had going for him.

“There’s a really good pizza place around here!” I say casually, like I hadn’t Googled the vicinity for an hour after we’d made plans. “I heard it was rated top 10 in the city.

His grimace comes back, it made him more unattractive the more he did it.

“I can go for some chips. There’s probably one down the road, you alright for a walk?”

“Great!” Maybe some fresh air and a change of scenery could spice the night up.

He pays the bill—maybe he wasn’t so cheap, I think. That is until we get to the chips shop and he hangs back for me to order for us. And pay.

I can already imagine retelling this date to my girl friends. They were all engaged or married so my dating stories were always amusing content for our hangouts.

Crossing from 20 to 30 made the stories more tragic than amusing, but I lived to laugh and that’s what I usually did after getting over bad dates like this one.

“It’s a nice night,” Dave says when we get our chips. He douses his in ketchup like a toddler would. Gah!

“It is…”

“Let’s take these outside.”

I’d rather not, with my heels digging into the backs of my feet and the blisters chafing against the fake leather. But I agree.

“So what’s with the pink?” He asks randomly.

“What?” I say over a mouthful of chip. I didn’t care how disgusting I was at this point. He’d done the bill-for-a-bill thing without asking and I’d lost any hope I had for the evening. I may as well be gross.

“The pink, you’ve got it at the bottoms of your hair and your earrings, your lips and your skirt and your heels-“

“I like pink.”

“That’s obvious,” he says dryly. “Is there a story behind it or something? Usually only schoolgirls wear their favourite colour that much.”

And usually only younger boys have fries with they ketchup rather ketchup with their fries, I want to say. But I keep my mouth shut.

“I think it’s overrated that getting older means getting all serious and boring. Pink’s my favourite colour and the world can know it. Be brighter for knowing it too.”

I keep my tone light yet Dave seems to takes my personal philosophy as a direct attack.

“But it’s a bit juvenile isn’t it? You don’t have to be boring just because you’re an adult but no one’s going to take you much seriously all dressed in pink. It’s a bit childish.”

“Not childish enough for you to want to go on a date with me,” I say. My pink hair was on display in my profile as well as many pink outfits throughout my linked Instagram. I know he’d seen it.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, not like that.” He backtracks. His face turns my favourite colour, even in the dark.

“When grown men are obsessed with Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or whatever, nobody bats an eye. They show up with fictional characters on their shirt and tattooed on their arms and it’s all dandy. But you think the world’s going to take me less seriously because I wear a lot of pink?”

“Okay I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.” Dave backs down like I knew he would. I’d known too many boys like him, who charged up when they thought they had an ounce of intellect over me. Reciprocate with even an ounce of assertive energy and they back down like a well-trained dog.

This night was tragic. My hopes up for nothing. And my feet were blistered for no damn reason.

“I think we’ve understood each other just fine.” I wipe my hands on a napkin and toss the rest of my chips away, ignoring the look Dave gives me. “It was a night, I’m going to head home now.”

“Look I-“

“Goodnight.” I walk away. I had no idea what direction but as long as I can end the night with the hope-zapper Dave.

***

On the lift up to my flat I look at myself in the mirror. Dead eyes, flushed and puffy face from the alcohol, and my hair was voluminous from the windy night air. I couldn’t wait to get to my flat and take my stupid heels off. They were so painful they’d now actually gone numb.

My phone rings as I get to my door. Dave. The nerve of that guy!

I put it on silent and fish out my keys but my phone buzzes a second time and I drop them.

“Fuck!” I say just as the door behind me opens.

“Woah!” Harry steps back into his flat after nearly tripping over my crouched figure.

“Ugh sorry,” I stand back up, keys looped around my finger.

“You’re back early.” Harry slowly eyes me from top to bottom. It makes my stomach feel like a washing machine on high. “Nice night with pizza guy?”

“Pizza guy was just like the others.”

I lean against my door and ignore my phone that’s now gone off for the third time in my purse.

“Fair enough. He did say he likes pizza.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I whine. “I just wasted £30 on shite company.”

“Can I offer you a beer or have you had too many?”

I look down at my watch. It was half past 10, and I had work tomorrow but life was short and I was miserable so I follow Harry in.

“I’ll just toss this later.”

It’s only then I realize Harry had a trash bag in his hands and he was in his boxers and a robe. He rests the bag near his door and motions to the fridge as he walks down his hall. “Grab me one too?”

I’d been in Harry’s flat a few time, once when I baked too many sugar cookies for Christmas and he invited me in to eat with him. Another time when he was having a birthday party. I had thought it was cute his friends had done that for him old school. The last time was when my wifi stopped working one weekend and I had to ask him to use his. That was a nice day, both of us were going through busy season and had worked side by side on our laptops until Harry announced we were losers and should stop working to get dinner and watch a movie. That was one of my favourite days living in this complex so far.

I’m still standing in his kitchen when he comes out with sweatpants.

“Why are you still standing there?”

I look down at my shoes and so does he.

“Don’t you want to take those off?” Harry lifts one brow, confused.

“I’m scared.” I say. I didn’t know what I’d find. I felt like I was standing in a pool of blood.

“Why?” Harry was lucky he didn’t know the fear of taking off awful shoes after a long day of breaking them in. Men were lucky that way.

I shift my heel away from the back of the shoe and pain shoots up. It sounds sticky. I whimper. “Can you get me a chair?”

“What did you wear?” Harry’s staring at them with a mixture of fear and confusion. He carries one of his dining chairs to me. “Those are like, torture heels.”

“Tonight was torture.” I sit down and cross my foot over my knee. I take a deep breath. Harry hovers above me not able to look away. “Here goes nothing.”

I pry the shoe away and nearly cry.

“Oh my god!” Harry shouts. “Yo-you’re bleeding! What the f-“

“Oh my god,” I was dripping onto his floor. “Can I get-“

“Tissue!” Harry’s already throwing me his roll but I knock it away.

“I need help. Getting. To the bathroom.”

“Right right.” Harry kicks my shoe away and leans down so I can wrap my arm around his shoulder. I feel like an injured football player but so much more pathetic as I limp to his bathroom.

He sets me down on his toilet seat and blasts the tub with water.

“Sorry,” I limp to the edge of his bathtub and swing myself so that my feet dangle in. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your night.”

“I’m glad you did,” Harry’s voice still carries a hint of shock. “What is wrong with you? That’s diabolical you wearing shoes like that! What’s wrong with trainers? Or sandals? Don’t girls like strap sandals?”

“It just comes with being a woman okay?” I couldn’t answer all his questions. “I still need to take off the other one.”

I was more scared for my right foot than my left.

“Just…deal with that.”

Harry’s tub is filling with water and it stings everywhere it touches my foot. But especially my heel and all of my toes. I switch the knob to cold.

“Okay,” I take a deep breath. “The other fucking shoe.”

I can feel Harry peering over my shoulder. This one feels glued on and I squeal as I comes off. My foot looked like a bruised and crusted mess.

“Holy sh-“ Harry whispers. I dunk it fast in the running water and nearly topple backwards but Harry catches me with his knee and then stays there so I have somewhere to lean. It was nice.

“Bloody hell,” I swear as my feet sting and paint the water pink. “Genuinely so sorry about this.”

“Don’t be.” Harry shakes his head. “But please toss those shoes in the bin and never wear something like that again.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It’s not. It’s very possible.”

“I love heels! I just need to break these in.”

“They’re breaking you love.”

I feel him stiffen behind me which makes me suddenly self-conscious. I didn’t really read into his words, love was just a term of affection used around my friends. But apparently it wasn’t something Harry used lightly.

“They are. These ones are going in the bin, DNA and all.” I try to continue casually. This was so weird. Weirder than it needed to be given Harry and I were mates at most; I’d met his girlfriend, I didn’t think of him anything more than a neighbourhood friend. We certainly hadn’t hung out outside our flats before.

“Maybe burn them to be sure,” Harry finally responds. His voice is a bit rougher than before. “Don’t want to get accidentally framed with the free DNA.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d be too obvious a murderer to commit anything stealthily. They’d identify the pink-haired giant walking away.”

“You’re not a giant. You’re not even 6 feet.”

“I’m nearly 5’9 which is tall enough for a woman.”

“I don’t think so.” Harry brushes my hair behind my shoulder and a shiver runs up my spine. Maybe I should turn the icy water off. “Plus I like the pink. Makes you more interesting to look at.”

“So I’m not interesting to look at regularly?” I tease. I look up at him and the back of my head hits his thigh.

I see his adam’s apple bob and I suddenly feel vulnerable sitting here like this. I lean forward so my feet are steadied against the tub which is agonizing for my bloody feet but at least I wasn’t leaning against him.

“I said more interesting.”

The room grows quiet and I try not to read into it. Harry thought I was interesting to look at. Okay.

I turn the tap off and the silence in the room becomes unbearable.

“Have you got any plasters?” I turn inch by inch so I don’t slip on the lip of the tub or need more help from Harry. The energy in here was weird and him touching me was going to make it weirder.

“Yeah,” he’s eager to leave only to come back laughing. “They’re actually here. I…”

He opens a drawer and pulls a box out along with a tiny vial.

I take it from him, some sort of ointment oil. Why not.

“Motherf-“ I bite my lip as the ointment stings my cuts. “Why wouldn’t you warn me!”

Harry laughs again and it eases the tension a little. “I thought you knew it would burn!”

“I don’t treat cuts often jeez!”

“Sorry! That friend—you met him at my party, black curly hair, the one who does custom stuff?”

“Oh yeah I remember.”

“I helped him out one summer. I had to hand cut all these signs using one of those exacto blades? Cut my hands up so many times I had to buy something for them after one of them got infected.”

I wrinkle my nose at the idea of an infected cut and douse my other foot in the oil, swearing as I take the pain.

“I have a roll and cotton if you want to bandage your foot?” Harry suggests. “I don’t know if regular plasters cut it.”

“That’s so dramatic,” I usually stuck a couple plasters on and got on with it. But this was also the worst I’d ever had with breaking shoes in.

“Let me-“

“No!” I push Harry’s shoulder away as he leans down with the roll of bandage he’d procured. “Harry do not touch my foot!”

“I’ve dressed grosser,” he holds my heel gently and I try to yank it away again without falling into the tub but it’s impossible. I settle for pushing him away.

“Harry please! I’ve intruded enough stop touching my disgusting foot!”

“I’ve seen you wash it. It’s not disgusting, just bloody. Now stop squirming about!”

“Why are you…” I trail away because he wasn’t listening. He dabs my foot with a cotton pad and then begins the process of bandaging my heel and then my toe. I try not to squirm at how embarrassing this was.

Harry’s gentle and attentive as he moves on to the other foot which should make me feel okay but only adds to the humiliation. We were so not close enough to do this—I don’t even know if I’d do the same for him.

Another part of me knows I would. Despite knowing him in passing, plus a few solid occasions, I could tell Harry was one of the good guys. He was always chivalrous around the building, friendly in any interaction I’d seen with him, loved enough to be thrown a surprise birthday party, and caring enough to always ask about how I was doing. And to do this.

When he glances up I don’t expect it. Our gazes clash and the weird energy from before creeps in again.

“Sorted,” he lets my foot down gently.

“Harry I owe you like…a massive dinner, and drinks are on me forever forward.”

“That’s not necessary,” he chuckles as he puts his little first aid kit back. “Just don’t wear heels like that again please. It’s not worth it.”

“They’re so pretty though,” I sigh. They’re now discarded on the tiled floor, the insides bloody.

“Let’s get you that beer,” he holds a hand out.

“I can’t. I’ve kept you late and you probably-“

“One beer.”

“I don’t want to intrude-“

“Just one,” his tone is gentle but he’s not taking no for an answer.

“Fine!” I admit defeat. He helps me up and together I limp to his couch.

We sit in silence for a bit while we drink. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but the events of the evening play in my head.

“He actually insulted me.” I blurt. Before he can ask questions I explain. “Firstly he was late, then he was droning on and on about shit I don’t even remember anymore. Then he was cheap about food, but because he paid for drinks he got me to pay for chips. Then he said I wear too much pink and nobody would take me seriously as an adult. That it was childish.”

“Really?” Harry leans forward from his end of the couch. “He said all that?”

“Yeah! I said men are allowed to wear their Star Wars shirts and Lord of the Rings bullshite. And when a woman wears more than one article of pink she’s childish?”

“What a prick.”

“I know!”

“You’re too good for someone like that.”

“Thank you,” I sit back, seen and validated.

“The pink makes you cool, stand out in a crowd. He’s just blind to look at you and think that. Or he’s just intimidated.”

“Oh yeah he lied about his height! So I stood there in those stupid pink heels taller than him.”

“That must have got him,” Harry grins. “I actually love that story.”

His words warm me.

“You’re so nice Harry,” I tell him. “Honestly you’re like a gem of a guy.”

“I’m not that nice-“

“Don’t tell me you’re a bad boy or something because you’re a solid good guy. Rare. Never change.”

“Hmph,” he clears his throat.

“Your girlfriend’s lucky. A lot of us have to put up with trolls before we find a good guy like you.”

Harry stays silent. Maybe I’d said too much. Maybe I should stop drinking.

“We broke up. Wasn’t good enough for her.”

Shite. Blistered, bloody, bandaged foot directly in mouth..

“I-I’m sorry. To hear that! Oh my god yeah I guess I haven’t seen her in a while-“

“Yeah been a few months now. I’m mostly over it.”

“How long were you two dating again?”

“Almost 3,” Harry twists his mouth to the side. I’d never seen him look bitter before. “I accepted it, the end of us. Until I hear from a friend she jumped right into another relationship. So…that must have been behind the scenes near the end of our relationship.”

Bitter indeed. “That’s a shitty way to find out too.”

“I wish she was just honest. Y’know like, I met someone else whatever. At least that way I took the hit at once and then got over it. Instead after a month of moving on I just got punched all over again.”

“That’s a dick move.” I agree. “I’ve seen you so many times the last few months why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, “I didn’t want to bring down the mood. Felt too loaded for a conversation on the lift.”

“You could have saved it for a walking-to-the-tube conversation?”

“Then just part ways after dropping that on you?”

“Isn’t that perfect?” I tease and he covers his face. I change the subject. “My 3.5 year relationship ended when he said he didn’t see me as marriage material.”

“I thought it was a mutual breakup?” Harry asks. I’m surprised he remembers what I told him when I first moved in.

“I lied. I didn’t want you to see me as your pathetically lonely neighbour.”

He laughs at that. At least I’d gotten a smile back on his face. “I thought it was a bit suspicious but I didn’t push it. Every time I saw you when you first moved in it always looked like you cried.”

“Oh my god!” I cover my face. “Don’t tell me that! That’s so embarrassing!”

It was true. I cried for three weeks straight after the breakup but I also thought I was sly enough to get around unnoticed.

“It’s not a big deal! I used to worry about you.”

“That’s another thing that’ll keep me up at night now—but see that’s sweet! You barely knew me and you worried. Like! You were raised right.”

“Sure,” he smiles my way with a laugh in his eyes. He was enjoying making me squirm but it’s this smile, one I’d never seen before directed at me, that made me squirm the most.

“Okay now stop being sweet and kick me out.” I gingerly stand and suck up the fresh pain that comes back.

“You can stay as long a-“

“Harry.” I look at him seriously. “I know we both work demanding jobs, and that’s what we have to do tomorrow morning. It’s past midnight and I should go.”

He sighs and gets up to help me hobble to his door.

“Good thing I live next door—oh my shoes. They’re in your-“

“I’ll get them to you later.” He promises.

“You just want to try them on in private.” I tease as he opens his door. He waits while I fish through my purse again for my keys. I remember then the missed calls from Dave—that feels so long ago.

“I like my feet whole.” He chuckles. “Plus I’m tall enough.”

“Some girls think 6 feet is short.”

“How do you know I’m 6 feet?”

I turn my key and let my door swing open.

“I’m good at telling heights.”

“What’s your secret?”

“Well,” I turn back to him and put my hand on my head. “I get my height and then just measure against the person. I gauge the inches which if I’m close enough-“ Harry moved closer to me so there’s only a few inches between us. “Uhm. If I’m close enough it’s easy to count up or down.”

“So you count up-“

“Three or so inches.” I look up, determined to meet his eye. It was just Harry. I didn’t need to feel weird around my neighbour Harry.

But I can’t look away. I never noticed the depth of his eyes; they’re mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

“It’s a neat party trick.” He says so low, but we’re so close it’s loud as hell to my ears. Or maybe that’s the blood rushing through my head.

“Don’t really go to enough parties to turn it into a trick.” My voice comes out squeaky and I clear my throat. “Mostly useful to compare a dating profile to the real thing.”

“Hm,” he hums. His fingers toy with the pinks of my hair before draping it behind my shoulder.

“I should go.” I say for the millionth time.

He looks at me again and I forget why I should go. His gaze drops to my lips and I feel hot—hotter than the pain on my bloody feet.

“You’re the real thing.”

It’s unconscious, the way I arch up to him. It’s natural, the way he meets me halfway. It’s unforgettable, the way his soft lips feel on mine.

Until I lean my weight on my toes and I’m reminded of my broken feet, this evening, and who I was kissing.

I couldn’t be kissing my neighbour! I saw him nearly every damn day!

“Har-“ I push gently at his chest and he’s quick to move back.

“Sorry I-that-“

“No I’m sorry that was me-“

“We should…”

“Yeah.” I grasp behind my back until my hand touches my doorframe. “Um…thanks for everything. Tonight.”

“Yeah.” Harry’s flushed and somehow more attractive than I’ve ever noticed. He also has a smidge of pink lipstick at the corner of his mouth but I file that away for later. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” I turn and quickly close my door, knowing Harry was not going to be the first to leave. Despite my head telling me not to, I turn and peep through the peephole. He’s still leaning against his doorframe, head bowed, running his hand through his hair. I watch him mutter something and then go in. I stay there until the automatic light switches off and then sink to the floor.

Harry. Friendly, funny, neighbour Harry. He’d dressed my bloody feet, served me beer, and then kissed me.

I touch my lips. I wasn’t even mad about it. This was going to be complicated no doubt, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

***

I manage to avoid Harry for a week. Which is a pretty impressive feat given our doors nearly open onto each others.

But he catches me on the lift after work one day. There’s already two others beside me and Harry nearly misses the lift, slipping in just as it’s closing. He does a double take when he sees me.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

“Smart choice of shoes.”

We look down at my Stan Smiths.

“I’ve learned my lesson…for now.” I look back up at the row of numbers. The lift stops on floor 5 and the couple get out.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states simply when the door closes.

“I have not!” I finally look at him and nearly lose my breath. When did he become so attractive?!

“We see each other almost every day living the way we do. And you’re telling me we managed to miss each other for a week?”

I shrug, “it’s been a weird week.”

“When did the weird week start?”

Saved by the bell. The doors open to our floors with a ding, but Harry blocks me from my front door.

“Are you serious?” I try to sidestep him but he stays in my path.

“We should talk.”

“We’re talking now.”

“C’mon.” He sighs and moves out of my way. I sigh myself before opening my door and leaving it open behind me. He takes the hint.

“I want to apologize for that night.” Harry says. “I was just feeling vulnerable and it shouldn’t have happened-“

“You’re joking right? I was going on about how good you were and I got a little too into it I think. I totally kissed you so I’m sorry. For making it weird-“

“I kissed you,” Harry tries to correct me.

“No I kissed you so I should apolog-“

“No.” Harry cuts me off.

“Why are we arguing about this?” I throw my hands up. We’re standing in the entryway going back and forth about this. It was stupid. “We’re both sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. Let’s just move on okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees. “So we’re friends? You’re not going to avoid me in the building?”

“No.” I put my hands on my hips. “Cuz I wasn’t avoiding you in the first place.”

He laughs, throwing his head back and my breath catches. I lied. I wasn’t sorry I kissed him but I was sorry it ruined our friendship. Damnit.

“You’re impossible.”

“I thought I was the real thing?” I ask without thinking.

Slightly healed, but still bruised foot, directly in mouth!!!

“Impossible things can be real,” Harry’s mood changes. He stands taller and he takes a step towards me. “Do…do you want us to just move on?”

I don’t know how to answer that.

“I…we live right next to each other Harry. It’s-“

“Unconventional but not impossible.”

“Impossible.”

“But it can still be real.”

I can’t help it. I grin at how serious he was being with his play on words. He was serious about this though. It scared me a little.

“A date.”

“What about it?” I ask.

“We go on a date, see how things are. It they’re weird we go back to friends like we always were. If it’s good…”

“Okay. How about Friday?” I wanted this as much as it seemed like he wanted it. Dating was hard, apps were impossible. This good and kind man standing in front of me was impossible and real.

“Friday’s perfect. Wednesday would be even better.”

“Today is Wednesday.” I say before realizing what he meant.

“It is.”

“Okay. Pick me up at 7?”

“I’ll be on time.” Harry’s grin is contagious.

“Great.” I watch him walk back to the door.

“One favour?” He asks. I ask him what it is. “Wear something pink?”

“Most definitely.” My heart surges and I feel seen. So seen.

I think he was the real thing too. Impossibly real. And possibly something more than neighbourly friends.

Excited and hopeful were an understatement. I couldn’t wait.

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #one shot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #fic #impossibly real #i’ve been writing a little again #most of my stuff is angsty and annoying so #heres the fluffier piece lol

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