#but its been sitting in my drafts for days and its not getting any better

[faeryarchives]

in sickness and in health

knowing that being the only student aside from grim in such dormitory, it's hard to take care and clean the place while you are sick and grim is panicking in the corner crying and asking them if you were dying or something so it's time for your lover to do something! note: this has been in my drafts since last year so if there is a prompt similar to mine it is pure coincidence + this is pretty long

recent fics: when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace x reader) & don't lose me, not yet & its you, it always has been you

-‘๑’- tried to cook and clean for you but ends up in a disaster: everything was going well bc they got a list on what to do because they came prepared and ready to help! but it all became blurry but somehow them getting in the kitchen to cook made you rise from the grave (aka from bed) not risking fire hazard today 👋 picking up a broom? they know how to use one to clean of course but it ends up piling the dust near you causing you to cough some more because they keep colliding with grim who is trying to help 😔 they deserve an award for trying their best 👩🏻‍⚖️ while they weren't allowed in the kitchen, they try telling you of stories that happened while you were absent in attempt to help you get better until you fall asleep listening + leaving a kiss on your forehead before going back to their dorm to ask help or tips on what to cook for you to get better 🤍

— riddle roseheart, deuce spade, KALIM AL ASIM, rook hunt, lilia vanrouge

-‘๑’- scolds you for overworking yourself while taking care of everything: they are going to appear at your doorsteps in complete personal protective equipment with alcohol spray and a basket full of cooked food inside ... well maybe most of them would + expect some nagging from them like you shouldn't neglect yourself just to take care of others because that's not how it works love 🤬 ! even though they appear strict they are still soft when it comes to you asking them for something like giving them a hug (they would probably not do it though) or asking for seconds 🧚‍♀️ + reluctantly sings you a lullabye and after you fall asleep they would finally let down their tough persona + sit next to your bed holding your hand in theirs and caress your head, you are a tough cookie right? so go beat the sickness out of your system because they already miss your company

— jade leech, jamil viper, VIL SCHOENHEIT

-‘๑’- having a crisis: its either they never get sick or doesn't know how to take care of someone who is sick 😷 don't even joke about you dying because of your fever because it will just cause more panic please be easy on them 😭 but they will try to ask their close friends on what to do and they will do it very carefully (bonus if you were the one helping them) and they are actually good at it justtt very confused if they are doing it correctly + type to note down any changes in your fever whether it got better or worse 📝 they will shower you with things that would make you feel better - feeling cold? you can find yourselves being wrapped like a sushi with two thick blankets. feeling lonely? he knows he cannot be that near to you so he will shower you with plushies from who knows where! they won't leave until you are up and healthy again even if it means staying at ramshackle and even tending to grim

— sebek zigvolt, azul ashengrotto, IDIA SHROUD, malleus draconia

-‘๑’- gets sick with you: they know you are sick but they couldn't resist you asking for cuddles 🧍🏻‍♀️at first they would be like "no are you crazy, i don't want to get sick" but after the second one, they find themselves right next to you being the lucky plush toy for the day 🫂 will occasionally try to feed you and make you take your medicine and even alarming every 4 hours to drink but will ultimately result to the two of you falling asleep until grim wakes you up around night time realizing now TWO OF YOU are now sick 🤒 took the couple goals to the next level so expect them to be clingy because nothing is stopping them from cuddling you when he is also sick 🧍🏻‍♀️ it ends up with either trey, ruggie or jade nursing the two of you back to health 😭

— ace trappola, cater diamond, leona kingscholar, floyd leech

-‘๑’- does it perfectly: they had done it before and they will do it again 👯‍♀️ they are pretty used to taking care of someone because sometimes their family members would get sick and they are also the one taking care of them + read parenting 101 atp 🫂 being familiar in the field, they could even task grim in the way he would understand like taking note of your temp and check if it is time for your meds while your lover would go and cook meals suitable for your situation and i think they wouldn't really be so hard on you because being sick is normal and you are just human after all 🤍 instead they would focus on making you feel bettter and believe me you ARE SPOILED ROTTEN 🥺 they would probably tease you with things you can't eat but will give you just a tiny bit and will promise to give you everything when you are feeling better 😍 they are the type that will ask your classmates what they have done during your absence and collect your notes for you so just focus on healing 🫶

— epel felmier, silver, trey clover, ruggie bucchi, jack howl

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst imagines #faeryarchives #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #twst scenarios #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #heartslabyul #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #savanaclaw #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #jade leech #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #octavinelle #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #epel felmier x reader #idia shroud x reader #a.twst

[inumkii]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ idiots to lovers - yuta okkotsu x reader

bullet point scenario

genre: fluff!! idiots to lovers (obviousllyyy)

wc: 1.3k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n: i figured it was better if i posted this instead of letting it sit in the dungeon (my collection of drafts that’ll never see the light of day)

okiee yuta timeee

i love annoying misconceptions and (falsely) heartbroken pining

the way i see it is that yuta strongly admires maki’s strength and resolve that, to you (who’s hopelessly pining after him), it can get mistaken as romantic ..

and it doesn't help that panda likes to be annoying about the two of them together ,,, it just all deflates your mood a little bit whenever you see them together 

and you know you have no right to be sulking about this,, maki and yuta are your friends.. it shouldn't matter if they did like each other,, it's not something you could control

but you just desperately wish that yuta could look at you with the same level of admiration that he has when he talks to maki about sparring or whatever it may be

hell, he could barely look you in the eyes

it makes you a little sad seeing everyone’s friendship with yuta develope rapidly throughout his time at jujutsu tech,, but when it comes to conversing with you, things still feel a little different 

its not like you two are merely acquaintances! you wouldn't hesitate to call okkutsu yuta a friend of yours,, but it's a simple relationship. not much complexity beyond your conversations during missions or gojo’s lessons

unfortunately for the both of you, you’re unaware of yuta’s affection for you

the reason why he doesn’t look at you with the admiration you wish for is because he can’t even look you in the eyes without getting too flustered ….

poor boy

he’s definitely gained a lot more confidence after joining jujutsu high, but it's still not enough to muster up enough courage to ask you to lunch or even have an in depth conversation without him getting too red in the face

he doesn’t know why you have this affect on him,, his previous relationship had been so easy- then again the carelessness of childhood was not a luxury he has anymore. though it was simpler, he knew he didn't have the mental capacity at such a young age to be overthinking shit like he does now

to add on, your friendship with toge has him struck with the familiar worries that you experience with maki

catching a glimpse of the spectators during his spar from the field, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed when he sees you seated a little too close to inumaki up on the bleachers. 

“how long have yn and toge been friends?” he questions maki in the midst of their spar as he blocks her oncoming attack

“oh those two? just as long as we all joined jujustu high” maki switches to the defensive as yuta charges forward. yuta moves to strike her but maki smirks, “though i think they oughta start dating sooner later”

her words cause yuta to freeze for a split second and she shoves him to the ground, effectively placing herself on top of him. she holds her staff to his neck, signaling her win. one point for maki

she laughs in victory before lowering her voice back to her previous volume.

“i was kidding, by the way. there’s definitely no feelings between them” she helps the defeated (and visibly embarrassed) boy off his feet, “clearly there are for the two of you, however”

she struts back toward you, panda, and toge to retrieve her water, leaving yuta a flustered mess on the ground

and in that whole instance, you hadn’t heard any of that conversation 

you had been leaned up against toge murmuring your complaints so panda, mediating the fight ahead, couldn't hear you

“they look good together” you say in self sabotaging pity

toge only shakes his head and disagrees

“okaka”

you’re sure he’s just doing this to make you feel better about yourself

“shes so pretty,, how couldnt he like her” you wail pathetically. toge is so fed up with this but its not he can just tell the other side how you felt (he would never rat you out like that though),, but hes certain yuta likes you back and that you're over analyzing him too much

he places a hand on your shoulder and waits for you to look up at him

the expression on his face tells you clearly, ‘you need to stop’

you sigh. toges right, he always is- but it still doesn’t do anything to quell your fears

and low and behold! your thoughts are interrupted by maki’s victory laugh. she was on top of him, rendering him unable to move

god you wished that was you………

you bury your head in your hands in utter frustration and groan. this is the worst feeling- you know you’re being stupid but jealousy is a disease and you’re dying over here!!

yuta swaps out with panda, who was waiting eagerly to fight the victor 

he joins you guys up on the bleachers, seating himself beside toge. he quickly notices your distressed figure

“is,, everything alrigjt?” he asks tentatively 

to his dismay, toge answers for you with a hum. this causes yuta to be a little peeved when it's him answering in your place- he tries to ignore it

you and inumaki seem way closer than you would ever be with him,,

but to yuta’s delight and your demise, toge stands up from between you (he doesn’t think he can stand to be sandwiched between the pining idiots anymore)

your blonde friend lets out a noise, motions to the line of water bottles at the bottom of the bleachers, and promptly leaves

yuta takes this opportunity to scoot himself closer to you, who’s still slumped over + wallowing away

“what were you two talking about?” he asks, trying to gauge why you’re sulking

you have to choose your words carefully. you couldn't just tell him you’re upset over something trivial like his spar with maki

“i’ve just been frustrated” you mumble vaguely

“frustrated?” he inches closer to you, trying to mimic toge’s proximity from before. he questions you with the utmost sincerity

“yeah. sorry i dont really know how to elaborate” you lift your head, deciding to stop staring holes into your shoes. you’re trying so hard to make this conversation not awkward- but your short answers don’t help your case at all.

“its alright, you dont have to talk about it if you dont want to” 

if there's one thing you love about okkotsu yuta, it was how sweet he is

for the first time in the last hour or however long you had all been out on the field, you let out a genuine smile

“thank you yuta, i appreciate you” 

his ears turn pink within a split second but nevertheless, he reciprocates your smile

the problem with conversing with you is that most of your conversations were too short

he could get so lost in your smile at times he finds himself silent, forgetting to carry on whatever you were talking to him about

this time he manages to snap himself out of it

“did you wanna hang out after practice? i mean- if you’d rather be alone right now that's fine to!” he knows he left the option to decline open but he hopes you didn't take him up on the latter,,

“that sounds nice.” you’re biting back a stupidly large grin 

neither of you notice that maki and pandas fight had already concluded or that inumaki had been gone a suspiciously large amount of time to just grab a drink of water 

makis smiling at the two of you up in your own world while toge almost sighs in exhaustion, 

“sujiko” 

(finally)

being around the two of you was quite a taxing event for them both

panda, on the other hand, is finally catching on- eyes shifting back and forth between you and yuta and his friends at the bottom of the bleachers in disbelief

it was an unspoken understanding between toge and maki that they should avoid panda becoming aware of the sprouting couple to avoid some- awkward comments, though he meant well

well, there’s no hiding it anymore with the two of you hopelessly blushing at each other + toge and maki’s shared smirks

before panda could say anything to disrupt the moment, his two friends were already dragging him off the field to avoid him opening his big mouth

“they wont notice we’ve left” maki says with a chuckle

“salmon”

#yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu fluff #yuta okkotsu x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #yuta x reader #yuta okkotsu scenarios

[mingirn]

only lovers alive

song mingi x reader

synopsis: you return back home after graduating college to a new relationship you have to navigate with your childhood best friend

warnings: smut, a lot of mentions of sexual acts, drinking, insecurities, jealousy, dirty talk, phone sex, sort of (very brief) exhibitionism, gender neutral reader

word count: 20,3k

notes: hello. i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 1-2 years and saw a tweet that said ”i’d pick you up from the airport in every universe” and decided to let this out of jail bc of that. although the fic itself is inspired by this song. fic title comes from this song. i’m gonna schedule this to post while i’m asleep because i’m terrified to post after not being on here for such a long time. please be gentle with me >:(

It’s dark outside your window, but the streets are lit up by countless glimmering lights. Even though the day is turning into night, there’s still plenty of traffic. Beaming headlights join the streams of light from street lamps, and it’s just your apartment that is missing a glow from a lamp on its windowsill. You’ve got all yours packed up and sent away already, and you’re taking in the city for the last time.

”Are you going to miss it?” Mingis's voice is soft on the other end of the phone. You’ve got him on speaker, lying right next to you.

”I guess, yeah. It’s been nice, even though I haven’t spent much time exploring or enjoying the city.”

It’s true. You’ve just finished your last semester and finally graduated after moving hours away from your hometown to go to your dream school. It feels like eons since then, when you had to say tearful goodbyes to your friends and family and settle down in a cramped little dorm room. You’d been lucky enough to get student housing in your last year, a bigger place where you’d been living for the past two semesters. This city wasn’t just a stark difference to your hometown, it was the definition of complete and total opposite.

The town you grew up in was the type to hide, not really forgotten, just barely there. Small and tucked away between long stretches of forests and fields. You’d be blessed to live there your whole life, yet lucky to get away. You’d go home to visit during summer break and just bask in how simple life was back home, but beyond all, how it was still home to all the things you held most dear. Top of that list: Mingi.

”You’ll always be able to go back, maybe we can go during the summer and you can take me to that Chinese place you’ve talked so much about,” Mingi says. He’s starting to sound a little sleepy, and it’s a reminder that you should probably get to sleep soon. You’ve got an early flight to catch, then it’s just a span of a few hours separating you and Mingi. He’ll be coming to pick you up, so you suppose you better let him go too so he can get some sleep.

”You know I’d love that,” you smile, and slump down on your bed. ”I think we should head to bed though, maybe we should leave this future talk for some other time.”

He hums in agreement, and the line goes quiet for a minute. You can hear his breathing through the speaker, slow and steady. When you close your eyes it’s almost like he’s here.

”Hey, uh,” he begins, and he swallows audibly. ”Do you think it’s gonna be weird?”

Ah, there it is. You’ve almost been waiting, expecting, him to ask it.

”No, I don’t… It’s not like we haven’t seen each other since I moved away. We’ve spent almost all of the last three summers together, right?” you reason. It’s not really what Mingi is referring to, but you have to start somewhere. Soften him up, reassure him.

”Well yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just different because we weren’t doing those things then, and now it’s… well, different.”

”Mingi,” you say with firmness in your voice. ”It would only be different if you said and did all those things just because it was over the phone. If you didn’t mean any of it.”

Mingi takes another moment of silence, and you can imagine that he’s probably chewing nervously on his bottom lip. It makes you a bit nervous as well, the fact that you can’t see him. You’d always been so good at reading his face and figuring out what he was thinking. You need that more than ever now, the ability to read him, because so much has changed.

”I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said,” he says, and something about the words feels so heavy and serious, and he seems to realize it too. ”I really, really want to fuck you, not just over the phone.”

Mingis voice is normal when he says it, not a hint of underlying desire or desperation, but the words themselves send a flash of warmth through your body. It’s become regular at this point, this shift in your friendship. The first time you guys crossed over that invisible line had been under the influence of alcohol, you had come home drunk from the bar after celebrating good test results with some friends and Mingi had been celebrating getting a new job with your mutual friends back at home. It just sort of happened, you dialing his number and gushing about how much you missed him. The conversation went on for half an hour when you started trying to undress from your bar clothes and Mingi had asked what you were doing. He’d asked about what you were wearing, and what color your underwear was, then he informed you that he was just in his boxers, and for some reason you found yourself telling him about how sexually frustrated you had been lately in hopes that he’d offer help. And he did.

That first night it was quick and needy, neither of you initiated it, it just happened in perfect symbiosis. You checked the call log the day after and saw that you guys had been on the phone for hours, the last of which you had both eventually fallen asleep on call until your phone battery died. Tentatively, you had called him during the afternoon and asked him if he had any recollection of yesterday night's events. His voice had been raspy and breathy, throat raw from drinking and moaning, and you can still remember every inflection in the tone of his voice when he asked if you had liked it. That had been the start of it all, of an almost full year of phone sex, sexting, and swapping pictures.

”I’m glad to hear that,” you say, trying to sound just as casual even though you can feel butterflies swirl through your stomach. ”I really can’t wait, Mingi. Can’t wait to fuck you and can’t wait to see you, I’ve missed you so much.”

”I’ve missed you too… Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport, just look for a handsome tall guy!”

You fall asleep with Mingis laugh ringing in your ears.

The next day, your plane lands at a far emptier airport than the one you’d set off from. It’s early in the day and the sun is high in the sky, occasionally passing behind weak and thin clouds. The air is so different out here than in the big city. The sounds are clearer, the people are kinder, and everything feels so much more simple here.

You sit on a hard airport bench and wait as your phone connects to the internet after having been turned off, seeing all your missed messages coming in. You’re just about to type up a response to Mingis ’You there?’ when a call from him pops up on the screen.

”Yeah, I’m here!” you chirp into the phone.

”’Here’ where? I’m just walking around and-”

”Mingi, you idiot, turn around!” you call out loud enough for him to hear it on the phone and in person, though he’s quite a distance away from you. You could recognize the back of his head anywhere, even though it’s short and bleached blond right now, it’s undeniably Mingi.

He spins around and spots you right away, making eye contact with you across the big, open space. Seeing Mingi in person for the first time in months washes away all nervosity, all the same as it stirs up a new sense of anticipation. You jump to your feet and you're both rushing towards each other, crashing together in a tight hug.

You find yourself closing your eyes, tucking your head into his chest, and inhaling his scent until it makes you lightheaded. He smells just like your Mingi, that same cologne he’s worn since he was 15, the same laundry detergent, and he smells faintly of sunscreen. It’s not the first time you’ve hugged him, not by a long shot, but it feels like the first time you’ve held him like this. Your arms around his middle, taking note of how big he feels in your hold, and you’re thinking about every little detail you’ve missed out on by being away from him. His warmth, his touch, his size, his voice.

”Hi there,” he murmurs, and his voice is so different up close. It’s deeper and darker, it reverberates through his chest. ”Was the flight okay?”

Something about the conversation he’s initiating makes you feel like now is the appropriate time to pull away, and that in turn has you questioning how appropriate that hug had been on your part. Mingi, however, feels cool as ice when he grabs hold of your bag and slings his arm around your shoulder to guide you out of the airport.

”Uh,” you begin, feeling a bit stumped. You continue, ”It was as good as you can expect, but the food sucked, I can’t wait to get home and eat my mom's cooking.”

”Tired of ramen and takeout?” he asks, chuckling.

”You could say that.”

You try to move on past your own weirdness. Mingi is normal and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be as well. Still, there’s a sort of buzz igniting under your skin from being in Mingi's presence again. You suppose it’s always like that, this initial excitement of seeing each other again and getting to update each other on all the things you’ve been up to while knowing you’ve got all the time in the world to hang out. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of your head that is frantically going through all the conversations you’ve had with Mingi on the phone. Late at night, underneath your covers, with Mingi moaning and speaking filth on the speaker. It doesn’t match up with the Mingi in front of you, the Mingi that has been your closest friend for years, and it makes you feel electric.

Mingi pops his trunk open and you load your bags into his car, then get inside and start the half-hour drive back to your hometown.

You only dare to steal little glances over at him. Watching him in the rearview mirror, seeing the sun set his brown eyes ablaze and paint his skin golden. His fingers strum along to the song on the radio on the steering wheel, he’s wearing a single ring on his right hand and his skin is already tanned even though summer has just begun. It’s almost like you’re meeting him all over again with the way you’re soaking in every inch of him, yet it’s forcefully clear to you that none of this is new. Perhaps that would have made it easier if he had just been a stranger where the slate was clean, but this is Mingi and there are things you’re both gonna need to navigate.

You’d foolishly expected that he’d lean in and steal at least a kiss but perhaps more right away, when you were still parked at the airport. More accurately, you had hoped so. It’s all you guys had been talking about for the past months, all the ways you’d want to ravage each other when you finally were face to face again. Apparently, Mingi thinks that can wait.

So you turn your head away, try not to look over at him or imagine his hand holding your thigh instead of the steering wheel. Instead, you focus your attention on the trees outside, and Talking Heads on the radio.

”Do you still like this song?” Mingi asks you. He takes a turn, and this is where the road gets lonesome and there’s more nature than buildings. The song playing is ’This Must be the Place’, and you know Mingi is asking because you’d been the one that bought him this CD for his birthday.

”I could never outgrow Talking Heads, you know that,” you smile at him. You’re starting to settle in now. The fields and the trees are so familiar, the air smells like your childhood, and Mingi is humming along to music you’ve listened to for years. You can do this, it’s not going to be weird, it’s still your best friend Mingi.

The ride back home starts to fill up with idle chatter. You’d think that you’d have run out of topics to talk about by now, seeing as you’d talk on the phone almost every day, but you still find new things to bring up. He parks his car in the driveway outside your house and helps you carry your luggage, all while giggling and joking with you.

It’s only been a year since you’ve been home, you hadn’t been able to come during Christmas, but that’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent away from this very house. Not much has changed, your parents have kept your room exactly like you had left it, but something just feels different. It feels smaller, or you feel bigger. You catch a glimpse of Mingi in your doorway as you start unpacking your bags and for a second your abdomen flutters when you notice just how much of the door opening he can shield with his body. He has filled out a lot, and this shouldn’t be a surprise because you’d noticed it plenty of times before when you came home to visit. You suppose it’s not a surprise, but it’s the first time you’ve felt appreciation for it.

Of course, you had fantasized about his body since you entered his whole thing, and he had sent a lot of pictures that had helped you out with that, but seeing it in person is an entirely new ordeal. You feel your face heat up as your mind flicks through memories of pictures he’s sent you of himself naked, knowing what he looks like underneath his clothes. You have to wonder if Mingis mind is running in the same circles, if he’s as hyperaware of your skin as you are of his, and how he’s able to contain himself as well as he does if that’s the case. You hardly can’t.

”So,” Mingi begins. Your stomach lurches and plunges every time he pauses between words, fearing what may come next. Maybe this is when he breaks your heart and tells you he can’t do what you’ve been speaking about, that it’s just not the same when you’re face to face. You try to seem unbothered by your racing thoughts and decide to hear him out first. He continues, ”Uh, what now? Do you need any more help?”

”No, I’m all good, Mingi,” You’re rifling through clothes and belongings, lining them up on your bed. You can physically feel him behind you in your room as if he’s radiating this electricity and warmth that has your skin tingling.

”Maybe I should get going then. You know, to let you settle in.” You can hear him shift his weight between his feet. It suddenly feels unbearably awkward and strained between you two, and you know that if you keep your back to him it will only get worse. You need to face this head-on, cut through the tension, or at least pretend like the heavy atmosphere isn’t weighing you down.

You don’t want to let Mingi leave like this, without either one of you addressing things. If he leaves like this, with things unspoken and forgotten, the next time you see him it will be like nothing has ever happened. He’ll be right next to you but somehow further away than ever.

You guess you shouldn’t have expected to jump each other's bones the second you saw each other. Maybe that was unrealistic, but it had just felt that way on the phone. You suppose this is more natural, maybe you just have to stick it out until you’re used to being in the same room.

This Mingi in front of you is an entire world different than the one you’d grown up with. Despite the fact that everything is the same, that he’s in your childhood room and the sun is shining through the window just the same. The beam of light illuminates him directly, making his tan skin radiate.

You’re admiring him when he steps forward and closes the distance between you. Only the birds are singing outside your window, but in the total silence of your room, you can hear Mingi suck in a shaky breath before he leans forward and kisses you.

Time stills, the earth feels like it’s tilting or tipping, as if the very makeup of the universe is now irreversibly changed. Mingis mouth is warm and gentle but he’s keeping a pressure that has your mind whirling, just the way he’s kissing you with so much intent. You’re both breathing heavily and the air escaping his nose is so sweet that you can’t stop yourself from inhaling as much as possible, dizzying yourself to consume every bit of him that you can.

He’s already close, but he shuffles even nearer without breaking apart from the kiss. You can now feel his body against yours and Mingi moves his hands up to hold each side of your head, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks into your mouth. For some reason you’re so very present inside your head, thinking about each little detail of the way he kisses, reminding yourself to remember this moment forever.

You can feel when he starts to pull away so you chase after him, deepening the kiss for another second before he parts from it entirely. He’s just as breathless as you are, and there’s something in Mingi's eyes that you’ve never seen before. He focuses on your lips and leans in for another kiss that ends a moment too quickly.

Mingis hand ruffles your hair up, and his voice is laced with a laugh when he says a drawn-out ’bye’ and leaves your room.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, can hear the blood pumping and wooshing from it all the way through your body, throughout each delicate vein in your ears. Your lips are tingling when you reach up to touch them, almost in disbelief at the fact that Mingi had just been kissing you right there. Your mouth is slick with his spit, and your finger moves cardinally to gather it up and plunge into your mouth so you can savor it.

You fall down on the bed, staring up at your ceiling, and close your eyes to relive the kiss as you imagine what it will be like the next time you see Mingi.

Almost a full week passes until you see him again. Your family practically swarms you for the first few days, your parents being overjoyed to have you back invite your grandparents to welcome you home and your favorite aunt comes to see you with your two young cousins. You get unpacked quickly enough, when you manage to find time between family visits and long drawn-out meals, and before you know it five days have passed. Mingi stays busy too though, he sends a few occasional texts about work and though he lives right across from you, you never even catch a glimpse of him.

Sometimes you lay in your bed at night and feel your heart race up at the thought that there is only a few yards of grass and asphalt road between the two of you. It’s a massive change from the last three years when you had been miles and miles apart. Now, it feels almost like you can sense him. Just across the street, breathing and shuffling in bed. You can picture him so well, long eyelashes resting against his cheekbone, his skin flushed from sleep, his long limbs tangled up in a thin blanket. Your hand slips inside your underwear with a hot fire fueled by embarrassment and insecurity burning in your stomach.

Your imagination moves between recollections of words he’s spoken and pictures he’s sent, to the image of him in his bed right now. He’s so very close, but so very unaware of how much that precise fact affects you. Each day away from him only tightens the strings in your body and you grow more frustrated that you haven’t actualized any of the promises you’d made on the phone. At the same time, you find yourself quietly thankful for the imposed distance. Mingi isn’t even here, but he still has such an impact on you that it has you rushedly getting yourself off with your face buried in your pillow to keep quiet.

You’re so deeply affected by all this, while Mingi is fine. You’re the one busy, but when Mingi comes home from work and has some downtime he doesn’t even text to see if you can spend time. Seemingly, he doesn’t care to find out when you can see each other again.

On day six you’re sitting in your garden with your mom and aunt. Your cousins are playing in the grass in front of you and calling for your attention. The sun is high and hot in the sky, and Mingis car has been home for a few hours. You’ve checked your phone multiple times to make sure it’s not on silent, or if you’ve somehow missed a text from him, but it’s been quiet all day.

Then, a car pulls up to Mingi's house. You recognize it in an instant, it’s Yunhos old Camaro that he had inherited from his dad when he got his license, the same car he’d posted a thousand pictures of on social media. He had even let you drive it for an entire block two summers ago. The paint job has sparkles of blue in it that glimmer in the sun, and you somehow feel like it’s taunting you. The front door of Mingis house opens and he emerges in a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt that he has cut the sleeves off of, and he’s got a pair of sunglasses sitting on his face. A feeling worse than rejection rushes through you when Yunho rolls down the window and waves to you, finally prompting Mingi to also notice you sitting there.

Mingi raises his hand to wave but the movement is cut shorter than Yunho's enthusiastic full-bodied gesture. Mingi gets in the car and the engine roars as Yunho drives away. The warm air feels bittersweet when it’s filled by the smell of exhaust fumes.

That night you’re lying in bed and you’re inching close to sleep when your room lights up for a second. In the haze of sleep, you assume it to be the headlights of a car, but it happens again until the stream of light persists entirely and you finally get up to look outside your window. It’s clear instantly where it’s coming from because Mingi is hanging halfway out his window with a flashlight in his hand.

Though he’s quite a distance away, you can see him well enough to tell that he’s shirtless and his hair is messy, but your focus is pulled from that to trying to decode what gesture he’s making with his hand. You shrug, and he disappears from his window for a few seconds before he pops back with his phone and starts pointing to it.

You search for your phone and open it to find 4 missed calls from Mingi. His contact picture pops up on your phone and you hurry to answer.

”What the fuck, Mingi?” you whisper into your phone.

”Were you sleeping?” he chuckles, and you can see his shoulders shake with laughter. Every little bit of this makes you want to hang up, or scream, or march right over to his house and have a go at him. How dare he go days without speaking to you, then call you up in the middle of the night and laugh as if you haven’t been in agony this past week? How dare he kiss you breathless in this very room and make no attempts at reliving it?

”No, I was just about to fall asleep!” you huff.

”Why are you whispering?” Mingi asks.

”Because my parents are asleep, dumbass.”

”Hm,” he ponders. ”So that would be a no if I asked you to sneak out and come over?”

You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch at the thought that he wants you to come over in the middle of the night.

”Of course, it’s a no! My mom is already peeved because of Yunho coming by earlier today. She hates how loud that car is. She’s gonna think you’re a bad influence, riding around in that and making me sneak out.”

”Imagine her reaction when she finds out you drove that car before you got your license, and I wasn’t even there. It was all Yunho,” Mingi jokes.

”Shut up! God, my mom has been warning me about him for years. She used to be convinced I was going to end up with him and it was her biggest nightmare,” you say. Your window is cracked to let in some air now that it’s cooler outside. The night is quiet, and all you can hear is Mingi breathing at the other end of the call. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can see that Mingis face is scrunched up.

”You and Yunho?” he scoffs. ”Why would she think that?”

”I don’t know, it’s not like she had any reason to. She’s just weird like that, you know how my mom is.”

It’s silent yet again, Mingi just sighing.

Your stomach does a somersault when a thought strikes you and you have to ask, ”You’re not jealous, are you?”

”Jealous? Of- of Yunho?” Mingi laughs breathlessly. You just hum, and you can’t take your eyes off of him where he’s sitting in his window. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and regains his voice, ”I have no reason to be jealous of him when I’m the one with your nudes in my phone.”

Something about that makes you curl up on yourself, suddenly feeling very shy that you’re only in your underwear and a thin old tank top. It brings up another thought that has plagued you. The pictures you’d sent were all meticulously posed and manipulated to be as appealing as possible. It had been your body, yes, but the most perfect version of it possible. Here, in your pajamas with your skin glistening from sweat, hunched over yourself, you hardly think Mingi can find any resemblance between the picture-perfect version and the one in front of his eyes.

”Oh yeah?” you murmur. You can’t let him see you falter, can’t let him call your bluff. You straighten your back and pretend to be more interested in something under your nails. ”You could have a lot more than just pictures, you know.”

Mingi lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a breath, just audible enough for his phone to pick it up.

”Fuck, look at me,” he says, and you do. You just do.

Mingi stands up, keeping his phone pressed to his ear with one hand while his free hand moves in a long, slow caressing motion down his upper body. It’s your turn to feel jealous now, stupidly jealous of Mingis own hands for getting to touch him. His fingers reach the waistband of his boxers and you nervously stop breathing as you imagine them dipping inside. His hand moves just a bit further down though, where Mingi wraps his entire palm around his dick.

”Can you see that?” he asks. He uses his hand to move his hard cock under the light material of his underwear, making sure to jut his hips out towards the moonlight so you can see every second of his show.

”I can see you, oh my god. Are you out of your mind? Mingi, what if-”

”No one’s around, no one’s gonna see except for you,” he assures you. You lick your lips, thinking back to what Mingis mouth had tasted like.

”You’re crazy,” you whisper to him.

”You make me crazy,” he says with a smirk. ”Would you lift your shirt up for me?”

Your fingers have dug into your thigh without you noticing until now that Mingi is directing attention to your body. There’s so much tension inside your body that your breathing feels labored as if there are coils fastened inside you and everything Mingi says and does tighten up every bit of your internal structure. He has you feeling lightheaded with words alone.

Sensing your hesitance, Mingi speaks again. ”You don’t have to, I just really want to see you.”

The last sentence has you moving without thinking, getting up on your knees on the seat under your window. You take a quick glance around the street and in the windows of nearby neighbors. The whole world is asleep, only you and Mingi are awake.

You use your free hand to pull your tank top as high as possible, exposing your stomach and chest to Mingi who has stopped touching himself and is keeping razor-sharp focus on you.

”You-… Thank you, you’re gorgeous, do I ever tell you that?” Mingi’s voice is low and hushed. Until now he has sounded loud and confident, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that Mingi has gotten shy. He probably didn’t expect you to follow through with his request.

You haven’t spoken in minutes and you’re not sure if you could make any noise without it coming out as a whine, but luckily Mingi speaks up once more.

”Can you get into bed? I’m gonna lay down, please join me, please, would you touch yourself with me?” Mingi pleas. He waits a second for the words to register, for you to spring into action before he does so himself. Part of you wants to stay and keep drinking in the sight of his body, but the expectations of what he’s going to have you doing has you obeying his words.

”I’m in bed now,” your voice is still hushed, and there’s a layer of excitement in it that brings on a wave of embarrassment.

”I am too, I’m gonna- I’m taking my underwear off. It’s been so long, I just need to…” Mingi trails off. His end of the call is muffled, and a little distorted, and you can hear him shuffling to get his boxers off.

”It’s been so long since what?” you ask to clarify.

”Since we last did this, since I last came…” he answers. Fuck.

”Have you not been cumming since we last had phone sex?”

Mingi quiets down for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh.

”Have you?” he asks with a tone in his voice you can’t make out, but it has your cheeks heating up and your entire body running ice cold.

You turn silent now, but it’s clear from how Mingi is laughing under his breath that he doesn’t need an answer from you to know the truth.

”Oh my god. Well, tell me then, how many times have you made yourself cum since our last call?” Mingi asks. He sounds so cocky, so full of himself that you don’t know whether to roll your eyes or shove your hand between your legs and revel in this stupidly hot version of Mingi.

”Maybe two or three times,” you mumble, hoping that he doesn’t catch it.

”Let's just pretend I believe that. What have you been thinking about?”

You whine, feeling your entire body surge with shame and humiliation. Despite all of it, you’ve bunched up your blanket between your legs and without thinking about it you’ve started rutting against it slowly.

”Mingi, please…”

”Tell me.”

”I think about you. I always do. I’ve been thinking about that kiss, and-…” Your thought is interrupted by a sound on the other end of the line, along with Mingis soft hums. ”Mingi, are you jacking off to me telling you I fantasize about you?”

”I’m jacking off to your voice,” he says so matter of fact it knocks the air out of you. He continues, ”The fact that it’s about me only makes it better.”

”Oh my god,” you sigh, closing your eyes and letting your hand move where you need it most. Mingis voice is sweet and gentle as he moans with each stroke, and his phone is so close to his mouth you’re tricked into believing he’s right next to you, breathing and huffing.

”I wish you were here right now,” he says, sort of under his breath, a little quiet. It feels a little secretive when he says it, like when you were younger and he would have you turn your back to him as he did the same. With your backs pressed together, he would tell you all his deepest secrets, and when you’d turn around again you would both pretend like nothing had happened. It’s a memory you have replayed a lot more recently than ever before, just due to how similar it feels to this arrangement you have with Mingi. As long as you aren’t faced with each other, as long as your backs are turned you can do and say whatever you want.

Instead of sulking about it, you force yourself to play along.

”I do too, I need you so bad,” you whisper, and none of it is a lie.

”Need to see you cum for me, fuck, I need you to make me cum,” he moans. It echoes through your entire head, that moan and those words, and it has you rolling onto your back and pulling your underwear down your legs so you can touch yourself properly.

”You’ll make me cum just by saying that, Mingi,” you say, pathetically so. Something about Mingi has you reaching the edge faster than anything else.

”Fuck, me too. Just hearing you say my name is enough to make me cum right now. I’ve never felt this fucking good,” Mingi groans.

”Mingi,” you let out again, out of pure instinct. ”Mingi, please give me permission to cum, I need it, please!”

He does, in a string of words and breathless moans he allows you to cum with him. Your orgasm rolls through your entire body in a blinding flash, and by the time it’s over you can’t gauge if multiple minutes or just a few seconds have passed. Your phone is pressed so tight to your ear that pearls of sweat coat the screen.

”You there?” Mingis voice is raspy, all fucked out.

You come to, clearing your throat, ”I’m here, sorry. Holy shit.”

”What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. You don’t have time to feel overjoyed or even finish your train of thought (of oh, fuck, it’s finally happening) before Mingi continues, ”Yunho’s throwing this… thing, at his house. There’s gonna be a barbeque, we’re gonna get drinks, and he says it’s going to be chill but you know how he is. It’s gonna end up being a party by the end of the night.”

You’re staring up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers Mingi helped you set up when you were 15, and the answer is so obvious you don’t have to think about it.

”Yeah, I’ll go with you,” you respond.

”Well… I’ll take you, but maybe we shouldn’t make it too obvious when we’re there. All of our friends will be there, maybe it’s best to lay low?”

You clench your eyes shut. It makes you want to scream so loud it’d pierce your wall and travel across the street and through to his bedroom. A week ago he had been so concerned about things turning weird between you two and you’d written it off as a worry about your friendship, about how things would change after all the words and naked pictures you had exchanged. You hadn’t considered for a second that Mingi would be concerned for his reputation.

”Yeah,” you mutter. ”No, yeah, you’re right.”

”Okay then,” he says, so cheerily that you feel shame wash over you. ”I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five then?”

You hum in response and swap goodbyes before he ends the call and the beeps ring through your ear.

Your sleep that night is weighed down by a worry you can't dispel even after you wake up. You hardly feel rested, and your parent's voices barely register when they speak to you at breakfast. A lot of thoughts linger in your head, unshakeable doubts about whether things with Mingi are really going to be as okay as you had thought when you were in school.

Things had felt so much simpler then, like this steadfast belief that it would be just as it had always been. You had returned every single summer and were able to pick back up your friendship with Mingi with no trouble, despite all the months you had spent apart.

At least you would get to see all your friends again. Summer being in full swing would mean that everyone would be at their happiest, most free, possibly stupid, and risky behavior.

The day passes by sluggishly, you're merely counting down the hours. You try to read a book while lying in the sun in your backyard, but find that the words just flow together. You check your phone and see the half-hour call in your log from yesterday night, you’re just staring at Mingi's name and contact picture. It's just letters and numbers on a screen, but it's also a journal of your entire relationship. You can go back and see every single one, remember where things had started and where things had escalated. It took you weeks to send the first suggestive pictures to each other and they had been modest back then. A picture of your dark silhouette in the mirror, and Mingi replying with a blurry picture of his thighs in the dark of his room.

It's just another reminder that what you've got with Mingi is all contained in this piece of technology you can fit in your hand. Nothing is real or tangible, except for a few minutes of kissing. That's all you've got that counts as something; Mingi kissing you in your childhood bedroom for a few very good minutes before departing and ignoring you for days.

The kiss lives vividly in your head as you shower and get dressed.

You're sitting on your windowsill and watching the clock tick closer to five when the front door of Mingis house opens and he walks outside. He's got a pair of sunglasses on that he lifts off of his nose to peek up at your window, and when he spots you he waves and motions for you to come down.

You float down the stairs and out your door. The air is light and breezy outside despite the way the sun has been beaming down all day. Mingi is dressed in yet another shirt that shows off his arms, the slight tan line from his work t-shirt that he tries to even out is obvious to you up close and you squeeze his arm to tease him for it.

Both of you sit down in his car. The windows are rolled down to let air flow through and Mingi sets the car stereo to a low volume so you can faintly hear Tears for Fears play in the background. The engine hums pleasantly in comparison to Yunhos Camaro when Mingi starts the car. You watch his hands, waiting for him to shift the stick into first gear, but it doesn't happen.

Instead, time moves in both directions, very slowly but all too quickly as he wraps his hand around the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. Every single thought that has plagued you throughout the day vanishes the second his lips are on yours. It's replaced by the fact that these same lips had moaned your name less than 24 hours ago, that he had sounded so desperate when he told you he wished you were there.

Mingi deepens the kiss this time, letting it go on for longer than last time. When you have to part from it to take a breath Mingi trails his kisses from the corner of your mouth to under your ear. The kisses are chaste, barely there, but every single one leaves your skin tingling.

He doesn't return to your lips, he pulls back and regains his breath and his smile is so cocky when he reverses the car out of the driveway. You can't help but giggle then, and Mingi turns up the volume to let the music blare through the entire car. This is the Mingi you've missed, the one that drives through your neighborhood and ignores all the grouchy people who turn around and stare disgruntedly. He sings along too loudly, straining his voice to hit notes that sound awful even though you know that he's a great singer.

Everything feels as it always has when you pull up to Yunhos house and there are cars parked up and down the street. Mingi parks and as you're unbuckling your belt you see him look in the rearview mirror, grooming his hair and then wiping his mouth to remove your lip balm. It stings for a second but you don't let it persist. You just get out of his car and the two of you walk towards Yunhos backyard.

There is a voice in the back of your head that reminds you of the distance Mingi puts between you, this very conscious measurement that would leave no doubt for all your friends that you're strictly platonic. You push that away too, and make way towards all your old school friends instead. Seonghwa is the first to pull you into a hug, and it's all you need for the bubble to burst on all your worries.

Soon enough you're all laughing, the backyard is quickly filling with people and Yunho is having a hard time keeping up with all the people demanding a burger. The afternoon air smells just like high school, and the cheap alcohol mixed in the punch is just like the one you used to drink back then. The only difference is that everyone looks so much older, and the conversations have switched from homework, crushes, and drama to future plans and jobs.

"So what now?" Seonghwa asks you when a few hours have passed and the sun is setting. It's not getting dark, the sun is just changing from blue to lilac. You turn to him, feeling the way the alcohol has affected your vision, the way it's swimming a bit.

"What now?" you ask.

"I mean, are you back for good? Are you gonna settle down, get a job, do the whole small-town thing?" he jokes, but the question he poses is a valid one.

"Hm," you ponder for a second, looking up at the sky as if an answer is gonna rain down on you. "I guess I don't know. I need to get a job, but I'll give myself the summer to figure it out. It feels like the last one before things truly.. you know.."

"Change," Seonghwa interjects. "Before we truly grow up."

The conversation quiets for a moment before you both burst into laughter.

"Jesus, we always get so somber, don't we?" Seonghwa laughs.

"Remember prom? We went out for some air and you couldn't stop talking about the universe because you looked up at the stars for a second," you say.

"I don't remember that, I just remember Hongjoong going off on me because I teared up and ruined the makeup he spent an hour doing on me," Seonghwa recollects. You could remember that. You also remembered the eyeshadow Hongjoong had smeared across Mingis's eyelid, the messy dark brown he had lined his eyes with because Mingi refused to stay still for too long.

None of you had brought any dates that night, your entire friend group had decided to just go together and spend the night dancing with each other. When you had gotten a dance with Mingi towards the end of the night his makeup had started running and you had brushed your thumb under his eye. Nothing about that action or the dance, or the night as a whole, had been close to romantic. He had just been Mingi, the same Mingi as always, he walked you home that night with his arm around your shoulder just like he had every day after school.

It's only with the wisdom of hindsight you can identify little actions to speak otherwise. You can't recall what Sans eyes had looked like when you danced with him, but you remember in great detail how the lights had twinkled in Mingi's irises. All you remember from your dance with Wooyoung is that his hands had been too sweaty to hold, but you can go back in your memory to when Mingi had leaned his head on your shoulder and sang along softly to the song that was playing.

"What is it like when you talk to Mingi?" Seonghwa pulls you out of your thoughts. You don't know when your eyes close, but when you open them again the sky is starting to burn a vibrant pink.

"Well... I don't know. It's good. We talk about all sorts of things," you try to sound matter of fact, very casual. Reminding yourself of Mingis words, lay low.

"Yeah, you must," Seonghwa remarks, a chuckle sounding through his voice. It has you turning to him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Meaning?" you question.

"Just that there must be substance to your conversations, seeing as Mingi excuses himself from every night out when you call," he says.

"Yeah," you attempt to brush it off as a meaningless piece of information, but it feels like a lot more. You didn't know Mingi would rush home to talk to you.

Seonghwa hums, and your eyes are pulled to the ground where you've been digging your heel into the grass.

"I guess you guys have always been closer than the rest of us. Living across from each other, being childhood friends, all that," he says. There's no hidden meaning or intention behind his words, you know Seonghwa well enough to deduct that, but it still feels like he's trying to catch you out.

"Yeah," you repeat, absent-mindedly. "Suppose so."

Seonghwas mouth twitches a little as if he wants to say something else, but he keeps it shut. You're thankful, because even if he can read between the lines of your and Mingi's strange relationship, the fact that he doesn't say it out loud serves as reassurance to you. It's the same thin veil that you and Mingi drape yourselves in. Unspoken meaning unchanged.

A friend comes over and offers to top off your and Seonghwas glasses, and you decide to get up on your feet and move on from the sudden gloom that took over.

The music is loud and the air gets chillier as the clouds twist amongst pink and orange. You’re talking to Yunho and telling him the story about your mom's disapproval of his car when he notices your shoulders quiver with the drop in temperature. He fetches one of his flannels for you, helping you thread your arms through and telling you that you need another drink to warm up. Yunho makes you something stronger than the diluted punch, and it goes to your head with haste.

It does warm you up, and it pulls you from reality a little. It’s easier to laugh along with Yunhos jokes this way, without thinking about the tension between you and Mingi. It feels good and safe to just be worriless, to feel the wind in your hair and be surrounded by the sound of your friend's voices mixing together.

Your legs are getting wobblier, but Yunho catches you before you fall and he lets you stay posted against him.

You’re just watching the conversation your friends are having without joining in when you feel two hands on your waist. You don’t have to look back to know that it’s Mingi. The smell of his cologne is familiar enough to alert you.

”I think I better get them home,” Mingis voice is warm and round behind your ear. For a second you feel a little bitter, you kind of want to shake his hands off of you and scoff at him because he’s intervening just when you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself without spending a single thought on him. Is that not what he wanted? You’re keeping the secret, you’re not drawing any eyes towards you two. He’s doing that all on his own.

Had it been three years ago, you think your friends had been protesting your leave. You’re all grown up now though, and everyone is understanding when Mingi wraps his arm around your waist, and you both wave goodbye.

Mingi helps you into his car. Tears for Fears is still playing when he turns the car on and starts driving, and you feel a sort of agitation that you can’t place. He doesn’t speak a single word for a minute or two, and the mood inside the car is unbearable.

”I don’t think anyone could tell,” you say. Mingis face is bare of emotion, and you find yourself with an urge to placate him. ”We did well, don’t you think? I didn’t make anything obvious.”

You don’t know what response you expect to get from Mingi, but there’s a palpable shock within you when he pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to you.

”What?” you ask. Mingis eyes soften when they flick over your entire body, to then end up at your face.

”Did you really.. worry about that?” Mingi wonders softly.

”Huh? I thought-… Yes, I worried about it, because you did. I mean, you told me we needed to lay low.” You’re starting to get thoroughly confused and frustrated.

”I know, but I didn’t think you’d drink so much and cuddle up to Yunho because of it,” Mingi says, his tone quickly working up to a sharpness you’ve never heard in him before.

”Drink so much?” you gasp. ”I was just having fun! It had nothing to do with you! Not everything is about you, Mingi, or about us. I don’t worry about it as much as you do. Believe it or not.”

”I don’t worry about it,” Mingi sounds accused.

”Clearly you do though. You take me to this party and give me instructions on how to behave, then spend the whole time ignoring me. Just like you did all of last week. Clearly, you have to feel ashamed, or- or…” you trail off, feeling your voice crack. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and leans closer, putting his hand on your knee.

”Please,” he urges, and there’s something in his voice that breaks your heart. ”Please, don’t think I could ever be ashamed of you.”

”Then what, Mingi?” you ask quietly, starting to feel yourself break now. Tears are starting to well up and cloud your vision. You continue, ”Do you just not want me? I get if it’s different when we’re face to face, I know it might not be what you expected, I understand if you don’t find me-”

”Stop it!” Mingi is almost shouting now, startling you. ”It’s nothing like that, you have to believe me. Stop saying these things.”

His hand lifts from your knee to hold your face where he wipes away a tear from your cheek. You don’t know what to say, even though there’s a part of you that wants to keep insisting. Mingi isn’t offering any kind of explanation or even an excuse, he’s not saying anything to quell your worries, and his hands on you are not enough.

”Kiss me. Please,” you whisper. There’s more you want to say, like prove it, prove that you want me. Kiss me and mean it.

”I’m not going to kiss you when you’re drunk and I’m sober,” Mingi says, offering up a solemn smile.

”I’m not though,” you argue. This entire conversation has been sobering. You’re still tipsy, your head feels a little heavy and your vision is still floating but you think you can blame it on your tears as much as you can blame it on alcohol.

”Well, you’re drunk enough that I don’t feel comfortable kissing you.” Mingis thumb strokes over your cheek to comfort you. It’s enough to calm you a little, because that you can take. You don’t think you’d want to kiss him either if the roles had been reversed.

”Okay,” you mutter. ”Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want me?”

Mingi sighs, ”We’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re not-”

”I’m not drunk, Mingi.”

”Okay, okay. But I still want to do this tomorrow, when we’re both thinking clearly. We’re just misunderstanding each other, and this isn’t how I wanted it to go,” he tells you. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head instead, just above your hairline. It must be calculated on his part, to kiss you where your skin can’t feel the warmth of his lips.

”Okay,” you say again. This time Mingi lets out a little laugh at your dissatisfaction.

He starts the car back up and takes off to go home, leaving his hand on your thigh throughout the drive. When he pulls up to his house and you get out of the car your legs feel like jelly, and you realize you’re probably not as sober as you’d like to believe.

”Mingi?” you ask. He rushes to your side to hold you up, though that’s not what you meant. ”Can I sleep here tonight? You know how my mom is, she’d flip if she saw me-”

”I wasn’t planning on letting you go home like this, don’t worry,” he laughs.

So, with his arm around your waist, Mingi guides you inside and up the stairs to his room. It’s dark and you have to remind yourself to be quiet to not wake Mingi's family. While he leaves the room to fetch another blanket you sit down on his bed and look around his room.

It’s been a while since you’ve been here but not much has changed. You know for a fact that Mingi is still just as entertained by his action figures now as he had been at 13. It makes you laugh to see them all lined up on his shelf, right next to a couple of books that you had gifted him. He had forced his way through a couple of them and called you to complain about every choice the main character made.

You’re comforted by how much of his room remains the same. This is a place where you can remember and picture Mingi. By his big stereo, switching CD’s. Cutting out pictures of his friends to add to his collage wall.

Mingi comes back to his room with a blanket and a pillow that he throws next to you on the bed.

You’re watching his every move. When his eyes land on you he lets out a sound you can only read as disgust.

”Of course he gave you that,” he complains, more to himself than to you.

You can’t help but follow his line of sight though, finding that he’s looking at Yunhos flannel shirt.

”What’s so bad about it?” you wonder. Being under Mingis gaze always fills you with a sort of insecurity that has you twisting and turning.

”It's like, his move. Lending out his shirt. And then letting you lean on him like that..” Mingi mutters.

”Why would Yunho ever pull a move on me?” you ask incredulously.

”For the same reason I would, I assume,” he says. ”You’re really hot.”

A heat rushes to your abdomen and you can’t meet Mingis eyes anymore. Today has left you feeling anything but desired by him, but you don’t think he’s lying right now. He wouldn’t lie about finding you hot just minutes after refusing to kiss you.

”It wouldn’t matter what Yunho thinks of me. Like you said last night, you’re the one who has my nudes. Right?” you say.

Mingi sits down next to you, looking at his hands in his lap instead of at you.

”What if he wanted more than just your nudes?” he asks. This, too, feels like he’s asking himself the question. And you don’t know what to answer.

You don’t think Yunho poses any threat whatsoever, he’s just friendly and flirty by nature. But you let yourself think about what Mingi is implying for a second. What if he - or anyone else - would want more of you than Mingi does? Someone who could offer you a relationship that wouldn’t require secrecy. Someone who would bring you around his friends and hold your hand for everyone to see. Someone who would properly date you and want a relationship, as opposed to dirty phone sex at odd hours of the night.

You realize you’d always pick Mingi above all that, no matter if you had to have him only partially. If he was never yours.

You open your mouth to respond but shut it again when you can’t find the right words.

Mingi looks over at you. He speaks, ”Can’t you take it off?”

”Take it off of me,” you whisper back.

His mouth twitches into a small smile.

”It’d be a lot sexier if I wasn’t taking Yunhos clothes off of you the first time I undress you,” he still sounds displeased, but his hands work the shirt off of you anyways. He discards it to the floor, as far away as it can come.

”These are all mine,” you say, meaning the clothes you have on. ”You can take those off.”

Mingi lets out a drawn-out breath, something to collect himself. His hands pause at the hem of your top even though you’ve already given consent, waiting for you to nod until he starts pulling it over your head.

Silence permeates in Mingis bedroom as he continues undressing you. It’s just the wind rustling his curtains that disrupts the quiet. He guides you to lie down so he can unbutton your shorts to take them off. His hands are so gentle and his touch is soft, when he has finished taking your socks off and all your clothes are on the floor except for your underwear he leans down and presses a sweet kiss right above your knee.

”Take yours off too, please,” you say softly. He’s not quite as delicate with himself, he doesn’t make a show of it. You can’t help but stare though, trying to really commit this to memory since it’s the very first time you’re seeing him strip for you, even if you know it won’t be followed up with all the things you’ve talked about on the phone.

Your eyes flick all over him, down his toned arms and up his torso as he pulls his shirt over his head, across his broad chest. You watch his fingers work the button on his shorts open, revealing his dark underwear. He’s not hard, at least not fully, and it’s strangely intimate to be so close to his dick for the first time but not in a sexual manner. Everything about it makes your heart feel heavy, you’re somehow aware of each pump of it, how it’s speeding up at the mere sight of Mingi.

Mingi, your Mingi, that hasn’t ever been yours. Not really, not properly, but still somehow.

You want him on top of you so bad, to finally feel him in the ways you’ve dreamt about for a full year. Instead, Mingi climbs in bed with you and pulls you close.

He is soft and warm in all the spots your bodies are connected and intertwined. You fall asleep to the sounds of his breath coming out slow and steady.

You wake to a breeze of air over your face. At first, all you can hear is the chirps of birds outside and the distant noise of cars driving around. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that it’s the middle of the day, the sun is bright in that midday way, bright enough that there isn’t a total blackness even when you screw your eyes shut further.

You just turn around and try to escape from it by burying your face into the pillow. The texture of the pillow feels strange and unfamiliar, and the more you come to you realize it also doesn’t smell like your bedding. It smells like Mingi, you realize, and shoot up in a startle.

You don’t have time to wonder why the bed is empty next to you, because you can hear steps on the stairs and seconds later the bedroom door creaks open. Through a squint you can see Mingi in the same state you remember him falling asleep. In just his underwear he walks up to the bed and sets down a glass of water and a plate, before petting his hand over your hair.

”Good morning,” he greets you, smiling big.

”Mm, yeah,” you hum back, still drowsy. It’s far more comfortable to let your eyes close again and just lean into Mingi's affection.

”You okay? Are you hungover?” Mingi asks.

”Yeah, but not from drinking,” you murmur. ”It’s from you yelling at me.”

”I wasn’t yelling!” There’s an undertone to his voice, an actual worry and fear that you’d be feeling a certain way today after last night's conversation.

”I know you weren’t, Mingi. I’m just messing with you, I remember every bit of that conversation,” you assure him. He lets out a sigh of relief, his thumb stroking over your temple.

”That was going to be my next question,” he tells you. ”So you remember the whole night then?”

You nod your head under his hand.

”Do you want to talk about it?” he asks you.

The question stabs at something inside your sternum. Of course, you want to talk, in reality, there are a thousand times you’ve held yourself back from saying to him and there would be nothing more freeing than telling Mingi all of it. There’s just never a time and place for it though and you’ve come to terms that there never will be. It would take astronomical changes to allow you to say what you want. Yes, Mingi, I’m in love with you and probably have been all my life. Mingi, it took us sexting to make me realize you’re the only one I could ever picture myself with.

You had of course let yourself fantasize a couple of times, but the details of any imaginary and hypothetical relationship between you two would quickly obscure, and Mingi was often a perpetrator in that. It would present itself on days when you lived in the afterglow of a nighttime call. You’d walk on clouds with the memories of Mingi moaning your name, then check social media and be greeted with photos of him with his arm around your lifelong friends and strangers you would get nauseous picturing Mingi talking to. Your name wouldn’t even come up in conversation, he’d appear single to them because after all, he was.

So you wouldn’t often entertain the idea of being something more. You’d just treat it as a passing thought, boil it down to what it was, a neuronal connection gone to grief.

You guess you had hoped to see something in Mingi to completely deny these thoughts. Like, a first kiss that you wouldn’t be able to break away from. Or the moment you finally have sex for the first time and it being this out-of-body experience that ends with both of you crying and confessing your love. Like a scene out of a movie.

You could even have survived the opposite. If the first kiss had gone sour and the spark died before it even ignited. At the very least, you would have an answer to all your questions. Instead of being tethered to this middle ground where there’s an undeniable passion and need for each other, but a considerable distance keeping you apart.

Though there were things you’d want to say, there are none you could verbalize.

”I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, finally. To convince Mingi of this, you open your eyes and roll onto your back so you can look at him. He looks unconvinced, so you continue, ”I think I was just confused and upset. I don’t know why. Maybe because you’ve barely spoken to me since I came back home. I had just… expected more.”

You find yourself surprised that you’re telling the truth. It’s not what you had meant to say, but it’s true and innocent enough. Mingis hand rests on the side of your face, where his fingers fiddle with your hair, and for a second his eyes focus on that, before coming back to yours.

”I don’t have any excuse,” he says. ”I guess I could say that I kept seeing your relatives show up at your house and I thought it’d be rude to whisk you away from all that just to fuck you. But I think the more time passed, the harder it got to..”

”Yeah,” you agree. ”To fuck.”

He smiles at your choice of words and nods.

”Have you not happened to notice I haven’t initiated a single kiss between us, Mingi? I’m nervous too. It’s different in real life. It was much easier on the phone to just do things,” you say.

”Would it make it easier if I told you I’d really like to kiss right now?” Mingi asks.

There won’t ever come a time when the prospect of Mingi wanting to kiss you won’t send a jolt of electricity through each and every vein in your body. Nor will there ever be an instance where you won’t act on that will, especially since it seems that there will be a finite number of them. As you prop yourself up and lean in to kiss Mingi you realize that, along with this being the very first time that you initiate a kiss with him, you’re also one kiss closer to the last kiss you’ll ever have with him.

Because there will be a last time. If you keep going like this there is no other possible outcome, there will simply come a day when Mingis's eyes set on someone else and your arrangement is concluded. There’s not an if, it’s simply a when, and every kiss from now on is going to lead up to that last one. You can’t decide if you should hold out and stave off that last one for as long as you can or fit in as many as possible until then.

All these thoughts disperse when your mouth meets Mingis and he kisses you back. It’s hard to think of anything other than his warm lips or his tongue softly licking against yours. It’s more playful this time compared to the last two, today you’re both feeling each other out and learning what to do, what feels good.

You find yourself out of rhythm at times, the position you’re in is a little awkward, and you fumble through a few kisses to lean closer to Mingi. You feel your stomach swirl when you realize that none of this deters Mingi, that you can in fact feel him smile and breathe out something between a hum and a moan every time you come crashing against his mouth. His big hand comes up to your jaw, long fingers curling around the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

Things get heady so fast with Mingi, he works you up so incredibly quickly, and it’s obvious from the sounds he’s making that he’s just as affected. He doesn’t pull away for a second, his hand keeps your head in place and he continues to clumsily kiss you as he guides you down onto the bed.

The air in Mingi's room is hot from the summer sun shining through his window. It’s not until now you realize that the only thing separating you from Mingis body has been his thin blanket. He starts peeling it away, and it’s then you remember that Mingi had undressed you the night before. A jolt of panic shoots through you now that Mingi can see you, entirely nude except for your underwear, in the warm, bright light of his room. You find comfort in the fact that he’s undressed too, but with Mingis eyes taking you in it’s hard to feel relaxed.

Mingi leans in for a long, passionate kiss, and against your mouth he muffles, ”You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your head is swimming, Mingi keeps on kissing you, getting softer and more careful as he moves down your neck and continues to lavish you with compliments. So pretty, kiss, gorgeous, kiss, breathtaking, kiss. And if you had any doubts, he squashes every single one when he kisses from your collarbone, over your chest and down your stomach, all the way down to your hips.

He plants his hands on each of your thighs, not grabbing or putting any pressure, but you can still feel the weight of them.

”Is this okay?” he asks quietly. He kisses just above the waistband of your underwear, and at the same time, his hands nudge your legs apart. Your breath catches in your throat and you can only nod and let his hands move your legs to where he wants them.

”What about your family?” you ask him, suddenly realizing the reality of where you are.

”No one’s home. It’s just us,” he says. ”So don’t hold back on me please.”

His shoulders are big and broad between your legs. The sun illuminates him so prettily, his tan skin glows, and every little hair on his body is lit up by the sun. The heat has left a thin layer of sweat on his skin and it highlights his muscles in just the right way. He’s just glowing, near angelic, and you’re moved with the need to worship every part of him.

Mingi is still so tender with all his kisses, there’s no sense of rushing as he takes his time by really letting his lips linger. His mouth trails along your entire thigh, stopping now and then to lightly suck your skin into his mouth and have a taste of you. He only falters when he gets to the junction of your thigh, to where your skin is covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You’ve been short of breath for a while now, but when Mingis fingers dip into the waistline of your underwear you cease to breathe entirely. Your head is rushing, watching as Mingis hands pull your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely naked. You’ve sent him pictures before, he knows what every little inch of your body looks like, but Mingi looks at you as if it’s the very first time.

A thousand thoughts whirl through your head between the seconds your underwear hits the floor to when Mingi springs into action. A thousand worries now culminating, whether he’ll realize that it was better over the phone, if he’s disappointed by what he’s seeing, or if he’s repulsed by how aroused you already are.

”You’re,” Mingi begins, stopping to press a kiss at the seam of your thigh. He adds, ”Beautiful.”

His eyes aren’t even on yours, he’s single-mindedly focused on what’s right in front of him. His breath is fanning across your entire crotch, tickling your inner thighs, and as you feel it get closer and closer you instinctively close your eyes and let your head roll back when Mingi finally puts his mouth where you need it most.

He’s still so gentle, using his tongue and lips to tease you and explore what you like best. It feels like hours pass of Mingi lightly sucking and pressing wet kisses all over you, he’s really and truly taking his time and you have to believe it’s for his own sake because he’s only building up a frustration within you.

”Mingi,” you whine, reaching down to grab hold of his hair. It’s an objectively insane feeling, to have his hair in your hand and head between your legs, after all this time of dreaming of it. It’s enough to have you getting close, even though Mingi is still lapping carefully at you, and it's nowhere close enough to what you crave.

When you start bucking your hips against his mouth it’s like he releases all restrain and just goes for it. His hands wrap around your legs at first, pressing them towards his head, to then wedging underneath your ass so he can get all of you into his mouth.

Mingi moans out ”You taste so good” with a mouthful of you at the same time you tell him how good he is with his mouth, prompting him to smirk against your pelvis. It really doesn’t take long for him to learn what gets you closest to the edge, just where he should put his tongue and where to apply some pressure.

”So good, Mingi, you’re so good. Oh my god,” you sigh. You tug on his hair hard enough for your fingers to cramp, and Mingi only moans against you. Every sound you make seems to spur him on further, Mingi only getting more eager with the way he’s circling his tongue around you.

His tongue is getting you closer and closer, your stomach is splitting in two to hold onto the edge and trying not to cum. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that it feels a shame to cum just minutes after Mingis mouth is on you, but there’s no holding back. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush to his face, and the second you lift your head to look down at him between your legs you start orgasming in his mouth.

He understands what’s happening before you do, applying enough pressure to get you over the edge before letting up and licking you slower to help you come down. All while he keeps his eyes on yours, letting your fingers scratch his scalp. Mingi listens to every little noise you make and stops the second your heavy breathing turns into an overstimulated hiss.

”Mingi, Mingi,” you whine. His cheeks are flushed a deep pink and his lips are slick with his own spit and your cum, and you can’t stop admiring him. All you can do is pray that Mingi looks into your eyes and mistakes your all-consuming love as the afterglow of a great orgasm.

He pulls himself up enough to crawl on top of you, and though he’s just spent minutes between your legs, this feels a lot more daunting. He hesitates for a moment as if he’s unsure if he’s allowed to kiss you, so you wrap your hands around the back of his head and pull him towards you.

Mingi is breathing heavily from the effort he’s just put forth, and instead of letting him catch his breath you only grow more desperate. Your hands clammer onto his shoulders, pulling him against you, then down to his waist, and finally around his ass so you can pull him against your core. He’s got his underwear on, but you don’t let it stop you as you grind up against him. He’s hard and you’re still wet with spit and cum, it doesn’t take long before you’ve soaked his boxers and the barrier between you both is practically nonexistent. You can feel every bit of him against you.

”Mingi,” you moan into his mouth. ”Fuck me, please.”

He pulls away and sucks in a deep breath.

”Don’t you want me to… uh, prepare you?” He sounds small and insecure. You watch his brows burrow and his eyes flick across your face, and you’re struck by how much he looks like Mingi. Your best friend Mingi, who you’ve built up in your head as a confident sex god, even though you’ve always been aware that he’s more careful and vary than any other person you know.

You suppose you’d just assume that that version of him would disappear in the bedroom, that he’d be the same as he is over the phone when he’s telling you all the different ways he wants to fuck you.

”I’m- I’m embarrassed to say this, but I’m so worked up you could just slide inside me,” you tell him, and Mingi moans in response.

”Are you sure?” he asks. You pick up motion again, sliding yourself against the entire length of his dick.

”I’m not just sure, I’m begging,” you plea. You hook your fingers into his boxers, trying to tug them down even though you know the position you’re in won’t allow you to undress him. You just need him to act, now, you can’t wait any longer.

It happens fast, Mingi pulling his boxers off and getting back on top of you, to then lining up his dick to enter you.

”Fuck, I forgot how big you are,” you mumble. The sight of him in comparison to you, lined up against you, is enough to make you cum untouched.

This is what you’ve been dreaming about for a whole year, this very moment. For Mingi to push inside you, hook your legs over his shoulders and fuck you until you can’t see straight. Actually being here, with the tip of his dick against your hole, it feels much different. It’s not the actual sex you’re looking forward to, it’s the fact that he’s finally going to be inside you. It feels like you’re claiming him, that the moment is finally here and he’s going to be yours.

”Are you okay? Are you ready? Can I-?” Mingi asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty.

”Please,” you nod.

He starts pushing inside, watching his dick slide with ease until he’s got the entire tip in. The stretch feels amazing, you could take all of him in one go but the fact that he stops and leans down to kiss you as he slowly thrusts his entire cock inside is way better. And god, he kisses you as if he’s not currently buried inside you. His lips barely brush against yours, and the kisses are short and sweet. Finally, he pulls back to watch himself bottom out.

The sun is shining on the side of Mingis face, and this is just not at all how you had pictured it. In your fantasies, there had always been a dark bedroom and Mingis body had been on top of yours, only distinguishable by faint lights outside the window. It was quick, rushed, and dirty, maybe Mingis hand would be clamped over your mouth to keep you from making any sounds since it would have to happen at one of your homes. Sometimes you’d imagine it happening in his car, parked somewhere secluded at night, it would be bumpy and awkward and sweaty and the focus would just be on both of you cumming as soon as possible.

You hadn’t pictured it like this. Like, Mingi looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

His hair is messy from your hands grabbing it, and the sunlight lights it up like a halo. Time feels unmoving, you’re drinking in the sight of him and trying to memorize every small detail.

He starts thrusting carefully and slowly. His back is upright, leaning away from you so he can watch his cock go in and out of you. You can’t stop watching him though. He’s so beautiful, his hair is a mess, and beads of sweat are starting to trickle down his chest. You reach your hands up, caressing his skin.

You wonder if you’re breaking some sort of unspoken rule. The two of you hadn’t discussed or set any boundaries, but when you slide your hands over Mingis chest and stomach, you wonder if you should have. This isn’t just fucking, you’re worshipping him and looking at him with intense adoration. He’s going so slow too, really taking his time. You’re not fucking, this is making love.

”I’ve never felt this good, you feel so good,” he moans under his breath. He curls his hands under your ass, picking you up so he can get better leverage to thrust as deep inside as possible. The new angle makes him groan, ”Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you?”

It has you sobbing with pleasure. Mingis fingers are digging into your flesh, and he fucks you at this torturous pace for tens of minutes. You can truly feel the drag of his dick inside of you, when he bottoms out all the way inside to when the tip of his dick is at your entrance.

”You’re so good, oh my god! So good, you’re so handsome, Mingi,” you praise him, causing Mingi to pick up the speed.

You’re grabbing at his arms and shoulders, trying to pull him down, to get him closer. He lets you down on the bed and leans down, coming chest to chest with you, shoving his arm under your head instead. Your bodies are flush with each other now, Mingis pelvis rubbing against you and getting you close to cumming again stupidly quick.

His mouth is right by your ear, pressing a few sloppy kisses to your neck and temple. He is moaning your name and though his voice is hushed and strained you can still feel it reverberate through his chest, right against yours.

It’s precisely that which has you cumming, the sound of his voice calling your name over and over, telling you how good you feel. Your ears start to ring when your orgasm rolls through you and Mingi only picks up the pace to intensify it. You can faintly hear him, somewhere far away now, this otherwordly being showering you with so much affection it has tears forming in your eyes.

”You’re so perfect,” he’s telling you, fucking you faster. ”Just for me, all for me, you’re all mine.”

Somewhere through it, you realize he’s picked up the speed because he’s close too, but he wants to make it good for you before he pulls out. His eyes are on you, watching your breathing return to normal and feeling your hands unclench from his shoulders, and only when he’s certain that you’re coming down from the orgasm he leans back and pulls out. He only manages to get his hand around his cock before he cums all over your stomach, cumming so hard he shoots all the way up to your chest.

Mingis other hand is grabbing your waist and you can’t stop looking at the way he’s marked you up. There are red marks on you from the tips of his fingers, and little marks from his nails all over your hips, and you’re covered in his cum. Just seconds ago he’d told you that you’re all his, and in this moment you feel it.

”Fuck, that was…” Mingi is the first to speak. ”Shit, let me get you cleaned up.”

He scrambles for his underwear, starting to wipe his cum from your stomach.

You’ve managed to blink away the tears that welled up when you came, but there’s still a sob within your chest that you’re fighting to choke down. Everything about what just happened was about a thousand times more intense than you had ever dreamt of. Had he not pulled away you think you might have confessed to him right then and there.

”How are you feeling?” you ask him, clearing your throat and hoping Mingi reads it as just being fucked out.

”Very good,” he responds, without a hint of hesitance or a second of stalling. There’s a faint laugh in his voice, and he’s starting to smile. Nothing about him looks like you currently feel.

”Oh,” you say, struggling to find words. It’s not like you had expected him to just bare his heart and pour out confessions. You’d just expected something more to follow, after all of that. You had made love. There’s no other word for it.

Mingi leans down and kisses you once, so chaste you barely have time to kiss back.

He gets up and pulls out a pair of new boxers from his dresser, stepping in them.

”Fuck, I made you breakfast earlier and forgot all about it,” he tells you. You look over at the nightstand, where your breakfast sits forgotten.

”Oh,” you repeat. Your head drops back down on Mingis pillow. You speak again, ”I think I’d rather have a shower.”

It’s all so thoroughly strange. Mingi clasps his hand in yours and pulls you up from the bed, and you feel perturbed. You’ve seen Mingi greet Yunho with more affection than the way he helps you up on your feet. At least he joins you in the shower, but you feel weirdly disconnected from him. Even when he jokes and suds up his hair into silly hairstyles you can only manage halfhearted laughs.

Your body aches to have him closer, to feel him pressed against you and to have his lips back on yours again. The kisses he’s giving you now feel cheeky, as if he’s kissing you just because he can, and not because he truly wants to.

You suppose there’s reason to feel thankful, because at the very least Mingi hasn’t rejected you. His casualty is worth a lot more to you than the possibility that he could have pulled back and realized that everything about this was a mistake. He ruffles your hair after the shower, and it stings, but each second you continue to remind yourself that this is how things are supposed to be.

He lets you have one of his shirts after the shower, and he cooks you a very late lunch, then Mingi has to leave for work. Your legs are still unsteady when you make the walk back home to your house.

You prepare yourself to be ignored again. You busy yourself with cleaning your room, reading a book, cleaning out weeds in the garden, sending out job applications, anything you can to make the hours go by. You don’t want to check your phone, but your fingers itch to see if Mingi has texted you.

Nothing.

It’s not until late that night when you know Mingi's shift has ended that he calls you.

”Hey,” you answer, walking over to your window. Mingis car is in the driveway, but you can't see him in his room.

”Hi there,” he greets you. ”Busy day?”

”Oh you know, the usual,” you say. ”Mom wasn’t too happy with me spending the night but she was very relieved to hear it was with you.”

You’re still dressed in his t-shirt, and throughout the day you've been bringing the collar up to your nose to smell him on it. You find yourself doing it now too.

”Her head would explode if she knew what you were doing at my house this morning,” he teases you.

”Good thing no one will ever know then,” you joke, though it is the truth. It was always meant to be a secret.

”Right,” he says. ”So, do you think maybe you could come over tomorrow? My parents will be gone, I start working in the afternoon again, I was thinking maybe-”

”Yes,” you interrupt him.

Mingi laughs, ”Okay. Uh, do I sound desperate if I say that you can come over as soon as you wake up?”

”A little, but I like it,” you giggle.

”Good.”

”I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

You sleep so much better when you know that you’re seeing Mingi tomorrow. You wake up feeling completely rested, and you’re giddy as you sort out your bedhead and get dressed.

Mingis parents aren’t home, and there’s a spare key resting atop the frame of the front door that you use to let yourself into their home. It’s still early, early enough that you know that Mingi is probably fast asleep in his bed. You try to keep your steps light as you trudge up the stairs and into his room. The curtains are drawn, only letting in a stream of sunlight that lights up a sliver on his bed. The orange morning sun is casting a few inches of light on his thigh, so you let it lead you.

It’s where you first press a kiss. He smells of sleep and Mingi, you inhale the scent of his skin between kisses you trail all over his thigh and over the front of his underwear. Mingi sighs softly in his sleep, hips twitching when your lips kiss the tip of his dick through the fabric of his boxers. You’re looking up to watch his face, but when he’s still asleep as you mouth over his entire cock, you crawl up and kiss his lips.

Mingi huffs and puffs, twisting underneath you. You continue to kiss all over his sleepy, confused face. He cracks an eye open, transforming from a groggy confusion to a content smile.

”Morning,” he mumbles happily.

”Hey,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. ”Can I suck you off?”

He lets out a drawn-out moan that tapers off into a sigh, nodding fervently. His hands are weak and his fingers fumble to find purchase in your hair when you pull his underwear down his legs and take him into your mouth right away.

He sounds so lovely, all raspy and deep from his sleep. Even though he’s just come to consciousness, Mingi makes sure to tell you how good you are making him feel. He moans your name, over and over, giving you so much praise it’s making your head swim.

It doesn’t take him long to get close, so you choke out permission for him to cum in your mouth, and Mingi listens eagerly. Even as he cums he’s vocal, talking you through it and reminding you to breathe all while he praises you for how well you take it. He’s so gentle it’s making you moan as you swallow, and when you pull off his dick you scramble to get his thigh between yours.

Mingis hands guide your hips over his thigh, setting the pace for you to hump him. He keeps the praise coming, and when he feels you getting close he pulls you down for a numbing kiss. You cum on his thigh while deep in a kiss, and Mingi holds you close to his chest as you come down from it.

Somewhere in the post-orgasm haze, you both fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet, Mingi lulls you to sleep with the sounds of his breath and his fingers drawing patterns on your back. When you wake up again it’s in a sweat. His little bedroom is swarming with heat, so you decide on a shower, where Mingi has your chest pressed against the white tiles while he fucks you until you’re cumming a second time, this time while full of his cock. He bites down on your shoulder to keep from cumming until he knows you’re fully satisfied, and only then does he pull out and let himself cum on your ass.

When you’re pulling his shirt over your head 10 minutes later while he cooks you lunch, you catch sight of marks on your shoulder. His teeth had dug hard enough to bloom bruises on your skin, and your mind reels at the fact that he has marked you up.

Mingi has you coming over the next morning too, after you’d spent the previous night sending him pictures of the bruises his teeth left on your skin. His responses had been sporadic as he focused on work, but it didn’t stop you from going into detail about all the things you want Mingi to do to you.

It’s like all the limits have finally vanished, neither of you are held back by the fears and worries of before. It’s just like it had been before you moved back, when you only had phone calls to rely on. Back then, the comfort had come from the fact that you didn’t have to actualize all the things you spoke about. You had time to feel each other out and discuss what you want, all without having to put yourself on the line for possible failure. Now, you’ve found reassurance in the fact that you do have a physical relationship.

You know each other in your bones. You can read all the queues his body gives you, and you know what every little expression on his face means. You can sense differences in his sighs and you know what his voice sounds like when it’s getting to be too much. There’s no room for doubt when Mingi is in front of you, you just intrinsically know what he needs.

The two of you fall into a routine. When morning comes, you skip over to Mingi's house and usually he’s still asleep, tired from his shift the day before. You wake him up with kisses or gentle touches, and if he’s hard by the time you get there, Mingi loves to wake up to you already taking care of him. Some mornings you simply lay beside him, tracing his face with your finger. His hair sticks to his forehead so you brush it back, giving soft kisses to the side of his temple. Your pointer finger follows the contour of his nose and lips, feeling the warmth of his breath exit his nose.

Even though he’s asleep and unaware of your worship, you can’t bring yourself to stop. It’s in these moments you can be fully truthful with your affections. Letting your hands linger on his chest for a moment longer, focusing on his heartbeat underneath your palm. You whisper things to him you’re too afraid to say when he can hear you, just to release yourself from the need. It satiates you enough, like this airing out of your system, enough to keep you going until the next morning when you once again get overwhelmed with the sight of his sleeping form blanketed by sunlight. There is only one thing you forbid yourself from saying, three words that you vow to never let yourself speak.

A full two weeks pass of this. Every day you explore something new, things you’ve spoken about on the phone over the last year. With Mingis parents working daytime, you have full freedom to be as loud as you want. Mingi also takes full advantage of a free house. One morning he bends you over the kitchen counter while breakfast is still cooking. His mouth is always right by your ear, moaning and telling you how bad he needs you, despite fucking you upstairs in his bedroom just an hour earlier. Another day he has you ride him on the couch right before he leaves for work. You love it most when Mingi randomly decides to go down on you, whether it’s in the shower or he makes you lie down on the kitchen table. When he’s got his mouth on you he’s possessive, making sure to mark up your thighs and hips. It happens so often that he sometimes ends up darkening the hickeys he left a few days earlier.

Then Mingis schedule changes, and he has to work in the mornings. It doesn’t stop you, but it puts a damper on things as you know them. You have to meet in the afternoons instead, and with Mingi's parents home you end up sitting through long dinners with his parents, reminiscing and talking. It makes sex a little difficult, and Mingi hates the fact that you have to be quiet. He picks you up in his car a few times, but quick head while parked at the edge of the woods is a harsh contrast to the hours of sex you’d been able to have a few weeks earlier.

You’re caught by surprise one day when your phone calls and you rush to pick up only to find Yunhos voice at the other end. You’re so surprised that you pull your phone away and check the name on the screen, and sure enough it’s Yunho's contact name.

”Hey,” you reply, trying to play off the shock.

”Not happy to hear from me?” he teases.

”Shut up, you know I am!” you joke back.

He laughs in return and makes some small talk, telling you how much fun it was to see you and asking you how you’ve been.

”But, hey, uh,” he interjects. ”You ended up leaving with my shirt, is there any chance I could get it back?”

”Shit,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. ”You’re right, I totally forgot. Uh, do you want me to bring it by today?”

”That’d be perfect, thanks!”

When Yunho hangs up the phone, you chew nervously at your lip. Getting the shirt back to Yunho wouldn’t be an issue, it’s just that it’s in Mingi’s room somewhere, and asking him to locate it would probably lead to another weird moment where Mingi says something petty. You’re pacing around your room when your eyes land on his driveway and you remember that Mingi is at work. You’re just about to call Yunho and tell him today’s gonna be impossible, before the solution hits you.

Mingis mom opens the door to their home when you knock, and beams at the sight of you on their doorstep.

”Sweetheart! Hi there, Mingi is at work right now, I’m afraid,” she tells you while wrapping her arms around you for a hug. She always does this, even though you’ve been spending a lot of time over at their house recently, Mingis mother hugs you every time she sees you.

”I know, it’s just that I left something in Mingi's room that I need to get if that’s okay?”

So she lets you run up to his bedroom. You feel a little bad while rummaging through his room, but it doesn’t take you long to find Yunhos flannel shirt bunched up halfway underneath Mingis dresser. Mingis mom tries to convince you to stay for dinner, but you tell her you have to get going, and within moments you’re in your car on the way to Yunhos house.

It’s another picture-perfect day outside, the sky is a pristine blue and the wind is blowing just enough to bring some relief in this heat. Yunho is outside in his front yard, with the rear of his car jacked up.

”Hey, you!” you call, getting out of your car. ”Car trouble?”

You can tell by the fact that he has picked apart the entire wheelhouse that it’s not just something routine, but Yunho shrugs his shoulders.

”Not something I can’t fix,” he smiles. ”Dude, you’re quick. I called you, what, 30 minutes ago?”

You nod, sitting down on the tire Yunho has removed.

”Honestly, I was losing my mind at home. I’ve been doing jack shit for days now, I think I might die out of boredom,” you complain.

”Oh, so you’re saying you left the minute you got my call just because you had nothing better to do? It’s not just because you love me?” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, wiping grease from his forehead.

”Can’t it be both? And anyway, I had to go over to Mingis to get your shirt, so I didn’t leave ’the minute I got your call’,” you say, sticking out your tongue at him.

”It was at Mingi's house?” he asks.

Something comes over Yunhos face that you can’t pinpoint.

”Yeah.. I left with him during the party, and we went to his house afterward.” You hope he buys it as a reasonable enough explanation, it’s at the very least true. Just not the entire truth.

Yunho shrugs, and his eyes lose the edge they just had. He smiles, ”Leaving in one man's shirt to go to another dude's house, all in one night.. Impressive, I’ll give you that.”

”Fuck off!” you huff, kicking Yunhos shoe.

He laughs, slapping down a greasy hand on your knee to let you know that he’s just joking, even though you already know that.

”Although…” you trail off. ”Mingi did say that it’s your move.”

”Oh yeah, it is. I wasn’t expecting you to fall for it, though.” Yunhos's voice is still teasing, but not in the same way that Mingis usually is. You can tell that Yunho is just friendly, that there’s no flirting laced in his words or tone. It makes you miss Mingi.

”I don’t fall for things like that,” you retort, but quickly find your mind going to all the shirts Mingi has let you borrow these past weeks. You wear them all day, every day, even when you come back home after spending time with him. You even sleep in them, and you frequently bury your face in the collar to smell his laundry detergent. The few times he gives you a shirt he’s already worn you end up getting so worked up about it that you think you’d be getting yourself off while smelling it, if it wasn’t for the fact that Mingi now has you cumming at least twice a day.

So, perhaps you do fall for tricks like that. But only when it’s Mingi.

Yunho goes silent, and you can see that he’s chewing on the inside of his lip.

”What’s wrong?” you ask him.

His eyes flick over to yours for a second, then he looks at his hands. You’ve never seen Yunho this deep in thought outside an academic setting, and something about it is making you uneasy.

”You know,” he begins, but the words die as quickly as he says them.

”Yes?” you try again.

He pauses, looking up at you.

”You know that Mingi is my best friend,” he says. ”And I love him, I do, but sometimes he acts like an idiot. And I can’t- I just hate seeing it, you know?”

”Okay,” you mumble, only growing more confused with every word Yunho says.

”I don’t think it was right how he came here with you, then spent the whole night talking to everyone but you. But, he just gets so weird sometimes, right? And like I said, I love him, he’s my best friend, but- we just thought it would be different when you came back home. So, Wooyoung and I decided to see what would happen if I lent you my shirt, and-.. Yeah.”

”What… What are you saying?” Your voice is getting quieter. The cheery happiness from before has retired, and there’s something strange in the atmosphere now. You can’t understand what Yunho is getting at, but there’s a part of you that wonders and wishes. A part of you that can read between the lines of what Yunho is too afraid to say out loud.

”It’s not my place to say,” Yunho says, looking everywhere but your eyes.

”At least tell me what you intended to do with this shirt.” It’s still in your hands, his flannel, and your fingers are tightening around it.

”We just figured that maybe he needed a push,” he tells you, sounding so sheepish.

”You wanted him to get jealous?” you finally say it out loud. Yunho doesn’t meet your eyes, but it’s a clear enough answer. So you ask, ”What do you know about me and Mingi?”

”In all honesty? I don’t know anything. And it used to hurt me because Mingi is my best friend and I’ve known him since we were kids. But that’s what clued me in because I know for a fact that he would have told me if you were dating,” Yunho says. You’re holding your breath while listening to him. He continues, ”I, uh, I accidentally saw the preview of a text you sent him once. Something about.. well, that’s not important. But, I realized it then. We all thought it was just a matter of time, and that you’d make it official when you moved back home.”

You’re hearing every single thing Yunho is saying, but the words just won’t stick. You’re becoming more aware of the birds singing and the sound of the wind among the treetops.

”Mingi is in love with you,” Yunho says. At last. The rest of his words blur together. He has been, a long time, doesn’t know it. Yunhos mouth is moving, and you know what he’s saying, but the rational part of you that knows this can’t be true has stopped listening long ago.

Mingi is not in love with you. He’s just not, that can’t be true.

Yunho scrambles towards you, hands landing on each of your knees. He looks so concerned and his mouth is still moving.

”-you okay? What’s wrong?” You hear once your brain stops blocking your ears. You’re crying, tears falling from your cheeks down onto your hands.

”What did I say?” Yunho asks frantically.

And the confessions start rolling. You tell Yunho about everything, from that first night to everything that has happened since you returned back home. You tell him about the weird moment when Mingi drove you home after the party.

”Don’t you hear it though? He’s in love with you! My god, I think he always has been,” Yunho says.

You scoff, ”He ignored me for four whole months during my first semester away. He’s not in love with me, this is just.. out of comfort, it’s just easy.”

”You’re both in denial. You know what I’m hearing? That Mingi was so heartbroken when you moved away that he couldn’t even be a good friend. That didn’t just extend to you, by the way. He barely hung out with us during that time, and it only changed when you came home for Christmas,” Yunho tries to lay it out for you.

”You’re wrong. You’re wrong-”

”I can’t tell you what to believe,” Yunho says. His hand squeezes your knee, leaving dirty marks of grease on your skin. It’s a gesture of comfort, and you appreciate it for what it is. ”You need to talk to Mingi. Maybe disarm him by telling him that you’re in love with him first.”

The air feels different when you drive back home. It feels heavier, somehow. Yunhos words bear an incredible weight and no matter how many times you run them through your head they don’t get any easier to process. It would be different if it had come from Seonghwa or Hongjoong, who would say practically anything to comfort you. You don’t think Yunho would sweeten his words like they would, or even at all.

You sit through a quiet lunch with your mom, unable to get your thoughts in any other direction than the conversation you just had with Yunho. For some reason, you feel absolutely stuck there, and you can’t see a way for things to work. It feels as if time has been suspended in wait for your next move. The hours tick on though. You lay in your bed and watch the numbers on your alarm clock change. Seconds turn into minutes, and then hours, and your mind is still stuck in the same place as it has since you left Yunhos house.

You don’t realize when the clock indicates that Mingi is ending his shift. The numbers are just ticking, hypnotizing you. You startle when your phone calls and the pit in your stomach grows when you know that it’s probably Mingi.

Your fingers move on pure muscle memory as you pick up your phone and swipe to answer the call, then raise the phone to your ear. Through the phone, you can hear Mingis car running.

”Hello?” Mingi asks. ”You know, it’s usually the person who picks up the phone who speaks first.”

”Sorry,” you croak. You don’t even recognize the sound of your voice.

”Are you okay?” Mingi sounds so concerned it makes your stomach twist. It’s still the same Mingi you have known all your life, and he’s the same man you’ve been fucking the past weeks, but something feels as if it has fundamentally changed. You try to listen to his voice, read it for any hint of tenderness you’d have previously missed. You can’t make out any, it’s the same Mingi as always.

”It’s been a weird day,” you settle for.

”Then what do you say about changing into your swimsuit and we go to the lake? It’s so hot out, I can’t stand to be home. And maybe it can take your mind off of things?” he suggests.

”Yeah, sounds good.”

”I’ll pick you up in 5, better hurry!”

Mingi hangs up. Your head feels all fuzzy and distant, but you pull yourself out of bed and get changed. While putting your clothes over your swimsuit you realize you’re in one of Mingis t-shirts. Every single bit of this feels like a divine punishment. To be dressed in Mingis clothes and have marks in the shape of his mouth decorate your chest and the insides of your thighs, to be so thoroughly claimed by him but yet not be his, is agonizing.

You’re aware that Mingi would park in your driveway and come knocking at your door, wanting to impress and appease your parents at every turn. You just can’t deal with that today, so you hurriedly make your way down the stairs and out your door to wait for him outside. You’re just in time, because Mingi is making the turn up your street and it’s only half a minute before he’s pulling up to your house and you’re getting in his car.

”Hey, I missed you!” Mingi sounds cheerful, sporting a smile so big it’s splitting. You hate the way that time and space curl around Mingi each time you see him as if he presents to you in technicolor and slow motion. Your eyes pass over each feature, trying your best to handle what just seeing him does to your body.

Mingi keeps a pair of extra sunglasses in his car for you, and when you’re sat down he leans over to place them on your face. The gesture is enough to make your breath hitch, but he uses it as an opportunity to lean in for a swift kiss, and you feel as if you’re floating.

Today, Mingi has Fleetwood Mac playing softly throughout the car.

You’re just looking at Mingi with this pit in your stomach, this sense of impending doom sitting heavy in your abdomen. The world feels slow and strangely saturated. The seconds stretch on infinitely, allowing you plenty of time to watch the sunlight adorn Mingi's skin.

You’re aware that you can’t stop staring. When Mingi parks the car and you start making the short walk through the trees to get to the lake, your eyes are always set on him. From the towel slung over his shoulder to the sweat that has broken out and is trickling down the nape of his neck. You’re trying to make sense of the sight in front of you, the same Mingi you’ve made this walk with a hundred times, the only difference being that he’s had you in the most intimate and tender ways now. It forces you to rewrite history, the memories of your childhood innocence are permanently changed. If only you had known then, while sitting on the big rock and throwing pebbles out to break the still surface of the water if you had only known that the boy handing you rocks would end up being the man you fall in love with fifteen years later.

Your stupid, stupid heart. Sometimes you think the ribs, flesh, and muscle containing it won’t be enough to keep it in place. It beats so hard and fast it billows from your chest, through your arms, and out to the very tip of each finger. You have to flex them to stop that lovesick tingle from numbing you.

The water is beautiful. The lake looks just like you remember it, the wind is blowing slight ripples upon the surface and the trees are swinging lightly. Besides the gentle hum of nature, the place is completely undisturbed and it’s just you and Mingi here today.

You're placing your towels down and undressing in silence, barely glancing at each other. You sneak little glances at him in the corner of your eye, wondering what he’s thinking. Yunhos words are still echoing through your head, getting louder and more unbearable for every minute that passes.

Mingi is wading into the water before you know it, covered up to his knees, then thighs, then his waist, and eventually he points his arms and dives in entirely. He erupts back through the surface with a shriek that echoes over the lake, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.

He rushes back up to where you’re laying on your towel, shoulders bunched up in reaction to the cold water. Mingi shakes his head above you to force droplets onto your bare skin, laughing loudly when you yell in protest. Things feel so extraordinarily regular, it’s as if you have transported back ten years in time. Even when Mingi gets down on his towel and leans over to kiss you, it still feels so normal. It just feels so right with Mingi, like this is what you’re meant to be doing.

Mingis's mouth is cold and wet from his dip in the water, and his hair continues to drip onto your face, but you find it hard to care when he wraps you up in a long, passionate kiss. He’s on his stomach on his towel now, as close to you as he can get. Your heart beats with a discernible nervosity at the fact that you are laid out in the open with Mingi making out with you. There would be quite a walk for anyone else to get here, and you would probably be able to hear branches breaking or even a car parking way before anyone could walk upon the scene and spot the two of you. The risk of getting caught here is low, but you still feel like you’re on display.

Mingis cold fingers wrap around your jaw where he keeps you firmly as his tongue enters your mouth. The kissing goes to your head very quickly, dulling all your senses as all your thoughts are replaced by what Mingi is doing with his mouth. He knows you so well that he pulls away seconds before you lose your breath, letting you regain it while he kisses the corner of your mouth softly. His hand trails over your chest and down your stomach carefully, feeling the way your ribcage heaves as your breaths get steadier.

Mingis eyes follow the path of his hand before he abruptly stops by your knee.

”What’s that?” he asks you. You have to crane your neck to see what he’s looking at. Not much remains of it, but there are still faint marks of dirt and grease on the top of your knees. Just on the outside of your leg, there’s an unmistakable fingerprint.

”Oh,” you mumble. Mingi detaches himself from you with a quickness that makes you lose your breath, and you scramble to get up too.

”I don’t- I feel like I don’t even need to ask who left that on you,” Mingi says.

”It was Yunho,” you rush out, wanting so badly to resolve this before Mingis thoughts spin and twist so bad that you can’t untangle them. It’s clear from the look on his face that your words and their haste only have the opposite effect.

”Yunho?” he questions, getting quieter.

”It’s not all what you think. He called me about that shirt he let me borrow a few weeks ago, remember? I went to his house to give it back and we got to talking. You know, just.. stuff, about life. I ended up getting emotional and he comforted me. I was crying and he put his hands on my knees, that’s all.” You read Mingis's face for any changes, but nothing happens. He only looks at you, taking in your half-truth excuse of an explanation.

”What is it that Yunho can comfort you about, but I can’t?” Mingi asks, his eyes staring into yours with so much intensity you feel like crying. You had expected everything but that. You’d rather Mingi accuse you of getting intimate with Yunho, that you’re lying and it’s a terrible cover story you’re spinning. You could defend yourself from all that, but not this.

”That’s not… Mingi, it’s not like that. I didn’t just choose to go there for comfort. It just happened, I just started crying, and that’s it,” you urge.

Mingis legs are drawn up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around them. He looks so small and vulnerable. His eyebrows are starting to furrow together, and you’re finding it hard to tell if it’s anger or sadness that is starting to show on his face. Both possibilities terrify you equally.

”Why?” he wonders, simply. ”Why did you cry?”

You can physically see the restraints he’s putting on himself to hear you out, to not race away with his worries. You wish it means what you want it to mean. That Mingis vulnerability was an act of love instead of self-preservation. He’s probably sat there worried at the threat of Yunho taking you away and replacing his role. That the fun you’ve had the past weeks, and the year before that, would be over, just like that. You wonder if he views it as a hindrance more than anything. Mingi has finally scored a way to have sex on the regular, without the commitment or worries of starting with someone new. What you have is a lot of comfort, and you suppose he doesn’t want to lose that.

Still, even this feels like a lot more than you deserve of him. If you can’t have Mingi in the ways that you want, you’ll have to do your best to preserve the arrangement you have now.

”It’s not important,” you mumble. You know it’s not a good enough answer.

Mingi lets the word hover in the air for a moment, pondering on whether he should let it go.

In the end, he decides to speak. ”There’s nothing you can tell me that would scare me off. You know that, right?”

”That’s not true,” you whisper, so quiet it’s almost a hiss. ”There is something I can’t ever tell you.”

Tears start to fall down your cheeks and it’s now a conscious effort to keep your sobs contained within your chest. The lake is still breathtaking, the wind is still and the sun is bright in the perfect blue sky. It’s a beautiful day to get your heart broken, at the very least.

Mingi stretches his fingers and you watch the tendons twitch and flex. You’re brought back to what you were doing earlier, shaking off your nerves.

”What if I say it first?” he says. You look up at his eyes.

”What?”

”That I love you,” he tells you. His eyes are big and dark, brimming with tears of his own. ”If I say it first, will you say it too?”

”Mingi-”

”I do love you,” he begins. ”It’s stupid, looking back, because I think I’ve loved you since before you left. I loved you that first night, I already knew it, and I felt so stupid when I woke up the morning after. Doing that with you when I was drunk out of my mind made me feel like shit. And then I felt even more like shit, because- because, it made me realize that it hadn’t been the way I wanted it to be. So I took comfort in the fact that it was over the phone, and I still had time to do it right. To start right, with you, I mean. I wanted our first time to be perfect. I knew I loved you when I kept thinking about it. But then, when you finally came back, it truly clicked. For a while, I had figured that I’d know how I felt about you when we had sex for the first time. But I was wrong because all it took was me seeing you to know that I’m in love with you.”

”Mingi,” you whisper, again, over and over. It’s all you can bring yourself to say, like a prayer, before you crawl over to him and press your lips to his. It doesn’t matter that it takes him a beat to respond, you don’t care at all anymore about how things get awkward or strange. You continue to kiss over his mouth until he’s ready to kiss you back, when time finally catches up to you and it dawns on you both that this is real.

You can’t stop kissing him, breathing out his name every time you part.

”I love you,” you mumble into his mouth. ”I’m so in love with you.”

Mingi smiles into the kiss. Your senses are overwhelmed with the taste of both your tears and the fact that you’re both now smiling and giggling, repeating ’I love you’s until the words merge.

He pulls you into his arms, tumbling over into the grass. He stops kissing you to just look at you, and you watch him too. Your Mingi, in the grass by the lake. Finally, your Mingi.

#mingi x reader #ateez angst #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #mingi x y/n

[twice-in-a-blue-moon]

The Dateables Reacting to You in Sexy Christmas Lingerie

Dateables x GN! reader :)

AN: Whoop whoop, just as promised I present to you the dateables!

Warnings: There's no smut, these are just suggestive.

Minors DNI!

Diavolo

When you told Diavolo that you had an early Christmas present to give him, he was expecting a beautifully wrapped box of traditional reds and greens.

So to say he was quite surprised to see you wrapped up in your own sheer, red lingerie would be an understatement. 

But wow do you look stunning, literally cannot take his eyes off you. 

The pure white, silk sheets help define your outline, making it easier for him to gaze upon every curve that’s accentuated perfectly by the garment.

He steadily walks to the bed where you’re sitting and gently pushes you to lay on your back, pinning you there as he hovers over you.

“Is this the present you spoke of? It’s wonderful, you’re wonderful. Let me return a gift of my own, and pleasure you the way you deserve. Tonight I’m going to make you feel like royalty.”

Barbatos

Barbatos had been busy making his rounds all day, and currently he was on his way to the royal kitchens to prepare some tea for the young prince.

You had luckily timed your surprise just right, as you had lifted yourself onto one of the cold countertops and positioned yourself just minutes before he arrived.

The expression on his face had stayed relatively neutral upon seeing you, though intrigue and a hint of lust simultaneously flashed through his eyes. 

He took the time to appreciate the way the fabric clung to your body in all the right places, the tasteful gaze you had plastered on your ever growing red face.

Suddenly he had decided he was in no hurry to get back to Diavolo, as he would much rather be taking care of you in whatever manner of your choosing.

He deliberately made his movements slow as he walked to stand in front of you.

“My dear, you simply look ravishing. Would you mind if I took my time and did just that?” 

Simeon

Simeon was sitting at his desk, scribbling away at one of his drafts when you entered his room silently. 

He didn’t notice you at first, so you cleared your throat to get his attention and called his name softly.

A smile etched itself on his face before he turned to look at you, just happy you were here, but when he set his pen aside and gazed upon the lace that adorned your body, the smile fell and a light blush dusted his cheeks.

Swaying your hips, you walked up to him watching him gulp as you did.

He reached a hand out to touch you but hesitated, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and make you uncomfortable, so you grabbed his wrist and pulled it gently towards you.

Taking the hint, he placed a gloved hand on your exposed skin, letting it roam the expanse of your body along with his eyes that had become significantly darker. 

“You’re quite naughty to tease an angel like this, to fuel so much lust into my veins. Go ahead, tempt me. Show me how devilish you can be.” 

Solomon

Solomon arrived back to his room as he had stayed late at RAD to finish up one of his experiments.

Upon opening the door, the sorcerer was greeted with low lighting- thanks to a few stray candles, and you who sat on his plush red couch wearing your own little red number, and it was quite revealing, he may add. 

He certainly wasn’t expecting this, but it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise.

HIs signature smirk had made its appearance as his eyes took their time examining everything that was visible, his mind making up for the gaps in what wasn’t. 

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest as he made his way to you, his hands reaching beyond either side of your head gripping the back of the couch, a knee slipping in between your legs.

“Well, don’t you look adorable? But I think you’d look even better without anything on as you breathlessly tell me you’re mine over and over again. So why don’t we get started right now?”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon x mc #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #obey me diavolo smut #obey me barbatos smut #obey me simeon smut #obey me solomon smut #obey me mc #obey me reader insert #jo writes spice

[shiny-jr]

Oh man, just got caught up on all the Vil stuff of the last few days, and we simps be eating good!

So here’s my contribution to the ever-growing shrine: pre-confession darling always being polite to Vil, but a little distant, a little too star-struck to relax around him. Vil starts to wonder if he’s doing something wrong, if he isn’t good enough…

But THEN *dramatic music* darling’s bag falls over somehow, and some little Vil fan item falls out. Nothing crazy, maybe a button with his face on it, or a perfume model he advertised for that has his picture on the bottle. Something unmistakably fangirl-ish.

Darling only notices when Ace or Deuce points it out, then gets utterly mortified when she sees that Vil had also noticed. Stuffs it back in, tries to laugh it off, but can’t get away from the teasing that yeah, even though they’re still new to this world, they couldn’t resist spending some hard earned thaumarks, and that they’ve grown to admire Vil after the SDC.

Can you imagine? I’m sure Vil would be very nice and not too teasing in the moment, but the second he’s alone? Cue all the embarrassing squealing and rolling on the bed he’d never let anyone see. And the SMUGNESS!! Oh, he’ll be on cloud nine for the next few days, randomly smiling and causing heart attacks in the student population.

Even better, now knowing Darling is a fan, it’s SO much easier to get closer, to offer exclusive tickets to his next movie, to invite darling along on his next photo shoot. And any time darling gets embarrassed and tries to refuse, he can just catch their chin in his hand, and force eye contact as he pouts and reminds them that they’re his fan…

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: Vil being a fucking simp for a fan MC.

Note: Y'all Vil simps have taken over this blog now. ARE YOU HAPPY? Had to write a bit for this because I saw it so vividly in my head. Normally I like to imagine MC kinda oblivious to trends and celebrities of Twisted Wonderland so they casually approach the elegant star Vil like "wazzup" but your idea is pretty fun too. Had to bust out my Vil playlist to write this one. ADDED: I just finished it. Have not edited or checked for mistakes. But I feel like its mid? Like, it’s not bad but it’s not good either. But I didn’t want to keep it in the drafts after completing it and I didn’t just want to delete it either. So I’ll post anyways, even though I’m not happy with it. 

Normally the class consisted of the first years, you'd sit beside Ace and Deuce, usually with Grim seated in your lap. Sometimes Jack, Epel, and even Sebek would be in the same class. But this time you were alone, despite the class being busier than ever.

Ace, Deuce, and Grim were caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing, as per usual. And they were promptly sent to see the Headmaster. Surprisingly you weren't called up, probably because you had been in the bathroom when it went down so you were exempt from detention. Jack, Epel, and Sebek made it to class on time, but they had arrived when the only seats left were across the room. Leaving you seated between unfamiliar third-years because of the joint class today. Well, most of them were unfamiliar, not all of them. Seated directly on your left was Vil Schoenheit, third-year, dorm leader of Pomefiore, and celebrity.

Schoeneheit had greeted you amicably with a rather friendly smile and a how are you? To which you responded with your own nervous smile and a polite response. Truthfully, you believe he only sat beside you because it was one of the only seats left, but you'd like to believe it was because he saw you in a good light now. Were you friends? Probably not. Maybe simple acquaintances was a better term. 

If you were being honest, he still intimidated you. You could recall the looks of disdain he often gave you and your companions before the audition, then there was his strict nature and the fact that he literally cursed your friends with a cake you were five seconds from taking a bite of. Not to mention his overblot and how his unhinged form seemed to focus on you so intently... Yeah, talk about nightmare fuel. But, you decided to give him another chance at possibly being friends. You knew he was famous, but you didn’t know he was famous enough to draw crowds. Which sparked your curiosity and led you to looking him up. What you found were various films, shows, advertisements, and magazines. He was like the actor Emma Watson, singer Britney Spears, and influencer Kim Kardashian all rolled into one. You still can’t believe you had no idea who he was and you had offered him a bowl of cheap instant noodles when he and the others were staying at Ramshackle. Embarrassing... 

You sat rigidly as Vil checked his appearance in the small hand-held mirror, making sure his looks were up to his standards before class began. Uncomfortably you shifted, deciding to occupy yourself by removing your notebook and writing utensils from the bag you kept as a barrier between you and the super star. As you did so, you failed to notice a tiny object fall out of your bag, but he noticed out of the corner of his eye. Curiously he plucked it up between his gloved fingers, about to return it when he took a closer look. 

It was an enamel pin, shiny and sparkling. However, it resembled his face. Or, to be more accurate, one of the characters he played in a recent series. It caused him to freeze, processing what this meant before he moved to tap your shoulder and held out his open palm with the pin on it. “You dropped this.” 

Confused, you turned your head and raised your eyebrow. That’s when you saw it. Your pin in his hand, the pin that looked exactly like him. Mortified, you quickly snatched it, attempting to laugh it off, but heat only began to creep up your neck when you noticed his smug smile. 

Vil propped up his elbow on the table, holding up his head as he remarked slyly, “I didn’t think you were a fan.” 

“Ahaha, yeahhhh... Sorry, is that weird?” 

“Not at all. I’m a little flattered.” Those amethyst eyes of his were studying you so intensely, watching your every little reaction. “I’m simply surprised. Most people tend to not like that character I portrayed, since they’re a villain and all.” 

“What’s wrong with that? I think villains are better than good guys anyways. They always have a better fleshed out backstory or reason for what they do. They’re more relatable, you know? And you did a really good job and making the audience feel for the character! They became my favorite! And–– Ah...” Realizing what you were doing, you shut your mouth. “I mean, you probably get that stuff a lot, huh? I’ll stop now.” 

His eyes were sparkling, surprised as his listened. When you paused, he insisted, “No, no, continue! Any and all feedback is appreciated. Besides,” Vil took the pin from your hands, and he lifted his fingers up to the upper half of your uniform where he pinned the accessory on your clothing. Beaming pridefully at the sight of the accessory, with his face on it, on your uniform, he hummed, “You said, I was your favorite, didn’t you? We still have a few more minutes before class. You’ll indulge me with more conversation, won’t you~?” 

❂     ❂     ❂     ❂     ❂ 

Once alone, Schoenheit allowed his bag to slip off his shoulder. It was a long class, three hours to be exact. Three hours... with you. He released a shaky breath, clutching the spot over his heart that was still beating at a faster than average rate. He could hardly believe his luck. When he heard that today there was to be a joint class between first-years and third-years, he instantly began prepping. He put more effort into his makeup, making sure it was perfect down to the exact particle. He sprayed on his sweetest smelling perfume and picked his cleanest uniform. 

At first he was worried that perhaps he was doing something wrong. You always appeared so... timid whenever he appeared. You could be joking and chatting animatedly with those pesky friends of yours (which he held a raging jealously towards), but when he entered the room, you would go quiet and avoid his gaze. He questioned and scolded himself for everything he did. Why did he used to look at you like a stain? Why didn’t he realize you earlier? Were his efforts at redeeming himself in your eyes, not good enough? Was it something about the way he dressed? Or acted? Or spoke? All this paranoia seemingly evaporated when he striked up a conversation. For the first time in weeks, you talked to him! And it wasn’t just a little chat about homework, or responsibilities, or school rumors. You spoke to him, about him! He knew by the pin and how you spoke about the series, that you had seen him on the show. You had been thinking about him! It quelled all his worries, as just yesterday he feared that you may have secretly loathed him for what he’s done or tried to do. 

As the memory came back to him of what just occurred, Vil clutched himself and squealed. He was already on the bed, rolling around on the sheets and pillows, resisting the urge to simply jump on his mattress and leap with joy! He could vividly recall the way you allowed him to scoot closer to point out some important material in the textbook, as you whispered a witty remark to him which he very quietly chuckled to in order to avoid being caught by the professor, and you even gave him your number! Of course it was to exchange notes and tips, you had said. But he’d use it for so much more than that. 

This was good first step, wasn’t it? You had officially bypassed the acquaintance stage and were now well on your way to the friend stage. Then, more than that, by that was all in due time. For now... 

Vil stopped his squirming, again feeling his heart that was now beating rapidly. Do you know the things he would do just for your attention? Oh, you truly have no idea of the lengths he would do, just for you. Gingerly picking up his phone, he read over the newly registered number. Your number. Slowly opening up a chat, he was partially disappointed to see it was completely empty. You hadn’t sent a thing. But, if all went well, it’d be full and constantly busy by tomorrow evening. His fingers danced across the screen as he typed out his message, reviewing what he wrote over and over again for any errors, any grammar mistakes, or another way to better word what he wants to say. Finally, after a good five minutes of anxiously staring at his screen, he pressed the send button, and watched the text come up in the chat. 

V: [ It was nice to talk to you again. If you’re willing, we should meet again. I got word that Professor Trein plans to have another joint class promptly, and he’ll assign a project so that the first years and third years work together. Would you like to get ahead and research in the library soon? ] 

Then he waited. And waited. And waited some more. After ten minutes, he feared he wouldn’t get a response. Had you given him the wrong number accidentally or purposefully? Was he coming on too strong? What if–– 

Ding! 

Instantly the screen lit up, displaying a new unread message which he hurriedly read. 

Y: [ Vil, right? Thanks for the heads up! Sorry for the kinda late reply Grim took my phone to play games. Anyways, yeah, that sounds good. I can meet you as soon as classes are over tomorrow, if that’s a good time for you?? ] 

V: [ That sounds perfect. ]

You poor thing, you truly don’t have a clue about what you’re getting into, do you?

❂     ❂     ❂     ❂     ❂ 

Again, Vil was prepared. He dressed flawlessly and got to the library early in order to have all the books necessary and stacked up on the table. He greeted you with a friendly smile, and you immediately got to work together. The blonde sat across from you, watching as you sketched out a rough look for the presentation that you wanted to show him and ask for his opinion. As he waited, he ignored the open book in front of him and instead watched at the way you focused on the paper, your hand moving with the pencil to create lines and shapes on the sheet. It was incredible that even the simple little things about you could captivate him. 

After a moment of watching you with a gentle smile and great intrigue, he opened his mouth, “Do you have any plans for afterwards?” 

You paused, looking up in confusion, “H-Huh?” 

“Do you have any plans for afterwards?” He repeated. “I mean, after our study session together. Do you have anything planned for afterwards?” 

“Oooh.” You shrugged before getting back to the sketch, answering as you finished up the drawing. “I mean, I left Grim with the ghosts but he gets grumpy if he doesn’t get tucked in. The Headmaster said Grim wasn’t allowed out, except classes, for at least two day. But, I might go buy some instant foods from Sam’s shop. Then I’ll lead home.” 

“Instant foods...?” Vil murmured incredulously, his smile immediately dropping. All those times he’d spied on you as you ate lunch with your friends, he always thought it was strange that you never ate when he saw you. Despite your company and even Grim eating. But now this? Instant foods? Was it possible that you didn’t have enough money to eat lunch? He was mortified. Swiftly he grabbed your wrist and carefully dragged you out of the library, “Come. Now.” 

“Wh–– What?? Where are we going? What about the project!” 

“A simple project can wait. Our stuff will be where we left it.” He continued to escort you down the hallways, towards what you recognized was the path leading to the cafeteria. That’s when he spoke again, his tone oddly stern, much different from how softly he spoke just minutes before. “You haven’t been eating properly, have you?” 

Your gaze drifted downwards, gazing at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, in order to avoid his stare. “... Hot pockets are still food.” 

“I mean real food.” When there was a lack of response, Vil became angry. Not at you, but at who was responsible. “That wretched crow hasn’t given you a decent allowance, has he? Tsk. I’ll be having a chat with him, but for now...” He led you to the front of the cafeteria, where there was no line. Other few students present were chatting at tables, having a late dinners after their clubs or study sessions. Vil stood behind you with his arms crossed as he instructed, “Order. And I’ll be watching to be certain you have enough on your plate.” 

You were quiet, gazing at the pastries, plates, meats, salads, and other delectable dishes past the glass counters. The menu overhead appeared endless, with a huge variety of food and drinks and desserts. It made your stomach grumble. It was a horrible reminder that you had barely eaten that day. You only had a cheap bag of chips that morning. Ashamed, you avoided his gaze once again as you muttered, “Vil, I can’t afford any of this right now...” 

“I wasn’t asking if you could afford it. I was instructing you to choose what you wanted. I don’t want your money, you could just pay me back in another manner.” When one of the ghost chefs came over, Vil placed a hand over your shoulder and used his other hand to point at several dishes, “My companion here will have one of these, two of those, and five of that. Yes, that plate right there. Oh, and a smoothie as well. Thank you.” Once the ghost was gone, Vil gazed back down at you. You still couldn’t look him in the eye. Carefully he reached forward, gingerly lifting your head up by your chin so you were forced to look at his eyes. His eyes that were normally so cold and judgmental, gazed at you so fondly. “Why won’t you look at me? Aren’t were close?” He pouted to sell the act. “I’m not about to neglect my own darling fan and let them go hungry. That’d be far too cruel. To pay me back, you can accompany me on one of our days off. Say... to see a new movie in town? Well, do you agree? Or shall I order you more plates and see your time to pay me back grow longer~? Surely spending time with me can’t be that bad?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #vil schoenheit #twst vil #yandere vil schoenheit #soft yan vil

[comicaurora]

Hello! I wanted to send my appreciation to you as a longtime fan of OSP and Auroura! I am an English Major with ADHD and your content always makes me inspired and my English Lit. Brain very happy with how good your storytelling is.

My question is what stories inspire you to write or make you want to sit down and tell a story? Your content makes me want to work on my projects, but my Adhd only last as long as I am not disturbed (i.e. need to eat or get up and move). You have always been upfront about your Adhd so my second question is how do you keep focused on your story and not burn out? (Talking as someone who is writing a novel as their thesis)

You have been a great inspiration over the years and someone I look up to as a storyteller! I wish you focus and luck! => 💝

Woo! Interesting questions!

When it comes to inspiration, I haven't really found a pattern for what works and what doesn't. The majority of the time, only new experiences/stories I haven't seen or read before work for me - rewatches and re-reads, while much more comfortable for my brain, don't tend to translate into creative inspiration for me - but it's not like a specific genre, or even a specific kind of relaxation, consistently work for me.

The way my brain works is a bit "no take only throw", as it were. I want to just sit down and make solid, steady progress in a predictable environment with a routine, but what I need is to try new things, go outside, take risks - because all those things give me new material to work with and refill the creative gas tank. When I'm stuck, I can't just hit the gas and punch through the block - I need to back up and try a new angle.

The good part of all this is that whatever engine that's running my subconscious is actually pretty good at signaling what it needs. The ADHD brain will be repelled by activities that aren't working for it and drawn to the things it needs at the time, whether that's creative energy or exercise or cleaning or doodling or listening to music or suddenly binge-watching a show that's not even all that great, and once it's got what it needs out of it - whatever that is - it'll be repelled again, either spitting out a sudden burst of creative energy or retreating to its den to chew on whatever it got out of the experience for a more slow-building reward. Little bursts of motivation and creativity pop up all throughout the day, and if you can pivot to the activity in question - or at least note down the idea you just had - you'll be able to harness that pretty nicely.

This "system" really only works for me because I have an extremely unstructured schedule and nobody relying on me to be consistent moment-to-moment. If I'm following the creative needs of my inscrutable Better Writer In The Back Of My Head, I can't be worrying about things like a consistent lunchtime or classes or a 9-to-5. All of my observations are caveat'd by the fact that I am ridiculously lucky to have the kind of freedom of movement and schedule that I can focus entirely on getting to know my brain better.

When it comes to staying focused on any one project, I've reluctantly concluded that the only way to win is not to play. Creativity needs time and diversity to recharge, and when you stall out in any given work session, it's usually because you're out of gas. This is why I maintain several projects in varying stages of "for my eyes only"-ness - a sketchbook, private writing projects, patreon doodles, music practice; even in the large-scale projects like the channel and the comic I have multiple angles of attack at any given time, where I can as needed switch between scripting, research, drawing frames, storyboarding more plot onto the end of the comic's current draft and lining/coloring/background-ing the finalized pages of the comic chapters earlier. This lets me maintain semi-steady progress on average, even if any one facet of the process is left by the wayside for potentially even weeks at a time.

If you're working on one writing project, one novel, I'd recommend giving yourself some time to do small-scale side-hobbies. It won't feel like they're helping, but they are.

I've started to think of inspiration rather similarly to the way I think about nutrition and digestion. It's a somewhat arcane process that, despite being a part of me, I don't exactly understand what's going on under the hood. If you eat only one thing, no matter what that one thing is, you're going to end up sick because you're lacking all sorts of niche micronutrients. If you parcel out a specific space of the only things you're allowed to eat, you might not get sick (as quickly) but you're likely going to become increasingly miserable as you think of the things you're not allowing yourself to try, or slowly build up highly specific forms of malnourishment by avoiding certain things entirely. But if you start listening to your body and try eating what it says it needs at any given time - oh, I could go for a rice bowl right now, oh I don't think I'm feeling something sugary today, man I could really go for some grapes - you're likely to hit a broadly good balance of health because you're hitting a broad range of things your body needs, even if you don't know all of their names or calorie counts, and your body is putting those resources to good use without your conscious input. Between my brain and my stomach, I only trust one of those to actually understand what a stomach needs to do its thing - and between me and my creative brain, most of the time it feels like I just work here.

I hope there was something helpful in all this!

#asks #not aurora #writing stuff

[marvelslut16]

The Incident

Prompt number: 14 "If you don't stop now-"

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Swearing. Cannon typical gore- but not too detailed. Insecure reader. Mean Steve. Nightmares. Demodogs. Embarrassing parents.

A/N: This bad boy has been sitting in my drafts for over a year now, I'm so glad I found the motivation to finish it and post it for Fictober!

You’re leaned up against the counter at family video as Steve complains for what feels like the thousandth time about how much he misses Nancy. You roll your eyes at Robin who’s standing behind the counter as Steve’s voice carries over the shelves of the empty store. The entire time you’ve known Steve he’s been obsessed with Nancy, and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. She’s not that special and she clearly doesn’t love him. 

“You’re such a masochist,” you sigh when he comes back to the counter to get more VHS’ to put away. 

“A what?” his voice is hard, he’s confused by the word but he knows the implication is insulting. 

“A masochist, it means you like pain and humiliation,” Steve is glaring at you, and not a playful one you're used to, this one is full of hatred. You know you should stop, especially with the look he’s giving you, but your mouth has a mind of its own and it just keeps talking. “I mean seriously, that's the only reason I can think of that you’re still acting like this. Nancy’s with Jonathan, she’s in love with him. Hence why she’s visiting him in California over break right now. She’s also told me that she doesn’t want kids and you’ve said more than once that you want your own little basketball team, you two will never work out. I don’t mean to be rude or mean in any way, I just don’t want you to keep hurting yourself over someone who isn’t into you.”

“I don’t know why you think I’d take relationship advice from someone who’s never been in one. You were a nobody before I met you, and let’s face it, you’re still a nobody now,” you can feel tears welling up at his words, but you refuse to cry in front of him, refuse to give him the satisfaction of your tears. It hurts so much because he’s voicing your inner fears, he must not be lying if he feels how you imagined he must be feeling. “The only reason you have friends is because you clung to us after the whole demodog incident, you didn’t give us a choice.”

“Steve!” Robin jumps in, seeing the hurt on your face and the tears in your eyes. She knows Steve is only lashing out because you’re right and he doesn’t want to admit it, but she can also tell that he’s about to lose your friendship. “If you don’t stop now-”

“It’s fine Robin,” you can’t muster a voice louder than a whisper. “Steve’s right, I have no room to talk. My break at the arcade is almost over, so I better get going.”

You spend the rest of your shift behind the counter as silent tears slip down your cheeks. Steve’s words replaying in your head over and over again, your heart fracturing more and more each time. You’re disappointed, but not surprised, when Steve doesn’t stop in to check on you and apologize when his shift is over. You know Robin would have stopped in to talk, had Steve not been driving her home after work. 

The next few days are a blur of tears and work. You don’t go over to family video once, and he doesn’t come to the arcade. Robin calls you every night to try and get you to open up about your feelings, but you never do. You wish she would just let it go and let you go back to not having friends, just like Steve said. And when the party, minus Mike- who’s still in California, come into the arcade and you hope they won’t notice you. 

“Hey (Y/N)!” Dustin spots you almost instantly, you sigh at the promise of his meddling. “Are we still on for movie night this weekend? Forcing Steve to watch the best trilogy known to man?”

“I can’t this weekend Dustin,” your heart hurts a little when the boy's excited grin turns into a frown. But you have to remind yourself that none of them actually care for you, they only include you in things because you’ve forced yourself on them. 

“Okay, when are you free next week?” he tries to reschedule, but you won’t fall for his caring act.

“I’m not, school starts back up next week and I won’t have time between that and work to have a movie night. You two have it without me, you’ll probably have more fun anyway.”

Dustin walks away confused and dejected, but there isn’t much else for you to say. It’s awkward the rest of your shift, the party spending all day there, where they throw glances your way the whole time. As if your day couldn’t get any worse, when your mom picks you up from work, she wants to go to Family Video and rent a movie for family night this weekend. 

“So you’re Steve and Robin?” your mom asks, setting Back To The Future on the counter. It took her twenty long minutes to decide on a movie that she’s already rented, twice. 

“Yes ma’am,” Robin answers, using her professional voice. You take small steps back, seeing the writing on the wall, you desperately want to get out of there before she can continue. 

“Well I’ll be,” your mom lets out a little laugh. “When my (Y/N) said she was friends with the Robin and Steve that work here, I never would have guessed she meant Steve Harrington, former star of the Hawkins basketball and Swim teams.”

“(Y/N/N) is great,” Steve says awkwardly, like he’s trying to force something nice about you out. “We’ve been friends for a few years now.”

“Mom, can we go now?” you practically beg, wanting nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

“C’mon sweetie, I’m just trying to meet your friends,” she turns back to the two behind the counter. “She just goes on and on about you two, all good things of course! I’m just so happy she’s made such good friends.”

“Okay mom,” you whine, taking another step back. “You’ve embarrassed me enough, let's just hurry up and rent the movie.”

Thankfully, Robin takes pity on you and quickly starts ringing your mother up, but not without trying to upsell her some candy because it will give her a commission. Your mom finally settles on buying some Sno Caps, and you can practically taste sweet freedom as she hands Robin some cash. But Steve ruins that when he opens his big fat- gorgeous- mouth. 

“(Y/N/N), we finally got Fright Night in, if you still want to rent it,” you wrinkle your nose, it was a movie you were supposed to watch with him and Robin, far far away from your parents. 

“That horror movie?” your mom asks in disgust, giving you an obvious look of disappointment. “She’s not allowed to watch horror movies, especially not with all of her nightmares!”

“Mom, please,” you mutter, trying to pull her away from the counter, away from Steve, and out of the damn store.

“Nightmares?” Steve asks, his face instantly softening. “You’ve never told me about your nightmares.”

“She wakes up screaming about some stupid dogs,” your mother tells him, and your eyes well up with tears of embarrassment. “It’s every single night.”

Steve’s words from earlier this week play in your head on repeat ‘you clung to us after the demodog incident, you didn’t give us a choice.’ It feels like all of the air is being sucked out of your lungs as your mom reveals your deepest darkest secret- one she’ll never understand. She’ll never understand what it was like that day, wandering through the woods when all of a sudden this dog-like creature with a cone head is standing in front of you and its face opening like a deadly flower. She’ll never know what it was like being knocked off her feet when that thing jumped on her and only being saved at the very last minute when the King of Hawkins himself whacked that thing off with a nailed bat. She’ll never know what it was like to be that close to death, that close to just being another Barb, disappearing without a trace.

Of course it haunts you, it was a near death experience, and you certainly can’t talk to a professional about it. No one would believe you, and they would probably lock you up in some mental institution if you ever muttered a word of it. You do your best to forget it day in and day out, but every time night rolls around you always remember every single detail; like how hot the demodogs breath was, or how many rows of teeth it had, how heavy it was on top of you.

“I’m gonna go now,” you hold back the tears as you race out the movie store’s front door. You can feel the burning gazes of both Steve and Robin on your retreating figure, but you can’t be by them. You can’t explain this to them. You’re going to have to move within the next day or two so you don’t have to face them ever again. 

The ride home from the movie store is dead silent, not even an apology from your mother for telling your friends about your nightmares. All you get from her are side eyes and glares, you can tell she’s silent seething because you were planning to disobey her and watch a horror movie. What she doesn’t understand is that horror movies help, the fake gore and the illogical plots somehow comfort you and make you feel better about what you’ve gone through. 

You go straight to your room, forgoing dinner to just sob into your pillow. Not only have you lost your friends, but now they know just how pathetic you truly are. All you have are nightmare after nightmare, waking up screaming and crying more times than you can count. This time Steve doesn’t come to rescue you, he just stares from the sidelines with that same glare he gave you the day of the fight, and no one else tries to step in and help you. You’re all alone. 

No matter how bad of a night you had, or how much you begged to stay home from work, your mother forced you to go. She drives you there and waits outside until you go in, you can see through the windows that she waited a whole five minutes before leaving so you can’t sneak out. The drive over she was going on and on about responsibility and being an adult, and how you can’t just bail on your duties because you had one bad night. You would’ve come to work today no problem, tired but with no complaints, if the Arcade wasn’t right next to Family Video. Right next to Steve. 

Most of your day goes smoothly, just rowdy preteens playing the twenty arcade games you have squished in there, nothing horrible happening. That is until around two in the afternoon when the door jingles and your eyes zero in on that unmistakable hair in the doorway. You contemplate running and hiding in the back room, but losing your job for leaving the floor unmanned is the last thing you want or need to add to the very large load of crap your life is becoming. 

Even if you had decided to hide in the back room, Steve is in front of you at the counter quicker than you could have hid. You refuse to look him in the eye, instead looking at the shiny nametag glinting in the few overhead lights. He stares at you for what feels like forever before finally sighing and then talking.

“Why didn’t you tell me you have nightmares?” he cuts right to the chase,, his voice is monotonous and you can’t tell if he’s trying to sympathize with you or come off condescending. 

“We all have our secrets,” you sneer, not understanding why he’s being nice to you all of a sudden. “It’s not like you care, so just drop it.”

“You don’t mean that-” you cut him off with a glare, finally looking into his puppy dog eyes. The ones you used to melt in every time he looked at you.

“Like hell I don’t!” you whisper harshly, not trying to draw attention from the kids in the Arcade. “You don’t care. Steve. So for both of our sakes, please stop pretending like you do. What I said the other day was harsh, but I meant it from a place of love and caring. What you said the other day was a low blow and said to hurt me. Let’s just go back to how things used to be, neither of us acknowledging that the other exists.”

You turn to go hide in the back room, job security be damned, you just need to get away from Steve. He can’t see you cry over him, you refuse to let him. But his hand catches your wrist, spinning you around to face him again.

“I do care about you (Y/N), and I didn’t mean what I said,” he grips your hand harder, pulling you closer to the class case that divides you. “I was embarrassed because you were right, you always are, and I wasn’t ready to hear it. If I could go back and keep myself from saying those things, I would do it in a heartbeat!”

“Your life will be just fine without me, and soon enough you’ll just forget about me, I’ll just be that girl you see around town, the one you used to know.”

“No it won’t, don’t say that!” Steve cups your face, making sure you make eye contact with him before continuing. “Life without you would suck, it would be so boring. What would I do without that adorable little giggle you make when I tell a horrible joke? Or the way you ramble excitedly about the things you love? Or the cute way you scrunch your nose when you're confused or embarrassed? What would I do without your goodnight calls and our coordinated lunch breaks? How would I survive without you lighting up every single room you walk in? Without you lighting up my life? You’re everything to me (Y/N), and I’m sorry it took me losing you to realize it. And if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to you for what I said and doing my best to scare away those nightmares.”

“Do you really mean that?” you sniffle, a single tear falling from your eye. 

“I do, I mean it,” Steve says with so much conviction as he wipes the tear from your cheek. “I love you. Not Nancy, you. It’ll always be you.”

“I love you too, I always have,” your wet laugh is cut off by a searing kiss.  

#fictober23 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things one shot #steve harrington one shot

[uhdrienne]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

03. broadcast?

🌼feat: wonwoo x reader (written and smau), fluff, angst, hometown chachacha!inspired

🌼summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼word count: 2,297 words

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"So you're moving in?" Wonwoo asks as you finish up your fifth phone call of the day.

"Guess so," you shrug as you tuck your phone back into your pocket. "I got a moving company to help me with my stuff. Not everything, since I'll be going back in a few months."

He nods thoughtfully. "And you'll need a place to stay, I'm guessing."

You look at him. "I'm not staying with you. Don't try that."

"Calm down, Miss Doctor. I'm not ever offering my place up. You'll need to pay rent for that anyway. I can arrange a meeting with a landlord for you if you need it."

"How do I know I can trust you?" You narrow your eyes.

"I know everyone in this town." Wonwoo replies without missing a beat, in the tone that grates on your nerves. "What's it going to be? I'm a busy man."

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Miss Kim is nice. Probably the nicest person in the town ever.

She drafts up a contract swiftly right in the local bookshop after your discussion about your housing arrangement with the help of Wonwoo, who serves as your middleman. She also starts talking about a small clinic space for you.

"So just pay the stipulated monthly rent in the duration of the last week of every month and you're good." Miss Kim summarises after you've both signed the handwritten contract.

"Alright," you say.

Miss Kim smiles. "It's been a while since we've had any newcomers in the town. You're going to have a good time."

"I doubt that," you reply quietly, but Miss Kim waves you off.

"Wonwoo," she turns to the man sitting next to you. "I'll leave the renovating to you and the boys? Not sure about the plumbing situation, but-"

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

"No worries," Wonwoo reassures the middle-aged woman, a warm smile on his face. "Shua and Kwan are pretty free around this time. We'll handle it. And it's for a clinic, that's important. We'll sort that out too."

"Oh, you angel," the woman sighs happily. "Well, that's one load off. Y/N, dear, I'll see you soon when you move in. No need to worry about anything. Wonwoo, Joshua, and Seungkwan will handle it for you. Goodness, I've never seen boys who work better with wrenches than they do!"

She gets to her feet, and by default both you and Wonwoo stand up too. "I have to head off," she adds ruefully. "My- Mr Woo, I mean, needs someone to collect the trash bags again."

You bow as she leaves, and spin towards Wonwoo. "You do renovation?"

"Reno, plumbing, painting, wallpaper installation, carpenting, whatever makes up a house." He smirks. "Do you need my services, Miss Doctor?"

"I'm not trusting you with my house."

He rolls his eyes and groans. "Not this again."

"It's serious!" You retort. "I want to stay in a nice place for the 3 months I'm here-"

The flap of a booklet cuts you off.

Wonwoo has opened a whole damn book of certifications. Encased in transparent pockets, they tumble down, showcasing their sheer number in all its glory. And they reflect exactly what he says, you note as you scan down the list. He has government-issued licenses for renovation, as an estate agent, plumbing, wallpaper, carpenting, and no way... he's a licensed barista? A certified mechanic??

"Not so anxious anymore?" Wonwoo chuckles as he looks at your dumbfounded expression. "You-"

"Come on," he says, slinging his backpack across his shoulder. "You should go home, it's getting late. Come back soon so you can take a look at the house and the clinic plot."

He fishes out his phone. "What's your number?" After you give it to him reluctantly, he lifts a hand in goodbye as he strides out of the shop, leaving you.

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"You're moving?!"

"Why ae you so surprised?"

"You're a city girl through and through, YN LN," your friend announces. "You whine when you have to take the stairs instead of a lift in the mall. There is no way you're upping and leaving to a place where they don't even take cards."

"I asked this guy to get them fixed," you shrug. "And it's just for three months, I'm not staying forever."

"I know you just have to do something rash when you see kids in need, YN," your friend sighs. "The time when you decided to donate half your first paycheck to feed underprivileged kids? Or the time when you organised a sale in twelve hours during college to fund medicine supply for-"

"Okay, shut up!" You turn to your friend, flustered, who's laughing unabashedly now. "The kids in that town don't have a clinic. The adults and grandparents don't either. And t's a private establishment, so I'll earn a lot of money while I'm there. There's a Louis Vuitton bag I've been eyeing."

Your friend laughs again, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Sure. Whatever you say."

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"Hi. I'm Joshua, everyone calls me Shua. And that's Seungkwan over there."

The two good natured men smile at you and you bow back stiffly. Beside them, Wonwoo is pacing the area that is soon to be your house, tape measure in hand.

"Hello."

"So, our newest addition!" Seungkwan smiles. "We're trying to plan your interior deco, what are you thinking of?"

"Fabric wallpaper," you reply immediately. "In taupe or grey. I'm thinking beige furniture, gives it a minimalist vibe?"

Seungkwan opens his mouth, presumably to suggest something else, but Joshua cuts in smoothly, smiling at you. "No problem. It's great that you know what you want."

At last, finally someone who gets you. "Thanks," you say stiffly, letting out a tight smile.

Wonwoo seems to be done with the measurements, as he keeps his tape measure. "Shua, Kwan, I'll take Miss Doctor to see the clinic plot. Be back soon."

"Okay!"

Wonwoo beckons to you. "Come on then."

A swift ten minutes later, you're standing in the middle of the clinic space.

"This could be the observation room," you mutter to yourself. "Or the office."

You deem the place good enough to move into. Plenty of natural light, a spacious front room, and a few more rooms at the back for observation rooms and your own office.

"Send me what you want for the wallpaper and all that," Wonwoo says, as you both leave the place and he gets ready to head back to your future house. "And it's minimum wage per hour for all three of us. We take bank transfers."

"What?"

Wonwoo smirks. "This isn't the city, but we don't work for free. I'll send you the details, you can just pay us when we're finished."

You gape at him. "I- of course I'm going to pay you! Who do you think I am, a leech?"

He shrugs. "Whatever you say. Anyway, I'll contact you when we're done, but the office might take a while more. Bye."

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Dear Miss YN LN,

Thank you for your letter regarding your placement at the pediatrics unit here at Seoul University Hospital. Unfortunately, we cannot make the necessary re-arrangements as the other doctor mentioned has already started his five-year term with us. As we are in the process of preparing for the start of your contract, you were given the three months delay before you begin work.

Do advise us on what we can do to improve the situation as we hope to provide you with a positive working experience. We look forward to your reply.

Warmest Regards

Seoul University Hospital

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Three Weeks Later

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"Looks okay."

"Just 'okay'?" Wonwoo scoffs. "Shua spent all weekend putting up that fancy wallpaper you wanted."

"I thought you could deliver whatever your clients wanted," You hiss. Delia's eyes flick between both of you, seemingly in amusement.

"Thanks, Chief Jeon. YN's a little picky, but the place looks great!" She interrupts, and you shoot her a glare.

"No worries, Miss..?" Wonwoo smiles at her.

"Just call me Delia! YN, you stay here. I'm going to check the town out, yeah?" And before you can respond, she's out of the newly renovated house.

"She knows you," Wonwoo points out, reaching down to pick his haversack up. "You're prickly and bad-tempered, and-"

"Don't finish that."

He chuckles, fixing his belt. "Anyway, Seungkwan wanted me to pass you a message. The villagers heard we have a doctor staying here for a while, so they want to invite you to a village dinner tonight. Come if you're free, and take the chance to know them better, would you?"

"I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on! You can promote your clinic at the same time, no? Those things are usually pretty fun."

You perk up slightly and he notices. He lets out a laugh. "See you there. Bring your friend if you want to so you're not alone."

Unfortunately, Delia isn't free, what with her taking the night shift at her nursing job in a Seoul hospital. She leaves with the promise to call you when she's free to chat, and you head to the location on your own.

You bow stiffly to the three grandmas who taught you how to handle squid as they pass you, and they chuckle and pat your hand. Cringing at the feeling of old, wrinkled hands on you but saying nothing, you head towards a familiar face.

"Oh YN! Didn't think I'd see you here!" Joshua remarks cheerfully, holding tongs and standing over a portable grill sizzling with seafood. "Here, I'll grab you a plate. These prawns came in fresh, so you get first dibs off the grill!"

"YN! Over here!" Seungkwan's voice catches your attention, and you turn to see him waving you in the direction of his table. Next to him, playing with a young girl, is the chief you least want to see.

Joshua lets out a hearty laugh as he passes you a plate, laden with seafood and meat and rice. "Eat up. Stay with Seungkwan if you're a little awkward, he'll keep the conversation flowing."

You thank him a little quietly before making your way to the table. As you settle, a middle-aged man reaches to shake your hand.

"Mr Woo," He says, a little gruffly but still pleasantly. "I work in the village bank."

"Bank...?" You ask. "I didn't see one when I-" You stop yourself before the embarrassing story of you trying to retrieve your pride pours out.

"Oh! It's a small one, near the convenience store. It's quite secluded so you probably didn't catch it." Mr Woo doesn't seem fazed as he explains. Seungkwan throws his head back and laughs, "I had a hell of a time trying to find it when it was first built!"

The conversation starts and you try to listen, but it's just not the same. You're only used to chats about tough medical cases and patients, never about the day's currents, the catches from the sea, and the trash collection on Saturday mornings. You only pretend to be distracted when you see the chatterbox Miss Hwang arrive. You don't really want another debate with her.

Luckily, Delia's call when the clock approaches 9 gives you a mild reprieve. You excuse yourself and close the door to the small room at the back. It looks like the broadcast room, with a small mic there. You swipe accept on Delia's call.

"Hey, girl!" her voice rings across the line. "How's the dinner?"

"Awful," You sigh as you ean against the mic shelf. "I haven't mentioned my clinic once, and all they talk about is the day's fish!"

"Don't be such a grump," Delia teases. "That's a nice topic, you know. Life there seems so idyllic, I'd so take that over this any day."

"No you don't," You reply tiredly. "They're all so simple -- too simple it's aggravating. The chatterbox lady insisted on playing the strangest music earlier, and I wish I hadn't said I was staying here, now I have to put up and pretend I'm interested in their way of life!"

"You might like it there. The people seem pretty nice," Delia persists. Fortunately, her nagging is cut short by a call of her name, presumably from another nurse. "Shoot. I gotta go."

"Go on," you mutter. "I'll find an excuse to leave soon or something."

With a goodbye the call ends, and you mentally prep yourself to head out again.

But when you leave, you don't hear the excited hum of chatter among the villagers. Not the weird trot music Miss Hwang insisted on playing. Save for the sizzle of the grill, the whole space is silent. Every single villager's eyes follow you. Even Miss Hwang has fallen silent for once, pupils dilated in seemingly shock.

You swallow. "What?"

You turn in Seungkwan's direction. Joshua's. And Wonwoo's. The other two men aren't meeting your gaze at all, but Wonwoo is looking up and directly at you. His eyes don't have the same spark they did when you saw him earlier. They've hardened in anger and disappointment, and his jaw has tightened considerably. Joshua's deliberately looking everywhere else except for in your direction, and Mr Woo's pretending to pick at nonexistent fuzz on his clothes. Seungkwan can't even meet your eye.

You're stuck in momentary confusion until it hits you in a wave of shock and panic. The mic. The mic in the room must have been turned on the whole damn time. Your words had been broadcasted for everyone there to hear.

Your face and ears burn red, and you stride over to the table, as quickly as your shaky legs can handle, grab your bag and leave. No one follows you or tries to stop you to explain yourself.

You've stunned the whole town into silence.

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oh noooooo

💌 taglist: @gaslysainz @lev1hei1chou

prev. masterlist. next.

wonwoo x reader (smau, written)

#svt fic #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo seventeen #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo x you #seventeen x reader #wonwoo svt #svt fanfic #svt fics #jeon wonwoo fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #kpop

[aizawaskittenwhore]

august first—r. braun

summary: you fuck reiner as a birthday gift. that’s pretty much it.

notes/content warnings: rough sex, facefucking, degradation, choking, some angst cause relationships are messy, unprotected p in v sex cause we raw dog over here, armin is a sweetheart and eren needs to go to bed, i think i covered everything but let me know if i missed anythin!

this was meant to be a birthday piece for rei 😔*stares in september * to be completely honest i have zero idea how long this ended up being but it’s been taking up space in my drafts and i kinda freestyled it so enjoy sexies <3

the floor is sticky with liquor, limestone tiles splotched with little islands of red as reiner’s body meets it, it’s surface tacky beneath his flushed skin. his head lolls back against the dial of his dishwasher, seeming to relish in the surrounding moment. the apartment is quiet with the din of murmured voices, gentle rustling of keys , someone slipping on a jacket, a faint “who’s riding with jean?” uttered from one of the many intoxicated partygoers; as for who , he does not know.

all reiner is aware of is the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears, body warm with the coat of whiskey, the glow of his solar return pervading the sallows of his face from the previous year’s torment; as if filling a once-deflated balloon with air yet again.

confetti has woven itself into the carpet, solo cups littering the surrounding dining room, a cake still sits on the table, half-eaten. “happy birthday reiner” it read, for a total of ten minutes. only reiner’s name remains due to your insistence that the birthday boy should get to eat his own name, and in pure self-adoring leo fashion, he co-signed.

and there his name sits, beneath its hard plastic shell as his gifts are sprawled around, some big, some small; though reiner had insisted that presents weren’t necessary by any means, you all came together to at least get him a few things to remember the day by. and what a day it had been. he was grateful. and so, so drunk.

his body suddenly takes a dive to the right—he had failed to realize his passive swaying from side to side and lost his balance—his face finds itself directly in your lap, nose mere inches away from knocking over a rather tall bottle of grey goose lingering not too far from your current position. you’re not much better than he is, face flushed and your smile dazed, as you begin to card your fingers through his hair, seemingly unaffected by his sudden landing.

“hey, we’re gonna head out.” armin says, footsteps lightly sticking with every step he takes further into the kitchen. he grimaces at the noise, but says nothing, in favor of checking on the pair of you. yet before he can utter the words “are you guys alright?” a hefty grip on armin’s wrist from the stockier blond sends armin to his knees, discombobulating the shorter man momentarily before he was met with a fierce hug.

“thank you..for coming.” reiner had been struggling to properly pronounce his syllables since the fourth round of tequila shots with eren, but those four words were the most coherent he’d been all night. the sentiment wasn’t lost on armin, and he returned the embrace, even if his lungs felt the slightest bit compressed the longer they hugged. “n-no problem!” armin pats his back thrice and shifts his gaze to you once reiner pulls away and nestles into your lap yet again. “would you like a ride home? you and sasha live not too far from each other, so it’s on our way.” he offers, so thoughtful as always. you begin to nod your head, thinking of the throbbing sensation that’ll soon swim within your temples, your lack of a change of clothes, along with numerous other things—

“i don’t mind if you stay..” reiner mumbles, a hand swirling patterns into your thigh. “never have, you used to sleep over all the time. i still got your toothbrush, s’ in my bathroom” he’s drunk, there’s no nuance , it sounds so scandalous when he says it like that and yet your heart picks up when he says your toothbrush is still in your space in his bathroom. you contemplate his words, given that it’s two minutes shy of one am (from what you can make out via a blurred glance at the microwave), and it is rather late..

armin surveys the two of you with a knowing glance, choosing to once again say nothing. he’s always been one for reading between the lines, clearly there’s some unspoken tension between you and the birthday boy, a history even. “n-not like that.” you laugh, pulse quickening as you try to divert armin’s attention from reiner’s hand attempting to work its way up your thigh, minuscule movements of his hand feeling like leaps and bounds over your already heated skin. “there was a time where i was going through some shit, so reiner let me hang here for a little while. it’s not nearly as..uh..intimate as it sounds.” your voice is low, your head leaned towards armin.

“i don’t mind sleeping here though. it’s one in the morning, and you’ve already gotta take sasha and eren’s drunk ass home. i’ll be good here.” a smile, and a gentle hand on armin’s shoulder is enough for him to leave you with reiner for the night.

“text me if you need anything, okay?”

mikasa‘s jacket and eren’s vomit crusted dress shirt clink amongst armin’s keys as he makes his way to the door (the shirt is tied in a plastic bag, he’s not a psycho).

‘maybe the mad dog jello shots were a bit much’, you think, saying your goodbyes to everyone as they stumble down the remainder of the driveway, jean corralling each person into their designated cars, and silently regretting his decision to double up with armin tonight to drive. it doesn’t help that he’s shoeless, considering eren yacked all over those too. it’s not funny, but it is, and you laugh as the door clicks behind you.

parties have a very poignant atmosphere.

they fill the space and somehow suck the air out of it once it’s over. but what you feel right now has nothing to do with the party and everything to do with the tension between you and reiner. who seems to have disappeared from his spot on the kitchen floor and made his way to the shower, leaving behind a trail of clothes in his wake. his loft is spacious, open floor plans met with a man’s taste in furniture (which equates to the bare minimum, sadly) and sumptuous windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. it’s one way glass, can’t see in but you can see out, rather convenient considering reiner had a very bad habit of never wanting to wear clothes around the house. case and point, the calvin klein boxers strewn across his floor. ‘jesus, even when he’s drunk he’s a slob.’ you think, grimacing as you reach for them in an attempt to chuck them into the nearby hamper—

“sorry for the mess.” he mutters, stepping out of shower as a plume of steam clings to the nearby mirror. towel hanging from his waist, hair slick with water. the scent of his soap and deodorant envelop you as he walks past, rifling through his dresser in an attempt to find clothes for the both of you. from the quick glance at his figure you’d allowed yourself, you quickly deduce that reiner finally made good on that crossfit membership he’d been blabbing about for the last three months. he was always handsome, always with a body that looked like it was carved from stone but the torso you’re looking at (and shouldn’t be) has gotten a major upgrade. ‘this is a bad idea’ you think to yourself, wondering how you allowed a spur of the moment decision lead you back into a bedroom you swore you’d never step foot in again.

you weren’t lying to armin when you said that the conditions of you staying with reiner weren’t romantic, that part was true; but the last time you were in this house, this room, things weren’t exactly…platonic.

“i found these, pretty sure you forgot em when you were leaving.”

a grey t-shirt and a pair of panties plop onto the bed where you sit, and you cringe upon the realization that you’d even left anything here to begin with. he offers you a pair of his sweatpants to help preserve your dignity, but you decline, knowing there’s no way they’d fit you.

“you remember where the towels are, yeah?”

you nod. third door to the left, past the coffee maker.

“cool. use whatever’s in there, i don’t care. i’ll be in the living room, so if you need somethin’ just yell.”

you give him a thumbs up as you disappear into the bathroom, the humidity mimicking the haziness of your mind as it begins to wander, your hands slippery with soap as you run the cloth over the curve of your hip, the same way he did that night.

“fuckkkk.” the sight before you is delicious, blonde burrowing it’s way between your thighs as reiner tongues your clit; a man starved. lust has taken over the bedroom, coiling around the two of you and winding so tight you feel as though you might burst, but if this is what it feels like to be consumed, you don’t mind one bit. he’s rutting against the bed desperately, your moans sending him into a frenzy; his mouth pools with your essence and he can barely contain himself. he adds his ring and middle finger to the equation, sensing you need more, just the slightest bit extra to bring you to paradise and you keen with pleasure.

“don’t stop..m’ gonna cum..” you’re shaking now, thighs shuddering around his ears and your pulse begins to throb so hard you can feel it in your temples, each wave of dopamine crashing over you, into you; you’ve never gotten head like that before. trust, you’d remember if you had. his tongue wanders in the mess you’ve made between your legs, and his face is no exception. your slick glistens in the cropped cut of his facial hair, and before you can utter a word of embarrassment, his tongue is giving you a taste of what he’d worked so hard to pull from you. the kiss is filthy, lips slotted together with strings of saliva; they break like bubbles when you pull away for air.

“shit!” lost in reverie, you’d failed to notice the increasing temperature of the shower water until it scalds your skin, shocking you back to the present moment. soft linen wraps around your body, soothing the harsh burn, legs still shining with droplets as you towel off, noting that you smell just like reiner does; but you’d rather not ride that train of thought. you make your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, brow raising as you realize his slice of cake is missing.

“the fuck?”

“what’s wrong?” floats from the living room.

“the hell happened to your cake?” you peer around the corner, and find the answer to your question stuffing his face. “nevermind.” you laugh, taking a seat on the couch, a cushion separating the both of you. he gestures with his left hand, offering a fork full; you take it, given that you’re both still not sober and this slice of sponge cake is the closest thing you’ve had to food in the last few hours. buttercream icing coats the roof of your mouth and you moan in sheer joy.

“oh my god.”

“right? shits’ so good” reiner mumbles, already on his last bite. his eyes are closed in bliss and you can’t help but feel jealous, you ache to be the cause of his expression rather than some slice of confectionery. little do you know, when your head turns, his eyes rake up the expanse of your bare thighs, resolve crumbling little by little. you’re beautiful, beyond it. he fights the urge to caress you and settles for a loaded question:

“why’d you say that to armin?”

“say what?” you respond. you’re avoiding his gaze intentionally, you know exactly what he’s asking about, this just isn’t the time.

“that it ‘wasn’t like that’ when i said you could stay the night.” the fork clatters against the cardboard of the cake box, filling the silence for a second, but it does nothing to ease the awkwardness of this interaction. “because it’s the truth? i didn’t start staying here so we could be fuck buddies—“

“—but that’s what happened, right?”

“reiner. don’t start this again.” you warn, tone firm. it’s not that you don’t want to talk about this, it’s been weighing on your heart since the night you left, but what could you say? you were running from the problems in your relationship and escaped into the arms of someone you called a friend, and very quickly that became much more than a friendship. the man your boyfriend couldn’t stand became your shoulder to cry on, and dick to ride. and in the end, everyone got hurt. you included.

“how’s galliard?” his voice seems harmless, but you sense the smugness that lies beneath.

“really? now?”

“it’s just a question.”

a pause.

“i haven’t seen him since..you know. we’ve spoken though. he seems to be doing alright, i think.” you answer. you briefly remember a photo dump he posted coming across your feed, he was in the netherlands with his brother last you heard, but that’s as much as you know. you’ve kept your distance from your ex since the fallout of your breakup, and for good reason. considering the last time you’d spoken, he’d told you that he “hopes it was worth it” and that you were dead to him.

you couldn’t be mad. if the roles were reversed, you’d have probably said the same.

the relationship (despite its relatively short run of five months) was volatile, and galliard has never had a desire to communicate with people in a way that isn’t riddled with hostility and aggression. it was the source of many arguments, and “i’m sorry” voicemails. one night you got sick of it, the pettiness, tit for tat, the pointed indirect insults in front of friends, the building of resentment every day you stayed together; so you left, needing to clear some space in your already heavy heart. a bag hurriedly packed, you’d found yourself at the door of a friend who you knew would have questions, but would never judge.

but friends don’t do the things you have done with one another.

“why did you invite me tonight?” since we’re asking loaded questions.

the text came as a surprise, a simple invitation and an address linked in a text message: ‘hey. my friends are throwing me a birthday party tonight. my house. i was wondering if you wanted to come. it’s cool if not, here’s my address tho in case you forgot it’

“i wanted to see you.”

“bullshit.” you scoff.

“why would i lie? you know how i feel about you.”

a pause.

“prove it.” the reposado speaks for you now, and you’re feeling dangerously curious to see just how far reiner will go. intoxication makes for a great truth serum, you’ve learned. he balks at your challenge, pupils shattering and reforming all at once as he attempts to snap himself out of whatever daydream he’s conjured. it has to be, there’s no way you’re sat so prettily on his couch making “fuck me” eyes, with a sliver of your panties visible beneath that thin fucking shirt. it’s a dream. has to be.

a chuckle. “you’re fuckin with me, right?” reiner’s fidgeting slightly, trying not to draw your attention to his increasing arousal.

“not even a little bit.” you’re so close he can feel your breath ghosting along his lips, a hair away from unleashing the pent up sexual tension between the both of you, but you don’t move any further. “i feel kinda bad..you invited me to your party, and i didn’t even get you a gift.” you pout.

“you can make it up to me.”

he’s finally gotten the courage to make the first move, securing both hands around your waist and tugging you into his lap. your clit pulses almost rhythmically when your lips meet, and the noises he’s making aren’t helping. “take these off.” he groans, plucking the waistband of your panties. you oblige his request, but the cool air still makes you shiver when your back hits the couch, legs spread. his eyes rake up your body, once, twice, before his middle and ring fingers take their place spreading your lips; they trace circles around your clit once they’ve spread enough of your juices around to slicken things up, but he’s just getting started. all the little gasps and cracks in your voice drive him insane, and while reiner loves to tease, he couldn’t wait any longer to taste you. locking himself between your thighs, his arms securing your legs around his head, he makes sure to hold on to your hips when he begins to suck on your clit. there’s no running for you, not when you’ve been dangling this pussy in front of him all evening. his tongue is fluid, slippery when it strokes your sensitive nub from every direction, he’s everywhere and somehow you still want more. “feels so good..don’t stop—” you beg, hips bucking into his face. he loves seeing you so fucked out, so desperate to cum all over his tongue, it only encourages him more as his fingers curl against that spot that makes your vision dip, and you gush all over his lips and jaw. your face burns with arousal and mild embarrassment, but he couldn’t be more pleased.

“can’t believe you let me eat this pussy ..and you made me watch you cum all over my face…such a slut.” he mumbles, his tongue still running laps around your clit. still throbbing, still sensitive. your body shivers and shakes with the continuous sensation, but reiner couldn’t care less. he licks and sucks with reckless abandon for a minute or two longer, before finally detaching himself from you, and giving your body reprieve. you struggle to catch your breath, your attention now drawn to the tented fabric below reiner’s torso. knowing it’s a shitty thing to think of in the current moment, you can’t help but lament at just how much thicker he is than your ex.

then again, reiner braun has never been, especially physically, average.

you splay your hands across his length as he pulls you in, neurons firing when you taste yourself on his tongue. he groans into your mouth, his eyes fluttering when you’re stroking and twisting your hand like that—

a brief disconnection of your lips forces his eyes open, but it’s worth it when he gets to sear the mental image of you spitting into his dick into his eyelids for eternity. your hand strokes the hottest noises out of him, the schlick-schlick of your motions only getting faster when filth begins to pour from his lips.

“mhm. just like that—fuck, i missed my nasty girl.”

you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before. and that’s saying a lot, genuinely. your tongue winds around his tip, settling against the underside of his shaft as you descend; the remainder of his dick is in your right hand as you work him over. your efforts matter little though, as reiner has other plans for your tight, tight throat. his hand settles at the base of your neck, winding his fingers at the root of your hair, and grips. rocking you backwards and forwards, he bullies his cock into your throat, and he nearly cums when he watches your eyes well up with tears; at first you panic at the activation of your gag reflex, but your throat slowly relaxes once you realize resistance is futile.

“take it…ah, shit—just like that mama, feels so fuckin good..such a good girl when im fuckin your face” he praises through gritted teeth, pumping himself with your throat a few more times before stopping, and changing your position so that the two of you were in missionary. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you soaked whenever he’d handle you so roughly, the way your eyes would glaze over and your body would become completely pliant for him and him only. for him to be such a typically serious and quiet man, reiner was so mean, so cocky when he fucked; even teasing you for the way you whine when he puts the tip in: “what’s the matter? can’t take the real thing? i know it’s—”

he retreats, and slams back in, taking a ruthless pace. “a lot bigger than those little boys you whore around with.” he finishes with a whisper, folding your knees into your tits as he throws your legs over his shoulders. “m’ n-not a whore..” you whine, voice cracking.

“no? you haven’t seen me in three whole months, you come over for a few hours and the first thing you let me do was stretch out this tight little cunt.” he taunts, a thumb circling your clit. “y-yeah..m-missed you..missed this dick—“ you babble, eyes rolling.

“i know baby, i know, let me in, let daddy make you feel good.”

“j-just like that, fuck fuck fuck” you feel like you’re on the verge of collapse, his cock is pummeling it’s way into your stomach, his sweat is glistening in the glow of his lights and it’s taking everything in you not to beg this man to cum in you here and now. “only whores know how to take dick and still be able to beg for more.” he taunts, his little hair trick from before making an encore appearance as he forces you to watch yourself be debauched, a thick white ring forming at the base of his length like a badge of honor. he was fucking into you so fast and so deep it made you dizzy, but you were too far gone. “love when you fuck me like this’, love when you slut me out” you mumble, teetering on the edge of cumming, you’re so close you can taste it—

“fuck, you’re so fuckin’ nasty, such a good girl for me, always lettin’ me get my way.” reiner moans, a hand wrapped around your throat and a good squeeze has your vision exploding, you melt and your body goes limp, senses still firing off as he coats your insides with sticky white seed.

the aftercare is, to be real, half assed. you’re both exhausted, but reiner still makes sure you’re wiped down with a hot towel, and carries you to bed upon your insistence that you’d, quote, “love to enjoy the sleep part of being fucked to sleep”. you doze off quickly, and reiner follows suit shortly after; the both of you failing to hear reiner’s phone emit a soft ding!

eren 2:23am

you owe me that 20 dollars

your apple watch is still synced to my phone from leg day man…not judging tho. get in there soldier 🫡

#reiner brainrot #kittybutmakeitferal #reiner x reader #aot smut #snk reiner #snk smut #reiner braun #reiner x y/n #reiner x reader smut #reiner braun smut

[ventishipwindows]

Emotional Support Wisps

Tags: Established relationship (Venti x gn!reader), sick reader, wind wisps comforting u bc venti isn't there for like half of it, mild emetophobia warning (just a mention), NOT beta read, or edited at all tbh, im bad at tagging sorry

Author's Notes: uh yea this has been sitting in my drafts for a couple days, it's self-indulgent bullshit bc i had a massive headache the other day but. idk someone can enjoy this maybe??

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Venti had known something was wrong first. He'd seen it in your eyes, that little glimmer of pain behind them you'd refused to acknowledge. He'd offered to stay home to keep any eye on you if you weren't feeling good, concerned you might be coming down with something. 

You had waved it off, told him you were fine. Said it was just a little headache, nothing too big to worry about.

You were regretting that now. That tiny inkling of a headache had evolved into an agonizing migraine. You'd pulled the curtains to your window closed, put a blanket over your eyes to keep the light out, and laid down in bed waiting for it to pass. 

Time seemed to crawl on, that splitting pain in your head seeming to do nothing more than continue, and it only worsened when your stomach started to churn with nausea. It was almost enough to push you to try and use the wind to get Venti's attention, but you knew he was probably still performing right now, and decided not to bother him.

However, even though you didn't call out to him directly, he had a sense something was off. He always could tell when something was wrong with you, his beloved Windblume, and he knew it was worse than you'd let on. Not that he could just leave mid-performance - not without you chewing him out and saying it wasn't that serious - but he could send a few... little friends to try and help in his place. He was sure they'd be convinced quite easily if he offered them a few apples afterwards. 

And so, even with your eyes covered by that blanket, you could feel a few tiny bodies snuggling up to you. You recognized the little inquisitive chirps instantly - wind wisps. They must have snuck in through the open window. You'd seen them with Venti before, but never gotten  quite close enough to touch one before.

Their bodies were soft, almost velvety to the touch, and their little wings fluttered gently as they chirped again. One of them seemed to be right beside your head, using its feathered wings to blow a breeze at you. It seemed to hit the exact spot where the pain was the worst, and the breeze was just cool enough to give you a bit of relief. 

One of them curled up on your chest, and another pressed its little face against your cheek as if to reassure you. You didn't need words for you to understand what the wisps were telling you - that you'd be okay, that this would pass and they'd be here for you.

You reached out very carefully to touch the one pressed against your cheek, gently stroking its little head. It made a cheerful little tinkling noise that reminded you of a wind-chime, softly brushing the feathers of its wings against your palm. 

The wisps were right. Eventually the pain in your head seemed to ease, and that awful twisting nausea in your stomach seemed to dissipate as well. Just enough that you felt like you could fall asleep, and hope that when you woke up, you'd feel better. 

The wisps didn't seem to mind that idea, and as if they read your mind seemed to press closer to you in encouragement. They seemed to be telling you to sleep, that you needed to rest to feel better. They even started to make quiet noises, like tiny little purrs, to soothe you more.

Eventually, with the wisps' soft bodies pressed up against you, you couldn't help but close your eyes fully and let yourself drift off to sleep. The wisps were there, a comforting presence that made you feel safe, and even loved, somehow. You wondered briefly if Venti would be home by the time you woke up from your nap. 

.o.O.o.

You're woken up by a soft kiss on the forehead. Just a gentle brush of lips against your skin, barely enough to wake you from your sleep and get you to open your eyes.

When you do open your own eyes, a familiar pair of green ones is looking down at you. Venti is back, sitting on the bed beside you and looking down at both you and the wisps sleeping beside you with a gentle smile.

"Are you feeling any better, Windblume?" He asks, quietly, as if he's worried being too loud will make the headache return.

You don't want to sit up just yet - the wisps look so peaceful, and it feels wrong to wake them. But you look up at him, and you realize that you do feel much better now. Like the migraine from before was nothing more than a bad dream - and maybe you'd assume it was, if not for the tiny little bodies curled up beside you. 

"Did you send the wisps to check on me?" You ask him, your voice a little quieter than usual, too - probably because you just woke up. 

A hint of a blush colors his cheeks, and he laughs quietly before responding with, "Well, I couldn't leave you all alone when you were in pain, could I?"

You can't help but smile at that, carefully sitting up to try and disturb the wisps as little as possible before planting a kiss on his cheek. "They did a very good job at making me feel better."

His blush darkened at the kiss on his cheek, although he met your smile with one of his own. "I was hoping they could, at least until I got home." And with that, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug - and dislodging the wisps, who chirped in protest before snuggling back up to you two and promptly resuming their naps.

You couldn't help but relax into the hug, too, resting your head on Venti's chest as he began to gently stroke your hair, twirling a few strands around his slender fingers.

"You can rest a little longer, Windblume. I'll be here to watch over you." 

#genshin impact #genshin venti #venti x reader #wind wisps #writing #my writing :>

[ox1-lovesick]

🏹 he loves me not - p.sh

pairing. bf!sunghoon x gn!reader genre. angst, hurt, lovers to exes, exes to strangers warnings. unrequited love (?) half assed writing, mentions of food wc. 669

type. drabble

a/n. I know I said I don't write for enha anymore (which I don't) but I started moving my drafts to google docs and found this from over a year ago 😭 it was almost done so I edited it a bit. I do have more drafts for enha, if I finish them I'll probably post them too

Somehow, being in a relationship feels exactly the same as being single does. There's no one next to you when you wake up in the morning, no one to keep you company while you eat breakfast, no one to check in on you during the day and ask if you've been drinking enough water, no one to wish you goodnight and cuddle with until the sun rises again the next day, and then do it all over again.

At least not after your honeymoon phase; he was all over you when you'd first started dating. Sunghoon let you know that he loved you every single day. Whether he sent flowers to your home with handwritten messages or simply asked how your day was, you never felt out of place in his arms; in fact, it was the only place you felt fully at home in. Sunghoon was your definition of love; you didn't know what it was before he came into your life.

But these days, you're forgetful. You forgot what it feels like to be held by him; the embrace that greeted you every night when he came home slowly lost its warmth until it felt like his blood ran cold, and then he didn't bother to acknowledge you at all.

You forgot what his voice sounds like. You've never known 4 hours to come and go quicker than when you were on a call with him. The space between hello and goodbye was a blur of nothing but smiles and laughter. He'd beg you, "Just five more minutes" until the birds are chirping as the sunlight seeps through your curtains, and even then he wasn't tired of talking to you. The last time he called you was three months ago.

You've even forgotten what he looks like. The mole on the bridge of his nose—or maybe it was the corner of his lip—that you adored more than any feature on his face Endless coos, and that left him pink, bashful, and giggly. There was nothing that put Sunghoon in a better mood than when you'd fuss over his beauty spots and litter them with kisses. Every time you mention how pretty you find them, the thought of getting them removed is all that crosses his mind

He's been slowly moving out of your apartment, bit by bit. Asking for a hoodie of his you stole back, books, and stationery, he left so he could work on the weekends he spent with you and make their way to his dorm with him, the scent of his cologne on your bedsheets dissipating until the bitter stench of laundry detergent is all that's left. He never brings anything for you any more, but he'll always leave with something, and that will be the last you see of it—see of him—until he's back to take something else from you.

He'll sit there and watch his phone ring. Your name, decorated with a red heart he felt too guilty to remove, lights up his screen for the third time that day, and he'll wait for it to go to voicemail, then he'll wait some more to tell you he was busy and will call you when he can—even though you both know he won't.

The guys know now to stop asking about you; never mention how long it's been since they've seen you; never ask when you're going to visit again; and never ask how you are. They won't get an answer because Sunghoon doesn't know.

It hurts more than you'd ever imagined—probably because you'd never imagined it at all. The thought of your love turning rotten never crossed your mind, ever. A part of you is still in denial, believing his excuses and telling yourself that he does still love you, even when he hasn't said it in months.

But no matter how many flowers you pluck to the stigma or dandelions you make a wish on, your head knows the answer, and so does your heart.

He loves you not.

🗯️ taglist. @k-labels @kpopcontentcreatorsclub @kflixnet @fairy-yeo @tsxkkis @kynrki @hoonfever @haknom @soov

★ OX1-LOVESICK all rights reserved. do not copy, distribute, translate, alter or repost my work without my explicit permission.

#enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen drabbles #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon enhypen #park sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon fanfic #enhypen smau #sunghoon smau #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x gn reader #enhypen comfort #sunghoon drabbles #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon scenarios #park sunghoon drabble

[creative-caramel-coffee]

I miss your writing😂 I need me some weems, now idk if you’ll consider writing age regression ? Bc I have another idea if you do.

So r is depressed bc they ran out of medication and forgot to refill it since they’ve become ill (me rn it’s horrid and messing with my head) no one’s seen or heard from r and weems has to do a welfare check. Here she finds a depressed and very sick reader. She knows of readers bad back ground (they are a shifter and was found hanging onto life after being abused in a facility like hydra for shifters) so when r becomes all clingy and very child like it confessed weems. R is so touch starved it’s insane, but with weems rn she’s like a child wanting and craving the affection just needing to be held. So naturally weems does that and that’s how she discovers the fever r has and that r ran out of her meds so weems nurses her better. Oh! Could also add r isn’t sleeping bc of nightmares due to their background?

Sorry for the long request and I’m not even sure it makes sense. I need my Damn pills lmao.

🕯️

A little sick

Pairings: Weems x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: you're sick and regressed.

TW: agre? Sickness, depression, medicine (prescription),

A/n I’ve never written this kind of thing before so tell me if any of its wrong. Cute request tho :) let me know if you like it or want to see more of this kind of thing.

Part 2

Waking up and feeling like your bones were made of lead was not the way you wanted to start the day. It took all of your strength to pull yourself upright. Standing on shaky legs you wobble over to your dresser pulling out the pouch of pills that helped you with the aftermath of the facility and the depression it left. You knew firsthand how bad it could be to be a shapeshifter. Hunted and experimented on. You drew a deep breath pushing the thoughts away and exhaling slowly and shakily.

Unzipping the pouch, you frowned. All the blister packets were empty. You were out. You slouched dejectedly. It was going to be a long day. Yoko had already left for classes and to be honest you didn’t really think you could make it to the wardrobe to get changed let alone all the way to class. You sighed dejectedly and hobbled back to bed and laid down on your back staring at the roof. The feelings were getting harder to push away.

Your chest felt hollow, and you choked back a sob. The last time you were sick … was back there and to be honest you had no idea what would happen if someone found out here.

You zoned out feeling a familiar fuzzy feeling swallow your mind. You tried to push it away which only seemed to make you headache unbearable. The pain was what made you slip. Dropping hard, you felt your body shift. Soon the bed felt much bigger as you curled into a ball and cried. You were tired but scared to sleep, the nightmares seemed to be ever persistent.

You had no idea how long you had been crying, small sobs wracking the tiny body on the bed. Soon a knock sounded on the door.

Weems had had reports all day that you had been absent. Knowing your history with depression she knew it was imperative to do a welfare check as soon as she could. Looking at her calendar she swore. She had a copy if the nurses schedule for meds and prescription refills. Yours were out and it looked like nobody had picked up more for you.

She finally signed off the email she had spent the morning drafting to the mayor. Closing her laptop she toed on her heels, opting to take them off to give her feet a break when sitting and stood smoothing out her skirt. She hurried out the door and to your dorm. Hearing small noises inside she hesitated before knocking, she knew you were in there was was slightly terrified of what she would find inside the dorm.

Hearing the soft knock on the door you wiped a small fist over your eyes and sat up still silent tears running down your cheeks. You waited and heard the door open.

Weems peered into the dimly lit room; the windows still drawn. She saw a small lump on the bed and slowly walked over. The closer she got the more shocked she became. Why was there a toddler in the dorm and why did she look exactly like … y/n?

Small sad eyes looked up at her and sniffled. Weems stood awkwardly not really knowing what to do. She had a suspicion. She knew you were a shifter like herself. She looked down at you and it clicked. It made sense with the amount of trauma you had. You had regressed both physically and mentally to a child. Looking down at the sad child, you looked up at her and extended your arms.

“Up?” You asked with childlike innocence. Weems felt her heart melt. Gently she placed her hands under your arms and lifted you onto her hip. Almost straight away you buried your face in her neck, and she let out a soft gasp.

You were face too warm. Gently she peeled your face from her neck so she could look you in the eyes while she bounced you on her hip. You let out a soft whine at the loss of contact and weems shushed you as she placed a gentle hand against your cheek then forehead.

“Oh honey. Are you not feeling too good right now?” She asked. “Do you feel icky?” She said and you nodded and sniffled, the tears slowing.

“Alright. Well, we are going to get you some medicine then we are going to come back to my place for some sleep.” She said and you whined.

“No sleep.” You pouted and Weems frowned. “Cuddles?” You asked.

“Ok sweet girl you can have cuddles but why no sleep?” She asked.

“Mean dreams.” You pouted and she felt her heart break. Of course, you had bad dreams, that was almost assured with what you had been through. Why didn’t she think of that. Patting you back she used a hand to guide you back to her neck as you put your thumb in your mouth.

Weems winced knowing it probably wasn’t clean but there wasn’t much she could do about it right now and she preferred it to the crying. Holding you on her hip with one arm and the other on the back of your head she saw a small white fluffy thing under your blanket walking over and pulling out the stuffie you brightened as she tucked it between you and her chest as you wrapped you free arm around it.

“Alright honey let’s go get some medicine for you.” She said and left. She knew the school week enough to make sure nobody would see the two of you, God the rumours would be endless if students saw weems with a child. Careful to avoid any class windows Weems made it to the infirmary. As a shapeshifter herself she knew that the doses of medicine would need to match the physical size of the body. Balancing you on her hip she looked into your eyes.

“How old are you sweetheart?” She asked and you looked at her shyly holding up four fingers and puffing your chest out.

“Im four.” You grinned.

“Wow. Big girl huh?” She asked and you smiled wider.

Weems pulled out the bottle of medicine labeled 3-6 and any other supplies she would need. Carefully making her way back to her office she slipped back into her own quarters to take care of you.

You whined as she set you down on the couch but stopped as she lifted you back into her lap. You sure were clingy like this. Measuring out a dose of medicine Weems coaxed you into drinking it which made you stick your tongue out in disgust after.

“Yucky.” You said. Weems chuckled.

“Im sure it was sweet girl.” She said and stroked your hair. You buried your face in her chest and fisted your hands in her shirt.

“Alright bedtime. I think someone needs a nap huh?” She said and you whined.

“Nooo.” You said.

“Alright how about some cuddles instead?” Weems asked and you smiled.

“Cuddles?”

“Yes. Cuddles.”

“Yay cuddles.” You celebrated.

“Alright sweet thing lets go to my bedroom and we can cuddle.” She said knowing you would fall asleep in no time. Curling into her chest more and wrapping you small arms around Weems she felt her heart melt again as she ran her nails up and down your spine. You shivered and enjoyed the touch.

After a few minutes you seemed to be fighting sleep, eyes drooping before flying wide open again with a small whimper.

“Honey whats the matter? Why won’t you sleep love?” Weems asked softly.

“Bad dreams.” You whimpered softly and weems patted your back running her hands through your short hair. It was much shorter than normal probably from the shift.

“Honey, you need to sleep, I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave your side, ok? Do you think you could be a brave girl and get some sleep for me?” She asked softly.

Burrowing your face into her neck you nodded and shuffled around to get comfy. Weems knew either way based off how exhausted you seemed you would be asleep soon regards of what you wanted.

And as predicted after about five more minutes weems felt your breath even out against her chest and heard small snores coming from you. She smiled softly down at you and decided then and there she would never let anything hurt you again.

MASTERLIST

#sfw agere #age regression #weems #larissa weems #comfort #depression #nevermore #outcast R #shapeshifter R #hurt/comfort #sicfic #whump #fluff #slight angst #wednesday addams #self insert #nightmares #little r #caregiver weems #touch starved #medicine #illness #flu #cold #sick r #toddler r #sickness #y/n #principal weems #enid Sinclair

[margarine-archives]

Could I possibly request a Capsaicin Cookie x female reader dating headcanons for when ur requests are open again? (First time requesting, hope I didn’t say anything bad/wrong 😭😭) ty!!

General Dating HCs with: Capsaicin Cookie !

note: hello ! I feel as if this request was such perfect timing (my little capsaicin draft has been sitting for awhile !) with that, I'm afraid this doesn't mention a feminine reader due to the fact this was made weeks prior, so I apologize for that ! I hope you may still enjoy this !

I apologize for my abrupt hiatus aswell, I have been hyperfixated on other things (the owl house !) but now I have returned ! I am planning on a fluff alphabet for a certain cookie ! ~

- upon realization before your relationship, capsaicin is hesitant, both in admitting his admiration for you and the possibility of commiting to a relationship. He's afraid of you fearing him overtime, or even after knowing about his affections for you

- harming you is the last thing he wants to happen, even if his entire reason for liking you is because you embraced him, embraced every bit of flaw he had despite the dangers he may cause, erupt, despite having the power to turn you to burnt crumbs, it was like you didn't care about such risks.. He's concerned, yet at the same time, his sweet, crumbled heart felt like melting lava !

- you made him feel free from the confinements of invisible shackles, to feel lighter despite the huge mountain of insecurities that weighed him down, you made him feel like .. well, him !

- he wanted to grow closer to you, to embrace you aswell ! but alongside, he wanted to distance himself as far away from you as possible. He sees you as a cookie too fragile, who might crumble the moment he touches you !

- this may take months- even years ! unless you are aware of his lingering emotions, then please do talk him out of this phase ! You don't know how much he yearns for your touch, but simply cannot because of his dying heat ( you may or may not have asked prune juice cookie for a fire resistance potion ! )

- upon the course of dating, capsaicin is a very clingy man, both in public and in private. Nearly his entire life without any form of physical cookie contact took a huge toll on him ! He is, without his knowledge, a very touch starved man. Though if you address your concerns about PDA then he will stop immediately ( a bit sulky about it but he gets over it overtime ! )

- public affection aside, he can get quite possessive aswell, not from ill intentions or anything ! Capsaicin has an extremely low self esteem, any cookie he sees interacting with you ( especially if its a suitor of yours ) automatically makes him think that the cookie is more deserving of you than he ever will

- if you do dislike PDA, then he is more eager to staying indoors rather than being outside ( that's quite the surprise ! ). It's like his firing heart might die out if he goes on a day without holding your hand ! Must you talk so long with a friend of yours ? he already misses your sweet touch !

- your suitors could treat you way better than he can, they would let you live a love life without any form of danger - you're safer with any other cookie other than capsaicin ! yet you decided to choose him.

- he constantly ponders if he even has the qualities of being a good partner, often questioning the things he does for you. He wonders if his efforts lack more .. effort, that maybe your suitors can truly be a better partner than him, a dangerous cookie since his youngest days. He doesn't want you to have to risk being in danger because of him !

- capsaicin refuses to listen to any other reassurances if its not from you, but he also dislikes speaking up about it, he doesn't want any cookie to feel the pressure of having to reassure him, even if cookies like kouign-amann wouldn't mind such things

- the good thing is that it's noticeable whenever he does feel upset about something, and whether it's about insecurities or his own trauma, please do comfort him ! give him physical affection and lots of praise ! he'll think that he doesn't deserve such words but it does feel nice to hear someone say that to him, especially you !

- capsaicin cookie dislikes being restrained, it doesn't matter what place ! so your dates are very frequent, if not everyday. He simply likes roaming around earthbread, hands swaying back and forth as he rambles endlessly about his friends' antics !

- alongside this, I have a strong feeling that he over prepares before he goes out on your date. He has to make sure he is prepared for anything and everything ! But for some reason he somehow forgets an item or two, one time you both went on a picnic date and he forgot the flowers !

- loves holding hands with you ! Whether it be for comfort, to ground his inner self, or to show small affections for you, playing with your fingers or massaging your palms

- likes showing off his strength to you ! In public and in private. He feels that it is a must - do requirement to prove himself to you ! To show off that you are dating a strong cookie, a cookie that has a burning passion for you !

- below the surface of hot lava, he can be very soft spoken with you, he feels so much trust and comfort in you to the point that it doesn't feel like a constant requirement to appear strong and mighty, because any other cookie, strong or weak, can have their opposite moments too !

- despite the mindset he has of needing to prove himself useful to you, capsaicin cookie is now aware that this isn't how healthy relationships work, and that you simply wont leave him for even the slightest bit of weakness shown. He is learning to love himself just as much as he loves you !

#crk x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #capsaicin cookie #capsaicin cookie x reader #capsaicin x reader

[kurusick]

♡ a few examinations

akira kurusu x takemis assistant!reader

tags - fem reader, doctor talk ?, (takemis here for like one second), use of akira over ren

an: this fic idea surprisingly hadn’t been written to my knowledge !! It’s an old draft but I decided to clean it up! if you guys like this I’ll def write a part two !! ❤️

★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆

Akira felt the familiar buzz of his phone, half expecting it to be one of his phantom thief accomplices. He stifled a groan seeing instead, it was Takemi.

“is there anyway you could come by today ? I’d like to do a few tests.”

Akira sighed, responding back with a “sure, be there soon”. He didn’t mind being tae takemis “guinea pig”, it was just the aftermath of her work that truly bothered him.

He waited for the day to go by, hours turned to minutes as he was almost dreading leaving his spot, a bit fearful of what was to come. finally, it was time to go. He said a quick goodbye and half rushed to takemis clinic. The quicker he got the test done the better.

He had finally made it, slowing his pace as he walked through the doors; Takemi immediately taking notice of him. “Afternoon my Guinea Pig; please come to the back. I have a special treat for you today.” Was it a blood test? Maybe she would have him run up and down the streets of Yongen-Jaya to see the effects of her medicine. He was lost in thought as he lazily opened the door, being met with unfamiliar eyes.

“Akira, this is [Last name] [First name] she’s going to be my assistant for a while. Today she’s going to be the one administering the medication to you. I’ll be in the front waiting. If you need any help, please feel free to come get me.” Takemi says, waving a lazy goodbye as she walked to the front desk, closing the door behind her. Akira blinked, slowly turning his head to you. it all happened so fast he couldn’t get a word in. When had takemi gotten an assistant ?

“Hello there! As you heard I’m [Last name] [First name] and I’m going to be assisting Takemi in the clinic for a while. Feel free to make yourself comfy. Its nice to finally meet you ” you say, taking a seat in takemis normal spot.

Akira stiffens. A teenager working in takemis clinic? he wondered if she had let you intern with her or knew you personally. It was a bit odd for takemi to let just anyone in here. Never the less, he relaxed, nodding in your direction. “Nice to meet you as well. I’m Kurusu Akira .” He wondered if the rumors in Shujin about him had met your ears by now.. unless you dropped out ? Is that why you were working here ?? Akira had so many questions, but obviously wasn’t going to ask.

“Well ? Are you going to sit down ?” You asked, extending an arm to the bed beside him.

He sat down, placing his bag down on the floor. You turned around in the rolly chair, clipboard in hand flipping back and fourth between a few pages. You sighed, looking up from your papers to examine him. Your eyes lingered on him for a moment, looking away as soon as he looked up from his bag. You looked back to ur clipboard brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“Alright, Mr kurusu. I’m going to be doing a few examinations”

★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆ ★☆☆☆☆

#akira kurusu #akira kurusu x reader #persona 5 #persona series #x reader #ren amamiya #ren amamiya x reader #persona x reader #joker persona 5 #joker p5

[intothegenshinworld]

 💛*₊“𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬”

a/n: this is my first post of the ebg! these can be read as x reader but will have some selfship lore bits hidden in them! || !! tw for the spiders in his cave ig TuT

You have to thank the Acting Grand Master for giving you the opportunity to meet Albedo.

Sure, at first you had cursed her for giving you the task of sending a letter to 'a camp' on Dragonspine (what a vague location), but if you had denied her request you would've probably never met the alchemist.

'A camp' had been an accurate description to describe Albedo's home. 

'Home' would've been a compliment too grand for the dump he lived in. 

Your eyes unwillingly observe the area he occupies. A sleeping bag is spread out on the ground, next to it a makeshift fire, and the remaining space of the cave is filled with lab equipment and books. 

You wonder if all alchemists lived like this. 

"I apologise," Albedo's voice echoes through the cave, "I hadn't expected any visitors."

You force your eyes away from a spider that scurries away from the sudden noise. With a bit of luck, your eyes land on his turquoise ones. 

He is pretty.

"It's alright. If anything, I feel like I should be the one to apologise for bothering you." An awkward chuckle escapes your lips.

You remember the alarmed expression he had moments ago. Albedo had been so immersed in his experiment that he hadn't heard you approach. By the time you greeted him, he nearly made the concoction in his hands explode by mistake.

"Don't worry about it." Albedo puts some wood onto the already burning fireplace, giving it a longer lifespan. "Please, warm up. I'll make something to drink in the meantime."

And while you weren't too happy to sit in the company of god-knows how many spiders, the warmth from the fire wasn't something you were going to refuse. Not after spending nearly a full day climbing Dragonspine on your own.

And with the help of both the fire and the hot chocolate he had given you, your body temperature returned to normal. 

"So," Albedo sits down next to you. "I assume you're here for the Knights of Favonious."

You nod. No sane person would visit Dragonspine without good reason. Of course you'd be here for buisness. 

When you remember the letter Jean had given you, you reach in your bag to retrieve it. 

"The Acting Grand Master had requested me to hand this to you. It seemed important, though, I don't know much aside of that."

His hand takes the letter from yours. 

You observe how his eyes move over the words and his expressions change. Albedo seems to think for a moment, and then he stands up. 

"I'll draft a reply. It's getting dark already, so I believe it'd be better for you to stay tonight."

Your expression sours.

Albedo continues after he carefully observes you. "Don't worry, I have a spare sleeping bag."

"One filled with spiders?"

The snarky comment escapes your lips before you realise you had said it out loud, and your hands fly up your lips in surprise.

And as if it couldn't get worse, 

Albedo laughs.

The sound is warm and gentle, and your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"You're afraid of spiders?"

"Well. You're obviously not, it seems."

His smile remains on his face. "If it comfort you, I'll give the sleeping bag a thorough check and remove any spiders in the area before you'll fall asleep."

"I suppose spiders are the lesser evil compared to the hillicurls on the mountain." You mutter, remembering how the monster would get more active in the dark.

In the end, you agree with him. 

While Albedo, the chief alchemist, writes a reply to the letter he received, you lay in the warmth of the spider-free sleeping bag while the fire keeps you warm.

© intothegenshinworld. This content above is made for the genshinblr ebg of October 2023, hosted by @i23kazu! Because of this, content like these will contain selfship lore. After the ebg, the blog will return to its usual content!

#albedo x reader #albedo #genshin impact x reader #astronetwrk #Shiro!EBG 10.23 #I hate spiders #no beta we die like durin

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

65+87 please?

this has been sitting in my drafts for almost a month lol, i hated it when i wrote it but i just stumbled upon it again and realized it was sad to leave it sitting unread even if its not my favorite - so i hope someone enjoys my slightly angsty take on the prompt

65 First Kiss/Date + 87 Unresolved Sexual Tension

If it were anyone else calling Mickey ‘patient’, he’d laugh in their face.

But Ian had brought out much more outlandish qualities in him over the last few months, so it's no surprise that when it comes to him Mickey could find nearly endless patience. 

Three months ago, standing in front of Ian with his lungs screaming from the cold air he listened to Ian tell him that yes, this was him breaking up with Mickey. 

Mickey looked at Ian for a second. Looked at his pale, shivering form and couldn't find any anger for him. He was fucking heartbroken, and had to turn and look down the street just to take his eyes away.

“Take your meds, Ian” he simply. “Break up with me, sure. I can’t make you love me, I don’t want to. But you have what it takes to get control of this thing, with the meds or therapy or whatever and you’re really, really going to regret it if you don’t just because you were too busy being a mopey asshole to try.”

 “Fuck you, Mickey. I’m doing this because I love you, I’m letting you go, you don’t fucking owe me anything.”

Mickey shook his head, indignation finally welling up in his chest. He pushed the gate open harshly and stomped up to stand toe to toe with Ian “you’re doing this for you, because you want it to hurt. You think you deserve it, and you think I deserve it too.”

Ian looked so tired, like he wanted to cry. So Mickey just huffed a sigh, bringing a hand up to his cheek, patting it once before turning to walk away. 

“I can’t do it with you watching” Ian said suddenly. “I can't make any promises but if I’m going to try to make it work with the meds and get myself back on track, I need to do it alone.”

Mickey looked back with a huff, he knows that Ian wasn’t trying to be mean, but he couldn’t help but feel like Ian was blaming him. And maybe Mickey was the problem, Fiona and Lip and even little fucking Debbie had told him enough times that Ian needed to be in the hospital. 

“But if I can get to a better place, can I come find you?” Ian asked hopefully.

It was like their moods had swapped in a matter of seconds, Mickey just drew his mouth into a tight line, shaking his head slightly. “Let’s not make any promises to each other,” was what he decided on before walking away, back the way he came to crawl back into the den of misplace objects that had taken over his home and get drunk.

The next morning Mickey called over some guys he knew from the moving business that went bust to buy all the suitcase shit and haul it away. He took all the baby stuff Svetlana left behind and shoved it in the attic, working away at a bottle of whiskey as he went. 

It was like doing an autopsy to see how fucked up his life had become over the last couple of years. Unearth a condom here, a little baby sock here, Mandy’s blonde hair dye-

Mandy, Mickey realized with a pang of horror. Mandy left and he’d hardly even noticed. He spent the rest of the afternoon calling (almost) everyone Mandy knew and narrowed down where she moved to. He woke up the next day before the sun was completely over the horizon and started driving South East. 

Kenyatta might not have seen it in the moment, but he got very lucky that all it took was a bullet in the leg to get Mandy into Mickey’s car. 

She got a job at a high end restaurant, as hostess and then quickly moving up to waitress. Mickey started small time dealing again, making just enough cash to cover his meager expenses. They didn’t really hang out for a while, both siblings holed up in their rooms, licking their wounds. 

Mandy left him alone until he came home with a busted up face after he missed off the wrong supplier with his big fucking mouth. She hounded him after that, about getting his GED with her, going to community college.

“What are you going to do when dad gets out?” she asked, following him to the kitchen.

“Hope that this stint of fucking guys for a few months liberalized his views on same sex relationships” Mickey snarked back.

“Mickey, come on.”

“Or claim there was a gas leak that made me crazy for dick” he continued sarcastically reaching into the fridge.  

“Look Mickey, you’re twenty years old, you have no record as an adult and you should be making an effort to keep it that way unless you want to end up in and out of prison like dad” Mandy said testily, snatching a beer out of his hand.

“What the fuck do you want me to do Mandy?”

“Jesus!” she exploded. “The only thing I’ve ever seen you give a shit about was your stupid fucking boyfriend. You’re worse than me!”

Mickey just stared her down with a brusque fuck you and started walking away. 

“He’s getting out in less than a year Mickey,” she warned. “I’m saving up to rent my own place until then, and I suggest you do the same.”

She was right, he knew that and he just wanted to be a pigheaded asshole for a little while longer so he started scrolling through craigslist ads for security until something caught his eye. 

He lied through the interview, surprisingly at ease as long as he was able to be pulling a con in some way, even if he was just lying about who he was. He was armed with the knowledge that he’d bribed Linda Karib into saying that he was a valued member of the security staff at her large, upscale market and that Mandy would pick up the phone and follow any lie he’d told them.

“You got a job where?” Mandy asked incredulously, picking up the two suits he’d been given as a uniform from where he’d tossed them on the couch after he was hired.

“The Art Institute” He said around a mouthful of cereal. “You know, the big building on Michigan Ave with the Lions out front.”

“Why the hell did you want to work there?” Mandy asked incredulously. 

“It pays more than any other security gig I could get without a GED,” Mickey said. “And it’s like really cool, I’ll be guarding fucking Van Gogh and Michelangelo.”

“Yeah, guarding them from fifth grade class trips,” Mandy teased. “There’s a Michelangelo in Chicago?”

Mickey scowled and sucked his teeth, “you know what I mean.”

Against all odds, Mickey loved his job. He was vigilant enough to keep kids and entitled adults from touching anything they weren’t supposed to, but mostly spent his time rotating with the shift changes, getting exposed to something new and beautiful. Ancient Korean pottery, massive modern canvases, baroque paintings applied to wooden triptychs, and he had a front row seat to all of it.

He had nothing but time to think, he’d start his shift hating the painting across from him, and after a few hours he’d come to understand it, if not like it. 

It kept his mind off of Ian, which was important. He’d be reminded of his ex-boyfriend in a particularly golden shade of red, or the odd bright splash of green, but after a while he’d learned to let those thoughts come and then quietly escort them out without any anger or resentment. 

In short, four months after Ian broke up with him, Mickey was relatively happy and fulfilled. He had a good relationship with his family (the only member that mattered anyways), a job he liked (well, didn’t totally despise), and modern technology took care of everything else (grindr).

He was getting ready to meet up with a guy from the app when a wrench got thrown into the whole machine. He had showered and gelled his hair, putting on a clean shirt that showed off his arms, he was grabbing his wallet from the kitchen table when he noticed the shock of red hair contrasting with the grey of his living room. 

Ian turned around once he’d realized Mickey had come out of his room. Mandy must have let him in, seating him on the couch and leaving him like a sadistic little gift for Mickey to find, the fucking bitch. 

Mickey froze, hand outstretched as Ian turned to face him, scrambling up off the couch. 

“Hi Mickey,” Ian said breathily, attempting a grin. He looked good, healthy and normal. He looked like the Ian that left Mickey in his room to run off to the army, just a little older. 

“Uh” Mickey said, unhelpfully. “What are you doing here?”

Ian surveyed him up and down hesitantly. “Your sister let me in,” he said lamely.

Mickey raised his brows to say not the question I asked, fuckhead.

“Do you want to go get something to eat?” Ian asked nervously. 

“I’m not really hungry” Mickey said stupidly, not understanding why Ian was standing in his living room.

Ian deflated slightly “we could get a drink, or just go for a walk or something.”

“What are you getting at, Gallagher?” Mickey asked tiredly.

“I’m trying to ask you on a date” Ian said with a halfhearted smile. “I’ve been on my meds consistently for three months now so I thought-”

“Congrats, Ian that’s really great” Mickey said, bittersweet. “But if you got your shit together because I was gone, I should probably stay away.”

“No!” Ian blurted out. “No, I got better so I could see you again. I wasn’t going to put you through anymore than I already had.”

Mickey didn’t say anything to that, so Ian continued. “I know that I hurt you when I said that I needed to do this alone. But I’ve been working for the past few months to try and become someone I was proud of, so I wouldn’t feel so fucking sick every time you looked at me.”

Taking a deep breath, Mickey tried to calm down. He wanted to yell, he wanted to hug Ian, he wanted to leave and never see him again. But most of all he saw that he was being given the chance to start over, and he wanted to take it. 

“Fuck it, yeah, let's go to dinner” he agreed. 

“I thought you said you weren’t hungry,” Ian asked curiously, grinning wildly. 

“I can always eat,” Mickey said, finally sliding his wallet into his back pocket. “Can we get pancakes?”

“Yeah, hell yeah. Let’s go get some flapjacks” Ian agreed excitedly. “Wait-were you going somewhere?”

“Nah” Mickey dismissed. “Faceless Jonny can murder some other twink tonight.”

Ian laughed. It didn’t have that hyper, nasty quality Mickey had grown to flinch away from. 

It seemed like they agreed to set any uneasiness aside for the night so they could sit together and share a stack of pancakes. 

He told Ian all about the rescue mission to Indiana, the way Kenyatta charged at him in the living room before he could get his gun out and had to hold his own against the absolute mountain of a man before he managed to get his gun out. He told him about the spring he’d mostly shared with his sister, about the museum.  

“You do what?” Ian said, letting out a stalling laugh, nearly choking around a mouthful of bacon. 

“Stop laughing, it’s fun and I make good money” Mickey grumbled. “We can’t all be training to save lives.”

“Do you wear the little suit?” Ian asked, ignoring him. 

“Do you?” Mickey shot back. 

“Not yet but I will,” Ian said proudly. 

Ian didn’t share very much about what he’d been doing. Mickey managed to figure out that he was working working at Patsy’s for a while, before he started EMT training, he talked a lot about his family, Debbie getting pregnant and Carl going to juvie, but he had this was of talking around himself that made Mickey realize he probably spent a lot of the last few months pretty miserable. 

“So, I mean-this is our first date, right?” Ian asked with a grin, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Yeah, I guess so” Mickey said hesitantly.

“So, tell me stuff I don’t know” Ian said like it was obvious. “You know, siblings, childhood, likes and dislikes.”

Mickey snickered sarcastically leaning back with his arms crossed “number of siblings unknown, childhood was horrific. Likes; guns, redheads, tattoos, dutch renaissance painting, italian futurist sculpture, Bon Jovi, high fructose corn syrup. Dislikes; boston accents, bostson sports teams, men who can’t fight, vegetables that aren’t fried, and any pop song on the top 100.”

Ian grinned wildly, giddy and joyful “That is a very comprehensive run down, A+.”

Mickey chuckled a little, leaning forward and letting out a quick thanks. He turned to Ian and motioned for him to start talking.

“Five siblings. Mixed childhood, mostly good. Likes summer, professional hockey, pop music, thin highlighters, bad boys-hey, don’t kick me!-call of duty, and these days green tea. Dislikes Romantic comedies, football, mood stabilizers, menthol cigarettes, and hoodies without zippers.”

Mickey grinned at his stupid list, and his stupid smiling face. He felt himself getting sucked back into Ian’s magnetic orbit. 

“Would you let me take you out again?” Ian asked eagerly. “This was a pretty good first date.”

Reality came crashing down on Mickey again, and he remembered that this wasn’t really their first date, that nothing was normal between them “are you sure you’re ready for-whatever if is you’re trying to get out of this?”

Ian’s face fell, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I’ve spent the last few months trying to get to this point so I could come back to you.”

Mickey leaned forward to make eye contact with him, trying to decide wether or not to trust him. His eyes were wide and anxious but steady. Taking a deep breath and praying that it wasn’t a mistake. 

“Yeah, okay. I believe you,” Mickey agreed. “But I’m not doing this again, if we break up again it’s fucking over, I’m not going to spend the rest of my life running around in circles with you.”

Ian nodded enthusiastically “yeah, no, that makes sense. I don't want to do that either.”

He paid the check and they left together, when they got back to Mickey’s house he nodded up at it with a grin, “come in, Mandy won’t be back until later.”

Hesitating slightly, Ian took a deep breath and paused. “So, I’m totally ready to start dating you, totally ready. And I’ll come up to watch a movie or play video games or just hang out, but I don’t to have sex tonight, or for a little while.”

Looking down at his crotch automatically, Mickey pulled a questioning face. 

“It works,” Ian supplied with a blush. “It’s back up and running and everything. I just-once I could finally think clearly, I started getting this really uncomfortable feeling like my body isn’t mine, because I didn’t make choices I’m proud of, all the time. I’m still kind of struggling with that so if we can just go out and not fuck for a while that would be great for me, but-”

“Ian chill out. That’s fine, we can hang out.” Mickey said urgently. “You’ll want to eventually though, right? ‘Cause if this is a never again thing we'll need to figure-”

“No! No, definitely not never again, just like give me a couple weeks” Ian amended.

“Yeah, that’s fine. However long you need” Mickey agreed, walking up the stairs, “come on, I’m gonna’ kick your ass at the new grand theft auto just as bad as all the others.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ian groaned and flopped down on Mandy’s purple comforter.

“What’s got you all moody?” Mandy asked, uncapping a bottle of nail polish. 

“Your fucking brother won’t get naked for me” Ian whined.

“Ew! Jesus Ian” Mandy shrieked. “Just apologize for whatever he’s pissed about.”

“He’s not pissed,” Ian insisted. “Why would he be pissed?”

“I don’t know, why else would he be holding out on you?”

“On first date after we broke up, I mean-I guess that was our first date period, I told him I wanted to take it slow, at least with sex. After everything I’d done before getting diagnosed I just-didn’t want to jump into a physical relationship right away” Ian explained. 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Mandy agreed. 

“Yeah but that was almost three months ago and I have been very ready for a while and making it very fucking clear, but every time he shuts me down.”

“Shuts you down how?” She asked noncommittally, carefully painting her big toe. 

“The other night we were making out on the couch so I was trying to take his shirt off and he just pulled it down and looked at me like I was trying to fucking deflower him.”

Mandy let out a laugh, moving on to her other foot “have you tried telling him point blank that you wanna’ bang?”

“Kind of, not in so many words but I’ve tried to imply, in a seductive way, that I am really, really beyond ready and that by balls are starting to hurt.”

“You’re just being dramatic,” Mandy dismissed. “Just tell him what you’re telling me, which is what you should have done a week ago.”

“Yeah, I should have just told him. But now it’s like, weird. Like it’s weird that he’s purposely ignoring the like, big neon sign stuck to my forehead that basically screams I’m horny.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” she said disinterestedly.

“He was three months ago,” Ian said, eye brows drawn. “So you think I’ve like, turned him off?”

“I have no idea, Ian!” She exclaimed. “I’ve already talked about my brother’s sex life way more than I wanted to this afternoon, it’s weird that you guys sleep in the same bed every other night but don’t have sex. And if you’re not the one with the problem, maybe he is.”

Ian laid back, deep in thought until Mandy kicked him out so she could get ready to work. Mickey got back an hour later, dressed in his dark suit. It didn’t fit him perfectly, but it made the darkness of his hair and eyelashes stand out even more. 

He said hi to Ian quickly before disappearing into his bedroom, unaware of Ian perking up and following him. “Mickey?” He asked curiously through the door. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hold on,” came a muffled reply.

“Can I just come in?” Ian asked impatiently. 

He waited a beat, then Mickey came out fully dressed in jeans and a teeshirt “jesus, where’s  the fire?”

“Why won’t you have sex with me?” Ian blurted out. “I mean, we both want to, unless I’m reading the signs wrong but the sexual tension feels pretty fuckin’ intense.”

Mickey licked his lips and looked away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Ian asked incredulously. “So you’re going to pretend that I haven't been basically practically jumping you every night for the last few weeks?”

“Whatever, you’re the one who didn’t want to have sex” Mickey shot back defensively. “You haven't said anything else since and I know I can be-y'know a little pushy, so I backed the fuck off.”

Ian moved forward quickly, moving to bring both hands up to Mickey’s cheeks and pulling him close before allowing his hands to travel downward slowly until he could tuck his hands comfortably into the back pockets of his jeans. “I get that it’s been weird not having sex, and I really appreciate you being so considerate, but if it’s alright with you I’d like to to back into your bedroom and suck your dick to say thank you for your extraordinary patience.”

From this close, Ian got to actually feel the affect this words had on his boyfriend and watch as his cheeks flushed and pupils dilated sightly. “Yeah,” Mickey nodded, nonchalant like his voice didn’t pitch up a couple octaves. “Yeah, I mean you can do that, if you want.”

Smiling, Ian ran a hand up his back so that he could lead Mickey back through the doorway by the back of his head, rubbing and rocking it lightly, stomach flipping in excitement.  

Believe me - I will be revisiting museum security guard mickey again, taking down heists, helping lost kids, and knowing where all the major pieces are so when wimpy little art students like me come in looking for specific pieces he can give directions -the possibilities are endless.

link to AO3

#gallavich #shameless #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #gallavich fanfic #sgt says #prompt game