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#if it feels rushed thats because it is :D

lookitseddie · 2 years

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as promised, here’s a collection of head canons/just random thoughts that have been chewing away at my brain ever since @sofiaaaaaaaa03 made an innocent little post about their scribe of the gods series and we went completely off the rails about it in the notes

this ended up being much longer than I had expected and is still not as organised as I would have wanted, but it is what it is

anyways, enjoy me rambling about y/n and their antics <3

they hate basically any ancient painting that (for whatever reason) they happen to be in, because the artists never get (insert specific facial feature) right

sometimes looking at their own reflection makes them uncomfortable (’why do I look like that? I don't feel like it. I'm older.’) so they have curtains hung up on every mirror at their place, just in case

but its not like they don't age, its just a slower process. so whenever they notice random physical changes that weren’t there a couple years ago they get all giddy <3

there are certain food items/recipes that are no longer popular or even being made and they used to love them but can't ever taste them again :(

it takes everything they have in them not to correct people who believe a popularly accepted but historically inaccurate fact because answering the “,,,how do you know that?” question get a big awkward

on the other hand, they sometimes straight up refuse to indulge certain knowledge they have of old mysteries/conspiracies so they can be entertained by people’s (mostly steven’s) frustration

either that or they just say wildly incorrect things in a matter-of-fact way, again, leaving people (yes, mostly steven) really fucking confused

“oh yeah, einstien’s moustache was like completely fake, he used to put it on before every public appearance”

“,,,what-”

they for sure say shit like “hey, is that any way to talk to your elders now. hm?” whenever marc makes an even slightly rude remark

“well back in my day-” (referring to the 18th century)

oh you think remembering humiliating things you did 2 months ago is bad? try cringing over things you did in 1907, so much worse

they tell the boys about embarrassing and wacky things khonshu has done over the centuries so the system can use it against him

speaking of which, them judging marc for letting khonshu manipulate him is so much funnier with this context. because not only are they on the same boat, but they’ve been going through it for decades- which is comparatively so much worse- (true clown behaviour on their part)

and because of how much time they’ve spent merely existing, perceiving time is a constant struggle to them

steven: you’ve been working for a while now, mate. how about a break?

y/n: it’s been like 30 minutes, steven. i'm fine.

steven: 6 hours, actually. its been 6 hours

and it doesn’t go as small as just hours or minutes, sometimes they lose track of days. which is what caused the habit of always checking the date first thing in the morning to remind themselves that time is indeed moving at its normal pace; an anxiety that was amplified by spending time in the archives. they’ve lost way more time in there compared to canon

and this time around when they lost 5 years to that goddamned place again, the initial dread didn't last as long, instead replaced by a sense of unfortunate acceptance as they got ready to mold themselves according to the changed world once again

and because of the amount of times they’ve had to break apart and piece themselves together again to fit in, keeping a stable identity is important to them. just to reassure themselves that they are still them, even with how much everything else has changed

maybe they take those online personality quizzes over and over again, making sure to remember themselves and how they act, what they like etc. sure its a bit silly but whatever helps, right?

maybe they even tried joining those ‘post-snap counselling groups’ pretending that they had been snapped so they could talk about how they lost 5 years too, only slightly differently (idk how long that would last though)

on another note, I'd like to think that they’ve been a sort of mentor figure to every avatar that has come and gone. they’re always the one that a new avatar would go to if they needed advice or just general direction, knowing that because of how long y/n has done this, they would most likely have some advice

they also use this to their advantage sometimes when the avatar’s get into a bit of an argument at a meeting. using dialogues such as “you seem to forget I've had 10 times your experience, kid. I think I know better” isn’t something they really enjoy, but it gets the job done and djehuty seems quite entertained when they do it so oh well

SPEAKING OF DJEHUTY

I think the fact that djehuty has kind of been the only constant companion they’ve had throughout the years definitely causes mixed feelings for them, even before they found out they’re being manipulated. just his ever-lasting presence is a form of comfort, though he can be condescending and test y/n’s patience on a regular basis

he has seen his avatar get overwhelmed and breakdown numerous times over their long life, and its not that he doesn't want to help, its that he doesn't know how.

so he’ll sometimes come over and drop a piece of dark chocolate on their head to distract them

y/n: ,,,, the fuck was that??

djehuty: you looked sad

because sure he’s an asshole, but he’s as asshole who tries. I am the leader of the djehuty apologist group, can you tell?

y/n definitely has random flashbacks at time, accompanied by moments of dissociation because their head is filled with way too many memories and wait? has this exact same scenario happened before? was that memory? a dream? just deja vu?? what even is real??

losing their powers in the realm of the duat hit them like a truck. they’ve been able to carry things 5 times their own weight for so long that not being able to easily over power people (or hippos) sent them into instant fight or flight

also the fact that this time around when they died it would be such a cathartic moment??? because they were starting to believe that they would never get to feel the calming sensation of death wash over them (as morbid as that is) and how it must have felt to finally have that?? only to have to go back and choose hundreds of years of servitude once again

but also coming back with a soul this time, their soul, and experiencing what they could only describe as pure fucking euphoria (I still have multiple thoughts on that but that’s for another day)

in conclusion: they’re a mess, but they’re good at being one :)

#I wanted to get this out before my exams consumed me next week so sure this is a bit rushed #don't judge me #anyways kjsahda scribe of the gods makes me feel unknown emotions and this was my way of showing appreciation towards it #hope y'all enjoy #also I will most definitely have more thoughts on this but I doubt they will be coherent enough to post #thats all #gonna go upload a -give y/n a hug- campaign now #they need it #additional thoughts:#I really like how the losing track of time and having moments of severe dissociation helps them relate to the system even more #they're best buds your honour :D #and them having so many mixed feeling about whether or not to go back to djehuty because yeah fuck him. he hurt them #but he's all they've ever had. they have no life without him (or so they feel)

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lecl3rcw · 1 month

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KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS | leclerc brothers x reader

_______________________

part 1

“Y/N, it’s the middle of the fucking night in Monaco? You better have a good ass reason too wake me up” Arthur groaned at his twin as he groggily.

“You won’t believe it.” She says

“What?”

“THE BENGALS INVITED ME TO THEIR GAME” she says, a sudden burst of excitement ran through her

“Who are the bengals again?” He sighs

“….”

“Oh wait, it’s that one dude you like, what was his name again Joe Burrow?”

“YEAH AND GET THIS, I can bring up to 5 people, so you’re coming and so are Charles, Alex, Lorenzo and Maman” she says excitedly.

“Who says I’m going?” He says, earning himself a scowl.

“You don’t want to come?” She says, “well I mean not really”

“Ofcourse you don’t! I always show up for your events and you never show up for mine” she says, maliciousness lacing her tone.

“Y/N please, this isn’t your event, you’re not walking the runway or attending a premiere” he says, his tone now matching hers.

“Well even if I was, not like you’d show up anyways” she mutters.

“What are you yapping about? You’re being so dramatic, I mean not everything revolves around you okay? Some of us have actual problems” he says giving the final blow.

The girl takes a deep breath to collect her self. All her life she had spent living in the shadows of her siblings. She just wanted someone to show up for her, she remembers her first runway show, she had 4 seats reserved for her family yet when she walked out, all 4 of those chairs were empty, why? Because Charles had a last minute deals with a brand. They called and apologized and Ofcourse she put a brave face on, but only the walls of her room heard the way she cried herself to sleep that night.

“You know what? I’m going to let that slide, I don’t know what’s going on with you but I hope you make peace with yourself, and you don’t have to come, I’ll just ask Charles and Enzo. But anyways goodnight” she says

“Y/N-” Arthur tries to interrupt but she hangs up before he can say anything.

Had she overreacted? She felt a sudden rush of guilt overcome her. She couldn’t help but overthink. Her train of thoughts were interrupted by a FaceTime call from her brother's girlfriend.

"Hey babygirl" Alexandra says, "Hey bae, what's up?" she says propping her phone up on the table.

“Just checking in with you and your man situation” Alex says, her and Charles were in the Maldives, “oh it’s good, I got invited to the bengals game so” she replies, “WAIT THATS SO GOOD” Alex says excitedly, Y/N smiles.

“Do you and Charles want to come with me?” She asks hopeful, “well Charles will be preparing for his race but I can definitely come!! When is it?” She asks, “next week!”

“Oh yeah I can definitely make it!” She says,

“Ok we can fly together!! But I I’ll see you next week love ya!” She says hanging up.

The week came even before she could blink.

“So Y/N you excited?” Alexandra says, and Y/N nods.

When they arrive at the stadium, Y/N is immediately greeted by the bengals team.

“Thankyou so much for being our guest, I’m the head coach Zac Taylor” a man says reaching his hand to which she smiles and accepts.

“This is my friend Alexandra!” She says as Alex also shakes his hand, from the corner of her eye, Y/N could feel a certain pair of blue eyes stare at her, and her cheek flushed more.

She waves to the rest of the team, however the man with blue eyes seems to approach her first. “Hey, my name is Joe, I’m the quarterback” he says extending his hand, “I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what that it” Y/N chuckles shaking his hand which caused him to smile.

“Well if you umm give me your number maybe some time could teach you about football” he says very smoothly, which causes her to get flustered.

“Oh yeah, d-definitely! Here” she says giving him her number as he smiles, “you have such a beautiful smile” Joe says bringing up her hand to his lips before letting it go, “I’ll talk to you later” he says waving before going to get ready for his game. She just stands there in shock wondering what happened.

Alexandra squeals, “I saw that!! Y/N he so likes you” she says hugging the girl.

Y/N laughs and shakes her head, but the whole time she couldn’t take her eyes of him.

joeyb_9 started following you

y/n.leclerc

y/n.leclerc modeling for Dior has always been a dream of mine, so thankful to take this huge step into my career with the most amazing photographers, stylists, and makeup artists🫶🏻

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, joeyb_9, charles_leclerc, and 13,000,000 others

alexandrasaintmleux mami😍

^ y/n.leclerc kiss me rn😍

charles_leclerc alex has been staring at the phone for the past 15 minutes….

^ y/n.leclerc sounds like a you problem bud😪

fan1 NOT JOE BURROW LIKING?!!?!

^ fan2 IK HE NEVER LIKES

joeburrowswife idk I don’t see the hype

^ y/n2fine yet she’s pulling your “man”

rachelzegler welcome to the squad Y/N❤️

^ y/n.leclerc Thankyou rach💕🥹

bellahadid weird way to propose but yes😍

^ y/n.leclerc SHE SAID YES YALL💍👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x sister!reader #arthur leclerc #joe burrow x reader #nfl imagine #arthur leclerc x reader

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dkfile · 10 months

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gold rush

❛ everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you. ❜ ━gold rush, taylor swift

word count | 19.2k (19,220) genre | fluff, angst, slowburn, exes to lovers, summer au ━ gn!reader

though there is no denying that kim mingyu was once a big part of your life, you believe that the pain he’s left you with is long gone; he is a memory, and that is all he will ever be. but then you get home, and he’s there, and maybe you have to reconsider just how much you’ve moved on.

★ warnings | brief mention of injury/scars/blood, alcohol consumption, suggestive if u squint, seokmin and minghao meddling, i think thats it tell me if i missed anything ★ author’s note | it’s finally here!!! this took me longer than i thought it would, i really thought it’d only be on the shorter side (shorter side in dkfile means >10k words) but. this is literally 19k. i lied to myself i guess. hope u guys enjoy tho !! lmk your thoughts :D

In movies, summer signifies new beginnings. The sun’s radiance is bright enough to blind, the ocean glimmers underneath its attention, the sand is warm to the touch. Ice cream drips down your fingers and makes them uncomfortably sticky against the humid breeze. Some people come home, others leave, but they all have the intent of starting their new chapter right. Summer is about growth. It is about moving on.

It is not supposed to be about Kim Mingyu.

seok ☀️ > can you pls pick up the phone > i’m sorryyyyy that i lied to you ☹️ > forgive me!! 😓💔🙏 > do you need me to grovel? because i will

You scowl.

When you came back from college, welcomed home with open arms by your family and childhood friends, you were reassured that a certain boy — with golden skin, starry eyes, and your crushed heart in the palm of his hand — would not be back in town. Foolishly, you looked past the mischievous quirk of Minghao’s eyebrow, and the sheepish wince painted across Seokmin’s face when you expressed your delight at having them all to yourself.

There would be no ex-boyfriend to thwart your plans, no boy to drown your summer in gasoline and set it aflame.

But then your shopping cart bumps into someone else’s at the store, and when you look up, the bane of your existence is staring at you, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

You vaguely remember the rather sharp inhale Seokmin took from behind you before you scoffed, incredulous and irritated, and harshly stated that Seokmin could finish grocery shopping by himself. You do not want to associate yourself with the traitor and the liar your so-called best friend has become.

Seokmin claims you’re being rather overdramatic. He swears he didn’t know Mingyu would be home so soon.

(“So soon?” you repeated when you picked up Seokmin’s fifteenth call ten minutes ago. “What does that mean? That you knew he was always going to be coming home?”

“…Listen—”

You hung up).

You find yourself sitting in the skatepark a few blocks from the mart, legs curled up on the bench and your chin resting on your knees. As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the occupants slowly pack up and leave, until the sounds of wheels against concrete is replaced with the murmur of cicadas and the laughter from the occasional passerby.

The warmth of the wood seeps through your denim shorts, percolating across your body until you are hot underneath your clothes. Despite the heat of the day giving way to the mellow cool of the evening, sweat forms on your upper lip and hairline, an indicator that it’s too hot to sit out here and contemplate every choice you’ve made up until this moment.

Still, you stay; you’re not sure why. You never quite liked it here, had only enjoyed it when you were surrounded by your friends and their saccharine laughter. The scars on your leg are painful reminders of the multiple falls you took when he was teaching you how to skate.

(Sometimes, on bad nights, you still feel the ghost of his fingers on your waist and your wrist, guiding you on his board while children much younger than you zoom by).

You never left this area without a new injury, whether it be a bruise on the shin or a scrape on the knee.

Memories of what once was linger.

You do not remember what you had for breakfast this morning, or what show Seokmin recommended to you a few hours ago, or what car your dad was planning on buying.

But you remember Mingyu. You remember his smile and his sweet cologne and the way his hair fell into his eyes whenever his shoulders shook with laughter. You remember what it feels like to be in his bubble; it feels like you’ve been dumped into molasses — you become aware of your every move, and time begins to move just a little slower, as if you are trying to savour every moment before he disappears.

You feel him before you hear him.

That’s why you’re not surprised when he talks, his voice soft from where he stands behind the bench. You imagine him with his hands tucked into his pockets, staring at the empty ramps (he is not looking at you. You would know if he was looking at you. His gaze would burn more than a thousand wildfires).

“I thought they told you.”

Your voice comes out hoarse. “They told me you weren’t coming home.”

“Oh,” he doesn’t sound surprised, but he stills offers an apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? You’re not the one who lied.”

A quiet heartbeat passes. “Right.”

Your fingers drum against your calf. “How did you find me, anyway? Did Seokmin track my location?”

“No,” he murmurs. His voice has been quiet ever since he arrived. “I just… figured you’d be here.”

You swallow a large lump in your throat. “Oh,” you say weakly.

“Yeah,” he responds. There’s a brief moment of contemplation. He knows there’s a line he cannot cross, but he tries anyway. “Do you want a ride home?”

Your response is immediate and firm, and its harshness is enough to break the calm façade he unintentionally built around the both of you. “No. I’ll walk.”

“It’s hot,” he argues.

“I don’t need you, Mingyu,” you bite back. He clamps his mouth shut as unease settles in the pit of your stomach. “I don’t— I’ll be fine.”

He seems to hesitate; you aren’t sure how long he stands behind you, searching for a response.

Then, as if it pains him to say: “Okay.”

“Damn,” Minghao falls into Seokmin’s shoulder as they both laugh at your stumbling, “You suck!”

“Hey,” Mingyu barks, though he looks more like a puppy than the intimidating boy he imagines himself to be, “it’s not like you’re any better!”

You know Mingyu’s only saying this to make you feel better — Minghao is, arguably, the best on wheels out of the four of you — but the sentiment still warms your heart. At your smile, Mingyu’s annoyed mien is replaced with a grin of his own. He reaches over to squeeze your cheek.

“I believe in you,” he declares.

“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing,” you begin, stretching out your arms to balance on the board, “I don’t think I’m ever going to master this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Mingyu huffs, hands hovering over your sides once the skateboard begins to move, eyes trained on your feet. “By the time we get out of here, you’re gonna give Minghao a run for his money.”

You sigh. Mingyu was always one for wishful thinking.

“You really think I’ll be able to do this by myself in half an hour?”

Mingyu hums hopefully.

The sun has already begun to set, and you had promised your parents you’d be home for dinner. With fall around the corner, the days are slowly becoming shorter, a constant reminder that your last year of school is upon you. Next are college applications, then admissions, and conversations about your future that you aren’t quite ready to have.

But you’ll worry about that when you need to.

Because right now, there is the skate park, the late summer breeze, and Mingyu, who shrieks along with you when you lose balance. His arms grab onto your waist, bringing you back to the ground as the skateboard continues to roll down the concrete. Right now, there is the furrow of his eyebrows, the mixture of disappointment and amusement swirling in his eyes, and his forehead pressed against yours.

“I thought I told you not to zone out,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

You shrug, pecking his nose before pulling away to chase after the skateboard. “You’re so dramatic. The worst I could’ve gotten was a scraped knee.”

Mingyu scoffs. “So? I don’t want you getting hurt under my watch.”

“You’re my boyfriend, not my babysitter.”

“Well, I might as well be,” he argues. “You’re more accident prone than me.”

Laughing, you jokingly say, “Guess that means you’ve finally met your match, Kim.”

People used to say you and Mingyu were made for each other.

It is something you’ve tried to forget, but the fact follows you around like a shadow. This town, small and aware of the breakup, can’t seem to wrap their heads around the fact that you and Mingyu are no longer extensions of one another.

At some point, you hoped that people would understand your discomfort whenever he’s mentioned, but the fact of the matter is that you and Mingyu had been a package deal from when you were in diapers up until the end of senior year, and when you’re intertwined with someone for that long, it’s just as hard for you as it is for everyone to forget that part of yourself.

When you stop by the pharmacy, you don’t ask about him (you have no reason to), but the pharmacist still informs you that you’ve just missed him; when you see your mother’s colleague, she gushes about how nice it must be to see him after all this time (you do not have the heart to tell her otherwise); when you buy a pack of Sprite bottles for Mrs. Boo’s annual summer barbecue, the clerk asks if you know if he’s going to be in attendance (you say you have not talked to him in three years, and the clerk tilts his head in confusion).

Your patience has been worn thin by the time you arrive at Seokmin’s house.

“Hello, sunshine,” Minghao drawls when his attention settles on you. He watches you scowl before setting your bag on the armchair and taking a seat beside him on the couch. “How was your morning?”

“I’m ditching,” you declare, brushing off his question.

“Ditching what?”

“The barbecue,” you deadpan. “What else?”

“Now, why the hell would you do that?”

“Minghao,” you say blankly, “would it kill you to use your brain for once?”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

Seokmin enters the living room, carrying three cans of iced tea, all of which he places on the coffee table. He throws you and Minghao a look of annoyance. “If you guys are going to argue, please don’t do it under my roof,” he gestures around the room, “it kills the vibes.”

You roll your eyes but mutter an apology under your breath. Beside you, Minghao quips, “Y/N decided ditching the barbecue would be a good idea.”

You’re used to Seokmin’s mannerisms by now, so you don’t even flinch when he waves his arms around in disbelief. “What?” he exclaims, crouching in front of your legs and taking your hands into his. “Why the hell would you do that?”

Minghao hums. “That’s what I said.”

“Put that brain of yours to good use.”

“They said that to me, too.”

Seokmin huffs, knowing better than to let your quips deter him. “Please don’t tell me this is about Mingyu.”

You quirk an eyebrow, to which Seokmin scoffs, letting go of your hands before plopping down in front of you, even though there’s a free spot on the other side of Minghao. They scrutinize you for a moment, Seokmin’s eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a frown while Minghao stares blankly, showing no emotion or an indication of what’s going on inside his head.

It does nothing to make you feel comfortable.

You aren’t a stranger to Minghao and Seokmin’s examinations — they’re experts when it comes to breaking you down with analyzations and calculating eyes. But you haven’t been home in three years, and being on the receiving end of something as intense as this is startling, if not a little troubling.

(Being the only one enduring this, absent of a certain boy, is unsettling as well, though you’d rather die than admit that).

Seokmin nudges your ankle with his knee. “You know you’ll regret not going to this thing,” he says, eyes sparkling with amusement when you bristle. “You haven’t seen the Boo’s in forever, too. They’d be sad if you miss it.”

“Imagine how Seungkwan would feel,” Minghao adds, poking your arm to look at him, and continues to do so when you don’t. “He’d be miserable.”

You pout. “I doubt it.”

“You were in the same badminton club for five years,” Minghao argues softly, “I think he would be.”

Seokmin states, “And you’re not the type of person to let someone down, are you?” He pauses for a moment before adding, “Well, other than me and Minghao, on occasion.”

You cross your arms, leaning further into the couch as you avoid eye contact. You’re adamant on skipping, but Seokmin and Minghao know you better than anyone else, so they know exactly how to word their sentences and fabricate their bribes to get you to agree. They know, as long as you keep this up, the entirety of your summer will be spent in the four walls in your house, the only place in town guaranteed to not have Kim Mingyu.

And it may be pathetic, really, to continue letting him affect you like this.

(But it has always been you and Mingyu, Mingyu and you. He is part of your soul. There is a void in your chest that’s the shape of him. How are you supposed to erase all memory of someone like that?)

A painted fingernail pokes your side, a knee bumps your shin. Your friends look at you, hopeful.

A sigh.

“Okay, fine.”

“Can I ask you something?”

You hum, collapsing on the bench beside Seungkwan, his newly dyed platinum blonde hair appearing orange under the setting sun. Sweat trinkles down his frame but his breathing remains even, showing no sign that he just finished playing a rather intense badminton game a few minutes prior.

“What are you guys doing after you graduate?”

You take a sip from your water bottle in hopes the liquid will make it easier to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You have never minded these types of conversations, though the reminder of the future creates a pit in your stomach that only continues to grow larger with each passing day. And, knowing Seungkwan, you know there is more to his question than college applications and major declarations.

“What do you mean?”

“You, Mingyu, Minghao, and Seokmin,” Seungkwan elaborates. “You’re all going to different colleges, right?”

Pursing your lips, you risk a glance at him, only to find that he’s staring ahead. “Minghao’s going abroad, yeah, and Seokmin’s thinking of staying here,” you explain, voice low. “Mingyu and I are going to be together, though.”

At this, Seungkwan turns to you, eyebrows furrowed. “You two are going to the same university?”

There is something about the way he asks this — unsure, withdrawn, and cautious. You see the flare of uncertainty in his eyes, and it’s enough for your heartrate to quicken.

“Yeah. Why?”

He opens and closes his mouth. There is war in his head. Very rarely do you see Seungkwan at a loss for words. He is usually so quick on his feet, so witty, so talkative, and the silence that falls between you both is painful and nerve-wracking.

Should you be worried?

“Nothing,” he eventually settles for, ignoring the silent question in your eyes. “I was just thinking about how nice that would be.”

You decide to believe him. It is so much easier to be ignorant, you think.

(But it is also much more painful later. You do not allow yourself to dwell).

“Why’d you ask, anyway?”

“I was just talking to Vernon and Chan, and I realized we all want different things,” Seungkwan sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “We won’t all be together much longer. It feels… weird.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you guys will be able to stay in touch?”

You shrug hopefully. “I think so,” you say, shifting your gaze to the horizon, “we’ve been friends forever. It’d take a lot to break that up.”

The scent of tangerines and aftershave fill your nose as you’re ambushed by a boy bursting with energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he resides in your arms, squeezing you tight as he spews angry statements that all come from a place of love.

Seungkwan is grinning by the time you pull away, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you further into the backyard to catch up with other people. He doesn’t dare leave your side — he’s convinced you’ll slip away and disappear if he does — and you’re thankful; you don’t have the energy to steamroll through conversations today.

Though it’s humid, the warmth you’re engulfed in is a product of the Boo household. It is homely and welcoming and an embodiment of everything you’ve ever missed about home all in one lot. You should be happy to be here, surrounded by people you haven’t seen in years as a consequence of your avoidance, pulled into an endless pool of memories and nostalgia.

But you cannot shake it, the uneasiness.

You feel it as soon as the gate swings open and he enters, carrying two large Tupperware containers, one filled with brownies and the other with lemon squares. You feel it when he flashes his signature smile, canines as pearly white and blinding as you remember, and it still fills you with a sickening sense of joy.

“I’m gonna go get a brownie,” Seungkwan announces, loud enough to snap you out of it. “Do you want one?”

“No,” you decline, forcing yourself to smile even when you feel a burning sensation at the back of your head. “Thank you, though.”

Seungkwan nods and makes his way to the refreshments table, but not before wagging a finger in warning, “Don’t leave without saying goodbye!”

You frantically search the backyard, looking for any sign of Minghao or Seokmin, or maybe a superhero of some sorts to pull you away so you don’t disintegrate in the presence of Mingyu.

In your periphery, you see him excuse himself from conversations, eyes flickering towards you with a determination you aren’t unfamiliar with. It’s remorseful and desperate, and it reminds you of an instance in the skatepark a few years ago, you in his sweater and drowning in heartbreak and sorrow.

Someone swings their arm over your shoulder.

“Hey,” Minghao murmurs, steering you further into the backyard, away. You can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes you. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you grit your teeth.

“You’re gonna have to talk to him at some point,” he says, dropping his arm once he’s decided you’re far enough. “I feel like it’d do the both of you some good.”

“I have nothing to say to him,” you protest. “And I’m sure he has nothing to say to me.”

“I really don’t think that’s the truth.”

“It is.”

“You were in love with him,” he says. It slips out of his lips so easily, as if he were talking about the weather or the shapes of the clouds. You wish you could mutter an admission like that — accept something like that — the way he had. “And he was in love with you, and it ended badly. That is more than enough of a reason to talk.”

It ended badly. You always associated a statement like that with relationships that ended in screaming matches or slamming doors. Ones where a simple argument escalated into one that finalized a conclusion, ones where there was nothing in the room but anger and exhaustion that overpowered the love.

You’ve never associated it with how your relationship with Mingyu ended. The sun was rising, and birds were chirping, and you were standing in the same spot you asked him out, the same spot he asked you to prom, the same spot he murmured three simple words into your ear before you fell asleep on his shoulder on the park bench.

It didn’t end because of a fight. Sometimes, you wish it had — maybe then you’d feel differently about everything, about him.

It just came to a halt, and he had been the one to step on the brakes.

“Talk to him,” Minghao urges again, sympathetic but firm. “You don’t have to do it now, but just do it before you leave. Don’t you think you deserve some closure?”

You find him talking to some of your classmates from your graduating class. They hang onto every word he says, face alit with curiosity and admiration, because some things never change, and he has been put on a pedestal since birth. In the hallways of the high school, his name is on the trophies, he’s beaming in most of the pages in the yearbook, he is this town’s pride and joy.

But you know him.

You see him smile and you’re not blind to the discomfort and falseness behind it. He doesn’t want to be there, you think, and your thoughts are proven correct when he glances up to look at you, and his mask slips by a fraction. For a moment, you see sincerity, a glimpse of the Mingyu you once knew.

Someone taps him on the shoulder and, as you predicted, he puts the mask back on.

You hate that you still know him like the back of your hand.

He is leaning against your frame, playing with your fingers, when he asks the question.

“How do you do it?” he wonders, looking up briefly to meet your questioning gaze before returning his focus on your hands, tapping them to the beat of an overplayed pop song.

His head has dipped down, allowing you to rest your cheek against it. “Do what?”

“Talk to everyone like that,” he says, using his free hand to gesture towards the backyard filled with the people you’re currently hiding from. The both of you sit on the staircase by the front entrance, away from any prying eyes. “They were hanging onto every word you said. They’re practically in love with you.”

You snicker. “What, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

Mingyu matches your teasing tone with a playful lilt of his own. “Oh, I am. I’ve got some competition.”

You nudge him with your shoulder. “Don’t be too upset when I pick Mrs. Boo over you.”

He hums. “No promises.”

A blanket of comfortable silence falls over you. He fidgets with your hands, brushing his thumb over your nails, and tracing the lines of your palms with his index finger. You close your eyes, listening to the fading chatter of the town and the faint sizzling of meat on the grill.

“I should be asking you that, y’know,” you eventually mumble. Mingyu’s movements stop. “You’ve got the whole town wrapped around your finger. I’m pretty sure everybody loves you.”

To get you to open your eyes, he pokes your cheek. “The same could be said about you,” he responds. “Besides, people only like the idea of me. What would they say if they found out my room’s never clean and I cycle through the same two pairs of socks year-round?”

You wrinkle your nose. “God, remind me to buy you a pack of socks from the store next time I’m at the mall.”

He laughs, an unpleasant snort involuntarily escaping his nose. “I’m serious. They don’t like me. They like the illusion.”

You finally look at him, meeting his softened gaze and mellow smile. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

“No, not really,” he shrugs, but there is a minuscule halt in his voice that you don’t catch. “The only opinion that matters to me is yours.”

You’re convinced Seokmin and Minghao are saints.

(You would never admit this, though. They would never shut up if you did).

For the entire 40-minute car ride, they manage to keep the calm, filling the silence with anecdotes about people you have only heard about through irregular video calls, and arguments about who should be in control of the music. Eventually, they settle for handing the aux over to Mingyu, who meets your gaze through the rearview mirror before clicking on a familiar playlist and looking out the window.

After the first five songs, your face heats up as you remember bashfully making him a playlist back in high school. You settle into your spot, hoping the battered polyester of Seokmin’s car seats will swallow you whole.

When you agreed to tag along on their trip out of town and into the city, Minghao and Seokmin didn’t bother hiding their surprise, especially since they made it clear Mingyu was going to be in attendance. Seungkwan even offered to let you carpool with him, Vernon, and Chan, but you declined — you might as well suck it up, seeing as you and Mingyu are going to be in the same vicinity for the rest of the summer.

Still, you can’t help but regret your decisions as you squirm in the backseat behind Seokmin, who’s fiddling with the A/C, listening intently to a story Minghao’s telling about some scandal involving two classmates he’s never talked to before. You’re thankful for their nosiness, because it gives you some level of comfort and helps you ignore Mingyu’s fleeting glances from the passenger seat.

“The professor’s a hardass so everyone was convinced they were fucking,” Minghao says, leaning forward in his seat. “Turns out he was just her stepdad, who suffered from a chronic case of favouritism.”

Seokmin snorts. “Out of all the conclusions to jump to, that’s the one they picked?”

Minghao quirks an eyebrow. “You of all people should not be saying that.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

As Seokmin and Minghao begin to bicker for the nth time that evening, your gaze slides from the window to the Snoopy trinket hanging from the rearview mirror to the mirror itself, and you can’t find it in you to be surprised when you see Mingyu already looking at you. An unsaid question dances in his eyes, wary and timid.

Are you sure this is okay?

You gulp, worrying your lips between your teeth before shrugging. Yes, it’s fine.

He raises his eyebrow. This is the first time you’ve acknowledged him tonight.

Really?

You shrug again. Really.

And you leave it at that, turning again to look outside.

Seokmin takes fifteen minutes to find a decent parking spot, so when you finally enter the nightclub, you’re prepared for the scowl on Seungkwan’s face when he spots the four of you. He scolds Seokmin first and receives a flick to his forehead in response, which only angers him more. Before you can meet his wrath, you slip away, moving to enter the booth and letting Mingyu and Minghao get the brunt of Seungkwan’s rage and disappointment.

“Y/N!” Chan exclaims when you settle next to him, wrapping his arms around your torso to give you a brief hug before sliding you his unfinished pint of beer. “I haven’t talked to you in forever!”

When you take a sip of the alcohol, you try your best to hide your grimace when the lukewarm liquid hits your tongue. “I talked to you at the barbecue two days ago.”

“Well, I missed you. Sue me,” he throws his hands up in exasperation. Across from you, Vernon hides his amused smile behind his own pint. “You come home after, what, three years? Forgive me if I’ve become clingy.”

“Didn’t know you missed me so much.”

Vernon’s eyes are dripping with mirth. “He went broke from using all his coins at the fountain in town square,” he says, laughing when Chan shoots him daggers. “He went there whenever he was free and was wishing you’d come back—”

“He’s exaggerating,” Chan huffs. In retaliation to Vernon’s teasing, Chan takes his friend’s pint of beer and chugs it down until there is nothing left. “I only wished whenever Mingyu was home, he was so mopey, he would’ve been happier if you were here.”

You freeze.

“Okay,” Vernon interjects, pushing himself out of his seat to move all the empty glasses away from Chan, as if doing so will help the situation. He throws you an apologetic look, though it lacks his usual sincerity. “That’s enough for tonight.”

Chan whines. “But I wanted to do tequila shots with everyone.”

“Drink this first,” Vernon instructs.

Chan grumbles but accepts the glass of water Vernon gives him.

Before you can say something about Chan’s offhanded comment, the rest of your friends climb into the booth, and Vernon and Chan ease their way into their conversation as soon as everyone’s seated. You lean back, cowering behind Minghao and Chan’s frames as Seungkwan makes a joke you barely catch and Minghao repeats every story he told on the journey here.

You try your best to engage in the conversation, really, but it’s been so long since you’ve been with this group of people. As they discuss events you were never there for, snippets of a summer you weren’t part of, the awkwardness begins to build in your stomach, because it was never supposed to be like this, you were never supposed to feel left out.

If the person you were a few years ago saw you now, you know they’d be a little disappointed. Maybe they’d pity you, too.

The consequences, you suppose, of never coming home.

Sighing, you gesture for Minghao to slip out of the booth so you can get out. You say something about going to the bar to get another drink, and he nods, squeezing your shoulder — his silent way of telling you to stay safe — before letting you go.

You try your best to avoid any stumbling individuals, wrinkling your nose and murmuring apologies that get lost in the noise when you can’t avoid bumping into someone. With a glance over your shoulder, you make sure your friends aren’t paying any attention to you before making your way towards the exit.

It’s a warm evening, but it’s cooler than it is inside, and you relish in the temporary peace before you have to inevitably make your way back. They’ll notice if you’re gone too long, and they’ve always been easy to worry.

“Hey.”

A tall frame enters your periphery, clad in a loose white t-shirt and light-washed jeans, staring ahead at the passing cars. You ignore the way his face falls when you shuffle further to the side, away from him.

Your history aside, Kim Mingyu has always run hot. Before, you wouldn’t mind — before, you would’ve been clinging onto him — but time has passed, and you aren’t the same people you were back in high school.

A part of you misses it. There is something so comfortable about Mingyu that you can only describe in insignificant memories, like when he moves you to the side furthest from the road, or when he wraps his scarf around your neck because the cold is nipping at your nose, or when he buys mini versions of your skincare products to keep in his house for when you’re too tired to drive back home.

It's almost homely. Like a hug, maybe.

(You missed it a lot, at first, his aura. Whenever you needed it most, you’d lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, and instead of sheep lulling you into slumber, it’s him. Way back when, he’d rub circles into your wrist to help you fall asleep, and you think of it then, because it used to bring you so much comfort).

(In your dreams, you murmur his name — Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu — like a prayer, like an incantation).

“I’m sorry.”

You jolt in surprise. Not at his voice, but at the apology. “Why?”

“You’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” you protest with a frown. “I’m just… I couldn’t think of how to contribute to the conversation, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says gently. He looks relieved. “So, you’re okay that I’m here?”

“Yeah, I mean, they’re your friends, too.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

A quiet moment passes, and you see the relief begin to crumble.

“Yeah, I don’t mind that you’re here,” you offer. The next sentence slips out before you can stop it, “I’m glad, actually.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “You are?”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, wincing. “A little. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Before this month, you only saw him through Instagram, glimpses of his life that were curated to make his life seem special and happy and void of any worries. You only heard about him — the real him — when his name accidentally slipped out of your friends’ or your family’s mouths.

You can’t help but think that it wasn’t enough.

“How’s school?” he asks, subtly moving so he’s slightly facing you.

“It’s alright,” you answer. “Stressful, but that’s a given. My roommate got a boyfriend, though. He leaves his shit everywhere and he acts like he lives there.”

A soft chuckle leaves his lips. “Yeah, I know, Minghao told me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Oh? Why would he tell you that?”

“I asked,” he shrugs. You finally, really look at him now, and your confusion is evident. He seems unfazed by it, but you can see the crimson slowly climbing up his neck. “I ask about you sometimes.”

“Why?”

You know why, you think. What’s the point in asking when you already know the reason behind his actions and intentions? Your soul is intertwined with his, it has been for a while, but you can’t seem to accept it.

You still hurt.

Minghao’s right. Maybe the closure is needed.

“Because I care about you,” he confesses, trying his best to hide his yearning. “You were my best friend, and I want to know if you’re still doing okay.”

Your fingers shake, so you stuff them into the pockets of your sweater. “And what do they tell you when you ask?”

He hesitates, scanning your face while he plans his best course of action. The wounds haven’t closed, the stitches were poorly sewn, and blood spills out of the cuts he left like the damage he’s done is fresh.

“They tell me that I should ask you myself,” he says, “But sometimes they take pity on me, and they’ll tell me things you’ve told them. Like the roommate situation, or the barista who fucked up your order, or how you scored the highest on an exam— congratulations, by the way.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Thank you,” you reply meekly.

“It’s no problem,” he responds. Contemplation flickers across his face before he adds, rather reluctantly, “I’m proud of you, you know.”

You feel the same way you did when he first confessed, like an immature and blubbering teenager, full of hope and optimism and dreams of what could be.

“Mingyu—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts. “I’ve seen the stuff you’ve posted, and I should’ve congratulated you then, I know that, but—”

You give him a small smile. “Better late than never.”

He flashes you a grin, the same one you’d longed to see, the one you used to humiliate yourself for. You would’ve done anything to see him smile like that — a smile that isn’t put on just for show, but one that’s genuine and blinding. It’s something reserved for certain people, those who have seen through the illusion that was created for him, those who have seen it and still love him for who he is, despite his faults and imperfections.

He nods. “Better late than never.”

Despite your best efforts to squash your delight, your heart escapes your desperate grip, and it soars.

It’s cold.

The ground has frozen over, leaving jagged pieces of ice all over the concrete. The snow, previously a crisp white, has turned brown due to its contact with cars. The wind is cold, persistent, it refuses to let you forget about its existence with each gust.

On the other side of the parking lot, you see your friends whisper amongst themselves before one of them throws his hands up in exasperation and stomps over to his car, a beat-up vehicle with torn polyester seats and discarded bubblegum wrappers on the floor. He’s grumbling something under his breath as he settles into the driver’s seat and leaves without so much as a goodbye.

It’s cold, and something’s wrong.

Your eyes find Mingyu’s and your stomach sinks.

Something’s wrong, but you’re unsure whether you’ll find out what it is tonight.

“Hey,” you say once he’s in earshot. He stiffens at the sound of your voice. “Is Seokmin okay?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “I’ll just apologize tomorrow morning.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing big.” He tightens the scarf around his neck and turns to walk towards his car. You follow, because with Mingyu you always do, and look at him over the roof as he digs in his pockets for his keys.

You clench your jaw, uncomfortable (when was the last time you’ve felt unpleasant around him? Things have started getting weirder since everyone started sending in their college applications). You wonder if you should push for answers, but you stop yourself before you can open your mouth. You’ve never done something like this before — Mingyu has always told you everything; secrets between the two of you are scarce.

He unlocks the doors. “Is it okay if we stop by the convenience store before I bring you home? I gotta buy some ramen for my sister.”

He looks tired. Maybe you can ask him about what happened another day.

“Yeah, sure.”

He nods in thanks and enters before another gust of wind hits — it’s harsher this time, as if it’s sending you a warning.

You really should’ve brought your own scarf.

When your family yells for you to open the door, the last thing you expect to see on the other side of it is Kim Mingyu.

Your ire is gone in a flash.

“Um…”

Mingyu winces. “Hi. Sorry, I— your brother called me, he said it was an emergency, and I was worried, so—”

“Mingyu!” your brother yells excitedly, running out of the kitchen before throwing his arms around Mingyu’s torso. “You’re here! Thank God, Y/N was ruining the cake—”

You scoff loudly. “What the fuck, Daeshim? You’re the one who put in salt instead of sugar—"

“Get in, get in!” Daeshim says cheerily, throwing you a glare. You narrow your eyes in return, ignoring how Mingyu’s hands brush against yours when he makes his way towards the kitchen after toeing off his shoes. Daeshim pokes you. “I’m telling Mom you swore.”

“What are you, five?”

Daeshim sticks his tongue out. “Add some money in the swear jar.”

“I hate you,” you deadpan. Your eyes flicker to the white sneakers neatly placed by the other footwear, worn from years of use. “Why did you ask him to come here?”

Your brother shrugs. “He usually stops by, anyway, to help for Mom’s birthday.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically, gesturing for you to move so he can shut the front door. “Are you sure you guys broke up? Cause when you didn’t come home for the summer, he would still check up on us and stuff, and he’d always ask about you. It was so weird. It felt like I was a child of divorce.”

You smack him on the head. “Can you not say that about my relationship?”

“Well, it’s not a relationship anymore,” he quips.

You tense, crossing your arms so you don’t give Daeshim the delight of seeing your clenched fists. “You know what I meant.”

“If you don’t want to stay, then go. But he’s not going anywhere until Mom’s cake is done.”

“Why not? We were doing just fine without him.”

“Are you serious? You know he’s better at baking than you ever will be.”

“Okay, rude.”

“It’s true—”

“Uh, guys?” Both of your heads snap to wear Mingyu peeks around the corner, his amusement thinly veiled behind his distress. “Your kitchen’s a mess.”

Daeshim grins, pointing his finger at you. “Y/N’s fault!” he exclaims before heading to the kitchen.

You poke your cheek with your tongue in annoyance, watching your sibling nonchalantly disappear from your line of sight before you focus on Mingyu. He’s leaning against the wall now, hands shoved in his sweatpants and his head tilted to the side. He looks at you like he’s studying you, trying to find a sign of any kind that he needs to leave.

He must’ve found nothing because he stays.

You clear your throat, straightening your posture. “It was not my fault.”

His lips quirk up. “Oh, I’m sure.”

He disappears before you can retort.

(He’s always been good at that — leaving before you have a chance to fight).

When you finally join them in the kitchen, there’s a familiar baby pink apron around Mingyu’s neck, already splattered with cake batter as he whisks something in a steel bowl. Daeshim is crouched in front of the fridge, putting containers of leftovers on the floor in search of something. You kick his leg with your foot, throwing him off balance, and you both give each other matching scowls.

“Don’t put the Tupperware on the floor.”

He rolls his eyes but picks them up without argument, placing them on the empty counter by the fridge. You don’t understand why he couldn’t have done that in the first place, but Daeshim is notorious for making terrible decisions.

You don’t miss the way Mingyu’s eyes soften when he sees you. “You’re gonna help?”

“I came with the intention to supervise Daeshim and make sure he doesn’t accidentally set something on fire, but…” you shrug, “I could help, yeah.”

“Perfect,” Mingyu grins. “Can you get the baking pan?”

You do as he asks, handing it over to him over the kitchen island. “You’re gonna put it in the oven already? Daeshim was complaining about the batter so much he almost convinced me there was no saving it.”

Mingyu snorts as he cautiously pours the mixture into the pan. “He was just being overdramatic—”

Daeshim snaps from his spot near the fridge. “Are you guys just gonna talk about me as if I’m not here?”

“—it was only a little runny,” he assures, making sure not a drop of batter ends up on the floor or the countertop. Once he’s done, he brushes his hands on the apron and wipes his forehead with his arm. “Can you put it in the oven? You guys preheated it, right?”

You hum in confirmation, carefully placing the tin in the oven as Mingyu steps over Daeshim to try and get to the sink. You frown at your brother, who’s been scouring for something since you walked in. “What the hell are you even looking for?”

“Strawberry milk.”

“I drank it all.”

Daeshim huffs. “Of course you did.” He stands, slamming the fridge door with a dramatic flick of his wrist before hastily making his way out of the kitchen and towards the exit. “I’m gonna go to the convenience store to get some.”

“Wha— No, you have to help clean—”

“Can’t hear you!”

There’s a few more footsteps and the sound of Daeshim struggling to put his shoes on before the door inevitably slams shut.

You don’t let the shock of your brother’s irritating audacity bother you for too long. The way your fingers swipe through your phone to find his contact is lightning quick, but the first call is sent to voicemail and before you can even try his cell a second time, you find that you’re blocked.

Prick.

Mingyu’s humming catches your attention. You look up from your phone to find him with his back against the sink. “Voicemail?”

“Blocked.”

Mingyu snorts. “Of course.”

You send him an awkward smile before turning away so you don’t have to face him. You and Mingyu haven’t spoken since last week on that trip out of town; after the two of you slipped back inside, no words were exchanged except for an apprehensive goodnight when Seokmin dropped you off at home.

With friends as nosy as your own, privacy is hard to come by, but now, in their absence, there’s nothing more you want than a buffer. The tension’s become more palpable without a third party, and your palms are getting clammy at just the thought of searching for an excuse to kick Mingyu out of the house without hurting his feelings.

(Why do you care? He hurt you first, didn’t he?)

“Hey,” Mingyu calls out tentatively. “Do you want me to help clean up? It’s a mess in here.” When you don’t reply, he adds, “I don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”

You take a look at the kitchen around you and decide that you don’t want him to leave, either.

“Okay.”

Mingyu grins. “Okay.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to find a system that’s not messy or chaotic or involves stepping into the other’s path — you and Mingyu have always been like that, like a cohesive unit. The feeling that shoots through your veins at the realization that you still are is nothing short of euphoric.

Before you know it, the kitchen is clean. The surface sparkles as Mingyu swipes a finger at it to see if there’s anything he’s missed, looking up at you with fleeting disappointment.

You think he’s about to announce that it’s time for him to go, but he surprises you when what comes out of his mouth is a question instead.

“Can I ask you something?”

You press yourself against the counter, thankful for the kitchen island acting as a barrier between you both. “Sure.”

“If we…” he pauses. Regret already begins to fester in his skin, pulled down by the weight of his frown and the pinch in his eyebrows. “Uh, never mind.”

Your heart lurches in your ribcage. “Mingyu—”

“It’s fine,” he assures but his smile is tight, and his tone says otherwise, “I should probably head back. I’ll — uh — I’ll see you?”

You gnaw at your bottom lip. “Yeah,” you say, ignoring the way your heart begins to crack as Mingyu unties the apron and slips it over his head. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

A worrying cloud has attached itself to you, nibbling on every last bit of your sanity like a parasite. Because something is wrong, you’re sure of it, even if everyone around you acts otherwise. Seokmin still laughs and makes bad jokes, Minghao still scolds you for not bundling up more when it’s so cold outside, and Mingyu still attracts attention and reaches for your hand and pokes your cheek whenever you’re not paying enough attention to him.

Everything is normal.

(But…)

“Does this look stupid?” Mingyu asks, staring at the banner he’s hung up.

Minghao grabs a macaroon from the table and rearranges the assortment, so it looks like he never laid a finger on it. “Yes.”

Mingyu huffs before turning to you. “Is it really?”

“It’s a little crooked,” you say, taking your eyes off him for a moment when Minghao presses the macaroon into your palm after making a face to suggest he doesn’t like it.

As Mingyu assesses the best way to fix the Happy Birthday! banner, Minghao starts poking at the pile of presents. You frown, kicking his ankle with your foot in an attempt to get him to stop. He only flicks your shoulder in response.

“Don’t touch those,” you hiss.

“I’m just trying to guess what other people got him,” Minghao retorts.

You deadpan, “You’re sizing up the competition.”

“Yes,” he confirms, “I need to make sure my present is better than all of these.”

“You got him a gift card to Party City. I didn’t even know they had those.”

“He can use it for Halloween!”

“Halloween is nine months away.”

“Oh, whatever,” Minghao grumbles. “Seungkwan will find some sort of use for it. All that matters is that my present isn’t the worst one.” He turns to you, jabbing a finger at your shoulder. “Hey, wait, what did you get him?”

You push his wrist as a scowl takes over your previous amused expression. “What’s it to you?”

“You’re a horrible gift-giver.”

“That’s not true!” you object, immediately turning to walk over to Mingyu, who’s staring at the banner in distress. “Gyu! I need to ask you something—”

“Nuh-uh, you can’t ask him, he’ll agree with you!”

You mockingly pout at Minghao before tugging Mingyu’s sleeve. “Hey, babe, question.”

Mingyu’s more than happy to have his attention on something else, letting his hands that were previously taping up the banner fall onto your shoulders. “What’s up?”

“I’m a good gift-giver, right?”

A moment passes. You scoff. Minghao cackles.

“Listen—”

“What the hell?”

“I love you and everything,” Mingyu begins, “but you really aren’t.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t,” he says quickly. “You love me. Even though you gave me a terrible birthday present last year.”

“You said you liked that apron!”

Minghao pipes up, “There’s a reason why he leaves it at your house, Y/N.”

You gasp, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend’s chest. Before you have a chance to defend your honour, Seokmin comes barrelling into the rented community centre, carrying two boxes of used decorations.

“Hey, guys,” he exhales, out of breath, dropping the large containers on the floor with a relieved huff. “So, the guests are coming in, like, twenty minutes, and Chan’s getting Seungkwan here in forty-five, so that should give us enough time to finish decorating… Mingyu, I thought I told you to deal with the banner?”

“It’s not cooperating with me,” your boyfriend whines.

Seokmin rolls his eyes before stomping over to the wall to fix the banner himself. Mingyu follows, grabbing the tape on his way so he can help. They don’t talk, at least not at a volume that allows you to hear what they’re saying — it’s only heated whispers that are exchanged, and you catch a glimpse of Mingyu’s nervous expression before it disappears completely.

He looks over his shoulder and flashes you a smile and it’s the same one you’ve seen him give everyone else. It’s a mask.

This isn’t something you should be on the receiving end of.

You open your mouth to say something — to say what, exactly, you aren’t sure — but Minghao tugs at your wrists and holds up a packet of balloons.

“We should start doing something before Seokmin gets mad,” he says before dragging you out of Seokmin and Mingyu’s earshot.

It’ll be okay, you think. This will pass over and your friend group will still be as close as you can be once university comes and you and Mingyu pack your bags, leaving this small town behind.

(But your worries refuse to let go; they’ve seeped into your bones, and you think their weight may crush you until you’re broken beyond repair. But ignorance is bliss, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve always said to yourself. And you’ve never needed to worry about something like this, whatever it is, before).

Everything will be fine.

Everything will not be fine, and you aren’t sure why Minghao thought it would be, but he was unbelievably wrong.

A rainy day has caused a picnic in the park to turn into a board game night at Seokmin’s house, and a homicidal game of Monopoly (a skit between Chan and Seokmin had been the last straw before Minghao flipped the board over) quickly transformed into a homicidal game of Twister. Before you is a jungle of limbs, and you’re glad that you were fast enough to volunteer to spin the wheel so you wouldn’t be caught in the inevitable crossfire.

“Left hand, red.”

Chan’s complaints come immediately.

“Chan,” Seungkwan warns, “I will kill you if you try to push me off.”

“I haven’t even moved yet.”

Seungkwan mocks his words with a high-pitched tone that barely resembles Chan’s voice before Minghao scolds them to cut it out and hurry up. Chan scoffs indignantly before moving his hand to a free red circle, struggling to find his balance.

“Are you good?” you ask blankly.

“Fine,” he grits out, “Just go so it gets to my turn faster.”

“Go slower!” Vernon exclaims from beside you, the first to be eliminated with his phone in one hand and a handful of popcorn in the other.

“Fuck you, Vernon!”

You spin the wheel. “Hao, right foot, green.”

Minghao huffs, but his new position, although uncomfortable, has given him the perfect opportunity to sabotage Seokmin. Almost as if they can sense your thoughts, your friends look at each other, one mischievous and the other in warning, before Minghao fakes a move, successfully luring Seokmin into his trap when the latter flinches and flails like a fish out of water before landing on his side.

Seokmin groans, sitting up and rubbing his ribcage as everyone laughs. He looks to you, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that always manage to worm him out of any undesirable situation he’s ever found himself in, but you only shrug helplessly in response. Seokmin sighs, flicking Minghao’s forehead, before making he settles beside you in all his pouty, wronged glory.

“It’s okay,” Vernon says from your other side, phone speaker pressed against his ear as a video of what just occurred plays on the phone. The sound of Seokmin’s yelp of surprise from 30 seconds ago causes your lips to twitch upwards. “You’ll get them next time!”

Seokmin leans into your shoulder. “Y/N! He’s making fun of me!”

You pat him reassuringly. “You’ll survive, don’t worry.”

“Hey!” Seungkwan interrupts. “Spin the wheel! It’s my turn.”

“Okay, okay! Right foot, blue.”

Much to your surprise, the rest of the game goes by smoothly with Seungkwan as the victor. Chan is beside himself, grumbling with his arms crossed as Seungkwan mimics the fall that led to his demise. When Chan opens his mouth to snap back, Minghao reaches over Vernon’s lap for the remote to increase the volume of the TV.

Once their argument has died down, Chan suggests, “Does anyone want to play Cards Against Humanity?”

“Lame, absolutely not,” Seokmin replies instantly. “I’m hungry.”

Seungkwan makes himself comfortable on the armchair. “Pizza should be coming soon. Who ordered it, anyway?” Mingyu raises his hand. “What did you get?”

“One cheese, one pepperoni.”

Chan boos, making a comment about the mediocre order which Mingyu skillfully brushes off, immune to his friends’ instigations after years of receiving them.

Minghao pokes Mingyu with his foot. “Can you check to see what time it’ll get here?”

Mingyu unlocks his phone while Vernon begins complaining about having to register for classes first thing tomorrow morning. His whines are halted, however, when Mingyu sharply inhales a breath and clears his throat sheepishly.

You raise an eyebrow. Everyone in the room knows what that means.

“Oh, what did you do now?”

“Seungkwan! What makes you think I did something wrong?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Mingyu shakes his head before turning his phone so the screen is facing all of you. The screen says the order’s been good to go for the past five minutes, but— “I accidentally ordered for pick-up, not delivery.”

Chan rolls his eyes. “Then go pick it up.”

“What?”

“Well, it says the order’s ready, right? Go pick it up.”

“But I’m so comfortable here.”

“And we’re hungry.”

“Why does it have to be me?”

“Whose fault is it that the pizza guy isn’t on Seokmin’s doorstep right now?”

Mingyu huffs, clearly having run out of retorts. He’s quick to admit defeat, pushing himself off the couch and adjusting the hoodie that’s ridden up his torso. You watch his every move, ignoring Minghao’s gaze.

Just as he begins searching for his car keys, Minghao pipes up, “You shouldn’t go alone, though.”

Mingyu frowns. “Huh? Why not?”

“Because you’re clumsy and you’ll drop something.”

“Can’t you guys put some faith in me—?”

“Y/N could go with you.”

Mingyu closes his mouth, trapping any more complaints behind his teeth. You stare at Minghao like a deer caught in headlights.

Vernon is the first to protest, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I don’t—”

“Mingyu’s clumsy and he’ll drop something,” Minghao repeats impatiently. He shares a glance with Seokmin, who seems to understand Minghao’s intentions in milliseconds.

“Yeah, and we can’t let Y/N go by themselves because the last time they drove they ran over my mailbox.”

You squawk in protest. “That was when I was sixteen, I—”

“And I’ve feared you every time you’ve gotten behind a wheel ever since,” Seokmin says. He swiftly dodges Seungkwan’s questioning nudge and Chan’s panic, giving you the biggest smile he can muster before letting his eyes land back on Minghao.

Minghao looks at you, apologetic and stern all at once. “The ride will only be, like, ten minutes. Five minutes there and back,” he shrugs, turning away to face the TV. “You’re both adults, you’ll be fine.”

You think you might strangle them.

“Okay,” Mingyu says from behind you. You look at him, he stares back. “We’ll be okay. Right?”

He’s offering you one last final chance to back out. Your fingers twitch at your side before you gulp, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

You’re shoved out the door before you can even blink, wearing Seokmin’s old Crocs instead of the sneakers you had arrived with (“These are faster to put on, make haste, make haste! Get out of here, I want my pizza!”). You sink further and further into the passenger seat as Mingyu pulls out of the driveway, trying your best to focus on anything besides him.

But it proves to be impossible. The air freshener is the same as it was all those years ago, the same cheap dog bobblehead is on the dashboard, the pack of gum he’s left in the cupholder is the same one he used to buy in bulk at the supermarket. Nothing in here has changed, as if the vehicle is stuck in time, refusing to move forward despite all the years that have passed.

Mingyu must’ve noticed you staring at the gum because he picks it up and hands it to you in silent offering. You shake your head, and he puts it down.

The awkwardness might as well eat you whole.

The radio does nothing to ease the tension when the next song that plays is about heartbreak and being left behind while everyone moves on. Your sanity is hanging on by a thread that might snap if you’re in this car any longer.

In the corner of your eye, Mingyu opens his mouth to speak, but he decides against it when the pizza parlour comes into view. He swiftly parks by the front entrance, and once you get out, you notice that the car is centred perfectly between the lines.

You suppose he’s gotten better at driving over the years. The last time you were here, he’d parked so crookedly your stomach hurt from laughing.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, staring at you quizzically. “Are you good?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, slipping past him when he holds the door open for you. “Thanks.”

He walks up to the counter, saying his order number to the employee and nodding understandingly when she explains that one of the pizzas had been dropped on the floor and they’ve gone to remake the order. He returns to you — beside you, as if it has always been his rightful place — hands tucked into his pockets as he sways on the balls of his feet.

This must be some form of torture, you think. Minghao and Seokmin have done this in retaliation for every bad thing you’ve ever done to them.

(“Seokmin and I love you both,” Minghao confesses over the phone, face blurry due to your unpredictable wi-fi, “You know that, right?”

“I do.”

“And we really think you should talk to each other,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at your phone, you can tell he’s staring at you in that analytical way of his while you try to finish an assignment. “Maybe it’ll do you some good.”

You sigh. “Hao—”

“It’s been three months. Let him explain.”

“I did,” you hiss. “He was the one that left.”

Silence. You rub your temples.

When you finally look at Minghao, he’s remorseful. “Sorry,” he murmurs, flopping onto his bed and letting his camera pan up to the ceiling. You can no longer see his face, but you can hear the despair in his voice. “It’s just hard, being in the middle of this.”

“I’m not asking you to pick sides.”

“I know that,” he argues softly. “I just want everything to go back to normal.”)

You dig your nails into your skin as Mingyu begins humming to a song playing over the speakers. It’s one that they’ve been playing for years, a pop song that will have to be pried out of a radio host’s dead, cold hands.

It’s a song Mingyu despises.

(It’s so catchy, though, he used to tell you, ashamed. You need to save me from it).

When Daeshim had called you at the end of the semester, the first thing out of his lips was a question about your return. You had agreed with reluctance, and he said something about how long it’s been, how time heals all wounds, that nothing should hurt anymore.

But three years cannot erase a lifetime.

You foolishly thought it could. When you arrived, you pretended you didn’t see an old photo of him taped on your closet door. When you first saw him at the supermarket, you ignored the way his hand twitched to reach over to you. When he talked to you outside of that nightclub, you evaded the familiarity of his warmth like it was a virus.

You foolishly thought it was enough. You built a wall of indifference around yourself, but it had begun to chip away just as quickly as you constructed it. It was never foolproof. It was never made of stone, but of cards.

One glance from Mingyu and it all comes tumbling down.

“Minghao told me a few days ago that you wanted to talk,” Mingyu says once the song has ended.

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“Not yet, no.”

“Well,” he says, taking a step towards the counter when the employee calls out his order number, “whenever you’re ready to, I’m here.”

“Something’s wrong.”

He understands what you mean. You’re not referring to the TV that won’t play the movie or the takeout that tastes a little off. You look at him nervously, afraid to break the flimsy spell of calm he’s enchanted on everything he touches.

“Yeah,” he replies, gripping the armrest tightly.

You blink at him, waiting for something he won’t offer. For a moment, he thinks you might push, but you have never been one to do so; you have always believed that doing something like that only throws you down a road of hurt.

So, he shouldn’t be surprised when you eventually nod in defeat.

“Well,” you say with a smile reserved for strangers you can only pretend to care about, “if you need to talk about it, I’m here.”

Four friends occupy a small corner of the skatepark. One of them is on the ramps, appearing in the air to do a trick before disappearing from sight. Another is rolling down the concrete, hands stretched out to maintain balance.

Two sit in the shade, watching.

“Do you think they’ll talk soon?” one of them asks, a taller boy with light brown hair and a beauty mark near the apple of his cheek.

The other, dressed in all black despite the sweltering heat, runs a hand through his mullet. “I don’t know, Seokmin. Probably. Hopefully.”

“Do you think they’re mad at us for forcing them to get the pizza?”

“Yes.”

Seokmin snorts, but his amusement is short-lived. He continues to observe his friends as they stray further and further from each other. He catches the way they glance over their shoulders in concern.

“They’re stupid, aren’t they, Minghao?” he finally says. The boy beside him hums in agreement. “Were they always like this in high school?”

“I don’t think so,” Minghao replies. “If they were, I don’t know how I managed to survive.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“Hypocrite.”

Seokmin sticks his tongue out. Then, quietly, as if the other two friends will hear, he says, “Well, they need to hurry up and talk. I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he grumbles. “Maybe if I just told Y/N about it sooner, or pushed Mingyu—”

“Probably,” Minghao interrupts before Seokmin can concoct any more what-ifs from his brain. His stomach churns at the numerous possibilities he will never see. “But there’s nothing we can do it about it now.”

“Maybe things would be better if we did things differently.”

“Yeah, but the past is the past. Besides,” he sighs, watching one friend trip on his way towards them and the other struggle to stop themselves on the board, “this isn’t our problem to fix. I don’t think it ever was. We’ll just leave it to them.”

“You really think they’ll work it out?”

“God. I really hope so. It would put all of us out of our misery.”

Spring has long since bled into winter when you find yourself at the skatepark, wearing a sweater that was never yours with your heart dangling from its sleeve. It’s chilly at this hour of the morning when the world is quiet and your denial is prominent, and it gets even colder when your name falls from Mingyu’s lips and his touch is uncharacteristically icy against your skin.

You rip your wrist from his grasp and hurt flashes across his face before he takes a step back.

“I—” he gulps, “you shouldn’t run out like that.”

He purses his lips, and you notice how chapped they’ve gotten over the past few days. Everything about him has roughened up — it goes farther than his dry hands and the unruly state of his hair; he’s grown distant. He looks at you with a mixture of emotions you can’t explain, his words have are clipped, and you aren’t sure how long this behaviour would’ve gone on for if you hadn’t caught him signing up for classes at a university he never told you he was going to attend.

“You lied to me.”

He exhales shakily. “I know. I’m sorry, I—” he rubs a hand over his face because he doesn’t know what to say. Mingyu isn’t like this. People would kill to own even a sliver of his charisma; it’s so easy for him to talk himself out of things, but the words have died in his mouth before they even reached the tip of his tongue.

“You—You should’ve told me,” you stammer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mingyu has never felt this moronic before, standing before you and stretching his hand in your direction only to watch how, every time without fail, you take a step back as if any contact from him will result in third-degree burns.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “But you were already so worried about all of us growing apart after graduation, and I didn’t want to add onto that stress. So I kept putting it off, and I shouldn’t have, I know that, I just—” his face falls, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

It takes everything in him not to flinch when your anger flares. Your resolve is rotting away to dissolve into the morning air; he thinks, offhandedly, that the molecules of your decaying calm have collided once again and found purchase over his head. A cloud to loom over him, made up of your melancholy and his guilt.

“You didn’t want to hurt me,” you say incredulously, in a tone so hurt that Mingyu’s heart drops. “Well, look where we are now, Mingyu.”

He doesn’t like the position he’s put the both of you in. He doesn’t like how this conversation is tainting every happy memory he ever had at this skatepark. He wonders if he’ll see your hurt expression every time he closes his eyes.

This could’ve been avoided, he’s aware of that. Seokmin made sure to voice his disapproval every time they crossed paths, Minghao’s veil of indifference was slowly crumbling with each passing day, and Seungkwan — who made the mistake of being around when Mingyu let it slip that his post-graduation plans didn’t match yours — grew more nervous than all of them combined.

For as long as he can remember, everyone he knows has never done well with secrets. He’s always been a firm believer that they’re parasitic, the reason behind every downfall he’s ever had the displeasure of witnessing. But that was before he had a secret worth keeping.

(It does not matter if it’s worth it or not. At the end of the day, he was right all along. They are infectious, deadly little things).

Soon after he was born, it was common belief amongst townsfolk that he would change the world. It did not matter how; they would support him regardless. He thinks his entire being may as well have been made from diamonds with how he was created to be the star of something he never asked to be part of.

It’s exhausting.

The university you two had chosen at fifteen-years-old was perfect for you. When you took the virtual tours and exchanged messages with its students, you looked like you had stepped right out of a fairy tale. But it was two hours away from this town, so far yet so close to the very thing that’s been draining him of energy, and he quickly came to realize last summer that your dream school was the last thing he wanted.

But you would’ve followed him anywhere. If it weren’t for his, Minghao, and Seokmin’s insistence, you would’ve chosen to stay at home, because you never liked the idea of leaving everything behind.

That’s where you and he differ.

And he couldn’t take that from you.

Because you and him were always believed to be cut from the same cloth — model students, the perfect fit — but everything he touched tarnished and everything you touched turned to gold dust. He’s hidden behind an illusion all his life, but he knows for a fact that you’re meant to go above and beyond every expectation that’s ever been set for you.

Who is he to get in the way of that?

(He’s sure the only thing that’s setting you back is him. It has always been him. It’s only a matter of time before you realize it, too).

“I love you,” he confesses suddenly, startling you to your core. “And I’m so sorry.”

You look at him warily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I fucked up,” he says.

“Yeah, you did.”

“But…” he trails off. When your eyes meet, something ignites inside of you.

(You have always known him better than any of them ever could).

“Mingyu—”

“Maybe it’s for the best if we—”

“Mingyu.”

He closes his eyes and hopes it’s enough to push the tears back. “I love you,” he says again, but his lips are quivering, and a sob threatens to escape the confines of his throat. “I love you so much that it physically hurt to do that to you, but it was for the better—”

Disbelief engulfs you in an instant, and you take a spontaneous step towards him in your surprise. “You’re not making a lot of sense right now,” you say, frantic, “I’m still really fucking mad at you, but we can talk this out, because I have no idea what you’re—”

“Just listen to me, Y/N, I don’t think—”

“You listen to me, because—”

“You deserve so much better than this, don’t you know that?” he snaps, shrinking into himself seconds later. His voice shakes with frustration. This hurts him beyond your imagination, but he’d do anything for you, even if it ends with him sporting wounds that will never heal. “And I’m holding you back, and I— I can’t do that to you. Not anymore.”

A sob melts into your words before you can stop it. “So you think the best way to fix that is to move across the country?”

“There were better ways to go about it,” he admits. “Ways that wouldn’t have ended like this, but I stand by what I said, Y/N.”

“Don’t do this, Mingyu. You don’t get to—” you stutter, inhaling hastily to regain your composure before looking him through your teary vision, “—you don’t get to break up with me over something as stupid as this.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he says it like a mantra, like it’s engraved into his brain and there’s no use trying to rid him of it.

“You don’t get to decide that!” you exclaim. “And even if that was true, it doesn’t matter to me. We love each other, Mingyu, isn’t that enough?”

You go to cup his face. This time, it’s he who takes a step back, and his heart screeches in pain at the sight of your crestfallen face.

“Maybe if I—” he runs a hand through his hair and tugs at the strands, forcing himself to continue, “Maybe if I loved you less, I’d let myself be selfish. But that’s not the case. That’s never been the case.”

That day you do not leave the skatepark with a scrape on your knee or a new bruise on your shins. But you don’t leave unscathed, either.

Your heart has been ripped from your chest, and Kim Mingyu carries the remnants of it with him.

Mingyu always liked people-watching.

He’d tell you it was nice to be on the other side of the microscope; to observe, not be observed. On the trips out of town, he’d sit anywhere that was bustling with people and make up stories about anyone who caught his eye: he’s cheating on his wife with his high school sweetheart, or she’s talking to her estranged cousin and she’s threatening to get a restraining order, or that little boy was meant to be a twin but he ate his sibling in the womb.

“That guy’s still in love with his ex-girlfriend even though they broke up a decade ago,” Mingyu says, subtly nodding towards a man supervising his child on the ramps.

The snort that escapes you dents the discomfort hanging in the air. “He reached out to her on Facebook, and it turns out she’s coming to visit.”

“They’re going to meet in the city. He told his wife he has work stuff.”

“His wife’s suspicious. She’s definitely hiring a PI.”

“But the PI sucks, he’s a fake and a scammer. He ends up tailing the wrong guy.”

“And the wife spent good money on him, too.”

“But she doesn’t really care since she paid the investigator using her husband’s money.”

“Good for her! It’s what he deserves for cheating.”

You smile, pressing your legs against your chest as you watch the kid soar through the park on her rollerskates. Her laughter’s loud, and you allow it to ring in your ears to momentarily distract yourself from Mingyu.

It’s overwhelming being here next to him. You’ve been here multiple times since you’ve come home, but the nostalgia and ache of watching him from afar does not compare to what you feel now that he’s by your side, sitting stiff on the park bench with his hands clasped in his lap. The dull throb in your chest becomes more prominent when he glances and catches your eye, hiding his yearning beneath a thin veil of indifference.

You turn away, and that’s enough for him to adorn the last bit of confidence he has. “Why’d you call me here?”

Resting your cheek against your knee, you murmur, “You know why I called you here.”

It does not matter that he’s known you almost as long as you’ve been alive — a room full of newborns would realize that he’s here because you want an explanation.

Closure really would be nice.

“Okay,” he breathes. “Ask me anything.”

When you slipped out of your house this morning, full of anticipation, you thought that it’d be hard for you to find the words. But you’ve stuffed the curiosity down your throat long enough. For years, all you could feel was a weight on your esophagus; the air you’ve been inhaling and expelling is nothing if not tainted with heartbreak, and you crave the feeling of fresh air again — something that’s free from the insecurities and the anguish and everything in between.

“Back then, did you tell Minghao we fought?” you ask. “Because he seems to think that we did. Every time he called me that’s all he would ask. Have you and Mingyu stopped fighting?”

He tilts his head. “Would you not say that was a fight?”

“Well, no,” you reply. “You just ended it, and I was trying to get you not to.”

Mingyu flinches but he’s quick to recover. “Nothing could’ve changed my mind back then.”

“Why?” you demand, unable to hide your despair.

Mingyu finally looks at you without tearing his gaze away. He’s exhausted, and you aren’t sure if it’s because of how early it is or if he’s just as drained from all of this as you are. The limbo between forgiveness and disdain was never made for the weak.

“Listen, I—”

“You told me you didn’t deserve me,” you say, “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I thought I could’ve been enough for you — I tried to be. But you always had everything planned out and I didn’t, I was living with a façade and you weren’t, and I— I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

Clenching your jaw, you say, “So, you moved.”

“I loved you,” he says quickly before you have the chance to ask him otherwise. “That was never the problem. I was scared. I guess part of me wanted to let go while you still thought I was worth it.”

“Don’t say that, Mingyu.”

“I know, I know,” he replies. “I’m working on the self-worth. It’s hard to come by.”

It hits you then, like you’re standing in the ocean as a large wave of water looms over your figure. You used to watch as everyone fawned over Mingyu as if he was untouchable, a divinity amongst men. You used to watch and lust for the days where you would turn out to be exactly the person he deserved to love.

But while Mingyu ached to be the person everyone made him out to be, you saw past your own desires and those who desired him. Through all that was carefully crafted, you saw him for who he truly was.

And you loved every inch of him. So much so that you’re convinced you’ll never be able to feel this way for anybody else.

“For what it’s worth,” you say, “back then, you were it for me. I would’ve loved you regardless.”

His gaze softens and, for a moment, sitting next to you is the same boy from all those years ago, who accepted your proposal for a date, who asked you to prom, who tattooed eight letters into your skin before slumber took you over.

“If we…” he begins carefully, “If I did things differently, do you think we could’ve made it?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d like to think that we would’ve,” you nudge his shoulder in hopes that being playful will lighten the mood. “But none of that matters. We’re here now, and we talked.”

“We talked,” he nods. “We used to be terrible at that.”

“Not the best at communication, sure,” you smile softly. “But at least we fixed it. Better late than never.”

He bites the inside of his cheek to stop his own smile from growing any larger. “Better late than never.”

The sun envelopes you in a warm hug the moment you sit down, a companion in the serene summer’s day. Sand sticks to your skin, adhered to it by the sweat, clinging to you as if you’re its last hope to live.

The tranquility is interrupted by a screech, and you bet with closed eyes that it’s either Mingyu, who left a while back to get some ice cream and probably dropped it, or Chan, who decided to build a sandcastle close to the ocean despite the various protests he received in response.

You crack an eye open just as the water retreats from the shore. Chan stands before his unfinished monstrosity, staring in distress, while Vernon gives him a look as if to say I told you so.

From where he lies beside you, Seokmin announces, “If it makes you feel any better, it was a little ugly.”

“You said five minutes ago that it was good!”

“I was lying to you.”

“Yeah,” Seungkwan agrees, toeing the area where the castle once resided. “The moat was fucked up, too.”

“It was a moat.”

“And yet you fucked it up.”

Chan gives them an unsavoury gesture before instructing both Vernon and Seungkwan to help him make another. Reluctant but compliant, they take the pails you’d bought last minute at the dollar store and settle themselves farther away from the shore.

Seokmin salutes them for good luck before glancing at his phone. “Is Mingyu still at the boardwalk?"

Minghao hums. “Yeah, the line for ice cream’s probably long.”

“Okay, good,” Seokmin says before poking your shoulder aggressively, ignoring your complaints about how easily you bruise. “Gives me time to interrogate you.”

“Interrogate me?” you ask incredulously. “About what?”

He raises his hand, and you prepare yourself for the worst. It’s over for you the moment Seokmin begins listing things off his fingers. “You willingly sat in the backseat with Mingyu on the way here, you willingly talked to him for the entire car ride, and you willingly offered to go with him to get ice cream.”

“Hardly things to interrogate me over.”

“Hardly things to interrogate me over,” he mimics. “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you guys dating again?”

“What?”

“Ah. Have you two eloped?”

Minghao snorts as he opens the cap to his sunscreen. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re just engaged.”

Seokmin places a hand on his chest. “Oh, thank goodness—”

“Are you guys insane?” you shriek, briefly scanning the beach in hopes nobody heard your friends’ remarks. “We just talked yesterday.”

“Oh,” Minghao muses, throwing the sunscreen over your head for Seokmin to catch. “And that’s it?”

“That’s it,” you confirm. “What else would there be?”

Minghao shrugs as he rubs the cream onto his arms. “Nothing, I guess.”

A noise escapes Seokmin’s throat, something akin to disagreement. You whip your head to face him as he raises his hands up in defence. “What is it?” you ask him.

“I just…” he waves his hand in the air with a small pout on his lips. “I’m confused, I guess. Everything’s resolved now? Just like that? We’re all friends again?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re friends,” you huff. “I don’t know what we are, either. But we have the rest of the summer to figure that out, so why the rush?”

Seokmin leans back on his elbows. “Well, whatever the two of you are, I’m glad you two talked, it was long overdue.”

Minghao nods in agreement.

From a few feet away, Seungkwan’s voice is loud amongst the waves crashing onto shore, the families relaxing under beach umbrellas, and the seagulls soaring through the sky. “Mingyu!” he exclaims in disbelief. “You didn’t drop any!”

You can’t catch a good glimpse of him without craning your neck, but his voice alone is enough to quicken your heartbeat. “Yeah, I know,” you hear him say, “I told you guys I’m not completely hopeless. Seven Drumsticks, all in perfect condition. Vernon, did you want the original flavour?”

It only takes a couple moments before he’s in your line of sight, standing in front of you with the sun’s blinding rays crowning his head like a halo. He grins, letting his sunglasses slip down his nose so you can see his eyes, and hands you a cone.

“Thanks,” you say.

His grin widens, just a little. “Don’t mention it. Hao, which one do you want?”

Once everyone’s finished their ice cream (and after a long debate that occurred due to Chan innocently asking for advice on what to do about his roommates back at his on-campus apartment), Seungkwan manages to find a beach volleyball court that’s unoccupied and persuades everyone to participate.

One set to ten points turns into the best out of three, and when your team begins to buckle under the pressure, Seungkwan suggests something with a sinister grin. “Losing team has to get buried under the sand and stay there for fifteen minutes.”

“Ten,” Seokmin negotiates.

“Twelve.”

“Five.”

Seungkwan squints. “You can’t go lower, that’s not how a negotiation works.”

“One person from the losing team gets buried under the sand for ten minutes and has to pay for dinner,” Chan says.

Seungkwan snaps his fingers before pointing to him. “Deal.”

It all ends, as expected, with Seungkwan’s team victorious. The three boys on the other side of the net exchange high-fives before returning to you and your sullen teammates with cocky grins. Minghao urges all of you to play a game of rock, paper, scissors to decide the true loser of today, and though you feigned indifference when you fumbled the last ball, the mask speedily cracks when the last two people left is you and Mingyu.

(“A duel between lovers,” Chan sighs dramatically. Minghao pinches his side).

Your eyes meet his, and something flickers in his expression. Gone too quick for you to decipher, but something in the back of your mind tells you that you should know exactly what he’s about to do.

Seokmin booms, “Rock, paper, scissors!”

You ball your hand into a fist and Mingyu curls his fingers into his palm except for two.

“Scissors beats rock,” Vernon slaps him on the back sympathetically before pointing at the ground. “Get comfortable, dude.”

With the amount of eagerness your friends exhibit, Mingyu is buried in minutes, stiff under the copious warm dust he’s under. Seokmin, with sand sticking to his hands, ruffles Mingyu’s hair and laughs when the latter crinkles his nose in disgust. Taking his sunglasses from his bag, you place them on the bridge of nose and brush off anything that got on his face.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Don’t mention it,” you echo. “I’m sure you’ll have fun here.”

He kisses his teeth in annoyance. “Oh, I bet. Once I get out of here, I’m gonna have tan lines on my collarbone.”

You smile. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can stay here with you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“You’re here for ten minutes by yourself and the reason we lost is because of me,” you say, wincing at the memory of Seokmin and Chan shouting for you to retrieve the ball despite it being too far away for you to save. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs. “Since I let you win rock, paper, scissors.”

You blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

“You always choose rock.”

“What? Then why’d you choose scissors?”

Mingyu attempts to shrug and scowls when he can’t.

You flick his forehead. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I wanted to.”

“Of course,” you snicker. “And how are you finding it underneath all that sand?”

He doesn’t even bother to pretend to be nonchalant. “Oh, it’s the worst. It’s slightly better with you here, though.”

You turn to look at the sea. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he pouts. “I thought we were going to tell each other stuff from now on. You know, communicate better.”

“Well, still.”

“I’m just saying what I’m thinking!”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He laughs, loud and boisterous and it heals something in your very being. There’s a mirth in his eyes you haven’t seen in a long time, and you yearn to hear it again. Mingyu has always been beautiful, but he’s even more so when he’s happy, a boy so golden he could rival the sun and the stars in its beauty.

And he would win, you think.

(What you don’t know is that Mingyu thinks the same of you. Many things have changed, but one thing that never will is how much you shine. The sky and all its confidants, try as they might, would never rid you of your luster. To him, they’ll never prevail).

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question.

He smiles. “No reason.”

Considering the fact that you spent a good part of your childhood running around the mall and giving into the urge of buying things you’ll never need, it’s a surprise that you forgot just how busy it gets during the summer.

(“Wow,” Mingyu had said. “You avoid me and this town for three years and suddenly you forget everything about it?”)

(He, along with everyone you’ve grown up with, will never let you live this down).

It’s a miracle the four of you even found somewhere to sit in the food court — a booth, no less. Part of you wonders if Seokmin sweet-talked a family into giving up this table for him, and you feel only a sliver of pity for whoever has to eat in an area that’s affected by the vibrant rays of the sun.

Once Minghao and Seokmin have returned from buying their food, they send you and Mingyu off to get your lunch with the promise that they’ll wait for you both before they start eating. Mingyu walks ahead, careful not to trip over anyone as he observes the signs of each food joint you pass, and glances over his shoulder to make sure you haven’t gotten lost in the crowd amid his indecision.

“What are you getting?” he asks once the two of you can hear each other above the many mallgoers.

“Don’t know. Pad Thai, maybe.”

“Nice. I was thinking getting a burger at Burger King, but…” he gestures towards the long line and winces. “I don’t have the patience for that.”

“So?”

“So, what?”

“What are you going to eat then?”

“Oh,” Mingyu frowns before shrugging nonchalantly. “Pad Thai it is, then. I think that has the shortest line.”

“Really? When we passed by KFC it didn’t look too bad—”

Mingyu turns, pointing to the Thai place across from you. “Pad Thai! Let’s go before the line gets any longer,” he proclaims, wrapping a hand around your elbow and gently tugging you towards the smell of stir-fry.

It’s easy to fall back into rhythm with Mingyu — so much so that it scares you, just a little. While you assumed it wouldn’t have been too weird once the barrier of the old relationship was removed, you hadn’t thought it would’ve been this comfortable. You assumed everything would be stilted for a short period before the puzzle pieces returned to their places, but this was unpredictable. This is familiar (everything with Mingyu always is); more familiar than riding a bike, or the scar on your knee, or your mom’s tendency to hover over you now that you’ve returned.

His skin against yours all while offering to lend you his jacket and pay for your food could be seen as simple acts of friendship — and if it were anybody else, you would agree, but your ties with each other, since the beginning of time, have regularly toed the line of romantic. It is a fact you cannot deny, and trying to do so would be like saying the sky is green or oxygen isn’t a requirement for survival.

The void in your chest used to be in the shape of him — freshly eighteen and brought down by his expectations along with everybody else’s — and you have tried other remedies to heal it: avoidance, sinking into other people’s sheets, tossing every physical memory you have of him in a box that you never ended up donating.

Who knew that the void would be filled by the same boy who caused it? Only this time, he’s standing in front of you, a little taller, sporting a different haircut, and learning how to live on his own terms.

“Fuck,” he says as he digs through his wallet. “I think I don’t have any cash to pay with. Man, I really didn’t want to use my credit card today.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I’ll pay. You already gave me your jacket even though I said you didn’t have to.”

“You were cold,” he argues. “If you didn’t want me to give it to you, then maybe don’t get cold next time.”

You scoff. “Well, tell whoever’s managing the A/C to turn it down. It’s like stepping into a freezer in here.”

Mingyu mutters — something along the lines of so dramatic — before he shifts the position of his open wallet in his hands and continues digging for bills that aren’t there. What is there, however, is a photo all too familiar.

You place a hand on his wrist to stop him from moving. “Hey, is that a picture of me?”

Mingyu freezes. Then, he pulls away from your grip. “No.”

“Okay. Then who was it?”

You stare at each other for a beat too long, interrupted by someone asking if you can move up the line, and it’s only then that Mingyu turns away, bashful, and murmuring, “Okay, fine. It’s you.”

You try not to let the giddiness get to you. “And why, exactly, do you have a picture of me in there?”

“It’s not just you,” he lies. “Minghao and Seokmin are also in there.”

“No, I don’t think so,” you reply matter-of-factly. “I got a good glimpse, and I think it was just me.”

He tuts. “Believe what you want to believe.”

“I’m choosing to believe the truth.”

He sulks, taking another step towards the register. “You’re finding this too funny for my liking.”

“I’m not! I think it’s cute,” you object. “Why is it in there in the first place?”

“Maybe I just wanted to put it in there, it’s a good photo!”

“Of course.”

“You’re photogenic,” he adds. “Besides, what’s wrong with keeping a photo of my friend in my wallet?”

The question escapes you before you can think twice. “Is that what we are?”

Mingyu quietens, uncertain. Then, after rapidly fighting an internal battle, he says, “Before everything else, you’re my best friend.”

You nod because that’s the case for you, too. “But?”

His digs his teeth into his bottom lip before he opens his mouth, the answer on the tip of his tongue.

“I—”

“Next, please!”

Mingyu flinches, but it only takes a glance at the long line behind him before he’s grabbing his credit card. “C’mon,” he interlocks his pinky with yours. “Order what you want, it’s on me.”

“Mingyu—”

He gives you a smile. “It’s fine,” he assures quietly. “I want to.”

(In his wallet is a candid polaroid — a person on the beach, laughing at a joke made by someone who hasn’t been photographed. The picture has no crinkles, either because it’s deeply cherished or because it’s new — maybe both is the case.

It replaces an older photo, one that’s years old, taken while he was in high school of the same person. Still candid, still radiant, still laughing. He’s treasured it for years, but he decides it’s time to relocate it. Maybe when he gets back to his apartment, he’ll put it on his fridge. It was looking a little empty, anyway).

Mingyu doesn’t particularly like it here. It brings up old feelings he’s working to retire as well as a medley of insecurities and unease.

But he would be lying if he said that the bad was the only thing this town has to offer.

The skatepark brings comfort, a corner of the world where freedom comes from touching the sky in the seconds his board lifts from the ground, a playground of cement and ramps and splintered benches found under trees that have been alive far longer than he has. It comes from his friends’ homes; Seungkwan’s spacious backyard and Seokmin’s living room where drink rings litter the coffee table as a consequence of never using the coasters.

It comes from the people. It comes from his family, who hugs him tight and listens to every concern he has under the sun. It comes from his friends, a group of rambunctious people who he has too many inside jokes with, and who drag him into shenanigans he has no option of backing out of.

It comes from you. Comfort always comes from you.

From where he stands in the corner, he watches you scour the karaoke song book, protesting all of Chan’s suggestions before entering a number onto the TV. Then you squint at the lyrics on the screen before you begin singing.

The others in the living room are in awe, captivated despite your inability to hold a note. Your gleeful smile makes up for what you lack in the singing department, and Mingyu supposes he’s no different than everybody else when you meet his eyes in the crowd and his palms begin to sweat. You hold his gaze for far too long, causing you to lose your spot in the song, and you sheepishly turn away before trying to make up for your mistakes.

He stays until the end, the loudest to clap despite your score being nothing exciting (it’s exciting to him, and that’s all that matters), and raises his hand in greeting with a silent promise to see you later when you’re pulled into a conversation with someone you used to play badminton with.

He ducks into the kitchen before he’s forced to engage in more small talk with another person. His footsteps quicken along with his growing desire to grab another beer, hidden behind the soda cans Seungkwan shoved inside for the party.

(Mingyu doesn’t entirely know what or who this party is for. He only recalls the texts between him and Minghao three days prior:

hao 👨‍🎨 > party at seungkwan’s on saturday

mingyu > not coming

hao 👨‍🎨 > 😐 ok ur loss > y/n is tho

mingyu > … i’ll bring my mom’s brownies).

Mingyu opens the can the moment it’s in his hands, relishing in the temporary sound of fizzing before taking a sip. The only straggler in the kitchen is him; everyone gathered in the living room the moment Seungkwan turned the karaoke machine on. He situates himself so he can see just through the threshold, keeping an eye out for the moment you’re free so he can pull you aside to talk.

About what, he doesn’t know. Winging it has always been his thing.

“Yo, Mingyu,” Seokmin greets as he makes his way to the fridge. “What are you doing in here?”

“Hiding.”

“It’s nice to know some things haven’t changed,” Seokmin quips, digging through the variety of drinks, “you’re still a loser.”

“You love me.”

“Oh, of course, that was never in question. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re a loser.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Sprite for me, beer for Vernon.” He stands to his full height and cranes his neck to look at Mingyu around the fridge door. “Was that the last of it?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Seokmin doesn’t look that defeated when he grabs two cans of Sprite. “Maybe that’s for the best. He’s drunk enough as it is.” Off Mingyu’s confusion, Seokmin adds, “I know, he never gets wasted, but he’s on the waitlist for a screenwriting class, so he’s upset beyond repair.”

“And he’s always saying everyone else is more dramatic than he is.”

“Right? He’s only second on the waitlist, too.”

Mingyu laughs but his eyes involuntarily flicker back to the door to see if you’re still talking to other people. He frowns when he notices you’ve disappeared from where he spotted you last, and he debates taking out his phone and texting you to ask where you are.

Seokmin kisses his teeth. “Are you sure you want to stay in here by yourself? Y/N probably wants to talk to you.”

“They’re talking to other people. I’m fine waiting it out.”

Seokmin looks like he’s going to oppose Mingyu’s decisions, but he opts for shrugging instead. “Alright, if you say so. Don’t wait too long, though.”

“I won’t,” Mingyu promises. Seokmin begins his trek back to the living room, one soda dangling from each hand, when Mingyu suddenly calls out, “Hey, wait.”

Seokmin falters awkwardly in his step before turning around with furrowed eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“I, uh,” Mingyu rubs his neck, wincing. “I don’t think I ever apologized.”

The confusion on Seokmin’s face is wiped away to be replaced with triumph. He points an accusatory finger at his friend while his voice echoes in the four walls of the Boo kitchen. “I knew it! You did steal my beanie, you liar, the next time I visit you, I’m taking it back, and it better be in good condition! I can’t believe you took it with you across the country, that’s so fucked up—”

“Huh? No, what?” Mingyu says in disbelief. “For the last time, I didn’t steal your beanie—”

“Okay, sure, then who was it, then?”

“I don’t know!”

“Then what are you apologizing for?”

“For not listening to you!” Mingyu exclaims. “Back then, you told me to tell Y/N the truth and I didn’t listen when I should have. If I did, you and Hao wouldn’t have been put in the middle of everything.”

“Oh,” Seokmin makes a face and waves him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“You made a mistake. A stupid one, yeah, and I’m probably never going to let you live it down, but,” he smiles gently, “we’re okay now. Just focus on what you’ll do about… you know.”

“…What?”

“You know,” Seokmin parrots. “Y/N. I mean, you still love them, don’t you?”

Without hesitation, Mingyu responds, “Well, no fucking shit.”

Seokmin makes a noise of satisfaction before turning on his heel. Over his shoulder, he singsongs, “Don’t fuck anything up!”

Mingyu scoffs. “I won’t!”

With each passing minute, the night gets livelier, and Mingyu ends up re-entering the living room and talking to other people despite his internal insistence not to. It keeps him busy, momentarily distracting him from the way his heartrate spikes at the thought of speaking to you tonight.

In the middle of his conversation with a former basketball teammate, a microphone ends up in his hands, and before he can blink, he’s pushed in front of the TV. It takes him a moment too long before he realizes that he’s been forced to sing a duet with you.

(Behind the couch, Minghao snorts at Seokmin’s devilish grin.

“I thought I told you to stay out of it.”

“I am!” Seokmin says, “I’m only giving them a slight push in the right direction!”)

The timer begins counting down.

Five.

“Just so you know,” you begin, “Seungkwan and Chan are going after us. We have to score as high as possible.”

Four.

“I don’t think we can manage that, to be honest.”

Three.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re great at singing, so you can make up for how bad I am.”

Two.

“I don’t—”

One.

“Believe in yourself, Mingyu.”

You bring the microphone up to your lips and begin to sing, and he can only follow your movements.

It takes an unfathomable amount of willpower to stop himself from staring at you for the song’s entirety. He clenches his fist as he recites the lyrics, but when it gets to the bridge and it’s your turn to take the reins, Mingyu lets his guard down, his hand falling limply to his side as you laugh through your part.

He has never been an expert in love — few of the decisions he’s made in the name of it have seldom ended well — and when he was younger, the only thing he ever knew regarding it was you. Before, he thought that wouldn’t have been enough, that in order to be the person you deserved, he had to know more.

However, he’s older now, and things change with time.

You glance at him and the butterfly in his stomach rapidly flaps its wings.

(Other things don’t).

He doesn’t even know the song’s ended until arms wrap around his neck. He stumbles backwards before he forces himself to find his footing so he can properly return your excited hug. Mingyu pays no mind to the score flashing onscreen, nor the claps coming from everyone else; all he can smell is your shampoo, he feels your breath on his skin, and that is much more important than a karaoke score ever will be.

Seungkwan says, “That’s not even a good score.”

You loosen your grip around Mingyu so you can look at Seungkwan, and he immediately yearns for more. “Be quiet, this is the best I’ve gotten all night,” you retort. You turn to face Mingyu again, shaking him by the shoulders. “We did good! I told you to believe in yourself!”

Before he can reply, you’re pulled apart by Chan, who’s itching to take his turn. He rips the mics from his and your hands, and you slip from Mingyu’s fingers once again when Vernon asks you if you can help him look for another can of beer.

He exhales in defeat, accepts Chan shooing him away with grace, and slips outside.

He leans over the porch railing, staring at the watercolour sky, a mixture of pink and orange and yellow.

Mingyu hangs his head, wondering just how many more times you’ll get whisked away before he even has a chance to utter a word. He prefers smaller gatherings, because at least then he’d be able to talk to you with ease.

He’s not quite sure how many more times he’ll be able to stand by and watch you go before he loses his mind.

Behind him, the door slides open, and he assumes it’s Seokmin telling him to get a move on. But the footsteps sound different than his friend’s, and he immediately perks up when a familiar scent reaches his nose.

“Hey.”

Your frame enters his periphery, your university jacket hanging on your shoulders with the sleeves covering your hands.

Mingyu straightens. “Hi.”

You settle beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and Mingyu immediately relaxes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, “what makes you think I’m not?”

“You’ve been hiding from everyone since the night began,” you answer. “You don’t wanna be here, huh?”

“Of course I want to be here.” You raise an eyebrow at his lie. “Okay, fine, I don’t really want to be here.”

“Then why’d you come?”

“…I thought it would’ve been fun.”

“Really?” you snort. “Do you even know what this party is for?”

“Well… no.”

He expects you to roll your eyes, but instead you sigh in relief. “Okay, that makes me feel better, because I don’t either.”

“Well, I only came because Minghao told me you’d be coming,” he confesses.

You tilt your head in confusion. “I only came because Seokmin told me you’d be coming.”

He furrows his eyebrows and spares a glance through the glass doors at his friends. “…Huh.”

You huff, following his gaze. “I swear they always have their nose in our business.”

Mingyu looks back at you. “You have to admit, though, they’re pretty good at luring us into parties we don’t want to attend,” he smirks good-naturedly. “Who knew you still had a soft spot for me?”

Turning away from him, flustered, you grumble, “Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t come here because you wanted to see me.”

“I’m not!” he proclaims. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I make it pretty obvious that I like seeing you.”

“You’re so cheesy.”

“Only for you.”

You lightly punch his arm when the laughs that escape his lips grow louder. “I thought I told you that you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he hums. “I mean what I say, Y/N.”

“I’m not saying you don’t, it’s just…” you place your arms on the railing, leaning forward to avoid eye contact, “It’s confusing, that’s all.”

Mingyu faces you while you face away, watches how you stare at the setting sun instead of him, and his heart clenches. When you went your separate ways, he craved to be near you again, but even next to him, you still feel so far away.

(In hindsight, maybe he should’ve planned out how to go about this beforehand).

“You used to say stuff like that all the time,” you explain. “You know, before, uh—”

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

A million scenarios flash through his mind; different results depending on what he says next. He’s typically so good at saying the right thing — his words got him out of trouble and charmed his neighbours — but he’s found that his voice fails him whenever he needs it the most. When he tried to muster the courage to tell you about everything, he was never able to, and he gave into the false reassurances his mind offered that all would be alright in the end.

But none of that matters, you had said. We’re here now.

“You know what I never understood?” you ask.

“What?”

“You don’t like it here. Not a lot, anyway,” you start, “so why did you keep coming back?”

“Well, my family’s here, you know. So are our friends,” he gulps. “And I thought you would be, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He nudges your elbow. “Can I ask you something?”

You chance a glance at him. “Sure, yeah.”

“What you said the other day,” he murmurs, unblinking, “about how I would’ve been it for you, has that changed?”

“Why are you asking?”

He bites the inside of his cheek as his cheeks begin to redden. “Do you really need me to say it?”

You frown. “Say what—?”

“I love you,” he blurts out. “And I know that might be kind of weird, since a lot’s changed since we last saw each other, but that’s the one thing I haven’t been able to shake. Not that— not that I ever wanted to— I just… I think it’s a part of me. Like I was born with it.”

You look at him, eyes glassy, unable to speak.

“But y’know what’s weirder?” he adds. “I’m pretty sure I’ll never get sick of it.”

It’s his turn to face away, turning towards the sun as you stare at the side of his face. The silence drenches the backyard like sudden, thunderous rainfall. For him, it’s unwelcome, and his eardrums echo with his confession.

He tries his best to hide his lovesickness, but the intensity of his longing prevents him from doing so. For the entire summer — perhaps for years, really — he’s been pushing it all down. He’s tired of it all. Of hiding, of pretending, of brushing off his esurient desire for you.

“It’s not weird,” you say, finally, saving him from his misery.

“Sorry?”

“You said it’s weird that you still love me,” you muse. “But I don’t think it is. It wouldn’t be fair of me to.”

His lips part. “What do you—?”

“Of course you’re it for me, Mingyu,” you tell him frustratedly. “You have been since the beginning of time. I don’t want you to go a day without believing it. I know what it’s like to live with you and to live without you, and I really prefer the first option.”

Mingyu’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits.

With quick movements, he inches closer to you, eyes flickering down to your lips before he asks, “Really?”

“What do you mean, really? Why would I—?”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupts, slowly moving his hands closer to your face. “Please?”

He’s sure the longing in your eyes is wild enough to rival his.

(What an odd turn of events, is it not? Despite being on opposite sides of the country, you used to believe there weren’t enough miles between you and Mingyu for you to heal properly. But now, with his lips hovering over yours, you’re beginning to think that he is not close enough).

You take his face into your hands, and you kiss him.

Mingyu stumbles, surprised by your fervor, but matches it with ease. His hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he moves to have his back against the railing. Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he surprises himself with a moan at just how much he’s missed it — your hands pulling at his locks, his lips against yours.

He used to pray for this.

When you pull away to catch your breath, he chases you, too dazed to acknowledge your amused mien. You go to peck his lips to soothe him, but he makes sure to hold you against him, his hunger far from satiated.

He stops himself for a moment, breath hot on your skin. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

You smile against his mouth. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all night.”

“I feel like you’ve been faking it.”

“I have not.”

“You definitely have. Skateboarding isn’t that hard.”

Mingyu throws his arm around you in defence. “Hey, give them a break, Minghao.”

“Yeah!” Seokmin pipes up, “Y/N was just terrible at it because they can’t balance at all.”

“You know,” you grunt, crossing your arms, “I thought you guys would be proud of me for finally managing to skate across the park without actually falling.”

“I’m proud of you,” Mingyu says, pecking the side of your head. “And I think that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, I can always count on you having my back,” you say, leaning further into him and pointedly glaring at the other two boys in front of you.

Seokmin waves you off. “Hey, I think this might be the first time ever you didn’t get injured at the skatepark.”

You go to protest before frowning. “…I think you’re right, actually. That’s so weird.”

Minghao snorts. “Maybe we should teach you some tricks then.”

You glance at Mingyu, and he seems to really be considering it. “Oh, absolutely not. Are you trying to kill me?”

“I’ll teach you the easy ones!” Mingyu begins, standing in front of you so he’s all you see. He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes them in reassurance. “You’re already a pro at just skating around, so this should be a piece of cake!”

��Mingyu,” you whine.

“Please,” he matches your tone. “I like teaching you stuff! It’ll be fun!” he lets go of your shoulders and rolls the board so it’s by your feet and offers you his hand as if you’ll need help getting on. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Your wariness is squashed the moment he flashes you a soothing smile.

You sigh. “You promise?”

He crosses his heart. “With everything that I have.”

Without a second thought, you place your hand in his.

He squeezes it immediately in a silent vow:

I’ll be here to catch you if you fall.

1K notes · View notes

helluvapoison · 4 months

Text

Lucifer Morningstar ABC’s (SFW)

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

♡ A. Affection ♡

How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

What doesn’t he do?

Lucifer looks at you with pure adoration. It’s like he wakes up and falls in love with you all over again throughout the day. Gifts, compliments, the kindest words, the cutesy nicknames— He will do anything and everything to show he loves you, but he specifically thrives when you tell him what you want or need from him.

“Luci, could you—“

He’s on it, rushing to your side before you’re finished speaking.

“Yes! Absolutely, of course, anything, what is it my light requires?”

Reward him with praise and a kiss, it’s like he’s back on top of the world

♡ B. Bad Habit ♡

What bad habits do they have?

Lucifer forgets there’s an entire realm that’s under his care, that other people exist outside of whatever project he’s hyper focused on. This takes a massive toll on his relationship with Charlie and, occasionally, you. You, however, live with Lucifer so it makes the patchwork easier.

He struggles to take care of himself and his pride refuses to let anyone help. He’ll work and work and work until he passes out standing up! His stomach will be howling, his eyes drooping, his body aching everywhere but he won’t feel it.

All of that goes hand in hand with how stubborn Luci can be. He won’t cater to his needs so when you barge in to, oh, y’know, keep him alive, he feels incredibly guilty

♡ C. Comfort ♡

Are they a good shoulder to cry on or do they get awkward?

You’ll want or need for nothing with Lucifer. A shoulder is the least he can do for you if you’re upset.

The issue is when he sees your tears, he panics— inwardly. A thousand questions rush through his mind. Are you hurt? He scans for signs of injury as he steps closer. Was someone cruel to you? His demonic features threaten to flare.

You can see the turmoil unfold and dissipate all at once. You need him, so there’s only one question he needs to ask. Slowly, Lucifer reaches up to cradle your face. He wipes away your tears with his thumb

“How can I fix this?”

♡ D. Domestic ♡

Are there plans for the future? Kids, a house, a dog or three?

He has a ring in his pocket at all times, just not the balls to pop the question. Lucifer wants it all, absolutely everything, as long as it’s with you and he’s known it for a long time

♡ E. Energy ♡

Would you have trouble keeping up with them?

Lucifer’s an introvert with an energy scale thats’s broken on both ends. He prefers his down time where he can tinker alone in his office. However, he’s extremely charming and a phenomenal conversationalist. He draws power from crowds and party-like settings, most likely because people are watching in awe of him.

Still, he’d happily choose a mundane dinner with you, Charlie and Vaggie over anything

♡ F. Fear ♡

What are they scared of when it comes to you?

He managed to go on after falling… and after Lilith, but both events took its toll on him. Lucifer doesn’t think he could survive losing you. The thought alone is paralyzing

♡ G. Gentle ♡

How gentle are they?

Painfully gentle when he needs to be but occasionally Lucifer forgets himself. He’s in a constant state of touch deprivation so when he gets desperate for it, he might be a tad overzealous.

Definitely tackled you to the ground in a hug before

♡ H. Honesty ♡

Do they have secrets they hide?

It’s not a secret but he is ashamed to admit he keeps his first wedding ring. He took it off after you two began going steady for a year or so. It felt disingenuous. He would hate to have you thinking he was attempting to make you a stand in for Lilith. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it

♡ I. I love you’s ♡

Who says it first?

It has to be you. Lucifer chokes on the words every time he feels them bubbling up in his chest. Literally, he starts coughing and excuses himself to get water. As adorable as you think it is, you bite the bullet and try to make it as natural as possible.

He was hunched over his desk, intensely focused on design plans an addition to Lu Lu World. You leaned around his chair, set down a warm mug filled with coffee, plant a kiss on his cheek aaaand,

“I’m off, Luci!” You press your lips to his forehead, “Have a nice day, I love you.”

“Aw, I love you too, sweetie!” He replied, not looking up from the papers.

Smiling to yourself, you turned and slowly began making your way to toward the door.

Three… two.. o— CRASH!

Lucifer was in front of you before you could blink with his arms and wings stretched out to stop you from taking another step. His eyes were wild and wide.

“You—You love me?” He sounded breathless.

“Of course I love you, Luci.”

He floundered between cackling and gasping for air for a good minute.

“I-I-I love you too! You know I love you, right?” He stammered out, gesturing between you both, “I love you so fucking much it’s insane!”

The day’s problems and errands are forgotten, lost amongst the hundred-thousand ‘I love you’s said.

“Say it again,” Lucifer asked dreamily, about to fall asleep in your arms that night.

“I love you, Lucifer.”

♡ J. Jealous ♡

Are they jealous? How do they handle it?

There’s an almost nonexistent line Lucifer walks between fine and incandescent demon. He forgot what jealousy felt for a good thousand years before you. Christ on a cracker, he fucking hates it!

He’ll do his very, very, very best not to blow up (metaphorically speaking… but also literally) but he slips, his rage is never aimed at you! It entirely depends on the situation, the person he’s dealing with, if he can get you back into his arms before the flames rise past his throat. Touching you again in some way is like cool relief.

Just hold his hand until you guys get home and he’ll apologize properly. Lucifer feels immensely guilty afterwards, he just can’t stand the idea of losing you

♡ K. Kiss ♡

What kind of kisser? Deep and passionate? Sloppy? Little pecks on the cheek?

Lucifer kisses you like he’ll never see you again. He wants to encase the moment in gold so it can never end, memorizing how your lips feel upon his

♡ L. Listen ♡

Do they hang off your every word or have selective hearing?

As long as you have his attention beforehand, you can rest assured he’s listened to every single word you’ve said. If you try and talk to him while he’s working, he might not realize it and you’ll have to start again

(Be patient with Lucifer. You can see he’s trying so hard to participate in conversations but through reminding himself to pay attention, he gets distracted and lost. He really is trying)

♡ M. Maintenance ♡

Are they high maintenance? Low? Do they need more skincare products than you?

“What can I say? I take pride in everything.”

You snort out a laugh, tousling his hair before leaving the bathroom.

Preens like a bird, always looking so dapper. When Lucifer has the energy to get take the necessary steps he has the works awaiting. Hair product, skincare routine, steam and press his white suit! It doesn’t always get done but he has it! You’ve helped him relearn to be ok with the bare minimum; sometimes brushing his hair and teeth, then putting on clothes is enough.

Extra: Lucifer’s idea for a date night is a spa treatment! Face masks, bubble baths, washing hair, painting nails and silk pajamas

♡ N. Newsworthy ♡

Are they shouting their love from the rooftops?

Considering he’s somewhat a celebrity figure and a recluse, his private life is very much sought after. Lucifer would love nothing more than to soar through the skies of Hell and have it echoing through every dirty alley how much he loves you, how proud he is to be with you!

But he won’t, especially not at first. Lucifer wants to keep you his secret for a while, something for himself. Charlie will be the first to know and everything can spiral from there for all he cares. Before any of that happens, though? Somehow all of Hell can tell

♡ O. Observant ♡

Do they watch you often or spare you glances?

Lucifer could watch you like a television, you’re so enchanting. He notices everything about you and stores the information for the future (as if him knowing you don’t like chives, or something, would ever be useful) Quirks, likes and dislikes, allergies— he knows it all!

Wanna quiz him? C’mon, quiz him! He’s confident he’ll get an A+

♡ P. Protection ♡

Are they overboard or level headed about protecting their loved ones?

Said with nothing but love, Lucifer is extremely overprotective. Without hesitation, he’d dive headfirst into battle, start and end wars for you or Charlie. When he says nothing will never ever ever happen to you, he fucking means it

♡ Q. Quid Pro Quo ♡

Is it 50/50? Give and get?

Yes and no

Is the relationship equal? Yes! If you give Lucifer something (be it affection, a gift, etc) does he feel undeserving and get the overwhelming need to overcompensate? Also yes!

♡ R. Reliable ♡

Can you count on them?

Undoubtedly.

♡ S. Scent ♡

Their perfume/cologne/natural musk

Lucifer has a few colognes that he wears on special occasions; ambery vanilla or vanilla bourbon. His soaps smell like crisp, red apples.

Naturally, he doesn’t smell like anything. He tells you it’s the “charcoal curse”. You wrap your arms around him and say he always smells like home, hoping that will lift his spirits

♡ T. Temper ♡

What is their temper like? Quick to anger? Long fuse? How bad do they lose it?

There’s been instances where there’s little to no build up on Lucifer’s fury but normally, he’s quite patient! Or at least very good at pretending to be unbothered. He doesn’t like losing control of any of his emotions but sometimes it’s inevitable. Scenarios as such usually, if not always, surround you and Charlie and if that happens… there’s destruction to clean up afterwards

♡ U. Unwind ♡

How do they relax?

Unfortunately for you, Lucifer doesn’t quite recall how to relax. Or when he should. Or why he should— hey, why should he?

He doesn’t realize tinkering with his ducks naturally lets off steam. Plus, sometimes he ends up more frustrated with the outcome and the relaxing process of making it was for naught

Toss him in the bath with some bubbles and his favorite ducks. Seriously. Perch outside the tub (or in it if you want!) and watch Luci melt back into the man you love. Call him your little duckling and he’s officially right as rain

♡ V. Value ♡

What’s their love language? What makes them feel special?

Acting • Gift Giving

Receiving • Words of affirmation

♡ W. Waves ♡

What will you two argue most about?

His health or his pessimism. You worry for his mental well being as much as you do his body, he needs to be able to take care of both. Lucifer’s cynical attitude is partly how he feels and partly him trying to convince himself of what he’s saying

The last time he dreamed too big didn’t end well at all but you remind him that shouldn’t stop him from having new dreams, even itty bitty ones! Not to mention his words have an effect on others as well and he forgets that

♡ X. Xylophone ♡

What’s their song?

Icarus - Bastille

Your hands protect the flames

From the wild winds around you

Icarus is flying too close to the sun

And Icarus' life, it has only just begun

It's just begun...

Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace

It scares me half to death

Look out to the future, but it tells you nothing

(bonus, From Eden - Hozier, no i don’t give a flying fuck if it’s on the nose)

♡ Y. Yearning ♡

How do they act when separated?

It’s incredibly hard to leave him behind. While he teases he’ll fall apart without you, Lucifer wears a brave face when it actually comes time for you to leave. His smile is tight, brows pinching upwards the farther you get. It’s torture not to reach out and steal you back, deny you from ever leaving him.

He was joking in an entirely serious way. If it wasn’t for your texts (Luci leaps for his phone with every buzz, just in case it’s you) he’d forget… just about everything. Doesn’t matter the time or day unless it’s regarding your returning date

♡ Z. Zzz ♡

Do they sleep a lot? Not enough? Night owl or early bird? Light sleeper or heavy?

The theme of the hour is you could be in store for almost anything!

Ranging anywhere from jumping into bed when you mention getting tired and passing out at his desk at an unholy hour, it really depends on the day and Lucifer’s mood. He could have nightmares and cling to you in his sleep, he could wake up at 3am with a brilliant idea that he just has to get done right then and there, he could stay snoring in your arms! Normally, as long as you don’t get out of bed he’ll stay asleep

Don’t even think about getting up to pee, he’ll illuminate the room with his big and pitiful crimson eyes

“Where’re you goin?” He mumbles, still partly asleep

“Be right back, duckie.”

Your lips linger on his forehead while his eyes droop shut once more. Give it a few seconds then carefully slide out of bed. Just be back before he wakes up!

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer morningstar imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon

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rockstarhaechan · 5 months

Note

hiii, first of all, i love the 2015 memes <3 don’t listen to haters :( second, can i request a bsf nct dream reaction to u piercing ur nipples 😩 if your comfortable of course ☺️

thank youuuu <3 love your blog 🫶🏻

nct dream reacting to you getting your nipples pierced

pairing: bestfriend!nct dream x fem!reader

warnings: slightly smutty, flashing tits, jeno & hyuck fwb kinda, teasing, pet names (babe, doll, love), mention of being drunk

note: fun fact, always wanted nipple piercings but ended up with one on my lip instead :D also this is rushed, so pls excuse me :((

mark:

bro is completely shocked at first when you pulled your shirt up, revealing your newly pierced nipples

“how do you like it?” you asked as you smiled at him before noticing that you just flashed your tits in front of your best friend.

“they look nice dude, but you could’ve warned me before flashing me” mark scratched his head, trying to look away from your cleavage but failing miserably.

“actually can i see them again?” he asked carefully trying not to cross any boundaries with you.

you lifted your shirt up once again walking closer to him so he would be able to see the piercings better.

mark started licking his lips the closer you got to him, basically wanting to touch your tits but he kept his hands to himself.

renjun:

renjun was completely out of order when he saw you pulling off your shirt in front of him.

“wtf are you doing y/n?” he screamed at you, gripping your arms as he pulled you towards him.

staring at renjun before starting to laugh badly wiggling outta his grip.

“i got my nipples pierced and wanted to show it to you, don’t be so mad about me pulling my shirt off, it’s not like you never wanted to see my tits” you mumbled the last part, remembering that you heard renjun talk to one of his friends about your tits once.

renjun crossed his arms looking you deeply into the eyes “you got what?” he questioned confused asking himself if he understood you correctly.

“i got my nipples pierced” was all you said before finally pulling your shirt up, revealing your two piercings.

he stared at your tits before laughing hysterically loud.

“one is way more down than the other one i can’t” he breathed out while laughing leaving you a little sad but you ended up laughing as well

jeno:

"hey what's that under your top?" he asked you pointing at the two indents on your top.

looking down at your clevage you saw the four metal balls of your new piercings smirking at jeno.

"you wanna see?" biting down on your bottom lip, already knowing his answer.

"show me, i wanna see babe" he came closer to you, hands resting on your waist, playing with the hem of your shirt.

slowly dragging your top up, eyes never leaving jeno's until your tits been revealed.

jeno's eyes shot down staring at you, practically licking his lips.

"damn babe, you're looking hot as fuck" he stated eyes still focused on your tits as one hand moved to cup your left tit slightly touching your piercing.

"be careful it still hurts" you playfully slapped his hand away, jeno just laughed a little before saying "thought you liked pain, at least thats what you say when we're fucking"

jaemin:

he looked at you with question marks above his head, knowing something is different.

"you got your nipples pierced? thought you wanted me to come with you when you get them done y/n" jaemin was a little shocked due to the fact that you did it all on your own, because you normally have a low pain tolerance.

you just nodded cheerfully admiring how jaemin looked down at you.

jaemin was worshipping your body, and you loved that feeling of being loved, but he’s only your best friend so nothing will ever happen between the two of you.

but jaemin had other thoughts, he thought about how beautiful you looked and that he wanted to touch you so badly, but the gentleman he is, he kept his fingers to himself.

“you look so pretty with those piercings love” he exclaimed as he gave you a kiss on the cheek, being proud of how beautiful you looked.

haechan:

oh as soon as he saw the metal in your nipples he went wild.

absolutely loved the way your piercings looked, probably drooling right now.

“fuck doll you make me so horny, just look at you” he said as he wiped his corners of his mouth.

“are you okay hyuck?” you laughed out looking at your best friend who’s about to lose his mind.

haechan couldn’t resist anymore and soon both his hands were cupping your tits.

“oh god this is gonna be so good once it’s healed, you have no idea what i’m gonna do to you then” he almost sounded like it was a threat to you but he still kept a little of his charm while saying that.

you knew haechan was a little too horny sometimes, but he never said something like that before, not even when the two of you were fucking while being drunk.

pressing your legs together slightly due to haechan’s touch, moaning quietly.

“i think we should stop here doll, let’s continue this once your tits are all healed up” he grinned as he slapped you on the ass before he walked away

chenle:

chenle didn’t even noticed your piercings at first, only when you pointed it out.

“look what i’ve got lele” you showed him the indents under your hoodie but he looked at you skeptical.

“tits? you’ve always had them or what do you mean” he was obviously confused about what you were talking.

quickly dragging your hoodie over your head, standing in front of him chest naked until he finally noticed it.

“oh you got your nipples pierced, looks good tho” he said sounding a little bored, so you nagged his shoulder to get his attention once again.

“only good? do you know how much pain that was?” being a little pissed at him but you couldn’t keep a small smile away from your face.

“well, if it hurt that much maybe you shouldn’t have gotten them done then” he walked away sassy throwing his hands in the air.

jisung:

jisung was completely out of order, not knowing where to keep his hands, eyes or his head when you pulled your shirt up.

“ji, what are you looking at? my tits are here” you wheezed as he was looking at the ceiling.

“i don’t wanna be rude and stare so i’m just looking up” he scratched his neck finally eying you.

mouth hanging wide open, visible drops of sweat forming on his face, eyes open and blinking fast.

“cat caught your tongue?” you teased him stepping closer to jisung as you took his hands.

“y-you look shitty, i m-mean pretty” he stuttered, face palming himself after what he just let out.

“oh ji, you’re so cute” you giggled before grabbing your shirt and putting it back on.

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tojisun · 5 months

Note

https://x.com/raspb3rry_angel/status/1738593739902255616?s=46&t=dQdAclJh9_X4qFDs38sC_Q

all i see in this gif is price and im losing itshxjdjsjsh OHMYGODDD

btw i love ur work sm!!!

OH U GOT ME GAGGED W THIS ONE HELLO - gif p link

no yea thats price 100%!! im actually tearing down the walls and screaming!!!

!! smut - minors dni; discussions of bondage/choking; D/s; unedited :>

john was the one who asked if it was alright to do it. it being him choking you.

you blinked up at him in shock, minute tremors racking your body as images flashed before your mind: you, bound and helpless, and john, looming over you with his hand wrapped around your neck. because that had been the natural assumption – john’s beautiful hands, aged and scarred but so, so big and wide choking you.

so you said yes, breathless yourself. and john, beautiful and ragged john, smiled and reached forward to brush your hair away from your face. you were acutely aware of the size of his hand against your cheek, and you feel floaty, too hyper-focused on the way it feels so close to your pressure point.

then, john decided he had to ruin you even more because within the next heartbeat, he whispered, “you’ll look so good in leather,” before standing up to leave. you gaped at his words in surprise, body freezing, but john did not elaborate nor put whatever he meant into action.

until now, that is.

your front is pressed flushed against the mattress, john’s weight bearing down on you from behind. his hands are tight around your wrists, gripping as he humps his cock in your cunt, rutting so deeply, making your toes curl.

you mewl and sob, arching back to try and match his pace, but john changes the rhythm and throws you off the loop again. he clicks his tongue, faux disappointment tinging his voice. “what happened to bein’ my good girl?”

there’s a shuffle as he changes position, his knees locking in place as he rises up. it makes his cock slide out, gradual and teasing, and you whimper when it finally pops out.

john fists the fat of your ass, an appreciative grunt rumbling from the base of his throat, before landing smacks on your skin, the sound reverberating like gunshots. you squeal, trying to dodge away from the weight of his hand, but john only chuckles, a sound that curls with something a little mean, spanking you countless more times until pain and pleasure bleeds together.

“john!” you hiccup, arching away from him, but john chases you with his bulk. with his cock – the fat of it sliding back so deeply in you.

“shh,” he says when you gasp, your head falling back down to the sheets. “y’r doin’ so good for me, love.”

the sound of fabric crinkling echoes beside you. you try to twist, to see what it is he’s doing, but his cock slides in harder, hitting deeper, and you collapse to your front with a gasp. john lets out a pleased rasp, doing it again – a slow glide out and a rushed thrust in – milking out more choked sobs from you.

open-mouthed breaths pass through your teeth and you arch your back, hoping that john does it faster, feeling your orgasm peaking, ready to spill over.

a snap of leather rings through from the back of your head before something wraps around your neck, looping with measured ease. there is a heartbeat, a moment of stuttered breath between you and john, before he is pulling.

it’s his fucking belt, you realized.

you mewl, unable to escape the restraint, feeling the leather digging into your throat. it hurts. it feels good. it-

john arches his cock, hitting somewhere deeper. kissing somewhere more sensitive.

fuckfuckfuck-

#suns.f #john price x reader #captain john price #price x reader #john price smut #price x reader smut #female reader #suns #anon #ask

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sixosix · 21 days

Note

hiii i fear tumblr may have ate my ask so i'll say it again just in case--if not im so sorry please ignore this i don't mean to rush you or anything :')

wanderer, candy(does that count?), fluff!! :D

(oh oh also can i be 🪐anon/saturn anon? if not thats fine! i just thought i'd ask since i think i've been sending asks consistently enough to identify myself ^^)

notes wc 800; HII your ask wasnt eaten, i was just taking a long time writing the requests LMFAO. of course u can be saturn anon!!! welcome welcome to the blog (this ask was sent a month ago and i am very much late. idek if anon is still active here…) tbh i wrote this and just went with the flow HAHA

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

You unceremoniously dump the pile of imported goods on the table, causing quite a scene in the silence of the House of Daena. They scattered about, and some even clattered onto the floor. You grinned proudly at your friends’ dumbfounded stares.

Tighnari was the first to speak. “I’m assuming you had fun on your vacation in Inazuma?”

“Do you even have money left?” Alhaitham asked, quite incredulously. The most emotion you’ve seen from this month.

It took you a moment to respond, and you felt momentarily distracted by the strange sensation of being watched. “Well, no,” you said eventually. “But I bought all this for you guys! Be more grateful, will you?”

Kaveh clapped his hands. “This is incredible! I haven’t gotten the chance to try any of these local delicacies from Inazuma!”

You nodded approvingly. See? Was that so hard? “Yes, I know. Aren’t I such a good friend? You’re welcome, all of you.”

Belatedly, they mutter their thanks.

You went on a tangent, reciting the food sales pitch you memorized from the sellers, feeling remarkably intelligent. They didn’t have to know that, half the time, you were the personification of a lost tourist/foreigner/idiot in Inazuma and just decided to play it safe and keep most of the souvenirs as food.

They segregated their wanted share and thanked you again. They left you some of the candy, which you had no qualms about eating for yourself. As you all fell into the lull of a conversation, the feeling worsened, and you’ve had enough.

You turned to your friends. “He’s been staring at me for about 30 minutes now…”

They each cast their discreet glances.

“Are you scared?” Kaveh asked worriedly.

“Look at that look in his eye!” you said. “I’ve seen that same look in Rishboland Tigers!”

“He’s not going to eat you,” Tighnari sighed. Well, he wouldn’t know that. Only Alhaitham has met Hat Guy, and he seemed to be amused instead.

“Violence is not permitted in the Akademiya grounds,” Cyno said seriously.

“Maybe it’s not you he’s looking at…?” Tighnari tried.

“Cyno, switch with me,” you ordered.

Wordlessly, he obeyed. The group watched in disbelief as Hat Guy’s gaze simply moved to where you sat next. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“Maybe he’s interested because it’s a candy imported from Inazuma,” Cyno supplied thoughtfully.

“That’s a good point. I’m surprised you didn’t make a p—”

“Don’t you mean—” Cyno held up the box that displayed the Inazuman Electro symbol on the front, “shocked?”

You hung your head. You spoke too soon. “OK.”

Tighnari watched your face for a long moment, but it didn’t feel as charged as the guy sitting a few tables away. “You don’t seem to hate the attention,” he concluded at the sight your giddy smile.

“No, I really don’t,” you admitted sheepishly. “He’s smart, and he’s handsome. Of course I’m interested. I just wish he would be a bit more normal about his flirting—if he’s even flirting. Should I give him some?”

You didn’t wait for an answer as your chair scraped backward and you faced Hat Guy directly.

“Make sure it’s just the candy you’re giving!” Kaveh called out.

“I see that Sparks are flying,” Cyno said.

Walking over while you held his gaze was excessively awkward, but it was worthwhile seeing Hat Guy’s little smirk grow like he was pleased you were taking his challenge. It was a bit of a problem, however, that he was undeniably attractive. If he was cute from afar, he was drop-dead gorgeous up close.

“Y/N,” you said, in place of a greeting.

“They call me Hat Guy,” he mused. “Those from Inazuma?”

“Yes.” Suddenly embarrassed that the bullshit you were spewing was picked up on by the guy who everyone was pretty sure was born in Inazuma. “Did you hear me?”

Hat Guy shrugged, plucking one candy from the pile on your hands. “You did pretty well. But I only have one criticism, and I can tell you bought most of them from the same place.”

Ah, you did do that. He tore off the plastic and popped it into his mouth, expression turning sour. “The best ones come from the locals. You should’ve asked the kids,” he advised.

Mouth dry, you said, “Yeah, I should’ve.”

Everyone told you that the mysterious new student—Hat Guy, you now learned—was prickly and slips off when someone approaches him. His birthday was apparently a very thrilling event—in the case that everyone had to hunt him down to give him his cake.

“Want a tip?” he asked, head tilted and looking entirely pretty. His tongue rolled around as he ate his—your candy.

“You seem to know best.”

“Take me with you next time.”

#606: 5K EVENT #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you

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live-fast-pet-frogs · 9 months

Text

HOT TAKE on the episode 6 conflict

I see posts about how Blitz and Fizz making up was too rushed and how Fizz shouldn't have forgiven Blitz because he "made him lose his limbs and burn alive" etc. and. Like, don't get me wrong, valid points, but.

1. It's been 15 years

2. It's been confirmed to have been an accident

3. It was obvious Blitz still feels guilty and super bad about it (those lines from Brandon Rogers were just *chefs kiss*)

Like, I think the main reason why Fizz was upset with Blitz in the first place was because he thought what was done to him was on purpose and maliciously. But after seeing Blitz in distress and actually apologising for it, that was cleared up. Maybe if Fizz's life wasn't good he would hold more resentment but like he said, he's doing pretty well overall and makes the most out of his situation. And he isn't alone, that's very important!! He managed to move past his trauma enough to be able to have a healthy relationship with Ozzie who "understands him". The same cannot be said about Blitz who is pretty much alone in his suffering.

I'm not saying that if someone fucked you over you need to forgive them if the person is super pitiful, but if that's the one thing that keeps you both from moving past the trauma and deciding to close that chapter? Maybe it's for the best. It's been 15 years, yo. And the conflict was based largely on a misunderstanding. Yeah maybe it was underwhelming that the feud that's been presented from the beginning of the series could have been solved by one single conversation, but that's kind of life.

Personally I have a shit ton of conflicts that could be solved if me and the other person just sat down and heard eachother out, but it's just not happening. It's realistic. Just because you technically CAN solve the problem by talking doesnt mean you will actually talk. Both people need to be in the right headspace.

So I think based on all the facts we got it's not surprising Blitz and Fizz made up. This doesn't mean they will be besties or anything, but it's a start. They can let go of the resentment and steess and guilt over the broken relationship and start moving forwards. It was incredibly mature of Fizz, and hopefully it's gonna help Blitz get more in touch with his feelings and maybe get a bit of courage in trying to keep others in his life (*cough cough* Stolas *cough cough*)

I'm prepared to get mixed feedback on this and if you disagree thats fine! Let's have a convo if you're up for it, I don't have that many people in my life who I can discuss HB with :D

#helluva critical #helluva stolas #helluva blitzo #helluva spoilers #helluva fizzarolli #blitzo #stolas x blitz #fizzarozzie #fizzaroli helluva boss #fizzarolli #stolitz #stolas #vivziepop #vivzieverse #helluva boss

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superums · 9 months

Text

monkey d. luffy's 5 love languages

gender neutral readers. fluff. improper grammar. no uses of (y/n) or (name). established relationship. strawhat-coded reader. i tried to lean into luffys childlike personality without infantilizing him... tell me how good i did that please. is meant for opla!luffy but it can go for anime!luffy as-well. spoiler free

color coded text: luffy

physical touch: luffy is very touchy feely. he likes wrapping his entire body around you like a wet noodle just because he can and you're going to have to deal with that!! he loves giving you cheek kisses or small bites on your fingers, shoulders and chest but in a non-sexual way! he loves holding your hand and swinging it back and forth. he thinks is super fun and he'll do it really hard sometimes and make his arm loose shape and flail around in the wind.

acts of service: you could ask him to get a star out of the sky he'd do it!!! he'd do little things like get things off of shelves, grab something from your room or giving you a piggyback across an island but he'd literally do anything you ask him to without a second thought..well maybe be sides share his food, he'd have to think about it foe a second and then give you a piece. but fr he's big on helping you though, he likes doing things for you. and if you ever asked him why he dose he wanna help he'd be like 'because you need help' which translates to 'because i like being with you'.

quality time: you two spend alot of time together not only because you live on a boat together (with the crew ofc) but he also seeks you out when he's bored. downtime on the ship is v common because it can take weeks to get from point A to point B and thats where you come in. sometimes he takes you to the figure head and makes you tell him stories or talk about your thoughts. other times you just sit on the deck and sunbathe while he holds your hand it all depends really.

giving/receiving gifts: it doesn't take alot to impress him he's like a baby—easy to please! you could give him a fish & he'd wiggle it around before yelling at asking sanji to cook it for him. his gifts however are usually one of two things either— 1) it takes trials and tribulations to get or 2) it comes of as simple to someone from the outside looking in but it means alot to him no in between! like lets you say you want a apple he'd somehow fight a congregation of alligators to bring back 1 apple then he'd ask for a bite. ORRRRR he gifts you something like a drawing of you that looks rushed and childish with gears around it but it took him an hour—you watched him as he would go back and forth between looking at you foe a minute and scribbling and erasing on his paper. some might make fun of him for that but you of all people know that it means a lot to him that you have!

words of affirmation: he talks about you like you hung the moon and stars you could be a marine, a civilian, someone on his crew it doesn't matter. he'd tell everyone how he feels about you regardless if you're there or not. he never misses a moment to talk about you highly though his vocabulary is a little limited so he doesn't say things like "you're extravagant" or "i admire you." when he compliments you he says things like "you're so fun." and "i like you so much." again his words are surface level to those who don't know him but he really does think highly of you even if his words don't exactly reflect it but actions are louder than words anyway.

#luffy x reader #luffy x you #one peice luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #opla x reader #one piece x reader #op live action x reader #op x you #op x y/n

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vampyrgoff · 9 months

Note

Hewos! How would the Sinclair Brothers act when they give their s/o her first kiss?

First kiss W/ The Sinclairs HC's!

sinclair brothers x fem!reader

contains— fluufffffff, minor violence in Bo's other than that its cute and its late while i write this so apologies for bad writing

requests— open!!! ill write for any slasher atp

vampyr's note— school is bustin' my girl balls fr, Sorry if the guys are a lil ooc, im delusional so I be just writing how I feel the situation would go frrrr, also its not gonna be good lol i just wanted to write something b4 bed because this is like my hobby

word count— 756 words and 3.8k characters

gifs aren't mine! credit for the dividers :D: @mmadeinheavenn thank you for your service 🤍

Bo Sinclair:

Your first kiss with Bo is rather.... gruesome :D (if you are a bo girly you gotta at least be a lil violent js)

He gives you your first kiss in his shop.

He has you talking it up with some visitors and keeping them distracted so he can strike a good kill with them

As you're talking with the visitors you notice one of the girls getting a lil too handsy with Bo. Shes touching his chest, biting her lips, and he's entertaining her too (cause he just would)

So while the other visitors leave, you ask the girl to stay back and to chit chat with you.

Once she turns her head, you blackout...

All of a sudden she's on the floor and you have a wrench in your hand thats bloody.

As she screams for help on the floor, Bo rushes up and this lil fucker has the biggest smile on his face.

"I knew you'd do somethin' about it" he coos at you.

"I-I dont know what came over me.." you say dropping the wrench on the floor with a loud bang.

"Darlin' its fine. Didn't think you'd go all out for your man like that." he'd say playfully.

He grabs you and smashes his lips against yours, dominating the kiss in seconds, while the girl basically watches and is bleeding out.

He has his hands on your cheeks and is kissing you like you just did something so amazing and wonderful.

"That's my girl." he says low and husky in your ear.

"Make sure she's the first one Vinnie does." You say as you pull away, completely flustered.

Lester Sinclair:

Your first kiss with Les is really sweet and rather innocent.

He kisses you in the forest (no not by the roadkill pile lol)

I feel like you and him just go exploring ALL the time

If you're not a nature person, he will beg you with PUPPY DOG EYES to go out with him constantly (you better give in, he deserves the world)

but I feel like he'd have a little area in the forest for you that has a fairy lights and a pretty stone path to a swinging bench that he built, just for you and him to have convos and talks.

I feel like you'd guys have this deep convo thst has to do with trauma and childhood trauma.

While you're pouring your heart out to him, he very lovingly places a small kiss on your lips as tears fall from your eyes while you remember your past and remember the things youve pushed past.

The kiss is soft, and quick.

He pulls away and is a bit starstruck at the random boost of confidence he just gained,

""m sorry. I- should've asked..." he says with the rosiest cheeks everrrr

he'll hold your hand and bow his head in shame, thinking hes gone too far.

but his heart starts to flutter once he feels your head rest on his shoulder as you guys talk some more.

Vincent Sinclair:

Your first kiss with Vinnie is adorable

It's in his basement ofc

You were in his bed, watching him work on some new sketches

Your eyes felt heavy and your breath was slowly starting to even out

Vincent hears your steady breaths after a while and rolls his chair over to you quietly, sketchbook and pencil in hand already.

This cutie straight up starts sketching your closed eyes, your nose, and your messy hair that's sprawled all over his pillow

as he adds more detail to his drawing he finally gets to the part of your face that leads to your lips.

he looks up from his sketch book and truly stares at your lips for awhile, really eyeing the depth of them and the softness of them.

he tilts his head to get a better view of them and he finally takes his mask off.

(he tends to wait for you to be asleep to finally take it off in the first few months of you guys dating)

he gets into bed with you and looks at your sleeping face and just simply admires it. the sound of your soft snores coming from your parted lips relaxes him.

eventually he very timidly places his lips onto yours, careful not to wake you up.

he places a few more pecks on your lips before pulling the duvet over your body.

after that night, it becomes a routine of his to watch you sleep and to sneak in some maskless pecks to your sleeping figure

#im so tired #wrote this at 2 am lol #i have to get up at 4am lol #vincent sinclair #slashers #house of wax #slashers x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair imagine #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader imagine #bo sinclair x reader imagine

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leanteam43 · 1 year

Text

Little Ways They Show They Care (Criminal Minds HC's)

summary : how different members of the BAU would show they care !! <43

pronouns : they/them | GN!reader!

warnings : swearing, i think thats it

a/n's : guess whos bacckkkkk - 🌿 | heyy bookie beeaaarsss- 🎸 | what should i say - 🐇

Aaron Hotchner

ACTS OF SERVICE !!

with a healthy sprinkle of gift giving~~

bro will travel across the COUNTY to pick up food from your fav restaurant

he just loves doing things to make your life easier

"i was planning on moving my couch against that wall but-" "done." "wtf-"

when y'all first started dating, you were a little overwhelmed by how willing he was to help with chores around your apartment

"you're my boyfriend not my maid..."

but he assured you he liked doing things for you, as it helped him know you were taken care of while he was away on cases

somehow always knows when you want/need something

like if you run out of your fav makeup/personal hygiene product

expect it to be gifted too you the very next day

basically he just really likes helping you out in (mostly) subtle but sweet ways

Derek Morgan

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION !!

i mean come on

we allllllllll (and i mean ALLLL) hear how he speaks to penelope

so of course with you he wouldn't be any different

except he's a bit less confident because i mean come on

yOU'RE YOUUUU, YOU LITTLE SHINING STAR <43

random calls at any point throughout the day

*3 am* "..hello?" "did you know spencer likes cheetos??"

derek is an extremely spontaneous man

like my guy is pulling up to your house with no heads-up and SHOWERING you in compliments

FASHION SHOWS AFTER YOU GO SHOPPINGGGG !!!

"GIVE ME A LITTLE TWIRL"

he's your personal hype man

Spencer Reid

QUALITY TIMEEEE :DDD

if you wanna sit down and ramble to this man, feel FREE

contrary too "popular belief", he actually can listen too others talking without interrupting, he just chooses not too /hj

he chooses to bite back his facts and quips for

refreshes himself on the classics while you sit with your legs thrown over his lap rambling about a stray cat you saw on your way too work

"did you know most calicos are females? of course you did, you're a genius" "...thank you?"

of course you do allow him to ramble too you, you're not a monster

tries to prepare you for any and every disaster

"what do you do if a car is following you?" "...peddle away?" "you don't even own a bike."

he really just wants you to be safe

"could i, hypothetically, put pepper spray on chicken?" "what do YOU think?"

JJ Jareau

QUALITY TIMEEEE <43

after long days of speaking to press, she still makes an effort to create a comfortable space for the two of you

it doesn't matter how late

or how tired

she finds a way to make time for the two of you to sit together on the couch and relax <43

after extremely hard cases, she'd just want to be around you

laying her head on your shoulder while you both recharge

the next morning,

y'all would wake up at different times but she always makes sure to make your coffee/tea exactly too your liking before rushing too the office

sometimes at the expense of being late, but oh well :D

#criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds preferences #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader #derek morgan #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #jj jareau #jj jareau x reader #jj jareau x y/n #jj jareau fluff

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burntb4bydoll · 1 year

Note

PLEASE HEAR ME OUT 👂🏻

Cockwarming with Bill. He isn’t moving but you’re whining and begging him to move, pulling at his hair. chasing release. I just know Bill has a daddy kink. I just know it

Words cannot express how bad i wanna kiss you for this ily

Bill Kaulitz x fem!reader

Warnings: cockwarming, daddy kink, hair pulling, dumbification (idk if thats spelled right im so confused help)

Bill has you sitting in his lap, facing him so that you didn’t get in his way. He was too busy doing god knows what on his computer to pay attention to your whining and attempts at grinding on him. You had practically begged him to let you sit on him while he worked, but you’re definitely starting to regret your choices.

“Stop moving. I told you that if I let you do this, you’d have to be a good girl and stay still.” His voice was sweet but you knew he was serious. You let out another muffled whine into his chest, trying to still your hips that seemed to have a mind of their own. One of his hands leave the computer to stroke your hair in attempt to calm you down. That only held you off for about 3 more minutes until you started to rock your hips again.

“D-daddy please. I wanna cum so bad please.” You sounded absolutely pathetic. He had told you exactly what was going to happen before you even crawled into his lap but you didn’t listen. He completely ignores your pleas and continues to stare at the screen, but he was no longer working. He was just sitting there pretending to not care to make you even more worked up. Although he couldn’t keep this up for long because you started to tug on his hair, rocking your hips are much as you could to try and please yourself.

“Aw, my poor dumb girl. You’re trembling, honey.” He pulls back to look at you, watching as your glossy eyes roll back slightly at his words. Your hips are suddenly stilled by his hands, making you whimper as tears start to form in your eyes.

“Daddy! Please just fuck me already, I’ll be so good..” your begging makes him smile. He watches as your hands fly back up to his hair, pulling on it to try and break free of his firm hold on your hips.

“Oh yeah? You’re not being very good right now though, are you? Yanking on daddys hair isnt gonna you what you want. You know that.” Before you could say anything, one of his hands leaves your hip to grab your chin and he kisses you. The kiss was messy and rushed, which mean that he was also getting needy. You pulled back to look at him and his lips were glossy and red, he just looked so beautiful.

“You look so pretty, daddy. I love you.” You knew that being sweet would get you what you want.

“I love you too, baby. You’re so cute. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

#tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfic #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz fanfic #kaulitz twins

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ratsofarsonunite · 2 months

Note

i thought of a yummy au you could draw:

the laser hits ballister instead of the queen and he "dies" but he doesnt die tho, Hes been in hiding for months trying to figure out who did it. imagine ambrosius's reaction to him being alive HEHEEHHEH

What a lovely day to traumatize ambrosius 👍

@puddlestheduck1 😈‼️ (i think this is puddle's au? 🤔)

Sorry this took so long 😭 under line break is added fan lore and the sketches 😈 ⬇️

*laughs hysterically*

So,... *insert very sped up writing mode* The laser hit Ballister instead of the queen, HE GETS HIS DUCKING ARM BLOWN OFF (ducking is appropriate because of puddles 😔) THE CHANDELIER THINGY FALLS LIKE IN THE MOVIE, EVERYONE THINKS HE DIED,-- *inhales* or... WHEN THE LASER NEARLY HIT BAL, AMBROSIUS TRYS TO KNOCK IT OUT OF HIS HANDS BEFORE HE GETS EVEN MORE HURT AND HE ENDS UP ACCIDENTALLY CHOPPING OFF HIS ARM 😭🤧

either beginning I'm fine with- 🤠 (help i feel like i need to stop with the emojis 💀)

Then the chandelier falls and everyone thinks he died, (including ambrosius) but... just like in the movie, there was a space below where he could escape and run into the forest to the random ass tower he has in the movie 🤓

Ballister stays there for a bit trying to figure out who tried to kill him with the 'murder wall'. While Ambrosius is...uh-

Nimona found the tower... (completely by chance i swear)

Not expecting to find Ballister trying to figure out who "murdered" him-

they become friends and stuff like in the movie 😦 (I'm lazy)

Maybe Nimona thinks he's a villain due to...well...the 'evil lair' and his *cough* emo clothes-- *cough* (thats just an idea tho :>)

Nimona: NO! You are not going to risk your life just to tell your boyfriend you're okay! Heck, for all we know, he could have been the one that tried to kill you!

Context: Ballister wanting to make sure Ambrosius is alright, and Nimona not wanting to risk Ballister actually getting killed this time (sorry I'm kinda rushing this i have to go somewhere soon 😭)

Random unrelated Ambrosius headcanon 👺 (atleast for this au- 😔)

ANNNNDDDDDDDDD back to the golden knight...and the bald bitch:

The Director: *wondering why the direct Descendant of Gloreth is in his room having a mental breakdown*

Also The Director: *'murdered' the love of his life*

AMBROSIUS: 🤠

Ambrosius' POV (sorry for the pov thing 😅): i miss him so much...it's like i can still hear him...

...

Wait--

ah yes the lore here is made out of lore (TYSM to the person that asked this, i enjoyed making it 🐀)

Happy ending :D (...or is it...they still haven't found out that the director tried to kill bal-- 😈)

EXTRA :D

full picture :>

(Also i'm planning to do some fanart of a spicy au soon...heheheheheh....)

#goldenheart #ballister x ambrosius #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #nimona movie #nimona fanart #nimona au #au #fanart #not my au

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taraprince · 1 year

Note

the nsfw abcs are so good 😩 can u do one for mello please 🙏

❗️nsfw warning❗️

OFC I CAN 🤭🤭 i’m so glad you like them <33

// GN reader, might mention pussy once it twice i don’t remember//

MELLO NSFW ABCS ~

A (aftercare) - mello isnt exactly the greatest at showing affection, but he tries his best to assure your comfort after sex, especially because he knows he can be rough sometimes all the time

B (bottom or top) - hes happy with anything as long as hes getting laid. If you wanna ride him, then be his guest. If you want him to tower over you while he fucks you stupid, hes fine with that too.

C (cum) - most of the time, he tries to pull out before he cums; however if you ask him to cum inside you he’ll obey without hesitation. He doesnt like wearing a condom, he wants to feel your heat right up against him, but he’ll do so if you ask him to <3 oh my god hes so pretty when he cums, shouting your name as his stomach flexes and his hair falls in front of his face ahhh.

D (dress up) - he doesnt mind dressing up for you, but he goes absolutely feral when you dress up for him. If There's anything that gets him hard fast, its you straddling his lap in a skimpy lace set he got for you that points out your curves so beautifully.

E (experience) - though he's a god at what he does, he actually doesn't have a lot of experience. Once he got out of Wammys, he never really got with another person before, making you his first time (which just makes his love for you even stronger)

F (fav position) - he loves loves lovessss having you ride him. He adores how prettily your thighs and chest bounce as you try to take all of him inside you. It drives him insane when he sees how your face contorts so lewdly before you cum all over him. “Cmon, you can take all of me, yeah? I know you can, just a little lower~”

G (goofy) - he’s pretty focused and serious during sex, and youll never really find yourself laughing; however sometimes he purposefully uses cheesy pick up lines when the tension is thick and you cant help but giggle a little.

H (hair) - he has a little bit of stubble down there, but he tried to keep it maintained. He doesnt really care a lot, he just wants to keep himself presentable for you. He doesnt mind what you do, if you dont want to shave then thats fine by him. Sex is sex, whether theres hair or not.

I (intimacy) - hes a bit more rough than passionate, but he does know how to make the knot in your stomach twist and turn. Every so often, when you two are having sex he’ll slow down and tell you how much he really loves you and how much he loves seeing you stuffed with his fat cock

J (jack off) - oh my god constantly. As much as he wants to take him time with you and do unspeakable things, hes just so busy with kira and near on his back all the time, so he doesnt have a lot of free time. He often resorts to pleasuring himself to the thought of how pretty and tight you are for him.

K (kink) - besides constant praise (and a hint of degradation if your needy), hes pretty vanilla. Hes definitely covered you in chocolate and licked it off you a few times, but thats only on special occasions. If he ever walked in on you with your hands tied behind your back (dont ask how its possible ok let me dream) and presented so openly for him, he’d go wild, losing almost all of his self control.

L (location) - if you want to fuck him, it doesnt matter where you two are, he’ll do it. His personal favorite out of all the places you two have done it at is on his couch at work. He loves the rush it gives him thinking of one of his dear coworkers walking in and seeing how good you can be for him and only him.

M (massage) - since he cant always be intimate with you, he often gives you massages because thats close enough, right? He really goes crazy for any type of skin to skin touch you two have because hes a man whore

N (no) - he seen and done it all really, or it feels that way at least. He cant really think of anything he wouldnt do; as long as your happy hes happy. He knows he doesnt show it very well, but he really does care a lot about you.

O (oral) - god he loves it when you sit on his face. The feeling of your plush thighs squishing his face can just make him cum over and over, but he keeps his composure so he can enjoy it a bit longer. Hes also such a fucking whore for you when you give him head. Bucking his hips, gripping your hair tightly, telling you over and over how fucking amazing your mouth feels around him. You two have for sure 69d on multiple occasions.

P (pace) - he adores roughly pounding into you (or guiding your hips quickly up and down), seeing your face twist and mewl at how good his dick feels. If you ask him to slow down, he’ll just go faster until you cum and your body goes limp.

Q (quickie) - lovess them. Yes, he loves being able to fully worship your body properly, but he just doesnt have time. he often has you against the wall of his office, rattling the wall with how hard hes rutting into you.

R (risk) - all for it 100%. Though he very protective of you, he loves the idea of fucking you silly in public with the high chance that someone could see or hear. Hes for sure fingered you in a restaurant before, and he had to remind you to keep quiet before someone heard you moaning like such a slut. “Fuck, your so loud and im only using my fingers. If your good and keep quiet for me, when we get home i’ll give you more. Sound good~?”

S (stamina) - he usually lasts about 3-4 rounds. Hes a tough man, but you make him weak in his knees when you open up so willingly for him, just begging him to ruin you from the inside out.

T (toys) - he owns a pair of handcuffs, a vibrater, and probably a ball gag. He thinks you look like a sexy fucking god/goddess when he uses his toys on you, with you squirming and mewling under him while he fucks you silly with just a few pieces of plastic and rubber.

U (unfair) - he’ll tease you with his words constantly, but once you two are in bed he cant help but just tear you apart, no time to mess around. “I see you over there getting off to my voice, rubbing your pretty thighs together. Why dont you just come over here and spread them open for me to play with, hm~?”

V (volume) - hes loud and proud. He almost WANTS people to hear how good hes getting it. He whimpers and moans when he cums, groans and mewls when you take control over his tired body (his sounds alone could make you cum over and over, and he knows it)

W (wild card) - mellos kind of a secluded guy, and as much as you think you know everything about him, theres always gonna be something that hes keeping secret. Which is exactly why it surprised you when he subtly mentioned his desire to be covered in hickies and love bites. Of course, he got what he wanted (and you may have escaped with 1 or 2 or 5 of his own marks across your body)

X (xray) - hes pretty average length, about 8, maybe 8.5 inches, but he still manages to drive you absolutely feral with the way he fucks you.

Y (yearning) - hes a raging manwhore and nothing anyone says can change my mind about that. Your always on his mind, your pretty lips both of them,your plush thighs that feel like cotton candy in his hands; he can daydream forever. You two usually have full on sex (not counting quickies) about 3-4 times a week.

Z (zzz) - hes out quick when you two are finished. Hes tired after a long few hours of countless orgasms <3

—————————————————————

AN: AH i love doing these sm 🤭 can you tell i went with a theme on this one🙏 THX FOR THE ASK I RLY APPRECIATE IT💍💍💍🫶🫶🫶

#mello death note #smut alphabet #smut #mello smut #death note smut #mello x reader #death note x reader #x reader #i still dont know how to tag

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asurix · 4 months

Note

Would you be willing to do one for toge , where reader has jist always understood him and they've been best friend for so long but also madly in love with eachother?

this is so cute, ive tried a cai with this one, but due to the lack of details on him, (he started talking...) it wasn't the best... so ill love to write this!

Genre: bestfriend!toge,toge inumaki,dom!toge inumaki,sub!toge inumaki(?), sub!reader,fem!reader,afab!

content warning: fingering,pussy eating,swearing,vaginal sex,praising, (no degrading this man isn't capble of that too cute) thats all!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 INUMAKI

You and Inumaki were bestfriend you understood every, ''salmon'', ''tuna mayo'' and ''bonito flakes'' that came out of his mouth, it wasn't difficult for you to understand Inumaki since you've known eachother for a year now, one day you and Inumaki were assigned for a mission, as usual you cleared out the building filled with cursed spirit's,you encountered a special grade, you both came back with a few scrathes, as you were getting treated by Shoko, you saw Inumaki glancing at you a few times, you couldn't make out his facial expression because of his collar but he's eyes gave off ''please tell me you're okay'', as soon as Shoko healed you and you both decided to go for a walk, you brought up what happened earlier, ''h-hey toge i saw you glancing at me a few times...is something on you're mind?'' you asked Inumaki concerned, Inumaki didn't say anything but you knew something was wrong, you've always had feelings for Inumaki thats why you knew everything about him you studied him like a book, all for love so when Inumaki gives you upset/sad looks you know somethings wrong, ''salmon...'' he answered, for the first time ever you couldn't make out what he was saying, ''come again?'' you leaned closer to Inumaki to try to figure what he was trying to tell you,

a year ago you and Inumaki learnt sign language so that you could understand eachother properly, when he gave you a signs you were kind off confused, Inumaki rarley uses sign language, what shocked you more is what he signed, ''i love you'' in sign language, you stared Inumaki shocked and confused, you glanced at Inumaki with a flustered look digging his face into his collar, ''w-woah um toge..im shocked'' you stuttered,clueless about what you should say, Inumaki gave you a ''so...?'' look, waiting for you're response to his confession, you reached for Inumaki's hand, grabbing it and brushing you're fingers from you're free hand on his palm, the sun setting, the moon glimpsing on Inumaki's face, ''i love you...to'' you smiled, Inumaki pulled he's collar down revealing his tatto's on the corner of his mouth, he grabbed you're cheeks, brushing his hand on you're face, he grabbed the back of you're head, giving you a sweet kiss, you closed you're eyes and just didn't want it to end...

oh how you should have seen it comming, you're face smushed into Toges pillow, Inumaki between you're thighs, licking you're folds, circiling you're clit with his tounge, his hand on you're stomach, and his other hand inbetween you're tighs, you couldn't help but wince at the pleasure rushing to you're body, jolting everytime he sucked on you're clit, you're eyes rolling to the back of you're head when he inserted not 1 but 2 fingers inside you, pushing his fingers in and out of you, the atmosphere hot and sweaty, Inumaki erecting at you're moans, as soon as you hit orgasm and came all over Inumaki's tounge, he got up grabbing you're legs and putting them over his shoulders, going into a mate press, he lined his cock to the entrance of you're cunt, the wet folds giving his hard tip moist, he slammed inside you, filling you completley up, the mate press giving him more acces of you, hitting you're G-spot multiple times, he continued assaulting you're cunt until you were about to cum again , ''t-toge ngh~ ah~ im about t-to come! you whinged, irritated that he didn't give you any signs. ''im g-gonna cum f-fuck!'' you groaned, ''Dont cum'' inumaki had used his cursed speech on you, you couldn't move a muscle, Inumaki continuing assaulting you're cunt making you tear up a bit, ''Toge p-please i have to cum ah~'' you moaned you're eyes hitting the back of you're head, ''Cum'' he obeyed you, you finally made a loud moan, finally cumming, Inumaki pulling out of you and cumming on you're stomach, ''f-fuck...'' you groaned, he grabbed tissues from his night stand, wiping the cum he sprayed all over you're stomach, ''tuna tuna'' (hey, you okay?) he asked concerned, ''im fine...it was just intense thats all'' you said giving him a warm smile, ''salmon salmon'' (im sorry) he said worried, ''n-no dont worry Toge it was really good'' you chuckled, he chuckled with you, you both flopped on the bed cuddling eachother inumaki spooning you, you caressed his soft hair kissing the top of his head to show you're appreciation, you both slept well after that night and offically became a couple.

#fanfic #smut #jjk smut #inumaki x reader #toge inumaki #toge inumaki x fem!reader #toge x reader #jjk #jujutsukaisen #౨ৎ — archive

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