#also WHY DID SHE CLOCK MY ASS LIKE THAT HELP???

[grahamcore]

I FORGOT HANNIBAL SAID THIS WHY IS HE SO STRANGE

MY FRIEND JUST STARTED HANNIBAL IM FUCKINGF SCREAMING WE GOT HER

[peachylynnie]

sick

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: in which sylus sneaks into your apartment and finds you sick. yet, you're not resting. why?

contains: sylus x mc!reader (they're not dating but sylus is pining and reader is confused), reader is implied to be in college, slightly obsessive sylus, mentions of violence and sickness, suggestive themes, cussing, and fluff.

a/n: i got sick yesterday. what better way to rest than to write about sylus? do NOT copy or steal my work. sylus WOULD NOT endorse plagiarism :)

you don't want to admit it. you really don't. but you're sick. there's no denying that with how short of breath you are, how nauseous you feel, and the goddamn soreness in the back of your throat that didn't go away with the first sip of water.

"shit…" you mumble as you sluggishly move to empty the dishwasher as your roommate asked. it's bad enough that you were sick, but you were also stressed out of your mind. midterms have been kicking your ass this semester. big assignments have been piling up on your already heavy shoulders. in essence, this was a burnout month, and all that lack of sleep and unparalleled stress had finally caught up to you. in the form of a cold, that is.

"of all the times," you grumble as you struggle to stack the dishes in the cabinet. "why now…" indeed, this was a terrible time to get sick. how were you to complete all your tasks while feeling absolutely miserable? you glance at the microwave clock in desperation. 10:00 PM, it read. although you meant to sigh a breath of relief, you let out a painful cough. maybe you could finish an assignment or two by midnight. that way, you can focus on studying tomorrow, you thought to yourself.

you sniff as you return to the dishwasher to unload the rest of the dishes. as much as you were happy for your roommate leaving for the weekend to finally see her family, you couldn't help but feel resentful. why were you here struggling to do the dishes while she got to have fun? shaking your head at your bitter thoughts, you bend down, trying to grab the utensils from the dishwasher. keyword: trying.

the sudden pair of strong arms that wrapped around you prevented you from doing so. normally, you would've swiftly elbowed the person behind you and turned around to land a hard blow that would have them seeing stars. instead, you exhale shakily. you recognize the mysterious backhugger's scent. the scent of sweet wine and sharp citrus. sylus.

how the hell did he get in? you don’t remember giving him a spare key when you told him your address. you look behind you, angling your head to meet his garnet eyes. "i did not give you my address just so you can sneak in like this," you say, trying your best not to sound like you're dying.

unfortunately, the nasal tone of your voice does not go unnoticed by sylus. instead of offering his usual quips, sylus furrows his brows and unclasps his right arm from your waist. you try not to flinch at the chill of his slender fingers touching your forehead. he frowns. "you're sick."

you immediately avert your gaze. "i'm not sick," you mutter as you try to bend down once more to grab the stupid utensils from the dishwasher. sylus doesn't let go. this time, he spins you around with his left arm, making sure that he can see you properly.

"you're burning up, sweetie." sylus says as flips the hand on your forehead for good measure. "you're sick and you know it."

you roll your eyes, squirming to get out of his grip. you did not want sylus to see you like this. a sick, miserable mess incapable of doing something as simple as emptying the dishwasher. you had an image to uphold after all. being vulnerable with someone like him could mean getting hurt again. last time you were vulnerable with someone… well, let's say you learned your lesson.

weakly, you push at sylus' arm around your waist with your small hands. you try not to think about how minuscule they looked next to sylus' deliciously veiny forearms. great, you're sick, and your mind decides to lust after sylus' arms. you shiver at your thoughts and attempt to push sylus' grip away once more. normally, escaping sylus' hold would be a reasonable task for you. after all, your sparring sessions with him prepared you to get out of sticky situations. but you were sick and exhausted out of your mind. all you could manage was a feeble squirm.

sylus' gaze moves from his hand on your forehead to your eyes. your half-lidded baggy eyes. his frown deepens. you looked extremely fatigued. your face was noticeably pale, and your intake of breath was short. not to mention, sylus could see the slight wince of pain whenever you tried to swallow your saliva. sylus sighs as he removes his hand on your forehead and replaces it with his own. you were neglecting yourself again.

under normal circumstances, you would've shied away from sylus' physical advancements. his hand on the small of your back? an immediate flinch and glare, signaling him to stop. a tap on the crown of your head? a swift jerk of your neck and avoidance of eye contact. instead—again, you blame it on your exhaustion—you tiredly close your eyes, relishing in sylus' cool forehead against your heated one. no resistance to be shown.

you don't see it, but sylus' sharp eyes soften at the sight of you accepting his touch. even with the eye bags and ghastly skin, you looked ethereal. like an angel sent from heaven to save him from his own solitary hell. as much as he wants to savor this moment of you finally giving into his touch, sylus knows what he must do. you're unwell and unrested. you need to be in bed immediately.

"you should be in bed, sweetie." sylus murmurs as he pulls away from your forehead. you try not to sulk at the loss of the soothing chill of his skin. though, not without feeling conflicted because why you would even sulk about him? for god's sake, he was a criminal. he's taken countless lives. not to mention, he choked you upon meeting you, called you a disappointment, and tried to alter you after three straight days of relentless attempts at a forced resonation… just thinking about him drives you nuts and being driven nuts is the last thing you want right now.

"i'm fine, sylus." it was your turn to pull away, trying to put as much distance between you two as his firm grip around your waist would allow. "besides, nothing a little old tea can't fix."

with that, you turn to face the dishwasher and reach for the utensils for the umpteenth time of the night. sylus sighs and pinches his nose bridge with his free hand. as much as he admired your stubbornness, he could not help but resent it at times like these. times when you were in desperate need of a break. before you can grab the utensils, you feel yourself get lifted off the ground effortlessly.

sylus' arm on your waist had moved to your shoulder, and his other arm was hooked under your thighs. he had you in bridal style in less than a second. your eyes widen, realizing the sudden change in positions. "what are you doing?!" you cough painfully. "put me down!"

you do your best to escape sylus' new grip on you by kicking your legs and squirming uncontrollably, but it was hopeless. you were weakened due to your sickness, and sylus was determined to make sure you looked only at him instead of the goddamn dishwasher. one more look at it, and he swears he's gonna break it with his evol.

quickly and confidently, sylus exits the kitchen with you in his arms and arrives at what he guesses is your shared bedroom with your roommate. he tries not to get distracted by the fact that this is his first time in your room. god, the entire space smelled so much like you, he wanted to become one with it and watch you forever and ever. dismissing his intrusive thoughts, sylus gently places you down on your bed and starts to cover you in your blanket.

"wait, sylus," you start, trying to get up. "i have to empty the dishwasher. i have homework, too." sylus tuts as he shakes his head, his messy silver locks following suit. although he doesn't respond, sylus continues to spread out your blanket. you furrow your eyebrows at his strange behavior. "sylus…" you whine. you actually whined. something you never thought you would do, especially in front of sylus. you could feel his intense gaze prick at you like little needles. you avoid his gaze, hoping to hide your flustered state.

adorable. that's what you are. incredibly adorable to the point sylus wants to grab your chin and force you to look at him as he coaxes more and more of your pretty whines out of you.

trying to fight his indecent thoughts, sylus locks eyes with you, a firm yet pleading look on his face. "you need to rest, sweetie," he leans in to adjust your pillow. "you won't get anything done in this state." you try to protest again, but sylus beats you to it. "rest. i'll take care of everything."

well, fuck. how can you say no when sylus, in all of his gorgeous glory, is centimeters from your face, telling you that he will take care of everything and asking you to do the one thing you've been longing to do for a very long time? besides, you felt sleepy ever since sylus took you in his arms. just this once. just this once, you'll allow yourself to be vulnerable with him. so that you can rest, of course. totally not because sylus had a way of comforting you so sweetly and breaking your defensive walls so charmingly.

your labored breathing slows as you cautiously nod. "fine," you yawn. "the utensils go in the very left drawer of the island while the pots and pans go in the stove oven, and…" you can feel sleep beckoning for you as you continue to list instructions. sylus can't help the grin that appears on his face as he watches your cute blinks grow in intervals.

"noted, sweetie." he caresses a stray hair strand out of your face. "i'll make sure everything is back where they belong." like you to him. though, he doesn't say that part out loud. maybe another day. when you are no longer wary of him and are willing to acknowledge his very obvious affection for you. deep in his fantasy, sylus almost misses your cute snores. he chuckles, taking this chance to admire you now that you've fallen asleep.

you truly were an angel. the way your eyebrows furrowed here and there in your sleep. the way your plump lips parted at times. the way your button nose twitched sporadically. oh, sylus loved it all. he could watch you sleep forever. but he had a better task at hand: to take care of you. he assured you that he would take care of everything. and sylus is a man of his words. carefully to not wake you, sylus cups your face with his right hand. closing his eyes, he places a delicate kiss on your forehead.

"rest well, sweetie. i'll see you soon."

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho

[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe

For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones. 

You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out. 

It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago. 

Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.  

Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves. 

“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly. 

“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign. 

He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.” 

He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.” 

Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him. 

You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.” 

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.” 

He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom. 

“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.” 

“Hey, it’s good.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”

“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you). 

“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question. 

The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change. 

Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet. 

“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn. 

“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face. 

“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck. 

“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on. 

“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.

Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.” 

“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.” 

Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him. 

“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?” 

You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it. 

“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones. 

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu. 

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.” 

“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…” 

“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”

He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.” 

Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?” 

“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.

“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble. 

“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.

Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”

Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.” 

“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot. 

“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?” 

“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?” 

Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.” 

That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds. 

“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.

“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”

“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you. 

“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.” 

Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep. 

The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing. 

You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.

“Never knew you read.” 

“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding. 

You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”

He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”

Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you. 

“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.

“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?” 

You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”

“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.” 

“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”

“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down. 

“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu. 

“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”

“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb. 

“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.

“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.

“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.

“And believe you instead?” 

Oh, you wish.

Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him. 

“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.” 

He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it. 

“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.” 

Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode. 

“How far are you with that one?” 

“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.” 

He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him. 

“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave. 

“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check. 

By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone. 

It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though. 

[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: i got to chap 20  [You]: what [You]: how [Mingyu]: started reading when i got home [Mingyu]: and then i got to 20 [Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter [You]: you think? [You]: was it that good [Mingyu]: couldnt put it down [Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing  [You]: you know where to find me when you wake up

The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon. 

Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone. 

You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better. 

There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. 

The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still. 

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did. 

Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you. 

“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.

“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies. 

“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips. 

Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole. 

It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”

You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.” 

“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”

“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets. 

“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”

Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.

More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought. 

That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.  

Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait. 

The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.

It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly. 

“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression. 

“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish. 

But you don’t. 

“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?” 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back. 

“Did you drive like this?” 

“Uh, no, I walked.”

“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”

“Wanted to see you.”

It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard. 

“Had to talk about the book.”

Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”

He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”

You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store. 

“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”

He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?” 

“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.” 

By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before. 

“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”

“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.” 

“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”

Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him. 

He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?” 

Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”

“Why?” 

“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone. 

The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee. 

“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck. 

“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.” 

“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him. 

“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”

“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently. 

“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in. 

“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter. 

“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time. 

He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb. 

“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly. 

“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth. 

Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed. 

“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth. 

It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die. 

Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time. 

“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter. 

You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”

He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.

It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night. 

You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank. 

It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer. 

If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.

There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar. 

They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though. 

“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table. 

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies. 

Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face. 

Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.” 

“It’s not about that.” 

Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”

Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”

“Better?”

 “She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”

Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”

“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”

“Easy?”

“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.” 

It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him. 

His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”

“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”

He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.

“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing. 

“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.

Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.” 

“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder. 

“Yeah…”

“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly. 

“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth. 

“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.” 

Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.

“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid. 

Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”

“You hate living in peace.”

“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—” 

“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry. 

He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence. 

Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.

“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —” 

“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table. 

Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.

“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.” 

“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late. 

“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.” 

Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff. 

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts. 

“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.

“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up. 

By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.

Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off. 

He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?” 

“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow. 

“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies. 

“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.” 

“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you. 

“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly. 

“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”

The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long. 

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware. 

He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you. 

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament. 

Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start. 

You really needed a new car. 

Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head. 

Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run). 

So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down. 

The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead. 

“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”

She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave. 

“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing. 

“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.  

“That’d be great actually, thank you.” 

Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.

You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you. 

Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day. 

You had forgotten your book. 

It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry. 

You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day. 

What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day. 

Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day. 

You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.  

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities. 

Was he uncomfortable with you? 

Was he avoiding you? 

Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him? 

The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were. 

Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying. 

[Mingyu]: hey  [Mingyu]: are you at work today?  [You]: yeah  [You]: i get off at 10 tho  [Mingyu]: can i see you today? 

You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating. 

[You]: course [You]: are you coming to the store?  [Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off  [You]: okay!!! [You]: see you then 

There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month. 

Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. 

Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap. 

Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door. 

Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him. 

“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him. 

“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes. 

Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.” 

He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”

“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water. 

He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.” 

“It’s next week, isn’t it?” 

He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.  

“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior. 

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?” 

“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.” 

“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood. 

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.” 

“O-okay.” 

It’s silent. Painfully so. 

“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.” 

There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat. 

“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.” 

“Mingyu—“

“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”

His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually. 

“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”

He pauses. 

“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”

“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”

There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down. 

You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much. 

“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob. 

It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much. 

“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”

The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu. 

And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms. 

You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long. 

But you can’t. You can’t do it. 

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”

You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down. 

“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”

Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak. 

You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore. 

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart. 

It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company. 

Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.  

Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway. 

You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck. 

There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form. 

“What’re you doing?”

Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort. 

“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters. 

“It’s not that!” you groan.

“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.” 

Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.

There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs. 

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you. 

“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.” 

“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?” 

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?” 

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits. 

“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time. 

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head. 

“Seokmin!” you scream. 

“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him. 

“No, it’s not,” you grit. 

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact. 

“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”

“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!” 

“I don’t want to go.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”

“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled. 

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.” 

He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.

 Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase. 

Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.

The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense. 

The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed. 

Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar. 

Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge. 

There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd. 

You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?

Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say. 

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this. 

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

“You’re here,” he says, simple as that. 

“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes. 

“Seok told me you were here too.” 

Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?” 

“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”

“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.

You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you. 

Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands. 

“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.

It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all. 

You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft. 

The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back. 

And another

Then another. 

You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work. 

You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all. 

THE BEGINNING

There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays. 

There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name. 

“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…” 

You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak. 

You needed to leave. 

Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed. 

“Let’s go home.”

“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.” 

He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away. 

“Let me drop you off home.” 

You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.

He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.

You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down. 

Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.

You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop. 

Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same. 

The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded. 

Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so? 

Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window? 

You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief. 

Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep. 

You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom. 

Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint. 

“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?” 

You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?” 

There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?” 

“Nayeon’s” 

“Bullshit.”

You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?” 

Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”

You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot. 

By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles. 

Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this. 

Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too. 

“Promise me you mean it,” you say. 

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying. 

“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”

The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying. 

Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”

“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap. 

Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips. 

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks. 

“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”

There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite. 

“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”

Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside. 

His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years. 

His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his lips. 

Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment. 

“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full. 

There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far. 

“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”

He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth. 

“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”

He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”

He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”

By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down. 

Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy. 

“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out. 

His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other. 

“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”

Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties. 

Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage. 

Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”

“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”

He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core. 

Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you. 

“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional. 

There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same. 

The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat. 

Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left. 

“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good. 

“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame. 

Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.” 

You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 

He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?” 

“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away. 

He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut. 

“Oh, Mingyu,” 

That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more. 

It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint. 

“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”

He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.” 

“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax. 

And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”

He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot. 

You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his. 

“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own. 

“Great.”

“Great?”

“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process. 

You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes. 

“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves. 

“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand. 

“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips. 

Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness. 

“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.” 

When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.” 

“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge. 

“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole. 

You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady. 

He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.” 

When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.

He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic. 

If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”

“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before. 

And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well. 

He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze. 

He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed. 

His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.

“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body. 

He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.” 

You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again. 

“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub. 

“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?” 

Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent. 

“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.

“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”

There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone. 

“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers. 

“Did you bring it with you?” 

You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed. 

“What the fuck?” you breathe out. 

“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed. 

You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.

“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again. 

“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.” 

“Oh.”

The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later. 

“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.

“What?”

“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.” 

“I-”

“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.” 

The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened. 

You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand. 

You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands. 

“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”

“We could do that right now.”

“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”

“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.

“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them. 

“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.” 

You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.

“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”

You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”

He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.

 His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it. 

“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter. 

He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off. 

Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep. 

The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time. 

The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar. 

Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp. 

 There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.

You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same. 

Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s. 

The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here. 

You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back. 

It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you. 

They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother. 

[Nayeon]: fuck [Nayeon]: i didnt see this [Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you  [Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here [Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you  [You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late [You]: i was at mingyus place [You]: ill tell you more later [Nayeon]: WHAT???

By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”

“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”

You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does. 

“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face,  “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.” 

“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”

Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.” 

The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?” 

“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.” 

You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?” 

“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.” 

“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort. 

“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.” 

“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.” 

“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.

“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”

He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.” 

“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.

He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.” 

When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.” 

“I hope so,” you reply.

“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.” 

You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?” 

His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”

Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”. 

6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses. 

By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can). 

Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed. 

It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth. 

“Are you upset?��� Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.

“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”

“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”

You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs. 

“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”

‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?” 

“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”

“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly. 

“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples. 

“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.” 

He’s silent. 

“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.” 

No response. 

“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”

Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”  

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?

“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.” 

You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight. 

“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.” 

“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.” 

“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”

The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling. 

Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well). 

But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other. 

His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment. 

You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight. 

As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively. 

By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you. 

You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit. 

You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you. 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you. 

By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.

“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”

“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”

“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.

He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”

“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.” 

He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”

“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.” 

He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”

It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights. 

“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”

“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”

You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”

He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!” 

You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle. 

“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”

He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.” 

You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home. 

It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums. 

“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.

“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate. 

“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load. 

It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”

He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?” 

“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.” 

He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”

You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”

He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”

He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”

“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything. 

You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.” 

Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”

“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite. 

It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie. 

He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression. 

“Love ya’” he giggles. 

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”

“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!” 

You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening. 

“Hey!” 

Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all. 

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone. 

“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply. 

“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself. 

It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

[glitteringobliteration]

Something bugged me about what Brennan said about Fabian’s new gold maximum legend tattoo: he’s now immune to Dragon Madness.

Why would that matter? Yeah, it’s probably great for Fabian’s future adventures but why would it be relevant now? The Bad Kids already got rid of all the gold they received from Kalvaxus’ hoard, right?

Please bear with the red-string bulletin board-making side of my brain while I talk through my theory:

It’s always struck me a bit odd how much attention is being paid to Fabian’s finances this season. I totally get that it’s partially due to his parents being gone all year/turning 18 and gaining access to the funds left by his papa, as well as the general arc Fabian is going through of navigating going it alone for the first time, but it feels like there’s more to it than that. Fabian has never wanted for money before, and it hasn’t really factored into this season either (for him. points about Adaine being broke are irrelevant rn.) beyond the handful of conversations (and one altercation lol) we’ve seen between Fabian and his banker, Alston Hughes. A couple of things that Brennan has mentioned feel very much like breadcrumbs, and I’m not sure if the Intrepid Heroes have clocked any of it yet (as of Ep 15: The Last Stand).

Fabian banks with KVX, which Alston Hughes tells him has gone through a shift in management since their board of directors were smote by the Council of Chosen. Their branding and logos have changed from Kalvaxus red, to blue.

I also find it worth noting that we did discover Alston Hughes to literally be a member of The Harvestmen. 👀

This brings to mind the subject of Oisin.

Oisin is a blue dragonborn in his junior year at Aguefort, the conjuration wizard of the Rat Grinders. We learned at the shrimp-jump party that he’s descended from a blue dragon, who’s said to live atop a great hoard of treasure.

Oisin offers to help Adaine get some of her much-needed spell components, and she turns him down.

Aelwyn tells us that Kipperlilly can’t use Oisin to get the material components she needs - hence why she’s using Aelwyn. Kipperlilly says she needs to protect Oisin.

Why?

I’m willing to bet that his family has something to do with the new management at KVX. I’m also willing to bet Kipperlilly knows exactly how to protect herself from Dragon Madness.

And Fabian’s new tattoo is gonna save everyone’s asses. True Maximum Legend.

[morganbritton132]

I absolutely love every time other people find something out about Steve and are just like ???

I wonder if any of his student’s parents are fans of Eddie’s but have no idea their kid’s teacher is married to him (perhaps finding out at career day 👀)

I love the thought of some rock n roll dad (aka: the guy in the minivan blaring Rage Against the Machine during morning drop off (aka: aka: my dad)) meeting his kid’s teacher during open house and seeing a picture on his desk of him and guitar legend, Eddie Munson.

Steve’s in the middle of explaining the curriculum for the year when Rock N Roll Dad points to a picture of him and Eddie backstage at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame last year when Eddie presented like, “You like that guy?”

Steve looks from Rock N Roll Dad to the picture and then back, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Then he goes back to talking about what they should expect in terms of homework and that was that until parent/teacher conferences.

The first thing Rock N Roll Dad clocks in the new picture on Steve’s desk. It replaced the Eddie Munson one with a new one of the two of them in the parking lot after a local show. Steve’s got his arm thrown around Eddie’s neck, both of them smiling wide, and Gareth is in the background giving them bunny ears.

Rock N Roll Dad points to the framed picture like, “Pretty cool to have met ‘em.”  

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

Rock N Roll Dad is not gay himself but he is not one of those ultra straight Corroded Coffin fans that liked to pretend that half the band isn’t queer. He was actually watching the MTV Music Awards show that Eddie publicly came out at by declaring his love for some guy named Steve, and actually.

Rock N Roll Dad thought it made a lot of sense that Eddie Munson was gay because well. A lot of his songs were… phallic.

So, he knows.

He knows that Eddie Munson is gay and that he’s married to some guy whose name isn’t even listed on his Wikipedia page, and he knows that he lives in Chicago, but what he doesn’t know is why he never put two and two together and got Steve Harrington.

There’s a different picture of Eddie Munson on Mr. Harrington’s desk when Rock N Roll Dad goes to talk to him after his kid gets detention for being a little shithead. There is framed original concept art for CC’s first album on the wall behind Steve when Rock N Roll Dad checks in on his kid during a zoom study session.

Hell, Rock N Roll Dad follows Eddie on Tiktok.

He has seen the ass shots that Eddie has posted of his husband in his running shorts, and he did think, yeah, that’s a great ass. He didn’t know he was thinking that about his kid’s math teacher!!

It’s not even Career Day when he discovers it. It’s the day before when they can set up their booths in the gym because Rock N Roll Dad may be a heavy metal fan always, but he’s also an accountant from 8:30 to 4:30 Monday thru Friday.

 He’s struggling to keep his poster board up when in walks guitar legend, Eddie Munson. He’s carrying a box, following behind a guy carrying an iguana.

Rock N Roll Dad abandons everything and walks over to the booth across the way. He can hear the two bickering with each other but before he can say anything, Steve Harrington is there and he is distressed, “Why do you have that?!”

“Her name is Leia, Steve,” Dustin says, “and she has separation anxiety.”

Steve opens his mouth like he wants to complain but doesn’t even know where to begin so he just accepts it, “Is she going to eat somebody?”

“That happened one time!”

Eddie Munson, infamous guitarist that lived on Rock N Roll Dad’s walls as a teenager, uses the opportunity to slide up next to Mr. Harrington and wrap an arm around him. He kisses his cheek, “Baby, we’re here to help.”

“You’re here to guilt me into letting you be a part of Career Day.”

“I can multitask, babe,” Eddie grinned, still so close to Steve that his smile touches his cheek. Steve just sags against him and Rock N Roll Dad thinks, oh. He thinks, oh, shit.

“You have a fan,” Steve mumbles, pulling away a little. It takes Rock N Roll Dad a second to realize that they’re talking about him and then he thinks, fuck.

“Hey – Hi. Uh.” He stops, thinks about lying and saying he needs tape or something, but settles on, “I didn’t know my kid’s teacher married you.”

“Technically, I married him.”

“Technically, I married both of you,” Dustin pointed out. “I officiated the wedding.”

“Ah,” Rock N Roll Dad says because what else is there to say. “Big fan.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

[sunaluv]

hey!!! big big fan! your writing is amazing!

what if you did a you should come get your man but instead make it ‘you should come get your reader’

i just want to see characters get jealous basically lol. hope you’re doing well !!

🗣️getting rid of my drafts, drop some more prompts in my inbox.

Pairings: kaiser, reo

———————

KAISER

as the game ended and the fans started to filter out of the stadium, you hung back waiting for your boyfriend. now that the seating area was almost empty, kaiser could finally talk to you.

he called out to you as he jogged over. “did you enjoy the game, my love?” you took his outstretched hand and climbed onto the field.

“of course I did,” you swung your interlocked hands. “you were amazing as per usual.”

the two of you chatted aimlessly, walking around the field as kaiser started to come down from his post-game high.

"alright, I'm gonna go freshen up and get my stuff," he kissed the back of your hand. "wait for me?"

you nodded, eyeing the man as he vanished down the hall.

"i can feel you staring!" he called without looking back, making you chuckle.

deciding to be useful, you gathered kaisers left belongings off the bench and started to make your way towards the stadium exit.

"you kaiser's girl?" a voice from behind you.

startled, you turned around to see a guy dressed in the ubers uniform. you don't recognise him and you've met all your boyfriend's teammates, so you deduced that this guy is probably a rookie in training.

"that's me," you smiled politely, "can i help you with anything?"

"you sure can help me with something," he smirked, rubbing his chin. "for starters, you can tell me how that egomaniac managed to bag a gorgeous girl like yourself,"

how he managed to both complement you and diss you (indirectly) you found quite fascinating, but you weren't having any of it.

"he was a real sweetheart." emphasis on the sweetheart. "I'm sure if you use a more friendly approach you can get whoever it is your looking for."

the guy clearly didn't seem to get the hint. "so you're into nice guys, huh. why are ya' with michael then. guy's an ass."

"'guy' also thinks you should show a little more respect to your superiors, rookie."

smirking, you turned around to find your knight in shining armour eyeing the rookie with a smirk.

"my fault boss," his attitude was nonchalant. "keep a tight leash on this one though, or else i might get tempted again."

he smirked, trying to barge shoulders with kaiser as he passed, grunting under his breath when he didn't move an inch.

"you should go fight him, defend my honour." you nudged his side once he was out of earshot.

he chortled loudly, "you're such an instigator, I'm not fighting him."

"you'll do it if you love me?" you questioned blinking up at him with innocent eyes. the things you would do you see michael throw hands with someone.

his big hand pushed your face away from him. "ill do you one better and make his training with the ubers unbearable, how does that sound, hmmmm?"

a pout formed on your lips as you sighed. "...ill take it i guess."

REO

the clock has just passed midnight, but the party your boyfriend had invited you to was at its peak. enjoying the buzz of the alcohol that was once in your empty glass, you headed over to the bar.

"hey," you flagged the bartender down, "could i get a refill on this please?

the neon blue lights of the bar made the sparkle in his eye more evident when he caught sight of you.

"whatever the pretty lady wants," he brushed his fingers against yours when taking your glass. "what can i do for you?"

the brief contact and the intense eye contact quickly fought off the oncoming buzz. "the pretty lady is taken, but she is willing to forget about this if she could get a pornstar?" you offered.

"oh you can get a pornstar alright," he winked. "give me a sec, sweetheart."

alarm bells rang in your head as his back was towards you, meaning your glass was out of sight.

there was no way in hell you were gonna drink whatever he put in front of you.

he returned a short while after, sliding your drink across the bar.

"you know, if you wanted, i could give you another pornstar you'll really enjoy." he pulled back your glass when you reached out for it.

"no thanks. boyfriend." your smile came tight and fake.

"come onnnn, princess," he smiled wider. "aren't you having so much fun at this party? spend the night with me and i can make sure you can get into all the exclusive parties you want."

"she'll pass." came mikage's voice from your side. he wrapped an arm around you, in an attempt to smooth your tense muscles as he dragged the glass back over with two fingers.

the bartender's face hardened, "the lady can speak for herself, thanks bro."

"m' not your bro." reo's brows furrowed. "you're making my girl uncomfortable, did you put anything in her drink?"

the guy shook his head wordlessly, prompting reo to sip the glass.

"wait, what if-"

"don't worry, sweetheart," his hand dropped to stroke your thigh comfortingly. "it's clean, but I'm sorry this happened to you. i should've noticed sooner."

you relaxed with his touch, "it's not your fault, reo. sometimes people can't handle rejection."

"i'm right here ya know?"

two pairs of eyes stared the guy down, one neutral, one daring.

rolling his eyes, mikage turned to face the guy. "between you and me, you might need to find another bribe to pull ladies with because i can tell you now this will be the last gig you'll ever do."

the guy gulped under reo's intense gaze.

"alright man, in understand the ladys' taken, you don't need to go threatening my job."

"you threatened your won job once you tried it with her,"

you placed a hand on his arm as a reminder to be rational.

"i'm sorry baby," he pecked your forehead. "you ready to go home?"

you nodded.

[holyblonded]

consequences of my actions | golden girl

pairings: paige bueckers x black!oc

summary: paige and kenza have to deal with the repercussions of the night before

warnings: none(?)

notes: italics are spanish or Catalan; sorry for the wait i needed a break after the results of the election (we are cooked!) 😍

THE FEELING ON THE SUN AND THE SOFT HUM OF WHATEVER JULIO IGLESIAS SONG WAS CURRENTLY PLAYING, WOKE PAIGE UP FROM HER PEACEFUL SLUMBER.

Paige could tell she was in Kenza's apartment as the distinct aroma of coco butter and lavender circulated the room. The blonde's feet touched the cold floor and she was greeted by the few month old Cane Corso puppy that she and Kenza rescued from a frat house. Paige picked up Draco and carried him to the living area where Kenza was making breakfast. Setting the dog down to eat, Paige snuck up and wrapped her arms around the shorter girl.

"You always wake up so early," Paige complained as she glimpsed at the clock that read 7:24am. "Even on your off days."

Kenza smiled and she transferred the seasoned scrambled eggs to the plate and moved on to cook the salmon. "You know I need my early morning run."

Paige did know that, as it was a habit the girl picked up from her Mami. Kenza and Diana wake up bright and early at 5am to go for a daily run. Whenever her Diana held basketball camps, the same ones Paige attended, the camp would go on the run and it's safe to say Paige is not a morning person. Paige also knew she kept these runs up in Barcelona when she would send her morning pictures of her running to a cafe to get a drink.

Shaking her head at the thought, Paige kissed Kenza's cheek before going to the record player and changing the vinyl to The Supremes. Kenza laughed when Paige danced her was back to island where Kenza set their food down.

Paige grabbed Kenza's hand and pulled the girl to her before anchoring her free hand on the brunette's waist. The pair danced to Someday We'll Be Together. As Paige looked down at Kenza laughing as they clumsily tripped over their feet many times

The two sat at Kenza's island eating area, the freshly cooked breakfast, and the sunlight that streamed through the blinds and onto their skin. Paige's eyes seemed to unintentionally pierce through Kenza's soul while admiring her.

"Paige, you're gonna piss me all the way off if you keep staring at me,” Kenza said in such a sweet tone, "Wack ass blue eyes."

Paige couldn't help but laugh at the out of pocket comment before standing up and taking their plates to the sink. "I hear you, Kenny but we gotta go to the vet remember."

IMESSAGE

real madrid haters 🦅

pro yapper (jaheem)

gavi lover (leo)

mind witch (erykah)

evil twin (gavi)

lioness

KENZ

DID YOU SEE TSR

evil twin

I WAS JUST ABOUT TO SEND IT

pro yapper

aye kenza you gotta get your

lick back and punch that nigga

evil twin

i’m with jaheem

mind witch

NOT THE CURRENT

CONCERN

lioness

ONG

EVERYONE THINKS

YOU AND PAIGE ARE DATING

.... are you 👀

pro yapper

wait a cotton picking minute

they weren't dating all this time?

lioness

...why are you even the gc 🫥

KENZ RESPOND

pro yapper

y'all know she ain't gonna

respond

she's at the vet rn

check her lo

mind witch

WHY DIDNT YOU SAY

THAT EARLIER

pro yapper

alr y'all gonna piss me off

Kenza sighed as she was on the phone with her manager that was rapidly speaking Catalan. Kenza toyed with a magazine at the vet's office, waiting for Draco.

"Caterina, please calm down. You're in town at the office, right? I'll swing by after the vet appointment and we can get it all sorted out, mkay?" Kenza responded in Catalan and decided not to give the older woman a chance to respond. "Great! Bye, love you." Kenza hung up and threw her head back with a groan, running her hands across her face. She glanced at her phone, seeing the Barcelona group chat blow up, likely teasing the baby of the group about the situation. Kenza looked across the room where Paige stood, seemingly dealing with the same situation with her manager.

"Draco has officially gotten his five month shots," the vet announced to Paige and Kenza. With Paige still on the phone, Kenza got up to grab Draco who was seemingly excited as he got a new toy.

"Draco! Were you a good boy?" Kenza crouched down to pet the overly energetic dog as he basically tried to climb her.

"Just make sure to schedule his next appointment," the vet told Paige, who just got off the phone and was standing behind Kenza and Draco.

The pair thanked the vet and strolled to the Kenza's Porsche Cayenne in the parking garage. Paige opened the door for Kenza before putting Draco in her lap.

"My manager and your manager want to meet together," Paige told the girl as she started the car. Paige always drove when it was just her and Kenza. Mostly because Paige was afraid of the way Kenza drove, but also for safety purposes.

Kenza groaned for what felt like the millionth time that day, "Who even recorded that video? This is dumb."

"You come to America to further your education. Yet somehow, you get into more trouble here than Barcelona!" Caterina scolded Kenza like a toddler who drew on the walls. Caterina has been Kenza's manager since she started at La Masia and started to see Kenza as her first born after a while. That being said, whenever Kenza made poor decisions, she got a lecture not only from Alexia but Caterina too. "Nena, do you need another media training course? Because you might be asking for it at this point!"

Kenza stayed silent ask Paige and her manager walked in, making Caterina take a seat, "After this, you will call Alexia and explain to her."

Kenza's head shot up to look her manager in the eye for the first time since she got there. "Cat, no."

"Paige, Kenza, while the situation that occurred isn't a big deal when you look at it, the media has made it one. But, we have found a way to turn this into positive press." Caterina started, crossing her legs, "Both fanbases seem to like you together and we are going to profit on that. In order to outweigh the negativity of the situation, the two of you are going to fake date."

[delusion-mostly]

Regina George x Reader

Part 1/32 (yeah I know, right?)

Warnings: angst if you squint, name calling, suggestive wording

I wrote this a while ago, if you think I need to add anything else for this one, lmk!

Word count: 1,265

"What the hell are you doing on my ice, George? The hockey team already released the team list, we can't accept anyone else. Either way, we don't like drama."

"Actually, I'm not on the ice," Regina gives you a dirty look, pointing at the fact that she is right outside the ice, not on it, "and ew, this does not sound appealing. You look like a fridge wearing a knockoff dollar-store sports jersey. This also looks a bit rough." she makes a gesture at your outfit, and size.

Well, she was right. The school had a small budget for the women's team, and you tower over her. Your shoulder pads add to the size, you really are built like a fridge at the moment.

"Then what are you here for? To call me another slur?" You take your helmet off and lean your head down on your stick, smirking, "here for a good time?"

Regina fake gags, "Absolutely no. Gross. Quit speaking," she gives another dirty look, "I saw the poster that you needed a manager for the team. I can't play any sports and everything is so fucking lame. I can at least see fights here." She shrugs

"And why do you of all people want to be involved in anything  that doesn't involve pretty pink glitter and being a massive bitch?" Putting emphasis in the 'B' in bitch, you poke Regina with your stick.

"If I didn't have to I wouldn't," she shoves the stick off of her shoulder, "but my therapist is making me. I can't let last year consume me, and I have to be helpful or whatever."

You look at the clock and put your helmet back on then glide across the ground, your skates leaving gashes in the ice. Regina stands by the opening into the rink, dumbfounded that someone had just walked away from her. The clock makes a loud buzzing noise and pucks fly into the net and scatter the ice around it.

"Well, George, you gotta work up the food chain here," you get a smug look on your face, "Practice is over! We don't have to get the pucks tonight. Our lovely new manager Miss Regina George will get it for us. Won't you?" you skate up to the blonde, whose eyes sit wide.

The team leaves to the locker room before leaving the building as Regina nods. She could not believe that someone had actually spoken to her like that. You ask her shoe size, go to the locker room, and come out with a pair of skates. They are blue and gold, and old. Like, really old looking. The blade is sharp but the leather is worn and creased. You intentionally grabbed the oldest pair that would fit her. Queen Bee George wouldn't own the ice like she did the rest of the school. You drop the skates in front of Regina.

"You expect me to know how the hell to put these on?"

"Are you ACTUALLY kidding me right now George?" You don't get an answer, so you sit down in front of Regina, "wow you aren't. I will do this one time, and one time only." You hold up a one on your hand and Regina nods.

You lace the skates while Regina complains about how tight they are, then you describe why they had to be so tight, she finds some way to complain about your reasoning too. You lead her on to the ice, she isn't an awful skater, although she falls once. You teach her how to collect the pucks by scooting the net around the ice, then take her to the locker room.

"I really need to get out of these clothes, but as the captain it's my job to tell you what your jobs are. So I hope you don't mind," You start taking off your jersey, "so basically you will make sure the locker room and ice stays clean. You'll scrape the ice, make sure it's clean and pretty, get our stuff on the bus for away games, basic shit." you peel the outer layers of your gear off.

"So I don't have to drive the zimbabwe or whatever?" Regina asks, relief washing over her as she looks at you.

"No you will not be driving a whole ass country, honey," You look dumbfounded, "The custodial staff or our coach are the only ones who operate the ZAMBONI. And quit looking. I can't tell if you're jealous or you want me." You smirk over at Regina as she quickly rotates her head away from your direction.

You finish changing, she glances over at you one more time while your back muscles flex, pulling a shirt over your head. You throw on a pair of faded jeans and a red flannel. You pull your phone out and hand it to Regina on the contacts page.

"This by no means is asking you to ever speak to me outside of anything hockey related, or even hockey related, actually. Never text me," you smile and take the phone back from Regina, "this is just so I can add you to the team group chat."

Regina is left speechless, she has never ever been disrespected like that.

"You literally just met me, what the fuck is your problem? I will not let my year be ruined by your rude ass." Regina scoffs.

"My problem, Regina, is that my name was in that little book of yours. Right next to the words 'body count higher than points scored' and 'hockey lez'," you sit and stare at Regina, "I do not want to talk to you outside of this sport, and I will talk to you as little as I can here. I appreciate that you are getting better and working on your behavior after last years events, but this does not change the fact that words are mean. It didn't hurt, but I don't make company with assholes."

You walk out to your car, a 2015 Subaru Forester. You don't notice Regina's highly recognizable Jeep in the parking lot, and see her walk out of the building. She keeps walking past the parking lot, sprinkles of rain splattering the ground around her. You are an asshole, but not that big of one. You speed out of the lot and pull up next to Regina, who is walking down the side walk with her hot pink hood over her head, and roll your window down.

"Why are you walking? It's raining and you have a nice Jeep. This is ridiculous George." You shout.

"I still don't trust myself driving alone after the accident in case my back locks up, I like the rain, I'm fine." Regina keeps her head forward.

"Are you sure? As captain it is my obligation to make sure everyone get's home safe."

"Oh my God, you have already said you hate me, would you MOVE ON you fucking lesbo." Regina yells.

"Great choice of words when you are trying to better yourself Regina." You clench your jaw, roll your window up, and speed off.

This was going to be one great year, you can just feel it.

Part 2 / Part 3

[sailorblossoms-rankane]

(Posting my threads on tumblr so I can talk to fellow Akane/Rankane enjoyers, part 3) (manga exclusive, I haven't seen the 80s anime)

One of the first things we learn about Akane is that she’s both violent and sweet. Both are true, and much can be said about her hair journey.

Akane’s violent side is immediately obvious while her sweet side is more apparent along the journey. She’s trusting and caring, even with people who have done nothing but wrong her (a mf will try to kill her and she’ll still be like “I feel sorry for them/I want to help them”)

Her sweet side is also introduced when she meets Ranma. She sees someone uncomfortable in an uncertain/awkward situation, and she’s the first to reach out and be welcoming.

Akane’s haircut is violent, brutal, and shocking. As shocking as Ranma entering her world. It happens during the first real fight Ranma has on page, and it's likely no coincidence. Something is off with long-haired Akane... with the cut, she enters Ranma’s world as her true self.

Akane’s long hair is tied to Akane trying to be like Kasumi: modest, calm, quiet. It’s Akane trying to be someone she’s not, because she wants to feel loved and wanted. If she likes a boy, she wants to be liked back (as opposed to disliked because she’s too "boyish")

When Akane crushes on the doc, that’s a girl used to being bothered and harassed by boys (boys who think “I can beat her into dating me”) fixating on a safe male figure because he makes her feel secure and cared for (literally treating her wounds)

(To contrast: Ranma being stronger isn’t “she must submit to me,” which is what was associated with a boy beating her... it's usually “I’m stronger so I want to look out for her/help her/protect her” and that part makes her feel secure and cared for)

Akane “changing herself” isn’t really about getting the doc to like her, but about Akane feeling judged and inadequate as her true "tomboy self," because even if she cuts her hair short she still likes being feminine… and she’s constantly told she’s not.

Just look at how she dresses. Other female characters might often wear pants (outside of the school uniform, Nabiki usually wears jeans and shorts for example) but Akane is rarely not wearing a cute little skirt or a dress. Calling her uncute pokes at a sore spot.

Changing herself doesn’t give her what she wants, it just reaffirms her insecurity (if you have to stop being yourself to feel accepted, are you really accepted?). When the doc says "short hair always did suit you better," it doesn’t make her happy because she doesn’t actually want him.

Part of why he’s safe is because he knows her just as she is and still never judges when others do. “Short hair always did suit you better" is also “you didn’t need to change yourself to be accepted, you were always fine just as you are.”

This is part of why she cries so hard and why afterward she’s immediately over him… she mourns what she felt and believed (and perhaps the effort it took, growing out a pixie is not for the weak lol) and is ready to turn the page. But the insecurity that sparked it all remains.

That Ranma preferring her short hair makes her smile is an early sign that he stirs something in her. It also says something important: he can tease and insult her all he wants, but he likes Akane just as she is

And that includes her violence. her anger and her fire. When Akane is upset and tries a cooler approach, Ranma won’t let her. he prefers Akane sending his ass flying than her ignoring him 100%

I think Ranma also likes Akane’s "specific brand" of violence, because everyone and their mom is violent here (including Nabiki… psychological violence if you will lol) and outside of challenges/battles he only seeks hers by teasing her, knowing how she’s going to react.

(everyone is a martial artist/violent but I think part of why Akane is clocked as more tomboy-ish is attitude. All the girls will use “their feminine charms,” even Ranma, but Akane will grab a fucker by the shirt, look at them in the eye and jut out her chin, and that's "masculine")

Akane wants to feel normal, she wants to be liked by the one she likes. she associates “you’re not normal” as a negative thing, as “you will be disliked”... even if Ranma means it as “Akane is tougher than a regular girl” (positive) that's not what she hears.

Kasumi means no harm, she knows Akane well and wants to look out for her. but that gives her words more impact, and Akane looks up to her as the ideal of femininity (she also only wears skirts and dresses) (Akane has likely heard this shit a lot too, she was cast as Romeo, etc)

Ranma knows he can be a jerk, but he genuinely doesn’t realize he's saying insensitive shit just when Akane is at her most sensitive... when she snaps, that’s her armor coming up to protect her heart (just like being a jerk can be armor for Ranma)

So Ranma hurts Akane's feelings without realizing (being a jerk is armor because his feelings are too big, too much for him, and he’s not ready to deal with them) but takes Akane's angry response as her hurting his feelings.

This causes the following pattern: Ranma “lifts Akane up,” telling her exactly what she needs to hear from him, soothing her insecurities… and then completely lets her down/disappoints her by telling her exactly what she doesn’t need to hear.

Look at Akane’s face. she could’ve accepted Ranma's apology and moved on. Instead, she’s vulnerable and ready to admit fault too... she’s touched by the idea of Ranma wanting to make up because he wants to be with her (but then he downplays it lol a word-class fumbler fr)

And... he doesn't realize he’s doing this! he doesn’t want to hurt her. whenever he realizes he hurt her he always wants to fix it, even if he doesn’t fully get what he did wrong or why Akane is mad and/or how to make it better.

But “lifting Akane up and then kicking her down” is the type of shit that makes Akane feel like she needs to protect her heart. In a way, Ranma’s armor (jerk) makes Akane’s come up and vice-versa, so neither can give in. It's part of why admitting feelings is very difficult

There’s also Ranma throwing easy “I love you’s” when he thinks it's a challenge with people he has no feelings for, but completely combusts when he realizes he said to the person he’s in love with. It’s too much for him and he’s not ready to admit it, so “he takes it back”

On Akane's side, she isn't unaffected by hearing the boy she loves confess and then "take it back"... even if she can be perceptive and understands Ranma’s shenanigans this sparks more insecurity (and then jealousy)

This contributes to Akane being quick to get angry & misunderstand certain situations, as she’s expecting Ranma to “let her down”/ has no confidence that he doesn’t want anyone else (besides Ranma being in “impossible not to misunderstand situations, for the bit”)

Akane being perceptive but her insecurities getting to her: she knows Ranma. She’s correct in her assessment that he fucked up and is hiding it. But doesn’t clock his deflection because damn, what if he actually wants someone else, what if they have something she doesn’t

But Akane always goes back to believing in him. Because even if he disappoints her, she understands that he's just not thinking, it's his ego, he doesn't mean it, the situation is too much for him to handle etc. And he never stops trying to make sure they’re on good terms.

Also, Ranma makes her feel safe and protected. She likes that he’s strong and never gives up. She knows she can count on him when it matters most (which is why she’s also his ride or die, goes both ways). It’s part of why when she’s jealous, she imagines Ranma protecting Nabiki.

It’s not something she thinks about consciously, but being the one Ranma wants to protect above everyone and all else is part of how Ranma shows his feelings for her, and on some level, she can tell… one of the first moments ranma makes her heart speed up is this

She likes that Ranma protects her and that she can count on him, but she never wants to be a burden or the reason he has to sacrifice something. just like how Ranma wants to protect her above all else, no one goes as far as she does for his sake (see also: the final arc)

Adding on the crush on the doc: just like this scene, it's likely that whenever Akane went to see him, her wounds weren't just physical. "I hate boys" is not something she means as she never treats anyone with hatred, but it's coming from a place of frustration/exhaustion.

Each daily challenge would be annoying by itself, but the repetitiveness of it all would wear her down. Note how she never goes "I hate boys" again after it stops. It's only just "I hate Ranma, specifically" because he hurt her... but she doesn't mean that either

Ranma's presence puts an end to those challenges, so he brings her peace in that sense. His world comes with craziness and dangers, but unlike the school challenges, this is something Akane chooses to face because she wants to support him.

Fighting annoying boys because you don't want to date them and fighting to support a loved one are completely different things. The former wears Akane down, while she's passionate about the latter. Just like how she counts on Ranma to protect her, she always wants to have his back.

[iamtired10]

PRINCESS TREATMENT

Pham Hanni x Female reader

Genre: fluff, kinda suggestive (?)

DESCRIPTION: Well, well, when you've got a wife who's not just adorable and pretty but also radiates heat, isn't it time she gets treated like the princess she is?

"Damn... damn..." you muttered under your breath, frustration evident in your tone as you maneuvered through the traffic as swiftly as possible. The clock was ticking, and you were late for the dinner date you had promised Hanni. Your busy week had kept you apart, and now, this delay was adding to the tension.

As you pulled up in front of your mansion, you couldn't shake off the feeling that Hanni might unleash her frustration when she saw you. The clock read 6:23 pm - way past the promised time of 6.

"Fuck, she's going to give me an earful," you whispered to yourself as you parked the car and hurriedly made your way into the mansion. The familiar greetings from maids and workers barely registered as you rushed towards the living room.

"LOVE!?" you called out as you spotted Hanni sitting on the couch, engrossed in whatever was playing on the TV.

As expected, she seemed to ignore your entrance.

Approaching her, you noticed her crossed arms and the serious, yet undeniably cute, expression on her face. Unable to suppress a smile at her adorable pout, you took a seat beside her.

"Hey, Han!" you greeted, attempting to touch her hand, only to have her pull away with a huff.

The pout on her face grew larger.

"Late again," she mumbled, her irritation evident.

You couldn't help but playfully tease, "Woohoo, look whose wife is looking so pretty hot today." Your gaze appreciatively lingered on her outfit, noting her undeniable allure.

"Shut up, moron," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "And I've always been pretty hot; you don't have to keep reminding me," she asserted confidently, crossing her arms once more.

"I am sorry, Han..." you apologized sincerely as you looked into her eyes.

"Sorry? Look, Lee Y/n, your sorry excuses won't cut it from now on, okay!? You're a certified moron... you're late again for our date. Gosh, Y/n, I hate seeing this side of you now! Don't you care about me, huh!? Did you marry me just to treat me like this!? All you do is focus on your business, never making time for me! I. Hate. You. Don't talk to me!!" She expressed her frustration, looking away.

You sighed, biting your lips, acknowledging your fault for being late.

"Hey, babe?" you called out, hoping to catch her attention, but she didn't turn.

"Hey, please look at me?" you implored, gently cupping her face to make her face you, but she rolled her eyes without meeting your gaze.

"Babe?" you said with a pout.

"Are you going to ignore me like that? Please, I promise you I won't do it again." You vowed, and she finally looked at you.

"You swear?" she questioned, searching your eyes for sincerity, and you nodded your head earnestly.

"I swear to my wife that I won't be late again," you declared as she playfully hit your head. "Why are you swearing on me!" She whined, adding a touch of humor to the situation.

"Okay, now please let me make it up to you." You requested, and she turned to face you.

She sighed, "Okay, but last chance. If you get late again, I might have to break your ass in two parts." She gave you a teasing yet stern warning look, and you nodded your head.

"Now, let's go," you said, getting up and holding out your hand for her to grab.

"...okay," she replied, smiling as she took your hand, and you both headed out, ready to make up for lost time.

After indulging in a delightful dinner, Hanni expressed her desire for a stroll in the nearby park. Without hesitation, you both made your way to the charming park.

As the two of you walked hand in hand, you couldn't help but admire your wife's elegance, feeling the need to compliment her.

"Wow, babe, you look like an absolute princess tonight," you remarked with a smile. Glancing at you, Hanni responded, "Well, I know it, but thanks."

"Alright, my princess," you said playfully, gently squeezing her hand. However, you couldn't help but notice her shivering. The evening air had turned cooler, and it seemed she had forgotten to bring a coat.

Smirking to yourself, you thought, "This woman," before pulling her hand away. Confused, Hanni looked at you as you took off your coat, draping it over her shoulders.

"Huh?" she mumbled, looking at the coat. "I noticed you were shivering, and I'm feeling pretty warm, so you can have the coat," you explained.

"Uh... thanks," she mumbled, a subtle blush gracing her cheeks. Adjusting the coat around her, she continued walking with you.

As you strolled through the park, you noticed her yawning. "Feeling tired?" you inquired, to which she nodded.

"Well then, let's head back home, my princess," you suggested, pulling her a bit closer as you made your way back to the car.

Upon reaching home, you both prepared to exit the car, but you had other plans.

"Hey, wait!" you exclaimed, and Hanni looked at you quizzically. "Let me open the door for you!" you insisted with determination.

She chuckled, remarking, "You're acting like I don't have hands or something."

"No, let me do it!" you insisted, swiftly making your way to open the passenger seat door for her.

As she stepped out, she teased, "Well, you don't have to do it, but thanks, though," prompting a chuckle from you.

"But babe, you deserve some princess treatment," you grinned, cupping her face and gently tracing her skin with your thumbs.

As you both entered the luxurious mansion, Hanni let out an audible groan.

"Ugh, fuck! These heels are killing me," she mumbled, clearly uncomfortable.

Concerned, you approached her. "Are you okay, Han?" you asked, noticing her discomfort.

"Yeah, but this damn heel is a torture device," she groaned, attempting to walk slowly.

A mischievous idea crossed your mind, and you swiftly picked her up in a bridal style.

"What the hell!" she yelped in surprise. "Why did you do that, you crazy woman? You scared the hell out of me!" she complained, though a hint of amusement played in her eyes.

"Okay, okay, princess. Let me rescue you from the clutches of this evil heel. I can't let my princess suffer," you said, carrying her toward your room. Climbing the stairs, you entered your room and gently placed her on the bed.

"There you go," you said, grinning at her. She looked at you, blushing slightly, and you couldn't help but smile. Then you kneel in front of her.

"Hey, what are you planning?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"Huh? Just rescuing you from the shoe tyranny," you replied, taking off her troublesome heel. "Oh, I thought you had something else in mind," she mumbled, blushing even more, and you chuckled.

"Well, now your imaginative mind might come true," you teased, stepping closer and cupping her face.

"Now, I believe it's time for my dessert since I skipped it during dinner," you announced with a playful glint in your eyes. Her expression shifted to surprise and anticipation.

"Have your dessert then," she said, looking at you. You couldn't resist caressing her cheek before giving her a sweet peck on the lips.

"Want more," she responded with a pout. "Does my princess desire more?" you asked, earning a nod from her.

And so, you indulged her with more sweetness.

The next morning, Hanni woke up to a feeling of slight fatigue and soreness, remnants of the delightful activities from the previous night. Glancing behind her, she noticed your absence in bed.

"Typical, that moron never changes," she groaned, scratching her nape. Getting out of bed, something caught her eye.

"Oh my god..." she thought, walking closer to the table adorned with roses and a sparkling diamond ring.

"The fuck..." she mumbled under her breath, then spotted a small note placed next to the gifts. Curiosity led her to pick it up.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

My baby princess,

wanted to surprise you with a little something, but let's be honest—you deserve the whole damn universe. i'll be home early today, so get yourself ready, babe. i've got plans to spoil you silly, in ways you can't even imagine. get excited, my beautiful princess. oh and don’t forget, i’m head over heels for you :P

see you soon, and remember... it's gonna be a night to remember. mwah mwah!

yours always,

Lee Y/n.

[mademoisellekeery]

\\ Red dress & a black tie //

• Pairing: Co-worker!Steve Harrington x Reader

•Warnings: Swearing, fluff, proof read

•Word count: 1.5k - (1,563 words)

•Summary: Your Co-Worker/Friend, Steve asks you out on a date, after crushing on him for years, and finally “getting over it”, what could go wrong?

•Au/n: THIS IS MY FIRST FIC PEACHES! I’m so excited to post this, let me know if you guys like it and want another part, I do plan on writing part two but feedback would really help!! I did proof read this, multiple times, but if there are any mistakes please let me know! Love love yous, cya in the next one!

You weren't a fool when it came to dating, but you weren't that experienced either. Boys hardly noticed you in High school, and it wasnt any different after. So it surprised you when HE asked you out.

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ

It was the afternoon, and you were 2 hours into your shift at Family Video. Well it wasn't YOUR shift, but Robin had asked you to cover for her since she had a date with Vickie, and after all the late night sleepovers you had with robin where she talked about her crush on vickie, non stop might i add, you couldn’t say no, especially when she spent 3 hours trying to reason with you. It’s not like you had any plans but you were looking forward to the perfect afternoon spent in your sweatpants and hoodie, watching whatever crap is on the television and ordering a pizza but I guess it had to wait.

Maybe the rest of the afternoon wouldn’t be a total bust, Steve was on shift with you and he was always fun to talk to. You were good friends with Steve, well as much as a co-worker can be. There was the odd occasion you’d see each other outside work like running into each other at the grocery store, the mall, or that time robin invited you to watch a movie but little did you know, she also invited steve, which was a little embarrassing since you wore your my little pony pajamas and he wouldn’t let that go for 3 months..

You were practically counting down the seconds till you could leave work, which felt like an ETERNITY! you know what they say, a watched pot never beeps, or was it clock?.. you shook your head discarding your thoughts, maybe you could put your time to use, so you thought you’d go check in on steve. You walked out the manager's office almost tripping over a box of VHS tapes. “Steve!” you called out. This was supposed to be put back hours ago.. you thought to yourself. You called out again when Steve didn’t answer, “Steve! I need you to put the VHS’s back, that was your job.” you huffed as you picked the heavy box up, carrying over to the counter, rifling through it.

As you were sorting through the box, practically doing Steve's job for him, you heard something fall behind you. Whipping your head around, you saw nothing, nothing but a knocked over pile of tapes, did steve just quit his job mid way through? Why is everything out? you decided not to question it too much, picking the fallen tapes off the floor when you heard a noise behind you, before you could turn around someone had their hands on your waist, picking you up and spinning you around, you let out a shriek when the person put you down you turned around, it was steve!

“You asshole! what was that for?” You punched him in the arm, the annoyance in your voice doing a poor job of hiding the fear as steve laughed.

“You should’ve seen your face.” he continued to mock you. You stood there with your arms crossed and a sour look. He cleared his throat, “m’sorry, i thought you could use a little entertainment, i know you love horror movies.” he smirked.

You couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he turned on his signature Harrington charm, it would always ignite a fire under that silly crush of yours.

“Yeah I like watching them, not being in them.” You said, swatting his arms away from you. “And why haven’t you done any work? you know Keith is going to fire your ass." Deciding to switch topics you remembered why you came out here in the first place, and almost tripped over Steve's mess. “I’ll put them away, I just wanted to have a little fun.” he pouted.

“Okay well you and your birds nest of a hair can have fun, over there by the Rom-Com section, putting all these tapes away.” I say giving him a shit-eating grin.

“You know you scream like a girl.” He said, deciding he wasn’t done humiliating you about the situation.

“That’s because i am one Sherlock.” you rolled your eyes, picking up the box from the counter and heading towards the office, when you tripped over something, causing the box to go flying, and you almost falling flat on your face, almost. You looked up and Steve had caught you, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly. “Shit are you okay?” His voice was laced with concern.

“I’m fine, s’fine. I couldn’t see where I was going.” you looked everywhere but him, feeling too embarrassed to meet his gaze. His strong scent clouding your mind, you forgot you were still in his arms, he was still holding you. You stood up properly, pushing yourself away from steve. “Thank you.” You muttered.

“It’s really no problem.” He felt slightly guilting, seeing what you tripped over, it was some of the VHS tapes he left out. “Your lucky i was there to catch you.” a smile started crawling on his face, oh boy, it started getting to his ego.

“Oh yeah, thanks Prince Charming.” You roll your eyes, but he could see through your harsh demeanour.

“Prince charming? That’s new. Do you happen to like princes?” He smirked.

Flirting wasn’t new between you and Steve, it happened quite a lot actually but you knew the type of person he was, so you just went along with it. You had an odd relationship with Steve, as much as you were “friends”, he always flirted with you and called you pet names like honey, princess, sweetheart and every time when he called you those names you’d get a weird feeling in your stomach, almost butterfly like..

When you first started working at Family Video you couldn’t believe you were working with non other then ‘King Steve’.

“Oh yeah definitely, especially ones with GREAT hair.” You said enthusiastically with a foreign smile.

“So you don’t actually hate my hair then?” He questioned, letting out a laugh.

“Who said I hated it? So what if I still think it looks like a beehive.” You muttered that last part but he still heard it, pretending to be offended by it.

“Ouch princess, that one hurt.” Stumbling backwards and holding his hand over his heart like he was shot, though he quickly let up on his whole act.

“Who knew Prince Charming had an ego that bruised like a peach?” You spat out, you were kind of enjoying this little thing you had going on, it was fun teasing him.

“Looks like even fairy tales have their flaws. Despite my “bruised ego”, how about we turn the page and clock out early?”

“And why would the Prince do that?” You said

Steve raises his eyebrow, leaning more forward, giving a smirk, he is felt a lot more confident. “Oh, well maybe this prince thinks this princess is cute and maybe this prince wants to… I don’t know, take her out or something tonight?”

You stand there, stunned. Your face turns into a tomato. That weird butterfly like feeling coming back..

“You want to take me out? like a date? like a date date? like a date where we sit opposite each other, sharing a milkshake, end of the night kiss, kind of date?” You say rambling, you knew Steve in high school, well you knew of him, I mean who didn’t right? He was THE king of Hawkins High, and every girl (and a few guys) had a crush on him, that included you too, but it was a silly girl crush. (A silly girl crush that was still there.)

The famous King Steve who dated girls like Nancy wheeler or Tammy Thompson, so why the hell was he asking you?

Steve chuckles as his heart races, little did you know this was the day he’d been waiting for awhile now. He had been waiting for the perfect time to ask you out. He’s had a crush on you for months now and he had to do something about it.

“Yes, I want to take you on a date date. Yes to the sitting opposite each other, yes to the milkshake, yes to the kiss, yes to everything.” Steve smirked, as he leaned back on the counter, crossing his arms, he hoped you’d say yes.

He may not have noticed you in high school but he definitely noticed you when you started working here, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You’d often catch him staring, or you’d get a feeling you were being looked at and as you’d turn your head towards Steve, his head was move away from you, like he was looking.

He felt like such an idiot for not noticing you in high school because you were beautiful, then again, he didn’t want you to know that version of him, the version that would probably sleep with you and never talk to you again. He wanted to treat you right, wanted you to know him now, the better version.

Your heart races in tandem with Steve's admission. The air seems charged with a mix of excitement and anticipation. "Well then," you reply with a playful grin, "I guess I can make time in my schedule for a date date. But, just so we're clear, this isn't some fairy tale, and you're not Prince Charming." You give him a teasing look, secretly thrilled that Steve, the once unattainable figure from high school, is asking you out.

———-

[gtsdreamer2]

Ever since your dad walked out on your family, you felt like you had a responsibility to your mom and sister to be the man of the house. You worked hard, studied hard, went to college while working a job that helped pay the bills, and it all paid off. You used your degree to dive into the tech industry and become a great inventor. Some of your inventions were taking off, and you were finally starting to see the fruits of your labor. That also meant that you could delegate some of your work to others now, which granted you enough free time to be able to work on pet projects and spoil your girlfriend, Katy. Sometimes, those two things coincided.

After a few tireless weeks of working 'round the clock in secret, you had finally finished your girlfriend's present. She was a retro soul with a 70s aesthetic, so you made her a special lava lamp. It was special because you had engineered some of your new tech into it. Katy had always had a waifish figure since you had known her, which, although you loved her just the same for it, made her very self-conscious both in the bedroom and out in public. The lamp that you had produced just for her was designed to emit special waves of energy to both grow her lacking assets and instill confidence in her, both through temporary mental manipulation and a renewed pride in her physical appearance.

You finally got home with your new toy when you got a ping on your phone to go out for drinks with your boys. 'What the hell, why not? I've been working my ass off. I deserve this.' you thought to yourself, setting the lamp on the kitchen counter before quickly changing and speeding off to the bars. Slamming the door as your left, you woke your sleeping mom, Cindy.

She came downstairs and into the kitchen and spotted the lamp on the counter. "Well this is cool. I haven't seen one of these in years!" She said, picking it up and examining it. "I bet Jake got it for me since my birthday is coming up. He definitely wouldn't have gotten this for himself. I'm so excited to set it up. It'll make a nice night light." Your mom scampered back up the stairs with the lamp and a glass of water in hand. She quickly downed her refreshment and plugged in the lamp, setting it on the dresser on the far side of the room before switching it on.

As it heated up, a warm glow filled the room. "Wow, it's giving off a lot of heat. I probably won't be able to use this in the summer, but its very comforting right now. As the lamp got hotter, so did your mom as she got cozy in bed. She dozed off while staring at the lamp's memorizing lava bubbles.

She couldn't remember her dreams, but they must have been wonderful. Cindy awoke with her panties soaked and wedged tightly against herself. She moaned and stretched, feeling a strange tightness all across her sleepwear. As she tossed and turned, trying to get her clothes to adjust, her nipples brushed the soft fabric of her PJs and elicited another, more sexual moan from her lips. She hadn't felt this turned on in years. It was like a long dormant fire had been lit. Turning on her side, Cindy put her legs around one of the extra pillows on the bed and started to aggressively hump herself to climax, biting her blanket to stifle her whimpers of pleasure all the while. Her sensitive nipples ached to be teased as she bucked. She eagerly obliged them as she snaked a hand under her top. She was so lost in her trance that she almost didn't realize that she was grabbing more breast than she should have had. Cindy was far too lost in pleasure at that moment as she humped and groped her sensitive body until she finally came hard into the pillow that she was abusing.

Sweat-speckled and panting, she finally released the poor pillow, covered with the evidence of your mom's much needed release. 'That was amazing.' She thought to herself, still trying to collect herself as she stood up from the bed. Her clothing still felt wrong on her as she made her way to the full body mirror in the bathroom.

As she looked herself up and down in the mirror, her jaw dropped. Her tits had grown. Her ass had plumped. Her head was slightly outside the frame of the mirror which was never an issue before this moment. "This is a lot." She said to herself, trying to take it all in. "I'm...a lot. I need coffee."

Cindy forced her soaked panties off her and discarded them into her laundry bin. She replaced them with a fresh pair that seemed to strain against the might of her new rear, but they fit, for now. A bra was out of the question, so she threw on a sweater by itself and then a part of leggings that couldn't cover her ankles and made her ass perk even higher. Checking herself out in the mirror again, she felt a wave of confidence as she tossed her sex hair from side to side. "I feel amazing this morning." She whispered before heading downstairs.

You awoke on your friend's couch, your natural body clock telling you that it was time to get up for work. "Shit." You cursed under your breath. You must have gotten too wasted last night. You pulled yourself together and got your things as quick as you could. You checked your phone and realized that you wouldn't have time to go home and would have to go straight to work. You wouldn't be home until late either. Sighing, you forced yourself out of your friend's house and into your car and then off to work.

Your sister came downstairs to find your mom humming to herself while doing the morning chores. She was loading the dishwasher, finishing breakfast, and sipping her coffee. She seemed different. Not just happier and peppier, but less...mom-like. She couldn't put her finger on it. "You're in a good mood this morning." She said. Sitting down to be served. Cindy quickly placed the spread before her.

"I know!" Your mom beamed back at your sister, Destiny, sitting down with her own, overloaded plate of food. "I feel amazing this morning." She dug into her breakfast, far more ravenously than she normally would have. She blamed it on the calories burned from touching herself that morning, conveniently trying to block out the obvious answer, which was that her increased assets caused the calorie deficit. Destiny sat there in disbelief of Cindy as the massive plate of food disappeared. She had no time to gawk as she had to get her things and get to her classes, however. Destiny said her goodbyes and left your mom home alone and to her own devices.

After clearing her plate and helping herself to everything that was leftover, she finally felt satisfied. She continued with her daily chores, cleaning around the house, vacuuming, tidying up the bathroom, normal motherly duties. Around midday, she finally started to feel sluggish and tired and returned to her room for an afternoon nap. That's when she remembered the lamp. "Oops" she said to no one. "I forgot to turn this off. Reaching for the lamp, she felt the warmth kiss her fingers before moving up her arm and then through her chest. Her nipples awoke and grew hard, pressing against her already too tight top. Instead of turning the lamp off, she instead put both her hands on it and lifted it up, holding it close to her chest. The warm feeling that had already started to completely envelop her intensified and she cooed at the feeling filling her body. As her body drank in the heat that was radiating from her new luminant gift, she could feel herself growing. Suddenly her nether regions had started to produce a heat of their own and she was reminded of the fun that she had gotten to have with herself that morning. Cindy then had a devilish idea. She unplugged the lamp from the outlet on the far wall and replugged it into the one by her nightstand. Peeling off her shrinking clothing, she crawled into bed and switched the lamp back on She sat with her back resting up against the headboard and her legs spread open and her feet touching In the center she placed the lamp, mere inches from her hungry snatch. Then as she was basking in the glow, she again began to pleasure herself. Cindy had no need to hold back her cries and moans in an empty house, so as she rubbed her needy clit, she wailed in ecstasy for the first time in countless years. Orgasm after orgasm shook through her as her growing body continued to become more and more sensitive.

"Fuck!" she cried out as another climax and subsequent growth spurt rattled through her. "Why does this feel so good? I just want more and more and more! There's no way this should be happening." Not that she was keeping track of how big she was growing, but she had long left the six foot mark behind. If she had kept her clothing on, it would have started ripping itself apart from her body by now. Groping her giant tits, she couldn't help but smile. "These have grown so huge! So big and sensitive! And my nipples!" She tugged on each of them in turn then, not daring to take a hand away from her needy needy cunt. With each buck of her hips, she could feel her feet sliding further and further towards the edge of the bed and then beyond as her head pressed up against and then crept up the headboard. She could feel her pillowy ass jiggle and bounce against the bed as her leg muscles continued to thicken. After what felt like her twentieth finish, her body was finally satisfied and she passed out, the lamp tipping forward and delicately landing between her lips. As she slept, the energy from the lamp poured into her, forcing her bigger and bigger in her sleep.

Work finally ended and you were heading home. You felt behind the whole day and had hardly a moment to yourself to think. Throwing your keys on the counter, they landed right where the lamp should have been. Immediately you were wide awake, mind racing. 'I forgot all about the lamp, fuck.' You thought frantically. 'There's no way that someone plugged it in right?' You crept down the hall to your sister's room first. Slowing cracking open her door, nothing seemed out of place. You gave a sigh of relief and shut her door.

Next came your mom's room. As you quietly opened her door, your heart immediately sank. She was naked in her bed and at least eight feet tall by now. Both hands gripping the lamp as she rhythmically humped against it in her sleep. You were horrified, but it was also hard to look away. Her body was producing dangerous pheromones, just like the lamp was designed to do. Luckily, you knew this and were conscious of them. As you snuck up to the side of her bed, the pheromones grew stronger. You quickly unplugged the lamp and the room darkened slightly, now only lit from the setting sun outside. You held your breath as you slipped the lamp out of her hands, careful not to wake her. Exiting the room, you finally let out a frustrated sigh and an audible "fuck" as your sister was closing the front door.

"Woah, what's the problem?" She said, immediately noticing that something was off. She set her school stuff down and walked over to you.

"It's mom. She took this" You said gesturing to the lamp in your hands "and now she's like eight feet tall."

"Well that's...something" Your sister says, clearly lost. "What's 'this'" she said pointing to what looked to her like a relic from the 70s.

"'This' is a present for Katy, but I had to run off to work this morning after being out all night. I guess mom took it to bed and plugged it in." You let out another exasperated sigh. "Katy is on her way here right now to come pick this up, but I need to go back to my lab to get what I need to fix mom. Hopefully before she wakes up. Can I trust you to hold onto it while I'm gone and give it to my girlfriend? I don't need mom waking up and using it again. It seems like it can get pretty addicting pretty quickly based on her size. Maybe it works a little too well. I think I'll grab some supplies to recalibrate it for Katy before I let her use it." You were talking to yourself at this point.

"I don't really know what's going on since she seemed pretty normalish this morning, but sure bro!" She said eager to help. "I promise I wont let mom use it while you're gone. You should hurry though, I don't know how long she's been asleep. And if she's eight feet tall, I don't think I'd be able to stop her anyway. You better fix this."

You pushed the lamp into her arms and quickly left for your lab, leaving your sister alone with your sleeping colossus of a mother. Setting the lamp on the counter, your sister crept over to your mom's room and cracked the door open. "Holy shit," she whispered, "she's huge!" Silently closing the door, Destiny quickly scooped the lamp up and brought it to her room, where she promptly undressed and plugged it into her nightstand. Sitting on her bed, she held the lamp between her petite breasts as it began to produce heat. "Come on, come on. I don't have much time before Katy gets here. I wanna grow, too. Make me bigger!"

[dreamwreaver]

I completely agree, Vaggie and Charlie are really each other's antithesis and it's executed BADLY. The show doesn't do anything meaningful with their differences, if anything, it makes it starker. Their communication is terrible, they are not at all in sync with each other's needs and the only time they ever got actual development was when they separated to seek help for the battle with the exorcist, in which, they had more chemistry with their respective mentors than they ever had with each other (I honestly ship Vaggie and Carmilla a little after their spar, like come on, one time Carmilla lets her hair down, an act of vulnerability in some cultures, was with Vaggie and Vaggie also got her wings back after that fight too. Not to mention, they had a whole ass song together despite not meeting yet before the Chaggie song and has plus points for being original unlike Chaggie's song so Vamilla/Battleangel is a decent ship for me.)

Vaggie may say that she'll do anything for Charlie but she sure as hell won't let Charlie sing and have a deal with the same guy she had a deal back in episode 1. She also seems to forgot that her girlfriend is a grown-ass woman who can thrive on without her while she can't because she thinks she's worth nothing without Charlie. It's sad, really.

I'm honestly curious on what you'd discuss further on how Vaggie would have never let Charlie in but Charlie didn't think to knock, can you please share?

Ngl, while it's not an s-tier ship for me because I do adore zestmilla, battle angel is indeed an underrated pairing and tbh? At the very least Vaggie deserved to have an obsessive lesbian crush on Carmilla. I know it was allegedly planned for her to have an obsession with weapons and it got cut for time or other reasons. Whatever, more stripping of Vaggie's character and turning her into a bland nonentity so she doesn't compete for attention with literally everyone else.

As for your question; I would like to refer back to Charlie's rant at Alastor during their cannibal town date. No I will not be taking arguments on that, that's precisely what it was.

"Three years, three YEARS I've been sharing my life with her and I tell her EVERYTHING! My hopes, my dreams, my insecurities, my embarrassing habits, what fucking DEODORANT I like! And she keeps something, like THIS from ME! Why would she lie for so long? Did she think I wouldn't accept her? What about me, ME, says un-understanding?"

And if you watch her body language during this whole rant it's less emotional hurt and more... ego hurt? Like, this whole upset has gone from "the person I love and trust more than anything has been lying to me about who they are," to, "I share everything about myself with her and should have been entitled to this information."

And yeah, I get it, she was made to look incredibly stupid in front of a heavenly council right before being blasted back to Hell with an entire exorcist army aimed right at her front door. Anyone might be justifiably upset that such important info was kept from them. But as Carmilla literally says not ten minutes later, "You have a giant X over your eye and wield an angelic spear, it's not rocket science."

So Carmilla was able to take literally ONE look at Vaggie and clock her origins? Going further, depending on how you interpret Lucifer's gaze in Dad Beat Dad upon meeting Vaggie it's entirely possible HE clocked her as angelic too. And yet, the person who spends the most time around her somehow couldn't connect those dots? Charlie's optimistic but she's not dumb. She's got a naive understanding of sinners and how best to incite change but to miss something like THAT? I don't buy that Vaggie would have been able to keep that secret so easily if Charlie had been paying as much attention to her partner as any good and healthy relationship should.

But let's backtrack a bit. The notion that Vaggie's off emotionally is established all the way back in episode 3. Remember when Charlie's trying to get the others psyched about trust exercises and Vaggie shows a considerable lack of enthusiasm? What was the first thing out of Charlie's mouth after that? Is it, "hey you seem like you've got something on your mind; are you okay?"

Nope! It's a very embarrassed/annoyed, "Vaggie, we rehearsed this!"

After which she proceeds to blindside Vaggie with the news that she's the one who's going to be leading the trust unit that day. Wow, for all they rehearsed this pitch Vaggie sure seems left out of the loop on it doesn't she? When Vaggie tries to explain without explaining that she's neither qualified nor comfortable about this decision does Charlie say, "well okay then, but if you change your mind just let me know,"? Wrong again! She just says, "It's easy I'm sure you can handle this."

And again, Vaggie is both unprepared and uncomfortable and also unable to say no to Charlie so she defaults into her military training and starts speaking to them like a commanding officer would to their troops. And I don't blame her for that, we tend to fall back on emulating behavior we've seen when we don't know how to cope with something. When trust falls don't work, Charlie tries to retake control but Vaggie puts on a brave face and says she has it when she clearly doesn't. As chaotic shenanigans ensue Vaggie grows more and more desperate but somehow it isn't until she's literally chucking people off a roof that Charlie figures this has gone too far. Not to mention she's incredibly surprised that COMBAT is how Vaggie learned to trust people. Forgive me if I'm wrong but you've been her partner for three years by later admission and you DIDNT know she came from a military background?

Not to mention Vaggie spells it all out in black and white, "I took charge today and it all went sideways. I'm supposed to make your dreams a reality. I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to never fail you" followed by, "If I can't help you, what's the point of me?"

Vaggie has serious issues with self worth, demonstrated here. And while I get Charlie is trying to respect boundaries to a certain point I cannot imagine that were I in her shoes I would leave my partner thinking that if they couldn't be useful they shouldn't be with me. And while to her credit Charlie does apologize, it feels a little pointless when the very next episode she's back to just ignoring what Vaggie says. Even then, that apology doesn't do much to address the real root of the issue. They work as a team? When and where is that EVER demonstrated? It's not a reassurance that Vaggie doesn't NEED to have some demonstrable use for Charlie to want to be with her. And even if it was Vaggie has already struck at the heart of their problem; she wants to be Charlie's armor AND her partner, but those positions cannot work in tandem. Because wanting to be someone's armor assumes they need protecting, and again I state, Charlie is a grown ass woman and one of the most powerful beings in all of hell. She was smart enough to avoid making a deal with Alastor in the pilot, why does Vaggie assume that Charlie NEEDS protecting? And a partner infers a level of equality that just isn't demonstrated in what we see of their relationship. There is no give and take with them supporting each other equally. It's vaggie either trying to draw blood from a stone to meet Charlie's unrealistic expectations, or Vaggie telling Charlie to alter core elements of her personality to appease her own subjects. And on the flip side; where does Charlie support Vaggie in anything resembling the way Vaggie supports Charlie?

Charlie pushed for Vaggie to come to Heaven with her because that was what SHE wanted. Even when Vaggie expressed her reluctance to go Charlie pushed and Vaggie folded even as she knew what ended up happening was a very real possibility. Why?

For all his bloodthirsty nature Alastor knows the political game way better than Vaggie does. Vaggie couldn't keep her shit together when Emily was just holding Charlie's hands and being friendly. That's not the type of partner a political figure should have, and whether she likes it or not as princess of hell Charlie's interwoven with the politics of hell. Being power hungry means Alastor has the genuine best advice for Charlie when it comes to handling bigwigs like the angels. And he's someone with an actual business interest in the hotel. Imagine someone asking him why he helps when he doesn't believe in redemption; and he tells them it's because he believes in Charlie. You don't hand someone the source of most of your power so easily if you do not have a sincere and earnest level of trust in them. And yet Al does it willingly, more than once.

I want to say that I don't hate Charlie or Vaggie. I just don't think they work well as a pairing because Vaggie gives too much and Charlie's more concerned with her people than her partner. And the lack of communication between the two of them is a real issue. Again, Vaggie might never have let Charlie in, but Charlie never thought to knock. She never thought to ask about Vaggie in any way that would suggest the sort of deep emotional love that the show so desperately wants us to believe they have.

And on some level, I think a good portion of the fandom feels it too. Seriously, run the numbers some time on just AO3; filter for the Chaggie tag, and then take out every other ship that those stories are actually about. The chaggie tag is filled with stories that are about someone else's relationship because beneath the surface there's nothing there.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for yelling at my mom because she micromanages my shits?

so my (20X) mom (53F) has been on my case about how long i poop for years. ive had tons of gastrointestinal issues so we went to a specialist, i've gotten a colonoscopy and an endoscopy and we still don't know whats wrong with me. there are times when for seemingly no reason at all i get insane diarrhea to the point where it feels like pissing out of my ass, and then times where im constipated and it takes me thirty minutes just to shit out a few tiny pebble sized shits. it sucks.

aside from the pain that the shitting itself causes, its also really disruptive to my schedule. even if i carve out some extra time in my schedule in anticipation for a shit, sometimes i'll still go over my schedule and then i'm late for class. this is where my mom comes in. she's really big about punctuality because me and my sibling are chronically late people who sleep in etc. so she started setting a timer on the kitchen oven whenever i announced i was going to poop (she also expects me to announce when im pooping so she knows where i am). i think she gave me like 15 minutes?

i didnt expect to make it in time so i figured i would just let the timer go off long enough for my mom to turn it off out of annoyance (the timer is extremely obnoxious and loud). but of course she was too stubborn for that so it was just blaring until i gave up and wrapped up my shit.

i basically yelled at her that my shitting time isnt really within my control (i can like. temporarily pause shitting like i did to turn off the timer this time, its just not good to hold it in) and that its ridiculous for her to expect me to work like a clock when specialists can't even figure out what's wrong with me. she keeps insisting that if the shit doesnt come out in the first ten minutes i should just give up and try again later. the problem is the shits are spread out over a long period of time which is why i have to stay in there so damn long.

she thinks im being inconsiderate of her time (she cant ask me for help or talk to me about anything important if im in the bathroom).

so am i the asshole for taking forever to shit?

What are these acronyms?

[v7knp]

Telapath [a.a]

a/n: fluff, coworker romance, idk what else chapter one. mindreader, reader!x loser!abby (this is also kinda long, srry)

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

Ever since you were young, you could tell what someone was thinking. You knew by looking at them and focusing on their inner thoughts.

It's been both a gift and a curse. Having to hear people disgusting thoughts, but you also got to know what people really thought.

You knew it was wrong to intrude on people's privacy so you usually tried to ignore people's thoughts, but sometimes you get bored so why not?

No one knew not even your best friend, Dina. You wanted to tell her, but you thought it would freak her out, so you kept your mouth shut.

You're now a retail worker, it's actually pretty fun, and easy. How could it be hard? All you do is fold, cash customers out, and get breaks, etc.

But today was different, there was a new hire. She was tall, and muscualar, and so fucking bueatiful. Her name was Abby Anderson.

Your manager asked you to train her, you instantly said yes.

Your manager meet you two and you went to the cashier to train her.

Her first thought when you two meet was

"Holy shit she's pretty"

"Hi, I'm y/n, and you're obviously Abby" you giggled. She just let out a breathy laugh and a "Yeah".

"Umm, okay I guess I'll show you how to work this" you smiled.

She was looking down at you as you were explaning all the buttons which opened the drawer, and which told you how much money to give back, etc.

But she wasnt paying attention, a million thoughts were running through her head.

"She smells so good, like vanilla"

"She has such a pretty smile"

"Oh shit, what did she just say? I wasn't even paying attention"

"Sorry could you.. um repeat that I didnt hear you?" she had spoken up.

"Oh yeah" you said, knowing why she couldnt hear you.

You finished training her, and went back to work. Like 45 minutes later she came up to you.

"Y/n?" She seemed nervous. "Yeah?" you asked looking up at her. "You okay?" you said after a moment of silence.

"Oh.. uh.. yeah, how do you take the security tags off?"

"Oh duh, shit I totally forgot about that, sorry, I'll show you." you walked up with her, a customer was on the other side of the counter.

"Okay, so you just use this tool, and you just pop it off" you looked up and smiled at her, watching her try.

"Her smile is so nice"

"Alright, come get me if you need me agian"

after the course of a couple weeks and listening in on Abby's thoughts, you knew how she felt, and you felt the same.

You were clocking into work in the morning, and when you turned around when you finished, you bumped into Abby.

You had accidentaly spilt her coffee, and it got on her white shirt "Oh shit, Abs I'm sorry, I'll help you clean up" you said

"Does it hurt?" you questioned seeing if she was burned. She seemed to have a dull reaction.

"Abby, I jusy spilt hot ass water on you, are you okay?" You said sternly, trying to get her attention.

"Y-yeah no I'm fine" abby said blandly, you could tell she seemed off.

"Did it sound like I didn't care she was trying to help me?"

"Hope not"

You dragged her to the bathroom, and helped her clean up, her shirt was still wet though and very see through.

You could see every muscle, from her slightly coverd bicep, to her abs, down to her pants line.

You were starring and once you realized you've been starring for too long, you looked back up to see a pink face.

"U..um do you have an extra shirt?" Abby said with a slight shake in her voice.

"No, just use one from the store, no one will notice" you chuckled dryly.

It's now your lunch break, and Abby's about to go on hers.

"Hey Abs, so since I spilt your coffee on you this morning, I'll go buy you another one... If.. if you want" you said on the customer side of the counter.

"Oh my god, is she asking me on a date?"

"Should I ask if it's a date, no it'll werid her out"

"Abs?" you asked her obviously hearing her thoughts, you still needed the okay.

"Yes, yeah I'll go with you" she said with a big smile.

"Did I sound too excited about it, shit, I hope I didnt"

"Okay cool, finish here and I'll come back here to pick you up" you smiled and walked away.

moments later after getting ready to go out, you walk up to the counter, you guys went to the coffee shop down the street.

As you two are walking down the road, talking and laughing, you hear more thoughts rushing into Abbys pretty head.

"Her laugh is so nice"

"I wonder how she feels about me... Should I ask, no, what if she doesnt feel the same and I embarrass myself?"

"So who do you listen to?" you say "like music" you continued on not knowing if she knew what you ment.

"I listen to a little bit of everything, like umm Noah Kahan"

"I'm gonna be up front with you I don't know who that is" you said chuckling.

"It's okay, not to many people do" she says sarcastically.

"Oh so that makes you mysterious?"you joked and Abby laughed.

You guys made it to the coffee shop, and each got a coffee.

"Do you have a favorite genre of movies?" you asked trying to spark a convo.

"Yeah, I like comidies, you?"

"I love horror movies" you said excitedly.

She laughed and you two finished your lunch break and headed back to the store, finished your shifts and clocked out.

On the way out, you heard footsteps behind you, you turned around and saw Abby.

"Hey Abs, what's up?"

"Um so me and my friends are having a little get- together or party or whatever you wanna call it, do you umm, mabye wanna come?"

"Yeah I'd love to I have zero plans tonight anyways"

"Well if I'm going anywhere I'm gonna need your number to go" you said as a tactic to get her number.

"Yeah, yeah, here" she said unlocking her phone.

"was this a way to get my number? That was so sly"

"Okay well send me the address and I'll be there." you smiled.

[sebuckyverse]

for a good time, call

modern!rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

Eddie Munson is a burnt out rockstar, touring the country. When he finds a phone number written on a bathroom wall, he strikes an unusual friendship with a coffee shop barista who has no idea who he is.

warnings: 18+ cussing, eventual smut if i'm horny, steve harrington, none yet, strangers to friends to lovers <3 word count: 3,4k

an: Y'ALL idk what this is but i had this idea when i woke up from a bomb ass nap! tagging my bestie @hellfirewhore because she helped me so much with this, love u bub. also @ceriseheaven because she's obsessed with me. also i apologize for the Steve Harrington girlies

chapter two ♫ masterlist

chapter one ♫♪♩·..·

With a heavy sigh, Eddie slips into the bathroom of a restaurant, the name of which he cannot even remember. It’s barely 6pm and he’s already two drinks in, cursing himself for agreeing to this meeting at all when he could’ve just been a dick and said no, but like someone once close to him used to say, he is a people pleaser. He closes his eyes for a minute before pushing off the door and heading to the furthest stall, locking himself in and sitting down without taking his pants off. He didn’t really need to go, this was just an excuse to escape giving the answers his shitty manager is waiting for him to give.

It’s nearing the end of Corroded Coffin’s summer tour “Live from the Upside Down”. With only 7 shows left, it’s safe to say the tour was a massive success. Tickets were sold out, fans were lining the streets and Eddie couldn’t blink without a camera going off somewhere. It’s what he wanted, dreamed of ever since he was in middle school and he was proud of himself for realizing his dream, specially when in high school, he thought about quitting. The fans are already asking about a new tour or a new album - they aren’t the only ones. Management is also on board, hoarding Eddie about new songs or if they could extend the tour, it’s good business after all. That’s all it seems to be about recently - money, publicity, instagram likes. It didn’t use to be like this, it was good when they blew up and signed with their record label but thinking back, it was too good to be true.

Eddie doesn’t have an answer to anybody. He hasn’t written anything new in weeks and his relationship with the band is strained, he doesn’t remember the last time he actually enjoyed being on stage. So as he sits on the toilet rubbing his eyes, the bags under his eyes blue and purple, he’s trying to find another excuse to his manager waiting by the table to why they definitely shouldn’t jump right into another album. Once he has stretched out the minutes to a quick bathroom run as far as he could, he stands back up and stretches his legs. Eddie does a double take when before stepping out, he notices some text written on the stall door, followed by numbers.

“For lousy head, call Y/N.”

.•♫•♬•

For what felt like the hundredth time today, your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Ignoring it, like you have done for the past two days, you continued packing blueberry muffins into a perfectly folded cardboard box, slapping a thank you sticker on top and pushing it to the side next to a few other to-go boxes. The clock was pushing 7pm and you were counting down the minutes until your shift was over, thankful that you had the next two days off to relax and turn off your fucking phone.

You don’t know what happened, but yesterday afternoon you started getting incredibly weird and vulgar messages and phone calls from unknown numbers. After consulting with your best friend last night, you didn’t reply to a single text and ignored the phone calls after you already answered one, where a guy asked for a blowjob.

“How did this happen?” Your best friend and co-barista Robin asked.

“You’re asking me! I have no idea!” you shrieked back at your phone, looking at her through the Facetime app.

“Have you signed up for anything weird lately?”

“Like what? You’re making it seem like I leaked my own number.”

“Well, someone clearly did.”

You chewed on your thumb as you rewinded the event of the last week. One thing did pop up, something that made your stomach churn. “You don’t think Steve would do this?”

“Uh, yeah! That guy is an asshole and the only thing bigger than his head is his ego. Didn’t you say he blocked you?”

“Yeah,” you sighed and massaged your temples where a headache was already forming “He got mad at me when I didn’t want to sleep with him on the second date.”

“Pfft- what?! Why didn’t you tell me?” Robin gawked at you, only her eyes and forehead visible now.

“It’s embarrassing! Sorry!”

“Well anyway, I bet it was him. You were too good for him anyway, by the way.”

You smiled and stuck your tongue out, “Stupid! But what am I going to do? Am I going to have to change my number now?”

“Seems so, unless you can find out how Steve leaked your number.”

After you promised to look into getting a new number the next day, you finished your call with Robin and turned off your phone. Today was super busy and you were too tired to worry about changing your number. You walked a short mile home and immediately flopped onto your bed, kicking off your shoes.

You had ignored your phone most of the day, but decided it was time to take a peek as you may have missed something important. You scrolled through numerous new text messages and deleted every single one, only sending back a quick text to Robin who had asked for any updates as she was off work today. Just as you were about to turn the device off again, a new message popped up that made you jump up the bed.

7:28pm Hello, I hope this message reaches you. I’m sorry to bother you, just wanted to let you know someone has written your number on a bathroom stall with a pretty nasty message. I scrubbed it off as much as I could. Have a good night.

.•♫•♬•

It's been a few days since Eddie shot that text off and the almost instant reply he received back was still sitting unanswered at the top of his messages.

7.31pm, three days ago Hi. Thank you so much for letting me know, my phone has been going off like crazy. I appreciate what you did. If there's anything I can do to repay you, please let me know!

Eddie had no intention of asking for anything in return, that would be absurd. He was only doing what was right, it's what any decent person would have done. He's been hesitant to respond, he still remembers that one time he was a bit tipsy and made the irrational decision to give out his real number to a girl after a show. It only took three hours before his number was blasted all over the internet and he smashed his phone against a wall just to make it stop ringing.

Eddie was never this reclusive, not before all of this anyway. In high school, he had a handful of friends who he cared for and loved messing with. He was loud at times and he didn't care what anybody else thought of him, they all hated him anyway. In high school, he still had Wayne, too. Now he only has himself.

He was currently sitting on a hotel bed, after a show, his hair still dripping with water from his shower. He's scrolling Instagram, checking out the bands latest post, reading various fan comments who all appeared to love the show - which was good in theory, but it makes him feel sick. Can't they see that he's miserable? He's burned the fuck out but everybody seems blind to it. Before he can close the app though, a new text comes through, from the same number he still hasn't answered to.

02.59am ''ROb where re you- steve is here and i slapped him!! Cme find me quick''

His brows bunch together in a frown and before he can help himself, he snorts. This was clearly a text someone would send not-sober, which he has done too many times. He decides to write back, just to be.. polite.

03.00am ''Not Rob, but if Steve is the one who wrote that shit on the wall, good for you 🙂''

03.02am ''oh fuckk im so sorry'' 03.02am ''this is so embarrass sing pls ignore me'' 03.03am ''and it was steve!! he said t was him'' 03.04am ''hes such a dick im sorry i'm bothering you'' 03.04am ''ignore me, m so sorry again''

Eddie is staring at his phone with the most comical look on his face, if he felt tired before it's all gone now. He doesn't remember the last time he had a genuine laugh, but your texts are very amusing.

03.05am ''It's very hard to ignore you when you keep bombing my phone.''

It takes a couple of minutes before a new reply comes in and for some reason that he doesn't want to think about right now, it's making him anxious waiting for your reply. That's not creepy at all, he thinks.

03.08am ''IM SORRY have a kiwi on me🥝🥝''

.•♫•♬•

The fresh September breeze has sneaked in through your open window, a gush of wind petting your forehead. You peel one eye open and do a quick scan of the room, noting that you're thankfully in your own apartment. With a delicious groan, you stretch your limbs and turn to your other side. The subtle thumping in your head is a stark reminder that you should've stayed home last night, but Robin refused to take no for an answer, as usual, and you two ended up at a bar downtown.

While downing a few fruity drinks might have been in your bingo cards, seeing Steve Harrington wasn't. Your eye twitched as soon as you saw the back of his head and that stupid hair of his, his arm flung around a girl you had never seen before. Robin had disappeared to the bathroom a while ago and you were left alone at the counter sipping your Cosmopolitan. Blessed with liquid courage, you set your unfinished glass on the counter and stomped your way over to him and his group of friends.

When you were in earshot, you heard one of them shout ''All hail King Steve!''. You rolled your eyes, pretty sure there was steam coming from your ears.

''Pff, King Steve? More like bitch Steve!''

The girl on his arm sputtered out her mojito and looked between you two, her wide eyes moving back and forth like she was observing a tennis match. Steve turned as well and scoffed at you, ''You need somethin'?''

You crossed your arms, needing to shield yourself and popped your hip. ''Yeah, why'd you do it?''

''Do what?''

''Don't play dumb, Steven. I know you wrote my number on some random bathroom wall. The fuck is wrong with you?''

Steve unhooked himself from his date and took a step closer to you, but you took a step back as well. Someone bumped into you from behind and spilled liquid onto your open toed shoes, but you didn't turn away, instead staring Steve right in the eyes, hoping your looks could kill.

''Aw, I thought I was doing you a favor, babe. Thought you might use the experience.''

''Fuck you,'' you spat. ''All this because I wouldn't have sex with you?''

''Nobody turns down the King, sweetheart. It's your loss anyway.''

You scoffed and broke eye contact to dig through your purse for your phone. Robin would abolish him, but she was still not back yet. ''You're such an asshole!''

Steve raised his hands and run his knuckles up and down your arm, which you jolted away immediately. ''We could still hook up if you want, you know. I'll even do you first.''

You gasped at his crummy words and before you knew it, you raised your hand and slapped his cheek. Steve's head flew to the side and your palm stinging from the harsh contact. Your chest heaved as you turned to leave, looking back at the girl and seeing honest confusion in her eyes. ''Don't bother with him babe, I heard he's only 4 inches.''

You pushed past people back to the bar and ordered yourself 3 shots of tequila, your fingers still trembling as you handed over bills. The shots were gone in the blink of an eye. You needed to find Robin and tell her what happened. You don't condone your actions but you knew she would high five you once she hears about this. You used the restroom, hoping to find her there, but she was nowhere in sight. Sighing in defeat, you pulled your phone up and swiped until you found Robin's text chain and sent off an emergency text. Your vision was already doubling, no doubt the work of 2 Cosmos and 3 shots of tequila, being the lightweight that you were.

Back in bed, you raked your hand through the bedsheets, trying to locate your phone, finding it under your ass. The clock showed 2.13pm. How the hell did I get home last night? you thought and swiftly found Robin's number and put the phone on speaker and placed it next to you on your pillow. The ringing went unanswered and you went to send her a quick text.

2.14pm - to Robin ''Hey, you ok? call me when you get this.''

Looking at your text messages, you were confused when you didn't find texts from last night. You specifically remember texting her and she even replied! Didn't she? Nausea started forming at the pit of your stomach as your fingers made quick work to look through any other messages you might have sent last night and your heart almost stopped beating when you realized who you actually messaged last night.

''Oh, dear God.''

.•♫•♬•

Eddie was on the other side of the country, in the middle of soundcheck when he felt left pocket vibrate. As there were only two songs left, he ignored it until he had a few minutes to spare. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but he was maybe hoping it was you. Not in a romantic way, of course, he was just wondering what happened to you last night, if you got home safe.

They finished soundcheck and headed back to the dressing room, where they would spend the rest of the day waiting for the show to start, fitting in a few interviews where he put on his best act. Eddie fished his phone from his bucket and felt a cold shiver run down his back as he stared at the screen. It wasn't who he was expecting, it was from Wayne.

Eddie and Wayne used to be close. Wayne was like a father to him and during high school days, were people accused Eddie of being the devil himself, always had his back and looked out for him. It's how Wayne also noticed that Eddie was unhappy, even before Eddie realized it himself. Eddie would reassure Wayne that he was fine and that this was what he wanted, but Wayne could see through the bullshit. He never let Eddie stomp on him either, calling him out for lying and telling him to come home, or at least take a break. But how could he take a break when he is at the height of his career? He couldn't.

Being manipulated by his manager as well, Eddie slowly started pulling away from Wayne. He wouldn't call as often or would leave certain texts unanswered. It's at a point where they aren't really speaking anymore, only the occasional text Wayne sends to let him know he's doing good, everything is fine. Eddie can't admit it, but he needs those texts more than ever. He's thought about calling Wayne every day, now that things have gotten so bad for him. He needs his uncle, the only person he's ever looked up to, to put him straight. But like always, he is a coward and instead of replying, Eddie just locks his phone.

.•♫•♬•

''Where the hell have you been?'' you scold as you hold your door open for Robin, graciously accepting the entire bag of junk food she brought. Chips, cookies, various types of candy and four cans of Coke Zero.

After you hauled up from bed and straightened yourself up, Robin called you and told you she would be coming over with hangover medicine, hence the junk food. You emptied the bag on your coffee table and popped open one of the Cokes. Robin toed off her shoes and joined you on the couch, reaching for the chips. ''I think I found the love of my life.''

''Oh great heavens, again?''

Throwing a chip at you, you pick it up and snack on it. ''Hey, she's the one who got us all home last night. I found you slumped against the wall next to the bathroom.''

''Oh, well, make sure to thank her for me then. What's she like?''

Robin proceeded to fill you in on her activities last night and you told her about your encounter with Steve, receiving a very expected high five. ''Fuck yeah! He deserved it, I hope that girl dumped his ass, too. He's a stupid idiot.''

Fidgeting in your seat, you pulled your legs closer to your chest. ''Speaking of idiots, I may have done something dumb last night, too. You remember that number that texted me about the whole thing? Who told me my number was on that stall and shit?''

''Yeaaah?'' Robin asked cautiously.

''I.. might have drunk texted him last night, thinking it was you.''

''Oh my God, what did you say? Show me your phone!''

You grabbed your phone from the coffee table and handed it to her, watching her facial expressions as she kept reading. ''Oh my GOD, this is like, sexy.''

''Sexy?! What part of this is sexy? I humiliated myself to this stranger. He could be the president for all I know.''

''Really doubt the president is allowed to text. But this is cool! You have a mysterious pen pal, or a text pal. He hasn't texted anything yet?''

''Nope,'' you say and is that disappointment you detect in your own voice? This is stupid.

''You do it then! Text him something right now.'' Robin claps her hands and scooches closer to you so she could see your screen.

''No, what the hell. And say what?''

''Anything!''

.•♫•♬•

Tonight's show was the hardest so far. The band changed the setlist a little bit and Eddie was off his game, forgetting some words to their last song. The night ended in a screaming match with his manager when Eddie spoke up about wanting a bigger break before they do another tour. Jake, his manager, accused Eddie of being lazy and not willing to work for it, whilst Eddie accused him of being a phony and only caring about money. At one point, the band had to separate the two of them so fists wouldn't go flying.

So, as he nurses his beer at another hotel room, laying on silk sheets and dried streams of tears running down his cheeks, he feels the need to talk to someone. He can't call Wayne, although subconsciously he know that should be the first option, he thinks of that stranger, somewhere out there, who has no idea how he is. He bends down to rummage through his pants until he finds what he's looking for. He's surprised when he sees that you have written to him first, the nickname he gave you staring back at him.

5.56pm - Kiwi ''Hi. I would once again like to apologize for my antics last night. Please know that I'm so humiliated!''

Without thinking much about it, Eddie quickly types a reply, hoping you still might be up.

01.13am “Don’t worry about it. You’re entertaining.”

01.15am - Kiwi “Oh, is my despair entertaining you?”

01.15am ''Yes.''

01.16am “I hope I didn't wake you.”

01.17am - Kiwi ''You didn't.'' ''What's your name, by the way?''

Eddies fingers hovered over the keyboard, seconds ticking by. He couldn't give his real name, he'd already made a similar mistake once. He didn't want to lie to you, but seeing as you didn't know who he was anyway, it made feel a little bit less guilty when he offered you a fake name.

01.20am ''It's Kirk.''

01.21am - Kiwi ''Are you from Metallica?''

Eddie smiled - he was outsmarted. Bonus points for liking, or at least knowing Metallica.

01.21am ''What would you do if I say yes?''

01.21am - Kiwi ''Nothing, probably ask you what James Hetfield smells like 😜''

01.22am ''It was nice knowing you, Kiwi girl.'

01.22 am - Kiwi ''KIWI girl?? Wait come back, Kirk's my second favorite!''

01.22am ''I'm here.''

01.23am - Kiwi ''Are we friends now?''

01.24am ''Sure. If you want to be.''

01.24am - Kiwi ''I think so.''

01.25am ''Good, me too.''

01.27am - Kiwi ''Good night, Kirk.''

01.27am ''Good night, Kiwi girl.''