#but yeah uh. gonna finish up some things and go to bed probably

[tashid4]

Fwb with Katsuki

You were standing in front of the mirror. Final mascara touch-ups, shiny lip gloss. Still only wearing your underwear, undecided about your outfit choice, you suddenly heard a knock on the door. You assumed it was your bestfriend coming to pick you up, you opened the door of your room. But turns out it wasn't her. Katsuki was standing in front of you. Not even bothered by the fact you were half naked in front of him.

Thing is - it definitely wasn't the first time he saw you like this. Definitely not. You and him have been seeing each other in secret for a while now. He would text you when he needed to release some stress. And he would always answer your calls, in the middle of the night when you needed him...

You brought him inside and made him sit on the bed so you could finish getting ready. "What are you doing here?" you asked while applying your favorite lipstick. Dark red. Cherry blood. "I was leaving and I thought I could see my favorite girl before". His comment made you slightly chuckle. Of course he was here for a reason. You had no problem with that. It was a deal. Only sex, no complicated feelings.

Having sex with Katsuki was profitable for you. He was attentive, understanding, open-minded and so fucking sexy. Sex with him was a treat, a blessing.

You put down your lipstick and start walking toward him. Exaggerating every move, swinging your hips and staring at him with big doe eyes. "You also going to the party?" "Yes, Kiri asked me" While you talked you found a place on his lap and slowly started to kiss his neck. Leaving a trail of cherry red kisses on his neck and collar. "You planning on founding a girl uh? Taking her back to your room?" "Yeah probably" You liked that he was honest with you, never hiding anything from you. You knew every one of each others dirty secret. You weren't dating so there was nothing wrong with him sleeping with other girls right ? So why were you feeling this pinch in your stomach ...?

He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Definitely not a soft one. It was rough and passionate like it always was. It was messy and rushed. The expensive Cologne he wore, that you loved so much, filled your lungs and you couldn't resist him anymore. Pushing him on the bed, towering him you start to straddle his lap. "You're gonna find a nice girl uh ? Gonna kiss her on the same bed you fuck me every night ?" "Hmph fuck yes" He stares intensely at your swollen lips, the feeling of your ass rubbing on him driving him insane. He can't help but look at you with admiring eyes. "But I'll always be your favorite right baby? ""Yes my favorite girl"

You knew this was wrong. You knew friends with benefits don't act like this. But you were so obsessed with this man. You were ready to take everything he was giving you. Even if, for the moment, it was just sex.

Hiii it's been so long since i posted smth oopsie but ig we can say im back now. Hope you enjoyed this short fic ^^

[ohbueckers]

WHAT’S MY NAME? i heard you good with them soft lips. yeah, you know word of mouth. the square root of 69 is 8 something, right? ‘cause i been tryna’ work it out.

THIS IS PART ONE! part two here. pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, rihanna and drake made this fire ass song 14 years ago and i’m about to put it to good use ok… this also isn’t proofread i’ll probably go over it later? warnings, just loads of tension, sexual innuendos, no smut yet.

“kk, get ooooout!”

“no! you don’t get to steal my tutor and then kick me out the dorm,” kk argued, not budging from her spot on paige’s bed. laid on her tummy with her feet propped up in the air, it didn’t seem like she had any intentions of moving. because she didn’t.

paige rolled her eyes sassily, ponytail swinging behind her head as she bit down on her lip, thinking of an easy way to get kk out so she could possibly get some play. you know, put those rizz hands to good use. let’s just say she already contemplated picking the 5’9 girl up and tossing her out.

paige let out a dramatic sigh, shifting her weight to one hip as she crossed her arms. “why you always gotta be so difficult, bro?”

kk smirked from her spot, still kicking her feet lazily in the air. “because you make it too easy. come on, p, what’s the big deal? it’s not like you’re actually gonna study. you don’t even need it.”

paige shot her a glare, only angrier because it was true. her grades were stellar, and her gpa was looking better than most of the team’s. but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use some… extra help. especially when the tutor in question was ridiculously pretty.

half-tempted to retaliate with a pillow, paige squints at her before there was a knock at the door. her eyes widened. she’d been hoping for at least another few minutes to strategize. without thinking, she darted for the door, fully aware that kk was hot on her heels.

they both reached for the handle at the same time, their hands colliding.

“move!” paige hissed, her voice laced with all the attitude as she tried to nudge kk out of the way with her elbow.

“no, you move! i’m doing you a favor,” kk retorted, playfully leaning against the door so she couldn’t open it.

the blonde felt her patience wearing thin. “kk i swea—”

before she could finish, kk swung the door open, and they were both greeted by a pair of deep brown eyes that made paige’s thoughts momentarily short-circuit. standing in front of them was a girl with caramel skin, curly hair pulled into a loose ponytail, and a confident smile that made her forget all the words she’d been ready to throw at kk.

liana, a junior here at uconn, stood there holding a notebook, a tote bag of any other needs slung over her shoulder. she was completely unfazed by their little showdown, deciding it was probably normal for them.

“hey, liana,” kk greeted her with a warm smile, all casual and cool, like this wasn’t the most awkward situation ever.

paige, on the other hand, was still struggling to get her brain back online, looking a bit flabbergasted before finally clearing her throat. “uh, hi, liana.“

liana smiled, her gaze finally landing on the blonde. somehow, she wasn’t able to pick up on her nervousness. paige never got nervous. well, maybe a few times… and now. “nice to meet you. kk mentioned you needed help in algebra, right?”

“right.”

the two girls stepped aside, inviting liana in. she immediately got busy situating her things on the table by the door, opening her bag and taking out a laptop, some books, and a few different writing utensils. as she arranged everything with methodical precision, paige and kk stood behind her, watching her work.

“you gonna be a good girl?” kk teased, her voice sarcastic with a slight whine.

before blondie could respond with words, she hit kk in the stomach, earning a dramatic groan. she shot her a glare before heading to her seat, watching as her teammate made her way to the back.

liana settled into her spot next to paige, opening her laptop and flipping through her notes. the blonde leaned back in her chair, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, but her eyes kept drifting back to the girl in front of her. there was no way she missed her on campus for two years, and kk of all people was the first to find her.

paige’s attention adverted to the books, eyebrows furrowing a bit at the amount of stuff she’d brought over. “you only tutor algebra?”

liana immediately shook her head, finally settling on a notes page and flipping it open. “no, i basically do any class i’ve taken. i’m good at it, and it makes me extra money, so..”

paige nodded slowly, still processing. “makes sense. that’s a lot of stuff, though. you planning to teach me everything in one night?”

liana chuckled softly, the sound light and easy. “no, just prepared for whatever you might throw at me. better to have too much than not enough.” their eyes locked, faces a bit too close to be considered normal. “right?”

“right,” paige echoed, her voice almost a whisper as she quickly pulled back, clearing her throat and trying to regain some refocus. she figured she’d be doing a lot of that tonight.

they started working through the material, and almost an hour had passed at this point. paige had yawned about three times, apologizing after every single one of them. as liana started explaining the next problem, paige found herself staring at her instead of the notes. the way her lips moved when she spoke, the moles on her face that formed a delicate pattern, like constellations on her skin. she couldn’t help but wonder how she hadn’t noticed them earlier—how she hadn’t noticed any of this earlier. the way she absentmindedly picked at the eraser of her pencil, her fingers twisting and tugging at it as she explained a concept. the small silver bracelet she wore on her wrist, catching the light every time she moved her hand.

paige stretched casually in her chair at one point, shifting slightly to get a better view of liana’s profile. her thighs, in particular were yelling at her, fully exposed and on display. her eyes trailed up, and that’s when she noticed it—a small tattoo behind her ear, half-hidden by her curls. it was too intricate and small to make out completely, and paige huffed as she settled her chair, giving up.

as they worked through the material, paige found herself growing increasingly distracted. she leaned in, pretending to scrutinize her notes with more interest than she actually had.

“is this good? i been tryna’ work it out.” she pointed to a particularly tricky problem on the page, her gaze lingering a little too long on liana’s face.

the curly-haired girl glanced at the problem, then back at paige, her brow slightly raised. “looks like you missed a step here. let me explain.”

paige nodded eagerly, leaning even closer to get a better view. she was trying hard not to focus on how close they were, or how she could literally smell the perfume on her neck. it was almost too easy to get lost in the moment, with every word liana said seeming to carry a double meaning. or maybe she was just entirely too fascinated by this girl, and was overthinking everything.

by the time the session came to an end and the two exchanged some last words about when they’d be meeting again, liana had packed up her things and was standing by the door, looking ready to head out. paige, who seemingly had gotten a good amount of what she wanted got up to follow, straightening her shirt out in the process.

as liana reached for the door handle, she paused and spun around, a slightly embarrassed smile on her face. “sorry, this is kinda embarrassing, but… you didn’t tell me your name.”

paige’s eyes widened in surprise. “you don’t know my name?”

liana licked her lips. “well, no.”

paige shook her head, apologizing with a sheepish smile on her face. “my bad, i’m just not used to hearing that. i’m paige.”

liana nodded, her lips curving into a soft giggle. “i’ve definitely seen you around, i’m just not really wrapped up in the whole sports thing here.”

paige took a step closer, her hands casually tucked into the pockets of her sweatpants. “that’s alright. looks like we gotta get you tickets to my next game then.” she was leaned up against the door at this point, the two of them face to face and paige looking as seducing as ever.

liana’s gaze lingered on the blonde, squinting as if she were trying to figure her out. she tilted her head slightly, her playful smile widening. “that an invite?”

“if you want it to be. let me put in my number so you’n gotta get to me through thing two in the back.” paige pointed down the hallway, referring to kk. the comment made liana laugh, reaching into her back pocket to hand the blonde her phone.

paige quickly entered her details, her thumbs typing away as she saved her own contact. giving it back, their fingers brushed lightly in the process. “perfect. i got you with the game details.”

liana gave her a warm smile. “looking forward to it.”

with one last flirtatious glance, liana headed out the door, and paige watched her go, a satisfied smile playing on her lips at the sight of her back… her ass.

just then, kk rounded the corner, her phone held up as she laughed into the screen. paige bit down on her lip, shutting the door as she turned to face the newfound noise. “i can’t believe you just rizzed up our tutor, dude!” she said, her voice carrying down the hallway. aubrey and ice’s laughter echoed through the speaker, their voices mingling with kk’s as they all seemed to have heard the interaction.

“c’mon, i’m really like that!” paige patted her chest aggressively, jumping around like a kid. and she believed it, too. she was gonna make liana bale remember her name.

[w2soneshots]

Race cars -W2S

words: 0.9k+

warnings: pregnancy.

summary: you, your baby daddy and the rest of the group spend a day at the F1 - British Grand Prix.

notes: Hello loves! This was requested on my wattpad🫶🏼. I don’t know much about f1 so that part of this fic is pretty vague but I hope you enjoy!!😚💕

A few weeks ago the boys were invited to watch the an f1 race and were told that they could each bring a plus one. Ethan chose Faith, Simon chose Talia, Josh chose Freya, Vik chose Ellie, JJ chose Callux, Tobi chose Calfreezy and Harry chose me.

The past few months of mine and Harry's life have been pretty crazy due to the fact I found out that I was pregnant. It wasn't planned but I've been with Harry for almost six years so it was a happy surprise.

Today is the day of the race. I woke up wrapped in my boyfriend's arms, one of his hands gently resting on my growing baby bump. I slid out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom to begin getting ready.

I took a quick shower, styled my hair, applied some makeup then picked out a cute but comfortable outfit. Once I was finished Harry was already up and in the kitchen making us both breakfast.

"Good morning my love." He smiled wildly at me as I sat down on one of the stools at our breakfast bar. "Morning. You exited for today?" I asked cheerly. "Yeah! Can't wait. The group chat has been blowing up since last night, everyone's really excited." He replied, plating up our food.

After eating Harry got ready into a relatively fancy outfit (well, what Harry considers fancy) and soon we were in a taxi on our way to Silverstone.

When we arrived I text the girls and they told me that they were already inside. I opened the back door of the taxi to see Harry already waiting there. He put out his hand and I graciously took it. He helped me to stand up then we headed towards the entrance.

"Hi!" I let go of Harry's hand when I spotted the girls. We each shared a hug and they were quick to comment on my growing stomach. "You look so cute." "I can't believe you're actually gonna have a baby!" I smiled. "I know. Oh and guess what!" "What?" Faith tilted her head to the side. "I felt the baby kick last night." I replied. All three of them stared at me for a second before bright smiles spread across their faces.

The night before I was sat in bed when I felt a flutter in my stomach. You couldn't see or feel it from the outside but the doctor had told me what to look out for so I knew it was the baby. When I told Harry a cute smile graced his features.

Once I said hello to the boys we all got settled in our seats, ready to watch the race. When the green flag was waved everyone suddenly became very focused. I sat between Harry and Talia, my hand gently resting on my small bump.

After almost an hour I got up to use the bathroom. "You alright love?" Harry asked. "Mhm," I hummed. "Just going to the toilet. I'll be back in a minute." I smiled lightly. He nodded then returned his attention back to the large outdoor tv screen that showed the parts of the track we couldn't see.

I made my way down the stairs and I walked towards the toilets. Just as I got there someone stopped me. "Excuse me?" I turned around. A teenage boy stood in front of me. "Are you Wroetoshaw's girlfriend?" He asked. "Uh- yes I am." I replied. "Could I please get a pic?" He was polite so I agreed. "Oh and congratulations by the way." He glanced at my stomach. I smiled. "Thank you." He nodded with a smile then he walked away happily.

When I returned to my seat I told Harry about the interaction. "I forgot that people don't know about the baby." He replied. "Well they'll probably know after today." I said quietly, carful not to annoy anyone around us trying to watch the race. "That's not a bad thing though, we didn't want it to be a big deal, right?" "Yeah, I'm a little sad that it won't be our little secret anymore though."

Since I'm not really on social media we hadn't even thought about telling the fans since it wasn't like I needed to hide it in pictures or anything. But when they find out they find out we're not that bothered about it.

Once the race ended we all headed to a nearby restaurant to get some lunch. We ordered our food then began having separate conversations. Me and the girls chatted away about what we'd all been up to recently while the boys discussed an upcoming sidemen video.

Later that night as me and Harry lay next to each other in bed he turned his phone around so I could see it. "Look." The screen showed an instagram post with a picture of me and Harry sat at the f1 race, my hand perched on my obvious baby bump. The caption read "congratulations are in order for w2s and his girlfriend y/n! The couple were seen earlier today with the rest of the sidemen at the f1 British Grand Prix and y/n seems to be pregnant! Nothing has been confirmed by them as of yet but fans are extremely excited about the news."

I smiled. "Well, I guess now everyone knows." Harry put the phone down, shuffling closer to me and pulling me into his chest. "I'm glad. It's been hard keeping the biggest thing in my life a secret. The amount of times they've had to cut stuff out of the podcast because I accidentally let something slip." He replied. I chuckled then let out a content sigh as we both slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

[coco-loco-nut]

She’s So Gone

pairing: lando x ex!reader, charles x platonic!reader, carlos x reader

summary: all it takes is a kiss to change everything

masterlist requests open

———————

“Lando, stop,” you laugh as your boyfriend tickles your side. He is staying with you for the evening since the F3 opening race is at Silverstone.

“Come on, say you are coming to my race,” he pouts as his hands still from their assault on your side.

“I’ll try. I have a paper that I need to finish first,” you can’t help but feel the mood drop as Lando lays down beside you.

“You can work on it at the track,” he feebly argues.

“Lan, I have to put my studies first. Plus, the band might want to practice for our gig next week,” you frown.

“Aren’t I more important?” he asks, and you feel your stomach twist.

“You are, Lan. I’ll be there. Just try and come to my gig next week, yeah?” you ask, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it,” Lando promises. And while you skipped sleep and shuffled things around to attend Lando’s race, he forgot your gig and gave a weak apology. He always did.

You attend the first race after your school year ended and fiddle with the team shirt that Lando gave you to wear.

“Stay just like that, you look so pretty,” Lando says, camera in hand as he takes a picture.

“Come on, Lando. I probably look awful,” you say, arms folding in front of you. Lando steps closer, pulling your arms down and bringing you into a hug.

“Of course now. How could you when you wear my shirt,” Lando wraps his arm around your shoulder and leads you through the paddock. You can’t help but feel like everyone is judging you, especially because it’s a support race weekend.

Lando ends up dragging you out to a bar after his podium. As soon as you arrive, you are left alone. You watch Lando talk to people, forgetting about you.

“Are you okay?” a voice asks. You recognize him as the driver who won the F2 feature race. How sad must you look, standing alone at the bar, so that someone you don’t know is concerned.

“Yeah, just waiting for my boyfriend to get back,” your eyes travel to where you last saw Lando, only to see him kissing some blonde girl. “I, um,” you swallow and blink back tears.

Charles’ eyes are wide as he looks between you and Lando, feeling a little awkward. He just wanted to make sure you weren’t about to pass out from alcohol, and he’s watching you get cheated on.

“Sorry, I’m just gonna go,” you bitterly smile.

“Fuck,” Charles mutters, turning to follow you. “Hold on, you shouldn’t walk alone at night,” Charles doesn’t know why he’s offering, but his gut usually isn’t wrong.

“I’m fine, but thank you. You should enjoy your party,” you a fighting to stay fine.

“I insist, it was getting boring anyway,” Charles lies. “Where are you staying?” Your silence is an answer enough. “I have a pull out bed in my hotel room, if you need somewhere to crash for the night,” he offers, still unsure why he’s offering.

“Thanks,” you whisper. Luckily for you, Charles was only a few floors from Lando and your bag was mostly packed. Your phone rings with a call from Lando, but you ignore it. Instead, you scribble a note on the pad provided by the hotel, telling him you were done.

Charles watches as your hand shakes a little, but you seem relieved. He sends a quick text to his teammate to not be surprised that there is a random girl crashing in their hotel room.

“I don’t ever think I caught your name,” Charles breaks the silence as you walk to his room.

“Y/n,” you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders, finally breaking away from Lando. As much as you don’t want to admit it, he’s been weighing you down, making you choose him over everything else.

“I’m Charles. Sorry about what happened back there,”

“It’s fine, probably for the best. Thanks for, uh, letting a stranger crash the night,” you set your bags down as you help Charles pull out the couch.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Charles replies as he hands you a couple pillows and a blanket.

After he bids you goodnight, you rebook your train home to the first one of the day. In the morning you silently put the couch back, leaving everything neatly with a thank you note. You slip out of the hotel room quietly and return home.

Once you board the train, you open the strings of texts you received last night.

Lando:

Y/n, where did you go?

If you went back to the hotel, please let me know you are there and safe?

Y/n?

I miss you :(

Y/n? Why aren’t you in the room?

This note is a joke right? I didn’t cheat! We aren’t over.

Y/n, please.

Babe, tell me you are joking.

I watched you kiss her, don’t lie. I don’t want to know how much of this has been happening behind my back.

You rarely showed up for my gigs, but I’ve made every effort to be at your races. I don’t even think you know what degree I’m studying for. This was the just last straw.

Lose my number.

It’s chemistry, you’ve always loved chemistry. You would send me the silly meme. You’re my nerd and I love you for it. I’m sorry I lied, I need you.

You feel on odd sense of peace. Out of curiosity, you look up Charles on social media, following him so you could see where his career takes him. It seems like you have a new favorite driver. In the process, you unfollow Lando and delete most of the photos of him on your profile. You don’t bother blocking him, he hasn’t given you a reason for that yet.

Charles quickly follows you back, sending you a message that he’s glad you got home safely. You send a message back thanking him for letting you crash and wish him luck in his career.

The school year held a lot of transformation for you. As you advanced your studies, you grew more confident in yourself and your little band began taking off. While inside you were still bookish and loved a rainy day with a blanket on your couch, you weren’t afraid to be bold and dress a little more daring when out.

You messaged Charles every once in a while, keeping up with his racing, wishing him a happy birthday, stuff like that. You weren’t expecting him to invite you to visit Monaco on your spring break. Sure you sent funny videos to each other and texted every so often, but you didn’t think you were that close.

“You seem different,” Charles says as he picks you up.

“I’ve been exploring myself this year, different styles, new music, stuff like that,”

“Well, I like it, you seem more confident than the girl I met at the bar,” Charles shrugs, you feel a sense of pride in it. You’ve worked hard to separate yourself from the girl that followed Lando around.

“Well you’ve changed too, mister hot shot Formula One driver,” you smile, watching him fight his own grin from the drivers seat.

That night you go out to the club with friends of Charles, the ones who don’t race in the higher formulas. It was already a little awkward meeting his entire family since he insisted that you not book a hotel, so you are hoping that alcohol calms your nerves.

“This is my friend, Y/n, she goes to school in England,” Charles says, letting the guys introduce themselves.

“How’d you meet?” one of them asks as you stand in line for the club.

“My ex cheated on me and Charles happened to be there. He let me crash the night on the couch in his hotel room,” you admit, not knowing a better way to explain it.

“That’s Charles, he’s nice like that. We all thought he was bringing a girlfriend,” the friend, Joris, says causing you to flush.

“No, we are just friends. I was a little surprised to get the invite to come here myself,” you chuckle, not able to picture yourself dating Charles. He was handsome, sure, but you just weren’t attracted to him like that.

“Well, you are doing something right. Have you been to one of his races?”

“No. I check to see if he’s won, but I don’t attend in person, not my thing,” you aren’t sure the answer he is looking for. You are sure Charles appreciates that you aren’t his friend so you can attend races, but you do cheer for him.

“You are missing out, you should come some time,” Joris says as you near the club entrance.

“Maybe,” your shrug ends that topic.

After a wild night, for the guys at least, you wanted to stay sober enough to make sure everyone left alive, you find yourself supporting a very drunk Charles back to bed.

“You know, you are a good friend. We should hang out more,” Charles slurs.

“Well, I am in university and you are traveling around the world, we don’t really have time for that,” you chuckle.

“Drop out, I’ll give you a job. What are you studying?”

“Chemistry,” you wonder how Charles will think of a job for that.

“Huh, I thought you’d be like history or something. What if I just hire you to be my personal entertainer?” Charles asks, you just shake your head with a smile.

“If you can even remember this conversation in the morning we will talk about it,” you smile as you reach his bedroom.

“Thanks. You know, this reminds me of the night we met,” Charles reaches for the handle to his bedroom as you turn to walk away, pausing when you hear him.

“How so? We were just at the club, nothing special,”

“I brought you home with me, only this time you aren’t crashing on my couch,” Charles grins as you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

“Goodnight, Leclerc,” you head to the guest room before you wake up the whole family.

The rest of the week goes by quickly, Charles shows you around and you get to know his family a little better. He didn’t remember your hallway conversation, but you did tease him for it.

Your relationship with Charles improved after that. He came to watch a couple sets of yours during breaks and you visited occasionally when you were both free, but you mostly kept up with each other through texts and social media. You weren’t best friends, but you were more than casual friends.

He even attended your graduation, something he proudly posted on his story. Charles tried to find a job for you in Formula One, something you protested, but he came up short. Turns out there isn’t too much need for a biochemist in Ferrari. You took the first good offer that came your way, but you kept your music career alive.

Everything worked out in the end, and you find yourself immediately calling Charles one afternoon after getting off the phone with your band.

“Charlie, I have a surprise,” you say as soon as he picks up the phone, your excitement radiates through.

“Well? What is it?” Charles sounds equally excited, secretly hoping you will finally attend a race.

“I am opening for Taylor Swift in Europe next year,” you squeal. Your alt style pop music was growing in popularity, quickly becoming a favorite of teen girls, and when you got the offer you just couldn’t refuse. It’s the perfect way to launch yourself.

“That’s incredible! I can’t wait to watch you on stage again. I was going to get tickets for Alex and I,” Charles says, he’s been one of your biggest supporters and has helped you get through writers block once or twice.

“I could always bring you onstage to accompany me,” you smile, imagining the crowd’s reaction.

“No way. I need to let you shine. Besides, I haven’t officially collaborated with your band yet,” Charles laughs. “Oh, when you come to Monaco, I have someone I want you to meet,” Charles says.

“Is this your way of getting me into the paddock, because you know how I feel about that,” your voice has a warning tone.

“No, although my offer still stands. Carlos just wants to meet you, apparently I talk too much about you,”

“Shocker, you talk about your insanely awesome friend. Isn’t he my ex’s best friend though?” You ask bluntly.

“They were teammates, yes, but I wouldn’t say best friends, more like just friends. He’s nothing like Lando though, trust me,” Charles says and you sigh, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Well, if he passes your tests, then he must be okay,” you give in. “And, maybe, if we keep it low key, I’ll watch the race with Alex,” you say, having thought about it.

“Really?” Charles sounds like a kid on Christmas and you start to think that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. You aren’t the same person as the one who that last stepped into the paddock.

“Yeah, I was going to do a pop up show anyway, so why not. Why keep hiding myself, like you said. I gotta shine,” you grab your journal, starting to write lines.

“I’ll get you passes. Talk to you later?” Charles says, waiting for your confirmation before hanging up.

The water in the harbor sparkes as the sun reflects off of it. You sit on the yacht with Charles and Alex, tattooed fingers strumming the guitar. The rest of your band decided to explore the city despite having an invitation to join.

You stare at the tattoo that adorns your hand, the simple lines that lead from your pinky to the small butterfly just above your wrist. A reminder of breaking away, learning to fly.

“Wanna hear something new I started,” you ask, “I only have the first verse started, but it has potential,” you strum a random chord before singing.

“I’d be more than happy to workshop it on the piano with you,” Charles offers after your mini-performance.

“Not that it needs any fine tuning, it’s going to be a hit,” Alex reassures you. You smile and go back to playing random chords as you enjoy the waves.

“Am I interrupting?” a new voice asks, a Spanish accent cutting through the humid Monaco air.

“Not at all, we were just about to head out,” Charles stands up as you set the guitar down. He heads to untie the lines as Alex greets the visitor.

“Carlos, this is our friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Charles’ teammate Carlos,” Alex introduces you. You take in the handsome driver before shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” You smile as Carlos sits beside you, limited seats and all.

“How did you meet Charles and Alex?” Carlos asks, a seemingly simple question.

“It’s a long story. Let’s just say that Charles took in a stranger when she needed it most,” you tightly smile and Carlos drops the subject.

“You are a musician, no? One of my friends listens to your music,” Carlos says and you perk up a little.

“Yes. I’m sorry if Charles blasts my music too loud,” you offer a genuine smile.

“No, no, not Charles. Well, yes Charles but not as much. His name is Lando, we used to be teammates. He loves your music,” Carlos says and you quickly excuse yourself, claiming you need to put your guitar away.

“Sorry about that. Lando is a sensitive subject,” Alex says, not sure how much to say. Carlos nods, subtly pulling out his phone to look up your social media. It’s not hard to scroll through old posts and find one or two pictures of you and Lando together. You look so different, like a delicate doll. Carlos remembers Lando talking about an ex who just cut him out without warning, but he’s starting to think there is more to the story.

“Sorry, didn’t want my guitar to be in the sun too long,” you say, sitting back down beside Alex. “So, Carlos, how is racing with Charlie?” you ask. Carlos is quick to answer and with some more questions you find out that you will both be attending the Leclerc family dinner that night.

“What a beautiful day out,” Charles says as he rejoins you, having dropped anchor. You take to opportunity to lay out on the bow of the yacht, wanting some sun before jumping into the water.

“You okay?” Alex asks as she sits beside you. You arch your brow as you look up at her.

“Why wouldn’t I be. All that is in the past, plus I’m going to the race this weekend. Jokes on Lando, I’m so much better without him,” you say, meaning every word. Alex nods, glancing back to where Charles and Carlos are chatting.

“Carlos is nice,”

“What are you getting at?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him?” Alex says and you glance back, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. “Charles wouldn’t bring him around you if he wasn’t sure how you would handle it,” her words ring true.

“He’s basically been my protector since he watched me get cheated on. Charles is a good friend. Maybe I’ll invite him to the pop up show,” you weigh your options. Maybe it’s time to move on, and so what if it’s your former boyfriend’s friend and former teammate. You’re all adults, and plenty of time has passed.

You barely notice when Alex is replaced by said Spaniard.

“It’s quite warm in the sun,” Carlos comments, breaking the silence.

“It is, I may have to go into the water soon,” you reply, eyes trained on how his muscles ripple when he takes off his shirt.

“Not a bad idea,” Carlos agrees, his tan skin brushing your arm.

“My band, Midnight Hours is playing a pop up show at this pretty popular club tonight, you should come out. Charles has a few extra passes,” you say, pushing your hair back.

“I’d love to, thanks,” Carlos hopes that you think the blush on his face is from the sun. He knows he shouldn’t find you attractive, you are Lando’s ex after all, but he can’t help it.

“Well, I’m going to swim. Talk to you later Carlos,” he doesn’t respond as his brain is slightly fried at how you say his name, he watches you walk away and jump into the water.

That night you go to the club soon after dinner with the Leclercs to set up and run a sound check. Passes to the concert sold out soon after it was announced.

“Nervous?” Lia, your bassist, asks as you pluck a string to tune it after the sound check.

“A little. More excited if anything,” you say, setting down the guitar on its stand.

“Well, let’s grab a round before the club opens and celebrate this,” she pulls you offstage to join the rest of the band.

The hour passes by quick, and you find yourself smoothing your tight black dress and fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Maybe heels were a bad option? But they make you look fabulous.

Charles nudges Carlos as they spot you waiting for your introduction. The two of them plus Arthur and Alex are close to the stage, ready to be your loudest supports.

The lights are blinding as you walk on, and the sound of cheering is deafening. Lando feels a punch of regret for coming. You look amazing, but so different from the girl he used to date. Your mini black dress a contrast from the cozy cardigans you used to live in. He can’t help but wonder if he really knew you.

Your set is phenomenal, at one point you catch Carlos’ eye and send him a wink. As soon as the set ends, your band clears the stage to party with everyone. You start at the bar though, knowing Charles will lead the charge to find you.

“Y/n,” a british accent calls your name from beside you, and your mood sours.

“What do you want, Lando?” you hold your cup a little tighter.

“Your set was incredible. I’m sorry for everything, what I did wasn’t cool,”

“You’re right, it wasn’t. Cheating on me the getting with her two weeks after I broke it off? I felt like shit, you made me feel like shit. You never wanted to come to one of these before, why show up now?” you scoff, barely able to look at Lando.

“I miss you, you look hot and I want to try again. I can be better,”

“But I’m better without you. I’m stronger, prettier, well off, and I really don’t need you,” you start seeing red.

“Mate, you should leave,” Charles stands beside you.

“How do you know Charles?” Lando’s eyes widen.

“He helped me when you were too focused on kissing the first blonde girl who batted her eyes at you,” you seethe. You feel a hand, larger than Charles’ rest on your shoulder. “Stay, go, do whatever you want. Just leave me alone,” you stare Lando down.

“It’s for the best, Cabrón,” Carlos says from behind you. Lando just nods and walks away.

“Chemistry,” he yells back at you before disappearing into the crowd, you feel a bit sick to the stomach. The last texts you sent him flash through your mind.

“You okay? What did he mean by that?” Alex asks as Arthur orders a round of shots.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter what he meant, fuck him,” you take a drink, steeling yourself.

“Okay,” she sounds convinced enough as she turns to Charles.

“Hermosa, you can do so much better than him,” Carlos says, lips near your ear.

“Aren’t you his friend?”

“I know that whatever he did is fucked up, and he doesn’t deserve you. He’s too childish for you,” you feel your body flush with heat as he brushes against you.

“Bottoms up,” Arthurs yells, as you all grab shots.

“To a wonderful performance, and an even better night,” you cheer before throwing it back.

You wander around the club, dancing with your band and meeting fans before you find yourself dancing with Carlos. His hands hold you close to him. You tilt your head up, looking at Carlos under the club lights. He finds his hand wandering up to the back of your neck, pulling you close and kissing you. Your arms wrap around his neck, content with your situation.

“Alright lovebirds, time to go,” Arthur interrupts you, giggling at your flushed appearances. Carlos stays close to you as you follow Arthur to where Charles and Alex are waiting with your guitar.

For the first time in a very long time, you are excited to be at the track. You weren’t scared anymore, and it’s a powerful feeling. You don’t even mind Ferrari taking pictures and posting you as a guest, fans of Charles know who you are anyway. They’ve been in your comments begging you to attend for a long time.

“I gotta go do an interview, mind keeping Y/n company?” Charles asks Carlos, who’s been acting like a teenager with a crush all day.

You are standing not too far away, talking with an engineer about something. Carlos thinks you look beautiful, and he loves how excited you seem despite it only being FP1. The engineer excuses himself as Carlos approaches and for the first time of the day, you feel nervous.

“Have you seen an F1 car before?” Carlos asks, you simply shake your head no. “Well then, let me show you.” For a split second you wonder if this is what you were like when you showed Charles the lab you work in. You let him discuss aerodynamics and downforce, but you can’t help but let yourself geek out too.

“You know that I did study thermodynamics right? I actually helped Charles understand some of the tire compounds,” you smile, holding back a laugh.

“Really? I didn’t realize you studied, um,”

“Chemistry. My masters is in biochemistry, but during my undergraduate studies I worked in a materials lab,” your cheeks blush as you speak. You don’t know why, you aren’t really embarrassed. Maybe you are scared he will think differently of you.

“Really? That’s so cool, I just assumed you are a musician full time,” Carlos says before adding an afterthought. “Being that smart is pretty hot,”

“Thanks,” you laugh, not expecting his addition. “Maybe one day soon I will perform full time, but I really enjoy working in a lab,” you shrug, happy with where things are at. You can’t reveal where you will be a year from now, but it does make you a little sad to know that your life will change forever and your nerdy side will be left behind.

You and Carlos quietly flirt throughout the rest of the race weekend. Charles secretly hopes that your crush on his teammate would make you come to more races, but instead you throw yourself back into the band. You had to prepare for your growing popularity, finding an agent and professional support for things that your band wasn’t able to manage.

You end up quitting your job soon after, able to be stable enough with the new revenue streams from the band. It didn’t help that your band kept getting booked and you needed to be more serious about performing.

Carlos did find himself texting you frequently and even visiting you in England over the next few weeks.

One of those nights he finds himself relaxing in your apartment as you grab takeout from the delivery driver. It hits him how domestic and right it feels.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask as you sit beside him, eyes full of curiosity.

“You,” he says as he wraps his arms around you. “How much I want you to be my girlfriend,” you don’t think you’ve seen Carlos so nervous.

“Really?” you hum as you lean into him. You can’t deny that you are nervous. You haven’t even thought about dating someone since your breakup, and you weren’t expecting that question so soon.

“You don’t have to answer right away, I know it’s not an easy one,” Carlos senses your hesitation and running mind.

“Yes, my answer is yes,” you answer before your mind can think about it more, knowing you are making the right choice.

And so, you quietly date for the next year, waiting for the right moment to go public. You do attend races a little more frequently, but usually under the guise of being Charles’ guest.

You did get invited to a race as a guest of Ferrari, well, the whole band did. You were asked to take part in the races C squared video too.

“This weeks challenge is a highly requested one. How many songs by Midnight Hours can you name?”

“Mate, no. Charles is friends with the lead singer, he knows everything. This is so unfair,” Carlos groans, keeping his cover.

“That is true, I’ve known Y/n for a few years. Sorry, Carlos, you might as well take the loss now,” Charles smiles, ready to win.

“The rules are simple, we will play thirty seconds of a song and the first to guess it correctly wins,” you watch them carefully, trying to hide your laughter each time. They still don’t know you are in the room.

Carlos wins 3-2, Charles being too slow or guessing the wrong song.

“I’m a little disappointed, Charles. You forgot about the song you cowrote,” you shake your head as you appear in the frame. “Friend status revoked, Carlos is my bestie now,” you grin wider as your eyes meet Carlos’.

“But I’ve known you longer, you wouldn’t even know Carlos if it weren’t for me,” Charles protests. Carlos drapes an arm over your shoulders.

“Sorry, Charles, she likes me more now. I know her music better,” Carlos looks down at you with a soft smile while you laugh at Charles. To the general eye, it looks like you are two friends, but Charles can tell how enamored you are with each other. He just hopes that you will be able to share it with the world soon.

That moment comes in Australia. Your boyfriend won while recovering from surgery, you couldn’t help but kiss him, even if cameras were focused on you. The frenzy around your new relationship died down not to long after, some people brought up your past with Lando, but most dismissed it.

Fans posted many edits displaying the subtle clues you and Carlos gave. The way you gravitated towards each other, how you looked at him differently than Charles, the way you leaned into each other’s touch and always hugged for a little longer than others.

Unfortunately, You didn’t see Carlos as much once April hit. Carlos being busy with racing, you preparing to go on your first tour with the band, it didn’t leave much time for in-person dates. Video calls were great, but you missed the physical presence of Carlos. You anxiously awaited the day that Carlos, Charles, and Alex would attend the show, you even got Pierre and Kika passes to your tent.

For the first time, you feel nervous to take the stage. You’ve been practicing a new song with the band, your friends and Carlos were in the crowd, and you got a text from a friend warning you that Lando was spotted in attendance. The long awaited day finally arrived, and it’s proving to be quite the event.

“We can delay debuting the song,” Lia says as you tune your guitar, giving you an out if everything is too much.

“No way, We’ve been waiting for a year now to release it. No point in waiting any longer,” you start to hype yourself up. After a quick meeting with the band, you receive your cue from the stage manager. A few songs in you nod to the band, letting them know it’s time.

“If it’s alright with you, we’d like to play something that we’ve been working on for a while. I wrote this a few years ago and I think it’s time to share it with you. This is called She’s So Gone, it will be available at midnight tonight wherever you listen to music,” you turn away from the mic, silently counting the band in. The crowd loves it, and you feel a renewed confidence as you finish the set and make your way to where your guests are to watch the concert.

“That was incredible, you are actually amazing,” Carlos pulls you into his arms and kisses you softly.

“Thanks, Carlitos. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile, relaxing in his embrace.

“Not to scare you or anything, but Midnight Hours is trending right now,” Alex says, showing you her phone. Some are videos of the song, which is blowing up. Others are comparisons of Lando’s sour reaction to Carlos’ clear support and excitement.

“Seems like it’s a good thing we got a PR manager recently,” you laugh, leaning into Carlos who presses a kiss to your head.

You weren’t always a fan of Taylor Swift, but you have grown an appreciation for her after spending time on tour with her. What surprised you was how much of her music the guys knew. Videos of them, and you, dancing during the concert went viral within the F1 community. All you really cared about was having a good time and being with your support system.

The song goes viral and people notice that Charles has a production credit on it. He helped you compose the song, and to you, the song represents how much he’s helped you since that night. You find yourself thinking about it as you sit in his apartment one night while petting Leo.

“You know, without you I wouldn’t be here,” you say, a little out of the blue.

“That’s not true,”

“It is. Your small act of kindness helped me start this journey. I threw myself into my music, we became friends, you made me comfortable around racing again, and you introduced me to Carlos. Without you I probably would’ve left, licked my wounds, then take Lando back because that was the easy thing to do,” you explain, words hanging heavy in the air. Charles sits beside you on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. The past year saw the two of you grow closer.

“For what it’s worth, you have helped me too. You’ve been like a sister to me, and I don’t regret helping you that night at all,” he nudges your shoulder. He’s watched you grow into yourself, and he is proud. Introducing you to Carlos was a risk, but he hasn’t seen you or his teammate happier.

Carlos was patient with you, letting you take as much time as you needed to tell him about your previous relationship with Lando and how you met Charles. He promised to be better than Lando, and he is. He is still on friendly terms with his former teammate, but he is glad that he has you and Lando fumbled you all those years ago.

A few years later you find yourself cuddled on the couch with your favorite Spaniard, wearing a chunky cardigan and snuggled under a knit blanket. Carlos plays with the ring on your finger, happy in the moment of domestic bliss. He’s at a high point in his career and you and the band were internationally known thanks to a large tour.

“Have I told you how much I love you, Hermosa?” Carlos asks, voice soft.

“All the time, but I don’t mind hearing it again,” you grin, content to stay like this forever. Carlos pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your palm. You admire your fresh ink, his racing number beside your old butterfly.

You got the tattoo to carry him with you during shows and other events that he couldn’t be there, and now when you can’t wear your ring. You find yourself reminiscing over the proposal.

Carlos had brought you to monaco with him earlier in the year for an afternoon on the yacht with Charles and Alex. You didn’t even notice when Carlos stepped away for a moment and Charles and Alex left a few moments later to grab drinks.

You were relaxed, watching the sunset create a beautiful sky. You heard Carlos approach, but your eyes don’t leave the sea.

“Carlitos, come over here. The sky is perfect,” you sigh happily, leaning forwards on the railing.

“Not as perfect as you, cariño,” Carlos’ voice causes you to turn towards him, still blushing every time he makes a comment like that. Carlos was on one knee holding the prettiest ring you had ever seen, it’s like he took what you imagined in your mind and brought it to life.

“You make me never want to race again if it means staying like this forever, and when I do race, it’s like I’m trying to get back to you as soon as possible,” Carlos declares and you feel your heart swell. “You are my everything, mi reina, be mine forever.”

“Of course, Carlos, yes,” you try to fight the tears as he slides the ring onto your finger, standing to pull you close to him. Carlos leans down and kisses you softly. If only you could tell your younger self that this was how everything would turn out.

[islayhawkin]

Let me help you

Newt x f!reader

Summery: you're both in love with eachother and newt pays you a visit in the med hut so you can take care of his limp.

Pining teenagers/feelings/slight hurt/comfort/ pure fluff

Trigger warning: mentions of injury and suicide attempt

part 2

The light was getting darker outside the med-hut and you could see the boys return to their sleeping bags as you pulled out a lighter and lit the candle on the table. Every day was like this. You'd take the afternoon shift in the med-hut, you'd have no work to do when it got dark, then you'd do some reading and wait for newt to pick you up. Somehow this routine developed over time. Newt had to do his evening round to check if everything was normal and safe to go to bed. The two of you weren't dating, though the others teased newt constantly about it. And if he would be honest he wished it would be true.

Ever since you came up he couldn't help but adore you. It was about a few weeks after his suicidal attempt. He still had his improvised prop around his leg and crutches to move around. His thoughts had been eating him up from the inside.

And there you were. Of course there was a big ruckus about you being a girl but after a while they all realised how much they needed you in their group. Between the boys there was rarely a gentle touch or loving words. You brought a bit more love, bit more home into their midst. And newt was probably the one most needing of it at that moment. You became a med jack and every boy tried to come up with various reasons to need to be taken care of by you.

Newt obviously didn't need to find a reason. You were the one searching him out. Looking after his leg every other day. Doing what you could to ease his pain even thought he was always terribly embarrassed of needing help. But he loved those moments. It gave him hope. He felt comfort, he felt loved and cared for just for a moment and he chased that feeling ever since. At first he didn't understand what this feeling in his chest was when he saw you laugh, or look at him, crinkle your nose...literally anything you did. He was just a kid after all.

But now he wasn't anymore and he could tell exactly what he was feeling.

Newt walked into the doorway of the med-hut and leaned against the doorframe. Deliberately released the pressure of his bad leg and leaned on his good leg only.

You looked up from your book and gave him a smile. You noticed that his hair was a bit wet and because of this a bit darker than usual. "Hey. You finished?"

"Yeah." He gave you one of his sweet cheeky smiles.

You scanned his form as you noticed his stance against the doorframe. A small frown building on your face. "Is your leg acting up?" You asked softly.

Newt looked down at himself. "Uh I suppose that bloody thing is giving me a hard time right now. But it's alright. No need to worry." He dismissed.

"Is that why you're here?"

"Wha- no I was just gettin' you. I don't need anything..." He broke your gaze suddenly very interested in the wooden floor.

You gave him a look and stood up. "I'm gonna help you wether you want it or not. We can do it here or in bed if we're going anyways."

He sighed as a slight blush crept up his cheeks. "No that's really not nec-"

"It is newt. I know you want it too. You're just too..." you gestured at him. "Selfless to ask for help. Has always been the same with you..." you shook your head slightly. "Just sit down please." You pointed to the nearest bed.

He dramatically sighed and limped over to it to sit down. "How long have you been walking around like this?" You asked softly.

"Week or so." He muttered meakly.

You gave him a incredilous look. "Newt! I told you to come. Bloody shank." You scolded him in a loving way.

He looked down in his lap again. "Sorry. It wasn't that bad..."

"Yeah you could've gone a bit more until you literally collapse like last time. I don't know what you're punishing yourself for but I'm not allowing it again."

"I'm not-" he sighed and looked up. His deep brown eyes scanning your face. "Okay."

The side of your mouth quirked into a smile. "Good."

You lit the little stove with the flame of the candle and set a pot of water on to heat up. Clint and jeff had improvised a heat pad and filled a waterproof bag with hot water a while back. It worked surprisingly well. You always used it for your period days.

Meanwhile newt layed down on the bed. His leg dangled from the side and his arms rested lazily behind his head. That's when you realised his damp hair again. "Why's you're hair wet?" You pointed out.

He grabbed a strand to inspect it. "Showered."

You hummed in acknowledgement.

"I need to show the greenie around tommorow." You could hear that he was tired. His accent was getting thicker.

"Why you? Alby's in charge of that." You raised your brows.

"Yeah but apperently he's gone nuts the last few days and minho told me to do it because I'm a warmer welcome. I need to do every bloody thing around here. These shanks can't do anythin' on their own." He muttered.

"True. They'd be in chaos without you to keep them in line. Honestly a lot of them have anger issues I'm telling you."

Newt snickered.

"You wanna walk around with that greenie all day? I can ask fry. Or minho for that matter. He owes me a favour anyways."

Newt puffed some air out. "S'alright." His head turned. "Wait he owes you? For what?"

You supressed a smirk. "You don't wanna know."

Now newt wasn't able to stop his thoughts from running wild of possibilities what you did for minho.

You filled the heat bag up with hot water from the pot and closed it securely. Then you made your way over to him again and sat down on the bed. You lifted his limp up slightly and as he noticed your intention he moved it over your legs so you had a good acess to it. You softly pushed the trouser leg up above his knee that you could see his naked leg. His leg was skinny and pale as the rest of him. It had hair on it but not long and they were blonde so you couldn't really see it.

Not that you were thinking about such things in this moment.

Newt didn't really think about his body. Other then the hate he felt for that bloody limp he didn't care about such things. They were stuck in the middle of a maze with old clothes that they had to wear everyday. Those things weren't important to anybody in the glade.

But when you were looking at his bare leg he always was nervous. His eyes watched you closely from the position he was laying in. You could feel his eyes on you but it wasn't unpleasent.

You took the heat pad and layed it on his knee, making warmth spread through his leg. It eased the throbbing in his leg as his muscels relaxed. You both stayed like this for a moment. Your hand surrounding his knee with the heating pad. Silence filled the hut but it was comfortable. After a few moments you removed the pad again and layed it to the side. "Feels good right?"

"Yeah..." He whispered.

You placed you hands onto his warm knee now instead. "You tell me if something hurts. No refrain."

He hummed contently and nodded slightly.

As you started to massage the area around his knee gently you watched his face very closely for any discomfort. He let out a sigh with a small unwilling sound making it's way out of his throat. The blood rushed into his cheeks and his eyes snapped to yours to look at your reaction. "Sorry I didn't mean to..."

"Sorry for what? Enjoy to get your pain eased?" You gave him a comforting smile.

"Yeah." He mumbled. Relieved at your reaction he tried to let himself relax again and slow his heartbeat a bit.

You stroked and pressed over his calf and stretched his leg softly. Bending his knee and stretching the fascia. Every move of you made was tender and deliberate. Made with care.

Newt loved the feeling of your hands on his leg. It felt heavenly and he never wanted you to remove your hands from him again. This continued for minutes in silence. Only small breaths that escaped his mouth were heard in the room. When you hit a particular spot he let out a "ow."

"Sorry. In what way did this hurt?" You asked softly.

"Uh in my knee."

"Alright. Sorry."

"Didn't hurt much..." he trailed off as you put your soft hand onto his knee and caressed it with your thumb as if to soothe it. The warmth spread through his leg again. Now because of your hand He blinked and swallowed hastily. You didn't move your hand, just let it rest on him. His heartbeat increased slightly aa he took deep breaths. For some reason there were tears behind his eyes.

"Does it feel better now?" You looked up at him with soft eyes.

"Great." He breathed out. Still a bit out of it.

You removed your hand reluctantly and pulled the leg of his trousers down again. You gave his leg a little pet and stood up from the bed. He rolled himself up to a sitting position again and watched how you extinguished the flame of the stove.

"I need to sleep otherwise the alarm won't be able to wake me." He jawned.

You chuckled. "Now then let's get you snuggled up." You ruffled his hair playfully and he gave a small protest. You picked the lit candle from the table with the other hand. The two of you made your way outside and newt secured the lock on the door of the med-hut.

You strolled side by side over the field to the homestead in the light of the candle and your arms were brushing against one another to seek the others presence.

"You know, your accents gets a lot thicker when you're tired or drunk. Drunk is so bad sometimes I can't even understand you." You noted as you looked up at him. The soft light of the candle flickered over his soft features and enlighting his hair in a golden hue.

A smile appeared on his face though he was a bit embarrassed about your comment as he didn't meet your eye. "Really? I didn't know that. Sorry I guess. You'll have to remind me when I'm drunk so I'll speak more clearly."

"Oh you're just speaking nonsense anyways when you're drunk." You nudged him with your shoulder and he laughed.

"You really don't understand me sometimes?" He asked still perplexed about these news.

"Rarely. But it happens sometimes yes. If you're talking fast. Or as I said when you're tired or drunk."

"Oh that's- didn't know it was that noticeable. Can't really do anything about it. I'm not aware that I do it." He shrugged sheepishly. You could clearly hear his awareness of it now and how he tried to speak more clearly without a accent.

"I wouldn't want you to change it. I like it." You grinned.

He looked down to you stunned. He'd never thought someone would like that about him. And the way you said it so nonchalant perplexed him. "You like it?" His voice was slightly higher than normal.

"Yeah sure. It sounds...nice to listen to." You looked ahead.

His cheeks bore a taint of red again. "I er- thank you. I never thought of it like that." You liked his accent. His voice. You liked to listen to him. Newt felt a tingling sensasion in his belly.

He opened and held the homestead door open for you. You made your way inside and up the steps to your room. You had a own as the only girl and alby and newt insisted on it for your safety. You didn't always use it as you enjoyed sleeping outside with the others too.

Newt and alby had a room together next to you as the leader and second in command. So you stopped in front of your respektive doors. "Night newt. See you tommorow."

"Good night Y/N. Sleep well."

You smiled at eachother before entering your rooms. You had a smile on your face as you tucked yourself into bed and thought of newt doing the same on the other side of the wall. Newt layed down in his bed too with a grin on his face. Alby gave him a knowing look but didn't comment on it. His limp long forgotten and the pain eased for a moment as the warmth spread throught his form. For this evening he felt at home.

[ronearoundblindly]

Drabble Birthday Ask!

Reader finally 'catches' the thing Steve's been hiding... it's that he's tired. He's tired, and he thinks it's non-inspiring or embarrassing or a burden, and he has been acting weird to cover for that.

Steeeeeeb!!!! Yes of course some TLC for Stevie. Excellent. Would recommend. 11 out of 10. Always give him the peace and safety! (Don't hate me though; it's just a bit of established relationship fluff!)

I am uncharacteristically skipping the part where you confront Steve about this. Yes, that's right. Remain calm. Ro has passed up the opportunity to write an argument. Hold your applause. WC idk but probably 2k or less (bit of a surprise at the end, too 🤭)

It's so easy.

It's just so damn easy to lose track, to keep going, to repeat. One more conversation. One more chore. One more hour. One more day. One more.

More. Constantly more.

Steve is very good at giving more. He is consistent, constant, incessant, but you can see now that despite his unending strength, your husband can't hide that drawn, fragile look behind his eyes any longer.

Sometimes, that's life.

"Actually, scratch that shit," Tony says with a flagrant point to your face as you chat. "Life is always like that. I know what Big Guy needs, don't you worry. Consider it sorted."

This speed-date style convo tumbles through a ten-second-savoring of tea. You got one cryptic sentence about 'how you're doing' in before Tony perfectly translates your meaning.

For once, more is unnecessary. He knows.

Stark, however, doesn't even have a moment to finish the turn up of his lips in a smile before his watch is pinged.

His eyes focus to the inside of his glasses. "Go for the World's Most Fashionable Hero," he deadpans, wandering off with his mug clasped like a lifeline in his hands.

Yeah, you know that feeling. Wit's End must be as contagious as pinkeye 'round these parts.

Steve's been silent for the last hour of the car ride. He checks the address. He checks the map. He checks the road. That's it.

Music he usually hates has been playing for fifty-one minutes and counting. No reaction.

Clearly, you were right to ask Stark for help.

The gravel drive up to the cabin is bumpy, and Steve apologizes for having to go so slowly.

"Almost there. I think it's--yeah, there. Okay, we're here." Your husband flips the key back and out of the ignition, a stunted sigh forcing it's way past his tight shoulders, immediately opening the door and heading for the trunk. "I'll get the bags. You get the--"

"Steve? Will you come with me for a sec?"

He looks at you--really sets his eyes on you--for the first time since loading the car.

"What's wrong?"

You crunch up to the short staircase to the long porch. "Just come up here, please."

It takes another wave of your hand in encouragement before Steve abandons the small duffels and totes. He's not used to leaving a man behind. He's got a mission. He's supposed to finish the job. Always one more thing.

More. Constantly more. That's Steve's life, and he does it without complaint. Never, ever complaining, even when he should.

His heavy, tired feet fall hollowly on the wood.

"We're starting now," you chirp, excited to surprise him.

Steve tips his bodyweight to lean on the banister, crossing his ankles before crossing his arms, his head down while sneaking a squint-and-blink to try and bounce his energy back.

"Sure, what's first on the list?"

"Oh, no," you correct. "The list is mine. Those are my activities for the weekend. You are here."

His brow furrows. "What? You're gonna--"

"Steve." You gently hold onto his arms. "I mean, you have nothing to do. Not a single thing. And I don't care where you do it, but you will be doing nothing all weekend. Sleep in the bed, on the couch, on the dingy over there, hell, right here on the porch swing. It doesn't matter. It's your rest, but you must rest."

"What about--"

"Nope."

"Or if--"

"Uh-uh, definitely not."

Steve looks slightly panicked. "Dinner?" he tries in a last-ditch effort to be useful every minute of every day.

"There is a bag of stuff that I will be dumping into a crockpot and walking away from, so, no, you can't do that either."

He's still not sure, eyes glassy and flickering about.

"There's fruit for breakfast, veggies and dip for snacks, and we don't have to even turn on the stove unless we want to. Now--" you release him "--I'm putting stuff away and--"

Steve opens his mouth to argue.

"--and not one word out of you. Not one, sweets. Go. Be free. Sleep. Stare at the water, or a wall, or the ceiling for all I care, but you have nothing else to do today. Okay?"

His eye twitches, a half-hearted glare melting into a challenge in his tight jaw.

"Okay???" you prod.

His hands fling out in defeat. "You told me not to say a word," he whines, automatically making his way back down the stairs.

"No bags," you scold.

He whips around, almost muttering.

"No bags." You rush down and past him toward the car. "And I will bring you looser clothes to sleep in."

"You--"

"AH!"

"But--"

"What did I just say, Rogers?"

Now he just looks petulant, a familiar mood in your household.

You stubbornly point to the cabin. "Go on. Git!"

He watches you bring in the mindfully-light bags you packed up for the trip, pouting and scowling in equal measure.

Steve has to show off at least once by snatching up a bit of potato that rolled across the counter in the transfer of dinner.

Instead of thanking him, you shove a t-shirt and thin sweats at his chest.

He fakes an oof of surprise and traps you for a quick kiss before going to change. He does leave you alone for the rest of setting up.

Steve is dead asleep on the deep, two-seater porch swing when you head to the little work shed, his knees bent so he faces in, his forehead buried in cushion to block out daylight, already snoring softly.

You have to hold your hands to your chest so as not to touch him. Tears of joy prick your eyes seeing him relax so quickly.

Steve can follow orders when he wants to, you think with a smile.

In the garden shed, Pepper has all the cool crafting things, and you putz around with some wood pieces and paints for a couple of hours. You walk the perimeter of the cabin to find some nice wildflowers for a table centerpiece, mixing delicate stems of blue buds with expansive wisps of white and little pops of yellow. You attempt to figure out the dingy but decide against going on the water alone yet. Maybe tomorrow.

At no point does Steve move.

When you walk up to the house, fist full of flowers, he's out cold, softly swaying in the breeze as the gusts pick up in the afternoon.

You snack and listen to music in your headphones, doze in the bed after the sun warmed you a little too much, and then wake to the smell of stew.

The beep of the crockpot wakes him.

Bedhead and pillow mishmarks on his cheek look great on Steve Rogers.

Without argument, he washes his hands and sits at the reclaimed wood table.

Steve says only two things:

"Thank you" when you set a large bowl in front of him, and "can you pass the salt?" after he taste-tests the meal.

He reads a book until falling asleep for the night with you, curled with his knees bent again.

He does well.

He keeps resting, multiple times with his book open on his chest, barely to halfway after hours and hours of holding on to the browning paperback pages.

He rests in the bed. He rests on the couch. He rests (again) on the porch swing. Finally, he rests in your lap while you both float on the lake in the dingy.

He rests with you by his side. He rests with you in his arms. He rests even when you leave to do something else. It's exactly what you wanted, what he needed, and how it should be.

Steve mumbles a fair few things, but the most important thing is that none of it is important enough to articulate. He doesn't have to talk. He doesn't have to be heard. He doesn't have to be understood.

He only has to rest, and he's following orders well. He's completing his mission.

It is truly fascinating how close you can feel without words--okay, so you two aren't completely non-verbal for the weekend, but there are no long conversations. After being married for a while, those are not entirely necessary. You know each other too well for all that; Steve simply feels the stigma of being weak and tired from his youth.

He holds himself to a different, impossible standard. He thinks of it as pushing the limits of his serum, as offering everything he has to others, as respecting those he cares for by shouldering burdens. You think it's stupid.

It is the only stupid thing Steve Rogers does.

Now, after days of resting, you're pretty sure Steve knows he was being stupid.

You hope he knows he can ask for help or a break whenever he wants, before he needs it this badly.

To your great delight, Steve gathers up his things that were left around the house, but he leaves the actual packing to you. This is very helpful in keeping the final surprise.

He's watching the water, sitting up in the porch swing for once with an arm thrown over the back, an easy, calm smile stretched across his face, the first you've seen in months if you're being honest.

Steve gestures for you to join him, but you bite your lip and check the gravel drive.

Exactly on schedule, an engine revs and wheels crackle over the gravel.

You wink at your husband just as excited shouts ring out from Tony's fancy car.

"Papa! Papa! Look what Morgan and I found at the beach!"

"I made you a seashell necklace, Momma. You, too, Pops."

Your children race up the porch steps and jump into the space below Steve's arm.

His smile is still easy, but perhaps a little more excited than calm.

More. Constantly more.

But it's not all tiring...

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay

@rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[stargazedwinchester]

Casual | Dean

love a bit of chappell don’t we guys xox

i rlly enjoyed writing this so i hope you enjoy reading it!! this is very much inspired by the song, but not necessarily a songfic :)

CW: mentions of s*x, nothing too provocative

Summary: You and Dean are casual friends with benefits until you uncover the truth about how you actually feel toward him.

Word count: 1,133

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

“I, uh, think I should get you home,” Dean says. The silence is palpable. You feel awkward and like you don’t belong, so you let out a defeated sigh. He’s shirtless, his slight 6-pack glistening with sweat as he attempts to dry himself off with a towel. You felt as if you couldn’t catch your breath, whether it was just from the insane sex you had just endeavoured or Dean’s pitiless words that filled your lungs with regret.

“Okay.” You give up. Each time you attempt to feel a connection with him — a real, deep connection, it’s like he wipes it from his memory as soon as you’re both finished and goes back to reality. Post-nut clarity, if you will.

It’s not like he doesn’t find you attractive. Hell no. It’s his intense lack of commitment issues and mommy/daddy issues that give him such a hard time completely dedicating himself to someone. The hundreds of arguments you had gotten into over the people he had slept with whilst also sleeping with you just gave you second-hand embarrassment. In fact, it was downright wrong it should’ve been illegal.

You manage to tumble out of bed butt-naked, slowly getting your clothes back on ready for the silent drive home. You almost gape in awe at Dean’s silhouette. Heavy feelings weigh down on your heart for someone who doesn’t even think of you in any other way other than for intimacy is so challenging, especially on your own self-worth.

Dean doesn’t say a word to you. He sits back down on the bed and starts typing on his phone. He’s wearing a light grey t-shirt and charcoal grey jeans. The small screen lights up his face and a slight grin slowly appears and your heart sinks. Without even looking, you already know he’s talking to some other bitch, in which he’s probably going to go pick her up after he’s dropped you off at home.

“You ready?” You ask him, breaking the one-way tension in the room. “Yeah,” He says, standing up and leading you out toward the car.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

On the drive home, it’s dark and rainy. The streetlights emit a dim, dusty champagne colour, yet the awkward tension isn’t anything worth celebrating.

“What’re you doing after this?” He asks, not breaking focus from the road. “Probably just go straight to bed,” you reply, shrugging lightly. “What about you?”

“I’m going to go visit a friend of mine,” He coughs, then purses his lips. “She lives about half an hour thataway.” He motions his pointer finger toward the left.

She.

The anger builds up inside of you. After all this time, you had thought that he wasn’t seeing anybody else, that you had only mindfully agreed that this thing stays between the pair of you, and this included sleeping around. What a fucking tool.

“Listen, it’s nice and all that you’re giving me a lift home, but you’re really taking the cake by pretending like you’re not seeing other people.” You lock eyes with him, and his expression changes.

“What, so you’re jealous now? Is that it?” He scoffs, and you freeze up. “So what if I am? We had an agreement that we weren’t gonna sleep with anyone else! We said that!” You start to raise your voice, frustration running right through your blood as it starts to boil.

“I’ve mentioned it to you multiple times before. I don’t understand why you can’t listen to me! It’s fucking gross, Dean! You need a huge reality check because this isn’t gonna last forever.” You wave your finger between yourself and Dean, indicating that whatever it is that you both have going on is at its final straw. He scoffs again, shaking his head. It’s almost like he wants to say something, but bites his tongue. He presses his foot on the pedal, coming to a stop. It’s that sudden you hit your head on the headrest.

“Y/N-“

“I don’t want to hear it. Take me home.”

“Lis-“

“Fucking take me home, Dean. I mean it.”

For the rest of the drive, you’re in silence. Nothing on the radio, no cassette tape playing, not even the windows open to hear the sound of the rain pattering on the windscreen.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

He parks the Impala outside of your house, and since the quietness has given you a second to rethink the whole situation.

“Dean,” you start, and his big, puppy-dog eyes glare at you with regret. “What’s up?” He asks and this time it sounds like it was with genuine concern.

“I have to tell you something before I go.” You state, and he nods, listening.

“The reason why I was jealous is that I’m in love with you, Dean. It’s hard seeing you go away and spend time with all these different people and I just get a fraction of you. It’s unfair that I’ve spent the last year or so falling in love with you and you see me as nothing more than someone to play with.” You pause, then take a deep breath.

“You don’t need to say anything else because I’m done. It’s friends or nothing. If I hear nothing from you within the next 3 days, then I’ll know where your priorities lie.”

You start to collect your bags together and open the passenger door. He’s left stunned, his eyebrows raised, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes showing enough sadness to make you want to apologise for going off at him and then travelling back to the motel for round 2.

You can tell that the cogs are turning in his head, thinking of what to say that would completely win you over. But there’s absolutely nothing that he could do or say that could make you turn back around. You shut the door, but the window is still open.

“Y/N, hold up a sec,” He yells through the window while you’re almost halfway up the path. You turn around and lock eyes with him.

“Please come back, let’s talk about this.” He leans over to the passenger seat, his gorgeous forest green eyes staring up at you.

“3 days, Dean. Prove that you’re not an asshole and I’ll think about it.” You say one last time before turning back around to the front of your house. The last thing you want is Dean never wanting to see you again.

You enter the entryway to your home and make your way up the stairs. Opening up your bedroom door, you take a moment to collect yourself, instead of thinking God, what have I done? You sit proud that you have stood up for yourself against someone who has clearly used you for nothing more than his own selfishness. And if that is the case, well... so be it.

[mingirn]

only lovers alive

song mingi x reader

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

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

word count: 20,3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You fall asleep with Mingis laugh ringing in your ears.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”You could say that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Why are you whispering?” Mingi asks.

”Because my parents are asleep, dumbass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s silent yet again, Mingi just sighing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”You’re crazy,” you whisper to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Mingi, please…”

”Tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What now?" you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Meaning?" you question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”I’m not drunk, Mingi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His mouth twitches into a small smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod your head under his hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Yeah,” you agree. ”To fuck.”

He smiles at your choice of words and nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pulls away and sucks in a deep breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Please,” you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Yes,” you interrupt him.

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

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

”Good.”

”I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

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

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

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

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

”Morning,” he mumbles happily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”That’d be perfect, thanks!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”It was at Mingi's house?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”What’s wrong?” you ask him.

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

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

”Yes?” you try again.

He pauses, looking up at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”What did I say?” Yunho asks frantically.

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

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

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

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

”You’re wrong. You’re wrong-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Yeah, sounds good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Yunho?” he questions, getting quieter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”What?”

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

”Mingi-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[iinsertblognamee]

motherhood?

summary ― sam and you have a fight, this wasn't how this was meant to go.

pairing ― sam kerr x reader

warning/s ― angst, mentions of IVF

based off this request

You were worried. Sam was missing. You knew she liked to go for morning runs - that was completely fine - but Sam hadn’t come to bed last night and when you came downstairs this morning her keys were missing from the bowl. 

You convinced yourself that she would be back soon enough, as you prepared tea for both of you - ensuring to grab her favourite mug. The silence throughout the house keeps you on edge, it was never quiet in your house. Sam wasn’t a quiet person - she was loud, always moving, always making noise. You grab the tv remote and chuck it on, just to break the tension in the air. 

You sighed, as you rubbed your face with your palms. 

You knew you were both at fault. You shouldn’t have pushed the conversation last night but you were so tired of trying to be patient. And yes, you had been patient. You had waited years for this moment, the appointment had been booked in both your calendars for months. You’re excitement growing day by day as you got closer and closer. You walked into that appointment yesterday and waited and waited until both you and the poor lady sitting there realised Sam wasn’t showing. You hated the way she looked at you with pity - asking if you would possibly want to reschedule for a better time for you and your partner. 

Your partner who couldn’t even bother to send a sorry message that she couldn't come. 

It hurt even more when she looked over both your and Sam’s information (that you had to fill out by yourself) and asked if you were absolutely sure this was a path you wanted to go down. Like she was questioning how stable your relationship was. Although at that moment you questioned yourself too, was this the right thing to be doing? 

So yeah, you blew up at Sam when she walked through the front door later that night, a smile on her face as she waved goodbye to whoever had dropped her off. 

Pouring hot water into both cups, adding a splash of milk to yours before making your way over to the table. It was a sunny enough day, practically perfect and yet you felt like absolute crap. 

You miss the first call on your phone, but hear it the second time it rings. Not bothering to check who could be calling you as you answered. 

“Hello?” you know you sound like crap, the screaming from last night left your throat tender and sore. 

“Y/N hey” Millie. You pick up her voice instantly, she knows what happened yesterday - last night too probably. “I thought I’d let you know that Sam just left my place. She stayed the night after…” 

You both don’t try to finish her sentence, nodding your head before remembering she can’t see you. 

“Uh, thanks, Mills. I hope she wasn’t too much of a hassle last night” You hear something moving in the background before she replies “No, no. She was - She was okay.” she pauses for a second, “It’s gonna be okay Y/N” 

You both say your goodbyes and turn your attention back to the window, as you continued to sip your tea. The conversation from last night ran over and over in your head like a broken record. 

She had practically stumbled in, a grin on her face as she chucked her house keys into the bowl next to the front door. You were already standing there waiting, your arms crossed in a defensive stance. 

“Where were you?” 

You both knew the answer, but you needed to hear it from her lips. You needed to hear her confess that she fucked up on this, not you. 

“Out” she starts, you see her start to get defensive, the way she slowed herself down so she didn’t have to touch you as she walked past you. 

“Funny enough I gathered that already - where’d you go?” 

She gives out a scoff, opening the fridge and looking for something to eat. 

“I just went out with some of the girls, there’s no harm in that is there?” the tone in her voice is enough to send you off. You knew the moment you started yelling she would too but you honestly couldn’t care less at that moment.  

“God Sam! You decided that going out to get DRUNK was more important than coming with your wife to OUR IVF appointment. You are so unbelievable!” 

“I didn’t get drunk for godsakes, we have like two drinks - if that” You shake your head, disbelief towards the woman in front of you. 

“That’s what you defend? How much alcohol you drank, instead of coming up with some lame-ass excuse as to why you didn’t come to the appointment?” 

You wait for it, for the obvious fake excuse she was going to pull out of her ass ‘I forget’ was better than nothing at this point. You didn’t point out that you had sent her multiple text messages during the day asking her if you two wanted to carpool it to the appointment. 

Instead, she just stands there, a bottle of water in her hand.

“If you didn’t want to be there if you’re not ready, you should have told me!” you knew you were yelling, you could feel the strain in your voice, your hands going up in the air. She shakes her head, her arms now crossed across her body. 

“It's not that, Y/N.” you see her frown deepen but you pay no attention to it. 

“Well that’s what it fucking looks like to me” you fight back, your hands running through your hair as you try to calm yourself. This was getting ridiculous. 

“Look, just because YOU might be ready doesn’t automatically mean I am.” 

“You told me you were ready when we booked that appointment months ago, or don’t you remember that either?” 

“God leave it alone. I hate when you do this” 

“Do what?” 

“Act all high and mighty. It was one appointment Y/N!” 

You step back as if you had been slapped. She knew how important this meeting was for you, for both of you. 

“I-” your voice cracks before you can add anything else. You shake your head, trying to grab control of the situation once again. “It was an important appointment, Sam, you knew that. You knew how important this was for us, for me.” you practically whisper out. 

She doesn't go to agree with you and that was the final nail in the coffin for you, 

“I thought we both wanted this, I guess I was the only one” 

“God! I hate yo-” rang through the air, everything standing still in an instant. “-This!” she tries to change but the sentence has already been spoken. 

“Go to hell, Sam.” You don’t know how you managed to say it with your voice cracking, but you don’t for a response as you run up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. The door slams behind you as the tears start to fall. 

It takes about half an hour for you to hear the front door open, although you don’t attempt to look over to see her walk in. The sound of the kegs hitting the bowl, her steps coming closer and closer. You hear the sharp breath she takes in, as she finds you at the table. Your mug in your hand - filled with cold tea. 

You notice the big bouquet of flowers in her hands, your favourite flowers from your favourite place that was ten minutes in the opposite direction of your house. Looking up from the flowers, taking a glimpse at Sam’s face. You notice the bags under her eyes straight away - her hair is a mess as well as her clothes. 

“Hi,” she spoke softly, not moving from her spot. Almost to say ‘your move’. You tilt your head, trying to grasp how this conversation was going to go.

“Hey,” It seemed to be enough for Sam as she took a step closer to you, bringing the flowers out for you to grab. 

“I picked these up on the way home” You give a small hm,  as you take them off her. Your hands touching for the first time in almost 24 hours. “Thank you” you add, taking in a sniff. 

The silence engulfs the two of you once again. 

“I fucked up” She doesn’t try to move closer to you this time. She claps her hands together, you take note of her white knuckles. “Yesterday, I fucked up and then I came home and fucked it up all over again” 

You gave a small sigh, turning your attention to the wall behind her shoulder, the artwork now very interesting. “If you don’t want to do it, Sammy, you should have just said. I wouldn’t have pushed.” As much as it broke your heart to say it - you meant it wholeheartedly. Sam was it for you, you knew that. 

“I want everything with you Y/N” your gaze snapping right back to your wife’s face. 

“Sam…” you start, trying to gather all your thoughts moving at a hundred beats per second. 

“Please, let me. Just let me explain” She sounded so sad, so lost. You nodded your head, knowing that she needed this right now. 

“I want everything with you, Y/N, everything, and I mean that. I’m just scared because I know how much I can fuck this up” You try to cut her off, but she raises her hand to stop you before you can start. “I know how important this is to you - to us and I'm terrified because what if I'm a shit mother. What if I can’t do it? I know I’m too careless, and sometimes forgetful but it's okay cause we’re both adults and we can look after ourselves but a child - a baby relies on me, on us. But then I think about you, as a mother and my heart beats just that little bit faster because I know how great of a mother you will be. You are so kind and caring and you put up with my shit even when lord knows you shouldn’t. You love me unconditionally and make me the best possible version of myself and how am I to deny our children from having that? And I know that when I fuck up, and we both know that I will, you’ll be there ready to take over. So yes, I freaked out yesterday - all my fears bubbling up but I’ve realised now matter how much I don’t trust myself, I trust you even more. Because I know you are going to make the best mother our kids could ever ask for”. 

Tears had started to stream down both your faces, Sam’s chest rising and falling after her speech. It takes you no more than two seconds to launch from the chair and into her embrace. 

“I don’t want it if you don’t-” you start to mumble into her shoulder, she cuts you off by cupping under your chin and moving your face so you were both looking at each other. “-Y/N. I’m trying to tell you that I want this. I want children with you and all the chaos that comes with it.” 

You nod your head, before bringing your lips onto hers. A sigh leaves both your lips. 

“We can wait,” you say weakly, giving her another kiss. She shakes her head, looking up from your lips to your eyes. “How long have we waited, Y/N?” 

Too fucking long. 

She grins once again, before bringing your lips back onto hers. 

“I can’t wait for this next chapter of our lives baby” she mumbles on your lips and you couldn’t agree more. 

[luv4georgie]

“does he make you laugh?”

ex!Charles Leclerc x ex!reader

in which formula one star, Charles Leclerc and his ex, Y/n Y/l/n, visit each other to try and resolve their break-up after months of no contact but little does Charles know, she has already moved on.

based of off that one tiktok sound… “does he make you laugh?” “he doesn’t make me cry.”

warning: angst, toxic!Charlie (kinda), shouting, implied cheating, toxic relationships, moving on (it hurts so much), swearing, flashbacks are in bold italics

“but how we moved from A to B? it can’t be up to me”

i was strolling along the sunny streets of Monaco with my boyfriend, Matt. we had gone there on vacation, although i told him it wouldn’t be a good idea, he still took me. we had fun anyways. he rented out a small house in Monte Carlo. it had a beautiful back-garden with a pool. a wonderful little kitchen, a cosy living room and one bedroom with a double bed. however the house was extremely close to a certain someone i tried to forget.

“but Charles you don’t fucking get it!” i shouted from across the kitchen. “what do you mean i don’t fucking get it?! you went out, without my permission, and got shit-faced drunk without even telling me!” my boyfriend, Charles, shouted back at me. tears were streaming down my face at this point, due to the amount of him screaming at me. and if i was going to be fully honest i wasn’t even “shit-faced” drunk, i had about 3 or 4 drinks with my friends and i was on my merry way back home to him. it was a rainy night, fair enough, but i still called him to pick me up. he probably wasn’t doing anything anyway. probably just sitting there on his arse watching TV. i was scared and upset. yeah, he shouted at me sometimes, but never like this. never. never this loud. never this aggressive. but this time it was exactly those things.

me and Matt had just walked out of a shop and went back to the small air bnb. as soon as he got in he flopped on the bed and, right as his head hit the pillow, he was out. i was hungry so i went into the little kitchen and opened the fridge, to which i found myself staring at a half-full milk carton and a banana. i ran upstairs, into the bedroom and shook Matt carefully. “i’m gonna get some food babe, i’ll be back soon” i whispered into his ear. he just hummed. i kissed his cheek and was off.

hour time skip…

as i turned the corner of one of the food aisles in the small shop i bumped into a rather hard chest. “jesus, sorry” the Monegasque accented voice said. oh shit, i could recognise that voice anywhere. i looked up already on the brink of crying. “oh, Y/n” the person, Charles, smiled. “hi” he said, almost breathlessly. “hi” i responded. and about 15 minutes later, we found ourselves sat across from each-other in a small café. “so,” he started. “how’s it going with you and… uh… Matt? is it?” he finished. “good” i replied dryly. he just let out a breathy chuckle. i looked up at him without moving my head, as i was staring down at the coffee in-front of me. “why are you in Monaco?” he asked. “he wanted to go on a little holiday for summer break, why are you in Monaco?” i copied. “summer break” a laugh escaped his lips.

“i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you… but it’s something.” “oh please Charles, don’t act like you don’t go out every night and rail some random blondie you met in a club” Charles scoffed. “you don’t know what the fuck your talking about.” “come on Charles. i know exactly what i’m talking about… i mean, jesus, isn’t it obvious, you’re so desperate” i had it with Charles. i got drunk and kissed a guy. just to feel something again. he hadn’t touched me in weeks, months even. and if anything, i was the desperate one. i wanted to be touched so bad. i was practically touch starved. and it hurt.

i don’t know why Charles was being so nice now. he never was back then. and i don’t know why the first thing he asked when we sat down was about Matt. he better not had been fucking jealous or i would have to rip his head off of his fucking shou- “you seem so sad Y/n” yeah. no shit sherlock. “does he treat you right?” better than you ever did. “does he make you laugh?” he said. i actually had the courage to answer this question. “he doesn’t make me cry.” i responded. his eyebrows dropped and his eyes welled up with tears. why was he fucking crying? his bottom lip wobbled and he frowned. then tears fell. he had no right to be crying. he made me feel like shit every single second i was with him. but i stayed. because i loved him.

-

oh how love hurts. sorry for not posting that Lando shit yet guys i’m still thinkin’. but anyways hope you guys enjoyed this lil fic. cya mi cariños!!!

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

random hoeing:

Curtis slowly standing up, stretching into his full, enormous height

Read Your Book

A Curtis and Honey Drabble

You were currently in one of your favorite spots. Well, maybe more like the second favorite. Your actual favorite place was under Curtis with your legs wrapped around him, but that just wasn't an option right now. So you lounged on the couch, your head pillowed on the arm while your nose was stuck in your newest smutty book that arrived in the mailbox today.

And you were so excited about this one, the ending of a duet, you had ordered this one midway through the first one, knowing you were gonna need to read the rest as soon as you could get your hands on it.

You hadn't moved from the couch since getting home after work, your eyes scanning the pages, filing away little clues and curiously wondering if you stumbled on a new kink that the story was heavily playing into.

It toyed with some dark little corner of your mind, wondering if there was something you should be worried about or should you embrace it?

Midthought, while still scanning the scene you were questioning, a hand appeared in front of you, gripping the top of your book and easing it down till you could see over the top into Curtis's face, a amused grin lifting on one side of his mouth and a teasing glint in his eyes. "Really into your book Honey?" You lowered the book to your lap, seeing him squatting down next to the couch, still in his work clothes, so you knew he just got home.

"Hey! I didn't even hear you come in." You said a bit sheepishly.

"I know, I called your name twice till I saw you curled up on the couch. What's got all your attention?" You turned the book so he could study the cover, his eyes gazing over the dark cover. "Hmm, looks like one of those fun dark romances you like."

"Yeah, I haven't put it down since I got home." You glanced over your shoulder to where the old clock sat among the books on the built in shelves. "And I should probably get dinner started." You flipped the book onto the back of the couch, letting it keep your page safe. Pushing to start getting up.

Curtis shook his head and he pushed up to lean over you, easily pushing you back to laying your head on the arm of the couch and staring up at him in surprise. "Nu-uh Pretty Girl." His arm braced against the back of the couch, his free hand ghosting down your side till his hand landed on the curve of your hip, giving a hard affectionate squeeze.

It sent a thrill through you, almost feeling like it was a possessive touch, the only man who was allowed to. You have had your head stuck into too many of these books you told yourself at your thoughts.

"Let me go get cleaned up and changed, then I will make dinner. You just keep reading your book Sweet Girl. Then you can fill me in on all the spicy details when we're in bed." He smirked at your widened gaze, wiggling his brows at you, which made you laugh at his playful attitude.

"And ruin the book for you?" You joked back as you sat back, tilting your face up enough to nip at his lips when he hovered in closer, sharing a kiss. He finished pushing up, and up, up, up. Your eyes roved up his tall body, feeling your mouth start to water at how damn good he looked. His arms stretched over his head, arching a bit to loosen the knots in his back that his previous squatting had caused.

Fuck he was tall, big, strong, his full height towering over you now given how you were laying on the couch and you had to tip your head back to look up at him. He always had that uncanny ability to make you feel small, a hard thing to accomplish since your past relationships you always felt to big, to much for your partner.

But not with Curtis and right now he felt so large, so powerful. You blew out a breath where you had been holding it. "You know I wanna know..." His hand came down to brush his fingers along your face till his hand snapped to your neck, circling his hand around your throat.

Your heart picked up speed, arousal making your thighs clenched, resisting the urge to rub them together, anything to relieve that sudden ache building between your thighs. "... all those filthy thoughts going through your mind, so we can discuss if we wanna try them out."

You gave a nod, a slight one as his large hand was still at your throat. "Good Girl." He rumbled out deeply, placing one last kiss on your forehead before leaving to go upstairs, calling down from the top of the stairs. "I saw the cover had a mask, you should really give that some thought. Maybe a ghost face... or I could borrow a motorcycle helmet if you're more into that Honey."

You were alone once more, fully letting out your breath in a whispy moan of want. "Fuck that man doing that to me." You muttered and at the end of the couch came a rather loud judging meow. Lifting your head, you spotted Binx giving you the most bored look, his gaze slowly blinking at you, as if he couldn't believe how you were acting. "Don't you even start with me Binx!" You grabbed at your book and shoved your face back in it, going back to reading and properly ignoring the cat.

[tinytinalifes]

Katsuki would definitely lower his voice at someone he finds attractive/cares about 🌚.

this story gonna be hella long so buckle up!

Don't play the song now.

Monday morning!

"Y/n get your butt down here or your walking to U.A!" You mom yelled from down stairs your eyes widened as you looked at the clock, shit I'm gonna be late! You thought and quickly got out of bed. You made your bed and looked on your dresser, the school uniform. You quickly put it on before running downstairs to see your younger sister siting down at the table with a smirk on her face.

"what?...." You said dryly wondering was she was smirking about. "Oh nothing.... Just finished eating the pancakes..... You should probably, make some toast or some-" her words were cut off by you pining her to the ground with a emotionless expression. "Bro you know it's my first day I'm gonna be hungry!" You said very annoyed and standing back up rolling your eyes taking a piece of bread an toasting it. What's her problem fucking problem dude? you thought taking your toast before walking out of the house waving bye to your sister, she waved back smiling.

Even though your sister would pull things like this you still loved her to death. You quickly ran out the door locking the door and jumping into the car as your mom drove off rambling about how your sister didn't clean the bathroom this week, you zoned out looking out the window. You had gotten accepted by U.A, by recommendation you don't really even know who recommended you but you knew it was one of your dad's friends.

Your mom dropped you off at the gate you got out and put one air pod in just in case you needed to hear something around you, suddenly you saw a girl with short hair about to bump in this guy with blond hair. You quickly used your quirk draining some of the girls energy making her slow down just in time for you to swoop in, quickly take the Starbucks drink out her hand and moving her to the side in one swift movement. You quickly put all her energy back into her.

Play the song!

"o-oh my..... Thank you i-i-i I'm Ochaco Uraraka!" The girl say with an embarrassed smile puting her hand out to shake, which you shook. "No biggie!" You said kindly you glanced at the boy with blond hair and red eyes, he was so handsome you thought you would faint. He just looked at you up and down before mumbling something and walking inside the school. "Uh that's Katsuki bakugo..... I'm guessing your new?" She said softly and bubbly.

You already liked her personality and nodded softly, "uh yeah I'm Y/n L/n.... I'm supposed to go to class 1A..... Could you please show me to that class?" You said softly. Her eyes widened with a smile on her face, "wait oh my gosh that's my class... Of course I can show you around!" She said bursting with excitement and grabbing your hand running into the school with you, you tried your best dodging the people you can, as she ran. You couldn't help but laugh softly at how excited she was, suddenly she stopped at a locker. "This one's yours I'm pretty sure!".

You nodded and put your lock on it then puting the passcode in it opening your locker and putting your things in taking out the essentials before turning to the classroom door where Ochaco was standing she grabbed your hand dragging you into the classroom. Suddenly all eyes were on you, a couple minutes later you were introduced to everyone expect for the blond guy Katsuki, you thought he didn't like you, so you decided to talk to him as you sat in your seat.

"uh hi I'm Y/n L/n.... Nice to meet you" you said softly with a big smile showing your dimples. He looked up at you looking at your dimples, he had an unreadable emotion on his face suddenly a small smirk appeared on his lips. "Katsuki bakugo soon to be number one hero!" He said proudly which you nodded in response. "Uh if you don't mind me asking.... What's your quirk?" You asked softly, he chuckled gosh his laugh was beautiful. "Explosion, I can create explosions from my hands to put it in an easy way for an extra like you" he said confidently.

You couldn't lie that quirk was pretty cool, "uh my quirks being able to drain any amount of energy out of people" you said softly. Suddenly he looked at you with a raised eyebrow, you spent the rest of the morning till Mr. Aizawa came answering all his questions about your quirk. He seemed genuinely curious about your quirk, he listened and hummed softly ever few seconds. As you talked he looked deep into your eyes then would look away flustered.

The class watched silently half listening to you explain your quirk, the other half in complete shock Katsuki wasn't getting bored listening to what your saying, or the fact he didn't even call you a nickname.

THE END!

[comically-callous]

Would you do a 1610 miles morales request where he and the reader became close at visions and she figures out he’s Spider-Man so he tends to go to hers when needing comfort/help so one night after patching him up, they end up sharing a bed cause he’s too hurt to go home and they’re both flustered and cute cause they clearly like each other?

Yurrrrrr

Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Warnings: light swearing, mentions of pain/injury, reader and miles share a bed (NOTHING SPICY 😑)

A/n: First non-second person POV fic on here. As always, my requests are open 🥳

Tonight had been pretty rough for Miles. He had gotten in a pretty bad fight with some guys that were trying to rob a jewelry store. He had stopped them, which was good, but his entire body felt sore.

So, like always, he made his way over to her apartment.

This had become a sort of regular thing for him to do. His best friend, Y/n, was one of the only people who knew about his secret identity, and so, he went to her whenever he was in need of some quick first aid.

Miles swung over to the familiar apartment building and knocked on her bedroom window.

After a short moment, Y/n opened the window for him. She scanned his disheveled state while helping him climb through the window. "Wow, you look like shit." She commented.

"Thanks. Good to see you too." Miles replied as he pulled his mask off and let it fall to the ground.

She laid a towel on her bed before he sat down (Y/n was very serious about Miles not getting blood on her sheets) and grabbed the first aid kit that she kept in her room.

"Rough night?" She asked as she got out some of the medical supplies she'd be using.

"Yeah. I'm alright though."

She began disinfecting the wound and a comfortable silence fell over them. Miles always liked coming over to her place. Even though he was almost always injured or hurt when he came over. He liked how cozy her room was, he liked that she always had music playing, and he liked that she was always too focused on patching him up to notice him staring at her.

After about 30 minutes of tending to his wounds, she finished with a relieved sigh. "You're lucky I like you, dude. If anyone else asked me to do something like this I'd tell them to never talk to me again."

Miles chuckled and looked down at the floor. "Uh... Thanks?" He tried standing up, but winced.

"You alright?" Y/n asked, looking back at Miles as she put away the first aid kit.

"Yeah... Just a little sore." He said as he sat back down on her bed.

"You gonna be able to make it back home?'

Miles thought about it for a moment. He didn't think he had the strength to swing or even walk home right now. "Uh..."

"If you need to you can stay the night." She tells him

"Really?"

"Of course, man." She smiled softly. "It's not a big deal."

To Miles it was a big deal. Staying over at his crush's house? Huge deal.

But, he had to play it cool.

"Uh... Yeah, alright." He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing.

Y/n had given him some of her oversized clothes for him to sleep in.

There was a brief argument over the sleeping situation (Miles didn't want to kick Y/n out of her own room, but Y/n wasn't gonna make an injured Miles sleep on the couch) they decided to just share the bed.

No big deal. Two friends sharing a bed. Totally normal. No big deal.

Miles settled into her bed, back turned to her as he stared at the wall.

The two of you exchanged a brief 'good night' and then it was silent.

Miles was wide awake. The position he was laying in was uncomfortable, but he didn't dare move. The minutes passed by like hours and he wanted to look at the time, but he couldn't wake her up.

Little did he know, Y/n was feeling the exact same way. Wide awake, unable to move, and unable to speak.

Somehow, against all odds, after what was probably at least 2 hours of still, dead silence, they both managed to fall asleep.

If they thought falling asleep next to each other was awkward, then the dilemma of waking up cuddling each other was going to be absolutely unbearable.

[justdarklr]

Metempsychosis Of Stars

SPOILERS FOR ISAT ACT 3 BELOW THE CUT! Later entries will contain spoilers for the rest of ISAT, so please beat the game before reading!

CHAPTER 1.

Deviating From The Script (If Ever So Slightly)

… ( yaaaaaawn. )

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. Yesterday was tiring. Though… you wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Spending time with everyone, like that… helping them out… it was nice, wasn’t it? You hope you can stay with this version of them for a little longer. Maybe you’ll end up going through the whole house with them tomorrow, just so you don’t have to start it all over again. Like you have so many times.

How many times has it even been, now? At least fifty, you have to guess. Though, you’ve stopped keeping track, at this point. If you did, you’d probably start going insaaaane~!!

… you cover your single eye with your hand. You really hope this is it. That this is how you fix things. It has to be, right? Right? What else could you even try? You’ve done so much, already…

If it’s not it, you’ll survive, at least. You’ve got Loop. They can help. You’re sure of it… you think. They’re here to help, right? Helpful Loop, right?

… aaaaagh, STARS, you need to stop thinking! It’s not doing you any good!! Especially right now!

This is it! It has to be! And when you get to the top of the house, you’ll finally be free! With everyone there, by your side! And after, you’ll go thank Loop, go introduce everyone—! Because it’ll be your happy ending! Your happily ever after! It…

It has to be. It will be.

You sigh. And as you do, Isabeau turns to face you.

“… hey, Sif. Can’t sleep?”

“I— … yeah, sorry. Just… thinking. Don’t worry about me!” You say, with the best smile you can muster at the moment.

“Are you sure? I could hear you mumblin’ to yourself.”

… were you saying all that out loud? It didn’t feel like you were. But you don’t know, at this point.

“I’m sure, Isa. Promise.”

“… alright, as long as you’re sure. … um… do you mind if I tell you something?”

Oh, right. This. He never does finish what he’s saying, here. But you may as well let him go along with it.

“Sure, Isa. Hit me.”

“… okay, okay, okay. Then I shall tell you the thing! Haha! Um, okay. So, the thing I have to tell you. Is… that… I… uh…

I don’t have anything to tell you right now. But I will! When, uh, when we beat The King tomorrow. Okay?”

[ “That’s so ominous, Isa.” ]

“I—It’s not meant to be??? I, uh, just don’t wanna tell you right now. It might distract you. And we wouldn’t want that, right??? So, um.” Ahem. “I’ll tell you when we beat The King. Okay?”

“… okay.”

“… okay!!”

Aaand here comes the pillow. WHACK! Right into the side of his face! Stars, she has good aim. That never fails to impress you.

“SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!” Bonnie yells out.

“YEAH ISABEAU!” Mira follows. “SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP! CLOSE YOUR MOUTH AND SLEEP!”

“YOU CLOSE YOUR MOUTH, HOUSEMAIDEN!” Isa retorts. “YOU’RE GONNA WAKE UP M’DAME ODILE!”

“… I’m already up.” Odile grumbles.

Mirabelle and Bonnie turn to look at her, as Odile stares up at the ceiling, clearly annoyed.

“And if the noise continues, I will stand up. You do not want to know what will happen if I stand. up.”

“Sorry.” “Sorry M’dame.” “S-Sorry…” follow the other three, in quick succession.

You turn to look back at Isabeau. That interaction’s always a little funny. Even if you’ve seen it tens of times now.

He smiles at you.

“Good night, Sif!”

… you close your eyes, ready for tomorrow.

The last thing you hear before you wake up is the sound of something… crumbling.

And

Falling

On

Top

Of

You

[amberstormblade]

Yes it's 3:30am but we can ignore that because I just finished writing a fanfic about a fanfic. Is that weird? Maybe? No clue! Anyways! This is inspired by @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands 's Black Sheep, Come Home and everyone should go read that because it's amazing and makes me feral!

I might put this on AO3 too but for now it's just here!

i'm so sleepy, g'night folks! happy reading!

(Sorry for tagging you guys, I can undo that if you want)

The world seemed to shake as the dragon’s dying cries echoed through dimensions. A bolt of adrenaline shot through Rex as he realized what was about to happen. They had been inside the starter base as a sort of preparation as they hadn’t known when they would be visible again and didn’t want to risk instantly burning if previous experience was anything to go by. They’re a little nervous, it took a bit to adjust to everyone actually seeing them last time and even if they’ve been able to correct Legundo on where to look, it’s still something to get used to. 

Rex walked towards the center of the room. They took a deep breath and started looking at where their hands should be to try and see if anything had happened yet. Something had changed just, not how they had expected. It was like there was a crack in reality. A small, bright, jagged thing that was just floating there. They went to touch it but it moved with their hand, as if it was attached. Before they could even begin to comprehend what was going on, more cracks began to appear, spider-webbing their way up their arm.

“Okay… this- this is weird, yeah. It’s uh, it’s gonna be okay though. Because once it’s done, I’ll be visible again! So I guess I just… trust the process?” Rex was glad Legundo was in a separate dimension, that way he couldn’t hear their voice shaking. 

The cracks started to get brighter as they reached their neck. They started to burn. Rex’s breathing started to speed up as they felt like they were running a marathon in the desert. They could feel their throat as it seemed to close in on itself, could feel as their knees shook and gave way. They remember what Legs had said, that first time they had died. 

“Inevitable, heh.” The sudden raspiness of their voice catches them off-guard. Coughing does nothing to clear their throat. “Guess the timing was off? Inevitable, all the same.” The cracks have reached their chest now, seeming to gather around where their heart should be and spread out like veins. Rex struggles to stand back up, not really knowing where they would go, not really knowing what to do. They take one step towards the bed, two, they collapse again as the cracks reach their knees. It’s like their legs have been bound and any attempt to move them just causes more pain.

The burning is more intense now, not in the way of lava or fire, but in the way ice burns your hands from holding it too long. The cracks were draining any warmth that their body had held and it was like they were freezing over, at risk of shattering.

With a great deal of effort, they curl into a ball and just hug themself. Rex was glad Legundo was still in the End. Sure, it’d be nice to not be alone but they also don’t want him to see them like this. They wonder for a second if he’ll have a second funeral for them, mourn them a second time, but quickly dismiss the thought. They were lucky to get anything at all the first time, why would he bother to do the same thing twice? Maybe he won’t even realize they’ve died. Knowing how paranoid he is, Rex wouldn’t be surprised if he thought it was all part of some plan to get him. They might of laughed at the thought if it hadn’t been for the feeling that something was trying to crush them to death. The cracks writhing around their form seemed to be connecting, tightening to the point that they could no longer feel their limbs. They could still feel the tears falling down their face at least. Even if they had been able to move, they probably would have let them fall anyway. Not like anyone could see them. Quiet sobs slipped past their lips, as the burning cold sank in and the cracks grew brighter still. A part of them made a selfish wish. If this truly was the end, they didn’t want to be alone.

Maybe the Universe was kind, because a dull thud came from behind them. They would have recognized the sound anywhere. It was someone respawning at their bed or in this case, returning from the End. 

It was Legundo coming home.

“Rex, I’m back! You would not believe how-” His rather cheerful call was quickly cut off and they could feel as he rushed over to them. Quickly kneeling in front of them, Legundo reached out as if to touch them but hesitated at the last second. “Rex? What’s going on?” The worry in his tone was touching, in a way.

Rex tried to speak. Nothing came out at first, just a hoarse, rasping noise. Clearing their throat, they tried again. “...Don’t know. Started… after dragon. Hurts.” Broken sentences are all that can be managed but they get the point across. “Dying maybe… you alone?” They take a deep breath before, “sorry.” There was so much more they wanted to say, but their throat seemed to seal over again, leaving them wheezing for air.

“Hey- hey! It’s gonna be alright! I uh…” He trails off, digging through his things. Legundo pulls out a healing potion, probably one he had gotten from the End, and uncorks it. His hand hovers over Rex again. “I’m gonna touch you now, okay? I can see where your face should be pretty well so I think I can help you drink this. Just, bear with me, okay?” He lays his hand on Rex, flinching back for a second as though he had been shocked. Shaking out his hand, he puts their head on his lap. He cups their jaw oh so gently, as if afraid he might break them. Using his thumb, he traces their lips, carefully parting them. Lifting the bottle, he pours a small amount in their mouth and waits. It’s a struggle, but they swallow it. The sweet taste of watermelon lingers on their tongue as they breathe a little easier. Another mouthful has Rex sucking in their first proper breath since this began.

“...hey, ‘Gundo I- I don’t know how long I have. This didn’t happen last time. I think… I think I might be-”

“Don’t.” He cuts them off. His hand that had slipped from their jaw to their shoulder tightened slightly. “You’re not dying. You said you were going to protect me? You can’t do that if you’re not here. So- So no. You’re not leaving me alone again Rex so you’re going to get better! Okay?” His voice is thick with tears as he pulls them into a deep, bone-crushing hug. Instead of feelling restrictive, however, it felt freeing. It felt like home. A promise between two lonely people that they weren’t going to be alone again, not if they could do anything about it.

Straining to move their arms against the numbness that had overtaken them, Rex returned the hug. The cracks covering their form seemed to reach a crescendo as they flared brighter than the sun. The two just held tighter to each other as Rex cried out in pain. A sort of crackling sound could be heard for a seconds and then, just as suddenly as it all had started, the light and noise stopped.

Rex could still feel Legundo’s arms around them but couldn’t bring themself to open their eyes until, “Oh, you’re colorful.” They were still close enough that the whispered statement seemed to tickle his ear as Legundo leaned back from him slightly.

Painstakingly slowly, Rex opened their eyes. They looked down to see their familiar blue and yellow jacket. They looked up to see Legundo looking directly at them. Their face faintly reflected in his glasses. “Yeah,” They breathed, afraid that speaking too loudly would ruin the moment somehow, make everything suddenly revert. But no. 

There were no disappearing acts that would be happening today. In the next few days they would probably fall back into their familiar routines of secrets and cryptic actions. They would have tense moments and heated exchanges. But, they would also remember this moment. They would share a look followed by a fond smile. They would both find excuses to exist closer to each other, soaking in the contact that they craved but didn’t dare ask for. They would allow themselves a second of vulnerability, because that’s what helped them sleep at night. Someone always by their side to keep the nightmares at bay.

Moments like these aren’t easily forgotten. They both rest easy that night, knowing no matter what, they’ll always remember what it feels like when someone cares.

[bow-of-aros]

Day Nineteen: Secrets

Summary: Peter has something he needs to tell Ted. Hopefully it doesn't all go to shit.

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Hey folks! I love trans Peter and good sibling Ted and therefore this fic (And a good chunk of some of my other ones) was born! They're just so wholesome and I love them so much. Hope that y'all enjoy <33

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Peter Spankoffski

Hey, do you mind if I come over today? I have something I want to tell you.

Gross Old Man (Ted)

Ofc. You literally have a key

Peter fiddled with his phone, hovering his thumbs over the keyboard as three little bubbles popped up in the corner of his screen.

Gross Old Man (Ted)

Do you need me to come pick you up?

Look, as much as Ted paraded around, essentially bragging about how much of an asshole he was, Peter knew that there were some things that he really, deeply cared about.

Peter’s pretty honoured that he qualifies for that position.

He looks at the door in front of him for a long moment before slotting his key into the lock. It slides open without much fuss and Peter swings the door in and steps inside.

Gross Old Man (Ted)

Did you just teleport to my apartment or do I need to call the cops?

Peter Spankoffski

Don’t worry, it’s me.

Gross Old Man (Ted)

K be down in a sec

Peter was just sitting down on the couch when Ted skidded into the room looking like he’d just woken up. Which, knowing him, he probably had.

“Hey kid, what’s up?”

Ted was wearing his normal I don’t give a shit about anyone or anything face, but there was a twinge in his voice that betrayed how concerned he really was. This immediately sent Peter into a panic because holy shit what if Ted hated him after this?

Time to divert his attention.

“Dude. It’s like, one in the afternoon. Are you seriously just now getting out of bed?”

Ted looked Peter over, taking note of his ramrod-straight posture and the way he was clenching his hands so tight that his knuckles were going white, and decided that he was not letting this one slide.

“Uh, yeah. Because someone randomly showed up at my apartment, then asked if I was here after pulling some secretive we need to talk bullshit. So,” Ted angled himself so that he was facing Peter head-on, “What’s going o—”

“I’M TRANS!”

He didn’t even let Ted finish his sentence before blurting it out and, after about 0.5 seconds of him not saying anything in response, just let everything tumble out.

“I’m not a girl, I’m a boy! And my name’s Peter! And I’ve known this for a while now and yes I’m sure and no it’s not just a phase!”

Ted blinked a few times as Peter’s anxiety kept building, wondering how he was going to react.

Then, he let out a relieved sigh and said, “Oh thank fuck. You really had me going there for a minute, I thought you were about to tell me that you had cancer or something, Petey. But yeah, that’s cool.”

Peter’s brain froze at how casually his name had slipped out of Ted’s mouth. Like it was no trouble at all to not only swap his name out, but use a nickname. Somehow, Ted treating him with the same affection he always did hadn’t been very high up on his list of potential reactions.

“So you’re not gonna like, freak out and make a big deal or anything?”

“What, do you want me to?”

“Mom and Dad did.”

Silence rang out for a moment as something dark crossed Ted’s face.

“You told mom and dad?”

Peter wrung his hands together nervously, “Yeah.”

“And? How did it go?”

“About as well as you’d expect.”

Ted hissed out a breath, leaning back and scrubbing a hand over his face. His gaze slid away from Peter, looking at the wall behind him to maintain his emotionally detached facade.

“That sucks dude. Look, I have an extra room, you can stay as long as you want to. Hell! You can move in as far as I—Shit!”

Peter’s not doing a great job today at letting Ted finish his sentences, but he couldn’t stop himself from launching himself at his older brother in an attack of a hug before he could see the tears that definitely weren’t welling up. Ted immediately wrapped his arms around Peter, pulling him in close and letting him exhale shaky breaths into his ratty shirt for as long as he needed.

They eventually separate, Petter surreptitiously wiping his eyes and Ted, for once, graciously pretending not to notice.

“Thanks, Ted,” Peter offered a wobbly smile, “That really means a lot.”

Ted just scoffed and waved his hand dismissively as though swatting the gratitude out of the air.

Then, apparently, Ted had had enough of all the emotions he’d dealt with so soon after waking up, and a mischievous twinkle found its way into his eye.

“Hold on. I still need to have my big freak out!”

“You really don’t.” Peter tried to reason with him, but his smile just grew and he could tell that it was pointless.

“OH HOLY SHIT! So you’re telling me that I have a FUCKING BROTHER NOW?!” Ted clasped Pater’s shoulders and jostled him around a bit, startling a laugh out of him.

“You’re saying that allllllllllll those times you threw temper tantrums about having to wear a dress—”

“They’re uncomfortable!”

“And used the kitchen scissors to cut your own hair off—”

“That was only like three times! Four if you count the one science experiment I did!”

“And only ever played as the male option in every game you could physically choose a male option—”

“I— Don’t actually have a defense for that one—Hey! Tehehehed cut it ohohohout!”

“Was because you’re a BOY?!” Ted had moved his hands from Peter’s shoulders to his sides, poking and prodding in time with his impassioned rant.

“Also,” He clawed into Peter’s ribs, raising his voice as he shrieked and curled up around his hands, “It’s fucking rude to interrupt people when they’re talking, Petey Pie!”

Peter managed to get a disgusted groan out around his cackles, “Dohohon’t fucking call me thahahahat! And let me gohohohoho!”

“Alright alright, I won’t kill you,” Ted retracted his hands with a final tweak to Peter’s side that had him batting his brother’s hand away through his giggles, “Not this time, at least.”

As Peter recovers from his attack, Ted stands up and dusts himself off before turning back to face him.

“Seriously though. I’m glad you told me, and you don’t have to go back home if you want to. We can wait until the old fucks are out and then go pick up your shit.”

The wave of warmth and affection for his brother that crashed over Peter nearly knocked the breath out of him. It’s not like they hadn’t been close when he was growing up, they’d gotten along well, but Ted was over a decade older and had moved out when he was young.

Still, after the shit he’d gone through with his parents earlier, the genuine and unconditional acceptance was a little overwhelming.

Before he could stop it, he said, “I love you, Ted.”

Ted visibly softened upon hearing that, a genuine smile crossing his face when he said, “I love you too, Pete. Now!” He clapped his hands together, “Let’s get some breakfast because I am starving!”

“It’s fucking lunch, dude! You slept like half the day!”

“Shut the fuck up you aren’t my dad! And also, it’s breakfast for me, so fuck you!”

Yeah, Peter had a feeling that things were going to be just fine.