#i spent so long on it please enjoy while i post it every other few days or something

[hehearse]

got another silly little comics for you <3

part [1] - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

btw you can get the full pdf for free or if you feel generous get it for a few coins here ^^

i will however post it all gradually here <3 it's just that it will take a bit of time

[luveline]

Hey my lovely, could i equest a blurb where reader seeks one of spencer's hugs and he's all soft and mushy about it!! I just think he'd give really warm hugs and want one so bad!

shy!reader + post!prison Spencer have a hug

Spencer understands why you might find him intimidating. He did go to prison for a few weeks, and even if the idea of his being a potential felon didn’t scare you, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous around the unknown. You’ve had a few more weeks to get to know the others on the team. He tries not to take it personally that you’re closer with some of them than you are him. 

Plus, you’re awfully shy. 

Spencer’s been trying to communicate that he’s an idiot. He was shy, once, and he tends to be shy about things now, too, even if he’s taken to hiding that. He hides a lot, these days. 

But things aren’t hopeless with you. You’re inarguably his best work friend now that Morgan’s not around, taking the desk next to his —through coincidence or insistence, he has no idea. 

“What flavour do you have today?” he asks. 

You show him your bag. The convenience store outside of work has the strangest sweets from all sorts of places. You’ve been bringing in a different bag each day, and you always share. “Today is apricot and peach ‘millions’,” you tell him, shaking the bright pink bag like a rattle. 

Inside, the millions bounce against each other like miniscule polystyrene balls but with a heavier weight. 

“Awesome!” he says, holding out his hand. “Please?” 

You rip the corner and tip a generous helping of candies into his palm, doing the same in your own hand. “Ready?” you ask. 

“Three, two, one.” 

You both tip your heads back at the same time. Apricot and peach are similar flavours, and Spencer can’t tell the difference when they’re both in play. He can also taste apple juice and the sharp citric acid flavour they put in every candy. 

He can’t tell if you like them. He quite enjoys it, will happily eat the leftovers if you’re not interested, but your attention isn’t on the candy when he looks up. You’re staring straight at him. 

“What?” he asks, perturbed. 

“Nothing, just. Had a rough morning. Thanks for trying the candy with me.” 

He frowns. “I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I can make you a cup of hot chocolate?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Spencer’s sure that to an outsider, he and the team appear to travel to a hundred cities a month. In reality, cases aren’t as densely packed, especially with the government expanding their profiling teams, and the majority of Spencer’s day is spent answering emails and giving advice to agents, law enforcement, and his colleagues. He doesn’t see much of you (where you’re forced to work ViCAP calibration as newbies usually are, almost like a hazing) but he does take you that hot chocolate around lunch time. Just to make sure you have the option. 

It’s sometime past four PM when you appear again. 

“Hey,” he says, turning to you where you’re paused behind your desk chair, “you're finally done?” 

“Not yet. So many case files to transcribe, opinions to cross check, signatures and…” You wince. “It’s a lot. You already know.” 

“I don’t, actually. I only ever had to do ViCAP as punishment, and I was extremely well-behaved. For a while, anyway.” 

You hesitate with something heavy on the tip of your tongue. You’re like every profiler wherein your tells are self-identified and quelled, but you’re still so new, and Spencer’s an expert. You want to ask him for something, but you don’t think you’re allowed. If he presses the issue you’ll shut down, and if he offers you another cup of hot chocolate you’ll simply drink it without letting him in on the real secret. 

Spencer waits. 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say yes, just… You’re the nicest friend I have, and you always know what I need to hear. Um, I know you don’t like touching people and I wouldn’t ask you to if you don’t want to, but it’s been a really long time since someone hugged me, and…” Your voice gets quieter and quieter, until you’re whispering, and then fizzling out. 

“You want a hug?” he asks, surprised. 

“If that’s okay.” 

“I give really good hugs,” he warns, climbing from his chair immediately, arms opened, an unmissable invitation. “You’ll never get over it.” 

“Really?” 

He can’t believe you came to him specifically for a hug. He’s gonna lose his mind. Gentle, Spencer ushers you into his arms, head quick to duck down, his thumb on your shoulder. 

You could’ve asked anybody in the office for a hug. Penelope would have hugged your brains out. Emily, Unit Chief and secret sweetheart, would’ve taken you off of ViCAP and given you a loving pat on the back. But you didn’t ask Penelope or Emily, you asked him. 

“You don’t have to ask me first,” he says quietly. 

“You don’t like touching.” 

“That’s more to do with germs, and I’m not worried about yours,” he says. “Unless you’re about to tell me you have a headache.” 

“It’s like this pounding behind my eyes,” you say with a laugh. 

Spencer smiles, his mouth and nose to the side of your head. He gives you a good ten seconds of quiet, his palm warming your shoulder, before he murmurs, “Any better?” 

“You’re really warm,” you murmur back. 

Spencer resists the urge to squeeze you. “It's the oxytocin.”

“Or you’re just really, really warm.”

[ooffies]

Brushing their hair!

author's note: hi everyone! It's been awhile since I last wrote but I've been itching to post/write again. This has been sitting in my drafts for like a four months so don't mind if it's a bit rough. I hope you enjoy!!! :)

Characters: Leona & Jamil

Warning: None!

Jamil Viper:

Jamil’s long, silky hair was always such a treat to brush. Sure, it takes a very long time to work through but he enjoys these rare chances to relax. You enjoyed it as well, perhaps even more! Finding any excuse to allow your boyfriend to take a break.

If you’re not brushing his hair first thing in the morning, more likely than not all the tangles will already have been brushed out. During the day he is often busy scampering from place to place, either housewarden duties or student activities. So, this activity is often reserved for the end of the day, allowing you both to unwind from the stress from the day.

This activity is often spent in a comfortable silence. Jamil’s eyes closed, muscles relaxed and sitting cross-legged on his bed. He simply enjoys your company, the feelings of your fingers and the brush running through his hair. In an almost sleep-like state but never actually falling asleep. Causal small talk isn’t unwelcome though, he enjoys hearing the little details about your day, recent gossip or whatever stupid shenanigans the headmage put you up to. But he often doesn’t talk much about his day unless asked, preferring to be the listener since you are the most interesting thing to him.

As much as it was a treat, brushing Jamil’s hair was a task you had to be meticulous about. Well… It was more like you wanted to be meticulous about it. Making sure to gently brush through every long strand with utmost care and precision. And once you were done, he’d lay his head on your lap as you ran your fingers through it and braiding it as you please

Brushing hair is a mutual form of affection with him! Although he never outright asks to do it, he will always do it when you ask him. Or if he sees you have a tangle, he’ll just grab the brush without a word and get to work. But styling your hair is his favorite! For whatever type of hair texture you have, Jamil has learned to work with it. Memorizing all different braids, twists and other things you enjoy having done to your hair.

Leona Kingscholar:

More often than not, this man has tangles in his hair, despite it mostly looking flawless on the outside. Just lift up a few layers of his thick hair and you’ll find yourself a tangle or two. He enjoys the pampering of getting his hair brushed by you. He will complain if you brush too hard but he’s never too serious about it.

You can brush his hair whenever really. While hanging out in his room or the gardens, helping him put it up for spell drive practice, you kinda have free reign over it. But he will only ever let you style it to your heart’s content when you're in private. Sure, throw it up into the occasional ponytail or redo his braids in-between classes but pigtails and all those cute clips you have are only to be put on in either of your rooms, far, far away from the public eye. He’ll surely complain about how stupid and childish pigtails look on him but will he stop you? No, he won’t. Cause you're his beloved partner and you're giving him affection. It’s your partner privileges to play with his hair as you please! Just make sure to give him a little extra smooch or two while at it if you want less complaining on his end.

If he’s not napping while you're brushing his hair, you two are chatting away. He prefers listening to you talk but he’ll still be willing to tell you more about his day as well. This chit chat can range from basic chatter to discussing future plans and dreams. Or maybe it’ll take the direction of something nostalgic like childhood stories or something silly like the stupid prick who kept beating him on an online chess website. Whatever it is, he’ll never miss the chance to talk with you!

© ooffies 

Please do not repost or translate my work without permission and credit. Thank you!

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[erwinsvow]

𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐬

summary: aaron hotchner is a lot of things. in love with you is one that you never saw coming.

word count: 7.1k

author's note: bau!reader + hotch is my favorite combo ever. i haven't written and posted in, like, two years so please be nice :) i've written so many other versions of hotch but this one just wrote itself. inspired by the amazing @luveline and so many breathtaking hotch stories and isabel (alisdas on ao3, not on here anymore i think :( ) who wrote of terrible coffee and late-night rides which i think started all of this and my immense aaron brain rot when i read that fic, like, three years ago. enjoy!

This was wrong, Aaron thought to himself. He seldom committed acts that others might say were wrong, or argue they could potentially be wrong, but this was different. Aaron felt wrong, a feeling he was not used to.

“I’m worried about you, that’s all,” you had said quietly on the jet early one morning. You two were sitting across from each other on the flight back from the team’s latest solved case, an excruciating long ride home from the coast of Oregon.

Your book laid open on your lap, unread and a bookmark tucked between the earlier pages. The spine was cracked, like you’d read it a hundred times before. He knew that wasn’t true though, it was just a used novel probably from the thrift store around the corner of your apartment.

You had told him once, back when you first started—back when he was still married and you were less affected by this job—that you liked finding used (pre-loved, you call it) books and picking the most worn out ones to take home. You said it means that someone used to love this book.

It felt wrong because you were too young for him, and too innocent to be mixed up in his life. What could you know about his thoughts? About the love of his life that divorced him and his son he only sees once in a while.

The rest of the team makes jokes with you, in particular JJ and Penelope. He’s even heard Emily pitch in, about your not-so-secret fondness for your boss. For him. 

Back when you had first started, it was nothing. Passing glances, working extra hard to please him and earn his praise—which was never given out generously. He hadn’t even taken the time to notice, never paid more attention than any other member of the team. What he did notice was your work ethic.

Being among the youngest of the team had instilled a drive in you to prove your worth. You always stayed an hour extra, came early, and spent  nights working the case even when you were yawning every few minutes. The most attention he’d given you back then was commenting that you’d had a good insight into the unsub, commending you on well-written reports and briefs, and offering you a cup of coffee when it was just you and him left in the sheriff’s office. He’d be rereading seemingly endless pages of the case reports and you’d be diving headfirst into the victim’s lives.

Your specialty was always understanding why the victims did what they did, figuring out their routines and ascertaining important details from their personal belongings. He was used to you flicking through diaries and boxes of mementos that were once treasured by another young girl, not so much older than yourself. 

He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought it was impacting you—reading through the journals of dead women who had been very similar to yourself, with similar hopes and dreams. It was depressing, he knew, and yet if you were bothered by it, you didn’t show it in the slightest. At least not to him. 

And back then, he’d never notice the sweet smile that always graced your face when he was asking you if you’d like coffee. You’d shake your head no, and take sips of water between your yawns. You didn’t even tell him that you don’t drink coffee until a few months later, after he asked if you’d ever like a cup when he offered. He can remember it clearly even now.

“Actually, Hotch, I don’t drink coffee.” Your cheeks were tinged with color like you were embarrassed to even be admitting this to him.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner? I would have stopped asking three months ago.” If he sounded stern, he didn't mean to. The burning on your face deepened.

“I didn’t want to be rude. I drink tea though, but I didn’t think to mention it. It’s not as easy to make.”

“Well, let me know if you need a cup of hot water then.”

You had smiled at that, and he had turned around to take another picture on the bulletin board. He smiled a little too.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he said, maybe a little too gruffly. He didn’t mean it, again, but it just came out that way. He thinks some part of him is trying to warn you to stay away before you get too close.

“We’re all worried. You went through something really big and didn’t tell any of us and even if you don’t care about us like that, I care about you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

Aaron’s gaze casts around the rest of the jet.  Derek has his headphones in, staring out the window and trying to resist sleep. JJ and Emily are playing cards—they should be sleeping, but they had a little too much espresso a few hours before. They’re too far away to hear you and Aaron speaking, but he notices JJ’s eyes darting over every once in a while. Spence is asleep, and he realizes that’s why it’s so quiet. Dave is reading a book, too, but he’ll stop and interject into JJ and Emily’s conversation.

He looks back at you, sleepy-eyed and wrapped in a warm, boxy pullover from your alma mater. He thinks a little bit too much about you these days, and he can’t get it to stop. He shouldn’t profile anyone on the team, they have a strict moratorium on that, but especially not you.

You, who never fails to try to make anyone feel better when they’re down. You, who doesn’t make it seem like you’re analyzing their behavior, but rather observing and offering comfort in hard times. You remember everything the team tells you about their likes and dislikes, never forgetting a birthday or special occasion. He can distinctly recall fresh chocolate chip cookies on Derek’s birthday, carrot cake from the Italian bakery Rossi loves to celebrate when his latest book became a bestseller, and a new knick knack for Penelope’s office after a particularly brutal case.

You say it’s all in passing, but he knows it’s not. You’re trying your hardest to keep the team together in the little ways, strengthening bonds that extend beyond coworkers. You want to fit in and be accepted, and you worry so much that you won’t. This is your way of trying to show that you’re a part of this team too, not just the new girl and one of the young ones. 

Aaron blinks twice. You’re looking at him expectantly, and he wishes you wouldn’t. All he’ll do is disappoint you. 

“You don’t need to worry,” he repeats. “I’ll be fine.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t say that. Why is it so bad for us to worry about you?” You look like you’re starting to get upset—it hurts Aaron more than he realized it would. It’s not bad for the others to worry, it’s bad for you. If you get attached, if he lets this get unprofessional, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive himself. Hurting himself is one thing; hurting you is another entirely.

“Let it go, Agent. Try to get some rest.” He looks out the window. He can see the sun coming up, and realizes he hasn’t slept since the night before last. He still needs to drive home—not really home, he remembers sadly, his empty apartment— and work on reports before he can even see Jack. He doesn’t think resting now is a good idea, and yet his body is so tired.

When he looks back, you’re reading your book again but your eyes are really paying attention to the words on the page. You’re just skimming, and blinking rapidly, and he realizes then he’s made you tear up.

His phone goes off—Haley, and he feels guilt building up in his chest, almost overwhelming him. He steps away to answer and talks quietly. He doesn’t want you to overhear and worry even more. When he comes back to his seat, you’ve fallen asleep. He takes the book from your hands gently and puts the bookmark in, closing it and resting it on the seat beside you. He watches you sleep and wonders if he’s making a mistake trying to hide from you. He thinks, and not for the first time, that you see right through him.

The plane lands an hour and a half later, and everyone is beyond exhausted. Even Spencer, who normally doesn’t need much energy or caffeine to start talking fast about something interesting he noticed about this case and this unsub, is unusually quiet. They’re all running on fumes, staying up two nights in a row profiling and then catching the unsub with the latest victim at one in the morning, and then boarding the jet soon after.

Aaron makes a decision, everyone can work on their notes from home and the report is due no later than day after next. Derek pats him on the shoulder and says no one is to call him for the next twenty-four hours. JJ and Emily exchange a laugh. Y

ou, he notices, though he wishes he wouldn’t, go up to Spencer and talk with him quietly. When you’re done, he beams at you and you at him. He wonders what you two talked about when they’re all heading out, listening to Spencer ramble about how the unsub’s use of his childhood spots as disposal sites offers insight into the abuse of his youth. Prentiss tells him to save it for the report. 

He and Rossi are walking back to their cars when Dave speaks up for the first time.

“You’re wondering what she said to him, aren’t you?”

Aaron stops for a moment. 

“You should know better than to profile me.”

“Oh, I’m not profiling. This is just me being observant. You should stop fiddling with your ring finger when you talk to her. It’s a dead giveaway.”

“Dave, I don’t need to tell you that this conversation—“

“I know, I know. I won’t mention it again if you don’t want me to.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Aaron. And by the way, she offered to write his notes for him if he wanted. He said it’s hard for him to write about unsubs with schizophrenic tendencies and she said she can try to help, if he wants. That’s all. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about this.”

Aaron gets in his car and doesn’t stop thinking about you the entire ride home.

-

You wish you could make it stop. The way you feel about your boss. It started so long ago, it’s almost a part of you now. Aaron is stern and his disposition is frightening, to the say the least. But only at first, you’ve realized, after so many late evenings spent discussing the case with him, breaking down the tiniest details, and him paying attention to your every word when you discuss the victim’s demeanor and behavior to try to figure out what had really happened.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you thought. You had gone to the overpopulated state school with the hopes of entering the medical field. You were a true empath, and there was no one’s suffering you couldn’t relate to, no one that you wouldn’t try to make feel better. All your life, people cried on your shoulder while you offered up words of comfort. And because of this, everyone thought you were a shoo-in for nursing or medical school, where you could help people through the worst days of their life.

All it took was a few days at the hospital where you had been working, a string of murder victims being wheeled in one after another, for you to reconsider your life’s work. None had survived the incident, but the killer let them live just long enough to be seen by the doctor, who then had to declare them legally dead.

Something about the victims seemed familiar to you, how they’d all come from wealthy families and were sliced up in their expensive clothing, expensive jewelry and watches smashed to bits instead of being stolen. You mentioned it to one of the officiers, who told someone else, and somewhere in that chain of events, your insight helped them catch the killer.

It was then, you thought, that maybe you should be working on the other side of these situations. Stopping the killer before it ever got to this. 

Then you’d done a one-hundred and eighty degree spin on your career, electing to pursue becoming an agent. You had been young, and motivated, and you chose to overlook when everyone told you this job might become your whole life, leaving no time for a husband and kids and a family.

You had ignored it all, working your way up from the local field office to child crimes in just a year and a half. The transition out of sex crimes to homicide was disturbingly hard, because at least before you’d had a victim to interview. You were no expert, not yet, but a unique asset altogether, combining a true mission to uncover the best in each victim, and figuring out their behavior patterns from bedrooms and diaries.

It was a unique skill-set, acquired mostly because a lot of traumatized children didn’t offer much to go off of. You had to turn to their childhood homes, toys, and scribbles to figure out what had been going on in the first place.

You reflect often on why you decided to leave child homicide when news spread that the BAU had an opening for one more agent. Truthfully, you hadn’t considered it at all, since you were more than happy with your current position and coworkers. You were solving cases, delivering justice, and bringing whatever comfort you could bring to grieving families.

In fact, you had been requested specifically. You, out of a hundred or more well-established, intelligent agents that could be a huge asset to the team. You were never special, and you didn’t like to think of yourself in that way either, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to hear that the team wanted you. 

And when you transferred over, everyone was so nice. The team was inviting, they respected your opinion, and especially in cases with younger victims, they revered your knowledge. You felt included, and invaluable, and as hard as you worked, you wanted to work even harder. 

Your boss was a brilliant agent and profiler, and so hardworking that you wanted to do anything you could to make his workload a little easier. You wrote the most detailed reports, so he would have to edit them as much.. You offered to pick up extra briefs, so he took home a couple less papers. And no matter what you did, acknowledged or not, you knew you were making the kind of difference you’d always dreamed you would. 

Aaron—he was only ever Aaron in your head, and Hotch the rest of the  time—liked you as an agent, and it made you happy. A little happier than you should be, considering he was happily married with a toddler and a perfect life outside of work. It was almost wrong, but it didn’t stop you from trying to impress him with your work ethic.

You always put aside your other feelings and focused on the team, and somehow in all of that, you felt like you were finally making your difference. You were close with the team and close enough with Aaron, that you hadn’t been worried to start that conversation on the jet now that all these circumstances were changing. Haley had asked for a divorce and he hadn’t muttered a word of it to anyone.

He’s so tired, you can see. You wonder if everyone else notices it too, or if it’s just you observing so closely. He has dark circles now, because he never sleeps, always working, and the furrows on his forehead are seemingly etched in and permanent. He misses his wife and his son, and you know it, and maybe it’s wrong to care about your boss so much that your heart hurts when you see him glancing at the framed photos of his family on his desk, or the tiny polaroids in his wallet, but you do. You think you’re in love with Aaron Hotchner, and you don’t know how to make it stop. 

You’re gonna get hurt, you remind yourself every now and then. 

Aaron and Spence have just come back from the prison, where they had an encounter with Chester Hardwick that they won’t really talk about. You’d been with the rest of the team in Indiana, and then two days later in Oregon. 

Aaron and Haley were divorcing, and it hurt him so much, you knew, because it wasn't for a lack of love. It was a lack of time, a shortness of hours in the day. He couldn’t be the husband Haley wanted and the father he thought Jack needed while being an agent for eighteen hours a day. It hurt you too, seeing him like this. You wish he felt better. 

The days and weeks seemed to blend into months. Somewhere in between Hotch’s divorce and JJ’s pregnancy, you had become complacent with your relationship with Aaron. Walking in together from the parking lot, leaving together at the end of a long day—usually alone and sometimes joined by Emily or David. Sometimes you’d have a frothy drink from a nearby coffee shop in your hand—to which you always hear, “My coffee’s not better than that stuff?”

“It’s not coffee, remember-”

“I know, you don’t drink coffee. That stuff is full of sugar. I don’t need you bouncing off the walls like Reid and Garcia too.”

You laugh, and then you wonder if it’s because he really cares or if it was just a passing comment. You share a lot of little moments like that. 

When his eardrum was nearly blown out after New York, you almost offered to drive back with him from Ohio to Virginia. It was instinct, because you just didn’t want him to be alone. You had exchanged a glance when he handed you the plate of brownies from the victim’s mother, and you knew he had read your mind. But he didn’t say anything, and you left it at that. You’re not nearly stupid enough to think that your boss reciprocates your feelings for him. Hell, most days you don’t even know what feelings you have for him.

Your seats on the jet are almost permanently fixed; near the coffee machine towards the cockpit. You sit across from each other, and sometimes you don’t even speak. He’ll bring you a cup of hot water, and he doesn’t ask if you need a tea bag from the make-shift coffee station, because knows they’re in your go-bag. 

When it’s his weekend with Jack after two weeks of back-to-back cases, Aaron is always working on the reports on the jet. It’s because he’s trying to reduce how much work he has to do at home, and even when everyone’s fallen asleep and your eyes are close to shutting, you get up and make him a cup of coffee. He’s never once told you how he takes it, and he doesn’t know if you’ve seen him make it either, but somehow you know, and it’s always right. When you offer him the steaming paper cup, he looks up at you with an entirely new look—something you’ve never seen before. You two don’t exchange so many words.

He says it all with his eyes, sometimes, even when you’re not looking. It’s gratitude. (When you get off the jet a few hours later, you tease Morgan about his snoring. Derek asks you where his cup of coffee is, and you shove his arm so hard he almost drops his bag.

In the end, it was you who had figured out there was something wrong with the Reaper’s last few victims. 

“Why would a nineteen year old girl date her teaching assistant?” You had questioned, looking through a file that everyone’s eyes had already seen. “An honors student, a freshman, I mean, none of this points to an illicit affair with faculty. She knew it was against the rules and her roommates said she’s never so much as skipped class.”

“That could have been because she wants to see him,” Derek interjects. “If they were truly in love like Foyet said, she’d take every opportunity to be with him.”

“But in an environment where no one can know you two are together? I mean, if she was in love and close to getting engaged, wouldn’t she tell her best friends? Her parents? How many teenage girls keep something like that just to themselves?”

The pieces of the puzzle that had once fit together so nicely were coming undone. It felt like the blink of an eye, from catching Foyet to him escaping. Everyone was on edge, no one more than Aaron, and your empathy still knew no bounds. Where you had once been able to focus on work and dedicate all your thoughts to the cases, you now were distracted and distant. Every other thought was about Aaron, as wrong as that might be. 

Canada had been something else entirely. It was difficult for the entire team to fathom, but nearly impossible for you. You had lost your temper twice—something you’d never done before— and thrown up when the team discovered all the shoes. JJ had run after you but in the end, Aaron was the one who found you outside.

“I’m sorry, JJ, I’ll be fine—I-I just need a minute,” you breath out, chest heaving and tears brimming. 

“It’s okay,” Aaron says, “take your time.” 

You turn around so fast, your breath catching, and you hate this situation. You could never hate Aaron but you hate this, you hate that he followed you and that he’s seeing you like this. You look weak, after two and a half years of trying to prove to him that you’re strong—strong enough to handle this job, do what needs to be done, and not cry at a crime scene.

“I-I’m sorry, I-” 

“Why are you apologizing?” He doesn’t sound mad, or like he’s belittling you, and you don’t know why that’s what you expected. This is Aaron, your Aaron, and even though he’s not really yours it doesn't seem to matter much right now.

“I’m making a scene. I-I shouldn’t be throwing up on the job or screaming at those unsubs or anything else-”

“It’s okay. It happens.” Aaron says it so concisely, you almost feel better for a second. Isn’t this what it’s always come down to? You need Aaron like air, and somehow he always knows what you need to hear. He doesn’t treat you any differently compared to the others but it feels different today. You can’t describe it in words. If JJ or Morgan had followed you out here, you would have said the same things, but you wouldn’t have felt this way. Like if you crumble here today, Aaron will be there to pick you up.

“Take your time, please,” he repeats. “I know you think you have something to prove to me, but you don’t. You’ve proven it already, to all of us. Admitting that all of this gets to you isn’t a bad thing. That’s what separates us from them.”

At that moment, a dam bursts. Tears flow down your face like they haven’t in so long, as long as you can remember. You think you should feel embarrassed, crying in front of your boss, but Aaron takes you into his arms and you can’t remember the last time you felt this safe. Cheesy, you think, but this is everything I thought it would be and more.

You’re not sure how long he holds you there, but eventually once the front of his shirt is covered in your tears and he offers you a tissue (Does he just carry this around waiting for one of us to cry?) and you head back together. This is the embarrassing part, you think, bracing yourself and biting your inner cheek. But if the team is judging you at this moment, they certainly don’t show it.

You join JJ and Emily inside the house, who ask you if you’re okay when you sniffle for the last time. Spencer asks you later, on the way home. Derek tells you to call him if you need anything. Dave tells you, “You’ll be okay, kid,” and somehow, you believe him. Penelope texts you once on your phone, checking in and promising a distracting, gossip filled girl’s night out soon.

Aaron walks you to your car, and says goodnight. You’re delusional, you think, once you're back at home. You’ve taken the longest, hottest shower imaginable and your record player is emitting the scratchy sound of your favorite Beatles album. You’re in a big shirt that’s getting wet while you brush your freshly cleaned hair and all you can think about is how it felt to be wrapped in Aaron’s arms a couple hours ago. 

You are delusional, you remind yourself. You’re checking your phone every couple minutes like a love-sick teenager. You think Aaron’s going to call you to check in, you almost feel it in your bones. You leave the ringer on incase he calls later—maybe he showered and sat down to work on some reports before sleeping. You fall asleep thirty minutes later, exhausted down to your bones, and wake up startled by your phone going off. In your sleepy delirium, you answer without looking who it is—assuming it’s Aaron.

“Hotch?” 

“Hey, sorry it’s JJ. We have another case, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, JJ, um, okay, I-I’ll be there in ten. Text the address, okay?” Your cheeks burn at the slip.

“I sent it just now. Listen, I’m sorry, but can you try Hotch’s cell? I called and texted and he’s not answering.” You feel your stomach turn, first because Aaron isn’t answering and he always answers, and second because JJ thinks he’ll answer if you call.

“I’ll try him now. I’ll call you back.”

You try him twice while changing and another time in the car. Your only explanation is that maybe he went to see Jack and put his phone away, but even that doesn’t check out. 

When you get to the scene, you inform the others about Aaron not answering.

“Alright, let’s split up for now and I’ll keep trying Hotch,” Derek says. They don’t seem that worried, and maybe that lulls you into not worrying either. After all, they’ve known him a lot longer than you have.

You end up with Spencer and Emily at the doctor’s house, combing through patient files Garcia sent over. There’s tens of dozens, and even though you want to go with Emily to Aaron’s place to get him, you know your experience with kids and in the hospital is vital. You and Spencer start working, but something feels off. You just can’t place it. 

In the end, you attribute it to your nerves from the last case. Your fear of embarrassing yourself carried into today, and even though you know no one judged you for losing it in Canada, the feeling lingers. Spencer answers the phone from Emily and says that Hotch was busy with something at the bureau that now requires Emily too. In the end, you and Spence figure it out just in time. Your body is so tired, it hurts, and then on top of that, Spencer gets hurt. You can barely process what’s happening, and you don’t feel better until the doctor says it’s through-and-through.

“God, Spencer, never do that again,” you say, your hands wet with the blood from his wound. You wipe it on your clothes, thinking you’ll change soon. 

“Guys, guys listen to me, something’s happened to Hotch.” The blood drains from your face and your breath stops in your throat. 

“What?” 

“Emily told me not to say anything until we got the unsub, but he’s in the hospital.”

The next hour is a blur. You all show up to the hospital, and Emily is talking to a bunch of agents. Their faces are blurred because you can hardly think straight. 

“Em? Is he okay?” your words must be coming out frantically because everyone’s looking at you like you’re about to crumble. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t say anything because I knew we wouldn’t be able to think straight about the case, I know it’s wrong but-”

“Is he okay?” You didn’t mean to cut her off, it just happened like that. Your mind is so clouded right now with a petrifying vision of Aaron dying alone on the floor of his new apartment that he hates so much, while you were waiting for a call for him.

“He-he hasn’t woken up yet.” 

You sit on a chair by Aaron’s bed. He looks like he’s sleeping, and a part of you had always wanted to see him like this. It would be comforting, if he actually was sleeping. You’d imagined it a little differently—you thought for sure he snores and sleeps on his side. You always notice sleep lines only on one arm when you guys have just woken up and continue working on the case. You stare extra hard when he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt on particularly hot days. Everyone would moan and groan about another case in the heat of Texas or Arizona, but not you.

It seems like those memories were a million years ago. 

When he wakes up, everyone pours in and it distracts you for a few heartbeats. When they realize what Foyet is actually after, the terror is apparent on everyone's faces. You realize how long it’s been since you last saw Haley and Jack when they finally step into the room. You and Emily leave to give them privacy. 

Later that night, you’re back in that chair. Aaron wakes up for a few minutes at a time, and when he finally stays awake, he notices you.

“How long have I been out?” 

“Thirty minutes. Give or take.”

“Is there water?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You scramble up to get the pitcher and pour him a glass. There’s a straw too, which you put in the cup and hold still for a second so he can drink.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.” He can see all your emotions on your face. It doesn’t take him long at all, not anymore. You’ve been crying and your clothes have blood on them. He’s alarmed again.

“Is that your blood?” he asks, swallowing hard.

“No, no, Hotch. We had a case, the-the unsub shot Spence. He’s okay though, it just got on me and I haven’t been back home to change yet.”

“Why don’t you? Go home?”

“I didn’t want to leave you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I let you go home alone yesterday and look what happened.” You smile meekly at your own joke, hoping he appreciates it. He lies still though, not smiling. 

“I think you should go home. Get some rest after everything.”

“You know, Hotch, only you would tell me to go home and rest up when you’re the one who’s currently in the hospital.” 

“I just think-”

“Do you want me to leave? If you do, I will. I swear.” There’s silence between you two for a moment.

“No.” 

“Good, because I wasn’t going to.” The corners of his mouth turn up a little. You barely even notice it. “I can’t leave now. I don’t want you to sit alone here.” You should stop talking, you think to yourself. But you don’t. “You know yesterday, I got home and the whole time I sat there wondering if you were gonna call my cell. I even turned the ringer up all the way so I didn’t miss it. And I know that’s stupid because why would you call me? But I had this feeling. And now all I can think is why didn’t I call you?”

“Don’t think like-”

“Don’t think like that? Yeah, I knew you would say that. But if I had called you like I wanted to, and asked you to come over like I wanted to, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But I didn’t because I was scared and I don’t want to be scared anymore. And I know this is the last thing you need to hear right now, but I guess I can’t hold it in any longer.” 

You want to clamp your hand over your mouth. Your favorite cheesy rom-coms have infiltrated your brain, and you can’t fathom how stupid you must sound right now to Aaron. He’s just almost died and the kid who was the last to join his team is declaring love for him on his hospital bed. But it won’t stop coming out.

“Can I tell you something Aaron? I mean, more than I already have? Emily said she didn’t tell me you were hurt because she knew I wouldn’t be able to think straight about the case anymore. About anything, anymore, if I knew you were missing or that you were hurt or dead. And I’ve been trying to hide it for so long, because I know you don’t need any more complications in your life right now, but, I think I have feelings for you, Aaron.” Hot tears stream down your face. You try to stop them but you can’t. They’ve been building up for two years.

“Please don’t cry. I don’t have a tissue for you this time.” You smile through your tears, but your entire body is still tense. It’s because you’re still expecting bad news, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Do you want me to leave? I can call Emily, she’ll sit with you if you don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t want you to leave. And you don’t have to tell me these things, I already knew them.” Another few tears drip down your face. Aaron’s chest hurts more than it has ever before. He thinks back to your conversation on the jet that day, when you told him you cared about him and he hadn’t said much of anything at all. “I hope you know that I have feelings for you, too.” 

“You mean you care about me and the team?” you question half-heartedly. You think you’ve already gotten your answer. “I mean I care about the team a lot. And I care about you more than I should, more than what’s right. More than a superior should care about one of their agents. And I think if this hadn’t happened, I would have called you last night. Not because of the case, because of you. Because I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest. Aaron reaches out his hand a little, and you take it into yours. You sit like that for a long time, and you know there’s so much else going on, but a small part of you sighs in relief. Aaron is okay, and he feels about you how you do about him, and maybe everything will be okay in the end. 

The months after Haley’s funeral are tough for everyone. It’s weird going to work and not seeing Aaron. Sometimes you inadvertently make a cup of coffee how he likes it and have no one to give it to. You started drinking some, even though it tastes bitter and terrible, it makes you feel close to him.

How stupid is that, you wonder one day, sipping the coffee and looking over files with JJ. If the rest of the team thinks you're stupid, they haven’t shown any signs of it yet. You’re sure they mostly feel bad for you and your pathetic behavior. You’ve gotten sloppy because you can’t stop thinking about how Aaron is doing. 

You and the team will go visit him and Jack at his new place. You make cookies, snickerdoodle for Aaron and oatmeal raisin for Jack.

“What kind of a kid are you?” you questioned, helping Jack scribble in his Captain America coloring book. He’s munching on a cookie while you try to figure out what part of the shield is blue and what part is red. “I mean, who likes oatmeal raisin cookies at the tender age of 5?” 

“I did,” Spencer says, taking another one out of the tin. 

“You don’t count, genius,” Morgan says, and then directs his gaze at you. “And I mean come on, no chocolate chip for me? None at all? That hurts.”

“I made you some like two weeks ago! I have a job, you know,” you fire back. Aaron laughs, eating the snickerdoodle after dipping it in milk. It’s so domestic, you feel yourself staring. You only turn away when he catches you looking. 

When he comes back, you wonder if it’ll ever feel normal again. That silly routine you two had, the chairs on the jet near the coffee machine that you still sit in, walks to your car. 

At first, it just feels strange. So much has changed yet the team’s dynamic remains the same. You get through cases with the same ferocity you had when you first started, eager to prove your worth again. Your reports detail every detail and then some, and you stay even later than Aaron some nights. You need something to focus on, and your cases seem like the best option. The other option is to have another conversation with Aaron about your feelings and you think you might die if that happens.

When it finally does happen, it’s plenty embarrassing. You were so sure about your theory about this unsub, so sure that he would confess if he was confronted about his crimes and reminded of the humanity of his victims—three little kids, all under ten. Maybe that’s why it bothered you so much, and that’s why you stormed into the residence even though the rest of the team was screaming at you not to. In the end, you talk him down, but Aaron runs in behind you anyways and nearly spooks the unsub into suicide.

“You do not have the authorization to make calls like that,” Aaron yells at you, and though you had once thought you would die if he yelled at you, it’s all too easy to yell back. 

In that moment, when you had known what would happen, dealing with your area of expertise, he stormed in and questioned you and your abilities as an agent and as a profiler.

“I don’t need authorization, I knew what would happen, and I knew how to talk him down without this ending in gunfire—”

“I don’t care what you think you knew. This is a team, and we don’t make decisions that jeopardize a case without agreeing on it!” “You mean you have to agree with every decision I make? I had it handled, Hotch, you almost blew that whole thing up because you didn’t believe in me!”

“That’s not what this is about,” he fires back, and it feels strange to be yelling at you. He can’t recall the last time he’s ever done this. The rest of the team is just packing up in the police station, trying not to overhear but not really having any choice in the matter.

“Yes it is! You don’t trust me! Not to make decisions for this team and for our cases, or for anything. You just proved that back there. You don’t trust me.” It’s happening again. Tears brew in your eyes. They spill down before you can stop it. Aaron softens before your very eyes at the sight of them. “Stop! Stop feeling bad just because now I’m crying, they’re not tears for you, they’re angry tears and I can’t control it-”

“Of course, I trust you.” His voice has dropped from a yell to just above a whisper. “How could you think that I don’t?”

“I’m not stupid, Aaron. I know what I’m doing. My plan was going to work and you shot me down in front of everyone because you didn’t believe in me,” you say between tears. “Nothing’s changed.”

“And what do you think would happen if you stormed in there and I lost you too?” His voice is gentle. You hadn’t noticed that he was so close to you now. You can see the eyelash on his cheek and feel the heat radiating from his body. 

“That’s not what this is about.”

“That is exactly what this is about. You think I don’t trust you, so I won’t let you walk into a confrontation alone? That I think you don’t know how to profile, how to handle these unsubs, so I get into a screaming match outside a crime scene? Tell me, does that check with any of my behavior in the years I’ve known you?”

“I don’t know, Hotch, I don’t profile you.”

“You call me Hotch in front of everyone, and especially when you’re upset with me. When it’s just us you use Aaron. You know how I take my coffee even though I’ve never told you, because you pay attention even when no one else is looking. Cases with children affect you the most, especially when it takes us longer to work them, because you think you should be quicker and figure out the unsub faster since you worked with kids before joining the team. You remember the little things everyone says because you don’t want them to think you’re not paying attention to them. You cry about cases when you feel like there’s something more you should have done, even though there’s nothing else any of us can do. And you cry about me the most of all, that time on the jet, in the hospital, and just now because you think I don’t share your feelings. You think I know all this because I’m profiling you, but it’s not. It’s because I pay attention to those whom I love.” 

Shell shocked. You are shell shocked at Aaron’s speech, eyes wide and mouth open. You’re sure the rest of the team, hidden behind a bulletin board and the conference table is much the same. 

“I’m going to kiss you now. And that’s the end of the conversation about me not trusting you, okay?” You nod dumbly. Aaron’s lips are sweet and taste like his coffee—black, with two sugars. You feel another tear falling but it’s only because you hadn’t expected any of that. 

“That took long enough,” David says from behind the partition. 

and voila <3

[misfitgirlwrites]

Lucifer Having A Crush On You/How Would He React?

I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'M NOT--

It's time for my fictional love and life and all I hold dear in my daydreams. Bitches, bros, nonbinary hoes, and genderfluid fucks, I present to you the Big Dick in Charge

I may reference works that I've read and when I do I'll drop their @ and link to their story it is law that you read it if you read mine, I don't make the rules

CW: none, slightly angsty but nothing too intense!

Alright, doves, this is post-season one. Lucifer now resides in the hotel with everyone and is slowly adjusting to being graced with Alejandro's Alastor's presence every day.

Let's be honest, our baby pays attention but puts in minimal effort. Saying that the days went by in a blur would be an understatement. Even conversations would be forgotten after a few short moments. On to the next task. Full focus on this thing. Once that's done? Well onto the next task! No tasks? Free time to spend with Charlie!

Things would start slow, and to really interact, you'd most likely start to approach him first. Maybe you've spent long enough watching the blond anxiously bounce around the hotel and graciously give himself a bit too much for even the Big Boss of Hell.

A timid approach from you, offering to help with whatever he's currently doing. Maybe you make snacks for everyone in the hotel and hand him his personally :)

And so it begins! A greeting here, a greeting there, slightly awkward conversations that slowly start to feel less forced with the little information you learn about each other along the way.

It's...nice! Refreshing! Lucifer would be more excited than anything and talking to you would become a part of his regular routine without much thought on the matter. You'd occasionally be on his mind just a little more, and he'd start to seek you out himself too.

I know you're already seeking him out. Bitch I'M seeking him out.

Helping with chores around the hotel quickly turns into simply enjoying the other's company.

One day you gift him his very own ceramic duck! You could have paid for it from somewhere or made it yourself.

Either way, he'd fucking LOVE it! Honestly, if you decide to try your hand at making it, he'd love it even more with all the rough edges and little bumps (it was made out of love for my babies who never touched clay in their lives)

In response, please expect many gifts in return. I like to think it's been a while since he's gotten a genuine gift like this

(Bonus headcanon: Charlie will see this and will come to you the next day with a list of things she wants to gift him and you two are unofficially officially the Buy Lucifer Anything Duck-Themed duo)

Lucifer loves how you react when he gifts you your very own rubber duck. Your smile and happiness always seemed contagious to him. It only led to him making/getting you more things.

You will have a rubber duck collection by the end of this, but what can you really say? Each one of them is based on something you mentioned before. A movie character, a book character, a cartoon character, even friends or family members if they were mentioned. The gesture is way too sweet for you to turn down, even if it is the 30th duck you've received.

Now prepare for what I like to call the "get along t-shirt" phase but both parties are willing LMAO.

Lucifer will be by your side as long as you'll accept the company and if you're reading this and we brain the same, that will be all the time.

I love the GenZ!Reader memes and fics. Someone show this man bacon pancakes and if it was already done, SHOW ME.

Between his relationship with Charlie and with you, Lucifer actually feels the need and wants to be a little more present bit by bit. He notices that he is spending less time in his head, but he continues on in fear of fucking it up if he thinks too hard about it.

So instead he'll 100% focus on the little familiarity of happiness, as small as those moments may be sometimes. This is EXACTLY why the thought of him potentially feeling romantic interest again goes right over his head.

Who notices first, you ask? Charlie, of course. You slowly but surely became one of his main topics in conversation, it wasn't hard for her to pick up on it and ask.

Baby boy would straight up deny it at first. Him?? Liking someone else??? LMAO, am I right? Of course, after he does this, he'll have the time to actually pay attention to his actions.

So then he'll notice how excited he is every morning knowing that you'll be the first face he sees. He'll notice how he managed to fit you into any task he had to do. When he'd get lunch for himself and Charlie he'd have the automatic thought of making something for you as well. Even when the day was over, he'd be thinking about spending the next day with you. To be frank, you were constantly on his mind. 

Once he notices it's a big mental "fuck". Nothing about you is wrong of course, it's him, or so he thinks.

Let's start with the elephant in the room, or shall I say the ring on his finger lmao

In Lucifer's mind, he's still married technically. Even thinking about it in a technical term was a new development and it made him feel absolutely horrible. Lilith left, sure, but who knows what happened? Regardless of how he felt, he didn't want to hurt her.

But at the same time what about him? Lucifer hasn't been happy in a long time and he's finally building that again, not just with Charlie, but with you as well. He didn't want to just cut you out, he didn't want to hurt you either.

Plus, did you even like him? How would he even approach you? If he wanted to, even after thinking about everything.

Who was he kidding, of course, he still wanted you!

@liveontelevision *drops to my knees and bows* they worded it extremely well here and if you're reading this but you haven't read this already or you clicked the link then clicked back here, go back and read it. I don't care how long it is. Do the thing then come back.

Welcome back. It was good, wasn't it? I know.

The only awkward period for you two is the week-long contemplation of everything (half him attempting not to do what he always does when stressed but by the time he realizes he already made like 30 ducks--)

He would clearly go out of his way to either try and talk to you or avoid you. Or a cute mixture of both where he makes a scene approaching you, realizes he's not ready yet, then makes a scene so he can disappear *finger guns*

A little crisis here, a few little rubber ducks there, and a looooonnnggg conversation with Charlie and Maggie Vaggie.

Those are the ingredients to a semi-stable Lucifer with enough bravado to talk to you normally again.

He'd apologize for the times he basically pulled a Houdini in your face and he'd explain himself fully, all while also confessing his love for you.

It's choppy, it's fast-paced in some areas, and the poor blond was ready to disappear at any given moment, but that's what made it so real for you.

The weight that's lifted off of him couldn't be described, and neither could the joy that welled in him the moment he saw your beautiful smile and heard nothing but your acceptance and love.

What an emotional roller-coaster, am I right?

Lucifer Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @heart-of-the-morningstar

Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Lucifer or Hazbin Hotel content, please let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all!

[obsessivevoidkitten]

A Lovesick Leviathan

Male Leviathan x Gender Neutral Slime Reader (CW: Painless noncon, inhuman reader, size difference, kidnapping, magical branding, temporarily frozen reader, general yandere behavior, minor character death, extreme violence towards minor character) Word count: 3.3k (Piece developed with a lot of input and help from @maxog3n, they also did the amazing art posted with this piece. I am sorry this took so long, but really hope you all enjoy it.)

Screams of pain, some ominous cracking sounds, and then silence.

Auggie let out a defeated sigh as he peeled the body of the human he had just fucked to death off of his cock, their pulverized insides mixed with his blue cum and leaking out everywhere.

Like the others that had died to his amorous pursuits, he hadn’t meant to kill them. In fact, he had loved each one of them and wanted them to be his mate. He carefully determined a suitable candidate, brought them home against their will, and eventually couldn’t contain his lust anymore and fucked them.

The problem was that he was not human. He was a leviathan and his massive member was simply too huge, both long and thick, and his thrusts were powerful. None survived even a single round with him.

He shed a tear as he buried his latest victim.

Then he wiped it away and immediately regained his usual jovial composure. That’s okay, they just weren’t “the one”. He had to expect these kinda snags every now and then if he was going to put himself out on the market.

It was just how dating worked.

Auggie decided that he needed to clear his mind and leave his shack for a while. Get some fresh air. Maybe he would add to his collection of items. Much like a mermaid, leviathans like him hoarded trinkets and baubles.

He made the decision to hit up the old abandoned building a few miles up the coast from his seaside abode. He did not know what the building had once been for, but he was very adventurous and was always looking for new stuff to add to his collection of treasures or materials to extend his shack with.

The leviathan definitely didn’t feel like going into town. Sure, the humans all fled and he could take whatever he wanted, but he did not want to deal with the panicked screams. Plus, he had already done that a dozen times, he wanted to explore somewhere new. And besides, the town was a lot farther than the abandoned facility and he didn’t feel like being out too late. Not with the long he had.

Auggie left the confines of his ramshackle house, and waded into the water, the blood from his previous “mate” leaving a faint trail of blood behind him as he swam up the coast towards his destination.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You were thrilled, your home was finally starting to feel cozy. Or whatever passed as cozy for a saltwater slime.

Spending all your life in the water just did not appeal to you, the surface was just so fascinating. You had spent a little time among some open-minded humans, but you longed to be closer to the sea.

So when you found a brine filled desalination plant completely abandoned for you to do with as you pleased you knew you had found a home from which you could explore the surrounding land and retreat to should the need arise.

It had taken a while, a little over a month, for you to tidy the place up and get things how you liked it. You had decorated the place with seashells, dead corals, and current smoothed glass to make everything feel more natural. You had even covered the first floor with a thick layer of sand!

Everything was perfect.

Just when you were admiring the work you had finally completed when you heard the stomping of a large animal of some type approaching.

You peered out the window and gasped.

A huge… thing… approached.

You had no idea what he could be. You only assumed it was a he because of the giant uncut cock flopping from below the most tiny and useless loincloth imaginable.

The lumbering behemoth had a chubby build, striking blue skin, scales from his ankles to his knees and from his wrists to his elbows, he had fins where a human’s ears would be, sharp teeth, and his dark medium length hair wasn’t hair at all, but instead a writing mass of tentacles.

He came closer and closer to the desalination facility, your home, it was clear it was his intent to enter and not just pass by like you had hoped.

The best option was to hide yourself. Luckily you were crystal clear, like gooey water, and could camouflage yourself easily.

There were many steel barrels along the wall to catch water from a sometimes leaky roof, you decided to hop in, even if he peeped in all you would just blend right in with the water that was in it.

Seconds after you got in you heard the door creak open.

Auggie took a few steps in and looked around the place, getting a handle of his surroundings.

The place had sand everywhere. And dried corals, shells, and smooth glass everywhere. Odd. It clearly wasn’t as abandoned as it had appeared to be from outside.

Maybe there was a potential mate here! If he wanted to find his soul mate he knew he had to be open minded about finding his partner wherever they may happen to meet.

And whoever called this place home had an aesthetic he enjoyed. They lived in a run down building not entirely unlike his shack, they were opportunistic like he was and they decorated the place to be like the ocean from which he originated.

He was sure he would get along well with whoever lived here.

You could not see him from your current position in the barrel, but you could hear him walking around and sniffing as if hunting for something.

Auggie explored every nook and cranny, using his sensitive nose to guide him, but even though it was clear as day that someone was using this as a home he could detect no scent other than that of saltwater.

Shrugging his shoulders, he decided to return to his original mission, seeking out trinkets for his treasure hoard and possibly materials to build with.

He found some rope and used it to tie some sheets of metal to his back, but other than that he hadn’t found much for his home. Carrying these he wouldn’t be able to swim back, he’d have to walk back at a leisurely pace.

Auggie started to head towards the doors to leave, as he did you heard the sound of his footsteps retreating and were so relieved.

But it was premature, he was disappointed in his haul so he took one last glance around the room just in case he missed something. He spied some pristine barrels in the corner. He could always use a nice new barrel!

The giant invader found one that was full of water, likely from that storm last night, it was pretty hot and since he had to walk back a refreshing splash of water would be nice and cooling should he need it on the return trip home.

You panicked as you and the water around you sloshed as he picked up the container that was currently serving as your hiding place. But your only option was to remain hidden for as long as you possibly could and make a break for it when you could.

Despite not having a traditional stomach you still felt very nauseous at being jostled with every step your unwitting kidnapper made. With how you were disoriented, you could not even give an accurate estimate of how long you had been in your current predicament, what was probably just thirty or forty minutes felt like unending hours.

Finally the moving about came to a stop, maybe he was home, maybe he would leave the container outside to use for water collection, you dared to hope. But these hopes were short lived as the behemoth lifted the container up and poured it over himself to cool off, causing you to tumble out in your default humanoid shape and reflexively grab on to whatever you could to prevent falling.

Whatever you could grab was the man who invaded your home, your gel-like arms around his broad shoulders.

You stared at each other for a moment until Auggie got a slight blush that was quickly replaced by a huge grin, revealing two rows of razor sharp teeth.

A brand new romantic interest just fell right into his lap! Well, you weren’t on his lap yet, but there would be time for that soon enough.

When you had recovered from the shock of being dumped directly on to this strange blue man you pushed yourself off of him and fell to the ground with a wet plop.

You started running.

“Hey wait! That’s really rude! I haven’t decided if I’m your boyfriend yet!!!”

What the hell was wrong with this guy? You heard him utter some strange mystic sounding words before hearing an odd whoosh and suddenly you felt indescribably heavy. Your vision frosted over and you fell over. Hard.

Everything was so cold, you couldn’t move at all! You had been completely frozen, evidently this crazy man had ice magic. Just your luck.

“Don’t worry, I am pretty sure I will be your boyfriend! I liked all the décor in your former home. We have so much more in common than the people I normally date!”

He walked up to you slowly, picked you up carefully, and then placed you back in the barrel he had been unwittingly hauling you in.

This manner of being handled was… humiliating to say the least.

Once again you were jostled around in the barrel, now without water and with more pain in your newly acquired solidified form. It was so restrictive. You were used to being more free moving than what a solid being was capable of and now here you were completely paralyzed.

Once again, the trip felt like it was taking an eternity. Except now it was worse, as every second was punctuated by the deep seated fear of what may become of you when the journey ended.

You also were forced to contend with the large man’s non-stop talking.

“I’m Auggie! I am so glad we met. I think it was probably fate. Like we were meant to find each other! I haven't met many slimes before. Only a couple times when swimming and I couldn’t see them well enough in the water to bring them back to date…”

You tuned Auggie out after a while. He just wouldn’t stop talking about how happy he was and how he had been in need of a new partner.

Finally you thawed out enough to talk, though you were still too stiff to move quickly.

“What is wrong with you!? We are NOT dating!!”

“Oh~ You have such a lovely voice! I am so happy to hear it. We are definitely dating now so I can hear you talk everyday~”

He hummed happily as he continued about his merry way, leaving your objection completely unacknowledged.

“Excuse me!? I just said we are NOT dating!!”

Though the words he spoke were… demented… he said them in the same happy go lucky jovial tone with which he had been speaking, “Don’t be silly, of course we are. I already was sure I would like you based on your home and with us both being sea critters, but after hearing your voice I simply can’t be without you~ I am so sorry if I implied you have a choice!”

After letting out a defeated whimper you went silent.

Auggie continued babbling about all the stuff the two of you would do together. As your destination approached he started running, he was just so eager to get you nice and settled in your brand new home.

You grunted in annoyance as you were bounced about in your glorified bucket.

“Oh. Heh heh. Sorry, I just got carried away.”

He slowed down to a brisk walk the rest of the way.

“We’re here!” He shouted in a chipper manner. For a totally psychotic kidnapper hellbent on forcing you to be in a relationship he sure was cheerful.

The barrel was placed down with a thud before he pulled you out. You were thawed to the point of being like a slurry and his warm hands felt rather nice.

Though you’d still rather be anywhere else.

You saw his home and were shocked, how could anyone live in something like this? It was a towering mass of junk. Large slabs of metal and wood cobbled together. It was actually kinda impressive how structurally sound it appeared to be despite the building materials used in its construction.

Auggie slung your chilled form over his shoulders without warning, eliciting a startled sound from you.

He opened the doors and set you down on a rugged chair that was clearly meant for beings around your size. Humans.

How many people had been forced to accept Auggie as their “boyfriend”. Were you going to die here?

You took stock of your surroundings, if you were ever going to escape you would need to know potential weapons, escape routes, and hiding places.

But honestly you didn’t even know where to start, the building was huge as it was meant for such a large being like Auggie. And it seemed like he had the same inclinations as mermen when it came to collecting objects of interest. Though instead of valuables like coins, gems, and shells Auggie seemed to be interested in… a different sort of collection.

Mounted on the wall as if some sort of poster was a set of doors that read “Tony’s Bar and Bistro”. Standing in the corner was a surfboard that looked as if a bite had been taken out of it with a lifebuoy around it. Other items strewn about the place included a slot machine, street signs, and a child’s tricycle.

There were random items in all sorts of places.

The ceiling was no exception. Hanging upside down from the ceiling, above even Auggie’s head, were several random and out of place items. Though the strangest of all was a… parking meter? You couldn’t be sure, you had only stealthily visited a human city a couple times.

None of this stuff helped you though, and it seemed the only way out was through the large front door.

Without any warning Auggie crouched down in front of you and stared intensely with a smug grin.

“I bet right now you are thinking of ways to leave aren’t cha? Without even giving our love a chance! Don’t worry I will take the burden of worrying about freedom away!”

He held his webbed pointer finger to your chest and muttered a complex incantation. You didn’t notice it before but he had a tattoo in the shape of a trident on his thigh, it glowed with a blue light as he uttered his spell and suddenly you had a matching tattoo marked on your chest.

It didn’t harm you at all, but his wicked grin coupled with the mark’s magical origins worried you.

“Wh-what’s that…?”

“Do you like it? It’s my brand! It means you’re alllll mine~”

You gave a face of disgust.

“It’s okay if you don’t believe it yet, some people are just slower learners. That’s okay.”

Your only reply was to glare at him silently.

“You’re never leaving me.”

You chose to just keep shooting him an angry look. It didn’t matter what he thought, you would slip away at the first opportunity. You were a slime, slippery and versatile, there were very few ways you could be contained long term. And he couldn’t just keep re-freezing you every single time you bolted.

“Haha, what? Don’t believe me dummy? Okay then… go ahead…”

With a smirk he got up and went to the door, holding it wide open for you.

“Go on, leave.”

He gestured you out the door and you didn’t hesitate, maybe he thought he could freeze you, or close the door, or push you back somehow, but were prepared for anything. You were positive that the smug expression was wiped from his face as you took on a taller and slimmer shape and zipped on by before he could react.

You got maybe all of 15ft. away from the shack before you were yanked back by some invisible force and landed on the ground.

“What th-”

You heard the heavy footsteps of your captor approach from behind.

“Have you caught on yet cutie? I told you, you’re allll mine~ My little mark on you ties you to me, you will never be able to go very far.”

For the first time that day you truly felt despair. The thought you could get away was the sole barrier that had prevented you from giving in to the filling of hopelessness that now threatened to consume you, but that was gone now. You were left with nothing but soul crushing helplessness… that and Auggie.

He scooped you up and carried you back to his house laying you in his large and rather decadent bed, a stark contrast to the ramshackle state of the rest of his home.

Auggie stood by the bed and positioned your legs to hang off of it, you guessed at what he was planning but were too caught up in your sense of doom and despair to react properly or mount even the slightest resistance.

“Awww, don’t be sad darlin’, this’ll be fun!” He chuckled with his normal sense of joy and lack of care for what anyone else wanted.

The leviathan stroked his cock to its staggering full length and lined it up between your legs.

You did not have an entrance there. Slimes simply absorbed plankton or other nutrient sources through their membranes and deposited what was indigestible in the same manner, and there was no conventional reproductive system. Slimes of your type would meet, partially join limbs, and create an egg.

But that sure didn’t stop Auggie from penetrating you anyway.

Luckily your slime body was extremely durable and felt little pain from such actions. He slammed into you right through your membrane, gripping your sides as he pulled you down to the base. His blue precum leaked into your body, leaving blue streaks where it dissolved.

He moved you back and forth like a fleshlight, like you were just some toy for his pleasure, not a living being with your own agency.

You were entirely limp in his hands, just a nice gooey warmth around his cock, feeling neither pleasure or pain from his ever increasing thrusts.

No, as you stared up at him, being moved back and forth on his cock, the only thing you felt was an uncomfortable pressure. And an overwhelming sense of violation.

Finally he pushed in as far as he could, his dick drilling all the way into your head as he unleashed his glowing blue cum into you. He let out a relaxed sigh as his cock lay inside you throbbing, still drooling more and more seed into you from his huge nuts.

Auggie finally pulled out of you, his semen had made your entire body swell considerably and it turned you from clear and transparent to a bright and faintly glowing blue as your body absorbed it like food.

“Oooh, you took my cock so well and became even prettier! It definitely means you’re meant for me! And it looks like my cum is good food for my gooey little darling too~ Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to feed you plenty EVERY. DAY.”

Your existence as a slime, what once granted you versatility and mobility. What you considered a blessed existence better than being a restrained solid, was now the cause of your loss of any freedom.

Because now that Auggie was in love with a mate that his cock couldn’t kill he was never going to let you go.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 In Exile.

Post prison Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: When your romantic relationship with your co-worker is discovered by your superiors, everything falls apart. You both have to decide which one of you will leave the team.

Words: 2,4k.

TW: so much angst without happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I wanted to thank you for the 500 followers🩷 It really makes me happy because when I first started writing here, I was just experimenting.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You always knew this would eventually come to light.

It was only a matter of time before the way your eyes and Spencer's eyes released hearts when you saw each other was noticed by the profilers and agents who saw you on a daily basis. With the two of you working so closely together and obviously bonding even in the few hours you spent together outside of work, rumors and theories about what kind of relationship you had would sooner or later spread around the place. And you both knew that would happen from the first time your lips touched, and any professional barriers you maintained were instantly broken.

You had tried so hard to ignore the fact that you found him attractive since the first time you set foot in the FBI offices, almost two years ago now, when you introduced yourself to the team and he was the only one who gave you a small smile instead of an awkward handshake. You don't know exactly when that simple thought in the back of your mind started to mutate into an attraction that made your hair stand on end every time you were paired with him on a case because he had more experience and you complemented each other well. One day you just woke up feeling weird every time you thought about how bright his eyes were, and then some time later, on one of the cold nights you spent trying to solve cases as Luke's partner during the months Spencer was in prison, you began to miss him intensely, even saying his name so many times by accident. You felt so silly all the way home, imagining that he was there, just a few seats away, and that he would get up at any moment to talk to you...so silly.

For him it was different, he knew something was special about you from the first time you were put to work with him, when you didn't ask a single question about how the place worked because you knew the rules and protocols by heart long before. There was something about your need to go after perfection now that you had the job of your dreams that made him move and start feeling an automatic need to protect you and prevent at all costs the things he had seen a job like yours do from happening to you as well. However, that didn't justify the times he stared at you for more than five seconds while you were distracted for no apparent reason, or the times he said out loud to his colleagues that he saw nothing but good intentions in you. His feelings were only obvious to himself when an unsub wounded you in the middle of the investigation, when Spencer had gone back to the car to get some images for the interrogation and left you alone, only to return to find you wounded on the floor with little pulse. He hadn't felt this scared about losing someone in years, he thought his brain had been wired to expect any loss after so many. But you were so different.

Everything was different between the two of you. So perfect, so special and real that you delusionally believed that a relationship you always knew was forbidden could work out well.

But the consequences of your actions had suddenly hit you like a surprise attack, knocking you to the ground and beating you relentlessly. It hadn't even occurred to you that on any given Tuesday, as you were clearing the table to go to your apartment after successfully closing a new case, Emily would summon you urgently to her office with a guilty look on her face. The last thing you expected was that Reid would be there too, waiting for you to find out. And of course, everything that happened next was a thousand times more unexpected.

Apparently, your relationship was already known to everyone, including your superiors. And because of this, one of you would have to leave the team. Be transferred elsewhere or resign because it was felt that a couple could not work effectively together. And you only had a week to think about it and make a decision.

From the day the news broke and you left your boss's office, there was a noticeable lack of conversation between the two of you. And the fact that you were together on every single investigation made it worse, especially when it was your turn to be alone with him.

At present, neither of you felt comfortable talking as you walked to your car after talking to the families of the victims of the case you were investigating. Even though the street was completely empty, you both kept the respectful distance you should have kept before this disaster. The same distance that had become automatic over the past few days.

“We can't ignore this conversation forever, can we?” Your voice echoed in the place as you paused before opening your car door and turned to face him, attempting to discern the thoughts that were likely racing through his mind.

“I'm afraid we can't.” Spencer replied, his expression neutral. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair before getting in the car and waiting for you two to talk inside.

You followed him to the car and, in your haste, closed the door behind you with a bit more force than you intended. After the loud sound, a silence fell over the car, and you both sat quietly for a few moments.

“It's been days now. I think we need to talk about what's going on.” You finally spoke, looking straight ahead, trying not to look at him.

Spencer leaned back in the car seat and sighed deeply, his fingers drumming nervously on his thighs. He knew you were right, but he feared much more than he let on about the conversation and especially the consequences of the things that would be said. Something in him wanted to prolong his uncertainty as long as possible, to avoid facing an unwanted future.

“I know.” He said after a few seconds in a quiet voice. “But...What do we say to each other? It's a lose-lose situation no matter what we do.” He added in a dejected tone.

A strong pain seized your chest as you heard his words. He was right; no matter what happened, the two of you would lose something. And there was no way around it.

You finally turned to look at him, your expression a mixture of sadness and determination before you spoke. “I know, I know.” You admitted. “But we have to decide what we want to lose.”

Low blow, so low.

“But what if...what if we don't want to lose anything?” He asked softly, his eyes searching yours for some hope that wasn't there.

It felt like a crossroads, like you couldn't hide or escape anymore. You both loved your work and loved each other, but you couldn't have both. They were clearly incompatible at the moment.

You took a moment to collect yourself before responding. “I don't know.” You admitted. “We can't have it both ways. Either us, or our work.”

“And what do you want to lose?” He asked slowly, closing his eyes for a moment before he heard your answer, bracing himself for the impact.

You took a deep breath, thinking carefully about his question before answering. You were head over heels for Spencer. You'd never imagined you could be so in love with anyone. You couldn't imagine your life without him now that you'd already spent so much time together. He really was everything you always thought was extinct, every high expectation that used to make you believe you would die without a love that didn't cause you grief. But the BAU...It had been your dream job for as long as you could remember. You had worked so hard to get the position you currently held, investing years of your life and sacrificing countless hours to be the best at everything and making it possible without anyone's help.

“It's not that I want to lose something, I raised the situation wrong.” You tried to explain, but stumbled over your own words and ended up staying silent for a few seconds under his expectant gaze.

Spencer listened intently to your words, his heart heavy and his mind full of conflicting thoughts that tore him apart inside. He desperately wanted to be selfish, to stay with you and the team, to carry on as you were without worrying about anything. But he knew that was impossible without serious consequences for both of you.

“What are you trying to say?” He asked, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“I mean, I don't want to lose anything, but I feel like I have to. I think we both feel the same way.” You had a hard time expressing yourself and forming the sentences you wanted to say in your mind. “And it's inevitable to ask what our priorities are.”

“And…what are your priorities?” He asked you quietly, dreading your answer but guessing what it was going to be.

You shuddered at Spencer's question. The moment of truth had arrived and you would have to lay everything out on the table, including the cards you didn't like so much. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting nervously with your fingers for a few moments before lifting your eyes to meet his.

“This job, you know how much I wanted it. And my career-”

As you spoke, his expression didn't change at all. I had a feeling this was going to happen. He knew you loved your job, that it was your passion, and that you had fought years for it. He tried not to feel hurt by it, but he couldn't help but feel a slight pang in his chest when he heard you say that his name wasn't first on your list.

“I understand.” He said gently, placing his hand close to yours to show he wasn't angry or anything like that. “I know how important this job is to you, and I respect that. You have every right to prioritize your career. I just want you to be happy.”

The atmosphere in the car was somewhat tense and uncomfortable. The only sound that could be heard was the slow, controlled breathing of the two of you. Spencer's heart felt heavy in his chest, as though it might burst out at any moment. He couldn't help but wonder if he had perhaps allowed his vulnerability to cloud his judgment, if he had fallen in love too quickly, or if he had been too hasty in trusting that love could finally work for him. He chided himself for allowing himself to fall so deeply in love with you, knowing that the odds of it working out were not particularly high. Given his unfortunate streak of bad luck and the seemingly unbreakable curse that seemed to be upon him, driving away every person he loved.

“But what about you? What do you want?” You asked, your voice a gentle whisper.

Spencer's heart beat a little faster as he considered your question. What did he want? Well...he wanted to stay with you and the team, and he wanted to be able to love you publicly, hold your hand, and go out with you without having to worry if anyone saw you two. He wanted more than stolen kisses, secret rendezvous, and late-night text messages. But he also knew it was a dream that was perhaps a little selfish and unrealistic for many reasons.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to push down the wave of emotions that threatened to overcome him. As he spoke, his voice was shaky. “I...I want to be with you, more than anything. But I also know how hard you've worked to get to where you are. And I don't want to take that away from you.” He said with an aching heart. “And I also like my job, I've had it for years...that's all I've ever had.”

“So what does that mean?” You couldn't help but frown, feeling a little defensive all of a sudden, though you didn't mean to take it out on him. “That they should transfer me because you've been at BAU longer? I'm pretty sure that's what they'll do.”

Needless to say, that was bound to happen. After all, Reid was a genius, while you were just a disposable agent who had taken a foolish chance for love.

Spencer couldn't help but take notice of the defensive tone in your voice, feeling a pang of hurt, but he pushed those feelings aside and tried to keep his cool. He took a deep breath before responding.

“No, that's not what I meant-” He was quick to rebut, but you cut him off before he can continue.

“But that's what's going to happen, isn't it?”

“Is that really the only thing that matters to you?” He asked quietly, his expression tinged with sadness.

“Of course not.” You replied, frustration creeping into your voice. “You know that's not true. But I can't just ignore my career. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I've made sacrifices-”

He interrupted you, his voice low and earnest. “And so have I.” He said, his eyes fixed on you. “I’ve also made sacrifices, for us. I’ve kept this relationship a secret, I've lied for you. I’ve put myself in danger for you. And I’d do it all again in a heartbeat, because I love you.”

Your heart raced as you listened to his impassioned words. You knew he loved you, but hearing him say it aloud, despite everything that was happening, still had the power to knock the wind out of you. You felt guilty immediately for your outburst, knowing that it wasn’t directed at him, but at the situation you found yourself in, at the unfair choices you were forced to make.

“You know I love you too.” You said, your voice quieter now, full of pain and unspoken words. “But we can't expect Emily to cover for us or try to do anything else for us, and we can't keep sneaking around like thieves.”

“What should we do then? If none of us are able to leave the team?” He asked with no real intention of hearing the answer.

After a brief pause, during which you appeared to be searching for the most appropriate way to phrase your response, you finally spoke. “Maybe we should leave something else.”

“Us?”

“Us.”

What a scary way to end.

[strlingsav]

Hiiii Sav 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Could I request a Ghost x reader trope that's like... love based off forced proximity/ circumstances? Can be in their line of duty, fake marriage, but please get creative🫶🏼 and smut ofc!! Thank you for reading 😸

Hellooo! 🫶🏻

You most definitely can, enjoy!

Closer

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— A months-long assignment has landed you in isolation with Ghost.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Your usual assignments were done alone. A few weeks, hunkered down in an abandoned site, surviving on MREs, cigarettes, and any alcohol you could find. They were the closest to a vacation you'd ever have, save for the uniform, guns and ammunition.

More often than not, you saved yourself from the warfare and stuck to surveillance. It was your specialty, a skill you'd turned into a career and notably so. John Price himself had requested you for the specially important recon mission, hearing talk from your past contracts about your detailed work.

In the past, you'd not opened yourself up to be recruited to a task force in hopes that you could keep some semblance of a normal life. Once you submerged yourself in your work, that went out the window. So you agreed, flew out to the location, and were dropped on a farm bordering a nearby city, of which Captain Price wanted more information. The rest was classified.

Not long after your arrival, you'd watched an armoured truck pull up the long gravel driveway. The soldier that jumped out, Ghost- as you'd learned to call him, was also assigned to your post. At first, you'd been irritated with Price for neglecting this detail, but once you'd learned that he was quiet and kept to himself, you didn't mind.

And he kept true to that fist impression. The introduction was short, hardly sweet, lacking emotion in his eyes and any effort in his voice. He towered above you, his body like that of a goddamn bear, and it made you nervous to share a house with him.

To say you didn't sleep with your pistol loaded would've been a lie- especially the first few nights alone with him. Of course, he insisted he'd keep to the first floor of the farmhouse, but you didn't trust the worn locks to keep a man his size out.

He took the night watch, often reminding you he had never been able to sleep, and was usually still awake during the day. Occasionally, he'd sneak off and rest for a few minutes, where you'd find him with his legs up on the aged sofa, hand across his face, soft snores on every exhale. It nearly made you smile the first time you saw it.

Your days were filled with quiet. Hours spent with your eyes peering through a pair of binoculars, jotting quick notes in the margins of already-full pages. Dates, times, movement, people, places. All of it, recorded, while Ghost played defence on the balcony, and lent an extra set of eyes.

You grew to enjoy the quiet. The deliberate looks while you passed each other, the knowing glances when you'd settle by the fireplace and eat your ready-made meals together. It was a silent routine that you'd perfected within the last few months. You eventually found yourself leaving the doors unlocked, putting away your pistol while you slept.

You began to nearly read each others' minds. Smooth, seamless interactions that made everyday pass with ease. Ghost was beginning to grow on you- the calming presence he offered, the endearing, mindless conversations that took place behind a bottle of bourbon. He even had a sense of humour- fucked as it was.

He was always willing to talk, to endure your mindless chatting every once-in-a-while. You'd not had an assignment with anyone else in a long time, and though your social skills were somewhat lacking, you could see Ghost becoming more comfortable. He enjoyed himself, actually.

"Price never told me, is this your first surveillance assignment?" You asked, setting the bourbon down on the table between you.

He shook his head, the skull staring back at you becoming a bit blurry under the influence. "Been other places before. Mostly infiltration, extraction, target searches, but not my first."

You sat back in your seat, your pyjama bottoms a laughable contrast to Ghost, who still sat in his uniform. You didn't think you'd seen him change, or whether he even owned civilian clothing.

You weren't usually so lax- didn't usually let your guard down after only a few months, but Ghost seemed to lure you in. You hoped it wouldn't prove to be a mistake.

"I do this a lot. Mostly alone," You replied, watching him intently as he lifted the bottle to his lips, and took a swig.

"Guess my bein' here throws you off, then." He swallowed.

"Not at all," You shook your head, your eyes watching him closely. "It's been surprisingly pleasant. I'm not as lonely as I usually am."

His gaze softened, acknowledging your compliment with a short nod. In truth, he'd grown fond of you too. Your little quirks, your sense of humour, even the way in which you organized yourself and your things day-to-day. Your appearance was just a perk. You hadn't caught him watching you, yet- he was sure you'd go back to locking your door if you had.

His watching wasn't entirely innocent, either. He'd catch glimpses of your thighs, your stomach; even your neck drove him mad. Shamefully, he'd finished to fabricated images of kneeling between those pyjama-clad thighs, watching your face contort with pleasure. Your gentle eyes and painfully inviting lips were always teasing him.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so close to a woman, lived with a woman. Regardless of whether it was an assignment, he began to feel comfortable in the abandoned house- like it was home. And as long as you were around, he found himself entirely distracted by you- whether it be your conversation or your face. So, your allusion to finding his company pleasant made his stomach flip.

"Still lonely though?" He inquired, his thighs spreading as he made himself comfortable on the rickety chair.

"You know how it is, I'm sure," You shrugged.

He did know. Fuck, did he ever know. But he wanted to hear you say it- hear you admit how lonely you are, how badly you missed being touched, kissed, fucked. It would make his intentions much less complicated.

"Not sure I do," He shook his head.

Your lips split into a grin- he was baiting you. You decided to give in, to see where it could lead.

"There are certain parts of you that'll always be lonely. Especially in our line of work." Your eyebrows raised.

His eyes pored into yours, watching you from beneath the yellowed kitchen light. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the wooden table, before he took another shot of bourbon. You rubbed your lips together- were you making more of his charcoal eyes staring you down, or was he imagining relieving some of the loneliness you so boldly talked about?

Your confidence had ultimately been increased with your drinking, and especially as his body language welcomed you in. Open arms, thighs spread, chest out.

"Doesn't always have to be that way," He said in return- optimism; unexpected but appreciated. His hips shifted again, sitting up straight as he subconsciously leaned in closer to you. "'M sure you've got options." Right there in front of you.

Was it an offer, or simply polite reassurance?

"Not as many as you'd think. And none as tempting as the one I shouldn't even be considering." You said, your eyes slowly lifting to his.

"What's stoppin' you?" His heart pounded in his chest as he awaited your response.

"Rules," You smiled softly.

You wondered if he had any idea you were referring to himself- surely he wasn't that oblivious. He had moved himself closer to you, watched your lips and tongue as you spoke- he was intrigued.

"Fuck the rules," He shrugged.

A deep breath in allowed you the momentary rush to stand to your feet and step toward him. You were close enough to cautiously lower yourself onto his lap, moving slowly until you were sure he was interested. His large hands flew to your waist as you planted yourself firmly. His expression- the little of which you could see, at least- remained unchanged. He wasn't oblivious.

His hands slid down your sides, gently caressing your hips before rounding your body and landing on your ass. He sighed quietly, almost unnoticeably- but his chest expanded and his grip tightened. A rough squeeze of your ass made you smile.

"Fuck the rules, then," You sighed, watching him grin.

He lifted a hand to your neck, long fingers tangling themselves in your hair, pulling your face closer to his so he could press his lips to yours. His mouth was warm and pleasant- just enough moisture on his lips to be soft to the touch. Your hands wrapped themselves around his shoulders, slowly inching closer as your kiss began to deepen.

His tongue slid against yours, forcing his way between your teeth and finding the soft, welcoming muscle of your tongue. He groaned, air exhaled from his nose fanning your cheeks. You returned the exhale, desperately sucking in air as his paw-like hands grabbed at your ass.

You couldn't help but grind forward, flinching subtly when his hands would palm your ass, or he'd so easily mould you against his body. His fingers were splayed out across your skin, calloused palms scratching the exposed flesh of your backside and thighs; his breaths became quicker with every slide of your hips over his groin.

You took note of what he seemed to enjoy- he was a bit rough, handled you with hint of carelessness and desperation, but you didn't mind. He was caught up in how your breasts felt against his chest, and how the curves of your body were so easy to glide his hands over.

Your fingers lifted the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, exposing your breasts. Ghost hardly blinked, his gaze falling to the supple flesh of your chest, nipples hardening with the impact of cool air.

"Christ," He mumbled to himself, especially hoarse and deep.

"Can I?" You asked softly, your hands reaching his shirt.

With a short nod, you lifted it over his head, revealing the physique of a hardened soldier- muscular, lean, bulky. Scars and burns acquired during his deployments flexed and rippled with his movements, his biceps popping up as he reached your hips with even greedier hands.

You'd stood to slide your shorts down your thighs, watching him lean forward to watch closely, to see every bit of you as best as possible. His eyes tracked from your breasts to your hips, eyeing the panties you wore, a single finger reaching out to hook beneath the fabric and tug it down.

In one fell swoop, his fingers slipped your panties off your hips. Before you could straddle him again, he stood to his feet, a hand wrapping around your waist and slowly turning you to his chest.

Goosebumps arose from your skin, his breath fanning the back of your neck, large hands holding you to his chest as his fingers crept toward your pussy.

"Been a long time?" He asked quietly, the rumble of his voice moving through his chest to your back. You shivered.

"Yeah," You nodded absently, arching your back, widening your stance when his finger reached between your folds. "A few years," You breathed, your head turning to find his eyes.

He leaned closer, his lips beside your ear as he simultaneously found your clit, applying the smallest amount of pressure to make your knees weaken.

"Stuck to doin' it yourself, yeah?"

Your cheeks flushed with heat, nodding slowly again, against his chest.

"Yes," You gulped.

"It ain't the same, is it?" He asked rhetorically, watching your nostrils flare, your tongue wet your lips as you writhed against him. "Don't get as wet when it's your own fingers?"

You shook your head.

"You're fuckin' wet now, sweetheart," He said, gruff and satisfied. "And I ain't hardly done anythin' yet."

You accepted his deduction, knowing he was right; it had been a long time, and it wasn't the same with your own fingers. Regardless, his warm body pressing against yours, his arms pinning you to him, his hard cock against your ass- he'd already done more than he even knew.

You whimpered quietly, dropping a few inches as he applied more pressure to your clit, working in circles while his lips clung to your neck. You tilted your head, allowing him more access, and wrapped an arm around his neck.

You breathed out, collapsing against his hold, letting him have his way with your pussy. You tried to hold out, to keep yourself composed, but the long, thick fingers rubbing short circles over your clit were going to cut your willpower short. His hand gripped your hip, pulling you against him, encouraging you to grind your ass over his cock.

You did- slow movements as you simultaneously ground your hips against his fingers. His breathing had picked up in your ear, harsh exhales as he held your body in his hands. You felt his breaths fan your neck, goosebumps appearing over your skin.

His consistent pace and gentle pressure made it easy to lose every other thought and focus solely on how his actions felt. Not longer after, he'd slid finger inside you, his breath hitching subtly at the feel of your insides. Warm, silky- enveloping him like a well-cushioned bed.

"Fuck, you feel good," He cursed. "You close?" He asked, feeling your thighs tremble.

You could only nod, focusing on the rough actions of his thumb, rubbing over your clit, and his fingers curling gently inside you. Your lips parted in an effort to suck in a breath, eyes shut, savouring the build-up and moments between where utter pleasure only began to spark. It didn't take much longer, your hands holding into his arms for stability as you came over his hand.

He slowly slid his fingers from you, satisfied with the trembling, weakened mess he'd made you into. His hands gently guided you against the table, pressing your chest against the cold wood.

You exhaled sharply, feeling his palm brush down your neck, then your back, before rounding your ass and leaving a gentle smack against your plush cheek.

You twitched, unsuspecting of Ghost kneeling behind you, parting your pussy to watch the liquid arousal seep out of you. You were still convulsing, when his tongue slid against you, his lips slurping against you.

A deep grumble of appreciation left his lips, vibrating through you. Your voice was hoarse, a moan squeezed out of your lungs that bounced off the table and rang loud in your ears.

"Y'alright?" He asked, accompanied by the sound of a belt buckle and zipper being undone.

You nodded, contorting your body to watch as his jeans dropped past his hips and his cock fell from his briefs. Your eyes widened when you felt him against you- he was bigger than anticipated, and you feared the consequences of being abstinent for so many years.

Surprisingly, as he slid in, your natural lubricant allowed him to enter you with ease. The stretch still stung, a quick sensation that made your body shudder. Your hands reached out before you, gripping the table as he filled you, his hips meeting your ass.

"Sorry, love," He muttered, "So goddamn tight."

"Keep going," You whispered, your body moving to watch him again as he thrusted the first few times.

His hands slid up your back, before settling on the curve of your waist. The leverage allowed him to get a better stance, and he bent down to meet your eye-line while his cock slowly penetrated you.

His other hand moved to grasp the back of your neck, his thumb on your jugular, eyes raking over your body but especially the view of his cock sliding in and out. It didn't last long, not when he reached beneath you to flick his fingers across your clit.

You sucked in a breath, letting out a short cry at the overstimulation.

"Was thinkin' about you, like this," He grunted. "Cunt spread open on my cock, that pretty face when you take it."

He was hoarse too, out of breath as his cock slipped in and out, his fingers still working at massaging your clit.

"Take it whenever you want," You pushed out, taking in a deep breath. "Just don't stop."

"Don't say that," He groaned. "Fuck- don't say that."

"I mean it-" You whispered, your eyes filling with tears, landing your cheek against the table. "'S yours," You whispered again. "All yours."

His hips stuttered, pulling his cock out of you before you felt warm liquid land on your back. You shivered again, feeling empty and exposed as he backed away.

He grabbed the nearest cloth, wiping it swiftly over your backside before you spun around to face him.

He arranged himself, doing his belt back up and adjusting the mask over the bridge of his nose.

"Get up," He said, gesturing for you to sit on the table, one hand around your waist.

"I meant it," Your eyes drifted up and down his body, your hand on his chest preventing him from lifting you. "Now that we have, we may as well take advantage."

Ghost stood quiet for a moment, as if thinking over your deal. He nodded, subtly at first, so subtle you hadn't even noticed, but then he agreed.

"Alright. Now- get on the table, 'n' spread those legs. Been wantin' t'taste you."

[cannellee]

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! shinichiro x omega! reader (smut)

— soft sex with alpha!shinichiro

my masterlist : ☆

(pls enjoy this as this wasn't supposed to be what I should've posted tonight. it just happened that while writing a smut story about baji, I accidentally clicked on a tumblr notification and it removed me from my draft, while of course DELETING the whole thing I spent 2hours writing. I'm absolutely devastated and certainly not gonna pick this story up anytime soon, it'll have to rot away between other neglected drafts until I've forgotten all about this awful event)

alpha! shinichiro will take it slow. dragging his long fingers across your soft skin. they're rough to the touch but his caresses are so gentle it melts your mind into a puddle.

he's engulfing you in his pheromones, that's the only thing you can breathe and shinichiro loves to see you get high off of his scent. it makes his alpha all proud and satisfied.

with all his kisses, shinichiro succeeds in drawing a few moans from you, encouraging him to keep pleasing his omega even more.

he loves it. loves the way you ask for more, loves the way you cry his name and clings to his neck. he wants to carve in his mind the way your face twitches every time he reaches a certain spot, praising you for taking him so well.

shinichiro takes care of all of your needs, letting you indulge yourself into the blissful pleasure he's giving you. he's nibbling at your neck, the exact spot he knows is most sensitive. the thrill of having your alpha lick and suck such a vulnerable spot puts you in a submissive haze. you're all too ready to obey, omega instincts praying you to satisfy your alpha, mind all fuzzy.

it's clear to shinichiro that you've now switch to a more comfortable space and he lets you, still fully pleasing your body the way a good alpha should.

he's touching you with wonder, breath irregular with the way your sweet pheromones are reaching his nose. he's hugging your form with adoration, his hips are moving rapidly, setting a pace he knows will put you to sleep for a few hours after that. his hands are behind your knees and the position allows him to reach deeper inside of you. the pleasure is almost too much and shinichiro's satisfied growls triggers your body to produce more slick. you're dripping wet and the lewd noises of skin hitting are not even loud enough to cover your moans.

shinichiro is also on edge, feeling himself come close he stimulates you with his fingers even more, never letting you rest. he's getting rougher, messing the nest you're in at the same time. he's sucking and biting your neck, whispering in your ears about how good you feel and how full he'll make you.

shinichiro can't help but be swayed by the thought of his pretty omega all swollen because of him. he imagines you carrying his pup, belly huge and a motherly smile on your face.

it makes him want to stay buried inside of you, until he's sure his fantasy will come true.

he feels himself coming close and in one swift motion, you're back on your knees, ass up and chest touching the mattress. you're seeing stars and shinichiro manhandling you like you're some light doll stir up something inside you.

he's biting the mark on the back of your neck, reclaiming you by renewing it. the pain laced with the pleasure he's giving you makes you shake, shinichiro feels it. his praises become clumsier, "good girl"s being whispered at your ear along with deep moans, and his movements loose their harmony.

he's reaching his own high, telling you take it. and take it you did. feeling yourself come loose too, you cum at the same time. shinichiro's chest pressed against your back, you can feel his erratic respiration. he gives you a few thrust, slow and nice to finish you off.

he falls back in the nest, dick still inside. he hugs you from behind and you both stay here until you drive off your high. a content smile is on your face, feeling his soft dick slipping out of you, your gummy walls letting out a few drops of cum with it.

and you then fall asleep to shinichiro's kisses and praises, his reassuring administrations setting your mind into a deeply satisfied haze.

[reiderwriter]

Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3

I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.

The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)

I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">

A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!

Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI

It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.

You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.

You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.

You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.

You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.

JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.

He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.

“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.

He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.

“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.

“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”

“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”

Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.

“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”

“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”

“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.

“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.

–X–

After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.

Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.

You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.

The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.

You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.

“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.

Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.

You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.

“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.

More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.

You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.

“Spencer! What's… what are…”

“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”

You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.

“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”

His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.

“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”

“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”

His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.

His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.

“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”

His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.

You didn't.

Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.

Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.

He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.

He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.

You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.

It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.

The next one was harder though. It was real.

“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.

“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”

His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.

The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.

You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.

You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.

“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.

It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.

It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.

He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.

“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.

“Y-Yes, Spencer.”

“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.

“Yes, sir.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”

With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.

With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.

With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.

It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.

You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.

His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.

You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.

Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.

And most importantly, he didn't stop.

Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.

“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.

“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”

“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.

“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”

“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”

Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.

But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.

“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”

“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”

He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.

“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.

When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.

After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.

He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.

“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”

[attic-club-sandwich]

How They are Handling your Disappearance Pt. 3

MC Returns

Ahh you guys i'm so glad you are enjoying this little series! I wasn't expecting so many of you to like it! But as requested by many, here is part 3 where MC returns to the present day timeline and reunites with the 7 brothers. This is a bit of a lengthy one because like... we are home! It's a little less angsty, a little more happy this time haha. Anyways, please enjoy! Reblogs and feedback are appreciated as usual!

Read Part 1: Brothers

Read Part 2: Side Characters

Word count: 3,057

Rating: T, slightly suggestive.

Taglist: @amberrskiies @obey-me-posts @sassykattery @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @flemmingbamse @a-hidden-gem @otomefoxystar @siofrantic @todothedodo @ihatecorns @exrellian @vernith @sus0daddy

Fill out this form if you want to be tagged in my work!

rose divider by @/firefly-graphics

It feels like it has been forever since the day that you went missing, but the brothers never gave up their search. How could they when you were out there somewhere, possibly alone and scared? The thought of their little human wandering around the unknown gave them the motivation they needed to keep going. But after a long day of once again searching the Devildom up and down with no results, the brothers are settling down for the evening.

Lucifer

The Avatar of Pride is in his room getting ready for bed after a long day of searching for you. 

His wings are terribly sore from flying all day, so he lays on his bed sprawled out on his stomach, allowing his feathery wings to stretch out behind him.  

He rests his head in his arms, and sighs.

Yet another day of searching, but no results. 

Suddenly, he begins to feel a familiar tingling sensation of magic in the air that brings goosebumps to his bare arms. 

Before he had time to process what was happening, a flash of light filled his room, practically blinding him. 

After a few seconds, the light dissipates and there you are, standing in its place. 

Lucifer forgets all about his aching wings, and jumps up from the bed. 

At first, he hesitates, terrified that you’ll disappear again at any moment. 

“M-MC…? Is it really you…?”

His crimson eyes are wide as he takes in your appearance. 

You appear the same, but he's confused by the horns that now rest on your head, as well as a few other demonic attributes.

Just where did you disappear to?

Your face scrunches up and your eyes fill with tears. “L-Luci… yes, it’s really me.” 

Suddenly, his arms are around you, a million questions in his throat but unable to speak.

You whimper, taking in his scent. He smells freshly showered, the smell of his soap sending a wave of comfort crashing over you. 

“Luci… I missed you so much…I’m so sorry…”

His shoulders begin to tremble and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. 

You feel wetness on your skin as he begins to cry. 

Have you ever seen him cry before?

Just how much have they all suffered while I was gone?

Your arms wrap themselves around his neck and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

You stand there in his arms, his wings wrapping themselves around the two of you protectively. 

He will never let you go again. 

After a few moments, he pulls away, staring into your eyes.

“MC, the days I've spent searching for you were endless… but never once did I give up. I’m very glad that I didn’t. Every second was worth my time.”

Suddenly his lips are on yours and you accept his kiss greedily. 

Kissing him was the confirmation you needed that you were home. 

“MC, please forgive me. You can tell me the details later, but right now I just need you. I need to know you are here and…real.” 

He spins you around, guiding you to his bed so the back of your legs hit the edge, causing you to fall back. 

He hovers over top of you, his crimson eyes full of love, adoration, and desire. 

You giggle through your tears, placing a hand on his cheek. “I love you so much, Luci.”

He smiles, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Words alone cannot express my love for you, little one.”

You give him a peck on the lips again. “We have a lot of time to make up for you know… where should we start?”

Lucifer gives you a mischievous grin. “I have just the thing in mind, darling. Something that has been long overdue.”

Mammon

Mammon returned to his bedroom shortly after arriving home. 

He had to check on his ravens who were also out searching for you while they were gone. 

His wings were sore as shit, and all he wanted to do was shower and go to bed. 

But you are more important. 

Throwing open his window, one of his ravens glides down to greet him. 

“Damn, ya didn’t find anything did ya?”

The raven hangs its head sadly, and Mammon sighs.

“Thanks anyways, I appreciate the help.”

Suddenly the raven begins to flap its wings wildly, cawing at something behind him. 

Mammon spins around, and his golden eyes widen in shock when he sees just who is appearing in the middle of his bedroom. 

It was you, clear as day. 

He’s speechless, unable to find the right words even though he’s been playing them on repeat in his head since the day you left. 

“Mammon!” you shout with tears in your eyes. You begin to run towards him, but he meets you halfway, scooping you up into his arms and spinning you around.

He sets you down again, and hugs you snugly to his chest. 

“MC…I… Shit. I-I missed ya so damn much…” he says with a shaky voice. 

You inhale his scent as he hugs you, which smells of sweat and leather. 

You’re home. He’s your Mammon. Finally…

“Mams, I’m so so sorry… I’ll explain everything I promise…”

He pulls you away from him, his golden blue gaze staring intensely at you.

“Damn right ya will! But for now…I don’t care..I just… I need ya so bad… I mean this can’t be real, right?”

You give him a small smile, taking his hand in yours. 

“I’m real, Mammon. I promise.”

His tanned skin is flushed as he pulls you with him to sit on his bed, hoisting you up onto his lap. 

He can’t hold back anymore as he plants a firm kiss to your lips. 

You accept it eagerly. 

Your tongues intertwine briefly before he pulls away, breathless. 

“I love ya MC, I’m so sorry I couldn’t do a damn thing…” 

You silence him with a kiss to the forehead. 

“It’s not your fault, Mammon. Please don’t cry…”

He notices your own lip quivering, and let’s out an amused snort through his tears.

“Don’t you go cryin’ on me either!”

His long, slender fingers run through your hair and you sigh.

His lips are on yours once more, a low growl rumbling in his chest. 

You can sense his overwhelming desire threatening to take over.

“Mammon’s got ya now, treasure. You’re safe with me. I’m never letting you go again.”

Leviathan

Throughout the search, Levi has been exploring every inch of the Devildom waters. 

From seas to lakes, he still could find no trace of you. 

Levi heads back to his room, a towel around his waist after Lucifer forced him to strip in the hallway so he didn’t track water through the house. 

Once he’s dried off and dressed again, he sinks down in his gaming chair, sighing as his aching limbs are finally able to rest. 

Tears welled up in his eyes, disappointed that he let everyone down again. 

Especially you.

I’m so useless, he thinks. 

A stray tear rolls down his cheek, and he wipes it away with his arm. 

A flash of light appears before him, and it sends a tingling sensation up his body. 

Wait a minute…that’s…!

His eyes are wide and his mouth gapes open as he looks up to see you standing there right in front of him.

“M-MC, I-Is it really y-you?!” Of course he’s a stuttering mess, but he can’t believe it.

He doesn’t know when he stood up, but suddenly you are slamming into him, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“Yes, Levi. It’s me.” you sob, burying your face into his chest.

Your voice has him melting in your grip. 

He finally fully embraces you, burning his face into your hair. 

Your scent is slightly different,  and he can smell other demons on you. 

This sends a wave of envy over him, but he ignores it. All he cares about is that you’re home.

He, however, smells of the sea. 

“Levi, I'm so sorry… I promise I’ll explain. I just really need you right now. I’ve missed you so much…”

Leviathan only nods, his shoulders trembling from the sobs that are escaping him. 

You stay standing there wrapped in his arms, gently rubbing circles on his back. 

After some time, he calms down. 

His eyes are red and puffy and his face is swollen. Your heart aches for him. 

Suddenly, he grabs your hand, leading you over with him to his bathtub. 

You climb in together, and you sit in his lap. His tail curls around you, holding you in place. 

“M-MC…can I um, k-kiss you?” he asks, his tear stained cheeks becoming flushed. 

You nod eagerly, and he places a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. 

Your lips are the same as ever, soft and sweet. 

Levi is overwhelmed with affection for you. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” he mutters, rocking you gently in his lap. 

He peppers your face with kisses and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I love you so much too, Levi. I’m so glad to be home…” 

He rests his head on your shoulder, purple strands of his hair tickling your cheek. 

“Please don’t leave me like that again, MC. I-I was so scared…”

The tremor in his voice causes fresh tears to form in the corner of your eyes. 

“Never again, I’m staying right here with you.”

Satan

Satan steps over the pile of books on his floor before flopping down onto his bed. 

His bedroom is in quite the disarray due to his last tantrum. 

He can’t help that he’s just so damn frustrated!

They’ve practically searched the Devildom inside out, and still… nothing. 

He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares out the window, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. 

He almost doesn’t notice the burst of light filling his bedroom. 

The air was practically vibrating with magic when he spun his head around to see the silhouette of a figure in the blinding light. 

He squints, trying his best to make out the form. Once the light dissipates, an unfamiliar feeling washes over him. 

Satan thought he’s finally experienced every emotion in his lifetime of being in the Devildom. 

But what he feels when he sees you standing there in his bedroom is indescribable. 

He gasps, immediately jumping up from his bed and hurrying over to you. 

Your eyes are locked on him, and he thought he noticed you flinch the moment he approached you. 

“MC… are… you okay? Where in the Devildom have you been?”

His voice is soft, but it trembles slightly.

He doesn’t expect answers right away, of course. 

Not when you are standing here in front of him for the first time in what feels like an eternity.  

You nod, trying to wipe away your tears. “Satan… It’s me. I-I’m home.”

The sound of his name leaving your lips after so long pushes him over the edge. 

He pulls you into his arms and he squeezes you tight, finally allowing his tears to fall. 

“M-MC… I'm so glad you’re home safe… I was so worried about you…”

You relax against his chest, finally processing the fact that this wasn’t the past version of himself.

After a few moments, you sniff, pulling away from him to gaze into his eyes. You notice a scar on his cheek, still healing from a recent fight he must have had. 

You gently trace your fingers over it, and he winces. 

“I’m so sorry Satan…the pain that I must have caused you all…” 

He shakes his head, glancing away. 

“I’m just so relieved you are home, MC. I don’t believe that whatever happened was your fault.” 

His fingers run through your hair and he kisses your forehead. 

“Can I…kiss you?” you ask, your cheeks flushing slightly. Normally you wouldn’t ask, but it’s been awhile. 

“Of course, kitten. But just know if you do, I may not be able to hold myself back from you much longer.”

You give him a smirk, and press your lips firmly to his. 

To finally kiss your Satan once more. 

He slips his tongue past your lips, and you groan. 

When you pull away, his emerald eyes are shining with passion. 

“Every book I read told me how to find you, but they never mentioned how to handle your return.” 

He moves you to his bed with him so you are straddling his lap.

“But I don’t believe I need any instruction as to what comes next. I love you, MC. Please allow me to express the longing I’ve felt for you all this time.”

Asmodeus

Asmo had made his way to his room for the evening with the overwhelming urge to climb into his silk bed sheets. 

But first he really wanted a bath. The thought of the warm water soothing his aching joints was very pleasant to him right now. 

He had made his way into the bathroom to start the water, the noise of the faucet drowning out the sound coming from his bedroom. 

Asmo thought he heard something, and he lifted his head to the door that connects from the bathroom to his room. 

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. 

Was that a flash of light just now? Is it storming?

He furrowed his brow in confusion, and stepped slowly over to peek through the door. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. 

There you were, standing right there in his bedroom. 

Your eyes were wide and looking around, still processing where you had appeared. 

Asmo gasps, forgetting about the bath and hurries over to you. 

“M-MC?!” he shrieks, pulling you into the tightest hug he’s sure he’s ever given. 

You begin to cry, tears falling down your cheeks and onto his shoulder.

“Shhh, MC. Don’t cry now, darling…” he coos, but his own tears are escaping him. 

He holds you close as you cry together. 

“Asmodeus…is… it really you? My Asmo?” you whimper. 

He’s confused by what you mean, but he doesn’t question it for now. 

“Of course my little lamb, it’s me. You’re home now…”

You sniff, pulling away from him slightly. “I’m so sorry Asmo, I swear I didn’t mean to leave you guys like that…”

Taking your hands in his, he shakes his head. “No no, hon, don’t blame yourself for this. I know there’s a very good reason, but you can explain later to all of us, okay?” 

You nod, wiping your eyes. 

“I was just about to get a bath. Would you care to join me, MC?”

The thought of taking a bath with Asmo right now feels…unreal. 

You couldn’t believe you were finally home with him. 

Smiling, he leads you into the bathroom. 

First, he steps out of his robe, and your face flushes. 

You’ll never get over how beautiful he is. 

Then it’s your turn.

You shiver as he begins to undress you, his fingers brushing over your skin. 

He smiles softly as he notices the goosebumps that begin to form on your body. 

“I’ve missed this so much. Let me get a good look at you, darling.”

His eyes tear up again as his eyes travel over your body, still in disbelief that you were standing right there with him again after so long.

“I need all the time I can get with you right now before my brothers find out you’re home.”

He takes your hand and helps guide you into the bathtub. 

You sigh as the warm water envelops you and he places you in between his legs with your back to him. 

You feel his arms wrap themselves around you and you blush.“I’ve only been dreaming of this moment with you, MC.” Asmo murmurs, attaching his lips to your shoulder. 

You whine as he continues to kiss up your neck. 

“I love you so much, Asmo…”

He smiles into the crook of your neck as he holds you close. 

“My dear, if anything came out of your disappearance, it’s how much I realized that I love you. Please, allow me to show you…”

Beelzebub and Belphegor

The twins were always together nowadays. 

They were both getting ready for bed in their room after their long day, neither of them wanting to speak about the disappointing results of the search. 

Belphie hugged his pillow to his chest as he climbed into bed beside Beel. 

He was struggling to stay awake, but he had a peculiar feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Of course, being his twin, Beel felt it too. It wasn’t hunger, or anything like that… It was…

“Belphie do you feel…”

Before he could finish, a burst of light filled the room, temporarily blinding them both.

The sensation of magic through the air sent shivers down their spines. 

Once the light dulled, they glanced up through squinted eyes to see… you. 

Wait, is that really…?

Despite the dull ache in their bodies, they both jump up.

“MC!” their violet eyes are wide as they gape at you, still trying to decide if this was real or a cruel hallucination.

But you seem just as surprised as they are. 

Suddenly, you feel yourself being pulled into a strong embrace. 

Belphie is squeezed into the hug next to you, and you both glance up to see Beel with tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“B-Beel… Belphie…I’ve missed you both so much…”

You sob, burying your face into Beel’s chest.

Belphie finally allows his tears to fall. I’m so lame, he thinks.

How dare you make him cry like this?

But he’s so happy. So relieved. 

Beel begins to move you both towards his bed, placing you right between him and his brother. 

You whimper as you feel their arms wrap around you. 

The thought of being able to do this again with them never even crossed your mind. 

You feel Beel nuzzle his face into your hair. 

You smelled…different. But there was no denying your familiar scent and it made his mouth water.

Belphie yawned, burying his face into your shoulder. 

“Beel and I had each other, but MC… you are our missing piece.”

His twin nodded, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Belphie is right. It feels right again with you here in between us.”

Your heart was so full. 

You smiled wide as you kissed both of their foreheads. 

“My boys…I love you so much.”

As you laid together, they took turns littering you with kisses and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

The feeling of their lips and their hands on your body has your head spinning, and you whisper their names between breathless gasps. 

After sometime, Beel turned towards you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

“I’m feeling a bit hungry…but for something different. How about you Belphie?”

Belphie immediately sensed where his twin was going and flashed him a smile back.

“I’m all of a sudden wide awake. What do you say you join us, MC? We want you to ourselves before we have to go back to sharing you.”

[gothgleek]

Adrian Chase Nsfw Alphabet

TW: mentions of canon torture (nothing explicit or of a sexual nature though), blood, and knife play.

Disclaimer: I do not own Peacemaker or DC Comics or the images used in any form.

Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated 🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This boy is touch starved so no matter how long the two of you were going at it, Adrian will wrap around you like an octopus and kiss your neck.

Unfortunately, Adrian is also cringe. He will give you a high five and thank you for letting him ‘smash that ass!’ Every. Single. Time.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Adrian spent a lot of time crafting his body into the killing machine that it is so he loves his entire body (except his missing toes) but his most favorite would probably be his ass. He likes the way you react when you see it. But before you, it was his abs.

His favorite part of you is your ass as well. He’s an ass man.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes cumming on your ass but if you beg him enough he’ll cum inside you too. If you wear glasses, he likes covering it with cum as well.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes eating ass (but that’s hardly a secret).

He also fantasizes about fucking you while he’s on patrol but that’s unfortunately illegal so he only enjoys it in theory rather than practice. (Unfortunately, he takes vigilantism very seriously.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not a ton of experience. Honestly, he’s only had threesomes with Chris and whoever is into Chris. He tends to be ignored but he was happy to watch. “Less chances of getting my mask removed!” It takes him a minute to realize you only want him and a little longer how to have sex with only one other person.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything involving picking you up. He likes to show off how strong he is for you. He gives you a whole goofy smile and everything. Alternatively, any position where he can grab, smack, or watch his cock go in and out of your ass.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Pre- relationship, he was adamant that the mask stays ON during sex. Post relationship he was serious about learning how to please you. Other than that, the two of you are bound to burst into giggles at least twice while fucking.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is waxed because his suit is best without hair getting caught. But if you preferred he grew it out for a vacation away from vigilantism, his public hair is a dirty blonde and his chest hair is a light brown.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is hardly a natural romantic and the advice he gets from Chris has… mixed results to say the least. His attempts at romance are cheap and cheesy at the least (flower petals in the shape of a heart, a box of dollar store chocolate, some leftover pie from the diner, etc.) But he does make you feel looked at and cared for during sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t really get horny, maybe a few times a month, since he is pretty busy. Of course, upon meeting you he is willing to

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s into roleplay, especially the kinds where he can rescue you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s pretty vanilla in this aspect as he likes to fuck inside his place. But he does enjoy picking you up and taking you from room to room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He likes making you laugh at his dirty jokes and pickup lines. He always likes you covered in lingerie and blood and hopes to see you in both one day. Outside of you, if he kills someone in a really cool way, he will run home and start eating you out without even taking his uniform off.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

The funniest answer is that I think that Adrian has all the federal and state laws memorized so he will not do anything illegal- even the ridiculously outdated laws. Like, if you happen to be in one of the states that forbids extramarital sex like Utah or Idaho, he will not have sex with you until you cross that border.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a giver 1000% but he also enjoys getting a blowjob while you have someone else (aka Chris) or a toy in your ass and watching you give someone/a toy a blowjob while he fucks you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s used to doing it hard and fast but he does dedicate a lot of time to foreplay.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies with the two of you were born out of necessity since you’re traveling together. Even when you settle down for long periods of time, he will have a quickie in the motel room if you ask. But in those moments, he would prefer to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I think he would be into knife play and maybe wax play but that’s as far as he will go. Someone brought up the idea of using a cattle prod and he was curious but right now he associates extreme bdsm with losing his toes and nothing is as much of a boner killer as that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

By virtue of his threesome exclusive past, he is used to going multiple rounds. His recovery period depends on how much exercise he’s gotten that day but he will use toys or something to keep you ready for him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He appreciates toys and will use them on his partner. He’s especially found of DP-ing you with a teal dildo you bought together. Sometimes, if he’s feel cruel, he’ll tie you up and leave a vibrator on your clit.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a pretty impatient guy who values the power of a quickie but he knows sometimes teasing is better than the actual sex.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not loud but he is super chatty and will talk you through it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would like to have sex with you on a boat with flames on it while dolphins swim around you two. Ideally, you would also be a mermaid in this scenario.

He also had Chris make him a sex playlist… depending on your taste in music, it’s very cute or incredibly cringey.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Solid muscle with a v line and no body hair and an ass like a baseball player. He likes to say he’s as smooth as a dolphin.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty low. You usually are the one to initiate things. Non-sexually though, he is pretty clingy and wants to be with you all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep pretty quickly, he likes to keep his days and nights busy after all!

[byunpum]

Hi! Can you write a one shot between AonungxHuman!Reader ? I’m literally Inlove with your work like

it’s literally all a masterpiece like literally Absolute Perfection. Every time you post I look forward to reading your Writing.

Pair: Ao'nung x Human reader (kiri twin)

Warning: sexual harassment, cute moments.

Note: I got a little excited about this oneshot ehehehe. I hope you like it. By the way, I have received all the requests, they are quite a lot. So I'm answering them little by little. I like to take my time so that the stories are original. So please be patient with me, and thanks a lot for the support.

Avatar Masterlist

Being kiri's twin sister was never easy for you. Especially being human. Grace's avatar had given birth to two completely different babies. One completely na'vi and the other completely human. The babies had peculiar things, like kiri had more human features, her hands and etc. And that you could breathe the air of pandora without problems and yellow eyes. Jake and neytiri couldn't adopt a girl and leave the other girl abandoned, so they adopted both of them and raised them as their own daughters. Being different in the omaticaya clan was never a problem, your father was the clan leader, no one dared to say anything about you. But leaving the clan, leaving everything behind. You arrived in a totally new clan, where the presence of your family was strange. You were an alien, harmful and dangerous.

It was difficult for Jake to convince the metkayina clan leaders. Ronal and Tonowari had never seen humans so close. Jake explained everything to them, while neytiri held your hand. After a few long minutes, Ronal and Tonowari accepted your presence. Neytiri had to stand up to the comments that Ronal was saying about you. Thanks to eywa, you quickly fit in with the clan. The ones who didn't fit in with you were a group of metkayina boys who kept annoying you on a daily basis. At first you thought it was normal, your presence was strange to them. But as the years went by, everything became more complicated. It had been two years since you lived in the Metkayina clan, and you were still being harassed by these men. But they were no longer children, but grown men who liked to bother you.

It was midday, and you had gone for a walk with neteyam. It was one of those quiet days where you spent time with your older brother. You were both exploring an island, it was small and had a beautiful creek. Full of precious stones. They were so pretty, perfect for your collection. "Nete…look!!!" you speak, running to sit on the edge of the creek. You pull out a notebook that belonged to your mother, looking through the pages trying to find a picture of some stone that was found on the creek. Neteyam found this adorable, but boring. He knelt down a bit next to you. "Y/n…I'm going for a swim with my ilu, stay here. Yes?" says neteyam, placing his hand on your head. You look up, giving him a smile. "Yes…don't worry" you speak, turning your full attention back to your notebook. You can feel yourself getting lonely, because the silence that had fallen was so soothing.

You settle back in your seat, and begin to look at the rocks in the water. Analyzing them, and making mental notes. You regret not having brought your pencil (which was made of wood and charcoal). You can hear several Na'vi approaching. Most of them were women with their children, sitting on the edge to clean some fruits with the fresh water and some fish. You liked being in this place, you liked the sea and everything to do with it. You see a few women greet you, and you return the gesture. The clan was kind to you, after meeting you they became more open to you. You were grateful that they were so friendly with your presence. Enjoying the scenery, you can see that the creek is spreading out beyond the wooded area. You knew you should not leave this place, neteyam would be coming for you soon. And you knew your father didn't like you wandering around unsupervised. According to Jake, the Pandora Seas were too dangerous for you. But you weren't going to go far…just a little.

You get up from the ground, and follow the water current. Entering the wet jungle, while walking and jumping on the rocks. You stay like this for at least 10 minutes, glancing back. You see that you have wandered too far. So you decide to stop walking, sitting on the side of the creek, to take a look at the new rocks that now reflected from the depth. They were so beautiful, with different colors and shapes. You had to have several for your collection and others to make new pieces of clothing with kiri and tuk. You hear how several branches move, and you become alert. Watching as out of the bushes come the group of metkayina men who were always having some trouble with you. "Look what we have here" says one of them. Approaching, while the others followed him. "Hello" you speak up, you were never a spoiled girl. So you wave at him, and decide to keep looking and picking up your rocks. "Hey…what are you doing here all alone?" the man kneels down, to be closer to you. "I'm not alone, I'm with my brother" you speak up, sitting up straighter to confront them.

"Really? I don't see anyone here" the man signals with his hands. Looking at his friends, as they laughed evilly. You felt nervous, you were so scared. "I should get back…goodbye" you start to get up from the ground, but you feel one of them grab your arm. Causing you to sit up suddenly, you groan in pain. "Tell me…what do you have here?" one of the men, takes the notebook you were holding in your hands. "Give me that…that's important to me" you shout, getting up from the ground, trying to take the object from his hands. But this was useless, you were too small compared to them. "Do you want it back?" speaks the na'vi who was the leader of the group. "Yes, please" you speak, lowering your hands to now place them on your chest. "If you want it back, you have to bend down on the ground…just for curiosity" says the man. Your eyes widen. "For what?" you speak, but you see how they all laugh. And he pulls you close. "We're curious about you…mmm why don't you do us that favor and let us see what your cute little cunt looks like" the man speaks cheekily.

You can feel your heartbeat quicken, you could feel your stomach churning. You were aware that your body was curious to the na'vi. But this was something that was not right, you knew. All the alarms in your body were on fire, as you wished neteyam was here. Your eyes began to fill with tears, as you watched those na'vi boys waiting for your answer with a smile on their face. "N…no, please give me back my notebook…I won't do anything" you scream a little, but it sounds more like a cry of desperation. "Well…if you don't" says the boy holding the notebook in his hand, holding it close to the water. Making the gesture as if he's going to drop it. You reach over, hopping a little to grab it. "Ah, ah, ah, ah on the ground…and then the notebook" the man speaks, you move a little away.

The noises of the argument had caught the attention of ao'nung, who had gone for a ride with his ilu, in an attempt to distract himself from his labors. He had left his ilu at the other end of the island, while he walked and explored the small island. Not 10 minutes had passed, when he heard your voice. He knew her very well… he spent a lot of time with the Sully family. And as strange as it sounds… he had memorized all the tones of voice that came out of your mouth. He becomes alert, when he can sense a hint of desperation in your tone, so he decides to look for where it's coming from. Walking slowly, he arrives at your location. He slowly approaches and realizes that you are not alone. He makes a face of annoyance, when he hears the voice of the group of men. "They have nothing better to do," thinks ao'nung to himself, as he glances through some bushes.

He is very surprised, with the scene that his eyes had found. You were on the ground, on all fours. With your head pressed tightly to the ground. While one of the men held you in place, with one foot on your back. "Ok… why don't you help us and move the cloth to see you completely" says the man. This makes ao'nung furious, who without thinking comes out of his hiding place. All of them, noticing the presence of the future clan leader, move away from you. You collapse on the ground, feeling pain in your back and face. "What the hell is going on here!!!" shouts ao'nung, pushing one of the men. With such force that he was left sitting on the ground, hitting his head on a tree trunk. "I'm sorry…it's " tries to apologize to one of the group men.

"I want you to get the hell out of here!!!! Because if I don't I swear" before ao'nung could finish, the group of men had run out of the place. One of them threw the notebook in your direction, running away in fear. After standing still in place, furious. Ao'nung turns in your direction. He sees that you were sitting, seeing if you had any wounds on your knees. "Y/N…are you okay?" says ao'nung approaching you. You look up, revealing a tear-stained face. The boy brings his hand up to your face, to wipe it a little. "I'm sorry…I promise you that as soon as I get to the village I will take care of them. This will not stay like this" says ao'nung trying to comfort you. But he sees that this does not cheer you up. He knows how sad you must feel. You were the butt of these idiots' jokes, and they are already going too far with you. "Are you feeling okay?" ao'nung now sits down next to you. He sees how in your hands you hold some sort of notebook. He recognized it right away…it's that thing you always carry with you.

"It's been damaged…it's almost destroyed" you speak, moving some pages of your notebook. Which was wet. When they threw it on the ground, it had fallen near the water. You tried to pick it up, but it was too late. "But…Y/N. You were willing to let them hurt you for this thing" says ao'nung, touching the cover of the notebook with his finger. You look up somewhat annoyed. "This isn't just a thing…this belonged to my mom. She had her whole life here…what she had done and discovered in Pandora. This is important to me…this brings me closer to her." You cry, as you hug the notebook to your chest. Ao'nung decides to say nothing, and respects your space. Letting you cry and vent for a while. After a while…he comes closer to you. Stroking your hair, he wraps his hand around your shoulder so that you lie on his chest. He can notice, how your crying gets louder. And decides to hug you.

" Calm down" he says with a gentle tone. He feels you pull away a little, "Thank you for helping me…I was so scared" ao'nung can see your puffy eyes, and your pink cheeks. "You're welcome…and I'm sorry you had to go through that…but you shouldn't risk yourself like that. It's dangerous," says ao'nung, stroking your arm with his hand. Holding you in place, on your chest. "I know…but look" you move away a little, but not so much as to break the physical contact you had now. He can watch as you search through the pages. "See this?" you hold up the notebook so he can get a better look. It was a drawing of an aquatic flower, it was red with blue. He couldn't see it in detail, because the paint had begun to fade. "Mom wrote here that it is a flower that only grows in the deep sea" he sees as you drop your head on his chest. You sigh, as you wipe away a few tears. "How I wish I could see one… in this notebook is everything I want to be someday" you speak. Ao'nung enjoyed the moment, he liked listening to you talk about your dreams. "They are syulangs, they grow the depths and then they can live anywhere. They generate a kind of oil, it is good for the skin and has a very good smell" says Ao'nung, lowering his gaze. Noticing how your eyes widen. "Have you seen them?" you ask, at this point you had turned away from him. Taking his face in your hands, bringing your face closer to his. You were now inches apart, and ao'nung was getting nervous. You had never been so close to him.

He had never analyzed your beautiful features. You were strange…but beautiful at the same time. His tail began to wag back and forth. He didn't know what you were talking about, you kept on talking while he was unmoved watching, how you talked, moved your hands. Even how your nose wrinkled, every time you raised your arms. "Ao'nung…can you take me to see them?" you ask, now you had caught his full attention. "Ahhh yes…sure" the boy says. Feeling you hug him by the neck. "Ahhh thank you" you speak, now sounding calmer. He hugs you back, closing his eyes. They stay like that for a while, until you hear your brother's voice. "Y/N!!!" neteyam shouts.

"I'm here!!!" you shout back, watching as your brother emerges from the bushes. You pick yourself up off the ground, moving away from ao'nung. The boy stands with empty arms, watching as you run to your brother hugging him. "Where were you? Are you okay?" asks neteyam, making you turn around, checking for injuries. He can tell, your knees are a little scraped. "And this?" says neteyam, taking your leg in the air to get a better look. "Nete be careful !!!!" you shout, sometimes your brother could forget that you were very small compared to him. "I'm fine… don't worry" you speak. But you see how ao'nung approaches you. "That group of men were bothering her…but I was able to get there in time" says ao'nung. Neteyam thanks him, he had a long time defending his sister from those idiots. It was not an easy task. "Well…I think we'd better go home" says neteyam, taking your hand. He had noticed the looks ao'nung was giving you. "Yes please..I want to rest" you speak, moving closer to give ao'nung one last hug. hugging his hand tightly. "Again…thank you. See you later "you speak, pulling away from the boy.

A few minutes after you had left, au'nung decided to return to his ilu. But just as he took the first step, he noticed that you had left your notebook on the floor. He picked it up, and noticed that it was open at the page where the flower was drawn. He chuckled a little to himself, remembering with excitement that you told him everything. This little object was so important to you, you could give your life for it. It seemed silly to him, so he looked through the pages more. And he found a picture, in it appeared a woman with red hair, two men and other women. It had some words written in Na'vi, which said 'family' or 'my family'. Right next to that picture, there was another one…where you could see all the members of the family. But they were all small. Ao'nung looked at it with curiosity. So this was what you protected so much…you were adorable.

The night came, and as it was obvious. Neteyam had to tell her father what had happened. He couldn't help it, as soon as you entered the marui. Your mother saw that your knees were bleeding. So while you sat there watching your mother heal your wounds, you listened as your father scolded Neteyam. "I told you not to go away from her…if you go to the water. Your sister goes with you, otherwise you stay by her side" jake is a little upset. "Something serious could have happened" jake yells. "But it didn't happen…dad calm down" you speak from the other side of marui. You hadn't told anyone about what really happened to you and the disgusting comments those men said. You knew your father would do something crazy, and you didn't want to cause trouble. After a while, everyone is quiet going about their own business. You were playing with tuk, when you hear a tapping at the entrance of the marui.

Ao'nung was there, holding a basket full of flowers syulangs. The boy peeked his head to the side, meeting your eyes. He could see, how your eyes lit up. "Ahhh…mmm I brought something for Y/N" says ao'nung, you could feel the nervousness in his voice. You get up from the ground, and walk quickly to him. Everyone in the family looked at each other they were a little confused, but lo'ak's giggles could be heard. "Shhh shut up" you gesture to your brother to shut up. Moving closer to ao'nung, you both step further out of the marui, for some privacy. "Where? You brought them for…" you were interrupted when ao'nung put the basket down. "For you…I got them for you," says the boy. You put a hand to your mouth, you are surprised and grateful. No one has ever made this gesture to you…no one. "I'm sorry about what happened this afternoon… I'm sorry you didn't feel comfortable, I know it's hard to be you in this clan, but I want you to know" says ao'nung, taking your hands, to give them a little squeeze. "That I see you," says ao'nung. He could see how flushed you were getting. "Are you okay?" asks the boy, watching as you bend over and take the basket in your hands. And you run off to your marui. "Y/N wait!!! Your notebook!!!" yells ao'nung.

Watching as you run back, quickly taking the notebook from his hand. Not if before, taking his hand and dragging it down. Now he was at your level, and feels you reach over and give him a kiss on the cheek. "I see you too ao'nung" you speak, laughing a little, to quickly enter your marui. Leaving him alone there, flushed and surprised. His heart was pounding, he had to control himself. He didn't know how he had created these feelings for you, but he loved feeling them so much.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

haha im back from the dead to be annoying >:)

Btw zhongli pantalone and childe you know the one where you made her like a child hissing at them. What if they suddenly became like a calm and kind darling after one of the biggest child screaming last night and like they also stop fighting or anything but will be Affectionate if you treat them kindly and won’t force them >;)

ah this is such a good idea! i apologize that it took me so long to get to it but i hope you like it :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of stockholm syndrome, mentions of drugging, mentions of mind breaking, being held against will, being deprived of food, being deprived of sunlight, delusional behaviors, and other potential topics. Please Read At Your Own Risk!

Yandere!Zhongli would be skeptical, while he likes the idea that you finally came around, he knows it’s not true. He’d continue to keep you trapped in one room for a while, testing the limits of your sudden kindness and docility. If you should continue to act well, he may begin to step back a bit, allowing you to be in a less secure room, one with windows, perhaps even a real light.

It was startling at first, to suddenly find you so calm and pliant. Zhongli had almost believed you’d finally been broken mentally, a sad side effect he had considered from the beginning due to your aggression towards him. He was pleasantly surprised to find you were simply docile now, no mental break or severe lapse in brain capacity. Was it accepting your situation? Stockholm syndrome perhaps? Or were you just playing along in hopes of earning some freedom? Zhongli tests the boundaries for the next few days. Seeing how close you’ll allow him, how much he can come in contact with you before you lash out, all the little affectionate things he’d been dying to do that your previous behavior had prevented. If you should continued to behave, he would reward you with a new room. This room had real windows, the glass is reinforced and there are many fine nails sealing it shut, but it’s something.

Yandere!Pantalone would be wary. He thinks it’s a ruse to get him to lighten up on you, but he doesn’t. The chains bound to your ankles that lock you in the room, limiting your range of movement and keeping you tied down remain in place. The guards stay outside your door and the windows remain sealed shut. If you continue to behave well, he’ll reward you with some small gifts that you can enjoy but nothing more. It takes a long while to earn his trust, it’s something you must really work for.

The first few days of your sudden shift in behavior are handled exactly how they were before. Pantalone would leave you alone for the day, coming to visit only at your feeding time, which was dinner time for the rest. The only difference he made was that he spoon-fed you, typically he’d set your tray at the foot of your bed and set up a small table and chair for himself just outside your reach. He liked the calmer attitude you had, it made the polite discussion over dinner more enjoyable now that he actually received responses. It took a few weeks of this polite behavior for him to start bringing you better gifts. Things like puzzles, books, and other things you hadn’t previously been allowed due to the danger factor of them. From there he slowly starts to visit you more, coming to your room during breakfast and dinner, and eventually he’s there for all three meals. He’s a very patient man, he spent his life building himself to be the legacy he is now, he has no problem waiting out this little game of yours. Doesn’t mean he won’t enjoy it while it lasts though.

Yandere!Childe would be the most accepting of this. He’d assume you’d just finally accepted your situation, as escape was inevitable with him looming over your every move. He’d take you on walks around the palace now, sit closer to you when you two would eat together, cuddle with you at night, anything you’d finally allow him to do and he’d do it. He is so devoted to you and your happiness that he’s over the moon now that you’ve accepted him, accepted that you two must be together.

Waking up beside you had never felt better, now that you could actually cuddle him back. Before when he’d have to use other methods of keeping you calm, it just wasn’t ever right, but now, now it was perfect. Childe liked this new you, the you that smiled at him when he said a stupid joke, the you that let him mess with your hair in the morning, styling it how he thought best for the day. The you that let him take you one walks around the palace, your arm linked in his as he told you about his grand adventures. He hoped it was just you finally realizing that you love him too, and that you were destined to be together that made you like this. Part of him gnaws in the back of his mind, worrying that he had messed with your head too much and that you’d developed stockholm syndrome, but he doesn’t think that’s so bad. After all, you finally loved him back, why did it matter how you’d come to that conclusion.

[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.

[mothdruid]

Happy birthday!! Can I please get "you’re freezing, come here.” With Hangman?

Fast like Rain

pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x gn!reader

word count: 1k

summary: Your childhood best friend, Jake, is home from deployment. The two of you spend the day together and it ends with a cold but sweet treat.

a/n: sorry this took so long to write! my blurbs keep end up being longer than just blurbs lmao. i hope you enjoy!!

The day had started out great. Jake was home on leave for a little bit, meaning that you finally got to see your best friend after months of his deployment. He had promised you one full day of hanging out when he had left. So, it was time for him to honor that promise.

The day had started with brunch from his favorite local diner, to which he ordered his classic sunny side up eggs with crispy bacon and toast. You ordered your own favorite meal, earning teasing when you ordered your classic cup of orange juice. Jake never let you live that down, always joking that you were never going to fully grow up.

The two of you spent the next few hours doing whatever. It was so refreshing to finally have Jake home. He was your best friend no matter what, even if you happened to have a little bit more than just platonic feelings for him. It was hard not to like him. He had that Texan charm you had grown up dreaming about.

Charm with a bit of asshole to him, and it honestly made your heart sing. Maybe that's because he didn't intimidated you, instead it pushed you to be an asshole right back at him. Which Jake himself loved about you. Every time you ever swore at him and yelled at him, he would later that night think about it in bed, wondering if you would speak that way if you were underneath him.

The two of you were currently in some random field outside of town. Jake had decided to drive the old beater truck he had during high school while he was in town. So the tailgate was currently down, the both of you sitting on it with your legs dangling. The soft yet dry tall grass was brushing against your ankles.

"Are you serious?" You laughed after asking.

"Come on, of course, how could you not believe me?" Jake retorted.

"You weren't a track star in school, that's why!"

"I played football," Jake reminded you.

"As a QB, not a running back!" You could help the laughter that came from you.

"Fine," Jake hoped off the tailgate, "let's race."

The laughter immediately stopped when you heard him. You both had been too caught up in each other to have noticed the darker clouds starting to consume the sky. You gave Jake a serious look, tiling your head as if to question his seriousness.

"Hey, I'm being serious here," Jake threw his hands up in defense.

"One hundred percent?" You questioned.

He took his right index finger and drew a cross over his heart. You hoped down off the tailgate and stood face to face with him. You crossed your arms, signaling that you meant business.

"What's in it for me?"

"I'll buy you ice cream," Jake said.

"Fence line?"

Jake shook his head yes, that stupid smirk on his face. Without a second thought you took off running. You heard Jake yell from behind you about how he never said start. All you did was throw a middle finger back at him. Jake chased you all the way to the fence line, huffing once he finally caught up to you. You had been waiting for only a few seconds since reaching it. Your own breath was heavy, lungs struggling to keep up.

"Guess you aren't that fast," you chuckled while trying to steady your breathing. You looked over at Jake and then leaned again the fence post next to you.

"I don't know if that counts," Jake joked. He moved near you, putting a hands on the same post you were leaning on.

The two of you were close, only a few inches separating your bodies. Smiles adorned both of your faces while you stared at each other. You could never get tried of staring at him. Yeah, he looked like a generic jock, but he was your generic jock. Those green eyes never left yours, and a part of was starting to wonder if the two of you were moving closer towards one another.

Suddenly there was a loud rumble through the sky. It was only then that both of you noticed the dark sky. You examined the sky, a small drop of water hit your skin. Jake felt one too, looking at you quickly. It was seconds before a complete down pour started. You howled in laughter and shock as Jake just started laughing. After a few more seconds of taking the rain in, you ran back towards the truck. Jake was right behind you, stopping to lift the tailgate back up while you climbed into the cab.

"Holy shit," the words were breathy from your laughter.

"That was a surprise," Jake said.

The both of you were practically soaked. His t-shirt was practically a different color now. Yours was about the same though. Little goosebumps were starting to prick up along your skin. Jake noticed this when you wrapped your arms around yourself. He reached out hesitantly, brushing his knuckles against your skin.

"You're freezing," he whispered, "come here."

Jake opened his arms and gestured for you to move closer to him. You hesitated for a minute, eventually moving into his arms. Jake's arm were so warm, they were like one of his old sweatshirts that you had stolen forever ago. The sound of rain filled the silence between the two of you.

"I missed you."

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. You sat up a little and looked at Jake. There was worry weaved through your expression as if you had done something wrong. Jake moved a hand to your jaw, cupping it then leaning in.

Neither of you fought it, leaning into the kiss and your emotions. For so long the both of you had fought them, telling yourselves that this couldn't be real. But it was.

Jake pulled back and just stared at you, a small smile on his lips. He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, marveling internally at how soft your skin was.

"I missed you too."