#last semester i. well i did not start as early as i should have but i had a topic by this point just bc

[geddyqueer]

i would love some tunnel fic AND (/or) ⛏️💕⛏️

ok i'm holding off on posting more about tunnel fic until i actually write more words. but because you asked so nicely, you're getting some background of geology fic AND a snippet.

this fic came about because annie sent me some bts shot of lou where he's wearing a fishing vest and i was like this is geology professor core. and then i simply couldn't stop thinking about it. back in my wayward youth i was a geology major and i've always thought that a field study would make for a great character study template, so the fic is laid out like a report:

the OTHER major player in this fic is that concept a few people were kicking around several months ago when that interview dropped about buck and tommy learning more about each other as their relationship developed (LOL LMAO!) that maybe tommy had a past partner who had died. and annie and i were sitting there in the sandbox, and we were like: what if his partner who died was older than him. what if his partner who died had been in a position of authority over him. what if his partner who died had been not only his professor and academic mentor, but also his gay mentor. and now, what if buck, a young spritely 20-something, recently self-actualized, with the hots for his older professor, was pushing up against all of that history of tommy's. all set against the background of my second-favorite thing to think about: rocks!

anyway, here's a snippet:

The room is dark, but the door's unlocked. Buck takes a chance and pushes it open. It doesn't look like there's anyone else in there, but there is a weird lump in the front corner behind the desk, and he can't quite make out what it is until he flips the light switch on and the lump startles and jumps and–it's a guy. 

Not just a guy, but the guy.

Even with the memory of the jacket he was sleeping on imprinted deep into his face, Buck can tell he’s good looking. He has eyes, after all. And speaking of eyes, this guy—and it has to be the same one whose papers Buck has been reading all week—well, his eyes are piercingly dark blue. He blinks rapidly, sits up, and stares Buck down with those eyes.

"Uh, hi," Buck says, as the guy shoves his jacket off the desk and slaps his own face a couple of times and gets to his feet. "Are you Dr. Kinard?"

"Shit," the guy says, his voice cracking a little with sleep. He clears his throat. "Was I supposed to have a TA this semester? Sorry–"

"Oh, no, no, I'm, uh. I'm just a student," Buck says with a chuckle. He doesn't mean to, but he bobs his head like he's shy. He's not shy! He's just clearly in the right place at the wrong time. Maybe he should let the guy snooze, come back in half an hour.

The guy–Dr. Kinard–frowns, and wow, the picture of him on the UC-Pasadena Geology Department website does not do him justice. He's really earned that spicy pepper, Buck thinks, and then mentally kicks himself for it. "Huh," Dr. Kinard says, then: "Christ. Did I sleep through class?"

"No! No, you're good, I'm just–I'm super early, first day on campus, all my classes were remote last year, and because I'm, you know, 'non-traditional', not fresh out of high school, I didn't go through the, uh, standard orientation." 

Real smooth, he thinks. He's rambling. He needs to stop rambling. At least the hot professor standing in front of him is starting to grin instead of rolling his eyes. 

"Anyway, I'm a Bio major but I picked this class because, well–"

"Easy credit?" 

Buck stares in shock, but Dr. Kinard isn't even looking at him; instead he's shuffling back toward his desk, hand reaching for the stack of papers that he was just using as a pillow. 

"What? No way," Buck says, and it comes out a little more forceful than he intends. "No, I read your dissertation. It was really interesting. The, uh, the section about the volcanism in the Quaternary era? Am I saying that right? At first I was just like, woah, this is cool, I didn't know about any of this but then I was looking at the timelines and realizing that the earliest humans were literally walking around getting all, you know, homo-erectus-y while that volcano was spewing! And now people walk around Yellowstone and we just have no idea!"

Dr. Kinard's hand hasn't moved since Buck started talking. He's just… still, leaning over his desk. "You. Hold on. You read my dissertation?"

"Yeah," Buck says. "It was good!"

[wizardnuke]

i think my main issue with writing fiction is truthfully i have an analysis essay brain and don't know how to say things in a manner that isn't insanely clinical but in my defense it also takes a strong heart to explain the whole bertilak+lady bertilak/gawain situation in academia-acceptable terminology. or it was a struggle for me

[enhaven]

look closely | psh (m.)

pairing: sunghoon x reader

genre: smut, angst?, gala!au, idk what they are

word count & rating: 4k | 18+ (minors gtfo)

summary: you've been spending a lot of time with Sunghoon lately so he's not entirely pleased when you showed up with a date after turning down his offer.

warnings/content: jealousy • dirty talk • nipple/breast play, kinda mirror sex? • rough oral sex? (fellatio/deepthroating) • voyeurism? • hair pulling • pain kink lmao, semi-public sex again 😭, phones are being used of course ;)

a/n: ik it was supposed to be hockey!hoon from the poll but this mf posted and i was seeing things smh.

to say Sunghoon was confused is an understatement.

especially when you entered the doors arm in arm with none other than his best friend.

jake? when did this happen?

a series of questions start occupying Sunghoon's mind. at first, he didn't mind you rejecting him when he asked you to be his Valentine's date. maybe it was too much for you, that going to the gala with him might give your schoolmates the wrong idea.

and as always, Sunghoon took it like a man though it did confuse him cause he thought you both were on the same page. he was planning to ask you out if you had said yes but it's probably too early for it.

for you both to be official.

you've been spending a lot of time together since the beginning of the second semester. going on dates, studying together, and fucking each other's brains out for stress relief so Sunghoon thought there was something there but now he thinks that he read everything wrongly.

he's fully aware that you don’t owe him anything but he couldn't help himself feeling a little dumbfounded going alone to this event that your department's hosting. he thought that you'd be alone too but as he watches you and Jake wandering around to find your assigned table, he's lowkey regretting not asking other girls to keep him company instead.

.

you immediately felt Sunghoon's stare as soon as you entered the doors with Jake. rejecting him wasn’t really your intention because you'll gladly be his date for this event. it’s just that everything's becoming too real and confusing when he never even asked you to be his in the first place.

that's why you've been taking your distance.

it was just a simple date for a gala though so it shouldn't have mattered to you nor mean much to Sunghoon. he’d probably have a substitute date after you declined that’s why you said yes to Jake when he asked so you won’t look like a fool just in case you see Sunghoon there with someone else.

you don’t know if Jake knew that his best friend asked you first. with how close they are, surely it should be given that he’ll be aware but the surprise on Sunghoon’s face tells you otherwise.

now you’re utterly fucked.

this could appear as a low blow to Sunghoon since Jake’s his best friend. you should've considered this possibility when you agreed to be Jake's date but it somehow slipped your mind for whatever reason. it must be the desperation in you, considering him as a blessing in disguise when he asked you pretty last minute because you were already debating on not going.

seeing Sunghoon with a date would only ruin your night even if it's your fault. so you really thank the stars that Jake decided to ask you since you're already familiar with each other. besides, he’s a very sweet guy who’s become dear to you after sharing a class with him last semester so why not?

you’ve already acknowledged your stupidity in decision making anyway so might as well go through with it.

to ease up your nerves, you try conversing with Jake as soon as you both sit down, avoiding the pull to look at Sunghoon's way who's standing by the counter. you can see his figure from your peripheral view, wondering why he's still there when everyone is settling in their seats since the program's about to start.

could he be avoiding you and Jake? or is it the many girls crowding him? still taking chances if he'd entertain them since he didn't bring a date.

you’re sure they hounded him as soon as he arrived by himself but he could be waiting for you. to see if you were alone as well based on how he reacted earlier so now the guilt has been eating you up more quickly than you anticipated.

.

Sunghoon should've picked any of those girls to sit by him as he approached your table. watching you flirt with Jake was harder for him than he initially thought.

it riles Sunghoon up that you're being so sweet with Jake, even putting your hands on his chest whether it’s intentionally or not. he couldn’t even blame his best friend cause Jake's natural charm can woo anyone who comes across him.

"hoon, man, where's your date?" his friend turns to him as he’s sitting down on the chair while Sunghoon's gaze remains on you.

"nah i don't need one," he says dismissively, quickly switching his gaze to Jake with an amused smile cause he finds it adorable that you're avoiding his eyes.

he also finds it funny how Jake seems to be clueless about this underlying tension between you two, just like how Sunghoon is with this game you're playing. 

he’s sure that he’s been so obvious but he also knows how dense his best friend could be. honestly, Sunghoon doesn’t really care either way if Jake knows whatever's going on or not. what he wants is to understand you because he couldn’t remember doing something that would have pushed you to go for his best friend instead of him.

if Sunghoon had asked anyone, they’d just tell him to move on since you basically gave your answer but he’s a driven man. plus, the way you're acting around him says enough so he smiles wickedly at himself.

this night should be fun. 

if you really don’t give a fuck about him anymore then you would've acted differently so he'll just let you play around with Jake for now.

.

the program's halfway done when you feel someone's leg nudging yours below the table. without a doubt, it’s Sunghoon’s but you're still refusing to look at him. it'll frustrate him for sure but he surprises you when he casually joins your conversation with Jake. hopefully, your date won't notice that you've been avoiding his best friend.

everything was smooth since Sunghoon was doing the same as you, engaging in normal conversations with the others at your table despite his quiet personality. except, for the nonstop heated gazes he throws your way while his long ass legs nudge yours from time to time, provoking you.

you see, ignorance is usually your forte but not when it comes to Sunghoon and he knows that. it's like he must've sensed that you're about to kick his leg away cause he suddenly gets up, excusing himself to go to the washroom.

you end up hitting the chair instead, causing you to wince lightly and grabbing Jake's attention. his best friend, on the other hand, didn’t care about it nor your glare towards his retreating figure. so instead you turn to a very worried Jake and smile reassuringly at him.

"are you sure? you can just sit down and i'll get the food for you later"

"i am jakey, don't worry" you reach out to hold his shoulder and he calms down, relief now in his eyes as you smile at him. he returns it with an even brighter smile and just then realizes how gorgeous he actually is.

but so is Sunghoon, who by the way, hasn’t come back yet. 

you backtracked cause why was he still lingering in your mind. worrying about him was even worse and it's making you restless no matter how much you shrug them away by talking more to Jake.

when dinner starts, your date rises from his seat to line up for food. he offered once again but you declined, leading for his worry to return. still needing a lot of convincing, you stand up and twirl to show Jake that you’re fine.

"see? totally okay! i'll be back okay?" you nod at him as you walk away, eyes immediately looking for Sunghoon who's nowhere to be found. you ponder his whereabouts cause he could be fucking someone right now like he used to in events like these.

the scenario your mind came up with made you uneasy. no denying on your part that seeing Sunghoon earlier with a bunch of girls made your stomach churn. you might totally lose your appetite if you somehow found him in that compromising situation. yes, it's essentially your fault because none of these feelings would be here had you said yes to him.

.

navigating around the empty halls was fortunately easy despite the intricate design of the place. the whole venue screamed classy and elegant so it took you a bit of time to find the large fancy washroom located on the upper floor because you were fawning over the interiors.

it's where you suspect Sunghoon would be instead of the ones downstairs that are usually packed with people. he's the type to find places where no one usually goes, preferring peace amid any form of ruckus.

and you were right, instantly spotting him leaning by the edge of the black marble counter with one hand in his pockets.

"took you long enough" he scoffs, looking up to you from his phone. he looks annoyed as he places it beside him but he proceeds to do you a one over that definitely didn't make you wet now that you're also taking his whole fit at once.

all formal in black with that signature hair of his that you really love.

"well thanks to you" you reply drily, recovering from that small relapse with your annoyance bubbling back to the surface. he must’ve thought it’s directed to him when you’re actually mad at yourself but you’ll let him think that way.

it's fun and this is how you usually talk anyway, bickering and teasing which you surely missed when things got awkward between you since that day.

"me? you're the one who's all over Jake" he huffs, shooting you a glare that you found amusing. he does look cute whenever he’s sulking, especially when he gets jealous although he masks it with indifference each time you call him out on it.

"he's my date hoon" you deadpan, stating the obvious which irks Sunghoon even more but he notices the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“why are you with him?” he starts, trying to sound nonchalant as he leans back. it might be hopeless and he shouldn't care this much but Sunghoon just wants to know the very reason he's alone in this gala.

“why can’t i be with jake?”

he was gonna tell you why if his ears didn't catch the teasing lilt in your tone the more you step closer to him. “isn’t he your best friend hoonie?” you add when he didn't answer, noticing his thick brows scrunching as he adjusts his gold bangle bracelets.

so you are doing it on purpose, staring him down right now with those beautiful eyes and playful smile like you didn’t break his heart weeks ago. he may acted like he was expecting you earlier but you pretty much didn’t care so he's still unsure why you followed him here when Jake's probably out there waiting for you.

maybe Sunghoon was wrong. well, he had been clearly assuming a lot of things so who knows. this could just be his inner desire hoping that you still want him.

“he is, but it doesn’t mean that i’ll share you with him” you're startled when Sunghoon grabs your waist as soon as his arms can reach you. he pulls you closer to him before burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

one of your hands grasps his hair as a reflex, the other gripping his shoulders as you try to come up with a response. it's a bit hard when you can feel his breath fanning against your skin but he holds you for a bit, waiting for you to stop him.

when you didn’t, his lips touched your skin and began leaving kisses around your exposed collarbones. and since Sunghoon's been very familiar with your sensitive spots, he finds your weakest spot in the neck right away, coaxing a needy whimper from you.

“i-i’m not yours hoon” you're struggling to reply when you feel Sunghoon's smile but you love how eager he's been. aside from missing him in general, you’re deprived of his touch too since the last time you were in this position was the day you turned him down.

"no? but this one’s mine right?” both his hands move down and grab a handful of your ass, earning a surprise gasp from you. they're pretty quick too that you didn't even realize Sunghoon's pulled down your dress' plunging neckline, freeing your tits right in front of his face.

he eyes them hungrily as a hand of his stays on holding the hem, embarrassment flooding you as a result though he’s seen your bare body several times already. 

in all honesty, Sunghoon would’ve found your flower shaped pasties adorable if the circumstances were different. he teases you nonstop about them cause he secretly loves it when you wear them instead of bras, easy access each time he touches you.

despite how much he missed you, he's still pissed so he peels them off a bit harshly, eager to taste your perked nipples but he finds it absurd that you're shying away from him.

the audacity of you to come here then.

instead of putting your pasties aside, he keeps them in his pockets and you’re about to protest when his large hands are on your bare tits at once, fondling them briefly before he latches his mouth on one of them.

"h-hoon—" a loud moan slips from your lips when his tongue starts flickering your nipple, leading you to grab his hair again and push his face further on your chest. 

he occasionally bites a nipple as his palm gropes your breast, rendering you speechless at how it feels. you keep arching your back so Sunghoon's other hand returns to gripping your hips steadily.

looking down, you see Sunghoon's playfully making suctions while sucking your tits. it's his way of teasing you as he alternates on sucking both your breasts with his eyes closed, allowing your eyes to fixate on the mole in his nose that you adore.

with your breathing getting heavier every minute, suppressing your giggles has also been difficult each time his hair brushes your skin.

"hoon please.." you didn't plan on begging him but he's just too good at finding what makes you weak. watching his wet tongue and sharp canines graze your nubs didn't help either, heightening the sensation throughout your body so you couldn't help it.

but Sunghoon's a tease so you should've expected him to release your nipples with a pop after hearing your plea. with a taunting grin.

"now you're begging" he snickers, knowing exactly what you want from him. you pay no mind to it, brain’s all muddled currently at watching him lick his lower lips, eyes zeroing in on his saliva disconnecting from your buds.

you turn mute at that, not knowing how to respond to Sunghoon. the usual witty response to counter him’s nowhere to be found. all you can think of is finding ways to return to his good graces so you relent.

“yeah i am” you say quietly which surprises Sunghoon. you’re never the type to beg so he presumes that it's because you’re probably feeling guilty.

that’s why you’re here.

not really to see him but just to make him feel better.

it must be it so he proceeds to stare you down, contemplating if he’ll give you what you want. of course, Sunghoon would want to but he couldn’t possibly let you get away with this stunt you’re pulling tonight.

your exposed wet stricken breasts cause you to shiver while doing your best to maintain Sunghoon's gaze. he's making you wait too long so you softly squeeze his padded shoulders for an answer, watching his face morph back into being smug.

but before Sunghoon can even respond, you drop to your knees and look up at him with pleading eyes. he curses in his head trying to not give in right there. he's gotta keep his hardened exterior cause it's not often you’re this desperate hence why it’s one of his favourites.

“want my dick?” he teases, the familiar sly grin now plastered on his lips. you nuzzle against his clothed thigh as an answer and Sunghoon couldn’t help himself to reach out and caress your cheek.

he sees your hand reaching out and he takes it, allowing you to feel him over. then your hand fumbles to unbutton Sunghoon’s suit blazer, revealing his lean body that compliments his muscled arms.

he's fucking hot with this alone, given your kneeling position and you can't wait to finally make up to him now that he's letting you.

you're still a bit sus though that Sunghoon's making everything so easy.

he must've had other plans so you quickly pull down his pants and boxers, to have his cock in your mouth. you didn't get to though, his ringed fingers threading right through your scalp to stop you. a surprise whine and frustrating sigh escapes you but Sunghoon's enjoying seeing you like this.

“hoonie..” you coo, trying to look more deflated so he’ll release you. your earlier hunch was right and now little whore in you is excited to have his punishments again. 

you eye his cock, so angry already with the precum coated tip that you’d do anything to taste it again but Sunghoon’s firm grip on your hair reminded you of what you did.

a pout graces your lips, surely he already knows what you’ve been missing. it’s been about a week or two since the last time you fooled around with Sunghoon, the same day you rejected him.

he stares at you intently without saying a word, seemingly unimpressed with your current way of begging. you're getting conscious again, mind scrambling on what else to do to convince him but you can't think of any.

but there's one thing you both have in common, impatience. you see it in the way he grabs his dick to tease your lips with it, running the tip across the edge of your lips. your tongue darts out in hopes of catching it but he suddenly slaps it against your cheek, causing you to pathetically whine against his clothed thigh.

“suddenly this desperate? then why’d you say yes to him?” 

“i…”

you ran out of excuses just because you didn’t want to tell Sunghoon the truth. you’re not sure if he’s aware or which part of the truth he knows. if he does then it wouldn’t be a surprise. he can read you like an open book that’s why avoiding him earlier ended up being pointless.

it’s also why Sunghoon releases his grip on your hair a bit, allowing you to take his cock in your mouth. he misses the warmth your mouth is around him, the eager look in your eyes as you keep bobbing your head to please him.

well, it’s not enough. even for you, cause now he sees that familiar glint in your eyes when you want something more.

his hand didn’t leave your hair the entire time and excitement rush through you as soon as you watch him shift his stance, believing he’ll start fucking your throat.

but Sunghoon doesn't, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

instead, he pushed your head further down his cock, causing you to gag with the sudden movement. good thing you have amazing reflexes, hollowing your cheeks and breathing through your nose as you try to maintain eye contact.

you’re struggling when Sunghoon bunches up your hair and gives it a hard pull.

"did you really think i'd give you what you want?" he taunts, chuckling darkly as you moan around his length, the vibrations turning his laugh into a deep groan.

he would've let you with those begging eyes. he loves the desperation in them, making it one of his weaknesses. there's nothing he wants more than to fuck your throat but he can't give in that easy.

your head game's unmatched and it almost made him forget why you're here until he sees you slow your pace, intentionally taking him deeper until his tip nudges the back of your throat.

his hand returns pulling your hair, to the side this time as he picks up the phone beside him. it stings but you don't mind, letting Sunghoon control the pace of your sucking however he wants.

"so cock hungry, aren't you?" he grits his teeth, followed by a deep grunt.

he's being mean but you don't mind, nodding while your sole focus is running your tongue through the underside of his dick. to hear more of his deep grunts, now that he's mindlessly moving his hips slowly.

already anticipating it, you close your eyes to avoid the flash from Sunghoon's phone. if it'll make him forgive you then so be it.

you're not too concerned right now other than to make sure he finishes in your mouth. it boosts your ego, how you must've been doing so good for him to record you like this.

which suddenly ceased as soon as he releases your hair, his cock slipping out your drooling mouth.

"hoon?" you query, voice a bit confused as to why he's stopping you when you sense that he's close. 

"get up" he spits and you obey, a bit disappointed when you see him putting his very hard length back in his pants.

before you can protest, Sunghoon flips you around and pulls you against him. now you're both facing the other mirror in front of you while you're on his lap.

you watch Sunghoon resumes what he was doing before you begged to suck him off. he's kissing your shoulders and upper back this time, ringed hands fondling your tits again and it's increasing your desperation. you can feel how hard he is under you so you start grinding on him out of frustration, hoping he'll finally fuck you.

"w-what do you want hoonie hmm? if you d-don't wanna fuck here then.." you gasp, stammering each word as his groping becomes rougher. "we can go back to dinner then leave after..oh fuck.." you throw your head back when pinches your sensitive nipples, grabbing a handful of his hair behind you.

"pretty sure it's over by now.." he drawls after suddenly releasing you, feeling his breath against your skin as his hands move down to guide your hips. you've been watching him through the mirror this time, looking unfazed while ignoring your words.

"but you still want dessert, right jake?" he adds, shifting his eyes to someone in the corner.

realization washed over you even before following Sunghoon's eyes after hearing the name. there in the corner of the room, you see Jake standing and clutching his phone in one hand while holding the door with widened eyes.

"i was wondering where you are.." his voice echoes, eyes trained on both you and his best friend. you have no idea how long Jake's been standing there, if he saw the whole thing or what. you were too busy focusing on anything else aside from his best friend.

and if he meant you or Sunghoon he didn't specify.

you both should've stopped but his best friend has no intention of, continuing to play with you as if Jake's not there. this tells you exactly how Jake found you both. the way he wasn't entirely surprised at what welcomed him, eyes raking your half-naked form which causes you to squirm against Sunghoon's lap.

Jake looks a bit nervous but there's a slight eagerness swimming in his eyes. you wonder if this is the first time Sunghoon did this, sending him lewd videos or pictures which you honestly find kinda hot. you keep grinding against Sunghoon's cock while watching Jake's gaze fixed on your tits which Sunghoon continues to fondle, earning more needy whines from you.

"figured that he's looking for us.." Sunghoon says wryly as he stops your hips from moving, his unbothered face turning to his best friend like this is just a common scenario between them. you watch Jake gulp nervously, slowly sinking in the implication of Sunghoon's words.

you heard it clearly, his tone alone suggesting that this night's far from over.

not until he's satisfied with your apology now that you have an audience.

e/n: now let's ignore that this was supposed to be for Valentine's but i ain't gonna wait for next year to post this to be on the right season 😭

[lowkeyhollland]

bed chem

peter parker x reader you & peter are roommates, but the absolute complete opposite of each other. or are you? chapter one <- chapter 2

It had been a week and a half since your encounter with New York’s friendly neighborhood hero. Spider-Man wasn’t really on your mind as much as classes had started and you already felt like there was so much to start on. You had also convinced yourself it was just a dream and decided not to tell the rest of your friends. 

Knowing you wouldn’t get anything done at home, you ended up at a coffee shop on campus to start on some assignments due this weekend. Though it was never like this before college, the idea of going out on the weekend is what made you stay on top of everything. It might not be the healthiest motivation, but hey, it was something. Music was blaring in your ears as you tuned out the sounds of the rest of the world, allowing the chaos of others around you to create pressure to stay on task, as anyone could see if you were off track. 

There was a shadow looming over you that made you pause your music, only to be met face-to-face with your roommate. 

“When did you get here?” It came out more rude than you intended, but you were locked in. 

“I said hi to you like ten minutes ago, got my drink, and came back. If you want to be alone that’s fine! Sorry, I tried to ask but—“Peter rambled on and on but you put a hand up to stop him. 

“No! No, it’s chill,” you reassured him. “Sorry, I get pretty passionate about color-coding my calendar.” Peter softly chuckled at the rainbow of pens scattered around the table as you gestured to your planner. 

“Surprised you’re already working so hard this early into the semester.”

“Appreciate it while it lasts. this is how I am for maybe the first month and then burnout happens before Thanksgiving break and then I lock back in by finals.” Peter couldn’t help himself but laugh again. You smiled, admiring the crinkles by his eyes when he laughed and how his brown eyes lit up— in a friendly manner, admiring him, that is. 

“So, you going home soon?” It was strange to hear Peter ask if you were going home, knowing he was referring to your shared apartment. You loved having him as a roommate, but it was still so fresh & sometimes he still felt like a stranger. 

“Yeah, probably. It’s Friday and knowing my friends, we’re gonna hit up the frats or something.” 

“Seems fun. Wanna walk back together?” You nodded and started to pack up your things before exiting the cafè. 

“You should come out with us one night,” you suggested. The brunette boy shook his head with a smile. 

“I don’t think the frats would like me showing up. Plus I’m not really the ‘going out’ type.” You didn’t respond, instead nodded along. 

Within the first few weeks of living with you, Peter had noticed you’re more of the quiet type. Despite having opposite lifestyles, the two of you were similar in other ways; very reserved when speaking about life or allowing the comfortability of silence to take over. It was never awkward between you two, well maybe the first week, but it was just how he liked it later on— comfortable. Though, that never stops him from questioning what your life was really like. 

-

You knew it was wrong but, hell, it felt so right. Your hands found their way up to the mop of curly blonde hair as you kissed him. The lights were flashing and music was blaring as your bodies moved together in sync, but it didn’t stop you from being in this moment with him. 

“Wanna take this upstairs?” He whispered into your ear sending chills down your spine. You nodded as he took your hand and led you through the crowd up to his room. 

This wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him, more like seven months with him, but not truly with him. It was almost like a routine between the two of you on nights like these; you show up at his frat, he saves the best drinks for you and your friends, and you always somehow end up tangled in him. It’s not your proudest moment every time his hands are roaming your body, making it seem like he wants you, but sometimes, it just feels so good. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned as he threw you onto his bed, not taking another minute to reconnect his lips with yours. All you did was hum in agreement. “Look so good in that skirt,” he mumbled against your collarbone. Just as his hand was inching up your inner thigh, a phone started ringing. 

“Shit— Nate, I’m so sorry. Just give me one sec,” you pulled away from him and he rolled onto the bed and laid down next to you as you answered the call. He left wet kisses on your inner thigh and you played with his hair while talking to your friend. After the call, you threw your phone onto the bed and laid back, allowing the pillows to engulf you. 

“Everything alright?” He asked, his voice tender. 

“I gotta go— Madi’s fucked up.” Nate pouted and tried to kiss you to stay, but you shook your head and pushed him away. “I’m so drunk that if you do that I might actually stay.”

“Maybe that’s the plan,” he nuzzled his head into your neck & wrapped his arms around your waist. It was moments like this that made you want to stay around, that made every memory between the two of you worth it despite the loneliness you felt around him. “Hey, take one more shot with me? Before you go?” He took out a bottle of soju. you playfully rolled your eyes before taking the bottle from him. 

“You know I can’t say no to this shit,” you giggled as you took a swig from it. 

“We still on for Monday?” Nate asked. butterflies erupted in your stomach as they always do when you get to see him outside of a party setting. 

“Yeah! Wait, what’s Monday again?” Your words slurred together as you stared into his green eyes. 

“I need help on a paper.” Those butterflies died in your stomach.

“Right… yeah. Just text me,” You gathered your things and tied your converse. He slipped off the bed and grabbed your face, kissing you one last time. 

“I’ll see ya.” That was all Nate said. 

Those three words haunted you on the way back to everyone’s apartments. There was no sympathy for your friends or concern if you would get home safe. You felt that last shot of soju really hit as you stumbled into your apartment. Mumbling a few curse words, you hoped & prayed you didn’t wake up Peter. 

Not having the energy, you kicked off your sneakers and fell onto your bed, telling yourself you’ll get ready to sleep soon. The world was still spinning even when you closed your eyes to let the darkness take over. You started to think about everything between you and Nate, if there would ever be you and him. 

Tap, tap, tap

Your eyebrows furrowed together, but you brushed off the sound, assuming it was just your drunken state of mind. The tapping got louder and it was starting to give you a headache. Giving in to the noises, you slowly got up and turned towards the window.

“Spider-man?!” You almost yelled in shock.

“Hey…”

chapter one <-

[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.

[qprstobin]

Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

[traumxrei-archive]

【 epilogue : winter’s aftermath 】

summary tags: the end of winter break (+ this series), pov: everyone’s reactions to leonayuu being leonayuu, ruggie is having a great time, jack doesn’t get it, crowley's sobbing, grim expects more fancy tuna, and cheka’s just a sweetheart <33

word count: 3.6k

author’s note: here’s the epilogue ^^ i hope that you enjoy the last fluffy bits of this series, and happy birthday to leona kingscholar <33

[ baby it’s cold outside series | read on ao3 ]

i. ruggie and jack

The days that preluded the end of winter break was filled with hustle and bustle. Many of NRC’s students were frantically packing last minute, and saying heartfelt goodbyes to their families as the new semester approached.

Ruggie, for one, was trying to figure out how he was going to lug all of his luggage back to Savanaclaw. His Bibi meant well, but she could be a bit of a worrywart. What started out as a few herbal medicine ingredients soon turned into many, and she insisted that he should share with his friends if they ever needed it.

“I doubt that they’d drink any of that stuff I give them, Bibi,” Ruggie said, casting a levitation spell over his luggage and stringing it down main street.

“Ruggie-senpai!” Jack called out. He was decked out in full winter gear, a messily knitted scarf wrapped around his neck. Ruggie snorted, waiting for his junior to catch up.

“You just got back?” Ruggie asked, tugging at the end of Jack’s scarf. “And what’s this?”

“Oh, uh,” Jack’s ears twitched, clearly embarrassed. “My sister made it for me. It’s actually pretty warm. Have you gone to visit Leona-senpai yet?”

“Nope,” He popped the ‘p’, shedding his jacket as they entered the Savanaclaw mirror. “I am not looking forward to how messy his room is gonna be.”

Jack unwrapped his scarf, gently placing it in his bag, “Yuu told me that they were doing Leona a favor or something, so maybe it’ll be okay.”

Ruggie blinked. Yuu and Leona spending winter together…? Well if that didn’t sound like a recipe for disaster, then he didn’t know what would. He quickly dumped his bags in his room, taking the quickest route to Leona’s room.

“Are you worried?” Jack asked, having followed behind him.

“About Yuu-kun more than anything,” Ruggie muttered as he reached for the door. “You know how Leona-san can be sometimes.”

The door creaked open, and the two were greeted with…Leona sitting on the couch while Yuu was mid-stride seemingly pacing around the room.

“Oh, hi,” Yuu greeted. Their posture betrayed their awkwardness more than anything that was actually was going on.

“Hi Yuu,” Jack said, leaning against the doorway. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I, uh,” They glanced down at Leona, who raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Leona tried to cheat his way out of doing one of the worksheets so I came back to scold him.” And that was when Ruggie noticed something off.

He glanced around the room. It was…neat. Neater than he had seen it for ages. Heck, even the bed was nicely made. And in the corner he spotted what looked like Yuu’s bag sitting right in front of Leona’s closet. Not to mention…

“C’mon, herbivore,” Leona drawled, spinning the pen in his hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over a single worksheet.” Leona didn’t look the slightest bit annoyed at being up early with a worksheet right in front of him. Instead, he was just focused on them, barely looking over at him or Jack.

“Leona-senpai, Yuu’s heating and cooling depends on this,” Jack said, and Ruggie could see the twitch of Leona’s brow clear as day. Uh oh. “Cut them some slack.”

Something had changed. Ruggie could hazard a guess, but he did not want to stick around and face the wrath of Leona’s anger this early in the morning.

“Listen here, pup,” Leona said, irritation in his tone. “Winter break ends in two days. I’ll get it done by then.” Jack, on the other hand, seemed confused at the sudden hostility.

That was when Yuu stepped in, "You said you'd finish early so we could go to the botanical garden." Miraculously, Leona leaned back, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"Everything's too loud today," The gripe was halfhearted, and Ruggie's jaw could've dislocated from how low it was dropping. The Leona Kingscholar...calming down just like that?

Yuu carefully sat down beside him, "Then why don't we go to Ramshackle, your Highness?"

"Don't call me that," Leona huffed, though Ruggie didn't miss the way his tail instantly wrapped around their leg.

"You said you liked it," They teased, before turning to them again. "How was you guys' winter breaks?”

Leona seemed to frown as they started conversing with Jack. And Ruggie..well, he prided himself on being able to read the room, so he very promptly turned around, shoving Jack out of the room.

"Wh– Ruggie-senpai–"

"Ah, sorry, Yuu-kun!" Ruggie called out. "I forgot I have something to do with Jack-kun, talk to you next time!” Jack didn’t know just how close he was to getting sent to do lap.

And Ruggie couldn’t bite back the grin on his face either. Now he had a cheat card to dealing with Leona’s bullshit. He made a mental note to give Yuu some of the herbal medicine that his Bibi gave him, because Seven knows that they would need it.

ii. crowley

Crowley was having quite the headache of a day. It came with running the school single-handedly, he supposed, and he almost mourned the loss of sandy beaches and the cold drinks that he had savored just the day before.

Alas the show must go on. He was the illustrious headmage of NRC after all!

And he was on a mission to find his favorite student. He wasn’t supposed to play favorites, but he found himself particularly endeared to the Ramshackle Prefect, Yuu. They were a good kid, better than the other troublemakers at the college.

So he often found ways to give them things, such as the phone that he conveniently gave them before winter break. (For communication purposes only. Definitely not because he was worried or anything.) Or the task he gave them before winter started. (He knew how dreary Ramshackle got, so the school’s heath would give them the warmth they needed.)

“Ah, there you are!” He exclaimed, finally finding Yuu amongst the shelves at Sam’s Store. “I was looking everywhere for you, Prefect!”

Yuu was dressed well for the cold weather, and he could see they were wearing the gifts that the other staff members gave them, “Headmage. How was your vacation?”

“Oh, it was wonderful, the beaches were— wait that’s not what I’m here for!” Crowley coughed into his hand, a bit flustered. They were the only student out here that was polite enough to ask him such questions. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the completion of your tasks! The fairies were buzzing about your timeliness.”

“Oh, uhm,” They awkwardly shuffled around the snacks in their arms. They always got like that when he complimented them a bit too eagerly. “Thanks I guess. And our heating and cooling?”

“Oh,” Crowley blinked, remembering the empty words he spouted before winter break. He didn’t think they would really take it to heart. “The fairies are more than happy to help out to make Ramshackle more hospitable, so I shall send them over soon. And you’ve outdone yourself with your other task, so don’t hesitate to ask for something else.”

“Hey, hey! Little imp and Crowley!” Sam greeted, ever the jovial. “What an interesting combo! Crowley, did you finally get them your gift?”

“Gift?” They asked, staring with what Crowley would say was just a little bit of hope. Argh. His conscience was hurt.

“I should have given this to you before winter but,” Crowley laughed nervously. “I was just…so busy with the mirror business—“

“Crowley was wailing to us in the teacher’s chat about how ‘his child would freeze without his gift’ and what not,” Sam said conspiratorially.

“I-I was not!” Crowley sputtered, finally pulling out the small gift. “There. Please use it well.”

Yuu opened the small box, a smile spliting on their face, “Are these…socks?” They were, indeed, socks. Not just any socks, the best thermal socks on the market. With the NRC logo on it. But they didn’t need to know that part.

“Yes, well, a good pair of socks goes a long way!”

Yuu laughed, “You’re right. Thank you, Headmage.”

“I-It was the least I could do. And Sam, I was simply congratulating Yuu-kun on a job well done,” Crowley tapped his cane on the ground, trying not to be too proud that Yuu liked his gift. “They managed to get Kingscholar-kun to finish all his worksheets for this winter break.”

Sam blinked, “That’s a magnificent feat! What kinda black magic did ya use on Kingscholar?”

“Yeah, herbivore, what kind of magic did you use to persuade me to do schoolwork?” The group immediately startled, watching as Leona leisurely walked over, slinging an arm over their shoulder.

Yuu seemed to fluster, “I…we just exchanged favors. That’s all.”

“Hmm,” Sam hummed, a grin on his face. “My friend from the other side is telling me something interesting happened over the break.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes as Leona smirked, “W-Wait a minute! Kingscholar-kun! What did you do to the Prefect?” Nothing good could come out of Leona Kingscholar looking so…so triumphant!

“I didn’t do anything,” Leona said coyly. “If anything it was Yuu who suddenly—“

“Okay, enough,” Yuu interrupted, tugging Leona out of the store. And the weird thing was Leona easily followed. “Me and Leona have something to discuss. See you two later!”

As they hurried away, it finally dawned on Crowley.

He pointed a half crooked finger toward the exit, “Are they…dating?”

“Seems so to me,” Sam snickered. “I think they make a cute couple.”

No…Crowley couldn’t accept it. There’s no way his beloved child was dating Leona Kingscholar. There was no one in NRC that Crowley could wholeheartedly approve of dating Yuu. Especially not Leona. Not on his watch.

“That— Kingscholar!”

iii. grim

Grim wasn't stupid. He wasn't into complicated stuff like classes, but he sure noticed the new development that had happened over winter break.

Leona Kingscholar, the scary– ahem, lazy beastman from Savanaclaw...was always with his henchman nowadays. When they had alchemy homework, he was always there in a labcoat next to them. When they studied in the library, he was dozing beside them. And especially during meal times like this! He helped himself to the food that they cooked. And the worst part was the fact that the henchman didn’t seem to mind.

It was to the point that it was worrying, because his henchman was his! Their one and only boss was him, Grim the Great, after all!

But it seemed that Leona was trying to steal his henchman away from him.

Grim narrowed his eyes as the henchman left to grab some water, "Hey. Why are you trying to steal my henchman from me?"

"Hah?" Leona glanced at him before takong another bite out of his lamb chops. "Who's stealing from who?"

"I mean!" Grim stood up on his chair. "You're always around them these days, yanno!"

Leona scoffed, but he seemed to consider his words before finally speaking, "How 'bout a truce, furball? They stay your henchman and they're my herbivore. Deal?"

Well. First of all, Grim wanted to take offense at being called furball. It was clearly an insult to his (very cute) and intimidating fire ears.

But that...

"Hmph. Fine," Grim pointed his paw toward Leona's plate. "But I want one of those!"

Leona grinned, tossing a lamb chop onto Grim's plate, "Pleasure doing business with you."

As Grim chewed on the lamb chop, the henchman returned, two glasses of water in their hands, "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothin'" 

"Nothing."

The beastman and monster stared at each other for a moment before going back to their food. Grim kept an eye on Leona, who was being more touchy than usual. He kept poking the henchman and the henchman looked...

That was when Grim remembered Ace being all gross and talking about his past dating escapades. And that was when it clicked.

"Henchman," Grim glanced between the two with hesitation. "Are you two...dating?"

Yuu choked on their bread, and Leona wordlessly handed them his water.

"Yeah," Leona stated, rubbing their back lightly. "Why?"

"Nothin'! It's just," Blue eyes scanned Yuu, before thinking back to the many people at NRC who definitely expressed interest in them. "Henchman, I think ya could've done better, yanno?"

Leona's eyes narrowed, "You little–"

And that was how Grim spent some time running away from the beastman who chased him around Ramshackle. Meanwhile the ghosts were congratulating a still-shellshocked Yuu, so Grim's yells for help went unanswered. At least he got a lamb chop out of the whole ordeal.

iv. leona 

It was official. Maybe Leona was finally starting understanding where Falena was coming from when he gushed over his queen. Leona himself could barely keep himself from thinking about Yuu once every few minutes.

It would be embarrassing to admit just how many times he had been distracted enough that his gaze kept drifting toward Yuu.

Yuu who was comfortably nestled against him, scrolling on their phone. He wrapped an arm around their waist, nuzzling into the plane of their back.

"What's this about?" They asked, their hand patting his own.

"Nothing," He said, his voice muffled as he felt their heat seeping into his fingers.

His thoughts couldn't help but drift back to their conversation that fateful day.

And until that moment Leona had never realized how similar they were. Their words were a mirror of his own, down to the talk of the word ‘deserve’.

He spent his life being a slave to that word. 'I deserve to be king.' 'I deserve to be the dormleader.' 'I deserve to win in the magift tournament.’

All the thoughts of 'deserve' in his life never led anywhere useful. Did he ever want to be king, or was it just the words of others around him that filled him with such hatred for his own existence that the throne was the only thing that he thought would fix it?

If he truly wanted something he should fight for it. And if he lost, and still wanted it, then he would try again. That was what he understood now. And that was what lead him to Yuu.

It still wasn't fully resolved. Leona still had his doubts on whether he could truly care for them properly. And he sure as hell hadn't figured out just what got Yuu to have such a warped perception of him. But… 

His arms tightened around them. It was something that they could figure out at a later date. For now, he would settle for the way their heart rate seemed to spike as he softly stroked their stomach.

He pressed a kiss against their shoulder, “Why’s your heart rate going up?”

“Ugh,” They sighed. “I hate that you can hear that.”

“Why’s that herbivore?” Leona’s hand drifted, until he could swipe the hair away from their nape. He learned that they were especially reactive when he kissed their neck. He pressed his lips against their skin, smirking as he heard their heart rate speed up, “Kinda cute that you do that.”

Yuu shifted until they were facing him, a frown on their face, “If you want to kiss me, you should just ask Leona.”

“You were busy,” He murmured, though he didn’t hesitate to close the gap of space between them.

“If you asked me to, I would’ve put down my phone earlier,” They said, their breaths sounding a bit short as Leona’s nose brushed against theirs.

“You’re so in love with me, aren’t you?” Leona drawled, suppressing a laugh at their expression.

Instead of saying anything, they leaned forward and pecked his lips. Something must’ve shown on his face, because they grinned, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

And then Leona couldn’t hold it any longer. He leaned in, their arms readily wrapping around him as they kissed. Leona couldn’t hide his impatience as he licked into their mouth, the startled noise they made turning his rationality into mush. He never thought he would ever have such greed for another person before. But this… Their hand that was buried in his hair tightened and he tilted his head further, their noses brushing when—

BRIIING—!

Leona flinched back at the obnoxious ringtone. He could see Yuu trying to catch their breath, blinking a few times to gather their bearings. Did he really have to answer the phone?

“Answer it,” They said gently. He pecked their cheek before pulling back. He found his phone on the table, the name flashing on the screen making him roll his eyes.

Meddlesome Falena

He looked over his shoulder, “It’s Cheka. Are you ready yet?” They raked their hand through their hair, the strands falling messily around their face as they gave him a thumbs up. Dammit…they were unfairly pretty at times.

And as Leona internally cursed, he pressed the 'answer call’ button.

v. cheka (+ family)

“Hello? Hello! Papa, I can’t see Ojitan, I can only see black!” The cheerful voice that rang out made Yuu chuckle slightly.

Leona seemed to hesitate before opening the camera, “That’s because I haven’t opened my camera yet, brat.”

“OJITAN!” The squeal that Cheka let out was quite frankly earshattering. They winced before moving into frame. “Oh! Huh? Yuu-tan! Yuu-tan’s here too!”

They answered Cheka’s enthusiastic waves with a greeting of their own, “Good to see you too, little lion.”

“How come Yuu-tan is here already?” Cheka wasn’t the best camera man. They were getting a very interesting angle of Cheka’s chin and shoulder. 

“Uh…” Yuu trailed off, glancing at Leona.

“Who cares?” Leona grumbled. “Why did you call?”

But Cheka didn’t seem interested in knowing anymore, “Papa! Look, Yuu-tan’s here too.” Yuu immediately straightened their posture, while Leona took this time to yawn.

“Alright, alright,” They could see the camera shake before light flooded the screen. Falena was now proping the camera up, a colorful tapestry behind him as he held Cheka in his lap. “Hello brother. And Yuu-san too! This is perfect, hold on a second—“

“Papa’s calling Mama over,” Cheka helpfully added as Falena turned to talk to someone off camera. “Mama was very interested in what we did.”

“Tch,” Leona said, looking like he swallowed a particularly bitter medicine. Maybe he didn’t have the best relationship with his sister…?

“Do you not like the queen?” Yuu asked quietly.

“No,” Leona answered, albeit a bit reluctantly. "If she went asking that means that she already figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

Leona leaned against their shoulder, “Wait and see.”

They gulped as another figure entered the camera’s view. An intimidating beastwoman traditional garb swathing her in colorful fabrics. She was a lioness beastman, they noted, matching Falena almost perfectly in her regal appearance. For a moment there was silence across the line.

And then a smile cracked on her face, “So. Who was the one who confessed first?” What? Falena seemed to echo their sentiment, his expression shifting from confused to realization to shock.

While Yuu was still in shock, Leona volunteered a hand, “I did.”

They sputtered, “You— You proposed at first.”

“Hmm… You were braver than Falena, then,” She tilted a head toward her husband. “It took him a whole three years to actually propose.”

“Oh gods above,” Falena muttered, still out of his mind. “Leona’s engaged? He…my baby brother…” It seemed that it didn’t take much for Falena to be shocked.

“We’re dating. Da-ting,” Leona emphasized each syllable like he was talking to a child. “The proposal was a gimmick.”

Now Yuu snorted, “You seemed to be seriously considering it before.”

“Yay!” The loud shout disturbed the calm atmosphere. It was clear that they had all forgotten that Cheka was in attendance. He swung his arms around, pumping his tiny fists in the air, “Yuu-tan and Ojitan are getting married!”

“Uh…Cheka,” Falena said tentatively. “That’s not—“

“Well before that, they would need to visit the Savanna, right, m’toto?” The queen seemed to be seriously thinking about it. Wasn’t it…a bit fast? “I for one, would like to get to know you first.”

Cheka seemed to agree, nodding furiously, “I’m gonna take Yuu-tan to all my favorite spots!” 

“Wait, we’re not actually engaged,” Yuu laughed nervously. This development was not what they were anticipating. How were they supposed to know that the Queen would be this interested in Leona’s partner?

But Leona didn’t seem phased, “I’ll bring them the next time we have vacation.”

“Leona??” They glanced at their boyfriend before looking at the screen. “Why are you going along with this?”

“Cuz,” Leona grinned at them mischievously. “We can’t have you running away from me, can we?”

“Yup!” Cheka chimed in. “Yuu-tan’s family now!”

Yuu had a feeling that they didn’t quite understand what they were getting into when they dated Leona. And now they were suffering the consequences. But well…

A vacation in Sunset Savanna didn’t sound bad. Plus they would be sponsored by the Royal Family, and they could bring Grim along. And Leona would be there.

It was a fitting end, perhaps. They started this vacation wondering about families, having not remembered their own. And it seemed now that winter was over, they were heading into spring with a brand new family.

Their friends. Crowley and the teachers. And now Leona and Cheka.

Maybe this family they had gathered wasn’t such a bad thing afterall. Yuu squeezed at Leona's hand lightly. And Leona nudged them with his elbow in return, giving them a smirk.

It was a fitting end indeed.

and…that’s a wrap !! congratulations for getting to the end of the baby it’s cold outside series !!

it’s kind of a bittersweet thing when things end, but i decided to look at it in a positive way, because finally leonayuu's story is out there for everyone to enjoy ^^

(plus, i guess now everyone can look forward to the other leonayuu brainrot fics i’ve written >:D)

thank you for reading until this far, and i hope that you’ve enjoyed your journey :> if you’d like to read more of my writing, please check out my masterlist <3

[ prev chapter | series post ]

[werewolfoffeverswamp]

tbh i dont know if i’ve ever made a single piece of art i actually like in an academic setting. they’re always haphazardly done last minute and the subject matter is always so. hm. it’s a little boring. the only times i think i’ve come close to making something i was proud of in school is when i was pushed to my mental breaking point and i just started fucking doing whatever i wanted. so today i’m rating them

in my sophomore year i was in sculpture class and had to make a smooth plaster sculpture. the amount of manual labor required to sand down a sculpture that had to be at least 3 feet in some direction is not something i wanted to deal with. as you can see my sculpture is not smooth. the design i was happy with— the sculpture itself i was not.

it was titled “Mistakes” or something along those lines. my classmates stood up for me in critique when my professor said it was lazy and unfinished. not one of my peers said a bad thing about it. we smashed the sculptures apart behind the building when critique was over. i still want to cry when i think about it, it was an extremely special experience for me.

10/10 i actually wish i still had it and i have been meaning to make a tiny version out of clay. such a special piece to me, very formative

this piece was made at the end of my college career when i first started testosterone. i wanted to make some sort of tribute to it for my final piece— i’m of an extremely divided mind when i think about it. there are parts that look clunky and not developed properly… thrown together, as i believe my professor Jason said. i am, however, happy with certain technical aspects of the piece! the formation and shading of the hand and the syringe is something i really like, and did a lot of layering to achieve. i used a paper cutout to make the repeated syringes on the bottom left, another new technique i tried and was happy with the results of.

the text WAS thrown on last minute in an effort to spice up the piece but it’s a reference to the song Crosseyed and Painless by Talking Heads. it’s a song i’ve always identified with in a gender way, with the first few lines being “Lost my shape, trying to act casual./Can’t stop, I might end up in the hospital.” i felt on the verge of collapse constantly in the early days of my transition. it was like i had lost my shape and was destined to end up hurt in some way. i wish the text was more well thought out, it could have been done in a more uniform way and i think it would have looked a little better.

the wasp head is also a reference to an old oc of mine, who was a man with a wasp head named Gene. i wish i would have used different colors, the black and yellow i used should have been warmer. mars black instead of ivory. whatever again it’s technical stuff.

6.5/10 i could technically go back and fix this one bc i still have it, but i have better things to do rn.

the hand dino came into the world in a fiery manner. for the final project we had to make a piece with the dimensions of minimum like 4ft by 4ft, and by this point i was burnt out and the most exhausted with art i’d ever been (besides maybe sophomore year ig 🤔) and i told my professor i couldn’t do a project that big. he made the mistake of telling me to do what i could manage, which ended up being a roughly 12in by 12in piece of oil painting paper.

in many ways i like the concept of this piece. the idea of it. it’s fun! it’s combining realistic elements with cartoonish ones in a way i enjoy.

however. looking back, i genuinely think it would have been a cooler concept on a bigger scale 😭 which is so frustrating.

7.5/10 i wish i’d had it in me to do it better.

and how could we forget dear body horror babe? made in my first semester of sophomore year and done with ink and charcoal and conte crayons, it was an assignment one of my more eccentric teachers wanted us to do where we randomly splattered ink on a paper using ink-covered coins and tried to come up with a drawing just from the happenstance of where the ink coins landed.

i chose a more abstract route and basically turned every ink splat into an eye and tried to come up with somewhat distorted body imagery to evenly fill all the space on the paper. you can find a lot of stuff going on in this piece.

11/10 but also not done at my lowest point, just during the steady decline.

ok can i be frank for a second. i fucking hate this piece. so what you’re seeing is an 8ft by 4ft thin block of particle board, carved by hand in low relief to ink and print on old bedsheets.

my professor for this relief class was strict about the theme of the class, which was political art. she insisted we make art relating to a political topic and our beliefs on it. and this isn’t to say political art is bad in any way, but it’s truly not something i want to FOCUS on creating necessarily. the fact that it was MANDATORY is the issue here. one of my classmates refused to make purposely political art and instead chose to make a beautiful piece of the sun and moon as lovers. i wish i had just done the same and refused to make strictly political art. if i’m honest i just wanted to make an epic wood carving scene of a dark and eerie night outside draculas castle. instead, as you can see, i chose (somewhat arbitrarily in an effort to make the project into something i could enjoy carving) environmentalism.

technically i don’t mind this piece. the composition is fine and the detail in some areas i’m very proud of. other areas not as much. my teacher also forced me to do what i think is over-carve some areas to fill the piece with texture. i do not like it and i wish i had kept some areas fully un-carved, even if it didnt print right. i don’t care.

also what’s worse about the whole experience of this piece is that it was part of an event called Blocktoberfest and my school partnered with a local state college to make and print these huge blocks on their campus. the reason this is bad is bc the state college students did whatever the hell they wanted for their designs and we saw some really cool subject matters, from aliens to occult symbolism. and their school’s art department had a couch in it and ours didn’t. :/

also blocktoberfest was an insane amount of physical work bc rolling those big ass rollers in ink and then a giant block and then ink and then the block and ink and block was a lot of effort. i was sore after it. and it lowkey felt like me and my classmates were doing all the work and like maybe 5 people from the other school were helping. whatever. whatever anyways

1/10 genuinely pisses me off to look at. wish i would have just done draculas castle

^i also think it’s worth mentioning about this professor: no one really liked her. she made it very clear that she thought there was a right and wrong way to create art. and she fully believed she was right about everything bc she was old and wise. and she was also gay so maybe she had some credit. but her art to me always felt a little uppity and she was also really rich. she let us visit her studio and we did our final critique there of a piece i made that i absolutely hated everything about. i dont even have a picture of it bc it pissed me off so bad. she also was lowkey racist towards a few of my classmates so i really don’t like her.

anyways that’s all the pieces i want to review currently. let me know what you guys think about em if you want. i hereby ask for you to critique my art.

the difference between making art for a deadline vs making art purely bc you enjoy the process and outcome is so crazy. it actually makes me sick with sadness. i don’t have the resources to create freely yet. anyways art under the constraint of academia is so frustrating for me specifically. like whatever. whatever

[lil-melody-moon]

Okay, I think there has to be at least one post that sums up this year for me *hits my fist against an open palm of a hand* LET'S START THE COMPLAINING OF A POLE

Trigger warning: swearing, suicide mention, death mention, mental health being shattered to pieces

First of all, fuck this year.

I started it with a major breakdown at January/February. Start of it was at one night when I felt lonely. Decided to lay down in bed and listen to "Quadrophenia". I think this was the day that kinda created a bond with this album. The story of it was always speaking to me, not once nor twice did I think about running away from the life I have and start anew in a place where nobody knows me. Same goes with the feeling of being left out while trying to fit in to be betrayed by what I believed in in the end.

The album played until midnight and I came to conclusion that everything's useless and when I hit 31/32 and still be lonely, this is where I should draw a line. First suicide thought of that cursed year. Dad had timing, he came to my room at that exact moment i thought of it, telling me that he's worried because there's no sound coming from my room and it's late. Kinda saving me there while I was crying.

Then came the walk I took with parents, seeing all the couples so happy at early spring. The walk back took an hour, I was crying in public for an hour because of how left out I felt.

Skip ahead a few weeks later, Anja deletes her blog and a few weeks later I get a mail from her friend that she died in her sleep. That started everything.

I kept myself busy with university, even if the semester fucking sucked. I also dived right into obsessive reading, just to keep my thoughts busy and to not let the grief take over me, but skipping ahead to August that helped only so far.

I have to admit, if not "His Sweet Candy" I would go fucking crazy during summer. I had nothing to do besides writing the story and just sitting and doing nothing was out of the question. My thoughts would simply wander to the empty space Anja left and I would cry each day - even tv shows didn't bring me any happiness, I was literally hanging on the last thread of the single thing that kept me happy.

Sure, I kicked myself even more reading Keith's biography, but that book kept me busy as well, but I also look found on the days when I read it.

Come September and another mental breakdown (second and third suicide thought) that carried itself until December - arguments with parents one of which caused me to cry for two days, feeling useless and empty, crying at university, feeling left out by my classmates, PMS kicking me each month, you name it.

And then comes December that makes me so stressed because suddenly every fucking professor wants essays while I have dissertation on my head? Like, excuse fucking you - one of the professors wants a useless 5 pages essay and she wants full reference list on it on 9th of January. You think I started it? HAH, NO! This bitch can go fuck herself. I won't spend my free days on her stupid assignment because she's afraid of the board coming and checking our assignments. OH ALSO, there's one professor that we have an exam with (economy, haha) and she only did two lectures :) I also have the upcoming semester with the worst professors imaginable (and fucking German language because I need to know the words in library profession in German for some reason? Literally, fuck that).

I will fucking kill myself if I have to do Master's Degree. I do not want it, I want to go to a fucking job and forget all about this - and I KNOW that it's possible to work in a library with just a bachelor.

So among all this, here are the only positive things:

writing "His Sweet Candy"

becoming besties with Laura, Sarah, Savannah, Julie

another Julie (bestie) finally visiting me

watching Star Wars

The Who (Keith Moon)

his biography

job practices

writing a lot of fics for Laura and getting a lot of them

seeing Sarah getting better and slowly healing

discovering The Beach Boys, The Jam and The Clash

In big conclusion, fuck this year. I want to move on and hopefully have a better next year.

[jujutsubaby]

final round (part 1)

☆ pairing: eren x afab!reader ☆ summary: you have a very important interview coming up that basically dictates whether or not you have a job after college. and you're sure you're gonna ace it...as long as your arch-nemesis doesn't have anything to do with the interview... ☆ warnings: 18+, not nsfw in this part but has suggestive themes, former TA/student relationship, eren is kinda mean to you (but you're kind of mean to eren), a hint of power dynamics ☆ a/n: hiiiii my very first blurb on this site ~ yes this is my brain rot from trying to find a new job. also should i do a part 2? i kinda did this to tease the relationship a bit bc i didn't want my very first thing to be smut haha o(≧▽≦)o

you hear a ping from your laptop indicating a new email. you read the subject line:

Paradis Labs, Inc Final Interview - Next Steps

you couldn't believe your eyes. your dream company wanted to interview you for their final round and suddenly, you weren't able to even focus on hearing about your best friend sasha's latest hookup at delta phi last weekend.

"hey y/n? you listening? he took me to pound town and back...what's more important than this?" sasha inquired, snapping her fingers in front of your face.

"uhh..i got into the final round interview for paradis labs! AH!" you squealed.

sasha remained seated but elated. "i'm not the least bit surprised. you're the smartest, hottest girl i know after all", she winked. "but wait... doesn't you know who work there now after he graduated..." she trailed off, not wanting to illicit any alarm bells off of you.

you groaned, thinking about you know who. you knew him unfortunately very well in the worst way possible. the guy who was your TA last semester and absolutely crushed you while grading your midterms and finals. not only did he never answer any of your questions during class, he actively ignored you? and would only talk to some sleazy girls he was planning to hit on after the class ended. he had berated your final project, purposefully skipped over you on the waitlist queue multiple times during office hours, and you could've sworn he gave you the wrong advice once on a lab.

eren fucking jaeger.

you groaned just even thinking his godforsaken name out loud. "it's okay sash, paradis labs is like one of the largest companies in the nation. the odds of you know who being my interview is basically slim to none." you surmised unsuspectingly. you always had a way of attracting the worst luck, but you couldn't bear to entertain that for even a second.

~ two weeks later ~

okay, you got this. you've been studying for this final round nonstop for the last two weeks, you thought to yourself as you rode the bus to the elusive paradis lab headquarters. you've turned down every party, every study session, every potential "date" sasha tried to set you up with for this one interview. and you felt great about it.

you arrived at the headquarters 30 minutes early, thanks to your fear of being late, and you started to feel your stomach growling, clearly indicating that the glass of orange juice you chugged before you left was not enough. the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit your nostrils, and you found yourself at the paradis cafe at the lobby of the building you were interviewing at. you ordered your coffee and pastry, but as you're waited, you heard a distant, yet familiar voice in the background. you dared not turn behind you, because you knew if you saw him, your day was fucking over. you know exactly who it was. hell, you could recognize that laugh in a room full of people, easily.

ignoring the mild annoyance, you looked at your watch and started getting anxious. you grew increasingly annoyed and worried about bumping into you know who, and you just wanted to grab your stupid coffee and go upstairs and get this interview over with.

"one iced matcha latte with oatmilk for y/n!" the barista chirped, as you dashed to the front to grab the order. you heard the familiar laughter die down, but as you turned around to beeline to the elevator, someone's torso knocked you out and you spilled your iced matcha all over your freshly dry cleaned blouse and someone else's shirt.

"oh my god, i'm SO sor-", you stopped cold. wait, no. it's not just anyone's shirt i spilled coffee on. no it can't be-

"hey, doofus", eren glared. you detected a hint of playful mischief in his dark eyes, but it went away almost immediately. were his eyes always so mesmerizing? stop, what the fuck, don't think that! "always makin' a fuckin' mess, are we?"

you rolled your eyes. this could not be happening to you. matcha stained blouse, and you were hungry, and the worst person you knew was here. "fuck off, asshat", you retorted. "i literally have a meeting in 10 minutes and i look like a fucking idiot because of you."

"for what it's worth, you always looked like a fucking idiot." eren said.

you flipped him off before you beelined to the elevator, aiming to head to the change room immediately. you didn't have an extra blouse, but you were wearing a sleeveless black shirt underneath, which hid the stain well but it was a bit tight. even you had to admit your boobs looked amazing in it. tucking it into your loose grey slacks, you stepped outside the washroom and composed yourself. your interview was in 3 minutes, but you could do this. you knew you can. you passed eren's class last year, and that was with his ass constantly throwing you curveballs. this was nothing.

you entered the waiting room for the interview, waiting your name to be called in. shortly, a dark haired man wearing a white shirt and black slacks called you in. "y/n? there you are." he said nonchalantly as his narrowed in on you. "come into my office, please." as you walked next to him, you realized he's way shorter than he looked from across the waiting room.

"i'm levi, and i'll be conducting your interview today. please take a seat." he motioned to the chair across his table.

"hi levi. i'm y/n. i just want to say that i am so grateful to have had this opportunity to come onsite and be interviewed by some of the most magnificent minds of our-" you're interrupted by a loud phone call coming from levi's desk.

"i apologize miss y/l/n. let me just quickly answer that. they should know i'm in the middle of interviewing candidates..." he said, sounding slightly annoyed by the phone call.

he answered it, and you heard him groan and say "i'll be right there. send him to my office to take over." he looked over at you, partially annoyed and partially apologetic about the fuss happening. "i apologize. some brat fucked up the program we were releasing today, and now i have to clean up some one's mess." he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. you thought you heard him say that he's going to fire the brat at the end of the say.

"someone else will be coming to conduct the interview, but don't worry. he can be a bit much, but he's unfortunately one of our best recent hires in a while. i'm sure you'll be in good hands." levi said, before he grabbed his stuff and headed to the work emergency.

you were left a bit confused, but ultimately grateful that you had more time to calm yourself down after what happened in front of the cafe. out of all the people who work here, why did you have to run into him. you just can't catch a fucking break can you? you thought to yourself.

as if right on cue, levi's office door opened, and your thoughts were interrupted by the person who once again, occupied an unnecessary amount of thoughts in your head. your jaw dropped, and you practically had to stop yourself from yelling at the universe for this sick, cruel twist of fate that destiny was putting you through.

eren fucking jaeger.

you heard him chuckle deeply. "oh, this is going to be so much fun." eren smirked, his eyes staring at you deeply. he looked at you up and down, and suddenly, you really wished you hadn't taken off your blouse in the changing room, feeling suddenly exposed in this tiny hot (hot? when did this office get hot?) office.

you took a deep shaky breath and buried your head in your hands, groaning and letting out all of the bad emotions you were holding in. "eren, if you're just going to flunk me on this interview, just tell me right now. i'll go home and we'll both just move on." you pleaded. what else can you even do at this point? you should've known this interview was over the minute you heard his stupid laugh in the cafe.

"woah there, slow down doof," he said teasingly. he moved in front of you, partially sitting on levi's (quite expensive) mahogany desk. "you can't just leave an interview before it even started. and who said i was gonna flunk you on this? do you reaaaally think i'd do something like that?"

"umm, you literally did! last year on my midterm, stupid", you yelled exasperated. you were trying hard to keep your cool and calm disposition, but eren always loved to test your limits.

eren pretended to think about it for a second before he shook his head. "nope, doesn't ring a bell. anyway, first question of this interview: why do you want to work at paradis labs?" he asked.

"well, if you must know, i-", you started, before being interrupted by eren.

"i actually don't care. i don't know why anyone asks that." eren laughed, eyes skimming over the files on levi's desk. oh, you could slap him right now. your patience was wearing thin. "hm, well look at this here. your resume says you took a chemical engineering lab last year with professor zeke.?" he asked, knowing damn well the answer was yes. he tried to hold back the smile he had while he watched you visibly tighten up at the sound of the class. "care to tell me about that?"

"not really since you were my TA for that class and went out of your way to almost fail me." you retorted back, fuming at what was happening. no way was he trying to bring this shit up in the middle of an interview. but you were not backing down from this fight. it had been a long time coming. i'm not getting the job anyway at this point. might as well go out cursing eren while i'm at it, you thought to yourself.

"god, i don't know why you think that," he mused teasingly. "if anything, i helped make sure the other stricter TAs didn't grade your work. i dunno where you're getting this idea i hated you." he shrugged. you could swear he almost sounded...honest while saying the last part.

"oh wow, you're really too kind," you said sarcastically as you rolled your eyes. where does this guy get off?

"no, really y/n. i'm being serious," eren said earnestly. a slight genuine smile formed on his lips.

wait, is he? also, why is his smile so...cute? no, stop it, y/n! compose yourself! you quickly snapped out of your thoughts.

"you also ignored me every single time i came to your office hours and every time i came to your lab for help. you literally helped every single girl but me", you accused. you didn't mean to sound harsh and annoyed, but deep down, you felt your chest tighten up and you didn't know why. who cares if he helped other girls, he hates your guts anyway. why were you feeling so sour about it?

"don't give me that shit. i didn't help you because you were the cutest girl in lab and i couldn't make it seem like i was being inappropriate." he said without skipping a beat. eren wasn't sure what made him say it, but it was true.

your eyes snapped to him, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you momentarily forgot what you were even doing here as your head felt dizzy all of sudden. no way you just heard what you thought you heard. you jaw fell and you were at a loss of words to respond. "i...uhh...well.." cough. "um, o-o-okay..." you trailed off, desperate to find the words to respond to eren. you thought back to your class lat year with eren. was he ever really that mean to you? or were you just a bit desperate to do well in an important class? no, wait, he's just being asshole.

"well, if you liked me so much why did you hook up with those sorority girls after the semester ended?" you said incredulously. this was some big fucking joke and you were not going to lose this game.

"oh c'mon, y/n. don't act like you never had a one night stand before." eren explained, his voice lacking any hint of teasing or malice. "besides, you were the only one on my mind, anyway...", eren whispered under his breath so lowly that you weren't able to make out what he said.

well, actually, you haven't ever had a one night stand like that. in fact you never actually...had sex with anyone before. you've always been too focused in school to really date around, and the most action you've gotten was hearing about sasha's escapades. and you sure as hell weren't going to let eren know that.

"umm...well...", you said as you flustered your words. you took a bit too long to compose yourself and respond, which was all eren needed to connect the dots.

"oh shit. y/n...are you a virgin?"

"u-umm...of course not...i-i just...i just never found...or had the time...", you dropped your gaze. that's it, eren had just found his trump card, after he played the cruelest joke on you. you couldn't even think of a witty one liner like you usually did to get out of something like this. you were tired and shocked by eren's confession (which you didn't even believe fully). and not only that, but you were talking about your v-card with your worst enemy.

"hey, hey, hey, it's okay. i'm sorry, y/n. i shouldn't have brought it up, that was weird. and...", eren trailed off. he wasn't sure what to say next, but he said it earnestly and honestly. "i'm sorry for treating you like shit when i was your TA, and i'm sorry for bumping into you and spilling your matcha all over us," even though eren would've done it again if it meant he could see you in the form fitting top you currently have on, but he dared not to comment on that.

you sighed, partially out of relief and partially because you felt vindicated through his apology. your eyes glanced up to his, and both of your gazes softened. "so, you really do like me?" you teased eren, finally cracking a slight playful smile and releasing the tension in the atmosphere.

"shut the fuck up and don't make me say it again, doofus." eren mumbled, as he leaned closer into you. your heart started beating faster and you swear even eren could hear the pounding in your chest as you sucked in a deep shaky breath. you didn't mean to break eren's gaze and look at his lips, but you did and eren noticed. his smile curved up slightly as he leaned closer to you. you felt his hot breath near you lips, and just as his lips were about to crash into yours, the door bursted open to a slightly disheveled levi.

eren immediately snapped back to leaning on levi's desk, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. you prayed that levi could not see how flushed you looked or the goosebumps on your arm.

"how did the interview go?" levi asked eren.

eren gave a quick warm glance to you before he said, "y/n did great. answered every question with ease. i think we should extend an offer." you noticed the slightest hint of a smile in eren's professional demeanor, but you were more surprised that he'd do this for you. bit by bit, you felt your hard shell crumbling for eren, and you wondered how you will survive working at paradis labs after graduating.

eren walked you back to the elevator, his hand lightly touching the small of your back as guided you across the hallway. "well, i guess i look forward to working with you and picking back up where we started." eren said with a wink.

you turned around and touched eren's shirt, softly tracing the matcha stain you gave him. "hm, maybe i'll start off my first day dumping coffee on you first thing in the morning." you playfully teased, your breath accidentally hitching as you realized his chest was way harder than you expected it to be. oh my god, no way he's actually built under the shirt. embarrassed, you quickly buried that thought deep where it came from.

"hm, maybe i'll take you to the bathroom and make you help me clean it up," he replied, his eyes filled with warmth and invitation. something that was new to you, but you weren't complaining.

god, you couldn't wait to graduate.

[lavenderchqn]

𝑃𝑅𝑂𝐿𝑂𝐺𝑈𝐸 — BEVERAGE GANG

𝑅𝐸𝐷 𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆 — lyney x f!reader smau

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆 —

Second year of university should've been everything you thought of it - more studying with human interaction sprinkled throught... What it definitely wasn't supposed to be was an investigation saga where one of your friends goes missing out of nowhere

There was something about group projects early into the semester that filled people with uncertainty — for one, your grade was dependent on others doing their part… as well as having to deal with the awkwardness that came with not knowing each other that well…

Lyney was now experiencing it first hand, being stuck with a partner that they simply knew due to sitting next to each other on “The History of Theatre”. Luckily for him, the lovely girl he ended up with was practically more knowledgeable on this topic than their lecturer. 

On the other hand, she was a disorganised mess… as he managed to observe so far. 

“I am so sorry…” Furina sighed, searching her bag for notes a classmate had asked for their shared project. “I must’ve left my folder at my desk this morning…” 

“Whoa, whoa. You don’t have to apologise.” Lyney — the classmate in question — was stuck trying to console her, finding the apologetic behaviour of hers unnecessary. “It happens to all of us!” He did his best to cheer the panicked girl up… which seemed to be working, at least partially. 

In the blink of an eye, she got an idea, taking her phone out and deciding to call someone. 

“Please, please, please pick up— Hiii!” Her call went through and thus began her explanation of the situation. She stopped in the middle of her monologue, having realised something crucial. “Wait, I forgot to ask! Are you still home?”

“I was almost out the door.” Lyney could hear a deeper voice on the other end. “You are the last person that would make a phone call, so I picked up in case it was an emergency.” 

Furina, reassured by this knowledge, soon resumed her pleas of getting the folder delivered by her roommate, which by the steadily rising voice tone seemed to be going well. 

“You’re going to be at Café Lutece? We can go get there and pick it up!”

And that’s how Lyney ended up here. Sitting at a lovely establishment with his project partner… and a guy, with who he had major beef ever since starting university. All due to a singular game of Valorant. 

While Lyney’s only interaction with him was their twitter banter turning into said one-on-one match in the game… According to Furina, he has been nothing short of being a lovely guy and an amazing friend. 

From what she mentioned, they had become friends thanks to a well-timed suggestion at a tea shop one time. Something about her favourite brand discontinuing one of the flavours… and her being deprived of her lovely peach and raspberry beverage. 

“Neuvi should be here in a minute, quite the luck you managed to get ahold of him in time, Furu.” Wriothesley said, taking a sip of his coffee. He has been stealing occasional glances at the two of them ever since they got to the café. 

During Lyney and Furina’s walk to the café, she mentioned how Wriothesley was a frequent visitor here on his breaks between work… and so-called ‘Neuvi’ was meeting here with him to give back something he borrowed a while back, whatever it was. 

“I know right… He said something about me being the last person to make a call, and picking up in case it was serious” She executed her best Neuvillette voice, being surprisingly spot on. 

Wriothesley couldn’t help but chuckle at the girl’s impression of their friend. Even Lyney seemed to ease after witnessing it. 

“That’s quite a good impression, compared to what I heard on the phone call.” He said, grinning. “Are you sure that the seriousness in the tone isn’t a bit exaggerated, though?” Spoken like a true performance art major. 

Furina smirked, flipping her hair dramatically. “Someone has to keep things interesting around here.” 

Just then, the doors to Café Lutece swung open, and a tall and slender figure stepped in, scanning the room briefly before locking eyes with his childhood friend. Neuvillette with his calm demeanour soon approached the table, the missing folder in his hand. 

“Here you go.” He greeted her, handing her the file folder. “You ought to be more mindful of your things.” 

The girl accepted the folder with a grateful smile. “Thanks a bunch, Neuvi! You’re a lifesaver.” 

Neuvillette nodded, his gaze briefly shifting to Lyney, then to Wriothesley. An unreadable expression crossed his face before he returned his attention to the short male. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. I’m Neuvillette” He reached his hand out to shake Lyney’s. 

“Lyney.” He shook his hand. “Pleasure to meet you and huge thanks for coming through with the docs!” 

Neuvillette offered a polite nod. "It was no trouble. Good luck with your project."

As Furina and Lyney started to gather their things to leave, Wriothesley who had been listening in finally spoke up. “Why not join the two of us for coffee? Now that you have the notes, surely you could spare some time for the two of us.” 

At Wriothesley's suggestion, Lyney and Furina stared at each other, silently figuring out his proposal. 

“I can pay for your drink, as apologises.” Furina offered, looking the boy right in the eye. 

“I don't mind staying, as long as you stop being so apologetic, holy…” Lyney smiled awkwardly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone apologise so much for such a silly thing.” 

“To be completely honest, it is her fault.” Neuvillette declared, getting a look from the group. 

“Neuvillette… you will get yourself kicked out of the house again if you don’t shut up right this second.” Wriothesley countered, being met with a confused look on Lyney’s face. “Their water bill is atrocious. Don't ask.” 

With that, Lyney and Furina retook their seats, and the group settled into an unexpected but somewhat pleasant camaraderie. The initial awkwardness began to melt away as the conversation turned to lighter topics, ranging from the topics of university projects to computer games. Even Lyney and Wriothesley managed to find common ground once the topic of favourite café items came around. 

The day may not have started exactly how Lyney would predict it, but it ended on the best note possible. Although nobody at the time voiced it, this was the day when the group of friends had expanded into its final form… thanks to bonding over beverages of all things. 

𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆 — 𝑀𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — 𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇 𝐸𝑃𝐼𝑆𝑂𝐷𝐸

date of posting — july 12th 2024

[studentbyday]

week 3: let's get this bread! (famous last words...)

Omg I can't believe it's only week 3, sm has happened, I swear more time has gone by than actually has 😅😮‍💨🙃 Starting this week feeling a little discouraged because I still have a backlog of schoolwork to catch up on, but let's see if I can get my hopes up again by the end of this week! 🙏🏻🤞🏻If I want to achieve my goals, I need to drastically reduce my screen time. Here's to only using my phone for essential communications and for music, guided meditations, and pilates/yoga videos this week! 😤

mid-week update: this week has been a f*cking mess. mentally, emotionally, physically, existentially. i have not touched the db course so far which was my main goal for this week...every week i'm trying to add something new. i had my reservations about keeping on my original plan for this week, knowing i ended the last one still behind on school, but i went ahead with it, wondering, hoping if it was at all possible. well. we'll see where i'm at by the end of this week. at the very least i'll be closer to caught up.

end-of-week update: posting this early so i don't have to on sunday. i'm making progress but it's still slower than expected. insomnia is a problem. my nerves feel pretty frayed. must find ways to decrease the stimulation. time to reinstate the no-phone mornings (probs should add to my “bingo”) and a social media detox... not sure if i'll have time to post again next week. i find it hard to keep up. i'll probably come back if/when i get things under control...so bye for now (and i sincerely hope your semester is going better than mine 💗) 👋🏻

Academics:

Check and send pathology assignment!!!! ✅

Confirm immunology discussion due date!! ✅

Watch documentary on Wangari Maathai ✅ (glad i did this first thing on monday after sending the path assignment because it was really inspiring and lifted my spirits enough to keep going 💗)

Meet for pathology assignment ✅ (2 members in my group are like...really high-energy and gung-ho. i'm glad cuz that means it's a lighter load for me but woah was that overwhelming at first 😅 and the thing is...these guys aren't the first i've encountered like this. and i'm low-key jealous of them... they're the kind of people who give off the aura of “i'm capable of doing it all” because they're that driven...and based on what i've seen of them, i don't think they're faking it.)

Read all assignment descriptions for global health before you... ✅

Email chosen essay topic to TA by Thursday ✅

Finish M1 pathology by Wednesday ✅

Complete pathology M1 case questions

Finish half of M2 pathology by Sunday

Start pathology M2 case questions

Finish half of M2 global health by Friday ✅

Finish half of M3 immunology by Sunday

Finish M2 microbiology ~ (made some progress but not finished)

Start M3 microbiology

Participate in global health meeting ✅ (wasn't bad but also...not sure when this happened but i've gotten quite nervous speaking up in class and then in my overstimulation, forget some of what i had intended to say, ughhh just gotta keep practicing...)

Complete immunology discussion ✅

Send other pathology assignment ✅

Complete global health discussion ✅

Health:

Meditate x1

Journal x3

Yoga x2

Cardio x1

Pilates x1 (the first time i made it through a 30 min class in one sitting whooooo!!!!!)

Other life things:

Change bedding

Laundry

Music in My Head:

andante spianato et grande polonaise brillante

study music // 1 // 2 // 3

a strange playlist for strange people

piano trio no. 4 in e minor, op. 90, b. 166, “dumky”: i. lento maestoso / ii. poco adagio

pavane op. 50

Things I'm looking forward to:

end of the semester

the height of autumn

christmas

My not-bingo bingo (thinking I'll recycle this every month lol):

[livesincerely]

i was just reading back through your writer’s desks and remembered how much i loved the slideshow au! no pressure but do you have anymore thoughts on it? it’s just one of my faves <3

The outline/notes for that one are still in the very early stages but I’m happy to share what I’ve got so far!

00000

He’s waiting for Tony to come back from the bathroom, the next episode of Crime Scene Kitchen queued up on the tv, when his phone vibrates with a text from Jack.

this prod meeting is running long, probs won’t be back until late. Go ahead and watch w/o me

Everything ok?

ya but part of the set got busted during a scene change so I gotta figure when/how to fix it before tomorrow night

I’ll put your takeout in the fridge and save you some egg rolls

and that’s why you’re my favorite

Say hi to Medda for me

of course

“Jack’s not going to be home until late,” Davey announces as Tony wanders back into the living room. “He says we should start without him.”

….

“Dave,” Tony says, sighing deeply. “Why am I looking at a PowerPoint titled, “Jack Kelly + David Jacobs: A Comprehensive Argument for Maintaining Equilibrium.”

Davey pins him with a scathing look. “It’s a Google Slides presentation, you godless heathen.”

“What the fuck?” Tony asks, ignoring him, clicking rapidly through the screens. “When did you even make this?”

Davey shifts in his seat. “I mean, it’s more of a living document, so it’s never really finished—“

“Davey.”

“A couple years ago, I guess,” Davey says. “Give or take.”

Tony squints at the computer screen. “It’s saved on your old university account.”

“Okay, or maybe it was three months into junior year!” Davey admits, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was a stressful semester and I was super nervous about failing my animal science midterm and Jack was out on a date with that PoliSci major that lived upstairs and— And the when isn’t the point! The point is, according to my research, telling Jack isn’t worth the risk of ruining our friendship.”

“What are these graphs even measuring?” Tony asks, staring at one of the slides. “‘Overall Happiness, Jacobs v Others’?”

….

“Well, your math is absolute shit, for one thing,” Tony says, frowning at a graph entitled ‘Art Pieces per Subject’. Davey’s name is sitting in dead last. “There’s no way these numbers are right. Jack draws you literally all of the time.”

Davey frowns right back at him. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Uh, yeah he fucking does,” Tony disagrees. “You’re, like, one of his favorite things to make art of, period. He spends about half his time bitching about how copic doesn’t make a marker that matches your eyes—at this point I’m pretty sure he’s got more drawings of you than actual pictures.”

“I think I would’ve noticed if Jack suddenly started drawing me,” Davey scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s not like he’s subtle when something’s caught his eye. Plus, he lets me flip through his sketchbooks whenever he finishes filling one and I’m almost never in them.”

“Which one?” Tony asks.

Davey blinks. “Which one, what?”

“Which one,” Tony repeats, oddly intent. “Which sketchbook does he show you?”

“What do you mean, which one?” Davey asks, irritated. “The only one! The one he always— it’s not like it’s some big secret!”

Tony stares. Then Tony sighs.

Very quietly, Davey hears him mutter, “…pair of fucking morons.”

…..

“Okay, but, riddle me this,” Tony says. “Why don’t you just tell him? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“What’s the worst that could— I literally just went over all the reasons why that’s a horrible idea!” Davey exclaims. “It would ruin everything!”

“I really don’t think it would, Dave,” Tony says. “You and Jack… will ya at least think about it?”

“I’ve done nothing but think about it,” Davey says, and to his horror, he can feel his eyes starting to sting. “I can’t.”

“Want me to do it?” Tony offers, and he says it like a joke but Davey knows him too well to think that he’s anything but absolutely serious.

He jolts forward, arms outstretched as if to preemptively cram the words back down his throat. “Don’t you fucking dare, Tones, I am so fucking serious—“

“Okay, okay!” Tony says, holding up his hands in surrender. “I won’t snitch on your neurotic ass, even if it’d make you happier in the long run. My word as my bond or whatever.”

Davey huffs out a laugh, and it’s only a little teary. “Fuck you, my neurotic ass is the reason you made it to graduation, shithead.”

…..

“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Jack asks. “Mine’s dead and I left my charger at the theater.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Davey absently responds.

…..

“Davey,” Jack says, voice straining. “What the hell is this?”

“What is what?” Davey asks.

“This.” He turns the laptop around and— oh shit. It’s The Argument.

He feels his blood run cold. “Oh,” he says. “That.”

“Dave,” Jack says, his mouth set in a hard, thin line. “Did you make a fucking PowerPoint about me? About us?”

Davey swallows. “…It’s actually a Google Slides presentation,” he says weakly.

…..

“You’re telling me this is nothing?” Jack demands, incredulous. He tilts the screen back to show Davey the current slide, which is just an enlarged photo of Jack’s handsome, smiling face, surrounded by a halo of red arrows and the caption, ‘JUST LOOK AT HIM,’ written in boldfaced text. “Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Maybe we can stop looking at it now,” Davey says, loudly. He leans over the back of the couch, making another panicked grab for his laptop, but Jack dodges out of the way, clicking to the next slide.

[klausinamarink]

Hi Klaus! Ah, the birthday special is such a fun idea! If it's still available, I'll request:

You should have raised a baby girl, I should have been a better son

for Platonic Stobin

Happy early birthday! <3 Hope it's a wonderful year ahead -Jules

“Ok, I got another. If you were born a boy, would your parents still name you Robin?”

Robin snorted as she threw another almond in her mouth, “Oh, you should have seen their lists of names before I was born.” She shifted her seat on the couch and started counting off her fingers, “For their nonexistent son, there was Sebastian, Rocky, Thorn, Jay, Harry, Claude, Ethan, Todd, Luka-”

Steve already felt overwhelmed by the list. He almost interrupted but Robin was still going. 

“-Aloysius, Odysseus, and a couple more really obscure names. But the other ones they almost named me were Athena, Roberta, Viola or Violet, Crystal-”

Steve kicked at Robin’s shin, laughing, “You’re answering the wrong question!”

Robin kicked back before she too fell into laughter. Once she recovered, she wiped at her eyes and said, “Well, Robin wasn’t on the little boy’s list, so I guess that’s a no.”

“Oh god,” Steve moaned as he covered his face with his hands, “now that I know all of those other names, I’m afraid I can’t call you Robin anymore.”

An almond pecked him on the forehead. “Sure. Like you didn’t just already forgot all of them, dingus. Not that I’ll blame you.”

Steve peeked through his fingers, then took his hands off as he stretched up discreetly. “Yeah, you’re right. By the way, Viola, why didn’t you tell me your name was spelled Violet?”

Instead of taking his bait, Robin scowled at Steve and chomped on a few more almonds. Then she swiftly stole the pillow under his head so it bumped rather hard against the couch’s arm he was laying on. It didn’t hurt but he winced anyway.

“Robin!”

“I’m running out of ideas so I’m stealing your last question and making it my own. If you were a girl instead, what would your parents name you?

Steve answered immediately, “Stephanie.”

Robin blinked at him with surprise, “Wait, really?”

“I guess creativity is a Harrington weakness so,” he shrugged, “Steve for a boy or Stephanie for a girl.”

“Don’t tell me they did the same with your middle name.”

“Yep. Otis after my grandpa, Dorothy after my grandma.” He paused before adding, “They’re my dad’s parents. Not that my mom’s are bad, but I haven't seen them since I was, like, three.”

“Huh,” Robin said. Then they both fell into silence.

It didn’t take long for Steve’s thoughts to steer their way back to an old subject he hadn’t touched in ages.

The night after the fateful fight with Jonathan and the monster in his house, his parents had came home and his mother gasped at the state of his face. Steve had latched on the careful warmth she exhibited while she tended him in the bathroom. 

Steve had almost cried then. He had missed when his mother had dropped everything to take care of him whenever he was hurt. That was how she expressed the words ‘I love you’ to him without even saying it.

But his eyes had immediately went dry when his mother had looked at him and sighed like Steve was a stain on the kitchen napkins. 

Then she’d said, “If you were a proper lady instead, neither of us would be here.”

He had gone to bed, hollow and confused. Replayed her words over and over, thinking what did she mean?

And then it was like some floodgate was open. 

It didn’t matter if it was over the sparse phone calls or face to face, Shirley Harrington had found a new mission in making mournful quips towards her son of how much she had desired a daughter and how much better the never-born Stephanie would be.  

“More low grade this semester? A girl studies much harder than a classroom of boys anyway.”

“No more girlfriends? Oh, but a daughter of mine would keep a boyfriend for far longer than you had with that Nancy girl.”

“Why are you being more difficult these days, Steve? If you were a woman, you would know exactly how to keep quiet.”

And then came that fateful day when Steve had admitted to his dad that none of the prestigious colleges had accepted him. 

After his father’s fury continued to ring in Steve’s ears long after his departure, his mother had shook her head in tired disappointment and hovered to her reading room.

Steve had called out to her, trying to reach out and grab on the edges of her old warmth he desperately needed. He wanted to beg her for something. Anything simple like a hug.

But he’d asked her, “What if I was your daughter who got herself pregnant before graduation?”

It was such a ridiculous question. But Steve had been getting sick of his mother’s ‘what-if’ comments and wanted to retaliate anyways.

His mother had paused but answered so quickly as if she was waiting for the opportunity.

“Then I would marry her off to a bachelor and wish for a son instead.”

“But I am your son.”

“Your father wanted a son anyways.”

She had left him in the kitchen as if her words were a snide compliment at an art gallery. Like she hadn’t just dove her hands inside Steve’s hollow chest, found the remains of his heart, splattered the walls bloody-red with it so he would be surrounded by the proof of his mother’s love, and wiped her hands clean.

That was three months ago. But fuck, it felt like it had happened three hours ago. 

A poke on his knee brought Steve out of the churning void he was about to fall back into. Robin was looking at him with a furrowed expression that yelled ‘I am very worried about you right now, should we talk?’

“I’m okay,” Steve said automatically. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat up.

“No, you’re not.” Robin said, mirroring him so they were now sitting side by side. She bumped her arm against his.

“No, I’m not.” Steve echoed wearily.

Robin dropped her head on his shoulder. A comforting weight. She didn’t ask anything which Steve found grateful. But he couldn’t bear to hide the new aching in his chest from her. It would make him a hypocrite after the Russian torture.

“I guess it’s kind of funny that my mom wanted a daughter but she still would be disappointed in me.”

Robin made a small sad noise in her throat but said nothing. Instead, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

“As much as I would fear the tyranny of Stephanie Harrington, I wouldn’t regret being her platonic soulmate.”

“With a capital P.” Steve finished automatically, a tiny smile forming on his face. 

“With a capital P.” Robin echoed with a warm smile.

They sat together like this for several minutes. Then, Steve turned to her and asked, “So would that mean you would get a crush on me for having boobies?”

The bowl of almonds immediately exploded in his face. Steve fell back to the couch, clutching his stomach as he howled with laughter and Robin yelled, “Way to ruin an emotional moment, Steve Dingus Harrington!”

[ourtearsofrain]

Slow It Down (D.R.W/S.F.K)- Chapter 15

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka, (background) Josh Kiszka x Male O.C.

Genre: fluff, smut ish? (they get spicy but don’t go far)

Word Count:  2.5k

Warnings: Sam’s anxious at first but that’s like it, ^ like I said things get spicy but don’t go too far

A/N: I hate to say it, but this is the last official full chapter, although there will be an Epilogue set in the future

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

4:43 PM

“Hey.” Josh flashes the pair a nervous smile as they enter the kitchen where he and Austin had set in on unpacking the few groceries they had gotten to pass the time, trying to test the waters to see how their talk had gone. “Everything good?”

“Yeah.” Sam freezes, his mind racing out of nowhere. What if Josh doesn’t want me to live here? What if I don’t have somewhere to stay after all that? I can’t afford a place on my own, and I couldn’t make Danny leave Josh.

Josh’s focus moves to Danny, hoping he would elaborate. “Yeah, it did.” Danny looks to Sam, nudging him forward gently in encouragement. “Sammy has something to tell you.”

“Yeah, uh.” Swallowing hard, Sam’s eyes dart between Josh and Austin, looking to Danny behind him one last time before finding his courage. “I’ve decided I want to move here. I’m gonna finish the semester at Saginaw State, then transfer to NYU for the Spring term. I’m gonna start looking for jobs here like right now so I’ll try to visit as often as I can for interviews. And I- I was wondering if you would be ok with me moving in with you guys. Danny’s already agreed to sharing a room, I just wanted your opinion too, Josh. So, uh… yeah. That’s it basically.”

A beat of silence passes between the group before Josh whoops, startling everyone else as he practically throws himself at Sam, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and jumping up and down in excitement. “YES! IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION?! OF FUCKING COURSE YOU CAN MOVE IN WITH US, SAMMY!” He releases him, taking a step back to grin at him. “Austin and I were actually going to ask Danny if he would mind if he officially moved in, so now this’ll take our share of the rent down by half!”

“Woooow, so the only reason you’re fine with me moving in is to take the rent down, huh?”

“You know it, why else would I want to live with you? Did that for 15 years, never again unless I’m getting something out of it.”

“Fuck off.” Despite his words, Sam beams at Josh, his worries gone at the excitement his older brother had shown.

Josh’s eyebrows shoot up, as if he had just come up with a genius idea. “We should celebrate!”

Austin glances at his watch momentarily, speaking before his boyfriend could start rattling off ideas that would more than likely involve alcohol or weed as it was so early in the night. “Well, it’s almost five, darlin’. Anyone hungry?”

“Fucking starving. I’ve had nothing but plane peanuts since like ten AM.” As if on cue, Sam’s stomach grumbles, loud enough for everyone to hear as his face twists with hunger. “See?”

“Yeah, you’re all skin and bones, Sammy.” Josh swats his stomach as he passes him, too quick for Sam to retaliate as he darts towards the door. “We should go to Baazi, I’ve been craving Indian all day.”

Met with no complaints, the four men get ready to leave once again, slipping on their shoes and grabbing their phones, wallets, and keys before setting out with Josh in the lead. Out of earshot of the other pair, Austin leans towards Josh as they descend the stairs of their apartment, dropping his voice low just in case. “Not that I got any complaints, but you know Baazi is a bit pricey, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t care.” When Austin gives Josh a knowing look, he waves his hand in the air between them, slipping his hand into Austin’s as his arm drops. “It’s my treat tonight, and don’t try talking me out of it. Sammy’s moving here, we’re celebrating.”

“Fine.” Austin lets out a sharp sigh, slightly annoyed with his stubbornness but in admiration of Josh nonetheless. “You know, it’s sweet. You treatin’ us to dinner tonight, your reaction to Samuel movin’ here.”

Josh shrugs as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, his actions coming naturally to him. “He’s my little brother. He’s finally taking control of his life, he’s finally gonna be happy. Sammy rarely makes this monumental of a step, this is really big for him. I love him and I’m proud of him; and I know how terrified he must be, so I’m gonna do all I can to make him feel welcome.”

“You’re easily the most beautiful person I reckon I’ve ever met, Joshua Kiszka.”

Josh missteps at his words, luckily having just stepped onto the ground floor, and he regains his balance before glancing over at him with a sheepish smile. “I don’t know about that, baby. I mean have you met yourself?”

Austin only grins down at him as he holds the door open, pausing to wait for the other pair. “Shut it and take the compliment.”

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

7:28 PM

“That place was fantastic, best I’ve had in a while since Frankenmuth doesn’t have many good Indian places. Thanks for picking the bill up, Josh.”

“No problem, Sammy. Like I said, we’re celebrating. Speaking of,” Josh grins wide, the other three men immediately knowing what he was about to suggest. “We should continue this celebration back home, if you know what I mean.” He brings his pinched thumb and index fingers to his lips, winking theatrically as if his words and actions weren’t an immediate hint to what he was implying.

When Danny and Sam voice their agreements, Josh turns to his boyfriend, gently elbowing him in the ribs. “Yeah, yeah alright.” Austin laughs. “I won’t be smokin’ too much tonight though, gotta wake up early for work tomorrow mornin’ and I can’t exactly show up to the shop high… again.”

“Wait, again??” Sam exclaims, eager to know more. “Where do you work?”

“…local auto repair shop. Don’t remember any of that shift. Last time I try Josh’s ‘special brownies’ the night before I work, I’ll tell ya. Probably don’t help that I got a low tolerance since I haven’t been smokin’ for long.”

“Oh my god, I knew Josh was a bad influence!”

“Am not!”

“Yuh huh.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sam.”

“You’re just mad I’m right.” Sam looks over his head at Austin, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you know Danny and I were 15 when he let us smoke with him and Jake?”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Josh punctuates each word with a smack to Sam’s arm, resulting in Austin gently steering him to his other side to put some space between the brothers. “In my defense, there’s literally nothing to do in the fucking Midwest, especially Frankenmuth.”

“Aw don’t worry darlin’, I won’t hold it against you.”

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

9:17 PM

“Bedtime.” Josh mumbles out as the end credits to Cars 3, Austin’s movie choice, plays on the TV across the room, his eyes barely cracked open from his high.

Sam immediately sets in on teasing him, having smoked less than his brother. “Awww, is Joshy tireddddd?”

“Shut the fuck up, I went through most of a J on my own. I’m higher than bat pussy right now.”

His choice of words sets the other three men off, snorting before dissolving into laughter before Austin finds his words first. “What?! Where the hell did that expression come from, darlin’?”

“Dunno, some random bar here. Anyways, I’m tired, sleepy time now.”

“Alright, c’mon.” Austin stands, wobbling on his sore legs before reaching down to pull Josh up. “It was great gettin’ to know you, Samuel. Heard so much about you but I’m glad I finally got to meet you, and I’m glad you’re movin’ in with us soon. Imma get him to bed, goodnight y’all.”

“Goodnight Austin, see you tomorrow.”

“Night, it was great to meet you too.” The pair watch the other two stumble from the room with Josh leaning heavily on Austin, Josh’s bedroom door quietly clicking behind them a few seconds after they disappear from their sight. Sam’s head falls on Danny’s shoulder, relaxing into him easily.

“You tired too?”

“Not really, I probably should be after all the traveling today and… emotional exhaustion, but I’m not.”

“Understandable.” Danny makes a move to stand, much to Sam’s dismay until he reaches down, offering his hand to him. “Let’s go, we don’t have to sleep, but my bed is more comfortable than this couch.”

“Oh, so you’re trying to get me into your bed now?” Sam questions with a mischievous grin, allowing the other man to pull him up nonetheless.

“Shut up, I’m not trying to pull any moves on you, I just want to get my ass off these threadbare cushions.”

“Likely story.”

Danny shakes his head as he opens his bedroom door, rolling his eyes as Sam passes him. “Keep it up and you’re sleeping on the couch, Kiszka.”

“You wouldn’t.” Sam puts on a wounded expression, flashing puppy dog eyes at Danny as he closes the door behind himself.

Danny melts at his act, making his way back to Sam and placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I wouldn’t. Anyway, do you need anything to change into? I probably have some sweats if you don’t want to sleep in your jeans.”

“Na, it’s alright, I brought something.” Sam leaves him, crossing the room to where he had thrown his small suitcase and crouching to unzip it. “Usually, I sleep naked, but I won’t subject you to that tonight.”

“Who says I don’t want to be subjected to that?” Danny jokes, his tone lighthearted but his heart hammering in his chest as he swapped his sweater for a faded tie-dye shirt.

“Someone’s eager.” Sam cocks an eyebrow at him as he stands again, a pair of short, red and blue shorts in his hand.

Taking his comment as a sign of discomfort, Danny rushes to clarify. “I was just kidding, we don’t- we don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“I know, Danny, I’m just fucking with you.” Sam grins wide before unbuttoning his pants, barely giving Danny the time to avert his gaze out of respect as he pulls the tight jeans down his legs. He laughs when he sees Danny’s cheeks go red, his eyes darting around the room to focus on anything but him. “You’ve seen me change before, Danny. I don’t care if you’re looking.”

“I know… It’s just, it’s different now.” He looks back up at Sam, his voice timid as he began to fidget with his hands.

Sam makes his way over to him quickly, bringing his hands to his mouth before kissing his skin lightly. “I know. Thank you for respecting any of my boundaries, but again, you can look when I change. Especially if I’m just putting a different pair of pants on.”

“Alright.” Danny offers him a small smile before Sam turns away, making his way over to the bed as Danny strips his own jeans off. Noting the two pillows on his bed despite living alone, Sam hesitates by the side of it as Danny joins him. “You got a preference for which side you sleep on?”

“Nope, I end up sprawled in the middle when I sleep alone. You?”

“Can I have the right side?”

Danny smiles at him before making his way to the left side of the bed, pulling the comforter back before crawling under the covers. “Of course.”

“Thanks, Danny.” Sam follows suit almost immediately, clicking the lamp beside him off and settling into the bed. He hesitates for a moment as he feels Danny’s arm brush his, unknowing whether or not if the other man was a cuddler outside of unconscious camping habits.

As if he were reading his mind, Danny snakes his arm under Sam’s back, pulling him into his chest. “This ok?”

Sam breathes a sigh of relief into the fabric of his shirt, relaxing against him. “More than ok.”

Danny’s arms tense around him, as if he was holding something back. “Can I kiss you, Sammy?”

Instead of answering with his words, Sam tilts his head up, blindly searching for his lips in the dark until they finally connect. Danny’s hand moves up to cup Sam’s jaw as his other splays across his lower back, pulling him into his body. What starts out as a slow and tender kiss quickly heats up as Sam’s lips part, giving Danny the opportunity to test the waters by licking across his lower lip, reveling in the quiet hitch of Sam’s breath. As their breaths become more erratic, Danny moves his hand to Sam’s hip, grinding his body into the quickly forming tent in his boxers.

“Wait.” At the word, Danny freezes immediately, pushing Sam’s hip away from himself slightly to put some space between them, afraid he crossed a line. “Can we take it slow, please? Believe me, I want to but, maybe not tonight.”

“Of course, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” As Danny settles back against his pillow, Sam props himself up on his arm, bending slightly to reconnect their lips briefly.

“Thank you. Like I said, I want to eventually, I guess I’m just kind of in my head right now.”

“You’re alright, we can slow it down.” Danny hesitates again as Sam relaxes into his own pillow, the space between their bodies increasing as he untangles his legs from Danny’s. “Can I- can I hold you?”

“Yes, you can.” Sam’s heart soars as Danny wraps his arms around him again, pulling his back flush against his chest as he nuzzles his face into his hair, placing a gentle kiss to the back of his head. “Remember when we raced to the lake while camping?”

“Yeah, I remember you cheating very vividly.” Danny prods his finger into the soft skin of Sam’s side, grinning to himself as Sam squeals and tries to twist out of his grasp.

“I did not cheat, never have and never will, thank you very much. But I ask because I believe I still haven’t gotten my prize yet.”

“Oh, really? And what do you think your ‘prize’ is, huh?”

Sam turns, his front pressing into Danny’s as he looks up at him in the dark. “This. Us. This is all I want, all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Really?” Despite his best efforts, tears quickly come to Danny’s eyes at Sam’s words, barely succeeding in keeping them from spilling down his cheeks.

“Yeah.”

“I love you, Sammy.”

Sam grins in the dark, his exhaustion beginning to catch up to him now that he was in the arms of a man he could now proudly call his. “I love you too, Danny.”

Within minutes, only the soft sounds of their quiet snores can be heard, both men drifting easily into sleep with the other securely pressed against their bodies.

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

taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @milojames16 @sanguinebats @theres-a-tvjoe @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @currentlyfangirling10

[saninthebuilding]

"it's your golden hour"

❤️‍🩹 pairing: kim taehyung x reader

❤️‍🩹 summary: being in a relationship with an idol can be a bit busy, especially when it's one of the members of bts. however, despite all taehyung's idol activities, you're there to show him- both to his face and behind his back -just how much you love him, even when he doubts his worth.

❤️‍🩹 word count: 2.8k (edited!)

❤️‍🩹 genre: idol!taehyung au, art major!reader au, university student!reader au, fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort

❤️‍🩹 trope: pre-established relationship

❤️‍🩹 warnings: self-doubt, crying, mentions of sleep, taehyung is unsure of reader's love for him, reader is completely in love with taehyung, they're really soft, fluffy-haired taehyung (because i consider this a warning, he's so fine-)

❤️‍🩹 a/n: changing up my theme! to be honest i like this a lot more, it's so organized and clear, but anyways. i really liked how this turned out, even though i had a completely different idea when i started this, but i've been so in love with taehyung's hair in his recent lives and i just had to write something for him because he's been bias-wrecking me really hard lately. i hope you enjoy!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

leaning back into the couch, i stretch my arms high above my head, basking in the evening sun currently streaming through the large french windows in the living room.

taehyung lay sprawled out beside me, head in my lap and feet hanging off the side of the sofa as he taps away at his phone, playing some game he'd downloaded recently.

he cheers, pumping his fist into the air as a celebratory tune rings out from his phone, and i shake my head, smiling down at him as i brush his hair out of his eyes. he looks up at me, excited, before turning back to his screen.

it was a lazy sunday for taehyung and i, the two of us having cleared up our weekend to make time for each other. although he was currently on break from his idol activities to work on his solo career, he was still busy. having secured several deals, he was bomboarded with photoshoots and modelling by major companies like celine and elle korea- just to name a few.

however, my schedule wasn't any better. as a current art major in my fourth year of university, culminating week was just around the corner as my last semester rounded to a close. it was a stressful time, but i was lucky enough to have submitted my portfolio assignment early, so i had the rest of the week free before my final evaluation.

sighing, i look down, staring at taehyung playing his game. he seemed so focused, the reflection of the colourful lights from his screen painting his determined expression in hues of reds and blues.

looking at the time, i see the clock on the opposing wall reads 6:13 pm.

i pouted, glaring at his phone that had held his undivided attention for the past hour. i had thought he would put it away after a while, but it seemed like he had been waiting all week to try the app out, so i'd taken the opportunity to just enjoy his company.

still, i did miss actually interacting with him.

we'd barely gotten free time until now, and until his final photoshoots finished and my semester ended it was unlikely we'd get to spend some proper time together like this again.

not gonna lie, i feel like i'm third-wheeling here.

"taehyung, why won't you hang out with me?" i whined, taking him by surprise as i drum my hands on his chest. he lets out a startled yelp, quickly pressing something on his phone before looking up at me.

"yah, i almost lost!" he protests, looking at me in absolute horror- "you can't scare me like that!"

"yea, well maybe you should lose" i say, cheeks puffing up as i spoke. "all you've been doing is playing that game for the past hour. it's like i freed the weekend up just to watch you-"

realizing this wasn't what i had intended to say, i backtracked, waving my hands around frantically in panic, "which i love, don't get me wrong! uh- watching you, i mean. but, i just..."

i trail off, hands coming up to cover my face in embarrassment, before i peek down through my fingers. taehyung is gazing up at me, a soft look on his face, phone forgotten on his stomach.

i sigh, taking his silence as an encouragement to keep going.

"i've just missed you so much" i mumble, turning away from him to look out the window. the sun was setting lower now, rays turning golden as they hit the glass and splintered in the air.

it was magical.

"this is the only weekend we both have off until all our work is finished, and that isn't for another week or so. and i've barely seen at all except for when i'm leaving early morning for a class and you're there to drive me, or when you come drained after a day of work and slip into bed next to me, so it's a little..."

i pause, confused as i see taehyung's mouth falls open in shock. but before i can ask him what's wrong, he quickly sits up, shifting the two of us on the couch so we're facing each other.

"shit, do i wake you up every night?" he asks as his hands glide up and down my sides in what seems to be apology, "i swear i try to be quiet-"

i laugh, realizing he thinks he disturbs my sleep, before shaking my head, "no, no, don't worry. you don't wake me up." i let my hands rest on his knees, tracing small patterns with my fingers to calm him down.

"but then how do you-" he stops talking, confused, "it's always really late when i get home. and you're always asleep when i lie down..."

"well, no, not really. i just..." i feel heat start to creep into my ears, and i look down, focusing on the soft white material of his t-shirt.

"i wait for you. i know how tired you are when you get home, you barely even wash up or change before coming to bed. so i just, you know..."

i don't see it, but taehyung's eyes go wide, as if something clicked in his head. "that's why my clothes are always changed, and why my face and hair aren't full of all the products the staff use when i wake up."

suddenly taehyung tilts his head down, and as he looks at me, i see his expression has turned gentle, loving, adoring, as though i were the most precious thing in the world. his hands have stopped on my waist, and when he speaks his voice is heavy with emotion.

"no wonder on some nights i'd feel you moving around. and others i'd wake up with memories of hands cupping my face, guiding a glass of water to my lips, brushing the hair out of my eyes. you take care of me every night after i fall asleep, don't you?"

i bite my bottom lip, feeling a little embarrassed, but i nod anyway.

it was true. each night i'd wait for taehyung to get home, and after he had knocked himself out among the sheets, i would get up and start with his clothes. sometimes he'd wake up halfway, helping me swap his dress pants for a pair of soft pajama bottoms. other times i'd gently peel off his leather jacket or button-up while he slept, leaving him more comfortable in a t-shirt.

next i'd wet a towel with warm water and wipe the beauty products off his face (even though he doesn't need any). but it was never too much since the stylists try their best to use as little as possible when shooting, so it was always the easiest thing to do.

then i'd get another wet towel and start on his hair, working out the gel and hair spray that was occasionally still there on days where taehyung didn't have the energy to wash it out before coming home.

and if i was lucky, he would sometimes wake up just as i was getting back into bed, drunk on sleep and exhaustion, and i'd use the opportunity to coax a glass of water into his hands, encouraging him to finish it.

it was nights like these i cherished most, the stolen moments i was sometimes blessed with when i helped him drink some water and he would mumble how his day had been, eyes bleary and hands reaching for my warmth. the days where he trusted me enough to let me take care of him, even in his most vulnerable state, before pulling me into his chest and falling back to sleep with me in his arms.

and as i felt his fingers under my chin, guiding my head to meet his gaze, i stared into his soft, brown eyes, taking in the way the sun hit his tan skin just right, bathing him in a golden glow so breathtaking that he looked unreal, seeing the way his eyes shined and his face was so full of love, for me, all for me, and i realize that, no, those moments were not what i cherished most.

it was him that i cherished most.

"y/n?" taehyung breathes, and as i saw his eyes begin to turn wet, i understood that he felt the same way.

even though we barely got any time together, even though we barely saw each other, even though our lives were so busy, at the end of the day these things would never change the way we felt for each other.

because i loved him, and he loved me, and regardless of all our photoshoots and assignments and mismatched schedules, that love was never going anywhere.

it would never waver, because the bond the two of us had created over the years was deeper than scenic dates and bouqets of flowers and fancy gifts.

it was trust and comfort and support and understanding- but above all else, it was unconditional love.

and that is the kind that lasts forever.

"yes?" i whisper, and my voice comes out breathless, dazed, as i am completely transfixed by the man before me.

"don't i burden you? don't you think i rely on you this much, even unknowingly? doesn't it bother you that i'm barely around, showing up late at night only to fall straight asleep and wake up early only to leave you again?"

my lips part as a gasp comes out of my mouth, his unexpectedly serious words spearing my chest- "of course not taehyung, how could you say that?"

he shakes his head, teeth nipping at the corner of his mouth. "i mean, i know i'm an idol, and that this relationship is probably already something that puts strain on your shoulders due to the possibility of fans finding you and harming you. but i'm also your boyfriend. and boyfriends are supposed to be here, supposed to be present, supposed to show you how much you mean to them."

taehyung leans closer, tentative, wary, almost scared as he reaches out to me, only to pull his hand away. he swallows hard, before looking up to meet my gaze, eyes glistening.

"don't you get tired of being with me?"

my heart drops at his words, at how ashamed and anxious he sounds. he clenches his jaw, a nervous habit of his, and i let my eyes linger on the movement, watching how the veins in his neck make a quick appearance. i see the muscles in his arms flex as he lifts his hand to my face again, seeming unsure. i admire the ethereal glow the sun casts upon his skin as he raises my head to his. the mole on his lower lip, on his nose, on his cheek. the way he pulls the skin of his bottom lip between his teeth, sinking them into the soft flesh before letting go. the way the salt water in his eyes threatens to spill over his lashline.

i lift my hands up to his cheeks just as he rests his own on mine, gently brushing my thumbs over his eyes, preventing the tears from finding their way down his face.

he opens his mouth to continue, but i'm faster, the words tumbling out of me before i can stop myself.

"i love you so much taehyung" i breathe, voice catching in my throat as i feel my own eyes starting to sting. "so, so, so much- more than you can ever know. but you have to know. you need to know. i need you to know."

taehyung lets out a shaky breath, something halfway between a hiccup and a sob, and i move closer, climbing into his lap.

"we're both busy, and that's unavoidable. you have your life and i have mine, and even though we are so closely part of each others' lives, there are some things i cannot be included in, just as there are some things you cannot be included in."

his hands have come to rest on my hips, and letting one hand rest on his cheek, i maintain eye contact as i carefully run the other under his eye. over his cheekbone. his cheek. along his jawline. down his neck. he swallows under my touch, and i feel his adam's apple bob beneath my fingers. his eyes stay on mine, and when my hand reaches his chest, i flatten my palm directly over his heart, feeling his heartbeat thumping against my skin.

"but even though i may not be everywhere with you physically, i will always be in here."

i gaze at him, feeling my own heart beginning to speed up as i feel his fingers creep under my shirt, tracing circles with his thumbs on the skin of my waist.

"it doesn't matter how much time we spend together, it doesn't matter how much time we don't spend together. i need you to know that my love for you is not going anywhere."

my voice cracks a bit, a tear escaping down my cheek, and this causes taehyung to sniffle, eyes watering again.

"it doesn't matter how late you come home, it doesn't matter how early you have to leave. i will be there" i say, pressing my hand into his chest, "both in here..." i take my hand away from his face and gently grip his wrist, before placing his hand on my cheek, "and out here."

he bites his lip, visibly struggling to keep his tears at bay as he lets out a shuddering breath. he's clutching my sides now, as though trying to ground himself, to control the sobs threatening to take over.

"i will always be there to wipe your face down when you're too tired, to make sure you eat or drink something after a long day, to tuck you into bed so you can get a good night's sleep- to do whatever it is you want me to do for you."

i let go of his hand, reaching over to cup his face again, before pressing my lips to his forehead. and it is this action that seems to be too much for him, that breaks the dam he was so desperately trying to maintain, and he lets out a sob, arms wrapping around my body as he pulls me close, burying his face into my shoulder.

"because i love you, taehyung" i choke out, my own tears spilling down my cheeks upon hearing him break in my arms, "and i will always love you. so don't you ever doubt that."

he's crying in earnest now, his hands fisting the cloth of my shirt as his body shakes from the force of his tears. he inhales shakily, before forcing himself to say something.

"y/n" taehyung sputters, and i'm instantly hugging him closer as my own tears fall, rubbing his back and planting soft kisses into his fluffy hair.

"i'm right here, taehyung. i'm not going anywhere, i promise," i whisper into his ear, gently rocking us side to side. "it's okay, you're okay. we're okay."

i let him cry for a while longer, holding him up even as his body gives out under the weight of his tears. i feel him pulling away, and as i wipe my tears away to glance at him, his hands are suddenly cupping my cheeks, looking me straight in the eyes before he presses his lips to mine.

the tears streaming down his face mix with my own on our lips, the salt water a stark contrast to the sweetness of the kiss. he goes slow, as though trying to engrain the moment into his heart, into his mind, convincing himself that i did actually, truly love him despite the burden he considered himself to be.

i tangle my fingers into his hair, and as i marvel at the softeness of his brown locks under my hands, i pull him closer, wanting him to feel all the affection and adoration and sheer love i had for him.

taehyung leans back after a bit, panting softly, his glossy eyes blown wide as he studies my face. he lifts a hand to caress my cheek, absentmindedly brushing at the wetness on my skin before pressing his forehead to mine.

"i love you" he whispers, "i love you so much, y/n, and i can't tell you how grateful and lucky i feel just to be able to call you mine."

he pulls away, grabbing my hand and slips his fingers between my own, before lifting our intertwined hands to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand, keeping his eyes on mine the entire time.

despite my current drowsiness due to all the tears i just cried, i let out a surprised giggle. taehyung's gaze is gentle as he watches me, wiping the tears from my face, and i lean into his touch before throwing myself into his arms. he catches me easily, arms supporting my weight as i kiss his cheek, smiling softly.

"i love you taehyung."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

❤️‍🩹 i hope you enjoyed! likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading!