#my sleep schedule should be the opposite

[this-doesnt-endd]

I feel like my crown just shifted up oh my god

[brionysea]

the most annoying part of a daylight hours-oriented sleep schedule is the clock always trying to bully you into "healthy" habits

[no-one-hears-me]

I need to delete snapchat and stop talking to men and maybe just sit in a field and be with the lord

[danielnelsen]

when given the opportunity, my sleep cycle always reverts to being completely nocturnal (around mid-morning to mid/late-afternoon) and a year or two ago i finally decided to try to follow that and it's the first time in more than a decade that i havent had severe, disabling insomnia. ive tried every suggestion to sleep 'normally' and all it's done is make me get 3-5 hours of sleep per night, no matter how tired i am (which is very).

my nocturnal schedule isnt sustainable; not because i dont like it, but because i cant do anything at those times. everyone's constantly on my case insisting that i change it back to 'normal', no matter how much i explain that years of trying that just didnt work. they'd rather i be taking all the sedatives i used to rely on than just sleep naturally. it's always seen as a temporary solution until i can 'sort it out properly'.

i recently started seeing a new psychologist and she's the first person ever in my life to ask if id rather try to change to a 'normal' schedule or if id like to try to adapt my life around being nocturnal. i was so surprised by the question that i wasnt even sure how to answer. i know what i want, but it's so at odds with what everyone else expects that i couldnt give a firm answer. and even then, despite asking the question, she still clearly has a preference and wants me to work on pushing back the time i go to bed.

the limited research ive read on dspd/dsps is that there isnt a 'cure'; sometimes people can maintain a slightly earlier rhythm, but it takes ongoing effort and most people cant sustain it. as someone who's had a terrible sleep quality for more than half my life, i can say definitively that getting a good sleep is so much better for you than sleeping at a 'normal time'. and when your best health outcomes come from not intervening and everyone else just having to deal with it, that's not a disorder, it's just a social expectation.

if only everyone else would just deal with it.

i fucking hate

this is literally just labeling someone’s natural circadian rhythms as disordered.

“may fall asleep later than intended and feel sleepy during the day”

WHAT IF

hear me out

WHAT IF

WE JUST LET PPL LIKE ME W NATURALLY “DELAYED” CIRCADIAN RHYTHMS SLEEP WHEN THEY NATURALLY WANT TO AND STOP FORCING THEM TO CONFORM TO A BULLSHIT CAPITALISM-FUELED NIGHTMARE SCHEDULE!

like!!!!!!!!! WHY is this a DISORDER!!!

i remember during lockdown when i had nothing to do and i just started naturally letting my sleep return to what felt most natural, and that happened to be around 3am-10am ish. and i felt fucking fantastic!!!! i felt the best i’d ever felt!!!!!!

and now i’m back to bullshit trying to knock myself out using nyquil or weed or benadryl so i can wake up at 8am and get to work at 9am which is apparently “late” and i feel like shit all day and can never find the motivation to work on my books!!! during the pandemic i wrote an entire fucking book!!! usually between the hours of 11pm and 3am!!!! and now when i start to feel that itch to write i have to ignore it bc i have to go to bed at a time that feels so unnatural!!!!! fuck!!!!!!!!

i hate everything!!!!!!!!

[gghostwriter]

Hey can I request something? Maybe something where Spencer comes home to find his partner passed out on the bathroom floor?? Perhaps due to a hot prolonged shower? No serious ailments just a little bump on the head and a worried spencer hehe. Thank you!!! I love your work!!

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: This is a little bit shorter than my first request but still cute nonetheless. Hope you like it anon! Main masterlist

Blackout. // Spencer Reid

It was late into the night—10:30pm, to be exact, when Spencer arrived back home from a case in Dallas. The team had spent four grueling days catching the unsub and sleeping in highly questionable hygienic motels. The thought of the stale smell of cigarettes and grimy countertops made him shudder. All he wanted to do now was take a deep shower, kiss and cuddle with you, and crash into a deep sleep. 

He entered the threshold quietly, knowing your on-call schedule at the hospital for the whole month was taxing. He expected you to be passed out on the bed—dreaming of sunshine and rainbows but imagine his surprise when he noted the bathroom light open and the door slightly ajar. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m home,” he called out. 

A muffled groan answered his call. 

That alarmed him enough to drop his satchel and coat on the floor, feet clad in mismatched socks sliding across the wooden floor. The sight of you sitting on the bathroom floor, back against the wall, stopped his heart from beating—thirty second full stop—before it started beating again at twice the normal speed. 

“Y/N. Are you alright—“ he bent down to peer into your fluttering eyelids. “—did you hit your head? Is your vision blurry? What—” 

You raised your hand to stop his spiraling. “I felt faint from the heat, Spence. That’s all.”

His eyes widened in alarm as he tried to spot any external injuries. “Did you faint? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

You shook your head, causing him to gasp with worry. 

“Don’t shake your head! Sudden movement can stretch and further damage brain tissues—we should, we should get you to the hospital!” His voice cracking at the end.

“No hospital, I’m alright Spence. I sat down when I felt dizzy so no head injury to worry about,” you smiled, taking in your boyfriend’s fussy hands, touching your face and head, and his face showcasing a variety of looks, all painting worry. “Plus, I’m a doctor. Pretty sure, I know what I’m talking about.” 

He sighed. “I’m a doctor, too, and your boyfriend, I have every right to worry.” Wrapping his arms around your waist, he brought you up to a stand. “Lean on me, let’s get you to bed.”

You hobbled to bed where Spencer fussed to situate you in. Having spent all your working hours doing the opposite, it was amazing to be the receiving end—especially from someone as dedicated and caring as Spencer. 

He rushed to bring you a cup of water. “Drink slowly. It’s possible that you’ve been dehydrated and it was exacerbated with your hot shower. Did you drink enough water today, Y/N?” 

“Yes, Dr. Reid. I drank plenty of water during my breaks,” you teased. 

“I sense you’re starting to feel better. The sarcasm is back,” he jested with a smile before replacing it with a look of seriousness. “I know you like your hot showers but do you think you could lower the temperature to prevent the fainting spells from happening again? I worry about you, especially when I’m out on a case. A study found that hot water increased heart rates by 32% and blood flow by 44%, which isn’t bad in itself but combined with your fatigue and resistance to drink lots of water, there’s a higher possibility of you fainting again and again.” 

You caressed his cheek before nodding your head. “Alright, I will, Spence. Y’know all this worrying for me will give you premature grey hair and that—“ ruffling his wavy locks “—would be a travesty.” 

He laughed, giving you a peck before stepping out of his work clothes. “I’ll take a quick shower, be right back and please, stay where you are.”

You watched as he entered the bathroom, leaving the door open just in case you’d call and he’d come running. Sliding down under the covers, you felt your exhaustion pulling you under to a state of in between reality and dreamland. 

Your last coherent memory was Spencer sliding next to you, cuddling you to his chest, giving you a kiss good night, and his sweet murmurs of ‘I love you.’

My inbox is currently open for any more fluff requests! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[rationaliity]

reunion | dr ratio x gn. reader ( 18+ )

this is !! actually kinda cute !! best friends to lovers ! literally its not obvious that they want each other until two paragraphs before the sex, so.. sorry about that, teehee. but i just thought that the bickering was cute and i left subtle clues that they wanted each other. tags : finger-fucking, penetration, pretty vanilla sex, reader's intimate area is only described as a ' hole ', best friends to lovers, mutual pining, loving sex, missionary position. ratio is kind of ooc here but who cares its cute. word count : 3700 on the dot.

everyone has their natural opposite, someone that they involuntarily gravitate towards even though they're so very different. and for dr. ratio, that person who was his natural opposite, his twin flame, was you. you were his best friend, his closest companion, even though you could be.. unique sometimes. everyone within the intelligentsia guild knew your schedule by now, and that you would come down once every three months to spend a week with the guild and veritas, and, for those weeks, veritas would be the most alive that anyone would see him.

" veritas ! " you yelled, running down the ship runway towards the entrance of the intelligentsia guild ship, your luggage in your hands rolling behind you. " dear veritas ratio, i am here ! "

veritas arched an eyebrow, barely surprised at your enthusiastic greeting. he always wanted to maintain an air of indifference, but here he was, waiting for you at the end of the dock anyway. " always the dramatic one, " he says, feigning exasperation as he called out to you, " how delightful it is to see you again, despite the chaos you bring with you. "

you dropped your suitcase mid run as you bolted up to him, wrapping your arms around him and laughing, quite literally running into his arms. " how is my best friend ? how has the guild been treating you ? ah, these last three months have been quite the storm ! we simply must catch up soon, the moment i put my things away in my room ! also... me ? dramatic ? are you sure we're talking about the same person ? i have never been known to be dramatic in the slightest. "

you feigned hurt as you pulled away from him, dramatically clutching your chest as you overdramatized your words, " my dear veritas, you wound me with your accusations. i have never been known to dabble in theatre. i am always and will always be a very serious and put together individual. "

veritas suppressed a sigh, his hand instinctually coming to grab the small of your back as you pulled away from him, keeping you in his hold for a moment longer, although he looked away, pretending to be offended by unable to hide the warmth in his eyes. " you're not dramatic ? perhaps i have to reevaluate my accusations, " he chuckles lightly, meeting your gaze. " your room awaits you as always. "

your free hand reached up to his face, taking his chin in your hand as you tilted his head, examining him thoroughly. " you haven't been sleeping well, " you pointed out, your tone a mix between disappointment and worry. " has the guild been overworking you ? do you need me to have a word with your seniors ? you mustn't neglect your health, you know. you have dark circles under your eyes, and your eyeliner is smudged slightly. "

veritas paused, caught off guard with your concern for him, but ultimately brushing it off as inconsequential. after all, he was taking care of himself, just a little overworked right now. " thank you for your concern, but i assure you, i do not require coddling. however, i suppose i should pay attention to my appearance, for your sake. "

" perhaps you should ! definitely for my sake ! i would simply combust on the spot if i found out my dear veritas was being overworked ! what would i do if you had no energy to enduring my yapping ? what would i do if you could no longer ground me, and allowed me to run amok with all of my terribly genius ideas ? " you pulled away from him while you talked, reaching for your luggage that you had left behind, your mouth running pretty constantly now that you were in his presence again. " why, the world would be turned into a chaotic mess ! there would be no order, only me running around with enough glitter and balloons to send you into a heart attack !"

" as you can see, if you're tired, this is surely the future that will come true. you must keep yourself healthy, for the sake of the world, you see ! " you laughed as you walked with him inside of the intelligentsia guild, your voice echoing in the otherwise quiet hallways.

" i'm certain the world would crumble without me, " veritas agreed, unable to maintain his stoic demeanor amidst your infectious laughter, " an apocalypse brought by your hand.. quite the disastrous scenario. " he shook his head at your antics, subtly grabbing your suitcase from your fingers, although his gesture did not go unnoticed by you. " the universe needs me to prevent such a fate. "

as you walked, a few people nodded to the two of you, each one getting an excited wave from you, as if you were a puppy excited to see so many people you knew within the same area. a member greeted the two of them, breaking the unspoken rule, and unprepared for it. " ah, you're back within the guild ! " he greeted warmly, stopping the two of you in your tracks.

you smiled at him, your hands behind your back as you spoke. " yes ! i absolutely must bring some color to this monotonous guild ! it's a pleasure to be back, as always. however, at the moment, i'm spending some quality time with my dearest veritas, so i will have to cause mayhem around the guild another time. " your words stung, no matter how gently you spoke them. you always prioritized spending time with veritas above all else, even if that meant turning other people's attention down. after all, you only got to see him once every three months, you had to make this time count.

" o-oh ! my apologies, i'm sorry for the interruption, " the man sulked off, embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he left the two of you alone. veritas didn't say anything, already well aware of where your loyalties lay, although it didn't stop him from holding an air of pride within him.

" perhaps we can find a balance between your chaos and my order during his trip, " veritas suggested as you walked, giving you a playful nudge. he opened the door of your room for you, letting you walk in first. as you settled into the room, you collapsed onto the bed dramatically. this room had became your home away from home, a place that you felt truly comfortable in. meanwhile, veritas settled into a chair, crossing his legs, watching you with a discerning gaze.

" ah, it's so good to be home ! " you whined, pulling a pillow from the bed into your arms, snuggling with it against your chest. " i have been running around like a dog ! world after world, to every corner of the universe, it seems ! " you looked over to veritas, unable to hide your smile, although you were trying to act depressed. " but i suppose i can't be too mad at it, since i enjoy it. what about you, my dearest ? how are your students treating you ? have you been letting more than 3% graduate this year, or is your strictness the focus of the class still ? "

with your attention on him, he feigned sympathy for you, listening intently. his lips twitched into a smile at your dramatization, unable to resist poking fun at you. " oh, the hardships of exploring the universe. truly, a terrible fate, " he deadpans, his voice holding no hint of amusement, although you had gotten used to his dry humor by now. he leaned back, his voice holding a hint of his usual demeanor.

" my students always struggle to meet my expectations. however, a diligent student shall always prosper under my guidance. "

" ah ! perhaps i should take a visit during one of your lectures ? i could whip the students into shape, you never know ! " you teased, rolling onto your tummy, your arms folding underneath your head as you looked up at him, kicking your feet.

he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at your suggestion. " i fear your interference might only worsen matters. they wouldn't stand a chance against you, " he seemed to miss the spark in your eyes until it was too late. your hand reached out, gently grabbing his from his spot in his chair, pulling him until he stood up and got closer to the bed.

" sit, veritas, " you commanded gently, patting the bed with your free hand next to you. " you are far too away. " you picked yourself up to face him properly, on your knees on the edge of the bed as you pulled him into a brief hug, which he reciprocated almost immediately after a moment's hesitation. " i missed you, veritas. these last three months have made it feel like forever since i was back in the intelligentsia guild. "

veritas relaxed into your embrace, his arms curling around you, the tension in his body easing. " indeed, the last three months have dragged on without you. your absence is palpable in my life. i'm.. glad to have you back, even if only for a little while. " he pulled away from your hold, his eyes searching yours, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.

you couldn't help but laugh a little bit, your gaze soft as you admired your best friend. " ah, the great veritas ratio, renowned doctor and scholar of the cosmos, and yet, his best friend is not a scholar, nor a doctor, and i have only graduated once, unlike my dear veritas who's graduated over eight times. we are so different, and yet, he can't ever seem to shake me off of his tail. a pity, really, or is it ? i think i keep things interesting here. you would get bored if i wasn't here to occupy you, surely. "

" indeed, i find myself eternally cursed with your companionship, " veritas quipped, a note of fondness in the jest as his hand moved from your back to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb as he held the side of your face. you nuzzled into his touch almost immediately, your eyes closed. " a fate worse than death, no doubt. yet somehow, i survive. "

this is always how it goes: you make it back, and within the hour, the two of you trap yourselves in the bedroom to share in each other's presence to alleviate the stress of being away from one another for so long. both of you yield to the familiar routine, your bodies responding instinctively to the invitation. your world shrinks to the confines of the bedroom, to his arms, and to this moment.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering down to his lips as you looked at him, but you quickly looked back into his eyes, your words soft as you laughed. " ah ! consider me your own personal devil, keeping you forever by my side. "

you were just friends, right ?

so why were his lips on yours before you could recognize what was happening ? and why were you melting into the kiss, your arms keeping his body close to yours, your kiss deepening, his hands finding purchase on your hips, anchoring you to him. you reveled in the fire ignited by your passion, causing you to gently moan against his lips.

" ver-veritas- " you moaned out against his lips, your eyes fluttering closed as you allowed him to kiss you like this, a kiss that started off smooth and gentle, but got rougher as it progressed, more needy, more desperate. until your lips were sloppily smashed together, your hands grabbing at his vest, hands bunching up in the fabric. his robe slipped off of his shoulders and now hung lazily at his waist, just waiting for him to take his belt off so he could take it all off.

veritas took this time to grab you and push you onto your back on the bed, your legs spread willingly, inviting him closer. his assertiveness surprises you, but you welcome it wholeheartedly, the change in situations so swift that it threw you for a loop. had he seen you look at his lips so briefly ? what was getting into this man ? you did not take veritas for the kind of man to lose his control, and yet here he was, hovering on top of you, his body trapping yours.

he calls your name, his voice thick with emotion, betraying his usual persona. he gazes at you, his eyes mirroring his actions, the want in his eyes obvious. " i'm.. unable to escape you, indeed. but it's a gravitational pull that i find myself willingly falling into. you drive me mad. in ways i'm sure you find delightful. " his fingers trail down your sides, lingering on your hips, holding you firmly, his fingers digging into your body slightly. " let me have you. please. "

everything froze for you, and yet, you relented power to him, more than a little glad to be under his command. you were used to being the one in control during your day to day life - you're loud, commanding, and you have a million opinions that you need to voice. you were a chatterbox, and had a penchant for the love of doing stuff a little on the wild side.

there was only one person who could ever properly control you, properly tame you. he was veritas ratio, your best friend. you trusted him with your life, so you knew you were safe in his command. " mm- veritas, " you whispered softly, your fingers working on his vest, pulling it off of his body, your hands now roaming his naked torso, admiring the muscles underneath your fingertips. " you sure do know how to make a person want you, you know that ? " you teased, picking your head up from the pillow to trail kisses down his neck, " or perhaps, it's just me ? "

veritas' breath hitches, a hint of satisfaction coloring his tone. " its you, " he admitted, his hands working to undo his belt, letting his robes completely fall off of his body, the fabric being thrown onto the floor below you, before he started to work on your clothes, peeling off each layer with a haste that left you breathless. his hands roamed freely now, mapping your body with reverence.

" for tonight, you are mine, " veritas whispered, his proclamation of your body left in the air. " in every sense of the word. i want you, i want to lose myself in you. " he leaned down, each word punctuated by a kiss on your collarbone. " just as i've lost myself in countless debates and lectures, you are my focus. my obsession. "

you may be navigating new waters together, but it felt like a natural progression, the passion filling both of you up completely, pushing you past the brink. amidst the laughter and subtle flirtation, neither of you were even aware of the desires building up between the two of you until it spilled over. each touch, each whispered word, carried the weight of your connection. he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, relishing in the feel of your skin under his lips. " shall we proceed, or do you wish to draw this out further ? "

the two of you were completely naked now, your clothing long forgotten. you were reveling in the rushed, needy connection the two of you shared. you pulled him closer into another kiss, your hips bucking up into his hand as it hovered over your vulnerable hole. " you're the only one i want to do with with, veritas. please, you can.. take me, if you would like. please, touch me. " you pleaded, your voice cracking, showcasing the needy, desperate person underneath all of your confidence. now that you were done with the theatrics, your need for him was on display. you were striped bare, both physically and emotionally.

" please, " you whimpered, your hips bucking up again to meet his hand, hoping for just a little friction. " i need you to fuck me, veritas. i need to feel you inside of me. "

" how could i deny you ? " veritas whispered back, his breath hitched at your plea. he dipped a single digit into your warm and willing hole, his finger moving slowly at first, testing your readiness for him. then, he picked up the pace gradually, adding a second digit as he began a rhythm. you moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure as he finally gave you a taste of what you so desperately craved.

" please, " you urged once more, your pleas falling on receptive ears, although you weren't sure what you were asking for this time. yet, there's no rush in his movements, every caress of his calculated to heighten your desire further. your walls contracted around his fingers, so tight that it was hard for him to even thrust his finger inside of you, your body warm and inviting.

" your reactions make me.. greedy for more, " he admitted, his fingers deep inside of you, drawing another round of moans from you as you felt the familiar coil build up within your tummy. your heart pounds, synching with his rhythmic thrusts as he fucked your hole with his fingers. " you're ready for me, aren't you ? " veritas asked, his voice laced with expectation as you nodded helplessly.

you spread your legs for him willingly, pulling your knees up to your chest, giving him the perfect access to your body. " please, fuck me, veritas. " you begged, giving him enthusiastic consent to continue and pleasure you both, hissing as he withdrew his fingers. he positioned himself properly in between your legs, his gaze fixed on your face, as he guided himself into your hole.

you whimpered, your eyes rolling back as he entered you inch by inch, slowly penetrating you. his cock was so much bigger than your fingers, and it stretched you out as far as you could take it, your walls constricting around him, as if to milk his orgasm out of him immediately. " fuck..! fuck, you feel so good inside of me, veritas ! " you cried out.

veritas holds still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, fighting the urge to thrust wildly. " relax, darling, " he instructs, his voice firm but gentle, " let me ease into you properly. "

as he finally sheathes himself inside of you completely, you couldn't help but grab at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. " f-fuck- " you cried out, as his hips began a slow roll, each movement calculated, as if he were afraid of hurting you.

" control, veritas, " he whispered to himself as if he needed a reminder, his breath ragged, " don't lose control yet. "

your eyes followed the path of his body as his cock disappeared into you, and then resurfaced. veritas struggled to maintain control, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping them pressed against your chest and spread for him. " our bodies were made for each other, " veritas' possession of you was clear, and you didn't argue with him, knowing he was right.

each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body as you writhed underneath him, " you fill me up so, so nicely, veritas, " you gasped as he fucked you gently. you knew he was trying hard to control himself, desperate not to lose himself in you, but you had already long gave up control, and you wanted him to as well. " i-i want you to fuck me so hard i'm seeing stars, veritas. please, " you begged, moans slipping from your lips with every thrust of his.

veritas' breathing becomes erratic, your pleas for roughness seeping into his mind, breaking down his barriers. " oh, fuck- " he groans, his voice low and gruff, " what have you done to me ? " without warning, his hips piston faster, his movements becoming more forceful. you asked to be fucked stupid, and he's all too eager to oblige.

" fu-fuck..! just like that, veritas ! " you cried out, your body responding to his new pace, his thrusts becoming sharper. with each thrust inside of you, your moans grew louder, fueling your mutual desires. you felt the coil build up again, threatening to spill over at any moment. your entire body tensed at the prospect of an orgasm, your mind going hazy as you lost yourself in his body.

" does this satisfy you ? " he breaths against your skin, his voice laden with lust, as you nod eagerly, unable to manage a coherent sentence, " i'm almost there, please. just hold on a bit longer. " he could feel you nearing the precipice. your bodies move in sync, your connection electric as you adjusted to each other's needs, learning each other's bodies like you knew each other's minds.

" ready for me, darling ? " veritas leaned forward, spreading your legs further apart so he had access to your face, his lips pressing against yours in a sloppy kiss. " i'm so close- fuck- "

your body responded eagerly, your back arching towards him, and you whimpered against his lips, your mouth open to let him kiss you, drooling slightly. " i- i am too, veri- fill me up, make me yours..! " you couldn't hold on anymore, your orgasm exploding inside of you, causing you to moan helplessly against him, your bodies becoming one entirely. he couldn't control himself anymore, his hips meeting yours as his eyes shut for a moment, his jaw clenching, wanting to prolong this for as long as possible, but he couldn't hold it back anymore.

" i- fuck, " he growled, pulling out of you, his hand dropping from your thigh to his cock, stroking himself for a moment as he milked his orgasm out of himself, his cum splattering all over your stomach and chest, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, both of you finally coming back down from the high of being with each other in such an intimate way.

" ve-veri.. " you whispered a little, your legs dropping down, hurting from where they had been bent so far for so long. you both knew what this meant, and for the first time in a really long time, you were at a loss for words. you had no idea what to say to him, how to even approach the conversation that the two of you were going to undoubtedly need.

but somehow, you weren't worried. this was veritas, this felt natural. he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. " let's discuss it after our bath, no ? i believe we have a lot to talk about. "

sure. you could handle a bath with veritas.

[onyourhyuck]

Dirty Laundry. | H.RJ

— Prologue: “Did you put your dirty laundry into my laundry pile by any chance?”

— Summary: Where your germaphobic clean freak roommate Renjun finds your panties in his laundry pile one day.

— Genre: Smut smut smut. Sex on top of the washing machine(?) dormitory roommates. Sex in like almost public setting. Exhibitism. Dom!renjun. Rough sex (kinda). Back scratching. Cum-play. Bigdick!Renjun agenda. Angry sex. Renjun’s a neat freak. Clit overstimulation. Unprotected sex but pulls out to cum on Y/n’s face.

— Notes: Feeding the injeolmis today.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The dormitory you have been staying in for the past year and a half was a sharing compound building between other university students. Therefore everything was being shared other than your own bedroom. The kitchen was a large open space with a tv too so it was almost like an open space between two rooms. The bathroom was a shared area, it’s rather small and private. If anyone wants the toilet they have to fight for it to get in first if you want to use it so it’s a bit of a hazard war out there.

Moreover one more thing you and your roommates share and have to do was your own laundry in the downstairs room. It was out of your dormitory almost. In a way this room was very secular and just hollow. It has a bunch of washing machines and a long table in the middle to separate your clothes from the basket. Bunch of hanging pegs and a long string hung across a wall to the other where you can hang your clothes to dry too.

The dorm wasn’t so bad. At least you thought it wasn’t until you started to see the revealing signs of your roommates and their flaws that you start to notice about them after living for so long together. It’s natural to get nitpicky and annoyed with them. You try to mostly be civil.

But you know someone who doesn’t try to be civil at all even if it was a small or big deal. That someone is one of your many roommates.

Huang Renjun. He was a transfer student from China who got accepted into your university. You didn’t speak to him much for the next three years until he put up a sign that he needs roommates so they can split the bill together. He said he doesn’t care how many there are. As long as they split the bill and make it more affordable for him and the others. You were the first one to reach out.

That is how you and Renjun met. You like to think you’re not so different but that’s a little bit of a lie considering he is quite the opposite from you. You’re laid back and you prefer to not confront anyone even if it was a huge problem that should be spoke about. Renjun on the other hand is slightly less bothered about how the other person feels. He can come off as a bit nagging. He’s also a massive clean freak which makes everyone in the house a bit tense.

He doesn’t like how his roommates aren’t as clean as he thought they were going to be originally. Especially you.

Oh how wrong he was about you. You’re probably the messiest girl he’s ever encountered and Renjun was slightly shocked at first. When the beginning started you tried to hide how disoriented and disorganised you are and can be. So he didn’t quite catch on until later on few months have passed now and he came back to your room completely trashed. It genuinely looks like you haven’t cleaned it in like a century; it sounds exaggerated and dramatic but it is not. That’s how Renjun envisioned a room to be so dirty it wasn’t cleaned out in a century. When he saw your room you thought he would faint or something.

But that was months ago. Renjun managed to convince you to let him clean your room out and it took a few desperate ‘please’ tries to get you to say yes to him.

He cannot stand dirtiness. He cannot stand anyone’s life being that way so he would rather clean it out for them just so he could sleep peacefully tonight.

The boy even made out certainly laundry schedules for the roommates. He said only two people each day can wash their clothes on a certain day because then the clothes would get messy together and it would be a hectic week of organising clothes on which one is theirs. They agreed because it sounds like a smart plan actually. Renjun’s always a great thinker when it comes to chores and house work.

Today was yours and Renjun’s day to wash your clothes. You’re not surprised because when you came down you saw Renjun already putting the dark clothes on one side and the light clothes on the other side now. You wish you could say he did surprise you at all but it didn’t.

“Good you’re here.” Renjun said now as he noticed you coming inside the downstairs washing area. You let out a soft hum. “I didn’t forget this time.” You smirk sheepishly and tease him now a little. Last week you missed your washing day and Renjun had to lecture you now.

He said your clothes would smell out the entire house and honestly it lead to a slight mishapping argument with him. Although you quickly made up and said you’re going to do it on his day with him to make Renjun feel better.

Renjun rolls his eyes as he noticed you’re talking about last week incident and so he just didn’t say anything and continues to do his laundry by separating them. You start to run your hands through your clothes doing the same thing; putting the dark to one side and the lighter clothes to the other side. There was a momentarily silence as you both did this and you’re clearly focused on doing this before you can start doing another thing.

As you’re too busy with your own clothes, Renjun lifts his large white tee shirt putting it to the other side with the light clothes similar to the colour white too. He then scrunched his eyebrows when he saw a silky and lace fabric between his clothes. Renjun couldn’t tell what this was at first. He doesn’t own anything laced. His first expression went through all the grief stages. Renjun lifts it up with the prickle of his fingertips in the air. It was white lace panties and they are definitely yours because you’re the only girl in the dorm house.

Renjun’s eyebrows fell flat as he looks with slight discomfort. He wasn’t even sure if they’re clean or not clean. It didn’t even matter if they were clean because Renjun never touched another one’s underwear before and he didn’t once felt so embarrassed and confused until he is now.

How did they even get there?

He felt slightly perverted too. It’s not like he wanted to look at them. They happened to be in his pile of laundry and now he has to get your attention and give you your panties back.

He’s going to make you think the wrong idea too. He hates this. Renjun swears he’s going to have a word with you.

He walks over to you now with the panties in his hands. You turn around back so you could face Renjun. You wondered what he wanted from you and that is when he saw your round eyes resemble a ball of fire now when you were met with your panties.

Renjun clears his throat as he saw your cheeks heat up and he hates to admit it. You being embarrassed over this was making him even more uncomfortable and his heart was racing because of you.

You point at them. “What are you doing with my panties?” You exclaim now shocked.

“Did you put your dirty laundry into my laundry pile by any chance?” Renjun snaps slightly as he pushed the panties back into your hand. He feels very much embarrassed as much as you are right now.

You look at the panties he dives into your hand, your head turns back to Renjun. “I don’t remember mixing our laundry together, ever.” You now said back crossing your arms against your chest suspiciously at Renjun.

You’re now assuming he stole them. But Renjun would never ever do such a thing essentially because it involved touching another person’s clothes they wear. He’s too much of a neat freak to be able to do that. So now you’re just thinking he’s either playing it cooly off now or you probably were clumsy enough to drop your panties in his laundry pile last week.

Renjun scowls at your interrogation right now. What is this? Police detective that you’re playing at? It’s obviously clear you’re the problem here right now.

He slants his empty laundry basket now away on the side and put on the black clothes pile into the first washing machine while he puts the lighter clothes in the second washing machine to start washing them. “So you’re now saying it’s me who would steal your panties? Please Y/n who do you think I am.” Renjun said clearly offended you’d think of him such a way. You roll your eyes. “I seen you checking up my shorts before, don’t act so innocent.”

Your sudden words calling him out on his behaviour that he was so sure you weren’t in knowledge about made him stunned in front of you. He turns to you with his eyes slightly avoiding eye contact now and he cleared his voice.

It’s clear he tries to be as calm and composed. Renjun puts on an unbothered look on his face. “You must’ve imagined that, Y/n. Not everyone wants to fuck you just because you’re good looking.”

He mocks you slightly so he can make this a little more believable but you didn’t seem to fall for it especially after how he’s avoiding your gaze. You scoff now putting in your laundry in the other free two washing machines. The dark and light separate. You close the washing machine door and put in the time to start it.

“I didn’t say you wanted to fuck me though?” You smirk out now catching him say that.

“Renjun you’re a very bad liar.” You said with slight sarcasm now. You can’t believe he’s trying to just slide past this now.

Renjun frowns coming up behind your back now his hands on the sides of your body and when you turn around you’re very close to him. Still there’s slight distance between the both of you. But now his hands are on the sides of your washing machine. You look up at him raising your eyebrows in surprise. You weren’t expecting him to come forward like this but he did to make a proven point.

He wants to prove to you that he really didn’t stare at your ass that time and checked it out. When he did actually but he was never going to admit that to you or anyone else. It was a mistake as well. Renjun couldn’t help himself. It’s like his eyes were forced to look at you in that moment.

He swore he would never do something like that again however, it’s kind of ironic now, Renjun was gazing you down on your face. “If I’m such a bad liar then look me in the eyes and listen to me.” He said to you and you look at his eyes. They were beautiful. They remind you of a crescent moon.

You’re staring at his eyes now and he repeats firmly as if he was now saying it to convince himself too. “I did not check your ass out that time.”

Your face leans closer and your breath and voice became lower and deeper now which makes Renjun’s skin cover with goosebumps. He hates that you’re very much an attractive young woman. It’s so much more unfair because Renjun can’t seem to handle the closeness between you and now that you only leaned more close towards him — it makes Renjun unsteady and his voice felt like a hitching spike in his throat that couldn’t even be moved.

Your eyes tell him to not lie to you. It’s like you’re telling him to just admit it and move on knowing you were not buying it. No matter how much he tried to convince you it’s not going to work on you and what you saw. You’re pretty much convinced already by your own belief.

“Did you take my panties?” You now ask him trying to see if he actually did or not.

Renjun groans as you now asked him again. He told you that it couldn’t be him and that it’s probably your silly fault because you’re the most non-organised roommate he has. And that says a lot knowing he has Mark Lee living with him too. “I didn’t take your damn panties Y/n.”

You scoff. “Well what did they do in your pile then?” Renjun told you with his eyes, like a warning threat that if you keep on trying to leer him into your interrogations he would do something to shut you up.

Renjun has enough when you were about to speak again and say something that could really set him off the edge and so he grabs your face. The hands on the side of your face pushed you forward where your lips crash against his own mouth now. He kissed you a bit harshly, to make a proven point to shut you up. It did work very much because this has shocked you as much as you hate to admit it too; your roommate was a great kisser. You let out a soft groan against the kiss when Renjun switched your positions pushing your body up against the washing machine now that you are using. He didn’t break the kiss at all and so your lips were now in a fiery state of making out on top of a washing machine. He pushed and deepens the kiss when he told his head to go in a tilting motion. It made you sighing in a deep grasp.

You looked irresistible so he couldn’t help himself at all. Renjun dislikes it when he cannot control himself around you. You made everything so difficult. Maybe because you are a very difficult person to be around with, to live with all this time, but without you Renjun’s life would be very dull that’s for sure. You felt your body go into a frenzy lockdown now. Your hands were on the sides of the machine until you attach them on Renjun’s neck pulling him slightly closer so he was pressed between your legs now. Your tongue pushed out of Renjun’s mouth causing a long string of saliva connecting your two red mouths. It was a hot sight to see Renjun so riled up and breathing heavily too.

You lean your head on the side when Renjun’s eyes couldn’t leave your shirt that you’re wearing. He felt annoyed that you’re fully clothed for once. He wished you were slightly more revealing right now. So his hands made it obvious now that he stripped your shirt off and you could feel the cold air coming from the room hitting your warm body.

Renjun groans against your neck as his rough grazing mouth explodes around your soft skin. It felt like an explosion when he’s kissing you so harshly like he was almost punishing you for pushing him off the edge by not believing him.

You squirm in the position he has you in. The way his weight was pressing down on your body it very much leaves you anticipating what’s to happen next. Renjun saw you whining and squirming now because of his mouth attacking your neck like it was nothing. He didn’t say anything to you but let’s a cruel smirk shown.

Your evidence was proven right. Renjun was here to simply pushing you a little now. You couldn’t do anything about it and you didn’t want to. You enjoyed seeing Renjun look so pissed off. All this built up anger in Renjun it was a rare sight but somehow you managed to get it out of him. You love it. You get to see his eyebrows arch down at you there was not a single happiness in those eyebrows he’s doing with them. You didn’t care if he’s going to tear you apart as much as he can. You didn’t care as long as you get to see that burning rage behind his eyes that you caused him to have.

It’s like you’re asking for it.

The fingers brush along your zipper to your jeans and he slips it down along with your jeans off your ankles it leaves you with your panties now. Renjun’s hand cups your sex now and this ring finger brushed to your clit clothed behind your soft fabric panties. You let out a pleasant smile and a groan now that he touched you somewhere you could react to in a good moment.

He scowls when you’re looking like you enjoy this situation. You’re not meant to be enjoying this but he cannot help but get annoyed even more that you’re practically begging for him to give you what you want now. “You’re not meant to be enjoying this, Y/n,” You heard him say to you.

He pulls his hands away from your area between the legs and now you’re left stranded. You let out a whine. “Do you have to be upset at me?” You groan. “Did you or did you not steal my panties…” You now ask with a little smirk behind your frustration on the face.

Renjun raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re asking me again?” He lets out a scoff now that your asking him again with your suspicions and so the hands at his belt unbuckled it taking off the trousers down the waist. He lets his jeans fall to the ground now and he looks at you with a dark warning gaze that said you shouldn’t ask him such a question again. “I told you three times already that I didn’t. So why bother repeating it?” He now said clearly unbothered by replying to you once more.

You feel your panties taken off and you couldn’t help but position your hands behind as he now slams himself in very subtle. Your mouth drops shaped in a little wide open posture as you creep in your moans. You swallow the harsh air and you feel his length taking a good place in your womb making it it’s home. You hate to think about your roommate this way but you always wondered how big he was and now your answer was given.

“God I can’t believe I’m about to fuck you without a condom…” Renjun closed his eyes reassuring himself that you must be clean. At least he hopes so. You furrow your eyebrows now at him, reassuring him slowly.

“I’m clean Renjun. God. You and your neat obsession—“ Your voice was cut off.

“Just shut up and take it.” He vows now telling you to be quiet. He doesn’t want to hear another word of complaint from you.

He was freaking huge and thick. You couldn’t really imagine him being inside you now but he was very slowly earning a spot and living inside your walls. Each stroke was meant with the anger inside him and that made you fall deeper in the pleasure. The depths of his rage and annoyance you put him through not just today.

No. It wasn’t just today’s anger you’re giving him. It’ was all the anger you made him feel all these months living with you for so long. The pettiness you give. The messiness you make wherever you go. Renjun just feels his head remembering all the things he holds against you that you weren’t even aware that he held against.

The time you left your dirty dinner plate lying somewhere. You didn’t even bother to clean it? It pissed off Renjun. That was a month ago. He didn’t mention anything because he cleaned it for you. Obviously you wouldn’t clean it because if he told you to do it you’d reply with ‘Okay!’ And then forget again. He sometimes wonders if he’s your servant or if you’re just trying to get out of doing your chores.

He groans now that he slams himself even deeper. The thrusts became cruel and aggressive. You hung your desperate expression against your palm. Your one arm was positioned behind on the washing machine so when you move your hips against the cruel countering and dangerous thrusts you can’t help but bury your moan in your palm hoping it doesn’t explode out like a combustion. Your droopy eyes were like a comet to Renjun.

They fell down on earth for him when he was deeply thrusting and pushing in and out of your direction to your pussy. His dick made you feel a lot more than just pleasure. They made you associate yourself with how much you trouble Renjun and you can’t help but feel like your pressure was going haywire.

He angrily leans forward now capturing your mouth with his. He kissed you hungrily while he keeps thrusting in and out of you way more quicker now than before and it caused you to break the kiss with your panting voice.

“F-fuck… Renjun…” You weren’t supposed to be enjoying this but your insides were squeezing so tight you feel your stomach sucking in. He was kneading inside you like you’re a folding bread that he was making from the compounds.

You’re like a toy that was broken up into pieces by Renjun and then fixed up brand new. It felt like this with his enlarge hands on your hips pushing you forward now even more as you’re on top of the washing machine spread like a statue just for him, just for Renjun.

It was a public setting too which was completely out of your idea until now. Renjun didn’t seem to care too much. He was too focused on your beautiful face looking so fucked out when he’s ramming inside you non-stop in your insides and with each squeeze you’re milking him to his climax.

He wasn’t being the kindest to you. As much as this was very intimate with him and he held your body close so he could devour your insides like the next Hanging Babylon. When Renjun wanted to torture you some more he rushed his free hand over your clit and rubbed it in a flicking motion with all his fingers as he keeps thrusting into you at the same time; Renjun’s multitasking to have you coming undone. It’s like punishment for you.

You moan helplessly out now. Your moans were coming off as a desperate wail.

Punishment for being a nightmare to live with. But as much as you’re a nightmare and a complete health hazard to share a home with. He was thankful for you in some ways. You’re not thoughtful for other’s space. You’re clingy when you’re bored. You break things. You’re clumsy. You are the messiest person on earth. Yet he wouldn’t swap you for someone else even if it meant the world was ending.

Maybe he grew attached to you. Maybe he was feeling something for you nowadays.

Your hands were scratching underneath his shirt that he has on, running down the smooth soft and olive-like back he has. Renjun let’s out sweet groans close to your ears as you did this action. He seem to be in heaven when your fingers crossed his skin. It felt like magic you’re doing to him.

“I’m so close.” You bite your bottom lip as your head pressed against his chest when Renjun came closer now and starts to look you in the eyes as you’re standing on the very tip of the cliff now.

He stood with you there because he, himself, was very close now to his own climax and Renjun frowns when each thrust brought him closer. “I’m going to pull out.” He warns and when he did suddenly pull out Renjun made sure to get you your orgasm. He can be nice you see?

He brushed his fingers inside your pulsing walls and he managed to finger you to your nearest orgasm. He loves seeing you squirm against his hands now because it shows how good he’s making you feel. Renjun feels almost proud when he saw your orgasm and he feels it reaching his fingers.

It was a bit messy for his liking but maybe he likes seeing you become a mess when it’s him doing it to you. Only a little.

You slowly regain your concentration and you slide off the washing machine as you go on your knees now. You suddenly wrap your hands around his hard twitching cock that’s begging to have its own climax now and you’re here to delivery that.

Renjun’s eyes darken as he saw you on your knees looking so pretty with your trembling legs because you just had a massive orgasm; however it’s not fair that you’re the one orgasming and he couldn’t. You should return the favour. Your hands stroke his cock up and down and it didn’t take long to have Renjun groaning.

You feel his member twitch in your hand and then the liquid came out all over your mouth and face. You let it drip down a little and you didn’t mind it. You prefer it messy anyways. You feel the warmth emitting on your skin and you take a lick and wipe yourself once he was done with a silent groan as you pushed him to his orgasm.

To you he looks like the most dreamy guy. He shut his eyes for a little before regaining his sight back and he pulls away to take a deep breath.

You move your sinewy back to the nearest wall and slowly start to pull your panties up and your jeans. You seen Renjun doing the same as he pulls his trousers up to his waist now and you can’t help but have a smirk.

“I remembered now.” You exclaim with your mischievous eyes. He looks at you raising an eyebrow wondering what did you remember?

“What is it?” Renjun said with a confused expression.

You smirk. “I dropped my panties in your laundry pile when I was walking back to my room after laundry.” You announced with a little laugh.

You guess you really are a messy roommate. And Renjun was right.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this Fic and Follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

[jenctrl]

my little scrump*ೃ༄

"despite being across the world and miles apart, the canine is always there for her feline, especially when she's sick and grumpy, truly acting like her little scrump."

warning; from the blackcat!Y/n series, the parts don't need to be read in order!

“Stop being stubborn and lay down in bed,” Chaewon argued, making a meek attempt at trying to pull Y/n off of the stool the girl was sitting on. However, the feline’s arm slipped right past her grip and all she got was a grunt of disapproval. 

Y/n wasn’t talking to Chaewon.

The older couldn’t figure out if it was because she was still sick with the flu or if it was because she got the flu from Chaewon. Could it be because they were missing their group schedule in America? Or because something or someone wasn’t here. Y/n had always been impossible to read, well, not to one person. 

She had become aware that Y/n turned whiny and reasoned like a five-year-old when she was sick though. 

Chaewon had a toddler on her hands. 

She squinted her eyes, leaning her weight onto Y/n’s desk as she wasn’t sitting far from it. The feline was focused on the canvas in front of her that was on its stand. There was a faint, barely there, scent of oil paint lingering in the girl’s room. 

Chaewon had spent her whole flu in bed and gotten better quickly with a few symptoms lingering. She wasn’t sure how Y/n was able to even sit up on the stool without toppling over, however she could see the small shivers run along her body. The feline was sitting with her knees hugged to her chest, in sweats and a t-shirt. 

Her stubbornness was driving Chaewon crazy; Y/n was refusing to take medicine, she didn’t want to rest and simply wasn’t doing anything she should be doing, but rather the opposite. The leader scratched at the side of her neck while staring intensely at the girl who was clearing her throat and sniffling. 

She pushed herself up and made it over to the girl’s bed to get her phone; there was one person who knew how to handle Y/n.

Y/n blinked her sore eyes as her night had been uncomfortable and she could feel herself slipping to sleep. The past few days she had felt empty as she had been isolated and she wouldn’t have minded. She had always enjoyed being alone, but it was different now that a sun had appeared in her small empty world and suddenly it was dramatically yanked away and thrown across the world. 

It wasn’t as dramatic, but it could as well be.

She tilted her head, ignoring Chaewon who walked out of the room, assuming that the older girl gave up on trying to make her get better. Her eyes scanned the painting which grew duller the longer she looked at it. It felt like grey clouds were covering the whole sky and she shivered at the cold that ran over her sore muscles. 

It was clear that something was lacking and nothing ever lacked in Y/n’s life; that’s what she told herself at least. She would hate to admit that she needed someone else but herself. 

“This one is gonna be huge on her.” Chaewon widened her eyes at the hoodie she pulled out, thinking about Y/n’s tall yet petite frame. She still threw the hoodie over her shoulder, the feline rarely wore hoodies and a cardigan or sweater didn’t seem like a cosy enough option in the latter’s opinion. 

“The bigger the hoodie the better,” Yunjin commented as she watched Chaewon stand back up after rummaging through her wardrobe for the specific black hoodie she knew Y/n liked. It was Yunjin’s favourite too, but she left it behind for the feline.

Chaewon did not have the patience nor knowledge to take care of the younger girl and so her last resort was the girl across the world. It was early morning on the other end and midnight was approaching in Seoul and the leader hadn’t succeeded with anything the whole day.

Now that Yunjin was awake she could help. 

“She’s literally about to turn 20, I feel like I’m taking care of a toddler.” She still complained as Y/n’s demeanour did a whole 180 the second she got sick. It was unlike the girl and it left her worried, but also in shambles as she had tried everything. 

“Do you want my help or not?” She questioned, however, Yunjin wouldn’t hang up until she knew that Y/n was all fine and asleep. It was already hard enough for the canine to fall asleep and then sleep through the whole night knowing that Y/n was sick on the other end of the world and suffering through her day without Yunjin being there to take care of her like she always did. 

“What’s with all this casual talk to me?”

“My bad bro.” 

“Okay well, that didn’t make it better–” Chaewon pointed out with a frown, seeing that America was already back in Yunjin’s system. She sighed, “What more?”

“The Scrump plush, she forgot it on my bed.” She sang out, resting her chin in her palm as she patiently, more so impatiently, waited for Chaewon to get the stuff and hand the phone over to Y/n. She wanted to talk with her and make sure she was fine. 

Chaewon scanned Yunjin’s bed and grabbed the scrump plushie whose head was on the pillow. With everything in hand, she made her way towards the door to get back to Y/n’s room downstairs.

“She doesn’t want to take her medicine.” She pointed out.

Yunjin frowned, over the past few years of knowing Y/n she knew her like the back of her hand, well, there were still things she was learning about her. Y/n was and always would be somewhat of a mystery. Whenever the girl was sick she took it upon herself to take care of her even if every manager advised against it; Yunjin would rather get sick than not take care of Y/n. 

“It’s anxiety-inducing, she doesn’t like taking it, but if you mix it with something–”

“I am not doing that.” Chaewon cut her off and stopped at the stairs to look down at the Facetime call with a frown. The two stared at each other in a second-long silence. 

“Then she won't take it.” Yunjin huffed out in frustration, mimicking Chaewon’s frown but a lot more seriously. “And I’m not there to take care of her either. They didn’t let me stay.” She continued as she wanted to stay behind for a few days, but obviously, that wouldn’t have worked out. Her lower lip jutted out as the corners of her mouth went down at the sadness she felt of being away from Y/n. 

It wasn’t the same, the nights were empty without a moon in the sky. 

“Because we have a group schedule.” The leader mumbled as she continued to make it down the stairs, ignoring Yunjin’s sad and devastated face; looking like a puppy kicked to the curb. 

“Has she eaten yet?”

“No.”

The loud gasp from the girl on the other end resonated through the whole hallway. It was almost midnight in Seoul and Y/n had yet to eat. 

“I tried to have her eat something but she says she has no appetite.”

“Because she needs her medicine first with something little to eat to get the fever down and then her appetite will be back.” The canine argued, feeling her heart rate spike up in worry at the information she was receiving from Chaewon. It was enough that they could barely talk because of the time difference and that they were miles apart, but now she was hearing that Y/n was not managing at all.

“Yunjin.” 

“You just need to make toast with jam, but mix the powder with the jam.” Chaewon groaned at Yunjin’s demanding yet pleading voice that quivered the slightest. It left her no choice as it looked like the girl on the other end wouldn’t stop whining about it and she needed to feed the second youngest member in the end. 

Chaewon stopped for a second as she entered the room, seeing that the feline was barely sitting on the stool at this point. Her cheek pressed against her knees as her one eye was closed and she meekly used the brush against the canvas. 

Y/n heaved a sigh and looked away from the painting and at the older girl who made it over to her. “Being stubborn and grumpy won’t get you better.” Before she could reply the brush was removed from her hold and Chaewon placed it off to the side together with the rest of the things, Yunjin on the call included. 

She didn’t have the energy to argue as her hands were wiped off of any possible paint with the damp rag. It didn’t register in her head when everything suddenly went black and then the light came back; a hoodie now draped over her body. It made Y/n shiver, but in a good way at the comforting warmth and most importantly the scent it carried. Things started to feel like home for the feline.

“Come on, get up.” She was ordered and groaned in response, however, she allowed Chaewon to pull her off of the stool. Her tired eyes looked down at the plush that was placed in her hold and next followed Chaewon’s phone. 

The older girl guided Y/n over to the bed before leaving as the younger was being entertained by Yunjin. 

“You really are my little Scrump, acting like you only have six days left with how sad you look,” Yunjin commented, unable to hide her smile, making her pull the collar of her shirt to make it more subtle. Her eyes roamed Y/n’s face on the screen which became a blur when the girl manoeuvred around to make herself comfortable.

“You could pass as Scrump.” The canine laughed, teasing the sick girl. 

Y/n huffed, her eyes squinting the slightest at Yunjin as she finally lay on her stomach, resting her chin on the scrump plushie. “Are you comparing a sick person to Scrump?” The feline bitterly asked and got a nod in return. 

“I want to see you two side by side–” Yunjin started and looked at Y/n who didn’t budge. “Please?” She added with a small pout and the younger girl groaned in annoyance, her voice a slight rasp. 

Suddenly everything seemed less gloomy; Y/n’s sky was starting to clear up from the dark clouds while Yunjin’s nights had their moon back

Yunjin laughed as Y/n and Scrump were side by side; the girl’s messy hair from the hoodie took away from how serious she was. The baby hairs that stood up at the top of her head made her resemble the plushie even more. 

“Yunjin–” Y/n whined, seeing the screenshot Yunjin took which made her put the plushie down with a frown. 

“I needed a new phone background.” The feline rolled her eyes and settled her cheek against Scrump’s head, making Yunjin tilt her head at how it squished Y/n’s cheek. She took a screenshot with her memory this time to not further stir the already whiny girl. She was aware that even if Y/n would never admit it out loud she loved being doted on and babied when she was sick. 

Yunjin would always do it even if they were worlds apart; she’d do everything and anything to take care of Y/n and make sure she was fine. The same way Y/n did even if she didn’t say that she did; Yunjin felt cared for. That was more than being told that she was cared for. To just know. 

“You’re just staring,” Y/n mumbled, her eyes half open as she stared right back at Yunjin who she had silently watched move around the hotel room. The older girl’s eyes still constantly glanced over at Y/n until she was sat in an armchair and could have all her attention on her. 

“I miss you and looking at you and being with you and just you. The rest are getting annoying to look at.” Yunjin replied, her ginger strands falling over her shoulders as she stared down at the phone with a small smile that made her eyes crease and heat run to her cheeks. She couldn’t get enough of the girl, but she wouldn’t tell Y/n how cute she found her at the moment. 

It made a want grow in her; to take the girl and squish her out of love. 

She’d do it the second Y/n and Chaewon would land in Los Angeles to resume their schedule with them.

Yunjin’s eyes laid on Y/n with a fondness in them, one that made the girl forget everything even being sick. However, Yunjin was more than just a distraction for Y/n. She had somehow turned everything Y/n always wanted to be distracted from into something she no longer minded; Huh Yunjin made life bearable for Oh Y/n. 

“You will get annoyed by me too at some point.” Yet specks of gloom would grain Y/n’s view, but it was never for long with Yunjin there. The feline hummed grainily, still sick albeit distracted from it, her body slowly melting into the mattress. 

She’s heard people judge the girl, she’s seen how hard Y/n had it; being dubbed as hard to deal with and put up with; a stuck-up outcast. To Yunjin she was necessary; she was the moon that pulled her tide. 

She didn’t need the rest to know it though, to know Y/n’s worth and the person that she was; she only needed Y/n to know it. She would always reassure Y/n, she would never get tired of it, never get tired of her feline. 

“The only thing I will get annoyed by is you not being with me.” Her eyes squinted, one a bit more than the other until she closed one fully to inspect Y/n even closer. “Is it wrong to miss you? We can barely even talk because of the time difference.” She sighed, opening her eyes and jutting out her lower lip with a tilt of her head.

“No–” Y/n halted in her words and stared back at Yunjin, her frown still present and she at last relaxed and slumped fully into her bed. She hugged the plush closer to herself while still resting on it, blinking as she felt the words forcibly pushing up her throat, making her purse her lips in an attempt to stop them. Yunjin made it impossible though. “It's annoying because I miss you too.” The feline let out annoyed. 

Yunjin let out a breathless chuckle at the words, deciding to leave them at that to not test her luck. It did spark up her insides and make her feel warm; Y/n always made her feel better and she only wanted to do the same. 

“I’ve heard that smiling is a powerful medicine.” There was still one thing she wanted to do and it was to make her Scrump smile. 

“Well, clearly you haven’t studied medicine.” The canine rolled her eyes at the reply while Y/n looked at her unimpressed. 

“I don’t have to study it to know that seeing you smile makes me feel better and that it makes me smile and then it will make you feel better when I smile, Scrump.” 

Y/n raised her eyebrows at the girl’s reasoning, refusing to smile at the light-hearted words that were nothing more than silly yet meaningful. Her eyes observed Yunjin who moved around, propping the phone up to stand on its own.

“Like this…” The latter closed one eye for better accuracy while using her fingers to try and lift the corners of Y/n’s lips. It was like magic; Yunjin smiled bigger as Y/n tried to hide her face in her shoulder only to peek up and not be able to hold back the smile that tugged on her lips at what the girl on the other end was doing. 

The smile was too big for Y/n’s liking, especially over such silly gestures, but the simplest things from Yunjin did that to her.

“You’re so stupid.” She grumbled and let the phone drop face down just as the door opened. 

“Bro, pick me up!” Y/n ignored Yunjin’s complaints and turned onto her back, propping herself up against the pillows resting against the headboard. 

“Could you please eat this?”

“I guess I could,” Y/n replied, taking the plate from her leader as Yunjin’s whining about being picked up continued. Finally, after hours uttering a word to the other girl.

“Is she being annoying?” Chaewon questioned, unsure if she should pick up her phone, hearing the girl on the other end click her tongue at the question.

“She even called me bro. America is getting to her head.” 

“Hey!” Y/n rolled her eyes at how loud Yunjin managed to be even through the phone, eating the toast she was served. The older girl slumped down beside Y/n and took her phone at last, flipping it over and the first thing she received was a stank face which made her do one in return.

“Why are you acting like I threw you away?”

“Could I get Y/n on the phone, please?” The canine discarded Chaewon’s question, catching a glimpse of Y/n’s head that rested against the leader's shoulder. 

“She’s eating.” 

“I wanna watch.” 

“I’m not a tripod.”

“You could serve as one for now.” 

“No.”

“Ok then give her the phone so she can hold it and you feed her.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“I don’t think I want to have kids in the future anymore,” Chaewon grumbled as she accepted the ridiculousness of Yunjin’s request. It did let her make sure that Y/n ate everything. 

She realised how much Yunjin spoiled the girl but what baffled her the most was that Y/n allowed Yunjin to spoil her and didn’t argue about it like she did with everyone else. The girl didn’t shut her out nor did she turn a cold shoulder. Not being there to do it, she did it through the leader. Always finding a way for Y/n.

“You’d be a good mother.” Y/n tiredly mumbled, starting to feel better, subtly stretching her limbs and wordlessly seeking for comfort that she got from Chaewon who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It let her snuggle up to her with her head on her chest, eyes growing heavy.

“Since when are you nice to me?”

“Since always.” The feline replied, her eyes barely open as Yunjin was still on the phone, now getting ready for the schedule they had today. She was still not tired of talking endlessly as Y/n quietly listened the way she always did; Chaewon doing most of the talking with the latter.

“You were just a pain in the ass a second ago.” Y/n huffed at the words as Chaewon patted her head before running her fingers through the black strands.

“Okay well actually, do maybe reconsider becoming a mother.” Chaewon rolled her eyes, looking down at the phone with feigned bitterness as Yunjin was giggling.

“Please Yunjin, talk to her until she passes out.” 

Yunjin happily did, talking until both of them fell asleep. 

[gtgbabie0]

‘I love you’

{Spencer can’t sleep without saying I love you, no matter how mad you are with each other}

Hope you enjoy as always my lovelies! 💕

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You both shouldn’t have gotten so mad over such a trivial thing, though you suppose it’s been building up for a while now, the lack of communication, the missed dates and whatnot. In all honesty, you couldn’t even remember why you were initially mad at him and now that you’re laying in bed with a tear-stained pillow beneath you, it seems all so pointless.

Arguments are bound to happen in relationships. Two people aren’t always going to see eye to eye, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. A part of you is expecting him to apologise and the other half of you is trying to come up with an apology yourself, but nothing happens. Spencer stays in the living room to give you some space and you’re left to simmer with your thoughts.

He was late again tonight, it seemed like your schedules did nothing but clash for weeks and the distance was slowly eating at you until you finally snapped. You’d also blame your own work stress for the anger that pinches at your skin, the same anger that only fuelled tonight’s argument.

Spencer hates it, hates the silence that comes afterwards, albeit arguments between you two were few and far between it still had the same effect on him, the odd sinking feeling that hits his stomach.

You both should just apologise and talk about it like adults, but yet you’re both stubborn in your own rights, and so neither of you do. Instead, you fall asleep alone with a heavy heart, and Spencer creeps into the room hours after with an ache in his chest.

He notices the dampness on your pillow from your tears and it only makes that dull ache in his chest hurt all the more, he gently pushes your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear as he sighs at the tear stains that paint your face, even in sleep you look sad.

You wake up as he climbs into bed, and you make no effort to let him know, in fact, you’re pretty sure he knows you’re awake when he starts drawing patterns on your back with his finger.

You frown softly as you try to figure out what he’s doing. You're about to turn around and complain, and then you feel it. He gently traces the words ‘I love you’ into your skin, fingers grazing along your spine. You feel him shuffle closer to you, and his lips press gently onto your shoulder, then the soft words, “I’m sorry” leave his lips, and you can feel the guilt drown you.

You turn around, noticing how the tears in his eyes glisten under the warm light of the lamp and you don’t think twice before reaching out and wiping them away, he sighs at your touch.

“You don’t have to apologise, I blew things way out of proportion” you admit. Spencer shakes his head, noticing how you don’t make eye contact with him, and so he holds your hand, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“You had every right to be mad, and we both blew things way out of proportion” he reasons, not liking the sigh that leaves your lips as if you didn’t believe his words. His eyebrows furrow slightly watching the tears collect in your eyes.

The root of your sudden argument was really because were both so tired and missed each other’s touch, which in retrospect should’ve had the opposite effect of what happened tonight, but emotions are a tricky thing,

So that’s why you don’t pull away when Spencer opens his arms out to you, pulling the blanket over the pair of you as you settle against him. “I’m sorry,” you say, his chin resting gently on top of your head as his hand soothes your back.

He presses a kiss to your hairline as you mumble, “And, I love you too” He smiles when your hands dip underneath his shirt, a desperate need of his warmth, you just needed to feel him.

“I love you more” he smiles, his arms squeezing you just a little tighter against him, tight enough to make you giggle, a sound Spencer swears could cure all of his ills.

There's a silence that drapes over the pair of you, and it's not like before it's different Spencer thinks, much more comfortable as he listens to your breathing.

You look up at him, and he catches onto the exhaustion that stains your face, before you can say anything he's already speaking, "You're tired. Get some sleep and we'll talk tomorrow, over breakfast, yeah?" he smiles leaning down to press one last gentle kiss to your forehead, and you would be lying if you said the idea of breakfast with Spencer didn't make you feel a little giddy.

So you whisper a quiet 'Okay' before drifting off in his arms. and you both make a silent promise to talk about it tomorrow, like adults.

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[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 3

Masterlist taglist

Hard conversations and 1st meal with the Omegas.

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl

There was one open seat left in the living room. An oversized, overstuffed chair. I moved around the others, not missing the way they leaned towards me to sniff as I passed by. I wanted to hug myself and hide. It was very weird to be sniffed so openly.

Felix sat close to Chan, still not looking up. Chan had an arm over his lap.

“Anyone here not completely convinced y/n is their Alpha? Our Alpha?” Chan asked.

I looked around the room, no one spoke up or raised their hand.

"None of the other Alphas even came close to smelling like her. My instincts are going crazy right now.” Hyunjin confirmed.

"Hey Chan.” I spoke saccharine sweet.

“Yeah?” He replied.

“I hate you.”

"No, you don’t. You’re just being dramatic.”

"My life is over! I’m allowed to be dramatic!

Chan just rolled his eyes, ignoring my entire fucking crisis. I wanted to scream, cry, and punch him all at the same time.

"Hyung, you said you were going to explain.” Changbin reminded.

And so, Chan went on to tell everyone all about his quick trip to my small town and the deal that was made. It occurred to me that I never planned beyond the week. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be the one to be able to bond with them. So, I made no plans on what to do next. If I should do anything.

“So, you’re not going to bond us?” Seungmin asked when Chan was finished.

They were all looking at me again, making me feel incredibly self-conscious. “I didn’t plan on this actually working.” I was the only response I would truly, honestly give them. I didn’t know what to do now.

"She is going to be here for the week. No one is going to bug or pressure her to stay beyond that.” Chan warned. “Let JYP and I discuss it with her.”

And I’m sure there will be a lot of discussions. A lot of promises made. Guilt trips. I would get it all.

"So, nothing’s been solved. We are still just as screwed as ever.” Lee Know sounded angry and I looked at my lap knowing this was all because of me.

I stood up. “Maybe I should go-“ I pointed a thumb at the door.

“No!” The response was immediate and from every Omega in the room, making me blink.

Han reached and grabbed my forearm. “You promised a week.” He reminded. His chemo signals smelled of anxiety and fear.

“To a hotel. I was going to say to a hotel.” I finished. I had meant to suggest the hotel to give them time to discuss this without me.

“We can’t guarantee no one will smell your subgender in a hotel. It’s not safe.” Cahn reminded gently.

I let my head fall back before I dropped into a crouched ball and hid my face in my knees and arms, tears threatening behind my eyes. Everything was so messed up now.

I felt someone crouch next to me and start to rub my back, but I didn’t look to see who.

"You guys know how dangerous it can be for an Alpha nowadays.” Chan started talking again, softly. “We have heard horror stories from almost every Alpha we’ve tried. y/n has been hiding her subgender with suppressants. Even coming here is a huge risk for her. Let’s all keep that in mind.”

There was a heavy thump on my upper arm that I assumed was the person rubbing my back resting their forehead on me. The contacts made me feel better.

They showed me to what appeared to be a guest bedroom. There were faint scents of other Alphas so this must have been made up specifically for potential bonding Alphas. It even has its own bathroom. It just reminded me again what I am really here for.

I sighed and bid them goodnight, shutting the door with no plans to actually sleep. I was on an opposite sleep schedule then them. And I slept on the plane not too long ago.

By the end of the week, I’ll be on the same sleep schedule as them, only to go home and repeat the whole process all over again.

Instead, I stripped off my clothes and ran a nice hot bath. Grabbing my phone and a book I brought I slowly settled into the water, hoping for a relaxing time reading and doom scrolling to pass the night.

I did manage a few hours of sleep near dawn. Hopefully enough to get me through the day. I was awake and dressed for the day when Chan knocked on my door. I bid him enter.

“Um, breakfast is ready.” He informed. He looked unsure.

I nodded. “I’ll be right out.” I needed a moment to gather the strength and courage to face everyone again. My dream of meeting Stray Kids has turned into a nightmare.

But instead of leaving, Chan stepped in and shut the door. I watched him in question.

"I wanted to apologize for last night. Things did not go like any of us planned.”

I snorted softly. That was an understatement. “It’s fine, Chan. I just-I don’t know what to do now.” I admitted.

He smiled sadly and nodded. “Well, you have all week to figure it out. In the meantime, just enjoy your time here.”

I followed Chan out to the table where everyone was sitting in varying stages of being awake. I sat at an empty chair between Seungmin and I.N, noticing no one had started eating yet. I wondered what they were waiting on.

When I was settled I.N started putting food on my plate for me. Heavy on all the best stuff. Then he sat back, and everyone looked at me. I blinked not knowing what they wanted.

“You have to start eating.” Han whispered helpfully from across the table.

“Why?” I whispered back. I was the only one with food, it would be rude to eat in front of them.

“You’re Alpha.” He said it like that explained everything.

“It’s an instinct thing. Just take a bite.” Seungmin sounded exasperated with the whole thing.

So, I picked up my chopsticks and took a bite. As soon as I did, they flurried into motion, filling their own plate and eating. Then I realized what happened. It finally clicked into place.

Their Omega instincts wouldn’t let them start eating until their freaking Alpha did. I felt sick to my stomach suddenly and set my chopsticks down.

I stayed at the table only because if I left it would have upset them, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat another bite. If any of them noticed, they didn’t bring it up. Instead, they talked amongst themselves, pretty much ignoring me entirely now that I did what they needed.

Slowly they all finished and left the table to start their day, leaving the dishes, leftovers, and me alone at the table. My eyes pricked with tears again as I started to gather dishes to clean up.

This is what they expected from their Alpha. Follow them around the world, take care of them, clean up after them, fulfill their instinctual needs. If I stayed, that’s what I had to look forward to at “home”. Meanwhile, their managers would shape me into the idol Alpha that can be seen with Stay Kids and make them money.

I put away the food, did the dishes, wiped the table, and swept the floor all in silence. While I did, I could hear the 8 Omegas going about their day. A small group was in the living room playing games. Some were in their rooms; doors open but doing their own thing. They were loud, yelling at each other from different rooms. Chaotic as they enjoyed their days.

With nothing else to do I set up my laptop at the table, put some headphones in, and logged into work. I would get an email from my boss later since I was supposed to be on vacation, but it was after hours back home, so he wouldn’t know for hours yet, and I needed a distraction.

There wasn’t so much a lunch as people made something to eat when they were hungry, so I was spared being used as an Alpha for the moment. I had a feeling dinner would not be the same story.

Not even one of them spoke to me all day. Ignored my presence as if I was a lamp or coffee table, only interacting with me when they needed me.

“You’re stinking up the room.” Lee Know complained as I.N filled up my dinner plate.

I had been in my own depressing thoughts as I stared at my plate. Instead of answering him I took a bite of food and chewed as they all loaded their dishes.

I was once again left with clean up.

As I was washing dishes, the doorbell rang. Assuming someone would get it, I kept washing. The bell rang again a minute later.

“Someone get the door!” Seungmin yelled.

I sighed as I dried my hands as I walked over to the door. It was JYP. “Chans in the living room.” I informed him as I went back to the dishes.

But he followed me instead. “They already have you doing chores, huh?” He joked.

I tried to smile, but my lips wobbled dangerously so I quickly looked away, back to the dishes. “Just doing my job. An Alpha takes care of their Omegas. Even prospective ones. However temporary.”

That’s right. This was only for the promised week. I didn’t have to stay. They weren’t my Omegas. 1 week, and my end of the bargain was fulfilled. Just play their game.

Since I was avoiding looking up from the dishes, I was startled when JYPs hand entered my vision, gently taking the sponge. I looked over. He had rolled his sleeves up to the elbows.

“Let me help. You can dry.” He said gently.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb

[thorougly-melted-brains]

Ghost keeps a clean house. Soap knows this is true for his pack, his office, his room, and—to all assumptions—his apartment.

The circumstances of how Soap got there are too jumbled with the high of a mission and the drop of mandated time off. He didn’t want to take time off, neither did Ghost.

He can’t quite remember which one of them fumbled through the offer to stick together- only to maintain their schedules, of course. They still had additional reports and inventory to do, it was only tactical.

So now here he stands, in Ghost’s wholly spartan apartment. It’s been stripped of all charm and frivolity not painted on the walls or molded into the quaintly patterned glass by the front door. It’s not intentionally devoid of comfort- Ghost may be many things, but even he didn’t go out of his way to live without small comforts. There’s an old but soft couch, rugs and mats placed around the doors, and even lamps to offset the harsh over-heads.

The most curious thing, the one that really catches Soaps eyes, is the only visible adornment, quilts.

Great, sprawling tiled blankets (tapestries?) are hung from most of the walls. There’s one draped over the back of the sofa, tucked into the seat of the solitary plush chair. There’s smaller, flat pillows on the few chairs in the kitchen. There’s even placemats on the table. All colored with swirls of vibrant linen in dazzling patterns.

Ghost catches him staring as he leads them through his space (They decided on his apartment, given Soap’s was a bachelor pad, while Ghost had a guest room).

“My mum used to quilt.” Ghost says cryptically, and snags the pack off Soap’s shoulder while he’s still too busy gawking to protest.

Later, after they’ve showered off their travel and eaten something not wrapped in plastic and some amount of mud, Soap tries to breach the topic. Ghost replies as vaguely as ever,

“She tried to make me a baby blanket, never finished it.” Which takes Soap for a spin because based on what Ghost had previously (not) said, he’d assumed his mom had made them. He leaves it be.

Much later, after they’ve settled back into some semblance of their normal routine, Soap finally figures it out. It’s late at night, later than he should be awake after running himself ragged in the gym.

He’s stuck in a state of un-anxiety, which is in itself anxiety inducing, when he hears something next door. It’s rhythmic, mechanical, sharp, but in a way that’s distinctly well milled.

It’s coming from Ghost’s room, and if it were earlier in the night he might’ve just let it be, but he’s curious and without anything better to do.

He drags himself out of bed, slips on a shirt, and makes his way to Ghost’s room. It had been excluded from the gruff house tour he’d been giving on arrival, and right as he creaks the door open he understands why.

There are shelves covering the whole wall opposite to the door, obviously custom built, filled with bat upon bat of colorful fabric. The same colorful fabric, Soap realizes, that makes up the sole decoration in Ghost’s apartment. Sat at a desk, hunched slightly over a near-antique sewing machine, is Ghost.

Soap stares.

Ghost stares back at him, deceptively warm in the light of the machine. Soap can only imagine what he looks like, half awake and face cavernous in the dark of the hallway. There’s a momentary stand-off, Soap inanimate, Ghost giving him a look of challenge.

Soap breaks it first, glancing away and to Ghost’s project. It’s half-way finished, colored with calming blues and grays. Ghost seems satisfied and turns back to his work, ignoring him entirely.

Soap, sleep addled and out of his depth, takes the dismissal for all it could be. He shuts the door behind him, for both their sanities, and sits down on Ghost’s bed. It’s covered in a thick quilt, made of reds and golds and the occasional maroon hexagon. It’s unlike anything he’s thought of Ghost as, but he’s beginning to think this is the most raw he’ll ever see him.

The hum of the machine, combined with his tiredness, or maybe with the air of safety that curled around him with Ghost in his sights, starts to lull Soap to sleep.

He blinks himself an awake every time, waiting for the cozy haze to lift and Ghost to kick him out. But it never does, and the time between his eyes closing and opening slowly becomes longer and longer.

He must’ve properly fallen asleep when he’s jolted awake by the sound of plastic on plastic. Ghost had switched off his machine and was clamping closed a large, sorted box of pins. He glances back at Soap,

“Go to sleep, Mactavish.”

And Soap is nothing if not trusting of Ghost, so he does as he’s told. He’s woken again, briefly, by Ghost pulling the quilt out from underneath where he’d laid on top of it. There’s a rush of cold air, a dip in the bed beside him, and then the warm blanket being draped over him.

He makes a slight noise of alarm as he realizes it’s Ghost crawling into bed with him. Ghost huffs and grabs him by the arm, stopping him from sitting up and pulling his head to rest on a pillow in one motion. He lets go, then, and turns away from Soap.

“You can go if you want.” He rasps. Soap belatedly realizes he hadn’t talked to the other man much the previous day. He hums in clumsy thanks before finally falling asleep.

Later, Soap asks (he doesn’t beg, he’s a grown adult) Ghost to make him a quilt. He doesn’t expect him to say yes, or to have him pick the patterns, or to let him intrude on his room again almost nightly, but Ghost does.

They both know it’s not about the quilt.

[munsonsmixtapes]

what about Eddie with a sunshine!reader who accidentally ate one of his edibles? So now he has to take care of them?

Thanks so much for your request!

Eddie x sunshine!gender neutral!reader

word count: 1k

cw: reader accidentally eats a cookie that was made with edibles

The house you shared with Eddie was empty when you got through the door. His car wasn’t out in the driveway so you assumed that he had gone to band practice. You had been on complete opposite schedules with him having shows practically every night and you working late nights at the hospital.

Eddie had been nothing but proud of you for going after you wanted. He would brag about his significant other being a nurse to anyone who would listen. He knew how hard you had worked to get where you were and was elated that you had been doing what you had always dreamed about, even if that meant not seeing you as much as he would have liked.

You trudged into the kitchen after a long shift to find something to eat. Your shift had been so busy that you hadn’t had time to eat so now you were ravenous. You noticed a container of chocolate chip cookies. You assumed Eddie had made them and ripped it open, taking one for yourself. You bit into it as you set your bag onto the counter on top of the lid that had a sticky note on top of it that you probably should have read beforehand.

You opened the fridge for something real to eat and your eyes lit up as you saw a pizza that Eddie must have ordered while you had been at work. You pulled out the box and opened it, your eyes getting wide as you noticed that it had your favorite toppings and that not a single slice had been eaten.

That made you realize that he had ordered it just for you and the thoughtful gesture made you tear up. It made you miss him. You hadn’t seen him in a week and your heart ached for him. You really wished he had been there with you.

You took a couple slices from the box then put it on a plate, returning the box to the fridge while you finished the cookie. You noticed that it had a funny taste to it, but you weren’t sure how long they had been sitting there, so you assumed that maybe they were just getting old. It wasn’t like the taste mattered to you that much. You were just hungry.

You ate your cold pizza at the counter in silence. You were so hungry that you had no interest in heating it up nor going over to the couch to find something to watch while you ate. You just needed to have something on your stomach so you could go to sleep.

Your ears perked up at the door opening and you leaned over to see if you could get a glimpse at who it was even though it could have only been one person. You heard Eddie before you saw him, his loud boots tapping against the hardwood flooring as he walked across the house.

“There’s my honey,” his voice rang out and you whipped around. Your faces lit up as you saw one another and you made a beeline for him, your pizza completely abandoned.

You jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and he was quick to catch you, letting out a chuckle at your excitement. You threw your arms around his neck while his wrapped around your waist. You pressed your lips to his in a lingering kiss and he was quick to return it.

“Missed you, honey,” he murmured against your lips.

“Missed you more,” you replied.

“Not possible,” he captured your lips between his once more before burying his face into your neck, breathing in deeply. “You smell so good.”

“I smell like the hospital,” you corrected and Eddie just laughed.

“No, you smell like you,” he pulled back to look at you. “And you smell good.” He carried you into the kitchen and set you down on your feet, but snaked his arm around your waist, not quite wanting to let go of you yet.

He eyed the pizza on the counter and took the slice you had partially eaten and took a huge bite. He didn’t even care that he hadn’t liked any of the toppings, he was just hungry. He had avoided getting dinner on the way home in the hope of seeing you.

“There’s more in the fridge.”

“But this is right here,” he took another bite then held the slice out to you. You bit off a bite and the two of you smiled at each other, enjoying each other’s company, wanting to soak the small amount you were sure you had with each other.

His smile faltered though, when he caught sight of the opened container behind you. His hand slipped from your waist and moved you out of the way. He reached for the container and held it in his hands, turning to you with wide eyes.

“Honey,” he said slowly, trying to keep his cool. “Did you eat a cookie?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and Eddie set the container back down on the counter.

“Shit.” He ran his hands through his hair and turned his back to you, pacing to the other side of the kitchen.

“Eddie,” you called after him, wanting to know the reason why he had been freaking out. It was just a cookie. What was the big deal?

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, his back still back to you. Now you were panicking. What was so bad that he hadn’t wanted you eating the cookies?

“Eddie, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

“Y/n, these cookies,” he turned back around to face you, resting his hands on your shoulders. His eyes bored in yours, wanting you to know how serious he was. “They’re special cookies.” You still weren’t getting it, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Special?” Your head tilted to the side.

“Funny cookies.” He changed up his wording so you’d hopefully catch on, but you still weren’t getting it.

“Funny?” He realized that he was going to have to spell it out for you and was hoping that you wouldn’t be mad at him.

“They have edibles in them.” Your eyes widened at his words and you turned to look at them. Now it made sense why you were feeling a little floaty and giggly. You had assumed that it was because of your long week and lack of sleep.

“So that’s why they tasted so weird. Why didn’t you put a note on them? You always do.” Eddie knew that you weren’t as into getting high as much as he was so he always made sure to put little labels on the things that had been laced so you knew exactly what you had been getting yourself into. He had done it to avoid situations just like this one.

He moved over to the other side of you and spotted the edge of the lid under your bag and pulled it out, holding it up for you to read. You stepped closer to get a good look at what he had written and nodded your head at the sticky note that had in fact informed you that he had warned you. It was just an unfortunate accident.

“Eddie, I’m sorry,” you buried your face in your hands in embarrassment.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he shrugged. “Now, c’mon, honey, let’s go to bed.” He picked you up with ease and let you get comfortable while he carried you to your shared bedroom.

He gently laid you onto the bed and was quick to lay next to you, not wanting to leave you alone while you went through your high. You hadn’t experienced it very often, so he knew it would have a bigger effect on you than it would have on him.

He watched you as you let out giggles, checking to make sure that you were okay. You were giggling like a maniac and he actually thought it was quite funny seeing you that way. You were usually pretty giggly sober, you always having something to be happy about, but now you just seemed so carefree, like you didn’t have a single fuck to give.

“Do you wanna change into something more comfortable?” He asked and you nodded enthusiastically. “Gotta use your words, bub.”

“Take ‘em off,” you held your arms up. Eddie removed your scrub top and then the shirt you had on under it before replacing them with one of his many band t-shirts. He then moved to your pants, taking them off in one quick motion then looked back up at you.

“Do you want new underwear?” He had no idea the last time you changed and wanted to make sure that you were comfortable throughout your high.

“No,” you shook your head. “Changed them at work. Can I wear some of your boxers?”

“Course you can, honey.” He went over to the closet and grabbed the pair of boxers that you usually gravitated towards and put them on, trying his best to be gentle.

He then pressed his lips to your forehead then scooted into the bed next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder and his cheek leaned onto the top of your head. Your legs tangled together and one of your arms rested on his stomach while the other one laid underneath his back. One of his hands rested on top of the one that was on his stomach while the other scratched on top of your head.

“You wanna watch a movie?” He asked, his voice softer than it usually was. “It might help take your mind off how you’re feeling.”

“I know something that will take my mind off how I’m feeling,” you winked and he knew exactly what you were referring to. As much as he wanted to give in and have his way with you, he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it when you weren’t in your head enough to consent.

“Honey, believe me, you have no idea how badly I want to, but I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“You don’t want to fuck me,” you pouted.

“No,” he shook his head. “I want to fuck you. Like, you have no idea how much, but I can’t do that when you can’t fully consent, honey.”

“Oh.” Even in your high state, you supposed that made sense.

“But trust me, as soon as you’re sober again, we can go to town,” he winked then reached for the remote. He turned on the TV and changed the channel to your favorite show.

You let out a cackle and it startled Eddie in the silence between the two of you. You were laughing so hard that you had completely moved away from him, lying on your back, laughter escaping from your mouth like crazy.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, leaning over to see what had you in absolute stitches.

“Nothing,” you managed to get out through your giggles.

“Nothing, hm?” He asked, moving some of your hair out of your face.

“I’m just happy,” you replied. “And I-” you paused. “I love you.” Your laughter died out and it gave Eddie a chance to see your blown pupils.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he responded, leaning down to press a short kiss to your lips.

“Now I’m hungry.”

“Alright, sweetie. Let’s go get you a snack.” He picked you up from the bed and carried you to the kitchen to see the kind of snacks you had and did it with a wide smile on his face.

[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.

[chaoticyumelikes]

Sweet!! I have a request..fanfic! I wasn’t sure which character you write for but I’m leaning towards redson from lmk ( love me a tsundere ) who has a fem partner who’s very shy yet cuddly and wants affection from him since he’s busy with his machines but of course this is making the fire prince flustered since he’s never seen her that way and it gets worse when she says with a cute sad doe eyes “ please kiss me ” and boom. The rest is up to you! Hopefully this was okay!

Alright!!

Redson x shy!reader

Weeeeeellll opposites do attract but oh boy.

To have fallen in love with you was not easy on the flaming prince. He was of royal status. He couldn't waste his time with peasants much less so when he has the duty to build and conquer to gain the favor of his own parents. But then he meets you, a shy little mortal peasant and he scowls. When he isn't able to hear you he is LOUD and curt.

"SPEAK UP PEASANT!"

Your hurt expression does give him pause and he readjusts his temper slightly. A veeeeery tiny fraction. At first.

He does begin to like your presence though. You actually listen to him to all his ramblings, you grow fascinated at his technology and even though you don't understand his more technical terms you edge him on. So he begins to search for you when he has brilliant ideas for new mech. If he has your phone number expect him to call you at odd hours and rant to you about his latest invention and plans all the while on his bed kicking his legs with a huge smile on his face. If you complain about the hour he will get a bit snappy after all why should he respect your weak sleeping schedule. He does take note of it and kiiiinda tries to respect it. When he remembers that is. This man/demon is full of work so he's going to forget what hour and what day it even is. But he does feel fortunate to have you. While his parents treated him as a disappointment you were there fascinated and loving his every invention.

As time passes he drops the "peasant" around you.

MK tired: Stop calling us peasants...

Redson with a greatly offended expression: Excuuuuuse you Noodle Boy! I called you all peasants! *points at you with his hand* They are superior to you. In fact! *he shoos away MK from around you with a disgusted look on his face while gently dusting you off the Noodle Boy's germs off you* Stay away from them, don't bother them, don't look at them, don't infect them with your very presence. Come along dear let's go enjoy civilised company together.

Yeah... He is trying... If you point out he was rude to MK be prepared to chase a flaming Redson after MK on accounts on trying to poison you against him.

You: Please stop trying to hurt MK.

Redson smiling after a while of this repeated topic of conversation: I wouldn't dream of it *secretly presses a button to deploy several robots and weapons to carry out the job*

Invitations to his home and workshop, feel pride my shy human mortal, for you get to see the genious at work! You even try to help out when he vehemently prohibits so. You are his guest and his workshop isn't exactly... Mortal friendly. He will treat you like royalty in return for you caring about him all the while denying it. Point out his blush and he will snap that it's just the heat from the lava. And speaking of this, he will sometimes work without a shirt on and then it's your turn to blame your rosy cheeks on the general heat.

Redson: Excuse me, they asked for no pickles *now threatening the clerk* IS THAT SO HARD FOR YOUR PUNY MORTAL PEASANT BRAIN TO COMPREHEND?!

Yeeeeah he has a temper and it causes problems in his everyday life including you. He will not apologise.... By words I mean. He will leave you trinkets and acts of service. Builds you a robot for protection or build you a super cool (and deadly) vehicle.

Now about trying to show this man physical affection... Will be hard. Redson's not a very touchy person as he is deeply indoctrinated into his noble ways. And nobles do not touch unless a specific protocol is followed. So it has to be introduced in small baby steps.... You know.... Gently.... Like trying to disable a bomb.

He won't hurt you but he will flinch away and give you a look of discomfort and suspicion. Insist and be prepared for a lecture on proper etiquette.

When he FINALLY gets that he loves you... Well his world shatters. He starts to overthink and have panic attacks. How would his parents react (they have known for the longest time)? How would he court you? Should he stick to ancient demon ways to court a human? By formal kidnapping? Should he learn the human peasant ways? Eugh! But should he? Etc, etc.

He begins to shower you in gifts made by him. Super cool armor to protect you that ends up with so many functions and customization that you can't move at how heavy it is. Like I mentioned before a robot buttler, a robot bodyguard, a robot cook.... You know what? Just move in the mansion and you get a robot army. You think he is kidding... He is definitely not. The mansion has room and protection and he will make sure to attend to your every need plus you will stay close to your one only genius. Deny him and he will do as he always does..... Makes even more effort that ends in new explosive failures. One time the Monkey Crew even asked him if he was trying to actively kill you.

When you two finally get together.... You're not able to touch him, even get near him thanks to his fire powers go out of control at how happy he is. Even his parents thought for a second that he had the Samadi fire back.

He is a demon while you're human so it is a relationship that has a learning curve on the both of you. Most intimacy happens behind closed doors. On one hand you have to initiate by verbal statements.... Which due to your shy nature it's hard. Plus he is more often working than not and so you don't want to bother him. But once you do say your piece he will finish his project fast to give you the cuddles you crave.... Well almost, as he is still stiff trying to engage in less formal ways. So be prepared for him to be like a stiff manequin as you're the one that have to whether tell him or put his arms around you to what you find acceptable. Say you want kisses and I hope you're wearing layers of non-inflamable cloth or you may get burned by his embarrassment or even eagerness. He controls it with time thanks to "training" (constant cuddles and kisses). Nonetheless you'll sometimes look like a freaking forge master as he tries to reign in his flames while you try anything new. Every Winter is a blessing, 10 out of 10 cuddles, while every Summer you'll need to crank up the AC or you will die (and yes you are forbidden to deny him affection. It is LAW).

Either way once he gets the hang of it..... Be prepared to have a very clingy boyfriend as he is extremely touch starved. He, formal and set in his ways as he is, WILL include in the daily schedule hours for cuddles and other forms of affection... If you get yourself a minute or micro second late you WILL be scolded. Initiate your best affection or you'll never hear the end of it.

[chukys-mouthguard]

total knockout -ax72

Current Mood: an NHL moodboard series

-> arber xhekaj- boxer au!

-> genre - angst/fluff/suggested smut

A week before the bout…

Any time Arber had a big fight on the schedule, it meant well over a month of training. The diet, the workouts, all of it had such an impact on not only him but you. Being the girlfriend of someone who literally punches people in the face for a living wasn’t always bright lights and heavyweight belts.

Majority of the time, you were going through it right alongside Arber. Sticking by his side despite times like right now when he wasn’t the sweetest or easiest to be around.

“Babe, please. I’m just trying to help.”

You let out a sigh as Arber groaned, tossing the bandage onto the bathroom counter as he retreated to your bedroom. He’d tweaked his shoulder in his training session and his coach was urging him to wrap it every night to help the healing process. Which meant you got to play doctor for the next week or so until he was feeling better. But, shockingly, you weren’t a doctor and your skills were lacking.

“It’s fine! I’ll just sleep without it tonight.”

His tone was harsh and laced with exhaustion, letting you know this wasn’t something you should take to heart. Though you normally didn’t, letting his comments or harsh tone roll off your back.

“Arber, you know what your coach said. Now come on, I’ll take my time and make sure I get it right this time.”

He smiled softly at you before stealing a kiss, taking your hand in his as he led you back into the bathroom for attempt number twelve at wrapping his shoulder for the night.

The night of the bout…

You’d only had a brief moment with Arber before you had to head to your seat. His mind focused on the task at hand as you watched him get his knuckles taped up and wrapped by his coach. Though he didn’t speak to you much, you knew how much he appreciated having you with him in these moments.

The way his eyes would occasionally meet yours, a wink would follow before he’d focus back on his coach. Once he’d gotten his pep talk he made his way over to where you’d found a spot in the back of the locker room. Keeping out of the way as you hated feeling like a burden or an annoyance.

“Hey baby.”

Your smile was soft, trying your best to not show your nerves, though Arber saw right through you. And the nerves never got any better, quite the opposite actually. The more and more he’d fight the more worried you became of injuries and the long term effects he’d face from this sport. But this was his passion, and despite your fears, Arber was quite good and could handle his own.

“Hi, you ready?”

Arber nodded as he stole a kiss from you, his taped up hands resting at your hips as he took advantage of the short moment he’d have with you before he’d have to bid you farewell.

“To go bash a guys face in? Hell yeah I am!”

He laughed as you rolled your eyes, his jokes one of the few things that could lighten the mood in situations like this.

“As long as it’s his face and not yours. Good out there and kick some ass. I love you.”

The morning after the bout…

Rolling over in bed, your eyes fluttered open at sunlight peeking through the blinds. A soft sigh leaving your lips as you draped an arm over Arber’s chest. Looking up at his sleeping figure you took in his battle scars earned from the night before.

Victory didn’t come easy for him; a cut over his eyebrow still bandaged up, bruises scattered over his face, with a black eye to finish off the damage. Your fingers traced over his features, careful not to press too hard and wake him, hating what this sport did to him. But seeing him hoist the championship belt the night before, the pure excitement and proof that his hard work paid off, made it a little easier to swallow having to see him so battered and bruised.

“Mmm”

Arber softly groaned at the feeling of your touch, leaning his cheek into your hand as you felt one of his reach out for you. His palm resting on your thigh as his eyes softly opened to look up at you.

“Hey baby, good morning. How’s the damage?”

A chuckle left your lips as you scanned his face, the cut above his eyes being the only thing that needed any attention.

“Not the worst, but definitely still not the best.”

Getting up you quickly went to the bathroom, grabbing a first aid kit and some peroxide to clean his brow. Arber sat up and leaned against the headboard, assuming the position that had become a familiar routine the morning after fights.

As you returned from the bathroom you couldn’t help but notice the blanket now gathered at his waist. His chiseled chest and arms exposed as he patiently waited for you to play doctor and fix him up.

“Does it hurt?”

You asked the same question you always did, carful to remove the bandage and clean the cut on his face. Arber slightly laughing, as his answer never changed when you asked him the question. But he appreciated you worrying about him.

“Babe, I’m a big strong boy, I can handle it don’t worry.”

He flexed his biceps at you as he spoke, partially showing them off because he knew how much his muscles got you going. And he wasn’t wrong, your eyes trying to focus on cleaning his wounds versus staring at his arms that were calling out for your attention.

“If you’re trying to start something, it’s not happening. You’re all bruised up, don’t want to make any of that worse for you babe.”

You pecked his lips before wrapping up with tending to his wounds, moving to take the items back to the bathroom. But the feeling of Arber snaking an arm around your waist let you know he had other ideas.

You’d dropped the first aid kit items on the bedside table as Aber pulled you back into bed. Positioning you below him as he rested his arms on either side of your head, staring down at you with a smirk.

“Baby, I told you I’m a big strong boy. And you won’t do anything to make this worse, in fact-“

His lips found their place against your neck as he slowly trailed kisses across your skin, leaving a few quick bites in the process.

“I think all the things you want to do to me right now would make me feel so much better.”

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! Sorry I’ve been putting a lot of asks. You can feel free to push this one later. I just wanted to submit this ask while I still remembered this idea. A while ago I read your post about Optimus Prime with a daughter who was his exact opposite, and I loved that one! So may I request a similar idea with TFP Ratchet? Like TFP Ratchet with a daughter bot Buddy who is his exact opposite. Like who had a gentle and sweet and that “Does it hurt here? Aww, you poor thing” “Hey you are doing so much better! Aww! Great job” type of classic cartoon nurse personality, as well as the classic “I love these little creatures! Can we keep them? Father pleaaase?” type of little girl personality (probably to the humans, to Ratchet’s dismey). And she also looked up to Arcee a lot. Like, A LOT! Her absolute idol! she would want to copy every way Arcee talk and behave (even the bad examples)(much to Ratchet’s dismay) and copying the way Arcee battle too. And thanks to Arcee she now wished she could join the battlefield and do all these wonderful cool and dangerous things too! (Once again, much to Ratchet’s dismey)

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! YES! Give Ratchet a child!

Hope you enjoy!

Ratchet with a daughter who has the exact opposite personality to his own

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Buddy was originally a sparkling from a dear friend of Ratchet and Orion Pax’s.

Their caregiver was an extremely pacifistic bot who wanted nothing more than peace on Cybertron. But once in a while the caregiver would join a rally with Pax and Ratchet. They believed in change and agreed something needed to be done.

They sadly passed away from natural causes one day when they dropped Buddy off at his clinic to pick up some rust sticks for Buddy. The two friends were devastated hearing the news while the sparkling was happily playing around with her toys.

Their caregiver had placed Ratchet as the primary care giver if anything should happen, Orion was to be the sparkling godparent.

Ratchet took on the new duties immediately.

It was the least he could do for his friend and the sparkling.

Ratchet made sure to let the sparkling know what happened to their caregiver when they were older.

“And that’s the story.”--Ratchet

“So, they’re really gone then?”--Buddy

“Yes…”--Ratchet

“…Does that mean I can’t tell bots you’re my caregiver?”--Buddy

“What?”--Ratchet

“I mean, you take care of me, you feed me, you help me with stuff I don’t know, you helped me choosing my alt mode, you let me rant when things get too much, and you love me… right?”--Buddy

“Of course, I do!”--Ratchet

“Then?”--Buddy

“…I am…I…”--Ratchet

“You don’t have to say it if you aren’t ready. I love you, you take your time.”--Buddy

“… I love you, Buddy. I love you, my sparkling.”--Ratchet

“To Luna 1 and back?”--Buddy

“To Luna 1 and back.”--Ratchet

The sparkling grew up with a peculiar personality contrasting his.

She wasn’t as sarcastic as he was. If fact it was rare to hear her say sarcastic things. Buddy rather expressed herself open when she could.

“Hi Arcee! Hi Cliffjumper! How was patrol this evening?”--Buddy

“It was fine. Not a Con in sight.”--Arcee

“And too bad too. We would have knocked out their processors out right away!”--Cliffjumper

“Any wounds today? Dents? Dinges? Scratches?”--Buddy

“Yeah I think some of the gravel clipped my servos.”--Cliffjumper

“Oh! Let me!—”--Buddy

“He was joking Buddy.”—Arcee

“Oh…”--Buddy

“…But I do have some cool looking rocks to add to your collection.”—Cliffjumper

“Really! Awesome! Let me go get my collection right now!”—Buddy

“Nice save.”--Arcee

“No thanks to you ‘Cee.”--Cliffjumper

She was a very sensitive individual and extremely empathetic in nature. Just like her former Caregiver, a near perfect image of them.

That being said, Buddy did pick up some of Ratchet’s habits.

Sleep schedule? Never heard of them.

Perfectionist? Absolutely.

Think highly of a certain bot? Yes, but not the same one.

Buddy cleaning some of the medical equipment.

Bumblebee coming out from his habsuite.

“Beep beop! (Morning Buddy!)”--Bumblebee

“Morning? But it was just—oh! God morning Bumblebee!”--Buddy

“Beep… bep bep bop? (Buddy… how many hours did you sleep?)”--Bumblebee

“… So, are you going to pick up Raf today?”--Buddy

“Bep beep (Like Daughter like Father)”--Bumblebee

“Hey!”--Buddy

“Bep bop? (Am I wrong?)”--Bumblebee

“…No…”--Buddy

Buddy stayed by Ratchet’s side through the thick and thin as his nurse. It seemed like the best role for Buddy to play. They did get taught by the very best anyways.

The kids for the longest time thought that Buddy was simply a student to Ratchet.

“Hey Buddy, do you have parents?”--Miko

“Miko!”--Jack

“What it’s a valid question.”--Miko

“Umm… I’m confused. You know him already.”--Buddy

“Wait your parent is one of the bots on the Team?”--Raf

“Yes? I thought you knew already.”--Buddy

“Who is it! I bet its Optimus!”--Miko

“Actually, he is my godparent as you’d say it on Earth.”--Buddy

“Then who?”--Raf

“Ratchet.”--Buddy

“RATCHET!?”--Miko

“What’s wrong?!”--Ratchet

“You’re Buddy’s dad!?”--Miko

“Yes? I thought you knew already.”--Ratchet

“That’s what I said!”--Buddy

“But how—I want a Cybertronain DNA test, cause there is no way sweety Buddy is related to salty you.”--Miko

“I’m actually adopted Miko.”--Buddy

“Oh?”--Miko

“But that doesn’t mean you aren’t my daughter, Buddy.”--ratchet

“And that doesn’t mean you aren’t my father Ratchet.”--Buddy

“Wow…”--Jack

“This is too cute I’m going to go puke.”--Miko

“And you ruined it.”--Jack

This clears a lot of things for the humans.

Buddy was the eldest of the youngest group on Team Prime. She took her job as big sister seriously with Bumblebee and later with Smokescreen. She made sure to always be there for them in any way she could figure out was necessary.

The two bots enjoyed having someone have their backs and fixing them when they came back from patrol.

“Hey Smokes’, you’re doing amazing there.”--Buddy

“Really?”--Smokescreen

“Yeah, just a bit longer and you’ll be on your pedes in no time!”--Buddy

“Yeah!”--Smokescreen

“Then you can start the physical therapy.”--Buddy

“Can I skip that?”--Smokescreen

“Did I studder?”—Buddy

CRUNCH!

Bumblebee accidentally crushed a tool with his pede.

“Bee… Honeybee… I needed that.”--Buddy

Ratchet on the other side of the base.

“…I suddenly feel proud for some reason?”--Ratchet

Like Ratchet Buddy looked up to certain teammates.

While Ratchet looked up to Optimus, Buddy looked up to Arcee.

Buddy saw a hero and great friend in Arcee.

A part of Buddy, like Ratchet, wished she could do more to help the team. When she saw Arcee sparring and hearing the retellings of her stories, she could only imagine doing the stuff Arcee could do.

“Then what happened?”--Buddy

“That’s when me and Cliff went into the groundbridge while Shockwave shot at us with his canon.”--Arcee

“I remember hearing that cliff was knocked unconscious when he went into the portal. What did you do to Shockwave?”—Buddy

“Are you sure you want to know?”--Arcee

“Absolutely!”--Buddy

“Heh…I shot the Cyclops right in that giant optic of his! He fell straight back to Cybertron with a BANG!”--Arcee

“COOL!”—Buddy

“Please don’t influence my child.”--Ratchet

“No promises.”--Arcee

“Yeah, no promises!”--Buddy

“…Maybe you were right…”--Arcee

Ratchet just hopes that Buddy doesn’t follow Arcee exactly.

He is too old for these jump scares.

And its not like Buddy would go into battle with nothing more than their med kit for Arcee alone, right?

Right?