#n my brain is in . sleepy mode
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i feel like the meds im taking are not helping at all and if anything theyre making it worse
#duloxetine girl i liked you at first but u suck rn.....#god i wish i was normal i wish i didnt feel sad and alien and miserable all the time#and now on top of that i feel nauseous and heavy and my mind is all tangled and i cant focus#duloxetine made me so sleepy at first i had to start taking it at night until one day i felt like i was dying#bc my heart was about to jump from my throat and i was sweating buckets#so i had to change the time again and now i take it in the mornings but all it does is make me sick#when i took it at night (paired with quetiapine) it worked soooo well bc i slept better & had energy + will to do things#now i sleep terribly and have no will. my psychiatrist says i give up too easily (true) and i cant keep a routine (also true) but like#how can i even do those when my brain doesnt help.... i already force myself 2 eat n piss n shit which r basic living organism things#is living just forcing yourself to do things forever and ever because you have to#is there no treat at the end of this suffering road#and i feel bad bc im not even Rawdogging life FOR REAL like i have it soooooo easy. living life at Extremely super easy mode#and yet i struggle.....#i should be moss or a bacteria or a rock#222
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"my hero" - m.v.
pairing: social worker!reader x max verstappen
word count: idek tbh (i’m posting this on my lunch break hehe)
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, max in bf mode, long distance couple, cursing here and there, mentions of mental health, mentions of mental health disorders, mentions of physical health, yada, yada, yada
a/n: i know i said i was working on requests but this idea would not leave my brain all day. i couldn't stop thinking about it so i had to write it. (it's def a little self-indulgent) i hope y'all enjoy!
"ah! there you are. i can see you now!""
a giggle bubbles up in your throat, your lips forming a wide smile, "hi baby, how are you?"
he shrugs, the image distorted for about a millisecond. he comes into frame once again, slightly pixelated. however, you can make out the sleepy grin plastered across his face, and the twinkle in his eye as he looks into the camera.
max verstappen, three time world driver’s champion, is on facetime with you, donned in nothing but a black cotton tee and his boxers. you can tell from the background that he’s in his motorhome, settled in his room.
his hair is a disheveled mess, sticking up haphazardly. he more than likely just got out of the shower, as the fabric of the tee clung to his toned frame. underneath his eyes were two faint circles, the skin slightly puffy.
yet, here he was, calling you at god knew what hour just to hear the sound of your voice.
"tired. very fucking tired."
"i can imagine so," you nod, typing along at your laptop, "what time is it there?"
he hums, leaning over his phone, "it's about eleven thirty?"
"max!" your eyes widen, "you need to get some sleep. it's qualifying tomorrow!"
"and?" he counters, arching a brow, "i wanted to hear how your day went. from your messages, it seemed like it was quite eventful."
"i'm just wrapping up my notes now," you exhale, your shoulders slumping slightly, "it was a long day."
"i can imagine my baby," he coos, settling underneath the covers, "tell me all about it."
"i can assure you being a case worker is not nearly as riveting as a formula one driver," you snort, shaking your head, "you go first."
"nope," he was not budging, his attention still fixated solely on you, "tell me about your day, and then i'll share about mine. it's only fair."
"well," you wrinkle your nose, glancing over the open document on your laptop screen, "my day started with one of my clients experiencing a small crisis. she was without food so she called me, asking if i could take her to the nearest pantry. while i was with her, another client of mine called asking if i could transport him to his appointment.
i probably could have, but he reached out to me only fifteen minutes before his appointment time. i received my new staffing form today. i have a couple of clients who are in need of housing so i had to make some calls to some local agencies."
"and how did that go?" you can't help but feel heat flourishing into your cheeks at the intrigue laced in his tone, "were you able to make some progress?"
"not really," you inhale sharply, "housing is really difficult to find right now. it's sort of like when your tires are giving out, but you need them to last a few more laps. you have to remain hopeful so that you can keep pushing."
“i like that analogy,” he fights a yawn, but continues regardless, “that’s a good one. i’m going to use that.”
“as long as you credit me,” you muse, clicking your mousepad as you finalize your note, “how was practice today?”
“so-so,” he chirps, “i missed you a lot today. thought about you nearly every second of the practice session. you’re flying out next week, right?”
you nod, shutting your laptop, “yes. i’ll be leaving wednesday evening and catching a late flight. hopefully when i land, there will be this insanely handsome dutch man waiting for me.”
“is that right?” max’s dimples appear, causing your heart to skip a beat, “i’m hoping that my good luck charm arrives safe and sound. i can’t wait to see her.”
“counting down the minutes are we?”
“you have no idea,” carefully, he plucks his phone from his makeshift stand, bringing you closer into the bed with him, “will you stay on till i fall asleep?”
at his request, there’s a tug at your heart. fuck, if only you were with him. then he would have been able to lay on you until he dozed off. his head would have been snuggled into uour collabone, your hands tangled in his hair, playing with it as his chest steadily rose and fell.
if only you were there. if only you were an influencer or a model. if only you could take work with you, dropping everything to fly all over the world. if only you weren’t separated by time zones, where you had to carefully coordinate facetime calls.
if only you weren’t long distance, then maybe you wouldn’t feel like this.
if only.
“hey,” max’s voice is merely a whisper, “are you okay?”
your lower lip trembles, tears welling up, threatening to spill over. there’s a choking sound, as you attempt to suppress a sob.
yet, it was too late. they were streaming down your cheeks now, your hands instinctively shielding your face.
“baby,” max murmurs, “what’s going on?”
“this shit sucks,” you shake your head, the words strained, “i hate that i’m not with you right now. i hate that we’re long distance. i hate that i have to stay here and—“
“but your clients need you,” his tone is delicate, “you’re the one person they can count on when everything else is going to shit. they need you like i need you. i can tell you had a long day baby, but i’m here. i’m here for you, no matter what.”
“i-i love you,” you manage to sputter out, wiping your cheeks, “i love you, max.”
“and i love you more than you’ll ever know,” in the frame, a pillow is held against his chest, “i’m even cuddling this pillow right now pretending that it’s you.”
“i can’t believe you fell in love with some plain girl from the states,” you sigh, resting your head against the couch cushion, “out of everyone in the world, you happened to fall in love with me.”
“you’re not just any girl from the states,” for a moment, you’re shocked at the firmness in his tone, “you’re my girl. it takes someone special to do what you do. you’re my hero baby. i aspire to be as strong as you.”
“i love you,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile, “am i really your hero?”
“of course,” it doesn’t even take him a second to respond, “like i said, you’re the strongest person i know. you inspire me.”
“i can’t wait to see you,” you murmur, taking note of the way his eyes were drooping, “i’ll stay on till you sleep, my love. it seems like you need it.”
“hey,” one eye opens, barely a slit, “i know this shit sucks right now, but we’ll make it. okay? one day you’ll get to come home to me and tell me all about your day rather than calling. it’ll be worth it. i promise.”
“i hope so. i love you, maxie. sleep well, my love. i’ll be there before you know it.”
“try to have a good evening,” you could barely make out the statement, as he was beginning to doze off, “just end the call when i’m asleep. i’ll message you in the morning.”
“i’ll be here,” opening your laptop, you prop it against the screen, “goodnight, maxie.”
“night, night, baby.”
as sleep takes a hold of the dutch driver, you remain on the call, opening youtube. cautiously, you click on one of your favorite videos. it’s a montage of all of max’s wins, starting from the 2016 spanish grand prix.
the video begins to play, the volume carefully adjusted so that it doesn’t wake him.
as your gaze shifts to your phone once again, you can’t help but hear his words ringing in your ears.
one day this would all be worth it.
and one day, max verstappen would be able to be with his hero.
every single day for the rest of his life.
#max verstappen#mv1#mv33#max verstappen x reader#f1#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#formula 1 fanfiction#mv33 x reader
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Say it right (Husband!Ken Sato X Reader)
Summary: In which you and your husband dance to Nelly Furtado's song after a long day of work.
You came out from your office as your shift was over. After a very long day, you were so exhausted and stressed a lot lately. All you wanted to do was sleep and cuddle with the super-famous baseball player, aka. Ken Sato, aka. your husband. You yawned as you reached your car, started the ignition and headed home.
Speaking of your husband, you thought about how he managed to do all the single-mother tasks and baseball at the same time. I mean, you both met when you were young. But he had to go to America and you both lost contact for 20 years. He became a famous baseball player. After he announced that he was coming to Japan, you knew why he was coming for, all thanks to Prof. Sato. You knew he was Ultraman.
From that day, you both reconciled your friendship and when Emi came into your lives, friendship blossomed into something deeper. After taking Emi to Kaiju island, Ken finally confessed his love for you. After dating for two years, he proposed you and yes, you were married. Okay, enough of this backstory.
And here you were, lying on the floor and waiting for your husband to come home. You wore a baby-pink, satin pajamas you adored (which would secretly turn your husband on 🤭). Once you heard the door cling, you stood up from your position and stretched your arms. There he was. Your husband.
Kenji strolled towards you and hugged you. "Hi, honey," he rubbed your back, soothingly, "how was work?"
"Tiring," you said, almost melting into his embrace, "how was practice?"
"Went good," he replied, "I missed you."
"I missed you a lot," you hummed, as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.
Timeskip-a-loo
After dinner, you both were now in the balcony. You were sitting between his legs, ranting about your day at the office, how your boss gave a crap amount of work, and how he was even more strict, and Kenji was listening to you while playing with your hair.
"Man, I am so sleepy," you yawned, "but I don't want to sleep."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know, I just," you paused for a while, "I just want to stay like this, for a while."
Kenji thought of an idea. He thought about those days when you and him would vibe to your favorite song while using one of his cars as a mode of transportation (he would usually ride his bike), those days when you would hum that song while working and that wedding day when you and him slow-danced to that same song during your first night before consummating.
He slowly took you inside, his hands pressed on your hips and your back pressed on his chest.
"Kenji, what are you doing?" You chuckled.
"(N.)," he replied, "taking you in."
"I told you, I don't want to sleep."
"Who says we're going to sleep?" He turned to his AI assistant and ordered, "Mina, play that one song."
"Ken, which one?"
"You know the one," and Mina played it. It was Nelly Furtado's song 'Say It Right,' your most favorite song.
"Kenji?" you asked, "what are you doing, again?"
"Dancing with you," he took your waist on one hand and you hand with the other, as you held onto his shoulder.
You reminisced those days when you used to sing that song with him, those days when you played it in the background when he was away with his baseball practice, dancing your heart out alongside Emi who giggled and danced with you, those sweet moments playing inside your brain as you were now lost in his eyes.
As the song was about to end, you whispered to Mina, "Hey, Mina? Dim the lights, please."
Mina did as you told her to do. Now, here you were; slow-dancing with your husband in the dining hall, lights dimmed as you both share a kiss when the last verse of this song ended and the outro was played.
(camera shifts and focuses to two red roses touched to each other as the background is now blurred. HEHEHE!)
A/N: Ahhhh! I made my first Ken Sato fanfic, just like I promised (this one was short). Okay, so I saw a Miguel x Kenji fanart on Pinterest and omg, I was not expecting that (no comments on Ken x Miguel). The comments were mostly of, 'I ship Ken with Tadashi' and honestly, Ken x Tadashi looks like a good ship (Kendashi, hello?) and there was one comment which caught me off guard. "KENJI X ELSA!" I was like, "Okay, that looks so rare!"
Anyways, making an OC who is Ken's wife. credits to @drifting-moon for the divider.
#Spotify#kenji sato x you#kenji sato x reader#ken sato#ultraman ken#kenji sato#ken sato x reader#ultraman netflix#ultraman rising#ultraman rising x reader#ken sato x you#ken sato fluff#emi ultraman#ultraman mina#ultraman emi#ultraman
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jewelry of every kind
no thoughts except Spencer wearing MGG’s rings…
Summary: Spencer tries out wearing more accessories and you decide to show him just how much you love them.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content Warning: 18+ Content (NSFW/NSFM), smut, hand kink, finger sucking, choking, fingering, piv sex
Word Count: 1.3k
“Those are new,” you say, motioning to Spencer’s hands as he skims through the contents of a file with sleep.
Scattered across his fingers were four golden rings of various sizes and shapes, but the one that took you by surprise most was the large round pinky ring.
“Hm,” he mumbles, jolting is head up from his work, his sleepy eyes meeting yours. “Oh, these? I’ve always had them sitting around, I figured it was probably time I wore them.” Then, he went back to his work.
You cozy yourself onto the couch cushion beside where Spencer was still hunched over, running his lengthy fingers down each page. Normally, this alone was enough to do you in, but the addition of how his hands looked donning jewelry made your head spin.
“I like them,” you caught his right hand as he reaches the end of a page, bringing it up to your face, “a lot…”
Before Spencer could switch his brain off from work mode, you had taken his thumb into your mouth and began to suck on it with just enough pressure to make his nerves stand on end.
The paper still in his free hand fell onto the coffee table and an uncontrollable gasp came from his lips.
"Oh it's like that?" Spencer inquired, watching you intensely as you looked at him with wide pleading eyes.
"Mhm," you hum, causing a vibration that ran up from his thumb and up to his neck. "Makes me want them inside of me so bad."
Without warning, Spencer draws you to straddle his lap and into a passionate kiss. As his tongue found his way into your mouth to explore, his fingers drifted to part your robe where he discovered your bareness underneath.
"God, y/n... nothing underneath?" he asks, slipping a finger down your slit and feeling your warmth already pooling. "And so wet for me already."
His finger dips further into your center and the cool metal of one of his rings brushes against your clit, eliciting an instinctive moan to cry from your throat.
"Does it feel good, angel?" Spencer purred, slipping another finger in and curling them to hit your sensitive spot.
Another cry bellowed from your lips, throwing your head back in the process. "Yes, yes so good, Spence."
The arch of your back made your robe come completely undone, revealing your swollen breasts. Without missing a beat, Spencer brought his mouth to one of them, biting them gently. As he did so, his fingers pumped in and out of you faster, the metal providing a stinging cold sensation against the heat growing from your wetness and the friction. You feel an ache begin to grow in your abdomen and pressure build as he increases the dexterity of his fingers, eventually you find your release around them slicking his fingers with even more of your arousal.
As you come down from your high, Spencer slowly removes his fingers and brings them to your parted lips with a devilish grin. You run your tongue in between them, your arousal coating your tongue before taking his digits completely in your mouth, nearly touching the golden accessories that had started your obsession.
Your cum tasted musky and sweet upon your tongue, but you wanted so desperately for Spencer to taste it, too - so you kissed him deeply, gliding your tongue against his.
"You always taste so good, baby," he growls, the feeling of his erection growing underneath you.
"Mmm, you know what? I've been wanting to wear a certain piece of jewelry again for awhile," you state, unbuckling his pants while grinding against him lightly.
Spencer could hardly form words with you touching his bulge, but he managed to croak, "W-which one is that?"
As you pulled his pants completely to the ground, springing his cock up to his navel, you leaned in to whisper, "Your hand as my necklace."
A guttural groan escaped him and it sounded like a melody to your ears. You glided your folds on top of his erection before sinking down on him at an achingly slow pace, causing Spencer to firmly grasp one of your ass cheeks and the other to grip the back cushion of the couch.
When you reached the point of being completely full of him, Spencer suddenly began to fuck up into you with growing force and pace. Taking you by surprise, you whimper and attempt to regain your pace by placing your hands upon his braced chest. Without warning, his hand shoots to clasp around your throat, squeezing gently.
"Is this what you meant, angel?" he asked, adding extra pressure and thrusting into you with more force.
You let out a desperate moan and respond, "Y-yes, sir. Doesn't it look so pretty on me?"
"Yes," Spencer rubs his thumb against the peak of your throat and admires it as he speaks. "It looks like it was made for you."
The pressure of his hand around your throat makes your arousal grow and drip down onto the base of his cock freely. The sounds of your bodies slapping to together with a perfected rhythm in combination with your exchanges of whimpers and moans make your body rise with chills. His ringed hand clasping your throat, the way he looked in ecstasy with his eyes rolled back, and the way that he completely filled you made you closer and closer to your second climax.
"I love you so much, y/n - fuck," Spencer huffed, his cock growing harder with every sloppy thrust.
His hand moves from your throat to intertwine through your hair, yanking it back to reveal your red and tender neck. Quickly, he leans forward to place open-mouthed kisses along the faint swollen hand print. The sensitivity of your neck translated to the increasing sensitivity between your legs.
"I - I love you, too, Spence," you say breathlessly, reaching down to gently rub your clit in a desperate attempt to release yourself.
"Oh, how pitiful, angel. Are you close to cumming again?" he murmured, nibbling gently on your earlobe and grasping both of your ass cheeks firmly.
All you can manage is a whimper of confirmation as your eyes close and your breath tightens.
"We can cum together, okay?" he hums, feeling your walls tighten around his pulsing dick.
"Y-yes, please, please," you faintly whisper, your clit becoming nearly numb with pleasure.
Spencer readjusts himself underneath you to hit your cervix perfectly, eliciting a genuine sob of pain and need from your lips. His grip on your backside became close to clawing into your skin, but it only increased the euphoria of your ever approaching high.
A few more deep thrusts was all it took for both of you to fall apart. Spencer cried out your name with sweat beading against his brow while he released his seed deep into your throbbing core. You nearly collapsed on top of him from the weakness of your thighs as they shook with your release. The tightness of his grip only grew as he lifted you up and down a few more times to make sure that you were completely full of him.
As both of you came down from your high, you found yourself kissing one another with a tired passion that was full of the most permeating intimacy. The nearly drunken feeling that it caused was suddenly cut off by Spencer's hand placing a stingingly firm slap upon your ass.
"I think I left a mark," Spencer said teasingly, examining your throat and backside.
"I sure hope so," you respond, bringing his hands up to cup your breasts.
He places a soft kiss upon your lips before saying, "So, you're saying I should wear these more often?" Spencer twirls his pinky ring suggestively.
"You better," you said, toying with his hands. "I'd like to wear my necklace more often, too."
Bringing you into a deep embrace, he chuckled lightly, "Your wish is my command, angel. And how could I possibly deny you?"
please feel free to request! (or let me know what you think!)
#spencer reid#spencer reid masterlist#spencer reid request#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#spencer reid angst#spencer reid series#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds series#criminal minds angst#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#criminal minds imagine#slowburningfics#slowburningblurbs#slowburningquestions
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Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 44)
The next morning was a slow one, spending the night in the buff, Uzi was curled up, head slotted into N's shoulder, her hand placed on his chest almost on top of his core. It was him who woke up first, groggy, humming in contentment as he turned to bury his face into her soft purple locks.
Despite the initial awkwardness, sleeping this way had definitely proven to be the best way to curb both of their needs. For the first time all week, he woke up feeling recharged and recovered instead of needy with a side of brain fog.
He couldn't help but trail his eyes down to his still sleeping girlfriend, [Sleep Mode] painted on her visor, she looked peaceful, content, she made a noise in her sleep purred as she tried to somehow bring herself closer.
How had they ended up this way? The day they met she had shot off his head and he'd tried to kill her. But here they were, she had enough trust in him to sleep completely exposed, he'd never ever, been this physically or emotionally close to anyone. He wasn't sure if he ever could with anyone else, his core fluttered as he continued to lovingly gaze at the drone beside him, drinking up her every detail.
He moved a strand of hair out of her face, only for his hand to linger and trace circles into her cheek, was it weird that even though they were as close as phyically possible he still wanted to touch her?
His alarm went off, internally ringing in his systems telling him it was time to get up and start getting ready, he really didn't want to, he wanted to stay here… just a little longer.
But it seemed even the universe around him wanted him to get up, because Uzi's eyes flickered on, opening slowly, a low whine escaped her lips, clearly not wanting to be awake.
“Morning precious.” He hummed, causing Uzi's first conscious action that morning to be groaning, blushing, and placing her whole palm on his face to shove him lightly.
“Too early…”
“Aw, but you are, you're so beautiful my precious little amethyst.” He couldn't stop himself, his core was overflowing with affection, he nuzzled into her neck, causing a peel of sleepy giggles to erupt from her mouth.
He took it up a notch, ceasing his nuzzling to place tiny kisses up and down her neck, Uzi squeaked, body tensing up for a moment before her giggling turned into squeals, clearly not prepared for his loving assault.
“Ah! N-no!-” Interrupted my more squealing laughter as N explored this newly found sensitive area “N! Hah-cut it out!” She protested through the wonderful sound that was her uncontrolled laughter.
He did stop, but not until she was breathless and squirming, giggles mixed in with small gasps.
But he still held her close from behind, his hand gripping her waist while he trailed a finger up her side, making her shiver as the featherlight touch was registered in her sensors.
“D-don’t you have work?” She asked, turning to face him as he looked at her with half lidded eyes, in all fairness, she was just trying to distract him, his touch had no business feeling that nice.
“You're not wanting to get rid of me, are you?” He replied, his voice husky and spoken directly into her audio receptors, the heat in her visor doubled, and she fought back an embarrassing squeak. Her body getting the drone equivalent to goosebumps.
His voice also had no business being as hot as it was, he had to be doing this on purpose.
“No. Of course not, j-just don't want you to be late.” She replied, shit, it had been her idea to sleep like this in the first place, but with N behaving… like this, she wasn't sure of it was a bad idea, or the best idea she'd ever had.
N meanwhile, was enjoying teasing his girlfriend immensely, there was very little for him to be nervous about when they were already nude, so it may have been bolstering his confidence a wee little bit.
He sighed, unfortunately she was right, it was his first real day of work and he would be late if he didn't get up, but even so, before he left he moved down to give Uzi a slow, meaningful kiss that had her processors melting into useless goo.
“Love you.” He hummed after it ended, chuckling at the heart that had replaced one of her eyes, she blinked, and it was gone.
“Love you too.” She replied back, every time she said it was always softer then her normal tone, and it always made N smile.
He threw the covers off and stretched before digging into his bedside table for his now freshly laundered coat, he pulled it over his shoulders and buttoned it with practiced speed, his tail thankfully not getting stuck this time.
He heard Tera chirp sleepily from her crib and went over to check on his daughter, she'd clearly just woken up, one eyelight open and the other shut as she yawned, arms stretching our towards him as a smile made it's way to her face.
“Morning Jellybean.” He pulled her into his arms as she immediately gripped onto the fur of his coat with one of her hands, she giggled at him, nearly vibrating with energy.
“Papa!” She beamed, blinking up at her father, he tapped her visor with his finger in response, causing it to glitch for a moment and a peel of happy laughter to escape her mouth.
“Be good for mommy okay? I'll be back later.” Tera nodded her head clumsily yet rapidly, And N set her back into her crib, she stood on both her legs for a moment, before falling backwards into the nest of pillows.
He strolled into the kitchen, taking his hat from the rack and looking at it, it no longer bared the pilot emblem on the front, instead he'd replaced it with his WDF badge, the old emblem being stored away in his nightstand.
Maybe one day he'd give it to Tera… when she grew out of trying to eat everything small enough to fit in her mouth.
He put it on his head, grabbed his container of oil, took a big gulp of it, before stashing it in his pocket and heading out the door.
People still looked at him strangly, sometimes with fear or with worry, but after so many months in the bunker, he more often then not was paid little mind, being relegated to normal bunker activity for most of the drones he passed going about their day.
It gave him a little hope, one day he'd not be feared anymore, he just had to be patient, and work to earn people's trust.
“N! Buddy! Ya look way better then yesterday!” He heard Hal behind him and he turned the give the man a beaming smile, he'd been right in front of the WDF office ready to open the door.
“Yeah…just needed to be home I guess.” He said sheepishly, a not-so-well hidden blush on his face.
“That girl must be a doll with ya, with a face like that.” Hal chuckled, a knowing look on his face that only succeeded in making N blush more.
“I'm only teasin’. Come on, let's get ya acquainted.” Hal led him inside with a hand on his back and a smile on his face, the man looked incredibly jolly and his smile was quickly spreading to N.
There were a few people already inside, namely Khan and Dale, which were having some sort of conversation behind the translucent, marbled glass of Khans private office, Guy was here too, though asleep with his legs propped up on the desk, Hal rolled his eyes.
“Kid has no respect…” The typically jolly drone mumbled under his breath, shaking his head and making his beard shake with the movement.
There were several other people there he didn't recognize, a couple drones waved at him, including a green eyed woman with glasses that seemed to beam at him, he waved back, happy to see friendly faces even if he didn't know them yet.
“Alright, here's your desk!” Hal stopped and gestured over to a desk to his right, two desks behind Guy, it was absent of any kind of decoration or tool, aside from a bronze plaque.
Elliot, S-D N.
He inwardly cringed at that, his “last name” carrying a lot of baggage that he truly didn't want tied to him, he didn't want to carry the name of those who hurt him, but now it was here, on his desk.
“Didn't know ya had a last name.” Hal pointed out, his hand combing through his beard as he looked between N and the nameplate.
“I-I don't. Just something I had to do for my daughter…” N explained, he tore his eyes away from it, and looked at Hal for whatever else he had to say.
“Well alright! You're gonna be shadowing me today, seeing as I'll be the one you'll mostly be working under.”
N was surprised at that, as far as he was aware, he was working under Khan.
Seeming to read his mind, Hal spoke up again. “Khan’s leader of the Engineering team, unless you know about hydraulics n’ math, you won't see him much.”
“I'm Chief of Police, Dale covers outside threats, through he's had a lot less to do lately…” Hal trailed off before shaking his head free of whatever thought was plaguing him.
“I'm sure if something serious came from outside he'd come get you, but for now, I'm taking ya.”
“Aye, aye captain.” N gave him a salute that had been programmed into him, Hal looked amused for a moment, before he chuckled.
“This ain't the military son, but I like your spirit.” There was a beep on Hal's visor and his florescent pink eyelights flickered to the side, his face falling slightly as he read through whatever report he'd been sent.
“Agh… not again.” He grumbled, looking unamused as he pinched his visor. N cocked his head.
“Is something wrong?”
“Just Old Mrs. Hopkins calling in another “break in”. No one's ever broken in, She's just paranoid n’ her memories going.”
“Still, we gotta check it out. Can't just ignore it. Stay here, let me go get my coat.”
Hal disappeared into a door in the back, inside one of the three private offices that was in the room, in another moment, he reappeared in a coat that was a little too small for him, opened completely to continue to show off the red shirt he normally wore. His badge was pinned near his collar.
“Come on, this should be an easy one.”
Next ->
#murder drones#biscuitbites#nuzi#uzi doorman#serial designation n#n and uzi#oil is thicker then blood#tera doorman#N's essentialy a police officer#WDF lore#since canon shafts them almost immediately
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HOW SKZ WOULD REACT TO BEING CALLED ‘BABY BOY’ | HYUNG LINE
pairing ; skz (hyung line) x reader
genre ; fluff, comfort
tags ; domestic!au, established relationship!au
warnings ; hyunjin is in need of some comfort, all soft and fluffy though (no angst)
summary ; calling skz baby boy <3
word count ; ~ 1k
a/n ; it’s my birthday so i thought i’d give you all a gift :) enjoy the result of my brain rot
[ maknae line ]
if you enjoy my work, please consider supporting me ☕️
.・゜-: ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ✧ ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙ :-゜・.
chan
oh he definitely likes it
it's a term of endearment you reserve for moments when he's feeling particularly soft and cuddly
as much as chan takes care of others, he deserves to be taken care of too
you'll find him wrapped up in his blankets in bed, hair mussed from sleep
he's still getting used to the daylight, blinking slowly until he recognises your figure in the doorway
he lights up, beautiful sleepy smile making an appearance as an arm stretches out towards you
"hi baby boy," you smile. "sleep well?"
chan doesn't respond verbally, only making a feigned effort to get up
but instead he ends up beckoning you towards him with grabby hands
you laugh quietly, shaking your head as you approach
when you're close enough to reach, chan wraps his arms around you, pressing his cheek to your torso
he mumbles into your clothes
"would've slept better with you here"
you run your fingers gently through his hair, eliciting small noises of contentment from him
"well i'm here now"
chan hums, eyes closed
"how about some cuddles?"
you're pulled into bed before you have a chance to repeat the question
chan snuggles up to you instantly, burying his face in your neck and pressing himself as close to you as he can
and you know you won't be moving anytime soon
your hand resumes its course of action through his curls, which only lulls chan further into slumber
he sighs happily against your skin, whispering your name as he drifts off
"sleep well, baby boy"
minho
gets flustered
use with caution
if he's grumpy or not in the mood, the softness of the term will definitely throw him off
he'll go into flight or fight mode just out of instinct
(we all know this man is gonna choose fight)
he's not throwing hands with you
but he will be resistant to your affection
he doesn't actually want to be
but there's this little voice in his head telling him he has to – lest he turn into a complete mess
but if you catch him at the right time
a perfect mix between cuddly and clingy
he'll be completely submissive to your coddling
"hey there's my baby boy"
you walk over to where he's laying on the couch and take a seat
he automatically shifts his head into your lap, hooking an arm under your knees to get comfortable
"did you have a good day?"
"mmm"
"is that a yes?"
"mmm"
in these moments, minho resembles his cats more than a human boyfriend
he directs his pretty doe eyes towards you, making a wordless request before placing his head back down in your lap
you smile and begin to stroke his hair, fingertips fluttering across his head and down to the nape of his neck
minho absolutely keens at all the attention
and he's more than happy to stay here like this forever
"you've worked hard today, baby boy. you can rest now"
changbin
it makes him all shy but he loves it
especially when he's not feeling well
you unlock the front door one day, unsettled by the lack of noise and absence of a sweeping hug in greeting
"changbin?"
you duck your head into the kitchen and his office before working your way to the bedroom
you knock gently on the door, which is slightly ajar, before pushing it open
"bin–?"
beneath the sheets, changbin's built form is small and curled up, a tuft of dark hair peeking out
"hey, what's wrong, baby boy?"
he lowers the blankets from his face, groaning quietly about being tired and cold
and you place a hand against his burning forehead
"you have a fever, bin. give me a second, i'll be right back"
you grab the medication and a glass of water from the kitchen before returning to his side
"here, darling, drink this"
once he's done, you take the empty glass from him and stroke his cheek
his hand comes up to hold yours, fingers gripping your own tightly
"don't worry, baby boy. 'm not going anywhere. get some sleep, okay?"
changbin nods and, before long, he's falling asleep, your hand secured in his
hyunjin
blushes profusely and hides his face behind his hands
"hey don't do that, wanna see your pretty face baby boy"
you take a seat next to him, tucking a stray piece of tousled hair behind his ear
he'd had a bad day, eyes a little puffy from crying
and all you wanted to do was make him feel better
you reach into your bag and pull out his favourite snacks you'd picked up on your way home
with the way his eyes light up, a peek of his beautiful smile emerging
you can't help the warmth that spreads through your chest
"want me to put a movie on too?"
he nods and you instruct him to get comfy amongst the blankets while you set up a feel-good film
when you look back at hyunjin swaddled up like a dumpling, you can't help the smile that settles on your face
"wh-what...?"
"nothing baby boy, just love you a lot"
he buries his face in the blankets at that, shy, and whines
"hurry up so you can come cuddle me"
you click your tongue at him playfully as you wander back to his side
"no 'i love you too'?" you tease as you start the movie
he nuzzles into you, so close you can feel his heartbeat steadying, his body relaxing, as he melts in your hold
you stroke his hair, placing a kiss on his forehead
he cranes his head to look at you, whispering
"love you lots you know"
"i know baby boy, i love you too"
~
© softiejoon | let me know what you think | support me here
#skz#stray kids#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz hyung line#bang chan#bang chan x reader#chan x reader#lee know#lee know x reader#lee minho#changbin#changbin x reader#seo changbin#hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin#stray kids soft thoughts#skz soft thoughts#skz fluff#bang chan imagines
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Sleepy Baby Part 4
a/n: Part 4 got split into 2 because it was too long.
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 900 ish
Summary: Jake gets many things to think about.
Previous Masterlist Next
You groan in confusion. Something is ringing and it takes time for your half asleep brain to recognize that it is your phone. You reach for it blindly and open your eyes enough to make sure you are hitting the green accept button before answering with a mumbled hello.
“Good morning, Beautiful,” Jake's voice is altogether too chipper for you. “Did I wake you?”
You just groan back. “What time is it?”
“It is just after 9:00.” You could hear the smile in his voice. It figures that he was a morning person. “The morning is almost over, how did you sleep?”
“Not long enough,” you tell him. “It’s a bold move to call someone in the morning on a Saturday, I need my beauty sleep.” You can hear him laughing through the phone and it makes you smile even though you haven't had your morning coffee.
“You’re already beautiful.” He sounds positively giddy. “And we have to plan our date tonight.”
“I’m seriously reconsidering it,” you say, groaning as you stretch. “I didn't know you were a morning person, it might be a deal breaker for me.”
“Nonsense, you are just saying that because you can’t hit me with a pillow for waking you up.” His voice lowered. “If I was there I would have a much better way to wake you.”
“I’m not awake enough for that kind of talk.”
“Fine,” he sighs. “I was thinking you would pick the dress code and I would plan the activities.”
You frown, your brain still feels sluggish, “What if I pick a ball gown and you plan a day hiking? I can’t hike in heels.”
“What?” You can hear the confusion in his voice. “No, you tell me what you are going to wear and I will match you and plan an activity based on what we will be wearing.”
“Oh,” you can hear him laughing. “Shut up, I'm still half asleep. So if I said evening gown what kind of night would I be in for.”
“Me in my dress whites at the fanciest restaurant I can get a reservation at.” You can hear the sound of him shifting through the phone. “Honestly that will be the toughest one to swing.”
“What about a bathing suite,” you ask.
“San Diego has lots of beaches.”
“If I dress like a cowboy?”
“Have you ever rode a horse?” He asks.
“No, but it could be fun.” You tell him, “I have cowboy boots.”
“Let's save that one for a later date.”
“What about if it was business casual?” You are trying to think about other modes of dress.
There is a brief pause, “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”
“An Indiana Jones costume?”
“Museum, or a historical site.”
“A Miss Frizzle costume?”
“The science center.”
“What about—.”
Jake cuts you off abruptly. “You are just listing Halloween costumes you have in your closet aren't you?”
“Yeah, and you are right it's probably best we save the role play for another day,” you agree. “What if I wear lingerie?”
Jake inhales sharply and you grin. “I will not know if you wear lingerie,” he sighs, “because I am a gentleman and you are a lady and it is our first date, but thank you for the visual.”
“Ok, just wanted to make sure you have something to think about.” Teasing Jake has woken you up and you are looking forward to later today. “How about I wear the standard jean shorts and a t-shirt to keep our options open for the date.”
“Ok, I will plan for that, do you want to meet me there? I can pick you up so where we are going will be a surprise, but I don’t know if you are comfortable giving me your address yet.” He sounds hesitant and unsure, not wanting to overstep and you roll your eyes. Five minutes ago the man was suggesting he would wake you up with sex if he was here.
“Jake, we spoke for a half hour over two months ago and you stalked every library in San Diego until you found me, and I still gave you my number, I'll text you my address, surprise me.”
After finalizing your plans for the afternoon you stop Jake before he hangs up the phone. “You know, Jake, I’m impressed.”
“Why?” He already knows you well enough to have a slightly suspicious tone in his voice at your cheeky statement.
“We have been on the phone for well over ten minutes now.” You can't stop the grin on your face. “You know I am still in bed and you haven't once asked what I’m wearing.”
His voice sounds strained when he responds. “Kisses, I’m a gentleman.”
“Sure you are,” you agree blithely. “Just so you know it's an oversized university t-shirt with bleach marks and a big chocolate ice cream stain from when I fell asleep watching Bridgerton.” You quickly add, “don’t worry I didn’t get any ice cream on the couch.”
“I am relieved to hear that,” he deadpans. “Your upholstery was my greatest concern.”
“I knew it would be, I am also wearing rainbow unicorn shorts that are way too big and fall off when I’m walking if I don’t tie them tight enough, they also have pizza stains from when I dropped pizza on my lap.” You can hear him laughing. “I just wanted to give you a visual,” you say. “You know, give you something to think about.”
“Goodbye Kisses,” he laughs, “I’ll see you later.” You smile to yourself after saying your own goodbyes. Talking to Jake was worth the early morning wake up call.
#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin/reader#jake seresin x reader#top gun fanfiction#topgun maverick#topgun#top gun hangman#hangman/reader#hangman#hangman top gun#top gun maverick#top gun x reader
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PKAY IM HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS
So sorry if this has already been said I haven't been super active on Tumblr and only just recently got the chance to catch up on CS
First I was thinking of how the cryptid in the cornfield with the violet eyes was Eclipse or something because of the talk of needing a "vessel" similar to sun and moon with theirs and how large the cryptid was and I was thinking of if that were the case with them being super similar when the reveal happens that it would like be horrifying for y/n because their friend, who's been with them for so long (?) And cared for them and they've cared for too and promised to keep them safe turned out to be the same type of creature that gave them that scar, the hatred of cornfields, night terrors, etc
But then re reading just now because I thought (if there is I just haven't found it yet I had this realization and jumped back here) there was a part where they saw sun and moons red eyes and blamed it on remembering that first cryptid but looking back I saw the "two shadows above its head like rabbit ears" and went OMG VANNY THATS WHATS UP WITH VANESSA ITS THAT CRYPTID
But also thinking of all these other scenarios of how the reveal is gonna go, your writing is always so amazing like I'll read it several times and each time find another detail my brain didn't grab the first time it's so nice.
Like would they be in shock and freeze? Immediately go into attack mode? Would the boys be able to de-escalate the situation?
Like going with the Carnivore song (because that's what I've been listening too since I saw the other person talk about it regarding CS)
"Sitting in the dark, staring at the wall" y/n caught them returning to the vessel and is now waiting with their weapon in the trailer
"You took my heart and ate it. But I won't be your victim, can't take it anymore." Not in a literal sense, even being heart eaters they won't eat their heart, but the betrayal, y/n loves/cares for them and now finding everything was a lie
Would it happen at night sleepy time cuddles where y/n is just a bit more coherent then they expected, when they held moons real hand that one night they said themselves they were being too bold.
Will it only be when Vanny shows up and they must protect their heart?
ALSO in The Episode Of Glowing Eyes when they're sleeping under the stars "you shift your hand as a faint vibration works through moons chasis" -- ""Fine" Moon murmurs, then after a long beat, he says "We're happy."
DO THEY PURR?? I'M SOBBING I LOVE THEM
I had more thoughts earlier but I'm tired and can't remember but you're amazing
Ahhhhh! Thank you so much, babe ;-; YOUR PREDICTIONS AND QUESTIONS OH HO I AM GAZING!
As for that one little tidbit in The Episode of Glowing Eyes, hehehe, if you've read my other fics like Deep Dreams, and Double Toil and Trouble, you know I love my purring creatures ♥
*smooch ya on the head*
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ATTIC GOBLIN ?
YEAH SO when we moved in there was like this wadded up pair of pink panties in the basement that hadnt been there a few days before when we did our final walkthrough or whatever right. and then my fuzzy socks would go missing and some leggings and then our fucking FORKS which were DISCONTINUED so we cant even replace them!!!!! also the toilet paper would run out like super fast and i drink A Lot of diet dr pepper so i DO pee a lot but this was just fucken ridiculous!!!!! anyway so our one old roommate suggested ghost but me n polks were like fuck off this is OUR house!!
anyway so one day im slumped down on the couch w earbuds in having a good time and my friend kos comes downstairs to brew his sleepy ass some fresh shit tier coffee at like 5pm on a weekday. tbh i was talking about one of my homebrew blorbos being harassed and having just a great time with it so i didnt want to speak to anyone and just EXTREMELY avoided eye contact n sank as deep as i could into the bigass pillows of our honestly very nice goodwill upper middle class grandma couch. the point of that is when you walk downstairs and turn into the kitchen you cant really see me at this angle and i am DEAD SILENT bc my keyboard was apparently made of marshmallows or smth AND im metal gear box stealth mode trying to not be noticed here so i can talk about my barbies being menaced uninterrupted.
SO because of all that when kos came back downstairs for his coffee which had been brewing for probably not very long but i was in the Blorbo Zone where time is fake so i couldnt in good faith give an estimate he did NOT see me. well while hes in the kitchen puttering around i just start losing my shit on account of my blorbarbies in agonies brings me Such Joys and i think this startled him so bad he has to take a stress shower because i heard the bathroom door SLAM and the water start running. at some point after this polks comes home from work and starts pissed off nagging us over WHO MADE THIS COFFEE MESS IN MY KITCHEN!! kos comes downstairs for the Commotions and apparently the coffee pot was sitting on the counter with some fresh coffees while the rest of it fresh waterfalled all into our silverware and pots n pans spaces HOWEVER!! MYSTERY TIME!! he has not been downstairs since he started brewing his trash sludge.
INTERMISSION: THINGS TO NOTE ABOUT OUR HOUSE: the back door is literally INCHES from the downstairs bathroom. the attic is not a panel or ceiling access its just a door right by all our bedroom doors and it wont latch which was So Annoying bc the cats were UNREASONABLE THIRSTY to get up there so we had to install a loop n hook latch to keep it shut but whichever one of us did that goofed it up pretty bad bc the door is still perpetually cracked open like probably a full inch and a half. id love to take the credit for this but i think it was polks who is absolutely phenomenal at fucking up installations of things. OTHER NOTABLE THINGS ABOUT POLKS: her single biggest fear on this planet is shit like Crawlspace Man. just Some Guy living in your home without you knowing. also we have a dark little crawlspace down in the basement, for ambience
MOVING ON at this point i still dont give a shit about anything happening around me because i am inflicting sufferings upon my from scratch blorbo BUT my brain is putting the pieces together which i then immediately do a toddler vs 1000 piece puzzle it took you a year to assemble and just totally waste that shit from my thinkspace bc i wanna play DOLLS instead. polks and kos are also putting their little pieces together but they are Not braindead dipstick idiots like yours truly so they decide to check the whole haus bottom up, starting with the crawlspace. great news! the crawlspace is empty!! other older news: i def heard the cabinet ruining coffee fuckuper come down from upstairs.
i forgot to mention that for this househunt polks armed herself with our fucking broom and was wielding it handle side out because It Has Reach and a knife would Escalate The Situation. anyway they make their way upstairs and i am doing absolute jackshit nothing to help because, again, i am fucking brain poisoned to prioritize oc cummies over every single thing on this planet. its in my fucking genetic code. so while im fuckin useless theyre up there talking about how fucking weird this is and scuffling around or whatever but the second they go into the attic its dead silent and NOT because they go silent but because the attic is some fucked up sound void and past the first 3 steps you can hear total fuck all from outside. at this point my little toddler brain realizes this puzzle is actually indestructible so when kos and polkie are out of the void audible again i Already Knew i had to start being a fucking adult instead of playing barbies which DID feel like a personal affront.
tbh i dont even remember how polks reacted bc i was so CMON MAN!! at our attic dweller for cucking me bc now i gotta call the fuckin cops AND change the locks AND i still gotta get up at 420 in the mother blessed am for work, so basically this entire stunt was a hate crime against me specifically.
we dont really go in our attic much and never even bothered fetching the cats when they went up there but we HAD been up there before so when i went up there and saw fuckin blankets and takeout containers and also some clothes stuffed into drafty holes it was like, kind of Obvious that yeah some bitch was stealing my forks and not paying rent and eating all my toilet paper and FOR SOME REASON had the audacity to ALSO go ahead and pour out a cup of coffee in BROAD DAYLIGHT while we were OBVIOUSLY HOME. the fucking NERVE!!
so!! thats our Event that i honestly forget happened most of the time. we actually refer to them as Attic Dobby i think on account of my THIEVED socks but then of course attic dobby became sexy dobby as is the natural progression of things. we have many big tity dobbie drawings around the house and we love to show them to guests. i may have lost some forks i cant fucking replace so ill never have a matching set again BUT now my house has so many slutty big tit thong and louboutin adorned dobbys that kos and i have bonded so much over drawing that it all evens out in the end and i definitely dont get mad about the forks ever. less important than dobbys big naturals but still notable: exposure therapy works as polks no longer has the Crawlspace Man Terrors!
#LONG POST#i went off the fucking RAILS here i think. im runnin on 3hrs babes!!#ill share some sexie dobbi pics one day bc i know youre all BURNING for this content now#real sorry for people who follow me for shit like. cute kid shows. this is just Me#kels talks#im not fucking proof reading this shit im going to fucking BED#ANYWAY ANNA I HOPE U ENJOY THIS STORYTIME
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tragically(?) I have further blorbo thoughts sghhddjf the trope of waking up with your head in your partner’s lap but make it Neon and Eclipse’s different experiences (like how would the scenario be for each of them) - @clxckwork-sun-n-moon
Oh, oh this is cute! I am so here for this because there's like three or four scenarios that pop into my head instantly! hehe
Read more because I am about to be a GOBLIN about this vvvv
Neon waking up in Eclipse's lap:
Scenario 1; At home, doesn't matter whose but if Neon isn't actively sitting on Eclipse's lap already... Then they will easily fall into his lap. They may start getting sleepy or dozing where they sit and then slowly they lean over and pass out. Eclipse would gently position them so they don't hurt their back or neck.
And once they wake up they turn over and nuzzle further into him without thinking, and Eclipse smiles "Have a good nap, Angel?"
Neon then snaps out of their sleepy brain and realized, they are laying on his lap and actively just nuzzled into him. Whoops!~ But they're not giving in now, so they move even closer and wrap their arms around his waist to cuddle.
"Mmmm... Good nap." and from there on Neon is just cuddling very close. This would happen a lot, because comfy = nap time.
Or if they're in the mood they'd straight up just plop down on the couch and lay down n put their head there. They don't care, they wanna be close! But then whoops...! Accidental nap, and Eclipse just adores it all because he get's to be close the entire time.
Scenario 2; At work/in public, this one would not happen as often at all. But it's something that may happen anyways. During some boring meeting they may get tired and droop over, slooooowly sliding down until Eclipse repositions them onto his lap. After all, he can take notes for both of them and catch Neon up on everything later.
Or if this is in public, say they went out somewhere for an activity and Neon starts getting tired... This is prone to happen if they're sitting for a prolonged period of time, especially if they are sitting beside Eclipse. They may just start falling asleep, or if it's more open like a park or festival they may openly just laydown on the bench and rest their head.
"Want to go home?" and Neon just slowly shakes their head, "No, I'm just enjoying the view."
In all of these cases they wake up and go "Oh no, I didn't mean to nap!" but they are also so soft for the fact that Eclipse let them and even encouraged it.
Eclipse waking up in Neon's lap:
I feel like this wouldn't happen all too often? But if Eclipse crashed then Neon would sit wherever he crashed and just gently put his head into their lap. The gentlest smile down at him as they run their hand along his features, and then he wakes up to see their adoring face. Them looking so softly as they lovingly lean down and kiss him,
"Welcome back, doing okay?" and Eclipse just melts right then and there. He doesn't want to move now, just a soft "Please continue."
And who is Neon to deny the boy? They continue lovingly running their hand along his face and coo soft compliments to him <3 <3 <3
The other situation I can see happening is that Eclipse needs to charge and he just lays down on the couch n Neon just decides to lift his head and place it on their lap. N once he's finished charging he comes out of rest mode to see Neon and he melts. Pretending to be "asleep" and Neon just lets him enjoy it <3
Or maybe before he goes into rest mode he lays his head on their lap intentionally and then wakes up to still being there <3 <3 Soft boy
#Ask Zelda#clxckwork-sun-n-moon asks#New Horizons#Agent Horizon#Agent Neon#They're in love your honour#I might add this into a drabble sometime#but idk#it would be so casually#I just wouldn't think of it#like I would write it and then go#“oh wait this was in an ask!”#and then “cool”#as I keep going lmao
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For the past few years I've been taking a deep dive into various alternative genres, especially shoegaze and emo.
I initially became interested in that spectrum of rock music in my late teens (circa 2007-09), when I suddenly became aware of the type of music I had been hearing in Hot Topic and Vans Shoes stores- the latter of which is still an association I make to this day. I had also been hearing pop punk like Green Day and the recent wave of garage rock, especially since I had become a White Stripes fan a few years prior.
This stuff was very different from the classic rock I had grown up listening to on the car radio- the likes of Led Zeppelin, The Who, Boston, Queen, and Journey, as well as occasional prog tunes by Yes and Rush. (Full disclosure: 1960s and 1970s rock and pop is still my favorite kind of music, but I like to broaden my horizons.) I'm not entirely sure when and where I had first encountered alt rock- I had heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and Weird Al's "Angry White Boy Polka", but other than that, all I can figure is that it was just... around. I couldn't tell you exactly what drew me to it in the first place, either. Maybe it was just different from the blond divas and boy bands everyone else my age was listening to.
I get the impression that people my age (and skin color) are expected to have already gone through a depressed, whiny thirteen-year-old phase of blasting My Chemical Romance and Jimmy Eats World in their bedroom, but that never happened to me. It's not that middle school wasn't harrowing and traumatizing, but rebelling against my parents was never an option, because I always thought they were pretty cool. I was actually listening to *more* classic rock in middle school, as well as 1950s rock 'n' roll. In hindsight, I was probably hopped up on adrenaline rather than moping. (My angsty, dark period was 18-20, and I'm not entirely sure why.)
When I did initially dip my toe into alternative, it was alongside my discovery of Christian extreme metal bands, and great many other genres, which kept me pretty busy. So it wasn't until about four years ago (once streaming music was firmly established) that I decided to really sit down and listen to these 1990s bands that lots of people keep saying are great and "defined my generation", so I feel like I'm catching up on all of it.
This was kinda the culmination of that period of my life when my guitar amp was broken and I could only play unplugged (before I discovered amp sims). I couldn't rely on merely crunching power chords and wailing minor pentatonic scales whilst masking my lack of ability and talent by cranking the gain and the EQ all the way up to ten the whole time. I had to keep from getting bored by fooling around with weird scales, modes, and strange harmonies. I think that's one of the big reasons I like emo and shoegaze in particular, 'cause those genres tend to employ interesting, colorful chords (although the music theory and power pop sides of my brain tend to cause an internal conflict of wanting more satisfying, unambiguous cadences). Just like the rock groups of three decades ago, I had grown weary of simply playing blues licks. It's almost like history repeating itself.
But something that's perhaps more meaningful is the vocal style. I find myself refreshed by the unembellished, unintimidating singing. I was never a fan of the big, over-the-top singers in pop, r&b, or even the types who sing sappy ballads like "Alfie" or "Hallelujah", with their perfect technique, dynamic breath control, and so-called expressiveness. They always screw with the melody, sing offbeat, ignore the backing band, and leave me feeling empty and emotionless. The way singers in grunge, Midwest emo, metalcore, slowcore, etc. express weariness, anxiety, quiet contemplation, self reflection, rage, sleepiness, ennui, self-doubt, or what have you unlike any musical movement before it is incredibly inspiring, and makes me feel like I don't always have to blast the eardrums of the people sitting in the back seats of the auditorium to convey the meaning of the words. I've discovered that not all emotions in rock music have to be extreme. This is especially true now that I'm an adult and I feel the urge to slow down and mellow out, probably due to waning adrenaline levels, and I rely less on loud, fast, energetic music to keep my spirits up.
That said, I still wind up defaulting back to 1960s and 1970s music after an album or two. So I still seek to strike a balance between the two.
(I suppose by now you might be wondering what my favorite bands under the alternative umbrella are. Well, so far I've been most impressed by Nirvana, Weezer, Pavement, Sunny Day Real Estate, Cursive, Snowing, Algernon Cadwallader, Bedhead, Duster, My Bloody Valentine, Lush, Slowdive, and Ringo Deathstarr.)
#alternative#alternative rock#alt rock#music#emo#shoegaze#midwest emo#pop punk#screamo#metalcore#classic rock
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duplicating the fic tab so that i can read on one and type the reblog on the other at the same time 😌☝️ this fic deserves a reblog solely for the tag 'wearing mingi's t-shirt' bc honestly same that too would make me feel many feelings grrrr
wooyo using his 'soft' voice and STILL being threatened to either shut up or be on nappy duty i- also if the woosan treatment comes with heartbreak, i would very happily take heartbreak any day :))))
oH MY GOD NOT THE HANDSOME ATTRACTIVE STRANGER AT THE BAR BEING YUNHO i cannot handle the thought of casually making out with a hunk like him pls i am not worthy
“I don’t like to be called other people’s names during sex, sorry, not my kink.” CHOKED HAHAHA YUN or was it yang, yeong?
okay that drunken phone call was so so so cute bai that's illegal. firstly mingi's husky sleepy voice GAH my brain is so rotten even zombies wouldn't want to eat it. and then there's mingi bombarding questions after questions bc he's woRRIED~~~~ 🤭🤪 are you okay where are you are you at the club did someone hurt you where are you DKLFJSDGSH need this in mp3 recording form so that i can set this as my ringtone / alarm even though my phone is permanently set to silent mode
HAHAHA the image of drunken reader's brain going ! ! ! ! at the sound of pouring and going all loopy and ! ! ! is that more alcohol ! ! ! let's get the party started ! ! ! is so hilarious
mingi wise boi 🫡 u made bad decision? ok how can u choose better? mingi also best boi 🥰 i kiss u when u sober - not gentlemanly, just the bare minimum
THE BARE MINGIMUM ok nm that doesn't look as appealing as the pun sounded in my head lol but N E WAY pls can i marry mingi omg but like in all seriousness the way he communicates and helps reader work through the problem through guiding her through all the messy emotions and thoughts and not be being like tHis iS WhAT YOu SHoULd do
the L word 👀 loren 👁️👅👁️
AJKGSDJKGD MINGI TELLING HER TO KEEP HIS SHIRT ON WHILE THEY DO THE SEGGS ARF ARF
i think this was my favourite interaction honestly
mingi: u looked bootiful reader: wdym u were literally behind me mingi: beautiful from all angles hehe 😅
LOVE LOVE LOVED THIS SO MUCH BAI <3 <3 <3
Use me (part 2)
THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR LEO KING'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)
(part 1) (masterlist) (perma-taglist)
🥂 pairing: non-idol!mingi x fem!reader (implied yun... x reader - i wonder who...) 🥂 genre: smut, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers-ish 🥂 summary: you try to forget and return to what you know best, but what is on a sober mind quickly turns into a drunk phone call and a life-changing confession. 🥂 wordcount: 22.5k 🥂 warnings/tags: language, alcohol/drinking, over-drinking/being drunk, toxic behaviour, risky behaviour, unhealthy coping, trauma, implied past abuse/assault, flashbacks, numbing, one night stands, learning to love, learning to feel, mingi driving through the night, implied psychologist!mingi as job, fools in love and lust 🥂 taglist: at the bottom of the fic~ 🥂 a/n: this has been long in the works, first as a haunting thought, then as what you may see here. i'd love to dedicate this fic to @byuntrash101 <3 thank you for your continued support, for our love and friendship <3 to everyone, i appreciate you all, any and all reblogs, notes, thoughts appreciated, much love!
🥂 nsfw tags: dom-leaning switch!reaader, sub-leaning switch!mingi, protected sex, thigh riding, fingering, handjob, blowjob, facial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, implied squirting, dirty talk, pet names (darling, doll, gorgeous... others...), loving talk/pillow talk, mentioned aftercare and general gentleness, reader is sober atp, explicit asking for consent, wearing mingi's t-shirt, a lot of kissing because they are all over each other, a whole lot of doting, sex that is like a hug
"I love you..."
A slam of the door.
Where it all began.
You. Left in a loud solitude. Ceasing to stifle your sobs with your tee and letting out an animalistic cry. An innocent creature who trusted unconditionally, only to be shot at point blank and abandoned once the fun chase was over. There was no one out there except yourself to mourn your loss. Trapped in a dark room for what you believed to be the rest of your years.
Harsh reality collapsed on you under impossibly strong gravity, and trapped you with one brutal swipe. Your heart was being eaten away by your acidic mind that kept on replaying, replaying, replaying the moments that had led to your metamorphosis. A catharsis in reverse, an autonomous inflictor of agony festering in every crevice.
It was funny how one's thoughts could be so lucid, come the worst. You could clearly recollect just how grateful you had been that your mother, as always, was out of town, and upon her return would be in oblivious bliss, and how ‘wonderful’ it was that there was nothing to look forward to for the next day. Or perhaps ever. You did not want to lift your hopes again and again only for them to descend faster than light to the pits of hell signed with your name. No need. There was enough time to prepare your space, invite and get to know your unrelenting demons before the alarms reminding you of basic social functioning would ring, and your body would be torn from your whirlpool of torment to enter the hustle and bustle of crowds. Not one person was aware of who they were walking with. Who they were walking past. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, and you tore yours out in an effort to distort and move on.
The luxury of time before the ringing of the digital bells. You could cleanse yourself until your skin was no longer yours, until what remained of your willingness to perceive could spot the etchings of a body. You could cut out every part of you that served as a reminder. Subject each one to the savage ritual, until you were pure. The perfect angel once more, no longer decorated in shades of blue and maroon inside and out. You could remove each lobe, each cortex of your brain and douse it in the strongest agents, and to the rhythm of the rippling waters from the sink submerge them in the illusion of bliss.
And yet, you had not moved an inch, choosing to remain as a stranger in your own flesh.
You could fight back. You could rise above and spit the venom of the scorned and those isolated by societal hellfire, raise the flag and tell the story of those who could not. Be larger than yourself, a self-starting role model, redefine yourself as someone who used their past as motivation, as a foundation for unshakeable morals that would lead you to a humanity-changing greatness.
But what good was it when you stopped feeling? What happened? Who were you?
It was a wave that took you in, providing you the satisfaction of prolonged sensory suffocation, suspending you in senseless attitude, order, and disposition. The self-hating rebellion that had reared its head and manifested itself within you, turned you into something out of a nightmare. But you had never realised just how intricate and terrifying was the persona you had materialised within yourself. The cavities and taboos that had now become intricacies and embellishments of the scarred soul would have been repulsive to you before. To the one who existed before that damned day, hour, minute, second.
Numb. You were numb. Always numb. Cruising through your years, silencing any possibility of truly healing. Because no. You were not damaged - you would spit at anyone who dared to call you that. You were not hurt - no signs of weakness could be found on the surface, and this was how you were surviving. You were above it. Nothing happened. What were you talking about? Nothing. Nothing at all. That was what you kept repeating to yourself until the mantra turned into the truth. Truth be told, you were not sure what you were mourning anymore, except that if you did not, out of habit, it would hurt until you would be twisted limb by limb into submission. And the life you had chosen would begin again - new day, same mistakes.
In the process of your radical renaissance into a fatal night-time goddess, you did try to find love. Those had been the last cries of a helpless bird plummeting from the sky. But it all cycled back to the same old thing. Besides, if nobody around you knew what love was, how could you be expected to comprehend, let alone give it? You could not be bothered to believe that there were outliers, nor delve into the reasons why things like ‘friends’ ever stuck around. You lived, you breathed, and that was good enough. You wanted to purge yourself of love.
That was how the three little words, in that haunting sequence, came to be your personal poltergeist; a curse to summon a despicable demon that you vowed to never utter. Bloody Mary, Beetlejuice - sure. Just not those three words. They had lost their significance aside from being the root of your troubles and despair. The words did not mean a person would stay. The words were not a promise that you would not be hurt. The words were not a shield that you could hide behind. So instead, you took to sharpening knives, being a spiteful hedonist in search of the last laugh.
Little did you know, love was a creative sadistic monster, and had been by your side all this time. It chose to attack you during the most pleasurable high – one that you had crafted and followed in perfunctory resistance.
"I love you, Y/N..."
It was almost the same. Only this time, it was you shutting the door. Running from yourself.
Your getup appeared almost comical now, as you sat, doubled over on the sofa in Wooyoung’s and San’s apartment. What had been a stunning pair of pumps was now a miserable member of the abandoned shoe society, piled in a corner right by the entrance and masked by an ancient collection of plastic bags, courtesy of San’s resourcefulness. The black dress that was threatening to ride further and further up your thighs at any moment was nothing more than shame vehemently clinging onto your skin.
While you were combating the whirring tornado of short- and long-term memories with a bouncing leg and a zoned-out stare into the carpet, your friends remained equally silent, knowing better than to disturb. Over the years they had never asked why you did things the way you did. They merely learned the patterns and accepted you as you were – an action for which you could never repay them, so you simply hoped that, at least sometimes, you were doing the same if they needed it.
Your cryptic sequence was broken only when you felt a warm fabric being draped over your shoulders, making you instantly stiffen, alert. The rush of foreign sensations made you gasp as your eyes darted up, to be met by San’s, who was sitting across from you on a faux leather ottoman. You had no recollection of when he had moved it from its original position by the wall, between the TV stand and an indoor palm tree, and it made you strangely guilty. You really had a knack for not paying attention to those close to you.
When San noticed your unfocused gaze, he slowly raised both of his hands, palms up, inhaling at the same time, and then lowering them, along with an audible, level exhale. You chuckled, making him break into a small grin – you were coming back. Not quite ready to touch what appeared to be a jacket or cardigan that was now embracing you, you put your own hands between your thighs, feeling their miniscule tremors as the adrenaline high subsided.
“You’re literally shivering, Y/N. Do you want me to, uh, bring you a blanket? We have a nice wool throw; a gift from San’s… mom… so you know it’s going to be cosy.” Wooyoung cautiously explained to you in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. He was standing off to your right, arms crossed.
The last time you had heard him use such a soft tone was when you had come with him to visit a friend’s newborn – and even then, he had to have been reminded to ‘shut it or he would be on nappy changing duties for a week’. It made you want to scream, act out, anything to push away this coddling and belittling that was passed off as sympathy. Oh, how you despised when people seemed to walk on eggshells around you. There always existed a desire within you to prove to others that you never needed help, or at least would never ask for it explicitly. That was why, even now, during your rather turbulent departure from the first night in a while that you knew you would not forget no matter how much you might want to, you did not want to play it cool. You needed to.
“That’s because you guys appear to be saving on your electricity bills. I told you: an apartment with heated floors is a bad idea.” you attempted to keep your voice level, but it remained airy and weak, wholly ignoring your efforts. It was as if somehow, your body was physically worn from the marathons you ran in your mind.
“But it keeps my feet nice and toasty.” Wooyoung whined and wiggled his toes demonstratively
“Which is why you… ah nevermind. Cool apartment, either way. I knew you guys were secretly interior designers.”
The topic change helped you get more comfortable in your skin. You finally managed to find the energy and courage to grab onto the edges of the jacket, which had turned out to be Wooyoung’s beloved grey fleece zip up hoodie and pull it tighter around you. It wasn’t so hard to recognise the relief that had washed over your friends’ features as they saw you carry out the simple motion. It really was cold. Though you had no way to distinguish between the internal and external.
As you transitioned from reliving the past to inching through the present, step by step until you found yourself leaning against a kitchen counter with a mug of hot coffee cradled in your hands, your habitual mindset returned. The lines, turned stark and agonising after hearing those forbidden words had regained their hazy infusion, reinvigorating you with a pleasant buzz of numbness, reminiscent of the prickly sensation when muscles just began to wake up, albeit more lulling, something only a person who was alive in the soul was capable of experiencing. It was not long until your friends’ suggestions and extensive monologues began to fall flat on your ears, drifting through your body and expelling themselves to never be remembered. You watched their lips move, their hands paint pictures of a future for you in the air, and yet it all turned to darkness. You swiftly turned the lights off to their reprimands, their comfort, just like you had done before. It was clear that they did not expect much from you either, otherwise why would they sound so well-practised? A sense of deja vu washed over you; as if you had been in the same place before, with the same heavy weight in your chest, cradling the same mug and drinking the same beverage. Were you ever going to change?
Wouldn't it be funny if you knew how to follow advice? Technically you did. For an entire two weeks thanks to Wooyoung and San forcing you into a movie night with them on the Friday in the middle of the madness - you do not remember a single one of the movies watched, all of them having turned into a blur, and you: a jittery mess. You needed your weekly diversion, your sensual fix that you had ingrained into your routine as if it was yoga or pilates. Tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to. Your version was just a lot more exciting than the average physical exertion in the name of wellbeing. So as you had sat between your two friends, with San having his hand lazily thrown over your shoulders, serving as your head rest, and Wooyoung having made your lap into his pillow, you envisioned a different comfort for yourself. All this cosiness was making you choke, suffocating you as an anaconda would at an astonishingly fast pace, and you could feel that another second more and you would prefer to call your closest friends - strangers. You needed out; at least one day of the week, like you three had done previously. You had tried to hint to San that maybe returning into the swing of things would let his heartbreak pass more quickly, but he only patted your head and gave you a melancholy smile. Though you had returned it, just to soften the blow and reassure him through his romantic solitude, behind your cheek was a bitten tongue, acting as the last straw between your molars and preventing you from making matters worse - at least for San and Wooyoung. You had nothing to say for yourself; actually, you never did. You were never one for self-descriptions or elaborations, preferring to show and not tell. Another reason why in this platonic silence, you were being driven into craving your favourite meal of depravity, where the only language spoken was that of action and seduction. If you were to succeed in moving on from the mistake that still lingered on your skin - kisses trailing the mazes of your body and ghosting over your lips, you needed to erase them by the same method. Time to take matters into your own hands, and that meant a new dress, a new pair of heels, a new club and a new accessory for one night.
You could not hear anyone nor anything. Most importantly, you could not hear your erratic heartbeat, nor the thoughts that were looming over you and speeding around your mind palace. No - if anything was going to take your breath away, it would be the lips of another stranger. Anything to erase the ones that were too laden with emotion, too laden with affection and infatuation for you. A toxic poison that had transferred right into your bloodstream and was beginning to eat you alive. You needed to escape, find a cure to this turmoil before you succumbed to the idea that anyone could care about you more than for a night. There was satisfaction in routine, in a fluorescent madness that was systematically established in your life as a way to let go, thereby gain control. You needed a hit, badly, and one so strong that the weekend would not exist for you, and Mingi's lingering touches would be fully wiped from your body. How dare he spill his darkest secrets to you, mixing nightmare with the ultimate fantasy? He was going to pay for thinking that he could control you in this way and spin threads out of your soul, not by confrontation, but by your sheer indifference. He was just a man, you had repeated to yourself like a mantra as you stepped into a club in a completely different part of town, looking ever so stunning in a deep burgundy dress; he had no influence over your actions and you owed him nothing, not even an explanation. Obviously, he was the one who had overstepped boundaries that he was supposed to sense were there, so why should you consider his melancholic eyes, the sunny smile that had set as soon as he would wake up to see you gone, the-
No. No more Mingi. Only the beautiful stranger who was devouring you with his alluring orbs, looking past his friends and making you feel as though you were the sole being in that hall. This was the man who could help you forget, at least you hoped he would. Sauntering straight to the bar, you did not spare him as much as a glance when his figure drifted past you. You could sense more gazes following you, just how you always liked it, burning away those adoring caresses that made your skin crawl; you needed a sensory and sensual apocalypse, a purgatory for the damned, reducing your life back to that familiar sin that tasted so sweet and was a stone cold bitch in the morning. You were not some frail creature waiting for a proclamation of love for the sake of validation, nor were you a seeker of such types of closeness - if anyone, it was you who knew it was more fleeting than a good fuck. At least there was satisfaction and sport to gain from the later, and the heart remained caged and untouched. It was not hard to be animalistic, all you needed to do was to give up ruminating those classic "do they like me do they not", and slam the door to social niceties shut. There was no room for feelings when you needed to fly from the tormenting earth, for they were too heavy - a ballast that you needed to rid yourself of as soon as you could. The haze, you needed to give into the tipsy haze; one drink, another, and the world was beautiful. Stunning, even. The blur was an acute desire, accentuating sensuality and letting you transform into the killer queen of the night.
In this wondrous dissociation, you could not care less about who you were nor who the people around you paraded themselves as. It was all a play-pretend, and may the most talented actors win. No one came to the club to fall in love, and if they did, they were sure to have their heart broken and stomped on, over and over, and over again. Finishing the last of your old fashioned - a drink which you had been introduced to by none other than your friend Wooyoung, you decided that it was time to let yourself go on the dance floor, only to be followed suit by the tall man whom you had subconsciously beckoned. Clearly, he was interested in the same exact thing, and took no time in approaching you, disregarding all other people, and laying a hand on your hip to lead you in a sultry, rhythmic dance further igniting your hope and anticipating desire. You chuckled to yourself as you felt that familiar buzz once more, and studied the way in which your temporary partner's muscles moved in an unbelievably enticing manner under his shirt - material for your lustful imagination. The heat from his body was addictive, and the adrenaline and dopamine-fuelled pace at which you moved to the intense beat left you even more determined than usual. You needed him. You needed this stranger, depended on him and trusted him more than any of your friends, and definitely more than a certain someone who thought he could be something more. As you took your so-called saviour by the collar and tugged so he would be only an inch away, you finally asked his name. His eyes revealed a flash of lasciviousness, just how you wanted, and he sent a shiver down your spine as he whispered back:
"And with what purpose, sweetheart?" Chuckling airily, you pulled him even closer, until he smirked and wrapped his hands around your waist, more determined, more aggressive and expectant of a continuation in this dangerous game.
"So that I know what I'll be screaming tonight."
For a second, you felt him falter, breath hitching as he took in your words, causing fear to rise in your chest as a flash of the timid lovesick angel ran across your vision, and you could almost picture Mingi instead of the canvas for a good night who you were seducing. But this did not last nearly long enough for you to back down, and a line of kisses along the jawline, intimate yet loveless, purely carnal and revering your determination confirmed your selection. This man was on your wavelength, and this man was:
"Bold of you to assume that you’ll be able to, sweetheart. I dare say it won’t be usef-."
Use me.
The phrase flashed in your mind just as the attractive man closed the space between you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Without as much as a pause, he tilted your head slightly, giving himself a better angle to lightly nibble on your lower lip, sending a shudder down your back. Fingers digging into your skin as he swallowed another sigh - a fragment of your tainted soul for him to keep, he was the embodiment of addiction. The luminance from the neon hallucinations that surrounded you were decorating your and his skin in vibrant greens and purples. He was confident, self-assured, leading despite possessing the hints of an otherwise reserved man. Your thoughts involuntarily drifted to a certain bashful someone who had ended up with you at the wrong place, at the wrong time, and you - in the wrong mindset. Tonight, you wanted to be used. This much you deserved and required in order to purge yourself of this newfound tendency to reminisce and compare everything against Mingi. Who were you? The one you chose to entertain yourself with tonight had his teasing tongue against your lips, not exactly asking for access - demanding it, and it reeled you back into the whirlpool of a daze that came with the deafening drumming of desire, growing louder and louder until nothing else would exist.
His touch - you were caught ablaze as you let him guide your footing off the dance floor and into the dimming lights towards the edges of the club’s main hall. His torso pressed against you, strong arm hooked around your upper body as he kissed the side of your neck. One blink, another and your back was pressed against a cool wall in the corridor that ran around the establishment’s perimeter, rarely traversed, often used by the likes of you and evidently, him. You could not bear to open your eyes out of fear of finding someone you did not want to see - the intensity of your recollections growing stronger with every arousing movement. The same high that you normally would be building up towards was nowhere to be sensed while your nameless lover reached for your breast, cupping and kneading it with an open, salacious wanting. There was little left to the imagination, just as you had initially wanted, and yet something was missing from the series of events that the universe offered to you; the storyline that you had crafted was beginning to get dreary. Squinting down to force yourself into this darling’s passionate kisses, you still struggled to rid yourself of the monologues, the fears and most importantly, the terror-inducing phrase that had pierced through your heart and left shrapnel in every organ, turning into butterflies in your stomach and flowers in your lungs. It hurt to discover yourself in the same situation as before, always looking for something and someone better. Clearly, your stalling and rapid cooldown had not gone unnoticed as the man pulled away, hands back on your hips, one lifting to readjust your dress a little. What had been the glare of a predator was replaced with an almost friendly concern, and the danger which you had craved a mere few minutes ago evaporated, leaving behind an approachable gentleman, the swiftness of the change nearly giving you whiplash.
“Trying to forget someone?”
The question was jarring, somehow more jarring than how he was now presenting himself. With a glance to either side, he took you by the hand, leading you away from what was about to be your scene for a one night stand and back to the main hall. Stumbling over your feet you barely kept up with his pace, his taste, his scent still consuming you and rendering you to move and think slower, the combination with the ringing of alcohol in your bloodstream proving to be reckless, nearly deadly. As the thrum of a hip hop track reset the heart’s pace, jolting you awake and clambering for any kind of reassurance, your eyes met the tall beau’s gaze once again. He had smoothed the locks that you had ruffled, his slightly swollen lips, curled into a lopsided grin being the only sign of what had just unfolded. You could not help but raise an eyebrow, only now registering his question and deeming the gesture to be an appropriate response.
“I don’t exactly fuck emotional baggage, if you get what I mean.”
“Ouch, but fair.” breathless, you squeezed the answer out of your throat, unsteady.
“Glad we understand each other, uh…” he trailed off, attempting to recall the name you did not give. You tilted your head, trying to do the same for him, but failing to find an answer. Did it slip your mind? The recent past turned to centuries, accelerating into emptiness.
“Hm?”
“Yeah. Just, glad we’re on the same page, I guess.” he cleared his throat, looking back at the vibrancy of dance and sensuality unfolding before you. The music changed once more - once again, another song about a body count and about substances that you would never mention in the daytime. At least not yet. Your head began to hurt, perhaps only a little more than your heart.
“Y/N.”
“Mm…ha. Nice to meet you. You can call me… Yun.” he deliberated for a while before giving you what you assumed to be either a nickname, or a parting gift of a syllable just for you.
“Nice to meet you, Yun.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, it was clear that he was looking for the right words to let you down slowly and make a swift escape back to his own life, his own friends, his own respective path that was far from yours. Very likely, as it should be. With a sharp exhale, you smiled, making it your turn to induce perplexion. With every vice came sacrifice and risk, and this type was far too common. Be it from starting on the wrong foot or losing the rhythm and steam in the process, two people under the cover of night with nothing tying them together were bound to drift away, it was simply a matter of when. Evidently this was happening sooner rather than later for you and what you had been hoping would be a solution to your anguish. It had to have been your fault, you told yourself while an unreadable gleam settled on your features and you gave the man a single wave to suggest that he need not bother with excessive politeness - after all you had gotten to know each other well enough for that, at least in your books.
“Guess I am right then.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Your reaction.”
“Meet quote unquote emotional women often?”
“They seem to be my type.” you chuckled as he shifted his stance and took a step closer to you, only to turn his body to observe the dance floor while standing by your side. As friends would. An involuntary memory stabbed at your side one again as you mumbled back:
“Maybe you’re a magnet.”
“I don’t mind when they look so good,” with a look to the side, Yun regarded your pose - leaning against the wall, arms crossed, previous aims for allure forgotten as your eased into a more comfortable back and forth, the rush ebbing away to be replaced with an anxious dissatisfaction, “Alas, you are in too deep I fear.”
“Am not.” you hissed out, brows knitting together as you desperately clung onto the present, only to hear and see the same voice, the same words, the same man who you were so adamant to erase. With every sentence uttered by the man, Mingi became more prominent. A laughing stock to the self and to all others - you shook your head. What had gotten into you?
“I don’t like to be called other people’s names during sex, sorry, not my kink.”
The out of pocket line, completed by a realisation at his own choice of words coaxed a chuckle out of your otherwise progressively crumbling state. Even though you had tried to remain below your limit, the alcohol in your system was hitting you with an inexplicable force, the pounding of your chest travelling to your temples, getting stronger until you could barely focus on Y- was it Yun? Yang? Yeong? You needed something to dull this. Remove this. Cut it out of your system so that you did not have to think.
“Fair.” you forced out, the neutral smile remaining on the lips, lingering traces of a falsified passion becoming your new tint, a colour you liked to wear so often it could be your favourite.
“Have a good night, yeah? Sorry things couldn’t be more fun, darling.”
There it was, you could read it on his face. Embarrassment, pity, the hope to never encounter you again. The reason why you always left first, turned around and strode away into the darkness from whoever it was you were to pick for the night. Including the one man who had revealed his soul to you; his innermost thoughts. And just like an automaton, a faulty machine, you blended his heartfelt words with the filth made for a landfill of lies and dread. The back of the failed thrill, whose name was just out of reach, growing smaller and blending into the scenery was a slap across the face, even though you had told yourself time and time again that you had seen enough of the same to not be affected. It had to be the lights, you told yourself. Definitely the lights. And how they reminded you of Mingi, how his eyes reflected the hues as he stared into yours so tenderly, like he was seeing an angel. How he gently held you, your fragility becoming his eternity as he whispered the words that acted like the flutter of the butterfly’s wings that caused the storm. Logic was struggling to keep up with your rumination - this was a different club and a different man, nothing about this could ever amount to the night you had felt like a goddess. If anything, the abandonment was gnawing at your flesh like a foul, feral beast, exposing you more than your dresses ever could.
An airy laugh accompanied your amble towards the bar. You should have known - after all, if you were told to not think of the pink elephant, you would only think of the pink elephant. Same with the ‘no Mingi’ rule. It was an endless cycle that you were trapped in, and as days stretched out into two weeks, the avoidance was becoming unbearable. Your hand moved on its own as you called the bartender over, mouth and throat working together, far removed from your mind as they ordered champagne. Why? What was there to celebrate? There was no way of knowing, but the bubbles were your closest friends tonight, and you wanted to forget what just happened and whatever was supposed to happen until Saturday were to roll around - tomorrow could be the day you took care of the dirty laundry.
It did not take long for the beverage to transform you, and in a matter of a quarter of an hour with two or so glasses down you were back on the dance floor. But the vigour, the style and the soaring supremacy were nowhere to be found. As you tried to find your place among the sweaty bodies, nudged around by sharp elbows and tugged away by grubby hands, the sensation of belonging was but a mirage. Slow, you wanted to be anywhere in this cesspool of limbs, move along with the rest of the masses and get lost in the action so you did not have to consider your own movements, giving yourself up to the inertia of a wild crowd. One push, another, you were crammed between one figure and another, another push and a snag at your hair and you were flinging yourself wildly to an illusion of freedom in a different section of the floor. A phone flying beside you, barely an inch away from your cheek, flicking your earring and momentarily blinding you with a flashlight that had been left on. What were they looking for, you wondered. Perhaps the same thing as you. As you spun your head around, the pounding getting louder once again, the shoving had become more aggressive and two rough hands landed on your waist, supported by a lewd greeting. Jolted awake from chaotic musings, you grabbed a fistful of someone’s shirt, screaming out until the bubbly was rendering your speech incomprehensible - someone had to help you. Commotion unclear, breathing unsteady, the hands, the legs the torsos and heads all morphed into one creature who you were battling in your last fit of rage. Another pull, earning a yelp, and you were encountered with a familiar face. Y, or was it A, or I? Something or other, his name was a mystery to you. Tall. Handsome - you thought. In the blur it was impossible to detect. You remembered that he tasted sweet. Or maybe not - the champagne had taken over your system, your miniature party for one. Pushing yourself off the man you stumbled towards what you remembered to be the emergency exit. At least you were careful enough to avoid dragging yourself out of a club in shame from the front entrance; you were not that inexperienced to allow yourself to do that.
Cursing under your breath you put one hand on the black wall of the corridor that would lead you to your freedom. Passing by a place your instinct was telling you was significant, you paused, only to shake your head and step forwards. One, two, three, four - congratulations, you could count. The coolness of the metal on the door was a relief as you leaned over unceremoniously to press your forehead against it, not caring if someone were to see you. You sighed into the sensation as the metal absorbed some of the heated rush, a portion of clarity returning to you and reminding you of your initial mission. That was right, you needed to get out. And ‘needed out’ in general.
With one quick shove the door swung open, spitting you out onto the sidewalk of, much to your fortune, a less crowded street, occupied for the most part by equally inebriated party-goers, celebrating the miracle that was a Friday night - a time that was slowly turning into your nightmare. A cacophony of beats and melodies from one club, another, all accumulating in a sonorous hellscape to render your senses almost fully numb. Feeling the air in front of you, you swore you could touch every particle, tendrils of wind brushing past you like a busy stranger. While there were not that many people, some yelling, others laughing wholeheartedly from the belly to the heavens, others simply enjoying the drinks that they carried out from their venues of choice, they most certainly had enough of a presence to leave you pitifully shattered. All eyes, of all hues and intensities, rolling and glaring and focusing on you. Poring over your miserable form and minimising you into a vermin under observation, a bacterium trapped on a petri dish under a microscope. They knew, they had to know about what had happened - about everything. They could read you from one year to another and were ready to tear you apart. They knew that you were a slave to the escapism, knew that you were a creature of lascivious habit, knew that you were thoughtlessly hurting the people you loved-
Loved. Nausea caught up to you as the word crawled into the forefront of your dazed mind, settling like a viscous tar over every subject matter and memory, over consciousness itself. Though it was nearly impossible to finetune your movements, you managed to locate the pole of a streetlight without having to slam a swinging hand into it for guidance, and slide down onto the edge of the cold pavement. Narrowly avoiding a discarded bottle, caked with unrecognisable substance and pulp from the wet and tarnished label, you felt your weight press into the stone, hoping that you would dissolve into the painfully rigid material. Elbows on your legs and hands on your face, you desperately tried to wipe the word away - you did not mean it, did you? You never had to say it, why say it now? Your familiar monster reared its head, drinking every last droplet of your sobriety to combat what you had admitted. Who did you love? Two legs drifted past you, stopping for a second to let a voice call out to you before you waved them off. Click-clack, click-clack away and away, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again. Who did you love? The pounding of your heart was overwhelming you, and you could barely hear yourself over its chaotic drumming. Who did you love? While it was easy to imagine your closest friends, the same ones who had tried to protect you from yourself and who, undoubtedly, were now cursing your name and the ground you walked on, your brain decided that there was another, less welcome character that should join the scene. With a groan, you clenched your hands into white-knuckled fists and hit your temples, once, twice as though that would help in getting rid of the precious image.
This had to be happening because Mingi said it first. The reason why Mingi was the one to persistently sway you, haunt you even when you were purposefully trying to drown in yourself and others, had to be because he planted those words in your mind when you least expected it - forced them upon you, an unwelcome gift. This was how it always happened: drawn in by the attention, promised a future and wholehearted adoration, you gave your all, only for the one who dared to utter the words to step away, having fulfilled their needs. ‘I love you’ was an exchange token, and apparently, your local currency. Like a penny out of rotation, those words should not hold any meaning, but they did, and you hated yourself for it. You hated how easily they had rolled off Mingi’s tongue, hated how they replayed in your head more times than you could process, hated how they were the words you wanted to hear again. Out of all the words in every language, these were the ones that introduced pain to the world.
He needed to answer for himself, your mind decided. Your rationality would consider the consequences later. Now, you needed answers. To what questions? That, too, could be decided at a later time. Clumsy hands searching in your purse, roughly pushing aside a slim card wallet and keys to take out the device which was now illuminating your fatigued features, the glare of the screen making you squint, every number and letter barely legible due to an intense blur that dominated your vision. If only you could wipe it away - a hand reaching to rub at the eyes, not caring for the eyeshadow nor the mascara, more darkness, friction, light again. As you moved the phone closer and further away from you in an attempt to find a golden distance that would give you better focus, as if you were operating with a broken camera, the thumb kept on searching for the right number. Contact after contact names flew by, turning into one continuous line, with the surnames and nicknames twisting and turning like snakes, colliding trains in your brain until finally, you found him. Not in the contacts, but in the myriad of messages you had left on read - another pattern characteristic of yours. It was not that you wanted to leave people behind, but your hands never felt strong enough to respond, and your thoughts could never tie together a satisfactory response. So you stayed silent.
He had checked on you, apparently. Asked if you were okay. The first time was two weeks ago. Then ten days. Then, radio silence. Probably was mad at you. You could not blame him. There had been no explanation, nor any wish to contact from your end - while it was what you usually did to strangers, not catching their name beyond the bedroom, nor ever seeking them out after you used their bodies, Mingi had been a friend. Not anymore, at least that was certain. But still, habit could not cut it here. This was why you needed answers - why could he not act like everyone else and fall in line, into the clear cut moulds? Finger hovering over the call button, now burning into your skin, you could not stop yourself from shaking. Biting your lip, all hints of colour replaced by a rekindling fire, you took the step over the edge, repeating his name in your head like a mantra as the call connected, and you imagined his phone starting to ring, somewhere out there in the city. Suddenly, your thoughts could not be more lucid, and you could almost see how the device would be vibrating on his bedside table. Right, he had to be asleep by now, surely. Just as you were about to end the call, however, the screen changed, and the time began to climb from zero.
“Uh… it’s… midnight or something… Y/N?” his husky voice, husky, warmer than the summer sun answered you. You remained quiet, afraid of letting this moment go, “Y/N? Are you okay?” he was asking if you were okay-
“Where are you?” a new harshness snapped you out of your temporary stupor.
“I- uh… I- am…” you tried, but could not find the right answer, however much you tried.
“Are you at… a club?” The pause was nearly lethal. You focused on the rustling in the background - it seemed that you were right and he indeed was in bed. Not anymore. A sigh and a thump, more movement. He was disappointed, wasn’t he? But he was listening. He had to listen to you.
“Not… not anymore.”
“Did someone hurt you?” The question felt foreign, unexpected. You raised your head, hugging your knees to your body, a terrible frailness seeping to your very bones.
“N-no…”
“Where are you?”
You could not believe that you were talking to Mingi. After all this time he was still talking to you, answered your late night call and was asking how you were. An angel in human form, so precious, so cute. A giggle escaped you as you found a slightly less dirty spot on the concrete to lean back and rest your hand on. Feeling some tension in your back unwind, your muscles were given freedom to turn restless. You wanted to scream, but that was bound to make Mingi end the call, and you did not quite want to stop listening to that voice of his - your strange addiction. Eyes closing, you let him repeat the question again, accompanied by jingle that could only be his keys.
“I…”
“Street? Sign? Anything? Y/N,” he paused, exhaling, “...talk to me.”
“About…?” you asked, not catching onto what he meant.
“About the damn location. I am coming to get you.”
“Wait… really?” you slurred, fighting the desire to pass out, weighed down by another wave of tiredness.
“Yes. You are drunk. It is the least I can do.”
“What’s the most?”
“Location, for fuck’s sake. Check the street name or something. Can you walk?” he shot back, louder than before, speaking right into the microphone, the last bits of sleep evaporating from his tone, leaving behind the deep vocal ocean that you wanted to drown in.
“Uh huh,” whether you were lying or not, you were about to find out. Clambering for the street light once again, you heaved yourself up, barely catching yourself before tumbling back down, unstable on your heels. Clearly, your heavy breathing was caught by the phone as you heard Mingi asking if you were okay, again, “...just peachy, darling.”
The pet name never sounded more natural and comforting than now, flying to and through Mingi like lightning. The silence over the line was a terrifying suspense, making you wonder about what you said. You could not find anything particularly wrong. Wasn’t this how people who cared about one another spoke? Blinking away the stars in your eyes that were ceaselessly twirling in flashes of white and black, you wobbled towards a rectangle on the corner of the small street, which had to be the sign that Mingi was asking for. Mumbling the words on the board, half to yourself, half to him, you commended the otherwise laughable victory of being able to pick out the characters and interpret them.
“Okay… not too terribly far. I’ll come pick you up. Do not wander. Did you hear me?”
“Mhm…”
“What did I say?”
“...uh something about wandering, right?” An exhale. More footsteps.
“Stay where you are. Stay. Heard me?”
“Yes Mingi darling, I did.”
“Good I- yeah. Just. I’ll be right there.”
Beep. Silence. A car in the distance darting past. Laughter. A flicker of the streetlight. The breeze caressing your legs. People walked past as you hugged your form, aware that it would not do anything to help you. You were counting the threads, the pieces of cloth sewn together to form what you had considered armour with the tips of your fingers, every groove accentuated as you swayed in your solitude, convinced that what had just happened was a dream. It had to have been. Who would listen to you in this state? It had to be your mind playing tricks on you, feeding you more and more visions until you would snap under them.
Fine. You were going to call him tomorrow, yes, that was right. When you were feeling better, you would call Mingi, apologise. Maybe over a coffee - yes that was better. Did he drink coffee? Was he even in town? Questions climbed up the walls of your consciousness while you, frustrated with the way in which the straps of your high heels were digging into your skin, crouched to take the culprits of your physical pain off. One shoe, another, and you were freed from the localised dolor. Stillness transforming into an amble, you made it a mission to walk to the larger street. There, you could get a taxi - there were always many of them around night time in neighbourhoods like this, kind drivers with kind metres if you gave them a pretty enough smile.
Stay where you are. I love you. Stay where you are. I love you. Stay where you are.
Who said that? You froze mid stride, losing balance onto to have your back hit the brick wall of the building to your side, just under the sign you had read out to -
So it did happen after all. You had talked to Mingi. Moaning out in frustration, you slid down the rough structure and onto the ground beneath you, throwing an empty water bottle and a fast food wrapper away from you in anger. Unable to recall what you had said to him, you settled for piecing together his voice, hands emulating the linking of a jigsaw puzzle in front of you. Purse having long become a bracelet, and phone clenched in one of your hands as if it was permanently linked to your body, the only thing that existed was every phrase that he had uttered into your ear, like he was standing by you. So much for not thinking of Song Mingi. Way to go. What a treacherous night this was. Head feeling heavy, you began to give into the signs of oncoming slumber, nodding off, cheek approaching shoulder, earring brushing over bare skin.
Mingi was not one for breaking the law, but his accelerator most certainly was. Rushing past every traffic light as though each one was a checkpoint, he sped through the city’s sleepless streets, only the final destination being his priority. Heart pounding, he barely looked at the navigator on his phone as he slammed on the gas. Ridiculous. Radical. If he were to ever tell his friends about this, they would call him a fool. After two weeks of nothing, for him to jump at the first call - he was clearly making the same mistakes, every turn a wrong one. If scouting clubs for the next pleasure hit was your addiction, burning himself on your flames was his. In the icy silence his days had been serene, and he hated it. There was no expectation, nor any hope for him to cling to. In the morning after you had left, even though Mingi had anticipated this and promised himself that he would not be upset, his preference was clear: it was better to live in an illusion rather than face the fact of not being wanted, and never standing a chance. You had turned your attention to him when he had asked for you to use him - that was the place he should have known and stayed if he wished for you to ever look in his direction again.
That was why when his phone lit up with your name, and a photo filled the screen, one that he had taken of you when you, him, Wooyoung and San had all gone to a nature reserve for a spontaneous weekend getaway which you probably did not remember but it was precious to him, he threw sleep out of the window. It was easy enough, considering his recent pre-sleep routine of rationalising the events of that night. His mind was already trained on you when he finally got you to speak. You were floating, not quite like yourself, but your feelings were clear - not a hint of malice towards him, dreamy, rendering him breathless.
Mingi blamed himself for not being persistent enough, instead choosing to take a step back and give you whatever space you wanted or needed. He had done that in university when you were still friends, he had done it right up until that night, it was nothing new. Let you forget him until you suddenly craved his company, or felt it necessary to invite him to whatever function you had scheduled. Running a hand through his hair, short and strawberry blonde, hints of pink across the strands giving way to darker roots, he tried to calm his nerves. It was torturous to picture you in a vulnerable state, on a night when you normally felt and looked invincible. But since you called him, it was his duty to ensure that this held true.
Only a couple of minutes later, Mingi found the required street and, upon making a turn he slowed down and halted beside a figure curled up by the side wall. He cursed himself for not being faster. Panic shot up his spine and across every limb. He made a beeline towards you, shutting the door to the driver’s seat particularly hard in his distress. Assuming the worst, Mingi was in front of you in the matter of seconds, crouching down to peer at your face, noticing the smudged mascara, lipstick traces trailing onto your skin, flushed cheeks, sickly, glazed over and half-lidded eyes. Scowling, he regarded you in your Friday night glory, wondering why you thought you deserved this self-treatment in the first place.
“Y/N.”
No response. You remained stationary, with only your head occasionally threatening to fall to the side, hair snagging on the rough, eroded bricks behind you. Carefully, Mingi reached out, balancing himself on his bent knees, and pushed back a lock that was obscuring your face, convincing himself that you looked better already. Heart aching, he tried calling out to you another time, and then another, naively hoping that you could ascend from your state in an instant. As he put his hands on your delicate shoulders, gingerly tilting you forwards and away from the freezing, disgusting wall, he bit back his logic and chose to listen to the senses that you had so easily manipulated.
Was this really the same person who had him wrapped around her finger? Malleable, putty in his hands you sank into his hold as he wiggled back to try and get you to find your own footing. Rising into a standing position, he lifted you up, sighing in relief when, even if only automatically, you followed the movement. He wanted to be mad at you - his brain was yelling for him to leave, return to the comfort of his home, alone, and let you figure things out for yourself. That was easy - just forget about you and have no morals. Sure. You were in a dangerous situation. But did you not have any friends who could take care of you? Where were they? Head turning side to side as if that would give him an answer, Mingi checked his surroundings. Only a collection of strangers, some of whom were enjoying the free entertainment, at least until they felt his glare settling on them. Quick feet on the pavement, dissipating into the midnight darkness.
“Oh… oh…” you groaned, as though waking up from a restless slumber. In his surprise Mingi nearly slipped, only just managing to support you again by hooking his arms around your torso instead of under your arms.
“Y/N, you are like, drunk drunk.”
“Just a lit-tle tipsy… is all, Mingi darling,” you answered slowly, lifting a hand to pinch your thumb and index finger together to show just how sober you were apparently - if only the move was coordinated, then maybe at least it could have given a good laugh.
The affectionate pet name was ringing in his head, and no matter how much, and with what strength he was trying to brush it off, the buzzing persisted. Clinging onto him, a vexatious beast, echoing the weeks that had gone by after he had so willingly given himself up to you. If he were to be honest with himself, he would not be able to forget you even if by some futuristic miracle, he would be able to reset his consciousness. You were his nightmare and his dream, a haze in which he was lost for as long as he was alive. Cursing himself over and over, he opened the rear door closest to the two of you, whispering his sequence of moves out loud, knowing full well that you were probably not observing, nor listening.
The only thing on your mind was the comfort that was Mingi himself. How he had pulled you closer, and your hands landed on his broad chest. Hands snaking under the varsity jacket he put over a cotton tee, you felt your fingers warming up, the toned, sculpted beauty underneath turning into an alluring stability. There was nothing stopping you from closing the space, was there? Squinting, you took in his face, gasping as he turned away from you, revealing his side profile. Glasses, perfectly perched on the bridge of his nose, ever so slightly parted lips, a determined scrutiny of whatever it was that was in front of him. You could almost taste it. Apparently, it was easy to forget prior losses when the one you had been searching for in other bodies appeared before you.
Certainly, it had to have been him at the club however long ago. It had to have been, you were only looking for him and got lost, right? Fully convinced that you were right, despite Mingi being dressed more for a late night walk along a river bank rather than for a night of clubbing and hedonistic debauchery, you mumbled, cowering while he was trying to turn you and get you to take a seat:
“I missed you… Mingi.”
Eyes still half closed, you tilted your head to look in the approximate direction of your saviour, or companion… friend? It could not be. There ceased to be any lines that you could cross, and you were, for the first time in a long time, okay with it. You did not need nor want the barriers, not when his perfume was your salvation, not when his strong hands were rubbing your upper arms, not when you watched him take off his jacket and wrap it around you in slow motion. It was warm. He was warm. But he was not responding. The quiet was deafening as he nudged your legs, motioning for you to hop further into the vehicle - so you were in a car, huh? A couple of thuds somewhere below you, and a pair of heels manifested themselves on the floor of the salon. Obliging, you fell back inside and saw the light shutting itself away from you. A click, and you were alone. Trapped. There was no Mingi.
Wrapping your hands around the edges of the thick material, you pulled it tighter around you, emulating an embrace. Why were you left alone? Was this a prank? Was Mingi tricking you? Question after question, there were too many to answer in the midst of an oncoming headache, but you knew that you needed to leave this instant - Mingi was outside and he had to be waiting for you. After all, you needed to give him back his jacket. You were done running backwards. Just as you ran a hand over the door, looking for the right handle or button or whatever the car could possibly have, another door opened, revealing the same man, your same Mingi, still dressed in the same outfit as you had just seen, still in those glasses that suited him so well.
Through the gap between the headrest and the main seat, you gleamed at him, reassured that you were no longer abandoned in the metal box. The corner of Mingi’s mouth twitched upwards, though the majority of his response was evidently suppressed. He had to be hiding something. He must be mad at you. This was because you had been gone for too long, and then reappeared drunk out of your mind - he had said so himself. His voice boomed in your ears, blooming into a deafening echo that muted the car’s engine. Only once the car started did the realisation hit you - you had no idea that he even drove. The last night you had been together, you had taken a taxi, and he was sitting right next to you - you could recall every touch on your skin, over your dress, his ragged, shallow breaths. You needed to sleep, this was a dream… a dream… it had to be a nightmare… you were planning on talking to Mingi tomorrow… you would call him as soon as you woke up from this discord…
Crawling through the metropolis, the car stormed farther and farther from the district which you had decided to mark as your place of shipwreck. It was not the same location as before, he noted, now having more of an opportunity to piece together what had unfolded. If he was any more cynical and any less in love with you, he would have made it a case to point out that probably you intentionally had selected a spot that was a considerable distance away from your usuals because hell or heaven forbid your friends would stop you. Mingi had no clue as to what occurred in the time you were non-existent in his daily life, but evidently it had taken a considerably negative toll. Passed out on the back seats, you were exhausted by the world in which you lived, the world which was mercilessly testing you and draining you for all you were worth.
Stopped at a lonely red light, the hue crept through the windshield, settling over the salon and the two lost souls contained within. Quickly taking out his phone to check the time - no longer needing it for navigation after having the route imprint itself in his memory, he pinched the bridge of his nose, careful not to let the glasses slip. It was almost one in the morning - the commotion and additional steps because of your inebriated state had accumulated, long leaving the last day of the so-called work week behind. Happy weekend - with a bitter aftertaste, he uttered the words under his breath, shoving the phone back in the pocket of his jeans and shifting to turn around to take a quick look at you. You were peaceful, your features fully relaxed. Your purse had turned into something of a pillow, and while your legs could not exactly rest comfortably on the seats, you appeared to be blissful how you were, nuzzled into his jacket. Drifting in his musings, studying your every detail Mingi almost did not notice the lights change, relying solely on instinct to switch gears and move forward. With one last glance, he continued his journey, realising that he was not sure where your home was. Driving you to your closest friends was not an option either, considering that you did not mention nor call them - and if you did not want to see them, he should not be the one to orchestrate a falling out. There was always time for drama, but he did not want to extend it for himself.
Making one final, decisive turn that would take him to his neighbourhood, Mingi gripped the steering wheel to curb an accumulating nervousness. It was a sudden pang, a memory lifting itself up from the chaos he had brushed under the carpet after you had spontaneously left. He had not been fully asleep, simply spent and trustful, but everything stopped him from following you. As if a spear had mounted him to the bed - he was nothing more than a feeble bug on display, rotting. There was nothing he could have done, he was sure, except maybe not saying what he had said. In retrospect it was easy to see that those three words had been the final shot in the torn up heart. So, for the better, he was not going to say them, and pretend he never did, if that was what was going to let you sleep better and recover. That night was long in the past, and should be treated as a spectre. As weeks would go by perhaps you could look at him again, and be genuine in your feelings towards him. And he would not have to put himself up for sacrifice to gain your attention.
Soon enough, his apartment building was in sight, and the wheels rolled him closer and closer to his next dilemmas. Letting out a trembling breath, Mingi clicked a button on his keys once he approached the gates to the underground parking. You were as still as ever, consumed by your slumber. Coming to a halt at his designated spot, he killed the engine and fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. The noises that had crawled out from the club turned into wisps of risk and melancholia, clinging onto your otherwise gorgeous dress and filling the vehicle until that was all he could sense. Hands on the steering wheel, Mingi attempted to plan his next moves, thinking of the trip to the elevator, the ride up, and just how he could convince you to be lucid enough to help him in getting you cleaned up. Love and confusion aside, you were a person who needed help and support, and he was the one you had trusted in your last moments before losing sobriety.
It was a long trip. From you not quite being able to make it out of the car, to you nearly tumbling into the elevator and dragging Mingi down with you, the young man was sure that he had never had to be on such high alert ever in his life. Not even when he had to act in the role of a sleuth to figure out where your lectures had been back in university, and whether there was any way in which your paths could cross. It seemed that now he did not have to force fate’s hand quite as much. With one final stumble over the door frame that marked the entrance to his apartment, you were in, safe and secure from the outdoors, and Mingi could begin thinking more comfortably. Kicking off his own shoes, he ignored the feeling that arose when you intertwined your fingers with his as you waited. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, there was something endearing about you, pleasantly childish qualities protruding through the hardened exterior of an experienced seductress. Like there was still some vulnerability left, and Mingi was the only one to see it. Adjusting his glasses out of habit, or perhaps to mask his growing concern due to your spontaneously peppy disposition, he tugged on your arm, making you follow him past the living room and towards a breakfast bar that served as a divider to the kitchen. Stopping mid-stride, he turned and pointed for you to take a seat on the sofa.
You had vague recollections of the interior, but the lighting, which remained dim, prevented you from making out any details. After Mingi left your side, you curled your legs under your body and flopped onto the decorative pillows that occupied the right corner. Huddling as if it was your nest, you made yourself comfortable. Without him being right next to you, the sensation of being embraced remained. He was in every thread and every space; you could finally inhale and exhale tranquillity. Clinking of glasses and the sound of pouring piqued your inquisitiveness, albeit fuzzy in the half-consciousness, and you called out to Mingi’s approaching figure, a loopy grin plastered on your face.
“He-hey, let’s get the party started… is that champagne?”
“Oh, so that’s what’s got you… like this?” with the hand that was holding the full glass, Mingi gestured over your body.
“Like how? How am I now?”
“Like a bar after a football match.” he deadpanned, carefully taking a seat next to you and grabbing your hands. Upon ensuring the cup was secure in your grasp, he fell backwards to rest his head on the back of the couch, momentarily shutting his eyes. He was curious if you would be able to figure out that what you were about to drink was water.
“Huh? You’re mean…” mumbling to yourself, you lifted the beverage, taking a tentative sip. The cool liquid soothed you, eliminating the burning that occupied your mouth and throat for however long you had been in and out of the handmade turmoil. Greedily you took a gulp, another, until nearly all the water travelled to nourish your dehydrated, fatigued self. The cup, too, possessed a welcome coldness, refreshing, a change to the static that was rolling like thunder in your cranium. You could not resist the temptation to put the glass against your temple, sensing another wave of the dull ache returning to you.
“How much did you drink?”
“Interesting question. Just drank a whole glass,” you teased, aware that Mingi was likely after a different response, but you were all for omitting the truth as much as you could.
“I mean out there.”
“Where?”
“The club.”
“Oh… uh… a… a couple here and there.”
“Knowing you, that is like a whole bottle.”
“What can I say? I have a high tolerance.”
“If only you had a better tolerance for other shit,” his comment caught you off guard. Said to no one in particular, but staying suspended in the air, the phrase was less supportive than what you would have hoped for. He was definitely mad. The anxiety that had been resting on your shoulders like a foul beast stirred awake, digging its nails into your skin until the question you asked far too often slipped away from you, throwing you back into your antique patterns, ones you thought you had buried for good.
“Are you mad at me?” you sounded timid, and a hand instantly flew to your mouth, clumsily covering it. Mingi’s eyes shot open, him giving you a once over from his leaned back position. Sitting up, he raised an eyebrow.
“Say what now?”
“I… are you mad at me?”
“Wh-... why would I be?” he cleared his throat, curious as to what you had conjured and were proposing as an interpretation of his actions.
“I… well I… I am too much aren’t I… I am here, you are - wait what time is it? It should be so late, or early… ha, ha, I don’t even… wait so are you not mad at me? But I am just so all over the place and now I am… wait - what time? Is it? Are you supposed to be sleeping, oh my goodness yes you are I am intruding aren’t I, I should be home, wait how did you find me? Were you there with me? Was I doing anything weird oh why did I go tonight I was not supposed to go but no I had to go and forget you know I wanted to forget everything but you kept on coming back are you ma-”
“Y/N-”
You were speeding up, forgetting air, forgetting that you were safe. You imagined yourself to be in the middle of the ocean, clambering for anything to hold on to. But the more you struggled, the less you could see, and yet you could only continue speaking. Faster, faster, filling the emptiness with your every thought as if there was no space neither in your heart nor your mind to keep them close and safe. As if this was a bargaining token or a confession, and Mingi was the one to deliver a final judgement, or to pardon your every sin. You were afraid of what he could do, or maybe not do. The only thing that was vivid enough for you to grasp was the idea that you did not want him to go, and so you were desperately trying to catch every word you had uttered in your past that could possibly deter him. Oxygen was not an option when Mingi, your 'not quite a friend anymore', was on the line.
“Mad at me and I am not even sure why this is happening actually I know exactly why and I am sure this is a dream right now I mean you definitely hate me now maybe not before but surely now I did everything to make you hate me and I am just a mess I probably look the part I am sorry I am sorry I am so-”
“Y/N BREATHE.” with a raised voice, he cut you off. You had not noticed him lift himself off the sofa and move in front of you. He pushed the coffee table further back to give himself more space, and kneeled on one leg while prying the glass from your shaking hands. Though you had ceased to barrage him with sentences of raw dread, your breathing was still shallow, barely spaced out, lungs roaring for more, praying for relief.
Glass left on the table, Mingi’s hands clasped over yours, his gaze unwavering, searching. You could not read him. Everything you possibly wanted to say was bouncing around your skull in a painful flurry, inducing a lump that started to grow in your throat, accumulating mistakes and emotion. You did not deserve to face the man who was in front of you, but even when you tried to break away from his touch, he held on, shaking his head in disapproval.
“Breathe. Let’s count, shall we? Focus on my voice, okay?” Now, inhale, two, three, four-”
Switching approaches, Mingi distracted you. After a couple of rounds of counting, noting your darting glances he asked for you to point out three colours you could see. Three pieces of furniture. Slowing you down, gradually, grounding you until you were only the slightest bit unsteady.
“I am sorry.” you mumbled, doubling over, forehead against his hands. In shock, Mingi did not retract them, instead staring at how your hair cascaded over your shoulders and down, down like a waterfall, glimmering softly in the night lights that crawled into the room through every window.
“For what?” barely a whisper, only a hint of curiosity in anticipation of hearing something less than pleasant.
“For leaving,” he replayed the words in his head in utter disbelief. Never had he heard you apologise for disappearing, abandoning, making decisions that put you first. He had gotten used to it, considering it to be a trait that was normal to you, one that those close to you simply had to deal with. The two little words shed a new light, making him wonder just how you felt two weeks ago. You were not done, however, feeling the need to spill the secrets you had been holding, in the intimacy of night, of not having to look at him, “for going out and for thinking strangers could… could-”
“It’s okay… I-”
“How is it okay?” lifting your head, a portrait of misery was revealed. The makeup that had already travelled across to other parts of your face was now starting to etch streams down your cheeks, the tears being the only ones to confidently make their way. Mingi was at a loss, never having been able to predict that this night would end, or begin, like this.
“Well…”
“How? Please… I am… disgusting… Why do I always do this I-”
“Hey. Hey, listen to me,” hands on your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the rolling droplets, Mingi was reaching out for you, calling you back from the abyss into which you wished to fall, “first of all, no behaviour is quote unquote disgusting, you hear me?”
“Uh huh… but… but I hurt people- I… I hurt you…”
“Look, I know we have never had any deep one on ones before, but I know you are hurting. I think that answers quite a few things, doesn’t it?” trying his best to remain rational and calm, Mingi recalled phrases that he had been told many times, had said before, only now they held colossal meaning, weighed down by what had happened.
“But why are you…”
“What I do is my choice, just like what you do is yours, yeah?”
“But I choose badly… like today at the club I-... I-” you tripped over your words, the recollection forcing you to shudder. Sensing the buildup, Mingi diverted your attention by holding your hands once more.
“So how can you choose better? I mean, let’s think about tomorrow. What were you thinking of doing? Take me through the day. Say, you wake up, you…” he gestured for you to continue after him.
“I… brush my teeth, fix my hair and clothes… make breakfast… call you," you stopped, staring into his dark eyes, shining with bittersweet tenderness. For the first time, he wanted to believe that you indeed were drunk.
“Call me?”
“...I was planning to…”
“Even if you found someone?” The comment stung, but was not unfounded. Mingi knew you far too well for you to deny that you would at least attempt to fill the weekly void.
“I only kissed him… I promise…”
“I,” tightening his jaw repeatedly, Mingi resisted the urge to snap, or to make any accusations. It was obvious to any fool that you had lived through enough without him adding fuel to the hellish fire, “like I said, your choice.”
“I don’t want to make it anymore.”
“Then make another. And keep trying until you find the one that’s right for you.”
Dumbfounded, you could only look, and wonder if the man in front of you was real and was not figuring out ways to throw you out of his apartment. The idea could not be further from the truth. While he had to admit that the circumstances were not particularly romantic, nor was Mingi about to take every word and action as gospel, but this had to be the most candid he had ever seen you be, and the most open with him. Behind the gloss of a night fuelled by percentages, shots and bubbly, garnished with regretful actions and hopes for a restart, you were easy to read, your intentions and actions honest and benevolent.
“I was going to call you,” you reiterated with conviction.
“Tomorrow,” Mingi responded, switching his positioning to sit down on the floor, one hand still holding onto you while the other flew to find purchase on the carpet, offering balance. His thumb traced patterns on your skin absent-mindedly while he waited for you to continue.
“Yeah.”
“And what were you going to do?” there was no way to know whether the answer he would hear was one he wanted to, or was ready to hear. Of course, he liked to believe he was used to you, but not to your new feelings.
Had it hurt when he realised that he had been discarded, just like he had anticipated? Of course. Had his closest friend given him an earful after finding him wholly zoned out during their scheduled mid-week lunch? Definitely - the words still stung him. But was Mingi in any way angry with you? He could not be even if he tried. You had stayed true to yourself, and he should be happy that you did. And yet, the hope he had been living with remained persistent, and your present actions were not helping him in getting over it.
“Apologise…” you leaned closer to him, drowsy, freed from inhibition.
“And?” his voice dropped into a whisper as he could not bear to take his gaze off your and his hands.
The usual you, the alluring, domineering you who had one mission and one mission only on this night: to have a good time at any cost, was starting to resurface. You were grappling with your inner conscious, hoping to resurrect what you had previously labelled as confidence.
“Kiss you,” your act dropped quickly enough as you read the sadness in Mingi’s form, from the droop of the shoulders to the loosening of his hold on you, to the half-hearted joke that made you flush an embarrassing shade of pink. Awful, inducing the desire for the ground to disappear beneath you, but you could not stop.
“Through the phone?”
“No… on… like… a date?” shy, you proposed the idea to him.
“What’s with the questioning tone?” leaning back on both hands, Mingi regarded you. His black-rimmed glasses had slid down allowing him to look over the frame and into your soul, making you shiver. There was a seriousness in the gesture, a cold air of professionalism that you knew Mingi was capable of, but never experienced being directed at yourself.
“I don’t know… I haven’t dated in a while I guess…” finding interest in the hem of your dress, you fiddled with the thick fabric.
“What’s got you so into it now?”
“My choice,” you echoed his words, earning an amused smirk. After a meek pause, you pushed out the inquiry, barely audible, “Would you kiss me back?”
“Depends on what you’re feeling when you kiss me.”
“But you said you loved me, didn’t you? Mingi?” you straightened yourself up, feigning nonchalance, pretending to not be hurt by the passivity that rested on Mingi’s face as he studied you.
He wished he could make this easy and lead the conversation to a happy end, but that would only end in turmoil. Whatever you remembered, and whatever was so fresh in your mind could change in the blink of an eye, and later, in the morning, sober you could begin to despise yourself, and him in one go. The last thing he needed was for you to disappear from his life. So, it was better to restart. He bit his tongue for a couple of moments, swallowing every phrase that he had ceaselessly been repeating like mantras meant only for his walls to hear and hold no judgement towards, and selected denial, for your own benefit.
“...No such thing.”
“But I swear I-”
“I think it’s time to clean up and sleep, yeah?” he cut you off with searing neutrality. Rising from the floor, he flicked his hands for you to follow his actions. Though you had recovered enough to balance on your own, at least if you were to take everything slow, you were stuck in place, wanting to hear what you had been secretly longing for to spill from his lips.
“But, wait I-”
“Sleep time,” adamant to move past the painful hurdle, Mingi reiterated the implied command. Moving to grab your hand, he lifted you from the sofa, only to let go once you were on your feet. Taking the opportunity, you took small fistfuls of his t-shirt, pulling the stunning man towards you. If he could not speak the words, surely he would want to express them?
“Kiss me now?” The question sounded more like an offer. Like you were placing your attention for sale, thinking that this was enough to establish a connection.
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
Mingi wanted to collapse. Your eyes, the tremble in your voice, how you looked with his jacket still draped over your shoulders had him wrapped around your finger. He did want to kiss you, a little too much, if he were to be honest. And that was exactly why he backed away. If you had meant what you confessed, you would be able to say the same thing in the morning, and to his face. If you had been meaning to call him, you would be able to call out his name and be honest in wishing to see him, to be with him.
“I’ll kiss you when you’re fully sober, okay?” The negotiation seemed to work as you visibly relaxed and let him guide you to the bathroom, where he began to point out the makeup wipes, the towels, ignoring the fact that you had figured out the layout on your own some time ago and probably had some rough recollection.
“What a gentleman,” you uttered while roughly smudging your makeup with remover, not caring for the audience of one who was leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom, watching you to make sure that you did not hurt yourself nor ruin anything too badly.
“It’s the bare minimum.”
“I suppose… I… uh… shower? Yeah?”
“Oh yeah… wait I’ll bring you some clothes or something. Do you mind what?”
“Whatever you are okay with giving me, darling.”
Hissing to himself, Mingi adjusted his glasses and clutched the jacket you returned in his right hand. He ambled to his bedroom in search of something that would inevitably end up smelling like you and serve as another reminder of just how easily he could give himself up for this kind of closeness. If he were to let his eyelids fall like a protective blanket, he could pretend for a split second that this was how it had always been - domestic, sweet, uncomplicated. Head turned away, Mingi returned, only to see your clothes not so neatly strewn about on the heated tiles. His eyes moved on their own accord, to settle on your silhouette, moving slowly behind the shower curtain. Despising the fact that he knew your body and craved it like water or air, he left the t-shirt and sweatpants that he had picked out lying in a folded pile by the sink.
Mingi was restless, storming from bedroom to living room and back again, his instinctive decision-making finally catching up to him and crashing down on his consciousness with full force. He had acted rashly, listening only to his heart, and in every point along the turbulent path back home when he could have let go of what was inevitably going to be more pain for you and for him, he selfishly refused to. While moving a pillow and throw to the sofa, he was in awe of his own dedication, and how, for you, he could thoughtlessly abandon everything that his studies had attempted to instil in him over the years, from university to clinical practice.
With a tired hand he took off his glasses, giving the lenses a half-hearted wipe with the edge of his tee, more out of habit than out of need. According to the lazy clock on his wall, it was nearing two o’clock in the morning. He shuddered, and heat rushed to his face. What was he doing two weeks ago at this time? It was best to ignore that and start anew. You were just a friend who by some twist of fate he ended up getting to know a little too intimately. But if exes could become friends, surely you two could work out, even if in your drunk state you were exposing feelings that were potentially resonant with his - obviously far from platonic. Mingi shook his head, ultimately failing to banish his optimism. He needed coffee, anything to get his mind off things, maybe his work emails.
In the middle of his preparations, also known as remaining idle while the coffee machine worked its magic, you reappeared from the bathroom, freshened up, cheeks pink, and dressed in his clothes, which, he hated to say, looked too good on you. The t-shirt he had picked out, originally oversized even for him, perfectly draped over your curves; hinted at everything, revealed nothing. A couple of dark spots where water from your hair had dripped onto the soft cotton made the scene all the more homely, comfortable, and the only thing holding him back from sweeping you into an impossibly tight hug was the grey that befell your unlabelled relationship with him. Mingi was a man of logic, preferring to set things up onto metaphorical shelves, and in his work he was known to be a brilliant theorist, consulted on matters of analysis and diagnostics. The idea of a situationship, no strings attached and any other synonyms irked him, and the more he looked at you, and how you gazed at him so serenely, the more he wanted to put his foot down and ask you to decide. But if you had set your mind on tomorrow - or as the clocks were saying later today, he had to do what he did best - wait. It had been two weeks. What would a few more hours do except give you time to sober up and figure out what it was that you wanted from him and yourself?
“All better?” Who was he asking? Thankfully, you interpreted it as a question directed at you.
“Much better… sorry I am so out of it. Probably saying shit.”
“Don’t worry. I am just glad you are safe.”
“Mingi,” his name on your lips, the sweetest poison for his heart, “...thank you darling, really. I… hm, just thinking about what could have happened…”
“No need to think. About that, I mean.”
“And what should I think about?” raising an eyebrow, you captured the accidental slip of his musings in your delicate hands, subjecting it to scrutiny.
“Sleep.”
“You said that before. Besides, coffee? Really?”
“For me. I sleep better with coffee.”
Sure.”
“You can uh… I moved my stuff so you can sleep in the bedroom.”
“What about-”
“I’ll be right here.”
“I mean… we… didn’t we…” you wanted to allude to the bed having been shared before.
“I am here. You are there. Cool?” With the last of the americano having dripped into his cup, Mingi raised the hot beverage to take a careful sip, wincing as the liquid nearly burned his mouth. At least it served as a good distraction, just as he wanted.
“Mm… sorry. ‘Night.”
Spinning on your heels, you made a beeline for the bedroom, not waiting for Mingi’s response. Rejection after rejection; you smiled to yourself as you regarded the white sheets, decorated with a silvery sheen from the lights outside, washed over by a warm glow of the reading lamp positioned on the bedside table farthest from you. Welcoming, kind. Like the man who was now drinking coffee at hell o’clock in the morning, all because of you. The man who gave you his own clothes without a second thought. The man who kept on giving to a person who kept on taking. As you collapsed onto the sheets, crawling underneath the covers with an unprecedented exhaustion, you fell into a dreamless slumber with the thoughts of yourself being like a certain character from a famous animated film that you had watched with your friends, only to rewatch it on your own that same night once you got home. A spirit with no face, only an insatiable appetite, a rage that could not be extinguished - always more, taking from everyone, taking everything. Cloaked in black, a creature of darkness, without a place in society and meant sink into its own misery. You were alone in this world, wishing for the skies to clear, praying you would find the strength to fight for it.
He could not sleep. With the coffee finished but not the slightest hint of drowsiness approaching, Mingi stretched to grab the laptop that had been lying on the coffee table, choosing to go over his work emails that had accumulated from the time he had logged off just a night ago. Chain mail, Friday newsletters, reminders, rescheduling, appointment bookings, cancellations, conferences, journal updates, editor reviews… so much noise that settled like ash on his eyes, amounting to what appeared to be nothing. Segments of an imaginary success that drained him of any desire to show up on Monday. After answering what he could, Mingi pinched the bridge of his nose, and lied down on the couch, balancing the laptop on his stomach. He had foregone the throw, finding it to be more of a hindrance to his constant movement. What was it that he had told quite a few of his patients? Sleep was essential for a sound mind? Comical. Perhaps it was time to consult someone for his own troubles. He was good enough at solving things for others, but unfortunately that did not seem to apply when the ‘others’ was himself. If only he could stop concentrating on your presence in the room right next to him, on whether you were sleeping soundly and if you needed anything.
It was a quiet rustling that had woken Mingi up from a quick nap that he had fallen into. After a moment of disorientation, he registered the sound as being your footsteps, inching around the sofa in the approximate direction of the kitchen.
“Escaping?” recoiling as though you had been struck, you halted. After having been buried under a cosy duvet, the apartment felt cold, and you could barely hold back the shiver that was threatening to run over you.
“Water… sorry did I wake you up?”
“Nah, wasn’t sleeping anyways. Here let me get it for you.”
Without another word uttered, nor any glances which could plant seeds of doubt in your head about his intentions, Mingi was right there with you, leading you to your target and pouring a glass. You did not mind how he watched you handle the item, nor how he took it out of your grasp as soon as you were done. He was gentle, even though each move did appear to be pre-calculated and strictly bound by a larger, all-encompassing decision. You tried to reach out for him, and when he stepped away after noticing you in the peripherals, the point was proven. Mingi was seeking distance. Biting your lower lip, the echoes of an earlier anxiety bubbled, manifesting itself in your classic black and white thinking.
“I am a mess,” like a coin dropped in a well, the phrase bounced from every wall, right back to you.
“Break that down for me,” crossing his arms, Mingi turned around and leaned against the counter.
“Are you going therapy mode on me?” you tried to joke, but the words came across more as an accusation. You felt weak, exposed. The shiver escaped, goosebumps now decorating your flesh, causing what you interpreted as pity to flash in Mingi’s eyes.
“I’m assuming that is what you’re seeking now, no?”
“...no.”
“Okay.”
As if the conversation had never begun, Mingi returned to drying his hands, leaving you alone with an unpleasant sobriety. With the early morning returned fragments of memories - a highlight reel of things you probably should not have said, but now that you had to own up to and either confirm or keep running away from. Inhale, exhale, and the words poured by themselves.
“Can we… talk about something?”
“Something?”
“I think… I… you know how I… wait I did say I was planning to call you right?”
“Mhm,” Mingi turned back, regarding you with an unreadable expression.
“So I have said a lot of things,”
“Yeah, and, what do you want to say to me?”
“I’m… sorry.”
“You already said it.”
“I mean it.”
“I know. What else?”
“Help me.”
“With… what?”
“I am afraid.”
“Of?”
“How I feel.”
“And how is that?”
“Well…”
You paused, throat drying. Your body recoiled from what you had settled on admitting. But it had to happen, even if the result would be you never seeing Mingi again, because at least you would have done something to try and defeat yourself. After hearing the three little words, and having them repeat over and over again, the light in which you saw your own life and saw Mingi had shifted. He could not be that same happy, naive, angel-like friend from university who had somehow ended up in your company of misfits and comrades in melancholy to you anymore. For the first time, you wanted to place a significance on a relationship that was beyond one night in a stranger’s bed.
“I am afraid… that I- I-”
“What you are about to say, did you weigh it up? Did you consider it? Evaluate it? Are you sure that what you are about to share, and will be unable to reverse, is done with a clear mind?”
“Yes.”
“And you want to say it to me.”
“Yes, Mingi.”
You reached for his hands, worry making you play with his slightly cold fingertips. Intertwined, swinging side to side the tiniest bit, like a swaying of a sleepy willow; either the beginning, or the end. Mingi took a deep breath, as though preparing himself to be brutally smited.
“Then, um, as you were saying?”
“I want to fall in love with you.”
A laugh involuntarily flew from his chest, like a slap across your face. When you tried to slide past him, however, his arm wrapped around your upper body, pulling you close.
“Want to? What does that mean?” With prior seriousness being replaced by a more playful tone, the calm evaded you, “hey, take your time, it’s fine. You are already doing really, really well.”
“May I hug you?”
“Sure, c’mere,” he was the sun in late summer, the rays lulling, soothing. A glistening gold palette illuminated by a well-paired cologne that you were already wearing after resting in his bed, a masterpiece that you wanted to sink into and never escape. The horrors of the night that never stopped repeating were crawling away into their putrid caverns, providing at least a temporary relief and returning you to the waking, beautiful world. Mingi was comfortable in the best sense of the description, a stability that you had never dared to dream of. You pressed your head against him, shutting yourself away from cacophonous intrusions that had been leading you every Friday.
“You said you loved me.”
“Don’t remember,” the vibrations across his torso as he spoke soothed some of the pain inflicted by his answer. You could not blame him. Perhaps you two were much more similar than you had initially thought.
“I like you.”
“I like you too.”
“A lot.”
“A lot.”
“Can you help me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Some things you should face yourself, I can only point you in the right direction. I can see that this goes beyond anything that either of us could mention or explore right now, and I hate to say it but there is no magic cure or something. It takes time and effort,” Mingi wrapped his arms tighter, one hand starting to pat the back of your head absent-mindedly, focusing on the sensation of each strand against his palm, “but what I can do is be here. For you. And if you want to, for us. How does that sound?”
“Like it’s too good to be true. I don’t deserve you.”
“No one deserves anyone. We just fit together, and we will make things work. Step by step,” Mingi made it sound easy. You wanted to believe him.
“We?”
“You just said you want to fall in love with me, Y/N. We kind of… need to be together for that to happen, methinks.”
“Good point.” you mumbled, snuggling closer, hiding your face.
“May I be honest for a second?”
“Mhm.”
“I am not saying it so that we say it together when you’re ready, cool?”
“Say what?”
“You know, the L word,” you looked up to see him wiggling his eyebrows dramatically, making you chuckle.
“Oh… thank you, Mingi. I appreciate it. Yeah. Makes sense.”
In the tranquillity of the early dawn, you were not alone. Not curled up on the floor, a stranger to yourself, but in the arms of someone who cared and his feelings remained unchanged through times you thought anyone could, and would abandon you. You could finally hear your own thoughts becoming clear and level. Nothing could be better than the hope for such a bright tomorrow.
“Hmm… I think I liked when you were calling me darling in every sentence,” with a flick of your wrist you lightly hit Mingi’s broad chest, without pulling away.
“I did not-”
“Are you not sober, darling?” he made you pause your denials, a sunny smile on his face.
“Okay fine yes I did…”
“Care to say it again?” taken by surprise by the request, you were left open-mouthed, with a raised brow.
“Darling?”
“Music to my ears,” he answered while barely being able to stifle a yawn.
This was the closest Mingi could get to a fairy tale moment with you, and he could not be happier. A grin fought its way to the surface, until it practically hurt his cheeks, and he pressed you to his chest, just so that you would not see it. But it did not take someone to be especially hyper-observant to sense his glee, capable of melting the snow in the harshest winter. Perhaps it was foolish of him to admit this, but nothing felt more right. How your body melded into his, perfectly unified. How your heart beat at a gentle pace, in time with his, and how your steady breathing tickled his skin - a constant reminder of your electrifying proximity.
“Sleepy?”
“Mmm… a bit.”
“Maybe a change of…” you glanced at the couch, “location would do you some good?” detangling yourself, the suggestion was made with a simple turn of the head, which Mingi agreed to with a curt nod, and a removal of his glasses.
Though it was his apartment and technically you were the guest, he was the one following you, like always. Shying away from your gaze as he rapidly changed into sweatpants and a tee that were other than those he had worn during his midnight expedition to retrieve you from the club, making you giggle and cover your eyes with a dramatic swoop of the hand, he was back at your mercy in these four walls. Playing with fire, he lied down on the bed next to you, counting to steady himself. Glasses left on the bedside table, he stared at the soft blur of the ceiling, admiring how soft the light of the earliest dawn looked without the myriad of details that otherwise occupied the material it fell upon. Mingi debated with himself whether what he was allowing was appropriate, and whether it would inevitably lead to what he had been secretly hoping for. He could not lie, not to himself at least - he still wanted you, and now, with the avenue towards the prospects of a relationship having been opened, the wishes were becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore. Not when you were right there beside him, obviously studying the contours of his face, tracing the gorgeous lines that its silhouette formed and thanking the heavens for having the ability to take in and memorise Mingi.
Oddly enough, in the semi-darkness of the bedroom - a place that was supposed to be the most intimate and exposing, you felt confidence return to you like the gust of a reviving spring wind. With every inhale and exhale, the familiar strength regained its capability, and led you to place a hand on Mingi’s chest, and while still keeping up a coy act, to run a lone finger down its middle, stopping right at the abdomen. Muscles tensing under your touch, Mingi sighed. Clearly, sleeping was not on your agenda whether you wanted it or not. Your habits, perfected over years, were advising you to act, and do so now. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for him, he shared the same desire.
“What’s up?” he mumbled, head rolling to the side to find you already looking right at him.
“You’re far.”
“We are literally on the same bed.”
“No, but you are far. You get me?” a tentative leg over his, hooking around and serving as a lever to pull you closer to him. It was too natural, how Mingi’s arm stretched out and let you cuddle into him, acting as a pillow.
“I suppose. What do you want to do about it?”
“This,” tracing along his jawline, you prompted him to turn. You were close, way too close for him to not hold his breath as you came into focus - the one person he could always see, even when you were not physically with him.
Mingi resisted. As much as he was seeking the same contact, the tinge of regret for giving his heart up so easily was prominent, a scalding hot iron. It was too much - lying under the blanket of agitated stillness, pressure coiling at an astonishing speed as your eyes turned into the one universe he could care to exist in. Without realising it, he had turned towards you for a better angle, placing himself on your altar. Fingers ghosted over the sensitive skin under his ear, gently running through his blonde locks. Every brush of your hand against him was an unbearable fire, melting him into submission; nothing more than a servant in the sultry fog. It was impossible to answer how you were able to do this, and why Mingi was allowing you to, but just like everything else, it felt right, regardless of how dark the future could be. In what you had proclaimed to be a ‘mess’, he felt alive, human. For some, addiction was measured in degrees and in there being less and less memories as time went by - for him, it was in the syllables of your name, in the taste of your lips when he could not hold back any longer and closed the gap between you, sighing as the he could finally relive the sensation that had been haunting him every minute, be he asleep or awake.
The kiss was slow, deliberate, a bouquet of recollection and reminiscence as if you had been two souls torn apart for centuries. Mingi’s nose lightly brushed against your skin as he tilted his head to deepen the intimacy, his hands moving to hold you closer. The last time, each sense was charged with an undercurrent of carnal desire, and lust had revealed a palette of dark hues, while now, even with the rising intensity and Mingi’s hold drifting to find purchase on your hips, the scene was light. Instead of sacrificing yourselves to the night, you were defeating it, greeting your own dawn. It was an awe-inspiring hallucination, leaving you dazed and desiring more. Hooking your leg more tightly over Mingi’s thigh, you shuddered, the breathiest moan escaping you as an unexpected friction revealed your unwinding state, consumed by the man from whom you were done running. Breaking away to press your forehead against his and indulge in the shared oxygen, a hint of dizziness made you chuckle. Peppering a couple of kisses on his cheek, only to return to the same position, eyelashes almost touching, the lack of space proving to be the ultimate comfort, you whispered:
“I want this forever,” meaning every word, at least when ‘forever’ meant ‘for now’. You did not know yourself, or the new self you wanted to craft, so you could not make any promises just yet. But this was good enough. It was honest and raw.
“Take me on a date first,” Mingi teased with a wink. Caressing his cheek, you kissed the tip of his nose, making him scrunch it.
“What a precious princess,” you chuckled, leaning over to close the space once again, ignited by the beautiful sounds that were muted by you, a most delectable fruit.
Desire on the tongue, truth on the teeth, love staining the lips a deeper pink as you fell into Mingi, giving into his tug at your waist to hover above him. This, however, did not last long as he grew more impatient, pressing you against his body, wriggling upwards until he was half-seated on the bed, and you, on his thigh. Your initial instincts were telling you to move, but as he adjusted his seating once more, muscle brushing against your growing excitement, you quickly decided against it, instead settling on his leg, grinding into it to check for Mingi’s reaction. Judging by the way his hand snaked to the nape of your neck, fingers lost in your tresses as he could not get enough of you, this was a welcome change. He was responsive, in tune with you, allowing you to take the lead. Momentarily standing up on your knees, you backed up to take off the sweatpants you had been wearing, feeling the heat in your core rising to embrace you in a seductive haze.
With glazed over, darkened orbs Mingi watched you, each breath an adrenaline-filled shudder. Freed from the cotton confines, with only the fine material of your panties left to contain the building arousal, you cupped Mingi’s face to give him a deep kiss until you lost all air, whispering instructions only once you had your fill. Promptly, he was in the same state of undress, more so when you cautiously hooked the base of his t-shirt, longing to see the body that was so perfect with yours. When you wanted to mirror the action, his expression changed to that of a miniscule panic, almost instantly replaced by an endearing shyness and a bitten lower lip.
“Can you… keep the shirt on?”
“You like to see me in your clothes, Mingi?” You were comfortable saying his name in other settings, sure, but in the semi-darkness of his bedroom, it occurred to you just how vulnerable the act was, capturing another’s attention with the simple collection of characters, echoing from wall to wall and resonating in the listener’s ears. But if you were to be an improved version of yourself, someone who had real control as opposed to the farce you had been parading around with, you needed to at least make a little bit of an effort to be aware of Mingi, find him in your pleasure and make him your focus. You were too used to taking centre stage and pushing others away for it.
“More than I’d like to admit,” voice husky, he groaned as your lips found his neck, retracing, not needing pointers to find the places that drove your newly established lover wild, “Ah… if you are o-okay with it-”
His hands, now back on your hips, gave you a timid squeeze, reaffirming the rapture which your present outfit threw him into. Mingi had assumed that you were at your most beautiful when those dresses designed to seduce adorned your curves, highlighting and accentuating what he swore was divinity, but nothing could have prepared him for this sight, and the effect that it had on him. Whether it was on purpose or not, but his name being uttered so teasingly as you seeked an outlet for your sensual frustration, while you were in his shirt, in his room, having slept in his bed, it all sent him into a frenzy. He wanted to mark you, make you his, hear you say everything you never could to him while he would bring you heaven and make you see stars.
“More than okay, darling, I love it,” nibbling at the soft skin, you smirked as Mingi emitted a groan, hands squeezing your ass. This prompted you to continue, and you sat back down, desperate for stimulation that your covered clit against his thigh could offer.
“Is this how you want me, doll?” the pet name sent a jolt through you and you let out a shaky breath, leaving yourself to be supported by an equally taken Mingi, whose growing bulge was now poking against your knee.
“Doll?”
“Only fair I call you something pretty, hm? Unless you want to…” he trailed off, recalling the roles that you had taken previously.
“I want to take it slow with you right now,” you kissed him, lazily moving your hips, the material getting more soaked with each glide, “will you let me?” when he did not immediately give an answer, you palmed at the prominent hardness, asking again just as Mingi let out an airy moan, chasing the contact, “will you let me take care of you?”
“Fu-ck, yes…”
“So good for me- ah!” with a yelp, you shuddered when Mingi’s hand dragged your panties to the side to get a better view of the slick, not caring for the glistening fluid staining his leg. With a few tentative rolls of his thumb over your clit, he decided that he should help you reach your high first, attracted to how you lost yourself in his touch.
“Want to use my thigh to get yourself off that badly?”
“N-no I am going to take c- fuck,” head lolling back, you could only focus on the accelerating fingers over your sensitive nub, teasing its very tip and coated in your precum, stopping spontaneously. You whined, earning yourself a furrowing of the brows and a glint of surprise in Mingi’s gaze.
“Thought you said no?”
It clicked in your head, and the tinge of anger rapidly dispelled, instead being replaced by a warm endearment. You ran a hand through his beautiful hair, planting a kiss on his cheek before answering:
“I don’t want to make you work too hard today.”
“I like to see you like this though…” he mumbled, chasing after another taste of your plush lips.
“How? Unwinding because of your hand? Your thigh? Do you like to make me feel good?” with a few nods, you let him continue by tapping his upper arm. As soon as he resumed the action, in time with your rocking, you let yourself go fully, thinking only of the man who was below you. Nothing, nor anyone else came to mind.
Mingi was observing you carefully, your moans turning to sweet music, "Yes, Mingi, just like that-"
"You look so beautiful, doll, fucking yourself on me. Could you be," he paused his ministrations - a light tremble of muscle a telltale sign of your approaching climax, "...any more perfect?"
Praise shot into your heart and your core, an overwhelming electric shock. You perceived yourself guilty and undeserving of this worship, and yet could not bear to hear anything else from Mingi's lips - you were sure that it would be your demise. Arms thrown over his shoulders, you attempted to speed up your movements, the action proving a challenge due to the accumulating tension. Your head fell forwards, forehead against Mingi’s collarbone as he took to guiding you, hand carefully positioned on the small of your back while the other rolled up and down your aching clit, each touch closer and closer to sending you over the edge.
“Dar-ling I-”
“Are you close, Y/N?” Why did your name have to sound so sweet when he said it?
“Ah- y-yeah…” Mingi was craving for relief to the point of dizziness, grasping at you for the most minimal support. Precum coated the inner side of his underwear, member at full mast as he toyed with your sopping pussy.
“Come over me, doll, please, beautiful, show me what I can do to you,” the request was a fire, deliciously weak and exposing. You looked up at Mingi, disarmed by the kindness of his expression, and peppered a couple of kisses around his lips, too disoriented to find the original target.
With one final rock of the hips, and Mingi’s fingers curling into you and gliding between your folds, you collapsed into unfathomable bliss, a lewd moan resonating from you while the orgasm left you shaking in Mingi’s strong arms. He let you ride out your high by keeping your hips from fully bucking, instead setting a steadily decreasing pace and soothing you through the overstimulation from your continued contact with his leg. He nuzzled against your cheek, following the action with a reassuring:
“I got you,” pulled you into embracing the angel of your life.
The hints of a rising sun began to trickle into the room, just barely leaving a pattern on the carpet and transforming the light in the room into a pale lavender and pink. This was the earliest, and the latest, that you had ever been with anyone after your ritualistic ‘night out’, and courteously reminded you of the occurrences that brought you back to Mingi. Upon your descent from the decadent oblivion, embarrassment struck and you pressed yourself against his body, sighing in relief when he hugged you tight. His hardness was impossible to ignore, and a part of you felt terrible for not repaying the pleasure he had given you just yet, but judging by the way in which you could feel his fingers trace abstract shapes on your back, and after one glance to one side, and then to the other, how he kept himself immersed in his senses, concentrating on you, he could hold out for a little longer.
“Mingi?”
“Mm?”
“You did make me feel good. Really, really good,” uncharacteristically meek, the sentence sounded almost like an announcement, making him chuckle, but the smile that melted across his features was genuine and pure. Loving.
“Happy to hear it. And I am happy that you are feeling like this, Y/N.”
“May I…?” a ghostly caress of his erection, a shaky breath, a playful, lop-sided grin with glossed over eyes.
“And here I was thinking that you like bossing people around, hm?”
“Would you rather I did?” touch turned grasp, a finger playing with the waistband of his boxers while your voice dropped into a dangerous tone, serpent-like, sultry.
“I like new things, I want to get to know you better, gorgeous.”
“Let’s do just that then, though… I’ll need a little,” having regained full function of your legs, you slipped from the position over his thigh to be on your knees between his legs, centred, “assistance. Talk to me, darling, what do you like?”
“I-” with a swift motion, you snaked your hand into his boxers, taking out his erect member and giving it a tentative stroke.
There were no thoughts which he could vocalise aside from hoping that you would never stop. Your thumb circled over his reddened tip, coating itself in the fluid. You barely moved your hand, continuing to give special attention only to the head of his stiffened cock, making Mingi try to wriggle to get more friction. With a push on his pubic bone, you freeze him.
“Now, don’t get too impatient, first I need these boxers off, okay? I’ll help,” you let go of his member, tugging at the material and following Mingi’s quick lift of his lower half, pulled them down and off, leaving the stunning man bare and ready to respond to your every move and command.
You truly wanted to fall in love with him. Those glistening eyes that rolled back slightly just before he closed them, unfathomable bliss revealed only to you, were a paradise that you would not mind floating in forever. He had full trust in you, breathy moans freely falling from his lips as you started to stroke his cock, having added some of your own spit to his pre-cum for lubrication. His every detail was a heavenly design that you could not believe nature had crafted, from body to mind, and here he was, giving it up to you. You regarded the telltale sheen of sweat that began to form on his smooth skin, giving him an angelic appearance in the haze of the early morning. His hands were gripping the bed sheets, knuckles gradually turning paler as you sped up with each pump of his leaking cock. In a moment where you noticed him looking upwards at the ceiling, not registering you, you stopped to give the base a soft squeeze, having an even better idea in mind.
“Mingi?” The call instantly made him dart back to you unfocused but endearingly determined.
“How would you feel about me sucking your dick, hm?”
“H-huh?”
“Only if you want to, darling,” resuming the strokes, albeit at a lazier, dangerously slow speed and making sure to give attention to every vein, you had to practically had to hold yourself back from grinning due to the perplexion decorating Mingi’s face, blended seamlessly with a blazing lust.
“Are you sure?”
“I can show you, and you decide, deal?”
“Fu-uck yes, deal ye-” answer forgotten in the garbled, divine mess of carnal satisfaction, Mingi watched as you lowered yourself to hover above his member, and gave it a few kitten licks before taking in his tip.
You rolled your tongue over the heat, relishing in Mingi’s taste, and pushed down further until you were midway, and hollowed out your cheeks in time to sense how he twitched at the dizzying warmth. While you were more familiar with a dominant role, particularly one where you prioritised your own pleasure and used others as a form of self-relief - not exactly the most responsible approach but no one had complained yet, but even then you were no stranger to this sensual act. You dragged your tongue against his large erection, spurred on by his groan when you bobbed your head a couple of times before slipping off to give Mingi an inquisitive glance.
“So, what do you say?”
“You are… amazing,”
“I take that as a, ‘yes please, Y/N, continue’?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then say it, darling, so I know,” you grazed a lone finger up his length, admiring just how sensitive it was, “and you can touch me, by the way, you were doing so well before what’s got you so shy now?” you chuckled when a hand that had previously been hovering in your vicinity finally found its place on the side of your face, timidly moving a few strands of hair that you had not noticed threatening to cover your vision.
“Yes… please, Y/N, continue.”
“So precious.”
It did not take long for you to build him back up and higher again. You were addicted to how he writhed under you but was still careful to not grab onto your locks, instead choosing to repeatedly run his digits through and rest them while you masterfully took him in your mouth. A wanton symphony filled the room, blending every sigh and the sloppy collision of his tip against the back of your throat into a direct stimulation. Your core was growing needy, so much so that with one finger you began to roll over your sensitive clit, echoes of the explosive orgasm still shooting through your nerves but not nearly enough to satiate your evolved hunger.
“I’m going to-”
He pawed at you, while an oncoming wave was about to capture him whole. Mingi’s breathing was ragged and irregular and his head fell back while he struggled to distinguish reality from dreaming in the wake of his crumbling state. Just like he had done in your last encounter, the second before he came stirred in him a final aggression, a desire to prove to himself that he retained some form of power, even though all the signs pointed to the opposite. At least now, you were fully prepared. Throat relaxed and eyes fluttering shut, you let yourself be pushed down onto the throbbing cock with a rough hand, and welcomed the ropes of hot, white cum when they spurted out to coat your mouth, rivulets dripping down your throat and prompting you to swallow. The light tang was suddenly your favourite flavour, and you resumed your pumping, milking Mingi of all his nectar with a greedy forcefulness. He tasted like he was completely yours.
He hit the headboard as he collapsed from the exertion, astonished at how you licked your lips, showing off the emptiness of your mouth as you had swallowed his load. Your cunt ached for more, and you drifted towards Mingi until your chest was pressed against his, ensuring he recalled the fact that you were still wearing his shirt. Not caring for the remnants of his cum on the corners of your mouth, he searched for your lips, sealing them with a long kiss. You used this as an opportunity to lower yourself just enough to have your folds glide over his only just softening member, and deepened the kiss to drown out his gasp. You needed him, and needed him now. Not caring for recovery times, you began to fist his dick roughly, making him tremble underneath you and bite down on his lip.
“Come on, precious, won’t you give me another?”
“A-ah I- please I-”
“What was that?” you separated yourself from him, a smirk dancing on your lips when you sensed a familiar rush racing under skin from the stimulation, and leaned to the side to open the bedside drawer, successfully fishing out a condom.
“I-”
“Speak up, sweetheart, I am not sure what you’re saying,” it was so easy to tease him, play with his mind, and you liked it too much. Reduced to babble, he shut himself off from further attempts to communicate, submitting to your determination to work him until he was hard again.
When you ceased to pump him and let go, his cock slapped against his skin, leaving behind traces of prior climax and clear promise of another. You removed the condom from the packaging and carefully unrolled it, suddenly struck by how practised this felt with Mingi, as if you knew each other’s bodies better than your own. You would be lying if you were to say you did not have him memorised.
Positioning his tip at your entrance, you sighed and slid him between your folds. One rock of the hips, another, and the condom was coated in your slick, and you began to take the member in, inch by inch into your fluttering heat, mouth ajar as you felt him grazing against your begging walls, the ribbed detail of the protection only adding to the sensation. Soon enough, he was fully sheathed inside your fluttering hole, and was struggling to hold himself back from bucking his hips upwards. One leg on either side of him, you were straddling his lap, the position reminiscent of a longing embrace, intimate, personal. The centre of your attention were the contortions of his face and the arms that loosely wrapped around your torso.
If it was possible to be any closer, then most certainly Mingi achieved it when he pulled you into him, holding you tight. The movement dragged your pussy over his cock, almost making it slip out until he settled you back down again, hissing when skin slapped against skin. Not surprised by, but still not expecting the enticing demonstration of strength, you nudged Mingi’s cheek with your own, whispering words of praise in his ear:
“Do you want to guide me?”
“Sorry Y/N, I couldn’t help it… your pussy feels so good…”
“I said I want to take care of you, Mingi, tell me what you want.”
“I… I do want to guide you, if you let me.”
“Show me what you can do, darling.”
You did not need to say it twice as he grabbed your hips to adjust your seating, and took to finding a steady and breath-taking rhythm, with the two of you moving as one. Mingi left one peck, another on your shoulder when you yelped from a particularly deep pound of his cock into you, grazing your g-spot and knocking you off kilter.
“Yes, yes, Mingi-”
“So pretty, for me?” he cut you off while he quickened his pace, starting to move up with more vigour when you found balance by gripping onto the headboard.
“For-” you stopped, reassessing the sentence. Even in the comfort of his show of power, you were hesitant to give up. Nothing forced you to continue however, as Mingi angled his thrusts to hit your sweet spot repeatedly, making your legs tremble and pussy clench around him. The heat was becoming unbearable, and the knot in your stomach was driving you mad, “Fuck, Mingi, faster!”
Your words were followed by a few violent thrusts, before Mingi tapped your thigh and growled for you to shift your leg so that you could turn and lie down on your side. You read his wishes, cautiously shifting until your back was flush against his chest. Remaining close so that his length remained in your sopping cunt, you shifted to sink into the crumpled sheets, fixated on Mingi, who was entirely in his own world, concentrated on performance and pleasure. He lifted your other leg by hooking it with his arm and, once settled, began to thrust with a totally new vigour.
His grunts mixed with your high-pitched whines, and his pistoning caused your fluids to spill relentlessly around his cock, soaking the sheets. Mingi was in overdrive; he wanted more, needed more and despite already having already come one for you, he was ready to do it again. The pain of having his cock abused and overstimulated had subsided, instead transforming into a delightful sensitivity to the warmth of your walls, and how they started to pulsate. You unleashed a broken moan as your high accumulated and destroyed you, giving you up to Mingi entirely. Sensing the shift, he persisted, letting out his own guttural groan when the pounding into your hole had turned into pure ecstasy and brought him to his own orgasm. Cock twitching as it spilled out more of his release into the condom, the heat leaving you dizzy, you followed his change of position back into sitting, jaw slackened, vision unfocused.
Mingi kept you against him, encouraged you to say his name again while you warmed him, to which you instantly obliged - it felt too natural, meant to be. He scissored your folds with his fingers, after which he moved up to tease your pulsing and erect clit, middle finger moving over it at an astonishingly fast pace. You practically clawed at Mingi, sure that you were about to break, gasps stuck in your throat but he would not budge, holding you down until a tidal wave crashed into you, and you mewled through another climax, this time a clear liquid spilling from you and further ruining the cotton below. A wreck, you leaned back on him, unable to keep yourself up any longer from the shaking of your legs to the blankness of your mind.
He kissed you back to full consciousness, having tilted your head so he could capture your lips again and again, each contact more gentle than the one prior. After pulling out his cock and discarding the condom, his full attention was on you. Mingi caressed your face, snaked his hands under the t-shirt to feel your skin, lowered you onto the bed and slid another pillow so that you remained in a more or less upright position.
“You okay?” he tried, worry showing itself on his features when you did not respond instantly.
“I love,” he stilled, eyes widening, “...this. I love this, Mingi,” nevertheless, he beamed, lips interlocking for what had to be the thousandth time. Not sure how to respond, he simply lied down next to you, watching as your inhales and exhales grew more level, deeper, and awareness of surroundings returned.
“We… we really should clean up, yeah?”
“Definitely changing the bedsheets later,” Mingi pointed at what was running the risk of being a stain of your release. Blush rose on your cheeks as you turned away, mumbling:
“Good point.”
“Hey, hey, it was worth it. You looked beautiful,” he tried to move you back, but you only crossed your arms, joking.
“You were literally behind me, Mingi.”
“Beautiful from all angles, doll,” you sharply turned, giving him a glare before suppressing the widest grin.
“So cheesy,”
“Do you like it?”
“Unfortunately, a little too much.” you flicked his nose with your own, the safety and adoration oozing from Mingi lulling you. The room glowed a stunning shade of pink, with hints of orange as you swam in his stunning dark irises.
“Well I have a lot more where that came from.”
“Can’t wait to hear it. Now, uh… shower?”
It was Saturday. And most definitely, it was not the dead of night. Late morning light washed over your skin as you sat upright on Mingi’s bed, the same one you had run from not too long ago. Only this time, the arm lazily thrown over your stomach was impossible to move, and the gaze of the man with his head perched on his other hand was impossible to ignore. It was evident that he was waiting for your next move, purposefully silent. Aware. Even though you had made your own version of a confession, you knew that you had a long way to go if you wanted Mingi to wholeheartedly trust you, and thus you would be able to hold and protect his love in your own slowly healing heart.
For the first time, you were looking beyond the character you had created for yourself, feeling for the essence of who you had once been far too long ago, thawing the self-protective frost you had accumulated as your last resort. Attempting to stay still, you focused on how your breathing repeatedly lifted and lowered his arm that was still on your body. Too heavy, too intimate, too real for you to handle. According to the logic that you were trying to shed for a full reawakening, you had gotten what you wanted, right? Then why was it that you could not stand up and leave, having used him again, mercilessly and coldly? Why were you stuck? Resistance was futile. Questions turning into a barrage of artillery against your clouded mind were agonising, and amidst the colossal pause a shudder passed over your body. Mingi’s t-shirt that he had let you borrow, hanging loosely over you was suddenly not enough. Feeling bare, you grasped at the bedsheets, anything, the cold settling on your skin like fresh snow, coating you and leaving you gasping. A trembling of the lips, a breath suspended in the lungs, blooming into an ache until tears welled up in your eyes, glistening raindrops. Patterns felt like strangers as you thought of the many days that you had tried to not live through, instead succumbing to impulse and carnality, and the foreign bliss of being in the now was so acute it sent shocks through your system. A white light, a white lily, a white dove cradled in your hands. You felt Mingi’s hand pressing into your side as he moved a little closer. You could hear him, his breath, his heartbeat, feel the heat emanating from his body, and every touch imprinted on your skin once again. Celestial blessings that soothed you like no one ever could. Biting on your lower lip, you lowered your head to fight the last of yourself. Shedding your beliefs and desires, you were left bare, and you were terrified. A white chasm into which you kept on falling, and the only thing you could hear was Mingi’s voice as he sat up to pull you into an embrace, his strong arms lifting you from your position and into his lap. Heart to heart, you melted into the feeling, inhaling him, his affection that was seeking you out in the panic. A hand lulling you, slowly patting your back as your body shook with every suppressed sob. As he mumbled your name against your ear, calling out for you, the previously contained tears sprung out, travelling down your cheeks, but Mingi could not care less, only hugging you tighter until even in your loss, you could feel that he was there, and he was not planning to leave.
Once you calmed down, he continued to hold you, mumbling abstract thoughts that occurred to him, unrelated to anything that had you rolling up the walls like a penny. You knew it was on purpose - a delightful distraction crafted by psychological mastery, getting you to nod along to his plans for ‘the latest breakfast of all time’, listening to his mention of some park or square nearby, switching you off from the ghosts of a turbulent circuit that you were too used to existing in. You did not mind the chatter, the vibrations emanating across and from his chest as he spoke having turned into the most soothing sensation.
“...a date.”
“Huh?” only having registered the last part of the sentence, you jolted out of your empty musings.
“Since we are now dating, we will go on a date.”
“Makes sense.. But… how?” he chuckled breathlessly, detangling himself a little, just to look at you.
“How? Are you asking how people go on dates?”
“I guess…”
“Well then I’ll have to show you.”
As you lost yourself in another kiss, a thought, or more accurately, a small yet persistent wish buried itself in your mind. With all your being, you hoped that on this date, in every step towards new tomorrows, it would be only you and Mingi, and the metaphorical doors would remain shut, isolating and erasing your past. After all, you did not want to use him.
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enjoyed the fic? i would really appreciate any reblogs, comments, notes! much love!
#happy mingi day#loren's fic recs#ateez fics#mingi x reader#mingi fluff#mingi angst#mingi smut#bai <33#MOOT MOOT
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being a sleepy little puppy but my gf got me so so so excited n now im trapped in the limbo of excited puppy brain and the sleepiest puppy mode
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I’m sorry you’ve been feeling depressed baby. It sucks. I know that just changing things for the better doesn’t always stop depression. Of course it there. But! Grrr. Sorry lost train of thought. But! I’m glad your at least. You know. Getting by and doing routines! At least you haven’t fully shut down! Obviously the feelings you feel aren’t fun. But! Think about how far you’ve come! Idk fully but just think. A couple years ago if you were depressed you may not have even been able to do routines. I’m not saying this off fact or anything I’m just saying you’re maturing always. So it makes sense that you’re handling yourself better day by day. Depressed yes. But! Functioning! Of course it’s not good to stay there. But. Your eating. And finding a few ways to entertain yourself. It may be hard now. But you’ll strive for that happy!
I’m proud your keeping things tidy. And! Keep applying until you land one you really think works for you! I’ve been throwing out applications even if I’m meh about the job just to see my options.
And hmph. It sounds like you disassociate to either not feel that nauseous can’t breathe feeling. Or. You can’t breathe and are nauseous from the stress of everything on your mind so your brain is taking you to a place it can relax. Even if not really. I’m not saying this to tell you something you don’t know. Just trying to understand you more is all. Or like. Once again. Make you feel sane!
I’m setting you some side quests!
I’d say today or this week but I dont want to make you feel pressured so!
Sometime whenever you feel like it! Daddy is giving you this quests!
Play a video game Youve wanted to play! Even if it’s not fully the vibe. Pick a chill one and dive in! There’s been times I wasnt even into the game I was playing at first but then after a bit I ger more invested. It’s like! Swimming!
When the water is cold. You shove your whole body underwater to get it over with!
So when the game gets boring. Dive in! I know that doesn’t really make sense but! My gamer girl has to get a good gamer score before I take you back 😝 (just silly “confidence”. Like oh yeaaa you’re gonna work for that score just to get my favor 😝. You can try and win my favor if you want but you have it 🥺 hehe)
I’m gonna come back to some of this most likely so if I seem short it’s just cuz sleepy brain. I’m not passing out so don’t be upset! I just mean I’m not as. Supportive. Lovey. Daddy mode as much at the moment. But! They can say all the right things but do they DO the right things. And when the wrong things are said. How bad are they. Are they listening to you. Are you listening to them. Etc. My point is! Someone can say and do everything right. And it sometimes just isn’t it. And it isn’t always something that can be changed. But it also can. Meaning. Maybe your not wrong. Or maybe you are.
Like. Based off the past things you’ve said. I think it makes sense that you feel nauseous or not appreciated at times. Once again. Not trying to stir the pot. If this was you and me I’d be trying to work thru it but directly instead of me like. Sort of giving advice hehe. I’m sorry I’m rambles. But you’ll love reading right 🥺
If you have that sign of relief when their gone it sounds like they stress you out. And once again. The posts about. Making food n being mad. Doing things and being mad would be frustrating! Like. Of course I’m not saying break up. Run away. Etc. But at the very least. Your feelings. May very well be justified.
This point was basically to ease your thoughts on. Him saying things right and you still feel shitty. We’ll. Don’t! Maybe they have a lot of making up to do with you first! Convos and arguments are stressful and exhausting. I hope your finding time to relax! Maybe go for a walk. Get some fresh air. Listen to music.
Idk if I finished the quest comment.. video games! A walk! Music! Playing instruments! Drawing! Journal entries. Abstract stories. Have you ever just put a pen to paper and just let your brain guid the pen? Like just a silly tale
Once upon a time! There was man named chaddington. And he was the master shredder of waves! One time he hit a wave so good he split in half like Moses! (Red Sea reference. Uhh I only say that cuz that spelling of moses seems wrong lol. Mosas? Anyways) this of course upset the merpeople down below bcuz now they couldn’t cross to the other side. They voiced there upsets but chaddington was to busy not giving to fucks bout the fish folk. Then he said “you can’t even do anything about it! I’m on laaaand” 😝 then the brave MerMcdonald swam so fast! He dove across the water. Tackling chaddington into the water on the other side! From there the merpeople beat chaddingtons ass! He said. “Wait” and put up his might hand symbol 🤙. And the split in the water. Filled back with water. He apologized and decided that instead of being a jerk. He was gonna shred with the merpeople! Like. This! 🌊🧜🏻♂️🧜🧜🏻♀️🌊🏄♂️ and chaddington and mermcdonald high-fived at the peak of the wave.. the end… (then they kissed 😝😂) the end!
Sorry that went longer than expected. Just rambling daddy. I hope you enjoy my words. I’m sleeping! Come cuddle daddy pleeeease 🥰❤️🔥 I love you so much. Feel my hands on your face. Your shoulders. Wrapping my arms around. Your feelings are valid. You deserve to feel happy. And you will. Now may be a hard time. Even if “nothing happens”. You’re allowed to be upset about things upsetting you. Also. Based on things you’ve said. You really are allowed! Of course you don’t wanna feel these bad feelings. But. I hope your partner works on fixing their end. Don’t rush the family thing! Of course they’ll wanna see you. And you want to. But. Just think of ways over time on how to break the ice.
I’m gonna finish up now. I really love you H. I want what’s best for you. Maybe one day that’ll be me! And instead of typing I’ll be able to take action!🙈 just do your best to enjoy! Whatever you do! Mwah. Mwah. And this last one! A belly kiss! Mwah!
🥰😍💘
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adhd makes no sense because there is no surefire way to get yourself to do anything. it’s like a puzzle you cannot see that you’re required to put together that keeps changing every single time. how many pieces are in this puzzle? one? fifty? five hundred? sometimes you try to solve the puzzle only to realize the puzzle doesn’t exist
#text#adhd#HHHHH#ME: hey i should write lying down w the lights on w light mode#sometimes this works sometimes it’s too much and my brain cannot process the words#so i go oh! it’ll be better to write w lights off n w dark mode!#and then the next time i do this it doesn’t work because the darkness makes me SLEEPY#then i go oh i should write in the day time so i’m not tired!#but then oops! during the day there are too many distractions!!!!#not quiet enough!!!!!!#in my head and also the surroundings!!!!#then sometimes it’s#oh i should write on laptop!!#but then it’s too big#or the typing sounds are distracting#it’s like#i can’t win more than once at most and then#the next time i need a new solution#fjdjdjdjdjdj#it sucks#I hate it#i can’t even maintain my own interests properly#brain TOO BROKE#onekplus
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OH my gender is CLAY :D
#its pliable :D#ive been thinking abt the label genderfluid#n how 'fluid' feels like its water cuz waters fluid#n it got me thinking hehe waht abt clay thats pliable not fluid#and!! u got a realization!! :D my genders like clay!! its pliable n i ply it whenever i feel like it!! n sometimes other things could ply it#too!! like surrounding myself with characters that use certain pronouns could make me use the pronouns more!! n seeing what people around#me wear could determine what gender presenting clothes id be comfortable or uncomfortable wearing#most of the time its an unrecognizable blob that *could* look like (thing) when you squint and!! sometimes it looks like a sad lump of clay#that looks like nothing!!#plus being a lump of clay that could look like somtging could make you confused at what ur really looking at and thats why im confused abt#what its supposed to look like so!! clay :]#plus i like clay i think theyre cool :]#clay r v cool i once made a tiny bear n some tiered cakes with it :]]#i dont know if this is coherent its night skdkfkks#n my brain is in . sleepy mode#silly little gender tag#ramblings of a long forgotten god#i wonder if theres a claygender xenogender that sould be so cool
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