#no one else can write your characters the way u do

[hana-recs]

this fic is in fact everything. i laughed and cried and also live reacted to it because i don't know how to shut up (sorry jo) but i LOVED it so much. i will be thinking about them forever!!!!!!!!!

As usual, Mingyu has texted you privately, away from the group chat. ^ HA. they���re whispering. it’s a sign. but also — so much is done with that “as usual”. jo ur a genius and i love you.

[7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: just know that you are missing one of my best creations [7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: but dont worry i will save you some ☺️ because i’m the best roommate ever [7:31pm] You: thank youuuuu! I might not have any tonight but you know i’ll eat the leftovers! [7:31pm] Cinnamingyu: hows the date? [7:36pm] You: i am very bad at bowling actually!!! [7:36pm] Cinnamingyu: aim for the pins [7:43pm] You: have i mentioned that i hate you?

^ your honor i love them already. their dynamic is written so WELL like already u can tell how much they know each other, and how it’s different from their other friendships.

He calls you Sunny, but he’s the sun. Has been that way as long as you’ve known him - since undergrad. 

^SCREAMS. screams so LOUD. this is so cute but after reading “my feet to follow” im a little. apprehensive. i think about that fic SO MUCH.

Now he looks over at you, smiling beatifically, innocently. “There’s my Sunshine.” (…) “You’re cranky today,” he observes, the arm not trying (sort of) to slap Mingyu’s leg folded behind his head. “Why might that be?”

^this isn’t a jeonghan fic but my god i love him. roommate jeonghan does have my entire heart in his hand and he may do with it what he wills.

“I can stay, then,” Wonwoo says, a bit tightly - you can tell that wasn’t the plan. “So you aren’t alone.”

^ never mind. jeonghan and wonwoo have half of my heart each. (your characters are written so well and even in their small cameos they have so much presence and they don’t just feel like they’re there for no reason AGHH i love.)

…then makes his way over to his side of the bed. The empty side of your bed. Not his.

^ouchie. also a few paragraphs down — the timing of the texts between her and daeyoung!!!! hello!!!!!!!! i love tiny details like this they really just. make the fic.

And no one has thought of you, not like this, in a very long time.

^ so i would like to give her a hug. your main characters are always so likeable and relatable (😂🔫) and . yeah they just feel very human and i love it!!! but also; the significance of him and mingyu getting her flowers but mingyu knows her favourite 🥹 AND THE NOTE? “sunny flowers for sunny baby” okay well i’ll just cry myself to sleep or whatever.

Because he’s perfect, and he’s yours, but somehow you still don’t have him, and in the meantime no one else will ever be enough - just for not being him.

^ user daechwitatamic i have tears in my eyes. this fic is written so beautifully. i could Eat this angst like i truly feel like i foul take a bite out of it. which doesn’t make sense but i’m trying to say that it’s delicious. and also it hurts.

You were wrong when you said Mingyu was the sun. Mingyu is an avalanche. Rushing, rolling, thundering over and through you until there’s nothing left but a glinting field of ice and silence. Nothing else matters - nothings else exists - in his wake.

^ this is just gorgeous fucking writing and i truly don’t know what to do with myself anymore. she’s so in love with him and to my outsider third party eyes it’s so clear to me that they’re idiots!!!!!! please kiss!!!!!!!!!!!!! but then i also think that the complications and the uncertainty are written so cleverly that you completely understand reader’s pov 🥹

oh my god jeonghan’s whole entire talk with her made me so emotional like. i love him so BAD he’s such a good friend. 

LOVE the part where she was communicating w daeyoung bc i was slightly terrified (he seems so nice!!) that something would go terribly wrong there. however i have trust issues and so i’m. not fully convinced of anything right now 😭😭 

ok so this fic is so engaging and investing. the tension during the games scenes where daeyoung comes over is SO palpable i feel like i’m there and experiencing the discomfort with everyone else. idk there’s a very immersive feel to your writing and i appreciate it SO much . 

ope and i had a feeling something was going to happen there with daeyoung. the story is getting painful. i am feeling pained. like yay they made up! but also this is a mingyu fic and so i can just sense that this is a dip before the fall (i think i just made that up i really don’t think that’s a saying)

july section — 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 nothing funny but i have to laugh or i’ll cry. the dialogue here is something else 🥹 yn finally expressing herself and u can truly feel the emotion pouring out of the words i’m truly in awe of this fic.

the text messages were so soft. yn is stronger than me i would’ve folded but also i’m so glad that she made him grovel. i personally think men should always grovel 

SCRWAMS. THEYRE KISSING THEYRE KISSING THEYRE KISSING happy days. i literally let out a sigh of relief. omg the rollercoaster of emotions this fic has taken me on. i’m so glad they got their happy ending 🥹 this whole fic was written so beautifully - the characters were so human and realistic and the words were just so perfect and brought everything to life in the most wonderful way. and the CHARACTERS !!!! all the different dynamics were everything and all the different personalities were so interesting and none of them felt flat or one dimensional at all (which is something i struggle with so i admire this so much.) user daechwitatamic i will be forwarding u my therapy bill but thank you SO much for writing this and i apologise for this insanely lengthy and repetitive essay. i missed reading your writing 💗

Cinnamon || KMG

banner by @sailorrhansol

Written for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab!

Cinnamon mingyu x fem!reader (nicknamed Sunny), reader x male oc for a while fluff smut angst best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, idiots to lovers all apply NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: You finally decide to try and move on after years of waiting for Mingyu to return your feelings. But when you start bringing your new boyfriend around more often, things with Mingyu get... difficult.

WC: 19k

Warnings: language, recreational drinking and overdrinking, a brief mention of throwing up from a hangover, angst and hurt feelings, not miscommunication but definitely refusal to communicate, kissing (some with mg and some with a male oc), arguments, reader and mingyu are both imperfect people who make mistakes and do things wrong... theyre not bad or toxic people but their choices can be hurtful... theyre humans who mess up have to just do their best to do better going forward, quick and prosey smut scene with piv penetration

A/N: thank you to @sailorsoons and @eoieopda for beta-inggggg iluuuuu

--

December

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

You grumble in response, eyes still mostly closed, as you make your way by muscle memory to your apartment’s barely-functioning coffee machine. Only once you’ve poured a mug, stirred in everything you need to make it palatable, and taken your first sip, do you speak actual words.

“Morning. You’re up early.”

Jeonghan, one of your three roommates, nods solemnly. “I have a nine o’clock meeting today, but I need to get some files together first, so I’m trying to be there by eight,” he tells you. You glance at the clock on the microwave - it’s already 7:20.

“You might want to get moving,” you warn him.

He makes a face that says, I know, but - and cocks his head towards the bathroom the four of you share. The door is closed and the light inside is on, which means it must be occupied. It’s not usually a problem, even with four of you - your schedules are just different enough that it works out.

You frown. “Wonwoo isn’t gone yet?” He’s usually the first one out of the house on weekdays since he’s got the longest commute.

Jeonghan shakes his head, but then the light clicks off and the door opens. A girl you’ve never seen before steps out cautiously, then pauses when she sees the kitchen isn’t empty.

“Oh,” she breathes. “Hi. Good morning. I’ll just -”

She gives you each a polite nod and slips quickly back through the nearest door - Mingyu’s bedroom.

You face Jeonghan again and roll your eyes. He gives you a bit of a grimace and gets up, hurrying into the now-empty bathroom.

You take his seat at the table, sip slowly at your coffee. Having three guys as roommates means this happens with relative regularity, though usually the guys keep their conquests to weekends and holidays. Mingyu must have really liked this girl to bring her home on a weeknight. You glance back at his closed door; you can faintly hear their voices, but not what they’re saying. She was pretty.

You tuck away whatever feelings you might have about this, just like you always do, wipe your heart as clean as a classroom chalkboard at the beginning of a new day. Jeonghan vacates the bathroom, clearly in a hurry, and you take his place, turning the shower on and praying that there’ll be enough hot water left to get you through. (There’s not.)

Later, as you sit on the train amidst a sea of other morning commuters, you check your phone.

Roomies 💕

[8:07am] (jeong)Han Solo: i would like to issue a formal complaint

[8:07 am] wonuuu: i left plenty of coffee bro

[8:07am] (jeong)Han Solo: not that

[8:09am] Cinnamingyu: if this is a noise complaint… i’m sorry but also no i’m not

[8:09am] You: you’re disgusting

[8:09am] Cinnamingyu: you love me

[8:10am] You: 🙄

[8:10am] (jeong)Han Solo: so does the girl whose presence in our one (1) bathroom made me late this morning

[8:10am] (jeong)Han Solo: if i get fired you’re covering my part of the rent

[8:11am] Cinnamingyu: have fun defending that in small claims court

[8:11am] You: i am happy to be a witness on your behalf

[8:11am] Cinnamingyu: et tu brutus?

[8:11am] You: my shower was lukewarm at best

[8:12am] You: you will be hearing from my counsel

[8:12am] You: thanks in advance wonwoo

[8:14am] wonuuu: for the millionth time… I cannot be your counsel. I’m not qualified yet.

[8:14am] You: yet ☝️

[8:17am] Cinnamingyu: let’s not ignore the real problem here… we need another bathroom

[8:21am] (jeong)Han Solo: ok great, tell me when you win the lottery so we can move out

Chuckling, you slide your phone back into your coat pocket as the train pulls into your stop. You hurry through the train station, tucking your chin into your coat collar as you speed through the icy December morning. It’s one of those dry cold days, where the air around you feels frozen, almost hurts to breathe. Everything is grey - sky above you, buildings around you, ground below you. Fast steps take you the three blocks to your office building, where you sigh in relief as the heated air hits your face, chasing away the chill.

You check your phone again as you hang your coat on your chair in your cubicle. As usual, Mingyu has texted you privately, away from the group chat.

[8:31am] Cinnamingyu: sorry about the hot water :(

[8:38am] You: you should be. i shivered through my whole conditioning routine.

[8:38am] Cinnamingyu: poor sunny baby :( :( :( will you ever forgive me?

You roll your eyes, but you’re fighting a smile. You hate that Mingyu can just charm you right out of a mood, and you hate it even more than he knows it and weaponizes it. He’s the one who gave you the nickname Sunny (or Sunshine depending on how cranky you were at the given moment) back when you were a college freshman. Your other roommates picked it up, but Mingyu was the only one who ever turned Sunshine or Sunny into Sunny Baby.

It’s absolutely horrendous, unfathomable, deeply unfair that it works, that it makes you melt into goo when he uses it. Still, you try to hold strong.

[8:38am] You: don’t you Sunny Baby me Kim Mingyu, you have crimes to answer for!!!

[8:39am] Cinnamingyu: ill cook for you tonight as penance. and then maybe a movie?

You frown. You wish you could take him up on the offer. Mingyu’s a great cook. One of the many things you love about him.

[8:39am] You: rain check. i won’t be home for dinner

[8:39am] Cinnamingyu: what’s this? did you manage to bag a man????

[8:39am] You: i hate you so much

[8:39am] You: yes you absolute scrambled egg, i have a date

Mingyu sends you a gif of an old man suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, and you laugh out loud. Then you stash your phone behind your keyboard and get to work. But when you check it again a few hours later, after your first meeting of the day lets out, he’s texted you again.

[8:40am] Cinnamingyu: is it the same guy as last week? date number TWO?? 😮

[10:51am] You: yeeeeees 🤭

[10:51am] Cinnamingyu: wow, big moves for you. a second date! do we need to have The Talk?

[10:51am] You: blocked and reported

This is an ancient song and dance for you and Mingyu. When you’ve been friends as long as you have, some things just become routine. Like you, gracefully ignoring the handful of girls that you never see a second time. Like him, acting like it’s monumental when you actually give someone a chance.

He’s used to you giving no one a chance, ever. He knows it doesn’t happen much.

But you had a good first date with Daeyoung last week. A really good first date. You’d been texting a lot since then, too. He was funny - witty. And cute. So you’d thought to yourself… what the hell. Why not? Why not go out a second time? What else were you going to do tonight?

(Stay home and eat the food Mingyu cooks for you. Watch a movie together on the couch.)

And, sure, you do want to do those things. But going out with Daeyoung tonight won’t change a thing between you and Mingyu. He’ll grill you about it when you get home, maybe tease you a little, and you’ll do food and a movie another night.

Daeyoung takes you bowling. You weren’t sure how you’d feel about it, not having been in a bowling alley since you were a kid, and remembering them as vaguely sticky places. But it ends up being kind of cute, maybe even nostalgic. Daeyoung buys a pitcher of beer and sets it on your - yes - sticky table, and walks with you as you select a pink ball that is definitely meant for children. 

“You know that’s only six pounds, right?” he asks you, smiling playfully.

“Bold of you to think I could lift a heavier one,” you deadpan, and he laughs. You like his laugh - it’s easy, light, like he’s wholly uncomplicated. You could use some uncomplicated in your life. 

You're terrible at bowling - you score a 42 on your first game, the ball finding the gutter more times than it stays on the lane. Even so, you manage to have fun. Daeyoung doesn’t make you feel weird about it - in fact, he barely pays attention to the actual bowling. Instead he talks to you about your day, asks about your family, doesn't seem like he's freaked out that you live with three guy friends. He doesn’t even ask the very common, “so, has anything ever happened there?” for which you’re grateful. 

He’s got three sisters, you learn, and grew up with cats but still wants a dog someday. He graduated two years before you, has never traveled outside the country. 

You offer back your own resume of sorts - an older sister and a younger brother, no pets growing up and allergic to most mammals (perhaps humans included, as has been pointed out by Mingyu on many occasions, usually in the same conversation that he’s calling you Sunshine and pinching your cheeks like your attitude is cute). Graduated with Honors and haven’t traveled much either, though you’d love to when you have some money saved up.

Your phone lights up on the table every so often, and you check it while Daeyoung takes his turn on the lane. A few are Jeonghan and one of your co-workers, and one is your little brother asking how to get blood out of laundry which is super alarming - but the rest are from Mingyu.

[7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: just know that you are missing one of my best creations

[7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: but dont worry i will save you some ☺️ because i’m the best roommate ever

[7:31pm] You: thank youuuuu! I might not have any tonight but you know i’ll eat the leftovers!

[7:31pm] Cinnamingyu: hows the date?

[7:36pm] You: i am very bad at bowling actually!!!

[7:36pm] Cinnamingyu: aim for the pins

[7:43pm] You: have i mentioned that i hate you?

[7:43pm] Cinnamingyu: guess i’ll throw these leftovers out then

[8:12pm] Cinnamingyu: what time do you think youll be home?

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: sorry i didnt mean that like WHEN WILL YOU BE HOME YOUNG LADY

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: i was asking bc i was deciding if i want to start a movie or wait for you i wasnt trying to

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: you know

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: anyway. aim for the pins. wear protection. etc. see you later lol

[8:38pm] You: young lady 🙄 go away mingyu!!! 

[8:38pm] Cinnamingyu: you dont mean that

[8:38pm] You: i don’t 😘

[8:47pm] You: if you wanna save a movie for me… i should be home by 11

Daeyoung drives you home after the date, and you note that his car is clean, but not serial killer clean. A green flag. 

When he asks if he can see you again soon, as he's pulling the car up to your building, you tell him yes without hesitating. It’ll be your first third date in maybe ever, and you make a little note in your brain that you should probably talk to him about this, make sure he can be on the same page - that this is fun and you’ll keep going out as long as it’s a good time, but you aren’t really looking for serious.

When he pauses, leaning in a little closer, you feel yourself smile, and you let him. It’s a nice kiss.

He’s a nice guy.

There’s no reason you couldn’t follow through with this. There’s no giant problem with him, no personality quirk or inherent difference that makes him ineligible.

But. 

You push the thought away. “Thanks for tonight,” you tell him. “I had a good time.”

“You’d have a better time if you listened to my advice and used a heavier ball,” he says seriously, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he’s teasing. “You can’t expect to knock down pins when they weigh more than what you’re throwing at them.”

“Sounds fake,” you joke, and hop out of the car. Before you shut the door, you pause. “See you next weekend?”

His smile unfurls, pleased. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll text you.”

You practically skip back into the apartment. You pause at the closet by the front door, pulling off your boots and hanging up your puffy winter coat. You can hear the tv on in the living room and water running in the kitchen.

You step into the kitchen, heading for the fridge. Mingyu stands at the sink, his back to you, up to his elbow in suds. You bump him with your hips as you pass by, and he kicks at you and misses. You open the fridge and grab a can of seltzer. Mingyu smiles at you from the sink, and just like that, Daeyoung evaporates from your mind.

He calls you Sunny, but he’s the sun. Has been that way as long as you’ve known him - since undergrad. 

You’d met in your freshman year - he was puppy-dog cute, back then, not the chiseled sculpture of a man who takes up half your kitchen now. You’d been in the Arts and he’d been in the Sciences - something mathy - but you’d bonded in one of those godawful general requirement classes, and somehow the friendship had taken hold.

Mingyu holding your hand - metaphorically and literally - through your two required math classes and two required science labs was the only reason you’d even managed to graduate. Of course, you’d also written every single formal paper he had through the whole four years, so it evened out.

You complement each other that way, in every area. He’s outgoing and friendly, you’re cranky enough to be given the nickname Sunny in pure irony. Mingyu likes puzzles and problems he can work out, you like to turn the brain off for any and all hobbies. Mingyu is sunshine and big smiles, you are made of salt and sarcasm. 

But you love each other - have been best friends since almost the moment you met. There is nothing in your life you’d be willing to lose less than him.

You wander up to him and lean against his arm, mostly to be funny because he continues to wash dishes even as it jostles you around, and it becomes a little game of him trying to shake you off and you refusing to be shaken.

“How was your night?” he asks finally, reaching to turn off the water. You automatically pass him a dish towel to dry his hands. He takes it, drying, and then reaches around you to hang it back up near the oven. 

“Not as good as yours,” you snicker, noticing a purple blotch near his collar.

He flushes dark, slapping a hand over the spot. “Yah,” he complains. 

You laugh. “She was cute!”

“She’d be cuter if she spent less time in our bathroom!” Jeonghan’s disembodied voice floats from the living room.

“Alright, we get it!” Mingyu calls back hotly. “You’ve only been complaining about that for fifteen hours!”

Cackling, you follow him out into the living room. Jeonghan is sprawled sideways on the two-seater, a show you don’t recognize playing across the tv screen. Down the hallway, Wonwoo’s door is open about a foot, casting the hallway in flickering blue light that tells you he’s gaming and you probably won’t see him for the rest of the night. 

“So,” Jeonghan says dryly, without peeling his eyes from the tv, “I noticed your boyfriend’s car idling outside for quite a while before you came in. Were we necking?”

“Necking?” you splutter. Beside you, Mingyu is biting on his lips, trying not to laugh at your expense. “What year is this, 1950? And he’s not my boyfriend. You know that.”

You can’t help the defensive edge that creeps into your voice. From where he’s plopped on the couch, Mingyu reaches up for your hand, tugging. You let him pull you into the space next to him and he rubs a soothing hand across your shoulders before taking his hand away. It’s a silent, quick moment - easy to miss if you aren’t looking. But you are looking, always, and you wonder if he even knows he does this - reads your moods, rushes to fix you. 

Unbothered by your ruffled feathers, Jeonghan asks lightly, “So, are you seeing him again, or…?”

The bastard hasn’t even looked away from the television screen.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” you grumble at him.

Now he looks over at you, smiling beatifically, innocently. “There’s my Sunshine.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well?” Mingyu asks from next to you, eyebrows raised. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to sound casual. You can tell the jackals are in a mood tonight.

Jeonghan’s face splits into a delighted grin. “A third date? My goodness.”

“We all know what happens on a third date,” Mingyu says sagely, and you punch him in the thigh, extra hard since you can only reach him and not Jeonghan too.

Wonwoo’s voice comes from down the hallway. “Leave Sunny alone, you guys.”

“Yeah,” you grumble. “Leave Sunny alone.”

Mingyu stretches over your lap to reach for the remote. It brings his torso almost flush against yours and you feel your face heat. 

“I was watching that,” Jeonghan complains before Mingyu even presses anything.

“Sunny and I are watching a movie,” Mingyu says flatly. “Go watch on your laptop if you care so much.”

Jeonghan reaches towards your couch lazily and slaps at the air like he can’t be assed to work any harder to hit his roommate. “You’re cranky today,” he observes, the arm not trying (sort of) to slap Mingyu’s leg folded behind his head. “Why might that be?”

Mingyu doesn’t answer him, just settles back next to you, his arm against yours, and starts scrolling through movie options.

He still hasn’t picked one when Wonwoo appears in the living room’s doorway, leaning against the wooden frame, his LED headset looped around his neck and his eyes on his phone.

“What are we watching?” he asks absently.

“Nothing, apparently,” Jeonghan quips.

Beside you, Mingyu growls a little.

Unphased - this is so normal for them, it would be more alarming if they weren’t pissing each other off - you look up and Wonwoo and say, “I didn’t think you’d emerge tonight.”

“I’m heading right back in,” he admits. “Hydration break. Anyway - question. What’s everyone’s plans for the holidays?”

Mingyu stops scrolling, pausing to think. 

“I’ll be home,” Jeonghan says, meaning his hometown.

“Me, too,” Mingyu adds. “I’m leaving on Sunday. Next Sunday, I mean.”

Wonwoo lets out a little sigh. “Okay. My folks were asking when I was coming. Sunny, you’re going home, too?”

“Uh, no, actually,” you admit. “I was staying here.”

You feel rather than see your friends share a glance. 

“I can stay, then,” Wonwoo says, a bit tightly - you can tell that wasn’t the plan. “So you aren’t alone.”

“No,” you protest. “I’m perfectly fine being here by myself, you know that.”

“Sunny Baby is an indoor cat,” Mingyu notes, and you bump him with your elbow. 

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Plus, I think Daeyoung will be around, so I won’t be alone the whole time anyway.”

Mingyu’s eyes bore into the side of your face, but you don’t look at him; if it’s pity he’s leveling at you, you don’t want it. 

“If you’re sure,” Wonwoo says, and when you assure him you do, he vanishes into the kitchen and then back into his room. Mingyu clicks on a movie and you settle in, eventually getting sleepy and shifting sideways, your head resting comfortably on his unfairly sculpted shoulder. He shifts to let you get more comfortable, and the night passes as simply and pleasantly as hundreds before.

When the movie ends, you pick up the bottles and cans from the coffee table while Mingyu does a quick lap of the apartment, turning off lights and making sure doors are locked. You meet outside the bathroom - occupied by Jeonghan - both waiting your turn to brush your teeth and whatever else before bed. 

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu says softly, something tentative in his voice, and you look up at him, heart suddenly thumping. He’s looking at you earnestly in the dim light from the bedrooms down the hall, something you’re not sure you can name on his face. It’s almost pleading, but that doesn’t make sense. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me for the holidays? My family would love to have you - they’re obsessed with you, you know that.”

Your heart calms. “It’s really okay,” you promise. “But thanks for checking.”

The bathroom door opens and Jeonghan slips by, leaving a wave of toothpaste-mint in his wake. 

“You go ahead,” Mingyu says.

“You were in line first,” you argue.

He rolls his eyes but knows how stubborn you are, so he disappears into the bathroom. You lean your butt against the kitchen table and check your phone for the first time in a while.

Daeyoung had texted shortly after he drove away - probably as soon as he got home.

[11:24pm] Daeyoung: I had a really good time tonight. Looking forward to next week :]

[12:51am] You: me too ☺️

The bathroom door opens and you turn off your phone screen with a click, bidding Mingyu goodnight as you slide into the bathroom’s light.

–

January 

New Year’s Eve

Roomies 💕

[11:13pm] (jeong)Han Solo: sunny where’d you end up tonight?

[11:13pm] You: i’m with the girliesss!!! where are you guys

[11:13pm] Cinnamingyu: sunnnyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy baby baby baby

[11:13pm] You: yyyeeesssss??

[11:14pm] (jeong)Han Solo: we’re downtown. mingyu cant come to the phone right now but i think he wants you to come hang out with us

[11:14pm] You: lmao nooooo he didnt even make it to midnight??? thats sad, kim mingyu

[11:16pm] Wonuuu: u ever think about that phrase “can’t come to the phone”… from an era in which you had to walk to the family’s landline phone in the kitchen or whatever… none of us were even alive for that

[11:16pm] You: wow apparently you guys are having a much better time than me

[11:16pm] (jeong)Han Solo: only wonwoo lol ok be safe and have fun!! see you at home

–

[11:14pm] Cinnamingyu: come out!!

[11:14pm] You: i am out! Lol

[11:15am] Cinnamingyu: you know what i mean

[11:16am] You: im sorry :( but we’re across town and by the time we got there we’d miss the countdown

[11:16am] Cinnamingyu: ok 🙁

[11:16am] You: don’t pout!!! i’ll see you at home tomorrow and we can hang out all day

[11:16am] Cinnamingyu: not the same!

[11:17am] You: ok lets take a shot together!!

[11:17am] Cinnamingyu: ???

[11:17am] You: go order one and tell me when you’re ready!!

[11:18am] Cinnamingyu: lmao on it 🫡

[11:28am] Cinnamingyu: ok im ready

[11:28am] You: ok when you get this count to three and take your shot! 

[11:29am] You: geonbae or cheers or salute or whatever

[11:29am] Cinnamingyu: or whatever 🙄 

[11:29am] You: 😘

New Year’s Day

Roomies 💕

[12:00am] You: HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVES OF MY LIFE LET THIS BE THE BESTEWT YEAR FOR US EVER EVER EVR!!!!!

[12:00am] Wonuuu: happy new year sunny 🙂

[12:00am] (jeong)Han Solo: happy new yearrr 😽

[4:09am] You: home safe ♥️ 

[10:33am] Wonuuu: i’ll be home tomorrow sunny

[12:42pm] (jeong)Han Solo: i’ll be back tonight but probably not until after dinner

[12:42pm] You: ok! i’ll be here

[3:17pm] (jeong)Han Solo: is mingyu alive???

[3:17pm] You: lol yeah he’s home. he’s just… not in the best shape asfjkasfhaio

[12:00am] Cinnamingyu: happy new year sunny baby 🩷

[12:01am] You: happy new year best friend!!!!!!! ily ily ily!!!!

[12:32am] Cinnamingyu: you kno you could still meet us out nw

[11:23am] Cinnamingyu: can u open the front door… my head hurts too bad to make the keys work

You stagger to the apartment’s front door, eyes squinting against the harsh daylight streaming into the living room and kitchen area. When you unlock and pull open the door, Mingyu almost collapses on top of you.

“Get up,” you groan, shuffling backwards. “You’re too heavy, I can’t hold you!”

“Shhhh,” he whispers, but rights himself to standing. 

You stand there for a minute, both of you just grappling with the horrible reality of being awake and upright and, god, very hungover.

“I need to lay down,” Mingyu says finally, very clearly, like he’s had a sudden burst of self-preservation.

“Come on,” you wave at him vaguely and make your way back to bed. You collapse right into the spot you’d vacated when he texted, pulling the blankets up to your ears and closing your eyes, waiting for the bed to dip beside you. 

It doesn’t.

You open your eyes again. “Mingyu?”

He appears wordlessly in your doorway, then makes his way over to his side of the bed. The empty side of your bed. Not his. You have to stop thinking that way.

You’re puzzled, but then he leans over and presses a cold water bottle into your hand. Despite his whining, he was still trying to take care of you. 

“Did you take any pain killer?” you mumble. 

“Probably more than was actually advisable,” he admits, twisting his own water open and drinking noisily. You don’t see a problem with this - Mingyu is gigantic, and you can imagine his dosing needs would reflect it.

“Okay,” you say with a little sigh. “We’ll sleep for a while and then maybe we can try to eat.”

“God, don’t talk about food,” he moans, taking one of your extra pillows and covering his face.

You chuckle lightly, and then roll to hide your face somewhere near his bicep, breathing in his familiar cinnamon scent and matching your breaths to his until you slip back under. The millionth time you’ve fallen asleep next to your best friend, and you’re already eagerly looking ahead to a million and one.

You’re awakened by the sound of someone retching in the bathroom, clear on the other side of the apartment. You scrabble for and glance at your phone - hours have passed. The light in your bedroom has slipped closer to golden as mid-afternoon begins to wane. You sit up tentatively; this time there’s no wave of dizziness as a punishment for being vertical, though your head still pounds. 

You drink some of the water Mingyu brought you, answer a text from Jeonghan, then decide to go make sure Mingyu’s alive.

“You need anything?” you call through the door. You can hear the sink run, and the door opens. 

“A lobotomy,” he deadpans. He looks miserable, frown pronounced and eyes puffy. 

“Get back in bed,” you tell him gently, and he ambles off towards your room. You detour into the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. It might not save him, but you could use some caffeine. 

While it brews, you poke your head into your bedroom. Mingyu is back in your bed, curled up pitifully, that pouting frown still prevalent on his face. 

“What time did you take something?” you ask him.

“Like ten thirty,” he mumbles into your pillow. 

You glance at the clock. “You can have more,” you tell him, and head back across the apartment to pilfer through the medicine cabinet. 

With the pill bottle in hand, you stop in the kitchen long enough to pour yourself a cup of coffee. Carefully balancing so as not to spill, you bring it into the bedroom, placing it carefully on your nightstand and then nudging Mingyu’s shoulder. 

He whines a response. 

“I have drugs for you,” you tell him, and he holds up an open palm without lifting his face.  

You drop the medicine into his hand and get comfy back in your spot, even though you think you’re done sleeping for now. Beside you, Mingyu takes the pills and settles back into sleep. He’s snoring before you can even choose a show to watch on your phone. 

You look over at him fondly, disaster that he is. Then you settle in deeper, content to let his warmth radiate over to you, content to be by his side.

–

[12:02am] Daeyoung: happy new year! wishing you luck and happiness ☺️

[4:23pm] You: thank you!!! to you as well!!

–

February

Valentine’s Day is an emotional minefield. You don’t know if you want to lean into the bitter and single thing, or if you want to go all Gal-entines and pamper your friends, or if you want to just keep your head down and treat the day like any other fuck-ass Tuesday in winter.

The universe surprises you with a secret fourth option. Or, rather, Daeyoung does. 

You’ve lost track counting your dates with him at this point - you are simply dating. Neither of you has pushed for a what is this conversation, and you’re relieved. You like Daeyoung, you like the time you spend together, and you’d be sad if things ended. But at the same time, you don’t feel things getting deeper, and if he pushed you to make this serious, to put parameters on it, you’re not sure how you’d feel. 

Something inside you keeps it light - enough so that you don’t even think of doing anything for him to celebrate the holiday.

Apparently, you’re an asshole. 

Sometime after ten, your office’s secretary calls you, asking you to come up to reception for a minute. You’re suspicious, but you don’t do the mental math about what day it is until you turn the corner and see the small vase of roses - three of them, arranged with some baby’s breath and a few other fillers you can’t name - sitting on the reception counter.

“These got delivered for you,” she tells you, and it’s clear on her face that she’s dying for you to spill. “Are they from that guy? The tall one who looks like a movie star?”

This would annoy you if you weren’t so used to it. Everyone asks you if you’re with Mingyu - they never understand why you’re not when you two are attached at the hip.

It had happened once - just a kiss at a frat party, in the middle of the dance floor. You’d both been drinking, of course, and pressed close together to dance, his chest against your back and his hands on your hips and then you’d turned and tipped your chin up and his sparkling eyes had gone molten before he’d kissed you and your whole world had been swept away -

And you’d been interrupted, had been literally pulled away to deal with some drama happening in the kitchen, and somehow… you’d never talked about it. It never happened again.

Sometimes, you wonder if you only dreamed it. It wouldn’t surprise you.

But, no. Your imagination is good, but it’s not good enough to come up with the minute details of how his pecs had felt under your hands, how his fingers had felt pressed into the small of your back, how he had almost sighed into your mouth when it opened for him, how he had tasted a bit like cinnamon, courtesy of the fireball shots the frat was giving out like candy.

Anyway. Life goes on, right?

“No,” you tell the secretary quickly, because you know the roses aren’t from Mingyu. Even if he’d done something today, as your friend, he knows you aren’t much of a roses girl. “We’re just friends.” You will the words to leave your mouth without leaving ashes in their wake.

You reach for the small card tied around the thinnest part of the vase to see who did send them. 

Thought you deserved something pretty today. Don’t freak out. :] - Daeyoung

The secretary is still watching you, harmlessly curious. 

“It’s just a guy I’ve been seeing,” you say. “It’s not serious.”

“Wow,” she says, eyeing the simple arrangement. “Looks like he thinks it’s a little serious - or that it could be.”

“That’s probably true,” you muse out loud, taking the arrangement back to your own cubicle and setting it on your desk. You snap a photo and text it to Daeyoung with a thank you and a row of sobbing emojis. Then you stand behind your chair, eyes on the red petals, your hand pressed to your mouth, processing.

You didn’t expect to feel like this. A fluttering, a rush of excitement. Even though you aren’t into roses, specifically, the thought is very nice. And no one has thought of you, not like this, in a very long time. 

When you get home, the apartment is dark and empty. You wonder if any of the guys have dates tonight, or if they’re working late, or with family. You set the roses on the kitchen table, hang up your coat, and then shoot the grouptext a quick “where is everyone?”. Then you head into your room, eager to take a quick shower and change into something comfy.

You freeze when you flick on your bedroom light.

The clutter on your small desk has been pushed to the side, and a clear vase holds a thick bouquet of sunflowers - your favorite. 

You hear yourself gasp, the sound echoing through your head on a loop as you stare at the bright, yellow blooms. You step forward on shaky legs, reaching for the tiny card that’s slipped under the vase.

Sunny flowers for Sunny Baby. Love you. - M

The tears come with such unexpected force that you almost laugh through the third sob. You can barely see through the sudden stream of tears, can hear yourself struggling to inhale. You hurry to shut your bedroom door, locking it for good measure, and then those shaking legs of yours give up, and you sink to your knees and weep into your hands, trying to muffle the sounds, just in case anyone comes home.

You cry so hard it makes your abs hurt, makes the muscles in your face feel stretched, nearly makes you gag. You haven’t cried like this since undergrad.

Because he loves you, but he doesn’t love you, and even though you’ve been pretending for so long it’s as unconscious as breathing, it doesn’t shatter you any less. 

Because he’s perfect, and he’s yours, but somehow you still don’t have him, and in the meantime no one else will ever be enough -  just for not being him.

Because being thought of earlier by Daeyoung was nice, but it is so much better to be known, like this. Mingyu knows you don’t like roses. Mingyu knows your favorites. Mingyu knows you. 

And it’s a waste. It’s all for fucking nothing.

When the tears start to settle and you can breathe a little better, you push yourself back to your feet. You listen at your bedroom door and don’t hear anyone, so you hurry across the apartment and into the bathroom, where you blow your nose and splash your face with cold water. 

When you come out again, Jeonghan is in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says, his back to you. When he turns, he freezes, his face dropping. You must be puffy and red, still.

“Hey,” you reply meekly. 

“Oh, Sunny,” he says mournfully, stepping closer. “I told him he shouldn’t, but he asked why not, he’s your friend, and I couldn’t say -”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

He watches you carefully, probably trying to gauge if you’re lying. Then he spots the roses and lights up. 

“Well, well,” he says, a sly smile showing up on his face. “Those are nice.”

“Yeah,” you say again, the only word in your arsenal. “They are. I, um, I think I’m gonna shower. Do you need the bathroom first?” 

Under the spray of hot water, you cry a little more, like an aftershock hit you. It’s quiet this time, and you try to shoulder through it as you condition your hair, ready to put this whole episode behind you once you step out into the chilly bathroom air again.

When you emerge, Jeonghan is on the couch. By the sounds coming from down the hallway, Wonwoo has just gotten home and is dumping the contents of his life onto his bedroom floor. Jeonghan opens his mouth to say something, but you lift a fluffy-bathrobe-clad arm and silently shush him. 

“It’s fine,” you say again, firmly. 

Jeonghan had been your friend first, back in undergrad. You’d brought him into the friend group the same way Mingyu had brought Wonwoo. The four of you had worked cohesively as a friend-and-roommate unit for a long time, but sometimes those old alliances seemed to matter more than others. Jeonghan would never cross the line without your permission, would never tell your secrets if you weren’t willing to tell them yourself. Wonwoo, on the other hand, was much more likely to open his mouth - especially if he thought he was helping. 

The front door bursts open, and Mingyu enters the apartment in a cacophony of noise and dropped items, oranges spilling from the bag in his arms and rolling across the floor. You move to pick a few up as he puts the bag of groceries down and pulls his boots off.

“Sunny!” he says, all excitement, eyes shining. “Did you like my gift?”

You can’t even look at Jeonghan, turning your back to him completely as you hold out the oranges you’d collected. Mingyu takes them, but watches you eagerly, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I loved it.”

His smile triples.

You were wrong when you said Mingyu was the sun. Mingyu is an avalanche. Rushing, rolling, thundering over and through you until there’s nothing left but a glinting field of ice and silence. Nothing else matters - nothing else exists - in his wake.

“You better watch out, Mingyu,” Jeonghan says from the couch, and your blood runs as cold as that field of ice, because you know he’s about to start some shit. “Sunny got flowers from her lover today. That guy’s coming for your woman.”

You’re opening your mouth to reprimand him - tell him to shut up, or something - but Mingyu beats you to it.

“Sunny’s not mine,” he says simply. 

All that ice evaporates in an instant like it was never there.

“My lover,” you echo with a frown, when you can speak again. “Don’t say it like that, you weirdo.”

“Well, isn’t he?” Jeonghan asks innocently.

You head for your bedroom with a roll of your eyes. “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

“That means yes,” he sing-songs, and you slam your door shut.

Wonwoo’s voice floats through the door. “Who pissed off Sunshine?”

Mingyu’s grumble responds, “Who do you think?”

–

You and Mingyu lay side by side in the grass, a late spring night unspooling with cricket song and a smattering of flickering stars above you. His arm touches yours and you can feel his chest shift as he breathes deeply.

You feel content - you feel infinite - you feel like one of those blinking stars. You feel like you could lay here next to him in silence and be happy until your light goes out, just like theirs. 

“Mingyu,” you say, turning to look at him. The grass tickles your cheek. 

He turns to look at you, too. It’s dark, here behind the university’s main hub, most of the lights on the far side of the building. Still, there’s enough light to see his eyes, steady on you, his gaze serious.

“Sunny Baby,” he responds, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret. “I love you.”

You startle awake, heart pounding, and you’re immediately furious. 

“Fuck,” you hiss, punching your mattress once. 

The pathetic truth is you dream about that night in undergrad all the time - you and Mingyu on one of the last nights before summer break, leaving a party together and laying in the grass behind the advising department building watching the constellations rotate above you. 

The pathetic truth is the dream never follows the script, always turning the scene sideways, making it something different than what it was.

The pathetic truth is that Mingyu had been blacked out, more fucked up than you’d ever seen him, and you’d laid in the grass because you physically couldn’t keep him upright any further than that and you’d had to text Wonwoo to come help you. 

You hadn’t said anything to Mingyu - at least not something meaningful. You might have said please don’t puke on me, or god, you weigh a ton, or how many jaeger bombs did you do? 

He had said he loved you - had slurred it, eyes closed. 

You had laughed, even though it had sent a dagger through your chest. “Okay, Romeo,” you’d teased, and checked your phone to see if Wonwoo was on his way to help. 

“I do,” he’d insisted, one hand patting the grass next to him like he was trying to find you. “Sunny, I love you.”

You didn’t know how he meant it - still don’t know, to this day, because you don’t think he even remembered saying it and you’d been too afraid to bring it up.

What were you supposed to say? Hey, when you were blacked out last night, you said you love me… do you mean like… platonically… or…? 

God. The idea of it is just as humiliating now, years later, as it had been in the weeks that followed that night. And though he’s said it regularly since then - like on this fucking card with the sunflowers - he never said it like that, and you never pushed it. 

Now, awake and furious and sad at three in the morning, you grab your phone and climb out of bed. 

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s only making this worse for you. But you make your way on light steps through the dark and silent apartment to Mingyu’s door and push it open.

Is it mithridatism, this thing you do? Microdosing on the poison so that a full dose won’t kill you? No, that isn’t right. A full dose of Mingyu wouldn’t kill you. It’s an absence of Mingyu that you need protected from.

You climb into his bed and poke at his calves with your toes until he grunts as he wakes. Then, as he gathers his senses, he rolls to look at you over his shoulder.

“Bad dream?” he asks, voice kind of breathy with sleep.

“Mhm.”

He rolls the rest of the way, lifts his arm so you can scoot a little closer. You breathe easier immediately. It makes no sense that the thing that hurts you is also the only thing that makes you feel better. 

“Won’t your lover object to you getting in bed with me?” he asks, and you can hear the edge in his voice as clear as day.

You let out a single, wry ha. He’s got a point, but Daeyoung isn’t your boyfriend, you aren’t exclusive, and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“Nah,” you say easily. “I’m not his.”

-

March

March can’t make up its mind if it’s winter or spring. Warm days lull you into a false sense of security, and then a blistering cold rushes in just to call you a fool.

You’re the last one to get to the bar on Friday night after work, and you have to stand awkwardly next to the booth the guys have staked out and unwrap yourself - hat, scarf, gloves, puffer coat, big heavy sweater - before you can actually slide into the empty spot next to Mingyu.

“Hi bestie,” he says, immediately draping his arm behind your shoulders, resting on the back of the wooden bench. “How was your day?”

“Fuck Marcus in Accounting,” you answer.

“Fuck Marcus in Accounting,” your roommates all answer solemnly, because this is a common gripe. 

“Fireball and ginger ale it is, then,” Mingyu says, and climbs over you to head to the bar, his own empty beer glass in hand. When he slides the cocktail glass in front of you and scoots back to his original spot, you fill the guys in on Marcus’s Bullshit of the Day. 

“And then,” you finish the story, “I was like yeah, I know you did, Marcus, because she blind-copied me on her reply and you should have seen the color his face turned so I think it’s fair to say I won this round.”

“I’m surprised they aren’t all scared of you,” Wonwoo remarks. 

“Marcus is,” you say, glowering at your now-empty cocktail glass. “That’s why he’s such a dick. He hates that he’s intimidated.”

Mingyu’s arm has slid down from the back of the bench and rests lightly across your shoulder by this point, and he gives you a playful squeeze into his side as he laughs. 

He starts telling a story next, and you listen as you slip your phone out and check your texts. Daeyoung had texted you a while ago, and you shoot him a quick answer that you’re out with your roommates for Friday drinks, and then dial back into the conversation. 

When Mingyu’s glass is empty again, you rise, taking the empties up to the bar and signalling for another of each. While you wait, elbows on the bar, you check your phone again. Daeyoung had texted back, asking where you guys were drinking.

You hesitate. The idea of incorporating Daeyoung into the group makes you nervous. Behind you, you can hear Mingyu yapping a thousand miles a minute, and Jeonghan’s distinctive heh heh heh in answer. It’s not that you don’t think the guys will be nice… it just feels like a big move. 

It might be nice to have him there, though - someone on your side when Jeonghan and Mingyu gang up on you and Wonwoo is too in his own world to be effective back-up, someone to hold your hand and get your drinks, someone to be in your own private little bubble with when the conversation ebbs and flows away from topics you can engage with. 

You send him back “just a little place by the apartment!” which is technically true, and then grab the refreshed drinks for you and Mingyu. 

The guys are getting up, making noise about a just-vacated darts board, so you swivel and turn to follow them, a cold drink in each hand.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu tells you, half an hour later, bending down low so he can talk close to your ear over the loud music, “you have to put more muscle into it. You have to throw it like you want to pierce it.”

“I don’t think it’s that serious, actually!” you tell him cheerfully, and down the rest of your drink, pushing the empty glass into his giant hand. His turn. 

He shoots you a grin so sharp and devilish that it makes your whole body fight a shudder, and then he disappears off to the bar. 

You heckle Jeonghan through his turn (unsuccessfully - he’s way better at this than you) and then glance at the bar to see if the bartenders have gotten to Mingyu yet in the crowd. He’s facing you, his arms crossed, that same devilish smile on his face. He leans sideways on the bar, where your drink and his own beer sit sweating, forgotten. 

The girl he’s smiling at has her back to you, which is a miracle, because if she’d been able to see your face fall, she probably would have back-pedaled out of the conversation immediately - it would be impossible for her not to see that she was walking into a flashing neon sign screaming this situation is a mess!!!!

When she laughs, throwing her head back, and reaches a hand out to touch his forearm, you feel the whole bar swoop sideways around you. You’re fumbling for your phone, even as you hear Mingyu’s answering laugh cut through all the loud music and conversations filling the space, even as you watch through your periphery as he gives her a return nudge to the shoulder, playful, that smile only growing.

You’re going to be sick.

You shoot Daeyoung a text - sorry, I should have told you which bar. I’m leaving now though. Do you want to come get me? We could chill for a little? - and then you push your way through the bar, not even bothering to tell Jeonghan and Wonwoo goodbye. You make an extra effort to skirt the opposite wall as the bar, hoping you get out without Mingyu spotting you. 

There’s no way you could fake it right now. Zero chance. If he came after you, it would all be out in the open.

Daeyoung answers you almost immediately - no worries! sure, send me your location. you want to hang at my place? 

Outside, the cold air assaults you. You immediately hesitate, wishing you’d grabbed your coat. You’ll get pneumonia waiting for Daeyoung without it.

You’re saved the trouble of going back in - the door opens and someone comes out after you. But it isn’t Mingyu - it’s Jeonghan, giving you the heaviest side-eye you’ve ever seen from him, your coat in his hands.

“Thank you,” you breathe when he’s close enough, taking the coat and sliding it over your arms. “It’s freezing.”

“Sunny,” he says, and something in his voice makes you pause. “I think we should talk.”

You cover your face with one hand, embarrassed and spent and tired. “About what?” you ask flatly, just to buy yourself a second. You know the answer. Of course you do.

He levels you with a look. “This can’t continue,” he says firmly. “For you, or for him, or for me and Wonwoo.”

You scoff. “What do you two have to do with it?” 

You’ve never seen him this serious, and it scares you a little. “Do you think it’s easy for me to watch you get hurt?”

You lower your gaze to the ground and don’t answer this; it feels rhetorical. 

“But you’re right - it’s not about us. It’s about you. Something has to give,” he says gently. “Either face it and get your answer, or let it go.”

“It’s not that simple,” you argue.

“Yes, it is that simple,” he retorts. “It’s just scary. But that’s not the same thing.”

“I can’t tell him,” you say, because it’s true. You can’t. You can’t. “What if it messed up everything for all of us?”

What if you lost him completely? What if he moved out? What if he stopped talking to you? 

Jeonghan doesn’t reply to this at first, he just watches you carefully, then tucks a long strand of dark hair behind his ear. 

“You can,” he says finally, still gentle. “But… if you won’t… then you have to let him go.”

Your stomach drops at the words, even though this is a truth you’ve been aware of for ages, have been doing your best to avoid. 

“I don’t know how to do that,” you whisper. And it’s true - loving Mingyu feels as instinctual as your heartbeat, intrinsically part of who you are. How can you separate it out, shut it down? 

“Stop sharing a bed with him,” Jeonghan suggests, and it’s so simple and straight-forward and correct that you can’t think of a single argument. “Quit texting him but ignoring everyone else. Stop cuddling with him on the couch after work. Quit-”

“Alright, I get it,” you snap, the defensiveness rising up again like muddy waters. 

“I’m not sure you do,” he says, and the gentleness is gone from his tone; you’ve moved into the Tough Love section of the lecture, apparently. “You can’t keep playing house with him, pretending you’re together, and then falling apart every time he makes it clear that it isn’t real. You’ll never feel better like this. It will never change, Sunny. You’ll be like this, forever. Is that what you want?”

Your throat is tight and sharp, and you blink quickly, eyes on the ground again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he says it like he aches. Maybe he means it. “You could talk to him, you could at least see what he says -”

“No,” you interrupt. “No. I can’t do that.”

He shrugs, big and exaggerated. “Then move on. There are other people in the world who’d be happy to love you the right way. You can’t give any of them a proper chance if you’re holding it against them that they aren’t Mingyu.”

Like the one you ignored all night, who is still on his way to pick your ass up right now… 

You push your hands against your eyes like you can block out the truth of what he’s saying, but you don’t say anything.

Jeonghan reaches out and rubs your shoulder. “I’m gonna go back in,” he says, gentle again. “It’s freezing out here. Just… think about it.”

“I’m thinking,” you say dryly. 

He nods, then disappears back into the bar, the wave of sound crashing and fading as the door opens and closes. 

You stay outside and wait for Daeyoung’s car, your hands going numb from the cold. You run the whole thing over and over in your head, replay Jeonghan’s words, daydream a hundred conversations with Mingyu each with different endings. 

You think maybe you should take Jeonghan’s advice - put some physical distance between you and Mingyu, just as a starting point. 

You hate the idea of it. But you know he’s right.

When Daeyoung pulls up, you slide into the passenger seat and tell him thank you, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He smiles at you, all sweet, and then whisks you away. Halfway to his place, he glances over at you.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he observes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie, and then instantly feel bad for it. “Just… argued with my roommate. I’m kind of cranky.”

He reaches out and squeezes your knee once, reassuringly. “Well, you’re welcome to stay with me,” he says, and when you whip around to look at him, he laughs. “I wasn’t being presumptuous. I just meant if you needed some space from them, you’re welcome. That’s all.”

“Yeah, okay,” you repeat, settling back against the seat. “We’ll see.”

You keep your eyes on the window for the rest of the drive. 

You wonder if Mingyu brought that girl home, and then you shove that thought away, because you’re letting him go, starting tonight, and those thoughts aren’t going to serve you anymore.

And then you wonder the same thing again five minutes later.

–

April 

Winter softens, the temperature sturdies itself, and the season forms solidly into rain-logged spring. 

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu sings. Even on the greyest, soggiest days you turn to him like a plant turns to sun. “I’m bored.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” you quip. 

He drapes himself over you in retaliation, long arms and legs hanging heavy towards the floor as his torso smothers your face, drowning in you in his cinnamon-tinged scent.

You protest wordlessly and shove at him, and he laughs, his abs working near your chest with the motion.

“Entertain me,” he whines.

Things have been different - weird different, sometimes even bad different - for a few weeks now, all because of Jeonghan. You choose to blame him, anyway. 

What he said to you plays in your head on loop all day every day, and suddenly you don’t know how to act right with Mingyu, causing you to overcorrect and swerve wildly. Sometimes you’re spending the entire day with him, touching and talking and leaning into it - then you think about it too hard and you spend the next two days icing him out. 

It’s confusing for both of you. You can tell he notices, can tell he’s baffled by the change. More than once you’ve caught him looking at you like you’re a problem to solve - that face he makes when something isn’t working, or he’s got an equation of some sort to work out. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make you feel bad about it, doesn’t confront you, just takes what you’ll give him with a smile.

You haven’t gone to his room in the middle of the night since your talk with Jeonghan, either. It feels like quitting something. The withdrawal eats at your nerves, the cravings taking over until you can’t focus on anything else. More than one night since then you’ve laid awake, staring at your ceiling, heart pounding as you argue with yourself - just go, you’ll sleep and you’ll feel better waging war against Jeonghan’s you can’t keep pretending you’re together and then falling apart when he makes it clear that it isn’t real. 

Each time, you’d ended up staying in your own bed. Jeonghan is right. You knew it when he said it, and you know it now. You have to let go if you’re ever going to be happy. You can’t keep living in the shadows of Mingyu’s life, waiting for him to come give you just a slice of himself and pretending to be sated by it.

“I can’t entertain you, you pain in my ass,” you say, as he allows you to roll his heavy body off of yours and onto the other side of your bed. “I have a date with Daeyoung in like an hour. I need to go shampoo.”

“Booooo,” he complains. Then he props himself up on one elbow and gives you that familiar look again - the math problem look. Not calculating, exactly, but definitely evaluating. “You’ve been seeing him for a while,” he remarks, and you can hear the effort to keep his tone casual, which makes you wonder what he’s hiding.

“Like four months,” you say, not sure if this is agreeing with him or not.

He nods, then rolls to face your ceiling, arms behind his head. It does disgusting things to his biceps, and you look away, sitting up and reaching for your phone to check the time.

“How’s that going?” he asks, still all casual. 

“Good,” you say airily, still not looking at him.

“Sunny,” he says, a bit more seriously, and it’s enough to make you glance his way. He’s facing you, arms still behind his head, but watching. “Why won’t you talk to me about it?”

Ice flows through your veins so quickly that you have the urge to blow on your fingers to warm them. Talk to me about it. You take a calming breath, remind yourself that he’s asking about Daeyoung, not about your feelings in general.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug. “Just feels weird.” 

“It didn’t used to,” he says, and you know exactly what he means. You’d always talked to him about anything - including boys and crushes. 

He doesn’t ask so what’s different now, but you know the answer anyway. You’re afraid you’ll say anything, and Mingyu - who knows you better than anyone else - will hear everything you aren’t trying to say. How you feel about him, how you’ve been trying to create distance and boundaries, how it’s been unsuccessful because you have no sense of consistency, how you can’t seem to accept that you don’t get to have him, how Daeyoung is so nice and fun and cute but still can’t silence the urge behind your ribs that screams for Mingyu.

“Yeah,” you sigh, acknowledging that he’s right - that you used to tell him everything. “I don’t know, Mingyu. It’s good. I like him. Like… I don’t necessarily think he’s The One or anything, but I’d be upset if we broke up?” 

Mingyu nods, something complicated on his face. “Well,” he says finally, “That’s good. I’m glad it’s going well. You deserve it.”

There’s something flat in his voice, and you stand because you can’t just sit there next to him right now. 

“Thanks,” you say, because you don’t know what else to say. “Well… I’m gonna go shower so I’m not late.” You grab the few things you need from your room and pause in your doorway. He’s pulled out his phone, his thumb swiping slowly and his eyes on the screen, and you carry on across the hallway, leaving him behind.

The way you need to. The way you’re trying to. 

Daeyoung takes you to dinner, making you laugh so hard you have to wipe under your eyes, and listening intently when you bitch about work (and, yes, Marcus in Accounting). 

After, as you walk along the river, looking out at the lights, Daeyoung reaches for your hand, and you link fingers. 

This is what you need - to lean into it with someone, to really try with someone. Maybe that will ease this process of shifting Mingyu to the background. Maybe you just need to try.

Like he can read your mind, Daeyoung slows, turning to look at you. He says your name hesitantly, and you match his slowed pace, waiting.

“We’ve been doing this for a while,” he says, kind of hesitantly, “and I kind of wanted to see if we’re on the same page.”

When you just look at him, he forges ahead, the words rushing out of him now. “I really like you, and I really like this… and I was wondering how you’d feel about… maybe being more official?”

You feel yourself flush, a smile tugging at your lips. “Are you… asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He smiles back, relief washing over his face. “Yeah,” he says, much more confident now. “Yes, I am.”

You lick your lips, suddenly unsure. “Daeyoung,” you say, and you watch his face fall. You hurry to amend - “No, I’m not saying no! It’s just… I don’t know… I feel like we’ve kept things pretty… light. And I just worry that if we get more serious and you see more of me… you might…”

You trail off. He watches you intently, and then finishes for you, “Change my mind?”

You nod meekly. What if you can’t do it - what if you can’t push Mingyu out of your head and heart, what if you can’t start fresh with someone? Daeyoung has been wonderful to you. He doesn’t deserve to get hurt. He doesn’t deserve to be second choice, doesn’t deserve to be a consolation prize. 

You can’t say yes if that’s what this will be. You need to be sure you’re all in, you need to be sure you want him and not just the fresh start he represents.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you say instead, quietly. 

He considers this, watching you carefully. “Why do you think you will?”

It’s a fair question. “I’m… trying to get over someone,” you force yourself to say. He deserves to know what he’s walking into. 

You watch his face for any change in expression. His expression does ripple a little, and then he licks his lips and asks, “And how’s that going?”

You scuff the toe of one shoe absently along the pavement. “Goes better when you’re around,” you admit. “But I don’t want to be… like… using you, I guess? It feels… unfair.”

He nods. “I appreciate that,” he says, looking away from you, at the river. He’s quiet for a while and then asks, “Are you into this? With me?”

“Yes,” you say emphatically, because despite the Mingyu of it all, it’s true. “I just don’t want you to end up with regrets.”

He smiles kind of ruefully. “Thanks for being honest,” he says, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb. 

“What are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper. You really hope you aren’t breaking up right now, but you wouldn’t blame him if he called it off.

He lets out a long breath, very slowly, measured. “I’m thinking that no one can make promises at the beginning of a relationship.”

Your stomach jolts, terrified, at the word. He continues, oblivious.

“But,” he says, “you just take it a day at a time. That’s all I’m asking for - just a day. And then maybe another. We can go from there.”

You consider this, that tiny smile returning. He waits for your answer.

“Okay,” you say finally. “Yeah. If you’re sure you want that, then… yes.”

“Yes?” he repeats, like he needs to be sure. He’s already grinning, despite the turn the conversation had taken on the way here.

You laugh, feeling suddenly shy. “Yeah. Yes.”

He kisses you next to the singing river, and later you take a selfie together beside a food cart. You post it to social media with a blue heart emoji for the caption. 

You swallow hard and swipe roughly to remove the notification when Mingyu likes the picture minutes later. 

–

May

“Kim Mingyu!” you bellow, scooping up an armload of shirts and socks from the living room floor. “Get your gross, sweaty clothes off of our shared couch! The hamper is like three feet away!”

“Yah,” he complains, coming to take the offending pile from you. “You never cared before!”

“Well now her boyfriend is coming over,” Jeonghan says, somehow making the word sound sleezy. “She wants it to be pretty in here.”

“I hate you both,” you say. “I only like Wonwoo. He’s my only friend. Wonwoo, you’re my only friend.”

Wonwoo gives you a very deadpan finger heart from his spot on the couch. 

Unfortunately, Jeonghan is kind of right. 

You’ve mostly spent time out with Daeyoung or at his place - mostly because he lives alone and you live with a cast of clowns. But he has come over a handful of times. Sometimes he’s only there long enough to stand awkwardly by the front door while you finish putting on jewelry and shoes before whisking you away; other times he’s stayed to eat take-away and watch a movie as the aforementioned clowns filter in and out, leaving snappy comments like use protection in their wake. 

Tonight’s the first time that the plan is for everyone to hang out. To say you’re nervous is an understatement, as evidenced by the uncharacteristic way you pace the house, adjusting items Daeyoung has already seen out of place as if it makes any difference.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu finally says, coming up and putting his hands on your shoulders, trying to still you. You pull back from his touch as gently as you can, trying to make that space with some subtly. “Why are you freaking out? He’s been here before.”

“Yeah, you’re right, why would I be nervous?” you ask sarcastically. “Why would I be nervous to have my boyfriend come over for games and movies with three notoriously very nice people who never make trouble?”

“Rude,” Wonwoo remarks from the couch.

“Not you, Wonwoo, you’re my only friend,” you tell him without even turning your head. You hear Jeonghan snort.

“You said three,” Mingyu points out seriously, stepping back from you like he silently got the memo about space. “That includes Wonwoo.”

“Fine, I retract my statement. Two people who make trouble, and then one person who knows how to be normal sometimes.”

A knock on the door interrupts you before anyone can push your buttons any further.

“Be nice,” you tell them sternly as you head to open the door. “Be normal. For the love of god, at least try.”

“She has no faith in us,” Jeonghan says sadly behind you. 

“We probably shouldn’t try Monopoly tonight,” Mingyu remarks, and you hate that he’s right. 

You all almost broke up over Monopoly, once. You never played again. 

“Yeah, put that one away,” you agree, as you pull the door open.

Daeyoung greets you with a smile and a small bouquet of flowers - nothing too fancy, just a little something. You pay for them with a smile and a kiss, lifting onto your tiptoes to reach his lips.

“Awwww, so cute,” Jeonghan coos from across the apartment.

“Jeonghan,” you say sharply. “What did we talk about?”

Daeyoung feigns a pout. “You don’t think we’re cute?”

You slap at his arm playfully and step back to let him in. You head to the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers, listening as the men all exchange heys and how’ve you beens. 

You all settle for a variation of Rummy, sitting around the kitchen table with a smattering of snacks and drinks, chatting easily as you play.

At the end of the second hand, you ask, “Wait, what does that put me at?”

“Sixty-two,” Daeyoung says, just as Mingyu says, “Sixty-three.”

You look at them both blankly. You and numbers don’t vibe. 

Jeonghan looks at the little note on his phone where he was tallying scores. “Sixty-three,” he confirms.

“Whoops,” Daeyoung says apologetically. “I wasn’t trying to short you on points, sweetheart.”

All three of your roommates stiffen, and you feel your face heat. “No worries,” you say quickly, reaching to cut the deck for the next hand. “Whose turn is it?”

Be normal, be normal, be normal, you mentally beg the clowns. 

“I think it’s mine, sweetie-pie,” Jeonghan deadpans. You kick him ferociously under the table, not even trying to be subtle, and he swears.

“Knock it off,” you growl.

“You’re upsetting pookie, hyung,” Mingyu says somberly. 

“I hate all of you,” you whine. And then, on instinct, “Not you, Wonwoo.”

Daeyoung looks around the table, amused. “Is this always how it is around here?”

“Basically,” Wonwoo admits. “Just usually with a lot more -” He stops short, coughing, and reaches for his drink. You all wait, your heart thrumming nervously. You’re sure he’d been about to drop a crack about you and Mingyu’s physical affection. “A lot more yelling,” he finishes. “This is everyone on their best behavior, because Sunny threatened us.”

Daeyoung laughs, and you pray that the moment went unnoticed. You can tell Mingyu is a bit still on your other side, and if it was a month ago you would have reached over to him already, soothed a hand down his arm or pressed your cheek to his shoulder until he untensed. You rest your hands in your lap, instead, eyes on your cards.

After Rummy, which Jeonghan wins by a landslide, you all head to the couches for a movie.  Your roommates and you have always had unspoken “spots”, but Daeyoung’s presence throws the balance off entirely. Normally you’d be next to Mingyu but he takes Jeonghan’s spot, leaving the other guys to buffer as they try to figure out a new arrangement.

“Here,” Daeyoung says, tugging on your wrist until you settle on his lap, legs hanging just off the side of his own, “we can make room.”

Jeonghan tosses you a small blanket and a wink and settles in on the far side of your couch, giving the two of you lots of room. Wonwoo flicks off the overhead lights and settles next to Mingyu, the two of them awkwardly squished on the two-seater. But, blessedly, no one complains as the opening score emanates from the sound bar. 

As the movie begins, you relax, leaning sideways against Daeyoung’s chest, his arms looped around you. You stomp down on the intrusive thought that wants to compare how comfortable this is to how comfortable you’d been with Mingyu for past movie nights, internally hissing at your own brain for the unwelcome thought. 

“You good?” he murmurs, voice low, only for you, one hand rubbing the small of your back lightly.

“Mhm,” you assure him, reaching up to kiss the edge of his jaw, the only bit of him that you can reach comfortably. He smiles down at you, endeared, and then turns his attention to the television again. You can feel someone’s eyes on you, but you refuse to look, refuse to give attention to whoever is trying to heckle you right now. They can’t just let you live, huh?

Halfway through the movie, Mingyu stands, moving out of the way of the screen quickly and heading to the kitchen. You don’t lift your head from Daeyoung’s check, just watching him go through the corners of your eyes. 

“Anyone need a drink?” he calls from the kitchen. “Hyung? Sunny Baby?”

Daeyoung physically recoils, his head snapping back so he can look at you, wide-eyed. You look back at him the same way, feeling like you’ve been caught at something. 

“It’s just habit,” you say, quietly, and Jeonghan turns away, shifting awkwardly next to you two. “Old nickname from a million years ago.”

Daeyoung nods, but his face is still a bit stricken.

“Hello?” Mingyu calls from the kitchen. “Beer? Anyone?”

“No, thanks!” you call back, trying to force your voice to come out cheerful. 

When he returns, flopping unceremoniously into his spot next to Wonwoo, Daeyoung’s arms tighten around you. 

You close your eyes, frustrated. You hope you can salvage this. You’d been afraid from the jump that the Mingyu factor - even with the changes you’ve been purposely making, all that space - would damage what you have with Daeyoung, as effective as a drop of ink in a bucket of water. 

When the movie ends, Wonwoo gives a polite goodbye and vanishes into his lair and you lead Daeyoung back towards the front door. Behind you, you can hear the tell-tale clicks of bottles as Jeonghan and Mingyu start picking up the food and drinks. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, as soon as you have some semblance of privacy in the entryway. “I knew hanging out here was going to be a mess.”

Daeyoung manages a smile. “It wasn’t a mess,” he says. “I just didn’t realize how close you all were.”

He’s being too nice. You feel terrible. 

“I think we might get less close very soon if they can’t get their shit together,” you grumble, which makes him laugh, some of the tension alleviating. 

“Well,” Daeyoung says, suddenly turning conspiratory, “while your place was very fun… what would you say to some fun at my place now?”

You giggle. “I wouldn’t hate that plan,” you say coyly, smiling up at him. “Quieter, there. Fewer clowns.”

He laughs again, even as he reaches to tilt your jaw up, shuffling you backwards against the entryway wall as his lips find yours. 

As the kiss warms you, your hands finding the front of his shirt and bunching it into your fists, heat beginning to trickle out of hiding in your belly, you hear footsteps and an abrupt, “Oh - shit - sorry - my bad -”

“Your place,” you say against Daeyoung’s lips as Mingyu retreats back to the kitchen. You can practically feel through the wall how red his ears are. 

Daeyoung lets you out of his embrace and you hurry to your room to toss a few things together - toothbrush, phone charger, clothes - and come to get your jacket. 

“Bye, idiots!” you call through the apartment. Then, “Not you, Wonwoo!” and you close the door behind you with a giggle, following Daeyoung down the stairs.

On the other side of the wall, safely hidden in the kitchen, Mingyu stands staring blankly at the pantry, one hand over his mouth, still as a statue. What is this feeling churning in his gut? He feels sick, and he can’t put a name to it but he hates how it crawls through his system. 

Jeonghan appears next to him, placing two more dirty cups in the sink. He lets out a single, wry laugh when he sees Mingyu standing there.

“Yeah, dude,” he says easily as he leaves again. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

–

June

You and Mingyu lay side by side in the grass, a late spring night unfurling with distant thunder and a smattering of fireflies lazily drifting through the trees beyond the garden. His arm brushes yours and you can hear his breathing as he exhales slowly.

You feel happy - you feel infinite - you feel like one of those distant cracks of ferocious thunder. You feel like you could lay here next to him in silence and be happy until your joy has to burst from you, just like the clouds on the horizon. 

“Mingyu,” you say, turning to look at him. The grass tickles your cheek. 

He turns to look at you, too. It’s dark, here behind the university’s main hub, most of the lights on the far side of the building. Still, there’s enough light to see his eyes, steady on you, his gaze serious.

“Sunny Baby,” he responds, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret. “I love you.”

You wake up with faint tear-tracks on your cheeks, and you growl out a frustrated breath. 

“I need a lobotomy,” you grumble, wiping at your cheeks and trying to get comfortable again, hoping to go back to sleep - with less ridiculous dreams. 

It doesn’t happen. You flop from side to side over the course of half an hour, and then give up. You reach for your nightstand to see if you have any water, but there’s nothing but your phone and the lamp. With a sigh, you push yourself out from under the blankets and pad into the kitchen.

You’re letting a glass fill with tap water when you hear one of the other doors down the hallway open. You turn, peering through the moonlit living room, to see who else is up. The clock above the stove says it’s four in the morning.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu says, his voice rough with sleep. His hair is sticking up in the back. Your stomach lurches with the sick desire to smooth it down. “Why are you up?”

“Had a bad dream,” you lie. It was a good dream. Nothing bad about it until you wake up and feel guilty because of Daeyoung, and angry because your brain and heart are holding you fucking hostage. “Couldn’t get back to sleep.” That part’s true. 

“Poor Sunny Baby,” he croons, coming closer, the darkness making his form seem even bigger. “Come on - we’ll get comfy.” Just like we used to, he doesn’t say.

Your heart slams against your chest. “Oh,” you say softly. Because, yeah, a few months ago you wouldn’t have even needed him to invite you - you would have been there already, snuggling into the space next to his ribs, breathing him in until sleep returns to you. “Mingyu, I can’t.”

The blanket of darkness makes him bold. He scoffs, not even trying to hide it. “Why not? Because of that guy?” Like he doesn’t know Daeyoung’s name, like the last five months never happened. That guy. 

“Because I want to respect my relationship?” you correct gently. “Yes, that’s why. It wouldn’t be right, and you know it.”

You stand in silence for a moment, barely able to see each other across the darkened space, at an impasse. Then, he scoffs again, lighter this time. 

“Fine,” he says, moving past you towards the bathroom - probably the reason he was up in the first place. “Suit yourself.”

When he passes back through the living room on his way back to bed, you’re curled up on the couch under one of the blankets, the tv on with the sound turned low. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns down the hall and shuts his bedroom door behind him. You hear the lock click. You press your hands to your face and will yourself to breathe deep. Crying over him while asleep is one thing. Doing it while awake feels like a betrayal. 

Just one more you can add to your list.

–

“Hey!” you yell across the noisy room. Mingyu turns from where he’s standing near your bedroom door, talking to a few guys who you’ve seen around here but whose names you forget. Seok… something. The other one might be a Chan, you’re not sure. Mingyu lifts an eyebrow, waiting for whatever request you’re going to shout at him. 

“Can you get the door for me?” you call, trying to be louder than the music and chatter. Your apartment is bursting with people as Mingyu’s annual summer bash is well underway. You’re at the pong table - your kitchen table, shoved halfway into the living room - a slightly sticky plastic ball in hand. “Daeyoung is here, I can feel my phone going off.”

Mingyu gives you a wordless salute and shuffles off towards the front door, and you close one eye, lean forward as far as the others will let you without calling a foul, and line up your shot.

You sink it just seconds before you feel someone’s hands on your hips. You straighten up and turn to greet Daeyoung with a kiss, firm and confident courtesy of many drinks. The party’s been going for a few hours already, and you and the guys pregamed before the guests started showing up.

“Hi!” you chirp when you part. “Glad you made it!” 

“This is a lot of people,” he says back, looking around your living room and kitchen a bit incredulously. “You said you guys do this every year?”

You nod seriously. “We bribe our neighbors. I mean, they’re all invited of course, but we also try to do something nice to make up for the one night of noise. Last year I baked cookies. This year we just went straight to cash.”

He laughs, and you lead him through the throng of people into the kitchen for a drink. 

“I’m glad you came,” you say again, as he stands before the open fridge, scanning beer bottle labels for something palatable. He sends you a smile over his shoulder, then picks a bottle and turns. You place the opener into his waiting hand.

“You look good tonight,” he tells you, all glinty, looking at you sideways. You pretend to preen.

“Sunny always looks good,” Jeonghan asserts, breezing in behind you holding a bowl full of chips. 

“Are you sharing those?” you demand. “You can’t gatekeep the good ones, Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this.”

“Gatekeep, girlboss, whatever the third one is!” he replies, zipping back out of the kitchen as quickly as he’d come. 

Out in the living room, you hear the familiar sound of the karaoke machine booting up. There’s a telltale scraping - the pong table being shoved against the far wall to make more room for jumping around while aiming for that perfect score. 

When you and Daeyoung make it into the living room again, Mingyu and one of the friends whose names you forgot are singing together. Mingyu’s all irony, eyes closed in mock passion as he clutches his mic with both hands, but his friend is actually good, voice sailing over the higher notes without error.

“Wow,” you say. “That guy can actually sing.”

One of your friends, a girl you lovingly call Ethel because of the style of grandma glasses she favors, stops in front of you, pushing little plastic shot glasses into your hands.

“Are you the boyfriend?” she asks Daeyoung, somewhat breathlessly. “I’ve been dying to actually meet you. She’s been keeping you a secret.”

“I have not!” you reply hotly, as Daeyoung laughs, introducing himself. 

“It’s nice to meet her other friends,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. 

“I know, it’s hard to separate her from these guys,” she says. “They deserve a sitcom.”

“I’m standing right here,” you protest. 

Jeonghan appears behind you, too close. “We have a little problem in the kitchen,” he whispers.

You excuse yourself, leaving Daeyoung with Ethel - who will hopefully say nothing too incriminating about you and Mingyu’s blurry-lined friendship. 

In the kitchen, Wonwoo is kneeling on the floor, his upper body hidden in the cupboard under the sink. When he shuffles back out, the front of his shirt is wet. You can see a bit of water starting to pool on the boards below the cleaning supplies.

“Uh oh,” you say.

Mingyu appears to your left, solid and warm against your arm. Then he crouches, peering under the sink. 

“Can I have someone’s phone?” he asks, and you pass him yours. He turns on the flashlight and shines it at the pipes. You watch his face do that thing - that calculating look, the problem-solving look. 

“It’s this one,” he says, pointing to something you can’t see under there. “Where’s our toolbox?”

“Great question,” Wonwoo says, mouth twisting as he tries to remember. “Laundry room?”

“I think so,” you say. “I think it’s on the shelf in there.”

Mingyu scoots out from under the sink and disappears into the little nook you all graciously call a laundry room, since it does have a functional door, then reappears with two tools in hand. You don’t know what they are - you’ve never needed to.

You and Jeonghan and Wonwoo stand around him, worried, like you’re waiting for a doctor to emerge through hospital doors to report on the status of a loved one. When Mingyu backs out of the cabinet again, it’s with an air of smugness. 

“All set,” he says, one side of his mouth quirking proudly. 

“Our hero,” Jeonghan deadpans.

“This is why we keep you around,” you tell him.

“Get the man a shot,” Jeonghan says, swiveling to the collection of bottles on the counter. 

Daeyoung finds you on the kitchen floor, using a rag to wipe up any bits of water. Wonwoo and Mingyu both disappeared to change into dry shirts, you think. 

“Everything okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, wiping one last spot and leaning up on your knees to look around for any areas you might have missed. The last thing you need is for someone to slip in here. “The sink broke. It’s okay now, Mingyu fixed it.”

“Well, thank god for Mingyu,” he says, and you look up at him, not sure if you’re imagining the edge in his voice. Are you? Did you project that?

“Well,” you say, “kind of! Because four of us live here, and only one person could solve the problem.”

He laughs reluctantly. “I can fix a sink,” he says, a bit of a pout in his voice.

You stand, returning the rag to the counter. “I’ll make sure to ask you first next time,” you say, leaning up to brush your lips teasingly across his. “I just thought the rent-payer should handle the problem before the guests.”

“I guess that’s fair,” he allows, smiling bigger. 

A while later, you find yourself in Wonwoo’s room, leaning against the wall watching somewhat absently as he and one of his friends play a POV shooter game, their brows furrowed in concentration and fingers flying on the controls. 

Daeyoung had been with you only moments ago, reporting into your ear on the game’s happening like a sports commentator to make you laugh, but he’d gone to get you each a new drink. Mingyu appears in his absence, and you can tell immediately that he’s sloppy.

“Sunny Baby,” he sings, draping an arm over your shoulders. 

You can’t help but smile, even as you try to shift out from under his arm. “Yes?” you sing back teasingly. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “You can stay just like this.” He wraps his other arm around you, and you laugh, pushing very gently at his chest.

“Mingyu,” you protest, laughing. “Get off me.”

“I will in one second,” he says, smiling cheekily. “You haven’t let me hug you in a hundred years, I have to take advantage now that your defenses are weakened by cheap vodka.”

“Mingyu!” you laugh again. 

And then you see Daeyoung in the doorway behind him, face unreadable. 

“Mingyu,” you say again, deadly serious now. “Let go.” 

Daeyoung slowly reaches to put the two beers on Wonwoo’s dresser and turns, wordlessly retreating down the hallway.

“Damn it, Mingyu,” you hiss, extracting yourself and hurrying to follow him. Daeyoung makes it clear outside and down the front steps before you catch him.

“Daeyoung, wait!” you call, and he finally slows, turning to face you. You jog to catch up, a bit breathless. You’ve had way too much to drink for this kind of confrontation, but you try to get your shit together enough to defend yourself. Or apologize. Or both.

He doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows and waits.

“Don’t -” you start, and then switch tracks quickly. “That was nothing. He’s like that when he’s had too much to drink. He’s just being silly.”

Daeyoung laughs once, sharp and sarcastic. “Don’t lie to me,” he says flatly. 

“I’m not!” you protest. “It’s true.”

He shakes his head, swipes his thumb across his phone screen and taps around. 

“Don’t leave,” you beg. “I’m sorry. I was trying to tell him to let go.”

He twists his mouth, refusing to look at you. At the far end of the street, you can see approaching headlights. He’s ordered a ride home. 

“When you said you were trying to get over someone I didn't pry,” he says flatly, “but I guess I should have. You could’ve had the decency to tell me that you live with him.”

The slam of the car door feels final, the sound passing over you like shrapnel. 

The blink of red taillights has just vanished around the corner when strong arms wrap around you. Mingyu must have followed, must have been watching from the door, must have seen it happen. 

You’ve been trying to make space, you’ve been trying to stay away, but you’re buzzed and you’re sad and you’re weak. So, you turn in his arms, burying your face in his shirt and letting yourself cry. 

He holds you through it, doesn’t say anything to you, just holds on tight until you can breathe again. 

“I don’t want you to see this,” you sniffle finally, and he lets his arms drop, stepping back so he can look at you. “This shouldn’t be you.”

“That’s fair,” he murmurs, sounding much more sober than he had inside. “But I’m the one who’s here. Tell me you want me to go, and I will.”

Your heart cracks. 

“I don’t want you to go,” you whisper. 

“Okay,” he says, wrapping you up again, leaning his chin on the top of your head and swaying you a little bit. “Then I won’t.”

Eventually, you both lay in the grass. You don’t want to go inside, and Mingyu says he doesn’t want to leave you alone in the front yard. Instead, you lay side by side, far enough away that you’d have to stretch to touch. It feels like that night in undergrad, but also completely opposite. In your memories of that night, you felt warm and good like your place in the universe was guaranteed, your cog in the great machine fitting perfectly and spinning without difficulty. Tonight, you feel off, cold and angry, like your piece has been displaced and can’t fit anywhere anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu says, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to make problems for you guys.”

“I know you didn’t,” you allow. 

“It was just us being us,” he says, a bit defensively.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I think that was the problem.”

He has nothing to say to that. 

Daeyoung calls you, much later, when you’re back inside and tucked in your bed. 

“Were you sleeping?” he asks.

“Of course not,” you say. “I’m lying awake agonizing over you storming out on me.”

He laughs quietly, and you feel hope bloom behind your ribs. Is this salvageable?

“I might have overreacted,” he admits. “It’s easy to be intimidated by that guy.”

That guy again. What is it with these two? 

“You shouldn’t be,” you tell him. “He’s an idiot.”

Daeyoung laughs again. “So am I,” he says.

“You don’t need to worry about him,” you say. “I’ve been really trying to adjust the boundaries of our friendship, and it’s a big change from how we used to be. Usually we do better… Like I said earlier, he was drunk. He just forgot himself, went back to how things used to be.”

Daeyoung is quiet for a second. “I should have let you explain yourself before I left,” he says evenly.

“I’m sorry I put you in that position in the first place,” you counter. “I didn’t mean to. I’m in this with you, Daeyoung. I promise.”

“I know,” he admits. “I know you are.”

You smile into the phone. “Our first fight.”

He laughs again. “Hopefully not one of many.”

“Eh,” you say. “It’s normal. Anyway, I’m glad you called. I would have been a mess waiting to hear from you. Might have embarrassed myself blowing your phone up.”

“Maybe I should have let you embarrass yourself,” he teases. 

“It’s like that, huh?” you joke.

“Yes,” he sniffs. “Until I feel better.”

When you finally hang up, you creep through the apartment to pee before trying to sleep. You notice Mingyu’s light is on, though his door is shut. You pause, looking at that sliver of light, and then continue on back to your own bed. 

–

July

“Move over!” you giggle, using your hips to scoot Daeyoung out of your way, a wooden spoon in your hand. The simmering stew on the stovetop smells delectable, and you give it a stir, make sure nothing is stuck to the bottom of the pot. 

“Ask nicely!” he retorts, but he’s smiling. 

Mingyu watches the scene covertly from the couch, trying to keep his face neutral, trying to keep his face tilted towards the tv so he doesn’t get caught watching. Or worse, caught sulking.

You and Daeyoung eat and wash up most of what you used to cook, offer the leftovers to anyone around to hear you (so, just Mingyu), and then leave, giggles and flirting dissipating and leaving Mingyu in a quiet that he absolutely can’t stand. 

When you return the next day, trying to look nonchalant with your overnight bag clutched in your hands, Mingyu is at the kitchen table, eating some of the leftovers and watching videos on his phone. 

“Hey,” he greets you, pausing the video.

You give your overnight bag a light toss; it lands with a thump over near the couch. “Hey yourself,” you say, heading into the kitchen for a drink. “The food’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” he admits. “Your man can cook, huh?”

“Hey!” you object. “I did most of the work!”

“Hmm,” he says, rising and coming into the kitchen to rinse his plate. 

You cross your arms, eyes narrowing. “Hmmm what?”

He shrugs teasingly. “We’ve lived together a long time, Sunny. I have a hard time believing you’re the chef in that relationship. You never helped me cook anything.”

Your eyes narrow even more. “You never asked me to,” you retort, suddenly defensive. “There’s a lot of things I do with Daeyoung because you never asked me to.”

Silence falls on the kitchen like a rockslide. 

Mingyu takes one very careful step backwards. “Because I never asked you to?” he echoes, his voice shaking just slightly.

Your pulse races, and you fight a wave of nausea. A Freudian slip if there ever was one. 

“That you never asked me to,” you amend firmly.

Mingyu hesitates. Then, “I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

That defensiveness moves inside you like a thing alive, your temper flaring in an effort to protect you. 

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, suddenly pissed. 

Mingyu doesn’t rise to the bait, doesn’t match your temper at all. Calm and steady, he says, “So then you tell me. How do you feel, Sunny?”

That rockslide hits you. You can’t breathe, too bruised by the onslaught. All the years of secrets and feelings and broken rules and truths that you knew but pretended not to spill around you, impossible to escape.

“You don’t get to ask me that,” you hiss at him. “Not now. That’s not fair.”

His calm cracks, just slightly, his tone going hard. “What are you talking about?”

“Why now, Mingyu?” you demand. “Why now, when I have someone? Why not any of the years before now, when I was only yours?” 

You’re breathing hard, having spat the words like they’re venom, and you wait him out. He blusters, splutters, has nothing to say to this.

Your temper pulls you like a wave, a momentum you can’t fight.

“You don’t know the answer?” you ask sarcastically. “That’s fine - I can tell you: because you had me. You had me, and you didn’t need to share me, and you could still do whatever - or whoever! - you wanted and I’d still fucking be here afterward.”

You know exactly the moment you start crying through the words, because Mingyu’s body jolts, like he instinctively moved to touch you but remembered to stay back.

“And now?” you continue, because you’re on a roll, everything you’ve held in for years finally bursting from you with the fury of a cracked dam. “Now that’s changed. So, what is it? You want your toy back now that someone else is playing with it?”

“Of course not-”

“Fuck you, Mingyu! You sat me on the shelf for too long. I don’t deserve that.”

“Sunny, no,” he tries again. “It isn’t like that. I lo-”

“Yes, it is!” you shout. You’ve never shouted at him in your life, and it actually shuts him up. Tears are still streaming down your face, but you ignore them. “It is, and until you see that, I can’t expect you to change it or fix it.”

You start to storm past him, but you whirl on him, a finger pointed in his direction. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you love me!” you add furiously. “No you don’t. Not the right way, not like this.”

And then you slam out of the apartment, barely remembering to grab your keys off the hook as you go.

��

[5:22pm] You: if i send you a list of what i need, can you please put a bag together for me and leave it in the hall

[5:22pm] (jeong)Han Solo: :( sunny

[5:22pm] You: hannie please??? i can’t go inside. i really can’t.

[5:23pm] (jeong)Han Solo: he’s a fucking wreck 

[5:23pm] You: i don’t care

[5:24pm] You: i mean of course i fucking care that’s the whole problem

[5:24pm] You: please? my things?

–

August

August 3

[10:02am] Mingyu: sunny please talk to me

[12:17pm] Mingyu: please let me apologize to you

[12:17pm] Mingyu: i dont want to do it over text but you wont answer my calls and no one seems to know where you are

[12:22pm] Mingyu: you were right. about all of it.

[12:22pm] Mingyu: and you were right that you dont deserve it

[12:22pm] Mingyu: please call me back or come home so i can say this to your face

[5:38pm] Mingyu: there’s one part you were wrong about

[5:38pm] Mingyu: i do love you. the right way. maybe it took losing you to someone to get my ass moving but i loved you way before he was in the picture

[5:38pm] Mingyu: dont ever question that again

[11:04pm] Mingyu: god, sunny, answer your phone!

August 4

[7:43am] Mingyu: you’re killing me

[7:43am] Mingyu: are you happy sunshine???? KILLING ME!!!

[1:36pm] Mingyu: come home

[1:36pm] Mingyu: please

[8:02pm] Mingyu: we HAVE to talk about this, sunny

[11:51pm] Mingyu: i’m not going to give up

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: are you staying with daeyoung for a while?

[10:23am] You: no. my mom’s. 

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: ok. im glad you’re with someone who can care for you.

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: we miss you :(

August 5

[8:00am] Mingyu: fine, i’ll say everything over text like an asshole

[8:00am] Mingyu: just know you made me do this!

[8:04am] Mingyu: i fell in love with you in undergrad when you had to take that statistics class that you almost failed. when you saw your midterm score was passing you told me i love you for the first time and i swear to god i almost proposed to you right there. And it never went away. It was never less.

[8:08am] Mingyu: i love you because you wield your attitude like both sword and shield. I love you because you can barely count but you make me feel so stupid sometimes with how clever you are. I love you because you’re beautiful and funny and empathetic and you make me want to be better than i am. I want to be more competent for you, to be able to take care of you and provide for you when you need it. I love you because when i’m sick you take care of me and you let me take care of you when you’re down too. I love you because when i’m with you i feel like someone’s GOT me, someone understands me and has my back. 

[8:09am] Mingyu: i cant believe youre making me say this all in TEXT i hate this!

[8:10am] Mingyu: i have more. I have a hundred more reasons. 

[8:10am] Mingyu: come home so i can tell you

[11:58pm] Mingyu: goodnight sunny baby. Please come home soon.

You show up to Daeyoung’s unannounced. His face is grim when he opens the door; you haven’t answered his calls or texts in a few days, either. He probably knows what this is. 

“Hi,” he says, stepping backwards to make room for you in his doorway. “This is a surprise.”

“I’m sorry I vanished,” you tell him. “Something happened. I’ve been at my mom’s.”

He eyes you warily, like he’s not sure if this is a I got in a car accident kind of something, or a I cheated on you kind of something, and he doesn’t want to react for the wrong one. “Okay…” he says slowly.

“Daeyoung,” you say, after taking a breath to steel yourself, “I care about you, and I like you, and I have real feelings for you.” 

“I sense a but,” he says dryly. 

You smile sadly. “But I dont think this is fair to you. I shouldn’t be with someone - anyone - until I’m over him or he’s out of my life… and I can’t seem to make either of those things happen.” You don’t need to say which him. You both know. “I wanted to. I wanted to do it right and I thought I was… but I was wrong.” 

He shrugs, face blank. “Okay.” 

“Daeyoung.” 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks, frustration seeping into his tone. “I can't argue with any of that. I can’t change it for you. I can’t be better than him, I can't become him. You’re right, you shouldn’t be with someone else if what you really want is that guy.”

That guy. Again.

“You’re right,” you whisper, looking at your feet.

He lets out a breath. “So, it’s done then?”

You nod miserably. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Daeyoung. I hope someday you can believe that this isn’t how I wanted it to go. You deserve better.”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t let you go out with any optimism. You and your misery trudge back to your mother’s, fall asleep in your childhood bed.

August 6

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: i have more things to say today

[8:00am] Mingyu: i will give you two 2️⃣ minutes to respond or you get it all thru text AGAIN

[8:00am] Mingyu: and you know how i feel about that.

[8:03am] Mingyu: fine.

[8:03am] Mingyu: you’ve always been so fucking stubborn sunny. just let me apologize to you!

[8:05am] Mingyu: i’m sorry i kept you on hold

[8:05am] Mingyu: you’re right. that’s what was happening. but i didn’t MEAN it like that.

[8:05am] Mingyu: idk if you believe me bc i can’t see your face 🙄

[8:06am] Mingyu: but its true. I just… liked how things were. Youre right… i counted on you always being there waiting for me. 

[8:06am] Mingyu: i thought it was okay though… i thought if you wanted it to change you had the power to change it

[8:07am] Mingyu: like, you could have said something to me.

[8:07am] Mingyu: and i dont mean that like its your fault or anything, it was just how i rationalized it to myself. Like if you werent complaining then it must be fine?

[8:09am] Mingyu: i’m an idiot

[8:14am] Mingyu: but i’m an idiot who loves you, and misses you, and wants to do better

[11:59pm] Mingyu: please come home

[12:32pm] You: i broke up with him.

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: are you okay???

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: come home so we can take care of you!!

[12:58pm] You: i cant face him. not yet. im not ready

August 7

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: i’m sorry i took you for granted. even if we walk out of this only trying to repair the friendship, i swear i’ll never let it happen again.

[11:58pm] Mingyu: goodnight sunshine. I love you.

August 8

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: dont work too hard today

[8:00am] Mingyu: dont take any shit from marcus in accounting

[12:12pm] Mingyu: having lunch. call me if you want? it doesnt have to be heavy. Just hello.

[12:39pm] Mingyu: i need you back sunny. in whatever capacity youll let me have.

[11:57pm] Mingyu: hope you had a good day. Goodnight, i love you.

August 9

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny

[11:58pm] Mingyu: please. Please come home.

–

When you return home, a week after you left, it’s nearly dawn, the light from outside the living room just turning blue enough that you can see the outlines of the couches as you close the door as quietly as you can.

You step lightly, avoiding the spots you know will creak and groan when you step over them. You peer down the hallway to see that the guys’ doors are all shut, no lights on - not even the blues of Wonwoo’s computer monitor. 

You open your door and look around; your room looks exactly how you left it, down to the glass of water on the nightstand, now nearly empty. Except… the blankets on the bed are wrong. You set your bag down gently next to your dresser and creep closer, squinting through the dimly lit room.

A dark head of hair peeks out from under your comforter.

You can’t help it - you smile to yourself. For all the things Mingyu is - intelligent, funny, athletic, competent - he’s also a big baby. And he’s sleeping in your bed, because he misses you, and it comforts him.

It makes you want to forgive him for every wrong, press your lips to his sleepy forehead, listen to him lisp out Sunny Baby. 

He hurt you, it’s true. But you believe it that he was lying to himself, pretending things were fine. Weren’t you doing the exact same thing? You can’t hope Daeyoung will forgive you for your mistakes if you aren’t willing to do the same, too. 

You close your bedroom door and approach your bed. Mingyu stirs, making cricket legs under the blanket and stretching one arm towards the empty side. Towards you, though he doesn’t know it yet.

Then he freezes. His voice comes out paper thin. “Sunny?” he asks, pushing himself to sitting.

“This is not your bed,” you tell him, and he launches himself across the mattress, scrambling to reach you.

You allow him to wrap his gangly arms around your middle, pulling you to him as apologies pour over his lips so fast that he’s nearly babbling.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pushing at his shoulders. You back away and he follows like he’s tethered to you, clambering from the bed and standing before you.

For a moment, you just stare at each other through the thick blue of encroaching dawn.

And then he says your name.

Not Sunny. Not Sunny Baby. Your real name.

“I am so sorry - for everything,” he says, the ache in his voice clear and open. Then he drops his voice to a pained whisper. “Please. Tell me I can fix it.”

You press your lips together, looking at him. He looks awful - like he hasn’t slept much, or been eating well. You feel a little bad that you stayed away for so long, but you’d needed the time by yourself. You’d needed the clarity of being alone to figure out what you want.

“I think we can,” you whisper back, since the rest of the apartment is still sleeping. We, because this was on both of you. 

He crushes you in a hug, surrounding you in the smell of cinnamon, his cheek pressed to your head. “I’m sorry,” he breathes into your hair. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please let me try and do better.”

“I broke up with Daeyoung,” you respond, and he snaps his mouth shut, stepping backwards to stare at you. 

“Why?” he asks finally, hoarse, like he can barely get the word out. 

You look up at him. “Because it wasn’t right to be with him. It wasn’t right to be with him when I’ve been in love with someone else the whole time.”

He closes his eyes, his whole body seeming to sag. 

“I forgive you,” you say quietly, “and I do believe that things will be better now. If we talk about it - if we’re working together to make it better.”

“Yes,” he says quickly, desperately. “I will - I’ll do whatever I need to -”

“Both of us,” you say again, emphatically. “You were right, this wasn’t just your fault. I let this go on for… years. I counted marks against you but I never once spoke up.”

“No,” he protests, shaking his head. “It was my fault, Sunny, I took it for granted and I should have been loving you, spoiling you -”

You laugh. “I mean, maybe,” you say. “But if I’d talked to you… maybe you would have been.”

“I want to now,” he says. “Can I? Will you let me?”

You smile up at him, and he grins back, taking your smile as an answer.

You reach up and touch his eye-tooth gently with a fingertip. “Your stupid fang is so fucking cute,” you whisper. “It is truly unfair how cute it is.”

He pretends to scowl at you. “We’re having a serious moment, here, Sunshine.”

You smile again, gentler this time. “I love you,” you tell him. “If you want to prove you can do this right… then I’m all in.”

He whispers your name again, then looks at you.

His eyes are molten again, the way they were the night you’d had your only kiss. It’s almost hypnotizing, the strength of his gaze on you, pulling you in wordlessly until your body is flush with his. You look up at him, breathless. 

“I’ll start proving it now,” he murmurs, so low you barely catch it, and then his mouth snags on yours, forceful, his hands cupping your jaw gently, a juxtaposition.

He touches you so tenderly, his fingers feather-light against the skin they uncover as you undress each other in hushed silence. It feels holy, somehow. 

He licks spices and heat into your mouth, trails calloused fingers down your bare arms, pulls your hips into his as his teeth trace down your jaw, makes sure you feel his want for you.

You slide your hands from his waist up his stomach and over his pecs, revelling in how he hisses and leans into the touch. 

“Wanted to do this for years,” he grumbles, like he’s complaining, before lowering his lips to your chest, sucking on supple skin to see how you like it, then doing it harder when you dig your fingers into his shoulders, gasping at the sensation.

“Should’ve,” you scold, even as your eyes close and your head tilts back. “Could’ve been.”

But you aren’t thinking about your wasted time when he kneads both hands in the meat of your ass, or when you slide a flat palm up the length of him, delighting in the weight and heat you find straining against his Calvins. You’re thinking about how his hands are searing, about how you want to taste him but maybe not yet, not this first time. You’re thinking about his fingers sliding between your legs and the belly-deep rumble he makes when he feels how ready you are for him.

And when you finally come together, his mouth pressed to yours as he lays you back on the bed you’ve shared countless times, you’re only thinking about him and his beautiful smile and molten eyes and infectious laugh and empathetic heart. When he’s pushed as far into you as your bodies will allow, his hips tight against you and a whine slipping between his lips, you’re overcome with emotion. As you adjust to him, his eyes trace your face, and he reads what’s there with perfect clarity.

“Love you, Sunny Baby,” he whispers into the crook of your neck. 

You swallow against the thick rise of feelings and run your fingers through his hair. “Move for me,” you beg. And when he does, it’s just as perfect as the rest of him. 

You press your forehead to his when you come, his thumb rough on your clit and his mouth gasping broken breaths against your lips, pulsing around him in waves so dizzying you think they trigger even more. His hair sticks to his forehead as he presses deep inside you, and he shelters you between mountainous arms as he finally lets go.

Mingyu is sunrise, leaking orange and pink and yellow and white and chasing away a world of purples and blues. He’s so bright you have to squint, a promise of a fresh start, an end to the darkness of night. 

He’s perfect. He’s perfect, and you love him, and finally you can have him. 

You lay in his arms, heartbeat slowing bit by bit, and feel wholly at peace - like everything finally settled into place, everything landed exactly as it was meant to. Your cog in the universe, spinning correctly at last, grooves fitted perfectly to Kim Mingyu’s. 

The peace lasts…. until you check your phone. 

[8:26am] (jeong)Han Solo: when you two are DONE…. we went out for breakfast if you want to join 🙄

—

November

“Baby,” Mingyu says, but it’s stern. “Quit fixing the pillows.”

“It has to be perfect in here!” you whine. 

Mingyu wraps his arms around you like a cage, squeezing until you’re laughing too hard and drop the throw pillow from your hand.

“They lived with us for years,” he says, entirely too rationally. “You can’t fool them.” 

He releases his hold on you so you can turn and pout at him. You’re about to protest - argue that it’s Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s first time visiting you and Mingyu’s new place, that this is momentous, a special occasion - but you’re cut off by an obnoxiously outlandish knock on the front door. 

“I’ve got it,” Mingyu tells you. “You just try to relax.” 

You will, in just a second. But first, you lean over to the candle you have burning on the coffee table and adjust it just slightly to center the label, which reads Fall Harvest and Cinnamon.

--

thank you so much for reading!!!!

[maelancoli]

i cannot stress enough how important it is to write at your own pace. to give your mind and spirit room to breathe, to process your creativity and allow it to come organically to you. goals and discipline are a good and necessary part of any hobby, especially writing, but so is rest. rest prevents burn out. and if you push yourself until you burn out you will wind up taking even longer to complete projects or meet goals. even if you are already burnt out that's okay. this is your sign to give yourself the grace to take breaks. your story, your muses, your brilliant ideas will be waiting for you to pick them up with proper enthusiasm when you're ready.

[spacedlexi]

tlou CRIT/NEG this is abt the new ep and how theyve been treating ellie since pt2 and i cant take it anymore. ellie get behind me

"you have a violent heart" "the only person who can save ellie is ellie. how? Violence." BARF BARF BARF BLEGH AUGH UGH SHUT UP SHUT UP DIES i hate what theyve done to my girl 😭😭

i dont like that they took joel out of That scene.....joel pulling her out of that moment and holding her...them Finally connecting completely...that silence as everything fades away...compared to her having to get up and walk out on her own and basically bump into him... thats so mean to ellie honestly for what 😭 to double down on her "violence" apparently im eating glass (guys is it "violent" to kill someone in self defense?)

plus idk joel being the one to physically pull her away from over-killing david and bringing her back to the moment and reassuring her shes ok...like idk maybe that couldve been Something when in pt2 she goes on a rampage without him. but idk i guess that would go against the whole thing theyve been doing since pt2 where they try to make joel out like a complete corrupting force on ellie (i learned it from YOU, DAD) 🙄 but now in the show theyre doubling down and making ellie more "violent" than she was in the game I HATE IT I HATE IT STOP IT STOP IT SHES ALREADY DEAD

i hate saying anything negative about this franchise at this point because people do not take it well but im just so sad about how theyve decided to treat her. like SORRRYY but ellie was SO important to teenage me..she deserves better. and if i have to hear them say "violence" one more time 😐........

[nyxire]

the compulsive urge to open google docs and spend the rest of your day writing on a half finished story that you haven't touched in 2 years when you have a million other things to be doing

[acid-ixx]

brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

[tbaluver]

omg hi hi i luv ur writing, could u maybe do some hcs for the l&ds men when they want u to sit on their face (fem reader perchance) 🥰 i imagine the reader would be a bit worried about hurting or suffocating them but they just rlly want to make u feel soo good. Thanks & have a lovely dayy!

Sitting On Their Face- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: 18+, suggestive content, filthy filthy smut, MDNI, riding their faces, getting eaten out a/n: hihi anonnie! when i read this req i was thinking of that one steve harvey video so whenever i wrote a scenario for each character i was like YESSSS SIT ON IT pls tell me someone gets the reference 😭 anyway thank you so much! i hope this was okay and that you enjoy ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

"Please. Let me take care of you." You look down and you meet his eyes. His gaze on you softening accompanied by a tender smile that never failed to bring you comfort. He rubbed soothing small circles on the back of your thigh to reassure you that you would never cause any harm on him from this position.

With motivation from his large hands on your hips, tentatively you began to lower yourself, feeling his nose against your folds. His tongue movements start off slow and sensual. His tongue moving at a dragging pace while his hands are slowly stroking your thigh.

Your body seems to relax more once you roll your hips, he didn't waste time in licking up your entire cunt. His pace changing as if he needed more of you. His tongue delving between your lips and tasting the sweet and delicious juices he has always been craving for. You lower yourself further on to his face, putting more pressure on his mouth.

Dragging your hips up and down as he stayed in his place while his nose bumped onto your clit and his tongue moved perfectly with every thrust. You panted out loud and hard, losing your breath every time your hips made movement. You kept on moaning and whining, feeling the pit in your stomach getting closer and closer.

It hits you, the waves of euphoria that caused your body to jolt and cunt to contract in pulses. His name leaving your mouth in broken chants, softly spoken in ecstasy. Trying to catch your breath, you sat lightly on his chest to catch sight of Xavier's face.

He looked more fucked out than you and you can see your arousal dripping to his lips to his chin. He licks his lips as he pulls you back to your position, "I didn't get enough, let's do it again."

Zayne:

It's not like he hasn't eaten your pussy out before, he's very familiar in that department. If you were getting seconds thoughts because you were worried you might suffocate him but he would grip your thighs tighter to keep you in place. He would encourage you to put your whole weight onto his face, he does not care what size you are. He wants to be smothered in between your thighs.

"Stay still my love. You won't hurt me." His gaze softens below you, peppering small kisses on your inner thigh to make you relax. "Good girl, lower yourself." He inhales deeply, and exhaled out with a groan. "You smell heavenly. I can't wait to taste you."

He latches onto your pussy and the sight below you was enough to leave you breathless. He was holding onto your thighs with his cold hands, licking and sucking as if a man was starved.

You couldn't manage to say anything else than chanting out his names in moans. Your mind was dazed with pleasure from the way he made you feel. Tasting your sweet juices as he traces the tip of his tongue around your hole. Your pussy twitches as he went deeper inside of you and the pleasure was immeasurable and you wanted more.

You pushed him further into you, lapping up every part of your walls he could. You grip the headboard, leaning forward a little as he continued his mouth work on you. The way he slurped and smacked his tongue as he ate you out sounded as if he was feasting on your sweet pussy.

He continues to fuck you with his tongue, taking up all your juices with each stroke of his tongue. He continues to hold you tightly down on top of you, sucking on your labia as if it was his last meal. You were so close, heat pooling up inside of you. Your body jolts up as your orgasm washes over you and without even realizing it you pushed his face further into your cunt, riding out your orgasm out as you rolled your hips against his face.

"Taste just like heaven." He whispers, kissing the inside of one of your thighs.

Rafayel:

He doesn't mind whatever position you do. As long as his mouth will be on or in you the entire time. If you were worried about you suffocating him, he's quick to brush off that idea. "Puh-lease cutie, you think I'd care about that? I thought you knew me better." He teased, but he was also telling the truth. He doesn't care if you suffocate him. What's a better way to die than drowning in your pussy?

He immediately grabs your thighs and pulls you down to his lips, waves of your arousal washing down on him. He'll burry his nose in your pretty cunt while his tongue gushes with your sweet juices. He'll lock eyes with you, his eyes filled with lust and arousal.

His mouth and tongue feels so good, your fingers tightly lock around his hair while the other hand gripping the headboard. You start to grind your hips harder against him.

You moaned as throwing your head back when sucks on your clit, your legs trembling around his head. You can tell he was enjoying this too from the whimpers he made below you and was sending vibrations to your core.

He keeps a firm grip on your hips, holding you in place as he explores your pussy with his tongue. His continues to thrust in and out of you at a faster pace while his continued to rub against you.

You could feel the heat building up to your body as the pleasure courses through your veins. His mouth did wonders to you and you needed more to meet that sweet release. You grind your hips harder against his face, the knot in the pit of your stomach getting tighter and tighter with each movement of your hips.

He watches in between your thighs as you shut your eyes close from the pleasure. His name leaving your lips in broken pants as you cream all over his face, your legs trembling from intensity of the orgasm. He takes in all of your sweet juices till there's none left.

Sylus:

He has been gladly to go down on you for hours at any time you want. Although he was never pressuring you on doing anything. He was just open to the idea if you were up to it. But oh boy when you were, this man was eager to get down to business.

He'd let out that rich man laugh and flash you a knowing smirk when you were concerned about him getting hurt. It was adorable to him that you think you could do such a thing but he reassured you. "Come on down. Let me make you feel good." He says with his voice thick with lust as he drags his thumbs up your inner thigh as they found their way to your outer lips to spread them open gently.

You bit your lip to suppress that whine begging to leave you as Sylus teases you with thumbs, moving them along your folds lightly before massaging slow circles into your clit. You couldn't take anymore of it and began to lower yourself down on his face. As you slowly let more of your weight fall on him, your legs were shaky as you felt the first swirls of his tongue around your pussy. He took his time exploring you from this angle. Loud wet sounds coming out and you couldn't help but move a little, grinding against his tongue and mouth altogether.

He licked thick stripes along the length of your sex with the flat of his tongue. Eating you out was nothing new to him. He would thrust his tongue into your dripping hole and eventually started to groan against you as he devours your cunt greedily.

He knew your body like the back of his hand. One of his hands slowly snakes up to you from your hips to play with your naked breasts, rolling your nipples to get you to make more nose. He continues to go faster and deeper as he could. Sucking harder on your clit as you hold onto the headboard for support as you try to find your sweet release.

You threw your head back and touched your breasts while focusing on the way his mouth felt on you and all of it was together was heavenly. Biting your lip, you clenched your thighs a little as you felt your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, the pressure growing bigger with every movement of your hips. As you let go of the grip you had on the headboard and lurched forward with both of your hands pressed on the mattress as you panted and rocked your hips needily against his moans. Shaky moans slipping through your own lips one after another as you ride out your high. With a skillful mouth, he drinks up all of your juices as you soaked his mouth and chin. "What do you say we do another?"

[r0semaryt3a]

Loved your dating hc's!!! They all felt really convincing and in character 💕💕 How do you think the pt (preferably chrollo, uvo, phinks and feitan if thats too many) sleep next to u?? are they cuddlers, kickers, white noise users, midnight bathroom breakers, snorers or whatever else?

Ahhh glad to hear it!! I’ve only really wrote a lot about Chrollo so I was worried the others were OOC-

I’ve only really been thinking of writing for Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks, Shalnark, Machi and Paku but given as you asked for Uvo I’ll add another onto that list! (Small spoiler warning: I love the troupe, but they’re all messy sleepers and I won’t be convinced otherwise!)

Chrollo

He definitely has a night mask, incense and all that to help him doze off. Chrollo is a chronic suffer of predormitional insomnia: his mind runs a million a minute, man is NOT used to sleeping a healthy 8hrs.

You can guarantee if Chrollo falls asleep before you (a very rare event) you’ll find him stiff as a log. He falls asleep in whatever position he’s in and will stay there until he wakes up. Honestly, it’s a wonder he isn’t ridden with all sorts of issues (get him a chiropractor one day.)

On the other 364 days a year when he falls asleep after you, well aren’t you just the perfect little teddy bear! His arms are always wrapped around you tightly.

If you happen to be a light sleeper? You’ll definitely wake up in the middle of the night to his face buried into the crook of your neck; fingers tapping away at your abdomen as his breathing settles, the smell of lavender drowning out any other senses. So definitely a cuddler. (I will die on this hill)

Sometimes he might even pepper your neck with kisses if he notices you’re awake.

If you’re a heavier sleeper? You better get used to waking up in the morning under a vice like grip, a mat of black hair brushing against your cheek and -whether he’s awake or not- you’re not getting out of it

Big spooner, you could be twice the height of him and he’d still demand it.

Not much of a snorer, maybe the few light hitches here and there but overall he’s sound asleep.

Most nights when Chrollo can’t sleep, he’ll sit up with a book in one hand and his other arm wrapped around your sleeping form. Sometimes he’ll doze off and sometimes he’ll only be brought away from his book by your stirring.

On particularly bad nights, where his insomnia truly flairs up, you’ll have to listen to a plethora of podcasts or “soothing sounds” for him to actually sleep. And yes, you’ll have to listen to them. There’s something innately intimate about having you indulge him in his interests: makes it far easier to sleep.

Feitan

You cannot tell if this man is awake or asleep 9/10.

“You sleep. I watch.” Kind of deal, he has many things to preoccupy himself with: like watching you! (In a: ‘someone takes even one step in this general direction, you’ll have a lullaby of screaming to doze off to’ kind of way)

It’s not that he can’t sleep, it’s that he doesn’t want to. Feitan sees sleep as a waste of time, it bleeds days into days and he could be spending that time well, instead of sleeping.

Everytime he wakes up he mentally kicks himself for having made such a waste of time

That’s where you come in! Hope you’re willing to have a human sized cat latched onto you every single night! Big spoon, little spoon, doesn’t matter to him: you’ll wind up with him clinging onto you for dear life regardless.

Despite this fact however, you’ll never know the plethora of times he wakes up in the middle of the night, painstakingly, detaches himself from you and paces around the room feverishly. Muttering about who knows what, head flicking to every angle at even the minutest of sounds. Feitan doesn’t like not being alert: loathes it, so this is his way to regulate the nerves that rest often brings.

Feitan is a very light sleeper, any slight movement may set him off and cause him to completely switch back on (sleep maintenance insomnia hits him hard).

He doesn’t strike me as a snorer but definitely isn’t quiet, sounds like a Guinea pig sometimes. A total teeth chatterer. Seriously, you’ll wake up and hear a light ‘Tch Tch Tch’ from wherever the hell he’s grabbing onto you tonight.

Will not ever wake up in the same position he falls asleep in (not that you’ll ever know that fact, he’s always looking over you long before you’re awake.)

Trust me: you’ll know if Feitan has a bad dream. His claws (yes claws) will be digging into you, his hold on you tightening with a particularly sharp ‘hiss’ of his teeth.

Likelihood is: his sleeping patterns will leave more marks on you than any other activities ever will. But, don’t worry! It shows he cares (I think?).

Phinks

Kicker, oh he is a real kicker.

You’ll wind up waking up off the bed more times than you will on it.

On and off cuddler, there’s very few times that you’ll fall asleep cuddling but by god is it a wild guess as to whether you’ll wake up doing so.

Phinks will fall asleep with his back towards you, teetering off the edge of the bed. And, In the matter of minutes can have one leg half way across the bed, the other swung over the edge, left hand across his face, right on his chest, mouth slack and whole body at a 45* angle.

Other times, you’ll find a knee digging into your back as he’s (very awkwardly) cuddling you from behind.

Surprising the masses (not): he snores. Has a whole box of nose strips to stop this.

Despite all of these, interesting, idiosyncrasies. The few times you fall asleep cuddling: he’s an entirely different sleeper. It’s like he takes a page out of Chrollo’s book and doesn’t move an inch (aside from rolling, he’s a total roller).

The snoring won’t stop though.

Doesn’t need anything to help him sleep, his head hits the pillow and he’s out like a light. Real heavy sleeper as well, you could roll him off the bed with an almighty thud and he’d still be sound sleep. It’s actually fairly endearing.

Will sleep for 6 hours, wake up for 1, roll around for a bit, settle down and then sleep for another 2.

Best pray you’re a heavy sleeper: that’s all the advice I can give you.

Honestly? It’s like sleeping next to a bear, vaguely adorable as much as it has you fearing for you life (and place on the bed).

Uvogin

If Phinks is like sleeping next to a bear, Uvo is a bear hug.

You’ll find your place settled neatly against his chest, as if he’s one of those comically large backpacks (like Johnny’s from Hotel Transylvania). Don’t worry about anything, truly, you’ll be snug as a bug in a hug.

Surprisingly, not a snorer (when sober at least). Often needs noises to fall asleep to though. If there’s not calamity afoot then Uvo tends to get angsty; you may have to deal with the occasional outburst.

So, you often have loud games or shows blaring in the background as he rests his chin on your head. Uvo doesn’t fall asleep easily, meaning there’s very few times that you can turn the noise off before you head to sleep yourself. You best get used to sleeping to the volume of a rock concert! (with his constant screeching he blew his own ear drums)

Invest in earbuds of some kind, it’ll help the both of you.

The LOUDEST snorer when drunk. I mean LOUDEST. Cotton buds line your bathroom cupboards for whenever he drinks, you’ll have to pick out bits of cotton on particularly bad nights.

Absolute hoarder. Whether it be you, a pillow, the duvet, he’ll have it and he isn’t letting it go. It’s honestly quite comforting, his presence isn’t exactly small, so with this hoarding comes a sense of security.

He’s surprisingly gentle as well, it doesn’t feel infantilising, more like you’re something from a heist that he doesn’t want to break.

Can fall asleep anywhere there’s noise. It’s a skill, you’ll find him contorted in a corner just so long as the TV’s humming in the background. Don’t think of moving him, you won’t.

Probably takes a good few trips to the loo during the night. Which, unfortunately for you, given your nightly position: leads to you being woken up every time he does.

Shalnark

Not a fan of cuddles, like at all. Shalnark is quite the squisher when you’re both up and about or even just lounging on the covers, but when it comes to sleeping? He’ll do it, sure, but he won’t be too thrilled most nights. There’s the odd time that he’ll be uncharacteristically for the idea, pulling you close and running off a mile a minute! He doesn’t tend to actually sleep those nights, more ramble on like you’re at some two person sleepover; the sentiment’s there nonetheless.

Despite this fact, he’s very specific with having at least something pressed up against his back -little spooner- and will get agitated if this requirement isn’t met.

Podcasts, lots of podcasts. Shalnark has about ten to twenty playlists that he’ll be sat scrolling through: trying to find the one he wants to sleep to. You’ll never be privy to these of course, he tends to keep a pair of headphones shoved in some drawer.

Oftentimes, before even attempting to sleep, he’ll be scrolling through some forum or busy doing: something. Though, for some reason you don’t remember any of his chronic scrolling…

Bathroom breaker, it’s nothing annoying but you’ll never not notice the shift in weight, as he swings his legs off the bed and heads to the bathroom. He’s always careful not to make too much noise, which winds up causing more in the process.

Has a small assortment of glasses of water that will accumulate through the week, all filled to different volumes. He swears he’ll drink them! He never does. It just ticks that little box of ‘just incase’ and he can’t sleep without it. Same with most other amenities.

Late sleeper, this man will never be up before you. That may be attributed to the fact he never falls asleep before you, but who’s to say!

Machi

The fact you don’t have single beds is both a gift to thank her for and a curse. Machi is a sleep tosser; she tosses a lot.

You tend to sleep on opposite ends of the bed. This is both in part to her overall distaste of sleeping together and the kicking. Oh boy, the kicking.

You know how the immune system can sometimes misinterpret things as threats, causing autoimmune reactions? That Machi when asleep. It’s like a subconscious instinct, a defence mechanism is you will; it’s certainly a good one! It’s just, not always needed. Especially not when you wake up at 4:34am after a particularly sharp jab at your side.

Though, some nights she’s stiff as a board! Not one movement or peep. As if death herself had stole Machi away.

She’s not a particularly picky sleeper, Machi can rest to almost anything. However, there is one thing that seems to expedite the process. Fire - whether the simple crackling singing off in the distance, or the chocking scent of smoke pervading the air. It seems to calm Machi, there’s no foreseeable reason for it. She just, likes fire.

L i g h t sleeper, you can’t count the amount of times she’s jolted awake, swearing she heard something. Windows, doors and anything else that might throw the room into disarray or stir up noise are a must close.

Sleep mutterer. It’s a rare occurrence, but Machi will sometimes have whole conversations with the air. You’re usually both asleep when these conversations take place (there was once that you overheard one to its completion. You’ll never tell her of course).

Pakunoda

Incense galore.

Seriously it’s everywhere.

Pakunoda needs some form of soft scent to lull her to sleep. This often comes in the form of floral scents, but can branch off into other soothing smells. Her particular favourites include cedar and amber.

You wouldn’t describe what you and Pakunoda do as cuddling, per se. She treats you more like a support pillow than anything else. Arms wrapped around you tightly and chin resting upon your head.

Neither of you will be able to move an inch throughout the night. Pakunoda has a very specific pre sleep schedule that she’ll run through every night (including final bathroom breaks, cleaning and small talk) and after that, it’s lights out. It doesn’t matter if you wake up and need something: she’s out cold. You might be able to escape, if you can pry yourself out. But just know: getting back in the same position will prove twice as difficult.

Not a snorer, hell, you can hardly hear her breathing most nights. If it weren’t for the subtle rise and fall of her chest against your back, you’d question if she even was.

Up long before you are, usually has one half of the bed already made (haphazardly as not to disturb you.)

I had a lot of fun doing this one; might return to it for further Troupe members at a later date, so cheers for the ask Anon! (Little irrelevant thing I just want to mention for future reference: if any PT ask includes Hisoka or Illumi please specify as such.)

[juniperskye]

Three’s Company

This is just a lil blurb about Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan and you being in love! Based on the following Request: @satans-bitch Hi! Idk if you would be comfortable writing it, but I love the idea of Aaron hotchner x reader x Derek Morgan just all being so in love with each other. Thank u Xx – I took some creative liberties…I hope you like it!

Hotch x BAU! Fem Reader x Morgan

Word count: 883

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, poly-relationship (I’m not the most familiar with this lifestyle) canon typical violence, mantion of babies and pregnancy, Let me know if I missed any.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

So, neither Derek nor Aaron ever and I mean EVER thought they’d be in a polyamorous relationship. But let me tell you, when you arrived at the BAU, they both knew they had to have you. Aaron had gone to Dave time and time again seeking advice and Derek did the same with Penelope.

They’d both complain that there was no way you were interested, because clearly you like the other guy. Only, that wasn’t quite the issue.

You didn’t just like Aaron or Derek, you liked them both. They were so similar and yet so different and there was no way you could ever choose just one of them.

After many instances of the men fighting for your attention and affection, you pulled them both aside to have a serious conversation.

“I think I should leave the BAU.” You stated.

“What? No!” Derek blurted.

“Why would you think that?” Aaron inquired. “If our behavior has made you uncomfortable, I am so sorry. It was never my intention, and I would hate to see such a talented agent leave because of my idiocy.”

“It’s not your guy’s behavior that’s making me feel this way. It’s my feelings for you.” You said, gesturing to both men.

“Feelings for who?” Derek questioned.

“Both of you.” You blushed.

That evening you’d explained to the men that you had feelings for both of them and had the situation been different you’d have suggested a poly relationship, but you knew that it was too much to ask of two alpha males who’d never been in one before.

What you hadn’t expected to happen was for them to give you a quizzical look and then ask you to give them some time to think about it.

--

It had been nearly a year since then and the three of you had developed something truly beautiful. Aaron had been so stoic at work but at home he was soft, and he always did everything in his power to ensure you and Derek were both cared for.

And well Derek, he was clingy at home. Always wanting his hands on you and he’d come to really enjoy having physical contact with Aaron.

Like when you’d watch a movie, Aaron would have his arm slung over the back of the couch while you cuddled up into his side, and Derek would be sitting as close to you as possible, practically sitting you in his lap. This position would allow for Aaron’s hand to rest around Derek as well and that warmth became a comfort for him.

There had been another shift shortly after that, pet names…they’d been slipping out more frequently. And not just them men using them with you either.

“Sweetheart can you pass me my phone?” Aaron had asked, looking directly at Derek.

“Sure thing sugar.” Derek had replied.

You had been shocked initially, but it ultimately had warmed your heart to see them falling into this relationship more and more. Their comfort in this had been your main priority, you hadn’t cared about anything else.

--

Work had been the toughest part of this newfound dynamic. When any of you got hurt on a case, the other two couldn’t exactly hold it together. And with the team being out of the loop of your lifestyle, well they definitely suspected something.

The most recent had been Aaron, he had been shot while taking down an unsub. Thankfully it had been a flesh wound, but when you heard the shot and saw him go down, you couldn’t help the wail that tore through you. The paramedics had requested you step away, and Derek pulled you into his embrace to get you to comply.

“Baby he’s gonna be okay!” Derek said while holding you close.

“He was shot D! What if he’s not?” You cried.

“I know he’s gonna be okay baby. He has to be.” Derek mumbled the last part.

You looked up to see the tears falling from his misty eyes, and you held him tighter. The team sat by and watched the situation play out, fully convinced now that something was transpiring between the three of you. More than they had initially assumed.

--

The newest development had been the discussion of children. The guys had baby fever, they had seen you interacting with your sister’s newborn and you swear you saw them both drooling over the sight of you.

So…have you ever thought about having kids princess?” Derek posed.

Currently you were lying on the couch, your head in Derek’s lap and him pressed against Aaron. The movie playing, long forgotten as Derek combed his fingers through your hair and Aaron traced shapes on Derek’s bicep.

“Um, yes…I have thought about it. Why do you ask?” You sat up.

“Well, honey, we had a conversation about it the other day.” Aaron clarified.

“You two…had a conversation about me having a baby?” You questioned.

“About us…having a baby.” Derek said, gesturing to the three of you.

Your jaw dropped in shock. What had started as inappropriate flirting in the workplace had developed into a serious relationship between the three of you. One fueled by love, safety, and trust.

“I would love to have a baby with you guys.” You smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

[hannieehaee]

SERENDIPITY

18+ / mdi

summary: jungkook, god of love and son of venus is given the task by his mother herself to rid the world of you, known as psyche, as your beauty begins to rival her own. unfortunately for all parties involved, jungkook becomes enamored by you upon accidentally pinching himself with his own arrow.

content: cupid!jungkook, psyche!reader, an extremely simplified and smutty version of the og story, afab reader, everyone here is a god/goddess of some sort, side character deaths, the dialogue is very much modern and not fitting of the times, angst(?), fluff, smut, they have sex where she doesnt know who he is multiple times but its consensual, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.6k

a/n: for immersion purposes, psyche will be a reader insert and wont be referred to as psyche throughout the story (but jk will be referred interchangeably as cupid). anyways i read this last week during one of the lit courses i decided to take to improve my writing and really enjoyed it!! i hope u guys enjoy it too<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Why did you call for me, again?"

"Jungkook, pay attention!", hissed his mother, holding her fingers to her temples in stress as one of her many servants walked in with the fruit she'd requested, "I need you to use your arrows on someone."

"What? Why? I thought you didn't like me meddling with people's love lives."

"This is different. This one needs a little help," Venus frowned in sheer annoyance, "She is known as Psyche by many, Y/N by her loved ones. She has become quite a figure among the Roman population. Some have begun to worship her beauty. They pray to her, they bring her offerings, they kiss at her feet, completely disregarding the true Goddess of Beauty."

"And where does this concern me?", Jungkook was beyond bored by his mother's ramblings. On a usual day, he would be out and entertaining himself with the many mortal maidens found around Rome, always guaranteeing himself a partner for the day.

Venus shot Cupid a look as her servants fed her by mouth, making him straighten his back and begin paying better attention. Even as the Goddess of Beauty, Venus was known as one of the most menacing Goddesses to exist, holding far too much power among all Gods and Goddesses. Jungkook couldn't help but feel intimidated by her, even as carefree as he was known to be.

"She has far too many admirers. Even Gods are beginning to show interest in her, yet she is lacking in suitors thus far. I need you to shoot your arrow and tie her off to the most hideous creature you can muster. She may seize from being a disturbance this way."

"Okay, so you want me to doom her to an eternity with a monster?", Jungkook tilted his head in curiosity.

Despite being considered the most beautiful entity, Jungkook knew Venus to be one of the least amicable creatures in all of the land. Mortals were blissfully unaware of her cruelty, thinking her to be the most perfect among all Goddesses. However, Cupid, as her son, knew of the misery that awaited anyone who crossed the Goddess of Beauty.

Venus halted her movements in frustration, scaring the servants nearby before turning to Jungkook in annoyance, "Cupid, my son, you will obey my order without question. I gave you those wings, I gave you that bow, and I gave you that arrow. I don't care how cruel you may think me to be, this is an order. You shall not utilize your powers for your own endeavors until you finish your task," she demanded, "Now, go rid me of that wench before I find someone else to do the job."

With a sigh, Jungkook nodded in defeat, fully aware of the type of punishments his mother could deliver should he disobey her orders. Walking over to the window through which he had originally entered, he pulled his bow and arrow from his back, beginning to fly off with his wings as he embarked on a journey to seek out the mighty Psyche that had his mother so worried.

"Y/N, there's another letter from one of your admirers," announced Psyche's mother, placing the letter on the huge pile of gifts provided by the many civilians who came visit their castle with the hope of getting a glimpse of the beautiful girl.

"Mother, what shall I do with all these? There's so many letters yet not a single suitor," you sighed, frustrated at the lack of prospects you'd had so far, "My sisters have both married, yet I am left alone with no one to seek my heart."

"Child, you should be grateful," said your mother, "You are admired through all the land, vied for as if you were a true Goddess. Someone will come for you one day, rest assured," affirmed your mother, petting your hair as she landed a soft kiss on your forehead and took her leave once more.

It was easy for your parents to grow used to the love and admiration you received. Endless people would come and dedicate themselves to their servitude if it meant as much as receiving your blessing – which was absolutely worthless as a mere princess in a land filled with mystical deities.

Your elder sisters had both been married off months back, finding old yet respectable husbands to take them away and care for them as any and all husbands should. You, however, remained alone with your parents, always hoping that a man would be brave enough to court you.

It was unfortunate, really; the way in which your beauty prevented you from receiving any suitors. You had not chosen to be blessed by Venus herself, nor did you ever hope to become her contender in the title of the most beautiful entity in all of creation. Unlike you, she had found a God to sweep her off her feet, gifting her with the fruit of love himself – her son Cupid. Oh, how you wished he'd shoot his arrow and allow you some rest from this endless search for a husband.

~

As weeks passed by, your parents became more and more worried with your state. You were unconsolable, finding misery in every letter your sisters would send in regard to their new lives with their new families. One of your sisters was already awaiting an heir. Despite your endless happiness for your loving sister, your misery at your own situation prevented you from feeling genuine excitement for a new heir in your family. You wanted your own. You needed your own.

Your constant distress caused your parents to seek out a esteemed Oracle in your city, hoping that she would be able to give some insight about your predicament. She would be able to answer the question as though who and when you would find a suitor.

Visiting her was easy enough, feeling intense excitement at the prospect of an insight into who your beloved would be. Your parents seemed indifferent, but simply hoped to ease your endless concerns.

The Oracle took the form of an old woman, one who was known to assert people's future entirely correctly. Thus far, she was yet to be erroneous in her readings. Such magic was impressive to you, leaving you worried for any bad outcome she could possibly see in your future. If she were to find something unfortunate, there would likely be no way to remedy it. However, your parents assured you that the preventive knowledge would allow you to act accordingly and fix your destiny should you need to.

"The great Psyche," smiled the old woman sitting across from you, "I have heard lots about you."

Bowing your head in respect, you introduced yourself despite her knowing you by the popular name of Psyche, "I have heard of you too. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Oracle. I hope to find a favorable end with you."

"I hope for the same."

Taking your hands, the Oracle felt them, closing her eyes in concentration as she went through every crease and contour of your hands, furrowing her eyebrows every so often. Her emotions translated onto you somehow, making your heartbeat speed up and your own eyebrows furrow in worry.

Suddenly her eyes opened, a clear distress showing through them.

"Your destiny is muddled," she began, "I cannot see too well, but your future is grand and ... it will lead to misfortune to those around you."

Your mother stepped in at such words, inquiring for more information, "What do you mean by this? What is it that you saw?"

"Your child may wed a powerful being. One among the strongest to ever be seen. She shall marry a being stronger than a God, one capable of immeasurable destruction should he choose to engage in such acts."

"A God?", asked your father.

"It is uncertain as per what I see," she responded, "All I can see is his aura radiating stronger than the sun. He shall take her and make her his own, not allowing anything to stand in his way," she reaffirmed.

"I-", you began, unable to finish your sentence as your parents quickly stood up and dragged you onto your feet.

"We shall take our leave," your mother said frantically, "We thank you for your service."

No more questions were asked as your parents dragged you by your hand, leading you out of the cursed place.

The Oracle's words had never been wrong, which meant that your future was sealed. You were to wed something that was not a man. Was he a God? There was just no way of knowing. It could've been a demon or monster seeking the most beautiful woman in the land. It could've been a God seeking a mortal to keep in his chambers as he wed a Goddess. Whatever it may have been, you were terrified.

~

"You shall leave," were your mother's first words upon arriving back to the castle.

"W-what?"

"We cannot keep you here. If a being is to come and rip you away, we cannot allow it to destroy our kingdom. Your fate is sealed, but ours remains," said your mother, your father nodding in agreement beside her.

"Where am I to go?" you whispered in disbelief.

"We will take you to the mountains. Maybe the monster shall not find you there."

"Monster? How can you be so certain?"

"Gods mustn't marry mortals, you foolish child. A God would never have to drag you away, as you would go willingly. It must be an evil creature attempting to attain your beauty."

"But-"

"No 'but's, child. It has been decided," your father gave the final verdict, thus sealing your fate even further.

To have hoped for protection from your parents had been foolish. These were the same royalty who had given away their two eldest daughters to the highest bidders, not caring for proper marriages as long as they meant protection for their kingdom. You were equally worthless to them. Should you pose any danger to their kingdom and you would simply be thrown aside, just as now.

The following days proved as a goodbye as your parents prepared your departure. They assured themselves they shall never see you again, so they made arrangements with that idea in mind. Without a care for your wellbeing, they assured themselves this was the best course of action. Your fate was sealed, after all. There was nothing they could do to protect you any longer.

It was only a few days after your visit to the Oracle that your parents made the long and extraneous walk to the lone mountains neighboring the kingdom. Climbing the highest and most lonesome peak, they bid their goodbyes to you, with your mother letting out a few worthless tears as she looked at you one last time.

Your first few days on the mountain had been miserable. You only had enough food to realistically survive a few days, but your parents had reassured you that your husband would come for you soon, likely aware that you were there for his taking. The constant fear of the most odious taking you away made you feel terror you had never experienced. Jumping into the peaks below you crossed your mind a few times, but you knew you'd survive the fall. Your fate did not predict a tragic death, which meant that any fall would not result in demise. Your metaphorical demise would only come in the form of your husband.

All you could do now was wait for him to come, hoping against all hope that he would not be as monstrous as you dared imagine.

Jungkook was beyond annoyed at his current task.

Despite being a God, he did not hold the same almighty powers many other Gods did. His skill was the intertwining of souls, shooting his arrow any time he knew two people were meant to be tied for life.

In all honesty, he did not care for such a task. The thought of tying Psyche's fate to that of a monstrous being did not bother him in the slightest. He felt quite indifferent about it, not knowing nor caring who Psyche was. He doubted Psyche's beauty could possibly be as menacing as his mother had described, but he still felt some sort of intrigue about her appearance.

Fortunately, his curiosity was soon satiated.

After days of looking for Psyche, he finally encountered her, watching from afar as he spotted a lone woman standing on the cliff of a mountain, completely bare as her clothes laid ripped on the small surface of the mountain. It appeared that she had been there for days, likely having ripped off her own clothes in frustration.

Had you been left here for his taking? Destiny worked in mysterious ways, after all.

As of now, Cupid had only been able to see your backside, as you were facing opposite of him. Even from afar, Jungkook could not deny the beauty of your body. Every curve and contour of it had been sculpted to perfection, making the God salivate at the sight. But Jungkook had come here with a task. He needed to take care of his mother's request. There was no time to thirst after the heavenly body before him.

Reaching behind him, Jungkook grabbed onto his bow and arrow, bringing both to the front as he began to aim at you, prepared to shoot when he got the angle just right. After shooting you, he would aim his arrow at the first creature he encountered, let it be a deer or an actual monster. It did not matter much at the moment.

But as Jungkook had said, destiny worked in mysterious ways.

Jungkook had been entirely unprepared for the moment you turned around, facing him yet not seeing him from his hiding spot in the distance.

Your beauty took his breath away instantly, making him falter in his movements as his focus shifted from his arrow and onto you. Your body was the image of perfection itself, shaped perfectly for his hands to drag themselves across every inch of skin. Your curves were begging to be marked by his lips, being just the perfect size for any God to lose himself in them. And your face? Gods, it was the prettiest sight in all of Rome.

Jungkook understood now why his mother had felt threatened by your mere existence. He understood why you had so many admirers, yet no suitors brave enough to make you theirs.

Without realizing, Jungkook's hand had slipped during his daydreaming, making him misplace his hand and causing his arrow to grace him across the chest, creating a gash right by his accelerated heart.

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck.

You ...

Gods, you beautiful thing. You gorgeous, beautiful thing.

The effects of the arrow were quick in turning Jungkook into a mess of himself. His breathing accelerated, his eyes became hooded, his skin rose in goosebumps, his cock stood tall and proud. His entire body betrayed him as he rapidly fell in love with you.

His mission had failed, but he could not care for such things in this moment. Not when he felt such strong emotions of love towards you.

This was rare. His arrows caused people to fall in love, but never had they produced such a strong effect. Never had he seen a man become so immensely enamored so quickly after a shot of his arrow. Perhaps your beauty had bewitched him before his arrow struck? The details didn't really matter much to him. At least not as much as his sheer need to have you did.

But it could not be done so easily.

Gods were not meant to fall in love with humans. Should his mother ever find out and you would both meet your ruin. No, he needed to think this through. He needed to get to you, but not allow you to know of him. If you were ever to see him, you'd fall in love with him instantly.

He did not want to force such a situation onto you, so despite the sheer effort it took, Jungkook took his leave, opting to plan for an appropriate way to rescue you and make you his.

It took a few days for your misery to come to an end.

After endless hours of agony stranded and alone on the peak of that mountain as you awaited your inevitable demise, you finally came to find some peace.

It was a voice, an unknown one, calling to you. It had been during one of the many instances in which you had found yourself wailing at your misery, completely defeated at your situation.

Suddenly a voice called out to you, reassuring words in their tongue.

"Do not fear, Psyche, nor be sorrowful beyond measure... I have come to aid you, for it is impossible that Love should go unrewarded."

Despite the words, there was no heavenly body attached to them. They had simply come from the wind.

"Who are you?", you asked.

"I am Zephyrus, the West Wind. You may never see me, but I am here to rescue you."

"Rescue me? Where shall you take me?"

"I shall take you to my master's castle. He shall care for you there."

"Your master?", was this meant to be the monster who would wed you?

"Yes. His immeasurable love for you shall be proved as he cares for you."

"Is he ... Is he a monster?"

"On the contrary. He is a heavenly body; the most heavenly of them all," reassured the West Wind.

A heavenly body? Could it really be a God?

You needed no time to consider it. You decided to you must go and meet the man who would save you from your misery.

"Take me, Zephyrus. Please."

"With pleasure."

~

You were unsure how you had arrived here, but that was the last of your concerns upon seeing your surroundings.

Currently, you found yourself in the most beautiful of palaces. Everything was made of expensive marble and tailored just to your tastes. As you explored the gorgeous abode, Zephyrus explained your current situation to you.

"You shall be cared for here, by the most competent of servants," the West Wind began, "They will rid you of all the misery you suffered on that mountain. Every bit of suffering your family brought to you shall be undone within this palace.

"Oh, thank you, Zephyrus! You don't understand how grateful I am."

"You shall not thank me. This is all your beloved's doing."

"When shall I meet him?"

"You will meet him tonight, as you lay to sleep," he began, "However, you shall not see him."

That confused you.

"What do you mean?"

"He wishes not to be seen. He will come to you in your barest of forms to reveal his undying affections, but you shall respect his wishes of not being seen. He will show up in the dark as your back faces him. This is his one and only condition," revealed Zephyrus.

"Oh."

It was disheartening, to say the least. But you owed your eternal gratitude to your future husband, so if he requested not to be seen, you would obey such order.

"I understand. Anything for my savior."

~

The next few hours were spent in luxury you had yet to familiarize yourself with.

You were bathed and fed, healed from all trace of injury during your time stranded. You were treated as a Goddess, served by invisible, voiceless servants as the wind aided you in all your needs.

It proved quite lonely, but you were still content at the knowledge that your beloved would come to you tonight.

They dressed you up as beautiful as you could imagine. Your beauty shone through the care you were given, making you appear entirely irresistible to any man who should come your way.

Oh, you were beyond excited to see your future husband. Would he allow passion to take over him when he saw you?

You had not met him yet, but you were already in love. All things Zephyrus had told you about him only made you more excited.

He detailed his feelings for you, telling you the mountains he'd move just for a single glance at you. He told you of the creation of this palace, rushed to be made to your liking just so he could care for you away from all harm.

Oh, your husband just sounded so lovely. Yet you wanted to cause his ruin upon meeting him.

You laid in bed, your natural beauty shining through the care your invisible servants had given you. Your sleeping gown allowed any to see the perfect contour of your curves as you laid in bed awaiting your beloved's arrival, back facing the window as Zephyrus had instructed.

You were not to face towards the window, allowing the dark atmosphere of the room to hide your beloved's identity. However, according to Zephyrus, your beloved would be able to see you through his magic, allowing him to get his fill of your beauty.

It only took a few hours for a voice to emerge through the window.

"Oh, my beloved," sighed the voice, approaching.

"Husband?", you asked, still lying on your side, facing away from him.

"Yes, it's me. I have not wed you yet, but you are correct. You are my wife from now on, beautiful," his steps got closer, stopping at the edge of the bed opposite your own.

"Oh, husband, how long I've waited for you!", you wailed.

He took a shaky breath, climbing the bed as his hands laid softly on your hip. Your hip had been sticking out due to your sideways position, ready for him to grab at it however he desired.

"My beautiful Psyche ... You cannot understand how badly I want you ..." he breathed, hands hesitant as they caressed the curves presented to him, "I've had to hold back from ravaging you for days. Your touch is the only cure to this madness I feel."

Never in your life had you felt such an immediate fire within you. Oh, how badly you wanted to see him and express the same sentiment.

"You shall touch me however you wish, my dear husband. Please touch me ... I am yours," you pleaded.

"Yes? You are mine? Even if you shall never see me, you wish to be mine?"

You winced at such words, sad at the implications behind never facing your husband. But his voice and touch were enough to render you powerless against him, wanting him more than you thought possible.

You whimpered when his hands went to lift up your gown, revealing your nude bottom as he continued to caress at you.

"Yes! I am yours in every way. Please ... please take me. I need your touch more than anything," you pleaded.

With a groan, he positioned you so he could kneel behind you, placing you on all fours for him. It truly did not matter if you faced him or not, as the room was far too dark for you to ever make out his mere silhouette.

His hands were greedy as he felt you up, throwing off the useless gown so he could have his fill of your body. With endless groans and puffs of breath, he touched every inch, kissing his favorite parts as he explored your body.

"You beautiful thing ... No one shall ever have this body ever again. It is mine forever. Do you understand?"

You sighed in pleasure due to his mere touch, "Yes, husband. My body is for you only."

"I am going to officially wed you as I find my rightful place inside you. This will serve as our wedding night. Okay, gorgeous?"

You nodded wordlessly, pushing up against him to encourage his touch further.

It seemed as if he was already nude, as you felt his hardness behind you when he pushed up against you in retaliation.

Oh, it was so big and warm. He would surely be your ruin.

With a groan, he entered you, making your back arch deliciously at such stretch.

"Oh ... My angel ... My beautiful Psyche. You are everything a man could want, fuck. Feel so perfect around me," the God groaned upon entering you, hands digging into your hips as he began canting his hips against yours.

He caressed you like a man in love, whimpering any time you'd get just a little too tight for him. For the first time in your life, you felt like a true Goddess, experiencing worship from a God himself.

"It's so warm and perfect ...", he sighed, "Made for me, yeah? Just for me ... My Psyche, my ruin, my perfect ruin," he murmured as he pressed kisses against your back, a new confession of love behind each one.

Meanwhile, you were rendered wordless. Nothing made sense when you felt such otherworldly pleasure. Were mere mortals meant to experience such bliss? How could you ever outlive such an experience when your beloved was giving you everything and more than you ever hoped from a husband?

Your whines filled up the room, making your husband speed up out of sheer desire for more. He encouraged your sounds, dipping a hand between your legs to play with you with his skilled fingers, drawing cry after cry out of you as his hips refused to slow down.

"You are so beautiful, fuck ..." he groaned, "Men should worship the ground you walk on. I will worship you ... Every day for the rest of our lives I will worship this beautiful body."

Nothing but love flowed between you. Your new husband's obsession with you was more than clear. The God worshiped your body with low cries of your name, hips becoming less and less coordinated by the minute. His godly stamina was no match for the feelings flowing through his body, rendering him weaker than a human man at the sight of his beloved losing herself under his touch.

Your high triggered his own, making him slump against your back as his hips attempted to hump against you throughout the entirety of his orgasm. He whimpered pathetically at the tightening of your walls, crying expletives far too explicit for a God to recite.

You did not fare any better. From the moment your husband laid his hands on you, you became a shell of your former self, your body now a vessel dedicated to pleasure. You had yet to even ask his name, too immersed in the love between you to even remember.

"My beautiful girl," he whispered as he recovered his breath, kissing along the length your back, "I will protect you for the rest of eternity," his lips went down your back, reaching your ass, "going to take care of you in any and every way," his lips eventually reached your cunt, still swollen and leaking out his own essence. He remained quiet for a few moments, likely hypnotized by the sight.

"Oh ...," he groaned upon a tentative lick against your sensitive cunt, "Need you again ... Need this cunt again," he cried, losing himself between your folds.

Losing his train of thought entirely, he held you up on your hands and knees, feasting on your cunt shamelessly. He kissed and licked at you, groaning any time your ass would push back against him, silently begging for more.

"F-feels so good ... Need y-you. Please ...", you whimpered, begging for nothing in particular. Such pleasure had you lacking any critical thought. You were likely the most mindless creature in all of the land as your husband took away all your ability to reason.

"Gonna get you there, gorgeous. Gonna make you cum and make you mine over and over again," he growled against your cunt.

With just a few more moments, you came undone once more, this time falling against the bed in sheer exhaustion. You wished to turn around and seek solace in your husband, but you knew better and opted to allow him to initiate the next contact.

Once more, he spent a few moments worshiping your limp body, kissing and sucking at every corner he enjoyed. Every so often he would mutter low praises to your person, claiming worship towards you. Unfortunately, this ended far too soon, quickly leaving you cold and alone on the bed as be suddenly got up.

"I apologize if that was too much," he chuckled, now from a small distance. You wanted to turn to confirm, but you did not dare disobey his prior order, "I, uh, I must take my leave now, my love."

That was when you truly wished to break his rule and turn to him, pleading at him to stay with you through the night. One night and you were already infatuated with him.

"You're leaving?"

The disappointment must've been clear in your voice, as he instructed you to close your eyes before he turned you around to face him, caressing your cheeks in a loving manner before landing a soft peck on your lips.

"I cannot stay the night with you, beautiful. If you wake up and find out my identity ... I don't know how I shall protect you from that."

"But-"

"It's okay, angel. I will be back night after night, giving you all the love a God can muster. Now I bid you goodnight, my love. I love you," he kissed the back of your palm, quickly disappearing from your vicinity before you could say goodbye.

When you opened your eyes he was gone, window still open and marking his sudden exit. As deflated as you felt at his departure, you also felt immense excitement for the next morning in which you'd see him, promising yourself to be prepared for him every single night to deliver your love to him.

After weeks of becoming your husband's wife, you continued to live a life of pure bliss every night as he made love to you. It was still incomprehensible to you how he would deliver his sentiments in such a carnal way, but you were yet to have any complaints. The two of you would create the embodiment of love together every night, and you looked forward to it day after day.

But it was only the nighttime that brought you such happiness. You'd spend your days waiting for your husband to arrive, hoping for the moment in which he'd be with you and love you. He'd make conversation with you every night after making love to you, making you feel less lonely in those moments. However, you'd remain completely alone the rest of your days.

It wasn't after many pleas that your husband finally agreed to allow you some company in your new palace. Being accessible only through the flowing of Zephyrus' wind, you were completely alone at all times. It had taken vast begging from your part, but your husband eventually agreed to command Zephyrus to fly your sisters out to you, somehow managing to get into contact with them.

The last time you had seen them had been before finding out about your wretched fate through that Oracle. They remained unaware that you had been left stranded at the mountain, likely entering a panic when the news were delivered to them.

Before allowing your sisters access to his palace, your husband had warned you to stray away from their persuasion. Confused, you asked him to elaborate. He then informed you of the way in which they'd likely envy your newfound fortune and somehow wish to cause a rift between you and your husband. As one last warning, he told you to not listen to them should they tell you to unmask his identity. He loved you far too much to be ripped away from you in such a way, he had said.

You did not believe your sisters capable of attempting to sabotage the immense love you had found in the arms of your husband, but you had unfortunately been wrong.

Upon their arrival, they had showed little concern for your sudden disappearance, simply making quips about how much less their husbands provided for them, claiming they deserved more than yourself. They, of course, did not say such things to your face but rather to each other. But the winds of Zephyrus informed you of it all upon their departure. Even during their stay, they demanded you unmask your husband, claiming he must be a hideous creature if he was so insistent in hiding himself from his beloved wife.

You, unfortunately, fell for their trap. The seed of doubt had been instilled within you, making your curiosity for your husband grow more rapidly than ever. As soon as they left, you began pondering on ways to see your husband in a way that would not reveal your betrayal.

The outcome did not matter in the end. Regardless of your husband's appearance, you would fall for him time and time again just from his mere presence. Should he be the most wretched of monsters and you would still love him. His love and tenderness for you had rendered you a woman in love, and nothing would take that away.

But you needed to know. You needed to see him. You had gone far too long without seeing your soul's other half.

~

It occurred just a few nights later. The fated night in which you would finally see your husband.

By an act of the Gods above, your husband had fallen asleep right after a night of rigorous love making, holding you in his arms with the most love a man could hold for his woman.

In the sheer darkness, you managed to make your way out of your husband's hold, sneaking your way to the other side of the room with difficulty due to the complete lack of illumination in the room. After some struggle in the dark, you found a lamp, which you managed to light up with some oil.

Due to the small size of the lamp, you had to come close to your husband in order to properly see him. With hesitation, you walked over to him, holding the lamp right above his sleeping form to get the perfect view of him.

He was ...

He was the embodiment of love itself.

Before you laid Cupid, the most beautiful of all Gods.

Jungkook, as some knew him, slept under the light of your lamp, beautiful wings nowhere to be seen as he retracted them in his sleep.

You became instantly hypnotized by the sight of your beautiful husband. Your heart sped up and your eyes became heavy. His nude form was nothing short of art, and his gorgeous features were some that could never be replicated by neither man nor God.

If you hadn't already been insanely head over heels over your husband, you would've fallen for Jungkook upon a single sight. It had been the most beautiful God who had been making love to you night after night, praying to you as if you had been the deity.

Unconsciously, you grew too distracted by the sight of your beloved, not realizing you had tilted your lamp enough for some of the scorching oil to slip and trickle onto Jungkook's chest, immediately rendering him awake.

With shock in his eyes, he got up in a frantic hurry, clearly not having realized he had fallen asleep next time you. His hands went straight to soothing the burnt skin right by his chest. It didn't take long for betrayal to appear in his eyes, realizing that you had deliberately sought out a way in which to see him while he was fully unaware of your intentions.

"Psyche ...", he muttered, eyebrows furrowed as he avoided your eyes in disdain. You caught sight of tears growing in his eyes, causing pain to gnaw at your chest.

"Jungkook, I-"

He chuckled bitterly at the situation, "I warned you against this time and time again, but you became poisoned by the words of mere mortals who do not hold the love for you I so highly esteem," he took a breath, "I foolishly wounded myself with my own arrow and took the role of your lover. I feared that you'd want to cut off the head that carries these eyes that love you, so I remained a mystery to you. Yet your own love for me did not respect me enough to halt this betrayal. I- I shall take my leave. Goodbye, Y/N," he said before retracting his wings and making his way out through the window once more, hands rubbing at the growing wound on his chest due to the oil that had burnt him.

You stood there wordless, tears in your eyes as you watched your husband fly away.

Your cursed endlessly throughout the rest of your sleepless night, hoping that maybe he would come back tomorrow so you could make amends.

Tomorrow never came, and neither did the next day. From your perspective, time stood still as Jungkook continued not to show up day after day for a week. On the seventh day, your heart grew too sore to continue waiting for him without taking action.

Although you blamed your own greed for him for your betrayal to him, you also blamed the instigators – your sisters.

But they were your sisters no more. They were simply obstacles to overcome in the journey to gain Jungkook's trust back. And nothing would stop you.

A new sense of vengeance took over you astonishingly fast. Without a second thought, you managed to contact each of your sisters individually, making claims of your husband, Cupid himself, becoming unforgiving of your betrayal and demanding your departure, announcing that he would wed your sister instead. Each of your greedy sisters fell for the lie and one by one fell to their death as they attempted to make their way to Cupid's castle.

As for you, you managed to convince the West Wind to fly you off the mountains so you could begin your journey to your beloved. Hurt and disheartened, you spent weeks in search of him, not mindful at all of how battered you became with the passing of time. Any pain would be worth Jungkook's forgiveness.

However, your state of mind and exhaustion led you to multiple attempts at ending your own life, attempting to drown yourself or jump off cliffs, always surviving almost unscathed by some cruel act of the Gods. Without Jungkook's forgiveness life was simply not worth living.

In the meantime, Jungkook found himself in his mother's chambers, healing from the wound you had caused as his mother let out her fury at the discovery of her son's new lover.

"So you decided to wed your mother's nemesis? You decided that you shall bring this wench upon me and tie her to me for eternity?", she seethed as Jungkook disregarded her, too exhausted to respond.

"I shall find that hideous wench and rid the world of her myself," she decided, calling over a few servants to direct them to deliver you to them, "And you," she turned to Cupid once more, "You useless child. I shall birth another one just to spite you for your disrespect."

Those were her last words as she exit the chambers, leaving Jungkook to his rest once more. He wanted to worry for you, but his wound of the heart needed more healing before he could allow himself to go find you for himself. Within him, he thought of you fondly, hoping you'd survive his mother's wrath.

~

It did not take long for Venus to find you and bring you to your knees before her, expressing every foul thought she had of you with no shame.

"You believe to be worthy of Cupid, the prettiest God to lay foot on this world? Fine. Should you complete my tasks and I shall stay out of your way. Should you fail, I will do with you as I please."

Having spent weeks alone in the wilderness, injured in every way imaginable, you could not see a better outcome to such a situation. You agreed without thinking twice, knowing that no fate was worse than your current one.

You were assigned impossible tasks, one by one, as Venus sat back and awaited for your inevitable demise.

Much to her surprise, the divine forces had helped you in the completion of each one.

The first task had been to sort an immense amount of grains before morning. The grains amounted to an innumerable quantity, which proved the task to be impossible. Upon your defeat, you fell asleep halfway through the task, somehow waking up to find ants assisting you in its completion. By the time Venus arrived, she had a frown on her face at the sight of the achievement.

Her anger did not last, as she assigned you the next impossible task with ease.

Upon being ordered to gather golden fleece from magic sheep, you knew that this time you'd truly meet your demise. The sheep were extremely aggressive and known to kill a man in mere seconds. However, by another act of the Gods above, the reeds by the riverbank suddenly advised you to await til morning in order to freely gather the fleece that the sheep had shed.

The completion of this task also brought anger to Venus' demeanor, causing her to provide you with yet another impossible task. The completion of the final task finally led to the hardest of them all; one that would finally render you no longer.

Your final task had been to travel to the underworld and bring Venus a box of beauty. There were far too many intricate steps to be followed, but your love for Jungkook was enough to lead your journey.

Finally, upon your arrival, you held the box of beauty in your hands, ready to deliver it to Venus and finally receive her blessing in wedding her son. But once more, your curiosity grew too big.

Before arriving to the mighty Goddess, your hands took a mind of their own, forcing you to take a peak at the box. If you were to officially wed your beloved Cupid, a little extra beauty would surely be helpful.

Your naïveté finally led you to your final moments, causing you to enter eternal sleep upon a small peek of the box's contents. Still slightly conscious, you laid in your lonesome, unable to move nor think.

In your final moments, all you could think of was your beautiful Cupid and how badly you had hoped to live for him. To live to love him once more.

It took Jungkook a few days after his mother's final warning to him to fully recover from his injury.

Being aware of his mother's anger towards you, his immediate thought upon gaining his energy back was to seek you out and rescue you from whatever threat his mother must've been holding over you. He was unsure if she had managed to find you, but he could not take the risk of waiting to find out, knowing your life was likely in danger.

It took interrogating a few servants in order to track you down, now making it his mission to save you from his mother's disdain.

When he had been informed of the endless grueling tasks you had taken on just for a chance to see him again, Jungkook's heart melted. His love for you had never gone away, but his hurt had blinded him as his wound debilitated him. Now fully recovered, he was able to realize that his endless adoration for you was mutual. Your stubborn desire to see him had not been born out of malice, but out of love for him. He understood now. Had he been denied of your beauty for a single day, he would've lost all sense of sanity.

You were currently on your final task, Jungkook had been informed. Worried about your safety, he set out to take the same journey, traveling to retrieve the box himself in case you had somehow not made it on your own. He grew impressed when he reached the end of the journey and found that you had already retrieved it and were currently on your way back.

Jungkook continued to travel in search of you, growing more worried by the second as he did not find you. The moment he finally encountered you, his wings gave out in him, causing him to fall due to the sudden worry the sight caused him.

You were lying on the ground, vulnerable and alone as you held the box against your chest. You must've opened it, he assumed, knowing your curiosity could easily get the best of you.

Running to you, he held you to his arms, throwing the box aside as he caressed your limp body in his arms.

"Oh, Psyche ... My beautiful, curious girl," he tsk'd, "Your curiosity became your undoing once more," he scolded lightheartedly, tears in his eyes at being able to hold you again.

Leaning down, he pressed a lone kiss to your lips, whispering against them as he did so, "Come back to me, my love. Let me make you mine again."

Within seconds your body regained its consciousness, leaving you disoriented for a few moments. Upon realizing Jungkook was holding you, a look of awe in his eyes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible to you as you cried into his chest.

"Oh, my beautiful girl," he wrapped himself around you, retracting his wings so they'd shield you both from the outside world, "Don't cry for me, my love. I'm here. I adore you more than I can possibly describe."

You wailed apologies into his chest, weaved with many confessions of your love for him. He took them all in with a smile on his face, refusing to let go of you as he memorized the shape of your body against his own.

"Love you so much, my sweet ruin. No one can ever harm you again," he assured, leaving endless kissed against your hair. He finally pulled away, wiping your tears with his thumbs as he looked into your eyes, "Let me take you home, my love."

~

"My beautiful girl ... How I missed you, fuck," groaned the pretty angel as he laid kisses down your neck.

He pushed you up against the wall the moment he flew you back to his recluse palace, rendering you speechless with just a few kisses. Jungkook wasted no time in showing you his love through words and touches, finally able to face you while he loved on you.

Sighing as he kissed down your neck, you molded yourself to his liking, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to you. You were far too enamored by the God, feeling nothing but inhuman addiction to his touch.

"I adore you more than you could ever understand," he breathed out as his hand ripped apart your worn out gown, wanting to finally see you bare face to face. With a shuddering breath, he got his fill of your body, caressing at every inch his eyes went over, feeling the carnal need to memorize every curve.

Turning you around, he pressed you up to his front, grinding against you as he felt you up, groaning breathily into your ear.

"I have wanted your body since I first laid eyes on you," he whispered, hips slow and sensual in their grinding, "I can finally have you however I want. Oh, my angel, I'm going to render you useless by the time I'm done with you."

Your Cupid then grabbed you and led you to the bed, where you positioned yourself on your hands as knees as you usually did. Shaking his head, Jungkook stops you before you settle on the bed, instructing you to turn around and lay face up for him.

"No, beautiful. Turn to me. Want to see you. Want to make love to you while you look at me with those pretty eyes," Jungkook moaned against your lips.

There was not much warning before Jungkook slipped inside you. But it did not matter. Your body welcomed him with no struggle, having become far too thirsty for his touch in the weeks of your separation.

Out of all the times you'd made love, this was by far the most intimate. Jungkook love and caressed you with an inhuman infatuation in his eye, groaning any time you'd so much as look into his eyes as he pounded into you.

"Oh, my Psyche ... Love you so much ... Always loved you. Always needed y-you, oh fuck ..." his eyes closed in pleasure, pressing his face into your neck to breathe you in. His hips were incorrigible, with Jungkook being far too drunk with lust to have any finesse in his movements.

"My Jungkook ... My Cupid ... You pretty angel, I missed you so much, so- oh, so much!", you cried, your eyes becoming clouded with tears all while your nails dug into his back. You could feel the scars from which his wings would retract, caressing them softly.

"Oh ... Oh, angel, d-don't do that- My wings are too sensitive, my Psyche, d-don't ..."

This only encouraged you to do it more, caressing his erogenous zone softly and sensually, causing him to cry against your ear, whimpering in an ungodly way that had your eyes rolling back at just the sound.

Your pretty angel babbled against you, letting out nonsensical rambles about how much he loved you and how he could never let you go again. How he would breed you and give you an heir and bring you both to the land of the Gods with him.

Practically sobbing against each other, still grinding like mindless animals, the two of you found your highs together, continuing to stimulate each other throughout the entirety of your orgasms. Your mutual whimpers filled up the room, making the experience all the more erotic.

Finally, you two laid against each other, breathing heavily as you refused to let go of one another.

You were still beat and battered from your weeks in search of your Cupid, but that was the last thing on your mind. All you cared about was holding onto Jungkook and never letting go.

Holding you even closer against him, Jungkook wrapped himself around you, pulling out with a groan as he spooned you in his arms, breathing in your hair and humming against you. He reassured you about any worry you may have had in regards to your future together, assuring you that your injury to him had fully head and that he could never hold any type of negative feeling towards you for long.

You no longer would have to worry about his mother's schemes, Jungkook assured, as he would go to Zeus himself to grant you immunity amongst all Gods. He'd convert you into a Goddess yourself, he promised, so that he could give you a heavenly heir and grow old with you until eternity. Nothing in this world could ever separate Cupid from his beloved Psyche. Jungkook would never let anything keep him away from his one and only beloved.

"I adore you, my Psyche, my beautiful ruin. I will always protect you," he sighed one last time, eyes growing heavy as you turned around in his arms and cuddled against his warm chest.

"I love you my Cupid," you kissed at the small burn mark the oil of your lamp had left, humming against his chest.

You fell asleep calmly in each other's arms, knowing you'd wake up to an eternity of love between one another.

a/n: im sorry if the pacing seems all over the place but i promise this is how the original story goes 😭

to read short 3.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: afab reader, continuation and conclusion of the cupid and psyche lore/story (this is kinda like a pt. 2 honestly oops), impregnation, mentions of oral, jungkook is obsessed with reader its insane, pregnancy sex implied (but not really bc its after one day of the insemination lol), jungkook is a god so yk endless sex, smut, penetrative sex (like three times lol), etc.

wc: 639 (teaser); 3313 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Hmm, my beautiful Psyche," hummed Jungkook against you, stretching his body before cuddling further into you, absolute bliss in his voice.

After a night of extraneous love-making, Jungkook finally awoke in your arms, a smile instantly making its way onto his face at the remembrance of the previous night.

After having brought you back to the palace he built for you, he made love to you, finally able to look into your eyes as you both lost yourselves to the pleasure found in each other's touch. The thought of your gorgeous whines for him still made him shudder, having to will his boner away at the memory.

Then he thought about everything else that had happened since your separation.

He recalled all the trials you had gone through this past week, all to gain access to his heart, a heart that had belonged to you from the moment he laid eyes on you. It was hard not to feel immense guilt at knowing how badly you had struggled from the moment he left you alone in that palace, too hurt and stubborn to realize that your love for him would have you risking your life just for one more chance. In hindsight, he should've understood, specially considering that his own heart burned for you harshly enough for him to want to give up his Godly powers for you if he so had to.

Then he remembered the worst part of it all.

His mother was still seething with vengeance for you, not having found satisfaction in your death while completing her useless tasks. Jungkook knew that she never meant to even consider giving her blessing for the two of you to be together. It had all been a ruse to make you find your demise under the false pretense that you would somehow earn Jungkook's forgiveness by the end of it all.

What you didn't know was that Jungkook didn't need to forgive you. His love for you overpowered every other fleeting thought in his brain. One look from your remorseful eyes and he would be on his knees, begging you for forgiveness.

He pondered as he watched you sleep in his arms, blissful yet still wounded by your weeks of pain.

How shall he make up for all the suffering you endured while he recovered from his wound? How could he make amends for making you think for even one second that he'd dare try and live without you by his side?

His experience as a carnal lover had not prepared him for such feelings. There had been no training or preparation for him to understand the way you made his heart rush, the way you altered every aspect of his being.

All he could think about was how you were his beautiful Psyche and how ... how badly he wanted to put an heir in you.

The thought had seemed been sudden, but he had actually thought of it from the moment he found you waiting for him in bed that first night. You, full for him, manifesting the greatest form of love as you grew his seed inside you.

An heir would be the solution to all problems.

An heir would bring you an instant pass to the land of the Gods, forcing Zeus to turn you into a Goddess in order for you to birth a Godly child. It would also make his mother accept the gift he'd bring upon her, unable to deny a child created by the God of love himself. Lastly, this heir would also be his own gift to you – a showcase of his endless love for you and the future he was to create with you.

But most of all, it would quench the thirst Jungkook was currently feeling at the mere thought of marking you as his as humanly possible.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[n0tamused]

a proud elf fucker has come to disturb ur peace bbygurl smug tiktok emoji

so,,,, humans are more openly affectionate and touchy-touchy compared to the elves right? hand holding, smooching ur friends’ forehead or cheeks for good luck or saying goodbye or when showing u have missed each other or an arm around the other’s waist when comfortably sitting beside each other and chatting.

how would the elves react to this? like a human s/o (before courting) who is just generally so,,,,,,, affectionate (i dunno how many characters you would accept pookie but im mainly thinking of thranduil, legolas, feren and lindir for this)

expect me more in ur inbox pookie😚(a threat)

A/n: Come by my door again and I will throw you out (a warm meal awaits you inside). This is more of a ramble than really my usual headcanons that I do for characters. A reminder again - but I am a bit rusty with writing for these characters, so this is me rambling about them so I can explore them better. Unapologetically longer part for Legolas bc he is my bbg. Didn't do Feren for this one, but I hope to add his part on this prompt in the future. Hope you enjoy pookie!

Contents: Thranduil, Legolas, Lindir x GN!Reader (separate), fluff. not proof-read so expect grammar mistakes (very scary)

Words: 1471

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Thranduil

-Listen- Thranduil is hard to reach, he’s a tough nut to crack as one may say, and he is quite distrustful of strangers, but this is not a scenario where you’re a stranger to him, oh no. 

-While you have caught the interest of the elven king and as his knowledge is ever so deep on both elven customs and that of man, he can’t say he has ever indulged in the human customs quite so much. You sort of make him want to indulge in it all. 

-Thranduil is not the one to hastily discard his public image and reputation for the sake of a fleeting touch of fingers or a graze of your lips across his cheek in a farewell bidding, yet seeing you do so with your company with which you travel with makes him think.

-For a mind that has seen so many centuries and so many faces, you have made him feel as if the memories of friends of old and strangers came before his eyes only in preparation to see you. Quite weird, but it is what his mind makes him think. Were you sent to his path for a reason?

-And where do you get your baldness from, to try and touch him so easily? What makes you think that is proper? When have you become so brazen when just yesterday you seemed to struggle with speaking to him formally? 

-He does request your company alone from time to time, walks through the woods and dinnertime especially, and this opens way for more privacy and attempts at intimacy.

-Here, you’d find him more forgiving at accepting your advances

-He is still getting used to the feel which your hands leave behind after gripping his own hand or his arm, or the tug at his sleeve the poke of your fingers at his side - yet he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. It’s such a small change in his life, but it feels surreal to experience it all the same when he is so used to the generally the same routine and schedule, especially in his relations with others. 

-At the end of the journey of your outing, he’d return the gestures with one of his own, one a bit more subtle than yours, but he makes sure his kisses on your knuckles linger

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Legolas

-Humans are touchy, yes, Legolas has witnessed much of this displayed affection since he departed Mirkwood for his journeys, but what he felt when he saw all of it wasn’t shock or disgust like some of his peers felt when they saw these “crude and hasty customs” - rather he felt some longing instead, a yearning.

-He craves a close connection too, but he is hopeless in seeking it out in the world of mortals and he is a bit without a clue on how to develop such a closeness with someone. He wasn’t raised in a place where emotions are foreign, but as established before - human and elven customs do differ, and they both perceive emotions and displays of it differently. You can say Legolas fits a bit more into whatever human ways are of expressing emotions. Firm hand holds and tight hugs instead of brush of fingers and longing looks during long periods of courting. Man, Legolas just craves a strong friendship, let alone a relationship

-I think it would be safe to say Legolas is touch-starved in his own right, simply put

-So when you come along, and you both click as companions? He is quite happy to put it lightly. I don’t think there is an adequate term that can summarize his elven giddiness when he simply sees you being openly affectionate with your friends, he feels a sense of belonging since you are not a stranger he observed, but someone he has come to understand too. He knows your name, your story, what you do and don’t like

-Yet this doesn’t prepare him for when you show the same affection to him as well. Suddenly all lectures and elven courting rules and traditions come pouring in his head all within a blink of an eye and it is the first time you have seen him look so taken aback. 

-He doesn’t reject your advances however, he’s much more accepting of them than his father, and it is just you and your shared small company, sometimes not even them, that get to see this exchange. He is.. giddy, quite happy.

-It feels fulfilling sharing in the affections, although he is much more reserved than you by quite a lot - he tries though. He’d still absolutely love it if you accepted his proposal of courting, so he can court you properly and as you deserve. Please let him he is on the edge of his seat, he is about to fall off waiting

-Despite what he feels and how human his smiles and expressions have become since you began to pay him this attention, he is patient, he moves at a slower pace than you and he is your grounding rock when you become too hasty

-It is not a rare sight to see him draping his cloak around you, or - at your request - see him sitting next to you huddled under the same cloak or a blanket by the fire. Coziest he has ever been tbh…

-In some summary - your hands are held gently, your brows are kissed tenderly and you are well taken care of with him around

-(Please send me more Legolas thoughts or requests I love my bbg sm)

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Lindir

-Now this one is a little more dense. Denser than the Elven King? I hear you ask, and I say to you - possibly.

-Now, correct me if I am wrong, but he isn’t exactly too old, by elvish standards of course. He is relatively young by their norms, and has spent a lot of his time in Rivendell, serving Lord Elrond

-A very personal headcanon, take it or leave it, but he is even younger than Legolas.

-Anyhow, Lindir is quite dutiful in his work and doesn’t accept it comfortably when new energies are introduced to his environment. He can get quite skittish and tense when things aren’t going according to some mental plan he has set out in his mind, or even worse - if the events aren’t following a plan shared by him and the others. He is very keen on sticking to this familiarity of routine and stagnancy, in some way.

-So, note his surprise when you stick around and worm your way into his daily schedule.

-For a long while he swore to himself up and down how he will never get used to you, perhaps if you grew as old as he then he might, but your life was a flicker in comparison to his own

-He is even more surprised and confused when he sees himself looking for too long at you sharing hugs with your friends, bidding them goodbye and safe travels by kissing them hard on the forehead and trying to..wrestle them? What an odd thing to do to your friends..

-He is more baffled when you attempt to do the same to him. How could you?!

-He is an elf, an elf with standards!

-An elf with standards which you break through anyway since you’re so..infectious. Lindir had the funny thought, although it was a bit unsettling to him at the moment, that he was sick or fading/dying.

-In the days and months following, it took much effort to finally see the fruit of your labor. Lindir was finally, although still slowly, opening up to just spending more time with you instead of going by his strict routine that he played on repeat.

-He doesn’t sit three feet away from you anymore, but rather two and a half.. Not literally, of course, but the distance between you seems like it is miles with the way he sometimes acted in the beginning of these outings with you.

-The distance surely shrinks until he is actually next to you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he traces a small scar there which you claim you earned in your childhood. By elvish standards, humans are nowhere near perfection, but his thoughts have begun to change, and he no longer sees perfection in the standards he was raised with, but rather he sees it in you. Each little thing that separates you from another, and little by little he begins to sow you into his memory.

-He isn’t the best at remembering mortal souls, they all pass by quickly, but you linger and linger and he doesn’t want you to not linger. Linger with him by the fountain, will you? Let him ask you questions to distract himself from the fact your hand embraced his?

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[24hlevi]

not sure which characters u write about for arcane!! but if you do male characters, could be anyone of your choice where they don’t get the hint you like them or want to take their relationship further (depends if u wanna do sfw or nsfw!!) :) tyyy!

for male characters i write for jayce, viktor, ekko, and silco! thank you for requesting 🫶

— TAKE A HINT

viktor (arcane) x gn!reader

warnings/tags: oblivious!viktor, confessions, fluff, sfw

you thought you were going mildly insane, having a crush on your friend as his second partner to jayce

to be fair, you kinda were, judging how no matter what you did in attempt to give hints just led nowhere

you tried talking to jayce on a few occasions, trying to get some advice on what to do, but he wasn't much help with relationship stuff as he claimed

you tried over and over again to get viktor to notice you more than just a friend, and every time, he couldn't tell

"hey," you say softly, slowly approaching viktor from behind with a hot cup of tea in your hands.

viktor turns his head as soon as he hears your voice draw him out of his work, and a small smile grows on his face. "good evening, yn," he replies.

"i brought you some tea," you set the cup down carefully next to his papers that were scattered along the table. "have you ate anything yet?"

"thank you," viktor responds, his eyes following your hand as you set the cup down. "i have not," he then shakes his head. "jayce tried asking earlier, but i wasn't quite hungry."

"would you like me to try and make you something?" you ask, looking down at him as you fiddle with your hands anxiously.

"mm," he hums, shrugging his shoulders lightly. "i would prefer your presence here with me. if you don't mind, that is."

"i don't mind," you shake your head, trying to fight the smile forming on your face. "just tell me what you'd like me to do."

"nothing," viktor answers, having you look at him with confusion. "you don't have to do anything, precisely. just your presence is enough."

"oh...okay,"

you still couldn't figure out how to get viktor to realize you had feelings for him, you couldn't believe how oblivious he was

after years of liking the male, he didn't ever seem to appear like he reciprocated those feelings, making you slowly give up as time went by

it wasn't until one early morning, that it all finally fell into place

viktor slowly made his way to the lab. it was early morning, the sun hardly peeking out from over the horizon as he hobbled through the hallway. this morning, he was already thrown a bit off his rocker. for he hadn't seen you yet since he woke up. normally, you would be awake and moving before him and jayce, so it was odd to not see you around as he walked down the hall.

entering the lab, viktor turns on the lights, and then stops in his spot. there you were. your body slouched against the table with papers messily filled with calculations that viktor was doing the day prior, seemingly asleep. slowly, he approaches you and stands behind you, silently looking at you. the sun is shining against your face, and viktor comes to the realization that he never paid attention to how much he liked looking at you. you looked so peaceful like this, and he felt an odd sensation in his chest as he peered down at you.

suddenly, you start stirring around, slowly opening your eyes to see viktor standing above you. "mm? viktor?" you groggily mumble.

seeing you wake up, viktor, as fast as he can, takes a few steps back, his face turning red at possibly being caught. "s-sorry," he stutters.

your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. did he just stutter? you rub your eyes with your hands before blinking a few times to look at him clearer. was he...staring at you while you were asleep? while this would be extremely creepy if it were anyone else, you couldn't help but feel somewhat flattered by his reaction. you take a look around and realize you're in the lab. "oh gosh, i can't believe i fell asleep in here," you drag your hands across your face. "i'm sorry, viktor. i was trying to finish what you were doing yesterday."

"it is alright," viktor says after taking a moment to calm his heartbeat from jumping out of his chest. he then realizes what you said, and his face contorts into confusion, looking at the papers on the table. "you didn't have to. i would have figured it out by this week i'm sure."

"i just wanted to help more," you admit with a short sigh. "ever since you and jayce started this new development for hextech...i feel like i've fallen behind." you look down at all the papers in front of you in shame that you still couldn't figure it out.

viktor's expression changes again, no longer confused but a soft look as he notices the tone in your voice change. you sound almost defeated, clearly upset about this. hesitantly, he places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up at him. "it is okay, yn," he starts, his tone soft like his expression on his face. "you being here is enough for me. you do not need to prove yourself, for i already know how smart you are. do not worry of hextech if you fear you are falling behind. i appreciate your presence more than anything else."

looking up at him, you slowly nod your head and stand from your seat. you don't know what to say, but thankfully for you, viktor continues speaking.

"i have noticed some...changes in my thoughts recently," he says slowly, as if he were choosing his words carefully. "while they are primarily filled with ideas of hextech and how we could evolve the future...they are also about you. i want to create something that will help our future, that will help your future. these past couple of weeks...i have thought of you more. i thought it was normal at first...but the more i thought about what i was thinking about i..came to a realization." he sees the way you look at him with subtle confusion on your face, and he hesitates before continuing. "i believe i may have some kind of feelings for you, yn."

your eyes widen in shock, looking at viktor as he explains his thoughts, and you're not sure what to do. "what?" you quietly let out.

"yes, it appears to be that way," viktor nods. "just now, i have confirmed it. i may not have noticed it fast enough, and i sincerely apologize if i am too late now, but i had to get this off my chest before it would ruin me."

"o-oh," you stutter, a fiery blush growing on your face. "you-you're not too late," you say finally. "i've uhm, had feelings for you for a while now," you admit.

hearing this, a smile makes its way onto viktor's face. "really?" he asks.

"yeah," you nod. "i thought you were never going to notice or were purposely ignoring my attempts."

"ah," he lets out. "i would never purposely ignore you, yn," he says, pushing some of your hair out of your face. "let's just say i am a bit slow when it comes to these things. i apologize if i ever gave you the wrong idea."

"it's okay," you reply.

"well then, shall we establish this whilst we finish these calculations?" he has a smile on his face as he speaks, dragging another chair to sit down beside you.

"yeah," you nod, smiling back at him.

"great."

[neil-gaiman]

This may very well get lost in the flood, but if you see this, I just wanted to say that there were a lot of things I thought I wanted for good omens 2 (a happy ending for one, of course!)

But my favourite thing that a writer can do to my experience of a story is to make me go "okay forget EVERYTHING I said before, this is the outcome I didn't know I needed." This show took my hopes and said "no u don't actually :) i got something better" and it had the audacity to be SO RIGHT.

The finale I *thought* I wanted would have probably had me giggling and kicking my feet and then moving on with my day while in a bright mood for a bit.

The finale I got had me absolutely devastated, inconsolable for maybe an hour, and then just...immediately rewatching. And talking about it behind a fortress of spoiler tags. And writing, and drawing, and being invested in theories and trying to find all the easter eggs and just...falling in love with the story and the characters all over again. And I can tell that feeling will stay with me for a whole lot longer than a couple days.

I'm bad at brevity, I apologize! This is just a very long-winded way to say thank you (and thank you to everyone else on the team) for giving us these idiots (affectionately) to have Way Too Many Feelings about!! Thank you for sharing them with us.

I'm running GO in the background, crossing my fingers and looking forward to a season 3—whether or not it'll be what I'm *hoping* for, I am just beyond excited for whatever story it is that you want to tell us, and I trust that whatever it is, it will be wonderfully told! 🩶🩶

(But also, please, for your consideration...I am in fact soft and innocent, I can only take so much damage before I cry myself to critical dehydration—do with that what you must, I shall leave my electrolyte balance in your hands and hope for mercy. You did say everything would be okay, and thankfully we all know a writer would never lie!)

I wouldn't lie about that, anyway.

[redstarwriting]

pda/general affection hcs | i.

ft. hobie brown & miles morales

request?: yes

request: “Hiiii!!! I am absolutely IN LOVE with ur the clash series and I can't wait to see how it progresses!!! Could u do some pda/general affection hcs for the spider verse characters? I would love to see Miles and Hobie hcs but it's rlly up to whatever characters u would wanna write for. Endless thanks!!”

warnings:  language, cuteness, mentions of dying, mentions of injuries, mentions of throwing up, mentions of being overwhelmed

a/n: i love hcs lol this was actually how i first starting writing and it’s so fun bc i can be my sarcastic self without having to change any of it teehee, thank you for requesting anon! thinking of doing this for other characters to, what does everyone think?

i’ve made a pt ii. to this with gwen and pavitr if you wanna check it out!

───────────────────────────────────

hobie brown | spider-punk

pda

- he’s kind of a middle ground - not crazy about it - not against it at all - he just - hold onto your hats for this one - ✨he does what he wants✨ - ofc it also depends who’s company you’re in - if y’all are with Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr, he’s super comfortable and a part - of his body will always be touching yours - but it’s not like he’s goin out of his way to be like LOOK AT MY PARTNER - HOWEVER - if he’s ANYWHERE where there are authority figures? - *cough* miguel *cough* - he will just start to make out with you - LMAO - “Hobie, can you stop kissing your partner and listen to me.”   “No.”   “You’re aware of how rude you’re being?”   “Good.” - if you don’t like it ofc he won’t but he WILL be touchier with you in those moments - because it pisses people off - and he loves that - also if he felt threatened? - he’d probably get a little touchier than usual - but honestly he almost never feels threatened so who knows if you’d ever experience that - and if he did ever feel threatened he would feel better knowing that you always wear one of his studded bracelets - ppl will ask where you got it and you’ll be all - “Oh! My boyfriend Hobie!” - he loves seeing the hope drain out of anyone’s eyes when he appears behind you after that statement, he finds it so amusing every time - he’s only obsessed with a few things - like there is something he will ALWAYS do - he is OBSESSED and i mean OBSESSSSSEEDDD with having his hand in your back pocket - at all times - only if it isn’t around your shoulders (another obsession of his) - like y’all are going to one of his shows? - you enter with his hand in your back pocket - after gets offstage? - hand in back pocket - walking home? - hand in back pocket - sometimes y’all will walk instead of him picking you up and webbing back home JUST BECAUSE he wants to put his hand in your back pocket - he also LOVES using you as an armrest - if you’re short, he places his arm on your head like an armrest - if you’re average height, he’s still using your head as an armrest - if you’re tall or as tall as him he will climb a wall to use your head as an armrest - it gets you flustered and he thinks it’s adorable! - and eye contact? - he will keep his eyes trained on you at all times - he’s always looking at you - or else he’s looking for you - only looks away SOMETIMES when he’s talking to other people - “Hobie, I’m over here.”   “Yeah, I know.”   “So stop looking at them, I’m the one talking to you.”   “Yeah, but you ain’t the fittest person in the room so piss off, eh?” - that being said - there is something he just doesn’t do in public - he doesn’t hold hands - i do feel like he would hold pinkies with you upon request - but holding hands just isn’t his thing - in public👀

general affection

- THIS MAN HAS THE WORLD FOOLED - he acts all nonchalant about it - acts like he only does pda to go against societal rules - which he does BUT ALSO - he is so touchy - he isn’t clingy by any regard - but he LOVES being affectionate - just like the smallest things - every morning when y’all wake up in the same bed together and he wakes up before you (which is a lot bc he doesn’t sleep well) he will place a feather-light kiss somewhere on your face so he doesn’t wake you up - but like clockwork - he will do it - and after he will just lay there and hold you for a bit - even when during the night the two of you separate from each other he will always reach out for you during those times - and he will maneuver you back into his arms so he can just lay there with you for a bit - every time you ask him why he just tells you you make him a “bloody softie” - which yeah you do - but also - he gets scared when he comes home, you won’t be there - with his job that isn’t really a job and all, he gets so nervous that you’ll just be fed up with it and leave - or worse, you’ll be used as bait for him - bait which he would immediately take, of course - he even does it because he thinks about the possibility of him not coming home one day - and he wants you to feel like you were loved if that happens - he also just loves the little smile that comes to your face every morning - when you realize he’s done it again - and that is just ONE THING - he hates getting injured, but would lie if he said he hated getting patched up by you - when you’re cleaning his wounds with alcohol the two of you hold hands - he’ll squeeze when it stings and you’ll squeeze when you feel bad - so you’re kinda squeezing his hand the whole time - but you know how i said he doesn’t hold hands in public? - at home it’s a different story - watching tv? - hands are held - looking at the stars from the top of a building? - hands are held - throwing up after drinking too much? - hands are held - so is hair - and he rubs your back - you rub his - he adores back scratches (not when he’s throwing up just in general LMAO) - one thing he didn’t realize he loved so much until it happened was when he was sitting and playing his guitar on y’alls bed - just mindlessly finger picking some melodies - and you came up and sat behind him and put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his cheek and just - stayed there - it made him melt - he loves it so much - he especially loves it when you hum along - even if you can’t hold a tune - it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard he doesn’t care - you can expect him to be all over you the minute he gets back from being Spider-Punk - especially when he has a bad day - i could probably give more examples but this is already kinda long lmao oops

overall

- he LOVES affection - public and private - if he loves you, he’s gonna show it - he’s gonna scream it, literally and figuratively - everyone will know y’all are together - which he loves - but that’s not why he does it - he just loves you - and doesn’t care what other ppl think 🤭

miles morales | spider-man

pda

- omg this lil man is so awkward - i’m far older than him and he makes me think of how nervous and awkward i was at his age when it came to any type of romance - so i can see him being SO unintentionally awkward in public - he tries so hard to be cool - but omg - the tiniest thing will go wrong and he’ll go from 😏 to 😟 - everything is the end of the world until you assure him it isn’t - like the time he saw you outside around Brooklyn Visions Academy and thought it’d be so cute to go up behind you and cover your eyes and say “guess who :)” - except it wasn’t you - you were across the street and watched it all go down - he literally made eye contact with you the minute he tried to be cute - the HORROR on his face - he was immediately apologizing to the random person he just did that to - in the moment you were so confused - but when you and him were in his dorm and he was flailing his arms around -and yelling in lowercase explaining it? - oh my god - hilarious - he was all pouty when you started laughing so you had to attack his face with little kisses to make him cheer up - one would have done the trick but he was grateful for all of the ones you gave him regardless - or the time he went to wrap his arm around your waist during lunch because he wanted to be all cute in school and you turned around as soon as he put his arm out and tried to walk and his sturdiness and strength made you literally drop your lunch tray and the food went everywhere - and there you were again in his dorm as he was flailing his arms around and yelling in lowercase apologizing because you just got new shoes and he ruined it and— - shut him up with a kiss, would you? - a display of public affection that always happens though is you’re always in his jacket - to the point where he has two of the same jacket now so you guys can be twinning :,) - “Look, babe! Same jacket!”   “Oh my god wait! We’re gonna be so cute!”   “I know, right? Pretty smart and cute of me, huh?”   “Very smart and cute of you, Miles.” - he also loves to have his hand on top of yours whenever he can - he’ll do it in class - if y’all go out to eat - if he’s sketching and you’re next to him - and holding hands in public is a favorite of his - it’s very tiny things that he does because every time he tries something big something goes wrong - like opening a door for you and motioning you to go in before him - and always being ready to steady you if you would trip (which happens more than he thought it would) - and always fixing your necklace that he bought you for your birthday (with the help of Rio) when the little clasp comes down in the front - he’s constantly staring at you with a dopey grin on his face - literally will get called out in class because he’s just 👁👄👁 - and then he gets all flustered  - but the smile you get on your face letting him know you like him that much will relax him - will go from “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to draw attention to you!” to “yeah, you like that? imma do it more then.” - he’ll also pretend to drum on you with his pencils when you’re near him - especially if he has his headphones in - he likes to play this game where you guess which one of his songs he’s jamming out to - sometimes he says you got it right when you get it wrong just to see you get excited - and he doesn’t necessarily mean for this to be a public display of affection, - but his constant drawing of you is frequently watched by other classmates - the only person who has successfully seen his bold moves of affection is Ganke, and he pretends to gag every time lol

general affection

- he’s such an affectionate boy 🥹 - like i said, Ganke is the only one who successfully sees his physical affection plots work - he’s much smoother when people aren’t around - and yes, he has shown you the shoulder touch - you did it to him once and he short-circuited - i’m so serious he accidentally shocked you - but then he hugged and kissed you for like 40 minutes afterward cause he felt bad - so it wasn’t too bad of an experience - but when it comes to physical affection in private, he’s worlds better at it - any time he plays video games, whether that be with you or Ganke, he has his leg over top of yours - He loves watching movies with you where you lay your head on his lap and he just mindlessly draws little shapes on your shoulder - he also loves having you laying on top of him while y’all cuddle - it makes him feel safe (and he gets to steal soooo many kisses from you) - you’re kinda like his very own weighted blanket but not even because his spider strength makes you feel like a feather - but it’s also an easy way for him to keep a hold of you and feel like he’s protecting you - he also loves to take you web swinging - holding you super close and taking you to a tall building away from anyone who can see y’all - he loves that - sometimes he’ll have like a whole picnic type date set up and y’all will just have a cute lil date on the top of the one world trade center - he also loves having you over to his place - his parents love you - and you love them - they make him keep his door cracked when y’all are in there together but it’s mainly because they love to peek in and see their son so in love - Jefferson took like 74 pictures the first time he saw y’all napping together - And Rio took like 52 pictures when she caught the two of you on the roof of the building and he was playing you a playlist he made for you - he does that a lot but that was the first time Rio saw it - she was ecstatic lol - he occasionally will just poke you for no reason - and by occasionally i mean he does it constantly - “Miles? Why did you do that?”   “Do what?”   “I literally saw you poke me.”   “No, I didn’t”   “…”   “…”   “I did, you’re just so cute, I don’t know.” - he also loves drawing on your hand - the back of your hand has constant Miles doodles - sometimes it’s stuff like the two of your initals in a heart - sometimes it’s Spider-Man - sometimes it’s just whatever was on his mind - but you love your constant Miles hand drawings - and he feels like it’s some sort of way for other people to know you’re his - but when he does it it’s so cute - cause he’s so gentle - and no one is watching - but you’re sitting there and just smiling as he creates a work of art on your hand and the playlist he made full of songs that remind him of how you made him feel the first time he saw you is softly playing in the background - he calls them temporary tattoos and one day you’re going to actually get one of the doodles tattooed on you somewhere - he’ll probably have a heart attack from how much he loves it but hey that’s fine he’ll recover - speaking of he loves to draw with you - he doesn’t care about your skill level, he just loves to be creative with you - he also is very much all about making sure you’re eating - getting enough sleep - prioritizing yourself above everything else - and if anything is ever bothering you - he is There - he will always be there and it’s very comforting - he just wants you to be happy all the time and does his best to do so - and you feel the same - so any time the responsibility of Spider-Man is too much for him - or when his parents get on him because he’s hiding half of who he is - you’re there for him - often times after he comes home from a long day of Spider-Manning he’s the one who is being held, but you’re fine with that - cause he can be vulnerable with you and he needs it

overall

- Miles is getting the hang of being in a relationship - he really does love pda but is so bad at it lmao - when he gets better beware - you will be a melting mess in public all the time - but for right now it’s just behind the scenes where he’s able to show how he really feels - give him all the hugs he needs ‘em

[fartcloudfartcloud]

Do you mind doing a smut blurb about dry humping with Logan pls. I just need to read some dry humping with that man omfg

Tysm in advance you write Logan smut so well 😫😫 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Ofcourse I can lovely, and thank u so much omg im blushing. I'd do anything for this old man and if it were up to me I would have achieved atleast 1 nut on every inch of his body. you know how it is. I love writing dialogue so much, so I hope when I do it's like sexy and in character and not like ew why would he say that ykwim 😭😭😭 Also just realized u said dry humping and this is very much not dry, so if u want specifically some like over the clothes bumping and grinding I fuck with that too, just lmk 😋

Logan couldn't wrap his head around how so men come home to their beautiful girls, just to mistreat them. (he told me himself)

He couldn't imagine coming home and doing anything but pleasing whatever fresh faced beauty had burrowed their way into his heart.

Especially when that freshed faced beauty was as freshed faced and beautiful as you.

You'd fight him, shoo him away when he leers over your shoulder at your makeup routine and scold him when he's got his phone camera in your face. You'd never change his mind, no matter how hard youd try.

He didn't know how you could either, especially now when he's got you like this.

The room is hot and sticky as sounds of you and logans debauchery fill the room. The scene is nothing short of pornographic, since hes got you with your soaked core pressed into his thigh, your legs moving you in a mind numbing pattern.

Logans hands on your hips do most the work, though. He's got you pressed down in a way you're not sure you could sustain on your own, your hips locked back and clit taking most of the abuse, and it's driving you up the wall.

Your eyes are cast down, stairing at the fat of your pussy being smushed back and forth, leaving a slimy trail of slick to drip down the sides of Logans limb.

Logans eyes, however, have not left your face for a moment. You look jaw dropping like this, your head bobbing as your hands desperately grab onto whatever they can hold, your moans reaching a fever pich every time he applies just a little more force.

"You can take it, right baby?" The words don't make it past your lips, but you shakily nod and pant an audible "mhm".

"Atta girl," He praises, one hand coming up to grab your chin. He's got a goofy grin on his face, his pupils blown out and his hair falling into his face as he brings your eyes back up to his.

"There she is," His smile turns fond upon seeing your face again. His hand quickly returns to your hip and resumes his relentless assault on your core, this time his eyes locked on yours in an intimate embrace.

Not only can he smell it, but he can feel your impending climax. He can feel the way the slick is pouring from you, can feel the way your bud gets all stiff and sensitive. If nothing else, it was hard to ignore the way you shake like a leaf, your lungs void of air as it all overwhelms you.

"That's it right there, huh princess?" He asks, your voice becoming high pitched and whiney as you nod, your hands tightening on his tanktop.

"Let me see it baby. Don't take those pretty eyes off of me," He orders, picking up the pace, sprinting to bring you to your finish.

"Lo- its- mph~ i-im-" "shhh, just let it go," He whispers lowly, the sound going straight to your already buzzing center. It's not long before your eyes break his gaze, mindlessly rolling into the back of your head as the feeling consumes your body whole.

His hands don't falter, working you through your orgasm as you relentlessly shake and cry in his hands. Your face ties up, eyes now scrunched up and mouth dropped open in what is probably his favorite of all your looks.

He doesn't stop till you're twitching and squirming, whines going from orgasmic to almost painful as your whole core becomes sensitive.

"Fuck- Logan," you plead, wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face into your neck. You let out a deep sigh as you relax into him, feeling the waves of your release leaving you and being left with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

He wraps his arms around you too, comforting you with his big arms and firm embrace.

"You have fun, princess?" He teases, kissing the crown of your head and pressing his face against it.

You respond with a quiet "mhm", face refusing to leave his neck.

He holds you like this, whispering soft words of so good, so pretty, my baby, into your ears and making your mind get all floaty and soft.

hope u enjoyed!! thank u for the request, keep them coming I'm having so much funnn omg

[vivi4nn4]

Could you maybe do the brothers reaction to mc being terrified (or terrorized but some other demon whatever you come up with) and running PAST another brother going straight for him. Like he's THE safe space?? Thank you for your writing service

yes my lovely I think this request is so so cute! And honestly I think this is one of the worst works I’ve done so far but I have hope that maybe it’s not that bad but I apologise if it isn’t the best the more lower down the brothers I got the more I realised they become out of character but enjoy! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

The brothers reaction to being your safe space 𝜗𝜚 ⊹₊ ⋆

lucifer ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— lucifer as the sin of pride will be so pleased with himself he will go the whole day feeling high n mighty of himself

— lucifer will definitely protect you no matter what happened just like the rest of his brothers so no need to worry

— he loves , even adores the fact that you view him as your saviour n safe space it makes his pride shoot up his arse n out of his head

— he’s definitely going to use this knowledge to his advantage n in his favour the fact you choose him over anyone else

mammon ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— mammon would do anything to protect u n to keep u safe

— but seeing you run past his brothers n go straight to him gives him a funny feeling of happiness n satisfaction knowing you pick him

— he will definitely use it against you saying stuff like “ you picked me bcs im your first mammon “ “ obviously you knew the great mammon was the best brother “ “ the great mammon will always help you “

— on the other hand he will definitely laugh at you n poke fun for being scared

leviathan ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— leviathan would be so surprised he always thought that he would never be the one that you would run to for help

— all of his envy about the other brothers being your saviour n not him flew right out of his head

— not the mention how happy he would be in the inside he would be screaming like a fan girl knowing you choose him

— but that doesn’t mean he’s the best at it no no leviathan is middle ground he is sorta good at protecting you n knows that’s what he wants to do but doesn’t mean he is the best to do that job

— leviathans self doubt gets in the way a lot n this situation is no expectation but he will try his best!

satan ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— satan will be so happy that you chose him n he will your protecter forever

— Satan does everything to be there for you whenever you need wirh a hug or whatver else you want

— he will definitely stick up for you no matter who or what it is or what situation is happening

asmodeus ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— asmodeus is so full of himself after you choose him he definitely does round with a pep in his step for the rest of his week

— but after saving you he wants to be rewarded by going shopping or doing your makeup since he’s been so brave by protected you!

— asmodeus is definitely like leviathan he can protect you n will without hesitation but he’s definitely doesn’t go about it in the best way but don’t second guess him he is the 5th brother for a reason!

beelzbub ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— beelzbub oh beelzbub he is definitely the best choice , his kind nature , his big heart, his strength he is a protecter made from birth

— he did fight in the celestial war n he was a warrior and that pays off

— beelzbub would be so happy n his heart melts knowing you see him as a safe space n your protecter over his other brothers

— he’s an absolute sweetheart n will do anything for you you melt his heart in so many ways! But don’t underestimate him he is one if not the strongest of the brothers

belphegor ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺

— belphegor is lazy as we know but he will protect you don’t doubt it but in the most laziest way possible unless something that has angered him has happened then he’s ready n riled up

— even tho he is the sin of sloth don’t underestimate his power

— he will definitely laugh n make a joke to you about how you were scared ect he just loves seeing your flustered face

[jianwon]

Hiii! Could u do a roommate or best friend semi who secretly likes you however u have a lover so she doesn't show her feelings too much and maybe u had a fight/broke up with them so semi comforts you? You can choose how to end this! (also doesnt have to be smut)

closer than you think

sypnosis. when se-mi moves in with y/n, their unlikely friendship grows into something deeper. as y/n faces heartbreak, se-mi’s unwavering support reveals that love might have been beside her all along.

content— roommate!se-mi x fem!reader. pure fluff. mild angst. reader has a boyfriend. emotional distress. one-sided love. mentions of squid game characters.

a/n— thank you so much for the request anon! i genuinely had so much fun writing this! i hope this meets your expectations, enjoy reading :3

wordcount. 3.2k

when se-mi first moved into the dorm apartment with you, she had no idea how much her life was about to change.

at first, their dynamic had been straightforward. se-mi was the quiet, reserved type who preferred to spend her evenings locked in her room, practicing new tunes on her bass guitar, while y/n was the friendly, energetic whirlwind who could strike up a conversation with anyone, and anywhere.

“you’re going to love it here,” you had said on your first day together, your smile radiant as you unpacked boxes together. “i just know we’re going to be the best of friends!” se-mi had smiled politely, unsure of what to expect. but as the weeks turned into months, she found herself drawn to your warmth.

you had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel special. whether it was dragging se-mi to the convenience store for late-night snacks or convincing her to sing in the living room to terrible pop songs, you just had a knack for pulling se-mi out of her shell.

se-mi, in turn, became a quiet anchor in your life. she was the one who stayed up with you during stressful exam weeks, making you coffee and offering soft reassurances. she was the one who listened without judgment when you needed to vent about your problems.

somewhere along the way, se-mi realized her feelings for you had grown into something deeper. but by then, it was too late. you were already taken by someone else.

the apartment was already alive with the smell of coffee and the soft hum of music drifting from the kitchen when you stumbled out of your room, your hair a tousled mess.

“morning, sunshine,” se-mi’s voice floated over from the kitchen, smooth and calm, as if she hadn’t been awake for hours. you yawned, dragging your feet toward the source of the smell. “morning,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

se-mi stood at the counter, her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back in a loose half-up ponytail. she was frying eggs while keeping an eye on the toaster. “you’re up early,” you noted, leaning against the counter.

se-mi glanced at her, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “someone has to keep this place running while you sleep like a log,” she teased. you stuck your tongue out. “excuse me for needing beauty rest.”

se-mi chuckled, setting a plate of toast and eggs in front of you. “you’re already cute enough. no need to overdo it.” you could feel your cheeks burn, and quickly focused on the food. “shut up.." your voice barely above a whisper.

you ate breakfast together, your conversation light and easy as you talked about your plans for the day. se-mi couldn’t help but steal glances at you, who seemed to glow in the morning light.

afterward, you settled into your usual weekend routine. you dragged se-mi out to a nearby park for a walk, chattering away about a funny incident at uni while se-mi listened with a small smile.

"you’re not even paying attention!” you accused, poking se-mi’s arm. “i am,” se-mi replied smoothly. “your classmate tripped on his own shoelaces and blamed it on your laptop charger.”you laughed, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “okay, fine. you’re listening.”

the day passed in a blur of shared moments. groceries, laundry, a quick detour to your favorite café for iced drinks. everything about your routine felt natural, comforting, like pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together.

the dorm apartment was unusually still, the soft hum of the city outside the only sound filling the quiet. se-mi sat on the couch, her legs stretched out lazily as she scrolled aimlessly through her phone. her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, a faint crease forming on her otherwise calm face.

7:30 pm. you were supposed to be home two hours ago.

her thumb hovered over her phone screen, considering whether to text, but she resisted. instead, she locked her phone and leaned her head back against the couch. the silence felt heavier than usual, and though se-mi would never admit it out loud, she hated the way the apartment felt so empty when you weren't around.

both of you had planned this evening all week. pizza, your favorite show, and a late-night chat about anything and everything. se-mi had looked forward to it more than she cared to admit. but the way time dragged on hinted at what she already suspected: you weren't coming home on time.

the faint sound of keys jingling reached her ears, and se-mi immediately sat up straighter, her cool expression slipping back into place. the door clicked open, and there you were. you stepped inside, your usual cheerful energy noticeably dimmed.

“you’re late,” se-mi said, her tone light but sharp enough to convey her displeasure. she leaned back against the couch, feigning nonchalance even as her eyes lingered on your face.

you paused mid-step, a sheepish grin forming instantly. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, se-mi.” closing the door behind you, placing your bag on the counter. “my boyfriend wanted to introduce me to his friends, and, well… i couldn’t say no.”

him.

se-mi didn’t let her smile falter, though the familiar pang of disappointment twisted in her chest. she shrugged, crossing her arms casually. “it’s fine,” she replied, her tone cool, though it wasn’t. “guess the show can wait another day, it's late.”

you plopped down on the couch beside her, leaning close enough that se-mi could feel the faint warmth radiating from you. the proximity was both comforting and torturous.

"i really am sorry,” you said softly, tilting your head to meet se-mi’s gaze. “i’ll make it up to you. promise.”

se-mi chuckled, the sound low and teasing. “you always say that,” she murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. her fingers lingered for half a second longer than necessary before pulling away. “but i guess i can’t stay mad at you. you’re lucky you’re cute.” you laughed, cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “you’re the best, se-mi. seriously.”

se-mi simply smirked, but her heart ached in ways she couldn’t control.

this wasn’t the first time you had canceled plans because of your boyfriend, and se-mi doubted it would be the last. it had become a pattern: you would enthusiastically make plans with se-mi, only to break them at the last minute when your boyfriend demanded your time instead.

se-mi had grown used to the disappointment, though that didn’t make it sting any less. it wasn’t just about the canceled plans, it was about the way your boyfriend treated you. se-mi had seen it firsthand. the dismissive comments, the controlling behavior, the way he always seemed to chip away at your bright energy.

and yet, se-mi never said a word. she knew her place.

late at night, when the apartment was quiet and you were asleep in your room, se-mi would stare at the ceiling, imagining a different reality. one where you weren't with someone who didn’t deserve you. one where you saw her, truly saw her as more than just a friend.

but that was just wishful thinking.

it was late in the evening when your phone buzzed on the coffee table. you glanced at the screen and sighed, your shoulders slumping.

nam-gyu.

“your boyfriend?” se-mi asked, her voice neutral but her gaze sharp. you nodded, picking up the phone but hesitating before unlocking it. se-mi could see the conflict in your eyes.

“what’s wrong?” se-mi asked softly, setting her guitar down and turning her full attention to you. biting your lip, your fingers tightening around the phone. floods of ranging messages overtaking your screen.

“he’s mad at me,” you admitted. se-mi raised an eyebrow. “why?”

"i don’t know,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “he just… he says i don’t make enough time for him. that i’m always with you instead.” se-mi’s heart clenched at the words. she had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed still stung.

“i don’t understand,” you continued, voice breaking. “i try so hard to balance everything, to make him happy, but it’s never enough.”

se-mi reached out, gently placing a hand over your hand. “hey,” she said softly. “it’s not your obligation to make him happy all the damn time. if he can’t appreciate how amazing you are, that’s on him, not you.” your eyes filled with tears, and she quickly wiped them away.

“you’re always so supportive,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

se-mi swallowed hard, her heart aching for her friend. “you deserve someone who makes you feel like you’re enough,” she said quietly, her thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. "i’m just tired.." you whispered, leaning into se-mi’s touch.

se-mi nodded, her hand tightening slightly. “then rest,” she said softly. “i’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.” you nodded, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

you leaned against se-mi’s shoulder, and both of you sat like that for a long time, the silence between you filled with quiet understanding.

you stared at the darkened phone screen, chest tightening with a mix of relief and ache. the quiet of your room suddenly felt suffocating, the weight of nam-gyu's words still hanging in the air. drawing in a shaky breath, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill.

for a moment, you didn’t move, your mind replaying the conversation over and over again. you had known for a long time that things between you and nam-gyu weren’t right, but hearing the words aloud "you know what? we’re done." made it all feel real in a way you weren't sure you were ready for.

a soft knock at your door broke the silence. “y/n?” se-mi’s voice called gently from the other side. “i heard you shouting from across the living room, is everything okay?”

you hesitated, fingers brushing over the phone in your lap before setting it aside. “yeah,” you said, your voice unsteady. “just… give me a minute.”

there was a pause, and then se-mi responded, her voice quieter. “i’m here if you need me.”

you closed her eyes, the tears finally spilling over. the warmth in se-mi’s words was a stark contrast to the coldness you had just experienced. you wiped your cheeks quickly, not wanting to let the weight of the conversation linger any longer than it already had.

a minute later, you opened the door to find se-mi standing there, her brow furrowed with concern. “what’s wrong?” se-mi asked, her voice soft but steady.

shaking your head, trying to muster a smile. “it’s nothing. nam-gyu and i had a fight... again."

“what did he say?” se-mi’s expression darkened slightly, her jaw tightening. “it doesn’t matter,” you said quickly, stepping aside to let se-mi in. “it’s over now. we’re over.”

se-mi’s eyes widened, and she immediately reached out, resting a comforting hand on your arm. “are you okay?” you let out a shaky laugh, brushing at her face again. “i don’t know. i think so? i mean… it’s probably for the best, right?”

se-mi didn’t respond right away. instead, she guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, sitting beside you. “if it’s what you decided, then yeah, it’s for the best,” she said firmly. “but it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt.”

you nodded, lips trembling as you tried to keep yourself together. “it’s just… he made me feel like everything was my fault. like i was the reason we weren’t working.”

“he’s wrong,” se-mi said immediately, her voice sharp in a way you didn’t hear often. “you’ve done nothing but try to make that relationship work. if he couldn’t see that, that’s on him.”

the conviction in se-mi’s voice brought fresh tears to your eyes, but this time, they didn’t feel as heavy. you let out a deep breath.

“thank you..” you whispered.

se-mi didn’t reply right away, but her arm came up to wrap gently around your shoulders, holding you close. “you don’t have to thank me,” she murmured. “i’ll always be here for you, y/n. no matter what.” and for the first time that night, you felt like you could finally breathe.

"you’re going to be okay,” se-mi said, her voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded slowly, the weight on your chest easing with every word se-mi spoke. “it’s just… i gave so much to that relationship, you know?” you said, your voice cracking. “and it still wasn’t enough.”

se-mi’s hand dropped to yours, her fingers curling around it in a reassuring grip. “that’s because he didn’t know how to appreciate you,” she said, her tone firm. “you gave him everything, i've seen it all and that’s why, it's not your fault.”

your fingers tightened around se-mi’s as you let out a shaky breath. “you always know what to say,” you murmured. “that’s because i care about you,” se-mi replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “more than you realize.”

the words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. your eyes searching se-mi’s face. “se-mi…”

se-mi’s smile faltered slightly, but she held your gaze. “i just… i hate seeing you hurt,” she admitted. “you deserve to be with someone who makes you feel loved. who puts you first.”

as both of you sat there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence, the weight of the past began to fade, replaced by the quiet, unshakable hope of something new.

over the next few weeks, se-mi devoted herself to helping you heal. she dragged you out for walks in the park, tried every café in town, and even endured cheesy romantic comedies just to see you smile again.

one afternoon, as you wandered through a small bookstore, se-mi handed you a novel. “this one’s about a girl who finally realizes the perfect person for her was in front of her all along,” she said with a sly smile.

you rolled her eyes but took the book. “are you trying to make me cry again?”

“maybe,” se-mi teased, her smirk softening into something warmer. “or maybe I’m just reminding you of something important.”

it had been months since your breakup. the apartment had regained most of its usual warmth, though there was still a lingering heaviness in the air.

se-mi had been patient, giving you space to heal while quietly supporting you in every way she could. but tonight felt different. there was a nervous energy coursing through se-mi’s veins, an urgency she couldn’t quite explain.

you were both sitting on the couch, the faint glow of the television casting soft shadows across your faces. a bowl of popcorn sat forgotten, and you were laughing at something on the screen.

se-mi wasn’t paying attention to the show. her eyes were fixed on you, her heart pounding in her chest.

“y/n.." she said, her voice cutting through the laughter. you turned to her, your smile fading slightly at the seriousness in se-mi’s tone. “what's up?” se-mi hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

she had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her head, but now that it was here, the words felt heavy on her tongue.

“i-i need to tell you something,” she began, her voice quieter than usual. “and i need you to promise you’ll hear me out.”

your brows furrowed in concern, shifting closer to se-mi. “of course. what’s going on?” se-mi took a deep breath, her hands clenching into fists in her lap. "i like you,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “more than a friend.” you blinked, your eyes widening. “you… what?”

“i've liked you for a long time,” se-mi continued, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “probably longer than i should have. but i didn’t say anything because you were with someone else, and i didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

her gaze dropped to her lap, unable to meet your eyes. “but i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way. not when i see you every day, and not when i know how much better i could treat you if you’d just let me.”

the room was silent except for the faint hum of the television. se-mi’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “se-mi… i-i don’t know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” se-mi said quickly, lifting her head to meet your gaze. “i just… i just needed you to know. and no matter what you decide, i'll still be here for you. always.”

your expression was a mix of emotions. confusion, surprise, and something else that se-mi couldn’t quite place. slowly, a small, tentative smile began to form on your lips. “you're so stupidly perfect, you know that?” you said softly, leaning closer.

se-mi blinked, caught off guard. “what?” you chuckled, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “you're always there for me. always putting me first, even when you don’t have to. it's hard not to notice, se-mi.” se-mi’s breath hitched, her heart soaring. “does that mean…?”

you raised a hand, gently brushing your fingers against se-mi’s cheek. “i don’t know yet,” you admitted, your voice tinged with uncertainty. “but i promise i'll think about it. i just… need time.”

se-mi nodded, her throat tight with emotion. “take all the time you need.” you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to se-mi’s cheek, lingering for just a moment before pulling away. “thank you,” you whispered, smiling warmly.

se-mi’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face. “of course.”

the days that followed were different. there was a subtle shift in the air between the both of you, a new kind of tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

se-mi found herself hyper-aware of every little moment. every time your hands brushed, every shared glance, every teasing comment that lingered just a bit too long. you seemed to notice it too. you started seeking se-mi out more often, your smiles softer, your laughter brighter.

your “friend” dates became more frequent, and se-mi couldn’t help but notice how you would lean into her touch just a little more than before.

one afternoon, as you sat in your favorite café, se-mi caught you staring at her. "what?” se-mi asked, raising an eyebrow. you shook her head, a small smile playing on your lips. “nothing. just… thinking.”

“about what?” you hesitated for a moment before leaning forward, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “about how lucky i am to have you.” se-mi’s heart skipped a beat, but she managed to keep her cool. “you better be,” she teased, smirking. “i'm not this nice to just anyone, you know."

you laughed, the sound warm and familiar. and for the first time in a long while, se-mi allowed herself to hope.

a/n— requests are always open!