#stupid (affectionate) i must clarify

[cuz-reasons]

Yall aren't even ready for the dumbest (affectionate) fic I've ever written

[whateverwillbewilderme]

Ford f*cks you in the name of science

Word count:2085

Warnings:F/M, medical kink, medical experimentation, examination, sexual experimentation, dubious consent, internal camera, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, friends to… something, sexual inexperience, bad sexual conduct in general

You gotta love Ford really. He’s smart, kind, and handsome too. There’s lots to love about a man who loves his family and only strives to be better for the sake of them and science. But god damn can he be stupid sometimes.

“Naturally, I’ll compensate you for your help today [name],” Ford says more professionally than the situation calls for. More than it deserves actually. It’s hard to be professional when your legs are up in stirrups and the only thing shielding your crotch from being visible to Ford is a thin sheet he gave you.

“And why exactly do you need to study my vagina ford?” You ask brusquely.

“Well- not your vagina exactly, your pelvic muscles. I need to see how your muscles react to certain stimuli.” He seems to stammer a bit at the bluntness of your question. But his answer seems ‘sciencey’ enough for you to believe he has no dubious intentions.

He turns away from the janky examination chair he set up for you and grabs what could be confused for a vibrator bullet connected to a long wire from his desk. “I made this specifically for this study, using the simplistic design of a common bullet vibrator with a hidden camera!” It’s odd how proud Ford is of his little creation, holding it up like it was the newest phone that everyone would go crazy over. “I will insert this inside you to capture the movements of your vaginal canal while the stimuli is in motion.” He explains naturally, his genius mind on science-mode (as you heard Stanley call it affectionately).

“So you’re gonna make me cum to see how my body reacts from the inside?” You clarify.

“Precisely my dear!” He says, proud that you understand. “I’m sure this will be helpful in my studies of reproductive biology in anomalies in gravity falls! If I completely understand coitus from a human perspective I can use it as a basis for my hypothesis for anomaly breeding!”.

You decide that this is weird and Stanford is way too excited to do this. But he is a good friend, so you suppose you can suffer through the awkwardness of letting your best friend make you cum. “ I guess that sounds reasonable.”

“Wonderful [name]! We must get straight to this!” Of course no foreplay. Ford's hands eagerly pull the sheet covering you off quickly, leaving you to try and clench your thighs closed instinctively. The stirrups hold strong enough against your attempt though and your movements are hopeless.

Ford turns back to his desk, fiddling with the computer to turn on his insertable camera. Once making sure it works correctly, he grabs a plain bottle of lube coating the metal frame of the camera completely before turning back to you. “Now, are you ready?” He says, excited to continue his experiment. You can only nod once before the tip of the camera is pressed against your entrance. A sharp intake of air and a grunt is enough to get Ford to slow down. “Sorry- sorry- should I have been slower?” Ford asks genuinely. “Fuck yeah, Ford! No prep or nothing?” You growl, “You’re this old and you still don’t know it’ll hurt if you force something inside me?”

The lubed-up camera almost slips out of Ford's six-finger grip as you reprimand him. In his defense, he does look guilty. “I’m sorry- I’m very unaware of human women’s body behavior- I wasn’t particularly popular with women when I was younger and the aliens I came across only copulated to reproduce.” He explained. For the first time, his cheeks flush a little in embarrassment. “You- you might have to teach me how to ‘warm you up’.” He infers, unsure of how to refer to the act. A sigh escapes you as you realize this is probably gonna be longer than you wanted it to go for. “God- okay. Grab the lube again, and put that damn camera down.” You order. He follows the orders quickly, dropping his precious invention on a medical tray and returning with the bottle, looking at you eagerly waiting for the next order. “Fuck… okay now did you bring an actual vibrator or something?” You ask, ashamed that this is a conversation you have to have. “Why would I?” He says obliviously.

What.

“Ford, what were you going to use to stimulate me exactly?” You ask exasperated.

“My penis of course?” He responds as if you asked a dumb question. “This is to study breeding habits in creatures, so I need to see how you react to an actual penis, not some plastic toy that goes vroom.”

“So you were going to fuck me. You were going to fuck me and you didn’t even tell me?” Ford immediately understands how fucked that sounds.

“…”

he’s embarrassed now.

“I understand where your worry is coming from now.” He mutters.

You sigh, almost ashamed at how dumb this genius could be. “Ya know what it’s fine. Totally chill.” You say, trying to convince yourself. “Let’s just get this over with.” He only nods silently, still too ashamed to say anything else.

“Put some lube on your fingers and s-start rubbing my…” you can only gesture to your crotch, too embarrassed to fully speak out the steps. He covers his index and middle fingers with a generous amount of gel but hesitates to actually touch. He lets out a shaky breath before the pads of his sticky fingers press down on your clit, slathering some of the lubricant over the small bundle of nerves before rubbing small circles over it.

It’s a shame how unsexy this scenario is because his hands do feel really good. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you��ve been properly fucked. Your breath hitches as he caresses you gently, putting down a little more pressure when he notices your breath change. “Yeah- like that.” You choke out, trying to keep any moans from slipping past your lips. You can feel a pulse in your core, and when ford drags his fingers down your slit they come back glistening with a layer of your arousal coating them. Ford continues the motions for a few minutes, getting the hang of the movements well enough that your thighs tense around the edges of the leg rests. “You- you can try slipping a finger in. Gently.” You say, biting down on your lip. He doesn’t nod or say anything, just moving his attention to your weeping hole. His eyes are trained on the whole mess between your legs, as if creating a mental diagram of what your messy pussy looks like right now. He pushes his index finger in, slowly moving it in deeper until he’s in at the knuckle.

“Fascinating. Your muscles relax as stimulation is given, allowing for more to be inserted.” He mumbles to himself. Removing his hand, he grabs the forgotten and cold camera. “Forgive me, but I think it’s best we start using this now before we go to far ahead.” He insists. Luckily this time there’s no resistance, and it slips in easily, your walls forming around it. His eyes are trained towards the monitor showing the feedback of the camera. His fingers slip back in, now two instead of one. Clenching your eyes shut and breathing deeply, a small moan escapes past your lips as ford watches the screen, moving his fingers at a steady pace. “Good. Good. You’re clenching around them you know? Oh well I’m sure you do know, you probably feel it more than I do.” He says, mind on auto pilot.

“F-fuck…”

“Hmm? Is this affecting you now? It must be since your body is responding so strongly. You’re wet too. I knew women created their own lubrications but this is more than I expected. My fingers are soaked [name].” It’s terrible how good he sounds when he’s not even trying to talk dirty. You can’t help but let your noises out now, you’re lightheaded from keeping them in for so long. “Ah- ford- it’s just a lot-“ you try and say between cries of pleasure.

“If this is a lot how will you take my cock, hmm? Please just be good and let me continue with my studies a little longer, okay?” He asks, voice low and intimidating, but so fucking hot.

He removes his fingers and while he initially moves to wipe the slick off of it on his pants, he curiously brings them to his lips, licking off whatever juices still soaked him. “How… interesting.” He simply says. “We’ll have to do this again. I’d like to see how you react to oral stimulation next time.” He suggests, his (now clean) hands reaching to undo his belt next. Pushing down his pants and underwear In one motion his cock springs up, already hard.

Looking down at it you can’t help but be a little intimidated. Fords not exactly a small man, and his manhood isn’t either. It’s a nice and satisfying 7 inches or so and delightfully girthy. Little grey curly hairs bunch up around the base of it but it doesn’t make his cock any less attractive. Too busy ogling at his member, ford smirks as he lines himself up to your entrance. “I’m glad you like it.” He says cockily. Ford grunts as he thrusts in slowly, his inches stretching you further despite the prepping. His hands grip down onto the chair as he forces the rest of his length inside. “Fuck- i get it now. Your- so fucking tight!” He growls, leaning over you in a pure display of dominance.

“You’re squeezing me so well you know?” He rasps. his hand takes your chin and forces your gaze on the monitor. “Look. Do you see how your body reacts to me?” It’s impossible to speak right now, head to hazy to think about forming sentences right now. All you can manage to mumble out is a “uh-uh” between moans, eyes trained on the camera feed showing fords cock piston in and out of you.

A particularly harsh thrust causes the tip of fords cock so deep that it bumps against your cervix. It hurts, but the pain mixes deliciously with the immense pleasure you also feel that you decide you don’t mind. “Ford-“ you cry out, walls spasming as you cum, muscles tightening around fords cock. “There it is… that’s what I wanted to see…” he growls, watching the screen intently. Looking back down at you, ford grips down on your hips hard and thrusts faster, chasing his own high now. The change in pace makes your thighs shake, moaning wildly as he pummels into you. “See? I said you’d be compensated didn’t I? Doesn’t this feel good darling? If you like this maybe I can tempt you into joining me in some more studies. You’d like that wouldn’t you [name], always such a good friend…” he moans, getting off to his own words. “Fuck- fuck- fuck- my good little experiment-“ he moans before shoving himself in as deep as he can, burying himself in your pussy as he cums, The sudden feeling of fullness choking you. The camera view is blurred by white as he fills your pussy up, some even leaking out of you and dripping onto the chair.

A few moments pass before either of you even attempt to speak, the only sounds in the lab being pants for air. You’re disappointed when ford pulls out of you, followed by a stronger drizzle of his cum pooling out onto the table too. “Hah- thank you for your participation in this project [name].” Ford sighs, cock still twitching. You can only mutter an “Uh-huh…” as you come back down from your high. Ford turns to his computer again to turn off the camera feed, grabbing a clean towel from the medical cart beside him and turning back to you. Pulling out the camera by its cord, he tosses it onto the cart before he spends some time toweling you down.

“I enjoyed this, enjoyed you dear. For more than the science.” He admits, his eyes meeting yours. “I um- I did too ford. Did you really mean it when you said you wanted to do this again?” You ask, pulling your tired legs down from the stirrups. One of fords hands grabs one of your legs as you pull it down, then he leans in and leaves a kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“Dear… I’d love to do this again.”

[shares-a-vest]

Pineapple Breath & Onion Boy (Read on ao3)

wc: 1.2k | Rated: T for Flirtatious Banter/Suggestive Language | cw: Mild reference to Period-Typical Homophobia (if you squint - Eddie is just conscious about being affectionate with Steve in a public space), Food Mention, Inferred Smoking (Eddie is playing with a lighter)

Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Pizza, Contemplating the Future, Side Clarkson, Pet Names, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Domestic Fluff, Lightest Angst in the first half

Note: Working on my drabble yesterday had me rudely confronting myself with a Drafts. Buuut it gave me the motivation to come back to this one! Yay writing!

-🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕-

Eddie leans back on one of the faded red plastic chairs outside Gino’s Pizzeria and flicks his cigarette lighter.

He then turns it off, then back on again. Then off again… Anything to distract himself from the desperate grumbling in his belly – a feeling that has grown painful now that he can smell pepperoni wafting outside.

The chair gives a warning wobble beneath him, the back legs of the thing holding his weight as he looks up at Steve, who looks all cozy in his cream-coloured corded sweater and maroon jacket. Even if he is standing there with his arms folded and a frown knitting his brows as he looks on down Main Street.

Wayne and Scott had disappeared in that direction a few minutes ago, trekking down the block to fetch their Chinese takeout, while Eddie and Steve waited for their pizzas.

Pizzas plural. Because Eddie refuses to partake in Steve’s new and frankly, disgusting preference for pineapple.

It has been their little quartet’s Friday Night routine for a couple of months now and Eddie thinks he must end up looking the same each and every time: staring up at his boyfriend. Steve looks pretty as a picture as his eyes glisten under the streetlight and his breath puffs out in a feint cloud in the crisp night air.

He looks a dream, really.

Not that he ever looks anything less, thank you very much!

Eddie knows Steve is lost in some thought, the kind that pinches his brows together and downturns his mouth into a mindless pout rather than one that is truly grumpy.

At least Eddie thinks it’s all that before Steve sucks in a breath and sighs, deep and wistful as his beautiful hazel eyes grow bigger.

That look makes Eddie tip forward in his chair with a sharp snap. He shoves his lighter back into the breast pocket of his leather jacket, frowning himself now as he tilts his head to the side, hoping to catch his boyfriend’s attention.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

He is met with silence for a moment before Steve gives a soft and wistful sigh.

“You think when we’re old, we’ll be like Wayne and Scott?” Steve asks, still looking down the street.

“Jesus Christ, no!” Eddie scoffs, “I don’t plan on gettin’ old.”

Steve whips around and looks down at him with an even deeper frown and, yep – that’s a Worried Pout.

“What?” he near whimpers.

Eddie jumps up, groaning a little as his back pangs with deep regret over him tilting back on that stupid rickety chair. He waves a hand nonchalantly.

But Steve doesn’t budge. He looks hurt.

Eddie steps into his personal space and offers a small smile - one that he knows will showcase his dimples and make Steve melt like mozzarella cheese.

“Y’know what I mean,” he clarifies, “I do not intend to become some old fart, whose idea of a good time is going on a fishing trip while his boyfriend collects frogs.”

Steve somehow tightens the fold of his arms as he looks him over.

“Eddie, you like looking for frogs,” he retorts, his brows easing up a little, “Anyway, don’t you think they’re cute?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Oh, here we go.”

“I mean it,” Steve defends, “Scott gets home from school and putters about for a while. Then, he finishes up some work exactly one hour before Wayne walks in the door. And then, they go about deciding on their takeout order – even though they always get the same thing! And when we get home, they’ll eat in front of the television, Wayne will clean up and then they watch the TV until Wayne starts to doze off and they go to bed.”

He finishes up with a sigh and looks back down Main Street again, appearing a little sheepish now as if he got a little too carried away with his longing there for a moment. It’s a look that tightens something in Eddie’s chest – one that makes him step even closer.

Or at least as close as he should get to his boyfriend out on the main thoroughfare of Hawkins.

He sucks in a breath and looks ahead too, wanting to kiss that look off Steve’s face.

But for the moment, he settles for a bump to the shoulder.

“We’re gonna be all that one day, aren’t we?” he says just above a whisper.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, upbeat but nonetheless quiet.

Eddie leans in, “Follow me, sugar.”

He tugs on Steve’s jacket sleeve and promptly spins on his heel to disappear around the corner of the building. The dumpsters behind the local pizza shop aren’t the most romantic of settings ��� but sue him for having a Rolodex of potential public makeout spots at the ready.

Eddie can feel Steve’s warm breath on his neck as they reach the far end of the building, sending a shiver down his spine. He turns to lean against the wall and palms around for any part of Steve to come along with him.

Steve crowds him against the building and as soon as he pushes them flush together, Eddie becomes all too aware of how whisps of his hair stick to the cool brick behind him. He gasps.

“Oh, no! What if I lose my hair!” he shrieks.

Steve grumbles, insulted, “What if I lose my hair?”

“Wha-cha – Stevie!” Eddie splutters, “My hair is just as important as yours!”

Steve smirks and reaches for his hairline, brushing back his bangs. He scrunches his nose.

“Hmm,” he hums with closer inspection, “It’s looking okay… for now.”

Eddie hisses at him.

“Get your damn dirty paws off-a me,” he grouses. Eddie flicks his bangs back into place with an exaggerated hmfph before he straightens up and snakes his arms around Steve’s middle, pulling him tighter still, “Steve, I promise as I stand here before you, behind the hallowed halls of Gino’s Pizzeria – ”

“ – Eddie, the owner’s name is Frank.”

“Fine! Frank – he of bountiful cheese and delicious tomato sauce. I do declare that I will still love you, even if I turn into a balding old grump with a permanent frown and bad knees.”

“And will you still love me if I become a middle school teacher, all chipper and cheery?”

“Meh, that wouldn’t be so bad,” Eddie shrugs.

“What if I grew a moustache?” Steve grins.

“That’s taking it too far!” Eddie practically shouts, squeezing the air out of his boyfriend in the process.

Steve gives a wheezing giggle as he runs his thumb and index finger over the soft stubble he has above his plush top lip. Eddie captures the mocking digits in his own hand and bites down, earning a wicked whine.

Steve shivers and gives a warning, “Edward…”

“Now,” Eddie begins, lowering the register of his voice, “Ravish me!”

Steve leans forward and presses the most chaste of kisses to the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll ravish you later,” he pulls back and winks.

But Eddie recoils, nearly knocking his head back against the pizzeria’s brick wall.

“When you have pineapple breath?” he spits with a dramatic grimace.

“Says you, Onion Boy.”

“Fine,” Eddie relents, “We’re both stinky.”

The rusty bell of the pizza shop’s front door sounds and Eddie is sure Wayne and Scott have already made it back, always more efficient in calling ahead with their own takeout order.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Steve smiles, lacing their fingers together.

[cheynovak]

 A Night to Remember 

Part 2: In the spotlight  

Jensen Ackles x F/Reader Y/N     

Warnings: On screen chemistry, sexual tension, unfaithful, ...    

Side note: English isn’t my first language 

--  

When a candid photo of Jensen Ackles and his co-star Y/N sharing an intimate moment goes viral, it threatens to upend the actor's carefully balanced life.  

Jensen must navigate the fallout and confront his true feelings.  

As he and Y/N strive to set the record straight, they are forced to examine the boundaries between professional connection and personal emotion.  

Will their flirtation under the spotlight lead to lasting consequences, or can they find a way to protect what truly matters? 

-- 

*Click* 

One click, one misstep and there it was, the picture and news articles circling on the internet.

--

Los Angeles, CA – In a surprising turn of events, Supernatural star Jensen Ackles and his co-star Y/N Y/L/N were spotted together in what appeared to be a romantic setting. This unexpected sighting has ignited a whirlwind of speculation and intrigue among fans and media alike. 

Ackles, who has been happily married to actress Danneel Ackles since 2010, was seen with Y/L/N at an upscale restaurant in downtown Los Angeles. The pair were seen at a local bar, a fan saw them engaging in deep conversation, sharing laughs, and even holding hands across the table. Dressed casual for the evening, both actors appeared relaxed and comfortable in each other’s company. 

An eyewitness, who wishes to remain anonymous, shared, “They looked really close and seemed to be enjoying each other's company a lot. It felt like there was definitely more than just friendship between them.” 

Y/N Y/L/N, who has recently to be rumoured as the new member of the cast of Ackles’ latest project “The boy”, has quickly become a fan favourite. However, this is the first time they have been seen together.  

Fans of Ackles have taken to social media to express their disbelief and confusion. One fan tweeted, “I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Jensen and Y/N? What about Danneel? This doesn’t make sense!” 

Another fan commented, “Jensen and Danneel have always been so solid. I hope this is just a misunderstanding.” 

As the news spreads, neither Jensen nor Y/L/N have made any public statements regarding the nature of their relationship. Danneel Ackles has also remained silent on the matter, choosing not to address the swirling rumours. 

It is possible that the outing was entirely innocent and misconstrued by the public. Hollywood friendships often involve close and affectionate interactions that can be easily misinterpreted. 

In the meantime, the internet continues to buzz with theories and opinions, eagerly awaiting any clarification from the involved parties.

Fans hope for a positive resolution that respects all individuals involved and clarifies the situation. 

-- 

Jensen stepped into his house, the warm familiarity of home wrapping around him. It had been an incredible cast, filled with unexpected connections and heartfelt moments. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought of Y/N, their shared laughter, and that unforgettable evening. 

It was just a stupid drunk kiss, but still she knew what he needed, a chance to feel like he had it still in him, flirting picking up a nice girl at the bar, even though it was his co start who knew he felt insecure.   

However, his smile faded as he saw his wife, Danneel, waiting for him in the living room, her expression unreadable. She held her phone in her hand, and Jensen’s heart sank with a premonition of trouble. 

“Hey, babe,” Jensen greeted, trying to keep his tone light. “You’re up late.” Danneel nodded, her eyes fixed on him. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep. There’s something I need to show you.” 

She handed him her phone, and Jensen’s stomach tightened as he saw the screen. There it was the photo from the bar. It captured the moment just before the kiss, the intimate way he and Y/N were looking at each other unmistakable. 

“Danneel, I...” Jensen started, but she held up a hand to stop him. 

“Jensen, I get it. It’s part of the job, right? You work closely with your co-stars. But this… this looks personal.” Her voice was calm, but he could hear the hurt underlying her words. 

Jensen took a deep breath, his mind racing. “It wasn’t what it looks like, I swear. We were just talking, drinking and then… I don’t know. It just happened.” 

Danneel looked at him, her eyes searching his. “I trust you, Jensen, but you have to understand how this looks. The internet is already buzzing with rumours. People are talking.” 

Jensen ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt gnawing at him. “I’m so sorry, Danneel. I never wanted to hurt you. Y/N and I, we just got caught up in the moment. It didn’t mean anything, it just turns out she is the same playful spirit drunk.” 

Danneel sighed, sitting down on the couch and gesturing for Jensen to join her. “I believe you, but we need to be careful. Our family, our kids—they’re going to hear about this. We need to be ready to handle it.” 

Jensen sat beside her, taking her hand in his. “I’ll talk to Y/N. We’ll figure out a way to set the record straight. I love you.” he said before kissing her goodnight. Danneel squeezed his hand, a small smile playing on her lips. 

-- 

The next week Jensen sat in a conference room with his manager, Y/N and her manager, Lisa, who was explaining their new plan. 

“So, we’ve decided to lean into this,” Lisa said, spreading out mock-ups of promotional posters featuring Soldier Boy and Y/N’s character. “The internet is already buzzing about the photo. We’re going to introduce her new character on ‘The Boys’ as the love interest.  

We know it wasn’t supposed to leak out yet, but we’re going to drop some on set photos, and I would like that you two make a video.  

Y/N glanced at Jensen, her eyes wide with surprise. “If that’s possible, that would be great!” Jensen leaned back in his chair, a mix of relief and excitement bubbling up. “Alright, let’s do this.”  

Jensen and Y/N found themselves standing in front of a camera crew, tasked with filming a special video announcement. Jensen stood beside Y/N, offering a reassuring smile as they exchanged a quick glance.  

They had rehearsed their lines countless times, but there was still a nervous energy in the air.  

“Hey, everyone, it’s Jensen Ackles here,” Jensen began, his voice confident as he addressed the camera. “And I’m thrilled to introduce you to the newest member of our team.” 

Y/N stepped forward, their expression a mix of excitement and determination. “Hi, I’m Y/N, and I’m beyond excited to join the cast of ‘The Boys’  

“Our new season is going to be bigger and better than ever,” Jensen continued, his enthusiasm infectious. “And with Y/N on board as soldier boys new love, I know we’re going to blow you away.” 

Y/N smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Get ready for an epic ride, folks.” With a wink they end the promo video. 

--  

“Y/N, can we talk?” Jensen asked, his voice serious as he pulled her aside. Y/N nodded, her expression guarded but curious. “Of course, J. What’s on your mind?” 

Jensen took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. “Look, I can’t shake this feeling that… maybe things between us aren’t as straightforward as we’ve been pretending.” 

Y/N’s gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes. “Jensen, I told you before, that kiss, it was just a moment. I know it didn’t mean anything.” 

“I don’t want to make things more complicated than they already are. That’s why… I think we need to set some boundaries.” he added.  

Y/N’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Boundaries?” 

Jensen sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Look, I value our friendship, Y/N. And I don’t want to lose that. But I think we need to be careful about how we spend our time together.” 

Y/N’s expression softened, a sense of resignation settling over them.” Maybe it’s best if we avoid situations where…” Jensen nodded, relief washing over him that Y/N understood. “Exactly. So, no more one on one getting drunk together, okay?” 

“Yeah, sure no problem. I thought that kind of was a done deal without saying anything.” Y/N smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. 

-- 

A few months later 

The cast of "The Boys" had a busy schedule at the Comic-Con weekend, but Jensen found himself with a rare moment of downtime. As he sipped on his coffee backstage, he noticed Y/N stepping onto the stage for a solo Q&A session with the fans. 

Jensen leaned against a nearby wall, watching from the shadows as Y/N took the microphone, a radiant smile lighting up their face. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Y/N’s eyes sparkled with genuine excitement and gratitude. 

“Hi, everyone!” Y/N greeted, their voice warm and inviting. “Thank you all so much for coming out today. You guys are the best!” 

As she began to take questions from the audience, Jensen found himself mesmerized by the way Y/N engaged with the fans. She listened intently to each question, her expressions ranging from thoughtful to playful, depending on the fans. 

She had an incredible ability to connect with people, making each person feel valued and heard. 

One fan, a young girl dressed as her character, nervously approached the microphone. “Hi, Y/N! I just wanted to say that I love you, and you’re my hero.” Y/N’s eyes softened as she leaned forward, her smile radiating warmth. “Thank you so much! That means the world to me. You look amazing!"  

As the panel continued, Jensen couldn’t shake the growing feelings stirring within him. Y/N finished answering another question, glancing backstage and catching Jensen’s eye. She gave him a quick, playful wink before turning back to the audience, and Jensen felt a flutter in his chest. 

The cast gathered for a dinner at a cozy restaurant after their appearance at a Comic-Con. The atmosphere was warm and lively as the cast members laughed and chatted, enjoying each other’s company before the whirlwind of events ahead. 

Jensen and Y/N exchanged polite smiles in between their casual conversation with others, the tension from their previous encounter hanging in the air between them like a silent understanding. 

As the evening progressed, Jensen couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N, her easy laughter and infectious energy drawing him in despite the distance he had tried to maintain.  

Throughout the dinner, their eyes meeting in fleeting moments of connection. Each glance spoke volumes. There was a playful spark in Jensen’s gaze, a hint of mischief that danced in his eyes. Finding it way too easy to find an opportunity to flirt with Y/N, even from across the table. 

As the evening progressed and the drinks flowed freely. The warmth of the alcohol combined with the electric energy between them, fuelling a newfound boldness within him. 

Leaning slightly on to the table, closer to Y/N, Jensen’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, a subtle gesture that worked like magic on her. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto Y/N’s, sending a message of longing and intent. 

Y/N’s breath caught at the sight, her own heart racing in response to Jensen’s unspoken flirtation. The air between them crackled with tension, the heat of their mutual attraction igniting like a wildfire. 

Despite the playful banter and laughter around them, Jensen and Y/N were lost in their own world, a world where the only thing that mattered was the intoxicating game of pulling and pushing.  

He saw how Y/N casually reached for her drink, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass in slow, deliberate circles. The motion was hypnotic, and Jensen found himself entranced by the simple yet sensual act.  

She looked up at him through her lashes, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. 

Y/N gracefully stood up from the table, her fingers lingering on the back of her chair as she cast a lingering, meaningful glance over her shoulder at him. Her eyes held a silent invitation that sent a thrill down his spine. 

Jensen watched her as she walked away, her movements fluid and confident. He knew exactly what she was suggesting, and he felt a surge of anticipation. Excusing himself with a casual comment to the rest of the cast, he waited a few moments before following her path.  

His heart pounded in his chest as he approached the restroom area, glancing around to ensure they wouldn’t be interrupted. 

He pushed open the door to the women’s restroom, his eyes immediately finding Y/N. She stood by the sinks, her expression a mix of mischief and desire. The door closed behind him with a soft click, sealing them in their private little world. 

“Y/N,” Jensen murmured, his voice husky as he stepped closer to her. “Are you sure about this?” 

She smiled, the kind of smile that sent shivers down his spine.  She reached out, her fingers brushing against his chest, sending a wave of heat through his body. 

Jensen closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her close. Their breaths mingled, the air thick with the electricity of their desire. Y/N tilted her head up, her eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made his pulse race. 

Without another word, Jensen leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a searing kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the pent-up longing and unspoken words that had been building between them. Y/N responded eagerly, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as she pressed herself against him. 

Jensen’s hands roamed her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, their tongues dancing in a rhythm of their own. 

For a moment, they broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other’s as they caught their breath. “I’ve never been more sure about anything,” she replied, her voice a seductive whisper. 

--

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Taglist: -> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

@yvonneeeee @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch

[euporie-art]

Hellooo there!! I saw your blog description and I am a benbaro shipper who would like to interact with you please! My benbaro obsession has gotten well fed by wonderful artworks and correct thoughts such as yours (thank you!!) recently but I fear my obsession can never be completely sated...

So if you like, feel free to use this ask to express whatever is currently on your mind! Just ramblings or a headcanon or something about benbaro or Barok or Albert separately or TGAA in general that you have thoughts about; this is a free pass to let it out! I'm always curious about how my blorbos look in other people's eyes

OMG HI I have read all of your benbaro fics and they make me fucking AJDJFHWIJFKTOEMTK (a good thing) . I need to get hit by a car. I love them so much

prepare for a whole lot of fucking yap because I am insane about them so much. and I have no job so I kinda just stew them in my brain all day at the moment, among other tgaa pairings and characters

(i honestly very rarely fixate on ships within fandoms. but tgaa gave me 3 pairings I would die for. asoryuu, homumiko, and benbaro. they all make me insane I'm going to eat drywall)

I think about them a lot. I don't even know where to start.

so I'll go w some dumb headcanons. sprinkling in some pretty bad drawings.tbh (please ignore how inconsistent my art style is)

I think some time after tgaa2 he moves back to England and lives with barok, who obviously has more than enough money to spend on him, so Albert grows his hair out again (he has a very stupid hat/helmet thing he wears to protect his hair if he's working on something potentially dangerous)

First off I think Albert had long hair in university. most of the time when people draw him in uni he looks almost identical to his 2-3 design WHICH IS FAIR AND NOT BAD! but I have some thoughts of my own

pray forgive the discourtesy of this looking shit I drew it quite quickly. but. I think he had long hair in university and was a little more particular about his appearance. however i do think he had pretty bad acne in his late teens. the acne was just a hormonal teenager thing and cleared up by his 20s.

After moving abroad I think he cut his hair short because he had less time to look after it, and wanted to put any money he had towards funding his inventions, so he did pretty much the bare minimum when it came to looking after himself (I must clarify I do think that Albert is attractive, this is not me trying to "yassify" him. I have a soft spot for cute nerdy guys I'm dating one but he likes Elden ring instead of science)

because he's pretty much been alone for like. a decade. and basically just spoke in Law Words for half of that. I think barok is very direct and literal with how he speaks so he worries about not seeming "romantic" enough, so to compensate he's very physically affectionate and likes spoiling albert with nice food, gadgets and supplies for his inventions, and new clothes.

I think barok is extremely clingy once he gets used to having Albert around again. he's like a cat he'll just kind of bonk his head into him sometimes and sadly gaze at him until he gets attention. very cuddly and a bit melodramatic. I love characterisations of barok where he's really pathetic tbh. also him being shy is fun I enjoy it greatly

albert on the other hand I actually think he's the more bold/confident one (I hate when barok is portrayed as a dominant bad boy or whatever its so stupid he literally gets shy when his 10 year old niece invites him to dinner). albert talks baroks ear off about anything and everything, humours his clingyness, and drags him outside to have a life beyond his job and engage in whimsy and fun . he's also very verbally affectionate I think. he makes sure to try and help barok feel less alone, because I think he has lingering guilt for not being there during the professor bullshit and klints death. it may have been after he left England for Germany, and he didn't even know when it was happening, but i think he has a lingering, irrational guilt for not being there for barok at his worst hour

ALSO a lot of the time I see people drawing Albert talking a lot about science shit w barok listening happily, but I also think it goes the other way too! I think barok will rant about wine pairings and different types of grapes n shit. Albert stares at him lovestruck and adoringly the whole time. he has no idea what a pinot noir is (neither do I, I don't drink)

final thing or I will be here all fucking day: my boyfriend and I came up with a headcanon that barok has a really pathetic looking Italian greyhound named petunia, he likes dressing her up in little outfits. I think when albert starts living with him he starts calling petunia their daughter, and has the ability to make the exact same sad and pathetic expression as the dog

jk tiny bonus: I have a very dumb "100 years on" au stewing in my brain where everything is set in the 1980s and 1990s instead of 1880s and 1890s. in the 80s section, when barok and Albert are in university together, barok is a sulky and mopey trad goth and they listen to The Cure together. albert dresses normal and listens to talking heads i think. this is stupidly self indulgent because I like 80s fashion and clothing. I have not even thought about the 90s section because I don't want to 😊 (I HATE 90S FASHION.)

[liquidstar]

hi this is still going around and i kinda wanna clarify something for all the tags that are saying "omg character A would say this to character B because theyre a dummy <3"

first of all im all for blorbo tagging, especially with greek characters and headcanons! love that shit! go nuts! buuuut just in case anyone actually intends to use this in writing: SAYING "MORO MOU" IS NOT THE SAME AS ACTUALLY CALLING YOUR PARTNER A MORON!

when you use it in that context it really does just mean "babe/baby," no one who uses it would actively be thinking about how the old etymology would mean it technically means moron. that's more of just a funny fact. like, when we call our partners baby in english, we're not thinking about how it can also mean someone who's overly sensitive.

no one in modern greek really says moro to mean dumb anymore. its sort of clunky and weird to say. youre more likely to say "hazo" (stupid) or ilithio (idiot). which are also mean, like, dont call your partner that!

however, if you are writing a greek speaking character and want an alternative, i simply must introduce you to "re" (pronounced like "reh" not "ree") ill explain under the cut

see, the word "moro" becomes "more" (moreh) when directed at someone. this eventually became shorted to "re" which is a word that doesnt quite have an english equivalent.

its usually used as a prefix, you put it before someones name when referring to them (it only works in second person). for example, "re kosta, where are you going?" < this implies that the question is somehwat rhetorical, you think kosta is an idiot who doesnt know where he's fucking going. or "re stephano, cut that out!" < stephano is an annoying dumbass, "re" is being used to emphasize this fact.

so typically adding the "re" prefix to someones name is an insult, a shorthand way to make your statement more insulting, and just sort of refer to people disrespectfully in general. however in a friendly context, it can also show closeness- its casual and lighthearted. it doesnt imply stupidity so much as silliness, and can even be seen as positive. this can just sort of depend on tone. an example of the latter would be "re kristina, how have you been?" < this implies a casual atmosphere and general excitement to see kristina, "re" reinforces closeness with kristina.

the difference is so slight but it's definitely there in the way its used. the tone changes the meaning. saying "re niko!" in an annoyed tone implies insult, while saying it in a positive tone implies friendliness. of course you do have to be careful with this- even in a friendly way, this level of Casual isn't something youd have with your boss or teacher. (people youre meant to talk to with the Respectful way of speaking, something english doesnt really have either)

so yeah if you want a Real authentic greek way to casually call your loved ones idiots, in an affectionate way, this would be how to do it! you can even drop the name all together and just call someone "re"- the name is implied. even just saying it in its own can be used to be like "dude." or "dude???" and It may sometimes be lengthened to "vre" for emphasis

anyway if you made it this far you must actually care about this kind of stuff, so let me give you some other terms of endearment you could use that are actually Nice: "agapi mou" (my love), "matia mou" or "matakia mou" (literally "my eyes" but more along the lines of "light of my eyes." the -aki suffix is a diminutive), and "kardia mou" or "kardoula mou" (my heart. -oula is another diminutive). these can be used for either romantic partners or children!

also the insult a greek character should use the most often is malaka. maliciously and negatively. its like how irish people say cunt or brittish people say wanker (in fact thats the literal translation). that word means a lot to us. and yes of course, you can totally say "re malaka!!!" and this could mean anything from "you stupid son of a bitch i'm going to murder you" to "my awesome close good friend, its so good to see you!"

now you know!

funniest language thing in modern greek is that the word for baby/infant is “moro” which literally means “idiot.” like someone looked at a baby 1000 years ago and was like “this guy doesnt know shit.”

[deckerswheeler]

mike may be oblivious to will’s feelings, but he knows will is gay, and he likes him; here’s why:

1. mike was very awkward and antisocial with will in the airport. he cut their hug short on purpose and tried to mask his excitement to see will, this was in direct opposition to their goodbye scene in season 3, where we can clearly see both mike and will clinging to each other while they hug and crying. mike’s actions are in indication of internalized biphobia, he doesn’t want to seem too excited to see will, because he knows how it looks when will does it, and he is afraid and ashamed to be perceived that way.

2. when mike and will got in their fight in the roller rink, mike uses the excuse that he is el’s boyfriend and will’s friend as justification for why he didn’t call will enough over the 8 month time span. He repeatedly says “we’re friends... we’re friends!” the second time with more conviction, symbolizing that he was convincing himself of this statement himself. will is near tears at this point, and clearly mike knows something is wrong, because he quickly attempts to apologize, regardless of how bad that apology is. mike senses that there is more going on than just will missing his best friend, he understands now that it IS in fact his fault will doesn’t like girls.

3. when will and mike have their talk in will’s room, will is doing everything he can to help mike feel better about el, despite feeling the pain that comes along with it. mike can see the pain will is in and he wants to make him feel better, he also wants to clarify that will has always and will always be his best friend, no matter what. we get to see mike become vulnerable again, on the verge of tears while revealing that he doesn’t feel the same without will in his life, in fact he feels he has lost him. will starts to tear up, this time from happiness at hearing mike’s words, and mike smiles at him sheepishly. he knows he is fixing whatever gap he drove between them. 

4. mike says it’s going to be up to them again, meaning him and will, and will says “it always is, isn’t it.” this causes mike to smile, not a fake ‘doing this to be nice’ smile, but a real, genuine grin. mike is just as happy and grateful that will is in his life as will is with him, and the audience really gets to see this here. the only thing that breaks their smiling and locking eyes with each other is the interruption by jonathan. 

5. when they are digging the grave in the desert, mike is staring at will thoughtfully, a strange look on his face. when will looks up at him, mike looks like he’s been caught and quickly gets back to digging. i wonder what he could’ve been thinking about? the same thing applies to when they are on the truck together, and will tells him it’s hard to open up, especially to the people you care about the most. mike looks deep in thought as will says this, it is clear he knows will is talking about himself. 

6. when will gives mike the painting, mike looks ecstatic, he is so excited that will painted something for him. as soon as will claims el commissioned it, his smile fades, and he looks almost disappointed. will’s speech was so obviously about himself, mike may be dumb, but he’s not stupid. he definitely knows what will is talking about. but he’s 15 years old, and his best friend is practically confessing his love to him, and he doesn’t know what to do or say, and why would he? he’s a kid for fuck’s sake. so instead of saying anything, all he can muster is “yeah?” we can even see that when will is crying, mike gives him a concerned glance, but stays silent, admiring the painting instead. also, mike knows will was painting something for his crush, el told him in his letter, so mike must know will lied about el commissioning it.  

7. when el is about to die, mike initially wasn’t going to give the “i love you” speech. the only thing that motivated him to do so was will affectionately grabbing his shoulder and saying, “don’t stop, okay. you’re the heart.” the audience can even see the struggle on mike’s face as he forces himself to say he loves el. sure, he cares about her, and doesn’t want her to die, but another reason why he’s doing this is for will, to save his sister. 

8. mike and will’s scene in the cabin was a direct parallel to their scene in season 2 when mike held will’s hand and said “we won’t let it,” this time, mike held will’s shoulder and said “and we will”. mike is only ever really affectionate with will when they are alone, signifying the fear that he feels to be affectionate with will in public. he held wills hand, wrapped his arm around will multiple times, and held his shoulder when they were alone, but he couldn’t hug him in the airport after not seeing him for 8 months? as mike has grown older, he’s become more hesitant to be affectionate with will, perhaps because he is realizing his own feelings for will, and doesn’t know how to handle it.

the series isn’t over yet! we still have one more season to go, and many more opportunities for byler to happen. i’m not giving up hope yet, because i truly believe the duffers have been planning this since season one, and we just don’t know it yet. 

[lokisprettygirl]

Not good enough (Loki x Female Reader) (Angst)

Summary : When loki finds you and thor in the library,laughing and hugging each other, he knows he's losing you to thor just like everything else in his life, but is he right this time?

A/n : Woohoo finally me writing something under 1000 words

He walked towards the library they had in the tower, he finished the last book he borrowed, and he needed a new one as soon as possible, there's not much to do in this tower when he's not on a mission or with you. A smile crept over his lips as he thought about you and him. It has only been like two months to your relationship with him, but after a year long worth of mutual pining and hide n seek he was over the moon to be able to call you his.

He heard your's and Thor's voice coming from the library, what are you doing with him? You told him you had to train with Natasha so why are you here? when he reached the secluded peaceful corner of the Library, where he often read with you and to you, he saw you and him hugging. You're hugging thor so affectionately, he felt as if someone stabbed him straight through his heart, the pain he felt in that moment surpassed any other pain he had ever felt, he turned around without making a noise and left for his chamber. Ofcourse you'd pick thor too, why would he think he was someone special to you when you can have mighty thor himself. He should have never trusted you with his heart.

"Thank you so much thor, talking about this really helped" you smile at him and he gives you one in return "You can talk to me anytime lady y/n, and never ever think you're not enough for my oaf of a brother, he's lucky to have find you"

Ever since you started dating loki, you have just been riddened with insecurities that you were not good enough for him, he's a prince, a god, you're just a mortal "I'm lucky too" you smile at him. You came to the library to borrow this book you knew loki would love reading, you were going to surprise him with it, when you saw thor you both started discussing about love and relationships and you shared your insecurities with him, but he made you see why you were wrong and you were thankful for that, You picked up the book you and made your way towards Loki's room.

When you went inside you saw his back as he looked out the window, watching the sunset probably "Loki baby, I'm back" you call out his name and hid the book under a pillow over his bed, you also wrote a cute little note for him and you were excited to see his reaction "Where were you?" He asks you and you didn't want to ruin the surprise so you lied "With nat, I told you so" you hugged him from behind but he pulled away quickly "Lying to the god of lies? Think you'll get away with it mortal?" He laughs in a way that assures you that he's upset about something "Loki I'm so sorry..I was just doing a stupid little.."

"Fucking thor behind my back are you? Couldn't resist my brother's charm could you? His looks must factor in too ofcourse, didn't think of you a slut but that's entirely onto me isn't it? Should have known your type" His venomous words made you tear up instantly, he thinks you cheated on him with his brother? How could he think like that about you ? You two have been friends since a year and you both finally built up the courage to unravel your feelings for each other, is that what he thinks about you?

"Loki you're mistaken I .." you tried to explain yourself but he was too blinded by his own insecurities to see through your truth "I saw you y/n, just now, in the library while you told me you were somewhere else, so no need to make excuses, go fuck my brother y/n, you were never good enough for me anyways"

You would have explained, you would have clarified what you were doing in the library if it wasn't for the last sentence he said to you, you would have stayed n fought for him if he wouldn't have thrown your worst insecurity in your face like that, not good enough, you were never good enough for him, never will be.

"Fine if that's the truth then I shouldn't even bother right, what's the point if I'm not good enough? I hope you find someone who is, Loki"

He watched you run out of his room so hurriedly, he hurt you badly but you hurt him first, if you were cheating on him then why did you look at him like he just broke your heart? He didn't want to dwell much into it, he had his own broken heart to nurse and heal, he never wanted to lose you, you were his only light amidst all the darkness he had in him, but just like everything else in his life, he lost you to thor.

[danteinthedevildom]

There's a Chat in OM where Satan shows concern over Beel because he saw Beel talking to himself, crouched down in the garden, which Beel later reveals to have been him talking to a very frail plant he found because Mammon told him that talking to flowers helps them grow.

And what I adore about this is that it shows things about the brothers involved that we don't always get to see in the main game, or that are sometimes overlooked for the funny hijinks.

- Beel notices incredibly small details. The flower is small and hidden enough that Satan initially thinks he's talking to himself. He doesn’t actually see the plant at all. And Beel is the tallest brother, so it's not as if his height would be any help to him noticing something on the ground that's small, hidden, and frail, especially when he’s doing a task like watering the garden. That’s just a job to be done, and most people would pay more attention to where the water’s going and how much there’s left to do than they would to each individual flower. He must have been paying genuinely close attention to his surroundings to even notice it to begin with.

- Beel's care for things extends even to nature. He talks to the plant because he wants to help it grow. It's just a small, dying flower, one of however many there are in the House’s garden; there’s no reason to fret over it when there’s probably plenty of other flowers around it, and maybe even flowers of the same species. 

But Beel’s genuinely invested in bringing it back to health. He’s seen this tiny, sickly, insignificant flower, and his first thought is to make it better. It's why he later clarifies the situation to MC, asking for more help, because the flower hasn't shown any signs of improvement.

(Very quietly, it makes me wonder if part of the reason he does this is guilt. Maybe Beel just doesn’t like to see things that are dying.)

- Despite how the brothers act towards Mammon most of the time, Beel fully takes on his advice. He spends days talking to the flower because Mammon told him that's something that might work, and it's only when the flower hasn't gotten better that he seeks more help.

At no point did he question this advice. At no point did he think that the “scummy” second-born would say something stupid, or irrelevant, or unhelpful. Mammon told him to talk to the plant, and he so did.

He says that he asked because Mammon was nearby, but at any time he could have just walked right past him, found someone else, and asked them. He could have completely ignored the fact that Mammon was there - especially considering how little the brothers tend to think of his ideas, to begin with - and found someone “more competent”. But he didn’t.

Which means he genuinely has no issues turning to Mammon for help. He genuinely thinks Mammon can give competent advice.

Out of all the brothers, Beel is usually the best when it comes to their overall treatment of the second-born, so maybe that isn’t surprising - but he can be derisive as well.

So it's nice to see, in a situation where it was just the two of them, without the antagonising influence of the others, Beel show he's more than willing to listen to Mammon as a voice of authority and knowledge - especially over something he's worried about. He respects and trusts what Mammon says, and believes it.

- Mammon saw Beel worried over a plant - something small and insignificant that has no greater purpose in the world and hosts no real interest for either of them - and gave him the best genuine advice he could.

Mammon likely doesn't actually know how to care for sick plants, but wanted to try and give Beel something to work with. We know he cares for his brothers deeply - almost (if not exactly) to the point of self sacrifice - so it's not a stretch at all to say he probably suggested talking to the plant in full seriousness, hoping it would help Beel.

It's a common piece of advice, after all. I've heard people say it all the time, from the most amateur gardener to the most professional; talking to your plants keeps them happy and helps them grow.

The bit that really gets me about it, though, is the fact that Mammon... knew it? Out of all things, you'd expect him to care about gardening the least - and to suggest talking to a plant even less. It goes completely against his image, but not against what we know of Mammon as a kind and caring (as well as emotional) demon beneath the facade.

Him, in a similar position to Beel, crouched down low and out of sight to murmur quietly to a plant he thinks needs an extra boost, is well within the spectrum of things Mammon would do but deny doing if caught.

And I just think it's sweet, imagining him passing on advice he's used in the past over a similar thing he might have done to try and help his clearly worried little brother.

- Satan, in a chat with Solomon and MC, shows genuine care and concern towards Beel.

His first instinct is to ask MC and Solomon if they might know what’s going on. He’s noticed a pattern of behaviour that’s unusual for Beel - “sitting out in the garden, mumbling to himself”, to quote him directly - and once it’s gotten to a point that he’s worried, he asks if anyone else knows what’s wrong.

It shows a fair bit of forethought, too. Satan didn’t immediately assume something was up, didn’t immediately dogpile on Beel; he let it play out, keeping a close eye, until it went on for long enough that he thought it might be something bigger. He’s often shown as being thoughtful about how others might react to things (at least, when he’s not enraged), but it’s interesting to see the actual depth of not only his caring, but his understanding of emotional states and how to handle them. 

Satan isn’t heartless. If he notices something wrong, he’s very likely to approach the person in question (or people he trusts) with his concerns in a very gentle manner explicitly to avoid overwhelming them. He actively cares enough to pay attention to the people around him, and to notice when someone starts acting differently. 

This is especially sweet when it comes to Beel. The brothers have a tendency to treat Beel as the big, gentle giant who doesn’t have a worry in the world except for what he wants to eat. He’s quiet, complains little, and shoulders so many burdens in stride that they often overlook his struggles - if they’re even aware that they exist, because Beel loves his family so much he tries to avoid troubling them.

The fact, then, that Satan not only noticed, not only inquired about his health, but then - when Solomon and MC suggest that maybe Beel’s stressed out and bottling up his emotions - openly says this: 

Just shows so much love. The game sometimes overlooks just how much Satan loves his family, but this? This shows it, without a doubt. 

- Satan messages the chat with Solomon in it. 

This surprised me when I went back to look over the conversation; I genuinely remembered it as him talking to Levi, for some reason. Beyond that, if you asked me who I thought it’d be that he questioned for information regarding Beel’s health, it wouldn’t be Solomon that immediately jumped to mind. 

In this situation, you’d think it’d make more sense for him to ask MC and Asmo (who he’s shown to have a very close and affectionate relationship with), or maybe MC and Belphie (who would probably be the first demon anyone should go to regarding Beel, and who Satan definitely gets on with). 

As far as I’ve seen - which, admittedly, I’m not caught up on any of the Human World events from the main game beyond spoilers I’ve looked up - there’s not a lot of, if any, interactions between Beel and Solomon? Most of them are Solomon trying to give Beel food, and Beel trying to foister that food off onto someone else because Solomon’s cooking is one of the few things he can’t stomach. 

So maybe it says more about Satan’s relationship with Solomon. Looking back through the chats, Solomon feels comfortable enough with Satan to outright ask him if he’s kissed MC (in the chat where Luke overheard Satan and MC talking about K.I.S.S.), and Satan doesn’t react negatively even though it’s a genuinely personal question.

Likewise, Satan, when furious over one of his dramas, immediately turns to the chat with MC and Solomon in it. He explicitly states that he doesn’t know what to do with the feelings he’s got left over from the cliffhanger, and wants to talk it over with the two humans. Which is interesting in two ways: 

+ It shows that Satan is comfortable enough when angry to go to Solomon and MC, confident that they won’t actively make it worse (which is always possible when it comes to Satan’s Wrath once it’s ignited). 

+ It shows that Satan’s more than happy to talk about how he feels in front of Solomon, and actively engaging him in that discussion. Yes, it’s only over a drama, but you don’t often turn to someone you don’t trust when you want to vent over something you’re passionate about. 

There’s a fair bit of trust between them, I think, regardless of how either of them are typically viewed. Plus, the chat’s called Cat (3). It’s almost definitely just a pun, but the fact that a chat with Solomon and MC in it is also named after the one thing that can soothe Satan from an outright rage (as we’ve seen both in OtakuFM and in the main game) is interesting in what it implies about their relationship with him. 

So, back to what I originally pondered: why did he go to Solomon and MC when he was concerned about Beel, and not Belphie (Beel’s twin, most likely to know what he’s up to) or Asmo (who lives at the House and is absolutely more likely to have seen Beel in the garden)? 

He trusts Solomon and MC enough to take the matter seriously, with discretion. 

[hoshi-island]

jess, my love, this is the first ever svt fic i’ve ever read; and that makes you the inaugural post on this new side-blog of mine. here’s a crown because you deserve some sort of prize: 👑

coincidentally, this is also the first fic of yours i’ve ever read. i’m not giving myself a crown because this is my prize. either kim mingyu was made for friends-to-lovers AUs or friends-to-lovers AUs were made for kim mingyu — i’m not qualified to determine which of these is true, but i know one of them has to be!!

you pulled me in immediately with the self-depreciation. i’m always a sucker for mc’s who call themselves out, and for a parenthetical narrator popping in to tell us what’s what. for example:

Ever since that awful (read: not that bad, you were just a dramatic teenager) break-up you went through in your second year of high school just before Valentine’s Day.

gold, already! and we’re, what, two sentences in?

i’m also seeing another one of my favorite things, which is the “i don’t really care much about xyz thing but you do, so sign me up” aspect of friendship. this very specific dynamic means so, so much to me:

It wasn’t as much for him as you and you knew that.

the fact that he buys into this and swoops in with mc’s favorite snacks because he knows that this holiday matters to her is so 🫠

i’d like to place an order for this mingyu and i will pay extra for expedited international shipping. okay, great, thanks!

okay, i’m getting on my soap box to scream about this:

That’s when you always chime in to remind everyone that Valentine’s Day is about love, not just romantic relationships. You and Mingyu do love each other, always have. Why not celebrate that?

THIS IS THEEEEEE TAKE™️! normalizing being a lil in love with your friends! that’s the purest form of love, in my unprofessional opinion, and i’m so geeked that mc is about 👏🏻 that 👏🏻 life. 👏🏻

the cute lil banter! the fact that he calls mc “the attention monster”! i feel seen.

i love this mingyu being so food-motivated that the butter snatching makes him pout, and the appearance of their order immediately derails his train of thought. gaaaaah, must protect!!! at all costs!!

this exchange made me snort because omg, this is peak friendship:

“Can I ask you something?” he asks, grabbing a bite of cake with his fork. “Not sure when we started asking if we could ask questions, but go on,” you say.  “What’s the real reason you didn’t give Jeonghan a chance?” Mingyu asks and that makes you look up suddenly. “I already told you,” you answer. “Not sure when we started avoiding answering things, but go on,” he says, throwing your line back at you.

i’m such a sucker for one character parroting what the other said in order to roast them. 10/10 choice for this dialogue.

aaaah! i love that mingyu clarifies that he hasn’t been in love with mc for the past ten years. it’s so important to me that he wasn’t simply over there pining, but that he ventured out on his lil romantic walkabout. he saw what was out there and chose not to pursue any of it further 😭

and then! you proceeded to hit me with another one of my favorite things:

And then he’s sliding over on the couch, gently tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, so careful like he can’t tell if it’s all really happening. So cautious.

big, clumsy doofus (affectionate) being so uncharacteristically careful with something/someone they don’t want to break. please come peel me off the floor — i am weak.

scratch that last. i am dead:

“You know I’d never drop you,” he assures you, voice low.

[user hoshi-island has left the server]

the juxtaposition! of such an excitable goof! moving so slowly! oh my god. mc is right; he is a menace to society. criminal!

Mingyu has always had a thing about praise.

straight to jail for this. mingyu with a praise kink has ruined me and i will simply never recover. 🚨 good 🚨 boy 🚨 alert 🚨

so, when i read him calling mc “baby,” my stupid little heart fluttered. apparently, i wasn’t the only one, because:

Why did him calling you baby make your brain short circuit?

mc 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 going a bit stupid when this word slips out 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 me.

the bit about him knowing mc has an IUD made me squeal. i would be 0% surprised if he drove her for the appointment, or was there afterwards with pain relievers and snacks when she was done — and he likely listened without complaint when she inevitably bitched about how sore she was. regardless, i am down supreme for this mingyu.

actually, i am down in the sub-basement, babbling incoherently at this ending:

“So, I guess we’re doing this,” you say, watching his face closely. “Yeah, we are,” he agrees, no room for argument. “I’m not letting go of you now.” You lay back down and bury your face in his side. You’re not sure what else to say. “Hey, Mingyu?” “Hmm?” he says. You feel it more than hear it. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

this was the perfect way to wrap up this fic. seriously, the level of comfort you have to have with sometime to be this matter-of-fact and nonchalant…. ugh. UGH!

in summary:

fool for you | kmg (18+)

where you and mingyu have a pact to always spend valentine's day together when you're single pairing: kim mingyu x f.reader genre: friends to lovers; fluff, smut rating: explicit; minors DNI warning: mentions of drinking (they're not drunk), some swearing, mingyu is described as a puppy, kissing, light marking, mentions of some biting, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex (be safe), one use of a pet name (baby), i think that's it but if you see something else, lemme know! word count: ~4.8k a/n: this is for a valentine's day collab by the lovely @playmetheclassics @here4btsfics and @missgeniality. thank you for planning this. and to one of my favorite people, @ugh-yoongi this is for you, happy love day! banner credit: @classicscreations, thank you bby

It’s always been like this with you and your best friend since you were teenagers. Ever since that awful (read: not that bad, you were just a dramatic teenager) break-up you went through in your second year of high school just before Valentine’s Day. All because your boyfriend didn’t want to have to buy you anything. Which was dumb, you think, because you were teenagers and you weren’t exactly expecting some grand gesture. Not when you’d been dating for less than a year. 

But you were upset in that angsty teenager kind of way and Mingyu swooped in to try and fix it, in true best friend fashion. He showed up at your house that night with all your favorite snacks and some movie that you couldn’t remember. What you did remember, though, was your promise to always be each other’s Valentine’s date if you were both single. It wasn’t as much for him as you and you knew that. You couldn’t help it, you just loved love and the idea of spending the day with someone special. Which he was to you. 

Now it’s been 10 years since you made the promise to each other. Those 10 years have seen you both through finishing high school, going to college, countless dates, and so much change. The only thing that hasn’t changed is always making time for each other, no matter what else was going on. Mingyu is your best friend and you know you’re his. You’re sure nothing can change that.

And since you’re both actually adults now (kind of), you can go out to dinner for Valentine’s Day at a nice place with good food. Some of your other friends think it’s weird, that you go out on what’s essentially a date on the “most romantic” day of the year. That’s when you always chime in to remind everyone that Valentine’s Day is about love, not just romantic relationships. You and Mingyu do love each other, always have. Why not celebrate that?

“Cheers to another year spent with my favorite person,” you say and raise the glass of champagne, a complimentary one for all reservations that night. 

“Yeah I guess you’re okay,” Mingyu agrees when he clinks his glass against yours. 

“Wow, I see how it is,” you retort and he smiles. 

“I’m always happy when we get to do this, you know that,” Mingyu says.

“Maybe,” you shrug, “doesn’t hurt to hear it again.”

“Ah yes, the attention monster reappears,” Mingyu says and you roll your eyes without any real annoyance behind it.

“Hey, I was really good when you were dating Nayeon,” you protest. “I just like getting to hang out with my best friend.”

“You’re right,” he concedes. 

You’re expecting him to say more because you haven’t really talked about the breakup even though it’s been about a month. “That’s it?”

“What?” he asks, reaching for a roll in the center of the table. 

“I just, I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about what happened with her,” you say. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Mingyu says. It’s more of a shrug than anything as he grabs a roll. “You knew we were having problems.”

This kind of sparks your interest, so you pull the butter away before he can reach it. At first, a look of betrayal flashes across his face. Playful, of course. And then he’s pouting. God, he’s such a puppy sometimes. Just a giant goofball who has no idea how big he is.

“I know you were having problems,” you finally say to correct him. “Last time I saw you and her together, she seemed happy.”

Mingyu just looks at you for a second. “She didn’t like my friends and it just got old. I was sick of having to justify hanging out with them.”

“Well your friends are idiots,” you say and hand over the butter. 

“And to think they always talk about how much they love you,” he says and you laugh. 

“I love them too, but they’re still idiots. Both can be true,” you say. 

“Yeah, well, Nayeon didn’t see it that way, so,” Mingyu trails off with a shrug. 

You reach a hand across the table and his hand meets yours instinctively. “I know I joke around with you, but I am sorry. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am,” he insists and you frown. “Come on, I’ve still got you and some amazing friends. I’m good.”

“Okay,” you agree and reluctantly pull your hand back.

“Besides, I think it’s you we need to talk about,” he says and your brow furrows. 

“What about me?” you ask, a little nervous to hear the answer because it is Mingyu, after all.

“Did you forget that it was Seokmin who introduced you to Jeonghan?” Mingyu asks and he’s got that little smirk that you really fucking hate sometimes. Shithead.

“I didn’t forget,” you say and pretend to find the drink menu interesting even though you’ve already ordered.

“Nope, sorry,” Mingyu says and plucks the menu from your hand. “I told you about Nayeon.”

“You two dated for like 9 months? It wasn’t the same?” you point out incredulously.

“And you ghosted him,” Mingyu barks out with a laugh. “The poor guy, he was heartbroken.”

“Oh, he was not,” you scoff. “There wasn’t any spark.”

“That damn spark,” Mingyu says with a shake of his head. 

And because sometimes life is actually fair, the appetizer shows up and distracts Mingyu from any further line of questioning. He’s been wanting to try this restaurant since it opened. You’re not really sure why he never went with Nayeon. It’s a win for you though. And Mingyu loves food. He’s an incredible cook, but who would ever mind someone else cooking for them? 

It’s also kind of cute. Mingyu is this giant ball of energy, exactly like the puppy you compared him to earlier. More like a golden retriever actually, because he can be smart and also very dumb. He’s always moving until he passes out. He’s fiercely loyal. But when he’s happy and eating something like this, he just kind of slows down, gets focused. There’s something endearing about it.

Dessert is always the same for the two of you too. You pretend that you only want a bite or two of whatever Mingyu orders and end up eating most of it while he pouts until you order something else. Part of you thinks that you should just order two to start, the other part kind of likes your little tradition. There are a lot of things that you like doing with Mingyu. This is your favorite though, this stupid little Valentine’s Day tradition. Maybe it’s the comfort or the safety. Maybe it’s knowing that even if you’re dating someone shitty, Mingyu will always be there.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks, grabbing a bite of cake with his fork.

“Not sure when we started asking if we could ask questions, but go on,” you say. 

“What’s the real reason you didn’t give Jeonghan a chance?” Mingyu asks and that makes you look up suddenly.

“I already told you,” you answer.

“Not sure when we started avoiding answering things, but go on,” he says, throwing your line back at you.

“I mean, it’s true, I didn’t feel a spark and I don’t know,” you say as you search for the words. “I guess I just don’t wanna be wasting my time dating someone when it’s not going to go anywhere.”

“You never know though,” he says and you can’t really pinpoint the emotion.

“I don’t know,” you say and think for a second. “Have you ever just gone on a date and been sitting across from someone that’s nice and smart and funny and attractive, literally everything you should want but…it’s just, not there?”

Mingyu chuckles even though it’s not really funny. “Yeah, I guess I have.”

“And, okay, like part of me was also thinking that this holiday was coming up. So I either had to just shut it down or agree to do something with him,” you say and look down, embarrassed about what you’re going to admit. “I just kind of thought I’d rather spend tonight with you, someone I know I like being around, rather than in some sort of new, probably undefined, relationship with him. Like what if he picked a shitty restaurant or made shitty plans? What if we run out of things to talk about?”

“Wait, you turned him down so you could spend Valentine’s Day with me?” Mingyu asks, eyes wide.

“Come on, not like that,” you say and ignore the fluttering in your stomach. “Just, I don’t know, we always have fun.”

“You like doing this with me,” Mingyu says and you roll your eyes.

“Course I do, Gyu,” you answer easily.

“What if it was like that, though?” he asks and you cock your head to the side. “Like what if we were on a date and it wasn’t just another Valentine’s Day with friends?”

“Mingyu, we’re not…” you start and falter at the look on his face. “Are you serious?” 

“You do realize that I’ve actually never been in a relationship on Valentine’s Day, right?” he asks and that stupid smirk is back. 

“You must’ve been, we haven’t done this every year,” you say and you’re trying to wrack your brain to see if it’s true. 

“No, you’re right, we haven’t. We’ve missed 3 since we made the deal when we were fifteen, all when you were in a relationship,” Mingyu says and you’re at a loss for words. 

“Does that mean…?” you try to ask but your mouth just can’t see to catch up with your brain and your heart. 

“Do you wanna get out of here and go back to my apartment? It might be easier to talk there,” he says and you just nod. 

It’s a lot of information to process and for once, Mingyu is quiet by your side. His hand is firm around yours, which doesn’t feel like a big deal because you’ve held hands for years. Except that it’s entirely different now. And when he needs it back so he can actually drive with both his hands, a part of you misses the comfort of it. Misses the security. 

You’re quiet in the elevator and on the walk to his front door, quiet as you walk through the doorway. Even the apartment is quiet, which is surprising given how loud one of Mingyu’s roommates tends to be. But the place is empty, apparently, as Mingyu tells you when he breaks the silence to ask if he can take your coat to hang it up. It’s a strange feeling for a lot of reasons. Right now it’s strange to have Mingyu taking care of you when it’s usually the other way around.

It’s quiet again as you walk the familiar path to the living room to sit down while Mingyu makes you a cup of tea. When he hands it to you, you know that it’ll be perfect because Mingyu’s been your best friend for over a decade and he knows everything about you. And that’s when you realize. Maybe he knew this too. Maybe he’s a step ahead of you in realizing there are real feelings here. Maybe he’s the one you can depend on. 

“How long?” you ask, figuring you need to speak eventually.

“Have I liked you?” he asks, needing clarification. You only nod. When he doesn’t answer immediately, you look over at him. Study his face in profile before he answers. “It’s kind of a long answer, I guess. I had a crush on you that first Valentine’s Day, but I figured you also just needed a friend. And I realized how much I did love our friendship. Plus we were kids.”

He takes a breath to collect his thoughts. “I haven’t been in love with you for 10 years, just to be clear,” he says and chuckles. “Not that I haven’t thought about it either. Mostly it’s just been that you were my best friend and we went on these little friend dates and I didn’t think too deeply about it.”

“Did something change?” you ask, still not ready to address your own feelings. 

“I’m not sure how to explain it. Nayeon and I were just kind of throwing out things for Valentine’s Day even though it was still over a month away. And she made a comment about how she hoped you’d have someone so you wouldn’t be missing me,” Mingyu says and frowns. 

“She isn’t exactly the first to not like it,” you say quietly. 

“It wasn’t even that, it was all me,” Mingyu says honestly. “I started to think about how I wouldn’t get to spend it with you and that was…a wake-up call. Nayeon and I broke it off not much after that. And honestly, what I said about my friends was true. She hated Seokmin.”

“How does anyone hate him? He’s a sunshine baby,” you say and Mingyu laughs. “Minghao I get, maybe, because he can be mean if he doesn’t like you. But not Seokmin.”

“Right?” he agrees. “So I was thinking about you and us and trying to sort things out when Seokmin said he was going to introduce you to Jeonghan and my heart broke. I couldn’t imagine having just broken it off with Nayeon only to still not get to see you for our tradition. That’s when I knew for sure. And we aren’t kids anymore.”

“So, like, what do we do now?” you ask, and Mingyu studies you for a moment.

“What do you want to do?” he asks. “I mean, are you…oh my god, why is this so hard? I just told you how I felt but I don’t know…”

He’s rambling and it’s incredibly endearing because he doesn’t usually get flustered like this. It also makes you realize that he’s laid everything out while you’ve said almost nothing. You rest a hand on his leg to stop him from stuttering through things. “Hey, I realize I didn’t say this. But I do have feelings for you too.”

“You do?” Mingyu asks, his whole face lighting up.

“Yeah, dummy, that’s what I really meant when I was talking about sitting across from Jeonghan not feeling the spark. He’s a great guy but he’s not you,” you say easily. 

“What do we do now?” Mingyu asks, making you laugh. 

“I mean like I really wanna kiss you, so,” you say, watching as his eyes go wide, just for a moment. 

And then he’s sliding over on the couch, gently tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, so careful like he can’t tell if it’s all really happening. So cautious. It’s at odds with your best friend who’s always tripping over his own feet and never seems to know just how big he is. Your whole body is hyper-aware of his and even though he admitted his feelings first, you’re still a little worried that this isn’t real either. When his lips finally meet yours, it occurs to you just how many times you’ve imagined this. How many times you’ve looked at his lips and wondered if they were soft or what they would feel like against yours. How many times you’ve wondered about his hands running over your body.

His lips feel better than you expected, the perfect mix of soft and firm against your own. One of his large hands cups the side of your face, fingers curling around behind your ear. You’re not even sure which one of you deepens the kiss, you’re only aware that your tongues are moving together and that it’s making you feel a little light-headed. The angle is awkward but you’re not sure you really care. You’re kissing your best friend and it’s everything you’ve ever needed and nothing like you thought. 

He pulls away and you’re a little embarrassed by the way your lips chase after his, a little unused to being the one that pouts in this relationship. Yet that’s exactly what you do when you see him just looking at you.

“Is this actually happening?” he asks. You let out of huff of air.

“Well not now, since you stopped kissing me,” you say. You expect him to laugh or roll his eyes. Instead, he only looks fond. So incredibly fond. 

“Never would’ve pegged you as the pouty, whiny type,” Mingyu says. Now you’re the one that rolls your eyes.

“I’m leaving,” you announce and get up. 

You’re actually a little surprised when he lets you stand up and take a few steps toward the door. There’s a chance for your stomach to drop, just a little bit. And then he’s grabbing your arm to spin you around to him. 

Fuck, he’s tall. Which you’ve always known, but it’s different when he’s crowding your space and caging you between his arms. Your back is against the wall when you finally tilt your head up to look at him. Whatever playful glint that had been in his eyes earlier is gone. There’s no question that he wants you as much as you want him, maybe more. 

You pull his face down to yours to kiss him again, harder this time, let your hands tangle in his hair that he’s finally grown out after literal years of asking him. His hands grip your hips, just on the right side of too hard. 

And, okay, you don’t want to complain, but Mingyu genuinely is a giant and it’s kind of hard on your neck to crane it so you can continue kissing him. Just as you start to rise up on your tiptoes, Mingyu’s hands move from your hips down to the backs of your thighs. You gasp into his mouth when he picks you up, balancing you against the wall. It’s nothing but heat between the two of you when you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to help him keep you held up.

“Fuck this,” he says quietly as he pulls you away from the wall. 

You squeak at losing your backrest and wrap your arms around his neck tighter like you’re afraid to fall. He just chuckles.

“You know I’d never drop you,” he assures you, voice low. 

Even though he said it, you’re expecting him to deposit you on the bed. He doesn’t. He’s so gentle when he places you on the edge of his bed and you’re wondering where all the restraint is coming from. You sure as hell don’t have this kind of control.

Almost on their own, your hands reach for his shirt and he watches as you unbutton it carefully, sliding it down his arms. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen him shirtless (and you’ve seen him shirtless a lot), he’s still beautiful. So beautiful that you don’t realize he’s reaching for the hem of your dress, that’s already almost at your hips from him picking you up, removing it quickly before unclasping your bra just as quickly. It leaves you almost completely exposed, only your underwear left. The urge to be shy is brief when you see the way he’s looking at you. You spare a moment to consider if anyone’s ever looked at you like that (they haven’t, you’re sure). 

This time the kiss you get is actually quick before his mouth moves down over your body. He sucks one of your nipples between his teeth and your back arches in response. And there’s something a little weird about it all. There’s nobody in the world you know better than Mingyu, with his endless energy and restlessness. But you didn’t know this side of him. The side where he takes his time, slows down so every moment feels more important, focuses on you and you alone. 

You don’t stop him as he continues to move down your body and nips along the way. It doesn’t matter that he’s marking you up, doesn’t make you pause like it has before with anyone else. Not that anyone is going to be seeing these marks anyway, since he’s currently focusing on your inner thigh. And fuck, it feels good, but you’re also a little impatient, a little needy when your hand knots in his long hair again. Without even seeing his face, you know he’s smiling. Smirking, probably. He doesn’t have to tell you that he loves to see you whiny for him. 

(He does anyway, though, because he’s still a menace to society and to you specifically. He doesn’t have to tease you either, but he does that too, making you beg before he removes your underwear.)

“Mingyu please,” you beg, already reduced to this. 

His legs on yours from between your legs and you let out a heavy breath. His eyes are still on you when he asks, “what is it you’re asking for?”

“Something, anything,” you say because you’re no longer too proud to beg. You can yell at him for it later. Right now you just need. 

A second later, he gives you what you asked for. He runs his tongue up your folds lazily, too slow. It’s deliberate, you know. And you know that you should appreciate that he’s not in a rush. It’s just that you’re so on edge and this isn’t helping. Maybe he can tell by the way your hand tightens in his hair or the way you moan or even the way you squirm with his tongue inside you. Whatever it is, something makes him speed up and praises fall easily from your lips. The praises only seem to push him on, which isn’t surprising. Mingyu has always had a thing about praise. 

Mingyu slides a finger inside your cunt without much warning and it’s all too much. You never really paid that much attention to his hands (which was good for your sanity, probably). But his long finger moves quickly inside your cunt and you clench around him without meaning too. He hums against your clit, makes it feel like a praise. When he slides a second finger in, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll last. The rhythm of his fingers sliding inside you along with his mouth on your clit is driving you wild. 

He curls his fingers inside of you and thrusts faster, not teasing now, certainly not dragging it out. It’s silent permission for you to let go. The orgasm rips through you and you fall back onto the bed, dully aware of him guiding you through it. You’re breathing heavily when you feel his fingers slide out and prop yourself up in time to see him put his fingers in his own mouth. And fuck, okay that’s also really hot. 

You lean forward to undo his pants. Those fall to the floor with his boxer briefs and your eyes go a little wide. He’s bigger than you’re expecting, not that you’ve spent much time thinking about him. Now he’s the one that looks a little shy, even though it was you that was just coming on his tongue. 

He goes to grip his cock and you snap out of it, gently moving his hand away. Instead, you lean forward to spit on the tip, spreading it along his length, thinking you might tease him. Just a little bit. Your strokes are slow, at least at first, and he just watches, seems to be caught up in the moment. Until he gets impatient and jerks a little into your hand, even though you can tell he’s trying not to. 

You just look up at him, watch his eyes on you as you take his cock into your mouth. Mingyu gathers your hair in his hands, but lets you go at your own pace. Slowly, you find your rhythm, taking as much into your mouth as you can. Mingyu seems to like to give praise as much as he likes to receive it, though, because it falls out of his mouth between his groans.

“Baby, hang on,” Mingyu says and gently pulls himself back. Your eyes go wide for a second before registering that his look is just want. “Can I…I mean, I really want to fuck you. Fuck, I really want to feel you.”

That, almost more than anything else, goes straight to your core. You know you’re already getting wet again but why does he have to look like that when he says it? Why does he have to look like this is more than he’s ever experience? Why did him calling you baby make your brain short circuit? 

“God, yes Mingyu, yes, I want to feel you inside me,” you manage to say as you’re moving back into the center of the bed. 

Mingyu is reaching for his bedside table the next second and you watch him. There’s a part of you that knows it’s best to be safe, knows that you never know. But the other part, the much louder part, just wants to feel him. It’s the part that knows even though he could be a fuckboy, he’s not. Knows he doesn’t sleep around. So you tell him you’ve got an IUD, even though he already knows, and not to worry. He checks, because he cares about you more than he knows how to express, but there’s a part of him that’s excited too.

He’s hovering over you the next second, pressing kisses against every bit of your skin his lips come into contact with. He only stops for a second to line himself up at your entrance, slides the tip between your folds and comments on how wet you are again. As soon as he presses the tip into your cunt, his lips are on yours again, catching the moans. Or maybe distracting you from how big he is inside of you. 

You’re thankful for this side of him, the side that’s so careful with you, the side that’s much more in control of his body than you’ve seen anywhere else. Thankful because he’s moving slowly, letting you adjust. And because you know neither of you are going to last that long once he actually does start moving. 

“Please,” you nearly whisper, fingers digging into Mingyu’s arms. 

It’s all he needs, though. He starts moving, slowly snapping his hips as he thrusts into you. It’s all so much. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this much while fucking someone. You love to love and love feelings, but sex has always been somehow separate for you. Not that you don’t feel during sex. It’s just that you’ve always been able to separate the feelings. You can’t imagine doing that now and maybe that’s because none of them were Mingyu.

You know he wants to make it last, you do too, but it’s all just really overwhelming. So you focus on this moment, on how he speeds up, how his breath sounds so close to you, the way his muscles contract with each movement, on the way he stretches you. You dig your nails into his arms to keep yourself grounded and he groans. He picks up his pace a little more, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting all the way in, making you scream out. 

It feels like it all happens too fast. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm. And you know Mingyu is close too, can feel the way his thrusts falter. You clench around him, let him know you’re close, say whatever comes out. Most of it is probably incoherent, you think. But he understands anyway, is right there with you. Your second orgasm rips through you even harder than the first. Mingyu thrusts through it, releasing into you in the process. 

It’s a few minutes later, after you’ve both somewhat caught your breath and he’s pulled out of you, that you fully realize what’s happening. Mingyu has one hand behind his head and the other arm around you, eyes closed. You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him, appreciate all his features up close for what feels like the first time in all your years of friendship. He opens his eyes and meets yours. It’s the best smile you can ever remember seeing. 

“So, I guess we’re doing this,” you say, watching his face closely.

“Yeah, we are,” he agrees, no room for argument. “I’m not letting go of you now.”

You lay back down and bury your face in his side. You’re not sure what else to say. “Hey, Mingyu?”

“Hmm?” he says. You feel it more than hear it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

this ended up being a little longer than i meant, but let me know your thoughts <3

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Omega angst???

Omega angst 😌

• It was Katsukis fault really

• well- sorta

• you already had the fear of being too overbearing and because of that you held most people at an arms length

• and you fought yourself so hard

• you desperately wanted to be comfortable in front of your friends- your pack- you wanted to proceed with your semi clingy antics and stupid bullshit you did with those you really trusted.

• But you didn't want them to leave- you didn't want to be called clingy, or crazy, or dependent.

• So you kept that arms length- for a really long time.

• your 'omega' rarely showed

• but the inevitable happened and you DID get comfortable.

• and new territory came with that.

• you were more open, you were more affectionate, you didn't particularly mind when your 'omega' showed itself- the Alphas, omegas, and Betas in your group didn't seem to particularly mind either.

• your fear lingered- sure- sometimes someone acted 'wrong' and you got scared you did something, you panic quietly and deal with it yourself or ask for quiet reassurance

• and they learned how to deal with it efficiently soon enough

• But then it happened.

• You just wanted attention

• You weren't having the best day and you just wanted someone to hug

• and Katsuki was there

• So you hugged him from behind and he seemed fine with that

• until he had to move

• but you weren't ready to let go- not yet. You needed to calm down, you didn't want to let go.

• He grumbles something and gently moves you off, "You're such a clingy fucking omega." He picks up his phone from the counter.

"Oh. Sorry," you give him a sheepish smile- one thats definitely fake, but it convinces him.

"If I'd known you were so damn needy.." he mumbles to himself as he walks out if the kitchen.

• He didn't mean it of course, you shoukd've known. He had somewhere to go. And you wouldn't let him go.

• but he made no effort to clarify that afterwards- not that you told him it bothered you, how would he know?

• but you were in your head- already having been struggling with the fact that maybe you /were/ too much- just like you'd been told your whole life

• You should've kept them at an arms length.

• You kinda shut down after that

• and they took notice almost immediately

• and it fucking scared them when you started to pull away.

• You rejected scenting, hugs, compliments and voices concerns

• it was stressing Denki out too- the groups second omega who heavily relied on your affection.

• He relied on the way you held him, how you scented him and how you kissed his cheeks

• He relied on the way you ran your thumbs across his cheekbones and counted his freckles

• he relied on your smell-

• and now he didn't have it. Any of it.

• But what really scared them was two weeks later, when your heat approached and you hadn't asked for any of their things

• they'd known you for years- and you always asked for at LEAST one thing from each member

• and you usually wore someones jacket until it hit

• but you hadn't asked for a single damn thing. And you wore a jacket- your own and you refused to let anyone scent it.

• Kirishima had tried- and you were temptedn so fucking temoted to give in. God thats all you really wanted, your friends things- their scents- their noses rubbing along your neck

• but Katsukis words rang through your head again, 'clingy omega,' and that was something you didn't want to be

• so after slightly leaning into the redhead you snapped at him, shoving him off and stroming out of the room.

• they send mina next- well- she goes on her own accord.

• You tell her nothing.

• Then, Denki decides to step in. He misses you- he misses you so much and he can't figure out why you pulled away. You smell different now- not like you usually do. Theres a bitter undertone that never fails to make him wrinkle his nose

• "I mean- do you want anything..? Some shirts, jackets maybe?"

"I don't need them." You say.

"Oh do you already have some?"

"No, I'm not building a nest for this heat."

His eyes widen. "You're- what? Why not?"

"I don't need it. I don't need the groups clothes or help to take care of my stuff. I'll be okay," you give him a soft smile

• When Denki see's the group that night- he immediately goes for Bakugou, grabbing his shirt and shoving him back. "What did you do?" He growls. "What did you fucking say!"

"Hey hey, Kaminari, calm down. Whats going on?"

"She said she's not building a nest. She said she doesn't need us when it comes to her problems." His gaze never left Katsuki. "We worked hard to make her feel okay with us- what did you fucking say!"

Mina and Sero were quiet, eyes training on the blonde.

"I mean I called her clingy awhile ago- but I thought she knew I wasn't being serious, she never said anything to me afterwards so it must not have been a big deal-"

"Not a big deal? You know how paranoid she is!"

"Has she already left?"

Denki nodded. "Fix it."

He smelled sour now, bitter overtook the room- even Sero was affected by it, and the beta was rarely affected by smell.

• That heat was absolute hell for you

• You had no comfort

• You just writhed in your own discomfort- slick pooling down your thighs

• The toys you had brought some comfort- but that was it.

• You didn't have Kirishimas hoodie or Bakugous Favorite shirt.

• Seros jacket or Minas tank top.

• Denkis favorite pair of PJ bottoms, you were alone.

• You had this Heat Buddy that Denki got you, it was a teddy bear and stored scent packets- ones that would he comforting to omegas but it wasn't nearly the same, you decided as you buried your face into the cloth animals stomach

• Youre omega screamed and clawed and cried of the lack of comfort. No familiar smells, no pieces, no staying in touch- no help.

• Your omega kept you on edge the entire week if your heat, not once letting you rest.

• That heat took everything out of you, all your strength, energy, motivation- you almost felt worse coming out of it than you did going in

• Probably had something to do with the lack of comfort, the lack of smell and submission.

• But when you return, you look exhausted and everyone takes notes of it

• They can smell you through the scent patches and its not pleasant.

• You're snappy, on edge and irritable. Constantly on the verge of tears the whole day and /extremely/ protective of yourself.

• Bakusquad is waiting in your fucking dorm room when you get up there

• You don't even have the energy to snarl at them- you just whine.

• Your pack is in the room- and they smell so nice, but they're worried. So so worried.

• The tears threaten to spill over and you drop your keys

• You don't hear exactly whats said, you just know you're sinking to the floor the next minute, head in your hands.

• You're crying and arms wrap around you, ones you immediately recognize to be Katsuki

• You lean into him, apologizing weakly. You didn't mean to be a shitty Omega, you didn't mean to be clingy, you didn't mean it.

• he moves a hand to your cheek.

"It's okay," he murmurs. "You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry, as shouldn't have been so harsh. You're not really clingy,"

"I should've told you it bothered me. Don't apologize."

"No, im definitely in the position too."

• Once you've calmed down, you look half asleep. Katsuki softly noses at your neck and youre more than content with it, finally, /finally/ giving into your omega urges.

• Katsuki carries you do the bed, and your pack surrounds you, smiling gently when he touch you.

• Denki lays his head on your shoulder and you gently rake a hand through his hair before returning it to Seros hand.

• Mina nuzzles your neck, your scent patches long gone

• Kirishima is gently rubbing circles into your wrist before he rubs his own wrist against yours.

• Soon you're asleep, mouth slightly parted, head leaning against Denki, back against Katsukis chest

• Theyre thankful it worked out

• You start wearing their hoodies again. You snuggle into their blankets, you fall asleep in their rooms

• And come your next heat, you're ruffling through draws to find/exactly/ what you want for your nest

• And they let you.

[furiosity-wills-the-cat]

Chara, the fourth Blook cousin:

A crack theory that accidentally become way more serious than it should have because it somehow, despite my best efforts, ended up making sense

Brought to you by my idiot conspiracy brain (affectionate) and by encouragement from my Tumblr followers

Under the cut for the sake of your dashes and sanity

Ok here we go my very elaborate accidental theory, because in order to answer the complex questions simply you must first make simple things more complex or something

First, you need to know that Chara became a Blook cousin by adoption.

All of the Blooks are adopted.

Ghosts are not born into families, they make their own.

Got it? Great, because we’re about to start running

so first, im gonna make surprisingly uncommon claim in this fandom, and I am going to say that undertale ghosts are all dead

I’m taking the tiny details we know about ghosts and sprinting with them to new places

Ghosts also do not have souls I decided

Undertale souls do not work the same as souls in traditional mythology

So every ghost is soulless Unless and Until they become corporeal

Evidence: Monster souls cant exist without bodies, and ghosts are monsters, therefore ghosts cannot have souls without bodies

Further evidence: Asriel doesnt steal blooky’s soul, blooky is unkillable, we have no concrete evidence that blooky has a soul

What about mettaton? He only has a soul after he has completely committed to being corporeal and to a specific body.

Also maddy and mettaton are both only killable while corporeal

Im also connecting the dots we have about souls in a new creative way so let me live for a second

Additionally, i am going to claim that there are a lot more ghosts than just the blooks, some evidence given below

Theres like actual scientific knowlege of ghosts in the undertale verse which seems unlikely if theres literally only three or four

The underground is so much bigger than you think, theres that giant forest in snowdin, a large town in the ruins, the huge city of new home, who knows how much space in the large open areas of waterfall etc. Its really really big okay

Also based off evidence of blooky, we can conclude that ghosts can turn invisible whenever they want to and/or haunt objects to hide

So I personally think that ghosts are, generally speaking, extremely reclusive

And the blooks are just a special exception, a beautiful family, amazing for them

So anyway im going with typical ghost lore for now, for the sake of ease, so im gonna say ghosts generally come from monsters who are particularly restless or unsatisfied when they die

HOWEVER i dont think they remember being monsters or anything before being a ghost. They just kinda fizzle into existance with a fully formed personality and immortality while being unkillable and feeling vaguely uneasy

ALSO i personally think that chara was a ghost for a long time before they became a blook by adoption

Based on game lore, i think ghosts can possess any inanimate object and just kinda wear it? But it takes a lot of strong emotion to become corporeal

And chara is the super weird exception because they were a human not a monster.

They dont have a soul (i headcanon that their soul got destroyed when asriel died)

And they KNOW this, which is a huge part of why they kinda just... give up

Because they lost their ability to fulfill prophecy

Also, without a soul, they lost their ability to reset, so for the first time since falling underground, theyre subject to the relentless march of time

But theyre still weirdly strong and powerful and more emotional

ALSO they DO still remember being a human but they catch on pretty quickly that other ghosts dont have memories and because chara is stupid they just lie to fit in

Theyre too tired to explain themself, they just want to be alone and feel awful

Now back to ghost lore

Emotions are a lot harder for ghosts??? I decided

And they dont know why,, they tend to blame it on the soul thing

But realistically its actually more of the immortality thing making actions not have consequences and/or or not having a body so they cant have a sense of touch or have physical effects of emotion

They all know that ghosts just tend to be way more floaty and bored and numb

And thats part of why the blooks are so special

Maddy’s rage and Mettaton’s yearning and Napstablook’s misery are like... not great all of the time...

but theyre also way way more emotion than most ghosts have,,, they are just a family supporting each other, being as functional as they can,, just an emo(tional) ghost family

most ghosts barely do anything except like stare at walls but the blooks have their snail farm and that helps them have purpose and it is good

And they hold each other accountable and it is nice

So anyway chara just chills and is in a depression coma for a few decades before the blooks find them and are like “our child/baby cousin”

and they raise them for a cool minute

They are all very protective of the new baby emo blook

And chara doesnt get therapy but at the very least they once again have a family, and they decide they want to try to become corporeal eventually just like mtt and maddy

So anyway chara starts hanging out in the ruins a lot more and they finally tell the blooks theyre leaving to go become corporeal in the ruins

This is actually because they are trying to hang out with toriel

because they miss their mom ;;

but chara’s not gonna admit that to anyone, especially not to themself

And because theyre still repressing their emotions constantly and pretending to be fine, they cant become corporeal

And they hang out in the ruins for a long time because they feel guilty lying to everyone about everything

They still feel like its their fault that all the monsters are stuck underground, because they were SUPPOSED to save everyone and they COULDNT and it HURTS

But again, they are doing too much repression to use this guilt to become corporeal,

so instead they just kinda hide and watch toriel from a distance and cry

Blooky visits them the most, thats why blooky is chilling in the ruins so much at the start of the game

Theyre just there to visit their shy baby cousin ;;

Ofc they wont tell frisk about this because chara wants space and privacy and blooky respects that

but maddy and mtt also visit them a lot

Oh also when mtt and maddy start dissapearing, blookys mental health plummets as their family and support system starts to dissolve

Blooky was actually doing extremely well (for a ghost) for a long time, i headcanon,

but theyre doing the worst theyve been in a long long time during the game, because of family issues

So anyway, chara dissapears when frisk shows up, and maddy assumes this is becaude frisk hurt their fragile feelings

Maddy spends hours desperately searching the ruins for chara and cant find them and assumes that they had their heart crushed and went to hide and disappear in a depression coma for another few decades, and thats part of why maddy is so furious with frisk

Like,, to be clear, maddy is still jumping to conclusions and throwing blame around with no proof, but also, its a logical conclusion to come to

And mettaton has already disappeared too and been gone for a while, too, by this point, so it hurts even worse

But anyway, what actually happened to chara is that;

Because chara is a human ghost, not a monster ghost, normal ghost rules dont apply to them

And they can possess living things too they find out

Maybe they knew it a long time ago, maybe its a new discovery, but for whatever reason they end up possessing frisk and theyre like “what the heck”

And frisk still has most of the control

But now chara is like,,, “this is my chance, im a human again, gotta save the world for real,,,”

and they cant explain this to anyone without revealing their past

so they just chill in frisk’s mind while being super crypic and trying to figure out how it works

Pacifist route, this is pretty much exactly what happens

They manage to help frisk save the day

And in my headcanon, the no mercy route is started by frisk who is scared when faced by monsters attacking them

And then chara, who was aready hiding in a semidepression coma for a while, immediately transitions to a panicked “gotta protect this body, gotta protect my chance to be human, i died and threw away my chance to save everyone the first time, i CANNOT lose this chance again”

And so the combination of both frisk and chara is the genocide run

Because frisk kills in self defense, and whenever frisk hesitates, chara jumps in

Also theres leftover feelings from the whole asriel incident

Because again, ghosts come from monsters who died unsatisfied

And chara’s main source of unsatisfaction is how they were trying to get asriel to kill people before he died and then he didnt

So thats a strong strong feeling ruling them

So anyway by the time they both realize how bad its become they figure its too late and also the amount of LOVE has made them numb

And thats when chara who, despite everything, still has idiot hero complex and thinks they need to save the world

So, while panicking, they step in at the very end, and erase the timeline and delete everything

And also to clarify

They DONT HAVE this power at any other point in the game

Because, guess why

They become corporeal

Just like maddy, the no mercy route is the only thing that gives them strong enough emotion to spontaneously become corporeal

So they become corporeal and as soon as they have a soul again and can reset again, they just erase everything

Ok back to fluff

Post pacifist route, they are still a non corporeal ghost

They can still float around and look just like the other blooks

And it takes them a while to open up about things, but they do end up moving back in with blooky so that blooky isnt completely alone

And also they do way better with a family

Also they can float through the mountain and talk to flowey down below and bring him news

And now that they know about him, they can bond with him and explain that they dont have a soul either but that doesnt mean theyre worthless

Oh ALSO

The other dead humans dont have ghosts

BECAUSE

ghosts only come from restless dead MONSTERS

and chara is the weird special exception

Because they were a monster when they died

They became a ghost and asriel didnt because they were way more restless and stressed than asriel was when both of them died

Like sure, asriel felt awful, but chara was the one who was way more like “this is my fault, i CANT die now, the world NEEDS me”

So anyway

charablook the emo tween ghost and asriel flowey the eldrich goat daisy are siblings once more and they hang out and eventually they are okay and have a family again

Thank you for reading, this has been my thoughts on a crack theory that accidentally went too far

This isnt even everything, maybe i’ll make a part two eventually, but i promised to have this post out like two days ago, so i wanted to post SOMTHING

Anyway leave your thoughts if youd like

Im not looking for people to disprove it, i already know its crazy, i dont think it was intentional by the game writers, but i do think its a fun concept

thats the fun of it, so if anyone wants to run with it im all for it lol

Thanks again! Have a nice day!

[ateezmakemeweep]

mingi x reader x wooyoung

word count: 25k

angst, smut

(part 1)

even before your relationship with wooyoung ended the way it did, you always wondered what drove people to cheat? did they just never care from the start, basing the relationship off lies and fake smiles, or did something happen down the line? 

were there problems that only one person could see and didn’t feel comfortable enough talking about to the other? did they feel neglected or unloved, like they needed to seek out that affection and validation elsewhere?

or did they really just have no regard for another person, selfishly occupied with their own pleasures and needs while realizing, maybe, they didn’t care if they hurt the person or not.

if you asked your ex-boyfriend, he’d say it was none of the above - he’d say that it simply just happened.

that one second, he was in love with you and the next, he somehow found himself in a whirlwind of kisses and touches behind closed doors with someone who wasn’t you.

that while he knew it was wrong and unfair to you, a part of him felt like he couldn’t stop. like he could keep up this affair of being a sweet, loving boyfriend but also someone another person found desirable and attractive.

enjoyed the rush and thrill of doing something forbidden, even though it felt wrong.

but of course, he didn’t tell you any of this; you hadn’t talked to him since he cried outside of his dorm building begging you for another chance. 

the same way you cried on the whole ride home and into your pillow that night, the night after that, and the night after that for about two whole months.

you can even admit, looking back at it now, eight months later, that you handled the breakup in a very cliche way: crying into a box of chocolates in bed and swearing that love didn’t exist. it was sad to you then, to believe so young that what you once felt was the best feeling in the world didn’t exist.

but the more time went on, the more you saw maybe you’d jumped the gun on that.

because just a few short weeks after the breakup, blocking wooyoung on every form of social media and telling your parents to never allow him in the house, you heard a knock at your door.

you approached it warily, eyeing the spray bottle on the counter and debating on arming yourself with that, before you saw a tall, familiar head through the glass window that definitely wasn’t your ex’s.

“how do you know where i live?” was the first question out of your mouth, not being able to keep the bite out of your tone or annoyance from crossing your face at mingi’s dejected form in front of you.

he had tried to talk to you the first few days after the incident, begging you to just hear him out and insist he never wanted you to feel stupid or in the dark; but that’s exactly how you felt. 

how could you not, after knowing everyone in wooyoung’s life knew about him and lisa except you? everyone who saw you and him together, looked you in the face and smiled at you two together, while also being fully aware of what him and another girl were doing.

“nice to see you too,” mingi said, his hand toying at the back of his hair nervously, an awkward smile creeping up on his face as he tries to lighten the tense mood.

but you’re only a few weeks out of the gate of being cheated on and humiliated, the boy in front of you harboring that information until it all blew it up in your face in the most upsetting way; so you can only roll your eyes and slam the door in his.

or at least attempt to, before his foot slips through the open space and halts it.

“y/n, wait-”

“no, mingi. i have nothing else to say to you.”

“i know and i don’t blame you,” the boy says, his soft, kind voice a stark contrast to his large, looming appearance. “but you deserve an apology. just give me ten minutes to try and explain.”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you look up at mingi, annoyance flooding through your veins as you’re tempted to tell him to go fuck himself. that no explanation is gonna excuse him harboring that knowledge for months. 

and he must know it too, because his face twists into one of remorse as he mutters a quietly spoken “please.”

and a small part of you knows he’s not the one who deserves this harsh reaction. he’s not the one who cheated and betrayed your trust; he had some allegiance to you, sure, being that he was your friend, but not as much as wooyoung did. 

he didn’t promise to love you and assure you there was nothing to worry about that. that he only had eyes for you and wouldn’t even think about betraying your trust or affections. he didn’t look you in the face and promise he’d never hurt you because he loved you more than anyone.

and even so, he looks almost as pathetic and desperate as your ex did when he was begging you for a second chance.

“five,” you snap shortly, backing away from the door and watching as mingi’s eyes light up in surprise.

he gives you a small smile that would usually soften your heart but only proves to make you raise an eyebrow, leading him to the living room where he fills you in on the truth about the past six months.

how when they first kissed at a random party, wooyoung was shitfaced and didn’t even remember the next morning; it was lisa showing him a picture her friend had snapped in the span of a few seconds that reminded him, guilt flooding through him as he told the girl that could never happen again.

but it did end up happening again. when wooyoung wasn’t shitfaced and lisa was there in his dorm alone.

“he said that lisa was crying, something about feeling alone and upset, because all her friends had boyfriend’s and she felt like a single loser,” mingi says, remembering how down and confused his roommate was the next day when he came home. “and then before he knew what happened, she leaned in and kissed him and he...”

mingi looks up to gauge your reaction and sees you’re just watching him blankly, cold, emotionless eyes that don’t give away the fact hearing this is making you wanna cry and scream all over again.

“he was conflicted,” is what mingi decides on saying. 

“not conflicted enough though,” you say, a mix of sadness and humor in your tone as you shake your head. “they were still fucking for two months after that.”

“they never fucked,” mingi is quick to clarify. 

you raise your eyebrow and he nods his head as if to say it’s really true, your teeth sinking into your cheek again.

“they kissed and did...other shit,” mingi says, not thinking you wanna hear that wooyoung accepted far too many blowjobs from the girl. “but they never fucked. he said he...couldn’t.”

“wow. what a guy.”

you can’t even try to keep the dryness out of your tone and it causes mingi to press his lips together so he doesn’t smirk, instead looking over your face and frowning when he notices your eyes are puffy.

“i didn’t say that so you take him back or anything,” mingi says quietly, “i just... he told me all of this and i said he had to stop. that it wasn’t fair to you, even if it was just kissing and blowjobs.”

you wince upon hearing it put so harshly, mingi cringing as he realizes he let the details slip out.

“sorry,” he mumbles, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head.

“it doesn’t matter. i’m over it.”

mingi’s eyebrow raises as he looks over your face again, not commenting on the puffiness under your eyes or the fact your hands are pressing into one another anxiously.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you,” he says after a few silent moments, his voice laced with such sadness and sympathy you can’t help but meet his gaze. 

“i told him so many times to cut the shit, that it wasn’t fair and i was gonna tell you. but, really, a part of me felt like it wasn’t my place and i...i really just didn’t wanna make you sad,” he says, his voice and eyes honest and sweet even though you find his words incredibly stupid. 

“i know that’s so stupid,” the boy acknowledges, a dry, humorless tone in his voice. “but i almost...wanted him to get caught, you know? so you saw it firsthand and realized, like, your worth, i guess. even though seeing that would’ve made you sad too, so i... i guess i really just don’t fucking know. i didn’t know what to do.”

and you don’t know if it’s because of his rambling or the absurdity of the situation but you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, air leaving your nose that has mingi looking at you in surprise.

“you’re right,” you say a smile quirking at your lips that has mingi looking over your face carefully. “that is stupid.” 

“but it’s also stupid to be mad at you, i guess,” you say when he looks down in embarrassment, emphasizing your last two words sarcastically as you sit back on the couch and look him over. “wooyoung was the one who was supposed to be loyal to me, not you.”

“but kind of me, too,” mingi says softly, his arm reaching out to pluck a piece a hair off your shoulder absentmindley. his touch is gentle and warm and his long fingers linger on your skin, the move shocking you as much as it comforts you.

mingi had been touchy and affectionate after just a few weeks of you knowing him, one to pull someone in for a hug or wrap an arm around their shoulder opposed to a stiff, clammy handshake. it was something you liked about him immediately, how warm and innocently affectionate he was.

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch his fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses mingi’s face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

you’ve never seen a smile as big as the one that crosses mingi’s face after you say that, his arm reaching out and pulling you into him; the boy really does underestimate his size and strength, though, dragging you right across the couch and straight into his hard body where he begins to stammer out more apologies.

“tell you what,” you say, craning your neck to look up at him. “the next time some asshole’s cheating on me, just tell me right away and i’ll accept these 200 apologies from you, yeah?”

“there’s not gonna be a next time,” mingi promises, his familiar scent and loud, happy voice bouncing off your living room walls. “because i’ll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you again.”

you roll your eyes as you push him over on the couch, letting out one of your first genuine giggles in weeks as you watch him flop on the cushions like a fish out of water.

and you really think mingi’s what you got through the months that followed that conversation.

because if he wasn’t driving down every few weekends to hang out, you were texting and facetiming almost every hour of the day. 

he helped you through the rest of your senior year, when senioritis hit it’s peak and you all but refused to do any homework or projects. he was the first person you called when you needed motivation (or distractions), talking into the wee hours of the morning or falling asleep on facetime together.

he was also the first person you called when college acceptance letters came in, his deep, happy voice expressing how he knew you were gonna get in.

“and you’re gonna go to the one only thirty minutes away from me, yeah?” he asked playfully, your eyes rolling as you plopped down on your bed.

“yeah, right,” you giggle out, looking over the three pamphlets as you, really, try to consider how to even begin the process of choosing.

that’s another thing mingi ended up helping you with, weighing the pros and cons of each school with you and even suggesting you drive up to him so you can tour the college close to his.

you don’t know for sure but maybe that’s why you ended up accepting that offer, after seeing the beautiful campus in person, the friendly students and ‘spacious’ dorm rooms that looked a whole lot better than two out of state schools you’d have to wait until the summer to see.

but if you asked mingi, he’d say it was absolutely because of him - because now you could see him every day. now he could easily help move you in and bring you lunch and show you the spots off campus where they never check ids or question a bad fake.

and while all of those were certainly helpful, you especially liked that, when classes started up and nearly knocked you on your ass, mingi was there to help you some more.

“you said professors were nice!” you squealed, hitting him in the arm as you two walked into a coffee shop smack in the middle of your two colleges; it’s also the coffee shop you waited pathetically in this past valentine’s day, but you try to let that painful memory slip your mind.

“hey! i’m sorry, most of them are!” mingi defends, his eyes widening and a laugh nearly bursting from his mouth when he sees the five syllabuses you throw onto the table.

“oh? then what is this?”

and sure enough, almost every class lists required textbooks costing over $150, several papers throughout the year, and a strict two-absence policy that will result in a whole letter grade drop if broken.

“and then if we miss because of a death in the family, we have to bring proof! what kind of sick shit is that?” you squeak, arms flying and eyes nearly bulging out of your head; if you were already this fucked after only a week of classes, you don’t even wanna know how you’re gonna be when real work starts.

mingi takes a hold of your arms to stop your flailing, his large, warm hands seeping through the sleeves of your shirt causing you to look up at him.

“babe...you gotta calm down.”

you don’t remember when he started dropping little pet names like that, or when his touches got more frequent and lingered, but you only know it’s something you guys don’t comment on. how, sometimes, both of you can even hear the others fastened heartbeat if you’re close enough or will meet gazes before shyly looking away.

you look up at him with a pout, the teasing smirk on his handsome face making you wanna stomp on his foot.

“i don’t wanna take a picture with my grandma’s corpse,” you whine, knowing that if anyone were watching you both right now, they’d think you were nuts.

“and you won’t have to,” mingi says, an inappropriate laugh bubbling from his mouth that causes you to smack his arm roughly. “why are you hitting me!” he yelps, a soft, amused smile on his face. “i’m trying to help you.”

and because you’re whining and he’s laughing, amused eyes locked on one another while his hands run up and down your arms soothingly, you both miss the fact that someone was around to see you both.

someone watching with hard eyes and a sinking heart at hearing your familiar laugh, at seeing your eyes twinged with amusement and happiness looking at someone who isn’t him.

but he knows he doesn’t deserve to see that anymore. that he ruined that chance with you and he shouldn’t even be surprised that you were able to move on to someone better.

even if that someone was his friend, a fact that’s making his blood boil right about now.

“you good?”

yeosang’s voice pierces wooyoung’s ears the second they leave the coffee shop, a knowing look on the boy’s face as the other can only shrug.

“yeah,” wooyoung says quietly, looking back through the window to see you dragging mingi to the counter by the hand. 

your touches look comfortable and familiar, like you’d spent weeks, or even months, growing closer to one another; he knows that it takes you a while to warm up to people, only letting a select few in - which now probably worsened after the shit he did.

with that knowledge, he also knows that it doesn’t even matter if he wasn’t good (which he’s not, he feels it in the way his chest is aching and veins are burning) because he knew it was a mistake. 

he knew sneaking around and lying to you was leading him down a path that would cost him the best thing that ever happened to him. he was the one suffering without you while you’re, apparently, able to move on.

and evidently, he’s also the one whose always been selfish - hoping that there’s a way you’ll somehow forgive him and see that, even though he wronged you, a part of him still wants you.

and he always gets what he wants.

“y/n, c’mon pleaseeee.” 

it’s the eighth time mingi whined that sentence to you over the phone this week, a sigh leaving your mouth as you smack your hands onto your comforter. 

“mingi, i’ve said the same thing for the past four days! what makes you think my answer’s gonna be any different tonight?”

the first month of school had, admittedly, kicked your ass. 

it wasn’t even that the work was challenging or daunting, you liked what you were learning and you even made a few friends in your classes, but it just feels like you’ve never gotten a moment to yourself since this all started.

if you’re not surrounded by classmates or your roommate, you’re working at the coffee shop you and mingi frequented so much, they offered you a job. but with your roommate gone this weekend and you not on the work schedule till sunday evening, you intended to spend the next two days in bed.

catching up on shows, taking naps in between, taking some time to catch up on reading -  you were only gonna move when your bladder and stomach begged you to, not a tall, whiney man.

“because i’m begging,” mingi sighs, knowing with 100% certainty you’re already curled up in bed with your laptop in front of you. “how many fucking times are you gonna rewatch love alarm?”

your mouth drops open as your eyes fall to the screen, jojo and sun-oh’s faces staring back at yours causing your cheeks to flush; how the hell did he know that first of all?

“until season two comes out,” you whine back, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth before he sighs. you roll your eyes at the sound, pushing yourself to your feet to grab water from the mini fridge. “if you wanna hang out so bad, come over tonight and watch with me.”

“you know i would but i already told people i was coming,” he explains, a pout on his face he wishes you could see in an effort to persuade you (even though you’d probably just curl your lip in disgust). 

“then have fun and enjoy! i’ll be watching sun-oh whisk jojo away and-”

“i know why you don’t wanna go.”

the words die in your throat just as you hear him say that, his voice low and sympathetic that has you poking your tongue into your cheek; he only uses that voice when he thinks you’re about to be upset by something. 

and it’s not hard for you to gather what he’s thinking, given that he wants you to go to your ex-boyfriend’s campus party. 

“if you’re thinking what i think you’re thinking, then you’re wrong.”

because if he has this notion that you don’t wanna run into wooyoung, then yes, he’s wrong. sure, you don’t wanna particularly see him, but it’s been months. you’re over him and you know he’s over you, there’d be no reason to alter your life in hopes to avoid him. 

“what do you think i’m thinking?”

“we’re not doing this, mingi,” you groan, pushing yourself away from the counter and heading right toward your warm bed. “i’m not going for no other reason than i wanna stay in my bed for the next two days. you can come over after if you want but i’m not setting foot in that disgusting frat house. have fun and don’t drink too much!”

and with that, you hang up and crawl under the blankets with a content smile on your face. 

one that drops when you hear a knock on your door thirty minutes later, already knowing by the distinct pattern that it’s no other than the boy you hung up at the start of your episode. 

“that was a quick party,” you say when you open the door, leaning against the frame as you stare at mingi with a raised eyebrow. 

he looks the same way he did during the conversation that rekindled your friendship, his hand toying at the back of his hair and a nervous smile on his face. 

“yeah...” he laughs out awkwardly, the stare he’s giving you causing you to shake your head immediately. 

“you didn’t go, did you?”

“no. i wanted to pick you up first.”

he sees fury cross your face and your arm reaching out to smack him, his hand quickly catching it and pulling you into him.

“c’monnn, we’ll only stay for an hour. and then we’ll come back here and finish love alarm for the 700th time.” 

your eyebrows narrow at you stare up at the boy, so annoyed at him ruining your night you don’t even realize how close your bodies are pressed up against one another. his hard, toned chest against yours that would, without a doubt, make you flush if you realized. 

“please,” he whines, a pout on his face as he tightens his hold on you. “i don’t wanna go alone, i told them i was bringing a friend. and i miss you. we haven’t seen each other in a few days and-

“just shut up,” you growl, pulling him in your room by his shirt because you just know he’s fucking relentless. you close your laptop begrudgingly, throwing him a dirty look before you go to the closet to change out of your sweatpants. 

“you should wear the jeans with the-”

the look you throw his way immediately causes him to stop talking, a smirk crossing your face as you turn away and curse him out in your head for looking so handsome, maybe you couldn’t resist walking in with him tonight. 

but you also couldn’t resist the way your eyes roamed the crowded frat house forty minutes later, the familiar scent of alcohol and sweat invading your senses. 

there’s just as many people as last year when you came, a sticky cluster of bodies that is all too off putting when you were just bound to your bed in pajamas and fuzzy socks. 

you’re also all too aware of the setting that’s giving you flashbacks, beer pong tables and what seems like dozens of pretty girls with dark hair littering the house - it’s making you far more uncomfortable than you care to admit.

“y/n,” you hear a voice say, your neck turning toward the male presence. it takes you a few seconds to remember who he is, attractive features you remember thinking were so regal causing you to smile politely. 

“you should tell him it bothers you,” you hear yeosang say, looking over at the boy with a wide eyed gaze. he says it so straight forwardly that it causes you to grow nervous, biting your lip before you open your mouth to speak.

“what?”

he raises his eyebrow and you know he’s seeing through your lie. the lie that you’re not all bothered by being here and watching him play with another girl. a girl you’re almost positive has ill-intentions. and now you see where yeosang’s bluntness comes in.

“that him and lisa make you uncomfortable,” yeosang tells you, looking over and seeing them smile at one another in victory. “because you’re worried, aren’t you?”

it’s the first time it’s been verbalized and it makes your stomach squeeze painfully, sadness and anger and disappointment flooding through you. 

“should i be?” you squeak, since you know he sees you them a lot more than you.

“i don’t know,” he says, the both of you looking over in time to see lisa smack wooyoung’s arm playfully as she throws her head back. “should you be?”

that was the first and only conversation you had with the boy and yet he hinted more to you than anyone else in your life at the time; granted it was still early in but he had obviously saw something, too.

maybe a suspicious glint in wooyoung’s eye, lingering over lisa despite your presence a few feet away. maybe he could tell you weren’t gonna be enough to keep him loyal, maybe he-

you shake your head of these thoughts, reminding yourself that you’re over this.

you’re over him and the way he made you feel and everything about the whole breakup entirely; why would you want someone who, when it came down to it, didn’t want you back?

“hi, yeosang,” you say with a sweet smile, mingi greeting the shorter boy before someone else pulls his attention away. you let out a sigh and roll your eyes, a deep chuckle leaving the boy who pats the seat next to him.

he’s not surprised to see you but he is surprised that you came here tonight, of all places. where he knows wooyoung is lingering and knows when he sees you, he’s gonna come over with sorrow in his eyes and a voice to match. 

ever since the breakup, yeosang had been the one there for wooyoung. he knew what the boy was doing was wrong, and he felt bad for you, but he also knew wooyoung could do anything and he’d still be there for him.

he could disagree with him and find his actions and decisions questionable but in the end, he’d be there for him. 

that’s why he saw and tended to the breakdown wooyoung went through after everything happened. watched the boy become a shell of the person he’d been,  no longer happy and bubbly and, instead, drowning his sorrows with alcohol when he wasn’t doing the bare minimum for school.

yeosang had to tell him more often than not, with some tough love, that he had ruined everything between you two. and for him to wish that he could talk to you or get another chance was incredibly selfish. 

but through all of that, he was there for him. would stop him from drinking himself into a coma or take him out of the house to distract him any chance he got. 

especially because a few weeks after everything, mingi had started distancing himself. the boys had still lived together until the semester ended in may, but it’d been obvious the boy wasn’t as...tolerant of wooyoung as he was. 

and now he sees why. with the way mingi’s soft eyes are looking at you from across the room, watching closely as you sit down next to him and send a polite smile his way.

“so what, you loved these parties so much you decided to come to school here?” yeosang smiles teasingly, a deep chuckle leaving him when your face turns into a grimace.

you tell him how you go to the school just a half hour away, how it was the only school you were able to tour in person and how, with sinking suspicions, that mingi played a big role in you coming here.

“my roommate is so nice though,” you share with him, a happy smile on your face as you tell him about the girl whose face piercings and dark makeup are a complete contrast to her sweet, soft-spoken personality; you remember thinking when you first met that she was gonna rip your head off, especially because you came in jabbering with an even more excitable mingi.

but she loved him and you immediately and as far as roommates went, you couldn’t be happier. 

“and i work at a coffee shop now. i was a little thrown off the first few weeks but i think i’ve finally adjusted,” you giggle out, a small smirk on his face that you find far too endearing.

“that’s good,” yeosang says before he reluctantly adds, “i’ve seen you working there a few times.”

“oh?” 

your eyebrows pull together as you cock your head to the side in confusion; you’d never seen him in there before. and you think you would’ve recognized him immediately, even outside of this sleazy frat house. 

“yeah, the first week of classes we were there and saw you and mingi,” he says, “then i went back and saw you working behind the counter.”

you don’t comment on the we, because you have a good feeling about who he’s talking about, so you only nod and smile, telling him to say hi next time and you’ll give him a cookie on the house. 

“i know she didn’t just offer you a free cookie,” mingi says, plopping down next to you and throwing his arm around you. “i ask all the time and she laughs in my face.”

“because you come in every day!” you squeal, smacking in the stomach lightly. “they’d go broke and i’d be fired.”

“you’re a grimy fuck to even ask,” yeosang says, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth at the look on mingi’s face. you listen to the boys bicker back and forth as your eyes roam the room, everything about the scene so familiar but also different. 

you don’t feel uncomfortable or nervous for the same reasons you did a year ago, when the music was too loud and the scent was overwhelming and there were just too many people.

now you’re uncomfortable and nervous about just who’s lingering in this crowd, like you’re about to be met with something, or someone rather, that’s gonna hurt you. 

even though you’ve convinced yourself that you’re okay and you won’t care. you won’t care in the slightest if you see lisa under wooyoung’s arm across the room, if you see now that those months really did mean something to them and they were able to prevail.

nope. it won’t bother you at all; in fact, you think two people like that probably deserve each other.

but your roaming eyes say otherwise. the nervous knot in the pit of your stomach and the way you press yourself closer to mingi (in a way he doesn’t comment on but welcomes) says if you see them together, you might lose your shit just a little bit. 

“you good?” mingi asks lowly in your ear, his large hand falling onto your knee. you feel the warmth through your jeans and the indents of his rings against your leg, looking up at him with a forced, tight smile.

“i’d be better if i was in bed like i planned,” you say through clenched teeth, a deadly look in your eye that should make him fearful but just makes him laugh.

“oh, c’mon, aren’t you having fun? you got to see your old friend-”

“yeosang.”

and like the universe was showing mingi just how much fun it was allowing you to have tonight, a voice that makes your blood run cold finishes mingi’s sentence.

your eyes snap to the boy you haven’t seen in over eight months, a face that once made you so stupidly happy with his wide smile and sparkling eyes; you remember when you first met him, you were so confused by the look them. 

why he looked at you so fondly and made your heart flutter even though it shouldn’t have been.

and that’s the exact feeling you’re getting right now, seeing the boy who, the last time you looked at him was crying and begging and desperate, look at you with glossed over eyes and not a hint of a smile.

“hey, woo,” yeosang says, noticing his friend’s lingering gaze and your obvious discomfort; he doesn’t think an atmosphere has ever gotten so tense so fast. 

it takes him a second to stutter out the response “hi,” his eyes moving from yours to mingi’s hand on your leg before back to you. you can’t help the way you quirk an eyebrow at him, almost daring him to say something about mingi’s hands on you before he shakes it off and looks to yeosang.

you only listen to the boys speak as you look down at your feet, mingi’s arm tightening around you when you start to wiggle them. it’s a nervous habit he’s picked up on after these months of getting to know you and, apparently, he’s not the only one who remembers it.

“you do that every time i sit next to you.”

you peer up at the senior who’s insisted on spending lunch with you for the past three weeks, the ever-present teasing smile on his cocky face making your eyebrows pull together.

“do what?”

he nods his head down to the floor where you’re tapping away, toes wiggling in your shoes as the balls of your feet bounce up and down slightly. 

your cheeks flush and you shrug your shoulders, not wanting him to know that, while you’re confused by his company, it doesn’t make you any less aware of how attractive he is. doesn’t make the stupid little crush you’ve developed on him any less intense or you any less nervous.

“oh,” you say quietly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks that makes his teasing smile widen. 

“yeah, oh,” he mocks, his eyes lighting up with amusement you know it’s directed toward you. you narrow yours at him but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest, his foot hitting yours under the table playfully. 

“it’s okay, i think i just make you a little nervous.”

“nervous?” you ask, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head. “why on earth would i be nervous?”

and with a playful cock of his head, a smile on his face that only grew softer and sweeter over time, he so boldly said “because you like me too, don’t you?”

you catch wooyoung looking at your feet and immediately stop bouncing them, putting your right sneaker over your left before looking up at mingi with a small smile. 

“i’m gonna go get a drink.”

“i’ll come with-”

“it’s fine, it’s right there,” you say, nodding your head into the kitchen only a few feet away. 

you leave before mingi can even respond, quickly getting up and scurrying away from the tense atmosphere you know is partially because of you. you need to just get away from all of that for a second, knowing that this was a possibility tonight but didn’t think it would happen so fast.

it’s easy to think you’re over something when you’re not presented directly with it but, now, seeing him makes all those masked feelings come to the surface.

how hurt and betrayed and upset you were by what he did. how you tried to convince yourself that you were over everything simply because you know you deserve better; and while you know that, it still doesn’t quell the memories.

doesn’t stop you from thinking about the nights before he went away to school, the two of you under the stars when he assured you he loved you and didn’t wanna break up with you. teased you for thinking he’d wanna break up with his high school girlfriend when he went off to college.

“i don’t wanna break up,” you whimpered against him, your hands fisting his grey sweatshirt as you hid your face in his neck. he pressed a kiss to your head, bringing a hand to your back as he rubbed up and down soothingly.

“who said anything about breaking up, my love?” he cooed, the term of endearment causing your stomach to swoop. 

“i-i just assumed you wouldn’t wanna be with your high school girlfriend in college,” you say quietly against him. “it would make sense, i guess, so i can’t say i blame you but-”

he brings your face to his as he places a firm kiss on your lips, melting into you as he palms your cheek softly. you kiss him back immediately, feeling your heart break at the thought of never being able to do this again.

“i don’t know why you’re thinking like that,” he mumbles once he pulls back, running his hand through your hair before tucking the strands behind your ear. “but get those thoughts out of your head. i’m not breaking up with you, baby. in case you forgot, i just told you i loved you the other day.”

“i know but-”

“but what?” he asks with a smirk, pushing you down on your back and rubbing the stray tear off your cheek. “you think i just say shit to say it?”

“no, but-”

“then stop. i’ll tell everyone at college i have a high school girlfriend and they won’t have shit to say about it.”

it doesn’t stop you from remembering how much his voice and eyes used to calm you, how, in a setting like this, one look from him would completely put you at ease and make you feel better. 

“y/n.”

you immediately grow tense at wooyoung’s voice saying your name, not having heard it fall from his lips in what felt like forever. 

you’re debating whether you even wanna turn around and look at him again, knowing you can just go on your way and completely ignore him. knowing you should go on your way and completely ignore him.

but instead you turn to him and give him a blank look, waiting for him to say something else before you turn back and rummage through the cooler for a soda. your hand searches through the freezing ice for a red can of coke, the tips of your fingers growing numb as you fish through the water.

partially because you can’t find one and partially because you don’t wanna turn back around and face him.

“you drink now?” 

your neck cranes up to look at wooyoung, his eyes soft and curious as he looks down at you. you hate how your body still responds to him, how he still looks so handsome but also like he lost a little bit of weight. 

you hate how a part of you is concerned about that, wondering if he hasn’t been eating well or is doing drugs harder than pot.

“no,” is all you say shortly, deeming your efforts for a soda useless and shaking the wetness off your hand. your eyes fall to his empty ones and you raise an eyebrow, surprised not to see some sort of can of alcohol near him. 

“i don’t really drink anymore,” he offers after a few silent seconds, your eyes raising to his before mingi’s voice plays in your mind - “wooyoung was so shitfaced the first time they kissed, he didn’t even remember. he didn’t know until lisa showed him a picture.”

“i didn’t really ask,” you say before you can stop yourself, his face falling before a sigh leaves his mouth. 

“i guess i deserve that,” he mumbles lowly, your teeth sinking into your cheek before you turn to leave. 

you begin to wonder why mingi and yeosang let him follow you in the first place before you feel a hand lightly touch the back of your arm, your neck snapping back and arm pulling away when he mutters your name pleadingly. 

“how have you-”

“we’re not doing this.”

“i just wanna talk, y/n,” he says quietly, the sad desperation obvious in his tone. “i haven’t seen or talked to you in months.”

“and why is that, woo?” 

you don’t even mean for the nickname to fall from your lips but it does, twists his stomach in a way that makes him feel even more shitty and defeated and guilty. 

tears prick your eyes as you realize you haven’t said that name since febuary, his own softened gaze on you making you shake your head and take a step back. 

“if we could just talk for a few-”

“we’re not doing this,” you repeat firmly, taking a step away from his looming presence. “i wasn’t even supposed to come tonight.”

“but you came with...mingi?” he asks lowly, like spitting the boy’s name out was the hardest thing he had to do in months. 

but you bet what you had to do over these past few months was harder. 

finish school while also dealing with the heartbreak that comes with being betrayed in such an awful way. building back up your confidence and worth and trying so hard to convince yourself you didn’t do anything wrong. 

that’s why you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, holding back the slew of curse threatening to leave your mouth. 

“yeah. i did,” you say confidently, your eyes roaming back to mingi to see him making his way over to you. “and i’m sure there’s someone waiting around here for you, too.”

you watch his face crumble and mouth open to speak but you’re quick to shake your head and walk to mingi, rage filling your chest when you feel wooyoung’s warm, strong hand grab you by the wrist.

“y/n, wait-”

“don’t touch me,” you spit out, ripping your arm away from him harshly. 

you can see he regrets the movement the second you look at him but can’t find it in yourself to care, giving him one last look before walking over to mingi - his face, too, is apologetic but much more fearful than your ex’s.

“he said he was going over to-”

“love alarm. now. before i bash your head in and never agree to anything ever again.”

“we’ll pick up snacks,” he says, a hesitant, happy smile creeping up on his face despite your unwavering expression. “my treat.”

“no shit your treat,” you grumble, your hand snaking through mingi’s larger one as you pull him out of the frat house into the cool, fall air. 

it’s the much needed crispness you need after the sweaty, tense air you were just subjected to, you and mingi hand in hand as you walk to his car parked a few blocks away. 

there’s only a few moments of silence before he addresses the elephant in the room.

“did he say something to you?”

you look up to see mingi staring at you with a soft expression, a sigh leaving your mouth as you nod your head. he stops you both from walking, his hand moving to your hip as you two stand in the street.

there’s a soft glow on him cast from the street light, his eyes roaming your face making his heart pang in your chest. he can see your tense and upset right now, your lips rolling over one another like when you’re trying not to cry or scream.

“are you okay?” he asks softly, a question that would usually make you roll your eyes making your face soften; you know the boy has his faults, a little confused and naive and doesn’t always make the right choices, but he always means well.

he truly cares for people and doesn’t like seeing them sad.

“i’m okay,” you confirm with a small nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips. “i...it’s over now, you know. it’s different seeing him after all this time. harder than i thought, really, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

mingi nods his head as he squeezes your hip lightly, taking your hand back in his. they swing playfully in between your bodies, a touch that seems very juvenile and platonic filling you with a warmth you don’t think you should be feeling yet. 

you told yourself to wait a year. you even heard somewhere that, for as long as you’ve been with someone in your younger years, you should try to be single for the same amount of time afterward.

take a moment to focus on yourself and ‘soul search’ for the things you want in life.

but having mingi by your side has made that goal harder, or maybe easier depending on how you look at it; especially because his touches linger and make you want more. his eyes watch you so softly and the smile that lights up his face when he first sees you makes you happier than you’ve been in a while. 

“we’re not friends with her anymore.” 

you don’t expect him to say that but it makes your eyes widen. 

because for as long as you guys have discussed wooyoung and the situation, neither of you have ever addressed lisa directly. where she is now or if they remained friends - you told him a million times that you didn’t care.

and even after seeing wooyoung tonight, you want that to still ring true; but again, your actions don’t match your thoughts.

“oh?”

“yeah. a few weeks after that happened, woo refused to be in the same room as her. said it made him sick.”

a scornful laugh threatens to leave your mouth at that, since the last time you’d seen them together, their tongues were down each other’s throats and he was mostly definitely not sick by it.

“anytime we were with her and her friends, he’d leave and say he didn’t wanna be around her. then he just started to avoid us so we eventually just cut them all off. we didn’t really like them anyway, to be honest.”

it takes you a few moments to process his words but it proves to just be too much for your emotionally drained, distraught mind.

“why are you telling me this?”

mingi’s hand tightens ever so slightly on yours as you two continue to walk, his thumb rubbing against your cold skin as the silence remains. 

you can only hear the gravel beneath your feet and the last few cicadas that can stand the crip fall weather, looking ahead in the darkness and wondering if he’s ever gonna answer you. 

“because he’s waiting for you.”

your feet halt and you look up at him, eyes wide and shocked as he looks down at you. you can’t quite make out the expression on his face, maybe something like fear or hesitance that makes your heart lurch. 

“he...told yeosang he wants you to forgive him. and to give him another chance.”

a little bit of every emotion rips through you at this knowledge, rage and annoyance and outrage but also a little bit of sadness you’re not ready to address.

“he’s got balls, i’ll give him that,” you mutter, a smirk quirking on mingi’s lips as he nods his head. he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, torn between his lasting bits of loyalty to wooyoung but his feelings for you. 

because over these past few months, he’s wanted nothing more than to kiss you and hug you and make you see you can trust him - not only as a friend but a boyfriend. 

a much better boyfriend than the one you had; but he understands you need a friend and he’s okay with that - more than okay, really. though the looks you give him make his heart pound just a little harder, like when you lean your head on his shoulder during a movie or play with his fingers until you fall asleep on his lap. 

“but...i think there’s better people out there for me,” you say quietly, head cocked to the side as you start to toy with his long fingers. it’s flirty and daring and maybe a little vengeful after your conversation with wooyoung but you also know it’s genuine. 

that the feelings you have for mingi and the way he makes your chest warm is very much so real. 

“don’t you think?”

a smile lights up his face and he has to tell his heart to calm down before it explodes, a knowing glint in his eye as he looks over your face and nods his head. 

“i do think,” he says, tapping you on the tip of your nose in a way that makes you giggle. you watch as he turns and bends down, a smile lighting up your face as you immediately move to jump on his back.

“now what snacks do you want for tonight, little one?”

the next three weekends you’re deemed safe from any college parties, either your shifts at the coffee shop or mingi’s school work keeping you free from his whining or incessant phone calls.

but the second you heard a knock on your door one saturday night, your movie on in the background and popcorn popping in the microwave, something tells you that you’re fucked. that you’ve steered clear of that sticky, overcrowded house for far too long, and it’s like the tall, handsome boy at your door has realized it. 

“you’ve evaded me long enough.”

“sadly, i don’t agree,” you respond dryly, a smirk on the boy’s face as he lets himself in before you can close the door. you let out a groan as he helps himself to your freshly cooked bag of popcorn, throwing the pieces in his mouth as he tells you to get dressed. 

“now why would i do that?” you ask, hands on your hips and a snippy tone already in your voice. 

but it doesn’t deter mingi in the slightest; if anything, it almost eggs him on even more. his eyes squinting before he abandons the popcorn and charges toward you, large hands gripping your waist as he guides you to your closet and tells you to change.

the deep, commanding tone in his voice should make you angry. it should make you roll your eyes and tell him he’s not the boss of you. that you have no intentions of going out and he could either leave or stay for the movie. 

but it’s the contrast of that and the sweet look in his eye that always gets you. how he can be tough and commanding but then cute and playful. 

it’s always what gets that feeling of electric between you, his body looming over yours and eyes staring up at one another challengingly. a part of you always wants to tell him to fuck off but then know you wouldn’t be able to handle the sad, mildly pathetic look on his face. 

“it’s halloween-themed. but no costumes,” he says, tightening his hold on you and toying with the ends of your white t-shirt. “so match with me.”

your hands travel to his broad shoulders, his muscles under your hands affecting you far more than you’re leading on. a part of you wants to feel just how warm and soft his skin is, trail your finger over his collarbone until he groans or warns you to watch it. 

your nails dig into his back ever so slightly, your brow cocked and head turned to the side as you slowly start to step closer to him. his knees hit your bed frame just as you push him back, his butt plopping on your comforter as you stand in between his legs.

“no,” is all you say, a knowing smirk on your face as you watch his eyes flame with something like arousal and disbelief. 

he shakes his head and watches you walk to your closet, throwing himself back on your bed with a silent groan and a plea that, tonight, you don’t push him too much. 

but a few hours into the night, a few too many beers in mingi and your own growing attraction toward him has the night leading in that direction. 

you knew mingi was a good dancer, something you learned at one of these parties last year. it was the only thing that made you smile on those nights actually, watching the boy go from bumping and grinding to jumping around like a kid with a sugar high.

and lucky for you, tonight, he was going with the former. his body placed behind yours, not a stitch of alcohol coursing through your veins, as you guys dance and giggle and and talk to a few people from his classes. 

it’s something very casual, nothing innately sexual about your moves other then your bodies are close and you can feel his groin against you. but you’re both just moving to the beat, your head thrown back on his shoulder as a girl tells you all about mingi’s public speaking skills, or lack thereof. 

“he gets sooo red it’s actually kind of cute,” she tells you, the wink she throws your way making you both share a smirk; because anyone with eyes can see that, embarrassed or not, terrible at public speaking or not, he’s cute. 

“ehh, he’s okay,” you tease lightly, his hold on your waist tightening. you squeal when his cold hand touches the sliver of skin exposed from your shirt, elbowing him lightly before turning around and poking at his cheek. 

“what?”

“i’m okay?” he mocks, the look on his flushed face making you giggle into him. 

“well, what do you want me to say?” you ask, cocking your head to the side in a way you know is gonna cause trouble. but you wanna push him to that point, the excited warmth fluttering in your chest when he looks at you in a way that makes you feel wanted.

you hadn’t been able to see it at first, mingi’s clear affection and liking toward you meanwhile he thinks it was there even when you were with wooyoung; but of course, he knew better than to act on it, watching your smile and laugh from afar and hoping that wooyoung knew how lucky he was.

because he’s pretty sure since the moment he met you, when you came in holding wooyoung’s hand with a small, shy smile on you flushed face, he even wanted you then.

but now, it’s like the roles have switched. now, there’s a very drunken, very pissed off wooyoung standing across the room wishing he could be the taller boy.

he’d been watching you two since the moment you arrived, what sparked the alcohol he guzzled down in a matter of a few hours after he told himself he was done drinking.

yeosang told him to stop drinking beers so he moved to shots and that’s why he’s currently stumbling around and muttering under his breath, already the defeated, shitfaced boy no one wants to be at a public event.

he knows he shouldn’t feel it, the anger brewing inside his chest at seeing you and mingi pressed up one another flirting. but he is. he’s so fucking mad and jealous and seething, it’s only a matter of time before the slightest bit of sanity he has left breaks. 

makes him stomp over and grab you in a way he knows isn’t right. in a way he knows will make you hate him even more; but maybe that’s why he does it. just completely self destructing because seeing you again, and seeing you with someone else, has really put things into perspective for him.

that he’s not the sweet, perfect boyfriend he thought he was and, instead, someone very flawed and toxic. someone who hurt you and is now expecting a second chance solely because he loves you. 

someone who, after seeing his ex girlfriend try to move on and build up her confidence again, ends up stumbling over and grabbing her by the arm anyway. 

one second you’re looking up at mingi and smiling and the next your neck nearly snaps off, looking down at the tight grip on your arm as you hear a familiar voice growl to the taller boy that you and him need a minute. 

you don’t know why or how mingi allows it to happen but suddenly, you’re outside. the cold air surrounding you does nothing to calm your burning veins, ripping your arm from wooyoung’s grasp and pushing him back with all the strength you could muster.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not even have spotted the boy all night. “i told you not to touch me.”

“i know you did. and i know you hate me. and i also know i deserve that but-”

“no shit,” you snap, taking a step backward and looking the boy up and down who you barely recognize right now. he still looks like the person you once loved but his demeanor is so incredibly different, eyes hazy and bloodshot from the alcohol you can smell on his breath. 

“i miss you,” he mutters lowly, the drunken slur to his words making your stomach twist. “i just...i just wanna talk, y/n and if you still-”

“i don’t wanna talk to you.”

and if wooyoung was sober and in the right frame of mind, he wouldn’t have approached you to begin with. he wouldn’t have dared put his hands on you again and begged you for a second chance like he did that fateful afternoon.

but because he’s a mess, because he’s been a mess for the past several months, he looms over you and keeps his eyes on you as the next words leave him.

“but you wanna talk to mingi?”

“don’t you dare start that shit,” you spit out, every angry, red-hot emotion searing up in your veins - but you’re happy it’s not tears, at least. you think if you cried in this man’s presence again, you’d have to hide away for the rest of your life. “you don’t get to do that.”

“i don’t get to feel jealous that i can’t talk to the girl i lov-”

and similar to the slap you gave him that day, when you walked in and saw another girl in his lap, you can’t stop yourself when you do it this time either. have him taint that word and feeling for you anymore than he did when he lied to your face for months.

“it’s your fucking fault, wooyoung. you did this. you cheated on me and completely proved that that’s not true,” you snap, anger-filled eyes burning into his. “so don’t say that to me.”

“you don’t know what i feel,” he counters lowly, a slur to his words that has you knowing this is not the time for this conversation.” i’m telling the truth.” 

he stumbles closer to you and you’re so focused on staring him down that you don’t see his hand move to your waist. 

“you don’t know how much i fucking regret it. please, baby, if you’d just-”

“get away from me.”

“get away from me,” you say, attempting to rip your hands from his grasp. but he only tightens them and brings you closer to him.

“just please, give me five fucking minutes, y/n, so we can finally-”

“if you just listen to me, maybe you’ll-”

“stop,” you say, struggling to pull your hands free. you need to get away from him. you can’t hear him sound this pathetic and sad and begging.

“stop. let go of me, wooyoung,” you say, voice firm and strong despite how shaky and upset you’re getting on the inside. the familiarity of this scene is too much, his desperate pleas and your building sadness and hurt making a lump form in your throat.

“did you know i was drunk when it first happened?” he slurs out, his glossy eyes looking at you with such pathetic desperation. “i didn’t even know what the fuck happened the next morning. i didn’t remember anything, not even how i got home.”

you swallow down any response regarding the first incident, feeling tears burn your eyes as you shake your head at him; you can see she completely took advantage of him but...

“but what about the time after that? and then the time after that?” you ask, watching as his face falls and you feel heart break in a way it hasn’t in months; he may be telling the truth about the first time but if that really were the case, it wouldn’t have happened when he was stone cold sober on a friday morning. 

“what about those two months after, wooyoung?” you voice aloud, begging the tears behind your eyes not to fall. “were you shitfaced then?”

“no but i-”

“exactly,” you spit out. “you knew what you were doing then. so get the fuck off me and leave me alone.”

“i can’t, please just-”

“wooyoung, stop.”

it’s mingi’s deep voice that pulls you and wooyoung out of the heated discussion, your ex tightening his hold on you and attempting to pull you behind him. 

he doesn’t wanna lose you yet, you’ve been gone for months. even if you’re fighting and even if you hate him, he’s selfish and he needs you. he wants you still. 

“you stop, mingi,” wooyoung growls, a new type of anger flooding through him. he releases his grip on you and stumbles toward the much taller boy, seemingly unfazed by the size difference as he shoves him back.

“if anyone should be pissed here, it’s me. stealing my fucking girl like some little bitch.”

“she’s not your girl anymore,” mingi says lowly, his eyes and body tense as he stares down wooyoung. “if you weren’t shitfaced right now, you’d remember that. and you’d remember why.”

“you’re such a-”

“enough, woo,” you say quietly, the nickname that rendered him hurt three weeks ago when you said it making him snap his head back to look at you; and before you can see his softened, glossy eyes, you warn him to never do this again before you turn to go home. 

you hear footsteps follow behind the whole way, knowing that it’s mingi and knowing that his head is probably trained on his feet right now. you don’t stop walking until you’re at his car in the campus parking lot, leant against the side and looking up at him for the first time in twenty minutes.

he sees unshed tears in your eyes and his face immediately crumbles, about to take you in his arms when you hold out your arm and shake your head. 

“please... don’t ask me to come to another one of these.” 

guilt immediately consumes him and his adams apple bobs, a quick nod of his head before he pulls you into his chest. you sniffle against his shirt and inhale his scent. you couldn’t help in the beginning but compare him to wooyoung, the different smell of his cologne and broader chest under your head. 

it was a good different but you hate that, even after an exchange like the one you and him just had, your mind still goes back to wooyoung; you still think about him and compare them and maybe that’s why you’re crying right now. too 

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” mingi mumbles against your head.

you don’t even realize there’s tears on your face until he pulls back and wipes at them, that broken feeling within your chest so painful it feels like you’re about to collapse. 

“i hate him, i really do,” you whimper out, shaking your head and wiping at your red face. “i...why did he do it? i thought i was over it, mingi. why am i not...” your voice breaks and you shake your head, struggling to breathe and get the words out in the cold air. “i fucking hate him.”

mingi can only hold you and rock you gently, his warm arms never leaving you as he tries to mend your broken heart. it’s something he’s been trying to do for months and will continue to do, wanting nothing more than for you to be free from the damage wooyoung did.

and if it were that easy, he’d be able to look at this moment in a few months time and see this was when his love and affection for you shined through and helped you. helped you see that there are other people who want to help you and be there for you, who will try their best to treat you better than the boy who hurt you.

but, unfortunately for him, things are never that easy.  

you threw yourself into work and school in a way you’d never done before. 

if you weren’t doing study sessions with a few people from your classes or spending nights in the library, you were busting your ass cleaning tables and dealing with overly nice college kids who attempt to make up for the mean and bitter middle-aged. 

true to mingi’s promise that october night, he never asked you to go to another party again; instead, he’d crash your movie nights afterward, only ever staying at the frat house for an hour or two because “they get old real fucking quick.”

but he never says the same thing about your friday and saturday nights, even though they religiously consist of laying in bed, eating junk food and watching cheesy romantic dramas.

so whether you were taking pity on him or your study groups pleas to meet them at a bar down town finally got to you, you were en route with mingi and a far too chatty uber driver for a night of “much needed fun and drinking,” as one of your friends put it.

“i’m kind of scared,” you mumble to mingi, a smile pulling at his lips at your innocent confession. you’ve never been to a bar before, let alone one that is known to serve under age kids and is raided by the cops monthly. 

“i’ve never been here but i’ve heard it’s fun. the music is pretty good and there’s a live band that-”

“are you two a couple?” 

you and mingi eye each other suspiciously, a smirk playing on both your lips at the man’s awkwardly blurted out question. it’s almost as awkward as you saying yes when mingi says no, the taller boy’s face falling as his head snaps to you. 

“wait...i mean...yes?” mingi says, hand going over your mouth as you hold back a giggle. 

you both hear the man laugh out a response, you far too consumed by mingi’s shocked face while he’s still trying to process why the hell you had said that. he can see it’s all teasing and fun though, a glint in your eye that makes it obvious you were only saying that to quell an uncomfortably nosy question. 

but he’s not ignorant to the fact of how much he wants that to be true. 

“why would he even ask that?” you giggle out as you two walk into the bar, not a bouncer or real id in sight. “right in the middle of our conversation, no less. what a weird thing to do.”

a smile creeps up on mingi’s face as he already sees the effects of your three spiked seltzers from back in your dorm, his hand brushing your hair behind your ear. his eyes linger on your pink cheeks and he has to stop himself from laughing, the two of being pulled from the moment just as it started.

“maybe because he thought we looked-”

“y/n!” 

the familiar squeal of your lab partner’s voice causes you to jump, mingi’s body still close to yours as you say hello and introduce them to each other. 

“for tonight, this is mingi, my boyfriend,” you tease, the wink you throw his way causing him to shove you playfully. 

the girl can only watch with a smirk, knowing that when she drags you to the bathroom in 20 minutes because she broke the seal, she’s gonna have to ask you all about that. 

“hi mingi, boyfriend of the night,” she says, the shy but handsome smile he throws her way all too endearing. her hands falls into yours as she beckons you both to the dance floor, dragging you away just ahead enough to ask if you plan on keeping him longer. 

you only roll your eyes and push her playfully, looking back to smile at mingi who’s watching you in a way that makes you think, tonight, you’re finally gonna kiss him. 

or that could just be the alcohol coursing through your veins, another cup of vodka and something, you don’t even know what your friend asked for. but it’s good, cold and sweet and you’re gone enough where you can barely taste the sting of alcohol going down your throat. 

you wouldn’t say you were drunk, courtesy of the huge meal you and mingi had back at your room, but you’re definitely a little tipsy. tipsy enough to dance without a care in the world, not distracted by the big groups of people or much too stuffy environment. 

you were there to have fun and dance, any problems from school work or shitty customers or a lingering ex-boyfriend the last thing on your mind. 

you haven’t seen wooyoung since that october night, when he was far too drunk and far too emotional and made you cry far too similarly like when you first broke up. 

it’s always a sad, hopeless cry, knowing that you shouldn’t still be hurting but feeling it deep within your gut that, whether you want to admit it or not, you still were. you were still hurt by the betrayal of someone you loved so much, even though you wished you could just turn those feelings off. 

and despite all of these feelings inside of you, you’re surprised to learn that, in your impaired state, you’re not a sad drunk yet. you’ve been laughing and smiling and dancing, bouncing your attention between your study group friends and mingi who spotted a few guys from his classes.

which should’ve been the first indication that wooyoung was lingering around this bar. 

he spotted you a few times during the night but knew better than to go over, remembering the last time he saw you, he got a well-deserved red mark on his cheek. he also saw how mingi watched you, a soft fondness in his gaze that hurt him as much as it comforted him.

because he thought you’d be safe with him tonight. that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight or allow you to stumble off to the bathroom by yourself.

but when the several cups hit you all at once, an unpleasant pressure on your bladder, you told the group you were gonna go pee and walked off without any response. it was so fast, one minute laughing and dancing and hearing the pounding music in their ears and then the next realizing you weren’t there. 

“oh...my god, my hair,” you whined in the mirror as you washed your hands, brushing through the frizzy, knotty strands. 

“it looks bea-beautiful!” another tipsy girl smiles, stumbling over to you and holding herself up on the wall. “don’t be silly!”

a giggle bubbles out of your mouth as you look at her in shock, her three friends coming out and praising each other is a similar way. 

it’s an oddly intimate and sweet ten minutes in the girl’s bathroom but it keeps you smiling even on your way out, waving goodbye to them before you turn back around and bump into someone’s chest.

“oh, i’m sorry, i-”

“it’s okay, pretty,” a deep unfamiliar voice says, his voice far too brash and flirty for your liking. you look up to see glossed over eyes and a smirk covering his sweaty face, the faint scent of alcohol and b.o making you queasy. 

“how’re you doing tonight?” 

“i’m fine,” you say, every bit of you now sobered as you watch his predatory gaze. the bar is still pretty crowded but the bathrooms are dark and off to the side, something you hadn’t even noticed in your tipsy state. 

“you here with someone tonight?” the boy asks, eyebrow raised suggestively as he takes a step closer to you. 

you swallow nervously as you nod politely, a tight smile on your face when your heart starts to pound. something innate within you is scared, the dark vacant corner only making you more nervous when your back hits the wall behind you.

“you’re pretty. so i guess it’s a boyfriend, huh?” 

“yes,” you say shortly, wishing you could push him back or or yell or slap him the way you did wooyoung. “so if you’ll excuse me, he’s probably wondering where i-”

but before you can move around the boy, a clammy hand on your elbow pulls you back to the wall. you immediately feel your heart drop into your stomach, panic setting in as your eyes shoot up to the man’s face. 

you don’t like the look behind his beady, glossy eyes and if you can’t get away within the next few seconds, you’re probably gonna scream. 

“now hold up now,” he says playfully, the slur in his words and stale smell of beer on his breath only making this worse. “maybe i’m b-better than your boyfriend,” he hiccups in your face, breath wafting in your face and making it pinch together. 

“i don’t think so,” you hum under your breath, shaking your head as you pull your arm out of his grasp. “so please leave me alone now.”

but he doesn’t. 

“hey, hey, hey, wait,” he says, a crooked smile on his face as he blocks his bigger body with yours. “just give me a chance, yeah? let me buy you a drink?”

your eyes flare and fists clench at his persistence, the way he’s inching closer to you and not taking no for an answer really making you mad. making you ready to stomp on his foot and kick him between the legs.

“c’mon, your boyfriend doesn’t even know you’re gone,” he says, an attempt to sound sly and convincing only making your skin crawl even more. “he’s probably with some other chick. let me show that i’m much better than him, babe.” 

his hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, a clammy thumb running along your bare skin. “he doesn’t know how good he has it if he let a pretty little thing like you walk off alone.”

“i know how good i have it actually,” you hear a voice mutter, one that, up until this very moment, would’ve made you angry or sad; but now, you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful to hear him. 

you hear footsteps coming closer and each one fills you with relief, the thought that he’s about to kick the shit out of him the least of your concerns.

“so i suggest you take your fucking hand off her.”

your eyes meet the tight ones of wooyoung over the boy’s shoulder, his jaw clenched and gaze calculating as he debates ripping the guy off of you and shoving him against the wall or tugging you behind him.

he goes with both. 

taking you by the hand gently but firmly, your body bumping his as he puts you behind him. and then similar to how you were caged in, wooyoung does the same to the boy an inch or two taller than him; but it’s like neither are even aware of that. 

wooyoung’s body is stiff and rigid, the vein in his neck popping out as he stares down the guy. what freaks the creep out the most is, even by how pissed and dark this psycho is looking at him, his gaze looks...careless. like he wouldn’t even hesitate beating the shit out of him despite the way they’d be thrown out of here in three seconds.

“didn’t know you were real, dude,” the man stutters out, as if that is a good enough excuse to pin you against the wall and harass you. 

and wooyoung must find it absurd too, a scoff leaving his mouth as he cocks his head to the side.

“would it matter if i wasn’t?” he growls lowly, his body hot and angry as he takes his shirt in his hand. he wraps it around it to the point of choking the guy, his body thrashing underneath his hold. 

“get the f-fuck off me you psycho.”

“you don’t like it, do you?” wooyoung asks, a sinister smile on his face as he steps closer to the boy. “being caged in by a fucking lunatic? are you scared now?” 

your eyes widen at the dark tone in wooyoung’s voice, your quiet call of his name falling on deaf ears. he’s too focused on not beating the fuck out of the guy in front of him, his hand tightening as he decides to throw him into the corner of the wall.

you watch the man’s head smack off the wood trim and immediately screech, a chastising call of wooyoung’s name that has him grabbing your hand and heading for the exit. 

you’re about to object until you see he’s only bringing you outside the bar, sitting you down on a bench outside and welcoming the cold night air; it’s mid-november, only a week until thanksgiving break, and it’s unsurprisingly very bitter out. 

he helps you sit down before letting out a shaky sigh, his hands running through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down and not run back in to finish what he wants so desperately wants to. he’s pacing slightly and you’d be probably be scared if it was anyone else, watching his jaw tick and vein pop in his neck. 

“you’re jeaaalous,” you tease your boyfriend of three months, watching his eyes follow two boys who had talked to you after class; you’d become friendly with them the first day of classes, their bright smiles and funny remarks immediately making you feel comfortable with them.

“no,” he growls lowly, his hand wrapped around your waist the whole time you go to your locker. you bite down on your lip to hide your smile but it does nothing to keep your giggles at bay, your back pressed up against the cold metal as he looks over your face. 

you cock your head to the side and smile teasingly at him, your thumb soothing over the ticking vein in his neck. the feel of it under your skin makes you wince a little because it seems almost dangerous, like his head or neck is gonna explode. 

“no?” you repeat, cocking an eyebrow as he looks at you in disdain. “then what’s this?” 

his hand reaches out to grab yours, quickly interlacing your fingers as his other  rests next to your head on the cool metal. 

“nothing,” he responds dumbly, dipping his head and hiding the possessive flare in his eyes as his next words fan over your ear. “i just don’t like seeing someone with my girl.”

you shake your head of the memory and see wooyoung making his way over to you, the boy slowly kneeling in front of you as he meets your glossy gaze. 

“you okay?” 

you lick over your dry lips, a lump already forming in your throat at his closeness and the softness in his voice. you can tell by his eyes that he hasn’t had a stitch of alcohol tonight, everything about him looking so similar to the boy he was last year during this time. 

before things went to shit and before he started the double life you both still haven’t recovered from. 

you don’t know if you could get the words out if you tried so you can only nod, your cold hands in one another. it feels as if a little bit of everything about the past five minutes has sobered you, fear and comfort and the coldness that should be alerting you to get away from the boy looking at you the way he is. 

but you can’t seem to do that, lips pressing into one another when you feel that lump growing bigger and bigger. you think you stop breathing when he reaches up to cup your cheek, his warm palm on your face for only a few seconds before you let out a shaky breath.

you know this isn’t good. that you and him together alone right now isn’t good. months of telling yourself you hate him and that he should rot before seeing him before your eyes and knowing that a part of you still cares for him. 

“wooyoung,” you mumble warningly, that breaking feeling within your chest knowing you can’t have him touching you. 

his face falls at the same time as his hand, splayed out on your jean covered knee in a way that feels so foreign but familiar. his hands are smaller than mingi’s but there’s something about them that almost makes you feel more comforted, remembering the times like this he would hold you and make you feel better.

made you feel like no one would ever hurt you because he was there. 

“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice deep and full of genuine sorrow. 

but you don’t know what exactly he’s sorry for. for the drunken man, for him touching you, for what he did? you go with the first one, because you’re not ready for the conversation the other two need. 

“not your fault,” you hum quietly, trying to talk through the growing lump in your throat. “just a drunk asshole.”

“not about that,” he laughs out humorlessly, rising from his spot below you and sitting down next to you. he’s close enough to where you can feel the heat radiating off his body but your arms aren’t touching - just a few centimeters separate you. 

“i’m sorry about our last conversation. it...wasn’t fair of me to do that and say anything to you.”

you shiver as a biting gust of win blows past, your arms wrapping around yourself as you simply nod. you can’t really think of what to say. because you don’t wanna say it’s okay, it’s not, but he also seems genuinely apologetic. 

“i’m trying not to drink anymore,” he explains to you, not quite sure how to take your silence and choosing to fill it. you can hear some embarrassment laced in his voice, his eyes trained down on his dirty sneakers. “it’s...caused me nothing but problems.”

caused him to lose you and fuck up time and time again. misplace all of his priorities and transform him into a person who lost his happiness in the span of a few months. 

“i messed up that night obviously, though,” he chuckles out, not a trance of humor in his tone as he meets your gaze. usually it’d be him watching you be nervous but now he can feel the shift in dynamic. that even though you’re still uncomfortable and nervous too, you still have the upper hand.

you can decide right now if you’re gonna start this conversation or tell him to go fuck himself. 

“i’m sorry you had to witness that. i know it was really fucking shitty of me.”

“it was,” you agree quietly after a few silent seconds, wooyoung’s heart dropping in his stomach as he prepares to get his ass handed to him. “but i don’t know if that second slap was warranted.” 

that loud high chuckle you’d always complain was ear piercing bubbles out of his mouth and you can’t help but bite back a smile at hearing it, resisting the urge to giggle right along side with him.

“it definitely was. i was a dick.”

you only shrug your shoulders, something pulling in your chest the more you two sit down beside one another and actually talk. not curse or slur words at each other or put your hands on the other but actually have some sort of discussion. 

“it wasn’t right. what i did.” 

and then just as you were starting to feel good about all of this talking stuff, your heart falls in your stomach and you wanna run from away from this conversation. a part of you doesn’t wanna reopen these wounds but another part of you knows they were never really healed or closed. 

especially not after seeing him again. 

“i can’t even tell you why or what happened because i don’t even fucking know.   i missed you even though we saw each other and talked a lot but...she was just always fucking there. would never leave me alone and i was so stupid to not realize it.”

that’s something he always reflects back on, how you saw something the first day you met her but you both chopped it up to insecurities. 

“and then i think i just started to lie because i loved you. which doesn’t even make sense because you don’t lie to someone you love. but i was so selfish and desperate to keep you. i knew you’d leave me.”

“no shit, wooyoung,” you can’t help but say, the quiver in your voice one you can’t stop as you hear all of this from his mouth. “the first night when she kissed you drunk, you should’ve told me. the fact that you didn’t...makes me thing you knew it was gonna happen again. without alcohol.”

“i didn’t tell you because i thought you’d be mad. i know i would’ve been.”

“i don’t think you’d be mad if someone took advantage of me,” you confess quietly, something you now know was absolutely the case. “but truthfully, it wasn’t even that, woo. you lied right to my face when i asked you in my room that day.”

“we’re just friends,” he says and you bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t scream; you hadn’t said anything like that so why is he telling you that? “she only texted me for the schedule, love.”

you look up to meet his gaze and see a frown on his lips, his eyes trailing over every part of your face. 

“do you trust me?” he then asks suddenly, seeing all of the doubt and hesitation over your face. you immediately nod your head, feeling tears burn the back of your eyes at the idea of starting a fight.

“then why does it seem like you don’t?

“you made it seem like it was me. and that’s why i really tried to fucking hate you,” you confess, voice wavering and watery and you even hear how it sounds like you’re about to have a break down. “being with her was bad and me needing to see that was bad but you...lying like that was worse.”

he swallows the lump in his throat as tears sting his eyes, his jaw clenched and eyes on the concrete so tears don’t fall. 

“a part of me thinks i should hate you,” you say after a few silent moments, wondering if he’s even listening to your words anymore. “but i...” your voice breaks and the cold air stings your watery eyes, successfully (and thankfully) halting your words. 

and whether wooyoung noticed your shivering or saw your eyes, you feel him move beside you before his sweatshirt is placed around your shoulders. the scent of his cologne could make you burst into tears on the spot, the teakwood scent you loved so much further overwhelming you. 

“thanks,” you mumble quietly, his hummed response the only sound between you two for the next few moments. 

the muffled music and chatter from inside the bar could be heard from the street but it seems as if no one is out tonight. just you, wooyoung and the lingering silence that comes with sitting beside an ex who hurt you and an ex you’re still in love with. 

it just so happens that, for you, both of those are still the case. no matter how much you wanna deny it or pretend that’s not the case, him sitting beside you and giving you soft little smiles is making you weaker than you wished. 

you know you should get up and leave, tell him this isn’t a good idea and that you should go back inside to mingi and your friends. but it’s like your brain and your body are at a complete disconnect, welcoming the warm heat from his jacket and the strangely comfortable presence of him beside you. 

“i still love you.”

the wind blows by at the time he says that and, at first, you think you made it up. that your deluded mind is hearing things and you really are just far too vulnerable and upset right now. 

but the when you peak at him, you can tell by the look on his face he’s not sure if he said that either. actually confessed to you in such a way he knows is wrong and unfair but just couldn’t stop because to the core, he’s selfish when it comes to you. 

he always has been.

“i always will. i always did.” 

and when you feel yourself start to break, the tears burning at the back of your eyes coming to the surface, you feel the anger and spite finally leave your body and be replaced with a sad, pathetic version of it. 

“i don’t know how i’m supposed to believe that,” you whimper out quietly, your eyes roaming his face in a way that breaks his heart; your eyes look so sad and defeated, he just wants to pull you into him. “i don’t even know why you’re saying this to me right now, woo.”

but he knows it’s in the way you still call him that with ease, like you don’t even realize you’re saying it and it’s just completely natural, that that’s exactly why he’s saying it. 

that he wants you to see, even though he made a mistake, there’s still something to hold on to. 

“i miss you,” he tells you softly, his voice low in a way that makes you swallow the lump in your throat. “i really fucking miss you, y/n. and i love you.”

“you’re not being fair,” you whimper out, the tears brimming your eyes falling down your cheek as you look at him. that’s when it really hits him how much he hurt you, how much you avoiding him and blocking him out of your life was meant to shield you from this.

“that’s not fair at all, wooyoung. what am i supposed to do? just forget it? believe now that you love me? you said the same thing then.”

“and it was true then,” he says, his tone more desperate and tight. “it was a mistake, y/n. the first time and the times after that. they’re lousy excuses but i’m being honest.”

he reaches out to wipe your tears and you can’t find the energy to pull away, exhaling a shaky breath when his thumb wipes at your face. his touch is gentle and soft and makes this moment even more hard for you, the look on his face making your heart wrench in your chest. 

“please, baby. i know it’d be hard but if we could just-”

“don’t. please.”

you pull your face away and shake your head as you look at him, wiping your wet cheek with the back of your hand.

“you’re not about to honestly suggest we date again? are you out of your fucking mind?”

“no no no. not date,” he’s quick to clarify, his hands up in innocence. “if we could just be friends. friendly. not...avoid each other and argue every time we see each other.” 

he lifts his hands to your face again with a pout on his, swiping both thumbs under your eyes; you notice his own eyes are teary but don’t even wanna think about him crying in front of you.

it hurts you as much as it enrages you, remembering the last time he broke down in front of you. 

“i don’t want you to cry every time you see me,” he mumbles lowly, his gaze looking over your face with such affection you can’t bear to look at him anymore. 

“i don’t...i want...i...” 

“i’m never gonna trust anyone ever again. do you fucking realize that, wooyoung?” you cry, his voice ringing in your head from january, when now you know he had already been with her, asking why you didn’t trust him. “you were with her and turned it around on me and asked why i didn’t trust you.”

“i want you to trust me.”

but he says that like it’s easy. like you can just so easily forget everything and trust him blindly. like he didn’t do anything wrong.

“i don’t know, wooyoung.”

he sees the fear and apprehension flickering behind your eyes, a sigh leaving his mouth as guilt starts to wash over him. he shouldn’t be doing this right now. he shouldn’t be asking you to do this when he’s not even sure you’ve forgiven him yet. 

he shouldn’t be feeling this intense want and need to have you to himself again. 

you both hear the faint sound of the door swinging open but pay no mind to it, too lost in the intense gazes and buzzing air between you two. you know you shouldn’t be considering this just as much as he shouldn’t be asking but here you are, actually considering his words right now. 

“just...think about it?” he offers, eyes glinting with hope and affection that would usually soften you in a second. “i know it’ll take time but maybe we can just try?”

you lick over your cold, chapped looks as you look at him, every part of you knowing you should be saying a big fuck you and fuck no to him. 

“i’ll wait for you again,” he adds, a hint of teasing behind his words as he thinks about your first few months together. him sitting with you every day during lunch and you outright ignoring him for half of them. watching as your confused expressions and sneers slowly morphed into smiles and giggles. 

realizing that, he was right to think you guys were good for each other, because being with you was one of the easiest things in the world when he wasn’t being a fucking asshole. 

“you barely waited,” you grumbled lowly, remembering the events from high school a lot more along the lines of him buying you snacks, asking you to a different movie every weekend and not giving you a moment to yourself during lunch. 

“a whole two months actually,” he says, the amusement in his voice making a sad smile cross your face. he can tell it’s sad by the way it doesn’t meet your eyes and it makes his heart hurt just a little bit, his hand moving to yours so your cold fingertips brush. 

“i’ll wait as long as you need this time. and if you decide you don’t want to be friends...that’s fine, too. i’ll...accept it and never talk to you again.”

you hate the way your heart pangs with hurt at that idea, terrified and embarrassed by how fast things changed in three months. how three months, you never wanted to see him again and now the prospect of that is physically paining you.

but could you put yourself through this? should you put yourself through this? he could be lying again. he could just be-

“y/n?” 

mingi’s deep voice pulls you from your thoughts as you jump at the sound of him, your eyes meeting his confused, cautious gaze before quickly snatching your hand away from wooyoung; but it’s obvious he already saw how close you guys were, on top of the fact his sweatshirt is wrapped around your shoulders. 

“you okay?” mingi asks as he looks at you, his gaze shifting to wooyoung and hardening every so slightly. “why are you upsetting her? haven’t you done enough?” 

“mingi, it’s-”

“some drunk asshole was harassing her because someone let her walk off alone,” wooyoung says to the boy, standing from his spot next to you and walking over. it’s at that time your friends come out and their eyes light up upon seeing you, quickly rushing over and dabbing at your red, damp face. 

mingi and wooyoung continue to have a stare down as you’re bombarded by drunken coos and sticky hands, the taller boy watching you carefully before wooyoung clears his throat. 

“guy said she had a boyfriend but that’s not the case, is it?” wooyoung says, the shift in him to being conniving and mean at the way he sees the boy looking at you. “no matter how much your bitch ass wants it.”

“fuck you,” mingi spits out, “you don’t deserve to even speak to her after what you did.”

“you don’t deserve to give me advice after you tried to swoop in and steal her.” 

“she’s not something to steal, asshole. i’ve actually been there for her, wooyoung,” mingi says, his tone deep and gruff as he resists the urge to thrown him up against the wall. “watching her cry and get through the shit that you inflicted on her.”

the words effect him just as much as mingi wanted them too but he’d never let the boy know that, instead narrowing his eyes and shoving the boy backward. 

“our shit’s between me and her so maybe fuck off for once and leave her alone,” wooyoung says, popping his neck to the side as he watches mingi’s jaw tighten. “look like a pathetic little puppy following her around.”

“more pathetic than pining after someone you cheated on? you know you fucked up and now that she’s moving on, you’re pissed.” 

“who the fuck said she’s moving on you-”

“mingi, we’re gonna go.”

it’s your soft voice that breaks up their lowly growled conversation, wooyoung’s dark eyes changing as he turns back to look at you. you hold his gaze for a few seconds before meeting mingi and the boy can’t even lie in saying it hurts how much more comfortable you seem looking at him. 

wooyoung can barely hear mingi mumble his response, letting out a groan when the taller boy shoulder checks him and says “they’ll see him around.” the boy bites back a snarky comment as you meet his gaze again, flickers of hope and confusion and fear in your gaze. 

he can only assure you with a soft smile and hope that you really see he meant every word he said. 

“i couldn’t even tell if he meant it, you know,” you tell mingi on the walk home, wooyoung’s sweatshirt still hanging from your body. 

the walk from the bar to your dorm is only about twenty minutes, you and mingi’s hands bumping clumsily as you walk down the main road. 

“like he seems sorry and he just said we’ll be friends. but i can’t....actually trust him again. what he did was wrong and i can’t just forgive him.”

mingi’s been quiet during your rant for the past few minutes, only the occasional hum or nod assuring you he’s even been listening. but it’s when you crane your neck up to look at him you see his face is...unusual. 

expressionless, almost, in a way you never see on the usually happy and smiley boy. 

“mingi? are you okay?”

“hm? yeah, i’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head before his arms bumps into yours. 

your eyebrows pull together in suspicion, about to ask him if he’s even been listening before he beings to talk again. “do you actually feel that way, though? that what he did was wrong and that you can’t forgive? or do you just think you should feel that way?” 

“i-” 

the question strikes you more than you thought it would. because the answer seems obvious - you shouldn’t wanna forgive him. you should know what he did was wrong, know it in the way loyalty and trust is such a crucial part to relationships.

but forgiveness is where that line gets blurred for you. 

hearing him and seeing him look and sound apologetic was hard. thinking back on your relationship and remembering how good you guys were together was hard. trying to put yourself in his situation, although you’re not sure you would’ve been in it in the first place, was hard. 

and it’s not like he’s asking you to trust him and be his girlfriend again. 

you’re just gonna...slowly repair your relationship again, right? but when you utter that thought to mingi, his feet stop moving and he looks down at you with an unconvinced expression. 

“you say that, y/n, and i wanna believe you,” he says, his hand toying at your fingers as he tries to remain gentle and calm. “but...i don’t know. you guys looked...”

the softness and affection was obvious, the possession and love behind wooyoung’s eyes matching your soft but fearful gaze was eye opening. 

if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve seen a couple making up from a fight. a happy, loving couple who was able to get past a hardship in their relationship and would be able to thrive again. 

“what?”

“you guys looked like you were...together. i thought i interrupted something,” mingi says honestly, remembering how you jumped away and your hands and face followed. “kind of seemed like you guys were gonna kiss.”

“mingi, that’s definitely not-”

“and look, if that’s what you want, that’s fine. but, please, y/n. you have to be careful. you can’t forget how much he hurt you and really have to consider if he’s being-”

and maybe it’s because you just wanted him to stop talking about it. or because your mind is muddled and confused and still swirling with the effects of alcohol and the tension with wooyoung. or because, underneath all of this drama, a part of you also has come to like mingi.

or at least, the comfort and feelings of affection and desire he gave you. he’s been there for you since the beginning and after a few months, you always thought this moment was gonna happen. you just didn’t know when. 

you didn’t know when one of you was gonna grow the balls to kiss and see what happens after that. 

it takes him a few seconds to respond before you feel him kiss you back, lips parted and his hand in yours moving to your hips. he pulls you against him the more you kiss, like you’re pouring every emotion you’ve experienced tonight into him while he’s pouring every emotion he’s held back for months. 

he just doesn’t know that at the time. 

he just knows that you pull back and smile at him in such a pretty way, a blush on your cheeks and glint in your eye as you tell him you really are only considering a friendship with wooyoung. 

but you go home that night not thinking about the kiss or mingi’s sleeping body beside you. you go home thinking about how nice it feels to be wrapped in wooyoung’s familiar scent and jacket.

almost like, when you close your eyes, you can pretend the body next to you is his. 

truthfully, you didn’t know how that kiss was gonna effect the dynamic between you and mingi. you didn’t know if things were gonna be awkward or different or if now all of the expectations changed. 

but even that night when he dropped you off, and stayed for a sleepover which was not unusual, you curled up in bed with a bag of chips and your laptop as you each shared a headphone.

and nothing felt different.

you two just went along with your usual relationship, not even mentioning the kiss until it became something that happened a day ago. then a week ago, then two weeks ago, then over a month ago, until it kind of seemed like something you guys were never gonna talk about. 

but school and work kept you both busy anyway, the last few days before christmas break full of studying for finals, finishing projects and dealing with the holiday rush of customers stocking up on sugary desserts and espresso shots.

among those customers in the coffee shop was wooyoung, the boy coming in three times a week for his usual order of black coffee and a chipotle chicken club. 

at first, you could tell the remnants of your conversation outside the bar were lingering. you were both apprehensive, his eyes guarded and voice overly polite every time he ordered or thanked you. 

you kept up your professional attitude but still felt that familiar feeling of nervousness bubbling in your stomach, torn between giving him another chance as a friend or saving yourself the possibility of getting hurt again.

but it was in the little things he did over the weeks of him coming in that eventually wore you down. 

when a particularly unpleasant customer gave you shit, he was quick to jump in like a ‘good samaritan,’ share a not-so-nice few words that had you biting back a smile and instead telling him it was okay. 

he always ordered two drinks by accident, his black coffee and an iced coffee that would sit on his table for a few minutes before he came back over to you and your coworkers claiming he didn’t need it anymore. 

but he knew it was your favorite drink and he could tell you needed a pick me up, working well into the evening until the sky fell dark and streets grew empty. 

which brought him to his current predicament, the last person in the coffee shop while you closed up alone on the not so decent side of town; he noticed you closed alone on thursdays and it never sat right with him, watching it happen for two weeks before deciding he wasn’t gonna allow it anymore. 

“hey, we close in about ten minutes. can i get you anything else?” he hears you ask, his head snapping up from his phone. there’s a rag in your hand and a small, polite smile on your face, looking him over warily.

“oh nah, i’m good,” he says, a shake of his head and a small laugh leaving his mouth. you purse your lips to the side and nod unconvinced, going back to the counter to finish cleaning. 

you let out a small sigh when you realize you forgot to text your roommate to come pick you up, your car in the shop and god knows how much money down in your back account. but before you can even get to her contact, you hear wooyoung coming your way. 

“thanks again, y/n, ” he says, gesturing to his empty cup of coffee in hand. 

“you’re welcome! have a nice night, wooyoung,” you smile politely. 

you think that maybe saying his name over and over will remind you of what he’s done to you, halt the stupid butterflies in your stomach that erupt every time you see him enter the coffee shop or catch him looking at you.

he smiles but doesn’t respond, only looks you over before looking out the window and then back at you.

“so, how’re you getting home?” 

you press your lips together as you now realize why he’s been lingering tonight, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him; he must’ve noticed your car not in the parking lot before.

“i was wondering why you were lingering,” you mumble, a chuckle leaving his mouth that makes a small, uncontrollable smile pull at your lips.

“knew you were on to me,” he quips playfully, winking as he goes over to the garbage and throws out his cup. “lemme drive you home.”

“i was gonna call my roommate to get me, it’s okay,” you insist, wiping out your phone again and scrolling to her name. you hear his footsteps approach you again, his hand reaching out slowly before gently falling onto your arm.

and even though you heard him, you still jump at the contact, what feels like an electric shock zipping through your skin you know is all in your head. 

“c’mon, y/n, that’s not necessary. i’m here,” he whines slightly, eyes pleading and soft with a smile you’re trying so hard to resist. you lick over your dry lips and narrow your eyes slightly, letting out a sigh when you can tell he’s not letting up.

and it’s late. it’s so late and you’re tired and still have two papers to finish and edit tonight. you might as well, right?

“fine.” 

he smiles happily before guiding you to the front door, watching you lock up before you silently walk to his car. he opens the passenger-side door and you give him a strange look, never having seen him do that before, before thanking him. 

the car ride is quiet and awkward and cold for the first few minutes, you softly giving him directions before he turns on the heat and you sigh in relief. he side-eyes you as you put your hands to the vent, relishing in the hot air on your cold skin and he can’t help but smile at the sight.

“hands are still like icicles, i see.”

you look over and see the smirk on his face, probably remembering how when things were different, you’d warm your hands up on his skin despite his screams. sneak your hands under his shirt when you’d star gaze at night or hold onto his arm and giggle as he begged you to take them off him but never made any move to get them off. 

“always,” you say shortly, a slightly strained but breathy giggle leaving your mouth that makes his heart pull in his chest. 

the quiet hum of the car surrounds you both for the next few moments, an unspoken tenseness in the car from the reminder that, last time you were alone, he said he still loved you and you had a breakdown. he begged to be friends again and you left him without an answer. 

an answer that’s now lingering between you two, trying to decide if this is gonna be something that’s able to be repaired in some way or you’re both gonna let the fond memories and old feelings die out.

you can’t even lie and say you weren’t going back and forth about it some nights, when your bed seemed too cold and memories were playing and, for some reason, your thoughts of mingi weren’t enough. 

but you were terrified. every part of you was terrified to open this relationship back up just to possibly be hurt again. put your time and effort into him and make more memories that could potentially be tainted again. 

you suppose that’s a risk with any relationship though, because mingi hurt you too and look at you two now; you don’t think your friendship with him has ever been stronger. 

you let out a sigh as you wrack your brain, so lost in thought and the building ache in your temples that you’re barely able to hear wooyoung call your name. 

“y/n?” he repeats, smiling softly when you look over at him in a daze and hum lowly. 

“you good?”

“y-yeah,” you stutter, cheeks flushing a warm pink that wooyoung’s always sworn is the cutest thing about you. even more cute than when you stutter over your words or lick over your lips when you’re lost in thought.

“i...i was just thinking...” you continue a few moments later, your heart saying fuck it because your brain seemed to have lost this battle a while ago.

“about?” wooyoung prods gently, looking over at you as he stops at a red light; he can see your apprehensive, your quietness and shifting eyes one of the telltale signs. 

“about...what we talked about the other night,” you say, peering over to see him watching you patiently, softly, so much like the way he’d watch you in the beginning. 

“about trying to be friends.”

his eyebrow raises and he can feel a lump already forming in his throat, the smile he puts on his face one to disguise how fucking nervous he just became. because he was serious, no matter how selfish he’s realizing he is, if you tell him you don’t wanna be friends, he’s gonna respect that.

no matter how much it’ll pain him. 

“and?” he asks, tightening his hand on the steering wheel when his eyes fall to your lips; watching as your tongue swipes over them before meeting his gaze again. 

the look in his eyes makes more butterflies erupt in your stomach, a soft intensity that momentarily makes you forget everything he’s done; it also might be responsible for the next words that leave your mouth.

“i...think we can try.”

and you didn’t know it at the time but that was that sentence that sealed your fate for the next two months, mirroring the happy smile wooyoung throws your way as your heart lurches in your chest.

his hand twitches to take yours in his but he knows that’d be absolutely inappropriate so he only grips the steering wheel tighter, thanking you softly and promising that he’s not gonna fuck this up. 

and for the next week, he doesn’t; you two fall into a schedule you would’ve never anticipated at the beginning of the school year. 

he comes in a few hours before your shift ends, studies for finals with cups of coffee and desserts until he’s the last one in the building with you. he helps you clean and close up, his signature high-pitched laugh echoing through the empty walls when you smack him with a rag or yell at him for trying to steal another cookie. 

he brings you home every night, your finger tips colliding as you warm your hands with the vents and smile shyly when the sensation from your skin meeting zips through you. 

it’s a dark and clear night tonight, what seems like darker than any other december night, and there’s hundreds of stars in the sky. it’s something you both notice but don’t have the hearts to comment on, both of you catching the other peeking out the window or admiring the sight above you at a red light. 

you bite down on your lip when he catches you, a blush creeping up on your face before you stutter out a question. the first one that comes to mind.

“you excited to be going back home?” 

the smirk on his face is so obviously teasing but you don’t have the stomach to be snippy right now, grateful when he decides to play it nice tonight and answer without calling you out. 

“how ‘bout you? your parents must be so happy.”

“they are. not happy that i’ll be using their car all break but i think they’re still happy,” you giggle out, wooyoung looking over at you an eyebrow raised.

“it’s still fucked?”

“yeah,” you sigh out with a shrug. “it’s okay though, it’ll definitely be fixed by the time i’m back for the spring.”

“that’s true but then how are you getting home tomorrow?” 

and that’s how you ended up driving home for christmas break with wooyoung, his pleas, your apprehension, your parents confusion and mingi’s utter disapproval making the trip a very questionable one. 

but it had made sense, you guess, saving your parents an hour drive to a destination wooyoung would be going to anyway. 

“y/n, are you sure you’re okay with this?” mingi had asked, sitting atop your bed as you folded your clothes into a suitcase. you noticed the way the smile fell from his face when you told him, your stomach twisting as something that strangely felt like guilt began to surface. 

but you shook it off and smiled softly at the boy, insisting that an hour with him would be okay. 

“he’s been coming to work and driving me home every night this week, mingi, and i haven’t had a breakdown yet. it’ll be fine.”

the boy doesn’t find your comment assuring in the slightest, narrowing his eyes at you and feeling something pull in his chest. he doesn’t think you’ve realized how much you’ve drifted this week, small things that maybe he’s being too sensitive about or thinking too much into it. 

but he’s wondering why you never asked him for a ride. or why the texts you’d usually send him about rude customers or funny co-workers have dwindled this week. he’s wondering why, for some god forsaken reason, your eyes are brighter and there’s a look on your face that just seems happier. 

ignorance is bliss though and that’s why mingi just nods his head at you and opens his arms, smiling into your hair when you agree to take a quick 30-minute break for an episode that turns into almost three hours of cuddling and giggling.

“that’s not what happened at all!” you squeal, hitting wooyoung in the arm as he incorrectly recounts meeting your parents for the first time. 

“there’s no way i did that!” he says, his lips quirked up and a laugh bubbling in his chest.

“you literally did! i almost died, that’s how i remember so well,” you screech, never forgetting that the first time you introduced a boy to your parents over dinner, he patted his lap and told you to take a seat. 

wooyoung bursts out laughing the same way he did then, your mom looking at you two half in amusement and half in shock while your dad didn’t miss a beat and patted his lap for his wife in return; you were both pink in the face and smacked their arms playfully. 

“your dad always liked me, i never understood why and now i certainly don’t.” 

you bite down on your lip to control your growing smile, the two of you sharing memories the whole ride down. 

it’s probably the worst thing to do at a time like this, where you’re both back in familiar settings, with a hundred different reminders and memories of one another. where you now only have each other and an old group of mutual friends with way too much free time you don’t know what to do with. 

“you were funny i guess,” you tease lightly, a small giggle leaving your mouth when he side eyes you with mock annoyance. “remember when you got him the toilet golf for christmas?” 

wooyoung throws his head back in laughter again and you both giggle and squeal for him to keep his eyes on the road, hitting him in the arm playfully as you tell him it’s still in his bathroom to this day.

“he’s probably real good now, too,” wooyoung says with a wink, the roll of your eyes making him bite back a smile of his own. “what’re you guys doing for christmas this year?” 

you share holiday plans for the remainder of the car ride, telling him that you’ll be going to your aunt’s a few hours away from christmas to new years day. there’s only about five minutes left until you’re home when wooyoung’s next words stir you into shock.

“maybe we could hang out when you’re back. go ice skating or something.”

you press your lips together as you look at him, his face relaxed and eyes on the road like the suggestion had been the easiest thing in the world. you don’t know that, internally, he was kind of freaking out. hoping he didn’t just back track all the progress you guys have made, just within this car ride even. 

ice skating was something you guys did last year together, your hand in his before you promptly fell on your ass but he saved you every time. you were still newly dating and it was all very sweet and pure, cheek kisses and awkward fumbling which were the telltale signs that you were a new couple in the honeymoon phase. 

“i....” 

the words seem caught in your throat, knowing you wanna say yes because friends ice skate. friend hang out like that, this shouldn’t be a new concept to you. 

he can sense your apprehension and quickly meets your gaze, his face falling before he’s quickly shaking his head. 

“only if you want to,” he smiles softly, an uncharacteristic shyness on his face and in his voice. “if you’re bored and got nothing else to do, ya know.” 

not because he desperately wants to be with you during this break. not because hanging out with you this past week has been the happiest he’s felt since almost exactly a year ago. 

“no, yeah, sure. that’d be nice,” you eventually stutter out, a smile breaking out across wooyoung’s face that calms all the anxiety and tension in your body. you can feel this attachment is wrong and unhealthy but it’s like you have no control over it anymore, blinded by him and the memories and the way he makes you feel. 

the way you watch his car drive off after he walks you to the door, already buzzing with excitement for your...friendly outing with wooyoung in the next few weeks. 

the holidays pass as quickly as they came and soon enough, you’re running around your room picking the finishing touches on your outfit as wooyoung is set to arrive in a few minutes. he had called you this morning after he woke up, telling you to dress warm and that he’d see you later tonight at six. 

you hear your door bell ring and your eyes widen, moving to the clock to see he’s, surprisingly, five minutes early. you deem your matching boots and jacket good enough, running down the stairs and to the door. 

you’re only faintly aware of the fact you can’t see his head through the top glass window the way you saw mingi’s when he came to your house last winter, shaking the memory from your head and smiling when you see wooyoung standing there with a cup of hot chocolate.

“hey b...y/n,” he smiles, his heart pulling in his chest so much he almost slipped up and forgot you’re only friends. but you just look so pretty and this feels a lot like a date, his stomach twisting and heart pounding in such a foreign way; he hasn’t been on a date since...

“hi! thank you, woo,” you smile softly, taking the cup from his hand and ushering him inside quickly. “just gotta find my keys. my parents are still at my aunts.”

“was hoping to see your dad, ask him about his golfing skills,” wooyoung teases, not coming to terms with the true anxiety and shame he feels knowing the older man definitely knows what he did to his daughter.

but if he does, you don’t make any indication of it; only smile at him and nod your head toward the couch, telling him you’ll be ready in a few minutes. he goes into the living room and smiles upon seeing your christmas tree light up with white lights and homemade ornaments. 

your house smells of vanilla and the fireplace is crackling, a perfect warm contrast to the cold, biting weather outside. he plops down and watches the fire crackle, the heat warming his face and making him lean back with his eyes closed. 

the warmth of the fire makes him melt further into the couch, sinking back into the comfortable couch until it almost feels like he could fall asleep.

you walk back in a few moments later and see the sight before you, your eyes widening and heart lurching because fuck. he has no right looking like that, sprawled out handsome and relaxed on your couch with the soft fire glowing on his face. 

your eyes rack down his body quickly, his eyes closed and legs spread, head tipped back against the couch in a way that looks like he... you have to shake your head out of the daze, your own cheeks flushing because you feel like an absolute gawking pervert right now.

even though you’re painfully aware of how long it’s been since you last...

you shake your head again and make you way over, his eye peeking open upon hearing your footsteps, your pink cheeks and wet lips making him swallow and twitch in his seat; you look so fucking pretty tonight.

“hey,” he smiles, voice gruff and low as he looks you over. “you look nice.”

“you too,” you smile softly, your eyes moving from him to the roaring fire. “do you like it?” 

but his eyes are still on you, roaming your body in a way that has his cock straining in his pants. he’s missed you and fuck has he missed those parts of you, too. he can see something behind your eyes but he’s not sure if it’s just his own lust creeping up on him, a hunger that he never thought he’d see again from you.

“like what?” 

his voice is deep and gruff and sounds so rough, you have to stop the shudder from going through you. you can only swallow the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the sensation ripping between your legs as you look at him watching you. 

with eyes so dark and lustful you can only hope that your own desire isn’t imagining it, staring back at him as you lick at your dry lips and remind yourself to breathe.

“th-the fire,” you say nodding your head toward the flames he was entranced by before. “do you like it?” 

“oh,” he laughs out, the lump in his throat and growing arousal far too much right now. “yeah, i do. it’s nice.” 

you nod your head as you look down and play with your fingers, bag hanging from your shoulder as you watch him from the middle of the room. the air is thick and the room feels 100 degrees, your heart pounding in your ears as you hear the whipping wind outside. 

that’s where you guys should go right now. in the cold. around people. not alone in a hot space that’s only getting more and more tense.

“i...should we go or?” 

he looks from you to the window to the fire and then back to you, a small pout on his face as he leans himself back on the couch. “five more minutes? it’s so fucking cold out and this is nice.”

you almost wanna say no because the tension is too thick right now but you also don’t know if you could move if you tried, nodding your head as a quiet “sure,” leaves your mouth. 

the room is silent and you’re looking at him while he’s watching you, the need to swallow becoming more and more prevalent before you cock your head to the side. 

“is it really cold out? should i wear something heavier?” 

you know you don’t have to. this is your heaviest winter jacket, you just need to say fucking anything before you do something you might regret. or not regret at all, anything to feel relief and remember the way his lips feel against yours. 

“no, that should be fine,” he says, smiling as he looks over your outfit and face again. “you look good. really good.”

a shy smile crosses your face and you feel a blush creep up on your face, looking down at your boots that may or may not be new. 

“thanks. so do you,” you say softly, meeting his gaze and biting down on your lip when he smiles teasingly at you.

“is that why you’re all the way over there?” 

your eyes narrow and breath hitches and you almost think he knows how much he’s effecting you right now. how long it’s been since you’ve had any sort of contact with another person that wasn’t completely platonic or pure. 

“shut up,” you mumble, taking a few small steps toward the couch but still keeping your distance. he raises an eyebrow almost challengingly and that’s when you feel yourself growing more suspicious, cocking your head to the side as you blatantly look him over.

you watch him roll his tongue over his lips before looking into the fire place, that familiar tick in his jaw and neck making you smirk before feigning innocence again. 

“you really like that, don’t you?”

his eyes raise to you, not a trance of teasing or amusement on his face as he look at you. it’s all dark and lustful and you don’t know where this is all coming from but it’s creeping up on you fast. 

“the fire, i mean,” you add, nodding your head toward the furnace again. 

his eyes narrow and jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into your lip to stop the smirk from creeping back up on your face; but it must not help completely because you watch a different sort of look cover wooyoung’s face.

one you haven’t seen in a long time.

“a lot of smart ass remarks for someone who’s standing across the room,” he bites back, eyes widening and cock twitching when you shrug your shoulders and are suddenly standing right in front of the couch. 

you can only look down at him with a small smirk on your face, eyebrow’s raised as if to say now what are you gonna say? but you should know by now that wooyoung is almost never speechless or action-less, spreading his legs out on the couch just a little bit more before a teasing smile crosses his face. 

he repeats the actions he did that first day meeting your parents, tapping his lap  again as he licks over his lips and tells you your seat is still here. he knows it’s a risk and so do you but it doesn’t stop you from looking over his body, everything in you screaming that if you do this, there’s no going back. 

you’re gonna be back to where you were months ago, caught in a cycle of worry and fear and all-consuming emotions, something dangerous and draining when a person like him knows they have power over you.

but right now, after the past three months of going back and forth with him and sorting through your emotions, you just wanna forget everything. turn your brain off for a second and do something, anything, that’s gonna make you feel something other than sadness and anger and confusion. 

“come here.”

the command is gruff and deep and makes your lower stomach swoop, your fingers falling to zip off your jacket before your bag lands on the floor with a plop and you’re straddling your cheater of an ex-boyfriend right on your living room couch.

your lips collide and he groans at the same time you moan into his mouth, a mess of open-mouthed kisses and tongues that feel so pent up and natural, it’s like neither of your brains are on. 

when you move against him and feel his hard cock under you, it only spurs you on to do it more. press your body into him and wrack your fingers through his hair. 

he growls into your mouth and places his hands on your hips, his finger tips digging into your shirt as he disconnects your lips for air and travels down your neck. 

his kisses are wet and sloppy but you throw your head back anyway, every part of your body burning and begging and aching to be touched by him. and it’s like he knows it, he still knows every part of your body better than you or anyone else in the world, sucking a hickie into your neck as his hands cup your ass. 

“jesus christ, y/n,” he growls into your skin, your eagerness and closeness and warm body against his making all the blood go right to his cock. you can feel it pressing harder against you and let out a whine, pulling his face away from your neck so you can crash your lips against his again. 

it’s a flurry of kissing and sucking and biting, your own hands ripping your shirt over your head before wooyoung’s face is in your chest and sucking hickies onto your skin. you lean your head back and let out a whine, your hand tightening in his hair before you push him back and pull at the bottom of his shirt. 

he can only smirk at the pout on your face, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your cheek. “still so fucking good for me, aren’t you?” he hums lowly, waiting until you nod for him to pull his shirt off and place a smack on your ass. 

it echoes through your empty house and you let out a whine, pushing yourself against him before he takes your face in his hand.

“and you’ve only been good for me still, right?” he asks lowly, his voice deep and possessive in a way you’ve never heard before. it sends butterflies right through your stomach and in between your legs, wetness pooling in your underwear as he tightens his hold on you. “no one else has fucked you, right?”

and you know that should be the tipping point. 

you know you should rip yourself away from him and slap him again, ask him why the fuck that matters when you know for a fact he’s been with someone else too. he’s been with someone while lying to you and acting as if everything was okay. that you were never indebted to him after the breakup and you still aren’t now. 

but instead, you shake your head and look at him all wide-eyed and glossy, your breathy “only you have fucked me,” making him growl before flipping you over and ridding you from the rest of your clothes. 

he falls to his knees before pulling to the edge of the couch and devouring your dripping pussy, his tongue lapping at you in a way that makes you scream out and push yourself against him. your stomach is tightening and legs are shaking and you can’t stop the moans that are leaving your mouth, repeating his name like a mantra as he slips a finger in.

“oh god, baby,” he growls against your wetness, your hole so tight around his finger he can’t wait to be buried inside of you. 

“let- let me ride you,” you beg despite the way you’re still pushing yourself on his face. it’s a pleasure you don’t ever want to stop but you also wanna feel him inside you, missing so desperately what it feels like to be full of his cock. 

“ah, ah, you gotta come on my tongue first,” he demands lowly, curling his finger inside of you and making you cry out. “you’ve been such a good girl for me. don’t get bad now.”

“b-but i wanna-”

he sucks your clit into his mouth and you scream out, legs shaking and hips bucking into his face before your orgasm hits and you’re shaking against the couch. 

you barely have time to catch your breath before he lifts you up and pulls you on top of him, guiding you over his cock before you sink down on him and you  both moan out at the same time. 

“oh my god,” you whine out at the same time he grunts “fuck,” your movements slow and easy as you adjust to his size in you. but once the slight sting has dulled and he feels you relax slightly, he pulls your face to his and connects your lips. 

“now ride me, baby. i know you’ve missed sitting on my cock, haven’t you?” 

with your hands gripping the back of the couch, you nod as you start to lift your hips up and down, leaning forward every so slightly so you can feel something against your already stimulated clit. 

“answer me. who’s are you? who’s cock have you missed sitting on?”

“y-you, wooyoung. you. i’ve- i’ve missed your cock,” you whine, your hips moving more frantically the more you bounce up and down on him. your breaths are labored and the room feels at least 30 degrees hotter, his grunts and groans and your high-pitched yelps filling the festive living room. 

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this tight pussy again,” he growls out, when he feels himself getting close and needs you to come again before he can release inside of you. “i...you’re mine, baby. you fucking get that now, don’t you? you’re mine. and you’ll always be mine.”

“yes,” you whine out, frantically moving against him before moaning out when he starts fucking up into you. “yes, yes, yes. yours, wooyoung. p-please come, let me come, i wanna feel you-”

his last final grunt cuts you off and you feel your own orgasm take over, both of you riding out your highs and moaning each other’s names over and over until your ears are ringing and hearts are pounding in your chests. 

you’re faintly aware of his hand rubbing up and down your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your head before he pulls out of you and lays on the couch.you close your eyes and let out a tiny whine at his exit, a small smile lingering on wooyoung’s face as he grabs a baby wipe from the bathroom to clean between your legs.

you smile lazily at him when you see him between your legs, cheeky fuck he is placing a teasing kiss between on your clit as he walks away laughing at your squeal. 

he collapses on top of you when he’s back, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you completely and places another kiss on your neck. he peppers them down your skin and you can only smile, still on the high of your orgasm and feeling loved that you can’t register all the other emotions fighting to break through.

fear and confusion and maybe even slight panic, realizing you just gave in and fucked the life out of the ex-boyfriend you know you’re supposed to hate. 

the doorbell ringing is the first thing that brings you back to reality a few minutes later, jumping up and nearly smacking wooyoung in the head had he not also lifted his head. his eyes are wide but not as bad as you, a smirk on his face as he asks if you’re expecting company.

“i don’t think so?” you say, pulling on your jeans before you start to frantically search for your shirt. wooyoung’s quick to throw you his, a knowing smile on your face because you remember how much he loved to see you in his clothes after you guys had sex. 

and that hasn’t seemed to change. 

“it’s definitely not my parents, they’d just use their key,” you assure him, attempting to fix your messy sexy hair that wooyoung’s always thought was the sexiest shit. “i’ll be right back.”

as you walk through the kitchen and peer out the front door, it feels like time stops when you see a familiar head of hair through the window. it’s like an exact parallel of the day mingi came to see you when you guys made up, except you hadn’t just fucked wooyoung on your couch. 

and sure enough when you open the door, there mingi is with a handful of flowers and a large cup of tea in hand. 

“hey! sorry i’m late, i can’t believe how much-”

his face drops the moment he takes in your appearance, messy hair, flushed pink cheeks, hickies on your neck, and an inside-out t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination of what you just got done doing. 

“traffic there was,” mingi finishes quietly, staring back at your surprised, shocked face in a way that makes his heart drop in his chest - you didn’t remember. 

“i...hi,” is all you dumbly say, the high from before quickly vanishing as you stare at mingi who’s looking more broken-hearted and confused by the second. it’s already making you wanna cry, his usually starry eyes dim and confused as he looks you over. 

“did...you forget i was coming?” he laughs out, humor in his tone that sounds so horribly masked you have to hold back tears. 

“happy new year, y/n! let’s hope this year brings us-”

your aunts words are cut off by blaring of your phone, mingi’s name popping up on your screen making a smile break out across your face; you’re not surprised he’s the first one calling to welcome you into the new year. 

“you should get that,” your aunt smirks, a blush on your cheeks as you shake your head and tell her it’s not like that. 

but she thinks the smile on your face says otherwise, the giggles and laughs and the way you throw your head back as you talk to the person on the other end of the phone. 

“i should be back in two days, you can come see me then drama queen,” you smile into the phone, mingi’s whiney complaints that he misses you so much, he doesn’t think he remembers what you even look like. “i’ll be home around six, i expect you there with flowers and a hot beverage.”

“oh my god.”

guilt like you’ve never experienced rushes through you all at once, face pale and mouth open as tears build up behind your eyes. mingi can see them building and already knows what’s happening, a lump forming so tight in his throat he can only shake his head.

“it’s okay, y/n.”

because he saw the car across the street; he thought, maybe, it was a coincidence - ignorance is bliss, after all, but he knew your reaction was gonna be the only thing he needed to see. and the tears in your eyes makes it pretty obvious what’s going on right now.

“wait. no mingi, it’s not. please. just let me-”

“no, it’s okay, really. i- i should’ve told you i was still coming. how were you supposed to know?” 

“we talked two days ago. i- i remember talking and planning it, i just...”

wooyoung called me, too. wooyoung called me and asked to go ice skating and   it was like after that, everything else was gone from your memory. you were so consumed by that you forgot you were supposed to-

“it’s okay,” he assures again, a small sad smile on his face as he holds out the flowers and drinks. “consider it a special delivery.”

and when you don’t take it, just continue to stare blankly at him, he places the drink and flowers on the steps and turns around wordlessly. because he’s not about to break down and have this conversation with wooyoung in the house, have you explain yourself when he obviously misunderstood things here. 

he’s just about to his car door when he hears your footsteps running after him, his eyes closing tight to fight off the few small tears building in his eyes. 

“mingi, wait. please wait, i-”

“it’s fine, y/n. i...i was stupid,” he laughs out humorlessly, turning around and looking over your already tear-stained face. “i misunderstood and that’s okay. i...we never officially said we were doing hanging out and i-”

“you didn’t misunderstand anything,” you’re quick to tell him, your mind completely clear as you take in mingi’s dejected face; you know you’re both not only talking about tonight’s plans.

you’re talking about the past ten months together. the friendship you built and the lingering touches and smiles. the way you made each other feel so safe and content and at ease. the way you only ever really smiled and laughed around one another.

his face looks familiar now though. his entire demeanor looks familiar, except you think you recognize more because you remember feeling like you looked a lot like that last winter. like you saw something you shouldn’t have and felt hurt in a way no one’s hurt you before. 

and you think those might’ve been the wrong words to say because within the next few silent seconds, mingi’s face morphs from devastation to the smallest hint of anger you’ve ever seen from him.

“don’t say that.”

tears fall from your eyes and you feel like you can’t breathe, watching him grip the handle of his door like he’s dying to get the fuck in his car and away from your house. 

“if...if i didn’t misunderstand anything, y/n, then i... this...” mingi shakes his head because he can’t even fathom this whole situation right now. but he knew from the beginning your relationship was very up in the air, the two of you never officially claiming to be anything. 

“we never talked about anything. our feelings or the kiss, so i did misunderstand things,” mingi confirms again, because this rationalization is easier. not feeling the need to hate you and yell at you and ask what the fuck you were thinking is easier. 

“i thought you were just...you know, figuring it out still so i didn’t wanna pressure you. but maybe that was wrong, maybe you just never wanted-”

“mingi, please. no. i know this looks bad but we can-”

“y/n?” 

wooyoung’s voice makes you both freeze, you keeping your gaze on mingi while his goes to the boy at the door. you can’t see the challenging look in wooyoung’s eyes or the smug look on his face, mingi’s hand tightening on the door as he tells you he’s leaving now.

“what?” you cry out, eyes wide and watery as you shake your head frantically. 

you know you’re being unfair and you know this is over but you can’t help but hold onto just for a second longer, your heart pulling so horribly in your chest, you’re not sure you’ve felt pain like this before.

“i’m leaving, y/n. get away from my car, okay?”

he keeps his voice soft and sweet and quiet, begging you to just go back to wooyoung as he keeps his eyes trained away from the boy. because he knows if he looks at him again, he’s gonna run over and beat the shit out of him.

“mingi, please, i didn’t-”

“it doesn’t matter anymore,” mingi says coldly, voice a bit harsher and louder. “just get away from my car.” 

“i know it looks bad but please, mingi, please, i didn’t mean to-”

“get the fuck away from me.”

your face falls and lower lip quivers, mingi’s face crumbling before he runs his hand over his face. he takes a few deep, calming breaths before his large hand cups your face, daring wooyoung to come over and say something right now, as his thumb runs over your cold skin and wipes at the wetness. 

“i’m sorry. i just...i have to go.”

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you blurt out, knowing and seeing clear as day that’s what happened. “i didn’t know... we never said...i...” 

you don’t know what to say but you know this all feels very fucking wrong. you know that you feel like you messed up one of the best friendships and relationships you’ve ever had, the pulling feeling deep within your gut making you wanna vomit.

“i know, y/n, it’s okay,” he assures gently, his hand falling from your face and making you feel ten degrees colder. “i just gotta go, okay? please.”

your face crumbles as you find that you can’t look away from him, only backing away when he’s able to open the door and wedge himself in. 

he turns on his car and puts it drive before he can even put his seatbelt on, his eyes never leaving yours until he’s taking off down the block and suddenly the neighborhood is quiet. 

you hear footsteps making their way up behind you but can’t move from your spot, staring at the spot his car just occupied before arms wrap around your body.

you can feel now that they’re far too cold and far too short and feel far too wrong. how could you have not felt this before? known that this just didn’t feel right?

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch mingi’s fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses his face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

“i’m happy you’re mine again,” wooyoung whispers in your ear, his breath ghosting over your lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “we can work through this, okay? you know how much i love you, baby.”

but do you really know that? what about when the next girl comes along, with dark hair and a pretty smile and makes him feel so desired, he just tells you that again because he knows, in the end, you’ll believe him?

the end

tag list: @mochibabycakes​ @atinyarmyx1​ @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich​ @minbinwhore​ @chrryhwa​ @chogiout​ @marksflvr​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​

[h50europe]

Why the ending of the series finale felt off for many of us (and what PL could have had really in mind) - Aphorisms

As you can easily see from the photos, season 11 was a safe bet, as was a new team member, McCole. What could have been, it says, written by Justin, the wife of Alex stunt/stand-in double. I'm going to play the advocatus diaboli.

In the penultimate episode of H50, Lenkov created a new character. He was sort of based on Steve, but also not. As it turned out in the last episode, Cole and Steve also had a mutual friend: Catherine. Why does that not really surprise us? The rumor mill was really churning, and it was a given that PL was definitely going to bring her on board. So, without further ado, he made her a key person. She was the one who cracked the ominous code that Doris had left for her son. Question, couldn't Jerry have done that just as well?

Anyway, PL set up Cole and Steve. But the chemistry - for us - wasn't really there. They could have just as easily put anyone next to Steve. PL built on the military past of the two (what else) and finally the common denominator: Catherine. Oh, how original. NOT. If you look at this constellation, you can already guess where this was going. But there remained this one obstacle: Danny.

Well, no problem, Lenkov thought and had him kidnapped without further ado. All planned because of all the great McDanno moments we got to see in season 10. So appropriately for lulling, even if these moments did not have nearly as much heart as in previous seasons, but hey, the fans would swallow and relish it, PL thought.

Then came the obligatory threatening call from Daiyu Mei (note the clever pun ala Yoda: die you may...), and the drama unfolded. The whole thing was further clarified by the words of Wo Fat's ex: "I have the person you care about most in the world." Bummer, as she is not talking about Catherine but Danny. Queerbaiting at its worst. Then comes the usual. And during the escape attempt, Danny, who is already half-dead, gets shot. So far, so good, or not.

Danny's injuries could have easily been fatal. So now I'm going off the premise and just claiming that this was PL's original plan. Why? PL did mention at one point that he could imagine H50 without Steve or Danny, but he certainly wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It was nothing more than a smoke grenade. But what PL had wanted for a long time was the end of McDanno. He preferred another ship. But while McDanno sailed blithely across the seven seas, PL's fav ship never left the harbor. But now, he had the ultimate opportunity with a new, equal partner at Steve's side (Book'em Cole), who also pulled Catherine out of a hat.

PL's heart did somersaults. What a great plan that was. Alex didn't say anything about really wanting to quit, even after the series ended. While he had been open about his departure after season 7, there was no need to hide this fact now in season 10. And as you can easily see, all signs were pointing toward season 11. What PL didn't count on was the massive resistance from CBS.

In contrast to PL, they had no problems with Scott/Danny or McDanno. They knew that this was the heart and soul of the show. And PL's protector Moonves was no longer available because he had been kicked out of the network. So PL's back was against the wall. And nothing and nobody could change that. Too bad, because actually, PL had everything perfectly planned.

Danny would either die on the way to the hospital or later in the hospital. This would lead Steve to a massive revenge attack, which should have ended in a brilliant showdown (brilliant for PL, not necessarily for the fans), but Daiyu Mei escapes eventually. Then, Steve would have been driving around aimlessly. We were possibly shown some flashbacks, only to end up at Casa McGarrett, where Catherine would have already been waiting for him. Nice reversal of the goodbye scene from season 6.

The conversation between Steve and her would have been similar to Danny's, except that it wouldn't have been about his parents, but about Danny and that he just can't take it in Hawaii any longer. Too much reminds him of his dead friend. Steve also wanted to pay his final respect and bring him back home to Jersey. Of course, Catherine suggests joining him. What else? Now that one ship sunk, PL could easily replace it with HIS fav ship. And because Cole has done so well, Steve also entrusts him with the task force's leadership. Before Steve leaves to accompany Danny on his last journey, he hands Cole his credentials.

Steve and Cath stand next to each other at the airport and watch as Danny's coffin is loaded onto the plane. Then they board the plane together, ending with them holding hands as we know it. Fade out, season 10 ends.

How would it have continued in season 10? Danny's funeral would have happened off-screen, like so many other pivotal scenes. Steve would have maybe spent an episode or two mulling it over and then returned to Hawaii to hunt down Daiyu Mei with Cole and the team, which now included Catherine.

So much for Lenkov's wet dream, um, plan. However, because CBS knew that McDanno was the heart and soul of the series, they found this idea more than lousy and turned PL down. We could imagine that Alex also threw in that he would certainly not continue without Scott. There was a short back and forth, and it was decided to cancel the show. So we've come full circle to the sloppy, heartless execution of the last episode and the absolutely meaningless words PL put in Steve's mouth as a result. Due to lack of creativity and apparent lack of time, the deadline seemed to be predetermined, considering how quickly the soundstages at Diamond Studios were obliterated.

The crew was equally surprised when PL succinctly informed them that there would be no season 11. See the post from an angry crew member on IG.

Can we prove any of this? Nope, but it's the only reasonable explanation for why the show ended the way it did. Namely, completely illogical, with a Steve who was more than just off the rails. At the very beginning of the series, Steve gives completely different reasons for staying. If you do a rewatch, you'll see.

Everybody knows that you don't solve problems by running away. You don't get rid of the weight that you carry around with you. Steve may be a stubborn mule, but one thing he has never been: self-centered. And if Danny was really the most important thing in the world to him, as Mei said, then he wouldn't have dumped him in the end. Because that's what you do when you really love someone, you stay and fight against all odds. Especially when someone is in a bad place, like Danny, who has just jumped from the brink of death.

You don't suddenly go on a self-realization trip and kick the person who's already lying on the ground. But that's exactly what Steve did. At least the way PL wrote the part. The man must have really lost it when he wrote those lines. I'm sure he was enjoying pure schadenfreude.

And if you take a close look at the two protagonists, you can clearly see the reluctance with which they shared it all with the audience. There was no more room for any affectionate ad-lib actions that we knew from before. They could only stubbornly reel off what was in the script. PL would have done well to sit down with Scott and Alex and find a common solution instead of imposing his version on them and the audience. That's what people with integrity do, but the man never any.

In our opinion, the show's ending ranks among the dumbest and most unimaginative of all time. Rarely a person manages to drive a show against the wall in such a way and at the same time assassinated the main characters. PL shouldn't be proud of it. He should rather stand in a corner and be ashamed of himself.

And now you can go ahead and bash us, or just ignore the whole thing and keep on scrolling. Thank you for your time and for letting us share our thoughts with you.

[notsuchacleverboyq]

This Scene Confuses Me

Since I was a child, my family enjoyed watching 007 movies (even if they used to stick more to the vintage versions of it).

So, I've never been new to this fandom nor to the general plot and everything that comes with it.

After becoming a fan on my own, my favourite 007 movies absolutely turned out to be Skyfall and Spectre.

More Skyfall, to be honest.

I was eight when it first came out, but I started questioning details (and getting obsessed over characters) only after nine years.

And it is my ability to overthinking that caused this shitty and useless post.

There are plenty of details that are worth a debate and I think that 90% of those are just how bloody lucky (and unlucky at the same time) Bond can be.

But today we'll be discussing about a specific scene, which involves Silva and 007.

What the hell is going on?!

This scene confuses me every time because I don't know what I'm supposed to get from all of the details in here.

The way Silva touches Bond, the way 007 reacts, their chat...the whole just doesn't make any sense to me.

1) Silva

Obviously, my queer brain jumped to conclusions: Silva is gay.

He does give off gay vibes, but it just seems random for a character like him to put up such a scene just for pleasure.

There must be something else.

This is the point in which I got lost under a comment section of another YouTube video.

I found out that there are three kinds of people:

Silva is gay;

Silva is trying to make Bond uncomfortable;

Both at the same time.

We've already clarified that we can agree on number 1.

What about number 2?

He has tied up Bond to a chair, he's basically undressing him and touching him in way too intimate spots, he's listing any of Bond's bad results from MI6 tests...

I think it might make sense for Silva to be doing anything he can to make 007 uncomfortable.

In that comment section, indeed, the most popular explanation was Silva hitting several weak spots at the same time, in order to open Bond like a can of tuna and leave him helpless.

Here are the things Silva tries:

He ties Bond to a chair: it's a detail that is so common in these movies that people don't even consider it. It is necessary for Silva to tie Bond, in order to prevent him from escaping; but when Silva unties him it is clear that he isn't worried about 007 at all. They're on a damn island where the only people are Silva and his men: it would be stupid to even try something on your own. It also was Silva's plan to be captured by MI6, since the beginning. Which leads to an only possible conclusion: 80% of the reasons why Bond was tied up was just to get him annoyed by it. It also connects to the following points;

Silva touching him: this is the part that made all of that confusing to my eyes. Being a former MI6 agent himself, Silva knows how double-0s work, think and act. That's they key of the whole scene. So he knew how 007 could have played it cool in any possible situation and that's why he tied him up. Double-0s can fake complicity even in the most horrible scenarios, but what if it is happening and they could do nothing about it? This was Silva's strategy: getting Bond in the position in which he can't switch from being a victim to being accomplice of it. Silva started running his fingers over 007's skin and scars, stopping on the weakest spots (such as the throat);

Silva attacking Bond's identity: it connects to point 2. This the moment in which Silva gets flirty, since I don't have a better way to call it. Someone's sexuality is part of their identity, so Silva attempts to overstep Bond's boundaries by violating both: his touch is intimate and gentle, despite the situation, his voice is soft and the gaze is too dary. But 007 quickly makes clear how he has no problem with all of that and how it isn't his "first time";

Silva attacks Bond's patriotism and loyalty to M: we well know how Silva has completely lost trust in M and it seems that, for a moment, he's trying to get Bond on his side. In my opinion, that's not completely true. At first impact, it's easy to miss it, but Silva attempts to get all of Bond's beliefs to falter. He firstly tries with M: he tells 007 about how disloyal and unfair the woman can be, reproaching him even how she has sent him on missions even after he failed all of the tests; then, Silva tries with England: he tells Bond about how the Country he still defends and believes in is already dead, fallen, and how useless it is to save it. Nothing of this works and it's misunderstood as an attempt to get 007 on the evil side, since Silva's lost trust both in England and M;

Sévérine: after all of the above didn't work, Silva is left with only one thing. We know know that Bond seduces Sévérine in Skyfall and then Silva finds out; so, he decides to put up a sadistic game to get rid of her and punish 007 at the same time. All of Silva hopes is that Bond got affectionate to the woman and he suffers as a result of the game. Eventually, Silva has to shoot Sévérine himself and Bond reacts as if he couldn't have cared less.

In conclusion, we can agree to point 2 as well.

So, yes: Silva might be gay and trying to make Bond uncomfortable at the same time.

Yet the most confusing part still needs to be discussed.

2) "What Makes You Think This Is My First Time?"

I have several questions, but the first is: what the hell does that mean?

He has already been in such a situation;

He has already slept with a man;

Let's consider the quote Silva's just said before James':

How you're trying to remember your training now.

What's the regulation to cover this?

Well, first time for everything. Yes?

Considering that Silva is trying to discard Bond's sanity, I guessed that he alludes to rape when he asks 007 what his training can do for that situation.

Double-0s are prepared to face anything and get out of it almost as nothing has happened. This might explain Silva's reference to the training.

Bond's reply suggests that he had already gone through that and could do it again if circumstances required it.

It all connects to Silva trying to make 007 uncomfortable through homosexuality.

It wouldn't be new that Bond, due to his job, has needed to seduce a man. We could expect such.

So he might fly over Silva's gender and sex.

I'm still really confused over this point and don't know what to think. But James being a rape survivor is somehow an underrated Headcanon and probable, considering his job.

If someone has different ideas and explanations they're all well accepted. Maybe we can end up to a conclusion that makes sense.

[poppysmc]

I Don't Know How You Do It But I'm Forever Ruined

Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for so so long, unfinished with a different song and Im just obsessed with this song right now so I thought I'd go ahead and post it.. sorry for the mistakes I don't have a beta so they're all mine. I'm just slowly getting back to writing again, please be patient with me. ❤️

Song: Off my face - Justin Bieber

(One shot)

Last and certainly not the least…. Ms. Morgan Hughes, she’ll be gracing us with her angelic voice, singing… uhh… Off my face? Thomas reads the cue cards, slightly puzzled, he thought Morgan would be doing stand-up, he and Morgan’s posse endured long nights of practicing her stand-up routine and now she’s just gonna sing, it’s not even vetted on.

He glances to the side, silently confirming if it was right. Morgan nods and smiles nervously. He in turn smiles back, giving an encouraging thumbs up and a whisper of ‘good luck’ as she takes to the stage.

Some of the audience chuckled at the name choice, adding to the ever growing lump lodged in her throat. This is definitely not her best idea and before she could go ranting about the title, some of her friends clapped and cheered, giving her a slight boost of confidence.

She wrote thet a few months ago, absently plucking at the guitar strings. She’s got the same few chords stuck in her head for week. Only god knows how she pulled the lyrics out of her muddled brain.

How does one go about sharing her feelings for someone who has no idea? Said someone sitting front and center with a scowl, sitting next to her parents. She has no idea she wrote it for her, she sighs in relief.

For a split second she could see Poppy’s attention snap up to her, smirking and raising her eyebrow in question. Morgan rolls her eyes at her and settled into her chair and just like Poppy’s face never moved, her scowl was back in place, listening to Chloe rant about her talent to her right.

She starts plucking out the intro, it’s now or never.

One touch and you got me stoned

Higher than I’ve ever known

You call the shots and I’ll follow

Sunrise but the night’s still young

No words but we’re speaking tongues

If you let me I might say too much

Sometimes people just enter your life and burrow themselves so deep into it that for the life of you, you couldn't remember when it all started. This case was different, Morgan could vividly remember a day it all changed, how it became harder for her to even look Poppy in the eye for more than a few seconds. How her warm touch roughly pulling her back to the argument now seemed to burn through her sleeves, pressure slightly softer. She used to meet her hot gaze, faces only inches apart spitting out vicious insults without thinking much, now she didn’t have the same fire in her veins she seemed to have arguing with Poppy.

The need to antagonize her fizzled into something else, a warmth that threatens to overtake her made itself a home in her chest.

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

Morgan wanted to stay home, as much as she enjoyed parties, it wasn’t something she wanted to do regularly. Sometimes it gets a little too much to handle, the music felt too loud, the people got too close, the eyes on her felt stifling. She wanted to be free just this one night out of expectant looks but Zoey is too convincing, her puppy dog eyes are too powerful for a mere mortal like herself. She made a condition to just be at the party no over the top expensive clothes, just herself.

“I’ll come but just to be your glorified chauffer.” She dresses herself in something simple, a pair of black pants and flannel. “I just want to be invisible this one night, Zo.”

“Fine by me, but if your fashion choices end up splashed all over The T tomorrow don’t come crying to me.” Zoey shakes her head, the slight dig on her wardrobe is softened by a thankful grin.

“You get dragged on The T once, and no one lets you live it down.”

“Because I’m pretty certain I said don’t go out in that, it’s suicide. So yeah I would never let it go, you wore socks with your flip-flops and had the audacity to show yourself in public.”

“It’s not even my fault, sunny ran out the door. I had no time to check what I was wearing."

“You’ll never learn. Whatever will you do without me?” Zoey smirks and shakes her head affectionately. "Stop stalling and let’s go. My carriage awaits dear chauffer.”

“Yeah, yeah. Please allow me to escort you down, boss.” Morgan bumps her shoulders with Zoey as she passes by to grab her jacket. She opens the door and offers her arm, Zoey laughs and loops her arms around hers.

The party was already in full swing once they arrived. The music was blaring; the bass makes Morgan’s chest thump along erratically with every beat. “Text me, okay? I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Sure. Thanks for driving.” Zoey winks and beelines for the bar. In a few seconds she loses sight of her.

Morgan trudges through the house, the crowd gradually thins as she makes her way farther to the back. She exhales in relief finally free of the maze of drunk students with no boundaries, nobody seemed to pay attention to her, thank god for the dim lighting. The backdoor swings open, she breathes in the crisp night air. The door shuts and party fades into muffled thumps. She sat on the porch steps, her side leaning against the banister, oblivious to the pair of eyes quietly observing her.

After a minute of silence, Morgan sucked air through her clenched teeth, surprised at hearing someone pointedly clearing their throat behind her. The rate in which her head whipped back almost made her dizzy. When she recognizes who the person was, she could already feel the headache coming through, she almost swallows her tongue in disbelief. Of all the people she didn’t want to see her tonight was Poppy, yet here she was, alone with her.

“What are you doing back here?” Poppy asked, voice devoid of any venom just genuinely curious.

“Do I need permission to be? Who made you queen?” Morgan scoffs, the slight bite in her voice comes through and makes Poppy smirk.

“Belvoire.” Poppy cheekily answers, earning an undignified snort from Morgan. The slight tension momentarily forgotten.

“Should have seen that coming.”

“The party’s raging inside and little miss newbie sits here. What are you doing, really?” Poppy asks not unkindly, voice tinged with concern and curiosity.

“I could ask the same to you.”

“I asked first.” Poppy frowns impatiently.

Morgan sighs, opting to just answer just to avoid trouble. She didn’t have the energy to make up excuses nor to argue. “I don’t feel like partying today. I’m just waiting for Zoey to get flat out drunk and drive her home. My turn.”

“It’s-  It’s overwhelming inside. I just want to be alone for a while.” The honesty in Poppy’s answer momentarily throws her off.

“Do you want me to go?” Morgan asks, feeling like she’s intruding. This must be the longest record they ever had being civil to one another, actually speaking without the sarcastic comments and the insults. It makes her feel out of place and awkward.

“You could do whatever you want. I’m not the queen of anything right now.” Right, cause technically it's Chloe. There’s something in her tone that makes Morgan’s heart clench, yet she shrugs it off as the bass from the party. To Morgan’s never ending surprise, the blonde pats the spot next to her on the bench. “The floor is filthy.” Poppy clarifies when she makes no move to stand. A disarming smile crosses her face, Morgan guessed her hesitation must have been showing.

Morgan stands and dusts herself off. “Who are you and what have you done to Poppy?” She asks with a grateful smile, sitting down the furthest she could from the other girl.

“I have half the mind to kick you off this bench.” Poppy grumbles.

“There she is.”

Poppy huffs out a half laugh and after that there’s just silence. After a while she could see the slight tremble in Poppy’s hand in her periphery. She wordlessly shrugs off the coat she’s wearing and offers it to the other girl.

“What?” Poppy blinks, eying her coat suspiciously, making Morgan chuckle in disbelief.

“You’re cold. Take it or go inside.”

“Fine.” Poppy slips on the offered garment, appreciating the warmth it gave to her cold limbs. She wasn’t thinking while she burrowed herself further, letting Morgan’s scent envelope her. She stared at Morgan, feeling guilty for a moment. She moves closer, Morgan shivers when their shoulders touched. "Thanks." Poppy whispers, if it wasn't for their proximity, Morgan might have missed it. She hoped the shadows hid the small smile spreading to her lips.

“I’m sorry for taking your coat. I just couldn’t go back inside. I-” Poppy trails off, breaking her gaze away and staring farther up the yard.

“It’s okay, I offered. You don’t have to explain anything.” Morgan understood, after today everything changed, she lost her spot to one of her friends. Morgan was somewhat surprised that instead of Poppy's explosive anger, she opted to just sit here and mope.

She jumps a little when her phone vibrates in her pocket, she could see Poppy smirk in the corner of her eye.

"Jumpy."

She reads the text and taps a reply, frowning. She turns to Poppy. She doesn't even know why she's explaining but it felt wrong to just go without saying anything. A part of her wanted to make this moment stretch a little longer, so she hesitates.

“Apparently Zoey doesn’t need me to drive her back. So... I guess I'll head back home." Morgan stands not having an excuse to stay longer and makes her way to the door, hands hovering over the door knob to open it but not before doing something stupid like asking her so called enemy if she wanted to drive around for a while.

“So… Do you still want company? We could drive around for a while?” Morgan mentally chastises herself for the suggestion. Of course Poppy would say no it’s not like she-

Morgan looks back at Poppy, she sees her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. Morgan’s gaze flickers down to her lips, wondering if they’re as soft as they looked. The moment passed and she breaks her gaze away just as Poppy decided.

“Sure but let me just get my stuff.” Poppy stands and makes her way to the door, Morgan standing motionless, hand over the handle. She reaches for it, her fingertips grazing Morgan’s, the slight static made her pull her hand away abruptly.

“Sorry.” Morgan breaks through her short circuited brain and moves to hold the door open for Poppy.  “I’ll wait for you out front.” Morgan makes her way back through the crowd, her mind reeling at what happened back there and what mess she got herself into.

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

She continued singing, her eyes accidentally meeting Poppy’s gaze again, her scowl was replaced by an unreadable expression, attention now focused solely on her and Morgan almost faltered. She breaks eye contact and stares at the back wall, ignoring the burning gaze upon her from those familiar eyes.

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

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

The sound of the door opening breaks Morgan out of her deep thoughts. She could see Poppy walking towards her with a sour expression, she's still wearing Morgan's coat.

“What happened to you?” Morgan’s warm hands reaching out to her, settling comfortably on her shoulder. Poppy stares at her hands, she pulls it away like she’s been burned.

“Just drive.” Poppy mumbles, trying hard to be composed but failing.

“Where to?” Morgan pretends not to notice Poppy's agitation, barely glancing at her so she won't feel uncomfortable. She unlocks her car slipping inside while Poppy stares at the abomination in front of her.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful but your truck is… I don’t know how to say it without offending you? But maybe it could use a good wash? Like you drove through mud to get here. I don’t know, maybe we could go to a carwash, my treat.”

"That’s about the rudest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and you said a lot of insulting things before." Morgan rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t mean that Betty, you just got a little mud on you.” She murmurs quietly.

“You named your car… Betty?”

“What? No I didn’t.” Morgan could see Poppy’s amused smirk even in her periphery.

“You’re such a dork.” Poppy can’t help but laugh at her mortified expression.

Morgan distracts herself from the rapidly rising heat on her neck by fiddling with the radio before driving off. The sweet sound of the guitar filtered through the car and she smiles triumphantly, previous embarrassment pushed to the back of her mind. She doesn't notice Poppy's expression soften.

Morgan drives her car through the carwash. They watched the water and the soap assault her car, the material of the brushes made a repetitive sound along with one of her favourite songs. Poppy had her seat leaned back, watching the machine rid the car of dust and mud. There was something mildly intimate about it, Morgan could move her right hand then they would be grazing Poppy’s, she could do it, she wanted to do it. But all she could manage was a slight twitch in her pinky, her hand doesn't move any closer.

“Do you ever feel like there’s a hundred people around you in a room, yet you feel alone?” Poppy breaks the silence, tilting her head slightly to the left to look at Morgan.

“Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes people may be looking at you yet feel as if their staring right through you, like your nothing. Oh! Like a ghost.” This makes Poppy chuckle.

“Yeah like that. It would have been easier if we were ghosts at least then you know why.”

“Did you feel like that back at the party?” Morgan wanted to say how that would have been impossible that no one could have seen her, she’s seeing her now. She wondered how could anyone ever take their eyes of her, she always seemed to be the brightest thing in any room she entered and now even in this dingy carwash she looked so radiant. How sometimes she thinks that she picks fights with her just for a chance to be bathed in her light. Thoughts she doesn't think would ever cross her mind trickled slowly and became a raging river. Now that she found herself here with her, without anything familiar to fall back on, anything just to distract herself out of her dangerous thoughts.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It was easier to be alone than surrounded but feeling alone. Do you get it? At least I know, I chose to be alone.”

“I get it.” If she had the ability to say more she would have but these few pathetic words are all she could manage. This time her hand reaches to squeeze Poppy’s. A quiet comfort to reinforce her words, she understood.

“Thank you.”

Whatever atmosphere they created in that moment fell apart when Morgan had to move her car forward and exited the wash.

“Where to now?”

“Your turn to choose.” Poppy mumbles, still staring blankly outside.

“Okay, I know a place. You're gonna love it."

“I’m not going to let you pick anymore.” Poppy complains, standing in front a fluorescent lit diner. It almost glowed but in a weird way, like a bat signal for the weary.

“Hey! They make the best food.” Morgan steps forward and drags her companion along when she hesitated.

Warmth and the ambient sound of cutlery grazing the plates makes Morgan smile. She always came here when she’s feeling lonely, missing her parents, their farm or when she’s stressed from school, for trying to fit in like a robot.

“Come. Don’t just stand there.” Morgan looks back at Poppy, her breath caught in her throat. Poppy looked ethereal against the most basic place there ever is. If you said diners were some kind of portal to somewhere else she’d accept it and move on, for she looked like she existed out of place, alien, untouchable as she was beautiful. For the second time this day her gaze flickers to Poppy’s lips, she realizes that she’s saying something and Morgan’s mortified of being caught staring like a fool.

“What? Is something on my face?” Poppy is thankfully oblivious.

“No, it’s perfect.” Morgan quietly whispers while Poppy checks herself in the diner’s window, her words falling into deaf ears.

Morgan balls up pieces of her straw paper places it over some torn up tissues, stacked together. She’s fidgeting under Poppy’s presence; she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She's startled when Poppy lightly grasps her hands stopping it from tearing up another piece of paper. It’s been minutes of watching Morgan tear up even rectangles of several tissues, a girl could only take so much.

“You’re making a mess.” Poppy chastises her like a child. She would have laughed but Poppy still hasn’t let go of her hand, it’s making her blush like an idiot.

“Sorry. It’s just that the food is taking a while huh?” Morgan stealthily tries to take her hand back but Poppy only holds it tighter. When they're not arguing, Morgan found that she doesn't know how else to act around her.

“Stop tearing paper like confetti.”

“Sorry.” Morgan sheepishly apologizes and Poppy lets go of her hand, hiding hers under the table, flexing it, she could still feel the warmth of her hand in hers.

The food arrives and Morgan smiles widely. Poppy stares, pretending she's interested in what food Morgan ordered. She admits to herself that for all the times she stared at her she never noticed how beautiful Morgan’s smile was. Arguing doesn't leave one space to insert a smile. It made her heart skip, imagining how it would be like if it was directed at her.

She almost misses Morgan stealing a fry off her plate. “Hey! If you wanted some you should have bought your own or at least politely asked.” Poppy mock glares at her companion, taking one of the crumpled balls and flicking it, hitting Morgan right between the eyes. They watched as the paper landed right into Morgan’s half empty milkshake glass.

"Your face!" Poppy laughs, wishing she could have captured it on camera.

Morgan found that she liked Poppy's laugh when it was genuine. “You better buy me another. You ruined mine.”

“What? It’s almost all gone anyway. All the needless calories you’re consuming will bite you in the ass someday.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Just have the rest of mine.” Poppy slides over her milkshake, Morgan grins and takes a sip right into Poppy’s straw. Poppy noticed first, eyes widening. Did She just… A revolting question crossed her mind, how would ‘Morgan’s lips feel like pressed to mine.’ Shes never felt jealous of a piece of plastic before in her life.

Morgan freezes when she realized what she’s done. She just had an indirect kiss with Poppy through the straw. “Sorry. I got excited.”

Poppy opens a new straw for her water, blowing the other end right into Morgans face, another bulls eye, she’s killing it. “Don’t overthink it.” She dismisses the act but her brain does summersaults inside her skull.

They finished eating, the last few of Poppy’s fries stolen right under her nose. She pretends she doesn’t see her sneaking a few of the fries away, she just lets her. Mind preoccupied with important things like Morgan’s lips.

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

Can’t sleep ‘cause I’m way too buzzed

Too late now you’re in my blood

I don’t hate the way you keep me up

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Even if she doesn't look or at least tries her hardest not to, she could feel Poppy's gaze on her, burning, willing her eyes to look back. There's something wildly intimate about singing a song to someone and in the sea of strangers you know it's just for them. No matter how many people sang it, to another, to themselves or just for the heck of it, the song only belongs to the person you made it for. Just for her. They could never feel the way she felt when she wrote it, how her feelings were entwined with every word.

In her periphery she could see Poppy stand and make excuses to her parents. She left, she didn't see where she went, she doesn't dare look anywhere near where she was, she's a coward like that. All she could feel is disappointment. It takes everything in her not to show it on her face. Was it too late to change her talent to stand up?

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

"Come on Poppy, pick a place already. I've been driving around for hours! People will think we're stalking someone around here." Morgan whines in the driver seat taking yet another turn around the block.

"It's been exactly 20 minutes. You're such a baby." Poppy looks at her phone for any places that might still be open around this time. "Turn right, that's not right. Right! Not left."

"Great, now were going in circles. Pull over."  Poppy grumbles.

"What?" Morgan looks confused for a moment but does what she’s told anyway, parking along the street.

"Get out."  Poppy moves to exit the car.

"What are you..?"

"I'm not gonna hijack your car, just let me drive. You suck at following directions."

"...."

They switch seats, Morgan slumps and mopes in hers. Poppy fights back a smile.

“Would you look at that it only took 2 minutes.” Poppy smiles smugly.

“I did all the navigating you only had to turn once.” Morgan complains, getting out of the car and looking around the parking lot. “What the hell Poppy, a 711? You could have told me, I could have turned anywhere and found one.”

“Like hell you could. You don’t even know your left from your right.” Poppy laughs at Morgan’s offended expression. They walked in, shoulders brushing together and Morgan shivers, insisting to herself that it’s because it’s cold.

Poppy smiles, victoriously pulling out what they came here for out of the fridge.

“A freaking capri sun? We drove all the way here for that?” Morgan complains, ready to throttle Poppy. Though there’s something endearing in her expression, that proud smile for finding something she was looking for.

“Just go find something you want.” Poppy shoos her away, grabbing a few more pouches of juice. She shakes her head and walks off in search of snacks.

Morgan comes back with an armful of sweets and chips.

“We just ate. What are you doing? Take these back, I won't buy you all these.”

“You said something I like. I like them all. Come on aren't you rich?” Morgan dumps her haul in the counter, the cashier looking back and forth from them, looking for a sign that it’s okay to scan the items.

“Are you just an overgrown kid or what?”

“Pop, you just bought a juice in a pouch, you have no right to judge me.”

“Fine.”

Morgan carries three bags worth of snacks back to the car, Poppy not attempting to lift a finger just because she paid.

“Your turn. Pick a place.”

Minutes later they're on a cliff overlooking the city. Fading notes from a song playing in Morgan’s car filtered to the back.

“I'm surprised you didn't get lost.”

“I don't suck at directions. You're the one that sucked at giving them.” Morgan says in self-defence. She unlatches the back so they could sit on it, holding Poppy’s waist, helping her up. If Poppy noticed her hands shake, she didn’t say anything. They sat closer together, leaning against the side. She could feel the cold seeping into her shirt, making her shiver. Poppy notices and moves to take Morgan's coat off.

“No. Keep it on.” Morgan stops her, cold hands over equally cold ones.

“But you're cold.”

“I'm not.” Morgan attempts to refute it but her hands are freezing.

“I can see your teeth chattering.”

“I like it on you.” She smiles softly.

“What?”

“I don't want you to be cold. Just take it, don’t be stubborn.”

“If you speak of this to anyone, I would personally kill you in your sleep.”

“Why would you do- oh.” Morgan stared in confusion, then realization.

Poppy moved to sit in the space between her legs, leaning her back into Morgan, taking her hands and wrapping them to her waist. Her hands rubbing over Morgan's freezing ones. To say that she was now warm was an understatement, she was burning from the blush that overtook her body.

“If you wanted to be near me so bad you could've just asked.” Morgan grins, chin propped on Poppy's shoulder.

Poppy huffs and attempts to get up. Morgan's arms stop her, wrapping tighter, keeping her in place. “Don't move, I might freeze to death.”

“That's what I thought.”

They had a toast with the Capri sun pouches, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. They sat there talking for hours, the company was too enjoyable to give in to exhaustion or cold.

From the time they were talking Poppy shifted her position, now sitting on Morgan's lap, staring up at her while she told a story about their farm animals, making her scrunch her nose in disgust at one of her retellings.

They stared at the sky surprised to see the day chasing the night away. How long have they been talking? Morgan looks at her phone and even more surprised that it's nearly 6am. Time went by so fast.

“I always wanted to see the sunrise from here. Thanks for the company.” Morgan smiles softly, running her fingers through her hair to distract herself from Poppy.

No one mentioned how one of their hands are still interlaced together or how Morgan's thumb drew circles on the back. Especially not Poppy's lips softly grazing the underside of her jaw.

They watched in silence, both aware that as the night was done, so will this new moment they found together.

“I'll take you to back to your dorm.” Morgan reluctantly says, unwilling to move. It was Poppy who moved off her first.

Morgan slides off the back of her truck smirking at Poppy. “Want a piggy back ride?”

Poppy scoffs. But positions herself anyway, her arms wrapped on Morgan's shoulders, Morgan's hands holding her legs securely as she closes the small distance to the front of her car.

They drove back in silence, neither speaking of the moment, afraid it will be over soon.

Morgan stops her car in front of Poppy’s sorority house, tapping her fingers anxiously against the steering wheel.  No one talked nor moved for a minute or two, they just stared at each other feeling the change in whatever relationship they previously held. Poppy’s alarm goes off, effectively ruining their moment.

“I guess... I'll see you later. Good Morning, Poppy.” Morgan smiles softly, hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly, knuckles going white, stopping herself from reaching out.

“I’ll… see you later. Thank you for driving me around.” They both know they will see each other but not in the same capacity as tonight, they will be back to being rivals, enemies, whatever the school made them out to be. She could see Poppy fighting a losing battle against herself before she reached out and kissed the corner of Morgan's mouth. She turns away like nothing happened and exits the car without looking back.

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

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Morgan stands and bows to the applause, yet she felt empty. It all felt useless somehow, she wasn't even there to hear the rest of it. She makes her way backstage, turning the corner as the next talent comes up. She felt like running but before she could turn and walk away, Poppy pushes herself off the wall and approached her. She gulped, unsure of what to do.

“Your voice is very beautiful.” Poppy tells her, voice almost as soft as a whisper. She's searching Morgan’s terrified eyes for something. “The song, did you write it?” She asks all the while moving closer, hands fiddling with the lapel of Morgan’s suit.

All she could do is nod, not trusting her voice at the moment. She takes a step back and another and another until her back is against the wall but Poppy follows her every step. Thank god they seemed alone or she would have burst into flames in embarrassment. Poppy steps closer until their bodies are almost touching.

“Who did you write that song for?”

“I...”

“Tell me.” Poppy looks up almost pleading, wanting to hear what she hoped to.

“It’s for you.” Morgan presses herself even more to the wall, wishing it would just swallow her up. She closes her eyes but it flies open when she heard Poppy gasp. “Are you surprised or?” Morgan trails off, observing Poppy’s expression going from astonished, to happy and outright tearing up.

“I can’t believe you wrote that song for me, I thought that there was someone else.” Poppy breathes in relief, Morgan’s hands wrap around her waist, supporting her weight.

“Just you.” Morgan says breathlessly. Watching her break into a smile made all the nerves she had vanish. She pulls her into a tight hug, smiling when she feels Poppy sink into the embrace. Her head leans on her shoulder and she rests her cheek on her hair. Poppy pulls back and smiles before leanig up and kissing Morgan.