#what if it looks bad... i dont have much going for me but i like the length of my hair... :( but i want to try

[adieutristana]

nsfw headcanons; arcane women x fem!reader

still new to writing this kinda stuff yall dont kill me. anyways, here's some general headcanons. again, i'm open for nsfw requests, just please read through the new section in my rules post!

summary; general nsfw headcanons with arcane women and their girlfriend.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, lest

tags; nsfw, fluff, everything is done consensually, some aftercare (full aftercare headcanons here), fingering, cunnilingus, strap-on use, strap-on referred to as dick, degradation, rough sex, nipple play, light bdsm (sevika, lest), anal (sevika, lest), public (mel), jinx being a brat, vibrator use (jinx, caitlyn) gun play (jinx), period sex mention (jinx), usage of words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore,’ sloppy shit, p in v (lest), dacryphilia (jinx, caitlyn), wax play (lest), breeding kink (vi), orgasm denial (mel, caitlyn), thigh riding (sevika, caitlyn), blowjob (lest), shimmer (jinx, lest)

men and minors dni.

jinx;

✧.* the way i interpreted it at least, what jinx received after the fight on the bridge was a sort of shimmer infusion. she's got that stuff running in her veins, and jinx is basically 50% shimmer at this point.

✧.* i bring this up because the amount of shimmer in jinx's system gives her certain.. perks. such as her stamina being that of twenty women combined, how fast and hard she can go. she'd have fun increasing the speed, fucking you harder and harder while you're a writhing mess beneath her and can only think of the pleasure she's giving you.

✧.* even while receiving, jinx can go all night if she wanted to. she won't, because you're not as energetic as she is and she needs to let you rest (as much as she wishes you could go all night). the girl would be so damn overstimulated, but still, she'll demand that you make her cum again, and again, and again. she can keep going; she can take it.

✧.* a tit girl. she doesn’t care how big or small your boobs are, as long as she gets them in her hands and mouth! it’s probably a result of how damn sensitive her own are- jinx will be whimpering mess just from you pinching her nipples a few times.

✧.* she’s a switch, and what position she takes at what given time is just dependent on her mood. jinx is always unpredictable, always keeping you on your toes. she isn’t much different in bed.

✧.* so fucking noisy, and the dirty talk is downright filthy. it's bad enough that at times, you worry your girlfriend might lose her voice. jinx is very unfiltered in general, so you'd expect no less from her in the bedroom. she sees no point in holding back. you're making her feel good, why should she hide that?

✧.* "oh, fuck! ngh, just like that, you're fucking my pussy soooo good," she'd babble, taking every inch of your strap with impressive resolve. her lips are parted, swollen and red from just how hard she'd kissed you. obscene squelching noises filling the room while you pound into her, her legs pressed to either side of her body. "y'hear it? do you? that's me, fuckin' dripping for you. need your dick, ineeditineediti need it-"

✧.* SIZE QUEEN. jinx is a petite girl, shorter and thinner than most. yet she'd insist on you fucking her and stretching her with dildos that looked monstrous next to her. she's a whiny, squealing mess as you ease each inch into her aching pussy, but she always takes it so well. there's nothing quite like the feeling of being pried open to jinx.

✧.* along with that, she's pretty flexible so you can get creative with positions. she'll let you press your knees to either side of her body, not wincing once or growing tired.

✧.* jinx does enjoy a variety of positions- doggystyle, reverse cowgirl, the like, her favorite positions are any where she can see your face. not only does it give jinx a rush to see your flushed, fucked-out expressions, but it also gives her that sense of connection to be able to look at you while you pleasure each other. she's the type to hold eye contact with you the entire time she eats you out, and to bore her gaze into yours in missionary.

✧.* she'd be riding you, arms wrapped around your chest as you piston the strap into her. she's whimpering and squealing louder and louder with each thrust, but her eyes never would leave yours. you're fucking her at an unforgiving pace, plastic tip kissing her cervix, but she still feels so at ease and cared for.

✧.* i feel like jinx would say 'i love you' at least once every time.

✧.* a munch. jinx loves it when you sit on her face, and she's the type to be downright offended if you don't put your full body weight on her. she'd tug you down by your hips before plunging her tongue deep into you without warning, earning sharp cries from you. every time she hears those noises, her ego grows bigger, and damn. you'd allow her that.

✧.* also loves to eat you out from under her workbench. seeing you in her chair, under her desk, in her space, so willingly submissive to her- it's thrilling to her and she can't quite explain it.

✧.* "fuck yes, toots," she'd grumble, pulling back from your wet heat for just a split seconds. "you taste so damn good. so fuckin' sweet and needy f'me."

✧.* a damn brat when she wants to be. she loves to rile you up, it's like a game to jinx. not so amusing for you when you're trying to fill out paperwork and jinx is groaning, taking your pen from your hand and holding it out of your reach while she tells you to just fuck her already.

✧.* "come on! that stuff is so boring, and here i am, soaked for you," she'd pout, her knees parting more beside you on the couch. "you always have to be so responsible, and it's irritating. you could be putting those hands to better use, but noooo."

✧.* or something along the lines of, “i can’t feel anything! are you sure you’re fucking me? come on, do something!”

✧.* not so mouthy when your face is buried in her cunt, that's for sure.

✧.* very into marking. placing her claim on you. almost every time, without fail, you’ve got a new array of hickeys splayed across your neck, chest, hips, and inner thighs. also very into writing on you, with permanent marker. she’d write ‘JINX’ right above your pubic bone, draw little hearts around your nipples, draw an arrow on your inner thigh pointing to your cunt that reads ‘JINX WAZ HERE!’

✧.* a crier, especially when you overstimulate her and when she orgasms. she gets embarrassed every time and tries to explain it away, but it’s just her body’s way of processing all of those sensations. poor girl can’t hold it in :(

✧.* being with jinx, it's gonna be either her tongue, a strap, or a vibrator pleasuring you, unless you can convince jinx to cut her nails. not likely, since she takes pride in their length. sorry :(

✧.* jinx isn’t afraid to get messy. she’ll be rubbing her sticky cunt against yours, having already squirted twice- her lips swollen from your kisses, thighs and lower stomach covered in sweat and cum. but she just can’t stop grinding against you, it feels so damn right.

✧.* along with that, jinx is definitely into period sex. the first time was a whirlwind, with jinx insisting she doesn’t mind and eating you out anyways. if anything, you being on your period makes jinx want to please you more so that you forget about those pesky cramps.

✧.* squirter, and her juices are tinged pink from the shimmer running through her body.

✧.* oh, you already know the prosthetic finger vibrates. she wouldn’t tell you the first time she used it, just say something like, “i’ve got somethin’ special for ya toots! what is it? well, i can’t say just yet! but you’ll love it. i know you will.”

✧.* the way you gasp as soon as you feel the vibrations against your clit and buck your hips into the metal gives jinx all that she needs.

✧.* definitely into gun play as well. seeing your pussy stretch to accommodate the barrel of her gun, the way your eyes widen and you gasp when her finger brushes over the trigger… oh, it’s art. jinx could fully get addicted to it.

vi;

✧.* A MUNCH.

✧.* it probably sounds far-fetched, but vi could cum just from eating you out. from tasting your sweet juices, the scent of your heat, the way your face contorts in pleasure, the trembling of your thighs in her hands, the obscene noises that spill from your lips, how it feels when you cum in her mouth- vi gets lost in it every single time.

✧.* it gets to a point some nights where you’ll almost have to pry vi’s face from between your legs.

✧.* likes to switch and doesn’t have a preference when it comes to top or bottom. i take her as the type who would do both during most sessions to balance things out, she gets some and you get some!

✧.* dirty talk is crazy when she’s domming, but when vi is subbing she can barely string together a coherent thought, especially not a full sentence. she tries to talk to you, tries to let you know how good you’re feeling, but it comes out more as a choppy string of moans and ‘please’s.

✧.* “oh, that feels so- haaaah, please, mm-”

✧.* vi is strong, stronger than most. meaning she can pick you up, fuck you while holding you up against a wall, or she could use that strength to slam your wrists into the mattress above your head while her free hand works at your heat. the possibilities are endless!

✧.* not necessarily loud, but she doesn’t hold back when it comes to noises either. always some form of grunting, groaning, heaving. or whimpering, when she’s on bottom.

✧.* her tits are so sensitive. she’ll try to act like it’s nothing when your hands brush over her hardened nipples, but oh gods when your lips form a seal over one and you start to swirl your tongue around it, vi loses her mind. she’s threading calloused fingers into your hair, trying to push you impossibly closer to her.

✧.* loves giving strap- she likes to receive too, but she’s more partial to giving when it comes to strap-on usage. it just gives her a rush, being on top of you, making you take her. it’s a bit of a power trip for vi.

✧.* “yeah, fucking take my cock- ngh… such a good girl for me, such a good slut.” she’s a panting mess, pounding into you from behind. your asscheeks are sore from the swats she’s given them, and you can feel vi filling you to the brim with every thrust. yet it’s intoxicating.

✧.* vi is just so smitten with you, she’ll do almost anything if you ask nicely. any position, any toys, any kink you want to try out. she’s a lover girl at heart, and aims to please above all else. all you have to do is say the word.

✧.* due to her sweet nature, vi would be so attentive during rougher sex with you. even as she’s tossing you around, coaxing what must be your fourth or fifth orgasm out of you, calling you pathetic and needy, she’d be looking out for you. one second she’s degrading you, the next she’s asking if you’re okay and if you need a break. additionally, she does internally wince when she talks down to you, though she tries to hide it. she knows you know she doesn’t actually think of you like that, but she does hold back because she can’t bear the thought of going too far with it.

✧.*despite liking to be rough from time to time, especially if she knows that you like it and you ask for it, vi also does enjoy slow, sweet lovemaking to keep things balanced. she likes being able to pleasure you, to worship you, show you exactly how much you mean to her through her touch.

✧.* “shh, baby,” she’d whisper, kissing down the valley between your breasts, towards your sternum and stomach. “i’ll make you feel good. so good. just lay your pretty self back and take it. can you do that for me, love?”

✧.* her favorite positions are probably doggystyle and 69. doggystyle gives her room to manipulate your body, a prime angle to pound into you, room to pull your hair and force you to look back at her while you’re coming undone on her dick. 69 is ideal for eating you out, but you both get off, so it’s even better. she’d be trying to stifle moans while her tongue is lapping at your clit, sending vibrations through your core when she can’t hold back anymore.

✧.* one orgasm is never enough when it comes to vi. she wants to give you more, and more, and more. her hand would be soaked and her fingers beginning to prune from just how much you’ve already given her, but she still swears you can give her one more (those words are almost always a lie).

✧.* creamer, and there’s SO much of it. the first time you made her cum you didn’t say anything, but you questioned to yourself whether this is a normal amount. but you quickly grew to love it- seeing vi make such a mess, shaking and whining.

✧.* can somebody say BREEDING KINK. no, it’s not scientifically possible for a woman to get another woman pregnant. but vi will be damned if she doesn’t try.

✧.* pistoning her strap into you while she has you folded into a mating press, grunting and panting with her hands on either side of your head. “gonna fill you up just right,” she’d say, breathless. “please, vi-” “shh. i’ll give it to you, you’ll be such a pretty mama, fuck- take it. take it all.”

✧.* while she enjoys getting her tits played with, i definitely see vi as more of an ass girl when it comes to you. she loves eating you out from behind, slapping your ass during sex, even slapping your ass in public when you’re just trying to pay the poor street vendor. she just can’t get enough of the feeling of plush skin in her hands. the shape, the sensation.

✧.* a head pusher. practically shoves your mouth into her pussy while she’s bucking into your face, groaning and panting while your tongue laps up everything she’ll give you. the proximity does something for her, but she also just… can’t help it. it’s reflex at this point. you hit just the right spot, and her strong hand is flying to the back of your head to push you even further.

✧.* RIDE HER ABS. that’s all i’ll say.

mel;

✧.* such a devoted and sweet lover. also a switch, and she truly doesn’t mind what position she takes at what moment. usually mel lets you decide, she trusts you and the pace you set.

✧.* she’s devoted to your pleasure, but she also won’t deny herself any; not by a long shot.

✧.* however, there are times when she’s had a frustrating day at work. the councilors wouldn’t listen to her, her ideas weren’t getting anywhere, she felt a mental block growing stronger with each passing second. every minute she was in that room was like torture, and all she wanted was to get home.

✧.* so the second she does, she’s asking you to lay down so she can lower her pussy onto your face and lose herself.

✧.* “please, love, make me forget- oh, shit! aah!”

✧.* mel doesn’t really curse much, so a good signifier that she’s feeling good is when you hear her swearing. she’s always so poised, so refined in the way she speaks. careful to converse in a manner becoming of a councilor, of a medarda. so when she’s making those pretty sounds, laid back with three fingers deep inside of her and you hear her swear, you know you’ve got her.

✧.* “right there, hah, mm…” she’d moan, grabbing at one of her breasts to anchor herself. “that feels so- fuck! oh, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

✧.* she’s not necessarily loud either, just the right volume to assure you that she’s feeling good.

✧.* mel’s stamina is pretty average. she knows how to pace herself, so it’s really up to you and how long you want to go for.

✧.* she prefers lovemaking and being doted on in the bedroom rather than rough sex and being denied. that’s not to say she’s opposed to trying out something more hardcore, but generally, she prefers to feel cared for in the moment. touch her, love her, worship her.

✧.* however, when she’s topping, she could deny you for hours. it’s something to do with the power she’s holding over you.

✧.* “mpph, please, just let me come, aaah.. i’ll be so good, mel.” you’d whimper, writhing beneath her touch. “shh. you’ve been so good already, but you can hold out a bit longer, can’t you? that’s my strong girl.”

✧.* partial to body worship. take your time with her, slowly removing her clothing to tell her every little thing you love about her body. her soft skin. the swells of her breasts, her lean muscle and smooth thighs. she’ll be gasping, petting your hair and praising you, letting you know what feels right. every touch from you feels like a promise, and you’ll do damn right to keep it.

✧.* TRIBBING. she especially loves being on top when it comes to scissoring, so that she can set the pace and get both of you off just right. it checks off all of mel’s boxes- proximity, close connection, being able to see your pretty face, and the fact that you both get pleasure from it.

✧.* “oh, gods, love,” she’d grunt, grinding her wet cunt into yours. strings of arousal connecting the two of you, rutting into each other. “don’t stop, unngh- that’s so good, so fucking good.. faster. faster.”

✧.* although she’s refined and poised, mel is not above fucking you in public. you’d be at a gala together, champagne glass in hand and trying to converse with others; some of the most important figures and families in piltover. yet all you can focus on is mel, the way the white dress she chose hugs the curves of her hips just right, and the slit that runs up the side. you try to be subtle, but mel is observant. she notices. and this is one of the few times where she’s a bit more rough.

✧.* “just couldn’t wait?” she’d ask, her fingers pounding into you in an empty room just outside of the crowded hall. “almost struck a deal, a good one, before you started undressing me with your eyes. it’s distracting, love.” “i’m sorry, baby,” you’d whimper, so fucking close to your peak. “sorry isn’t going to cut it. but you’re so pretty… so wet, too. i’ll be merciful.”

✧.* mel likes to set the mood. candles, maybe some soft music crackling over a stereo as well. as i keep saying, she’s a romantic! she wants you to see the effort she’s putting in for you, to know just how much she cares. all of this is worth it to her, you’re worth it.

✧.* just one is rarely enough for mel. if you’re more the one-and-done type, she won’t try to coax more orgasms out of you- but for her, she can go several rounds. back to back to back, coming undone on your fingers and mouth and strap and loving every second.

✧.* always holding onto you somehow. her arms wrapped around your shoulders while she rides you, one arm around your waist to steady you while she fingers you against a wall, the like. however, mel’s favorite is holding your hand, interlacing your fingers together. it just feels so intimate, so loving. it’s also grounding in a way, she can squeeze your hands as the sensations grow stronger, or as a silent support while you teeter over the edge of climax.

✧.* aside from times like i mentioned earlier, mel isn’t really a fan of quickies. there are some exceptions, but she prefers to take it slow within the confines of a place she knows is safe. she wants to take her time to truly appreciate you, and she can’t do that if she’s got a time constraint.

✧.* says she loves you every time, probably multiple times. the intimacy of it all overpowers her. some people may think that saying ‘i love you’ over and over makes it lose meaning, but on the contrary, mel means it more each time she says it.

✧.* “oh, oh, gods… mm, i love you, right there…”

sevika;

✧.* have fun trying to move at all after sleeping with sevika.

✧.* she’s a top-leaning switch. she won’t deny pleasure herself, but she won’t ask for it either. she’s more than happy to just fuck you again and again, her pleasure being derived from the sight of your head thrown back in ecstasy and the sound of your pleasured screams.

✧.* sevika loves just about anything, but she’s partial to the strap. it gives her a rush of power, being able to split you open and fuck you so deep, so right. definitely gets one of the biggest dildos she can find to insert into the strap, just so she can make you lay there and take it.

✧.* rough, experienced, and doesn’t hold back when it comes to degradation. she’d pull her cock almost fully out of you, just leaving the tip- before slamming back in, drawing a borderline pornographic moan from your lips. “fuck, doll, you sound filthy. can’t even talk right now, can you? fuckin’ slut, losing her mind already.” she’d drink in all of your noises, your labored breathing and the way your eyes roll to the back of your head. “gods. i’ve never been with someone this fuckin’ desperate. i almost pity you.”

✧.* can and will manhandle you. she’ll be pushing your chest further into the mattress while fucking you from behind, yanking your hips into hers as she thrusts into you. smacking your ass so hard the sound nearly echoes through the room. she’ll flip you on your back, nearly throwing you down on the bed just to continue her relentless rhythm. she wants to absolutely ruin you. so let her.

✧.* she wants to leave you sore and tired for the next day, so that every time you try to even take a step you’re reminded of exactly what, or who put you into this position.

✧.* sevika’s stamina is admirable. exhaustion weighs heavy on her during the day, her work cut out for her. running around handling zaun, tying up loose ends silco left, and making sure jinx doesn’t get herself into too much trouble wears her out quickly. but somehow she still has so much energy when it comes to fucking you. she could go all night if you allowed her, without so much as yawning.

✧.* she’ll grab your chin to force you to look at her, holding direct eye contact while she fucks you. she wants to see every expression of yours, she wants you to see her face while you cum.

✧.* “who’s makin’ this pussy feel good?” she’d demand, grunting as she grabs a fistful of your hair. you’d yelp at the sensation, your voice breathy and bordering on whiny. “aahh! you! you, mmph- sevika, you’re making it feel so good…”

✧.* also lowkey (highkey) really into anal… being able to please your tight asshole and feel you clench around her fingers as she keeps rutting into your cunt. yeah

✧.* it’s not often that she does, but sevika likes to have you tied up. your wrists tied to the headboard of her bed, the wood creaking while she rocks into you and holds your thighs apart. it’s picturesque almost, you look so damn perfect and pliant. and all for her.

✧.* the ropes are rough and frayed, something similar to what would be used on a ship. it’s not much, and they look like they’ve been used before- they’ll definitely leave marks on your wrists once you’re done. not to worry, sevika already has ointments for once you’re done, and she makes sure to space things like this out. she loves the sight of you bound for her, but not enough to over exert your poor skin.

✧.* she loves hearing those gorgeous sounds you make for her, but sevika does have neighbors and she’s not above shoving your discarded shirt or panties into your mouth if she feels that you’re being too loud. “hush. gonna wake the whole neighborhood at this point, doll. or is that what you want?”

✧.* when she does allow you to top, she’s pretty quiet. a stark contrast to how breathy and gruff she is while pleasing you, but she’ll still make noises! just at a low volume. yet her words do still hold some of that domineering edge.

✧.* your tongue would be delicately splitting her wet folds, teasingly licking up her slit before it brushes right over her clit. a shiver runs up her spine and she groans, a breathy noise that only serves to motivate you more.

✧.* “shit, baby, like that…” she’d breathe out, her chest beginning to heave up and down. “faster, baby. more. like you mean it.”

✧.* creamer, but she’ll squirt if you coax enough orgasms out of her. when you first found this out, she was on the edge of her fifth orgasm, panting and grunting before her walls clenched around your tongue. you then felt a wet warmth splash onto your face, and your gaze flickered. something downright predatory awoke in you, making you desperate to see that again and again.

✧.* “come on, sevi, just gimme one more, mm… that was so fucking hot,” you’d murmur, bringing your face close to her glistening cunt yet again. “another? i think- aah, i’ll break,” sevika breathes out. “good.”

✧.* RIDE HER THIGH. she didn’t even know she was into it at first. you’d be kissing her, panting into her mouth as you strip her of her shirt- before pulling away. “i wanna try something,” you’d say, before lowering yourself onto one of her bulky thighs. beginning to rock your hips, your clothed clit bumping against her thigh while a sharp gasp is pulled from you.

✧.* sevika’s eyes are opened to a whole new realm of possibilities. her hands are flying to your waist to help guide you along on her thigh, feeling your arousal leak through the cotton of your panties. “fuck, dove, you really are a whore.” she says, a low chuckle following. “i wouldn’t have thought of this, but you’re just too damn eager… look at you, soaking me. you’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

✧.* before you know it, sevika is asking you to ride her thigh regularly!

✧.* sevika’s neck is her weak spot. kiss up the expanse of it, suck dark marks into her pulse point, and she’s a damn mess. she’s tilting her head back so you have easier access, melting from you just touching her neck. it’s kind of adorable, honestly.

✧.* switches up the second you’re done- is so sweet and loving during aftercare. making sure that you’re okay and taken care of before she even thinks of doing anything for herself, making sure she didn’t go too far and you’re not too wrecked.

caitlyn;

✧.* switch with a slight preference for topping. she’s been in control most of her life, usually having the upper hand and hardly ever not getting what she wants. she doesn’t expect much less in the bedroom- that, and she loves seeing you fall apart beneath her, knowing that she’s the one responsible.

✧.* caitlyn has long and strong fingers, perfect for reaching all the spots that you’ve never been able to reach yourself. the second her middle finger brushes against that spongy spot that makes your vision blank, her eyebrows shoot up and her mouth is open in a ‘ah, gotcha!’ expression.

✧.* “yeah, darling? you like that? should i keep going, hm?” you’d nod frantically, panting and flushed beneath her. “then keep being good for me. you can do that, can’t you?”

✧.* BRAT TAMER. you might be able to get away with being mouthy with others, but never with cait. she’s a patient woman, but you learn after a while of being with her how to push her buttons just right. wearing that very patience thin with every word and sway of your hips. you’re giggling, until caitlyn is pushing you against a wall and clawing at your clothing, ordering you to spread your legs.

✧.* “i thought this was what you wanted? what you were begging for, not even a minute ago?” she’d grunt, slamming her purple strap into you at an alarming pace. ragged gasps and moans are pulled from your parted lips, and hot tears begin to stream down both of your cheeks. caitlyn would let out a low chuckle, tutting. “what, you’re crying now? come on, it’s not that bad. just a little lesson for you.” she’d coo.

✧.* there’s also been several times when you haven’t been able to behave yourself in her workplace, and she’d whisk you to her office to bend you over the hard wood of her desk, fucking you right then and there.

✧.* part of caitlyn delights at the sight of your tears. it’s exhilarating, in a way. seeing you so desperate, so wanton, knowing it was her who took you apart so expertly. seeing you so bared and vulnerable for her is a moment she wishes she could frame every time.

✧.* caitlyn can be such a temptress. she’s beautiful, anyone can see that- and she uses that beauty to her advantage. you’d come home from a long day of working harder than you ought, to be greeted by your girlfriend in white lace lingerie that leaves very little to the imagination. she knows you can’t resist, and she’s internally celebrating the moment you pounce on her.

✧.* “how was work, love?” she’d ask, voice low and smooth. “you look like you’re starving. maybe i can do something about that?” she’d muse, fingers teasing under one of her thigh garters.

✧.* when subbing, caitlyn is loud. she’s not screaming out in pleasure, but she doesn’t hold back any noises. she wants you to know how good you’re making her feel, to hear it on her lips and in her choppy words.

✧.* likes clitoral stimulation best, i think. don’t get me wrong, she thoroughly enjoys the feeling of penetration- but something about having her pretty clit played with until she’s an aching mess is just better.

✧.* also likes to be praised when she’s on bottom. tell her how beautiful she is, tell her that you’re taking her just right and she sounds so pretty right now. not only does it provide an ego boost, but it makes caitlyn feel so loved.

✧.* she’s a bit embarrassed to admit it, but she likes being on the receiving end of orgasm denial. so fucking close, her body strung thin like a bowstring. each nerve ending nearly on fire. but she can’t cum, not until you give her the green light, and it drives her insane.

✧.* “please, i’m losing my mind,” she’d cry out. “i need- mmf- i need to cum, pleasedarlingillbesogood,”

✧.* not opposed to quickies, but doesn’t opt for them. however, there are occasions where she’ll steal you away just before you have to leave for work, her fingers working as quickly as she possibly can to get you off- giving you something to think about the rest of the day.

✧.* something about your hips draws caitlyn in. maybe it’s the plush skin against them, the way they’re perfect for her nails to dig into, the feeling she gets when they rut against her, the rush she gets from gripping them to guide you as you grind against her thigh, or the way they sway when you walk. she can’t quite pinpoint it, but she also doesn’t care to.

✧.* “fuck, darling, keep moving,” she’d breathe out, gripping the tops of your hips as your wetness spreads over her thigh- folds glistening, head tilted back as lewd moans fill the room. “you look beautiful like this. so damn perfect, like you’re made for my viewing…”

✧.* she enjoys pet names a lot, but i think one of caitlyn’s weaknesses would be just addressing her by her name. especially if you usually call her by pet names outside of the bedroom. it feels so intimate, so personal.

✧.* “such a good girl for me, caitlyn,” you’d whisper, holding a bullet vibrator to her wet clit. “look at this pussy, so desperate for me. i can’t get enough.”

✧.* her favorite places to have sex are her bed and her desk. simple, but they work- her bed is a sanctuary, and it’s comfortable. optimal. her work desk serves many purposes, but her favorite is pleasuring each other.

✧.* caitlyn’s eyes are hypnotic, her gaze piercing. she’s big on eye contact during sex, demanding that you look at her the entire time. even as you’re fighting to not let your eyes snap shut or roll to the back of your head, the commanding tone in her voice keeps you grounded. it’s an ego boost, but it’s also a way of connecting to you.

✧.* gets rough when she’s especially stressed, which is often. she’s an enforcer and one of piltover’s most powerful figures; caitlyn is basically a walking manifestation of stress. slapping your tits, grabbing your chin, degrading you, shoving her fingers into your mouth and down your throat to shut you up.

✧.* that’s not to say that she doesn’t enjoy gentle love making from time to time- she absolutely does. she loves those nights where you take your time with her, truly conceptualize your affections for her. just how much you love her. she just gets carried away in the moment more than she’d like to admit.

lest;

✧.* switch with a preference for subbing. she will dom you if you ask her to, but most of the time, lest likes to lay back and bask in the feeling of you touching her. the scent of incense thick in the air, hair freed from her scarf and fanned around her as she lets out soft moans.

✧.* her voice is so smooth, so calming. the kind of voice you could fall asleep to. lest isn’t necessarily loud during sex, but she gets pretty vocal. and her noises, her words sound almost heaven sent.

✧.* “oh, keep doing- aahh!- that, darling…” she’d breathe out, her tone soft and buttery with desperation. “i need it, i’m so close-”

✧.* lest is definitely experienced, so she knows well and good what gets her going. she’ll tell you as well, guiding your hands to exactly where she needs them and describing in vulgar detail what she wants you to do to her.

✧.* “play with my tits with one hand, stroke me with the other,” she’d breathe out, placing your hands over both her perky breast and twitching cock. “pinch my nipple, hard, run your thumb over the tip- oh, fuuuuck…”

✧.* the tip of her dick is easily the most sensitive part of her body. it’s so sensitive, it’s almost comical- but lest can’t help it. you know how to pleasure her exactly the way she needs. as soon as you take it into your mouth, teasing your tongue over the head before taking her full length, she’s already fighting the urge to buck into your mouth. it draws sharp gasps from her throat, her fingers gripping at the bedsheets.

✧.* but her tits aren’t meant to be neglected, either. plump and soft, sitting so pretty on her. her nipples are definitely pierced, usually adorning gold bars with dangling chains. play with them, suck on them, place clamps on them. she’ll eat all of it up, praising you all the while.

✧.* definitely enjoys being tied up during the act, and she’d likely want to try shibari at some point. she has the nice ropes: purple woven silk, soft against her wrists and ankles. the feeling of being bared open before you, completely powerless and at your mercy can’t compare to anything else.

✧.* i think lest is really into wax play, but can’t participate as much as she’d like to because wax is a pain in the ass to get out of fur. she’ll gasp at the feeling of hot, sticky wax on her tits and stomach, a shiver running through her body involuntarily. you like to indulge her from time to time, relishing in her every reaction. again, it just can’t be as often as you’d both like because of the aftermath :(

✧.* lest can’t exactly finger you since she uh… has claws. but she’s so skillful with her mouth, the thought of what you might be missing doesn’t even cross your mind. she’d take your clit between her lips, teasing over the bud with her tongue before sucking. brushing her silky hair over her shoulder and angling her jaw so she has even more access to you, drinking in every sound you make.

✧.* “you taste amazing, darling,” she’d murmur. “stay still, mm.. you want to cum, don’t you?”

✧.* lest could grow addicted to just eating you out. the feeling of your release on her tongue is a high she never wants to come down from. she’ll draw orgasm after orgasm after orgasm from you on just her tongue.

✧.* praise her!! tell lest how good she’s doing, how beautiful she looks between your thighs and how lucky you are to have her. it only makes her more eager to please you.

✧.* “gods, you’re beautiful,” you’d whisper, “that feels amazing, you’re amazing, you’re perfect-” before feeling her tongue slip from your clit to your wet hole, prying you open.

✧.* LOVES to be pegged. she’s also partial to cowgirl, but lests’s absolute favorite is doggystyle. she craves the sensation of you slamming into her hole, gripping her plump asscheek with one hand and yanking on her tail with the other. she’d let out a sharp yowl, her chest almost collapsing into the mattress at the feeling. but it feels so fucking good, even though it’s sending pain up her spine.

✧.* “oh, yes, yesyesyes,” she’d babble, so bravely taking every inch of your strap. “don’t stop, go harder- fuck, ow!” she gasps, her soft tail in your grasp as you pull. “sorry,” you’d wince, slightly loosening your grip. “no. keep holding it, it- aahh! feels damn good.”

✧.* she cums pretty quickly when you strap her down. she’s a bit embarrassed about it, but she just can’t help it. your strap rubs against her g-spot so perfectly, your rhythm is exactly what she needs and you fill her up just right.

✧.* alternatively, lest loves when you ride her. seeing your face while you’re on top of her, claws digging into your hips while she bounces you up and down on her length… oh, it’s gold. and the sight of your tits bouncing is always a welcome bonus.

✧.* sometimes lest will have her pipe with her while you ride her, in which case she’ll allow you to shotgun hits. your breaths mingling with one another and lips almost touching as magenta smoke is passed between the two of you. it only serves to further heighten your senses, bringing you even greater pleasure.

✧.* “you’re divine,” she’d breathe out, hips rocking into you with fervor. “take it. take everything, just like i know you can. you’re a damn work of art.”

[guzmawife]

🍓: he had no job when i met him but now he works at a high school as an errand boy / security (his children attend said school). hes the guy they call in when a real teacher needs to use the bathroom so he can watch the class. or to retrieve some papers from the printer. go get me that thing boy.

🍒: probably just chilling at home with snacks and movies and fast food. or chillen at the beach. 🏝️

🍎: tapu cocoa.. we all know dis.. hot sweet drinks…

🍉: hes not religious other than believing that a higher power exists. hi arceus..

🍑: totally more comfortable giving gifts. hes used to taking care of others so it’s pretty natural for him to be giving. he has no issue receiving but its not rlly a priority since he didnt come from much so hes used to not rlly asking for much.

🍊: i make him peel it. he knows my paws and claws have to stay clean… he’s comfortable with getting dirty and i am not!

🥭: no i domt think so. his dad was a prick and said shit like. Youre not a woman so you dont need those. fuckkkk that guy.

🍍: probably him being mentally manipulated and abused! 😿 killing all the people that taught him he wasn’t anything and made him feel like he had to act out in order to prove himself to others. hhhggffg. he deserves to be loved.

🍌: he likes to be in the dark. das it. no specific reason why.

🍋: he would probably change his hothead nature bc he doesn’t like how quickly he gets upset and makes bad decisions. and his hairline.

🍋‍🟩: he tells people if you squish bugs more will keep showing up. as a joke. heehe. sorry im gonna squish them still im a pussy.. thats probably why they keep showing up though. i have an actual curse. maybe he’s right man…

🍈: he thinks fate is bogus and if you want something to happen you have to make it happen.

🍏: hes bisexual and questioning demisexuality, he learned of his bisexuality through being in denial of liking the same sex and being like. This is ruining my tough guy personality. This can’t be. but then it kept happening and he was like man fuck this whatever. what the hell sure. he became normal. he’s still figuring out the demisexuality, to put it simply he just doesnt want to engage in sexual acts with anyone unless he has a genuine connection to them. it also just feels better for him. sorry for airing out your business Anywayyyyyy. Anyway.

🍐: he’s a nail biter its kinda gross sorry man. his nails are short always so i make him do short nail tasks since my nails are usually pretty long. i think he bounces his legs sometimes too. he knows i hate that shit thou so he tries not to. usually i just leave so he can shake all he wants. then hes like what wait no….

🥝: he would totally let me do his makeup. we’re both pretty lazy when it comes to makeup so we don’t so anything complex. i just do mascara and corner highlights and SOMETIMES lipstick and that’s it. #autistic i cant stand having too much shit ok my face. this isn’t even about me brah. he does simple makeup too since he’s just not super experienced. he just tries things sometimes but he’s not a professional. he just wants to look cool.

🫒: he’s a big hugger he squeezes too tight but it feels good though…. (´ ω `♡) he likes to be hugged too! yey!

🫐: definitely more of an artist he actually keeps a sketchbook. right brained yeah.

🍇: if we never met i think he might still be getting himself into some trouble tbh. he’s pretty stubborn.

🥥: he draws he plays games. he works out. he cooks. i think he would want to get into gardening but his location doesn’t allow for it since it’s always fucking raining.

🍅: i think he would get me testosterone or something that i can’t possibly get safely right now. or like. my own living space. or some rare pokemon card / plush that costs more than an organ online. sigh. or probably 1 billion dollars. muhehw.

🌶️: he drinks ginger ale. ginger ale the ultra cure.

🫚: hes not picky. he cant eat beans bc hes allergic to them. but i dont think hes picky since he has to make sure his kids eat first. so he eats whatevers left from them. leftover amalgamation.

🥕: he didnt like them but he ate them anyway bc his parents were mean :(

🧅: he cries when hes angry like super fuming. and when hes thinking about his past. hes just mad at himself for what happened and how he handled things. Basically. getting manipulated and taken advantage of makes him upset and he cries. he doesnt cry at movies unless he relates to them.

🌽: does bugs counts as animal. He likes dogs. and isopods. and other sea creatures.

🥦: pet peeves are getting called ‘boy’ or ‘kid’. i used to call him boy all the time just by habit and he would Not like that. “I’m not a boy. I’m a man. stop callin me dat…” okaaayyy whatevar. he doesnt have an issue with me calling him dude tho. despite being his lover. which is a little funny. um what else. people not knocking before entering. leaving empty cartons and stuff in the fridge or cabinet. ppl telling him he looks tired. or people calling him old. not that he has an issue with old people (😽) but its like. How did you even reach that conclusion.

🥒: hes afraid of ultra beasts a little.. specifically uh whats its name. nihilego. that bird that i hate. middle finger emoji. hes like. a little more hesitant with UBs than regular mons. he’s also got a fear of getting lost.

🥬: beige flags auumm i hate his ugly fucking sunglasses. and when he says. ya boy (pinches the space between my brows). peeing with the door open. he does that thing where u can feel him looking at you waiting to turn around during the movie so he can kiss you. theres probably more. im very good at complaining.

🫛: he loves to think of new pet names for me to see how i will react. he’d be like. “goodnight honeypie” and id be like “oh…. yeah… 😽” he also likes them too but most of the time i just call him musham or guzma bc i like saying his name. then he’s like. Why dont you call me anything else…. (sad puppy eyes). he likes when i call him mumu or honey. i calll him princess sometimes but its rare. princess is like his top pet name for me. meeooww. sometimes i call him Boss. thats For when. Im teasing Him. That one Makes his Ears turn Red. For special Occasions. meow.

🫑: he’s had a number of near death experiences so he’s pretty afraid of death. he has no lofty life goals. he just wants his family safe. wants to travel too and have good genuine relationships.

🥑: not super niche but cosmetics and nail art. he also likes cooking and insects and drawing. just things he grew to like from being around his family. or trying to distract himself from his own issues.

🍠: he likes to go to the beach and sit listening to the waves (same). he also likes to paint his or others nails when he’s bored. “gimme yer hands i wanna try sumn”. yknow.

🍆: favorite scent is meeeeeee… i kid i kid. probably like. Ugh. baked goods. Sugar smell. Rain smell 👎🏾 i hate rain smell but he likes it. i don’t think he has any specific least favorite smells other than the usual like peepee and caca yknow.

🧄: allergic to beans

🥔: he makes japanese curry a lot. easy to make in large portions for his 75million children. i like rice so he usually makes rice dishes for me. i don’t cook very often but when i do its cultural foods since he doesn’t know those recipes. he likes those. yom. he wants to learn baking but just hasn’t had the chance or motivation.

🍄‍🟫: i think he would wanna be a mewtwo or something. super strong and cool nonchalant. if we’re talking irl mytho creatures, cerberus. that guy cool as shit. #swagger.

this took me three whole days to answer. enjoyable experience rlly made me think. sorry for any typos i used swipe typing for parts of this 😿.

@sylvie-wants-your-dogs hi : )

the ULTIMATE f/o infodumping ask game!

(this is gonna be a long one...)

🍓 - disregarding the career your f/o currently has, what other career would they consider going into, if given the chance?

🍒 - if your f/o and you spend a day doing anything, anything at all, what would they do and why?

🍎 - what's your f/o's favorite drink? any drink, alcoholic or non alcoholic!

🍉 - is your f/o religious? what's their opinion on religion or spirituality?

🍑 - is your f/o more comfortable giving or receiving gifts? why? do they have any preferences on gifts they like receiving?

🍊 - if you asked your f/o to peel an orange for you, what would they do?

🥭 - did your f/o have stuffed animals growing up? do they still have stuffed animals? do they have a favorite?

🍍 - if you could change any one thing about your f/os backstory/character, what would you change? why?

🍌 - does your f/o have a vendetta against The Big Light™? what kind of lighting do they prefer?

🍋 - if your f/o could change one thing about themselves, what would they change and why?

🍋‍🟩 - is your f/o superstitious? is there any habits they follow or quirks they have to follow said superstitions? like not opening umbrellas indoors to avoid back luck?

🍈 - does your f/o believe in fate? do they thing everything is preplanned out by the universe or a higher power, or do they think that the idea of fate is bogus? why?

🍏 - if you have any queer headcanons for your f/o, how did they realize they were queer?

🍐 - does your f/o have any nervous ticks or idle quirks they do? like mindlessly tapping on a desk or fiddling with their hair when they're stressed?

🥝 - would your f/o ever let you do their make-up? what does their make-up process look like? is it simple? complex?

🫒 - what kind of hugger is your f/o? do they give good hugs? do they like hugs? do they like receiving hugs?

🫐 - is your f/o more of a writer or an artist? would you say your f/o is more left or right brained?

🍇 - if you and your f/o never met, what do you think your f/o would be doing right now?

🥥 - what hobbies does your f/o have? is there any hobby they would like to get into that they haven't tried out yet? what is it?

🍅 - if your f/o could buy you any gift in the world, whether it exists or not, what would they buy you? or, if they could make you something, what would it be?

🌶️ - does your f/o have any remedies they follow when they get sick? like taking a shot of whiskey to get rid of a fever?

🫚 - is your f/o a picky eater? is there any foods they will not under any circumstances, gun to their head, eat?

🥕 - when your f/o was little, did they dislike vegetables? do they still dislike them?

🧅 - what makes your f/o cry? do they get emotional at sad movies or books? do they only get emotional under very rare circumstances?

🌽 - does your f/o have a favorite animal? what is it? are they scared of any animals?

🥦 - does your f/o have any pet peeves? things that just really really get on their nerves? what are they and why?

🥒 - what's your f/o afraid of? do they have any phobias? anything minor they're scared of?

🥬 - what are some beige flags your f/o has? so, not bad, but not nessecarily good either. just. "oh. you do This."

🫛 - how does your f/o feel about pet names or nicknames? do they like them? hate them? what are their favorites and least favorites to be called and to use?

�� - how does your f/o feel about death? are they afraid of it? is there anything specific they'd like to do before they die?

🥑 - is there any niche topics your f/o is interested in? what are they and why do they like them?

🍠 - what are a few of your f/os favorite pastimes or things that they do when they're bored?

🍆 - does your f/o have a favorite scent? why is it their favorite? do they have a least favorite scent?

🧄 - does your f/o have any allergies? food or otherwise?

🥔 - does your f/o have any food dishes they make often? is there any foods you make for your f/o that they enjoy?

🍄‍🟫 - if your f/o could be any mythological species, what would they be? if your f/o is already a mythological species, would they ever want to be human?

I recommend practicing reblog karma ! people love infodumping about their f/os :) I also recommend sending more than one emoji at a time,,, there are Many here...!!!

[purple-paige-purple]

my main pazzi evidence!

hey guys, people have been asking me to give me reasoning as to why i think pazzi is real so here ya go. there is A LOT more i could say and a ton more evidence but imma try to piece my basic thoughts together explain as much as i can consicely.

1. their general vibe

ok lemme say first of all, the thing that pisses me off most about pazzi deniers is that they dont acknowledge hard evidence. like hand placement, eye contact, the "is it spit" video, etc. but the thing that's the absolute kicker to me is their entire vibe around each other.

i think the animal letter/pillow video is a really good example of this. start by imagining how you would play that game with your friends, even your closest friends of ten years. would you giggle at them and smile at them the way that p + a look at/talk to each other? probably not. (and if you do, babes im gonna hold your hand when i tell you this...) the entire video was just not something you'd expect from friends AT ALL.

also. the way paige's ENTIRE demeanor changes near azzi. duuuuude its so adorable. any time she's talking to azzi, and even sometimes when azzi is within earshot, paige's voice softens SUBSTANTIALLY and she becomes more thoughtful and calm. an example of this would be kk's (second) crumbl live in the bedroom, when azzi walks in and all of a sudden paige is now giggling quietly as opposed to cracking up loudly like she was before. i think its the whole "calming presence" idea and p + a really both are each other's anchor.

also u don't go on a cruise with your best friend and act the way they acted (and posted).

2. the hard evidence

the aforementioned "is it spit" video. like bro. no matter what the fuck azzi said, what paige responded was extremely suggestive, and azzi's reaction to it just proves that. paige we know that ur faggot ass's favorite tongue movement to lets just take a chill pill on live tv (jk pls dont stop keep feeding our delulu pazzi shipper asses)

another piece of hard evidence: "happy birthday to the precious princess 💗" OK PAIGE WE KNOW SHES UR WIFE. paige wanted to say "my precious princess" so bad its so obvious

paige and azzi also have not shut down ANY rumors or even spoken on the subject of their suspected relationship. instead, i would go so far as to say they've fed into it, the posts about each other, the continuous posting of the "💗" emoji even though the entire internet has a suspicion about what it means. this also ties into the fact that they do have social media, paige is active a lot, their teammates are active, and they definitely (no matter how) seeing these pazzi edits. they are OUT THERE and even the announcers know it.

ice and kk's faces whenever p + a are flirting got me ctfu every time. ice does not try to hide it AT ALL and even though i think kk tries, once in a while she makes a face (the interview where she is in the middle of them)

3. no other relationships/their dynamic

lets be generous to the deniers and say that they've only had smth (a relationship, whether it be serious or not) since 2021. they have not been with anyone since. i will say it again. they have not been with anyone since. with their popularity and how gorgeous/attractive they both are, i feel like if they were seen close with anyone, we would know about it. fine, someone could say they are just both locking in to school and bball, but i really just think p + a work so well together and basically have the same schedule so there is pretty much no negatives to them being together, therefore no reason why it would take away from school/bball. i think they are each other's person and really just compliment each other so well (opposites attract!)

basically the way they act is not how "just friends" act. i dont make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️

ok so thats my basic thoughts. i could LITERALLY go on for pages (and i will if you guys want!) just let me know (send me an ask or smth) and ill make more posts with more evidence and just basically debriefing it. ok thank u girlypops for listening to my ted talk

ps. thank you to @elliesglock for debriefing some of the uconn lives, pls continue bc they are so fun to read and u have such good thoughts on everything!

[frillydolle]

hiiii !!! so i dont know if it was u who wrote an arthur x reader fic where reader wears their fathers glasses to read? im pretty sure it wasnt, but i thought of it as a good idea. so, what im asking is, would u be comfortable writing something with reader wearing glasses but instead of not seeing things near they don't see things far away. so they're going through life blurry and arthur notices because they keep bumping into things bc they have no sense of depth without their glasses. offers to make them an appointment for eye doctor and helps them choose the glasses and everything ? thought it would be cute (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

arthur morgan x blind female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ wearing my glasses right now as i write this :)

“sweetheart, 'm right here— no, 'm here—... y'alrigh'?”

“... i think so.”

that was probably the fourth time u have walked into something? no one else wasn't really sure why, but only because u didn't tell anyone. it was like a secret of urs that u have kept for a long while.

arthur was really the only man who knew u struggled with ur eyesight for as long as u can remember. shooting was a huge problem that u avoid as much as u could despite living in an outlaw gang, arthur would do best his best to help u, but it never went well. u couldn't even hit a bottle!

shooting was definitely not in ur skills. no matter the number of times that arthur willing helps u shoot a gun or help u aim better, nothing worked. u always still managed to shoot a tree or shoot at.. basically nothing, u always missed the three empty bottles he placed for u to gun at.

“mr morgan, i can't— i can't see that bottle, 's too far.”

“want me to bring it closer?”

of course he did. undeniably, he's always had a soft spot for you, but it's not like he'd admit anyone else in camp or you, especially. he treated u like a fragile girl, which u weren't too far from. having bad eyesight did make u feel more vulnerable and fragile, and arthur knew this. makes him just a little protective with you as he's often seen with his fingers intertwined with urs or his arm rests around ur waist. it gave yoy sense of safety and.. comfort.

sometimes the silly man might forget just how blind you really are:( he'd never mean to! he'd just be so so focused on something and he'd bring you with him and it just slips his mind simply!

“arthur, wait—!” you'd say as u try to catch up to his pace, ur hands slightly out just in case u fall. “oh, 'm sorry, sweetheart. 'm right 'ere.”

but now, he decided to help you, proper this time. the two of u are on his horse whike trotting away, your hands around his torso tightly incase you fall or anything like such. you had no idea where he was taking you though, his words being “'s a secret, but nothin' too big, y'know?” nonetheless, you were just glad that he out if camp, noticing how stressed he would be until his blue-green eyes would set on you:(

“... saint denis? what do you have planned, arthur?” you say with a small giggle, looking at him while he's looking straight onto the road in front of him. “jus' a nice day out. you 'n' me.” he replied. huh. a nice day out. just a day out. but days were him were never often that simple, usually ended with someone recognising from blackwater or another robbery, or you talking him out of beating a man for making you uncomfortable. you thanked him regardless, making sure you're safe and well.

then he hitches off his hourse, you follow suit...the doctor's office? what was he doing here? i mean, he's fine, right? you're fine too except your eyesight, of course. wait, was he—

“c'mon, darlin'. yer fine, i promise ya.” he says as he sticks his arm to you, waiting for you to hold his arm before walking into the building. he knew you were slightly anxious about it, but he was willing to help you in any way he could.

a man like him... blood on his hands, lives taken because of him, rough and callous from hard work, a man like him with all bite and bark like a violent dog. that man bring a sweet girl like you to the doctor's office to get you sorted out with a new pair of glasses. ♡

[maplegyu]

Went into this with no expectations! I just saw the tropes and summary and was like ooohhh i love all of these! I ended up rly loving the story and enjoying my read!!!

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go.

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking.

Loved loved loved how this was written!!! I could really feel how reader was clinging onto the alcohol like a lifeline! The more it felt like Mingyu would be slipping through her fingers the harder she tried to be grounded by something else!

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.

I GET U READER I WOULD BE TOO He's such a gentleman and he's sooo in tune with her feelings WHO WOULDNT FALL IN LOVE W KIM MINGYU

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.

GOD I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW MUCH THIS HURTS its like ur breaking ur own heart bc the feeling is like!! WHAT RIGHT DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY???!! i get u reader i rly get uuuu BUT UR FEELINGS ARE REAL AND VALID 😭 the hoping and yearning wow wow wow

I loved the imagery of the writing so much!!! Especially the scene outside the restaurant!!! Felt so immersed in the story and in very few scenes was already familiar with how close reader and Mingyu are and their feelings for each other.

BUT THE MORNING AFTER SCENE OH MY GOD???!?! CHEEKY MINGYU AAAAHHHHHHHHH

ON GOD!!! I AM NOT OVER THE IMAGE OF JUST WOKEN UP MINGYU, RASPY VOICE, REACHING OUT FOR READER... SMIRKING!!!!!! who wouldnt want to wake up next to this man for the rest of their lives?!

"Oh, this is fun," - im sorry. I WANT HIM SO BAD. Mingyu being a tease and being cheeky... I LOVE THIS KIND OF MINGYU GENUINELY LIKE SOME OF MY FAVORITE MINGYU TO READ!!!!!

YES HE DID BECAUSE PERHAPS!!!! HE IS IN LOVE WITH U ALSO DEAR READER?! 💘

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

MY KNEES TURNED TO JELLY FR!!!! when he is chivalrous and a gentleman but also hot as fuck 🤩

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.

IMAGINING THIS MINGYU

AND I DONT BLAME READER FOR HAVING A HARD TIME W HER FEELINGS FOR HIM

THE WAY THIS WHOLE SCENE EXCITED ME BECAUSE IT CONFIRMS THAT MINGYU DOES ACTUALLY FEEL FEELINGS FOR READER TOO!!!! ITS NOT ONE-SIDED AAAAHHHHH ✨️

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

#MAPLEGYU SCREAMS!!!!!!!!! this is everything. officially down bad. on his way to becoming a certified loverboy!!!!!!

The whole back and forth about stealing and wearing Mingyu's clothes...... THE OBVIOUS FLIRTING PLEASE I WAS RLY EATING IT UP!!!! dont u two realize ur so into each other aaahhhhhh! And then tbh at this point i thought the story (or part 1) would be over but there was more!!!!

Mingyu was still there and reader was wearing his clothes. Excuse me a whole day of domesticity with your favorite person????

The way user taesjpq painted the picture of how their night was going sent me to space actually because ITS THE LITTLE THINGS!!!! together ordinary things feel extraordinary 😭 and im sure thats what reader felt w gyu!!!! And please they never stopped flirting! Him telling her he looks good in his clothes!!?? MY BABY GIRL LET YOUR MIND GO THERE!!!! THINK ABT GYU BEING PART OF UR DAILY LIFE!!!! BELIEVE HE LIKES U BACK COS HE DOES!!!!!

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

THIS MADE ME INSANE I LEGIT WASNT BREATHING

SO IMAGINE MY EXCITEMENT WHEN HE TRIED TO GO IN FOR A KISS!!!!!!! The build-up??!?! The uncertaintainty but also wanting it so bad??!?! CROSS IT CROSS THE LINE!!!! God im rooting for them i am suchhhh a sucker for bff's to lovers!!!!!!!

Thank you for writing this i really reaaally enjoyed it!!! I cant wait for the next part!!!! 💖

Jealousy part. I

genre — suggestive fluff, best friends to lovers, smut (maybe in part II) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀���⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ pairing — female!reader x best friend!Mingyu summary — You, Hoshi, Wonwoo, and Mingyu—inseparable. Their apartment feels like your second home. But one of them makes your heart race in ways you wish it wouldn’t. He treats you like you’re special—attentive, caring, almost like a boyfriend. But he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. He treats you this way—this is just how Mingyu is, right? word count — 4,3k (part l)

Warnings and notes under the line.

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, jealousy/insecurity, unrequited/complicated feelings, emotional distress, avoidance/coping mechanisms, mild possessiveness (towards him), possible hangover, waking up next to someone, suggestive elements/mild sexual tension, light kiss [let me know if I forgot something]

notes: san (ateez) cameo (you will better understand in part II) Hoshi, Wonwoo cameo. This is my first published ff ever, I hope you like it. I‘m actually very nervous about it, so feel free to give your opinion. I just wrote this, when I felt down bad for Mingyu again (he‘s so boyfriend istg). The question is, when i am not exactly down bad for Mingyu? He‘s the standard.

"Any plans for the weekend?"  

San held the office door open for you, his gentle smile as familiar as ever.  

You sighed quietly, relieved that the exhausting workweek was finally over. It had been chaos—half the staff out sick, leaving you drowning in double the workload.  

San had been your lifesaver, stepping in every time you thought you might break under the pressure.  

"Actually, I'm meeting my friends at a restaurant," you replied, noticing the faint flicker of something wistful in his eyes.  

"Why am I not surprised?" he teased, his grin widening as you stepped through the door.  

San had a way of always asking about your plans, like he was hoping, just once, your answer might include him. But it never did. Just: „My friends, my friends, my friends.“ 

It wasn’t a lie, though. You practically lived at their apartment. Gaming nights with Wonwoo, gym sessions with Mingyu, and endless meals with Hoshi—that was your rhythm, your second home.  

"Thanks for the coffee, San. Next time, it’s on me," you said, flashing him a grateful smile.  

"Anytime," he replied, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you parted ways.

 

You arrived flustered, breathless from rushing. Of course, they were already here. 

As you pushed open the door, the warm buzz of conversation and clinking plates enveloped you.  

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, locking on them almost immediately: your boys—and a girl. A girl? 

She was sitting beside Mingyu, close enough that their arms nearly brushed. Her laugh carried across the table, light and unrestrained, and something about it made your stomach twist. Who was she?  

"Finally!" Hoshi greeted you as you approached, his voice brimming with playful exasperation. "We thought you’d ditched us."  

You forced a smile, settling into the usual chaos of their teasing welcome. 

"This is Hana," Wonwoo explained casually when he caught the question in your eyes.  

"And? don’t you think she looks just like me?" Hoshi added, grinning as he gestured dramatically toward her.  

You studied her more closely, and the resemblance hit you. It was uncanny—her smile, her energy. She could’ve been his twin. 

"I’ve been crashing at their place for a few days," Hana said, extending her hand toward you. "Hoshi insisted."  

Your polite smile barely reached your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone told you?  

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking her hand and glancing around. There wasn’t an empty chair for you.  

Mingyu noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbing one from a nearby table and setting it beside him.  

"Thanks, Gyu," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.  

He nodded and gave you a gentle smile. 

Oh, how you’d missed him. His warmth, his silly jokes—the way his laughter could dissolve the stress of your week. You’d been looking forward to this, to catching up with him. But now, it seemed difficult.  

As the group settled into conversation, you tried to focus, tried to join in. But your attention kept drifting—to Hana, to how close she sat to Mingyu, to the way she leaned into him when she laughed. Her fingers grazed his arm casually, like she belonged there.  

"So, Hana, how do you like the city so far?" Wonwoo asked, drawing her attention.  

"It’s great," she said brightly. "Hoshi’s been showing me around—it’s been so much fun."  

Her hand lingered on Mingyu’s shoulder as she spoke, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably.  

Just then, the waiter arrived, placing drinks on the table. Four sojus. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise—they’d ordered before you arrived. That wasn’t how things worked. You always waited. It was a small tradition, but it mattered. Or, at least, it used to.  

"One soju for me too, please," you said quickly, catching the waiter before he walked away.  

But the unease didn’t leave. Hana’s touchiness continued—her laugh too loud, her attention on Mingyu too focused. He didn’t seem to mind, even smiled at her a few times. Yet, every so often, his eyes flicked to you, as if checking for something. 

You didn’t know why, but every time Hana’s hand brushed against his arm, you reached for your bottle. Every time she giggled a little too sweetly, your glass met your lips. The warm burn sliding down your throat was easier to deal with than the twist in your chest. 

"You should see these two at the gym," Hoshi chimed in suddenly, pointing between you and Mingyu. "They’re like workout aliens or something." 

The group laughed, and you managed a small smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. 

Hana giggled, leaning closer to Mingyu. "Maybe you can show me some moves sometime," she said, her tone playful. 

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.  

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go. 

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lie, the words tumbling out too quickly, barely convincing even to yourself. 

You needed space—air that wasn’t thick with your confusion, your frustration. If you stayed another second, your face would betray you, exposing the childish jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.  

The cool evening air hit you like a lifeline as you stepped outside, goosebumps forming on your arms from the crisp breeze. 

You closed your eyes briefly, letting it kiss your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. The dull, relentless throb of longing refused to fade.  

“This isn’t the bathroom.”  

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  

You glanced back anyway, already masking your shock with a strained smile. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “This looks like a bathroom to me.”  

He chuckled, that low, warm laugh that always did things to your chest, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And despite yourself, you smiled too, because how could you not? 

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.  

Without a word, he steps closer, draping your jacket over your shoulders. “You’re probably freezing,” he says, his voice gentle, but with a tenderness that makes your stomach tighten.  

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he adjusts the jacket, and it sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but from the barely-there touch. 

You look up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet his. His gaze softens, a flicker of concern crossing his face.  

The silence that followed stretched taut between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed willing to break it. The faint hum of traffic and the muffled buzz of laughter from the bar filled the empty space.  

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Don’t say it. Don’t bring her up. Just let it go. But the question clawed its way out of you anyway.  

“I didn’t know Hana was staying at your place,” you blurted, the words sharper than you intended, laced with something raw and exposed.  

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “Yeah, I didn’t know either. Trust me.”  

You raise an eyebrow, still unsure. “Hoshi didn’t mention it?” 

“He forgot,” Mingyu mutters, shaking his head. What a Hoshi thing to happen, you thought.  

“I walked into my room, and she was already asleep in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, so I took the couch for the week.”  

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his explanation sitting heavy. Of course, he wouldn’t complain. He’s Mingyu—always generous, always selfless. Always giving more of himself than he should.  

“Oh,” you managed, your voice too light, too fake. “It’s just funny to think… if I showed up at your place, I’d find her instead of you.” You tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow, even to your ears.  

He shrugged, casual and unaffected. “It wasn’t a big deal for me. I worked overtime all week, so I wasn’t home much anyway.”  

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.  

You felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly. Not here. Not now.  

The night had been shallow and hollow, a void you couldn’t seem to escape. All you’d wanted was a quiet evening with your friends, especially Mingyu. Just sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder—feeling the solid warmth of him—would’ve been enough.  

But instead, you’d spent the evening watching Hana, her laughter, her touches, her presence invading spaces you’d always considered yours. Even if you don't have the right to do so. 

The ache in your chest sharpened, spreading through you like wildfire. You couldn’t stay here any longer.  

“I’m gonna head home,” you said, your voice flat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I need some rest after this week.”  

You felt his gaze land on you, heavy and searching, and for a moment, you wavered under its weight.  

“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.  

“No, it’s okay,” you replied quickly, trying to steady your tone. “I have my car.”  

“I know,” he says, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes scan your face, tracing every inch of you, as if reading you in ways that make your heart race. “But you shouldn’t drive. You drank too much.” 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not drunk.” 

 And then, he speaks again, voice softer, more tender. 

“Your cheeks,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing against your flushed skin. “They’re red. That happens when you drink too much.” 

You freeze, his touch lingering. Your heart pounds in your chest, and his proximity feels like a punch to your gut. He looks even more handsome than usual—his messy hair falling over his forehead, the soft fabric of his shirt still loose and unbuttoned just enough to make your breath catch. The way he stands there, effortlessly composed, but so close that you can almost taste the air between you—his scent wrapping around you like a warm, familiar blanket. 

God, you feel weak in front of him. 

“I can’t let you drive like this,” he adds softly. 

You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. He cares. He always does. 

“Unless…” he tilts his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got other plans?”  

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through your head as you reached for your phone, your limbs feeling heavy under the weight of sleep. 

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was way too bright, making you wince as you blindly swiped to answer the call without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello…?” Your voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. 

“Mingyu, where are you?! I’ve been trying to reach both of you for hours!” 

Your brows furrowed, confusion washing over you like a cold wave. Mingyu? 

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the name on the screen. Hoshi Hyung. 

Your headache made it hard to process, but one thing was clear—you would never save him like that. 

Why the hell was he even calling you about Mingyu? 

Just as the pieces of the puzzle refused to click into place, you felt it—a presence beside you. 

With a slow, sinking feeling, you turned your head to the right. 

And there he was. 

Mingyu. 

All 187 centimeters of him, sleeping peacefully under your blanket like he belonged there. His hair was tousled, his breathing deep and even, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. 

Your eyes widened, your grip on the phone tightening. You hung up immedietly.  

Fuck. 

Before you could spiral too much, Mingyu let out a deep sigh, his arm stretching out lazily—almost like he was reaching for you. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open but instantly softening the moment they land on you,— The way you were staring at him, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere —his lips curled into a knowing smirk. 

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep. 

“It’s 2 p.m., Mingyu.” 

He blinked slowly before lazily glancing around the room. “Shit, really?” His voice was raspy, thick. He let out a slow breath before sinking deeper into the pillows. “I slept so fucking good.” A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again. 

You watched him. His dark hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, and yet, somehow, it only made him look softer. His skin looked warm and tan against the white sheets. His lips—full, slightly swollen from sleep—parted just the tiniest bit, and for a moment, you had to fight the urge to reach out, to trace them with your fingertips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

You swallowed hard. "I... uh—what happened last night?" 

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face you properly. “You really don’t remember?” 

Your silence was answer enough. 

“Oh, this is fun,” he mused, resting his cheek against his palm. “You were very affectionate. Like, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t expect you to cling to me like that.” 

Your face burned instantly. “Shut up.” 

He grinned wider. “You wouldn’t let go. Kept saying I couldn’t leave, that I should sleep next to you.” His voice dropped into something teasing. “Should I start staying over more often?” 

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it effortlessly before it could hit his face. 

“Ohhh, so violent first thing in the morning,” he teased. “Where’s all that love from last night, huh?” 

You wanted to escape the awkwardness, so you stepped away from the bed, but as you did, your gaze betrayed you—flicking toward Mingyu. His white shirt hung loosely on his frame, almost completely unbuttoned, exposing a hint of his chest and the silver chain resting just above it. The sight made your breath catch for a moment, your heart skipping. 

Mingyu caught your glance. His eyes met yours for a heartbeat, but then they dropped—slowly, unwillingly, lingering on your legs just a moment too long. 

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fabric of your dress inching up, revealing more of your legs than you'd intended. The air between you both seemed to thicken, heavy with something unspoken. 

In an awkward flurry, Mingyu began buttoning his shirt, his movements too quick, too self-conscious, like he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to fill the silence, and nervously stammered, “I—I’m making breakfast.” 

Mingyu immediately sat up, “I’ll do it.” 

You turned to glare at him, a bit sharper than you intended. “I can make it on my own.” 

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

His eyes flickered over you briefly—the exhaustion, the headache written all over your face, the way your clothes were still crumpled from last night. 

“You should take a shower,” he added, voice gentle. “It’ll help with the headache.” 

You blinked at him, and looked down on you after.  

“Yeah..probably.” 

You hesitated for a second before heading towards the bathroom, still feeling like you were stuck in some weird dream. 

The moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you almost flinch. 

Your makeup was smudged, your hair an absolute mess, strands sticking to your forehead. Your dress from last night was wrinkled and slightly loose on one side. 

You looked horrible. Greasy. Disgusting. 

Mingyu slept next to this? 

You suddenly wanted to cry. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weird feelings in your chest. 

By the time you were done, you felt human again. 

There was no way you were putting that dress back on, so you grabbed your bathrobe, tying it tightly around your waist before stepping out. 

Your hair was still damp, strands clinging to your skin as you walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. 

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.  

And then he turned around. 

For a moment, it was like time froze. 

Mingyu’s breath hitched the second his eyes landed on you. 

The damp strands of hair framing your face, the way your robe sat snugly around you, revealing the delicate curve of your collarbone—he was so unprepared for this. 

His fingers twitched around the wooden spoon, and for a split second, he forgot what he was even doing. His grip almost faltered. 

He was staring. 

Hard. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You good?” 

Mingyu swallowed, snapping out of it. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—uh, food’s almost done.” 

He forced a smile, turning back to the stove way too quickly—like he needed a second to compose himself. 

You didn’t question it, shrugging as you took a seat at the table. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, gripping the spoon like it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. 

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

“So.” Mingyu cleared his throat, a little too forcefully. “How’s your headache?” 

You barely looked up, scrolling through the endless messages from Hoshi and Wonwoo. “Hm? Oh-It still hurts. But I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating something."

A beat of silence. 

Too long. Too heavy. 

You, sitting there like that—bare-faced, hair still damp, wrapped up in your robe—he had seen you like this before. And yet, right now, it felt… different. His fingers flexed against the edge of the kitchen counter. 

He didn’t want to think about why. 

“How’s work been lately?” he asked, voice casual—too casual. “You looked exhausted yesterday. And, well… the number of drinks you had kind of spoke for itself.” 

You let out a dry laugh, stretching your legs beneath the table. “Yeah, work… Work has been insane. Feels like half the office is out sick, and I’m the lucky one picking up the slack.” 

Mingyu frowned as he turned off the stove, moving with practiced ease. “That’s bullshit.” A pause. “No wonder you were exhausted.” 

That wasn’t the reason you drank last night, but he didn’t need to know that.  

You shrugged, watching him. The way he knew where everything was. The way he moved through your kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did. 

Mingyu set a plate in front of you before settling into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork but didn’t eat right away, just watching you for a beat. 

“You really need a break,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, his eyes flickered to yours, and something shifted in his expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Or maybe just… new clothes.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

He gestured vaguely toward you. “I mean, I knew you had a couple of my things, but—” He gave you a pointed look. “At this point, half of your closet is mine. I could practically  move in here.” 

You almost choked on your food. 

That little shit. 

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You know, I always wondered where my stuff kept disappearing to.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “For a while, I actually believed I had a hole in my closet.” 

You swallowed your bite. “Weird. Sounds like a you problem.” 

He scoffed. “Oh, really?” 

You nodded, keeping your face blank. “Mhm. No clue what you’re talking about.” 

His gaze flickered over you, his smirk deepening. “So, you’re telling me my hoodies just magically disappeared? Along with my t-shirts? And my beanie? And—” 

“Okay, okay,” you cut in, groaning. “Maybe your clothes are just… way too comfortable. Not my fault they’re basically begging to be stolen.” 

“Begging,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. 

“Yes.” You met his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t see the issue.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” 

You smirked, tilting your head. “And yet, you still let me steal your stuff.” 

He exhaled through his nose, picking at his food. “I don’t let you. You just take it.” 

“Semantics.”  

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something familiar. 

For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Like the weird tension from before had settled into something softer. Something easier. 

But then his eyes lingered on you a second too long. 

And suddenly, it was back. 

That unspoken thing between you. 

Neither of you acknowledged it. 

You just kept eating. 

And Mingyu? 

Mingyu was so, so screwed. 

Your phone started ringing. Hoshi was calling. 

We were screwed. 

By the time evening settled in, you had changed into something comfortable—his clothes, to be exact. He was still here, lingering in your space, and for a few fleeting hours, everything felt right. As if this was how it was always meant to be. As if this was your everyday. But deep down, a small voice whispered, warning you not to get used to it. 

After dinner,  Mingyu is still here. 

You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours when he reaches for a plate, and it’s almost too quick to register. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he. 

He leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely, watching you as you load the dishes into the dishwasher. His voice breaks the silence, low and casual, but there’s an edge to it, something like hesitation. 

“Do you still have a headache?” 

Before you can speak, he’s close. His presence fills the space between you. His left hand gently presses against your forehead.. His right hand moves to your neck, fingers brushing lightly over your skin.  

You barely notice it at first, but when you shift slightly, you feel it—your back pressing against the counter. Mingyu is so close, standing in front of you, subtly caging you in You can barely breathe. You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s so close, or the fact that you want him closer.  

Your voice falters when you answer. "I’m fine now. It’s... better." You watch as Mingyu’s face softens in an instant at your words. 

Neither of you moves, standing close, too close.  

Mingyu’s lips quirk into a grin, but there’s a hint of something more in his voice. “My clothes look good on you. I should let you steal them more often.” 

You laugh, but it’s breathless. You stretch up, reaching for his face, your fingers brushing his skin. You squint your eyes, making a playful face. “I’d do it anyway. Don’t need your permission.” 

Mingyu chuckles, but his gaze shifts, sharpening just enough for you to notice. He steps closer. The warmth radiating off his body, the faint brush of his leg against yours, the way his chest is so close that if you just leaned in the smallest bit, you'd be pressed against him. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing for a second until you force yourself to inhale, only to take in the faint scent of him—clean, familiar, utterly Mingyu. 

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

And then, he inches closer, almost without thinking, and his lips brush against yours—just the lightest touch, so soft that it could almost be a breath. Your body tenses, and for a second, everything stills.  

But fuck, it’s enough to send heat coursing through his veins. 

His lips are soft, teasing, brushing lightly against yours. The kiss is slow, barely there, but enough to leave you gasping for more. 

You inhale sharply, your breath mixing with his. You don’t move away. If anything, you shift closer, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. 

His lips linger, hovering, teasing. Testing. 

His self-control is hanging by a thread. 

He tells himself to stop. You were loosing yourself in it. You- 

- Ding Dong 

The sound of the doorbell rings, slicing through the tension. You both freeze. The world shifts back into focus. The heat, the closeness, everything evaporates in an instant. 

You step back, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Mingyu looks away, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. 

[xoxoaugust]

I Dont Know If I'll See You Again

In which: Sae Itoshi knew what he wanted from the beginning. He wanted to be a professional soccer player, and to play alongside those who weren't a waste of time (well according to him). Unbeknownst to Sae, a little birdie told him that you, a childhood friend of his, would be in Spain for the next three years. He didn't think he'd ever see you again, especially not after your, not so peaceful falling-out. But who knows what might happen when he comes face to face with you again? (2.0k wc)

an: This is 4 years after the start of the first selection, so Sae is around 22 years old. In this timeline, Sae and Rin have made up (because I said so) and he has returned to Spain to continue playing. I put this with the U-20 team because the only other person I know of that was on the Spainish team is Luna, sooooooo idk idk. Reader is fem, and is a university student in film studies. Enjoyyyy!(might make multiple parts)

His POV

January 1st, 2022

The New Year, god he hated the New Year. What is so special about a new year? It's just another 365 days to spend, what is so different that you must celebrate so loudly. Sae was just a little bit grumpy that all he could hear was loud music, drunkenly cheers, and laughter all night long.

Sae was meticulous about his night routine, he would work out, shower, brush his teeth, wash his face, set his hair, put on his sleep mask and then pass out. Unfortunately for his teammates, he couldn't sleep properly that night, so now everyone must suffer. Luckily, practices were called off for the week, for new years, and weather reasons.

'no practice' is not a thing to Sae, even if they were called off, he would still be at that field. So there he was 6:00 AM on January 1st, practicing alone. He didn't mind being alone, he was more than used to it. But sometimes, even just for a split second, he forgets that there was a time where he wasn't truly lonely. That split second eats at his mind like that plague, he hated how vulnerable it made him feel, so he would act like it never happen.

January 5th, 2022

When he wasn't at the field practicing or at home watching clips, he would be found at the little family cafe down a couple blocks from his penthouse. He would go there after an early morning jog, and order the same thing. An unsweetened iced matcha with a yogurt fruit bowl, he liked it because it didn't fill him up too much before a practice.

That morning at practice in locker rooms, he overheard something...interesting. He couldn't give a crap about anything Aiku had to say, but this was the only time he was truly listening.

"A close friend of mine is coming back for some time, she hasn't told me how long she's going to stay, but she's studying here."

Out of curiosity, Sendou asks,

"What's her name? Is she hot?"

"Why is that the first thing you think of? She's pretty but thats so weird to say. Her name is [y/n]."

"Well my bad! Its not like i'm going to try, I'm going to date a hot actress."

The groans let out in that room echoed from wall to wall, but Sae on the other hand broke character. Sae is know for his neutral, cold demeanor, but hearing your name clashed against the chink in his armor, and was enough for the walls to come crashing down.

November 27th, 2017

His POV

God, what a drag. Why was Rin so damn persistent on that dream, it wasn't even realistic.

Sae had just won the goal against Rin, and sealed the deal of scrapping that old dream. He had to say, he didn't enjoy saying this to his brother, but if no one was going to be honest with him, who was?

He knew his brother would be at that field, but he didn't know that you would be there.

He turned to look at you, standing there with a shocked expression and teary eyes. He couldn't stand it, why were you looking at him like that? Like he was evil, or something.

You walked closer to the brothers. Sae thought you would walk to him and say something. Maybe a 'Welcome back!' or something that matched your usually cheerful personality. But no, you walked right over to Rin, and helped him up off the ground.

Rin saw you like an older sister, you basically were. You always made sure he took care of himself, even before Sae left. He had immense respect for you, he considered you his best friend.

Rin stared down at you with a heartbreaking expression, tears flowed down his face as he avoided making eye contact with you for too long, he thought it might spare some of his dignity.

Your POV

At first you were shocked, how could Sae do this? Easy answer, this wasn't your Sae.

Your Sae would rather die than ever hurt his little brother, he would never intentionally hurt him. Your Sae would give his younger brother the last popsicle, he would bandage his wounds, he would play with him, protect him from anything or anyone that even tried to harm his precious brother. They were like peas in a pod.

You would know, you and Sae had practically raised Rin. You would pack him and Sae food to eat after playing because they would always forget, and they would always get hangry. They would stop by your house right next door and take you to their games, to get popsicles. You saw how kind Sae truly was, Rin brought out the best in him.

But now, he's changed.

Now you felt anger, unadulterated rage.

You didn't hesitate. Not even a little bit.

You shot a glare at him before marching up to him.

You slapped the everliving shit out of him.

You left a red mark on his face, the hands he used to hold had now hurt him.

The two of you never dated, but you acted like a couple. Just two kids holding hands on the park benches eating snacks, stolen glances and warm cheeks.

Sae was your first love, and you were his first love.

No, scratch that. You taught him love.

He stood there, like a kicked puppy holding his cheek. No expression, just a frown tattooed on his pretty face, the same on he walked in with.

You never yelled at him, until today.

"Sae Itoshi, I don't know what happened to you in Spain, and honestly I don't care right now, but you cannot treat Rin this way!

I don't know who you think you are, maybe that 'Japan's Treasure' title finally got to you, but the audacity is appalling!

You come back after FOUR WHOLE YEARS, you didn't contact Rin or I for three years out of the four.

and the first FUCKING thing you say is say is this lame, no PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A HELLO?

no, you don't get to treat either of us this way, some treasure you are."

That got his attention.

"What did you want me to do? Let him live on with some childish dream? He won't get anywhere dreaming like a toddler. I was busy building my career, not that you would know anything about that."

If you weren't angry before, you were SCATHING now.

You took a breath in, and out.

You wanted to scream, but you knew it would be a lost cause.

"When did you get so cruel?"

...

Thats where the memory ended before Aiku's loud voice snapped him out of his daze. His mind clouded by the vision of her teary eyes.

It couldn't be you right? There could always be another person with the same name, there's no way you could ever be friends with Oliver Aiku.

*incoming call from [name]*

Oliver picked up his phone and answered your call.

"Hey what's up?"

"I'm at the airport right now, can you drop me to my apartment building?"

"I am nothing but a servant to you huh?"

"So dramatic, i'll just take an uber you lazy ass"

Oliver laughs before saying

"No i'm done with practice i'm on my way"

Now he was sure, it was you. He would never forget that voice. The voice that he would wait to hear every night over the phone when he first went to Spain. The voice that brought him comfort when he was homesick. And the same voice that flooded him with guilt for the last 5 years.

a week later ----------------------------------------------------------------

He jogs to his little cafe down the street, same time as usual. He walks in, slightly sweaty.

As he approached the counter, he froze.

"Can I have one sweetened iced matcha and one avocado toast? Thanks!" You smiled as you swiped the card and clicked the 20% tip option before turning around to find a nice table.

When you turned around, you made eye contact with Sae.

It was as if time stood still, or rather time spun backwards.  

You hated this, you hated how you turned into that lovesick little girl in his presence, even after five whole years.  

You broke eye contact. You weren’t going to let him ruin your breakfast or ruin your stay in Spain. You walked past him to the nice table next to the window.  

He walked up to the register and order his usual. He tends to forget that he grew to love matcha because of you, yet another reminder of you.  

He grabs his food and sits at the table right next to you.  

“You just can’t leave me alone, can you?” You said sharply. 

“You’re sitting at the table I usually sit at; this was the next best seat.” 

“Still an ass I see” you laughed bitterly. 

You sipped on your matcha as you typed away on your laptop, being an exchange student was no joke. You felt Sae’s eyes on your screen.  

“What are you studying here?” Sae asked. 

You sighed, loudly.  

“I’m here for my bachelor’s degree, in film studies.” 

“You still want to be an actor? Wow, you haven’t changed.” 

You turned to him and glared. 

“No, I'm studying to be a director.”  

He turned his head to look at you.

"You always talked about how much you wanted to be an actress, what changed?"

You scoffed, how dense can one man be?

"Well people change, you're walking proof."

He sighed, he and Rin had made up years ago, why were you still upset?

"You know Rin and I made up right?"

You stopped typing.

"I know." You said softly.

In all honesty, you didn't know why you were still angry, it was probably bitterness because he didn't reach out in those five years to say anything, but then again you didn't expect him to anyways.

In your mind you felt bad, you shouldn't hold a grudge, especially not for this long, but you'd never admit that out loud.

"How have you been? It's been a while." You said, in effort to reciprocate the conversation.

"Not too bad, what about you?"

"I'd be good if my professor wouldn't assign more than he can grade, but aside from that i'm good."

You smiled awkwardly before turning back to your laptop to type. Sae felt relief, he's never felt this tense about anything.

"How is Rin? Did you see him before coming here?" he asked.

You felt a smile creep up to your lips, you knew he loved his brother.

"I did, he's doing great, he's playing in pro leagues now, watch out though, he might kick your ass."

He almost laughed, you're still the funny and loving girl you've always been. You sat in comfortable silence for the remaining time, but as you got up to leave and say goodbye, he stops you. He writes something down on a notecard that slipped out of your bag.

"Is this your number?"

"Yes, I got a new one back when I got a new phone. Call me if you need anything."

You smiled.

"I will, i'll see you around." You waved at him before walking out of the cafe.

You had only just left, but Sae hopes that you'll call soon.

As he jogs back to his penthouse, he feels his phone vibrate.

Today 7:13 AM

Is this Sae? It's {name}

Yes this is Sae.

jeez you text like an old man

Using grammar is being like an old man?

yes

Now I see how you and Aiku are friends.

thats so mean :(

whatever

Oliver told me to come to one of your practices so you might see me there

Okay, see you then.

He felt his chest bubble when he heard you call Aiku by his first name. But, at least he knew when he'd see you again.

xoxo, august

(pt 2 upon request)

[kkoga]

DO IT. DO THE HURT NO COMFORT. PLPSLSPLSPSLSPLS I LOVE ANGST!!!

-🎧

A/N : your wish is my command....

RAINY NIGHTS, sophia laforteza x fem!reader

Warning ! Hurt no comfort, toxic relationship, mentions of sensitive topics, not proofread

Disclaimer ! Everything written here is pure fiction. Every person is not a real portrayal of themselves.

Now playing ! Cologne by beabadobee

WC — I dont knkw bruh i wrote this and its 3 fucking am im not mentally sane lawl phones also 7 percent.

Synopsos ! After Sophia Laforteza fucks up multiple times, Y/n decides she's had enough. Time and time the girl had waited, but much to her dismay, all Sophia had done, was disappoint her.

Y/n shamefully exits the restaurant, feeling dozens of eyes on her. The girl had been waiting for her girlfriend, Sophia Laforteza, to show up to a date they've been planning for weeks now.

The first hour wasn't so bad. Maybe she had gotten stuck in traffic, or maybe she would be just a little late. The second hour was worse. At that point, waiters and waitresses had started asking her where her partner was. And what Y/n hated the most, was the fact that she had no answer to their questions.

Now here she was, after the fourth hour of waiting. It was currently 12 am, and much to the girl's luck, it had just started raining.

The girl could only sigh.

"What a great marvellous day! Not only does Sophia leave me waiting for our date, it starts raining right after I get kicked out! Absolutely hilarious!" Y/n mumbes to herself, tears beginning to well up.

"Maybe she just forgot. I mean, she's busy afterall..." The girl tried her best to convince herself that this was going to be a one time thing.

She was wrong.

Y/n bites her inner lip. It has been 2 hours since their designated sleepover. It's been weeks since Sophia had gone over to her house. So they'd been planning for a movie night. And tonight was that night. So why exactly has Sophia been ignoring her calls?

Y/n presses the call button once more, but to no avail, she was met with Sophia's voice mail for the nth time.

The popcorn was starting to get cold, and the ice cream was starting to melt. Y/n sighs. It's been two hours. Maybe she got caught up in an emergency schedule?

"Couldn't she just have told me...?" Y/n shakenly whispers to herself. This was the fourth time Sophia had stood her up this month alone.

Y/n begrudgingly placed the ice cream back in the fridge and seals the popcorn in a random container. The sound of rain keeping her grounded.

"It's okay. This will be the last time this happens."

Finally. Sophia had finally shown up to a hang out. Y/n had been waiting for the past month. The girl had greatly missed her girlfriend, and she hoped Sophia felt the same.

"Sophie! Hi!" Y/n ran up to Sophia, and hugged her as tight as she could. Afraid to let go, scared she might lose the one person able to cheer her up with a simple smile.

"Y/n! Baby! Hi, i missed you so much." Sophia hugged the girl back, and for a moment, Y/n thought,

"Finally. We're back to normal. Oh god, how I've missed my girl."

Y/n couldn't help the small but sweet smile that had formed.

It had been an hour since their hang out started, and apparently, Sophia had to go. Y/n felt sad, but knew it was her job, her dream. And Y/n would never get in the way of that.

As Sophia entered her car, Y/n bid goodbye to her girlfriend.

"Bye Sophie, miss you, and i love you." Y/n leans down for a cheek kiss, almost missing the unreadable expression Sophia had on her face.

"Yeah, bye." And with that, Sophia drives off to god knows where.

"No i love you too...? No... maybe she just forgot. It's fine." And suddenly, rain had started pouring. Y/n quickly ran for cover, but couldn't avoid looking like a somewhat wet puppy.

It was infact, not fine. It had been three months since that little mini date, and Sophia hadn't said the words "I love you". Atleast not without Y/n basically telling her to.

What went wrong? What did Y/n ever do? Did she offend Sophia? Did she do anything to form this... this gap between them?

Y/n felt so lost. So... confused. She was so sure she hadn't done anything. At least not anything she could remember. Well, she was going to find out tonight.

The door opens widely, in a swift manner. And in comes Sophia, sick and worried.

"Y/N, BABY, ARE YOU OKAY?? I came as soon as i got the text, I—" The panicked Sophia came in, expecting to see an injured or sick Y/n. But all she had found was Y/n sitting on the chair of one of her counters, with a stoic look on her face.

Sophia's breathe was heavy, like she had ran to get to Y/n's apartment.

"Why are you completely fine? You texted me it was an emergency Y/n, I was busy—!"

"Well, you always are, aren't you?" Y/n looks up to Sophia's eyes, and frustration begins to fill the Filipina.

"Excuse me? You know I'm constantly busy. For fucks sake, I'm an idol! You can't—"

"I know. I know what I signed up for, Laforteza. I know I'd never get in the way of your dreams. You would never even let me." Y/n gets off the stool, and faces her girlfriend.

"So what's your point! What, you call me here because you missed me? I was in a fucking meeting Y/n. With one of HYBE's officials!! Do you know how fucking important that is?" Sophia scratches her head in disbelief, her anger bubbling up faster than it ever has. Y/n sighs defeatedly.

"More important than me?"

Silence filled the apartment. What felt like hours were only a few measly seconds.

"The silence was more than enough, Laforteza. I'm tired. I am so fucking tired of you leaving me hanging. At first, it was a date here, a date there, but nowadays, it's like everything we plan just ends up with me waiting."

"But I'm trying Y/n! I'm trying my best for you, for my members, for my fucking dream. Why can't you just understand that?"

"Then answer this, Laforteza. When was the last time you had told me the words "I love you"? When was the last time you had willingly told me those three words."

Sophia tried to recollect, the Filipina had really tried her best. But the realization had hit her hard.

"Fucking THINK Laforteza. Give me a goddamned answer. When was the last time you had given me a sincere, loving, "I love you"?... ANSWER ME!"

"I... I can't remember...." Sophia had started tearing up. Why couldn't she fucking remember the last time she had said I love you to her own fucking girlfriend?

Y/n let out a laugh. But it wasn't the usual light and hearty laugh Sophia had always heard. This laugh sounded painful. It was like all of Y/n's vocal chords had suddenly forgotten what a laugh had sounded like.

After a few seconds, Y/n's laughing had turned into sobs.

"Do you know how many times I've had to shamefully walk out of a restaurant, or get kicked out? Sophia, everyone looked at me. Their eyes were so full of pity. The waiters and waitresses constantly checked up on me like I was some poor child, left behind by her mother. Countless times, Sophia. I endured it all, thinking it would be the last time."

Y/n's voice had started cracking, and the girl had made a face Sophia had never seen before. One filled with so much sadness, so much sorrow.

"But time and time again, you proved me wrong. Every date you stood up, every "I love you" left unanswered, destroyed me, Sophia."

"Baby... baby I'm so sorry, please—" Sophia tries to move closer to Y/n, but the girl pulls away.

"Don't. Don't ever call me baby ever again. You don't get the fucking right, Sophia."

"I'm so disappointed in you Sophia. I never thought you'd ever treat me this way. Your career may have excused a missing date or two. But seven in a row? Sophia, we've gone on three total dates for the past four month's. And we had planned seventeen. Seven fucking teen Sophia. You stood me up fourteen times, and that's only for the past four months."

"I.. please I'm so—"

"So let's end this."

"...what?"

This felt so surreal. Y/n had just asked her if they could end it. Sophia had felt her whole world crumble. She caused this? Has she really broken down the one person who had supported her through everything?

"No.. no, no we aren't. Please, just give me a chance to—"

"No, Laforteza. Get out. We're over."

Sophia laughs, hoping this was some sort of wicked sick dream.

"We aren't over Y/n. Please, I just—"

"We've been over for the past seven months, Laforteza. What we've had for those last few months was just me trying to keep us both on the same page. But a relationship requires two people. We can't keep going if your heart isn't in it, Laforteza."

Sophia couldn't help it. Her tears had burst out like there was no tomorrow. The girl hadn't cried like this for a long, long time.

"But.. but I need you Y/n, please..." At this point, the Filipina had gotten on her knees.

"No, you don't. Hell, you don't even want me. You just think you do. So please, get up and leave, before I say things I don't think I can take back."

"I can't just leave!"

"Yes you can. Leave. For the both of us, Sophie." The mention of her nickname was driving Sophia crazy.

"But I fucking love you Y/n!" .

Y/n looks at Sophia with a tired face.

"Do you really?"

Sophia looks at Y/n. A look of desperation displayed on her pretty face. Y/n hates how she's never going to see that face ever again. Hates how she's never going to kiss that pretty face to sleep ever again. Hates how those soft and comforting arms will never comfort her ever again. Hates how she will never wake up next to the love of her life ever again. Hates how Sophia will never be hers ever again. But she was okay with that. She knew it had to end one way or another. It was better this way.

And so, after more back and forth conversations, Sophia reluctantly leaves. Sophia closes the door, and Y/n locks it right after.

Y/n will never open up her heart for Sophia ever again. And the latter knows that. They were over. They were really over. Neither could believe it. The two fall to their knees, on opposite sides of the door. The sound of heavy rain masking the others cries.

Guess rainy nights were never their thing.

[box953]

vinnayyyyyyy idk if anyone has asked you before but what are your post canon visions for all the surviving characters??

HIIII umm let me pull some thoughts out of my beautiful mind.

The only thing i have really ever ruminated on is the idea of Jacobi showing up at Minkowski’s house after disappearing off the face of the earth for several months and forcefully moving in on her couch. Minkowski who is in the process of trying to heal her relationship with her husband who thought she was fucking Dead and who is going through a Lot because that healing process comes with realizing just how much she has to tell him about what she Did up there and then Jacobi, one of the guys who was greatly impacted by the things Minkowski Did, shows up like hey lol. Im here to be your reoccurring sitcom side character.

i think Jacobi shows up to her place because he’s incredibly aimless without si-5 work and without Kepler to follow around like a lost dog. He absolutely guilts her into it because he Knows that she feels bad about Maxwell and i think his lost dog schtick really nails home how much hes lost and she feels responsible for his aimlessness on earth. And also in a weird way his anger towards Minkowski is also a memory of Maxwell and that all funnels together into a weird brain concoction of feelings that make him feel very Attached to Minkowski, even if he doesn’t like her.

Any other characters are a lot more vague in my mind. I have absolutely no clue what they would do with Hera and her supergiant supercomputer brain but through the power of “dont worry about it” maybe they just turn her into a home security system or something. I don’t think she’d like it but they don’t have much for other options.

I think a lot about Eiffel’s memory loss and. While i dont Like it. If i had to play in the space with it, i feel like Eiffel should regain those memories. And, playing into the fact that Doug Eiffel is a coward, i think it would be interesting if him regaining his memories on earth had to be an intentional process that he had to work through in order to gain those memories. Because then there is the possibility of him realizing more and more about who he is and having to wrestle with the idea of just taking the cowards way out and continuing to forget. Forget what happened, forget everything he did, forget why he was ever sent up to orbit wolf 359, and just move on as this new version of himself instead of having to address the person he is. Could be fun. Could be silly. I envision him and Hera wandering around his mindscape (dont ask me how they have the resources to jack her in there) and idk i think it could be interesting to play with the visuals of actively having to go find your memories in your mind.

lovelace…. Lovelace…… i want good things for her. I do not know if they would come to her easy back on earth. I feel she would be very restless. I think she would go hard into no-contact, no way to track her down, disappearing to a beach off the coast of nowhere for a while to decompress after four years of the torture labyrinth. I think that has mixed results and has the capacity to tip over into just pure isolation. After some time maybe she wraps back around to keep in touch with Eiffel to make sure he’s doing okay and then just keeping in touch with the others over time. But i think shes going to need a lot of support once she gets down there.

and this is all without really considering any Goddard related nonsense. I think a post-canon wolf 359 has the capacity to just delve into More Story Happening. I think Lovelace should plan to infiltrate Goddard futuristics to literally blow it up from the inside. That could be a fun spinoff series. But thats its own entire thought process and im just looking at this through a pov of “what if they were returning back to normal lives on earth”

[hana-recs]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cinnamon || KMG

banner by @sailorrhansol

Written for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab!

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

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

WC: 19k

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

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

--

December

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

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

“Morning. You’re up early.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roomies 💕

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

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

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

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

[8:09am] You: you’re disgusting

[8:09am] Cinnamingyu: you love me

[8:10am] You: 🙄

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[8:14am] You: yet ☝️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[10:51am] You: yeeeeees 🤭

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

[10:51am] You: blocked and reported

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: you know

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

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

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

[8:38pm] You: i don’t 😘

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

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

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

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

He’s a nice guy.

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

But. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh. “She was cute!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are we watching?” he asks absently.

“Nothing, apparently,” Jeonghan quips.

Beside you, Mingyu growls a little.

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

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

Mingyu stops scrolling, pausing to think. 

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

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

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

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

You feel rather than see your friends share a glance. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You go ahead,” Mingyu says.

“You were in line first,” you argue.

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

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

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

[12:51am] You: me too ☺️

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

–

January 

New Year’s Eve

Roomies 💕

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

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

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

[11:13pm] You: yyyeeesssss??

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

[11:16am] Cinnamingyu: ok 🙁

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

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

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

[11:17am] Cinnamingyu: ???

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

[11:18am] Cinnamingyu: lmao on it 🫡

[11:28am] Cinnamingyu: ok im ready

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

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

[11:29am] Cinnamingyu: or whatever 🙄 

[11:29am] You: 😘

New Year’s Day

Roomies 💕

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

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

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

[4:09am] You: home safe ♥️ 

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

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

[12:42pm] You: ok! i’ll be here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t.

You open your eyes again. “Mingyu?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He whines a response. 

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

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

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

–

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

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

–

February

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

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

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

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

Apparently, you’re an asshole. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyway. Life goes on, right?

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

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

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

The secretary is still watching you, harmlessly curious. 

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

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

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

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

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

You freeze when you flick on your bedroom light.

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

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

Sunny flowers for Sunny Baby. Love you. - M

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you reply meekly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s fine,” you say again, firmly. 

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

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

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

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

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

His smile triples.

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

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

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

“Sunny’s not mine,” he says simply. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.”

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

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

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

“Nah,” you say easily. “I’m not his.”

-

March

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

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

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

“Fuck Marcus in Accounting,” you answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re going to be sick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not that simple,” you argue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m thinking,” you say dryly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

April 

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

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

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

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

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

“Entertain me,” he whines.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

May

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, Jeonghan is kind of right. 

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

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

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

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

“Rude,” Wonwoo remarks from the couch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Knock it off,” you growl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s being too nice. You feel terrible. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

June

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just one more you can add to your list.

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh oh,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Our hero,” Jeonghan deadpans.

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

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

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

“Everything okay?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mingyu!” you laugh again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not!” you protest. “It’s true.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart cracks. 

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

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

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

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

“I know you didn’t,” you allow. 

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

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

He has nothing to say to that. 

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

“Were you sleeping?” he asks.

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

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

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

That guy again. What is it with these two? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s like that, huh?” you joke.

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

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

–

July

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence falls on the kitchen like a rockslide. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course not-”

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

[5:23pm] You: i don’t care

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

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

–

August

August 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

August 4

[7:43am] Mingyu: you’re killing me

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

[1:36pm] Mingyu: come home

[1:36pm] Mingyu: please

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

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

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

[10:23am] You: no. my mom’s. 

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

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

August 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I sense a but,” he says dryly. 

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

He shrugs, face blank. “Okay.” 

“Daeyoung.” 

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

That guy. Again.

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

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

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

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

August 6

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning ☀️

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

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

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

[8:03am] Mingyu: fine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[8:09am] Mingyu: i’m an idiot

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

[11:59pm] Mingyu: please come home

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

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

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

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

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

August 7

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

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

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

August 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

August 9

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then he says your name.

Not Sunny. Not Sunny Baby. Your real name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He whispers your name again, then looks at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The peace lasts…. until you check your phone. 

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

—

November

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

thank you so much for reading!!!!

[w0rmss]

Hi hi!!

I'm wondering if you could do something domestic with Jason and an anxious! or maybe something to do with stress baking? I'd really like if it were mostly fluff but ultimately it's dealer's choice.

Have a great Day/Afternoon/Evening/Night!!!

Thank you for the request i did two one with just general anxiety and one including the stress baking hope you enjoy.

(The anxiety is heavily influenced by my own just waning)

tw anxiety panic attacks/ anxiety attacks stress baking.

Work was stressful right now and your shared apartment with your boyfriend Jason was a mess. Everything was just getting two much and your head was racing a million miles an hour. ‘you’ll never finish the project in time and pull get fired.’ ‘Jason will hate you for messing up the apartment while he’s gone.’ ‘Everything is a mess and it’s your fault.’ All these thoughts race through your head. You know they’re not true but your logical brain isn’t working and everything is too much. Your chest gets tight and your head spins. Your hands fidget with the cloth in them and you cant think straight. Everything is loud and you cant focus on your breathing no matter how hard you try.

Jason walks through the front door after a mission. He’d been gone for a few days and hoped you’d be fine without him. When he walked in he found you curled up hyperventilating on the couch. “Baby.” He dropped his bag and rushed over to you kneeling in front of you. “Hey hey it’s okay. Can i take your hands.” You let him take hold of your shakey hands. “Deep breath okay. In.” He takes a deep breath and you do the same. “And out.” You breathe out. “Again.” His voice is soft and loving his presence calming. He sits with you walking you through breathing exercises till you’ve calmed down and your breathing is normal and your head somewhat cleared.

Jason sits next to you with you curled into his side. “Wanna tell me what happened. I not it’s fine.” He asks finally breaking the silence. You sigh and curl into him further. “Everything got to much and the thoughts took over.” You fee silly, even if you know you shouldn’t you’d been working on this with both your therapist and Jason, yet you still let the thoughts take over. “Hey it’s okay. I know we talked about starving the thought gremlins but sometimes he’s extra hunger and wont stop. And thats okay too.” He rubs your hip lovingly. The thoughts are gone for now and all you focus on is being with Jason.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The whole place smells like bake goods when Jason gets up from his nap and the kitchen is covered in said good along with the ingredients and you. You stand backing in the middle of the small kitchen muttering about deadlines. Jason sighs. He’s been with you long enough to know when you get stressed you bake and then you dont stop because you’re so stressed. “Baby?” Jason walks further into the kitchen. “Mmm” you hum in respond not looking up from where you’re beating egg whites like they killed your dog. “How long have you been at this.” He asks picking up a cookie and taking a bite. “Not that I'm complaining i love your baking this is just a tad much no.” That gets your attention and you look around seeing the mess and the cookies cakes and croissants in the kitchen. “When did i make croissants.” You mumble realising you went a bit over bored. “Umm… some to the neighbours?” You smile sheepishly looking at the mess you made. Jason nods taking another bite from the cookie. “Good idea. I’ll help clean up.

It doesn’t take long for you both to clean up the kitchen and you give most of the baking to the kids in the complex. Finally you and Jason sit down together on the couch. “Next time you’re that stressed, tell me so you dont go that overboard again. I’m here to help baby. I love you.” He kisses your forehead. “I know im sorry works just ugh, I didn’t think it was that bad.” Jason reaches over and turns on the tv pulling you closer. “Love you Jay.” You smile. “Love you too baby”

Hope you enjoyed keep request i will get to them eventually. Thank you so much for all the likes on my stuff i really appreciate it and thank you so much.

also if you suffer from really bad stress or anxiety there are some great free resources online and on YouTube. Please stay safe and take care of your mental health guys it’s so important.

Have a wonderful day night afternoon etc ❤️

[chrollohearttags]

this na’ziyah harris case has been tearing me up so bad and I just can’t get over it. it’s so heartbreaking but not surprising how older black women will coddle predators but villify young black girls for things they have no control over. even if it’s never been to the extent of full SA, I feel like a majority of us in the community at some point has experienced predatory behavior from an older man or being called ‘fast’ or ‘grown’ simply because we developed faster. and the moms, aunties, grannies, etc blamed us for what a grown adult has done or said. not to mention this sick bastard gave a 4 y/o VD and hurt his own daughter (I couldn’t specify if it was the same child but either way it’s disgusting) ik they’re turning his nasty ass every way but loose in that fucking cell but it still doesn’t change the fact that he stole all of these poor babies’ innocence and na’ziyah’s life. I really hate how our ppl move sometimes man…that whole family failed her and I pray one day she can be found and laid to rest 💔

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[tubbytarchia]

gg buddy am I right (ethubs doodle that I don't know what to do with)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

if i said i picked up this issue for anything but drunk erik i fear i'd be lying

(Wolverine (2020) #3)

[moeblob]

A lil guy !

[ratatatastic]

cats attending a yacht party as if they werent at booze garden at 1am the same day is so incredibly-

also matthew MATTHEW THAT SHIRT. THAT SHIRTTTTT. WHAT IS THAT.

6.29.24 (x)