#[tho i can't remember if that is where I was going with this... which is ok! hehehe]

[kosmicdream]

Absolutely love to hear that you made someone promise to read FFAK as a penalty for losing a MTG game!! Anyway yes, as far as reccs go - definitely check out Kemonozume. It actually was specifically a huge influence for FFAK when i was brainstorming ideas, although I had seen it several years before making FFAK.

I will admit, i haven’t read much Ishinomori LOL.. - my favorite work of his besides Cyborg 007 is Kikaider! Which was actually visually, a huge inspiration for the robot/cyborg designs in FFAK - specifically Scissor’s look. I have been meaning to reread his manga again because its been such a long time since I did. The real reason why I get petty about him and Go Nagai is kind of like.. Well.. 

Obviously, growing up in the 90s, its hard to imagine not being into Power Rangers in some way - which I loved a lot but I’ll admit I barely remember details.. Its just like a fond childhood.. Memory. Power rangers for me really quickly got replaced by Sailor Moon - but it was still something that everyone KNEW. Later on in life when I got more into manga (i always was fond of anime from a young age, whatever I could get my hands on anyway) .. And in my teens, taking it “more seriously” as I wanted to become a comic artist myself.. I remember being like.. Oh my god, wait, Power Rangers!??! THAT was the Cyborg 007 guy?! And he- what?! HUH?? And I feel like - not to dunk on Go Nagai - but Kamen Rider and stuff is like.. Hard to imagine that just like.. Not existing for television? If that makes sense?? Like, how many kids had power ranger birthday parties, wore those for halloween, ect ect- while anime still was like.. It obviously WAS there and had its influence in the 90s but it was still “uncool.” but ALL the kids loved POWER RANGERS! 

And to me, while Go Nagai has certainly influenced SO much with his work and is a huge titan in his own way - it DOESNT feel comparable in the scope of what Ishinomori managed to do. I guess. Like, to me, Ishinomori - while still heavily influenced by Tezuka - made a different kind of impact on the world that just wasn’t there before him. That makes him feel like a different.. Kind of influential titan in terms of like. Scope. Its like “so big” that no one sees it anymore, because it feels like its not from “anyone.”. (and obvs, he wasn’t the only person involved in Super Sentai and ect..) BUT.. so isn’t go nagai with his works!!! And Ishinomori draws way better than Go nagai.. even if I think Ishinomori’s style is also virtually identical to Tezuka that i used to get them confused and STILL can be confused seeing them side by side lmao 

Regardless tho, this i just my opinion on the two of them.. I do appreciate how horny, weird, and genderfucky Go Nagai’s work often includes. And i do think that is incredibly valuable, anime/manga history would not be the same without it.. BUT… i also think many mangaka were contributing to this rising trend of darker and more sexual themes!! Including Tezuka.

OH.. so .. Tezuka.. 

UMMM.. as for Tezuka.. Jfc.. its hard to know where to start ‘cause I love so much of his work. He’s so unhinged. He's a fascinating storyteller to me.. as well as who he was as an artist and person. I love learning about him. Its delightful, tragic, puzzling and often surreal too. It makes me reflect a lot on my own life as an artist and how I ended up being like how i am, and why art possesses me too in a way I can't really comprehend. BUT, through learning about Tezuka - it gives me some language to describe it and makes me feel less alone and less strange. I've basically, over the years, created my own Tezuka-sona in my head to help mentor me through difficult times in my art and comics. Obviously, its not remotely him at all - its me wearing a mask of this.. exaggerated, characterization of who Tezuka is to me - but that game i play with myself helps me a lot when I'm stuck. Somehow pretending to be him, or pretending I understand how he'd think - grounds me. usually because I am apposed to him and his "reckless behavior" - of overworking, overthinking, being too impulsive.. ect.. but he also has "the thing" - "the spark" of what true artistic genius looks like. a fire that goes on for generations and generations and never goes out. The.. "it cannot be replicated" kind of "genius." He is THAT to me and I will always love him for making me feel that way. And I know a lot of artists do too. It truly is magical. I truly feel he gave that to everyone and anyone with his art. AND he was a furry with a transformation kink FOR sure. not even a single doubt. Thank FUCK for Tezuka!! ...Anyway!! i am rambling quite a bit here.. it happens a lot w/ tezuka.. it just does.. i never shut up abt tezuka.. Phoenix of course, his unfinished masterpiece, is still my favorite. (Nostalgia & Sun part 1/part 2 are my favorites from that series.) I also love MW, Ode to Kirihito, Black Jack, Book of Human Insects, Ayako.. Ect..  and so many of his short story collections. I don’t really like a lot of his younger-audience stories. And I actually didnt rly like Buddha, which is usually regarded as one of his greatest works.. But Pheonix and MW are probably my true favorites. If there was (another) house fire, I would probably try to grab my phoenix volumes. That’s how important they are to me (and those things are hella expensive now lmao.) Also Kaiba, another anime series by Yuasa that is a bit more popular, is undoubtably very Tezuka inspired. I didn't like it as much as Kemonozume, but it still was a memorable watch & had great music. I still listen to the soundtrack!

And dont worry, i will keep making FFAK! Unless i actually manage to finish it. Then i will work on other things. Who knows!! for now, we still have a long ways to go before I can even pretend to say its wrapping up.

do you have any opinions on go nagai? having read devilman + devilman lady i think you have a lot in common with him as an artist

Oh. I have OPINIONS.. My hot take is that i actually kinda hate Go Nagai LMAO.. i know, i think most would assume otherwise but.. Well. Every time i have read or engaged with an adaptation of his work, I’m left feeling underwhelmed in a way that’s.. pretty frustrating. I wanna like it! but I’m usually left with feeling “.. that’s it??” and i struggle to feel an actual connection with anything made, it feels more like seeing something for the sake of having a broader appreciation for manga.Like, of course, you cannot deny his legacy/influence on manga/anime. But personally i need more than that to connect with an artist and so far, I haven’t felt it. I don’t want it to be forced, but it doesn’t keep me pursuing more of his stories to see if it clicks for me. 

I could also feel this way because I’m such a huge Tezuka fan (he’s one of my favorite artists ever who massively changed my storytelling when I started reading him as a teenager) that I almost have a harder time looking at Go Nagai’s stories and wondering what new things he brings to the table that Tezuka hasn’t.. Done already but better. Possibly a hundred times even. This also could just be a trend with western online circles, but i get kinda offended?? That Go nagai is brought up SO often when i feel like Shotaro Ishinomori was like. Way more interesting as an artist (while also being another well known mangaka Tezuka directly mentored) To me. And i dont see his name brought up quite as often. This is of course just a very petty reason but I CANT LIE.. it will still annoy me.. I see the appeal of Go Nagai’s artwork, but it kinda always gives the vibe of like. Traced Tezuka drawings to me. My favorite thing about his work has to be maybe Sirene’s design. And some of the devil designs are cool. But man, that's kind of like grasping at straws to say something nice. I think his cover art/illustrations are stronger than his actual manga pages, which i feel often look very stiff or unintentionally awkward. His stories too feel a bit rushed. Like “i dont know what im doing! Who gives a fuck!!! heh” kind of writing. Which I think can be appealing and fun but idk.. 

I think because Berserk is such a huge influence on my work, it makes sense that Devilman would be a given too, since Devilman was essentially the blueprint for a lot of Berserk. But I really just think what Miura saw and took from Devilman was vastly more interesting than devilman itself for me. I also somewhat enjoyed the Devilman crybaby anime that was made several years ago but.. Once again.. That was because of Masaaki Yuasa, who is one of my favorite anime directors.. And.. also.. Devilman Crybaby kind of just felt like Kemonozume (an older anime by Yuasa) but worse. It was still fun! but Kemonozume was truly unique and incredible to me. All those qualities that i liked about crybaby were in Kemonozume but stronger, with an original plot/characters and felt less restrained narratively to a pre-existing story. (and one with such a big legacy)

IDK.. hopefully not too disappointing to hear but that’s my honest opinion… So far everything of Go Nagai seems more interesting when done by other people for me, including fanart. I’ve seen SO much fanart that makes it look like a story I want to check out!!!!!! and then the story I check out is just not anything like what i thought lmao. NOW i know what to expect. and so far its just been the same meh feeling.

Anyway.. That’s kinda about it! Yup..

[agendratum]

me making a tumblr post (in my dream) to tell everyone that i dreamed a war drama that skz starred in (in my dream) so now i can make a tumblr post about that (in real life)

i saw like a bunch of scenes from that drama too, which is how i know all of them starred in it (like that other drama where the whole group starred, i don't remember which one), and i can't say that seungmin's coal mine boy swag didn't influence it happening at all because i'm pretty sure i saw him wearing the exact same clothes as the character in the drama

also when i woke up (in my dream) i went to google it (in my dream) because i was pretty sure that even tho i dreamed it it was based on some real thing that happened (the drama not that war)

[luis-serra-kennedy]

well, I was working on what's supposed to be the final chapter and realized I'm probably going to have to split it up... there's not 9k words of stuff that will actually be posted because it's a rough draft document that includes some duplicate scenes written in different ways and a few scenes that happen offscreen but that I needed to write out just for me to reference, but still, I think even with all that cut it'll be a longer chapter than I wanted for this particular fic. I've done 10k word chapters before, but for a very different fic which felt more suited to long chapters than this one.

my bad because I strayed from my outline and made one subplot way more important and focused on. the final chapter was supposed to mostly be Krauser finally getting some consequences with a tiny bit of domestic Serrennedy, but now it's shaping up to be a lot more domestic stuff. like probably won't be more of the fluff than of the Krauser stuff, but it'll be a lot closer to a 50:50 mix than I had planned.

the Krauser stuff does tie into everything else too, it's not all completely unrelated

[animelover20]

Y'all why the fuck was I going back through my doffy wips after ages and realised that 4 months ago I blacked the fuck out one night at like 3am and wrote 5-6 paragraphs of the most descriptive, heart wrenching thing I've ever read.

AND ITS IN MY NOTES? I WROTE THAT?!

genuinely reading the dialogue pulls at my heart strings(hehe strings anyway-) it's from doffys pov(atleast so far)which makes it a bit strange but holy shit you just get to peak into this man's thoughts in the best way.(It's so sweet too🥲)

I'd describe the story but I don't wanna spoil it. However I may not even post it because I doubt the rest of the story could compare to how poetic the beginning is.

I suck at writing beginnings(it holds me back a lot cause I know what's gonna happen but I can't get there.) but this is the most poetic shit and it actually makes sense,aside from a few very moments where I use the wrong word.

Btw I also have question regarding the end of that. I can't tell whether sleepy brain was correct or I'm correct. Sleepy me said a window was projecting light but shouldn't it be reflecting? Listen I know that's really dumb but google sucks.

I'm sorry for this big ol ramble out of nowhere lmao I just went back and reread my masterpiece and god it's great.

I'm really proud of it,even if I'm the only person to ever see it.

[the-acid-pear]

Why did my cooking dream get hijacked by my brain making a William Afton oc and au what was that about.

[xcziel]

if someone reading post gets interested in the origins, i also highly recommend flipping through these if you can find a copy

and yeah, it's rap - because hip-hop wasn't the term until later on

where it started

and how it's going, just because i love this book from last year:

As someone who grew up living under a rock in the early 2000s and was completely lost on what hip-hop and rap was good until earlier this year I would absolutely support a crash course playlist

Best listened to on shuffle. Very NSFW, including some lyrics from A Different Time. Tried to focus on the essentials and then a few noteworthy personal favorites. Look below the cut for some commentary on what’s what ⬇️

*this playlist is subject to change, and since it’s original posting has already been edited to add Beastie Boys, Salt N Pepa, and MF DOOM

[jellyloveru]

ough. little known book series. ough

[phagodyke]

really horribly anxious this morning and can't seem to shake it off :-(

[peachylynnie]

wine

word count: 1.3k

synopsis: in which sylus is obsessed with your lips.

contains: sylus x mc!reader (not dating because i like tormenting him like that), alcohol consumption, horny sylus (not smut tho), suggestive themes, mentions of violence and blood, and LOTS of cussing.

a/n: i told myself i wouldn't write anything until i finish finals but sylus won. i'm also avoiding his myth spoilers since i didn't pull his pair yet. enjoy reading! do NOT copy or translate my work. sylus does NOT endorse plagiarism.

sylus wants to kiss you right now. he wants to kiss you so fucking badly, it hurts. 

you can't blame the man. you looked absolutely delectable right now. hair up, ears jeweled, eyes hooded, and back bared, oh, you looked so good in the dress he handpicked for you; he could just devour you whole and leave nothing to spare. 

and he would have no remorse for doing so either. the auction you two were at was filled with fucking nobodies. how dare they look at you, let alone breathe the same air as you? he's lost count of how many times he felt the urge to just demolish this shithole of a place. 

sylus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. he knows he's being irrational. after all, he was the one who suggested you two attend this auction. you showed interest in an old manuscript that just so happened to be available only at this auction, and he would be damned if he didn't get you everything you could ever want. hell, you could even ask him for his heart, and he would tear it out of his cold chest, deliver it to your divine feet, get on his fucking knees, and beg for you to demand more of him. 

so, actually, you can blame him for the situation he is in. he was the one who picked the set you're wearing right now oh so ravishingly. he was the one who brought you to this stupid auction that's taking so long to get on with it already—where the fuck is the manuscript? but most importantly, he was the one who made your lips look so damn kissable right now. 

he knew what he was doing when he picked your lipstick for you. deep scarlet that would match his eyes and look good on you. but he never thought it would look this good on you. sylus curses under his breath, feeling his pants tighten around his crotch after remembering you bent over the sink to gaze at the mirror and paint your lips. he recalls how it took him everything not to stride over to you, spin you around, and slam his lips onto yours, hoping to get a smear of that majestic shade. 

oh, but it wasn't just the shade of your lips that drove him crazy. it was the texture, too. you must've been feeling heated because you go to take another sip of the wine in your hand. the matted, creamy lip print you leave on the glass has the silver-haired man inhaling sharply and tightening his grip on the table. what he would give to have such a work of art printed on him instead. he wants it all over him. his face, his neck, his fingertips, his cock—everywhere until no single part of him was unmarked by your luscious lips. until there was no room to even question who he belonged to. 

that's how badly sylus wants to kiss you right now. but he stops himself using the single thread of patience he has left. yes, the two of you were technically alone, standing at the table in the far back. thank god he reserved a table just for the two of you so only he could marvel at your lip-stained glass. no one would interrupt if the two of you were to just have a full-blown make-out session right now.

but sylus knew better. he knew that you were still wary of him. this, you can blame him. after all, he's not a saint. his entire being is smothered in blood, down to the very tip of his designer shoes. he built his lavish empire of protocores and guns from the taking of lives. hell, he even threatened you the first time you met. though, he only did that to push you to your full potential. he could never truly harm you. but sylus knows you. you, in your most beautiful human form, who dwells not only on the past but also on the lives of others. you, whose empathy is so strong, sylus can't help but admire, even though he sometimes wishes you would just let loose and bring hell upon all those who dare to cross you. thus, your continued, empathy-driven wariness of him. but, sylus knows how to compromise. he's okay with being the one with bloodied hands and fucked-up morals so long as it means seeing you, even if it means from afar. besides, you haven't reported him to your little hunter friends yet. he supposes that's a start, and he could settle with that. he could also settle with this: 

"is the wine to your liking, sweetie?" he asks smoothly. 

you flinch, taken aback by sylus' sudden question. you were wondering when he would stop staring at you and actually start paying attention to the auction. not that you mind having sylus' eyes on you. it's just that the borderline depraved look in his crimson eyes was making you feel all hot inside and you really wanted to stop feeling all hot inside whenever you were near him, let alone thinking about him. 

"uh yeah," you nervously chuckle, setting the glass down. "it's better than i thought." you turn your gaze to a waiter nearby, hoping to get a glass for sylus since he seemed so interested in yours for some reason. "here, let me get one for you too." 

you try to catch the waiter's attention by raising your right hand, but sylus stops you. he grasps your hand with his left and rests it on the table. you furrow your eyebrows at him, wondering why he stopped you. sylus, the man who appreciates (that's the nicest way you can describe it) alcohol passing a chance at a complimentary drink? you're utterly confused. 

"no need," sylus gives a gentle squeeze, trying to ease your confusion. though, you're not prepared for what happens next. 

sylus picks up your glass with his free hand, plants his lips on your lip print, and takes a slow sip. your eyes widen, feeling the heat that was coiling in your stomach spread all around your tense body. holy shit, did he just—? 

the aggravating godsend of a man next to you finishes your drink with a satisfied sigh, wiping the garnet droplets from the corner of his lips but not the paint left by yours. "hm," sylus drags his tongue along his lips, a smirk threatening to show. "it is better than i thought."

you flush, seeing your lipstick smudged on sylus' succulent lips. you don’t know what to say. he totally did that on purpose. there's no way he didn't. does this mean the two of you technically kissed-

you don't allow yourself to finish that last thought. you blink rapidly, trying to get your now parched mouth to say something. anything. but you can't. you're completely flustered to the point where all you can do is just gape at sylus with a blush the shade of his eyes tinting your cheeks. 

sylus grins, the tip of his canine peeking out from his now-tainted lips. this is better than he thought. perhaps, he should settle more often if it means getting to see you so cutely aroused and embarrassed like this. though, he knows he won't be able to settle for long. he knows one day, he won't be able to hold himself back anymore. one day, he'll conquer your lips for himself and relentlessly indulge in the real thing. but for now, sylus is content. for now. 

"cat got your tongue, sweetie?" sylus teases, tilting his head to meet your shaky gaze. 

you jerk your head away, trying to get the image of his lips out of your mind. "eyes on the prize, sylus." 

sylus chuckles, but not without placing his elbow on the table and propping his face on his hand to get a better look at you. "oh, my eyes are on the prize, sweetie. my eyes are on the prize." 

[y0-yo-yo]

DCxDP: Amity Park aka uncanny Valley

Who ever thought that a family road trip across the country was ever a good idea? Especially when the family concerned is the Waynes!

...plus a Brown but you can't really talk Waynes without including Stephanie Brown

Bruce had a gala to attend in Chicago during the summer vacation Dick jumped at the opportunity to do a family road trip and try his newest car/van

was putting a Damian Wayne in an enclosed space with a Tim Drake a good idea? No. Was Dick going to argue with Bruce at least thrice a day? Maybe Will Jason be even remotely happy to be part of this trip? Probably not and will all the kids fight to choose who is in charge of the radio? Most definitely, but it'll be fun!

At first everything was awful,Bruce made them wake up terribly early, for once that Tim had slept that night! (albeit for only three hours which was plenty if you asked him) to leave even before the sun was up

Then it became alright, the eight seat car was spacy enough to not get into each other's personal space, everyone started to sing along to music and exchanging playlists

Dick had an awful amount of dico and 80's music, Bruce played his dad rock while Steph and Jason talked white girl music

They started their trip by going through Pennsylvania, taking pictures and joking on how Batman should be a local super hero there instead than in new Jersey,then they headed for Washington DC, it was fun visiting the hall of justice as tourist even tho they all knew the place better than the guides,then they went through Kentucky where Dick really wanted to visit the 'longest cave in the world' and comparing it to the bat cave (Bruce was unimpressed)

And finally they'll drive right through Illinois to get Bruce to Chicago and escape before he tries to get them to join the Gala

And then the car broke down in the middle of nowhere.

The sun would set soon but it was still really hot as we were in early August.

"the GPS say the closest city is a fourty five minutes walk" Annonce Duke while Dick,Tim and Bruce tried to find what's wrong with the car

"We could easily do the journey" Damian says placing a draw two making Steph, too invested in this game of uno with Cass and the demon brat frown

"in this heat!? Do you want us to die of a stroke?" The blond replied placing a plus two as well

"It looks like it's our only choice guys...the car won't start anytime soon better get to a town and buy some new parts" The eldest said from the front of the car

"can't we just call a cab or something?"

Asked Stephanie

"privileged behavior" Duke replied back to back "plus I don't think there's cabs in bumfuck nowhere...I ain't never even heard of 'Amity Park', plus, if they did they wouldn't have eight seat"

"wait Amity Park?" Asked Tim who was swiping grease on a now ruined travel towel "I have family who lives there..." He said thoughtfully

"maybe you can ask them if they have a place to stay for the night? There's only cheap motels in this town and I don't really wanna catch bed bugs" Duke says still on his phone

"oh wow now look who has privileged behavior!" Stephanie snort a smirk on her lips as she add a plus four to Cass's

"uhm can we go back to the part of Tim having living family members? That own a house? Why would you make up one if you had family in the state?" Dick ask "and why do you live with us?" Added Damian because, of course he would

"well... it's not like we talked a lot, I saw them...maybe two times in my life? And they were definitely my parents type of neglectful so going to them wouldn't have changed much"

"...do they also have a kid?" Bruce ask and before he got the chance to talk more he got shut down with a "no you can't adopt more kids!" From all his children

"but yes they do have a kid, we got along great from what I remember...but except sparkly pink dress I don't remember much..." Tim clarified

"I vote we still ask them for a place to stay or at least a ride, if they're Drake's family they should at least have a limousine or mansion no?" Steph asked eager to find a good bed once more

"I don't know...I haven't talked to them much... especially not after my mother's passing...I don't even know if I still have their number" Tim think his voice a little lower, he did think about his mother's sister and her family when he was still living alone in the Drake mansion but thinking back on the blurry memories of being forgotten for hours on end with his cousin didn't really make him want to reach out

"it's okay if you don't want to Timothy, we can find another way" Bruce says in his paternal voice placing a reassuring hand on Tim's shoulder

"no,no it's okay, a call won't hurt right?"

Tim looked through his phone and he, in fact, did have his cousin's number saved, he stepped away from the car to make the call. He was a bit nervous and a bit ashamed, he had a cousin his age that lived in similar conditions as him and he never thought to check up or call,and now that he did it was for a favour, they hadn't talked in over ten years and he couldn't really remember what they were like, hopefully they hadn't grown up like their parents as a stuck up asshole

----------------------------------------------------------

Samantha Manson wasn't a family person,

She didn't care for them,they didn't care for her.

She labeled all her extended family members under "family" as contact names and usually wouldn't pick up when they'd call, not that they did regularly

Yet,she was in a good mood today so when her phone light up and her ringtone rung she picked up

"uhm Hi Sam...antha?... it's Tim- Timothy drake?Wayne? I uhm- our moms are sisters?"

Was the anxious voice that waited for her on the other side of the phone

Huh...

Huh.... Timothy ? Oh fuck Timothy ! Was she a bad cousin to have forgotten one of the only kids her age that she got along with in her family?

Well got along is a big word they just stuck around each other the two times their families were attending the same galla but it was fun for once...if she remembered correctly

It was still a time where he mother was the one dressing her up in those awful sparkly or floral dresses with cutesy hairdo...a goth's nightmare Sam got shivers just thinking back on it

"Yes I remember you Tim Drake...what can I do to help?"

--------------------------------------------------------

"okay so, my cousin say she can come pick us up as long as we don't care for basic road safety?"

Tim said coming back to his family who had all migrated to sit at a picnic table near the car

Jason Dick and Damian who had left for a gas station a few minutes ago to grab some snacks and see if they had anything to fix the car came back at the same time dropping bags of chips, candy and other bar chocolate

The comment about road safety made Bruce frown (hypocrite) but all the other kids could not care less

"so...we're not getting picked up by a limousine? Or is it more of a bus bar type of thing?"

Stephanie ask resulting on her head being bonked by Dick

"no the real question is what's your cousin like?"

"I am not spending a car ride with a snobbyer version of Tim"

Jason added making Damian nod in agreement and Tim roll his eyes

"To be honest, I don't remember much? She didn't sound snobby on the phone?"

Tim guess trying to make a mental image of what Samantha may look now, she probably let her dark chocolate brown hair grow? Or maybe she cut them? Would she still wear floral prints and sparkles? Probably not she hated them as a kid

"and how are her parents?"

Bruce inquired not without warning glares from his kids

"I remember even less! But Sam said they weren't home so..."

"hn"

Bruce narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything

"really all I remember about them is the fakest laugh and sparkly pink dresses"

Tim sighed

"sparkly pink dress? Are you trying to kill my rep?"

A new voice joined in the conversation making everyone at the table jump save from cass who had noticed the presence long ago

All but turned to see this goth girl wearing an all black dress with at least three layers of clothes and even more in accessoires

She smiled at them with teeth a little too sharp for comfort

"hi I'm Samantha Manson, but please call me sam! I hope you won't mind but my car might me a little cramped"

She said in a friendly voice beeping her car key bringing her car, a hearse, back to life radio blasting the latest song she was listening to and making her headlights bath them in light really tieing the whole spooky vibes together

Yeah...the kids are gonna like this girl.

[apple-onigiri]

a distillation of adolescent rage within bonnie

as promised, here's a bit of an analysis of bonnie, specifically of how much their character is defined and fueled by anger, where that anger is coming from, and how much exactly of it is genuine and how much is there just to feel a bit more safe and a bit less confused. because man, bonnie is so well-written, it needs to be talked about more, and this aspect of them is especially handled really well

i also love them deeply, there's that. okay let's go team

to establish the facts: bonnie being angry is really the first thing we learn about them, and what siffrin's first association with them is at the point where we meet the party. it's even in their first memory's description. see? right there.

and i mean, they have a full right to be, don't they? the country is in a crisis. and while they've grown close to the rest of the party, the reason they're traveling with them in the first place is because they had to run away from their town, which they probably don't remember ever leaving beforehand, and leave their sister behind because she got frozen in time.

this is some scary stuff, especially for a kid, whose peace of mind relies on stability and familiarity. any turmoil introduced into even something as small as a daily routine can seriously mess them up, much less a separation from their one trusted guardian and a displacement of such a degree. i shudder to think what their thought process was when they were running from the curse before siffrin spotted them and the party took them in - they must've been so scared. i can't think about that too long or i feel like crying tho let's move on ok

bonnie is obviously mad at the king. they're so angry. well, who wouldn't be? he's the cause of all this. they want vengeance, they want justice, they want to help take him down! and doing only things they're limited to by the adults in the group feels like it's not enough.

this is a bit of a sidenote but this conversation hints at just how anxious bonnie's attachment style is. we know nille ran away with them from home and are given not much detail besides that, if only because bonnie was tiny and doesn't remember much of that, but both the fact that you don't have to remember something for it to shape the way you are and the fact that nille is probably pretty busy keeping both herself and her little sibling alive may be the reasons for bonnie's fear of abandonment and need to be useful

bonnie's entire friendquest stems from them needing to feel like they're contributing more, that's why they ask siffrin to teach them how to fight. and they ask siffrin specifically because they, despite their strained relationship at the moment, hold him in high regard and trust him to say if something is actually off-limits because, in their mind, he doesn't baby them needlessly.

that's rare for a kid, to not be overly coddled.

ok, back on track from the attachment style tangent, rise rise rise where is your rage back on

bonnie is even more mad at the king when they finally are facing him. and he's crying and despairing, and having the gall to act all pathetic. and bonnie can't take that. they have been so brave, keeping it together this entire time, and this guy, the cause of all this despair, dares to act like that? what gives him the right?

kids often default to expressing simpler emotions they can fully process and understand when an unexpected feeling corners them or when their defense system kicks in and deems an emotion too harmful to fully experience; they round up to the closest emotion they can and go with that. bonnie is, of course, angry, but they're also full of fear about everything that's happening that's getting tuned out for their own self-preservation, and they feel a lot of indignation and confusion about this adult that doesn't even have the decency to have his shit together to the same degree bonnie does. bonnie doesn't understand him or why he did what he did, and it feels unfair that they were staying strong and the king can just fall apart like that. but anger is easier, so it all gets rounded to that.

recognizing the layers of bonnie's emotions and how one is caused by another is key to understanding them as a character. but honestly, the king isn't the strongest example we've got to show this, however - siffrin is a better one.

we're introduced to bonnie with them acting distant towards siffrin. only in act 1 are we able to experience what the natural dynamic between those two has been ever since siffrin lost their eye, and it's genuinely a little heartbreaking. it's a lot of siffrin being awkward and jumpy, unsure how to approach bonnie, and bonnie being huffy and disconnected, not really playing into the conversation.

things are tense and neither of them is equipped to diffuse the situation. it's so, so sad because context clues tell us they used to be close - siffrin was the first one to call bonnie "bonbon" but he doesn't do that anymore, bonnie avoids even just eye contact with him, and the way they're acting is clearly something siffrin believes to be a sign of bonnie decidedly not liking them anymore.

(this "being hated" is a surprise tool that will help us later)

while we don't know why things are the way they are at first, we later learn that it's because siffrin doesn't see getting hurt while protecting bonnie as a big deal. and bonnie is upset that he got really, really seriously hurt to the point of losing an eye and he's just waving it off. there's a few things at hand here that go into bonnie's seemingly simple reaction.

the issue here largely comes from siffrin's avoidance of talking about their internal state. because they waved things off, not wanting to talk about it, bonnie didn't have the chance to talk things through either, and process them healthily. the guilt, fear and sadness stemming from someone you care about getting hurt because they kept you safe all go unaddressed.

additionally, there's a cognitive distortion that kids often suffer from where they think everything happening is their fault, even when they were in no way involved in causing it, may play a part here. because their world is just so small, if kids can't pin the blame on something else (since it may be something they're not aware of or too vague), it doesn't compute, so they immediately place the blame on themselves.

there's of course an additional doom spiral of bonnie acting closed off, siffrin taking it as them hating him, and bonnie taking that as siffrin drifting away, and the cycle perpetuating because no one in the party wants to budge into this. everyone is allergic to communication.

the crux of it is, bonnie isn't really angry at siffrin, not in the way they are at the king. it's just easier for their preteen brain to categorize what they're feeling as anger, as a defense mechanism, and point those emotions outwards instead of keeping them inside. it's easier to lash out than regurgitate those feelings and let them eat away at them. so they act out, and scream, and call siffrin stupid.

and we have one than one example of bonnie lashing out with anger because that's the easiest option. it's certainly easier than figuring out what emotions they're exactly feeling and dealing with them without admitting they're a kid that doesn't understand how to do it alone.

among them is of course the way they act when they overhear the others talking about what to do if anyone dies, and the connected rotten adults event. after that safe room, bonnie is remarkably closed off, and if you go to the poem room, they read the book on funerary rites and then pointedly pretend to not do so when asked what they're doing.

it's an incredibly exemplary interaction, i think. because they're surprised, we get an almost step by step for their thought process, and it goes a bit like this:

i didn't mean for you to see me look at this and i want you to not know about it -> stop talking like you know what i was doing because i don't want you to know about it -> i want you to think it's nothing important so that you're not more interested -> i'll tell you i'm okay because that may make you think you don't need to look -> it's not working, so i'm going to tell you directly to stop looking at what i'm doing, or at me, because, again, i don't want you to know i'm in distress -> i'm feeling a lot of things so i need to expel them in some way, "shut up" -> this is isn't working, i need to deflect and give you something else to focus on

this avoidance and giving over the reins to anger instead of processing anything is something bonnie resorts to a lot when overloaded by a lot of different emotions they can't deal with

in bonnie's mind, talking about it is bad because it's distressing, and scary, and makes them think of awful scenarios they don't want to come true, and not talking about it means not feeling all that, and that's surely better. there's also that defense mechanism at work, the externalizing of negative emotions and pointing them outward instead of letting them hurt the inside. and it kicks in on full throttle when siffrin tries to comfort bonnie.

anyone who's been in an adolescent age in their life can recognize this emotion. wanting someone to just go away, leave you alone, stop talking about something or doing something. to bonnie, if you don't talk about something, it's not real, and siffrin comforting them a. anchors the cause of their state in reality, b. confirms they don't have everything together because they needed comforting in the first place. and that's no good! so they act out. it's like a deimatic behavior, a tactic to scare off something that you would otherwise have no choice but to give in to. they're not unlike a cat hissing and puffing up to seem bigger. you know those spicy kitten videos where they just do firecracker noises at a human hand closing in on them? yeah.

and it works!! to an inordinate degree because the object of it was siffrin who a. is extremely prone to believing people hate him, b. entered a time loop because he cares so much about these people and staying with them. told you that surprise tool would come back. in bonnie's defense, people usually don't rewind time when you do that, and just back off until your emotional state is calm enough that you can talk without feeling like imploding.

it's alright, siffrin just needs enough time to assemble their own thoughts before approaching bonnie again. and when he does, we see how to overcome the obstacle of an adolescent attempting to avoid a conversation concerning unpleasant feelings.

siffrin just gives bonnie space to experience those big feelings safely and explains calmly why something happened in the first place. when they try to avoid a conversation, he just gives them time to think about it instead of giving them any sort of pep-talk, and they talk it out calmly, and make a promise to reassure bonnie that they're both gonna keep each other safe. siffrin genuinely does a remarkable joke here. no one does it better than them nothing awful will ever happen. fans of love and friendship don't think too hard about end of act 3

to drive the point home, we get a bit of an awful reprise of bonnie lashing out as a self-defense tactic in act 5 because they're overwhelmed by just how upset siffrin made them by risking getting hurt on purpose just so they could be stronger. they do the same thing as before, resorting to throwing out hurtful words to scare off the source of all those intersecting negative feelings, and, since they can now, run away.

it needs to be understood that bonnie is not a kid pointlessly angry at nothing in particular and everything around them. their anger is in direct response to too many things happening at once and them having trouble processing all of it, and instead resorting to simplifying their emotions into one very primal one, and expelling it outwards in a form of them lashing out. they're going through an already confusing time of changes you're forced to go through during your adolescence - and a national curse-related crisis is not helping. when given the tools and space to process in an environment they feel is safe, they're not nearly as wrathful.

i guess the tl;dr is this - while they have a bit of a fiery personality and some of their rage is fully justified, bonnie for the most part acts out in anger because it feels like it's keeping them safe and allowing them to not bottle in things that are too confusing to them; it's already a scary world out there for a preteen entering the world of more complex emotions, and being far away from your sister and mid-way through a national crisis is making it even worse.

it might be a bit less noticeable because they spend most of the game upset at siffrin, so we don't see a lot of their sweeter side in one-on-one conversations as much, but honestly, they're such a sweet kid. so cute too, they're extremely endearing. it's no wonder the party is hell-bent on protecting them no matter what.

[salemsuccss]

~Oh Baby~

[Synopsis]

You and Paige have been together for about 4 months. However, you have a problem…you think you're too freaky for Paige.

Boy are you wrong-

[Warnings]

Smut!, wattpad mentioned, choking, bdsm, light slapping, nipple play, strap refered to as cock or dick(so not sorry), munch P, porn with plot, both Paige and reader being freaked out, cursing duh

“I just don't know how to bring up my kinks with her. She makes me feel at peace, but I don't want to scare her off.”

You sigh as you talk to your best friend, Mavis, on facetime.

“Girl just bring it up to her. You read all this smut, yet you're this shy about telling Paige.”

A laugh bubbles out of you before you quiet down, 

“It's not the same, though. I can't place it. But it's like she knows I'm weird in nature, but what if this is the last straw?” 

You look away from your phone, fiddling with your fingers as a bit of anxiety flows through you.

“Hey I get it, but just sit down and talk with her. I mean, what could go wrong? You saw that ‘ptpom’ video. You have a whole freak in your apartment.”

“Oh my god, Mavis, shut up,” you crack up, disappearing from the frame, “You know I still have that video saved.”

As you laugh and gossip with Mavis, you miss the front door to your apartment opening. Having forgotten that Paige was gonna come to your place straight after practice. 

Paige places her practice bag on the floor by the door and kicks her shoes off by the door. She calls out for you, brows furrowing when you don't answer. But she perks up as she hears your laugh. She starts walking to your room, stopping halfway there as she hears you on the phone.

“Oh my god, do you remember that one wattpad fic I sent you like years ago, it set the tone for half my kinks.” Mavis asks in a fit of giggles.

You ponder for a second before laughing, “Fuck yeah I do, it was that…that wlw one! Where she's using a strap on her girl, one hand choking her, the other playing with the pretty shibari she had her wrapped in.” 

You sigh, looking up dreamily, reminiscing the old fic.

“Ohh then she drops that line, ‘you sound so good on my dick baby, want me cum in you hmm? Want me to breed your pretty self?’ Mm mm mmm lives rent-free in my head. Still got that shit saved.” 

You look back down at the facetime as it gets quiet, locking eyes with Mavis. “Yeah you're freaked out.” You both throw yourselves around laughing. 

A few thoughts run through Pages head as she slowly backs up from the hall: 

One, ‘The fuck is wattpad?’

Two, ‘How freaky is her nerdy lil gf?’

Three, ‘Do I have time to get rope?’

She paces a bit in your kitchen before deciding to just knock on your door.

You jump a bit as you hear a knock. Looking back, you see Paige in the doorway. Squealing, you say your byes and hang up on Mavis before sprinting to the door and pulling your baby into a hug.

Paige puffs out a laugh before hugging you back with just a touch more energy. “Hey baby, you miss me?”. You pull away from her chest with a pout, “Almost parished without you.” You place a kiss on her lips before pulling away.

“When did you get here?” 

Your girlfriend pauses before answering, “About 10-15 minutes ago, heard you on the call. Didn't want to bother you,” she shrugs before continuing, “the call seemed interesting tho.” 

You pause, eyes not quite meeting hers, “What do you mean interesting, how much did you hear?” Paige finds your eyes before stepping towards you, a dangerous smirk spreading across her pretty face. 

“Oh just enough.”

You step back, the back of your thighs just touching your bed. Thighs rubbing together oh so slightly, which Paige catches, bringing a glint to her eye. 

She pushes you to sit on the bed, carefully, a soft display of dominance. Eyes blowing wide at the small gasp you let out. She grabs your jaw soft but firm, 

“What goes on in that pretty little head, honey? Just pure nasty, baby.”  

Your heart stops for a sec, how much did Paige actually hear…there's no way right? Paige studies your face, catching the look of disbelief. 

“You wanna know what I heard when I first walked up to your door?” You nod, displeasing your girlfriend.

“Words [y/n].” Her tone is sharp as her grip on your jaw tightens. 

“Yes!” The word falls from your lips softly as you hold back a soft moan.

“Good girl, knew you'd be so obedient for me. Anyways, I heard you talking about that Wattpad fic Mavis had sent you.” She watches as your eyes widen. 

“All this time, I've been treating you so nicely in bed, like a princess. I should have been treating you like a slut.” She releases her hand off your jaw to reach in-between your thighs, forcefully opening them. Her hands slowly inching to where you need them, her eyes watching you tremble beneath her fingertips.

You let out a gasp, blush filling your face as you look away. Arousal flooding your panties, thankfully not showing through your shorts...yet.

“I didn't want you to think I was too freaky since I'm already weird. I thought it would be too much for you.” You feel her hands stop her eyes locking with yours, as she stands between your legs. She lifts you off the bed before turning and sitting on the bed herself, letting you straddle her. 

Her gaze was sharp as if you offened her, “You are perfect baby. I love how weird you are. That's what made me want to get to know you. Let's just talk about it, okay, before I ravage you, yeah?” 

Nodding, a few tears prick at your eyes as you take in her words. You kiss her before speaking, “I don't know where to start but I'm not into anything too extreme. I like choking, nipple play, light slapping, degradation/praise ofc, there's more but yeah.” Paige nods, hands caressing your ass before gripping your luscious thighs.

“Nothing I can't work with. Let's get started, hm?” She stands and throws you on the bed. Before you can even let out a gasp, she's on you. Legs between yours, leaving marks down your neck, hands grabbing at your tit's.

"Don't tell me you're still shy baby, let out those pretty moans for me." Paige nips at a certain spot on your neck, causing you to throw your head back, a loud moan leaving your lips.

"That's my girl." Her lips crash into yours, pure lust running behind her actions. A hand finds its way around your neck, adding just the right amount of pressure to make your hips buck up.

She pulls away from you, pupils blown wide. "Hold on pretty girl." She quickly pulls off your oversized shirt, tossing it into the ether. A soft moan tumbles out of her lips at the sight of your bare tit's. Giving them a quick kiss, she moves further down, taking your shorts with her.

She settles between your legs, planting a small kiss that makes your thighs tremble. "Look at that. You're soaking, baby." Her eyes lock with yours as she slides a lone finger down your covered clit.

You let out a soft moan as you throw your head back, "Paige, please." She laughs shaking her head, "Normally I'm easy for you but I wanna push you to your limits."

She grabs your panties, her favorite lilac ones, ripping them, "Few rules while I'm down here. Don't look away from me, don't come unless I say so, and keep those pretty legs open." You nod causing her to slap your thigh. "Fuck. Yes Paige!" You let out a shaky breath, concealing a moan.

"Good girl." Holding your gaze she licks a stripe through your folds before digging in, tongue dipping into your needy cunt. Paige lets out a moan, savoring your taste. She sits up a bit, placing you into a mating press, her lips never leaving your cunt, arms locking around your thighs. Paige is out of it. On the verge of pussy drunk, making out with your clit. Holding you firmly no matter how much you thrash and sob out.

"Paige fuck please, need to cum." You sob out, a few tears leaving your eyes. Your hand is tangled in her hair, pulling every time she slurps it just right. Paige locks eyes with you, looking over your already wrecked state.

She nods, "You can cum." Just like that she digs back in, wrapping her lips around your clit. She lets one of your legs down, sliding her hand to play with your boob's. Hand grabbing your tit, squeezing it before pinching your nipple between her fingers. The combination of her playing with your nipple and sucking your clit, gives you the hardest orgasm yet. Your back arches as you cum, squirt glazing Paiges mouth and chin.

She gives your clit a few licks while you ride your high. She pulls back from your legs, stripping off her shirt, leaving her in a Nike sports bra. "I've never squirted before." You whisper out, voice slightly gone, body trembling from time to time. Paige eats that sentence up.

Ego soaring, "Bet I can make you do it again." Before you can even sit up, she grabs your ankles, flipping you over. You let out a gasp, but don't protest about how rough she's being. "This is our first time with kinks involved, so imma let you pick."

She pulls your hips up, laying one hand on your back, pushing you to arch. Being the good girl you are, you stay perfectarched as she gets off the bed. You hear some ruffling before feeling the bed sink again.

"I can either cuff you while you take this strap or you keep your palms flat on the bed." She continues before you can open your mouth. "But if you move your hands behind you at all, I will stop." That causes you to whine, hating the idea but loving a challenge.

You reach your arms out, palms down, "I want the second one." Paige, let's out a pleased hum, fully kneeling behind you. Her hands grab your ass, admiring how it jiggles before sliding her right hand down to play with your clit. That pulls a whine from your lips as you shake your hips for more. A swift slap is laid on your hip, "Needy fucking slut."

She swiftly fills your sloppy cunt with 2 fingers. Pulling a breathy moan out of you. She curls them, hitting your spot with practiced ease. She slides her other hand down to rub your clit, quickly pulling another orgasm out of you. Curling her fingers a few more times, she pulls them out, bringing them to her mouth. Moaning at the taste before pulling them out with a pop. "Delicious baby, you ready for more or are you gonna tap out?"

You could hear the cockiness in her voice. Her tone makes your walls flutter. "Need more, need your cock, please." Paige stills for a second, feeling herself leak around the dual pleasure strap. "Fuck, how can I say no baby, You sound so fucked out already." She smacks your ass as she watches your cum run onto the sheets. Tapping the head of the strap onto your puffy clit, she savors the desperate whine that fall out your pretty lips.

Slowly she slides the strap into your sopping wet cunt, splitting you open on all 8 inches. "Remember the red light system and to keep those plams down." Paige doesn't even give you a chance to respond before pulling out to the tip and thrusting to the hilt. The tip hits your spot just right causing a sob like moan to push past your lips.

Paige doesn't let up on you, her hips snapping into your ass with inhumane speed. All you can do is take it, fingers curling into the sheets. "Fuck baby you're gripping me so tight. Taking it so well." Her hands come down to slap your ass, eyes hazy from how well the strap is hitting her spot just right.

"Paige fuck! I'm so close." Her strap is assaulting your cunt, your cream sticking to the base. Moans and calls of her name spill from your lips, mixing with her own delicious moans and whines.

Paige feels herself getting close. She hooks a muscular arm around your torso, pulling you flush to her chest. Her other arm locks you in place with a hand clasped around your throat. You let out a sob from the pleasure, her cock grinding into your spot as she marks along your neck.

"That's it baby, you like this shit huh. Fuck [y/n]!" She tucks her head into your neck, moaning and whining in your ear. "Fuck I'm gonna fill this pussy up. Want me to breed you huh? You gonna take it like a good slut." She grabs out, her hips speeding up, absolutely out of it.

Your eyes roll back as you squirt all over her cock, a silent scream falling from your plush lips. Paige cums with a whine in your ear, her hips bucking into you as she rides her high.

She gently lays you back down before pulling out of you and falling beside you. Hand coming up to caress your back, grounding you as you come down. Pulling you into her chest, she kisses your forehead softly. "You did so good for me pretty girl." You nod in her chest as she plays with your curls. A yawn escapes your lips as Paige gets up to clean yall up.

You snuggle into her after placing a few kisses on her face and lips. Both of yall tuckered out for the night.

I barely read through this um🚶🏾‍♀️

[themoonwitch-mustspeak]

they're in love your honor

Sweet dreams are made of this✨🐳

[amethystheartsx]

Love Built with Frozen Hands.

Hey!!! in the middle of my health issues and family problems I finally managed to churn out this request. yippe! tho it was rushed i am sorry. This was requested by anon, I hope was up to whatever standard you held me on. hope you like it

contains: SFW, Mild Angst (hurt/comfort), non!mcreader. established relationship. Synopsis: au where Zayne is aware of the past lives he went through, remembers the pain of the toxic cycle Astra put him through, He victoriously breaks it this once in this timeline, to forge a path of happiness for him and mc in separate ways, and ends up falling for you. but sometimes, the ghost of the past comes to haunt you back by targeting what you built from scratch with such devotion

It is one thing to be unloved, and a whole nother thing to be loved half-heartedly.

The yearning to have someone who is supposed to be yours, pining after affection that should be promised to you, and craving the attention that should have never been taken away from you in the first place, it was all too cruel; the worst part? You can't even talk about it to anyone, at least not without sounding insecure....feeling insecure. How are you even supposed to talk about it? How do you tell people that your boyfriend pays just a bit more attention to her? Just a little more care than you like. 

are you listening to yourself, she have a terrible heart condition. he is her doctor

The word had rang in your ear one too many times, always making your head hang low in shame. Her doctor, her childhood friend, and the last of something she could hold on to as an anchor.

She had lost so much Caleb and her grandma; she had been through hell and back and still came out stronger than ever, and you couldn't even get over your jealousy?

Did zayne really deserve a partner like you? Or should he be with someone like her.

You did your best. Yes, you did, treating her with the respect she deserved, always keeping a polite demeanor, and never receiving her with a cold attitude. Endurance was a trait that felt like a curse to you but you managed for him, but you were only human.

Zayne had been gone for a whole day now. Mind you, it was one of his rare days off that you had planned to.use for some quality time, but before you could inform him, he informed you that he would be going out with her. Apparently, she had found a place that still sold his favorite Popsicle, one he thought was discontinued, and he looked so genuinely excited you did not have the heart to tell him your plan which was less thought full in comparison, because let's face it, she must have put some extra effort to find that place didn't she?.

If only you could have thought of something with deeper meaning like that, then maybe you would have been the reason behind the sparkle in his eyes.

—--

After throwing yourself a pity party, you decided to fall asleep and get over it. When Zayne did return he found the house quiet and dim which was unlikely, your not staying up till he came back never really happened before, he saunters to the room and sees you asleep, safe and sound in the bed as far as possible from his side as possible, but Jayne thought nothing of it because of course you could just be tired from the day or upset he got so late and slept early, he was sure things would be normal when the sun rises again...but of course, it didn't. They only changed for the worse.

Zayne may not be good with emotions, but actions, he knew very well. Since he was a doctor no little physical detail missed him. The way your kiss didn't linger, felt more like an obligation than an act of love. The way your smile didn't reach your eyes when you saw him return. How conversation got shorter and shorter with each passing day. He noticed how you wouldn't bend and twist your schedule to fit his. Trying to catch each and every available second he had amidst his grueling work hours. How you had started being focused on creating a space for your own, and as much Zayne loved seeing you do well for yourself and focus on yourself and having time for yourself, he wished to be at least a part of it somehow.

On evenings when you both just coexist in the living room doing your respective work, you would sometimes stop doing whatever you were doing just to stare at him with an adoring look till you get scolded by a flustered Zayne, and only then would you go back to work with a dreamy sigh. But now it was only just the endless sound of typing or pen scratching on papers. No jokes, no banters just sounds that turned mechanical after a while.

When it reached to the point zayne could no longer deny that things were not good between you and him, he started to panic.

Being the way he was he doesn't outright confront you but often tries to give you openings to talk about your feelings,

"Hey you have been quiet, is everything alright".

"Eye bags again? aren't you sleeping well?"

"Maybe we could do to cafe together and...talk"

Only to be shut down by you again and again.

Zayne wanted to give you space, respect your privacy but damn it he was going insane. Whenever mc will see him distressed and take him out he barely would have things to say to her and if he did it would be about if he was good enough to be a partner, was there something wrong with him was he just...unlovable?

And each time MC will try to help him, make him understand that it wasn't true, but there was so much she could do. She noticed how Zayne would leap to his phone when it chimed with a specific ringtone he had set for you, a glimmer of relief in his eyes every time he would read your text, no matter how mundane it was, or even short and dismissive. At least...they were some spared words from you.

Zayne came late after a long shift; he hated being used to the silent house again; he hated the lack of warmth in his sheets. The lack of the little sounds you made throughout the day. Whether it be the sound of you humming, talking and gossiping with a friend, your laugh, you working in the kitchen or just dumping weeks worth of information on him, he missed it all so terribly he could not help himself. Not tonight. He finds you on your side of the bed again, as far from his side as possible. He had just showered and changed, slipping in the covers and shifting close to you, lying so he had an arm on your waist, holding you while trying to respect the space you created as much as he had in his heart to take. With deep breaths, he speaks, mostly to lighten the load on his chest

"I- I don't where I have been wrong, but I wish to undo it, unlearn the behavior that had made you so out of my reach. Please yell at me, confront me with my wrong g doings, and hold me accountable...just-just don't shut me out, darling," he choked in a sob, taking a deep breath before closing his eyes and allowing his exhaustion to engulf him to his slumbers with a pained frown on his face. After all, the nightmares he had were nothing compared to suffering from your distance through the day.

Unbeknownst to him, you weren't asleep; you mostly never were. Hoping for something, anything from him, just like tonight. You were unable to move or say something back then but tears that slipped from your eyes reminded you of the beating heart in your chest that still ached for him. The night goes by in a blur; sleep has dripped away alongside those tears, and yet when the morning sun arrives, you keep your eyes closed and pretend to be asleep when he wakes up and shuffles around. Zayne shifts and lifts his weight on his elbow; you can feel his sharp gaze on you; knowing how keen his observation was, you were aware that he knew you were faking your slumber, a pretense to keep him away, to avoid a conversation that would turn to confrontation inevitably. With a heavy sigh, he gets up to prepare himself for yet another day.

You could hear him shower, brush and get dressed. Just when you expect to hear the click of the bedroom door closing behind him, the mattress dips under his weight as he sits next to your sleeping form, those sharp eyes on you once again; one cold hand cups your cheek, rubbing the skin under your eyes.

"I miss you, my love"

His words, though short and simple, carried the weight of his emotions he couldn't express and you almost almost gave in.almost reached back to him but something kept you bound, frozen in place. zayne leans down to kiss your forehead making your pulse quicken but before his lips could make contact with your skin, he pulls away.

zayne was no longer sure if you even wanted him to kiss you, had you had enough of it? Were you done with his kisses? done with him?.

These thoughts made his mind spur, tightening his chest with unbridled feelings he couldn't decipher. He had to get out before he did something uncharacteristically stupid, and so he did. leaving you behind with your own set of conflicting thoughts and whirlwind of emotions.

Why did he back away? Why didn't he kiss? did he finally let go of what little he was holding, after realizing it wasn't worth the hassle? that you weren't worth it?

The thoughts got so overbearing, and you had to remind yourself of the words he spoke last night, things he said that reflected what he wanted, and he wanted her to talk to him, explain what she was feeling, good or bad, and so she decided to do just that.

----

When Zayne was at work he texted you to let you know he would be home early, you noticed how he updated you frequently now about his day no matter how small and irrelevant the detail was he would let you know about it any chance he got. so on your way back you picked up some macaroons from a cafe that opened a few weeks ago, excitement bubbles in your chest to try it out with him. You also sent him a very quick text.

"I'll be home soon too, we need to talk"

Maybe it was because you were carrying too much in your hand, or trying to get away from the crowds of people. You failed to notice the tone of your text that had Zayne freaking out.

The words he never wanted to hear from you, bringing all his fears to life, once again being left alone, abandoned and forgotten.

To wither away without a cause, no one left to mourn the loss.

It was true his soul had loved another in multiple lives, a love fated to face the same demise.

Until he broke to toxic cycle that only hurt him and *her*. Endured and moved on from the pain to find someone he could love and be loved back without the suffering, or so he had thought.

He loved her, he truly did, but now he questioned himself: was it enough, enough to hold her back from flying away from his grasp? Or did he lose his final chance at happiness? She was the beacon of hope, the reward for passing his trials. He never knew loving could be easy, but now he knew that it was easy because you made it so; your selfless love and abundant Care were what made this relationship his safe heaven. If only he had realized that before being on the brink of losing that little beacon he held dearest than he thought.

----

As the storm brewed inside his heart his evol spirals out of control, by the sheer luck of his stars none other than MC was there, for her regular check-up that turned into a therapy session for both of them, she was there when he got the text, seeing her age-old friend who as always so collected and composed lose his mind.

She did what any other friend would do and took him home, trying to console him, but how does one console the man who was always the pillar for others to lean on? Mc stares as she sees him crumble.

This was the love they warned her about.

One way or another she managed to put him at rest. Tears formed in her own eyes to see him so miserable, and she rested her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around in a gentle embrace; a familiar scent and touch calmed Zayne down. Her soft voice begged him not to give up like this and to fight for what he loved. It wasn't you as he wished but at least it was something.

"Am I interrupting something?" Their heads snapped to the direction of the entrance, where you stand,  a little box in your hand and some freckles of snow dusted on your hair. An adorable look tainted by the cold expression on your face.

"Darling I..." Zayne gets up as if MC suddenly stabbed him, his long strides eating up the distance. "It's not what it looked like," MC speaks before Zayne can feel the need to clear the air as quickly as possible; as a woman, she could sense the distrusting gaze you gave them.

"...right" you reply in a flat tone barely sparing a glance in her direction, your eyes fixed on him.

"I-I you wanted to talk to me," says Zayne, who had almost crashed into you, to hold you close against his chest before noticing your distant demeanor. Stepping away from him and walking last Mc you made your way to the kitchen

"Hmm I do" you place the box macaroons on the kitchen island and the pair Insta toy follows you there as well. "Oh-it's from the new cafe? These are really good? No, they are my favorite" he makes a desperate attempt for conversation that doesn't send him spiraling again.

"Have you tried it already? It just open not too long ago"

"Yes, me and MC, we-"

"Of course"

Your tone was a little too bitter when you snapped, a sharp glare in her direction. "Of course, you already tried it, both of you. Together. As always," you chuckled, but there was no humor in it.

Mc steps forward "No, no you get this wrong it was just a long day for Zayne and  I just-"

"Forgot that he has a girlfriend who also wishes to spend time with him?" You finish for her, making her pale. She opens her mouth to defend herself before Zayne steps in front of you, blocking your view. You look up to meet his unreadable eyes. "This is between us. No need to drag her in, it's me you are mad at., Not her," Zayne says, bringing your attention back to him.

"Not a part of this? Zayne the problem *Is* the fact she has been dragged in way too many times? The problem is the fact that there is a crowd. "You finally say the words after holding them in for so long.

"Listen I never meant to"

"I don't care what you meant too" you snap yet again, taking the other girl by surprise. You had never used this tone with her, not once.

"I- feel for you...MC, I want you to be happy. I want you to have the best, a prince, maybe someone famous, hell, even a mafia overlord if that's what you're into." Tears brim in your eyes as you speak. Would it be crazy to add that you wished for a miracle and have Caleb returned?

Just so he could sweep her off her feet and far away from *your man*.

"But can it not be my zayne"  the way your voice broke at the end made the other woman's face soften, the hurt, the pain and the fear of abandonment did not miss her. She was at loss for words opening and closing her mouth before zayne spoke up.

"You need to leave"

The words sank your heart into the deepest pits of despair, wordlessly you grab your bag with a shaky hand before it flies away before you can even hold it, you look up to Zayne who had taken the bag away "I didn't mean you, this is your home" his voice no matter how cool it was at the moment, his eyes made it clear he wanted her to stay. MC didn't want anything more than to leave anyway. She quickly grabbed her bag and aimed for the door. Her feet paused, and she once again turned halfway to face her and spoke, "I am sorry, I really am; I never meant to cause any trouble. He was never mine to even try and take." Before you could even process the words, she was gone.

The silence she left in her wake was deafening.

"Is that what you have been so distant? Because of her?" Zayne breaks the silence. You tried to turn away, but he held you right in your place. "No, you are done trying to get away from me." his assertive voice had an underlying tone that resembled a humble pleading. "There is so much a person can take, and I am at the brink of my own patience." He spoke, but you still pulled away and created distance. "It's not like I wanted to; it's just that's just...." You gulp, taking a deep breath; how dare he stand there questioning when he was the reason for the pain you felt? "You treat her the way I wished you'd treat *me*!"

Your statement made his eyes widen just a little for you to notice. Now that you had started it was time to let it all out, you didn't give him a chance to defend himself raising your voice a notch "you know how I feel like zayne? A place holder. Any moment she says the word and I'll be discarded and forgotten like I never existed for you and-and I know the technicalities alright, her primary physician her childhood friend I know, I know it all" the frustration made speaking a little difficult, heaving a shaky breath makes your voice breaks "but do you remember that in the middle of it all you are something of mine as well!?" Zayne knew words had an impact, but he wasn't aware they could make you bleed.

something of yours as well

His jaw fell slack that he had been clenching so hard. Zayne always felt greedy for defying fates to find you, take you and love you all on his own. Only now he realized he had gotten too greedy, for wanting to keep you and Her in the same boat.

You open your mouth but was silenced by his fingers on your lip, “i apologise if that's how i made you feel, if i gave you the reason to doubt my intentions and sincerity, i take accountability for the fact you felt unloved by me” even if his voice was calm as ever but the shaky breaths he took in the middle of the sentences gave him away.

He knew what had to be done, needed to be done, to keep you by his side as he intended, but he won't deny the fact a part of him was hurt by the fact you would think like that about him if you only knew the forces he had defied to be with you. Zayne took a step closer, holding your shoulders, his cold hands gripped you firmly. "Is that what you think you are to me?" He says gulping down the anger that bubbled in his chest. "A placeholder." The word felt like poison on his tongue. "Just a warm body to hold during cold nights? You think that's what you are to me?” He was more hurt than angry, but in hindsight, he could see that she was not in the wrong to assume due to his own actions, but…she could at least talk to him.

Zayne was nervous, to be more specific, scared.

Right now you were too stunned to speak, the man in front of him was yours, but you had rarely seen him be this vulnerable in front of you. All his life he had thought that to protect your dearest you must always appear strong in front of them, reason why even now he was doing his very best to be composed even if he was hanging by the last thread. The reason he would sometimes let his guard down in front of her but not you. 

Because now that he had mastered his own fate, his dearest was not her. It was you.

You allowed him to speak since it was a rare occurrence, something you had tried to pry out of him but failed many times, till you gave up.

“To make your space is okay, to avoid confrontation till you are ready is valid and to hate me for my actions is also fair but…to change” He chokes a sob, and there it was, the tiny crack. “To shut me out completely is not okay, to assume the worst about someone is not right and-”he takes another shaky breath “and to change the trajectory of our relationship on your own…that's just cruel”.

You could see the remorse under the pain, a glimmer of hope in those accusatory eyes. Reaching out to him, you cup his cheeks; Zayne leans into your touch, lower lip trembling ever so slightly; it had been weeks since you touched him like this, so tenderly. “Zaynie.” The sound of his name from your lips, rolling down with such affection, was the last straw before his tears streamed down his face, just a few that turned into tiny and delicate snowflakes on his skin before they disappeared the moment they dripped down from his chin.

“I am sorry” you both say in unison making you giggle just a little, but him? Not so much.

“She means something to me, yes. And i do care about her” zayn's word felt unsavory to you given the circumstances. He leans down sharp green eyes boring into your “But you” he breathes “but you are my everything. I love you, my sweet girl” zayne doesnt waste a second to kiss you, not one of those soft pecks you had given him, a real kiss. One he had been craving for so long now. He pushes you into the counter gently. Making sure you were steady on your step. When you both pull away breathless, he presses a peck on your forehead.

“You shouldn't be sorry-” this time you silenced him, with a kiss. “My turn now.” you say to which he just nodded, a little too flustered to speak anyway. “I am sorry i avoided the problem instead of solving, but i was scared, scared that if i push it too far and it comes down to it, you will choose her over me” you couldn't meet his eyes when you said that. Zayne grabs the wrist of your hand that was on his cheek and pulls you flush into his chest and wraps his arm around your waist .

If only you knew that he had chosen you such a long time ago.

“I missed you so much. Please, don't ever make me feel alone again.” Your voice was still a little breathy from the kiss, and it was making his head spin, but he knew he had to control there was still a lot to actually discuss. “And I missed you, darling,” he sighs; he doesn't let go, though, resting his chin on your shoulder while your face is nuzzled into his chest. Just basking in each other's presence. “I promise I will do better, Let's talk things out, yeah. We can set whatever boundaries you want to have. There is nothing I won't do just to keep you by my side, love; you are the destiny I choose for myself”.

As much as you know your relationship needs work, on both ends. His sincere words made you assured the love you wove together, would keep you warm for a long time.

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho

[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe

For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones. 

You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out. 

It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago. 

Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.  

Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves. 

“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly. 

“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign. 

He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.” 

He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.” 

Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him. 

You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.” 

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.” 

He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom. 

“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.” 

“Hey, it’s good.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”

“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you). 

“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question. 

The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change. 

Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet. 

“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn. 

“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face. 

“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck. 

“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on. 

“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.

Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.” 

“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.” 

Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him. 

“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?” 

You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it. 

“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones. 

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu. 

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.” 

“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…” 

“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”

He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.” 

Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?” 

“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.

“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble. 

“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.

Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”

Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.” 

“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot. 

“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?” 

“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?” 

Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.” 

That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds. 

“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.

“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”

“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you. 

“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.” 

Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep. 

The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing. 

You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.

“Never knew you read.” 

“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding. 

You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”

He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”

Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you. 

“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.

“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?” 

You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”

“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.” 

“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”

“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down. 

“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu. 

“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”

“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb. 

“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.

“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.

“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.

“And believe you instead?” 

Oh, you wish.

Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him. 

“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.” 

He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it. 

“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.” 

Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode. 

“How far are you with that one?” 

“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.” 

He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him. 

“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave. 

“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check. 

By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone. 

It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though. 

[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: i got to chap 20  [You]: what [You]: how [Mingyu]: started reading when i got home [Mingyu]: and then i got to 20 [Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter [You]: you think? [You]: was it that good [Mingyu]: couldnt put it down [Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing  [You]: you know where to find me when you wake up

The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon. 

Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone. 

You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better. 

There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. 

The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still. 

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did. 

Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you. 

“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.

“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies. 

“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips. 

Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole. 

It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”

You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.” 

“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”

“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets. 

“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”

Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.

More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought. 

That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.  

Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait. 

The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.

It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly. 

“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression. 

“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish. 

But you don’t. 

“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?” 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back. 

“Did you drive like this?” 

“Uh, no, I walked.”

“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”

“Wanted to see you.”

It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard. 

“Had to talk about the book.”

Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”

He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”

You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store. 

“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”

He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?” 

“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.” 

By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before. 

“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”

“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.” 

“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”

Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him. 

He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?” 

Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”

“Why?” 

“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone. 

The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee. 

“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck. 

“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.” 

“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him. 

“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”

“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently. 

“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in. 

“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter. 

“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time. 

He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb. 

“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly. 

“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth. 

Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed. 

“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth. 

It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die. 

Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time. 

“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter. 

You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”

He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.

It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night. 

You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank. 

It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer. 

If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.

There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar. 

They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though. 

“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table. 

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies. 

Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face. 

Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.” 

“It’s not about that.” 

Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”

Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”

“Better?”

 “She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”

Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”

“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”

“Easy?”

“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.” 

It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him. 

His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”

“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”

He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.

“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing. 

“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.

Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.” 

“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder. 

“Yeah…”

“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly. 

“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth. 

“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.” 

Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.

“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid. 

Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”

“You hate living in peace.”

“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—” 

“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry. 

He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence. 

Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.

“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —” 

“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table. 

Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.

“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.” 

“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late. 

“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.” 

Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff. 

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts. 

“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.

“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up. 

By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.

Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off. 

He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?” 

“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow. 

“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies. 

“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.” 

“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you. 

“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly. 

“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”

The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long. 

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware. 

He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you. 

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament. 

Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start. 

You really needed a new car. 

Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head. 

Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run). 

So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down. 

The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead. 

“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”

She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave. 

“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing. 

“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.  

“That’d be great actually, thank you.” 

Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.

You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you. 

Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day. 

You had forgotten your book. 

It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry. 

You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day. 

What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day. 

Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day. 

You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.  

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities. 

Was he uncomfortable with you? 

Was he avoiding you? 

Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him? 

The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were. 

Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying. 

[Mingyu]: hey  [Mingyu]: are you at work today?  [You]: yeah  [You]: i get off at 10 tho  [Mingyu]: can i see you today? 

You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating. 

[You]: course [You]: are you coming to the store?  [Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off  [You]: okay!!! [You]: see you then 

There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month. 

Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. 

Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap. 

Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door. 

Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him. 

“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him. 

“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes. 

Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.” 

He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”

“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water. 

He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.” 

“It’s next week, isn’t it?” 

He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.  

“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior. 

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?” 

“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.” 

“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood. 

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.” 

“O-okay.” 

It’s silent. Painfully so. 

“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.” 

There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat. 

“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.” 

“Mingyu—“

“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”

His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually. 

“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”

He pauses. 

“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”

“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”

There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down. 

You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much. 

“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob. 

It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much. 

“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”

The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu. 

And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms. 

You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long. 

But you can’t. You can’t do it. 

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”

You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down. 

“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”

Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak. 

You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore. 

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart. 

It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company. 

Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.  

Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway. 

You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck. 

There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form. 

“What’re you doing?”

Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort. 

“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters. 

“It’s not that!” you groan.

“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.” 

Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.

There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs. 

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you. 

“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.” 

“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?” 

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?” 

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits. 

“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time. 

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head. 

“Seokmin!” you scream. 

“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him. 

“No, it’s not,” you grit. 

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact. 

“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”

“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!” 

“I don’t want to go.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”

“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled. 

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.” 

He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.

 Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase. 

Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.

The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense. 

The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed. 

Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar. 

Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge. 

There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd. 

You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?

Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say. 

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this. 

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

“You’re here,” he says, simple as that. 

“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes. 

“Seok told me you were here too.” 

Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?” 

“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”

“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.

You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you. 

Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands. 

“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.

It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all. 

You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft. 

The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back. 

And another

Then another. 

You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work. 

You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all. 

THE BEGINNING

There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays. 

There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name. 

“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…” 

You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak. 

You needed to leave. 

Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed. 

“Let’s go home.”

“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.” 

He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away. 

“Let me drop you off home.” 

You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.

He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.

You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down. 

Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.

You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop. 

Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same. 

The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded. 

Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so? 

Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window? 

You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief. 

Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep. 

You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom. 

Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint. 

“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?” 

You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?” 

There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?” 

“Nayeon’s” 

“Bullshit.”

You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?” 

Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”

You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot. 

By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles. 

Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this. 

Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too. 

“Promise me you mean it,” you say. 

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying. 

“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”

The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying. 

Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”

“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap. 

Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips. 

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks. 

“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”

There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite. 

“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”

Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside. 

His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years. 

His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his lips. 

Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment. 

“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full. 

There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far. 

“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”

He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth. 

“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”

He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”

He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”

By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down. 

Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy. 

“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out. 

His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other. 

“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”

Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties. 

Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage. 

Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”

“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”

He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core. 

Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you. 

“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional. 

There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same. 

The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat. 

Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left. 

“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good. 

“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame. 

Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.” 

You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 

He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?” 

“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away. 

He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut. 

“Oh, Mingyu,” 

That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more. 

It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint. 

“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”

He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.” 

“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax. 

And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”

He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot. 

You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his. 

“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own. 

“Great.”

“Great?”

“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process. 

You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes. 

“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves. 

“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand. 

“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips. 

Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness. 

“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.” 

When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.” 

“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge. 

“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole. 

You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady. 

He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.” 

When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.

He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic. 

If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”

“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before. 

And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well. 

He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze. 

He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed. 

His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.

“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body. 

He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.” 

You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again. 

“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub. 

“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?” 

Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent. 

“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.

“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”

There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone. 

“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers. 

“Did you bring it with you?” 

You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed. 

“What the fuck?” you breathe out. 

“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed. 

You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.

“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again. 

“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.” 

“Oh.”

The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later. 

“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.

“What?”

“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.” 

“I-”

“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.” 

The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened. 

You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand. 

You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands. 

“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”

“We could do that right now.”

“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”

“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.

“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them. 

“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.” 

You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.

“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”

You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”

He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.

 His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it. 

“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter. 

He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off. 

Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep. 

The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time. 

The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar. 

Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp. 

 There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.

You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same. 

Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s. 

The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here. 

You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back. 

It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you. 

They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother. 

[Nayeon]: fuck [Nayeon]: i didnt see this [Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you  [Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here [Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you  [You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late [You]: i was at mingyus place [You]: ill tell you more later [Nayeon]: WHAT???

By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”

“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.���

You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does. 

“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face,  “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.” 

“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”

Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.” 

The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?” 

“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.” 

You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?” 

“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.” 

“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort. 

“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.” 

“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.” 

“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.

“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”

He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.” 

“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.

He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.” 

When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.” 

“I hope so,” you reply.

“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.” 

You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?” 

His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”

Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”. 

6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses. 

By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can). 

Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed. 

It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth. 

“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.

“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”

“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”

You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs. 

“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”

‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?” 

“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”

“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly. 

“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples. 

“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.” 

He’s silent. 

“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.” 

No response. 

“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”

Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”  

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?

“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.” 

You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight. 

“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.” 

“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.” 

“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”

The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling. 

Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well). 

But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other. 

His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment. 

You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight. 

As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively. 

By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you. 

You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit. 

You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you. 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you. 

By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.

“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”

“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”

“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.

He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”

“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.” 

He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”

“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.” 

He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”

It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights. 

“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”

“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”

You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”

He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!” 

You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle. 

“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”

He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.” 

You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home. 

It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums. 

“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.

“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate. 

“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load. 

It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”

He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?” 

“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.” 

He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”

You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”

He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”

He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”

“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything. 

You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.” 

Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”

“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite. 

It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie. 

He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression. 

“Love ya’” he giggles. 

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”

“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!” 

You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening. 

“Hey!” 

Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all. 

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone. 

“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply. 

“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself. 

It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

[echo-exco]

GRAAAAAH⁉️ HELP‼️ You wrote such a masterpiece, I'm already so HYPED for the next chapter ONG.

With the batfamily's personal agenda and inability to reach out, their past forever haunting them.

I imagine that the realization that their present, where they actively ( idk if intentionally ) ignore the reader, now "past", will haunt them forever.

Especially Bruce's reaction, his internal struggle with the fact that if he was just a little bit warmer, the chaos caused by the future villain who used to be under his roof, could've been prevented.

Question tho, how would they all eventually turn yandere? They seem to have all never interacted before, so I can't see them suddenly feeling the need to be there for the reader. Either it would be self-righteous beliefs or they'd just think she overreacted. ( bring in the angst LMAO )

— "BEEDALEAF." 🥬

Aww! Thank you so much! I’m really glad that what I wrote was good for you, the readers 😌 I also hope to bring the next chapter soon!

The batfam has their own problems and responsibilities to deal with. Even healer!reader is aware of that, which is why she tries to avoid bothering them with her needs, whether emotional, intellectual, educational, social, or even sometimes financial.

Healer!reader has always been able to take care of herself, with or without a family. What truly affects her is the fact that she can’t use her powers while in Gotham, out of fear that someone from the batfam might find out.

Now, no one in the batfam ever intended to ignore healer!reader on purpose. Some of them might even think they never ignored her. It’s just that everyone assumed she probably had something else to do—or they simply forgot about the requests and questions she had made.

Because, for better or worse, the batfam sees healer!reader as too… ordinary for the family.

Since no one knows (yet 😼) that healer!reader has extraordinary healing abilities, they genuinely believe she’s just the most normal and average daughter of Bruce Wayne.

As for Bruce, he’s definitely going to regret everything. Healer!reader’s future doesn’t look very warm or pleasant for anyone involved.

If only she had had a father, someone to remember, someone she could trust and feel safe with… would that have changed anything? Would she have stayed?

Does Bruce even know his own daughter?

I can’t say healer!reader will be a villain in the future, but she definitely won’t be a hero either. Just think of her as, quite literally, a “human machine made to save thousands of lives.” Of course, depending on your point of view, you could see healer!reader as either a villain or a hero…

As for how they’ll all eventually become yanderes… Well, I like to think the yandere instincts were already there, buried deep inside. They just needed a (massive) little push to finally activate.

Like I said before, they all believed healer!reader was just a very “normal” child for the family. No one ever bothered to look past that.

That’s partially why they kept their distance from her… as if they genuinely thought she’d be better off not getting involved in family matters. Because, to them, healer!reader is someone who hasn’t seen the worst of the world yet, someone who hasn’t been through anything truly traumatic.

They think she’s better off where she is. They believe that way she’ll be safe from everything bad.

And to be fair, healer!reader herself wouldn’t have let anyone dig too deep into who she really is.

She doesn’t want the batfam to know her. She just wants to leave Gotham and go back to the medical field with Masashi. Healer!reader wants to use her powers. Being in the mansion makes her feel restrained and useless. She doesn’t like being there.

She can endure the neglect— it’s something she’s always survived through. What she can’t handle is the thought of not knowing when she’ll be able to use her powers again.

So you can imagine what’ll happen in the future when the Batfam finally learns about healer!reader’s powers. That revelation is going to hit them hard—with guilt, with regret.

I can absolutely picture them noticing healer!reader’s disappearance and brushing it off as a typical tantrum from a child (even if they don’t understand why she’d act that way). But as time goes on and she gives no sign of life… well… that’s when the first alarms start to go off.

And of course, we still have to see Duke and how his presence will affect healer!reader.

Sorry if the response was a bit long. I just hope it cleared up all your doubts.