#Trying to fix my sleep schedule recently

[somerandomcryptid]

sleep deprived dod!Cryptid sketches because my sleep has been a fucking mess the last few weeks and I gotta put that tiredness SOMEWHERE

I love drawing fluffy hair that shit is my JAM

Also dod!cryptid would absolutely fuck up their own sleep schedule up and basically nocturnal at one point (cough cough, the arc where they're visiting Las Nevdas most nights cough cough) Everyone is very worried because they are still *attempting* to wake up at a normal time but they fail half the time because they are so tired they sleep through any alarms they might have

(dod/dreaming of death au is an au of @calamari-minecraft-corner(Squiddygirl on ao3)'s fic Penpal)

[amischiefofmuses]

.

[beadoesthings]

alright so my brain is so fucking close to grabbing the rope and ending it so here's some note goals to help improve my state of mind

100 notes: ill drink some more water cause i barely drink it

200 notes: ill try to eat cause i haven't been recently

300 notes: ill try to be more honest with people

400 notes: ill do the writing ive been meaning to do

500 notes: ill try to fix my sleep schedule

600 notes: ill try to stop hurting myself

700 notes: ill try to remember to take my meds

1000 notes: ill try to talk to people about my problems

2000 notes: ill ask to go back to therapy

100000 notes: ill come out to my family and confront them for being bad people. (please don't reach this im scared)

spamming is allowed, only 3 tags per person

go nuts

[blackwaxidol]

I do not know what my problem is.

[mylovesstuffs]

The Admirer Was Right in Front of You — Kim Mingyu

Mingyu’s been in love with you forever but you’ve never seen him that way, or so he thinks. So he writes you anonymous letters, sends gifts, leaves clues—seven days of hope that you’ll catch on without him spelling it out for you. But every time you get close, you guess everyone but him. 

Genre: Non-idol au, college au, romance (?), comedy, modern au (no specific setting, but contemporary vibe), slice of life and light-hearted mystery 

Pairing: Mingyu × fem!reader

Content: Secret admirer, friends-to-lovers, slow burn (?), miscommunication, amnesia (in terms of realization—reader doesn’t realize Mingyu’s feelings), investigative humor, gift-giving (anonymous), letters (anonymous), silly investigation, mingyu’s subtle hints, light drama (misunderstandings and comedy), emotionally constipated Mingyu, orange juice, lavender, hidden camera, fake love ringtone trauma, laughter and fun with friends (Jeonghan, Soonyoung, Woozi, Seungkwan, Vernon and Dino), dramatic!seungkwan, over-invested! soonyoung, smug!jeonghan, unspoken yearning, heart-thumping hugs,  romantic confession.

Warnings: None for explicit content, just mild comedic frustration and tension related to the investigation. potential light anxiety (reader overanalyzes and stresses about figuring out the admirer), occasional bout of existential romantic confusion.

Word count: 20,620 words

A/N: HIT TEXT BLOCK LIMIT SO EXCUSE ME. this was my rushed valentine’s day fic; written in a fog of sleep deprivation and caffeine, desperately trying to meet the deadline [14th Feb] before tumblr decided to glitch its entire draft-saving system into oblivion. to this day, it still won’t let me fix it [dear tumblr devs: once i get my degree, i’m coming for your job. and then i’m resigning on the spot after fixing my own problem ☺️] if wanted to post this,, life, exhaustion, and tumblr’s war crimes said no because to post it, i would've had to sit down and format it from scratch for HOURS because drafts wouldn't worl. it took me until few weeks into the issue [Feb] to realize i could cheat the system with scheduled posts [which is still a cursed gamble when you're handling 3k+ words]. i reread this recently and cringed so hard i nearly vaporized. this is so metallic and roboticthis… it truly contains all the side effects of first-draft. but at the time, i gave this thing my everything. sleep was sacrificed. blood, sweat, and tears [real] were involved. i was running on loneliness too. this may be posting now, but like I said earlier, it was written a long time ago. the fics that will come after this are recent. so, they’re better and you’ll see the difference. i’m not the same writer anymore, and that’s something i’m low-key proud of bc i see improvements lolllll. massive, massive thanks to K @cheers-to-you-th Calli @hhaechansmoless and Tiya @gyubakeries for resurrecting this from the grave; you three deserve hazard pay for beta-reading this without losing braincells. also to Kae @studioeisa, who was quite literally the only person i spoke to while writing this. thank you for letting me talk  about this fic’s summary

inspired by the golden age of secret admirer tropes and that one friend who’s always been right in front of you, but you were too blind to believe it could be him. much love to GoSe for fueling Seungkwan and Soonyoung’s idiocy. also, Jeonghan’s smirk deserves a credits roll

to the readers: you deserve better than this first draft. but thank you for reading it anyway ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ

You’re not expecting a package when you step outside your apartment door.

You're not expecting an online order—maybe the overpriced serum you panic-bought at 2 a.m. last week because TikTok convinced you your skincare routine was trash, but instead, there’s a neatly wrapped gift box on your doormat, and right on top of it, an envelope with your name on it.

Your first mistake is thinking this is a normal day. Your second mistake is opening the letter in front of your friends.

-

It was a normal afternoon at the café in your usual spot, where the group had gathered to do absolutely nothing productive as per tradition. You had just settled into your seat, wedging yourself between Mingyu and Soonyoung, when Seungkwan gasped.

"Oh my God, is that a love letter?"

Seungkwan’s voice was loud enough to startle the students at the next table. The café, previously humming with the background noise of clinking cups and conversations, now suddenly goes dead silent, at least, in your world, because now everyone is looking at you.

"It could be anything," you say, though the neatly written name on the envelope suggests otherwise.

"No, no, no," Soonyoung cuts in, already reaching for the letter. "We have to open this together. For the sake of the investigation."

"What investigation?"

"The one where we figure out who is in love with you, obviously."

Before you can argue, Jeonghan, sitting across from you, gestures toward the envelope. "Just open it. If you drop dead from embarrassment, at least we’ll have entertainment."

That’s all the permission Seungkwan needs before he grabs it, clearing his throat before reading aloud. "Dear Y/N," he read aloud in an exaggerated, sappy voice. " It feels a little cliché to start with Dear, but here we are. I don’t know if this is the best way to do this, but I guess I’m doing it anyway. The first time I met you, I thought the world had shifted just a little. You probably don’t remember, but I do. And I think… I always will. I see you. I see the way you get that little crease between your brows when you’re focused. The way you fight back a smile when you think something’s funny but pretend it isn’t. The way you give your things to people without thinking twice – your food, your jacket, your time. I see you, and I hope just this once you see me too.

P.S. You’re really bad at locking your phone screen. I already know your new favorite flower.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

"WHAT?!"

"NO WAY."

"Wait, wait, WAIT—who sent this?!"

Mingyu chokes on his drink. "Huh?"

You yanked the letter back, heart hammering. 

Jeonghan, lounging across from you, smirked. "Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer."

Seungkwan is already on his feet, "You have a secret admirer?! I—this is—what—WHO?!" And adds, "How come I don’t get secret admirers?!"

"Maybe because you announce every five minutes that you’re single and desperate." Jihoon deadpans.

"That is NOT—okay, but that’s beside the point!" Seungkwan huffed before rounding on you. "Who do you think it is?"

That was the question, wasn’t it? Your fingers traced the ink absently, brow furrowing. You wonder: Who, among them, is listening just a little too carefully? You steal a glance at your friends, Jeonghan is still smirking. Vernon and Chan are whispering to each other. Jihoon looks entirely uninterested, already focusing on his phone. Mingyu stays relaxed with that big smile in place. Soonyoung, who already struggles to sit still on a normal day, is practically vibrating in his seat.

"It has to be someone we know," you mutter, narrowing your eyes. "Someone who knows me really well."

Soonyoung gasped. "Wait. What if it’s Jihoon?"

Jihoon doesn’t even look up. "Do I look like the type to write love letters?"

Fair point.

Seungkwan ignores him. "No, no, no, think about it. The handwriting, it’s too neat, too precise. And look at this phrasing—'I see you'? That’s some poetic, brooding nonsense right there."

"That’s definitely not Jihoon," Vernon mutters, taking a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

"Okay, but who else could it be?" Chan muses.

"It has to be someone we know," you murmur, rereading the letter. The words are too personal. This isn’t some random admirer. This is someone who knows your habits, your quirks and stays with you a lot of the time.

"Maybe… Jeonghan?" Chan suggests.

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. "Me? That’s cute, but if I were her admirer, she'd know. I’m not subtle."

Okay. Not him either. Your mind whirls, piecing together possibilities. "So then who?" you ask, exasperated.

Soonyoung slams a fist on the table. "We investigate."

Seungkwan nods, solemn. "Operation: Who’s In Love With Y/N begins now."

Mingyu exhales, but no one notices. No one sees the way his shoulders drop, the barely-there shift in his posture, releasing something he was holding onto too tightly. No one catches the way Jeonghan glances at him from the side, a smirk playing on his lips like this is the most entertainment he’s had all week, and you obviously don't notice him either. Because you—sweet, oblivious, you have already ruled him out. Because of course Mingyu couldn’t be the one. The thought is too absurd, too ridiculous. How could he ever be into you? You don't even have the confidence to suspect him aloud. Mingyu, who walks into every room like he owns it, who grins too easily and makes everyone feel like they belong. Mingyu, who could have anyone if he wanted. And you’re just… you. It makes no sense. It has to be someone else, someone who wouldn't make your heart stutter in your chest just by standing too close. But if you really looked at him, you’d see it. His ears are pink, fingers drum against his knee, the way he looks at you when you’re not looking at him; but you don’t.

You’re too busy strategizing.

One thing that’s as clear as day now is that, you're suspecting your own friend group. While he wanted to stay anonymous with the letters, he had deliberately altered his handwriting hoping to throw you off but ironically in doing so, he somehow ended up mimicking Jihoon’s handwriting accidentally. And now, Jihoon is your prime suspect.

-

You, Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Jeonghan, and Mingyu are lounging in the library, passing time when Seungkwan starts scribbling something on a piece of paper, lips pressed together in deep concentration as he taps the pen twice against the table before declaring, “Soonyoung is out.”

“Hey!”

“And Seungkwan,” you add.

“Excuse me?”

“Be honest,” you deadpan, tilting your head slightly. “You can’t keep a secret for five minutes, let alone one day.”

Seungkwan opens his mouth to argue, but then stops, visibly deflating. Soonyoung, still grumbling about the injustice of it all, leans over to peer at the list Seungkwan has been working on. After a lot of back-and-forth (and Seungkwan rejecting some of Soonyoung’s wilder theories, like what if it’s a ghost?), the three of you narrow down the list of suspects. Jihoon, Vernon, and Chan remain, with Jihoon being the prime suspect because, as Seungkwan pointed out, his handwriting is suspiciously similar to the letter.

Across the table, Jeonghan and Mingyu stay silent throughout the discussion. Jeonghan watches, bemused, while Mingyu leans back in his chair, arms crossed loosely over his chest. Neither of them bother to chime in, letting the three of you spin as you, Soonyoung and Seungkwan plot to set a trap when the time is right. 

Now, Chan and Vernon, for some reason, being one of the suspects… Mingyu absolutely cannot wrap his head around it. Why those two? What about anything in that letter screamed them? Why is it so easy for you to entertain the idea that either of them could be your secret admirer, but not him when he’s right here breathing the same air as you? When the admirer is right in front of you? He can literally just straight up confess, but no, he has to wait. He has to hold himself back. After all, it hasn't even been a day since you received his first letter. He can be patient. He’s more calculated than people give him credit for. Sure, he might not seem like the type to plan things out, but when it comes to you, he’s meticulous. His friends know it, even you know it, but you’re too caught up in the role of being his friend to acknowledge that he’s more than just a guy who trips over thin air, that his intelligence is just as attractive as everything else about him.

Mingyu’s original plan was simple—he wanted you to figure it out. He thought that by leaving letters and gifts, you’d naturally start paying closer attention to the people around you. He assumed it would be obvious, that you’d pick up on the little details: how he knows things about you that only someone truly paying attention would, how each gift is something he’s seen you admire before. He expected you to connect the dots, to turn around, to look at him, and to realize. But instead, you’re sitting there, hunched over a notebook with Seungkwan and Soonyoung, listing off suspects like this is some kind of whodunnit mystery game.

Two

February 8th.

Walking up to your locker with Vernon, you sip the orange juice that Mingyu handed you just a few minutes ago. As you reach your locker, you pass the juice to Vernon and dig into your jacket pocket, searching for your keys. Your fingers brush against something unexpected, a small, rectangular object. You pull it out and take a closer look. It’s a bookmark, delicately pressed with a lavender flower—your favorite. Attached to it is a tiny note:

“It reminded me of you.”

Your eyebrows lift in surprise. Turning to Vernon, you hold up the bookmark, but before you can say anything, you catch him sipping from your juice.

“Yah! That’s mine!” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes.

Vernon simply shrugs. “Right…” he says, unfazed, taking another sip.

Rolling your eyes, you shove the bookmark in his direction. “Are you sure you didn’t slip this into my pocket when I wasn’t looking?”

Vernon scoffs, shaking his head. “I swear, Y/N, it's not me. I mean, I like you, but not enough to be your secret admirer.”

You huff but decide to let it go. Shaking your head, you turn back to your locker and start gathering your things, your books, a notebook, and a pen before shutting the door with a soft click.

Slipping your bag over your shoulder, you glance at Vernon, who still is sipping your juice. Letting out a sigh, you wave him off. “See you later, thief.”

“Enjoy finding your secret admirer.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn on your heel and make your way toward the park near the college library. The crisp breeze brushes against your face as you walk, the bookmark still tucked safely in your grasp. As you reach the park, you spot Seungkwan and Soonyoung sitting on the swings, chatting animatedly. A smile tugs at your lips as you pick up your pace, ready to execute your usual routine, which is pushing Seungkwan off his swing and claiming it for yourself.

Just as you lunge forward to shove him away, Seungkwan, having caught sight of you from the corner of his eye, expertly stands up and moves aside at the last second. Caught off guard, your hands swipe through thin air instead of meeting his shoulder and the momentum sends you tumbling forward. Instead of landing smoothly on the swing, your foot catches on the ground, and you face-plant onto the seat before slipping off and landing in the most ungraceful heap.

Soonyoung bursts into laughter, clutching his stomach as he doubles over, his giggles echoing through the park. The scene now resembles a group of drunk boys fumbling around with a soccer ball, except the only thing truly injured is your pride.

Groaning, you lift your head just enough to mutter, “The earth is full of selfish people.”

Seungkwan scoffs, arms crossed. “As if.”

Soonyoung is still wheezing. Like, fully doubled over, hands on his knees as Seungkwan rolls his eyes before sighing. Eventually after much suffering, he and Soonyoung each grab an arm and help you back to your feet. Dusting yourself off, you all make your way toward the bench in front of the swings, settling down.

Seungkwan disappears for a bit with a, “I’ll go get us something to drink,” and comes back with three drinks and, bless him, some ice wrapped in a napkin for your mishap from earlier. “Here,” he says, plopping down next to you, “for your bruised dignity.”

You roll your eyes but accept the ice anyway, pressing it against your arm where you had landed a little too hard. It’s a little embarrassing how much it helps. “Anyway,” you say, setting down your drink and pulling something out of your pocket. “I got another gift from the admirer today. Vernon was with me when I found it in my jacket’s pocket.” You hold up the bookmark along with the note.

Seungkwan squints at it. “You sure it’s not Vernon?”

“He denies it,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “But he’s still sus.”

At that, the two of them launch into a theorizing session, their ideas getting more ridiculous by the second. You’re pretty sure they're just saying words now. Seungkwan adds fuel to the fire, and before you know it, they’ve spun a whole conspiracy web involving secret codes. It’s a little concerning how quickly they came up with all this. “You guys are so stupid.”

“But seriously,” Seungkwan says, “how many gifts or letters have you gotten so far?”

“Yesterday, I got a letter which you both saw, and a small plant so in total, one letter and two gifts including today's bookmark.”

Last night, when you got back to your dorm, there was a box sitting neatly in front of your door. No note on the outside, no sign of who left it. You glanced up and down the hallway but nope, no secret admirer lurked in the shadows, just the usual dorm silence. So you brought the box inside, set it on your desk, and opened it. Inside was a small, neatly potted plant with a tiny note tucked beside it. The note read:

“Take care of it well.”

That’s it. No name, no signature, just that.

Soonyoung immediately decides it’s finally the time for drastic measures. “It’s time to set a trap.”

Seungkwan, already tired, sighs. “No, it's not.”

“Yes, it is,” Soonyoung insists. “We need cameras, motion sensors, maybe even a decoy package—”

Seungkwan holds up a hand. “Okay, first of all, you’re not rich enough to have motion sensors.”

“Fine, but we can record the next delivery,” Soonyoung counters. “We set up a camera, catch them in the act.”

Seungkwan hums, considering. “Actually… that could work.”

And so the plan is set. The three of you head to Soonyoung’s place, which is always a good idea. Not just because he always somehow manages to convince his sister to lend him something after only minimal begging (or a taekwondo match), but because his mom recently visited, which means homemade food. And if there’s one universal truth, it’s that Soonyoung’s mom’s cooking has the power to make you forget all your problems. So while Soonyoung is off on his mission to beg or fight, you and Seungkwan shamelessly take advantage of the situation by helping yourselves to an absolutely unnecessary amount of food. Every bite is warm and ridiculously comforting, enough to make you forget you’re literally in the middle of an undercover investigation.

By the time Soonyoung returns, looking victorious with the tiny camera in hand, you’re full, satisfied and only mildly guilty about eating half his mom’s cooking. He doesn’t seem to notice, though, too focused on phase two of Operation: Who’s In Love With Y/N. Soon, you all make your way back to your dorm, and upon arrival, you scout for the perfect spot to set up the device, ultimately deciding on a corner of the corridor wall just out of plain sight but with a clear view of your door. Now comes the tricky part: actually installing the camera.

With no ladder, no proper tools, and absolutely no sense of self-preservation, you’re left to your own devices, meaning an unsteady, completely improvised method of reaching the higher spot. This is how you end up watching one of the most questionable stunts in history unfold.

Seungkwan, grumbling under his breath about always being dragged into Soonyoung’s ridiculous ideas, crouches on a chair to add some height. “I swear, I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You don’t get paid at all,” you remind him helpfully.

“Exactly! That’s the problem!”

Then, after a brief, heated argument over whether this was a terrible idea (which Seungkwan insists it was), Soonyoung climbs onto Seungkwan’s back, steadying himself by pressing a hand against the wall.

Soonyoung stretches up, muttering instructions that Seungkwan has absolutely zero patience for. “Hold still,” Soonyoung hisses, wobbling slightly as he raises the camera in one hand and secures it in place.

“I am holding still!” Seungkwan retorts, voice strained from supporting Soonyoung’s weight.

“Then why do I feel like I’m on a boat in the middle of a storm?”

"Maybe because you're as heavy as a sack of rice!"

You, being entirely unhelpful, are doubled over in silent laughter, barely holding back tears.

Despite the constant bickering, Soonyoung manages to attach the camera securely without knocking anything over or causing a disaster which is an impressive feat in itself, given the circumstances. Once he's satisfied with the placement, he carefully climbs down, having only one near-death slip, but he catches himself just in time.

With the camera now rolling, the three of you retreat into your dorm, hoping that today might bring another letter. You settle in, playing a few rounds of UNO to pass the time while keeping an ear out for any sounds outside. However, as the hours tick by, no new delivery arrives. Eventually, as the clock edges past 8 PM, Soonyoung and Seungkwan decide to call it a day.

“Well,” Soonyoung sighs, stretching his arms above his head, “I guess we check the footage tomorrow.”

“Or,” Seungkwan grumbles, rubbing his sore shoulders, “this was all just an excuse for Soonyoung to climb on my back.”

You laugh, walking them to the door. “Thanks for helping out, though. See you guys tomorrow.”

With a final wave, they head off leaving you alone in the dorm. But as you glance at the door one last time before heading to your bedroom, a thought scratches at the back of your mind relentlessly: What if the admirer knows they’re being watched?

You shake your head, trying to push the thought away. Now’s not the time to get paranoid. You have other things to focus on, like your studies. After spending most of your day fooling around, it’s about time you catch up. With a sigh, you open your books and begin to study. Your eyes scan the page, absorbing formulas and theorems—polynomials, integrals, trigonometric identities, limits. It’s pure maths which always seems to make sense when you’re in the right mindset. You scribble through some practice problems, your pen moving quickly across the paper as you tackle linear algebra and calculus, but your focus doesn’t last long. After an hour of studying, the temptation to check your phone becomes unbearable. Just a quick break, you think. So you open Instagram and start mindlessly scrolling through reels, watching endless edits of SEVENTEEN. As the adrenaline from watching them starts to course through your veins, you stand up, feeling a little too hot and giddy from the rush. You need to walk it off so you head to the kitchen and grab a glass of water trying to cool down and calm your racing thoughts. But as you’re pouring the water, your eyes naturally drift toward the front door. And that’s when you see it.

A letter. Slipped under the crack of the door.

Your heart skips a beat, and afraid to move. It’s from the secret admirer. The thought sends a shockwave through you. The thought that the hidden camera set up by you, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung might have actually caught the admirer in the act fills your mind, making your pulse quicken. Your hands are slightly trembling as you set the cold glass down, then without thinking twice, you rush over, bending down to pick it up. The envelope is unmarked, your fingers linger on it for a moment as a weird mix of excitement and nerves bubble in your chest. Slowly, you rip the top open and pull the letter out, unfolding it carefully.

“I saw you laughing today, and it made me stop for a second. You’ve been on my mind for a while now and if I’m being honest, I don’t think a single day passes without me thinking of you at least once. It’s strange, isn’t it? How someone can become a part of your thoughts without even trying. Anyway, I hope you liked the bookmark, thought you might like the lavender on that. It's nothing too fancy, but I hope it makes you smile. And before you ask – no, I won’t tell you who I am yet. You’ll figure it out when the time is right. Or maybe I’ll have to be the one to tell you. See you later.”

You place the letter on your desk and take a deep breath. Part of you just feels this strange comfort from the letter, but another part of you is still buzzing with excitement, wondering who the camera caught.

You decide against checking the camera right now, knowing full well that if you watch the footage without Seungkwan and Soonyoung, they’ll throw a fit and sulk for days. And dealing with their pouts and sighs isn’t worth it. They’d probably demand some sort of grand apology, maybe treating them to a big buffet or approving one of Soonyoung’s ridiculous ideas as compensation. Yeah, no thanks. With that in mind, you push aside your curiosity and decide to wait until tomorrow to watch it together.

Three

February 9th.

“Hey, have you been sleeping well? You always pretend you’re fine, but I know you haven’t been getting enough rest. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you rubbing your eyes or you zoning out when you’re supposed to be paying attention. I know you have a lot on your mind. Maybe even too much. If I could take some of that weight off your shoulders, I would. But for now, all I can do is remind you to please, take care of yourself.

Also, I know you’re probably looking everywhere for answers, but sometimes you’re too focused on finding them that you miss the simple ones. Take a breath. Relax. Not everything is a mystery – sometimes, the answer is right in front of you, waiting for you to notice.

Anyway, I saw you trip earlier. That was funny.”

-

You stand, dumbfounded, gripping both last night’s and today’s letters while Seungkwan struggles to restrain himself from launching a punch at Soonyoung. The excitement of finally discovering your secret admirer had kept you patient, waiting for the two boys so you could watch the footage together. Now, the three of you stand in a loose circle in your dorm room, Seungkwan holding the mini camera in one hand, his grip tight enough to crack plastic.

Soonyoung, your beloved and apparently utterly incompetent partner in crime, forgot to check the camera battery. Which meant that after a measly thirty minutes of recording, the camera died. Which meant it captured absolutely nothing. Which meant your admirer had narrowly avoided being caught, not because of their own cunning but because Soonyoung was an idiot.

A heavy collective sigh fills the room, a habit the three of you have apparently perfected at this point. There’s no point in dwelling on it now. Shoulders slumping in defeat, you all grab your bags and head toward the stairs, making your way to campus.

Seungkwan, however, is not letting it go. He insists that this is a catastrophe, that you’ve all officially lost your credibility as investigators, that Soonyoung should be banned from handling equipment ever again. “This is ridiculous. This is a disaster. This is an embarrassment.” He’s been nagging nonstop, words tumbling out at breakneck speed as he waves his hands. “How did we mess up something this simple? How does anyone forget to check the battery? We are so unserious—”

You groan, throwing a hand in front of his face, forcing him to stop mid-rant. “Seungkwan, shut the fuck up and watch where you’re walking before you trip over your own ego.” Although he’s not wrong, he was just as invested in this as you and Soonyoung were, so he really has no right to act this self-righteous.

He gasps, but to his credit, he actually shuts up, though you can feel the pout radiating off of him.

Soonyoung meanwhile, has already moved on. By the time you reach campus, he’s concocting another plan, mumbling under his breath about an official interrogation session. “Café,” he decides. “We’ll question the suspects in the café.”

It’s not the worst idea. After all, you, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung did come up with a list of potential admirers. And since Jihoon, Vernon, and Chan were still blissfully unaware of their suspect status on the list, it wouldn’t hurt to gather more intel.

Soonyoung claps his hands together, grinning. “Alright! We meet up at the café later with the others, and then—”

“Then we go to class before you actually flunk out of college,” you interrupt, already dragging Seungkwan toward the lecture hall.

“Pfft. Rude.” Soonyoung huffs but waves you off. “I’ll see you later!”

As you and Seungkwan slip into your usual seats, you let your eyes drift over the letters once more, fingers tracing the words. If Soonyoung hadn’t messed up, would you have already known the answer? Probably, but still…

Instead of paying attention to whatever your lecturer is droning on about—something about algorithms, efficiency, and real-world applications—you and Seungkwan huddle together whispering over your list of suspects one last time. Jihoon, Vernon, and Chan. The same three names.

“We need a proper plan,” Seungkwan mutters, tapping his pen against his notebook.

You nod in agreement. “We can’t just corner them randomly without knowing what to ask.”

So, while the rest of the class focuses on things that actually matter like, say, the lecture that’s apparently worth half of your grade, you and Seungkwan draft an interrogation script. Questions, strategies, ways to subtly (or not-so-subtly) catch the culprit slipping. Once it's done, Seungkwan sends the script to Soonyoung and without hesitation, drops a message in the group chat:

Seungkwan: Everyone. Café. After class. No exceptions.

Just as he hits send, "Seungkwan," your lecturer calls, voice heavy with disapproval.

You barely suppress a wince as Seungkwan slowly looks up, caught red-handed with his phone still in his grip. The lecturer pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, unimpressed. "Would you like to share what’s so important that you’d rather text in the middle of my very crucial, very grade-determining lecture?" (He says that every lecture. At this point, you’re convinced it’s just a scare tactic.)

Seungkwan, without missing a beat, gives the lecturer the most withering, unimpressed side-eye you’ve ever seen, one that he definitely doesn’t notice, too busy shifting his focus onto another poor student. With a sigh, Seungkwan stands up, gathers his things, and exits the room like a man facing exile.

After the lecture ends, you gather your things and step out of the hall, immediately spotting Seungkwan and Soonyoung waiting for you near the stairway landing. Seungkwan leans against the railing, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently and Soonyoung, on the other hand, is half-sitting on the lower step, scrolling through his phone, probably looking at some absurd meme he’s about to show you the moment you get close. The second you approach, Seungkwan spots you and gestures for your water bottle, giving you an expectant look. Without a word, you hand it over and he takes a long gulp like he’s been trekking through the desert. Meanwhile, you grab Soonyoung’s wrist to pull him up from his seat, and just like that, the three of you set off toward the café.

On the way, you pass by Chan’s lecture hall. He’s just stepping out when Soonyoung with no warning or whatsoever, hooks an arm around his neck and steers him in your direction. “Where are we going?” Dino asks, confused but not resisting.

“To the café,” Seungkwan answers. “We have an important interrogation.”

Chan raises an eyebrow. “Do I even have a choice?”

“Nope,” you and Soonyoung say at the same time.

“As expected…” Chan says sadly (fake).

When the four of you reach the café, you slide into your seat right between Seungkwan and Soonyoung, with Chan sitting beside Soonyoung. The moment you’re settled, the others start trickling in, each arriving on their own. That means they actually checked the group chat. If they hadn’t, well, you three would’ve just stormed into their respective halls and dragged them here by the ear. You weren’t about to wait around forever. Once everyone had gathered, Seungkwan takes charge.

“We’re here to interrogate Jihoon, Vernon, and Chan,” he announces, placing the list in the center of the table. “No questions about why they’re on the list. No complaints. We have our reasons.”

Mingyu watches all of this unfold, barely holding back a sigh. They’re never going to figure it out at this rate. He was never worried about Seungkwan and Soonyoung actually catching him. Those two could be geniuses in their own fields but when it came to deduction, they were absolute fools. It’s amusing how confident Seungkwan and Soonyoung are in their so-called investigation. He wants to scoff, wants to roll his eyes, but he keeps himself in check. You, on the other hand… you’re smart, but Mingyu is starting to think that your partnership with Seungkwan and Soonyoung might be lowering your IQ. Still, he lets it play out, keeping quiet as the interrogations begin.

Suspect Interrogations

✔ Jihoon goes first. He looks downright offended that his name is even on the list, crossing his arms over his chest as he scowls at you and Seungkwan. "Why would I do something so cheesy?" he demands. "I've told you already, it's not me!"

Seungkwan doesn’t miss a beat. He leans forward squinting at Jihoon, "That’s exactly what a guilty person would say!"

Jihoon visibly clenches his jaw, looking like he’s one second away from launching his drink at Seungkwan’s head. You almost want to stop him but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see it happen.

✔ Vernon is next. He stares at you, eyes blinking slowly, looking about as confused as a man who’s been woken up mid-dream. "I don’t even write notes for myself, why would I write one for you?" he asks. "And I think I've told you many times, it's not me!"

You and Soonyoung exchange looks, still very suspicious of him for some reason.

✔ Chan goes last. He doesn’t even pretend to take this seriously, instead, he just laughs, "If I liked you, I’d just tell you," he says.

It’s a fair point. A good point. But then… he keeps talking. He starts adding unnecessary details, rambling about hypotheticals—the ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybes’ that no innocent person would feel the need to explain. He’s digging a deeper hole with every word, and you can practically see Seungkwan’s brain short-circuiting beside you.

Then, all at once, Seungkwan slams a hand on the table and leans forward, "That sounds like something the real admirer would say to throw us off."

Chan looks so betrayed.

Jeonghan crosses his arms as he observes the mess of notes and theories sprawled out before him. "You're not going to get them to confess, you know," he says. "They want to stay anonymous. No amount of begging or interrogation is going to change that."

You narrow your eyes at him. "Then what do you suggest, Sherlock?"

Jeonghan smirks. "Simple. If you can’t catch them in the act, make them come to you."

He lays out his ideas: each one realistic, logical, and frustratingly effective. He insists that if the admirer is really in your friend group, they'll never slip up under pressure. They've already been careful and their goal isn't to get caught. It's to wait until they're ready.

But for the first time, Jeonghan is wrong.

Mingyu doesn’t want to stay anonymous because he isn’t ready. He’s been ready for as long as he can remember. He’s been in love with you since forever. The only thing stopping him from confessing outright is that he wants you to see it first. To realize, without anyone spelling it out for you that your admirer has been right in front of you this entire time. That it’s him.

Jeonghan keeps talking, giving you, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung ideas on how to lure out the admirer. You nod along, jotting down notes with Seungkwan, completely oblivious to the way Mingyu shifts in his seat, playing idly with the rings on his fingers, memorizing all of your plans. Jeonghan’s part is done, and now he just leans back, chatting lazily with Mingyu, who barely hears a word. Mingyu knows you’re not getting anywhere with this approach, not as long as you keep treating this like some detective novel. So, he decides to leave some hints of his own. Letting you catch him staring. Letting his fingers brush against yours just a second too long. 

A waiter approaches the table, setting down a glass of orange juice in front of you, along with a small hand warmer wrapped in soft fabric. A tiny note is attached, folded neatly under the band.

You blink, frowning. "I didn’t order this."

The waiter only smiles. "It was ordered anonymously. For you."

Before you can even process what that means, Seungkwan moves at the speed of 3×10⁸ m/s, snatching the orange juice off the table. "We are not letting her drink something from an unknown sender," he announces before he downs it in one go.

"You mean my secret admirer," you correct, deadpan, reaching for the note instead.

"So you say," he mutters.

Mingyu leans back in his seat, watching your reaction carefully as you unfold the tiny slip of paper. The words are simple yet enough to make your stomach flip:

“Keep your hands warm. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Seungkwan doesn’t even notice your momentary daze because he’s too busy sulking over his lack of a second drink. "That was good," he mutters, smacking his lips. "Would be nice if someone ordered one for me, though.”

Mingyu, cool, calm, and completely unbothered, raises a hand and calls the waiter over again. "Seven more orange juices, please," he says and then throws a pointed look at Seungkwan. "For everyone except him."

Seungkwan gasps. "What! Why not me?"

Mingyu smirks, propping his chin on his hand. "You already stole hers. No take-backs."

Seungkwan glares at him, indignant. “Oh, so now we’re playing favorites? Unbelievable.”

Mingyu only pokes his tongue out teasingly before leaning back in his chair, satisfied with the laughter echoing around the table. Soonyoung bursts into laughter first, quickly followed by the others. Mingyu just smiles to himself, but soon enough, you clear your throat, drawing everyone's attention. "So," you start, your voice slightly exasperated, "I was this close to catching the admirer in the act." You proceed to recount the series of events from yesterday and today, explaining how Soonyoung and Seungkwan had set up a hidden camera in your dorm’s corridor, only for the idiotic Soonyoung to forget to check the battery, causing it to die before it could record anything.

Mingyu who had been listening intently, releases a relieved breath, knowing how close he came to being discovered. The thought of you catching him in the act sends a shiver down his spine. He silently makes a mental note to be more careful with these anonymous deliveries. After all, he wants you to discover the admirer is him, but on your own time. Mingyu doesn’t want it to be forced.

Before he leaves, Mingyu stands up, making his way toward you. He gives you a hug and in that moment, it feels different unlike other times. His arms wrap around you with purpose, his chest pressing lightly against yours. The warmth of his body and the familiar scent of him, fresh and lightly musky with a hint of wood, lingers in your senses. You can feel the gentle pressure of his arms around you, and to not exaggerate, it feels like time had slowed down. Your heart stumbles over itself, a foolish, reckless thing, drunk on the way he feels against you. It’s ridiculous how a simple hug can make your head spin, how the warmth of his arms feels like something you shouldn’t crave, but do anyway. You press your lips together, willing yourself to breathe normally, to not let it show just how much this moment is unraveling you from the inside out. But it’s stupid. So, so stupid. Because this isn’t how you’re supposed to feel when your heart should be occupied with the mystery of your secret admirer—the person leaving you letters, the person who sees you in a way no one else does. You shouldn’t be aching for more, shouldn’t be selfishly lingering in Mingyu’s embrace, wishing he’d never let go. You shouldn’t want him to hold you like this again, and again, and again. But you do. And it feels wrong, because Mingyu isn’t the one writing you those letters…

He pulls back slightly, still holding you for a moment longer than usual as if trying to convey something without words. You notice how his touch lingers; the light yet deliberate way he lets you feel his presence though you don't fully catch onto his intentions. Meanwhile, Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at the hug. The others don’t really notice, as it’s not uncommon for the eight of you to hug, but something about this seems different even if they don't quite pinpoint it.

Mingyu pulls away, his smile still staying as he bids everyone goodbye, claiming he has another class in the afternoon that he can’t afford to miss.

However, as soon as he steps out of the café, he changes direction, heading not toward the classroom, but to a candle-making workshop he’d booked an appointment for a few days ago. Inside the workshop, Mingyu walks around with the instructor who guides him through the candle-making process. The space smells like warm wax and a cocktail of fragrances. The place is dancing with creativity but Mingyu already has a vision in mind.

His first idea is a rotating heart-shaped candle made of light pink wax, its design featuring ribbed layers that spiral upward giving it a unique 3D sort of effect. The second candle will be more playful, a rubik's cube made of hearts. It's a square candle and each side is covered in a grid of tiny hearts, all in varying shades of pink. The design is neat and the colors blend really well which makes the candle appear soft but striking at the same time.

Mingyu carefully selects the wax, something soft yet durable, perfect for the designs he has in mind and the colors, choosing soft shades of pink, each one different but complementing the others. He picks out the scents: a lavender with hints of vanilla. The instructor walks him through the remaining details, ensuring everything is perfect for the candles he’s about to create. Mingyu’s thoughts briefly drift back to you, wondering how you’ll react once you see the candles. But he has no time to waste anymore, so Mingyu rolls up his sleeves as the instructor prepares the workspace, laying out all the necessary materials. He’s focused, the idea of creating something special for you igniting a sense of excitement and purpose within him. The sound of the instructor’s instructions makes Mingyu feel like he’s entering a different world, one where he can focus solely on his vision.

Step 1: Preparing the Wax

The instructor starts by showing Mingyu how to melt the wax to the perfect consistency. Mingyu, fully engaged, watches carefully as the wax turns from solid to a glassy liquid. He chooses a light pink wax, the base for both candles, and pours it into a large mixing container, ready to be heated. The wax glows softly under the warm light and Mingyu smiles at how it resembles the color he envisions for the heart-shaped candle.

Step 2: Crafting the Heart Candle

Mingyu takes a special mold, shaped like a heart, and begins carefully pouring the melted wax into the mold. He does this slowly, ensuring there are no air bubbles and that the wax is evenly spread. As it fills the mold, he adds layers, letting each one cool slightly before pouring the next to create the ribbed, spiraled effect he wanted. With each layer, the heart shape begins to come to life, the design slowly becoming more intricate, giving it that soft, rotating effect he’d envisioned.

Once the mold is filled, Mingyu lets it cool. He then checks the temperature of the wax again, then chooses a faint vanilla scent to add, mixing it in thoroughly. He waits patiently, allowing the wax to solidify into the form of a delicate rotating heart.

Step 3: Crafting the Rubik's Cube Candle

Next, Mingyu turns his attention to the Rubik’s cube candle. He chooses a square mold, knowing it’ll be a bit trickier to get all the sides even but he’s determined. He melts a darker shade of pink wax, then carefully pours it into the mold, covering each side evenly. As the wax cools slightly, Mingyu presses tiny heart-shaped stamps into each side, ensuring each one is uniform but with slight variations in the shade of pink. Some hearts are light, some darker, creating a neat grid-like pattern.

Before he finishes, he adds the scent, a hint of lavender to the candle for a calming, refreshing scent that contrasts but compliments the soft vanilla in the heart-shaped candle. He doesn’t know why, but something about it feels just right.

Step 4: Setting Them to Cool

Mingyu carefully places both candles on the cooling racks, watching as they begin to set. He’s exhausted but satisfied, a small smile playing on his lips as he imagines you receiving them. He doesn’t need to say it but these candles are more than just gifts, they are symbols. Symbols of his feelings, wrapped up in a soft pink glow waiting for you to figure out that the admirer was always right in front of you.

As the wax cools and the candles solidify, Mingyu’s heart races just a little faster. He’s ready, he’s more than ready. He just needs you to realize it too.

Four

February 10th.

You carefully lift the velvet black box, a silk material cradling the delicate necklace inside. Your fingers brush against the golden chain as the lavender gemstone catches the light. The oval shape of the gemstone adds a timeless quality to it, and the way the facets reflect the light gives it an ethereal, almost magical quality. The chain is fine and delicate, emphasizing the dainty, feminine look of the necklace, which, in all its understated elegance, somehow feels like it was meant only for you. You can feel your heart race, knowing that someone took the time to pick out something that you also had your eyes on. 

Then your eyes fall on the note attached to the box, and you carefully read the words:

“I remember you mentioning this the other day. Couldn’t resist.”

Your heart skips a beat as the memory floods back. You remember the moment so clearly now. It was maybe an offhand comment but you had mentioned how much you adored that lavender gemstone necklace you saw during window-shopping. You had daydreamed about having it in your hands, imagining how beautiful it would be to wear and how it would make you feel. You'd been chatting with the others, and as you recall, the only ones who were around that day were Jeonghan, Jihoon, Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Chan. Your mind races as you quickly start to piece things together. It was one of them, wasn’t it? Vernon is out now but one of them had been paying attention and had remembered that fleeting wish. 

You set the necklace aside for a moment, turning your attention to the next gift. As you open the small package, your eyes widen in surprise. It's a keychain—a cute, round Doraemon keychain, the little blue robot cat you used to love watching as a kid. You can actually hear the theme song in your mind as you hold it in your hand.

You step into your room, carefully setting both gifts on your desk. It’s officially the fourth day since you found out about your secret admirer. Each day without fail you've received a gift along with a letter. But today, there’s been no letter yet. Which means it could arrive any moment. And that means this is your another chance. If you time things right, if you plan well enough, you might just catch them in the act. Your mind immediately goes to Seungkwan and Soonyoung. You need to meet up with them as soon as possible to strategize. Jeonghan’s advice had logic behind it, if there’s any hope of luring out the admirer, you’ll have to be smart about this.

With a deep breath, you check your phone to see the time and—Holy shit. You're late. Like, really late.

Your eyes widen as you scramble to grab your things. Soonyoung and Seungkwan are definitely going to scold you for making them wait. You don’t even have time to dwell on the gifts anymore, your priority is getting out of here now.

You rush to your closet, throwing on a gray oversized hoodie. It’s comfortable, and most importantly, easy to move in. You quickly pair it with high-waisted black wide-leg pants that you found hanging right in front of you. Slipping into your sneakers, you grab your black quilted tote bag, sliding it over your shoulder in one swift motion. Before heading out, you catch one last glimpse of yourself in the mirror, quickly applying a soft burgundy lipstick just enough to add some color to your face. Your Sony headphones settle around your neck as you practically bolt for the door. 

You can already imagine Seungkwan’s sigh and Soonyoung’s exaggerated disappointment. You are so not ready for this.

You burst into the library slightly out of breath, scanning the room until your eyes land on them sitting at one of the corner tables. Soonyoung is slouched over, lazily flipping through a book while Seungkwan looks far too unimpressed, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

The second you reach them, Seungkwan wastes no time. "You’re so late," he huffs, grabbing your wrist before you can even attempt an apology.

“Wait, I—” you start, but it’s useless.

Before you can even process what's happening, Seungkwan bolts out of the library with you in tow, dragging you behind him. You barely manage to throw Soonyoung an apologetic look but he just waves lazily, muttering something about meeting up later.

Seungkwan doesn’t stop until you’re both speed-walking through the hallway toward your class. “You seriously need to start checking the time,” he scolds though his grip on your wrist loosens once he sees you struggling to keep up.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you say between breaths, deciding to distract him before he starts a full-on lecture. “Anyway—oh my god, you won’t believe how noisy my neighbors have been lately.”

That catches his attention. “How noisy?”

“Loud loud,” you emphasize, lowering your voice as you both slip into the classroom and find your seats. “Like, I swear they’re either throwing a party every other night or filming some very questionable action scenes.”

Seungkwan gasps, already invested. “That’s insane. You have to spill everything later. But wait…” he pauses, turning to you, “...did you get anything from your secret admirer today?”

You nod, pulling your tote bag closer. “Yeah, actually. A keychain and a necklace.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Necklace? Okay, that’s new.”

“Yeah, yeah, but focus,” you whisper, nudging him as the professor enters. “We’ll talk about it later when Soonyoung’s here too.”

Seungkwan sighs but leans back in his seat, finally quieting down as class begins. You let out a relieved breath, glad you managed to avoid more nagging.

-

The plan was supposed to be foolproof. Simple, yet effective. You, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung had spent nearly an hour or two in the library piecing together the perfect strategy. Since the admirer delivered gifts and letters at completely random times, catching them in the act had been next to impossible. But then, Seungkwan had a moment of genius enlightenment or at least, that’s what he called it.

“You pretend to leave,” he had explained. “Turn off the lights, make some noise like you're walking away… but in reality, you're just hiding somewhere nearby, waiting to see who sneaks in.”

“I think it’s perfect!” Soonyoung grinned, clapping his hands together.

You weren’t as sure. On one hand, you wanted to catch him. On the other, you secretly hoped he’d be smart enough to avoid the trap. You didn’t want a dumb admirer, but you also desperately wanted to know who it was. 

And so it was set, you pretended to leave your dorm, deliberately shutting the door a little louder than necessary. The lights were turned off, and your footsteps echoed down the hallway only for you to quickly slip into a hiding spot right around the corner, out of direct sight but close enough to see anyone who entered.

Seungkwan and Soonyoung were stationed at different vantage points: Soonyoung crouched behind a vending machine down the hall, and Seungkwan, well… he was supposed to be hiding behind the stairwell.

Except he was the one who completely blew the mission.

You were barely five minutes into waiting when your phone suddenly blasted at full volume—

I'M SO SICK OF THIS FAKE LOVE~ FAKE LOVE~ FAKE LOVE~

Your heart stopped. Seungkwan was calling you.

You fumbled with your phone, fingers scrambling to hit decline as fast as humanly possible, but the damage was already done. From the dim light of the hallway, you saw a figure, tall, broad-shouldered frozen in place. There was a brief pause, and then… an unmistakable snort. Your admirer had just laughed at you.

Your mortification reached new heights as you caught a glimpse of movement just as Mingyu took a step back, blending into the shadows with alarming ease. But before he disappeared entirely, he let something slip from his fingers. A single envelope fluttered down to the floor. Then, just like that, he was gone. Mission failed.

The timing had been perfect. You had expected to wait for at least an hour, maybe two, or even five before the admirer would finally make a move. But no, he had shown up almost immediately after you hid. It should have been a victory. You had been so, so close, and yet…it still ended up failing. Your disappointment is immeasurable.

The one time you had a chance to catch him and Seungkwan of all people had to blow it. You don’t even want to look in his direction right now. Instead, you stare down at the envelope on the floor, left behind in his quick escape. You take a shaky breath before stepping forward, crouching down to pick it up. Your fingers brush against the smooth paper. It’s slightly warm, maybe from being held just moments ago. He was right in front of you and you missed him.

-

Mingyu sighs, his arm draped around your shoulders, patting you just below your shoulder blade. You lean into him, still fuming while Seungkwan sits stiffly across from you, avoiding eye contact. Soonyoung is usually the loudest one in the group but remains eerily quiet, the guilt probably eating him alive too.

You groan, burying your face against Mingyu’s chest. “I was so close! Like, insanely close. But no, of course, the universe had to humiliate me instead. The admirer didn’t just escape—he snorted at me. Snorted! He found it funny that I got caught!” You lift your head, eyes blazing with frustration. “You guys don’t understand. We had one job. One job! And we failed.”

Mingyu’s lips twitch, a mix of amusement and fondness. He’s enjoying this even as he strokes your arm absentmindedly, pretending to be the supportive friend. Jeonghan, on the other hand, actually smirks. “To be fair, I did tell you to be discreet.”

You shoot him a glare. “Don’t. Even. Start.”

Mingyu watches you closely and expectantly. Maybe you’ll finally piece it together now, maybe you’ll notice the way he’s been around you, the way the gifts are so him, the way his words always hold an extra layer of meaning. But no. Instead, you start throwing out the most ridiculous theories. “What if he’s not from our group? What if it’s some random stranger who’s been stalking me this entire time?”

Mingyu sighs deeply.

“What if it’s a professor?”

Mingyu groans.

“What if it’s—”

“Stop.”

You blink as he turns you toward him, his hands suddenly cupping your face. His palms are warm against your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your skin. Your eyes widen at the sudden closeness, at the way his gaze locks onto yours. For just a second he wonders if you’ll finally see it. If you’ll notice the way his eyes soften when he looks at you. If you’ll catch onto the warmth in his voice when he speaks. If you’ll recognize the way his hands feel so familiar, because he’s been by your side all along. But instead, you just stare at him puzzled.

Mingyu exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment before pulling back. “Don’t overthink it,” he says. “The admirer will still admire you even after knowing you were spying on him without his consent. He has no reason not to.”

You blink at him. “That’s… oddly reassuring?”

Jeonghan watches the entire thing unfold, his smirk deepening. Of course, he picked it up. Mingyu releases you by shaking his head. He’s this close to just spelling it out for you, but no, you have to figure it out yourself. His fingers twitch slightly as he slips two candies into the pocket of your hoodie. You’re sharp and he knows that better than anyone. Always observing, always analyzing but right now, you seem lost in thought, your brows furrowed just slightly, lips pressed together as if deep in contemplation and he wonders who are you thinking about? Who are you suspecting? Because he's right here. He's always been right here but do you see him?

He leans back slightly, now one arm slung over the back of your chair, watching the way your fingers idly trace patterns on the wooden table. He wonders if you realize how much of yourself you give away. The way your shoulders relax ever so slightly when you’re comfortable. The way your fingers tense when you’re overthinking. The way your lips part just the tiniest bit when a thought clicks into place. And right now… you’re thinking hard. 

Meanwhile, his mind flashes back to earlier.

When your ringtone screamed Fake Love, he didn't panic but his body reacted on instinct, stepping back into the shadows, keeping his composure. And honestly, he had expected you to pull a stunt like this. Ever since he heard you setting up the hidden camera last time, he knew you’d try something even bolder next. That’s why he had prepared for it, why he was ten times more careful now especially since you’d taken Jeonghan’s advice. But the real problem was that you were so cute.

The way you hunched down, scrambling to decline the call, eyes darting around like a guilty child caught sneaking snacks before dinner. From the corner of his eye, he had watched you, heart clenching in the most endearing way. He wanted to stay longer just to see you try harder, to watch the determination in your eyes. But he had slipped the letter onto the floor and disappeared before you could catch him. 

-

At night, when you can’t get the gifts out of your head, the theories keep spinning, running faster than your thoughts. You pull out your phone, without even thinking about it. You tap his contact in your phone reflexively. He is the only person you can call for this, the only one who doesn’t mind when you ramble, who lets you spill every ridiculous and half-formed thought without ever making you feel like you’re too much. He’s the only one you trust to catch your words when they come tumbling out. But does he ever do the same? Does he ever pick up his phone in the middle of the night, scroll past contacts, and land on your name? When things get too loud in his head, when he feels too much, does he think about calling you the way you think about calling him?

The sound of the dial tone fills the silence in your room, your pulse quickening as you wait for him to pick up. It rings once, twice—until finally, he answers.

"Hello?" His voice is deep and groggy like you’ve just pulled him out of deep sleep.

"Hey," you say, your words spilling out all at once. "I think it’s Jihoon. His handwriting, I swear, it's obvious. And about that keychain, it could be Chan too, maybe he remembered that necklace…."

There's a moment of silence on the other end, and you’re too wrapped up in your thoughts to hear the shift in his voice. It’s a bit of a sigh like he’s holding back something. "Hmm," Mingyu murmurs, dragging the word out. "You think it’s Jihoon or Chan? I mean, I guess it could be them." But you don’t hear the tension in his tone.

You launch into another theory, oblivious to his discomfort. "Or it could be Jeonghan? I know he's blunt all the time but I only talked about the necklace with him, Chan, you, Jihoon and Seungkwan…so it has to be one of them, right?"

He chuckles softly though the sound feels strained, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know. Maybe you should just… let it be for a little while. Think about it in the morning, yeah?"

"I’m not letting it go, Mingyu. I need to figure this out. It’s driving me crazy!"

You hear his deep exhale on the other end. He’s not chuckling anymore. "Okay, okay," he says, voice slightly more clipped. "But get some sleep, alright?"

You roll your eyes, but you’re not listening. You’re too focused on unraveling it. "I’ll sleep when I have answers. Thanks anyway, Mingyu."

By the time you glance at the clock, it’s already 2 a.m., and you’re still awake, thinking about everything.

-

“You seemed deep in thought today. I wonder what you were thinking about. Or rather… who. You’re sharp, you know. Always paying attention, always observing. I wonder if you realize how much of yourself you give away when you’re lost in your own head. You’re looking for answers right now, aren’t you? That’s okay. Just don’t get so caught up in looking that you forget to see what’s right in front of you.

I hope you liked today’s gift. I thought it suited you.”

Five

February 11th.

Another day, another failure. You, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan are officially verified stupid.

The three of you sit slumped against the dorm room wall staring at the ceiling in sheer defeat. The plan was foolproof but you didn't account for one crucial factor. You live in a building with other students. You guys decided to install a motion alarm. Too many false alarms. A passing student, a delivery guy, a gust of wind. Each time the alarm went off, you three sprang into action only to find a confused neighbor or an empty hallway. By the third false alarm, Seungkwan was done.

"I'm quitting." He declared, standing up immediately. "I can't do this anymore. I might commit a crime."

"But you want to find out, right?" Soonyoung asked.

"I do. But not like this..." Seungkwan rubbed his temples, looking at you for support.

You didn't understand him. At all. "We were so close this time, though!" you argued, but even you were starting to doubt that.

Soonyoung groaned, flopping onto the floor. "I thought this would be the one…"

"Well, it wasn't. And I need a break before I actually start throwing hands." Seungkwan warns.

You sighed, sinking deeper into the floor. The admirer was winning. Again. And you were running out of ideas.

Somewhere out there, Mingyu was definitely laughing.

A knock echoed through the room. Your heart jumped. Reaching for the door, you find another letter. Your stomach twisted. The admirer had already delivered it. He knew, he must have waited until you were distracted, until you were busy sulking over another failed plan before sneaking in and leaving this behind. You clenched your jaw. He was taunting you.

Seungkwan sighed, flopping onto the couch. "We lost again."

But you weren’t ready to admit defeat. You slowly opened the letter, your fingers brushing over the familiar handwriting.

“It’s interesting watching you try to figure this out. I wonder if you’ll ever catch on or if I’ll have to spell it out for you one day. You looked frustrated earlier. I know you hate it when things don’t make sense, but sometimes, not knowing is part of the fun. Not everything has to be a puzzle to solve, maybe I'm right in front of you. Still, I’m curious—how’s the investigation going? I guess I already know.”

-

The note says:

"Your favourite, hope you aren't mad anymore. Oh and to remind you, don’t finish this in one go. I know how much you love it but eating it all in one day might just lead to a cold! I won't be able to bear to see you sniffle with a red nose, especially when you're already so adorable. Take care of yourself, okay? I’m sure you don’t want to be caught with a runny nose.”

There you stand holding the tub of half baked Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream. The combination of chocolate and vanilla ice cream with cookie dough and brownie chunks, your absolute favorite. You take a deep breath, a little smile tugging at your lips, but the mystery of the admirer still weighs heavy on your chest.

You stride over to the kitchen, grabbing a spoon from the drawer and making your way to the couch. You plop down, the tub in your lap and start digging in. The cold ice cream melts quickly on your tongue, soothing some of your earlier frustration. You scoop up another generous bite and let the flavors settle as you think.

Then, you grab your phone, typing away in the group chat. You snap a quick selfie, spoon still in your mouth, with the ice cream tub beside you. With a smirk, you send it out to the group chat:

Y/N: "Whoever got me this, thanks! But I'm still angry. If you don’t reveal yourself soon… you might just regret it."

Six

February 12th.

"You’ve been looking everywhere, hahah. Searching, questioning, analyzing... but sometimes, the answer is closer than you think. It’s easy to overlook the obvious when you’re searching too hard. But I don’t mind, I like watching you figure things out even if you’re terribly off track. Don’t forget to rest, okay? Also, I know you skip meals when you’re too busy, don’t do that. Take care of yourself, because someone out there cares enough to remind you every day."

-

"It's been six days!" he groans. "And still no clue who this admirer is?"

Seungkwan sighs, peering over his shoulder. "At this point, I’m starting to consider Soonyoung's idea that we’re dealing with a ghost."

Mingyu and Chan lean in, trying to catch a glimpse of the note. Mingyu’s heart beats faster not just from curiosity but from something else entirely.

Then, something clicks in your mind. Without a word, you dive into your bag shuffling through its contents in a frenzy. The others watch with curiosity as you pull out all six letters, carefully laying them side by side across the table.

Mingyu watches as your eyes scan each letter, analyzing every word, every phrase. His pulse quickens. Are you finally piecing it together? Are you about to turn to him, grab his collar and pull him in and kiss? Will you tell him you’ve known all along, that you’ve felt the same way, that he’s been in your heart just as you’ve been in his? He inches closer slowly, hoping to make it easier for you to reach for him when you want to pull him in. And then you gasp loudly.

Soonyoung jumps forward. “What? What is it?”

Your eyes widen, mouth agape in disbelief. “I—I think I know who it is.”

The room goes silent. Mingyu barely breathes.

You turn to the group, your expression resolute. “It’s Jeonghan.”

Mingyu’s heart stops. A crushing weight settles in his chest as his two-minute fantasy shatters in an instant. The imagined confession, the kiss, the overwhelming relief of finally being known is now gone.

"Jeonghan?" Seungkwan echoes, stunned.

You nod, “Think about it! The letters keep hinting that the answer is closer than I think, that I’m overlooking something obvious. And I completely dismissed Jeonghan before because I figured he’d be too lazy to go through all this effort.”

Soonyoung frowns. “That still seems like a stretch.”

“No, listen! Jeonghan was the one who told us the admirer isn’t ready to reveal himself yet, which means he knows who it is, because it's him! He was also there when I talked about the necklace. The admirer sent me one a few days later. That’s not a coincidence!” The group exchanges glances, mulling over your logic. “And,” you continue, “the letters keep saying I’m terribly off track. Who else could it be but the one person I never seriously considered?”

Mingyu stays quiet, watching as you piece together a puzzle with the wrong pieces. He clenches his jaw as you match all the clues to Jeonghan, not realizing that in your eagerness to connect the dots, you missed the most obvious thing of all. It's HIM that you never considered. Not even once.

He was the one listening when you spoke about the necklace. He was the one who spent hours writing each letter. He was the one who paid attention to every detail. He was the one who knew you so well he could predict your reactions before you even had them. He was the one who had been right in front of you all along. He was the one watching you search, waiting for the moment your eyes would finally land on him, but instead, you’ve drawn the wrong conclusion. Was he that unimportant? That invisible to you?

His heart sinks lower and lower as you present your case, completely unaware of the storm raging inside him. What will you do when you realize the truth? When you finally see what’s been in front of you this entire time? Will it be too late?

Seungkwan and Soonyoung looked at each other before nodding in agreement. “You know what? That actually makes sense,” Seungkwan says, arms crossed. “It has to be Jeonghan.”

Soonyoung says, “Honestly, the more I think about it, the more obvious it seems. He’s been here the whole time, just messing with us like always.”

Chan, who had been nervously eyeing the letters earlier, exhales in relief. “Well, at least that means it’s not me.” He mutters, sinking into his seat, visibly relaxed now that he’s off the suspect list.

Everyone’s looking at you, and in their eyes, you see the same thing. Certainty. You’ve convinced them. The mystery is nearly solved.

“You’re 100% sure?” Mingyu finally speaks, his voice light.

“No. 99. I just need to be 1% more sure.”

But for a moment you feel a strange hesitation, a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you that you haven’t even considered how you feel about Jeonghan being your admirer. You were too caught up in the thrill of the mystery, in chasing after the truth that you forgot it involved real emotions. That someone out there has been writing to you with real feelings, with intention. Do you even want to know? What if the truth doesn’t match the version of the story you’ve built in your head? What if it’s not who you expect, not who you secretly hoped for? What if it’s not Jeonghan? Or what if it is? And what does it say about you that the thought makes your stomach twist? That, deep down, some foolish part of you already knows whose name you wish to see at the end of those letters? Not Jeonghan. Not Jihoon. Not Vernon. Not Chan. Not anyone you’ve guessed so far. What if the one person you want it to be is the same person you’ve already ruled out? The one who’s always felt just a little out of reach. The one you’ve spent years convincing yourself is too much, too good, too impossible, because the thought of him being your secret admirer is too absurd. Too ridiculous. Right? But you shake the thought away and turn to Mingyu, your most trusted ally in this.

“You’re close with Jeonghan,” you say, eyes locking onto his. “Out of everyone, he’ll lower his guard around you the most. Can you help me fish him out?”

Mingyu stiffens for a fraction of a second, but no one notices. His heart sinks at how easily you place your trust in him, at how confidently you believe in something so wrong. But he doesn’t know how to say no to you. He never has. So he forces a small smile, nodding even as his chest tightens. “Yeah… sure. I’ll help.”

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to fish out of Jeonghan when the admirer you’re searching for is him.

He forces himself to keep a neutral expression as Seungkwan and Soonyoung excitedly discuss possible ways to corner Jeonghan into confessing. Chan listens with mild amusement, occasionally throwing in a comment but Mingyu barely hears any of it. His thoughts are drowning in the bitter irony of the situation.

This was supposed to be his moment. A dull ache settles in his chest, an uncomfortable tightness that won’t go away. Had he been so careful, so subtle, that you never even considered him? He swallows down the lump in his throat, gripping the edge of the table as he grounds himself. 

“Mingyu?”

He blinks, snapping out of his thoughts only to find you looking at him expectantly. “You okay?” you ask, brows slightly furrowed.

He should say something. Laugh, tease, pretend everything is fine, but all he can manage is a weak nod. “Yeah,” he lies. “Just… thinking.”

Seungkwan snorts. “Thinking too hard. Come on, we need you on this. You know Jeonghan best.”

Mingyu forces a smile. Yeah, he knows Jeonghan well but more than that, he knows you and right now, he knows that you’re chasing the wrong person. And worst of all, he has to help you do it.

-

The air carries a faint warmth of the afternoon sun, but it does nothing to ease the cold ache settling in Mingyu’s chest. He nudges Chan and looks at you, “It’s getting late. We should head home.”

You nod, stretching slightly before gathering your things. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As you, Mingyu, and Soonyoung step out onto the streets, the golden light catches in your hair, turning it into something almost ethereal. Mingyu sees it but his heart feels heavy, weighed down by the thoughts swirling in his mind. The moment you confidently said Jeonghan’s name, the moment you smiled as if you had solved the puzzle, it had been like a dull knife sinking into his chest. A slow, dragging pain that refused to go away. It hurts. Really, really hurts. But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t let it show. Instead, he walks beside you, nodding and responding when necessary, pretending everything is fine.

By the time he drops you off at your dorm, his emotions are stretched thin, barely holding together. You wrap an arm around him, pressing yourself into his side in a casual hug. His breath hitches, but he forces himself to stay still. The warmth of your body against his should be comforting but it only reminds him of how far away you actually are.

“Don’t forget to talk to Jeonghan, okay?” you remind him, looking up at him with those bright, expectant eyes. “Let me know what he says.”

“I will.”

You disappear behind your door, and just like that, you’re gone.

Mingyu bids Soonyoung bye and stands there for a moment before turning on his heel and walking away. But he doesn’t go home.

Instead, he finds himself by the river, the city hums softly in the distance but here, it’s quieter, just the occasional ripple of water, the faint rustling of leaves. The soju bottle in his hand is already half-empty but the bitterness of it barely registers on his tongue.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to tell you when you inevitably ask about Jeonghan. He doesn’t know how to fake a conversation that never happened. He doesn’t know how to face you, knowing that you had every clue and still, still didn’t see him. He had waited; waited patiently, watched you go through your theories, your excitement, your endless blabbering about clues. He never snapped, never broke character, because he truly believed you would figure it out. That at the end of this little fun, you would finally turn to him and say his name with certainty. But you never did, and that’s what hurts the most. Not that Jeonghan, who was completely uninvolved, was about to be wrongfully accused. But that when you looked for the one who adored you, the one who knew you inside and out, the one who had spent every day thinking of ways to make you smile—you didn’t recognize him.

Still, if nothing else, at least he gave you something exciting. At least, for a few days, he gave you a mystery to solve, a thrill to chase. Even if in the end, he was the one left behind.

-

The almost-emptied bottle is plucked from Mingyu’s loose grip. He blinks, sluggish from both the alcohol and the weight pressing down on his heart and looks up to find Jeonghan standing over him. The older man wears his usual smile, one that could mean a hundred different things but his eyes tell another story, one that sees right through Mingyu’s poor attempt at pretending he’s fine.

Mingyu doesn’t say anything. He just turns his gaze back to the river, watching the water ripple under the dim glow of streetlights. Jeonghan exhales softly, before sitting down beside him. He doesn’t speak, or pry. He simply stays, settling Mingyu in a way that only a longtime friend can.

For a while, the only sound between them was the distant buzz of the city, and the lapping of the river against the banks.

Then, Mingyu finally breaks the silence. “She thinks it’s you,” his voice hoarse, the weight of the evening settling deeper into his bones. “She really, really thinks it’s you.” He lets out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “When the answer was right in front of her the whole time.” 

Jeonghan remains quiet, just listening.

“I’m not mad,” Mingyu continues, “I shouldn’t be mad. I’m just… a little hurt.” He pauses, gripping his knees. “No, actually… I am hurt.” His throat tightens. “I don’t even know why it hurts this much, but…”

He trails off, exhaling sharply before looking down at his hands.

“I thought she’d get there eventually. I really thought she would.” His voice drops to hissed tone “I waited. I watched her figure out her little theories, set up her stupid traps, get all excited over the mystery… and I was patient. I thought, ‘Any day now, she’ll turn around, she’ll realize, she’ll see me.’” Mingyu swallows, “But she never did.”

He doesn’t know why it’s so easy to say these things to Jeonghan, maybe because Jeonghan is good at keeping secrets, at holding things close without judgment. Maybe because Jeonghan doesn’t rush to give meaningless comfort but just stays.

Mingyu drags a hand down his face, exhaling bitterly. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do tomorrow. She wants me to ask you about the admirer—to ‘fish’ something out of you.” He lets out a dry laugh. “What the hell am I supposed to fish out of you, Jeonghan?”

Jeonghan finally speaks, his voice calm but softer, something that understands. “Well, I could always confess to being her secret admirer. She's not bad.”

Despite himself, Mingyu snorts, shaking his head. “Not funny.”

Jeonghan leans back on his palms, looking up at the night sky. “You’re hurting because you care. Because you love her and you wanted her to see you without you having to say it outright.” He tilts his head toward Mingyu. “But love doesn’t always work like that, you know?” Mingyu doesn’t answer. Jeonghan sighs. "If it's hurting this much, then maybe you should ask yourself why you're still holding on."

Mingyu stays silent for a long moment before finally admitting, “I wanted to make it exciting. I wanted it to be something she’d remember.” He clenches his fists. “But it all just went wrong.”

“She’ll figure it out eventually,” Jeonghan says a little too knowingly.

Mingyu huffs, unconvinced. “What if she doesn’t?”

Jeonghan shrugs. “Then maybe it’s time you stop waiting for her to find you and let her see you instead.”

Mingyu doesn’t respond. He just looks out at the river again, letting Jeonghan’s words sink in. 

He simply lets the silence stretch out and finally after what feels like hours, Jeonghan stands up, brushing off his pants, “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.” His voice is soft, the teasing edge absent for the moment.

Mingyu nods, not trusting himself to speak. He watches Jeonghan walk away, the older man’s figure swallowed by the night, before his gaze drifts back to the river. He takes a deep breath trying to clear his mind but nothing seems to work. His heart still aches for you, for the way you’ll probably look at him tomorrow, expecting him to just play along, asking questions he has no answers to.

Seven

February 13th

“I wonder if you’ll figure it out or if I’ll have to spell it out for you. You looked happy yesterday. I hope it stays that way. I hope whoever I am to you, whoever I will be, gets to see that happiness every day. Maybe this whole thing was ridiculous. Maybe I should’ve just told you from the start. But I guess I wanted to see. To know if you’d ever look my way without me having to say it first.

See you soon.”

-

The elevator doors slide open and you step in, jabbing the button for the sixth floor with more force than necessary. The doors close, but your mind is still racing, still stuck on the morning’s events.

Jeonghan had shown up at your dorm today, standing at your door with his usual lazy smile, but soft eyes. “I heard you think it’s me,” he had said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

You had opened your mouth to defend yourself, to explain the logic, to lay out all the pieces that led you to him, the way all the clues lined up in your head but before you could get a word out, he had sighed, shaking his head saying it's not him and just like that, everything crumbled. Because he wasn’t lying. You could hear it in his voice, see it in the way he looked at you, not with amusement, not with mischief, but with something almost like pity.

“You’re hurting him, you know,” he had added, too softly, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

You had stiffened at that. “What?”

Jeonghan had just sighed again, then pulled you into a quick hug, arms warm around you, like he knew you needed the comfort. Then he had sat you down, looked you in the eye and said, “You’re misdirected, miserably so.”

You had thought you were getting closer, thought you were connecting the dots but you were connecting the wrong ones. Seven days. Seven days of chasing a ghost and you were nowhere.

It felt like you had been running in circles, grasping at shadows, only to be led astray at every turn. It wasn’t that you were upset Jeonghan wasn’t the secret admirer. No, that wasn’t what frustrated you. It was the fact that despite everything, you still couldn’t figure it out. You had failed. And then failed again.

After hearing Jeonghan out, you should have let it go, let your mind rest but something wouldn’t let you. Mingyu. You needed to hear what he had to say too. Jeonghan had been honest with you, and you believed him, but you still wanted to hear it from Mingyu’s mouth. What had he talked about with Jeonghan yesterday? Did he come to the same conclusion? Did he know Jeonghan wasn’t the admirer?

You weren’t sure why it mattered. Maybe it was because you trusted them both, maybe it was because you were still desperately searching for a lead, even if it meant going over the same conversation twice.

So now, here you are, frustrated and restless, storming into Mingyu’s apartment without so much as a knock, letting the door swing shut behind you. Mingyu, who had been standing by the kitchen counter, blinks in surprise as you march past him and collapse onto his couch.

“I can’t figure it out,” you groan, covering your face with your hands. “Seven days, and I’ve gotten nothing.”

Mingyu doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you as he grabs a glass, pouring you some orange juice before walking over and setting it in front of you. You peek at him through your fingers. He's too quiet. Still, you sit up, grabbing the glass but barely paying attention to it. “Jeonghan came over this morning,” you start, swirling the juice in your hands. “He told me it’s not him.”

Mingyu hums, lowering himself onto the couch beside you but not too close like before; after what happened yesterday.

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “I mean, it makes sense now. My whole theory was just coincidence. But if it’s not him, then who?” You run a hand through your hair. “It’s like I’m playing Mafia game but worse—no real clues, no real strategy, just me failing over and over again.”

Mingyu swallows, looking away. Failing? No. Just blind. You don’t notice the way his fingers tighten around his knees, his shoulders curling in just slightly. You don’t notice him. “You trust Jeonghan, right?” he asks finally, his voice careful, controlled.

You nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Then why are you here?” His voice is steady but there’s something just barely restrained underneath. “What do you need from me?”

You hesitate, tilting your head. “I just… I wanted to hear what you talked about with Jeonghan yesterday.” You let out a breath. “I trust you both, but I wanted to see if you came to the same conclusion.”

Mingyu’s heart sinks after knowing you’re here for that. He nods slowly, fingers curling into fists against his legs. “Right.”

You don’t notice his jaw tightening, his expression flickering for half a second before smoothing over. You don’t see how the very person you’ve been searching for is sitting right beside you, falling apart. And Mingyu just listens because what else can he do?

The deeper hurt comes from the fact that he still loves you, and he's been waiting for you to realize it, but instead, you’ve been focused on other possibilities. He’s trying his best to stay supportive and patient, but it’s hard for him to keep his distance while you’re upset and trying to figure things out. There's a sense of loneliness in how he’s been handling everything on his own, even though he’s surrounded by people who care about him. He feels like he's been the quiet one in the background hoping you’d see him, but you haven’t. Now, hearing you rant about your failed attempts and frustrations, he feels both comforted and hurt—comforted that you trust him enough to vent to him, but hurt that, despite his feelings, you’re still unsure of him as the person who’s been giving you all those gifts and letters. He’s torn between wanting to confess his feelings, but knowing how much it would hurt to be rejected or overlooked again. He wants to be the one you turn to, the one you lean on when things get hard so in this moment, he's just there for you, listening, because that's what friends do, even when their heart is breaking.

-

Your voice is sharp with frustration as you pace around Mingyu’s apartment, fists clenched at your sides.“I just don’t get it,” you say, shaking your head. “Who would go through all this effort?”

Mingyu, watching you from where he sits on the couch, his heart aching, simply mutters, “I would.”

But it slips past you. You’re too caught up in your thoughts, too wrapped up in your own confusion to hear the weight behind his words. He watches as you continue to storm around, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying anything more.

Then something shifts. Maybe it’s the way he remains so still while you’re falling apart or maybe it’s the way his presence has always felt steady. But whatever it is, it pushes something inside you to snap.

"Why aren’t you saying anything?" You turn on him suddenly, as you throw another jab that Mingyu doesn’t deserve. He sits there, the heart inside him breaking. "You always have something to say, Mingyu. Always. But now, when I actually need someone to help me figure this out, you’re just sitting there looking at me like I’m missing something obvious!"

Mingyu exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. He’s been patient. So patient. But this is agony, watching you fight for an answer when he’s been in front of you the whole time. Watching you tear yourself apart over this, over something that was meant to be a confession of love. "Maybe because you are missing something obvious," he finally says, voice measured, but there’s an edge to it now.

Your brows furrow as you take a step toward him, your heart pounding for a reason you don’t understand. "Then tell me, Mingyu! What am I missing?"

His gaze hardens, but beneath the frustration, it's more vulnerable than ever. "You really want me to spell it out for you?"

"Yes!"

And suddenly, it hits you like a freight train crashing into your chest. Mingyu.

It’s always been him. You love him. Not in the way you love your friends. Not in the way you once thought love was supposed to feel. But in the way that makes your chest ache, in the way that makes your heart race even when you’re angry. You don’t care who the secret admirer is. You don’t need to figure it out anymore. Because it doesn’t matter. It never did. Because you love Mingyu. And you always have. It’s not that you never considered him, it’s that you forced yourself not to. Mingyu was too kind, too good, too perfect. He was the type of person every girl wanted, and you were just lucky enough to call him one of your closest friends. It was easier to pretend, easier to ignore your feelings than to face the possibility of rejection. Because the truth was, if you had acknowledged your feelings, it would have hurt too much to know he didn’t feel the same way. But now, as you really look at him, you realize just how foolish you’ve been. You love him.

Even now, as you lash out at him unfairly, he stays patient. Even though your words are cutting, he doesn’t push you away. He listens, endures, and understands, and that’s what hurts the most. "Wait…" Your voice comes out quieter now, your anger dissipating into something raw. "Do you… do you know something?"

Mingyu stares at you, disbelieving. His patience, his restraint, it all crumbles in an instant. "…Seriously?"

He grabs a piece of paper from the table, scrawls something quickly, and thrusts it into your hands. You look down.

“It’s me, dummy.”

The world stills.

Your breath catches as you read the words over and over again, the realization crashes into you like a wave, sweeping away every doubt, every misdirection, every foolish assumption you’ve made in the past week. It was always Mingyu. Your fingers tighten around the paper as your heart pounds against your ribs. You lift your gaze, meeting his, and suddenly everything makes sense; the lingering stares, the way he was always there, how he looked at you like you hung the stars in his sky. The sadness in his eyes earlier wasn’t just frustration; it was heartbreak. And you had been the one breaking him all along.

Mingyu watches you, his eyes holding everything. The years of waiting, the longing, the pain of standing so close yet feeling miles away. His confession wasn’t grand, wasn’t how he planned. It was raw, impulsive, torn from him in a moment of breaking. And now, he waits. For you to understand, for you to say something, for anything.

Your lips part but no words come because how do you speak when your heart is in your throat, when the very foundation of what you thought you knew has shifted beneath your feet? It was always Mingyu. The notes. The gifts. The presence. And you had spent all this time searching for someone who had never been lost.

“Mingyu…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he hears it. He always hears you.

His hands clench at his sides, bracing himself for whatever comes next. You can see it in the tension coiling just below his cheekbone, his breathing is just a little unsteady. He’s terrified, because now that you know, you could break him all over again.

But you don't want to break him this time. You've already broken him enough.

You simply step closer, so close he can feel the warmth radiating from you. His body stiffens when you reach for a piece of paper behind him, taking it from the table. Without a word, you flip it over, your fingers moving as you scribble something down. The tension of the past week melting into something softer, and new.

Then, before he can process it, you step in even closer reaching toward him, slipping the folded paper into the pocket of his hoodie. Your fingers brush against the fabric, barely grazing him but it’s enough to send a shiver down his spine. Mingyu blinks, startled, his hand instinctively reaching into his pocket as you take a step back. His fingers find the note, unfolding it with a mix of hesitation and urgency. His eyes scan the words, and his breath hitches.

"Tomorrow, dinner at 7? My treat, Secret Admirer."

For the first time in what feels like forever, a slow stunned smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He looks up at you, hope flickering in his eyes, searching for confirmation. And when you finally meet his gaze, your own lips curling into the softest, most knowing smile Mingyu knows.

A disbelieving laugh escapes him as he runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging with relief. The tension that had been weighing on him for weeks, even years, unravels all at once, “you’re serious?” 

You tilt your head, your smile growing just a little. “Would I offer to pay if I wasn’t?”

Mingyu lets out a full, genuine laugh this time, shaking his head as he folds the note carefully, tucking it back into his pocket. “Tomorrow at seven,” he repeats, savoring the words.

But as soon as the weight of everything settles in, what just happened and what it means, you suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to run. Your heart is racing, your palms are clammy, and you don’t trust yourself to speak without making a fool of yourself. So, without thinking, you turn on your heel, ready to flee. But you don’t get far.

Mingyu’s hand wraps around your wrist in an instant, stopping you mid-step and before you can process it, you’re spun around, your momentum pulling you straight into him. You gasp as your body collides with his chest, the warmth of him, the solidness of him, momentarily knocking the breath out of you. His other hand finds its way to your waist instinctively, and your brain short-circuits.

His fingers glide up, brushing against your cheek, his touch so gentle it sends a shiver down your spine. You force yourself to look up at him, only to be met with the most breathtaking sight; Mingyu gazing down at you with that smile. Not just any smile, a smile that steals your breath, that makes the whole world blur at the edges. His slightly tousled hair falls over his forehead, the soft strands brushing against his brows making him look effortlessly perfect in a way that shouldn’t be fair. Your heart slams against your ribs.

Mingyu tilts his head slightly as he murmurs, “Now you can run away.” His lips curl into that signature mixture of a smile and smirk, teasing yet affectionate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “Oh, and don’t forget—you have a class to attend.” 

Your eyes widen slightly as the reminder crashes into you but Mingyu simply chuckles, finally letting go of your waist but not before leaning in just slightly, just enough to fluster you even more. The absence of his touch is almost immediate, leaving behind a warmth that lingers.

Mingyu now steps back, grinning as he watches your flustered expression unfold and as you stumble over your words, scrambling for any semblance of composure, he just stands there looking entirely too pleased with himself. He's already looking forward to tomorrow.

-

The sight in front of you is nothing short of chaos.

Seungkwan's grip on his iced Americano slips as he processes the revelation, and without thinking, you reach out, catching the cup just before it crashes to the floor. A few drops spill onto your hand, the cold seeping into your skin, but you're too preoccupied to see it.

Seungkwan looks utterly defeated. Soonyoung, however, isn't faring any better. His mouth hangs open, his entire body frozen and his brain is still buffering.

"You mean to tell me—" Seungkwan starts, his voice high-pitched, "Mingyu?! Clumsy-ass, can’t-lie-to-save-his-life, trips-over-air Mingyu?!"

You nod.

They had too dismissed the possibility at first, thinking there was no way he could pull off something so sly. Not when his entire history was filled with clumsy mistakes and awkward cover-ups. The Mingyu they knew was many things, but a master of deception? Not a chance. And yet, here you three were, blindsided.

They had spent the entire morning preparing themselves to comfort you, fully expecting you to be in shambles after your 99% certainty that Jeonghan was your secret admirer turned out to be 100% wrong. When Jeonghan had told you in the morning that he wasn't the one, they thought you'd either be breaking down in devastation or burning something down in frustration (which, technically, you were). But they definitely hadn’t expected you to walk in with the revelation of your secret admirer.

Eight

February 14th

The moment you step out of your apartment, Mingyu’s breath catches in his throat.

He was supposed to have dinner with you at night for your first Valentine’s Day date, but he insisted on spending the day together before dinner. And now, here you are, standing in front of him with your hair down, looking confident and stylish in your new boots and skirt.

The delicate lavender gemstone around your neck catches the morning sunlight, its golden chain resting just above your collarbone on top of your sweater. You’re wearing the necklace—the one he gave you. And now, seeing it on you, knowing you chose to wear it today of all days, something warm and undeniable unfurls in his chest.

He clears his throat, trying to focus as he hands you a bouquet of lavender flowers nestled between soft pink roses. “For you,” he murmurs, watching closely for your reaction.

Your lips part as your fingers gently trace the petals. “Lavender…” you whisper, your gaze lifting to meet his.

Mingyu grins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. And roses, because…well, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Something tugs at your heart but before you can dwell on it, he’s taking your hand, leading you toward the day he’s planned just for you.  Mingyu decides to take you everywhere.

-

The smell of warm pastries fills the air as you both settle into a booth. Mingyu insists you try his favorite pancakes. They’re stacked high, topped with whipped cream, and drizzled with syrup. You raise an eyebrow, skeptically eyeing the enormous portion.

“Okay, you have to try these,” he insists, pushing a plate of pancakes toward you. 

“Are you sure these are as good as you say?”

“Trust me, they’re life-changing,” Mingyu says practically bouncing in his seat, eager for you to try them.

You take a bite, and the fluffiness, the sweetness, the perfect amount of syrup, all of it hits your taste buds in a rush. You pause, eyes wide in surprise. “Okay, okay, I admit it. They’re that good.”

“See? I told you!” Mingyu grins. “Now, pass me the last bite.” You hold your fork up, about to take the last piece of pancake for yourself, when Mingyu leans across the table, “I’m not letting you have it that easily.”

“Oh, it’s on,” you smirk, holding the bite just out of reach. You raise an eyebrow, giving him a challenging look. “You want this last bite? You’re gonna have to work for it.”

He laughs, his voice full of amusement. “You’re really gonna make me fight for it?”

“Absolutely,” you say, digging in your heels and preparing for the battle.

And so begins the great pancake fight. You both fall into an exaggerated tug-of-war with the last piece of pancake. Mingyu’s laughter rings out, the sound infectious. Finally, you make a show of pretending to ‘fight’ for the last bite, your fork and his clashing in the air, until you grab it and pop it in your mouth. He glares at you mockingly, then laughs again, shrugging good-naturedly.

“I’ll get you next time,” he promises, and you roll your eyes.

After wiping syrup off your chin with a napkin, Mingyu stands up with a contented sigh, stretching his arms above his head. He looks down at you with a grin. "Alright, time to burn off all that sugar," he says, picking up the check and tossing a few bills onto the table. "Next stop—arcade!"

"An arcade? Really?"

"Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for."

You grab your bag, following him out of the café and into the crisp air. As you both walk down the street, Mingyu leads the way basically bouncing as you head toward the neon-lit arcade a few blocks away. The sound of clinking coins and cheerful music grows louder the closer you get, and you can feel the excitement building.

When you reach the entrance, Mingyu holds the door open for you with a flourish. "After you," he says with a grin.

You step inside, greeted by the flashing lights and the vibrant sounds of the arcade. It’s a bit overwhelming at first but then you hear Mingyu’s voice over the noise, full of enthusiasm.

“Let’s see if you can keep up!” Mingyu’s eyes light up the moment he sees a game he’s good at. You follow him, amused, and find yourself standing in front of a claw machine. The giant stuffed animals inside stare down at you, their big eyes unblinking. “I’m warning you now,” Mingyu says, his tone smug. “I’ve got a 100% success rate with these things.”

You roll your eyes. "Is that so? Well, I’m about to prove you wrong."

He grins and hands you some coins. “Sure, but don’t get too upset when I win.”

You laugh, stepping up to the claw machine and starting your attempt. The claw moves clumsily, completely missing the prize.

“See? Told you,” Mingyu teases, already stepping up to take his turn. His fingers hover over the controls, his focus making his brow furrow in concentration. "Watch and learn," he says, as he carefully maneuvers the claw. You can see the way he’s calculating every move, adjusting his grip with precision. With one smooth motion, the claw sinks perfectly into the plush bear's fur, and with a satisfying click, it hoists the stuffed animal up.

You’re left speechless for a moment as Mingyu snatches it from the prize chute, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He holds it out to you, the oversized bear almost comically larger than his own chest.

“Here,” he says, clearly too pleased with himself. “Told you I’d win.”

You take the bear, grinning in defeat. “Fine, you win this round. But I’m getting you back.”

“I’m not worried. Let’s see how you do in the next game.”

The competition continues, the two of you moving from machine to machine. Every game brings another round of teasing, laughter, and playful banter. Mingyu gets so competitive that his voice rises in exaggerated frustration when he loses and you can't help but giggle at how seriously he takes everything. At one point you're both doubled over in laughter, unable to breathe as Mingyu pretends to ‘fall’ into a virtual race car, his arms flailing as he crashes into the walls of the game.

By the end of it, you’re both out of breath and giggling uncontrollably, each sporting a ridiculous grin. You look at the stuffed animal still tucked under your arm and then back at Mingyu. “Guess it’s mine after all,” you say with a sigh, not bothering to hide the smile on your face.

Mingyu just laughs, his arm slipping around your shoulders. “Of course it is. You should know better by now.”

The sun is now setting as you both arrive at the park, the golden hour light casting everything in a warm, soft glow. Mingyu's carrying  a wicker basket in one hand, the other brushing through his hair as he looks for the perfect spot and you just follow, taking in the peaceful scenery.

He drops the basket beside a large, checkered blanket he’s already laid out, smoothing it down with care. There’s something so domestic about the whole setup, so surprisingly perfect. He places a few cushions on the blanket, pulling everything into place as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

As you sit down beside him, he smiles, a little shy. “Okay, here’s the moment of truth.” He opens the basket, revealing containers filled with food like homemade sandwiches, fresh fruit, a small salad, and a few pastries wrapped up neatly. It all looks perfectly arranged, the kind of meal you’d expect from someone who knows what they’re doing.

"You made all this?"

Mingyu nods proudly though there's a trace of nervousness in his expression. “Yep. Every single thing. I might not be a professional, but I can follow a recipe.”

You chuckle, “Well, we’ll see if it’s as good as they look.”

Without hesitation, you grab one of the sandwiches taking a big bite. The flavors hit you immediately—fresh, savory, and not so surprisingly, delicious. Your eyes widen as you chew, momentarily lost in the taste.

Mingyu watches you with a grin, anticipating your reaction. He bites his lip nervously, fingers drumming against the basket as he waits for your verdict.

The bread is perfectly toasted, the filling is perfectly seasoned, and it’s just... good. No surprise there. You’ve had his cooking many, many times by now and every time he manages to make even the simplest things taste like a five-star meal.

You glance up at him as you chew. “Not bad,” you say with a teasing smile though it’s a compliment disguised as a joke. “I’m actually kind of impressed. This is, what, your fiftieth time making me lunch?”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, I’ve got to keep you on your toes, right?” He looks at you with a mix of pride and that shy smile that’s too endearing. “I mean, it’s not that surprising, is it? I’ve been cooking for years.”

A small smile tugging at your lips. "True. You've always been the one to get way too competitive in the kitchen. But really, it's good. It's… annoyingly good, as usual."

He beams pleased by your reaction, “I’m glad you think so,” he says, his voice low and warm. He watches you take another bite before reaching for a small container of fruit. You can see the glint in his eyes like he’s genuinely happy to share something he’s put effort into with you.

Time melts away, the day slipping through your fingers like golden sunlight filtering through the trees. And then, as the sky deepens into hues of pink and orange, Mingyu, reaches into his bag, pulling out a box. He hands it to you, eyes soft but filled. “One more gift,” he says, his voice lower now, savoring this moment just as much as you are.

You carefully lift the lid of the box, your curiosity piqued. Inside are two candles, one shaped like a rotating heart, the other a Rubik’s cube, but with tiny hearts as the pieces. You look at them then up at him, your heart suddenly skipping a beat. 

“I made these,” his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the box. “The heart one… it reminded me of you. And the cube, well…” He lets out a soft chuckle, rubbing his thumb nervously over the box’s edge. “It felt like something I could make, something fun.”

You’re silent for a moment, taking in everything. There’s something about the care he’s put into every detail, the choices he made, the way he looked at you all day, it all makes your heart ache in the best way possible. “You made these?” you ask, your fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the candles, studying the intricate designs. There’s so much attention to detail, so much of him in every inch of them.

Mingyu nods, the corners of his lips curling upward as he watches your reaction. “Yeah. Picked the scents, the colors… everything.” You notice how his fingers twitch at his side, a nervous habit he doesn’t even realize he’s doing. “Do you like them?”

You don’t answer with words instead, you step closer, the soft rustling of the grass beneath barely registering as you close the distance between the two of you. Without a second thought, you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek softly against his chest.

There’s a brief stillness. You feel his breath catch, his heartbeat thumping in the space between you. His arms hesitate for a fraction of a second but, he pulls you closer. His hands find your back, his embrace steady, warm, like it was meant for this moment. He exhales slowly, the tension that had built throughout the day is finally melting away. “Thank you,” you say.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers into your hair, his voice barely a murmur, but full of all the unsaid things between you. His arms tighten around you, and you let yourself sink deeper into his embrace, savoring the quiet, the stillness, and the feeling of being exactly where you’re meant to be.

As the evening unfolds, the last stop of your day is quickly approaching: dinner. But before you can indulge in a fancy meal, Mingyu takes a slight detour.

He glances at you as you both drive toward your dorm. "Let’s stop by your place first. You need to drop off those stuffed animals," he says with a grin, glancing over at the pile of plush toys filling the backseat.

You chuckle, nodding. "Good idea. I’m not sure how much more my arms can handle."

When you arrive, you grab the stuffed animals one by one, making your way into the dorm. Mingyu follows, standing by the door as you carefully place each one in its spot. There’s a chuckle in the air as you look at the growing collection. "You know," you say with a smile, "I’m going to need a bigger bed at this point."

"I'll help you make room," Mingyu says easily, his voice light as he stands in the doorway, watching you. 

Once the stuffed animals are safely tucked away, you both head back to the car, driving to the destination. Arriving at the restaurant, Mingyu opens the door for you, his presence is as attentive as ever. The place is just as elegant as you remembered when you booked it, soft candlelight, a cozy ambiance, and the murmur of other patrons creating the perfect atmosphere for an unforgettable night.

Dinner is everything you could’ve hoped for. The food is exquisite, the conversation flowing naturally between the two of you as if this was just another evening together. There’s no need for pretension, no need to try too hard. Everything feels easy, comfortable, and perfect.

When the check arrives, you reach for your wallet instinctively but Mingyu is already one step ahead. "Nope," he says firmly, his smile still warm and gentle as he pushes your hand away. "I insist. I’m treating you tonight."

You give him a mock pout, raising an eyebrow. "But I was supposed to pay! Remember our deal?"

"I know," he says, his voice a little playful, a little serious. "But you’ve already made this day so special. Let me do this, okay?" His smile grows as he sees the look in your eyes that says, You’re not getting out of this one.

Sighing dramatically but with a fond smile, you relent. "Fine. But next time, it’s on me."

He nods, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips as he settles the bill. As the two of you leave the restaurant, the night feels like it’s already wrapped in a perfect little bow.

By the time you arrive to his place, it feels as if the day has come full circle, every moment leading to this one, this next step, whatever it may be.

Mingyu pulls into the parking spot and without a word, he opens the door for you, his hand brushing yours as you both step out. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes your heart flutter.

As the door closes behind you both, Mingyu sets his suit jacket down, now left only in his black button-down shirt. You, on the other hand, sink into the couch, not sure what to do or say next. It’s 9 p.m., and you’ve got an hour left before you have to return to your dorm. The day has been filled with so much laughter and moments that have made your heart race and now here you are, in his cozy apartment, not quite ready for it to end.

As you sit there lost in your thoughts, you don’t expect what happens next. Mingyu extends his hand toward you, his fingers beckoning in the soft glow of the room inviting you into his space, into his arms. You don’t hesitate for a second, your hand finding his without a second thought, letting him pull you up to your feet. And then he naturally begins to guide you into a slow dance. The music in the background is soft, almost a whisper, but it doesn’t matter as it’s the rhythm of your hearts that sets the pace now.

You take a step forward, your chest brushing gently against his. Mingyu stays perfectly still, like he’s holding his breath, as if afraid to break the spell. There’s a delicate tension between you, a space between your lips that’s filled only with the moment.

Your fingers glide along the collar of his shirt, drawn to him by some unseen force and you lean in just slightly, “You never really told me why you chose lavender.”

Mingyu’s eyes flicker to yours, his gaze soft, intense and filled with a sincerity that makes your heart race a little faster. His hands find their place on your waist but he hesitates for a fraction of a second before pulling you even closer, the heat from his palms burning through the fabric of your sweater, leaving a trace of his warmth on your skin.

His breath is warm against your ear as he speaks, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Because,” he says, his lips grazing your ear, “it reminds me of you… and it's your favourite”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart stuttering in your chest. You didn’t expect him to say something like this, leaving you speechless for a moment. You can feel the room closing in around you, the mood lights casting soft shadows that only make the space between you two feel even more intimate. The world outside feels distant now, irrelevant. All that matters is the way Mingyu holds you, the way he makes everything feel right.

Then in a surprising and tender move, Mingyu slowly sinks to one knee, his gaze never leaving yours. His hands still linger on your waist, steadying himself as he looks up at you with a soft, genuine smile. “I’ve had the best day with you, and I can’t imagine my days without you anymore,” he says, his voice filled, his heart in his eyes. “So... I need to ask you, officially… will you be my girlfriend?”

The room feels even smaller now, the moment so heavy with emotion that it’s almost suffocating in the best way possible. Your breath catches in your throat, your pulse quickening as his words settle in your mind. Your heart swells with joy as you look down at him, knowing that you’ve both come this far, knowing that this is more than just a question. 

“Yes.” The word escapes your lips and as soon as it’s out, Mingyu’s smile stretches wide, that same smile that makes everything around you fade into the background. His eyes sparkle with joy, and you swear it’s like he’s glowing. You can feel a warmth fill your chest, overwhelming.

He stands up, his grin still never faltering and leans in, resting his forehead against yours. There’s no need for words now; the silence between you is thick with meaning, with a thousand unspoken things that only the two of you understand. 

But as the joy of the moment settles in, a sudden realization makes your heart tighten and it feels heavy in your chest. A thought flashes through your mind that makes your throat close up and your chest ache.

You think about how you never really noticed Mingyu. How you were blind to him, how you failed to see him for what he was to you. How, all along, he was there, patient and constant, while you kept pushing him away, thinking he was just a friend. He was the secret admirer you never even considered and he had carried all that weight on his own. He never lashed out. He never got angry. Instead, he waited. He never gave up on you, never turned away, even when you hurt him again and again with your obliviousness. A rush of guilt floods through you. The thought of how much you put him through, how you always doubted yourself thinking he was too good for you, never giving him the chance to show you how much he cared, it makes your heart ache in a way you can’t explain.

“Mingyu,” you murmur, pulling back just slightly so you can look into his eyes, searching for the words to say, what’s been buried inside you for so long. “I need to tell you something.”

He tilts his head, his smile softening as he waits, already knowing something heavy is coming.

“I always liked you,” you admit, the words trembling on your lips, finally finding their way into the open air. “But I never came to terms with it, because I was scared. I was scared that if I let myself believe it, it would only end in disappointment. You’re… you’re so out of my league, Mingyu. You’re the kind of person every woman dreams of. And me? I’m just lucky to be one of your closest friends. I didn’t want to push my luck, to ask for more.” You take a breath, “I never thought you’d choose me. I never thought I could be more than just your friend. But then you were always so kind, so patient with me even when I didn’t see it. You carried all of that on your own and I’m sorry for that. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known what was right in front of me. And if you never confessed, I might’ve never been able to say this to you… but I like you, Mingyu. I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

The moment you finish, everything feels still. His eyes widen, his lips part slightly but he doesn’t speak and neither do you. It’s like time has frozen and all you can do is stand there, your heart racing, waiting for him to process what you’ve said. The silence is deafening and yet it’s comforting, because it feels like this is the most real thing you’ve ever said.

Mingyu stands still for a moment, his hand still resting lightly on your waist and then slowly, his expression changes. “I don’t want you to ever doubt yourself,” he finally says. “You’re everything I could ever want, and more. I didn’t care about being the man of every woman’s dreams, because all I ever wanted was you.” He lifts his hand to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “I waited because I knew it would be worth it,” he adds, his eyes never leaving yours. “And now, I’m just… so glad I did.”

Tears prick at your eyes as the full weight of his words hits you, and before you can stop them, a tear slips down your cheek. Mingyu wipes it away kindly, his smile full of so much love that it nearly breaks you.

“You never hurt me, you know,” he says lovingly, “because I knew we’d get here eventually. And now, all I want is for you to know that I’m here. Always here for you no matter what happens.”

Mingyu doesn't like you, but loves you, more than you ever thought possible. He'd never needed anyone else because all along, you were enough. No one else could compare to you in his eyes. The thought of being with anyone else never crossed his mind, because it was always you.

You tiptoe and press a soft kiss on his lips, an apology for the past misunderstandings, a rush of emotions fills your chest. You pull away but before you can even fully pull back, his hands are already on your waist, drawing you back to him. His lips find yours again, this time with a hunger that makes your stomach flip, a desperation that feels almost uncontainable. His kiss is deep, slow, and deliberate and the weight of it is enough to knock the breath out of you. "Mingyu..." you murmur against his lips, your body melting into his warmth. His grip tightens ever so slightly, his body stiffening in worry. He pulls away, chest heaving with shallow breaths. His voice is laced with uncertainty though it trembles with desire.

"Tell me to stop," he says, low and unsteady, "And I will."

For a moment you just look at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. But there's nothing. His love for you is written in every inch of him, in the way his fingers gently graze your cheek, in the way his breath catches when you shift closer.

You lean in again, closing the space between you. The moment your lips meet, he kisses you slow, deep and it makes your heart race. His hand moves from your cheek to your back, pulling you flush against him and you can feel every beat of his heart against yours. There's nothing hurried about it, just slow, careful movements that send sparks flying in your veins making you feel like you're floating. Everything is perfectly, wonderfully right.

He knows that this time, you see him. This time you see the admirer is right in front of you.

-

“To the one who has always been right in front of me,

I used to write these letters with the hope that one day, you’d realize it was me. That somehow, my words would reach you before I had to say them out loud. But today, I don’t need to hide behind words anymore.

You know me now—not just as the admirer, but as Mingyu. And I know you, not as someone I can only love from afar, but as someone who chose me back. Still, I wanted to write this—one last letter, not as a confession, but as a promise. A promise that I’ll keep looking at you the way I always have. That I’ll love you not just in grand gestures, but in the small moments too, the ones where love isn’t loud, but it’s there, steady and certain.

So here. This time, I’m not slipping it into a locker or leaving it on a table. I’m giving it to you with my own hands, looking right at you, so you know—this has always been real.

Yours, always.

— Mingyu”

Lee Y/N @y/nisnot_sleeping · 1h  

Been mine for a while now…

♡ 4        🔁 -      🗨️ 4

Boo @americano_.boo · 57m

Replying to @y/nisnot_sleeping  

Did you just ditch us for THIS ?¡?%&!? 

♡ 2        🔁 -      🗨️ 1

yoon ★ @yjh1004 · 49m  

Replying to @y/nisnot_sleeping  

Finally!!!!

♡ 3        🔁 -      🗨️ -

Chan @dinonaras.ltd · 45m  

Replying to @y/nisnot_sleeping  

🫢🫢🫢

♡ 2        🔁 -      🗨️ -

Chan @dinonaras.ltd · 44m  

Replying to @americano_.boo  

where is @horang_m_a_n ?? crying in the corner because the investigation flopped?

♡ -        🔁 -      🗨️ -

⌦ 💌 © mylovesstuffs | est. 2025. thank you for reading—your reblog means everything. until we meet again, stay cozy and keep dreaming! ◜ᴗ◝

[must-have-been-thewind]

I've seen a lot of these recently so here we are

If this gets __ notes, I'll …

5 - clean my room

10 - start drinking enough water

25 - try to limit my screentime to like 2 hours a day

50 - fix my sleep schedule

75 - try my absolute best to not sh anymore (I'm already trying but yk extra motivation)

100 - actually do my homework this school year

125 - study regularly

150 - tell someone about my mental health issues and sh (again just need extra motivation)

175 - clean my room regularly

300 - actively try to stop hating myself

400 - tell one of my friends I'm questioning my gender

600 - run regularly

5000 - tell an adult about my mental health issues and sh

Rules: no spamming ig and also don't reblog like a hundred times

[selvepnea]

It would be so funny for me to go to a rave and come back to a victorian style hotel room after

[wistfulenchantress]

completed.

EDIT: this has now, as of this edit, reached over 2,000 notes. And I have started doing the things. My life is still far from perfect, but I genuinely do scroll through all the replies and reblogs and watch people get other people to help and reassure me and check on me and it makes me feel so much more loved than i normally do. i'm even going to bed earlier because you said i should. i love all of you so much, and i owe you 2,053 times. all my love, witch.

ORIGINAL POST:

ok here goes. i haven't taken enough care of myself recently. so here we go

if this reaches 100 notes i will start doing yoga again, to help with my anxiety COMPLETE (how you guys are insane)

if this reaches 200 notes i'll start studying more and putting in more effort COMPLETE (o my gosh)

if it reaches 500 i will actually try my best to exercise for the right reasons, instead of random bursts of self-hatred/body hatred COMPLETE (i posted this yesterday evening)

if this reaches 700 notes i will try my absolute best to fix my sleep schedule COMPLETE (ok this is insane)

if this reaches 1000 notes i will be more honest with my therapist COMPLETE (dammit you guys ilysm but this is gonna be hard)

if this reaches 2300 notes i will be more honest with myself about why i am turning to tumblr for this kind of thing and write a poem about it. (this one is a joke since i think 5000 is impossible, and i will write a poem for you guys anyway. i love you) (i’ve now changed this to a more reasonable goal - one really close to what i have now - because honestly i want you guys to succeed because the fact that people are still on this post is insane and it makes me smile.) AND COMPLETE! (i love every person who interacted with this post so much it isn’t even funny. all my gratitude and adoration, witch)

this ends at the beginning of may. you can spam i guess i have 35 followers it prob wont even reach 100. but go ahead, tumblr, do your thing. lol

[art-by-jas]

Sleepyhead

John Carter x Reader

Summary: Your and Carter's new relationship has not allowed for much intimacy, but one morning, he decides it is time to make the most of his day off.

TAGS: Established Relationship, Kissing, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Attempts at Dirty Talk, but it just comes out sweet.

WC: 2.7k

A/N: I am on episode 21 of season 1; The obsession with him isn't going away also; the end of episode 20 made me actually cry over how cute his dancing is. My asks are always open if you have any suggestions or prompts you'd like me to see me try.

The morning light gradually seeps through the curtains, bathing the walls in a soothing yellow glow. You pry open an eye to find Carter already awake, gazing up at the ceiling. With a deep stretch, you extend your arms overhead and push your legs off the bed.

John turns to look at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small smile. "Morning, sleepyhead," he teases, his voice still raspy from sleep. 

You grin and rub your eyes, feeling surprisingly well-rested. Turning to face you, he props himself up on one elbow. "How'd you sleep?" he asks, his gaze sweeping over your tousled hair and sleepy features.

"Pretty good," you reply, your voice still thick with drowsiness. "Though I did have some interesting dreams..." You feel heat rise to your cheeks.

A smirk plays at his lips as he raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really? What kind of dreams?" he asks, his tone slightly teasing, clearly guessing he had something to do with them.

Your new relationship with Carter was still in its early stages. Despite the limited time available between your busy schedules, you had only recently begun enjoying the occasional makeout sessions. As his smirk gives way to a pleased smile, he reaches out to tenderly brush a strand of hair from your face.

His fingertips dance across your skin as he murmurs, "Don't be embarrassed. You're always on my mind."

Your pulse quickens at his admission, and you can't conceal the surprise that colors your response, "Really?"

He chuckles and nods, his unwavering gaze fixed on yours. "All the time," he repeats, his fingers tracing featherlight patterns along your face and neck. In a low, gruff voice, he confesses, "You're always on my mind, you know. Even when I'm working or trying to sleep, I can't stop thinking about you."

Your breath catches as his words send a shiver through you. He leans in, his face just inches from yours. "It drives me crazy," he whispers, his dark eyes smoldering with desire. Gently, he brushes his thumb along your lower lip, the touch electrifying your body. "I can't focus, can't concentrate. The only thing I can think about is you..." His gaze locks onto yours, thumb still tracing your lip as he pauses.

With sudden urgency, he closes the gap between you. His lips crash into yours, the kiss desperate and intense. You melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He kisses you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he presses you back against the pillows. Your tongues tangle, the kiss growing more passionate by the moment. A low moan escapes him as his hands roam your body, his hips pressing firmly against yours.

Your breath catches as his lips trail down your throat, coming in short gasps. "I-I think about you all the time too..." you manage to say between moans.

He pulls back slightly, gazing into your eyes. "Yeah?" he asks, his expression a mix of arousal and tenderness. His voice is rough with desire. "What do you think about?"

His velvety voice soothes you, your body yearns for his touch. "Everything," you whisper breathlessly. "Your smile, your laugh, your hands..." You trail off, heat rising to your cheeks as you realize how desperately you crave him.

A smug grin spreads across his lips. "My hands, hmm?" he purrs, flexing his fingers and lightly dragging them down your side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Your body shivers at his touch, hyper-aware of his every movement. You hum softly, eyes fluttering shut as his fingertips brush against your hip. He trails open-mouthed kisses up your jawline, his hands roaming over your body and slipping beneath your shirt to trace lazy patterns on your skin.

Leaning in close, his hot breath caresses your ear. "Can I try something?" he whispers, his voice low and rough.

You shiver at the sound, your body already anticipating his touch. "What...what do you want to try?" you ask, heart racing.

Placing soft kisses along your neck, his lips graze your skin as he mumbles his request. "I want to...go down on you," he breathes. "Is that alright?"

Your cheeks flush at his words, your body already warming with anticipation. "I,uh-I...yeah...yeah, that's fine..." you manage to stutter out, your voice breathy and unsteady.

He grins against your skin, clearly pleased by your response. "Good," he mutters. "I've been thinking about this for a while." Lowering his head, his lips trail down your collarbone and across your chest. Pausing for a moment, he captures your lips in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he savors the moment. Then, he breaks away, his mouth moving lower. As Carter slowly kisses his way down your body, you can't help but feel a twinge of nerves. With gentle movements, he helps to remove your top.

Sensing your unease, Carter soothingly rubs your thigh, his touch calming your nerves. "Relax," he whispers in a soothing tone. "I won't do anything you're uncomfortable with, okay?" You take a deep breath and nod, trying to surrender to the sensations he's igniting within you. 

Carter continues his sensual exploration, his lips and tongue leaving a scorching path down to your hipbone. He teases the edge of your sleep shorts, his hot breath caressing your stomach. Sliding his hand under the fabric, his knuckles brush against your skin.

You shiver at his touch, your body growing more eager. Looking up at you with dark, desire-filled eyes, he pauses. "Is this okay?" he asks.

You nod, offering a faint smile. "Yes," you rasp, your voice tight with anticipation. He smiles and slides his hand into your shorts. His touch is gentle as he cups you through your underwear. You gasp, breath catching, as he begins to stroke - steady, measured movements that set your body ablaze.

His eyes lock onto yours. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, desire thick in his voice.

You'd experienced this kind of pleasure before, but something felt different this time - more intimate, more intense. Perhaps it was his unwavering gaze that drank in your every reaction or his touch that ignited a thousand nerves. Whatever the reason, this was unlike anything you'd felt before.

His fingers slid beneath your shorts, tugging them downward with a gentle insistence. As the fabric slipped away, he let out a small, ragged breath, his hungry eyes fixed on the newly exposed skin of your thighs. The shorts fall to the floor, and his hands roam freely over your bare legs, sending electric currents pulsing through your body. The barely contained lust in his eyes made your heart race and your core ache with need.

He gently parts your legs, his touch tender as he kneels between them, large hands caressing your inner thighs. Leaning down, his lips brush the sensitive skin just above your knee, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses as he moves higher.

As he nears your core, your body trembles, breath coming in short gasps. He worships your skin, tongue swirling over the delicate flesh of your inner thigh, driving you wild with need.

He pauses, lips hovering just above your pussy, gaze on you, silently seeking confirmation. You nod, unable to speak, body desperate for his touch. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes drifting closed as he commits your scent to memory. Mouthing you through your underwear, his tongue traces the outline of your most sensitive areas in slow, tantalizing circles, each one stoking the flames of your arousal. With one hand, he trails feather-light caresses along your hip. He nuzzles his face against you, his nose pressing through the wet fabric. The heat of his breath seeps through the cotton, igniting your body with yearning.

"Oh god," you moan, your voice ragged with need, "That feels so good."

His eyes, darker than you've ever seen, lock onto yours as his lips curl into a small smile. He can tell how much you're relishing his touch, how it's driving you wild.

He pauses, his lips hovering just millimeters from your skin, his gaze fixed intently on yours. With a low, rough whisper, he says, "If you think this feels good, it's about to feel incredible once I get these off of you."  He hooks his fingers under the elastic of your underwear, slowly, tantalizingly, rolling them down your legs and tossing them to the side.

He pauses to drink in the sight of your unclothed body, his eyes tracing every curve as if trying to etch the image into his memory. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, his hands gliding reverently up your thighs. 

Even amidst the haze of passion, you summon a teasing lilt. "I believe you've mentioned that already," you gasp breathlessly.

He chuckles softly. "That doesn't make it any less true," he mumbles, his lips grazing your hip. "You're gorgeous." Without hesitation, he presses his lips to your most pussy, his tongue darting out to savor you. A low moan escapes your lips as your back arches off the bed, his touch both gentle and firm as he explores your folds.

He moans against you, his own arousal evident in his movements - his touch growing more urgent, more insistent. You feel his fingers digging into your skin, his grip leaving faint marks as he worships your body with his tongue. He takes his time, savoring every inch of you, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to build the pleasure until it was nearly unbearable. You feel his gaze upon you, his eyes dark with desire.

You notice his hips moving rhythmically against the bed, almost subconsciously, as if he can't control himself. The realization hits you. You ask, your voice a mix of awe and curiosity, "Are you getting off on eating me out?"

His eyes meet yours, revealing a blend of embarrassment and arousal. Seemingly surprised that you've noticed, the flush on his cheeks betrays his pleasure. He pulls away for a moment, his glistening lips, and nods in acknowledgment. "Y-yeah," he stutters out, his voice rough with desire. "It's, um, really hot.”

A wave of arousal washed over you, an uncontrollable desire growing in the pit of your stomach. You can tell he was enjoying this just as much as you were, his desire fueling his every move.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," you respond with a shaky but genuine smile. He returns a warm smile and resumes his ministrations, his tongue working overtime. His tongue starts to get sloppy, no longer as precise as before, as if he’s struggling to keep himself in check; all his attention is focused on the feeling of you.

He pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, his gaze locking onto yours, "Can I...use my fingers too?" He asks, his voice rough with arousal.

You're unable to speak, your body trembling with need. You simply nod your agreement. He gives you a small smile and runs his fingers through your dampness, positioning himself to use both his fingers and tongue.

He pauses, drawing away as he struggles to form words through the lustful haze. "You have no idea how long I've been thinking about this - tasting you, touching you. I even touch myself at the thought of you. You drive me crazy."

Your shiver at his raw, needy words, your arousal growing stronger. The vivid image he's painting becomes more vivid in your mind.

"Tasting you is even better than I imagined," he whispers, his lips returning to your skin as he resumes his ministrations, his fingers working alongside his tongue.

Your words come out in a breathy gasp, your body trembling under his touch. "I never knew it could feel like this," you manage to stutter, your voice tight with pleasure.

"You like that, huh?" he asks, his tone almost teasing as he looks up at you from between your legs. He punctuates the question with a sharper thrust of his fingers, brushing against that sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a strangled cry, your eyes rolling back as pleasure washes over you, your body arching towards him.

"Oh god, that feels so good. Don't stop," you breathe out.

He chuckles softly, the sound sending pleasant vibrations through you. "Don't worry, I have no intention of stopping anytime soon," he chuckles, his lips brushing your thigh. John resumes his attentions, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony. His movements grow more intense with each passing moment. You can feel the pressure building inside you, coiled tightly like a spring ready to release. You teeter on the edge, your body tense with anticipation.

"I'm... I'm so close," you gasp out between ragged breaths.

"Come for me, baby," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you come all over my face."

The words combined with the mounting pressure, push you over the edge. You cry out, your body arching as waves of pleasure crash over you. "Y-yes, John, O-Oh…. Fucccccck…" you gasp, trembling beneath him.

He works you through your climax, his fingers and tongue gently coaxing you over the edge. His touch grows softer and gentler as the last waves of pleasure subside. With a soft smile, he looks up at you.

He pulls back, his face glistening with your essence. His eyes are hooded, a smug expression on his face as he licks his lips.

"That was...amazing," you gasp, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. He grins and moves up beside you, draping his arm lazily across your stomach.

"You taste incredible," he rasps, his voice thick with desire. Leaning in, he captures your lips in a messy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth to mingle with yours. The familiar flavor on his lips only stokes the heat within you.

He murmurs softly, his voice pleased, "I'm glad you enjoyed it." Leaning in, he presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his eyes on yours. You can see the hunger and smoldering desire in his them, realizing this is far from over.

"I'm not done with you yet," he says, his voice growing huskier as his hands slide up your thighs. You laugh softly, your body still recovering from the intensity. "I think I need a minute or two to catch my breath," you say, jokingly swatting at him.

He chuckles, grinning, clearly amused by your need for a break. "Don't worry, I'm in no rush," he says, his hand idly tracing patterns on your thigh. "I have the whole day off, we have all the time in the world."

At his words, you can feel your body starting to warm up again, the thought of having all day to explore each other making a heat pool in your stomach. For now, you're content to simply lie in his arms, savoring the aftermath of your shared pleasure.

He wraps his arms around you, drawing you closer against his body. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of your still-ragged breathing from your earlier exertion.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, his stubble rubbing against your sensitive skin, and you shiver lightly in his embrace. He chuckles softly, his grip on you tightening. "I could get used to this," he murmurs.

You laugh softly, your heart swelling at his words. "Oh yeah? You could get used to spending all day in bed with me?" he chuckles, his warm breath caressing your neck.

"Is that a challenge?" he teases, his hand tracing lazy patterns across your bare back. "Because I accept."

You shiver at his touch, the heat of his body against yours stirring a new wave of desire within you, your skin still sensitive from your earlier climax. 

"Careful what you wish for," you tease, lightly nipping at the skin of his collarbone.

He let out a guttural groan as your teeth grazed his skin, his hold on you tightening as he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. "I'm always careful," he murmured against your lips, his warm, enticing breath caressing your skin. "And I stand by my decision."

You smiled into the kiss, your hand sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulder. "Well, then I guess we have our plans for the day," you said playfully, pulling away to give him a mischievous smirk.

He returned your smirk with a wolfish grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "That we do," he purred, his hand tracing the curve of your hip. "And I plan on making the most of every single second of it."

MASTERLIST

[navybrat817]

Sergeant Snuggles

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky wants you to get some much needed rest. Word Count: Over 1.6k Warnings: Fluff, swearing, humor, reader is tired, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and the best boyfriend, okay?). A/N: I'm tired. I want Bucky to fix my schedule. Again! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You should’ve taken the afternoon off. You knew that. There was no reason for you to remain in the building beyond your earlier debriefing. The mission you completed was successful, but you hardly slept over the last few days because of it. Describing yourself as tired was an understatement.

But you had a tendency to stretch yourself thin at times and were stubborn, a trait Bucky both loved and fought you on.

The beautiful brunette you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend leaned over in his chair as you stifled a yawn. “That’s the fifth time you’ve done that in the last two minutes,” he whispered low enough to not draw attention.

“Glad you’re keeping count,” you whispered back, feeling his steel eyes linger on you as before he turned his focus back to Steve. At least he didn’t say he told you so after you turned down his suggestion this morning to call in.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, the stubble on his strong jawline catching your attention. He hadn’t shaved in a few days. Hardly slept either. Still looked gorgeous.

How was that fair?

“Just take a break,” he urged, tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear. “It’ll help.”

“No, I’m fine,” you argued, picking up your drink and downing the rest of it, as if it would give you a boost. “We have a busy day. I don’t have time to use one of the pods.”

S.H.I.E.L.D. had recently built a lounge area for agents to rest and recoup during the day and between missions. Some of the pods were large enough for two people to rest comfortably together. Why not cuddle with your soldier for a short time? As nice as it sounded, you had to get through a few more hours of work.

“I love you, but you’re about two seconds away from putting your head on the table,” Bucky whispered, your heart skipping a beat. It did that whenever he professed his love for you. But you were also feeling a bit grouchy, even though he was only trying to help

“And I love you, but I’m about two seconds away from flipping this table,” you hissed before Steve cleared his throat. “Sorry,” you added sheepishly. It wasn’t his fault the mission cost you precious sleep.

The blonde’s brow furrowed. Like Bucky, he knew you pushed yourself too hard some days. You had to though. You weren't a super soldier like they were. “It’s okay,” he said before he continued.

Exhaustion veiled your normally bright and attentive gaze. The Captain had a commanding presence, yet your eyelids drooped as he kept talking. You weren’t sure if you were able to fall asleep sitting up and you didn’t want to find out. With a shake of your head, you had to try and fight the waves of drowsiness that crashed in your mind and washed over your body.

It was a losing battle. You used to laugh at memes that talked about meetings that could’ve been done in an email, but it didn’t seem so humorous now that you were living it. Why didn't you just stay home?

You jolted when your boyfriend suddenly placed his hand on your thigh and you wished you could say you blamed it on his touch. “What? What happened?” You asked. Did you fall asleep or just zone out?

“The meeting’s over,” he replied, nodding to the now empty room. You hadn’t seen anyone walk out. That wasn’t good.

“Shit.” You rubbed your temple, an ache building in your head. You’d have to apologize to Steve later because there was no way you retained anything he stated. “What time is it?”

Bucky checked his watch with a slight frown. “It’s 10:55.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that.

“Yeah.” Bucky’s lip twitched in a smile when you realized you said that out loud. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that.”

You huffed, your head cloudy again before you slumped in your chair. There was no way you’d make it through the day, as much as you wanted to try. You were useless in this condition. “Okay. I may need a nap,” you admitted.

He smiled softly as he pushed his chair back and held out his hand. “I had a feeling. That’s why I booked us one of the pods before we got here,” he said. It shouldn't have come as a surprise. He knew you better than you knew yourself. “Let's go.”

You pouted, but took his outstretched hand. “Are you sure I can't just try and suck it up?” You asked, covering your mouth with your other hand when you yawned yet again. “There’s still work to do.”

“And you're not going to finish it right this second,” he stated firmly, the drop in his voice making your throat go dry. He meant business when he used that tone. “You're going to let everyone else handle it, and they can handle it, and you are going to get some rest.”

You loved this man for putting up with and caring for you. “Yes, Sergeant, but I still don't want a nap,” you grumbled, wondering just how whiny you sounded.

He chuckled, the sound making you giggle. It was infectious. “Just twenty minutes. It’s all I'm asking for to start. You worked hard and deserve a nap,” he said, sneaking a soft kiss in when you pouted again. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me? Please?”

Something vulnerable flashed in his eyes before he blinked it away. Nightmares still plagued him and you discovered that he rested easier with you beside him. Your presence didn’t always chase the horrors away, but it helped. Maybe he needed this nap just as much as you did.

What kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

“Okay, Bucko. For you,” you smiled, leaning into his side as he guided you down the hall. You’d do anything for him. “You know, my caffeine let me down,” you added.

“I know, baby.”

“It’s a betrayal. It was supposed to stimulate me,” you mumbled.

“I know, baby,” he said again, going along with your tired rambling. “But we both know I stimulate better than that ever could.”

“Yeah, you do,” you smiled. He was very good at that. “And this is a good excuse for us to cuddle.”

“As long as you get some sleep, you can have all the cuddles you want,” he promised.

A tired smile touched your lips. “I should call you Sergeant Snuggles.”

It was at that moment that Sam walked by, the smirk on his face telling you that he at least caught the nickname you just came up with. Your gaze flickered to Bucky’s profile, catching the clench in his jaw as he stared at his colleague and friend. It was a sexy look, but now wasn’t the time to think about that. And Sam, the good man he was, didn't say a word. He nodded and went on his way.

Which likely meant he pocketed the nickname to bring up at a later time.

“Sorry,” you whispered, hoping you hadn’t embarrassed him.

Fondness took over Bucky's blue eyes when he swung his gaze back toward you. “Don't be sorry. You can call me whatever you want,” he assured you, taking you into the longue.

The low light created a peaceful atmosphere and you found yourself longing for relaxation as Bucky brought you to the pod furthest in the corner. He helped you in before he climbed in beside you, his massive frame making you feel safe and warm as he held you against him. His fingers moved along your back in a slow and soothing pattern and your breathing began to match his after a minute. It made it easy for your eyes to slip shut.

You still couldn’t believe that you had someone in your life like Bucky. The man did everything in his power to put your needs first and make sure he took care of you. Not because he didn’t think you were strong or capable enough to do so yourself, but because he recognized that you didn’t have to do everything alone. That was why he was your partner.

In work, in love, and in life.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you sighed, wishing you were awake enough to say how much you appreciated him. “Sorry for whining and bitching and being stubborn.”

“You don’t need to thank me and you didn’t whine or bitch. I’ll give you stubborn though,” he said, casually tossing a leg over you before you could move away. If you asked it of him, he’d lay on top of you like a blanket. “Just get some sleep and don’t push yourself today, please. I’ll feel a lot better if you relax.”

You’d feel a lot better, too. “One more question and I will.”

He hummed as he waited for you to speak.

“What's the policy on sex in the pods?” You asked, resting a hand on his chest and feeling his heart start to race. “For future us, for the record. I love you, but we’re not trying somnophilia here today.”

He exhaled a laugh against your forehead before he kissed it, warmth spreading like a balm through your head. “I love you, too,” he whispered. Dragging his lips down to yours. “And I’m sure we can find a way to make it work, but not until you rest, okay? Need you at one hundred percent for that.”

“Yes, Sergeant Snuggles,” you replied, feeling him hold you a little tighter before you finally got some much needed sleep.

I hope this reads well. 🤣 I'm le tired. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[for-a-longlongtime]

As You Are - Marcus Moreno x Joel Miller

Rating: Explicit 🔞🏳‍🌈 Warnings: softdom!Joel, subby!Marcus, oral/deep throating, anal sex, dirty talk, “sir” (part of the scene, not main dynamic), sex toys (plug, handcuffs), unexpected interruption, Joel Miller has a apadravya (cock piercing) and isn’t shy about it. Word count: 8.7K

A/N: For those of you who recognize the pairing from a previous fic; this stand-alone one shot greatly expands on it and is just about Marcus and Joel (so the last part in Joel's POV will look familiar to you). Thank you to @sin-djarin @qveerthe0ry @lotusbxtch @mountainsandmayhem for always helping me make it to the finish line and understanding my guys so so well <3

read on AO3 | main masterlist

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“Mr. Moreno, can we have a moment of–...”

“How serious is the threat this time?”

“Sir, as the leader of the Heroics, what do-...”

“Marcus, why wasn’t this prevented?”

“When do you think–...”

Marcus shakes his head as he makes his way out of the press room, trying to tune out the herd of journalists calling out to him. He knows it’s all part of their job, but even after all these years there is something particularly vulture-like about how they never accept an end to a press conference. 

“Taylor, how long until you’re expecting more information?”, he asks the tall press officer walking ahead of him. They’re always so smartly dressed to the point that Marcus wonders why they aren’t the ones in front of the camera all the time. Taylor has never made a wrong impression or said a wrong word, moving around with a confidence that’s beyond admirable, and a disarming smile that works with anyone. 

“We’re not sure. For now the next press meeting is scheduled for 20:00 hours,” Taylor says, scrolling through their phone as they head for Marcus’ office, somehow still finding time to greet people along the way. “Until then, I’m gonna need you to-...”

“No, please.” The words slip from Marcus’ lips before he realizes it, that sickening feeling in his stomach worsening at the thought of spending more hours in meetings. It’s been a couple of gruelling weeks dealing with the recent conflicts around Austin, but these past two days have been particularly hard. “I can’t anymore. It’s been over a day and a half since I was last home. I know things are critical, but there’s nothing that I-…”

“Sir… I know it’s not ideal.” Taylor closes the door behind them, locking the outside noise out of Marcus’ office, then takes a seat while flipping through a stack of papers. “I know you’re tired. But it would really be helpful if we can do some more things on the Atzer deal. If you want to nap on your couch first, I’m happy to give you an hour.”

He knows it would be useful. Knows that the few higher ups are adamant about the deal he’s been negotiating for the safety of the city. But frankly, there is no reason why he would be better suited for the upcoming gathering than anyone else would be. Not to mention he’s running on much less sleep than anyone else at the office. 

Just when he’s about to give in to Taylor’s request, his phone beeps, pulling away his attention for a moment. *Joel*. He swipes immediately, not aware anymore of what Taylor is saying, and the bad feeling in his gut calms down immediately when he sees the picture. It’s the front of Joel’s house, the one Marcus has known for over twenty years now. Joel is on a ladder, fixing up some final detailing on the door frame. A second ding indicates the follow up text, and he can’t help but smile as he reads it. 

Joel: remember when we first did this? had to show you how to use a damn drill, pretty boy MM: Yeah, well, you deliberately let me mess around with it first on that ladder just so you could check out my ass. Joel: legs. plus those shorts left fuck all to the imagination. hey- you sleep yet?

“Sir?”

He looks up at Taylor, who gives him a slightly forced smile in return this time. “Sorry, sorry. I need to answer this,” Marcus says as he gestures at his phone. “How about you take five?” He doesn’t listen too much to the answer as he turns his attention back to his phone, quickly typing a response.

MM: A few hours on my couch. I’m okay. Joel: didn’t make it home yet? damnit. you’re gonna collapse, powers or not. go home MM: I can’t. There’s another press conference at 8. Joel: it’s not even noon. nicole would tell you the same. go home

He sighs deeply, knowing Joel is right. But after so many years of obligations coming first, it’s hard to change his ways. People are counting on him, always - work, his daughter, his wife Nicole. Joel too, in a way. Except he has known Marcus for longer than anyone else, and always navigated Marcus’ workload with a straightforward and direct attitude, knowing it was best to let him be. However, when things become too much, he’d pull him back unapologetically and with a firm hand. Not asking, just telling him. Something Marcus wouldn’t be able to accept from anyone else but Joel. But today… it’s just not good timing. Another nap on the couch will have to do.

Joel: [image.jpg]

A quiet whine escapes Marcus’ lips as he stares at the photo. God, it was absolutely obscene - and it made his mouth water. The shot was clearly taken in Joel’s truck, camera held high. No face showing, just a snapshot of his lap.

Jeans undone, boxers showing, shirt pushed up just a few inches so the treasure trail leading the way down was clearly visible. Joel’s big, strong hand cupping his balls through his boxers, the hard outline of his cock pushing upward to his left. Only the head peeked out of the fabric, showing the slightest bit of foreskin. 

Marcus’ heart races as he zooms in on the image, and he bites his lip when he spots what he’s been looking for. The gleam of that delicate metal bar, pierced through Joel’s glans from top to bottom, with a round stud on each end. It has been a good fifteen years since Joel got his apadravya piercing, but still it never fails to affect Marcus. It’s not just about seeing it – it’s how he’s immediately immersed in the memory of it resting on his tongue, the cool metal such a contrast with how warm Joel’s body is. Not to mention how strongly Marcus’ powers react to it. On top of that, there’s the thick smear of pre-cum over the fat head of Joel’s dick, along with further evidence casually glistening on his thumb, only adding to how much Marcus wants Joel’s cock in his mouth.

Joel: go home. nap. tommy will do the afternoon stuff- see u soon. better be rested

For a moment Marcus hesitates, glancing at the door while he contemplates whether anyone would actually physically try to stop him from going home. Then his phone beeps again, and he grins as he gets up from his desk chair, grabbing his jacket. “So damn bossy,” he mutters to himself with a smile as he locks the phone, seeing a quick flash of Joel’s latest text before the screen goes dark.

Joel: that wasn’t a question, moreno

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Forty some minutes later, Marcus finds himself half asleep in Joel’s bed; freshly showered, dressed in briefs and Joel’s green flannel that was laying around. Joel moving into the house with Marcus and Nicole had initially been for convenience’s sake, due to renovations at his own house. None of them had initially expected it would end up being a turning point, but when things evolved - it felt right. Familiar, comfortable with a twist, certain things new in certain ways. Getting to come home to both of them is what kept Marcus going through the long hours he made at the HQ. 

When Nicole told Marcus that their daughter would be coming home for summer break, he had been thrilled about the prospect. But despite his numerous attempts to spend quality time with her, he found her even more reluctant than she had been in previous years. His increased visibility as the Heroics leader didn’t help much either, something she had come to detest during her teenage years. He frequently found himself wishing that she had been able to spend more time with his mother Anita before she passed. She had been a trainer for the Heroics as long as Marcus could remember, a solid team together with his father’s powers and leadership, something that he knew would be passed on to him. A blessing, they would tell him when he was still a child.

Marcus had never looked at it that way. His powers as a Heroic were less of a family trait and more of a generational burden that had controlled both his parents’ and grandparents’ lives. There had been no other choice for him but to make peace with it, which he had done many years ago. It still posed a challenge for him all the time, particularly in setting boundaries with the HQ in order to keep putting his family first. But as it was, Marcus didn’t see any other way of dealing with it - even though his kid clearly had a difference of opinion where there was ‘no other choice’ resignation. Something she made clear all the time.

It isn’t until the lamps and electronic devices around him start to flicker on and off, a low buzzing sound in the back of his head, that he realizes he is too worked up - and it is affecting his powers unintentionally. “Stop overthinking.” He can hear Joel’s voice in the back of his mind, calm but resolute as always.  

So he tries. Focuses on how Joel’s scent lingers on the bed sheets, and the green plaid shirt he’s wearing, and tries to have it ground him. He still has time before Joel will be back home, so he might as well close his eyes and get some rest. Here, surrounded by the smell of Joel’s soap and cologne, it is easy to imagine the weight of him pressing against his back, an arm wrapped around him in quiet comfort. And apparently, thinking of that is all it takes for his exhausted brain and body to slip into some much needed sleep.

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“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

“Hey…” Marcus groans softly as he feels Joel’s breath warm against the back of his neck. Finally hearing that deep, slightly raspy voice behind him was by far the best part of the past 36 hours. It’s a struggle to make himself wake up, but he tries, attempting to roll over so he can look at Joel. But Joel simply wraps an arm around his waist, pressing his broad chest all the way against Marcus’ back. A solid wall of warmth and the faint smell of wood envelops him, mixed with Joel’s cologne, and for a moment he’s tempted to fall right back to sleep again.

“ ‘s okay. Take your time to wake up.” Joel’s stubble brushes against his neck as he kisses him, fingers running over the green plaid Marcus is wearing. “That my shirt?”, he asks, his voice rumbling low in his chest. It’s a no-brainer - nobody else in the house has plaid shirts like he does, but still Marcus likes him asking about it. Likes him noticing it on him.

“Yeah. Smells of you, I like it. Makes it easier to fall asleep.” He’s still drowsy, words he didn’t really intend to say out loud spilling too easily from his lips, but he doesn’t feel like holding them back. Especially not when he rolls over and sees the beginning of a smile tugging at Joel’s lips. It’s clear how tired he is, the smell of lumber and paint from the long day still lingering on him. But to Marcus, it’s Joel who is a sight for sore eyes, especially today. 

“You’re becoming a sap in your old age.” Joel grins when Marcus tries to smack him, catching his hand as he clearly anticipated that. With a soft groan and creaking knees he moves on top of Marcus, one thick thigh on each side to cage him in, and he easily brings Marcus’ wrists up above his head, holding them there with one hand.

“Who are you calling old? I’m one year–...”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel mocks him, leaning down to claim his mouth again, and Marcus feels the heat travel through his body as Joel gently grinds against him. “Still older,” he continues, eyes freely roaming over Marcus’ body as he watches Marcus’ chest heave. When his eyes catch the way that the green button up has slid up on Marcus’ stomach, he clearly gets distracted by the view of bare skin, lips parting as he takes in the sight. 

“Forty-four isn’t old,” Marcus tries half-heartedly, but the way Joel is looking at him makes it feel rather useless to try and win an argument about this. 

“God damn near ancient.” Joel sighs, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m basically sucking old man’s dick here.”

Marcus glares at him - but with Joel’s weight resting on him, and now the thought of Joel’s mouth on his dick, he’s pretty sure even a pointed look isn’t very convincing right now. “I don’t see you sucking anything right now, Miller.”

This time there’s a full on smirk playing over Joel’s face as he shifts on Marcus’ lap, holding his wrists still together while leaning down to kiss him. Right before their lips meet, he changes directions, and Marcus nearly whines in frustration, until Joel’s mouth ends up on his neck. “Got that right. I’m not the one who needs his pretty little head fucked empty,” Joel whispers at him, and Marcus’ breathing hitches as his hips buck up. Fuck. 

“Joel…”

“Oh, I know you want it so badly.” Joel hushes him as he grinds back harder, his dick clearly hard in his jeans as he rubs it against Marcus’ briefs. He’s sparse with his words in general, but that makes his filthy mouth all the better during moments like this. “Yeah. I really do.” After one more hard kiss, Joel reluctantly gets up from the bed and begins to unbuckle his belt. “Been a long day. How about I go shower—...”

“Hell no.” Marcus is up almost immediately, grabbing for Joel’s jeans as he tugs him closer, eager to undo the zipper. “It’s fine, I want you like this, let me-...”

“That so?” Joel’s sharp voice stops him in his tracks, demanding attention, and Marcus’ mouth goes dry when Joel grips his chin with his thumb and index finger. The expression on his face has shifted, stubbled jaw more tense now, his eyes as serious as the tone in his voice - it wasn’t a question, but an order. 

“Did I say you can undress me?”

He shakes his head slowly, cock throbbing by the authoritative turn in Joel. “No. I’m sorry,” he breathes as he lets go of him. His first instinct is to go to his knees, but he knows how this goes - the whole point is for him to not have to think or worry or make decisions. Joel is in charge and decides what happens; he just has to be good and follow that. So when Joel’s free hand grabs him tightly by his hair, Marcus stays in place, seated on the edge of the bed with his eyes still locked on Joel’s face. Waiting for further instructions.

“Sorry what?” 

“Sir.” The word trips off Marcus’ tongue quickly, and Joel’s eyes darken with desire at that word in a way that always makes something burn bright inside of Marcus’ chest. Whenever this happens, this ‘thing’ between them, it never is just one-sided. Joel gets as much out of this as he does, too, even when it's Marcus who needs him the most during moments like this, when life has been unraveling him. “I’m sorry, Sir.” 

“Not sure you actually are.” Joel’s eyes drop down to look at Marcus’ mouth, and he then lets go of him, taking two steps away from the bed. “On your knees. Now,” he continues, snapping his fingers when Marcus doesn’t move fast enough.

“Yes, sir.” He’s on the floor almost immediately, his knees bumping against Joel’s boots, and it takes effort to keep his eyes on Joel’s face instead of the bulge in his underwear. He’s rewarded for it with Joel’s hand approvingly brushing through his hair, nails scraping just a little bit over his scalp, and Marcus bites his lip to not moan at the feeling of it.

Sometimes Joel tells him what to do - or rather what’s about to happen. Step by step, as simply hearing him talk about it is already enough to get Marcus desperate. Other times it’s quicker, more instinctual and quiet, but just as good. Today, Marcus’ restraint is particularly low - he’s worn out from the endless meetings and responsibilities at work, the never ending chatter. Trying to dissociate just to push through, and it makes his fingers twitchy, the anxiety crawling under his skin even though he knows how to hide it from most people. But Joel sees it nevertheless, can tell so by the slightest signs - knows how Marcus needs him. Even when it’s hard to ask.

“I’ve got you.” Joel’s voice is soft and warm, making shivers run down Marcus’ spine. “Any requests?”

Marcus takes a deep breath, searching for what he wants to ask for, and Joel’s fingers rubbing soft circles on his scalp become a little stronger. Urging him to let it out - it’s something they’ve been working on. “Cuffs,” he says eventually as he closes his eyes, and Joel hums softly as he cradles the back of Marcus’ head, letting him press his forehead against his belly. The smell of wood somehow lingers the strongest here on Joel’s work clothes, and Marcus breathes it in deeply, fixating on it, as he rubs his nose against the shirt covering Joel’s stomach, eager for skin on skin contact. He’s so wrapped up in it that even when Joel moves away, the scent still remains, as does the memory of his belly. 

Only once he feels Joel kneeling down behind him, he realizes that he’s moved. Large warm hands brushing over his shoulders to his arms, gently tugging Marcus’ hands behind his back. The metal of the handcuffs touching his skin makes all the little hairs on his body stand up straight, like a low current of electricity flickering under his skin. He feels the sensation increase when Joel puts the cuffs around his wrists and snaps them closed, and he takes another deep breath, rolling his head over his shoulders as he tries to relax into the feeling. 

It’s hard to describe how the metal that he can manipulate with his powers also has the opposite effect on him. How it pushes him into a state of surrender when used like this, a low level of anxiety that somehow becomes freeing when placed into Joel’s hands. His cock throbs in anticipation, and when Joel pushes his chin up gently, Marcus opens his eyes again to look at him. He is woozy at the sight of Joel towering over him, and the moment he feels Joel’s thumb brush over his lower lip, he opens his mouth - tongue out without even being told to.

“Good boy, Marcus.”

His breathing grows heavier right away at the praise, and moments later he is rewarded by the sight of Joel pushing his underwear down, half hard cock in hand now. He bites his lip as he watches Joel give himself a few strokes, his heartbeat thundering when he sees the foreskin slide back to expose the fat tip, both of them knowing that’s exactly what he’s eager to see. 

The two metal studs from the apadravya piercing gleam softly, practically calling his name, and Marcus shivers as he feels his body responding to it - especially now he’s wearing the metal cuffs. “I could see it in the picture you sent,” he says hoarsely, then licks his dry lips for a moment. “Made me so fucking hard in front of Taylor.”

“Figured.” A pleased smile plays over Joel’s face and he spits in his hand, using it to give himself a few strokes while keeping his eyes on Marcus’ mouth. “Just the tip, y’hear me?”, he warns and Marcus nods eagerly, his tongue back out again to welcome Joel’s erection. 

The nerve endings in his body spark hard when the cool metal touches his tongue, and the pleasant dizziness in his head only increases as he suckles on the thick head. He loves taking his time like this, that Joel lets him spend as much time on it as he needs. It’s harder to keep his balance when cuffed, but he enjoys the challenge, as well as the strain he can already feel in his shoulders and arms. 

A low groan calls his attention, and when he glances up, he sees Joel’s eyes are heavy lidded, staring back at him in need. Marcus can’t help but smile at him, his tongue slowly running over the piercing, and he hears a quiet curse when he sucks on the metal studs. First the one under his dickhead, then the one on top of it - always in that order - before tongueing the slit of his cock, where Joel is already leaking a considerable amount of pre-cum.

“You’re so good at that.” Joel’s voice is like a hum that Marcus feels through his entire body, with the slightest hitches of breathing that clearly indicate his excitement. He brushes his fingers through Marcus’ hair, his hips moving lazily - barely even, but just enough to chase the friction of Marcus’ lips and tongue. “Saving the entire world constantly, but then you also suck dick like this.” 

“Joel…” This time it’s Marcus who groans, resting his head against Joel’s belly for a moment as he tries to compose himself, then chases after the tip of his dick again with his mouth. 

“Nuh-uh.” Joel smacks his cheek unexpectedly, stopping him in his tracks, and the sudden sensation of the slap makes Marcus leak into his briefs. He sucks in a deep breath, fighting the urge to rub his dick against Joel’s leg for some friction and get some relief for himself. Instead he lifts his eyes back up to Joel, lips still pressed against his dick, to see him staring right back with a frown. “What did you call me, Moreno?” 

“Sir,” he gasps against Joel’s cock, realizing his mistake as he’d gotten too carried away. “Fuck – I’m so sorry, sir.” He doesn’t wait to see if the verbal apology is enough, but instead pops the head of Joel’s cock back into his mouth again to show him just how sorry he is. The groan he gets in return drowns out the last bits of noise in his head, flooding his senses, and all he wants to do is to just take in Joel’s cock completely. But Joel holds him back, denies him, teases him until Marcus feels like he’s about to break, his throat thick and heart heavy with want.

“Please”, he moans eventually, his body tight with tension as he lets the head of Joel’s dick fall out of his mouth. 

“So say it,” Joel demands, tugging at his hair so he has no choice but to stare up at him. “If you want it, you-...”

“Fuck my mouth,” Marcus breathes, not even caring about how much his voice is shaking. “Please fuck my mouth, sir.”

So Joel does.  

One hand in Marcus’ hair, the other under his chin to hold him in place, and as he keeps his eyes locked on Marcus’, he calmly slides his thick cock into the wet heat that Marcus offers. Going so deep without missing a beat that for a moment Marcus isn’t sure whether he can take it all without warming up, mouth and heart full of Joel just as he wants it. But there’s no need to wonder, because Joel knows - gives him exactly what he needs, uses him the way they both want it, reassuring Marcus in every way that he’s got him.The caresses, murmured praise, the salty taste of pre-cum leaking on Marcus’ tongue as his breathing keeps getting heavier. 

Joel pushes him just a little further every time he slides back into Marcus’ mouth, hips steady and hands confidently holding him at just the right angle, until Marcus can feel his cock in his throat, has to work hard on relaxing more so his gag reflex doesn’t kick in - because he wants this. No thoughts, just the coarse tickle of Joel’s pubes against his nose. Just Joel filling him up so much that he can barely breathe, anything but graceful as he’s drooling around his length. 

The rush of being pushed to his limits, of feeling Joel’s stomach pressed against his forehead once he has taken all of his cock, the “Good boy, Marcus - fuck, FUCK” in Joel’s strained desperate voice as he keeps himself inside - keeps Marcus in place with a hand firmly on the back of his head.

He groans around Joel’s thickness, eyes rolling nearly back into his head when he feels the piercing’s zing once again. It’s always good, but this time - inside of his throat - it vibrates through him in a way that makes his head spin. It’s overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, but it’s all he can think of right now. Even though he hears Joel hush him and calm him down, even tries to withdraw from Marcus’ mouth, he feels frenzied now and needs more. More as he starts to bop his head on his own accord now, creating more friction for Joel as well as his own benefit, as he’s unwilling to let go - despite Joel's repeated attempt to pull out of him. 

Instead he doubles down in his determination, despite the fact that it’s making him gag, with tears coming to his eyes as he pushes himself further and harder. Because all he can think right now is how good the rush feels, how alive and unfettered his body and mind are in this moment, filled up with Joel. So much that he’s barely even aware of the bedside lamp that has started to flicker its light erratically, and the low buzzing of other electronics in the room. 

“Marcus,” Joel’s hoarse voice is barely a whimper, but his hand grabbing Marcus’ hair tightly is a lot more adamant and forceful, trying to pull him off his cock. “Calm down. Hey, you gotta let go-...”

He shakes his head, barely able to keep breathing because of how filled up he is, and oh- that was a mistake. His throat contracts almost violently, and before he knows it he’s half choking on Joel’s dick, his face a blur of tears and spit. This time Joel literally drags him off his cock, pulling it completely out of his mouth as he snaps their safe word at Marcus.

It’s hard to even hear it through his coughing fit. Marcus’ throat feels just as raw as his dick is hard, both almost painfully throbbing as he tries to catch his breath - pressing his forehead against Joel’s hip as he sucks air into his lungs. His brain initially doesn’t register how Joel is leaning over him, hands quick to undo the cuffs, but once he gets it, he starts to protest despite his foggy brain. 

“Sir, no...”, he pants, turning his head so it’s now his cheek that’s pressed against the warmth of Joel’s pelvis. He licks his lips when he realizes just how close this puts him to Joel’s cock again, and without even thinking twice he leans in, mouthing the heavy ball sack in front of him, just wanting Joel inside of him somehow. 

“Fuck. No, c’mon,” Joel’s gasp is barely concealed as he removes both cuffs, then gently urges Marcus’ mouth off his balls. It’s taking Marcus effort to not whine at it, his head cloudy from the rush that got snatched away too soon from him, but he follows Joel’s lead nevertheless, legs cramping as he gets back up to his feet with Joel’s support.

“Not ‘sir’ anymore, just me,” Joel warns him before he can say anything, and then there’s just Joel’s mouth on his, hot and hungry and impatient and comforting. His hands are fast as he strips Marcus from his shirt and underwear before discarding his own clothes, and then finally - FINALLY - Marcus gets what he wants, what he’s been craving. All of Joel, naked and warm and on top of him, their cocks rubbing together, and he’s never been more glad about having prepped earlier in the shower.

“Need you inside right now.” His voice is hoarse and gruff from the deep throating, but he pushes the words out anyway, unable to wait any longer. He’s not even sure which one of them grabs the lube from the nightstand. All that registers is the look of arousal on Joel’s face when his index finger slides inside so easily, just like the second one, and Marcus almost whines when he feels Joel’s fingers curl inside of him.

“Fucked yourself open in the shower for me?” Joel’s voice is just one long needy growl, and moments later the head of his dick presses against Marcus’ asshole, slick with lube. “Ohhh, FUCK,” he breathes, and Marcus moans, digging his fingers into Joel’s back as if he’s literally trying to pull him inside. “Yes, yes - take it, all of me, just like that…”

“Don’t have to go slow.” Marcus buries his face against Joel’s shoulder, then hisses in pleasure at Joel sinking fully inside of him, all in one smooth go. “God - yes, please, please.” He’s always come up short with a way to describe the sensations he feels from the apadravya piercing, even after more than fifteen years, and this time is no exception. It would feel good for anyone, but with the way his body and powers respond to metal - having that hit his sweet zone becomes unlike anything else he’s ever felt. 

Everything seems foggy, but in that really good kind of way that lets him surrender himself, lost in the feel and smell and taste of Joel. He’s drunk on him and still wants more, more pliable than he usually is, as every thrust feels both too intense yet not quite enough. 

“So tight for me always,” Joel’s breathing hitches, his voice almost like a coo for a moment, and Marcus groans when Joel thrusts a little harder into him, straightening up so he has a better angle. “I know, baby, I know, you feel so goddamn good. I’ll give you more, don’t worry,” he reassures him, groaning in frustration when his position doesn’t quite allow him to go as deep as he wants to. “Hang in there. Gonna move you,” he promises, and Marcus whines when he feels him pull out. But Joel is quick and strong, and moments later he has Marcus laying right at the bottom corner of the bed.

He grabs Marcus’ leg and brings it up to rest over his left shoulder, improving the angle and grip on him, and Marcus watches breathlessly as Joel strokes his dick. Foreskin sliding up and down, once again that teasing flash of metal, and then he guides his cock back to Marcus’ ass. “Here we go. Y’got it, always taking me so well”, Joel reassures him with a soft chuckle, and then it’s just all white hot heat for Marcus as Joel fills him up even more than before - going even deeper at this new angle. 

“Open your mouth, take these fingers for me,” Joel groans and Marcus obliges promptly, wrapping his lips around Joel’s thick fingers the same way he did earlier with his cock. 

“Please…” he gasps, full of want and desperation, and fuck - Joel towering over him in this position makes him seem even broader than usual, and even more in charge, turning the rest of Marcus’ brain into mush. He sucks harder on Joel’s fingers, stroking himself as his cock throbs hard, especially seeing how much it affects Joel to be inside of him in more than just one way. It makes Joel even more feral, thrusting faster into him, and Marcus can tell it’s not gonna be much longer before he’s gonna come on Joel’s cock.

“I know, I know. You wanna be so full of me always,” Joel hushes him, and Marcus moans in response. “Every single way, huh? Taking whatever I give you.” He pulls his fingers out of Marcus’ mouth and leans down to capture his lips in a deep kiss, growling softly as he claims him with his tongue. Marcus’ cock jumps hard as Joel’s fingers wipe the leaked pre-cum off his sticky stomach, using it for lubrication as he pushes Marcus’ hand aside and takes over jerking him off. 

“Good boy,” Joel gasps as their kiss ends, thrusting hard into Marcus. “Ooh, you’re such a good fucking boy, Marcus.” 

Marcus’ breathing stutters at the praise, his hips jerking up against Joel as he buries his face against his sweaty hair. Heat is flashing through his body, even more intense thanks to the metal stud of Joel’s piercing hitting his prostate, and he can hardly breathe as his climax is so close to hitting, making him oblivious to everything else around them.

“What the FUCK?” 

The voice is so shrill that Marcus doesn’t even recognize it - he just startles, suddenly jerked away from the release that was about to overtake him. But before he can look at who is suddenly standing in the room, Joel swears under his breath - his arms protectively cradling him closer, turning Marcus’ head away from the sudden intruder.

“What the… DAD??” 

“Shit!” The shock slams heavily into Marcus’s body as panic takes over, his fucked out brain only now realizing who walked in on Joel and him. It’s his daughter. 

His fingers claw into Joel’s shoulders to stop him from moving, not realizing Joel had already stopped doing that, and he’s scrambling to gather his wits so he could give any explanation for what she just walked into. “Honey, this isn’t what—...”

“HE HAS HIS DICK UP YOUR ASS!! What is not—” He hears her gasp as she abruptly interrupts herself to stop speaking - clearly realizing this was not the moment to start an argument. There should be something he could say, Marcus thinks to himself, trying to shake himself out of the mental paralysis that seems to have overtaken him, but there’s nothing he can think of. Judging by how Joel keeps him covered and prevents him from looking at his kid, he seems to be of exactly that same thought.

“I thought… But you… Fucking assholes. You’re screwing each other?”, she continues in disbelief, followed by the noise of her knocking into furniture. “You’re screwing each other?? Mom!!” With a loud yell she leaves the room, followed by her footsteps rushing down the stairs.

It’s like her departure suddenly brings air back into the room, because at last Marcus can breathe in deeply, oxygen finally rushing into his lungs. So does Joel, who sighs deeply as he finally lets Marcus turn his head so they can look at each other. 

“You’re okay?”, Joel asks him softly, but all Marcus can do initially is shake his head.

No. He’s not okay, not in the slightest bit.

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Joel’s POV

The panic in Marcus’ eyes is abundantly clear, his eyes growing even bigger when his daughter storms out of the bedroom, yelling for her mom. “Shit. Shit, Joel, we - I’ve gotta–”

Joel shakes his head immediately, his hand firm against Marcus’ chest as he stops him from getting up. “Yeah, no,” he says calmly, letting Marcus’ leg slide off his left shoulder. “You don’t gotta do nothing. And we ain’t done here.” 

The lights in the bedroom are flickering erratically, some spiking in brightness that shouldn’t be possible for regular bulbs in household lamps. Others are blinking and buzzing in a jittery way that sounds suspiciously like Marcus’ elevated heartbeat under Joel’s warm hand.

Once again Joel shakes his head. “Marcus. Look at me. Breathe.” He gently urges Marcus down on his back again, brushing his fingers through Marcus’ hair as he brings their foreheads together. 

“You’re fine.” A soft whisper, knowing it requires more attention to listen to than his usual speaking voice would. That’s exactly what Marcus needs in moments like this; something to focus on that pulls him out of his head, gets him out of the anxiety. “Hey. You hear me? Repeat it.”

Marcus shakes his head, too dumbstruck by what just happened. Joel tries to stop himself from sighing, nudging his nose softly against Marcus - and cursing the interruption. Not just for the obvious reasons, but also because Marcus is right back at where he was earlier that day; high strung and anxious, as if all of Joel’s efforts to clear his mind had been for nothing. 

“Repeat. It.”

“I’m… fine. I’m fine.” Marcus doesn’t sound too convincing as he takes another deep breath, his head tilting upward as he brushes his lips over Joel’s. “Promise I’m fine,” he then manages, and as if on cue the lights around them stop flickering; some of them turning off, while others stay as they were earlier.

Joel nods, hums in relief as he lets his tongue lick softly at Marcus’ lower lip. “Good. She’s an adult - she’ll be fine too. Cranky, but that ain’t nothing new,” he muses, and Marcus’ laugh bubbles up quick and suddenly as he wraps his arms around Joel, heaving a sigh of relief. 

“But what if she…”

“No.” Joel moves up with a frown, gently shrugging Marcus’ arms off, then also pulls his cock out of him, ignoring the gasp of disappointment that gets him in return. “Thought I told you that you’re fine. We clear or not?”, he asks as he gets up and reaches for the water on his nightstand, taking a few gulps of it as he admires Marcus laying spread out on the bed.

It’s not often enough Joel gets to see him like this, just - laying down. Not doing something. The work at the Heroics HQ had been keeping Marcus away from home more than usual, which neither Joel nor Nicole were too pleased with. But it had been a very long time since anyone had been able to convince Marcus that he needed a break, no matter the tempting suggestions they’d presented to him.

“You’re so bossy.” But Marcus smiles as he watches Joel rummage through his nightstand, pulling out a few things he drops next to one of the pillows before he gets back on the bed.

“You like that about me,” Joel reminds him, leaning down to press a kiss against Marcus’ belly who groans happily in return.

“I do. That - and that big cock of yours. Good selling points.” Marcus fingers some of the gray streaks that have started creeping into Joel’s hair lately, wrapping a lock or two around his index finger. “Maybe a few other things that I like, too.”

Joel grins. “Good. Can’t live on cock alone - we’re not twenty anymore.” He rubs his hand over Marcus’ belly, watching the shivers run down to his neatly trimmed pubes. The dark hair is still sticky from all that precum Marcus had leaked earlier, even though he is no longer erect right now due to the unexpected interruption. 

For a moment Joel’s mind drifts to Marcus’ daughter barging in on them. He felt bad for her, even though she had no business being in his room in the first place. At age 22, she hardly was a child anymore, but that didn’t make it any less unfortunate that she walked in on this - or that Nicole now had to explain the situation to her. But there was nothing that Joel could do about that, except let it go for the time being. Because right now, Marcus needed him - was craving the mind clearing bliss that would allow him to go back to work again later.

“Hey. Where’d you go, Miller?” Marcus’ voice and the gentle tug on his hair brings him back into the moment. Joel shakes his head as he runs his hands over Marcus’ narrow waist, giving his cheeks a quick squeeze.

“Didn’t go anywhere, I’m right here.” He kisses Marcus’ belly button, mapping his skin with his lips and tongue as he moves lower, running his fingers through Marcus’ sticky, matted down pubic hair. “Look at you being a mess. Just how I like you.”

Marcus whimpers when Joel brushes his nose against his cock, giving him a few small licks before he runs his tongue all over the sticky head. “God, Joel. You can’t just say shit like that.”

“ ‘Course I can. Know what that does to you.” He knows they don’t have long until Marcus is  leaving again, but he’ll take what he can get for now. Teasing Marcus with his tongue and lips, toying with his foreskin - the gasps that escape from Marcus when Joel pushes his tongue inside of it simply never fail. So Joel ignores the clock on the wall, taking his time to let his mouth pay homage to every bit of Marcus’ cock and balls, feeling how most of the tension has left his body by now. His moves are slow and hazy, lips parted in pleasure the entire time as he watches Joel go down on him. But by the time he’s almost fully erect, his hips are pushing up needily, wanting so much more than he is getting right now. “Joel. Want you back inside of me.”

Joel grabs the lube he’d put next to the pillow, squeezing a considerable amount on his hand which he then uses to fists his cock, slicking himself up anew. Marcus likes it wet, messy and intense - and Joel was never shy about using plenty of lube, wanting to make sure Marcus could take him the way and for as long as he wanted to. 

He slips the three metal rings on his right hand when Marcus’ eyes are closed for a moment. They’re thick, even around his fingers, and Joel flexes them as he gets used to the initial heating of the metal to match his body temperature.

“You want it hard, baby?” Joel runs his fingers over the head of his dick, thumbing the two metal metal studs from his apadravya piercing. He still remembers the first time they fucked after it had healed. Marcus wouldn’t let him out of his bed for a full day, eager to discover all the new ways that Joel felt and tasted and responded to him. That little zing that still happens whenever Marcus cups Joel’s dick, even if he’s fully clothed. By now, Joel was more than adept at making Marcus fall apart for him so beautifully, especially with the apadravya stimulating his prostate. 

But the rings… They were still a fairly new addition, another experiment by Joel. He was no scientist when it came to electromagnetic waves, but he knew what worked for Marcus. And every time Joel fucked him while also using his ringed hand to jerk him off, the eventual release would simply knock Marcus out. Even Joel could feel the pieces of metal respond to each other, which would almost violently shove him towards a release that made his brain short circuit. 

“Yes.” Marcus’ eyes are black with need as he watches Joel, breathing heavily as he reaches out to run his hands over Joel’s soft belly. “I really… Really need it hard. Please, Joel.”

“Not gonna slow down.” He can’t help but wrap his fingers around Marcus’ wrist, bringing his hand up so he can press a kiss to his palm, nuzzling his stubble against the soft skin. “Unless you decide to safe word.”

“I know. We’re good.” Marcus’ free hand slides lower on Joel’s belly, down until he reaches Joel’s cock, the fat head leaking against Marcus’ taint. He covers it with his hand, and Joel holds his glance as he sees Marcus focus on him - his breathing easing down, eyes becoming more clear, and then Joel feels the tingling around his piercing and Marcus’ fingers. 

“Fuuuck,” he growls in a low voice, slowly - oh so slowly - rubbing his cock against Marcus’ taint, enjoying how sensitive both of them already are. Marcus’ breathing hitches, and Joel can feel him shiver as he just lets go - lets his mind go blank, stay in the moment, willing and accepting anything that Joel wanted to do to him and with him. No Heroics, no being in charge, no city of Austin.

Joel takes his time to sink into Marcus, inch by inch, knowing that if he goes too fast they’re both going to blow in no time. Once he’s fully inside he holds still for a moment, his cock throbbing from the sensation of being enveloped by Marcus.

“Fuck, you always feel so good.” The words escape from Joel’s lips before he can even think about them. When he puts his ringed hand on Marcus’ stomach, the response is instantaneous. Electricity rolls through Marcus’ body as a thunderstorm, making him jerk up, and Joel can’t control himself anymore when he sees Marcus’ pupils dilate, as he’s gasping both in pleasure and need.

“Take it. Take me, pretty boy, that’s it - that’s it, yes,” he pants as he picks up his pace. Their mouths crash together, desperate kisses from both of them as Joel fucks him, needing very little time to get both of them riding as high as they were right before they got interrupted. When Joel wraps his ringed fingers around Marcus’ cock, he feels the charge jump through their bodies - whatever that exactly means -, setting off sparks around them as light bulbs and devices start to buzz again. This time it’s no stress response, but Marcus coming apart under him, having let down all of his defenses to surrender to Joel. 

And Joel fucking loves it. It’s his absolute favorite thing in the world, taking Marcus apart and watch him get fucked up. Eyes wide and so dark as he gets all cock drunk, greedily rocking his hips along with Joel’s moves. Fingers trying to hold on to him, and digging into Joel’s shoulders, arms, and the sounds he makes as Joel jerks him off make Joel wish that he could just record them, keep them with him at all times. 

When Joel takes a particular hard thrust into Marcus, he swears that for a moment he hears Marcus’ voice on the inside of his brain. “Harder,” a plea that’s not coming from Marcus’ lips, but from somewhere deep within his chest. “Hold me down.” And that - THAT is Joel’s cue. Because Marcus may be a Heroic, a leader for their city and justice, but this… this was the man himself surrendering, this was no longer a superhero, but simply desire as sharp as nails digging into Joel’s skin. 

Joel reaches up with one hand and gathers Marcus’ wrists above his head like earlier, seeing and feeling him tremble as he nods breathlessly. “Make it quiet,” Marcus gasps, and Joel takes over his mouth again with a deep kiss until all of Marcus’ words have disappeared.

“No more thinking. Want you to come on my cock.” 

Marcus cries as he nods, arms trying to shove Joel’s away, but Joel knows how he works. Knows that he’s about a minute away from losing it. “You heard me,” he runs his tongue over Marcus’ neck, then sucks a hickey into the sensitive skin. “Y’wanted me to fuck the noise out of your head?” Joel’s hand tightens as he keeps holding Marcus’ wrists pressed down hard against the bed, feeling the shock waves that are running through him start to increase. 

The moment Joel’s ringed fingers close around Marcus’ throbbing and leaking cock, he can feel that Marcus is pretty much done for. He feels him buck up against him, hands trying to break free, but Joel shakes his head as he only holds him down more.

“I’d threaten to tie you up, but you’re not even gonna last that long, baby,” Joel coos at him, and Marcus fucking whines at him, begs him even louder this time. His cock twitches hard as Joel jerks him off roughly, electricity bouncing between their bodies in a way that makes it impossible to tell where it starts and where it ends. 

“Where d’you want it?”, Joel pants against his ear, his tight grip still holding Marcus pinned to the bed. “Tell me. Use that filthy mouth of yours. Want me to come on your face?” Marcus twitches under them, wordless, so Joel takes it a little further. “On your chest? Down your throat?”

“You know… where.” Marcus’ voice stutters, and this time there are sparks flying around Joel’s fingers, around his rings. “Ple–...”

“Use your goddamn words, Marcus,” Joel growls as he shifts his hips and drives himself home, right against Marcus’ prostate, until Marcus’ body convulses and his teeth bite hard into Joel’s shoulder.

“Inside,” Marcus sobs, and Joel feels him spurt his hot seed onto both of their bellies. “Fuck, Joel, come inside, want you to fill me up.”

“That’s right. Take it like a good boy, all of me,” Joel gasps, and then everything goes bright-hot-white in his head as his body gives out from holding on so long. He buries his face against Marcus’ neck as he shakes, fucking the last bit of his come deep into him before he collapses, completely spent.

It takes him a while to recover, only coming back to his senses by the feeling of Marcus’ lips on his face - soft kisses and sweet whispers as he cradles Joel’s head against him. Joel whimpers, then shakes his head weakly when he feels Marcus start to move - knows he’s about to get up and grab the nearest thing for clean up. “Mmmm, no, no. Not yet,” he mumbles as he puts pressure again on Marcus’ wrists to hold him pinned to the bed, stopping him in his tracks. “Gimme a sec.”

He feels Marcus’ cock twitch hard, despite being completely spent, followed by a deep sigh from Marcus. “If you do that again, I’m just gonna stay and not go back to work,” he mumbles against Joel, who can’t stop himself from smiling. Perfect.

“Got a better idea.” He smacks the side of Marcus’ ass, tilting his hips up to him so he can pull out of him with ease, going much slower than he usually does. “Stay like this for a second,” he orders Marcus, resisting the urge to spread his cheeks and watch his warm cum drip out of him. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

He sweeps his fingers through Marcus’ come on his belly and spreads it over the head of the compact metal butt plug he’d taken out of the nightstand earlier. No - it’s gonna have to stay in him for a while with that press conference coming up. So he takes a quick dollop of lube and slicks up the toy some more, then spreads Marcus’ legs a little wider for him.

“How about you keep that f’me, huh? Until you get back home later.” 

Marcus gasps as Joel pushes the metal plug inside of him, hips bucking up as his ass eagerly takes the offering. “No, Joel, God… I have to do a press conference,” he croaks, looking at Joel in disbelief as the static crackles between those rings, Joel’s piercing and the plug that’s now snugly inside of him. “You can’t–...”

“ ‘Course I can. Just did it. ” Joel smiles slowly, tiredly at him, as he leans down for one more kiss. “You’ll have a little something to remind you of me.” He strokes his fingers one more time over Marcus’ ass, making sure there’s no discomfort - he knows Marcus can take it, because it hasn’t been the first time Joel sent him back to work like this. Though never before when he was scheduled to talk to press.

“Bastard,” Marcus mutters, but he can’t hide the smile on his face as he gazes at Joel. “Were you always such a fucking menace?”

“Yeap. That, being bossy, and having a big ol’ cock is what kept you hooked on me all those years.” Joel grins as he moves to sit up, groaning when his back protests slightly. “Consider it an incentive to come home right after you’re done.”

“What’s the reward if I do?”

A slow grin spreads over Joel’s face as he raises an eyebrow at Marcus. 

“If you’re good, I’ll let your wife eat my come out of you when you come home to us.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Updating this with some tags for folks who might be interested and may not yet have seen this (didn't get to do it when I posted it in the middle of the night):

@wannab-urs @baronessvonglitter @gruaig-rua @thebeldroramscal @reallyrallyauthor

@jessthebaker @bitchesuntitled @avastrasposts @almostempty @rebel-held

@din-cognito @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @lady-bess @musings-of-a-rose @cosmic-kid-in-motion

@alltheglitterandtheroar @pedroacrossthestreet @maladptivedaydreaming @h0wardp0tts @comics-nerd-number-3001

@woodensunflower @kt86 @iolaussharpe-24 @bumblepony @love93sstuff

@symphonyoftheoverdosed @katw474 @skdjdjjnak @thesassyteacher91 @vichons

@chujo-hime @ghostofaboy @elvenmother @crowandmousewritingco @nonbinairyboi

@spdetore @stellaiuna @your-voice-is-mellifluous @penvisions @mellymbee

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @sheepdogchick3 @auteurdelabre @survivingandenduring @ryjmhcore

@untamedheart81 @electriclasso @goodvibesonly421 @wave0fg00dvibes @tinytinymenace

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main masterlist | follow @longlongtime-updates for fic updates

[bitchface24-7]

And I am back once again with my regularly schedules JayVik x reader request!

For context this time, I tend to have a pretty stable sleep schedule but whenever I’m on vacation it kinda goes to shit. This will lead to me staying up til 2am and waking up at noon for days on end which is super annoying. So In order to fix this, I will pull an all-nighter in an attempt to “reset” my sleep schedule (which actually does work but I also super wouldn’t recommend it)

I had to do this again recently and while I’ve gotten used to it, it’s still annoying to deal with. I know for a fact that both Jayce and Viktor have ass sleep schedules and, while Jayce’s may have gotten slightly better after becoming a council member (out of necessity mayhaps), I am still willing to bet money that they both pull regular all nighters

With all that being said, I think it would be nice to pull an all nighter while hanging out in the lab, spending the time trying to keep each other up with too much coffee and dumb conversations. On the flip side, I also think it might be funny if Jayce/Vik tried to convince Reader to just sleep and have reader call them out on their shit

(Also mayhaps some cuddling? Would probably make me fall asleep instantly but also I need to be squished between them (non-sexual style))

Thank you in advanced, hope you’re taking care of yourself :))

ALL NIGHTER - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: all of you have the worst sleep schedules ever. Point blank period. So when you decide to pull an all-nighter with them, you remember how much it sucks; but it does help you fix your sleep schedule in a jiffy. If only the two men didn’t constantly try to get you to sleep. If you’re sleeping; so are they.

warnings: nothing. It’s fluffy like cotton candy. Goofing off, banter, negotiation, cuddling

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I too have to reset my sleep schedule sometimes and I know how ass it makes me feel. But I just can’t help it, I don’t want my day to end (especially if I have things to do the next day) so I just… stay up 😭

Your sleep schedule has been fucked ever since you got time off from your job and took that god-forsaken nap. You took it at five p.m. and woke up at one in the morning. You then stayed up until five pm again and fell asleep.

Rinse and repeat.

Now you're going to use your tried and true method in desperate situations, you’re gonna pull an all nighter.

And who better to do it with than your two boys?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You walk into the lab, your feet dragging across the floor a bit. It’s almost four p.m. and you can feel the fatigue coursing through your body.

You want to sleep, but you can't.

Viktor and Jayce are experimenting as you come up to their stations. Jayce shoots you a big grin and Viktor just nods lightly in your direction. You walk further into the lab and plop onto your designated rollie chair.

"You okay?" Jayce asks, his big puppy dog eyes looking at you. You tiredly smile at him, "I'm just tired, trying to pull an all-nighter to fix my sleep schedule."

You hear a small hum at your statement, "Understandable. I do the same thing when needed." Viktor adds as he continues to work. Jayce looks worried at you two, "I get my sleep schedule also isn't the best, but I have maybe done an all-nighter once or twice. How often have y'all done this?"

Viktor stops working and contemplates Jayce's question, you look up to the ceiling and try to add up the amount of times you did this, "Anywhere from six to ten times? I really only have to do it after I get time off, I get so excited having nothing to do that I stay up way too late and wake up way too late."

Jayce huffs at you and looks to Viktor, "And you?" Viktor purses his lips and looks to the side, "Too often."

"Viktor!"

"What? Leave me alone."

You giggle at them, "You can't say anything Jayce. You've pulled all-nighters too. I've seen you stay too late at the lab and bring home paperwork from the council home."

Jayce sputters as the two of you giggle at him. His fond look gives away him fake irritation.

"You should sleep, love. Honestly pulling all-nighters is bad for your health."

"And you're a hypocrite Viktor. Pass me the coffee pot, I'm staying up for as long as I can."

Viktor sighs and complies to your demand. It's true, he is a bit hypocritical.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The delirium has set in. Everything is making you three giggle, how Jayce's hammer sounds as he works on a prototype, how Viktor's accent swirls his words due to his exhaustion, looking at each other for too long.

The lab is full of snorts, cackling laughter, and wheezing.

You look at the clock and see it's almost three in the morning, "Ok, I'd say it's bedtime now. We'll probably wake up at around nine or ten in the morning and we'll be able to go to sleep properly later today."

Both Viktor and Jayce whine, wanting to stay up longer. You shut the shit down.

"Nope! Nuh-uh, bed time for all of us, c'mon."

They listen to you, complaining the whole time, but the minute you all lay in the lab's futon, they almost pass out insatntly.

You're smack dab in the middle. You're essentially laying on top of Jayce and Viktor is on top of you. You hear Jayce's heartbeat as you card your finger's through Viktor's hair.

You sigh in content, this is gonna be the best sleep of your life, you can feel it.

It's great being a teddy bear.

Having a delirious laughing attack would be great with them. Like when you’re laughing with a friend in class and you just can’t stop 😭😭 I miss that so much bro

[lonely1sthemuse]

my guide to wonyoungism, improve your life, glow up, be THAT girl:

🎀 have a routine: this is something I learned from being on therapy for so long. It is really important to have a routine because if not you can have bad sleeping, be tired all day, get bored easier, you won't be able to finish your responsabilities, it can bring you bad self esteem and in general is a complete mess.

🎀 work out: always do what's best for you and do what you feel comfortable doing but please! work! out! I'm such a lazy person and at some point it was really hard for me to have motivation to do anything, but once I put my mind into it, and force myself a bit and started with 10 mins of pilates everyday (since it was something easy to start with) my life and my self esteem improved a lot. Working out is another way to have schedules and a routine, also improves your self esteem by making you feel capable of doing stuff, and ofc is good for your body.

🎀 have a good skincare routine: first, do some research about your skin type and see what products can work better for you (you can also go to have a skincare treatment and ask the beautician or search on internet) but always do what's more comfortable and affordable for you, don't use stuff that influencers recommend bc you can alter you skin type based on the products you use too (as a beutician I know) Also don't DON'T do it everyday, some products can be used everyday like the cleanser but others not. As I said just do a good research. Besides skin stuff it's really interesting!!

🎀 improve your diet: with diet I don't mean to specifically have a diet, actually I'm a bit against them, since being strict about what we eat can cause stress and guiltiness, it's really important to have a balance, eating healthy at the end of the day means nothing if you don't enjoy it. And you can enjoy it by having fun creating new healthy recipes, doing a journal about your fav healthy recipes, buying new cookware (pink plates, pots, pans, etc) or eating a hamburguer, a chocolate cookie sometime

🎀 journal: this is something I do since 2014 lol it's without doubt one of the best things the human has created. It has helped me to improve my writing skills, to get to know me better, to vent about stuff idk how or whom to talk about, also make it fun! In my journal I vent and write about my feelings,fears, dreams, goals, etc but also write down my travels, concerts or fav kpop artists, decorate with stickers, a piece of confetti, even dried flowers!

🎀 hobbies: this is something I also learned recently on therapy, I mean we all had hobbies from time to time but do we know about the importance of having them? I spent this whole year doing nothing since I can't work or study, and without hobbies I can tell you life is too boring, and it can lead you to bad self esteem too I mean, I kinda got crazier for spending so much time alone with literally nothing to do. So find new and fun stuff to do just for the pleasure of doing it, you don't have to be the best at it. I bet you can find hobbies ideas on YouTube as well.

🎀 be more femenine: this is ofc an optional step but I think it can be important, since always either wonyoung or it girls usually look very femenine. Don't forget to make it a fun thing to do! Finding your aesthetic, maybe trying a new one, enjoy going shopping..you can be femenine with your clothing, with your skin care routine, with your jewlery...this is just about feeling beautiful and also powerful.

🎀 improve your behaviour towards other people: with this I mean basically being more open. To meet new people, to make new plans...also fixing your body gesture (at least mine is shit and It always end up hurting my back and shoulders)

🎀 affirmations: good affirmations are a thing, this I learned in therapy too. The way you talk to yourself is important and changing the mindset too. If you tell yourself "I won't be able" then for sure you won't. This is not an easy thing tho I know, but is a necessary thing. Forcing yourself to change your mind every time a negative thought pass by is a hardwork but is well payd, cause the price is your happiness. For this is VERY important to have some help and work things up in therapy. But to give you a little tip, surround yourself with good energy, put some pictures of good affirmations in your room, as background of your phone, even on a shirt!

🎀 enjoy and trust the process: as I kept saying in each step, making it something fun to do it would help you to don't feel it like an obligation cause it's not. It's ofc a responsability to improve your life so you don't fall in depressed behaviours for example, but by making it something fun, then you won't feel guilty if someday you don't feel like functioning and need a lazy day in bed. And by trusting the process, we keep motivated to keep going.

🌼hope this works for you, please let me know if so, have a great day and a great life! 🌼

[atinyniki]

they wait.

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!lee minho x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationships, breakup and makeup, minho has bad eating habits after, minho and y/n both suffer a lot through heartbreak, neglecting, love confessions, petnames.

authors note: idk why but im in such an angsty mood... hope you like this :P this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1424

“minho…”

“no! this isn’t fair. you knew what you were getting into when we started dating, you can’t complain about these things!”

“of course i can! i don’t know how im meant to be a proper girlfriend when i don’t even see you most of the time!”, you retort with a huff.

“listen… im trying. i really am, but i just can’t right now. it’s not easy for me to take a break right now, and it wouldn’t be worth it in the long run.”

“im not worth it?”

“y/n, that’s not what im sayi—“

“i want to break up.”

sure the decision was impulsive, but you’ve been thinking about it for a while now. this isn’t fair to you, not at all. 

“what?”

“i want to break up”, you repeat.

“o-okay…”

“just ‘okay’? do you really not fucking care? i’ve been here for months, just trying to get you to take a fucking break, not just for me, but for yourself. and all i get is an ‘okay’?”

“well… what do you want me to say? you were the one that suggested it…”, his voice gets quieter as the words go on. you don’t want to feel bad, but you do.

but you can’t let anything get in the way of your pride, not now. “fuck you, lee minho.”

you grab your things and leave, sprinting to your apartment as fast as you can. you pray he’s not following behind, you don’t think he’d waste his time doing that anyways.

and then the words ring out in your head. you aren’t worth it.

but you are, you convince yourself. you are worth it, and he isn’t. he isn’t worth your time or your thoughts, so you just shake it off. there’s no need to think about him anymore.

it’s over. he doesn’t need you. you don’t need him.

it’ll be fine now, right?

minho hasn’t been to the dorms since the breakup, not even once. he hasn’t been answering calls or opening his door, no one even knows of his presence anymore.

the boys have called you multiple times, and you’ve had to explain everything to them. they sounded mad over the phone, but they were truly worried about minho. is something wrong with him?

minho hasn’t been able to get out of bed as much lately. after showering and eating, he just hops right back in. there’s pillows occupying your side of the bed, something to keep the empty space warm for you.

but you’re not coming back. and he knows it.

that’s why he’s been sat in his bed for the past two days, scrolling through his past messages with you. he ignores the ones from the past two months, scrolling all the way to the start of your relationship.

how did he get here? how did he ruin something so perfect?

you used to text eachother so much, yet the only recent messages have been ‘i miss you’s or ‘are you busy’s

he has a message typed out, it’s been like that since you left after the argument. he hasn’t found the courage to send it yet, only contemplating for twenty minutes to delete it again.

all of a sudden, soonie hops onto his bed, nuzzling into his leg. “hi baby…”, he coos.

he scratches behind his ears, and soonie leans into his touch. it reminds minho of the times he’d run his fingers through your hair, smiling at you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

but it’s all gone now.

and it’s all his fault.

all of a sudden, soonie crawls onto minhos lap, purring and nuzzling into his stomach. he steps over the phone, and it buzzes, but minhos too focused on soonies movements to notice.

he shuts his phone off, putting it away and calling it a night. he turns it back on to check the time.

3:57 am.

he really has to fix his sleeping schedules, but it’s just hard to sleep without you now.

he lays down, still petting soonie lightly. “i’ve got myself into some deep shit… haven’t i soonie?”

he thinks he might be going insane, talking to his cat like he’s a therapist.

“i wish i could’ve told her i loved her sooner.”

“i miss her lots, soonie. do you ever miss me when im away?”

“im so sorry soonie…”

the buzz of his phone finally breaks him out of his thoughts, and he leans over to grab it. it’s almost five am now, who would be texting him so early?

and then he checks the name.

his heart plummets to his stomach once he sees that it’s you, he doesn’t know how to feel. he finally reads it over.

my bunny <3: why should that matter to me?

that’s when he realizes the text doesn’t make any sense. he unlocks his phone, did he send the message?

and then he sees it. soonie must have sent it when he stepped over the phone, and it has minho spiraling.

minho: i’m still here.

he thinks of what he could probably say to explain himself, and that’s when he realizes.

he doesn’t have to anymore.

he can’t let his pride get in the way of his heart, so instead of explaining, he types out an apology.

minho: i’m still here for you if you’d like to talk. i’m so sorry for not acknowledging the issue sooner. i really wish i had, and i regret not apologizing. i regret just letting you break up with me. i should have begged you to stay, you’re too amazing to lose. minho: but then i realized that maybe it would be selfish of me to ask you to stay. especially after all i’ve done to you. i’m so sorry, y/n. maybe it’s still selfish, but im not sure if i want to let go. my heart still wants you, and i miss you a lot, but i know this is what i deserve. minho: just let me know if you want to talk, okay? i’m right here.

he realizes how much he’s sent, instantly regretting it. the messages came straight from his heart, he didn’t give them a second thought before sending them.

the typing bubble shows up, only to disappear, and now he truly thinks he’s fucked up.

soonie curls back up into his lap, staring at the screen with him. his phone buzzes again, and he reads the next message.

my bunny <3: minho, i don’t know about this… my bunny <3: i might need some time to think, im not sure if im ready to jump back into something like this yet. minho: then i’ll wait. my bunny <3: what? why? minho: because that’s what people do when they’re in love. minho: they wait. my bunny <3: you love me? minho: i’ve loved you since the day i saw you playing with the cats for the first time. my bunny <3: but that was only a week after i met you? minho: exactly. my bunny <3: im coming over. i’ll be there in five.

he wants to get up and get ready, but he cant. he can’t get up, his body feels like it’s going to give out on him. he tries to stop crying, just so that you don’t see him like this, but the tears won’t stop flowing.

you unlock the door with the key he gave you.

“minho?”

no answer.

you turn to his room, opening the door. the sight of him like this breaks your heart.

his eyes are red, he’s slimmed down a lot and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

“minho…”

“i’m sorry.”

“what? minho—“

“i’ll do anything to have you back. please… i’m sorry”

he clutches the sheets tighter, tears spilling from his eyes at a steady pace.

“i’m not mad at you, you know that right?”

“you should be mad. i was so terrible to you…”

“but you’re going to change that now, aren’t you?”

“does this mean you’re going to give me another chance?”

you smile at him, walking over to grab his hand. he clutches it tight, afraid that this may be one of the last moments he can do this. 

“we can try again… see where things go. but if you do something like this again, it’s over.”

he finally smiles after so long, pulling you onto the bed and holding you in his arms. 

“please don’t do that again, min… you scared me.”

“i won’t, i promise. i love you, bunny.”

“i love you too, minho.”

<3

[isattt]

Part 1 - Warning: Suicide mention.

Tags: Haunted house, anypov (?), yandere level: low. Theme: romance, spooky? (Not that much) Words: 1500 (~7 minutes)

next >>

You stared at your phone, looking incredulously at the screen. The apartment was dirt cheap and thirty minutes from the university you attended. This really can’t be real... there had to be a catch, you knew that meant for sure there was something wrong with it, but as you eyed the price again, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let this opportunity pass, not after looking for so long.

When you first visited, the place appeared abandoned, with cobwebs and covered in a thin layer of dust. The landlord, a formal-looking man, reassured you that all appliances, despite the old appearance, were working perfectly.

“And well, if you need anything fixed, I will do it for you in a heartbeat, alright?” The man says, with a wide charming smile on his face, “Don’t be shy to come to me.” He says, patting away the dust from the top of the microwave.

You eyed the place, your eyes landing back to his. “If you don’t mind me asking... Why is it so cheap?” You ask, noticing the dust covered hoops with half made embroideries of delicate flowers, maybe someone old who passed away...? you think to yourself.

“Heh...” He says, with a humorlessly chuckle to himself, his smile quickly faltering “Well... a guy… he… you know...” He says with a slight tremble to his voice, rubbing his arm nervously “Sorry... It’s hard even thinking about it... I wish I could have done more...”

Your eyes widened slightly, quickly acknowledging what he was trying to say. You looked at him with a sympathetic gaze, taking his words in “Oh, I’m so sorry I… I didn’t realize.“  

“It’s alright, pal.” He says reassuringly, putting on a braver front. “I’m actually more worried about you now, you know? You alright with that?” He walks closer, carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. “Things like these make folks uncomfortable. I myself wouldn’t be able to do it.“

You stare at him, before looking away “Well... it’s pretty disturbing, obviously...-”, you say with a sigh “-but I really need it so...”

“I get you, I do,” He nods. “Hopefully, I can make you feel at home. Call my number if you need something, anything, alright? I really am not kidding,” He furrowed his brows, looking at the piles of hoops with a pensive look “So-” He suddenly clasps his hands together putting on a weaker smile than before “-when you move in it will be all cleaned up, I got you”

You mirrored his small smile with one of your own. “Thanks, Will.”

It’s been one week since you have moved in and you have settled in nicely. William did a good job cleaning everything. When you came back, it was almost like you stepped into a completely different place. Even the air of the place was new and lighter, even if still slightly cold.

Ever since then, nothing unusual has happened. You spend your days the same as any other day, just now in a smaller home than before.

Well, almost nothing unusual. The house was always chilly, making weird noises from time to time, and you often had nightmares about a tall man just standing at the foot of your bed, watching you sleep. But you would not let your paranoia drive you away from the best apartment you’ve found after almost a month of searching. Ghosts, demons, and such didn’t exist, after all. When the semester starts, it will be all worth it, you repeat to yourself, trying to find some solace in this situation.

Once you got home that evening after going out to buy your groceries, you noticed an odd recent addition to your wall, just by the entrance, a CO2 meter. Did William install it while you were gone? It was odd though, you never thought he would be the type of landlord to just enter your place uninvited. It was unlike him to invade your privacy.

You decide to take out your phone. Looking at the contacts, you send a quick message to him, trying to understand his intentions. Could it be something that was scheduled that I didn’t know about?  You thought to yourself as you typed your message, “Hey will, what’s up with the CO2 meter?” You hit send, putting your phone aside for a moment on the counter to unload your groceries.

“CO2 meter?” the screen lights up with his reply. You quickly pick your phone back up to reply, “The one you installed?” you furrow your brows, staring at his text with a confused look. Did he forget?  You keep staring at your screen, anxiously waiting for a reply... 

“I didn’t install a CO2 meter.”

“Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over??”

You suddenly feel the familiar cold from the apartment enveloping your body, making you shiver slightly. What could this even mean for you? Would someone really break inside your place only to put something like this and nothing else...? You for sure needed to take that thing down at least It might be a hidden camera or something.

“I don’t know, to be honest.” You reply to him.

“I looked at the cameras in the hallway for you, but I found nothing, pal.” He said, fixing his glasses on his nose with one hand.

William was sitting at your table, sipping on the cup of tea you had given him. He arrived not much later after your text, coming immediately to check on you. “It’s too damn bad I can’t be more helpful here. Even the cameras on the outside found nothing unusual.” He says, taking another sip of his tea.

You were leaning against the wall, staring at him while holding your own cup of tea, the warmth of the liquid providing you a sliver of comfort in this situation. “It’s okay... this is already better news than I expected,” you say as you shift your weight onto your other leg. “Maybe it was always there and, ugh, I don’t know, maybe I didn’t notice it before.” 

“Well... hah...” He brought the cup to his lips, hesitating before taking a drink of the hot liquid. “I noticed something though...” He continues, “It’s nothing horrible, I mean… It’s just... well, you can see for yourself” He lowered his cup to the table, bringing his phone out of his pocket.

You sit down in the chair by his side, dragging the chair closer to him. When your shoulders touch, William flinches slightly, but keeps the phone in place. You look between his eyes and the screen with a curious look.

The screen of his phone showed you the camera feed of your hallway. The timestamp showed it was around noon, a few hours before you found the CO2 meter on your wall. It was empty, no one coming or going. 

“Around here,” William said, forwarding the video. Nothing changed, still the same empty hallway. Before you could ask him what he had seen, the feed showed your door opening. No one came out, of course. You weren’t at home.

Then… the door closed by itself, the same way it had opened.

“What...” you muttered, staring at the screen with wide eyes. “But I locked the door...”

“I imagined you did.” He looks at you, an uncertain look on his face. “What do you think of setting cameras inside here? I could lend you one of mine.”

“Maybe...” you say, still shaken by what you had seen. You feel the chilly atmosphere of the house again, creeping up your spine. “I wasn’t so much worried about the meter anymore, but this is something else.”

He leans back against his chair, creating some distance between you two as he puts his phone away. “Look, I’m not trying to imply anything, but these sorts of things have been happening all the time. Folks come here, these things happen... they leave.”

He grabs the cup once again, running his finger over the rim of the cup. “I am not one to believe in ghosts, but…”

“If these things exist, at least the fella who is haunting you is the least dangerous ghost you could have, hm?” He says with a small smile, a wistful look on his face.

You raise an eyebrow at his statement, while he could be right, it’s hard to believe, given your circumstances “Well, he is still creeping me out, even if that’s the case...” You say harshly, suddenly feeling the cold air of the room leaving.

He nods understandingly “Mhm, I can understand,” he pauses, emptying his cup of now lukewarm tea and standing up to put the cup on the sink “I don’t know why, but it’s been a lot more active with you than with everyone else... when you sat close to me just now, I felt like someone was staring daggers at me! Hahaha!”

He finishes washing his own cup, walking to stand in front of you. “If you see him, tell him I miss his nerdy ass!” he says, grinning widely. “Let’s just install those cameras so you can sleep easy at night, alright?”

[gingervitus]

Davrin Week Day Five: Woodworking

Oh hello friends.

The end of this week was... not my favorite end to the week, and then I ended up taking a three hour nap today. SO HERE I AM A LITTLE LATE BUT THAT'S OK.

thank you as always to @datvcompanionweeks for hosting these super wonderful events.

Here's some more modern AU.

The Sun (3,728 words)

It has been a quarter after six o’clock for the past two hours.

Silvia picks absently at her nails. The monitor of the computer she’s slumped in front of glows back at her in the dark room. A blank schedule has been haunting her for the past week. Arguably, several blank schedules have been nipping at her heels. Gnawing at her insides. Picking apart her brain when she tries to go to sleep at night. Her fingers drag through her hair, balls of her hands pressing up against her closed eyes. 

Things are easier when she can just count through different routine variations to fall asleep instead of wondering what is going to happen over the coming months.

Life, though, does not seem to hand her any problems that have easy fixes. She’s been holed up so long that her business partner (and future sister-in-law however the fuck that happened) came to check on her before her last class for the evening started. “Are you still having those boy problems, Via?” Hearing this situation referred to in such a way makes her cringe even a half hour later. “Did you break up with your firefighter?” The support is always appreciated. She should really be grateful for such love around her. “Do you want to?”

She does not. 

Mostly, she wants to duck out of work early, drive over to Davrin’s place, and fight with him. Scream until her lungs give out and then fall asleep in his arms. She wants to tell him he’s a stubborn shithead that needs to figure this whole thing out. To let him know that if she’s going to be his emergency contact, he has to accept the help that emergency contact wants to give after said emergency. She wants to hold his stupid squared jaw and tell him she’s not good at any of this, but she’s trying.

Would it be easier to just let this short term relationship fizzle out until it’s just a bittersweet memory lost among the stars? Yes, absolutely. Then she thinks about how he kissed her that very first night when she had been terrified to be seen in the light of day. How gently he held her while the morning light broke into the night sky. How her heart hammered in her chest as he told her the night didn’t have to end and then proceeded to make them pancakes. So perhaps, it wouldn’t be easier after all to simply bury her head in the sand like she has time and time again with previous flings.

“No,” she whispers, much as she did earlier to the question still ruminating in her mind. “I don’t.”

That is the unfortunate complication when a fling quickly starts feeling like something that can last forever if both parties would allow for it. Suddenly, the possibility of floating off on the breeze to whatever comes next vanishes, and she’s stuck miserable, stubborn, and alone in her apartment every night wanting to swallow her own pride to smooth things over. However, she also is impulsive and makes decisions that could throw wrenches in such a thing at any given moment.

Her heart aches. Whether it’s due to this incessant need to be near him again or the uncertainty as to what is going to come next, she isn’t sure.

A soft knock comes from the open door to the office. Without removing her hands from her eyes, she yearns to shoo whoever is there away. She wants to be alone, so she can finally finish three months of scheduling in advance. And also to mope in peace. 

“Bad time?”

The voice does not belong to any of the employees that might be visiting her office. In fact, it’s a voice she hasn’t heard much at all recently. Her hands drop into her lap. When she opens her eyes, Davrin stands in the doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. The bruises on his face have healed to return that classically handsome face that had her heart about to shoot out of her chest in the middle of a crowded bar the first time she saw it. “No,” she breathes almost as if she’s unsure he’s really there. Which must look awfully stupid, she decides before straightening her shoulders and clearing her throat. “No, it’s not… a bad time, I mean. It’s not a bad time.”

God, she’s babbling like a fucking fool.

He nods. One of his hands flexes around something in his pocket. A wallet? Car keys? She doesn’t know, and isn’t certain why she’s speculating or even noticing it all. “That’s good.” The faintest hint of a smile touches his lips. “I was hoping we could talk.”

She frowns. “That’s foreboding,” she replies. Nothing bad has ever happened after that statement is made. Never. Not once.

“Maybe if you’re the one who was an ass,” he counters. The smile remains, but she can see the nerves beginning to glimmer in his eyes. He’s anxious. How unusual. As foolish as it is right now, she allows the hope that's been simmering in the back of her mind to come to a rolling boil. “You have five minutes?”

An empty schedule hollers that she doesn’t have five seconds, let alone five minutes. “Yeah,” she answers. A lie but he doesn’t have to know that. Glee and despair rage through her veins as her heart pounds. 

People don't usually come asking for Silvia by name, which is the assumption she makes as to why there had been no warning prior to his arrival. Plus the young woman at the desk is deeply invested in a video she’s attempting to discreetly listen to through an ear bud she thinks is hidden behind her hair. It is not well hidden at all, considering the white device is poking through long strands of brown hair. Not that it matters at this time of night really. On a Tuesday, Silvia wouldn’t even normally still be here.

Yet here she is, prepared to push heavy double doors to head out into the summer heat. An arm reaches over her to open one before she even gets the chance. “And they say chivalry is dead,” she teases, hoping to get that sideways grin she’s been longing to see in response. “First, saving kittens and now opening doors for ladies. What will he do next?”

That grin doesn’t come, though. Something more reserved takes its place. Tight lipped and anxious. “I’m being told that getting a puppy might help my market value,” he tells her, and despite all the conversations she’s planned out in her head, all the cut and dry arguments she’s been looking to have, she laughs. 

It is a damp evening. The humidity has to be up near a hundred percent. Her skin immediately feels sticky as she steps outside. Cars are sparsely parked throughout the lot, and as the sun goes down, she imagines there will be a thin wet sheen left on all of them. Peeling off her sweatshirt would make the most sense, but she didn’t expect to see Davrin when she committed to the leotard under leggings look this morning. There is no way she’ll be seen without a bra right this second. Given how she’s already melting simply under his gaze, she has to make him work for something.

“I miss you.”

So plain and to the point. He says it quietly. Not in the way of avoiding being overheard by a passerby, but rather, he intends it only for her. The statement is tender, intimate even. If the heat didn’t already have her cheeks flushing, they certainly would be now. He still stands with his hands in his pockets. His eyes are fixed on the ground between him. Like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in a cookie jar too many times. It’s uncharacteristic of him. From that very first night, he’s oozed confidence. He is smooth and sure of himself. She loves that about him, so seeing this side is quite the stark contrast.

His chest swells with a deep intake of breath. “I used to break a lot of stuff as a kid,” he explains. “Drove my parents up a wall.” Imagining neat as a pin picture perfect Davrin giving his parents grief and making a mess is comical, but she folds her arms over her chest, watching as he fiddles with the item in his pocket. “Got to the point where my dad was so fed up with my shit that he taught me how to make something new with the things I destroyed.”

From the pocket, a small box is produced, the size and shape of which is familiar to her. Her brother recently slid a very similar vessel across her kitchen counter for her appraisal. To make sure the contents were acceptable. Were worthy of the answer he was looking to receive. Silvia sucks in a sharp breath. While that sort of box only usually holds one sort of thing, it certainly doesn’t really tie into whatever story Davrin is about delve into… right? She bites down on the inside of both cheeks in anticipation.

Eyes shift from the ground to the small wooden box that he’s turning over in his hand. “Snapped a door right off its hinges once,” he scoffs. “Dad had me turn it into a coffee table and didn’t make it easy for me either.” 

The coffee table that sits in front of his couch doesn’t draw much attention to itself. The surface is smooth and the rings in the wood are all mismatched between thin planks of wood. It reminds her of the expensive cutting boards her brother likes to purchase. Thin pieces of wood grouped together in clean even lines. Placed together piece by piece with a little elbow grease. She hadn’t even considered he might have made it himself.

“So I started making little things here and there.” A part of her wonders if he’s made the box he refuses to stop fidgeting with. “Mom got a mug rack. Made my dad one of those bottle opens you keep on the wall. My sister got a whole bookshelf.” Siblings. She hasn’t even thought to ask him about his siblings. All she knows about his parents is that they live a few hours away. Additional immediate family members have been a second thought. She can't help but wonder what else she's been too preoccupied to notice or learn about him.

Between the side of his index finger and the pad of his thumb, he now holds the box, deciding what exactly comes next. Her nostrils flare. Anticipation rolls through her belly. “Kept my hands busy and me out of trouble.” This troublesome boy is still a little tough to picture, but she thinks of that sideways grin and air of confidence and decides maybe he’s not too far removed from the man she knows now. “Maybe that’s why I became such an asshole. I can’t say I’ve done much woodworking as of late… at least not before this.” He holds the box out for her. “Here.”

She hasn’t said a single word since they came outside. The hairs at the back of her neck are curling with sweat in the heat. “For me?” the words leave her mouth quietly, barely even a question she means to consciously ask. This time when she meets his eyes, they’re staring right back at her. That fire he usually brings with him. That warmth she’s so drawn to. Something passionate and beautiful and unerring and so innately him whatever arguments she’s had well planned out in her head are gone. “You were really an ass.”

“I know,” he chuckles, though it's laced with a bitterness she isn’t used to. Someone or maybe more than one person has told him as much. Has affirmed what she felt wasn’t an overreaction. Has been on her side. Which thrills her much like finding a twenty dollar bill in a pair of clean jeans: exciting but certainly not expected. “If you don’t want it and would rather send me on my way, I get it.”

Shaking her head, she looks back down at the box in her hand. “I didn’t say that.” She would be hard pressed to kick him to the curb at the very least. It would reflect poorly on her to turn away the at risk youth he describes himself as. That’s reason enough to let him stay… on top of the fact she’s missed his voice more than she even realized. “I said you were an ass. Not that you should leave, or that I didn’t want a gift.”

He laughs a bit more genuinely this time around. Deep and hardy in his chest. She knows how the bass is rumbling in his chest, and she has half a mind to drag him back into her office and lock the door because of that. “I’ll take it.” He’s the perfect specimen. All tall and broad and carved from the most remarkable stone she’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing. 

Or maybe it’s never been stone at all. He isn’t cold like a stone. Sunlight practically radiates out of him. He’s the center of whatever room he’s in, and somehow she’s happy to stand in that light. To bask in its warmth. Perhaps he is never the marble man she pictures crafted in his likeness but rather a man built from the softest and most beautiful wood in the forest he loves so much. Crafted with such care that he shouldn’t dare enter her orbit, yet he remains. In that radiance, she would be more than happy to be the cat curled up in its warmth for days on end… forever if would allow it.

Fuck.

She clutches the box in her hand. “Davrin, I was invited to be a guest instructor at the company I used to dance for.” It seems like a different life. Drifting on an enticing emptiness through every performance. Counting. Hitting. Succeeding. Day in and day out in costume fittings. Breaking in new pointe shoes. Listening to the ever present whispers of more seasoned dancers. Dark and cruel words toward one another. Toward others. Toward her. Toward the universe. Smoking cigarettes after hard rehearsals late into the night. The empty feeling following her into bed each and every night. Thrilling and wondrous and mother approved. 

Confused, he shrugs. “That’s awesome… right?” There’s something stuck in his throat. Like there’s more he might want to say in response. Like he wants to question the topic’s introduction here. Much like his siblings, he doesn’t know much about what happened or even when she had been in the years prior to returning here. “I don’t know if you’re excited about this or not?”

The biggest draw to her studio in her home city is that she teaches classes there. She’s acquired her own following of serious ballet students. Serious enough to pay large sums of money and attend multiple classes a week in between homeschool lessons. But she wants to provide some safe space. A soft place to land and not have to listen to those intrusive whispers for as long as she can help. “I accepted,” she whispered. The box is burning in her hands.

“Okay,” he responds. She can smell his laundry detergent. Light and clean. Nothing overly fragrant because it gives him a headache. She doesn’t know when he got so close, but just a few more inches and they’ll be chest to chest. Either one of them could be the culprit moving in on the other. She doesn’t really care which one of them it is honestly. “There’s a catch?” She can hear his frown.

“I leave in two and a half weeks.”

“There it is.” She can’t bring herself to look at him. Not with the unaired anger and sadness in her eyes. He’ll immediately see it and insist on saying something nice, which will send her right over the edge. There’s already an email in her drafts rescinding her acceptance of the position. Offering to provide covering funds for whatever lodgings they have already secured for her. Choosing to stay and maintain her every day. The stable life with limited risk involved she’s built for herself. Maybe break up with a volunteer firefighter via text message who was a bit of a dick while hurt or make up with him and live happily ever after like some fairy in the woods she’s been a principal dancer in a show about. “How far away?”

Far enough that he mother didn’t have to worry about her. “About an ocean’s length,” is all she offers as a response. 

His brows shoot up, and he lets out a heavy sigh. “Damn.” There’s some nervous bouncing on the balls of his feet. An occasional nod as he processes the information. “That’s… not close.”

This wouldn’t be her first time breaking up in a parking lot, but somehow the sting of it is so much worse than any sobbing heartbreak she’s had with some shitty half baked boy trying to undersell her worth. She hasn’t even shed a tear yet, though the lump sitting firmly in her throat is begging to change that. The past weeks avoiding him and his shitty attitude have been wasted. If this is it, she would have had the fight right then and there while he was all battered and bruised. She would have taken a little more time together to enjoy the good thing before it fizzled into a grand nothingness like a falling star in the sky.

Hands land on her face with an impossibly gentle touch. “Hey.” She looks up and can feel the hot tears roll out of her eyes and over his thumbs. “Do you not want to go or–”

“No, I do!” she barks out, louder than she intends. “I do.” What a sap she is bawling in the palms of his hands. It’s only been a few months. It could have been more. She has no reason to be this broken over something that started as a blind fucking date. But it’s good. It’s so good. “I just don’t want this to end.”

His brows knit together. “End?” he repeats. “Are you ending this?”

“No… I… don’t think so?” She figures an ocean between a short term thing is enough of an axe to chop the head off of the relationship entirely. “I don’t want to… but three months is a long time.”

His hands leave her longing to be held in the stifling heat. “Open the box,” he says. Even. Commanding. The corners of his lips are curled up ever so slightly. She stares at him, crying in the parking lot of her own fucking establishment. Feeling like a fool in love. “Open it.”

She doesn’t know why she obeys so easily. There has been no apology. Just the fleeting chance that whatever this thing between them is might end. The teeth of the box yield to her touch easily and pop open to reveal the very thing she imagines could be in such a box, though it is quite different than what she might imagine. It’s still a ring but made of wood that appears to be such a dark brown she can barely make out the pattern in the grain. A thin broken line of green stones runs along the length of it. The varnish shines in the dying light of day. “I know you were trying to help,” he adds. She turns the ring over and over between her fingers. “And I didn’t appreciate that as much as I should have.”

Seeing him in that hospital had been difficult. Not only was it the middle of the night, but she was panicking now. Unable to get much of anywhere with the woman at reception. Her brother was no help. Then Davrin showed up with a forehead bandaged. All but hobbling over to her. Smelling like smoke and the goddamn hospital. There was nothing else she wanted in that moment than for him to be okay. She barely slept at all that night, counting his breaths and movements as best she could until the sun rose again. 

“I’m sorry, Silvia.”

It’s a token of apology. A piece that says he doesn’t know if his words will make up for everything, but he’s a beautiful creation I’ve made with you in mind regardless. It’s smooth and small in her hand. Something that has been so reserved and held in his past it’s been relegated to family now includes her. A tiny sob leaves her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she blathers, raising a hand. “Not about… all of that. You deserved the cold shoulder.” He laughs at this despite her meaning every word, and she doesn’t doubt that he hears her loud and clear as well. “I… no one’s ever… made me anything before.”

Not since grade school. Something like a picture or a valentine. A little fleeting craft to be shared between childhood friends. Nothing of note has had the effort put in like this. Each stone sits floating in the resin that’s been sanded and smoothed to a slick shine. Care has been put into each level of this tiny piece of an apology so much so that it has every wall she’s ever built crumbling at his feet.

The pads of his thumbs brush away stray tears once again. Her eyes meet his. Cool and sharp meeting warm and open. “I’m in this, Silvie,” he states firmly. An open declaration of words they haven’t mentioned in quite some time. “If you’re in this, too, that’s enough for me.”

Between his gaze and the lump in her throat, she’s overwhelmed by every emotion she’s tried to plow through since she’s met him. Serendipity is not meant for her life. The de Riva’s are plagued by tragedy and poor decisions. There has been no generational skip. There are no exceptions. They are destined for misfortune.

Yet the human embodiment of the sun wants to love her.

She should be called a fool for allowing this into her life, but even a fool is entitled to joy once in a while.

“I’m in this,” she agrees with a nod before settling happily against his lips.