#because?? yearning. is my. favorite. emotion!!!

[meitanteisachi]

*taps mic* let it be known that yearning is my favorite emotion that is all bye

[ars0nism]

something about writing a couple who loathe each other as much as they still love each other. something tore them apart years ago and they havent healed, how could they, they were apart the whole time, but then they reenter each other's lives and they want to fix it, they really do, but every attempt at fixing it just makes it worse, every "maybe this time we can get back together" ends in a fight and its over, really, but maybe its not. sometimes while fixing something you end up cutting yourself on the pieces or whatever

[comradekatara]

most fandoms are prone to reducing characters to consumable archetypes for the purposes or comedy (or shipping). but what’s amazing to me is that the atla fandom somehow not only reduces characters into stock tropes, but somehow manages to whittle them down into their exact opposites. aang’s whole deal is that he is a wise and prodigious monk who very deliberately represses the depth of his grief so as not to be crushed under the weight of it, and so naturally he is reduced into an oblivious, blissfully happy child. katara’s whole deal is that she yearns for joy and adventure and often reacts to situations before she’s thought through the consequences, so naturally she’s reduced to the overly-serious, sensible voice of reason. sokka’s whole deal is that he’s a miserable hater who’s way too smart for his own good and thus overthinks himself into a hole at every turn, so naturally he’s reduced to a wacky goofy idiot with no tact and no brain. toph’s whole deal is that she’s uniquely thoughtful and perceptive and waits and listens before acting, so naturally she’s reduced to an impulsive chaotic gremlin with all the emotional maturity of a sea cucumber. zuko’s whole deal is that he can’t read a room, has no filter, and loves to monologue, so naturally he’s reduced to a brooding stoic. iroh’s whole deal is that he is tormented by the sins of his past at all times, so naturally he’s reduced to everybody’s favorite perfect and unimpeachable old man. azula’s whole deal is that her undying loyalty and obedience to an egomaniac shall be her undoing, so naturally she’s reduced to a selfish and hysterical woman who just does whatever the fuck she wants because she’s ontologically evil i guess. ty lee’s whole deal is that she is constantly performing, so naturally people always just take her at face value. i could go on. but i think you get my point.

[atzfilm]

𝐚𝐭𝐳𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦'𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 .ᐟ

all works of writing/summaries are not owned by me, and all credits go to the respective writers! this list will be updated periodically with stories i have read ♡ i thought that as a writer myself who consumes talented stories on this site, it would be good for me to show you all a fraction of what i read myself tehe (i read majority poly!teez/mc so that category will be filled!!) ☆

— note: 90% of these fics will contain mature themes, since it's all i read! please read the specific author's notes before reading!

❤︎ - personal favorites

ᴍᴜʟᴛɪ

— ❤︎ mists of celeste (??/reader, several pairings) by @hongism

genre: scifi/space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut, fluff

summary: sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you.

notes: as an atiny on tumblr.com, i feel like it's a rite of passage to read moc. it's one of the best written works i have had the privilege of reading. it's gripping, it's heartbreaking, it's filled with yearning and love, and has you hoping that the characters survive this ordeal. san i love you most you can tell by the masterlist alone that she has crafted a whole space pirate universe intricately and with the utmost care. she deals with the trauma of the characters so so well and i cant lie ive cried a lot reading it jdhdksjddj, it's the fic that made me start reading ateez ff, i mean, i started reading before even knowing ateez and i had to have a separate tab open to remember who was who. that alone can tell you how much of a work of art this is. omg, im blabbering, but please read this.

— hotel california (ot8/reader) by @mint-yooxgi

genre: yandere, demon!au

summary: checking in to a hotel ran by yandere!Ateez, the boys decide she can no longer leave

my notes: im not too sure how i came across this work, i think it was an endless scroll of me trying to find something to read, but nevertheless, this story. i have not finished it yet (a great and utter pity) but from what ive read so far. im actually very concerned on how much ive read of this in one night 😨, i think the plot is so so unique, i love a strong mc who does not take any shit whatsoever, i love gaslighting demon!ateez 🙂‍↕️. i had to stare at the wall several times while reading,, felt like jim in the office truly. UGH it's just so good??? i can't recommend enough!! PLEASE READ.

— ❤︎ the answer (ot8?/reader, side pairings) by @berryunho

genre: cult au, thriller

summary: life is great until your best friend goes missing your senior year of university, leaving little more than an apology and goodbye. Months later, you’re determined to find out what happened to him and discover a situation much more complicated than you would have ever anticipated - as in - Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers 'sect.'

my notes: i first discovered this fic on ao3 and somehow found out lauren had a tumblr blog but i digress – i found this one night and was so excited that i found something so so unique and different and i am pretty sure i didn't sleep until 4am reading everything omg . it's truly so funny and i adore the main character more than anything, the snide remarks truly encompass and make you feel their emotions? cult leader hongjoong is something else... without spoiling hfjdjf. i beg lauren often for a spoiler because it's just that good. please read.

— OUTLAW (ot8/reader, side pairings) by @staytinyville

genre: wild west!au, smut(?), angst

summary: you thought you would be spending the rest of your life tending to the hotel your family ran. while you knew it was common to see bandits come and go in your town, you felt safe in your home. at least safe enough with a weapon at your disposal. however you were no match for eight men who were known to most as outlaws around the plains. hawt kind of adventures did they go on?

my notes: i started reading this a while back and have yet to finish, but so far the premise is so so so interesting and i love readying cowboy aus rjkfjkdrfkj ITS SO GOOD!!!! I CANT WAIT TO CATCH UP

— sway with me (ot8/reader, wooyoung/reader) by @luvt0kki

genre: sci-fi/space/futuristic!au

summary: former noble turned space pirate, wooyoung was now part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next. the ship was their home, his home…and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet.

my notes: tokki already knows all of this but,,, i started this a month or so ago? and i read the first chapter and i legit lost my mind,,, in the calmest way possible... the first chapter is gripping and it sets a environment that i very much would love to live in??? it's just so so well written, and the reader is very much my type NDFAKKJ ANYWAY... it's told from the pov of wooyoung and i love it??? so MUCH?? please read ok bye

— one more rep (woosan x reader) by @cheollipop

genre: smut, f2l, trainers woosan

summary: san got a little too excited watching you exercise in purple – his favourite colour – and wooyoung was nothing if not a tease. turning their attention back to you, they didn't expect to see you equally worked-up.

my notes: ???? i actually read this a few times,,,, this fic yall.... i cannot... the mental image of woosan in the gym makes me delusional enoughdsjkaskfjksd PLEASE.

— like a dream (yungi x reader) by cheollipop

genre: bf!yungi, smut

summary: with only the orange hues of the lamp illuminating the room, they have you for the first time, and it feels just like a dream.

my notes: yunho and mingi are my weakness,, so the both of them together.....

sᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

to be added!

ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ

— horizon by @pxedpiper (ft. ateez/f.reader)

genre: pirate!au

summary: once a princess of a kingdom you loathed to call yours, you have somehow found yourself aboard a pirate ship, stuck on the ocean waves. now you try to figure out how to escape them, but as you continue to journey with them, you find yourself wondering if you even want to.

my notes: i just found this the other day but remembering reading it a while ago! it's so so well written and i enjoyed it sm 🥹

ʏᴜɴʜᴏ

to be added!

ʏᴇᴏsᴀɴɢ

to be added!

sᴀɴ

to be added!

ᴍɪɴɢɪ

— safe haven (mingi/reader) by @atxxzist

genre: bodyguard!au, fluff

summary: your father has had enough of your shit, and hires Song Mingi; his best friend's son, to be your personal bodyguard

my notes: is it possible to fall down the mingi hole deeper than i already have? maybe! this fic pretty much lives in my head,,, endlessly,,,, i love mingi. i love this au so much and i especially love bodyguard aus, i think it's one of my favorite genres and this deepens it.... PLEASE READ.

ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ

— rough rider (wooyoung x afab!reader) by @choism

genre: smut

summary: In which you meet a hot twink at a club who has a slightly unhealthy obsession with the 2000's and y2k bimbocore.

my notes: i......... there's no way i can describe this fic... if u yearn for wooyoung the way i do. read this.

— what happened to slow down? (bf!wooyoung x reader) by @ja3hwa

genre: smut

summary: coming back from a house party, you and woo couldn't seem to keep your hands off one another. everything was happening so fast. you two didn't even make it to the bedroom.

my notes: insert a photo of someone throwing a phone and screaming crying, then picking it up to read the rest. thats me kjrfakfajkf

ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ

to be added!

[strawberryspence]

Eddie’s never been in a serious relationship. He’s used to kissing in the dark alleys of a bar, murmured lies underneath bleachers. He was never the one to be shown off, to be proud off and celebrated. No matter how much he yearned for it, he was never meant to be that person. 

Not until he meets Steve Harrington. And god, to be loved by him really makes Eddie rethink all of his preconceived opinions. Maybe Eddie is serious relationship material. 

But Steve… Steve’s a hopeless romantic. He gets him a set of D&D dices just because he thought Eddie would love them. Opens the door for him, opens the car for him. Tries to learn his hobbies, learns to like it. The first time they slept together, Eddie woke up with breakfast in bed. Which was fucking ridiculous because Steve should be the one waking up with breakfast in bed. He buys Eddie flowers for every date, even though Eddie teases him for it. 

And Eddie— Eddie’s a newbie in this. He’s been trying his best to catch up in the romance department. He resolves to do something when Steve got him some tulips for a date once and Eddie brought it up. 

“I love it, Stevie. It’s so nice to get flowers, hmmm?” Eddie smiles, a little bit dazed with affection as he smells the flower. 

Eddie would like to think he knows Steve’s expressions pretty well. So when he sees that beautiful smile drop from his boyfriend’s face, it all clicks for Eddie.

Steve Harrington has never gotten flowers. 

Eddie starts with those flowers in Melvald’s. Joyce has very nicely informed him that they are called Gerberas. Eddie got Steve a bunch of different colors. It’s not that big, just a small bundle. He didn’t want to over do it, just wanted to test the waters. Find out how his boyfriend feels about getting flowers.

It’s embarrassing walking with a bunch of flowers, with his whole metal thing but all of that vanishes when Eddie picks Steve up for a date and he sees the flowers in Eddie’s hands. 

“What’s that for?” Steve looks at the flowers warily. 

Eddie smiles, trying to hide the nerves he’s been feeling since he got the flowers, “For you, sunshine. They reminded me of you so I got them.” 

Like everything else he’s offered Steve— his friendship, his life, his heart— Eddie holds out his hand with just enough courage.

Steve takes the flowers with reluctance, staring at it with fondness and some other emotion Eddie can’t pinpoint. 

They sit in silence for a minute, as Steve just stares and as Eddie just stands with his nerves. Eddie opens his mouth to take it back, and to just swallow the embarrassment. Maybe flowers just ain’t for everyone. 

But then, Steve starts tearing up, sniffling a little, as he blinks at Eddie, “I love it, baby. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” 

Eddie stares in shock as his boyfriend runs back into the house to put it in a vase. Steve’s eyes are still red around the rims when he finally comes out, his nose scrunched up from the sniffling. 

Eddie doesn’t bring it up, he knows Steve won’t want to talk about it. But if they’re a little clingy with each other in the coming days, who’s gonna be mad? 

Since then, Eddie’s made it his life mission to get Steve flowers on the randomest days. He’ll get Steve some sunflowers on bad days, maybe pick him some daisies from the field for when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.

Till to this day, Steve gets a little teary eyed when Eddie gets him a random flower. It melts Eddie’s heart into a goo, that this simple action makes his boyfriend tear up with joy. He thinks, in a few more weeks, he’ll garner enough courage to buy flowers and just tell Steve that he loves him. 

It goes on for a few weeks before it comes to a halting stop one random summer day. Steve’s car had to go into the shop for maintenance, so Eddie picked him up and dropped him off to work. When he’s about to pick him up, Eddie goes and picks up some carnations Joyce had reserved for him.  

“Hello, to my favorite lesbian.” Eddie greets when he enters the Family Video store, only seeing Robin at the counter. He closes the doors behind him, flipping the sign from open to close.

“Hello to you too, my favorite gay.” Robin lights up, throwing away the magazine she’s reading. 

“I am here to pick you and the majesty.” Eddie dramatically bows, the flowers still in his hand.

Robin laughs, making grabby hands at him, “You could’ve just picked us up. No need for flowers, you know?” 

Eddie laughs. Whoops, maybe he should’ve gotten something for Robin too. “I am sorry, Robin. This ones for my Stevie. I’ll get you something next time.” 

Robin stares at him, blinking in surprise, “Those flowers are for Steve?” 

Eddie nods enthusiastically. 

“Steve? Our Steve?” 

Eddie squints at her, “Do we have any other Steve?” 

“Our Steve… who is… very much allergic to flowers?”

Eddie blinks at her with owlish eyes. 

“No, he’s not!” He exclaims. 

Robin looks at him, and back to the flowers, then back to him again. She gets this look on her face, like she holds the key to the universe. If Eddie squints really hard, he can see the bulb lighting on her head. 

But then she bursts out of laughter. Bend to your knees, hitting the floor, aching ribs kind of laughter. 

Okay, Eddie’s kinda offended now. 

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, unable to hide his frown. 

“What’s happening?” Steve comes out from the backroom, confused with Robin’s laughter. “Oh, hey Eds!” 

Robin turns to him, pointing and red on the face with laughter,  “Oh my god. Steve— you’re freaking whipped!” 

“What?” Steve turns to her with confusion. 

Eddie and Steve just stare at her as she takes her time to calm down. 

“I thought…” Robin takes a breath, “I thought you were having a very extreme allergic reaction to spring. I was this close to booking you an appointment with the doctor! You didn’t tell me you were getting flowers from Eddie.” 

Eddie turns to his boyfriend, “Stevie? Are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No!” Steve exclaims. He grabs the flowers out of Eddie’s hands, “See! I am fine!” 

“Steve.” Robin warns.

“I am fine! I love getting flowers from you, Eds. It’s— it’s the best.” 

They stare at each other. Steve squints, his nose scrunching up when he gets a whiff of the flowers. 

“Achoo!” 

“You are allergic!” Eddie exclaims, points an accusing finger at him. 

“I am sorry!” Steve says, his eyes watering again. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?! What kind of boyfriend am I?” Eddie pulls on his hair in frustration, bringing it into his mouth, “Jesus! I was giving you so many flowers! You must’ve felt awful! How could I have not seen that?!” 

“Eddie—“ Steve moves closer. 

“I thought you were crying with joy when I gave you flowers. It was allergies! Why didn't you tell me?!”

“Oh my god!” Robin shouts, making both of them freeze. She turns to Steve, “Steve! Why didn't you tell your boyfriend you were allergic? That’s dumb and made you sick!” 

She then turns to Eddie, “And Eddie! Steve's extremely, insanely, in love with you to the point that he’ll accept the flowers from you! It’s nothing against you! He wants the flowers, his body doesn’t!” 

Huh? 

“What did you say?” Eddie croaks out, breathless with disbelief. 

“Robin.” Steve gasps. 

Robin rolls her eyes, “I said Steve is extremely—“ She stops, her eyes widening in realization, “Uh-oh. Uhm.” 

She perks up, cupping her ears, “What’s that? Did you guys hear that? I think there’s a raccoon in the backroom. Let me check. You guys stay here.” Robin basically zooms out of the room.  Eddie has never seen her move that fast, and they fought an evil wizard together.

Eddie turns to Steve when they’re finally alone. 

“Give me that.” Eddie says, pulling the flowers away from Steve.

“That’s mine.” Steve pouts. 

“Sunshine, you’re allergic.” Eddie keeps the flowers away from him, tucking it on the table. They stand awkwardly around each other, not knowing what to say. 

“Did you hear—“

“What was Robin—“

Eddie smiles at him, softening when he sees Steve chew on his lips nervously, “You first, Stevie.”

Steve nods, gulping as his eyes finally meet Eddie’s, “I am sorry for not telling you. I really loved the flowers and I honestly thought the medication would be enough. Maybe next time, you can tell me beforehand so I can take some and actually enjoy being around them.” 

“I am never getting you flowers anymore if it gets you all sniffly.” Eddie chuckles at Steve’s headstrong perspective, “So— Uh— About what Robin said…” 

Steve straightens up, stammering to spit the words out, “You don’t have to say anything! I am not forcing you to say anything, Edd. We could forget it even happened. Who even is Robin?” 

Eddie moves closer, pushing Steve in between the aisles of the store where no one from outside can see them. 

“I just want to know if it’s true, Stevie.” Eddie whispers, his own voice quivering with anxiety and anticipation. 

Steve stares at him, sensing his boyfriend’s own worry. The nerves in his face melted into an affectionate smile. 

“Eds, baby. I kept all the flowers you gave me till they died even though it gave me the worst allergies. Of course, I am," He scoffs, "As Robin has said, extremely, insanely, in love with you.” 

Eddie breaks into a smile, “Well, I am also extremely, maybe even more insanely, in love with you. The flowers weren’t exactly fitting my metal image, but I was still out there picking out flowers in the field.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “Oh, you’re annoying.” 

There’s no more words said after that. Well, because they started making out right there, all the newly found love and emotions all in the open. That in itself is enough for now.

After the night Eddie found out that Steve’s allergic, Eddie calls El up. The next day, El teaches Eddie how to make origami flowers.

Eddie never buys flowers for Steve ever again. 

He makes it for him instead.

(No one tell Steve, but in a few years, Eddie will ask him to unfold the paper flowers. Only to find a question wedged between its stems and folds. Steve says yes to the question, with real tears of joy.

On their wedding day, Steve will walk down another aisle, a bouquet of handmade flowers made from Eddie's hospital discharge papers and NDAs in his hand.)

[moonlinos]

Invisible string (pt. III)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: After so many years of being closed off from the idea of love, you finally allow yourself to feel it freely with Minho.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, swearing

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: A part of this chapter was almost shamelessly inspired by the song that inspired the plot in the first place, Invisible String by Taylor Swift. Also really inspired by my favorite Minho vlog, Lee Know Log 4 🩷

To those who have asked to be tagged in this story: would any of you be interested in being tagged in any new work I post later? Let me know! And thank you for reading and giving me such a great experience posting my writing here for the first time 🩷

← part II ♡ ⟳ part I

You spend the entire flight home processing everything that had happened during the trip; from Minho’s words, to your kisses and touches, to you ultimately acknowledging your own romantic feelings for him. Although it all felt sudden, it had been a long time coming.

As his car stops at the front of your house, Minho steps out and walks with you, your backpack in hand.

“I know you’re scared. I understand that even more now that I know about your past relationships,” he speaks softly as the two of you stop at the front door, “And I want you to know that I’m gonna be patient.”

You nod slowly, although the desire to answer him is still so prevalent in your mind, the words lodged in your throat and yearning to spill out. But you’ve made the mistake of jumping into relationships far too often, always driven by your emotions, and every time, the outcome has been disastrous. You don’t want that to happen with Minho.

So, you settle on a question that has been eating away at you.

“Why do you like me, Minho?”

His face twists into a deep frown before ultimately softening. Carefully placing your backpack on the step leading to the front door, he sighs.

“You shouldn’t have to ask me that,” he assures you, his rough hands touching your shoulders before moving down your arms to entwine with your own. “You don’t even realize how fucking amazing you are, do you? I’d move mountains, fight anyone and do anything if it meant I’d have the privilege to see you smile.”

And, just like that, you feel your lips stretch out into a small smile at his words. He grins at you.

“Just like that. I’d do anything to see that,” he says. “And you take care of your friends simply because you love them, never asking for anything in return. You collect plushies like me, you appreciate the criminally underrated flavor of lemon cake, and you worked at the same convenience store as me, and spilled coffee all over my notebook on the day we met. That’s why I like you; because you’re you.”

Tears threaten to well up in your eyes, so you quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your shoes. With a nod, you wrap your arms around Minho, taking in his scent and reveling in the comforting warmth of his body. Little did he know, you were just as willing to do whatever it took to keep him near you. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead as you break away from his embrace.

“I’ll call you later, okay? Thank you for the trip.”

 

As soon as you step inside your house, Eunha is quick to come running towards you, her hands dirty with flour as she abandons her unbaked cookies on the counter and pulls you into a hug.

“I missed you so much,” she whines, “How will I survive living without you next year?”

You chuckle, watching as her lips turn into a pout.

“I’m sure we’ll suffer equally, if that makes you feel better.”

She fakes a sob, turning on her heels and heading toward the kitchen.

“Oh, Hyunjin is in a crisis, apparently,” she tells you, wiping her hands on her apron. “He called me three times just today to ask if you were back already.”

You let out a sigh. Hyunjin was more often than not either glum or vexed due to his trials and mishaps in finding love. He once joked that you two would end up having to marry each other with how things were going. You dreaded his reaction to the news of Minho soon entering your life in a new way.

“The hotel’s Wi-Fi was a joke, but I honestly didn’t even think to check my phone,” you tell Eunha, who giggles as she cuts her cookies into heart shapes. “What? Why are you giggling like that?” You ask her with a grin, approaching the counter.

She shrugs. “Nothing. I didn’t even think to check my phone,” she playfully mimics your voice, looking up at you, “I’m guessing you had fun, then?”

“I did,” you beam, “It was everything I thought it would be and even more.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “Even more?”

“Even more,” you reiterate. “I had so much fun with Minho. I forgot how good it feels to just let go and allow myself to feel what I want to feel.”

Eunha’s lips curl into a small smile. She hums, lowering her head in a feeble attempt at pretending to focus on the cookies in front of her. “And what did you want to feel this weekend?”

“Like maybe I can finally fall in love again.”

Your friend lifts her head, her eyes wide. “Love?” she exclaims, “You, the girl who has spent every day since I met you talking about how love isn’t important, is wanting to fall in love?”

You chuckle at her reaction, shrugging dismissively. “In my defense, I had my reasons. Plus, some things made me change my mind.”

“More like someone,” Eunha teases, and you roll your eyes at her, but a smile spreads on your lips unwittingly. “I’m happy for you,” she beams, “and I think you should definitely fall in love again — not maybe.”

You sprint across the small kitchen space, circling around the counter to wrap your arms around Eunha and squeezing her as she lightly pushes you away, warning you about flour getting all over your clothes, but you don’t mind.

Because you love her, as you’ve learned this past weekend, and you don’t mind the mess when it comes to someone you love.

It’s only as you enter your room that you check your phone, which is filled with notifications from Hyunjin, much like Eunha had said. After ten missed calls, it seems he resorted to simply texting you.

Hyune: hey I know you’re in japan but can you answer the phone? Hyune: I promise I’ll be quick. just wanna talk to you Hyune: hear your voice idk I feel really alone rn and really bad idk lol Hyune: mingyu has his girlfriend over. can you believe they’re still together? Hyune: can you believe he has a girlfriend and I can’t even find someone to give me the time of day lol Hyune: can you believe every date I go to ends with me crying lol Hyune: sorry I’m being annoying and the messages aren’t even being delivered, you’re clearly having fun sorry Hyune: sorry Hyune: guess that’s why nobody can endure me for more than two dates Hyune: have fun 🤍 I love you

You feel your heart ache as you read his messages, answering with an apology. But before you can hit send on your second message, Hyunjin has already replied. 

Hyune: it’s okay. I’m sorry I even sent those in the first place

Me: Stop apologizing Me: You know I love you and I’ll always be here for you Me: Where are you?

Hyune: at my dorm Hyune: staring at the ceiling

Me: I’m coming over

True to his words, Hyunjin is lying on the floor of his dorm’s cramped living room once you open the door. There’s a small canvas propped up against the wall, a myriad of shades of blue forming the shape of a face. Your best friend’s talent never ceases to amaze you, and you have to fight the urge to stand still by the front door for a few seconds simply admiring his new painting.

“Look at this sulking Pisces,” you click your tongue as you approach Hyunjin, who only opens one eye to shoot you a glance.

“I’m in a fragile state and this is how you greet me,” he all but pouts before sitting up as you sit cross-legged beside him on the floor. “How was the trip?”

You shrug. “It was fun. We only had one day to explore the city, so we didn’t do much,” you say simply, tapping your fingers on your thigh.

You don’t want to sit and talk about how much fun you had during a trip when Hyunjin’s puffy, bloodshot eyes are staring directly at you. He was sad, and his sadness was palpable throughout the entire living room — his bitten lips, his painting, his hands covered in dried-up blue paint; everything was dripping in sadness. This was a constant with Hyunjin, but lately it had become even worse. He has an overwhelming desire to love and be loved, but his every attempt at fulfilling this desire is futile for reasons you cannot wrap your head around.

“I like the new painting,” you smile, focusing on the saddened blue face. Hyunjin scoffs beside you.

“It’s fucking terrible,” His hand shoves the canvas face down on the floor. You bite your lip. “Can’t even paint shit I like anymore. Every time I try, it always turns out muddy and sad.”

“What happened?”

He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Well I’m pathetic, so it’s still the same old reason. I had a date with this girl on Saturday, but she canceled at the last minute. Texted me something about me being too clingy after she agreed to go out with me, about how she knows she would feel suffocated if we dated.”

You furrow your brows together, anger bubbling up inside your chest. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, but don’t worry!” Hyunjin gave you a forced smile. “She made sure to remind me that it was her, not me, and that lots of women out there like guys like me. Whatever the fuck that means.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, turning his attention toward his hands before scratching some of the dried paint off. You sigh.

“Hyunjin, she isn’t wrong about that. You know that, right? You’re not the one at fault.”

He scoffs. “Sure seems like it when every date I’ve gone to since starting university has ended up with me being rejected for the same fucking reasons. It’s always me. Too clingy, too sentimental, too emotional,” his voice is almost a whisper as he speaks. He turns to face you again. “Remember how I would stop sleeping with you whenever I liked someone? Wanna know why I stopped doing that? ‘Cause I know it’s not gonna go anywhere anyway, so what’s the point? It never goes anywhere, and then I’m left alone again. Maybe I should just accept it, y’know? Some people are just meant to be alone, and clearly I’m one of them.”

Your anger has now morphed into sadness. You hate the way Hyunjin talks about himself, hate it even more how it seems nobody can appreciate the amazing person he is. Being caring and sentimental is not a flaw, and you pray that he never allows other people’s opinions to sway him into thinking that way. You pray he finds someone who can appreciate these qualities in him the same way you do.

“You’re not alone, Hyune,” you assure him, taking one of his hands in yours. “You’re surrounded by friends who love you so much, and while I know that’s not the type of love you yearn for, it’s still love.”

Hyunjin smiles softly at you before pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. It’s sudden but not entirely unexpected; the way you and Hyunjin dealt with shitty things in life and unpleasant feelings together had always been through sex, and you knew it always made him feel at least a little better afterward. And so you let him, returning the kiss even as part of you felt wrong doing it when your entire being was consumed with thoughts of only Minho.

As soon as he kisses you, he swiftly pushes you down onto the hardwood floor and hovers over you. Hyunjin’s fingers undo the buttons of your cardigan before slipping under your shirt, caressing your skin as his lips trail kisses down your neck. Soon enough, his body is pressed up against your spread thighs, and you know where this is going — but as much as you want to make your best friend feel better, you cannot bring yourself to do it.

“Hyune,” you softly call out, and he hums against your throat. “We can’t do this.”

He chuckles, squeezing your waist. “Mingyu always comes home late when he goes out with his girlfriend. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not that, Hyunjin. I just—”

“Do you not wanna fuck on the floor?” He asks, coming up to look at you. He cocks his head to the side. “We can just do it on the couch then, I really don’t wanna have sex with all those pictures of Mingyu and his friends staring at us in our room.”

“Hyunjin, no—”

“It’s not like we never did it on a couch before, stop being dramatic—”

“I’m in love with Minho.”

It comes out before you can fully comprehend what you’re saying, the word love slipping past your lips effortlessly. Hyunjin stills on top of you, his body rigid and tense. 

“Oh,” is all he offers you. You nod slowly, fingers picking at a drop of paint that stained the collar of his shirt.

You whisper, “I really am just as surprised as you are, believe me.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “I’m not surprised. I just— now you’re leaving me, too.”

You shake your head. It’s ludicrous to you that Hyunjin could imagine that you would ever even entertain the thought of leaving him. Running a hand through his messy hair, you pull him in and press a kiss to his nose. Hyunjin hides his face in the crook of your neck with a groan.

“Sorry, that was pathetic. I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologizes. “You know I don’t mean it like that. I just love you so much. I thought we would…”

You furrow your brows as he trails off his words. You thread your fingers through his long hair. “We would…?”

“End up together somehow,” he speaks slowly, his voice muffled, and your heart drops.

Hyunjin harboring these feelings about you was something you would never have imagined. You were certain he was content being your friend and having sex with you only until he found the right person. He went on several dates, after all. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million tiny pieces upon learning about his hidden desire for the future he used to so often joke about: you two ending up together simply because you were each other’s only choices.

“Hyunjin,” you start carefully, “I love you, too. So much. You’re my best friend, and that’s never going to change. We don’t have to be together romantically for us to be in love, y’know? I realized that just recently.”

You feel him nod his head, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

“I’m just sad I won’t have you anymore. I’m gonna miss us so much,” he places a small kiss on your collarbone. “Whenever I felt like I was in a dark pit with no way out, every single time you were there to bring me out of it and make me feel okay again. I love you so much for that.”

And you can only softly smile at his words before your heart shatters all over again as you hear him quietly begin to sob in your skin.

“Hyunjin,” you call out, although you know he won’t reply. “You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met. My love for you goes beyond us having sex — that wasn’t even important to me in our relationship. It was just something good on top of something already amazing.” With a slow nod, he lifts his head and gazes at you with red, teary eyes, causing your heart to ache even more. “I’ll never leave you. Ever. I’ll still answer your four hundred three a.m. texts, still let you hide away in my house, still happily listen to you complain about your days, and still hold you when you cry.”

Hyunjin pouts like a child, and your heart swells with fondness.

“Really?” He asks, and you chuckle with a nod.

“Really,” you assure him. “Me being with someone will never change our friendship, or my love for you. I mean, we won’t have sex anymore, of course, but I’ll still talk shit about your roommate with you so I’m sure you’ll forgive me.”

Hyunjin’s tearful expression vanishes, replaced by a small teasing grin. “I am gonna have to jerk off significantly more, so I don’t know about forgiveness,” he jokes.

You push him off you with a chuckle, sitting up as he tries to regain his balance.

“When did this whole thing with Minho even happen?” Hyunjin asks, setting his painting back against the wall. You shrug, buttoning up your cardigan. He hums. “So, are you already together?”

“Not yet,” you say, “but I’m gonna answer him after our class this week. If he fucking lets me, that is. He says he wants to be patient, but I don’t want to be patient. The only thing I wanna be is with him.”

Hyunjin’s whole body contorts as he groans. “Ew, what the fuck? When did you become such a sap?”

As you shove him back once more, you both burst into laughter while Hyunjin stumbles back and spills a mug filled with dirty paint water all over his floor.

The rest of the day goes by with you and Hyunjin painting together, a much broader array of colors and a much happier end result on the canvas: beautiful flowers painted by him standing alongside clumsily drawn hearts, stars, and other doodles painted by you. After signing your name above his elegant signature, you inform him the painting is leaving with you — it’s hanging up on your wall as soon as you arrive home.

Hyunjin is your best friend; it’s been this way for the last two years, and it’s indisputable to you that this fact will remain no matter what happens. As you watch him hunched over your painting, insisting that his flowers could be more detailed — even after you assured him a thousand times that they were perfect — you curse yourself for not realizing how beautiful this love between you two is. You hope he cherishes this love as well, in spite of his desire for the two of you to be together in the future. You know deep down this idea stemmed from his fear of solitude.

You’re not worried about him at all, though. He’s a precious soul, and anyone who fails to recognize that doesn’t deserve him. He’s simply getting rid of the wrong people in order to find the right person, someone who sees him as you do.

The love you feel for Hyunjin is unchanging, and if you had any say in it, it would be everlasting.

Your next Japanese class with Minho comes too soon, and you find yourself unprepared. Every trace of resolve you had after returning from your trip dissipated bit by bit every time you saw or talked to him. As soon as you saw his figure step into the coffee shop on Monday to pick up his usual order, you realized that every single scenario your mind had conjured up fell flat. Minho was beautiful, amazing, breathtaking — he deserved something grand and earth-shattering, not a simple answer from a girl who wasn’t even half as good as he was.

It certainly did not help that he, always true to his words, respected your time. Not once during his coffee trips or your never-ending talks through the phone did he mention the topic. And it was slowly but surely driving you insane.

You bite your lips so much on your way to university you’re sure your lipstick is gone by the time you enter the building, and you’re surprised your poor bag isn’t riddled with holes in the cloth from your insistent picking. You shouldn’t feel this nervous — Minho is the one waiting for an answer, after all. For all he knows, you could be simply building up the courage to let him down gently. But you are nervous. You’re terrified he will listen to your clumsy words and decide he deserves someone better. Or, worse yet, will only realize how undeserving of his love you are once you’re in a relationship.

And you don’t think you can face another heartbreak where you’re left to mend your gashes all alone.

You enter the building with shaky hands, fiddling with the strap of your bag and walking toward your classroom on autopilot as your mind is too busy running over all the ways in which this could go wrong.

All faded, however, once you saw Minho waiting for you in front of your classroom. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his phone, his body wrapped in a cozy-looking black sweater and sweatpants, a keychain of a cat plushie hanging from his backpack matching his phone case. You stop a few feet away from him. He deserves the world, and that terrifies you. Still, his presence alone melts away every ugly word of doubt and every piece of worry inside your body until the only thing you can feel is the swirling of that familiar pinwheel spinning inside your chest.

You greet him with a long hug, hoping he can’t feel your heart beating through your own sweater.

After class, he walks you to work, enthusiastically telling you about the progress he, Chan and Seungmin have made on their game. You nod and hum along to his words, but you can’t, for the life of you, focus on a word he’s saying. All you want to do is tell him you like him — god, you like him so much — but every time you’re close to doing it, the ugly words return and scream that he deserves more than an underwhelming confession on a gloomy, empty street.

You stop walking as you two reach the bench located just far away enough from the hustle and bustle of students on campus, the one where no one bothered you when you sat here by yourself for three years, the one that had oddly become your favorite bench among all the other identical ones scattered throughout your university.

Because it was here that you and Minho had your first real conversation, it was here where you two laughed and gasped at all the little coincidences between your lives, and it was here where you began to build a friendship with this wonderful guy who would unknowingly change you for the better.

It was the perfect place, and you berated yourself for not realizing that sooner.

Minho’s voice calling out your name pulls you away from your thoughts, his hand wrapping around yours and pulling you gently toward his body. You hum before colliding against his chest as he chuckles.

“You just stopped walking,” he says, a lilt of confusion in his voice. “I know you hate work, but I didn’t think it was this serious.”

And when you properly turn to look at him, Minho is smiling so beautifully under the somber sky of winter, as if he is the embodiment of sunshine — always glistening and radiating such a comforting warmth no matter how glum the world around him is. And, at the sight of him, you just can’t stop your words. Never mind how gloomy this campus seems or how lackluster your words are — Minho’s presence alone makes everything become golden.

“I like you because you’re you,” you mirror his words at you, “Because you laughed in my face for spilling coffee all over your notebook when I didn’t even know you, because you love coffee just as much as I hate it, and because you believe in silly myths about riding paddle boats together,” You blurt out, words completely unbidden by your brain. Minho’s eyes widened for a beat before slowly turning into crescent moons as a smile spread across his lips. You take a deep breath before continuing, the words flowing out of you so quickly you’re worried he won’t be able to understand you, “And you opened my eyes to the love I feel for my friends, which I was so fucking stupid and blinded to. But, most importantly, you taught me that love isn’t bad. It can never be bad because you’re love, Minho. You’re full of love, and there’s not an ounce of anything bad in you. And you make me feel deserving of this love, even though I still don’t understand how I can be deserving of something so beautiful.”

Minho’s arms are pulling you into an embrace before you can process everything you said, and by the time you seem to come to your senses, you realize tears have welled up in your eyes. He holds you close to him silently for a while, his left hand delicately massaging your scalp as you clutch onto the fabric of his sweater as if he might be taken away from you if you let go.

“I like you, too,” he whispers against your hair, and you feel your lips contort into a pout.

“You already told me that,” you grumble. “I just word-vomited my feelings to you and this is all you have to say?”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head. “What else is there to say? I like you so much I don’t think I can put it into words. I might just say something stupid if I talk about it too much.”

You furrow your brows, pulling away from his embrace to face him. “Something stupid like what?”

“Like saying I love you.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. Yet again, Minho has rendered you speechless. He shakes his head dismissively, a smile still etched onto his lips.

“No need to say anything. I told you it was stupid,” his eyes drift over to the bench beside you two, and his smile grows. “Guess this has to become my favorite bench too.”

You let out a laugh, but it’s cut short by your tears spilling out again. Minho quickly turns to look at you again, his expression shifting into a mixture of happiness and worry for you as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs.

And as the sun begins to set, the street lights flicker on, casting a warm, yellow glow over everything around you. You cup Minho’s face and press a chaste kiss to his lips, then to his nose, before wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into an embrace once again.

“I don’t think I’m ready to love you yet. I’m sorry,” you apologize, both to him and yourself.

Minho simply hums, kissing your cheek. “I told you I’m patient, because love is patient. I would wait an eternity for the privilege of hearing you say you love me.”

You and Minho have officially been together for almost two months by the time winter break arrives. You’ve done everything couples do, except for two things: say I love you and go all the way. You’ve done every other possible thing — well, Minho has done every other possible thing to you, with you discovering that Minho particularly loves eating you out, often laying on your lap on your couch after work and rubbing his head against your thighs like a cat, humming and sighing until he has your attention before all but begging you to let him go down on you. Whenever you offer to do the same to him, in any way, he immediately turns the offer down, saying he’s satisfied just pleasuring you. It always leaves you with a million questions, as you notice him have to adjust himself in his pants or coincidently go to the bathroom, but you don’t question it.

The two of you also found ways to get around the whole L-word situation. I missed you becoming your go-to phrase for when you want to scream out that you love him, but are still unable to, while he usually just makes you swallow both your words and his own that are lingering inside your mouth with a kiss.

You had fallen into a routine quickly, with you visiting Minho most evenings after your shift to just lay on Chan’s stiff leather couch and watch him work. You two always hang out with his co-workers slash friends for a while before leaving for the night — Seungmin becoming like the pestering but loveable little brother you never had — and you head to your house in Minho’s car before you sneak him into your home so Mrs. Choi remains none the wiser.

Her ‘no boyfriends spending over two days at the house’ rule can’t possibly apply if she doesn’t even know Minho is there in the first place.

And so, he’s been basically living alongside you and your housemates. This outcome was almost inevitable since Minho hates his roommates while you love each other’s company.

You’re now packing your things with Hyunjin, who’s been sitting on your bed for the last half-hour rather than helping you as he’d promised. In the past month, he’s been able to come to terms with the fact that his ideal future with you was nothing but a coping mechanism after a month of sulking every time Minho was around. He deleted every shitty dating app on his phone and now focuses on finding love naturally, recently going out with a girl he met in one of his classes. The first time they met was the epitome of a meet-cute, with her accidentally bumping into him and spilling black paint all over his shirt. It brought back memories of when you first met Minho, and you had high hopes that this time things would work out differently for him. But, judging by the scowl on Hyunjin’s face and his nonstop complaining, you were wrong.

“But, be for real, why did it take her six dates to realize she doesn’t think we’ll work out?” He grumbles, spinning one of your necklaces around his finger like it’s a toy. “I paid for every meal, made sure she got at least two orgasms every time we went out, and she just suddenly decides we won’t work out? Fuck off.’’

You chuckle, closing your suitcase after triple-checking that you packed Minho’s Christmas present and walking over to where Hyunjin is sitting, snatching your necklace from his hand.

“Maybe she liked the free food and orgasms too much to let them go.”

Hyunjin scowls. “You’re saying that’s the only reason she went out with me?” He feigns offense, shaking his head. “I hope Minho’s parents hate your guts.”

“Hyunjin!” You exclaim, watching as he bursts out laughing. “Don’t even joke about that. You know how nervous I am.”

“There’s no way they won’t like you,” He assures you, “You’re fucking amazing, not to mention their son loves you. That’s more than enough reason to love you too.”

You clutch the necklace in your hand, humming before turning on your heels to check your drawers for anything you might have missed. Hyunjin using the word love makes you a bit anxious, an unwelcome reminder that you still haven’t been able to overcome this stupid emotional blockage preventing you from telling Minho you love him. The first and only time you’d ever said you loved Minho was that evening at Hyunjin’s dorm, and it hadn’t even been directed at him. Without saying a word, you both understand the love that exists between you — it’s unspoken, but deeply felt — and you’re aware of that, but the fear that one day he’ll grow tired of waiting is painfully tangible inside your mind.

When Minho invited you to spend Christmas with his family, you hesitated at first. Meeting your ex-boyfriends’ families had never been so significant. You were a teenager at the time, the implications were different and the stakes didn’t seem as high. This time, it feels as if getting Minho’s parents to like you is indispensable. How will he go on dating a woman his parents deem unfit for him? Especially with how highly he speaks of his mother, you’re sure her opinion of you will weigh on his mind.

You can only hope they love you half as much as you love their son.

The car ride to Minho’s parents’ house was around half an hour.

Half an hour you spent picking at a loose thread on your skirt and overthinking so much your head ached by the time he parked the car. You hated how nervous you were, but Minho’s parents liking you was a non-negotiable. 

After insisting on carrying your own suitcase — just in case his parents might think you’re an overbearing girlfriend if they see Minho carrying your bag for you — the two of you walk up the stairs and into his home. The first thing you notice is how cozy-looking everything is; from the family pictures neatly placed on coffee tables and on the walls, cat furniture and toys mixed in with their actual furniture, down to the fuzzy blankets thrown over the couches.

The second thing that catches your attention is the quietude permeating throughout the house, as well as the fact that the first family member to greet you two is an orange cat.

“Oh, did you miss me this much?” Minho asks in a sweet, singsong voice, similar to how you would speak to a baby. He crouches down to pet the cat, who is now entangling himself between his legs. He introduces you by your name, because Soonie is truly just another family member to him. You chuckle, kneeling next to him and carefully extending your hand toward the orange ball of fur.

“Hello, Soonie,” you speak quietly, afraid you’ll spook him. He eyes you carefully before sniffing your fingers and, ultimately, rubbing his head on your hand. You sigh in relief, petting his fur with a smile.

Minho’s cats liking you was also a non-negotiable.

You place your suitcases in Minho’s childhood bedroom, his parents letting him know they will arrive a little late after going Christmas shopping. Looking around his small room, you smile at all the small things that scream Lee Minho. The pictures of him and his friends back in high school are the first thing you notice, glued to the wall in front of his door lopsided. His thick-rimmed glasses and bowl cut make you smile as you analyze one of the pictures, where he and four other boys hug and smile widely in a karaoke room. Then, of course, his extensive plushie collection sat against a wall to your left — all stacked on top of each other like a mountain — which he proudly shows off to you.

“Y’know, I had to basically fight a little girl at the Sanrio store for this one,” he says, a bit too smugly, while holding a plush of Kuromi dressed in a ladybug costume. “I was sixteen, though, so I think that excuses my behavior. I would never do that nowadays.”

You narrow your eyes, humming skeptically. “Sure you wouldn’t.”

Minho just chuckles, meticulously placing the doll back in its place beside the cherry on top of a rather large Pusheen pudding plushie.

“Oh! You have to see my books.” He takes your hand in his, dragging you toward the wall facing his bed. A bookshelf expanding from the floor to the ceiling makes your mouth drop. You hadn’t noticed it before, with it being hidden away in the corner of the room. The bookshelf is decorated with fairy lights — which Minho promptly switches on — and filled with beautiful books, from intricately designed hard covers to intricate sprayed edges, every single book in his collection has something special about it.

He uses a small metal ladder to reach the top of the shelves before handing you a book so thick your wrist almost bends upon grabbing it. It’s a collection of seven Jane Austen novels, all in a gorgeous blue and golden hardcover. You eye the book like it’s a precious jewel, carefully running your fingers over the details engraved on the cover. Beside you, Minho lets out a breathy laugh, stepping down from the ladder and bumping your shoulder lightly.

“You can open it,” he tells you, but you’re still too mesmerized by the book to look at him. “It’s what books are for, whether they’re pretty or not. You have to open it and read it, otherwise they lose their purpose.”

You nod slowly, but remain unmoving. Minho’s hand suddenly rests on top of yours, and he opens the book for you. The page is entirely annotated, with highlighters and thoughts jotted down on pencil in messy handwriting. Looking up at him, you are met by his smile.

“See? The book is fine, the world didn’t end. I have these special editions because I enjoy collecting pretty things, but I always read them,” he explains, “I like when books reflect the emotions I felt while reading them. I annotate, scribble, highlight — I once threw a special edition Stephen King book across the living room and into a wall. There’s an indentation on it till this day.”

You gasp. “Minho, what the fuck?”

He shrugs dismissively. “I know, I know. All book sins in the eyes of many people. But, like I said, that just reflects the emotions I felt while reading that book. I look through any of these pages and I know exactly what I felt at that time of my life.”

You nod, your lips absentmindedly curling into a smile. Minho truly is something else. You skim the page opened before you, reading some of his annotations and laughing quietly to yourself as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

As you close the book, he speaks again, “They’re a bit like people, aren’t they? Pretty and put-together on the outside, but once you really dig in, it’s all a mess and cluster of feelings and passion.”

 

You and Minho spend an hour lounging around the living room, with you meeting his other two cats during that time. Soonie and Doongie’s adoration toward Minho is clear, with both orange cats always rubbing against his leg or tangling themselves in his sneakers by the door as you two cuddle on the couch. Dori, however, remains laid on his cat tree, barely sparing the two of you a glance. Minho jokes that Dori hates him after he left his first mom, even showing you further proof in the form of a video where the gray cat bites his nose while he sleeps.

Upon hearing the key turn on the front door, your heart is quick to jump. Minho’s parents have arrived.

Sitting up on the couch, you gently push Minho away from you. He shoots you a questioning look.

“What? I don’t want them to think we were doing something indecent.”

“Indecent?” Minho repeats with a chuckle. “We were cuddling, not consummating a marriage on this couch.”

You grumble incoherent words under your breath, shrugging. “I know. I just want them to like me.”

“They were more than okay with seeing me cuddle my ex when I was a teen. We’re both adults, I’m pretty sure they won’t think you’re a filthy harlot.”

You gasp, hitting his chest and hissing through your teeth. “A harlot?”

Minho lets out a long, hearty laugh just as his parents walk through the door.

“Oh, there you are!” You hear his mother’s voice call out as soon as she steps inside the living room. You turn to face her and you’re greeted by the same smile you see on Minho’s face every day — they look so similar you have to hold back a gasp. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You stand up from the couch and smooth down your long skirt, smiling while she walks toward you. You’re caught off guard when she pulls you into a hug as soon as she’s in front of you, her arms squeezing you as she sighs happily into your hair.

“Mom,” Minho calls out, “You’re scaring her.”

His mom pulls away with a chuckle, her left hand pinching her son’s cheek before resting on your shoulder again. “He’s the one who’s scared I’ll embarrass him,” she refutes. “And, god, you’re so pretty! Minho told me you were beautiful, but I just assumed it was the infatuation speaking.”

You feel your cheeks flush at her words, biting back a smile. Minho had talked to his mother about you — had said you were beautiful. You swear if you died tonight, you would die a happy woman.

As his mother steps away from you and into the kitchen, rambling on about how crowded the shopping mall had been, a man comes into your field of vision. He nods courtly before extending his hand, which you shake a bit awkwardly.

“I’m Minho’s dad,” he simply says. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Minho has been very happy on the phone since meeting you.”

And with that, he’s off into the kitchen, following his wife. You’re left a bit dazed. Minho truly was a perfect blend of his mother’s appearance and his father’s calm personality. 

Beside you, Minho pulls you into a side hug, his chilly hands caressing your arms. “See? It’s impossible not to love you.”

You freeze for a moment, before relaxing as you realize he’s talking about his parents loving you. You curse yourself inwardly for being so damn emotionally constipated, but let out a sigh of relief nonetheless.

You were worried for so many different reasons — that you wouldn’t measure up to Minho’s first girlfriend, that your personality would be scrutinized until your flaws finally emerged, and that this would be the catalyst for Minho to realize you’re not worth it. Not worth waiting until you can tell him you love him, not worth waiting until you feel like sex isn’t going to just ruin everything between you, not worth the hassle and the chore that is loving someone like you.

But as he walks into the kitchen with you, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, like he’s proud to show you off to his parents, the level of reliability he radiates is enough to melt away all the annoying little worries you had inside your head.

Christmas eve comes two days later, and you’re rudely woken up in the morning by the sound of Minho’s voice cursing under his breath as he drops something on the floor by his bed. You groan, rubbing your eyes, and he turns to face you with an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry,” he whispers, kneeling down next to the bed and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight, I think.” His fingers brush your hair away from your face. “I didn’t set an alarm ‘cause I didn’t wanna wake you up, but guess my inability to be quiet did that anyway.”

You chuckle lightly, scrunching up your nose. “Why are you up so early?”

“Gotta start cooking dinner soon,” he explains.

“Already?” You ask, perplexed. You knew he cooked Christmas dinner all by himself every year for his family, but you never conceived just how much work that would be for a single person.

Minho is unyielding despite your best efforts at persuading him to stay and cuddle you for a few more hours, and watching him cook is always oddly attractive to you, so you find yourself joining him in the kitchen, wrapped up in one of his many cat print sweaters.

At first, you simply sit up at one of the counters and watch him, mesmerized and all but drooling at the way he rolls up his sleeves, the prominent veins making his arms look so sexy while doing such a mundane thing like chopping fucking vegetables. Not to mention his hands, so beautiful and big as he rubs the seasoning on something you don’t even care to identify because you’re just too busy thinking about those hands all over your body. Only now do you notice how no real sex for almost two months has really taken a toll on you, what with the way you have to cross your legs just to try and relieve some tension because your mind won’t stop thinking about Minho’s veiny arms caging you against this counter and his big hands—

Minho calls out your name, and you snap out of your fantasies, humming as you reluctantly turn your attention toward his face with a dazed expression. He seems to find it funny, as he chuckles before repeating himself, “I asked if you would like to help. I can teach you some of the easy stuff. Must be boring just sitting there and watching.”

Oh, but it isn’t boring at all.

But you’d never tell him that, so you nod before hopping off the counter and awaiting further instructions. Turns out you’re worse at cooking than you had thought, so you’re relegated to chopping duty, which you hate for two reasons — firstly, chopping vegetables is boring, and secondly, you’re now deprived of your view of Minho as you stand with your back turned to him while he cooks.

It’s around five p.m. when Minho’s mom joins you two in the kitchen, and by that time you’ve done all you could, so you’re back to your spot on the counter. She smiles at you before ruffling Minho’s hair as he closes the oven.

“My baby is such a wonderful cook, isn’t he?” she praises, and he shrugs with a smirk.

“I am very boyfriend material, aren’t I?”

You chuckle as you watch his mom carefully fixing his hair which she had messed up, Minho scrunching up his face as she then fixes his wire-frame glasses on his nose.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing your glasses again,” she comments, cupping his cheeks and squeezing before letting go. “You look so handsome.”

“You should thank her,” Minho smiles, turning to look at you, and you shoot him a puzzling look. “Remember on your birthday, when you told me I looked good wearing glasses?” He asks, and you nod slowly. “That’s why I stopped wearing contacts.”

Your mouth opens, but you can’t find the words to answer him. You can feel your cheeks dusting pink as his mom coos at the two of you, saying something about young love that has you gnawing on your lips to hold back the silly smile you want to let out.

Minho’s mom leaves the kitchen shortly after, his father calling her from the living room. He takes this as his chance to approach where you’re sitting, hands resting on your thighs before he presses his lips against yours.

“I wanted to look handsome for you. It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?” He chuckles against your lips, and you simply shake your head, tangling your fingers in his black hair that has now grown past his eyes.

“It’s actually fucking adorable,” you assure him, pulling him into another kiss, one much deeper than the last.

He quickly uses his hands to spread your thighs apart, pressing his body into yours as you wrap your legs around his waist. The effect this man has on you is mindboggling; the mere slide of his tongue against your lips has you shivering. It certainly doesn’t help that you are now in the exact position from your imagination earlier today.

Minho always tasted like your own personal favorite flavor, always deliciously swirling on your tongue whenever you kissed him. He always renders your mind fuzzy and silly as bliss consumes the entirety of your being. You can only imagine how sex with him will feel like, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your worries be damned. You needed him more than you could handle.

But just as Minho pulls you closer to his body — your core dangerously close to his crotch, and sucking on your tongue in a way that has you mewling against his lips — his mother calls out your names, and you two quickly separate, startled as if you were burned. She informs you his grandmother has arrived and you two walk to the living room to greet her. You silently thank the universe for her not walking into the kitchen; the last thing you want is for Minho’s poor grandmother to catch you two making out on the counter like two teenagers.

She is a sweet lady, certainly not as old as you expected her to be, and she always has a smile etched onto her lips stained with red lipstick. You don’t even have to ask to know she is his mother’s mom, as the three of them share the exact same smile you grew to love so much.

You find yourself even more comfortable today, as you help both women set up the table for dinner — his grandma meticulously placing a beautiful lace cloth over the table while telling you about how this was one of her late husband’s first gifts to her when they first moved in together. 

It felt as if you were part of the family.

And as you turn on your heels to grab the fancy silverware from a cabinet, your eyes meet Minho’s gaze. With a smile on his face, he stands by the kitchen door, watching you, and your heart swells with joy.

This was everything you never thought love could be.

Christmas dinner was amazing — as you knew it would be. Minho’s cooking is always fantastic, and pure happiness is written all over his face whenever he was complimented. The way he offers to serve everyone, watching intently as each of you took the first bite before he finally allowed himself to eat as well, his lips upturned into a grin and his ears red as you all hummed and gasped at how tasty everything was. It’s his love language; from the way he carefully and methodically prepares the food, to the way he enjoys watching other people eat more than eating himself. He shows his love through his cooking, you realize, and you smile as you think back to numerous times you woke up in the morning with a beautiful table set with breakfast for you after he spent the night at your house.

You haven’t put it into words yet, but he has unquestionably been showing his love for you through his little actions.

And that’s what you want to do tonight as well.

After watching a cliche Christmas movie with his family, you two are now the only ones awake with you drying off the dishes Minho’s washing. He looks beautiful even now, with his hands clad in neon green dishwashing gloves.

“Minho,” you call out, poking his rib with the plate he just handed you. He squirms with a giggle, warning you to not tickle him. You simply hum, continuing as nonchalantly as you can. “Do you wanna have sex tonight?”

His hand stills, dropping a knife on the sink as his head turns abruptly to look at you, eyes bewildered. “What? What, and you ask me this now? While we’re doing the dishes?” He sputters, and you grin with a shrug.

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, placing the plate on top of the counter. “I just… really wanna do it. Really want you.”

Minho turns off the tap — at least five knives left ignored at the bottom of the sink — removes his gloves and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, not what I expected to happen on Christmas night, but I’ll take it.”

You both stare at each other for a beat, before inexplicably bursting out laughing. Maybe it’s the sheer suddenness of your request, or the absurdity of the situation you were in when it happened, but you can’t help it.

As you both calm down, Minho pulls you into his arms and informs you that he will have to go out and buy condoms, since he truly wasn’t expecting anything to happen. You don’t fault him, the two months you’ve been together were filled with you all but running away from sex. You couldn’t help it, your brain always dragging you back to that night in Japan, and the way he avoided your gaze in the morning. Although you knew it was irrational, and that he was simply shy, your self-sabotaging skills were too great, and your mind insisted that if you had sex with Minho too soon he would think you were nothing but a slut. That’s what you were told most of your life, anyway, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your brain was almost conditioned into assuming the same.

But Minho had proved time and time again that he was not like the awful guys before him, and that all your worrying was unwarranted and foolish. You were depriving yourself of something you wanted badly out of sheer insecurity and attachment to experiences so far in the past it was almost masochistic at this point.

You insist on joining him on his impromptu trip to the convenience store, only throwing one of his sweaters over the dress and tights you wore for Christmas dinner.

Minho holds your hand as you two walk down the empty street, Christmas lights from the houses and stores making everything seem almost like a movie. You spot the familiar logo from across the street, and Minho bumps his shoulder with you while you head toward the convenience store chain where you both once worked.

“This is actually the exact one I used to work at,” He tells you as you look through a fridge hidden away in the back of the store. “I loved working the graveyard shift. I rang up so many couples awkwardly buying condoms like they were buying hard drugs.”

You chuckle, settling for some pudding you two could share later. “Will that be us tonight?”

He shrugs. “We’re adults, it’s normal to buy these things. Unless you want me to act like I’m buying crack cocaine, then I’d be happy to indulge you.”

You stick your tongue out at him with a light shove, turning to look through the rather lacking options on the condom shelf.

“Grape flavor?” Minho makes a face as he eyes one of the boxes. “Who the fuck would want the artificial taste of grapes when fucking?”

You shrug. “Could be worse, imagine banana-flavored condoms. I think I’d throw up all over your dick.”

“That’s sexy,” He jokes, and you let out a loud chuckle, earning you a look from the only other person at the store this time of night on Christmas eve.

Among your other options are a green glow-in-the-dark condom — which would only make you think of Shrek while Minho fucks you — and a strawberry-flavored one. You decide to play it safe, grabbing a box of plain, thin condoms and placing them in the basket Minho’s carrying.

“Let’s just go for the safest option,” you tell him, “We’ll have plenty of time to play around later if you want, though I’ll go on birth control once we’re back home so we won’t even need them anyway.”

You watch as Minho’s eyes widen for a second, his eyebrows shooting up almost comically.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Don’t short-circuit now. I need you functioning to fuck me.”

“Keep saying shit like that and I’ll be broken before we even make it back to my house,” he states matter-of-factly, and you chuckle, shaking your head at his words. But Minho’s expression remains unchanged. “I mean it. It’s been over a year since I’ve had proper sex. I’m surprised I didn’t combust the second you said those words to me in the kitchen.”

With a chuckle, you pull him to your side and walk toward the cashier. It’s a poor teenage boy, no older than eighteen, clearly bored out of his mind and wishing to be anywhere but here. As he rings up your items, Minho points to his phone that’s resting on the counter.

“That’s Ahri from League of Legends, right?” He asks, and the boy looks up, his eyes sparking with interest. He nods. “I don’t play, but I’m a game programmer, so I know a little bit about it. What’s your rank?”

“Grandmaster,” the boy answers proudly, his face lighting up with a hint of joy, probably for the first time since his shift started.

“Oohh,” Minho gasps loudly, basically hyping up this random boy at the convenience store. You watch the interaction with a silly smile on your face. “And you’re still young, wouldn’t be surprised to see you at World’s someday.”

The boy shakes his head dismissively as Minho hands him his card, but smiles nonetheless. Once he hands you your things, he speaks again, “Are you from around here, hyung? Let me know when you have a game out, I’d love to try it. See if you’re any good.”

Minho raises his brows at the obvious teasing lilt in his voice, lips upturning into a grin. “How about this? I’ll give you the beta code and you can start your career of testing games for money.”

“You’ll pay me?” The cashier marvels at the words, and Minho simply nods. He jots down a code from his phone into a scrap piece of paper on the counter, the boy’s face now a complete shift from the expression he wore when you first walked in, all because of Minho and his ability to be kind and sweet no matter the person or circumstance.

As you head back to his house, only the two of walk along the shy streets as the clock hands turn past midnight. Among all the bad people in this world, you’re indescribably happy that a man as good as him is the one walking beside you down this street, firmly holding your hand.

You arrive home and quietly head straight into Minho’s room. You thank any higher power that might exist for the fact that his room is the only one on the first floor, as you would have to endure your desperate need and desire for him until you got home if it wasn’t. Any of Minho’s family members walking in or hearing you two have sex would make you want to flee the country and change your name.

He joins you after storing your puddings in the fridge, making you jump with his arms wrapped around your waist while you were blankly staring at the pictures on his wall. You sigh, the realization of what was going to happen only really dawning on you now that you stand in Minho’s bedroom, and your mind starts to wander and doubt everything all over again.

“I kind of ruined the mood by asking to have sex, didn’t I?” You ask as Minho places a chaste kiss on your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“There was really no mood in the first place,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “We were washing the dishes.”

You roll your eyes, once again more annoyed at yourself than at him. You could only hope that your awful propensity of bringing up these irritating thoughts of yours at the worst possible moments didn’t drive Minho away from you. Could only hope you were worth it in the end.

“I know, it’s just…” You trail off with another heavy sigh. “This guy I dated hated that. Said I should just initiate it instead of asking like it was a business transaction.”

You feel Minho shake his head. “That’s stupid. Why would I think that?” He sounds incredulous, and hearing him say it makes you realize just how asinine that thought really was. “We had to buy condoms, anyway. It’s also good that you’re comfortable asking me that. It’s as it should be.”

And you can only smile, biting back a giggle because of course he thinks that. It’s as if Jane Austen came back from the dead simply to write Lee Minho.

His arms tighten around your waist, and you turn your head to look at him. “You should really stop thinking about… them,” He hesitates, “Your exes, I mean. Stop comparing, assuming everything will be the same and have the same sad ending. You need to let go of that in order to truly heal. I hate how every time I’m good to you, or do the bare fucking minimum, your mind spins it into something being your fault. I hate what they did to you so much.”

You feel your breath get caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill much like they do every time you are faced with this topic. But you hold them in. You don’t want to cry, not right now, not when everything is so perfect with Minho. So, instead, you take in his words. He’s undoubtedly right, and you must force yourself to face this uncomfortable truth.

Slowly, you promise yourself. You smile at him, a silent promise to him, and you know he understands you when he smiles back, his lips pressing a kiss to your lips.

He lets go of you and rummages through his drawers, and you look around once more. His plushie mountain, the pictures of his childhood and high school days. You scrunch up your nose.

“Will it be too weird to have sex in your childhood bedroom?”

From where you’re standing, his back turned to you, you can faintly make out the tip of his ears turning red as he runs a finger through his hair.

“Well, not really…” He trails off, “I had sex with my ex-girlfriend here all the time when we skipped school together.”

You let out a gasp. “Lee Minho skipped school?”

He chuckles, closing his drawers and immediately wrapping his arms around you. He’s a lot more touchy since you brought this whole topic up, you notice.

“My parents were always at work, though, so this is my first time doing it while they’re right upstairs,” He explains, bringing his finger up to your lips and lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “So we’ll have to be quiet.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, nodding. You know all too well you’ll probably be too quiet. Once again your trauma playing a part in this, the words an old boyfriend harshly spilled about you being too loud and vocal have always been present in your head. Now that you think about it, all these moments and words are like post-it notes stuck to your mind, and you skim through like a student cramming for an exam every day in search of one that applies to your current situation. It was excruciating.

Hyunjin tried his best to change this about you, always assuring you he liked to hear you during sex when he noticed your pursed and bitten lips, and that you should be vocal about what you want and like. But you always settled for nods and quiet hums instead.

Minho presses a quick kiss on your forehead then. “I’m gonna shower ‘cause my hands still smell like onions and garlic after washing them a thousand times,” he tells you. “I’ll be right back.”

As you’re busying yourself looking through Minho’s extensive collection of books, a meow pulls your attention toward the door. It’s Dori, the gray cat you’ve decided is your favorite since it’s the only one you can easily recognize. He stares for a beat before approaching you, and you kneel carefully to stroke his soft fur. You soon find yourself sitting down by the bed with Dori on your lap, purring away as your mind travels to a future in which you and Minho adopt cats of your own, all while living together and making plans for the rest of your lives. It terrifies you slightly to allow yourself to have these thoughts because if things were to go wrong with Minho, this would only be another ‘what if’ that would haunt you.

Another post-it note to your already cluttered-up mind.

But his words from earlier come back to you just as you begin to panic. You have to let go of the past and stop assuming only the worst outcomes are attainable. And so you simply smile at the imagination, letting your mind run wild while Dori falls asleep on your lap, his gray fur all over your red dress.

You and Dori both jump as Minho all but slams the door when he returns, a towel in his hand drying his damp hair. He cringes at the sound, cursing under his breath. Dori leaves your lap, and you stand up with a pout. He definitely is your favorite cat among the three.

“Sorry,” Minho whispers, as if that will compensate for the loud noise. You take in his appearance; a green Christmas sweater and bright red sweatpants. You bite back a smile, because that’s so him.

“Your outfit is doing a great job of seducing me,” you jest, and he shrugs with a cocky grin.

“I know no woman can resist a Christmas sweater.”

He pulls you into him with a hand around your waist, his lips crashing into yours in a deep kiss. You notice he’s more frantic, less careful than he usually is, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as his hands slide up your back. He pulls away, breathless and flushed, and just looks at you for a moment. You can see the shift in his eyes, yearning swimming all over his brown orbs.

Clumsily, he shuts off the lights behind him then switches on the fairy lights adorning his bookshelf, his left hand still firmly clutching your body. Until it suddenly loosens, and you cock your head to the side.

“Okay, you gotta leave,” he says, and you follow his gaze, landing on Dori, who stares up at him almost defiantly. Minho lets out a sigh, opening his door before walking toward the cat and motioning toward the exit as if he will understand him. “Come on, I’ll give you treats later, hm? But you need to leave now, Dori.”

You fail to hold back a chuckle. “Why does the poor baby have to leave? He looks so comfortable snuggled up on the floor.”

“I can’t have sex while Dori watches,” he deadpans as if it were an obvious answer. “It’ll be weird.”

“Minho, it’s a cat. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s still weird! And I…” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. He’s still facing the door when he blurts out, “I told you, I’m already really fucking nervous ‘cause it’s been a while since I’ve had sex. I might not be the best.”

You shake your head with a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “Minho, that’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is!” He finally turns to face you. “Remember back in Japan? I came too fast, it was embarrassing. That’s why I never let you touch me.”

You jokingly pout at him. “Thought you just liked eating me out.”

“I fucking love eating you out, but I’m not exactly refusing that you do the same because I want to,” he explains, “I’m just scared I’ll be bad at it.”

You furrow your brows. “Bad at… getting a blowjob?”

Minho’s ears are dusted a light pink, and he throws his hands up. “Well, yes! Back in Japan I didn’t even know what to do with my hands. I don’t know what you like, and I haven’t been with anyone else to know what most people like so…” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck, I was so nervous that night, you have no idea.”

“You were nervous?” You let out a huff, recalling Minho’s clear shift in demeanor that night. “Looking into my eyes the entire time and pinning me down to the bed, that’s you being nervous?”

His entire face now flushes red, and he returns his gaze toward the door, where Dori paddles out of the room graciously. He promptly shuts the door, locking it this time.

“I was nervous,” He tells you, taking a step toward you. “I kept looking at you ‘cause I couldn’t believe that was actually happening. Felt like you were gonna disappear if I looked away,” His hands cup your face gently, and your lips unknowingly curl into a smile. “And when you looked at me in the morning, all I could think about was how awful I was the night before.”

You have to fight the strong urge to laugh because god, that’s why he was acting shy and avoiding your gaze. You berate yourself for even thinking otherwise, for ever assuming Minho could be like your ex-boyfriends. His words ring even more true than before.

You let out a groan, realizing you two have been putting off having sex for such mindless reasons. When he shoots you a questioning gaze, you simply say, “Minho, we’re both fucking idiots, d’you know that?”

And before he can say anything else or even entertain the idea of overthinking any more, you pull him into a kiss. With a surprised hum, Minho gently pushes you back, and your knees meet the softness of the mattress causing you to fall back into his bed. He climbs on top of you, pulling away from the kiss.

“You still gotta tell me what you like,” he repeats, his lips all but pouting at you. You smile up at him.

“No,” you say simply, pushing his hair back with your fingers as it fell into his eyes. “It’s better if we figure that out together, isn’t it?”

Minho chuckles, promptly pressing his lips to yours, your hand tugging at his hair gently as his tongue glides across your lips, causing a soft whine to slip from your throat before you can stop it.

“I like that,” he says between kisses, “When you make these pretty noises.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words and take that as your chance to take the first small step in healing, adding a post-it to your mind, reminding you not to suppress any noise that Minho coaxes out of you tonight.

The atmosphere in his room feels perfect — like heaven, as he would say. The soft yellow glow emanating from his bookshelf made everything seem dreamy; his honey skin looked stunning, and his eyes gleamed like the stars in the sky every time they met yours.

It was undoubtedly so much more intimate and passionate than any other time you had sex before, and you were both still fully clothed.

It was just like what Minho had told you many months ago.

His hands travel through your body until they rest on your back, finding the buttons of your dress, slowly opening each one as his lips trail down your neck, softly sucking on the skin. As he gingerly slides your dress down your torso, you realize that this will be the first time you two see each other naked. Yet, you don’t feel nervous. You want nothing more than to be close to him, with no barriers between you, to finally be tangled with him like the roots on the ground.

Minho unclasps your bra, his gaze unmoving from your chest as he slips the garment off of your skin and drops it on the floor. It’s almost as if you can feel his gaze burning you, your chest tightening and your breath hitching in your throat. He licks his lips, leaning down to wrap them around your nipple, his hand promptly finding your other breast and softly massaging it. You let out a choked gasp, tugging at his hair.

You feel his lips stretch into a smile before he softly bites the bud.

“So you like this,” He mumbles, pressing a wet kiss to your nipple. “Duly noted.”

You giggle at his words, your hands tangling in his hair once more. His kisses travel up again, from your chest to your neck, until he’s back to kissing your lips. Both of his hands now massage your breasts, alternating between rolling your nipples between his rough fingers and pinching them lightly, causing a rush to spread across your entire body. You feel your arousal trickle down your slit as you grow more desperate.

“Minho,” you call out between kisses, and he hums against your lips. “Do something,” you all but beg him, yearning for some release as you feel the small, unrelenting pulse between your thighs grow stronger with each stroke of his finger across your chest. Your hands now grasp at his sweater, tugging it over his head, the fabric also discarded somewhere on the floor of his room.

Your hands travel over the expanse of his chest, fingertips taking in every inch of his soft skin. Breaking away from his lips, you push him back softly so you can revel in the sight of him; his delicate collar bones, his strong arms, and soft stomach. He’s beautiful, breathtakingly so, and you don’t know what you did to be deserving of him.

“Enjoying the view?” He jokes, and you breathe out a laugh, your gaze flying up toward his face — his lips swollen, and his cheeks flushed a pretty red.

“Minho, you’re so beautiful,” you whisper absentmindedly, and he smiles at you, softly pressing his lips to yours.

“You should see how you look,” he whispers.

His left hand soon slips underneath your dress skirt, fingertips grazing your skin over your tights. You feel goosebumps trickle along your thighs following his every touch, so eager to feel his hands on your skin you’re sure you’ll rip your tights in half yourself if Minho doesn’t get rid of them soon.

He seems to grow as impatient as you, lifting your hips with a strong grip to slide down your dress, tights, and panties off of you all in one go. In no time, you are now laid bare before him, and Minho is swift to trail kisses down your stomach, sloppy and messy, painting your skin with his saliva as his mouth waters at the mere prospect of tasting you.

With a heavy sigh, he stares at your glistening wetness before promptly wrapping his lips around your clit without a warning and sucking, ardently, vulgar sounds filling his small room much like they do every time he eats you out. Always messy, always eager, humming against your pussy and sighing as his eyes glaze over with pure want.

You squirm like lighting has shocked through your entire body. No matter how often you experience the satisfaction of Minho’s lips on you, it always leaves you trembling like it’s the first time. His right hand slides up the expanse of your stomach until it reaches your breast again, his thumb lazily circling your nipple. You purse your lips as his fingers tentatively trail across your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before lapping at it slowly, the small bud swollen and aching.

You’re quick to remember to open your mouth, letting out the heavy sigh that had stuck to your throat as his finger enters you, Minho still licking and sucking your sensitive clit, nipping harshly and making your sigh fade into a whine. Hand tangling in his hair and tugging, you elicit a low groan from his throat, which you feel reverberate through your slick folds.

Your thighs shake as he adds a second finger, and soon a third, thrusting them inside of you and stroking your walls more vigorously than he usually does, as if he somehow also feels your pleasure and needs to lead you to your high as quickly as possible.

Minho’s hand leaves your chest, and you bite back a pout, his fingers now gripping your hips before pushing them up so he can reach deeper. It isn’t long before his fingers drag across the spot inside of you that has your muscles tensing up, a strangled moan falling from your lips at the sensations coupled with the unrelenting feeling of his tongue on your clit. You come undone around his fingers and lips with a harsh tug of his black hair, rutting your hips against his face desperately, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as you do.

He laps up your juices as you slowly come down from your high, tongue flicking inside of you and sucking hard before he presses a long kiss to your cunt. Your entire body jerks in response to the overstimulation.

His kisses travel toward your inner thigh, your lower stomach and breasts until he reaches your neck, where his teeth nip at the soft skin, sucking harshly before his tongue soothingly licks at the spot. As Minho positions himself between your thighs again, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind goes hazy for a beat as you feel the thick outline of his cock press against your bare core.

“Minho,” you call out again, your voice significantly more whiny this time around, shaky and breathless, “Wanna taste you.”

He groans against your skin, pressing small kisses up your neck until he ultimately stops against your open lips. He breathes out a heavy sigh.

“Really want that, too,” he rasps out, voice hoarse as his dark eyes travel across your face. “But I really wanna fuck you. Shit, I need to fuck you so badly you have no idea,” He groans. You feel his length jump at his words as he presses your foreheads together and locks his gaze with you. “That’ll be hard to do if your pretty lips go anywhere near my cock.”

You breathe out a chuckle, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “Then get to it,” you simply say.

Minho’s lips curl into a grin. “Will you remember to be quiet for me this time? My baby sounded so pretty coming around my fingers.”

Your cheeks flush, just how loud you were before only now dawning on you. Fuck. Your words get stuck to your throat, your mouth opening but making no sound, so you settle for a nod.

He chuckles. “Good,” he replies with a kiss to your agape lips.

Minho sits up, detangling himself from your body briefly. He reaches for the box on his bedside table, scrambling with the cardboard before clumsily tearing it open and retrieving a condom. It’s only then you notice how his hands are trembling, from nervousness or pure lust. Either way, you find yourself smiling at the sight.

You reach out to run a hand along his arm soothingly, watching with hungry eyes as he tugs at his drawstrings before freeing his cock from the confines of his sweatpants. Minho hisses as he rolls the rubber over his length, shaky hands stroking himself one, two, three times, all while you eye him, watching greedily as if you were his own personal captive audience.

He lowers himself once again, hand now sliding across the length of your thigh before gripping the flesh, nails digging into your skin as he eyes you with an almost pleading gaze.

“Can I—”

“Please do,” you answer, almost frantically, before he even has the time to assume you might say no. You inch your thighs apart even more so Minho can slot himself perfectly between them.

Your mouth waters as you catch sight of him gripping his cock once more, tapping it against your swollen clit and eliciting a whine from your lips as your hands scramble to find purchase in his strong arms. Minho’s eyes then find yours much like they did back in Japan, and you know you are done for. His dark gaze once again felt all-consuming — desire and adoration swimming along his brown eyes, looking at you as if he were in a daze. Your grip on his arms tightens as he lazily slides his cock up and down your soaked slit, coating himself in your arousal. Minho’s lips fall open as he continues his movements, the blunt head of his cock gliding along your folds almost painfully slow.

He leans in to close the small gap between your lips, before whispering something you can’t quite understand against them.

“I fucking love you,” he repeats himself more clearly, and finally pushes forward, his girth pushing into you as you gasp, feeling as if all the air has been stolen from you.

You aren’t sure if your reaction is due to his words, or the way his cock is working you open so good, or maybe it was a delicious blend of the two. All you know at the moment is Minho, Minho, Minho, your mind foggy as his name rings inside your head like a mantra.

“Don’t gotta say anything back,” he tells you in a breathy voice, “Just want you to know I love— Fuck,” he groans as he is now fully sheathed inside of you, and you clench at both the feeling and the words spilling from his lips. Of course he would choose now to tell you he loved you. “Love you so much, so much I’d do anything for you. Would wage a war with the world if you asked me to…” He babbles, words slipping past his lips like they were the easiest thing for him to say. Like he meant it so deeply, he didn’t have to put any thought into it. His words only die as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

Minho pulls his hips back in one swift motion, hands lifting your thighs around his body as he thrusts into you, evoking a rather loud noise from the back of your throat which is smothered by his kiss.

“You take me so well,” he growls against your lips, “We fit perfectly.” He breaks the kiss to look down at where your two bodies are connected. It felt as if you were one, melting into each other little by little the more Minho thrust his cock inside of you. You simply nod, mind even more dizzy with the way he’s already pulling out again before slamming back into you, his pace quickening as he presses you into the mattress.

Your nails dig into his skin, crescent moon shapes blooming over the expanse of his honey skin. His eyes still bore into you, hips now thrusting at an unrelenting pace, his small room filled with a cacophony of wet sounds, whines tumbling from your parted lips and curses that almost silently fell from his.

“Gonna come soon,” Minho chokes out, his eyebrows furrowing, “I’m sorry, I—”

You silence him with a press of your lips, hands now tangling in his messy hair.

“You’re always so good to me,” you tell him, feeling his cock pulse inside of your walls. “Wanna be good to you too, make you feel good.”

And he simply leans down before kissing you reverently. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with the creaking of his bed likely much too loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At least not at the moment. Not with the way his hand snakes along your hips, rough fingers now rolling delicious circles around your clit while his other palm presses down onto your abdomen, and his cock continuously hits a spot inside of you that has you all but crumbling apart underneath him.

Your mouth falls open, breaking the kiss, his cock twitching inside of you as his body stills on top of you. With furrowed brows and agape lips, Minho comes mere seconds before you reach your high as well, toes curling against his back as you melt onto his cock.

You stay that way for a while — a few seconds, maybe minutes — simply looking at each other as your labored breaths intertwine.

You finally reach up, brushing his dampened hair away from his beautiful eyes that now look at you as if you were the sole reason why the stars sparkle. Minho’s fingers soon find yours, tangling together as he brings your hands to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

You smile.

You love him.

It’s not a realization but rather a confirmation of something you’ve already known all too well and for far too long. You still can’t put it into words, but somehow, you are certain that he knows just as well.

Minho accidentally awoke you in the morning with his habit of slamming his door shut, apologizing as you grumbled at him and insisted you would only accept his apology if he let you give him a blowjob. He laughed, simply pulling you closer to him on the bed as he sat up and you finally gave the most beautiful man you had ever met the head he deserved.

Minho’s parents and grandmother had left to eat at a fancy restaurant, and after lying through his teeth and telling his very distraught mother that you were feeling too sick to leave the bed, you two stayed behind. They didn’t have to know the real reason you couldn’t leave the bed — Minho and his apparent insatiable hunger for you. It was as if something had been awoken inside him now that he had a taste of you, and he had to make up for all the lost time.

You two only leave his room late in the afternoon, the sun setting on the pale winter sky outside his bedroom window. His family would arrive soon, and you needed to get ready for their tradition of opening Christmas presents while watching bad holiday movies.

When Minho followed you when you headed toward the bathroom, you thought little of it. It was only when he began undressing alongside you that panic truly set in.

“We literally had sex, why do you sound so horrified?” Was all he offered you when you asked what he was doing before entering the steamy shower with you.

It was your first time showering with someone, and the fact that it made you so nervous felt almost pathetic. Minho was right; you had sex, and you saw each other naked and sweaty and vulnerable. This shouldn’t be any different.

Except it was.

You found yourself too awkward to wash yourself, doing a terrible job at pretending to scrub at your arms as you watched Minho shower like a normal person. He let out a chuckle after rinsing his hair, shaking his head.

“Are you seriously shy? Seriously?” He asked, turning your body around so your back faced him. “The girl who begged to suck my cock just this morning is too shy to shower in front of me?”

You opened your lips to refute him, but your words died in your mouth as you felt Minho’s hand spread shampoo all over your hair. His fingers gently massaged your scalp before placing his hand over your eyes to shield them from the foam as he rinsed your hair. He repeated the process with conditioner, then moved on to wash your body with his almost sickly sweet watermelon body wash. He did it all while humming, making you so relaxed and comfortable that all your silly insecurities dissipated in the air along with the steam from the hot water.

Suffice to say, showering without Minho would now be a sad affair.

You are now sitting on the floor before the television, his family exchanging gifts. Dori purred on your lap, and Soonie bit Minho’s socks, trying his best to remove the fabric from his feet. It’s finally time for you two to exchange gifts, and you’re a bit glad his family seemed to be so immersed in the movie because you know you would combust if you had to explain your gift to them.

“Here,” you hand him an orange box with a black bow. “It’s stupid. Now that I think about it, it’s probably such a fucking dumb gift. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and Eunha even made one for her sister. I almost stole hers ‘cause it turned out much better than mine—”

“My god,” Minho interrupts you with a hearty laugh, taking the box in his hands and inspecting it. “It’s been a while since you word vomited so much. What the hell did you get me that made you so nervous?”

He pulls on the bow, unraveling it before taking the black fabric in his hands and tying it around your head. He laughs once more, and you roll your eyes.

“Minho, just get to it before I snatch this box from you.”

With one last chuckle, he finally opens the box. He stills as he takes in the notebook, sitting on top of far too much wrapping tissue paper. The cat print cardstock paper was a pain to find, but it’s worth it now as you watch Minho’s lips curl into a smile as his fingers gingerly travel through the cover. It was crooked, a bit too small, and still reeked of bookbinding glue, but it reminds you of the day you met Minho, and that was all you thought about when you decided on this gift.

“You fucking bound me a notebook,” he says, still bewildered.

“Took me a while, but I did say I was gonna do it. I’m a woman of my word.”

Minho looks up at you, his smile reaching his eyes and turning them into the pretty crescent moons you love so much. “I love it,” he beams, hands now squeezing your cheeks as he pulls you into a small kiss. “This and that coffee stained notebook are going on my bookshelf back in my dorm, displayed in all their glory.”

Minho pulls away and reaches toward two small boxes on the coffee table. He clears his throat, handing you one box as he settles the other on his lap.

“I thought of you when I saw this on my Instagram feed,” he simply says, fingers toying with the misshaped bow on top of the box — one very similar to the one on your birthday gift many months ago. “Thought about what we talked about in Japan, y’know, about soulmates.”

You raise a brow at him, quickly undoing the bow on your box as curiosity washes over you. You pick up a bracelet made only of red thread, eyeing it curiously.

Minho retrieves the same bracelet from his own box, putting it on before asking, “Have you heard of the red string of fate?”

“That myth that a thread connects two people meant to be together?” You question.

He nods. “Exactly. I feel like that was us,” He explains, taking the red bracelet from your hands and slipping it around your wrist before gently tightening the thread. “Feel like all our little coincidences were little threads tying us together until we met.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes, but you don’t bother trying to hide or stop them this time. Grabbing Minho’s hand that stilled around your wrist, you lace your fingers together, admiring your matching bracelets. It could only be fate. Every small detail that aligned and every road you two crossed to reach the place where you are now could only have come to be because fate wanted it to be that way.

Out of every city you could have lived in, every different university you could have chosen to attend, down to every other seat that could have been empty on the day you met Minho — everything fell into place like a puzzle piece, exactly as if a long, invisible string tied you to him and finally decided it was time to pull you together.

Minho’s gentle touch brushes against your cheek as he silently wipes your tears — no words are needed between you two at that moment as he smiles softly at you while you feel your eyes burn from the cry you had held back for so long. And, as if you’re his mirror, you feel yourself smile as his lips upturn into a grin when his gaze shifts to the open window.

“It’s snowing,” he beams. “It’s the first snow of the year, and our first snow together.”

 

You stand in front of Minho’s house, the light snow falling softly and covering your heads in white as he kisses you, only stopping to grumble against your lips.

“Your phone’s going crazy in my pocket,” He pouts, and you furrow your brows. You had already sent your family holiday messages, and your friends were all busy with their own Christmas celebrations, so you were clueless about who it could be.

“Can you check it for me?”

Minho nods, untangling himself from your embrace just enough to reach into his pocket and grab your phone to unlock it.

“There’s like fifty new messages from a group chat. Best Fucking Five?” He chuckles lightly at the name, his chilly breath tickling your cheek.

You, on the other hand, immediately frowned as you heard the name. It’s a long-forgotten group chat with your old friend group from high school. You had all stopped talking a little before graduation, with you especially distancing yourself from them upon realizing their toxic words and reactions to your relationships only served to make you feel worse about yourself. No one bothered to leave or delete the group since it quietly died and had stayed that way for over three years now.

Minho hands you the phone, and you click another notification that pops up as soon as you unlock the device.

The conversation began with your former friend sending a screenshot of one of your ex-boyfriend’s newest Instagram post. You skim through the caption and blanch at the words accompanied by a sonogram picture. His girlfriend is pregnant, and he’s over the moon about it.

And you, for some reason, find yourself laughing so much you have to clutch onto Minho’s shoulder as your stomach starts to hurt.

He shoots you an understandably puzzled look, but you can’t stop the giggles that spill from your lips, so you settle on showing him the screenshot. 

“I got the best Christmas gift tonight,” Minho reads from the screen. “I'm going to be a dad, and the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known is the mother,” he trails off with a questioning lilt, brows furrowing as that had only confused him more.

“It’s one of my exes,” you manage to tell him after catching your breath.

Minho hums, taking your hands and shoving them in his overcoat pocket along with your phone.

“And why did that make you lose your mind laughing?” He asks with a small smile.

“I guess it was the shock, really. It also made me realize just how little I care about him now. All of them, actually. Every time I was broken up with or had my heart broken in some way, it honestly felt like the end of the world,” you explain, “Like my heart would never recover and like I would hate them for the rest of my life. For years I had such a strong ax to grind with them, and that hatred and grudge only caused me harm. It made me hate love, and it made me blame myself.”

Minho nods, pressing his forehead to yours. Around you two, the snow got thicker, and only the distant sounds of children laughing from neighboring houses could be heard throughout the quiet street.

“But it’s different now?”

You smile up at him. “It’s different now, and I only just realized that. These people are no longer people I hate. They’re simply their words and their actions toward me, but they, as people, mean nothing to me.”

Minho smiles and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. This realization makes you feel lighter, like a small part of the weight of healing has been removed from the equation. It’s only you and yourself now; none of them has any power over your emotions anymore.

“Maybe we should send the baby a present,” you joke, and Minho buries his head in the crook of your neck with a chuckle, and you jump as his cold nose brushes against your skin.

“Maybe we should.”

At that moment, in the arms of this amazing man who has helped you more than he will ever know, you realize that love truly isn’t bad. People can be bad, circumstances can be catastrophic, and wrong timing can destroy nearly everything. But love is, at the core of it all, good.

“Minho,” you call out, feeling him hum against your skin before lifting his head to look at you. “I love you,” you say simply.

His smile rivals every pretty thing around you. The first snow, the gleaming Christmas decorations, and even the moon herself pale in comparison to the smile that Minho gives you.

“I love you, too,” he replies, a tangible sense of bliss in his voice, as if he has yearned for a lifetime to finally be able to say those words to you.

You wrap your arms tighter around Minho, and your fingers brush against the red thread that adorns your wrist. It truly feels as if fate had led you to Minho, leaving little clues along the way to make sure you both knew when you finally met. His journey to you had been relatively easy, while yours had been heart-wrenching, but in the end, it had brought you heaven.

If soulmates really are a thing, there is not an ounce of doubt in your being that Minho is yours. More than anything, he taught you that love is present in everything around you. Love is being kind to others like Minho is kind to his family and strangers in convenience stores at midnight. Love is staying up with your best friend while she cries on the couch, not expecting anything in return. Love is the laughter of little kids on Christmas night echoing throughout a neighborhood. Love is also going out on your own, doing something simply because it will make you happy, and being kind to yourself. All this time, you held onto the belief that love is destructive and only leads to sadness, oblivious to the fact that it has surrounded you every step of the way.

Love is everywhere and in everything.

In the end, Minho had always been right.

Love is the most amazing thing in life.

♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1, @malunar28replies, @jazziwritesthings, @finchyyy, @bloom-ings, @linocz, @minhochaos, @lastgreatamericandynasty1, @missminhoe, @jungkookies1002, @meanergreener

[keruimi]

Your Dream

Pairing: Obanai Iguro x reader

Warnings: Mention of Sexual Abuse, Death, Total Angst

Note: It has a similar plot with my other Obanai Oneshot but why do I feel like this hurts more? Anyways, I am back to writing Kny especially when it's angst. And yes, it's Obanai Iguro again, my favorite character. The only reason I wrote this is because of the Obamitsu Angst in my fyp like stop reminding me, it really hurts. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it because I don't want to suffer alone.

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It was a normal life I live, working as an average kakushi who is mostly assigned in the kitchen.

When an odd request from Oyakata-sama changes my routine. When he assigned me to deliver meals to the new pillar, the Snake Hashira, Obanai Iguro.

At the age of eighteen, I finally experienced the anger of a Hashira with just my presence.

Knowing I was silent my whole life, I never found the reason why the Hashira glared at me on our first meeting.

I can't even count how many meals have been ignored or thrown whenever I deliver it to him.

Feeding the Snake Hashira became part of my routine that I completely memorize the route of his manor since he doesn't want anyone to be with him.

"Y/n, please take care of Obanai Iguro's health for me"

Those are the words I hold onto as I tolerated the cold treatment of the Hashira.

I lost track of the times I stay outside the freezing cold when he doesn't want to open his door for me.

It became more torturing when my heart suddenly beat faster when he started treating me differently after a year.

When he finally started to accept the food I cooked and delivered to his manor. Even if he can't finish it, I am thankful that it wouldn't become a waste anymore.

I knew our simple interaction progressed more when he allowed me to come closer to his space. Even a job that I shouldn't be doing, I'm doing it for him.

Like cleaning his manor, grinding ink for him, and helping him sort different poetry he has written.

Those simple moments introduce me to the new side of him that I slowly fell in love with.

It made me want to try harder until the walls he built around him completely fall down.

Until he can finally open his heart to me.

But that friendship I tried to stabilize, brick by brick, became nothing when he met her in the Ubuyashiki mansion.

My effort is almost nothing with how easy she manages to make him soften to her.

And I started to look for the reasons why.

The friendship I tried so hard to build is ruined and I felt like I went back to the first time we met.

The cautious aura that made it difficult for me to connect to him.

And I knew those thoughts are really happening when the food I brought is left untouched.

"I have already eaten with Mitsuri"

It was the sentence I kept hearing but I didn't stop doing my duty of making his food for him.

Because I learned to love taking care of him.

Those tasty delicacies I used to love cooking, change when I noticed he was disgusted just by the smell of it.

I adjusted so many things that I completely forgot what I really love.

Just to serve him right.

I prevent the cough that is threatening to leave my mouth as I grind ink for the Hashira I am serving.

As he wrote the letter he always sent to her.

It was breaking me. But I have no right to feel anything for him.

I already knew ever since, that a high-ranking warrior like him is not meant to love me.

But the weak side of me silently yearn that he can return it.

But seeing how in love he is with another woman. I knew I never had a place in his heart.

But just a mere presence that accompanies him in the garden.

I was just a shadow he would never notice. A person that serves him, and he would not change his perspective on me.

I was beside him so I could serve him, not to love him.

I wipe the single tear and escape my eyes before he notices as I force my body to move according to what he wishes.

While he remained clueless of my emotion that I tried so hard to get rid of.

The emotion that broke my heart when I saw the ring in his room while I was cleaning.

I could never look at the mirror just to see how my eyes portrayed the pain I felt when I saw it.

"Obanai-san really liked Mitsuri, don't you?" I mustered up the courage to speak my thoughts with a slight teasing tone as my back faced him.

I bit my lip to stop the sob that is threatening to be heard as I heard shuffling behind me.

"Obanai-san must treat Mitsuri-san right. Marriage is a dream for every woman. Especially when they will have a good man to love" I turned to him with a smile as I slowly opened my eyes and saw how soft his eyes turned because of embarrassment.

I don't know his past. I don't know what he loves.

I don't know Obanai Iguro.

But I know he has a hard time trusting others.

"I hope you both live a happy life" I managed to let out but it came out as a whisper as I took my things and left the room.

I froze the moment I left his manor as the tears I managed to subside finally escaped my eyes as I found myself crying on the way back to the village I live in.

I knew it was coming but my heart won't stop aching. My eyes can't stop crying. My mouth can't stop sobbing.

I really love him.

But he is not mine.

~•°•~

I lost track of the years when the female kakushi started to serve me.

The only woman I allow to enter my manor with the excuse of serving me.

Because I thought of changing myself even a little no matter how much I feel fear or disgusted by a female approaching me.

Because she gave effort to providing me with the most comfortable thing I needed. Especially during my meal time.

Starting with a simple window being opened, creating less flavorful food that I can tolerate.

I knew she was adjusting for me so I let her presence in my everyday life. Until that became like a friendship I was thankful for.

I can talk to someone about things without including battles.

I love her like a family.

That explained how my body felt frozen when I heard the news of what happened to her on the way to my manor.

The news of her being taken advantage of by a man who manages to memorize her route to my manor due to her everyday routine of walking her way there.

The anger I felt was unexplainable that I can find myself hurting a fellow human.

I knew humans can be evil, but I didn't know I could hate them more than I hate demons.

But I thought I made a mistake too.

If I just let her stay in my manor so she wouldn't exert too much energy just for my food, I could protect her better.

I know I'm slowly losing control when my self-restraint almost fell apart when I visited her quarters and I found her silently sitting at the corner of her room, hugging her knees.

As the spark in her eyes completely vanishes.

"She refused to eat nor let another woman near her. When the others approach her, she flinches. We don't know how to approach her anymore" the Kakushi who led me to her room stuttered out as I felt my hand grip the wooden door in anger.

Yet my eyes badly wanted to cry for her.

"Shinobu tried to check on her but she started to cry whether she was near. We just confirm the situation when the evidence of the sexual abuse was present in her body when we found her unconscious in the forest"

"Stop talking" I snap at him who immediately keeps his mouth shut as my snake hiss at him who scurried away.

"Y/n, it's me" I knocked on the door even though it was already open to make her aware of my presence in the room.

I don't know how I control my voice who I thought will be expressed in a trembled tone.

I am a man.

That is the first thought that came to my mind that made me decide to sit at the floor near the door.

"Obanai Iguro, you know me, right?" I spoke again and she kept her silence making my hands tighten its hold on my pants.

I'm not used to this side of her.

"Are you scared of me?" I asked slowly as silence occupied the entire room before she shook her head a little.

"May I come closer?"

With that question, I notice how her hands tighten on the blanket surrounding her making me release a shaky breath.

I never knew I was willing to hurt a fellow human just for her.

It made me want to make the man suffer badly. Worse than what he did to her.

"I'm sorry" I was left speechless when those were left on her lips and I immediately shook my head.

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. It was them that wronged you" I am not good at words but I wanted to completely express my concern and pain for her.

I badly wanted to avenge her.

"It was me who should apologize because I was not there for you"

"I am not your responsibility..." She whispered and I shook my head once again, wishing for her to look at me even once so she can see how badly I am hurt for what she has experience.

How desperate I am to show she was not alone during this time.

"You are. Because you are important to me" I felt tears in my eyes as Kaburamaru slithered his way to her and slowly circled around her shoulder in a protective manner.

"I am tainted..."

"You're not" I firmly stated. "I am the tainted one between the two of us" those words quickly left my lips without any hesitations and she finally had the courage to look in my direction.

"So don't look at yourself that way. For me, you are still the same Y/n that accompanied me" I stuttered out as I tried to stabilize my breathing.

"I will seek justice for you. That's a promise"

I saw how a tear left her eyes as she looked outside the window. Removing her gaze on me.

"In our generation, marriage is every woman's dreams. Is a symbol of acceptance. Is where you will really feel you are loved and chosen by someone" she whispered.

"But in order to be chosen, you need to be pure, compliant, and well-mannered. That's what it takes to be a good wife" she stated as Kaburamaru nuzzled his head on her cheek when he noticed her difficulty in breathing.

I badly want to lend her my shoulder to lean on, an advice to make her mind clear. But in this situation, we both knew she just needed an ear to listen to her.

Someone to comfort her with just presence.

"But if you don't meet those requirements, you will be shunned by society. You will lose the qualification that a wife has."

"Right now, I will not be the wife of someone. I will not be married to a man I will dedicate my life to. Because I don't have my purity that only my husband should have." She whispered.

It was a painful word to state out loud. But right now, I can't read her.

Because she completely closed off her emotions.

"I don't fit the standard that a wife should have." She whispered as she buried herself in her blanket that hid herself from me.

"And it hurted so badly"

I closed my eyes when she spoke those words.

And I hate myself because I can't do anything for her but just torture her attacker.

"What else is your dream other than marriage?" I ask her as she closes her eyes to rest it for a little while.

"I want to meet the one that is willing to spend their entire life with me" it was a hopeful wish.

Silence occupy the room and I thought she fall asleep until she whispered the words I never expected to hear from her.

"I love you..." It was barely heard but I knew it was the words she hide for so long.

That made it known to me that I could grant that dream to her.

But I decide to give her the time she needs to heal from that painful experience.

She needs to heal.

Those are the thoughts I could only think of as I laid her down in her bed in a more comfortable position when I noticed she had finally fallen asleep.

But I never expected that it would be the last time I would see her with her eyes open.

Because when I came back the next day, the news of her death was the one that greeted me.

It was a nocturnal death because her heart failed during her sleep.

It finally felt like my whole world collapsed and my mind completely shut down.

If it weren't for Sanemi being beside me, I would have completely fallen on the floor as I kneel in front of her room.

It hurts.

I wanted it to stop.

But I know that nothing could make her happy anymore.

Because that nightmare would continue living within her for the rest of her life.

I never manage to cherish her smiles more. I only shrugged the moments I have with her because I thought we would stay that way.

That I never knew I was running out of time.

It took every cell in my body to approach her cold body that is covered with white cloth as I kneeled beside her.

I silently slid the ring that she found on my mansion in her finger as tears continued escaping from my eyes as Sanemi just stood behind me.

I lost someone who made me feel like I have the family I never have.

In this life, we were parted to heal.

But I will make sure that her wish will be granted.

"In this life" I started to whisper as my lips lean on her fingers where the ring stays.

"As God as my witness, I promise to take you as my bride. Give myself as your other half" I keep mumbling as I squeeze her cold hand as tears continue to fall from my eyes.

"That even death can never separate us. Because in our next life, I'll make sure, that I will utter this words to you again"

And in that life, you will be alive to hear it

[ohdeerfully]

Hello, could I request Alastor romantic relationship headcanons with a female half angel/half human reader? Please and thank you.

My Devotion

Alastor x Half Angel!Reader (headcanons) TW: None? join my discord!

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it took this man quite a while to warm up to you to even be friends, honestly

while Alastor had many enemies, angels were a totally different type of enemy to him

even if you were only partially an angel

when he was summoned to the living plane because of some foolish mortal getting a little too bold at a drinking party...

something was tugging at him

like a force needing him to go somewhere. urgently.

so, naturally, he followed

he couldn't really explain, even to himself, what was telling him to go

maybe his knack for finding and causing himself entertainment and mischief?

curious he was, then, when he approached a seemingly ordinary human, relaxed against a tree in a shaded, grassy spot some ways from the typical path

you noticed him before he had a chance to decide whether or not to announce himself

surprisingly you didn't seem off put by his incredibly demonic appearance

you even seemed to have an expression of recognition?

interested was probably the better word

there was something off about you

maybe it was that higher-than-life aura that seemed to radiate from you

or the way light seemed to reflect off of you brighter than natural

you closed the gap between the two of you first, hands on hips and eyeing him up and down

"i didnt know your kind was allowed up here"

"things happen" why did you seem so normal about seeing a demon?

"i would know" you had laughed in response. which he found odd

you were, simply put, odd

you intrigued him terribly, and he found himself returning to the same spot quite often to see you

since getting summoned to Earth, it just so happened that it enabled him to travel back and forth between it and Hell, though it was exhausting

color him surprised when he arrived one day to find you massaging a pair of angelic wings

they were small compared to the standard angel, and you only sported one pair, but he knew right away what you were when he saw them

there was a brief period of time after this that he stopped showing up. and honestly? you couldn't blame him

he was a sinner. a demon. and you were an angel (half, but still)

but the odd tugging at his heart, and some foreign sense of longing, drug him back to see you again

"i guess you would know," he said after sneaking up on you. you were reading some novel

he berated himself for not noticing earlier. the way your skin, your hair, your eyes... all seemed to just glow with a heavenly sheen

honestly he chalked it up to the lighting

he didn't trust you now. not one bit. but he still came

you seemed genuinely surprised to see him again, and he hated how bright your smile seemed

once your meetings fell back into a regular rhythm, alastor strangely found himself looking forward to seeing you

you probably fell for him first. and suffered for quite some time, yearning for his affection

you were just as confused as he was towards the emotions you both unknowingly shared

alastor eventually started bringing you tokens of affection. small, but noticeably thoughtful things, like a bud of your favorite flower or some interesting food he brought from Hell

you were always curious to try things from there

you knew your wings would probably be torn from your back if any of the higher powers found out you were being courted by an overlord of all things

alastor knew this too

this didn't stop either of you

"my devotion to you is breaking the rules of reality" alastor proclaimed to you, after months and months of a slowly building relationship

and you knew he was devoted. like, he would never admit it, but he practically began worshipping you

considering he had never felt emotions like this before, it seems only natural for him to become obsessed with the one that makes him feel so strongly

he became more comfortable with seeing your wings over time, though there was still this sick feeling that plagued his stomach whenever he was near. probably just a natural demonic instinct to feel when near a holy being

he enjoys lightly petting the feathers, picking out anything that may have gotten caught in the intricate formation of your wings

alastor battles daily with himself, cursing himself for putting your entire being in danger, but also being selfish enough to continue seeing you

oh, how he wanted to corrupt you

to see those beautiful white wings of yours drip red

[03jyh23]

— whispers of forever || kim hongjoong  

true love isn't about finding someone perfect, but finding someone who perfectly complements your imperfections

idol!hongjoong x reader

genre: fluff

trigger warnings: none! contains elements of anticipation, excitement, and romantic gestures.

words: 3.1 k

reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.

minors do not interact

— hi there! thank you @etherealtyjaem for requesting this prompt, i absolutely adore this one and i hope you will like it too! i'm a bit nervous because my imagination got carried away in the ending, but i hope you'll like it!

love, monika. ♡

On a breathtaking late spring night, you and Hongjoong found yourselves in your garden, nestled on a newly bought outdoor sofa. As the clock neared midnight, a blanket of stars adorned the night sky, casting a celestial glow over you and Hongjoong. Your boyfriend holds you tenderly against his chest, arms encircling your waist with a gentle embrace. Your fingers intertwine on your stomach, while his head finds solace in the comforting curve of your neck. His breath, a gentle caress against your skin, elicits a soft smile from your lips. In the sanctuary of Hongjoong’s embrace, you find a haven of safety and warmth. No words are needed as you bask in the serenity of the moment, content in the simple pleasure of being together. After a week of spending every night in the studio, Hongjoong finally earned a precious few days off. Eager to make up for his absence, he expressed his desire to whisk you away on a small trip overseas. However, mindful of his packed schedule with the release of a new album and an upcoming tour, you simply longed for him to stay with you in the comfort of your shared home.  

By now, you had grown accustomed to the rhythm of being on your own, immersing yourself in work and errands while Hongjoong poured his heart and soul into his music. Despite the familiarity of the separation, you couldn't shake the longing for him to be beside you, especially at night. As much as you tried to fill the void with distractions, sleep remained elusive without his comforting presence nearby. The emptiness of your bed served as a constant reminder of his absence, leaving you yearning for the warmth of his embrace. The knowledge that instead of catching a few hours of sleep, your boyfriend stayed up all night working only compounded the difficulty of falling asleep. While you tossed and turned, grappling with the insistent pull of exhaustion, your mind couldn't help but wander to him—imagining him immersed in his creative process, pouring his passion into every note and lyric. Each failed attempt at sleep served as a silent testament to the sacrifice and dedication he poured into his craft, leaving you torn between admiration and longing for his presence by your side. 

 As you delicately turn your head to admire the beauty of your boyfriend, you meet Hongjoong's eyes. shimmering with affection, and a smile graces his lips. 

"You are so handsome," you whisper into his ear, your breath warm against his skin. You placed a tender kiss on his cheek. "How did I get so lucky?" you murmur softly, the words tinged with wonder and gratitude. As you gaze at Hongjoong, a flood of memories and emotions wash over you, reminding you of all the moments you two shared. Hongjoong’s smile was your favorite, nothing compared to it, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the beauty of his smile. 

"Well... I think you must have saved the world in your previous life," he said jokingly, before leaning in to connect your lips in a brief, affectionate kiss. You playfully hit his arm, a mock scowl forming on your lips.  

"You were supposed to tell me you're the lucky one here!" you teased, your playful pout betraying the amusement dancing in your eyes. Hongjoong kissed you once again, his lips brushing against yours tenderly.  

"My bad," he said with a grin. "I'm so, so lucky to have the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world!" he joked, his eyes twinkling with affection. 

"That's better," you replied with a smile, your fingers tracing small circles on his hands. The silence enveloped you once more. In the quiet moments shared together, there was an unspoken understanding—an intimacy that transcended words. "How's work? Did you manage to finish the lyrics you told me about earlier?" you inquired; your voice filled with genuine interest. 

"Well, it was one hell of a ride. I think I haven't slept for two nights just to finish that one song, but I don't think Mingi is happy with the outcome," Hongjoong admitted, a hint of weariness creeping into his voice.  

"How come?" 

"I think he has a different vision for the song," Hongjoong explained, a touch of frustration evident in his tone. "We had some creative differences, and it's been a bit of a challenge finding common ground. But we'll work it out. It's all part of the process." After Hongjoong's explanation, you listened attentively, understanding the challenges that come with creative collaboration. With a reassuring smile, you gently squeeze his hand, offering your support and encouragement. 

"Hey, you're incredibly talented, and I know you'll find a way to make it work," you said, your voice filled with confidence in him. "You've overcome obstacles before, and this is no different. I believe in you, and I'm here for you every step of the way." Hongjoong smiled gratefully at your words, the warmth of your support easing the weight of his concerns. 

"Thank you, baby," he said softly, his eyes reflecting appreciation. "It's just... while working on this album, I've had a lot of different thoughts and emotions." you reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.  

"I understand," you murmured, your voice filled with empathy. "Creative processes can be overwhelming sometimes, but remember, you're not alone in this." Hongjoong's voice was a gentle whisper, laden with vulnerability as he confessed,  

"To be honest, before I met you, I thought I had everything I ever wanted." His gaze was shy, unable to meet yours, 

"Why the sudden confession?" you asked, taken aback by the unexpected words. 

"I’ve been thinking about it for a while now" Hongjoong admitted, his breath shaky, voice tinged with sincerity. "I had my members, fans, and money eventually came too." A soft chuckle escaped his lips before he added, "But then I met you, and it's like... my life wasn't whole before." The weight of his words hung in the air, carrying the depth of his emotions as he dared to bare his soul to you. "Aside from the success and the love from fans, there was always a void I couldn't quite fill. Meeting you changed everything. Suddenly, I found myself longing for more than just superficial achievements. Your presence brought a warmth to my heart that I didn't know was missing. With you, it's like I've discovered a new dimension of happiness and purpose. I never want to let that go." As Hongjoong's heartfelt confession washed over you, you were left speechless, overwhelmed by his emotions. While you may struggle with finding the right words to express yourself, Hongjoong has always possessed a gift for articulating his feelings. Hongjoong's way with words always amazed you, especially in such moments. His ability to express love and warmth made you feel grateful for him.  

"I will never let you let me go, so don’t worry." Hongjoong's eyes soften with love as he hears your heartfelt declaration, a sense of warmth spreading through him. “I love you” Hongjoong's breath catches, his eyes locking with yours in a tender moment. 

"I love you too," he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and affection. "More than words can express."  

"Do you ever think about the future?" Hongjoong's gaze softens as he considers your question, his mind drifting to the possibilities ahead. 

"After I met you, yeah I do, all the time," he admits, his voice tinged with both excitement and uncertainty, "I used to believe that ATEEZ was the only future I wanted, to be honest, my teenage self never wanted anything else than to live off music, as it was the only thing that mattered.” His eyes, usually focused and determined, now carried a hint of vulnerability. "When I first set out on this journey with ATEEZ, music was my whole world. It consumed me in the best way possible. But meeting you has shown me that life is much richer and more complex than I ever imagined. Now, I see a future where music is still a vital part of who I am, but it's no longer the only thing defining me." Feeling Hongjoong's embrace grow tighter, you're drawn closer to his chest, the warmth of his touch enveloping. His hand cups your cheek tenderly, his touch gentle yet firm, as he draws you in for a kiss. In that moment, the world fades away, leaving only the two of you. As you pull away from the kiss, a smile plays on your lips, your eyes reflecting the warmth of the moment. 

"I'm glad I can be that source of comfort and trust for you," you say, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "To know that I can bring you peace and happiness means everything to me. We're in this together, supporting each other through thick and thin, and I wouldn't have it any other way." Hongjoong smiled softly, his heart swelling with gratitude for your understanding and acceptance. 

"I don't think I ever told you that but as the leader I always am the one responsible," Hongjoong continued, his tone carrying a mix of pride and vulnerability "Don’t get me wrong, being a leader is something I take a lot of pride in, but I was always scared to admit to my mistakes or to tell the guys about my true feelings. But with you, I'm learning to open up. You've taught me that your love embraces my imperfections, rather than overlooking them," Hongjoong expressed gratefully, his words resonate deeply, revealing the weight of responsibility he carries as a leader. 

"It's okay to feel that way," you reassure him, your voice a gentle reminder of the support he finds in you. "Being a leader comes with its own set of challenges and expectations, but you don't have to bear them alone. I'm here to listen, to support you, and to remind you that it's okay to be human—to make mistakes, to express doubts, and to share your true feelings. Your vulnerability is what makes you real, and it's a beautiful part of who you are. I love you for all of it, imperfections and all.'' You lean in and peck his lips, your hands gently resting on his cheek. You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes filled with gratitude and unshed tears. His grip on you tightens as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible, breaking slightly under the weight of his emotions. His breath tickles your hair as he leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a moment of tranquility. "I don't know what I'd do without you," you can feel his heartbeat against your back, steady and comforting. His vulnerability in this moment only makes you love him more. You understand the pressure he's under, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders, and you want nothing more than to share that load with him. You run your fingers gently through his hair, offering him a comforting smile.

"You'll never have to find out," you assure him, your words a soft promise in the quiet space. You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent promise of your unwavering support and love. ''Tell me, when thinking about the future do you see it together with me and ATEEZ?" Hongjoong's gaze softens as he considers your question, his thoughts drifting to the future. 

"I do," he responds with a smile, his voice filled with conviction. "I see a future where we continue to support each other's dreams, where our love only gets stronger. And whatever challenges come our way we will face them together. As long as we're together, I know we can overcome anything. I believe in us, our love, and the bright future that awaits us." In the moment after Hongjoong's heartfelt confession, you're overcome with a rush of emotions—love, gratitude, and a fierce longing to express your feelings in return. Without hesitation, you turn around and place yourself on top of his lap, then you lean in, pulling Hongjoong by his neck.

"Hongjoong," you whisper against his lips, "I love you. I see that future too, and I want nothing more than to face it with you." Your lips meet in a passionate kiss that ignites a fire between you. The world fades away as you lose yourself in the moment, your heart beating in sync with his. Each touch, each caress, is a testament to the depth of your love. As you finally pull away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you meet Hongjoong's gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. In that shared glance, you find reassurance, knowing that your love is as boundless as the stars above and that together, you can conquer anything that comes your way. "I need to tell you something," you announce, your voice tinged with nerves. "I can't shake this feeling that as ATEEZ continues to grow, I might end up being a distraction." Hongjoong's eyes soften with understanding as he listens to your confession, a gentle smile playing on his lips. 

"You could never be a distraction," he assures you, his hands gently caressing your back, his voice filled with sincerity. "You're my rock and my greatest source of inspiration. ATEEZ may be reaching new heights, but you'll always be an integral part of my life, my muse, and my greatest ally. You're my partner, my equal, and my greatest love, not a distraction." A sense of relief washes over you as you hear those words. 

"I really needed to hear that," you admitted, feeling a weightlifting off your shoulders. Sometimes, you find yourself overwhelmed by Hongjoong's popularity, knowing that his career should be his number one priority. Hearing his understanding and support meant everything to you. 

“Speaking of the future... where should I propose?” Hongjoong's playful tone brings a smile to your face as you entertain the idea, the thought of your future together filling you with warmth. 

"Hmm, let me think," you reply, playing along with his jest. "Well, since we both love adventure and exploring new places, how about somewhere that holds special meaning for us?" you suggest. "Maybe a secluded spot in the mountains where we can watch the sunset?" 

“Please don’t make me climb a mountain before asking the question” You join in his laughter, the playful exchange bringing a sense of lightness to the moment. 

"Fair enough," you chuckle. "How about we keep it simple then? A cozy spot with a beautiful view and a lot less hiking involved? As long as we’re together, it'll be perfect." your words are met with a nod and a smile from Hongjoong. 

''Well... we are together now and the view is beautiful.'' Hongjoong's suggestive tone catches you off guard, but a rush of excitement courses through you at the prospect of taking this step together, here and now. ''So... what about now?''  

"Now?" you repeat, feeling your heart race with anticipation. He nods, a playful glint in his eyes as he takes your hand. 

"Why not?" he responds, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "Life's too short to wait for the perfect moment. Let's make this moment ours." With a quickening heartbeat, you take a deep breath and nod, feeling the weight of the moment settling around you. Hongjoong released you from his embrace, a sudden sense of excitement sparking in his eyes as he dashed into the house. Your heart raced with anticipation. Could he really be doing what you thought he was? You sprang up from the sofa, nerves, and excitement mingling in your chest. Hastily, you glanced at yourself in the window, adjusting your hair with trembling fingers, making sure everything was just right. Just as you finished, Hongjoong returned, a small pink box clutched in his hand. Your heart skips a beat, anticipation coursing through your veins. You meet his gaze, feeling a rush of emotions swirling within you. Hongjoong approaches you slowly, and then he kneels before you. Your breath catches as his eyes lock with yours, filled with love and determination. 

“I can’t believe we are really doing this right now” you whispered, eyes full of tears, heart pounding in your chest. Hongjoong's eyes shimmer with emotion as he takes in your tear-filled gaze, his heart swelling with love and anticipation. 

"Neither can I," he whispers back, his voice thick with emotion. "But I know in my heart that this is right. That you're the one I want to share my life with, through every joy and every challenge." With trembling hands, he opens the box, revealing a ring that sparkles in the soft light. "I love you more than words can say," he continues, his voice steady with conviction. "And I promise to cherish and protect you for the rest of my days. Let's spend our lives together, side by side. Y/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and become my wife?" the question leaves you breathless. As you kneel beside Hongjoong, a wave of joy and relief washes over him, his eyes sparkling with happiness. 

"Well, since you asked so nicely, I guess I can make an exception and marry you." Hongjoong's eyes widen in mock disbelief before a wide smile spreads across his face as he takes your hand in his, his fingers trembling slightly with emotion.  

"Really?" Hongjoong asks, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and joy. You nod, a tear escaping your eye as you try to contain your overwhelming emotions.

"Yes, really," you confirm, "I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you." With a tender smile, Hongjoong brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your skin.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and gratitude. "To have you by my side, to share this journey with you—it's a dream come true." With trembling hands, he slips the ring onto your finger, sealing your promise with a tender kiss. "Forever and always," he whispers, his voice full of love.  

"And I'm the luckiest woman in the world," you whisper back, your voice filled with emotion. With tears of joy shimmering in your eyes, you lean in to press your lips against his, savoring the sweet taste of his love and the promise of a future filled with endless possibilities.

[its-avalon-08]

cracks in my armor (mw6)

(this is one of my favorite ever requests, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this. thank u sm <3)

the air in the red bull cooldown room thrummed with a tension thicker than the celebratory champagne showers outside. y/n, still strapped into her helmet, glared daggers at mark webber across the room. the brazilian grand prix had delivered a 1-2 finish for red bull, y/n taking a dominant first with mark trailing a frustrated second.

jenson button, the ever-diplomatic test and reserve driver, attempted to lighten the mood. "well, that was quite a show out there, folks! didn't think the paint would stay on those cars after all that battling." mark grunted, not looking up from his phone. y/n slammed her helmet on the table, the force making jenson flinch. "show?" she spat. "more like a fight with a toddler throwing a tantrum because he's leaving his favorite toy behind."

mark's head snapped up, his blue eyes blazing with a flicker of something y/n couldn't decipher. "easy there, sunshine. don't get ahead of yourself. this isn't about you." y/n's jaw clenched. "isn't it? you couldn't stand being outshone again, could you? that's why you're quitting. ego bruised beyond repair by a little competition."

"oh, spare me the dramatics," mark countered, his voice tight. "it's not about ego. it's about moving on." "moving on to what?" y/n pressed, a tremor in her voice betraying a vulnerability she tried to hide. "because it sure as hell isn't another team." a beat of tense silence hung in the air. jenson, sweat beading on his forehead, cleared his throat. "maybe we should, uh, give them some space, guys?" he cast a helpless look at the camera crew, who were dutifully capturing every barb.

y/n ignored him, her gaze locked on mark. "what is it, mark? why the sudden change of heart? you always said formula one was your life." mark looked away, his jaw clenched. "things change," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "not that much," y/n insisted, her voice cracking slightly. "unless there's something else you're not telling me." the accusation hung heavy in the air.

mark finally met her gaze, his blue eyes swirling with a storm of emotions. "there's plenty i'm not telling you," he said roughly, his voice laced with a hidden pain. "but it has nothing to do with you."


y/n scoffed, but the spark of defiance seemed to falter. "convenient. of course the mighty fucking australian can't deal with answering a simple questions. now why did i expect any differently?" she said with a snide tone. "leave me alone y/l/n. honest to god before i say something i'll regret" he mumbled, turning away. "oh fuck no. you don't get to act like we haven't been fighting for the same oppurtinty, like i haven't suffered the same pain of competion," she yelled. 


"YOU will NEVER understand the pain of yearning and fighting for something that will never truly be yours. no matter how hard you fucking try," mark shouted infuriated. silence descended once more, heavy and suffocating. the air crackled with unspoken words and a tension that went far beyond competition. jenson shifted uncomfortably, the weight of their unspoken feelings pressing down on him.

just then, the door to the room burst open, revealing christian horner, the red bull team principal, with a thunderous expression on his face. even the seasoned jenson flinched at the icy aura. the room fell silent, the weight of horner's presence pressing down on them. horner took a long look at the scene, taking in the red-faced drivers, the overturned chair, and the cameras filming the entire debacle. a slow, humorless smile spread across his face. "well," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "this is certainly one way to make headlines."

y/n and mark both looked away, shame flickering across their faces. the victory that had tasted so sweet just moments ago was now a bitter pill. the weight of their actions, captured for the world to see, settled heavily upon them. the cooldown room, once a place of celebration, now echoed with the deafening silence of a fractured team and something left unsaid.

the celebratory party in the red bull hospitality suite throbbed with a forced energy. y/n stood by the window, the cityscape of são paulo a glittering blur against the ache in her heart. every shared laugh, every raised champagne flute felt like a mockery of the raw emotions that had ripped through the cooldown room earlier.

finally, she couldn't take it anymore. with a deep breath, she excused herself and made her way down the hall, stopping at mark's designated suite. it took a moment to gather her courage, knuckles rapping tentatively against the door. silence. she rapped again, this time a little firmer. the door creaked open, revealing a weary mark, surprise flickering in his blue eyes.

"y/n?" he rasped, his voice raw. "can i come in?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. he stepped aside, and y/n entered, the door clicking shut behind her. the air crackled with tension, a stark contrast to the cheerful music filtering in from the party down the hall.

mark gestured to the couch, but y/n remained standing. "what did you mean?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart. mark's gaze dropped to his hands. "i..." he stammered, his voice thick with emotion. "i shouldn't have said that. it wasn't about the race." y/n pressed on, her voice gaining strength. "then what was it about, mark?" he looked up at her then, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that stole her breath. "it was about..." he hesitated, then blurted out, "it was about you."

the words hung heavy in the air. y/n's mind reeled. "me?" she whispered, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

mark took a step closer, his voice a low rumble. "for years, y/n. i've..." he stopped, his jaw clenched. "you've what?" she prompted, her voice barely audible. "i've had feelings for you," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion. "but i never thought i'd deserve someone like you. so talented, so beautiful, so damn brilliant." his voice cracked. "you were always out of reach."

y/n's breath caught in her throat. the truth, raw and unexpected, hit her like a wave. all this time, the constant bickering, the simmering tension, it wasn't just competition. it was a poorly disguised dance around unspoken feelings. "mark," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "i never thought..." "don't," he interrupted, his hand reaching out to gently cup her face. "it doesn't matter now. i'm leaving."

the reminder of his departure sent a fresh wave of pain through her. "but what if..." she trailed off, her gaze locked on his. he searched her eyes, a flicker of hope battling the resignation in his gaze. "what if what?" "what if i feel the same way?" she confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "maybe i didn't understand before, but i do now. i..." she faltered, then whispered, "i think i'm in love with you too, mark."

the weight of her confession hung in the air for a beat, then a slow smile spread across mark's face. it was a smile filled with relief, disbelief, and a joy that mirrored her own. before either of them could speak further, the gap between them closed. the kiss was slow, hesitant at first, then deepening as emotions they'd kept bottled up for so long came bursting forth. it was a kiss filled with longing, with unspoken apologies, and with the promise of a future they could now dare to dream of. when they finally broke apart, breathless and shaky, a new understanding shone in their eyes. the race, the fight, the angry outburst – it all paled in comparison to the truth they had finally confessed.

suddenly, a muffled thump came from the window ledge, followed by a low hiss. y/n and mark whipped around, startled. "what was that?" y/n whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs. mark cautiously approached the window, his hand instinctively reaching for something that wasn't there. he peered out, then his eyes widened comically.

"oh my god," he breathed. y/n joined him, peering out the window. there, sprawled on the small balcony outside, were jenson button and fernando alonso, their faces contorted in a mixture of relief, amusement, and mild discomfort.

"busted!" jenson groaned, throwing his hands up in defeat. fernando, ever the pragmatist, simply rolled his eyes. "took you long enough, you two." y/n and mark stared at them, speechless for a moment. then, y/n burst into laughter, a genuine, joyful sound that echoed through the room. mark, the blush creeping up his neck, joined in, the tension melting away.

"you were spying on us?" y/n exclaimed, wiping a tear from her eye.

jenson sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "well, not exactly spying. we just... happened to be enjoying the view and, uh, things escalated a bit." fernando snorted. "don't listen to him, he tripped over a potted plant and dragged me down with him." y/n and mark exchanged a look, then burst into laughter again. the awkwardness was gone, replaced by a shared sense of camaraderie. "well, congratulations you two," jenson said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. " fucking finally!"

"about bloody time," fernando echoed, raising a nonexistent glass in a toast.

y/n and mark grinned at each other, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted. as the sounds of the party drifted in from down the hall, a new kind of celebration bloomed – not just for their newfound love, but for the hilarious, unexpected way their friends had discovered it. the night, once filled with tension, now promised laughter, love, and a future brighter than any trophy.

[presidentlokis-hornyhelmet]

Loki x wife!Reader Headcanons [throughout the MCU]

Thor1 Loki: He's so soft soft baby TM and caring and always so sweet to you, in private or in public. Love is overflowing! Always kissing you and spoiling you. Not handsy but is always hand holding, or wraps arm around your waist. 2x Verbal Admiration than when he courted you. Favorite thing in the world is your blush and your laugh. You make him melt and he worships the ground you walk on. Gifts, LOTS of gifts. 

"i don't deserve you, y/n."  "If You don't deserve me, no one else does." 

💕How is the love-making?: Soft and Full of emotion! Worships your body; worships You. He'll make you understand why it's called love-making. Frequent eye contact because he loves getting lost in your eyes. Asgard who? (Odin has to forbid you from seeing Loki at work hours because it distracts him😂)

Avengers1 Loki: won't even look you in the eye, ignores your presence like his heritage. When you do manage to get a word with him, he'll Loki-talk you (i.e. vague words with ambiguous meanings that can be interpreted any way) into thinking he's been cheating on you (LIES). Not even a decent answer. Refuses to give you anything but his ire. 

"You still think me a lovesick puppy, girl?"  "My husband is a God who's just deeply devoted to his wife! Who are you and what have you done to him!?"  "Tut tut, my darling Lorelei -oh wait, that's not Your name." *smirks evilly and vanishes* 

💕Um.. love-making..?: most probably not, he's busy being Villain TM. But if you do manage to, he'll end up leaving you unsatisfied or humiliated, tossing you away like a rag doll -anything to make you think he's a bad guy (He's not. But you have to, otherwise The Other might hurt you too.)

TDW Loki: he'd still keep up the A1 facade and if you still want him, he'll be mean and act borderline disrespectful, claiming it's your duty as his wife. But in reality, he only wants to hurt you because spending the rest of his life locked up will be easier with you hating him. Looks at you longingly from his cell with an inexplicable sadness in his eyes, but will aboslutely deny it. 

"I know you wouldn't invade Midgard simply for power. I know you are above that, Loki."  "It is 'my Prince' to you. And, I'd rather you stick to your duties as just my wife." 

💕Smut?: Sure, if you hide it from Odin's knowledge. Lots of degradation, though. You can see the apology on his face, feel the desperation on his touch and hear the veiled sadness is his piercing words. His body language is begging you to stay, yearning for you and hoping you'd understand. Once it's over, he won't even look at your eyes knowing if he does, he can't be mean to you. What hurts him should make him stronger. 

TR Loki: After he shockingly discovered his mysterious survival, he ran back to the palace in search of you. But got to Odin first and.. y'know. He's successfully avoided any romance with you thanks to his disguise, but yearning is on the double when he sees the depth of your devotion. 

"All-Father, I wish to petition a statue on my... late husband's behalf. Of him, of what he's done for Asgard."  "He's a traitor and a convict."  "Who gave his life in atonement. It was a misguided atte-"  "Misguided!? Is that what you call acting against the Hlidskjalf? He invaded Midgard and took innocent lives!"  "And paid for it with his own. I beg your reconsideration, All-Father."  *After a long, scrutinizing pause* "The council will decide." "T-thank you, All-Father."  *Loki as Odin looks at you bow and retreat, sadness in his eyes* 'Oh, my love, how do you still love me after all I've done to you?' 

After evading death by planetary destruction and back in the Statesman hale, healthy and alive, he makes up for earlier. You refuse to accept, still feeling bitter, but Loki has his ways ;) 

💕How so? 👀: As I said, making up. For dayyyys. Lots of apologizing, lots of begging and even the occasional spanking. Many, many rounds even. Thor is quite concerned. Wait, why is Loki carrying you everywhere, can't you wal- OH. 

IW Loki: If you thought you knew how much he loves you (in Thor1), oh baby, you're about to be proven wrong. F*cking killed Thanos in, like, 2 seconds max. All it took was Big Ugly Grape-head to see you and give a creepy smile, the next minute he's lying headless on the ground, his army dissipating into dust. 

"The tesseract or yo-" *gets decapitated by Loki* 

❓And the love-making?: .... uh, doubtful.. Thor is busy choking your husband about why the f*ck he didn't say anything of having the tesseract. (Seriously, Thor, how else did you think he survived a planetary level destruction!? *exasperated sigh*) 

And you lived happily ever after <3 

The end. 💚

[komoboko]

𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

ft: kokushibo Tsugikuni, douma hashibira, akaza soyama, demon!reader

I’ll probably make a pt 2 for the rest of the demons + the clones ! Banner by @mmadeinheavenn

# kokushibo ! ☆

KOKUSHIBO takes time to learn he adores you, he starts off with simple admiration. He attempts to convince himself he's just inspired by your talents, your strengths and your skills. He'll even attempt to train or spar with you as his body hopes to get close it you but his mind tries to deny it.

Surprisingly, Kokushibo can be the most self aware about his feelings, once he finally brushes off the denial stage he actually understand how he feels about you. He's been in love during his years as a human, he thinks he knows how to go about this.

Kokushibo is a very traditional man, his skills and knowledge of love are centuries old but he will still go about it the same way he does as a human. He'll watch from afar seeming to get to know you in silence before going after you face to face. He starts off as some sort of admirer of some sort, gifting you roses in secret seems to be his favorite tactic.

Once he's able to approach you face to face, he'll put up an act per say. Trying to get you to like his presence claiming Muzan wants him to train you, in reality he just wants to be close to you. Take in your presence until he finds the comfort into charming and courting you into adoring him as well.

# douma ! ☆

Poor people who are apart cult, because DOUMA is insufferable when he falls in love. While you can’t directly blame the demon as he never experienced such emotions. Even so, he annoys one to many people around him.

Douma ask one too many questions once he finally begins to feel something. His questions are oddly specific and he spits so many out like rapid fire. Some people may not even understand what he's trying to explain, as his descriptions are so abnormal. Don't be mad, he just has so many questions! He needs to know how he feels! He needs to know how he feels for you!!

"Is it normal to feel like the phrase where a certain insect is in your stomach?" or "What do i do when my cheeks rise above the 32 degrees Fahrenheit and become a shade of pink" once he saw a couple in his cult kiss and had bugged them with so many questions.. "what did you both just do with each other? Why do I yearn to do that with name as well?

he clings onto much more then he would originally. He complain once you have to go do missions and will try to accompany you no matter what. the only time you will get some peace is if muzan calls upon one of you. Even then he'll whine having to depart from each other even if its only for a couple of minutes. He's attached to you by the hip, at one point you're going to be annoyed by his antics. if the people in his cult are right about what he feels about you. Maybe being close to you will make you adore him?

# akaza ! ☆

At first AKAZA finds you as a nuisance. His mind tries to push you out of it but he can't help how you invade his thoughts and he can't get his mind off of you! It's not his fault your so intoxicating!

At first, he distances himself from you as he believes your the main problem. he's supposed to be focused on become the strongest and training himself to achieve his goal. he shouldn't be focused on the thought of being by your side and the chance to hold your hand! It's only then when he comes to his senses to realize he's fallen in love with you.

Once he realizes that distancing himself from you isn't the right way to go, he'll approach you.. slowly. It only starts from his commenting on your blood demon art, them commenting on your fighting skills. He even asks for inspiration or for guidance which is something he never say a word about around any other demon. It takes him a while to open up to you and actually begin to fluently have a conversation with you. Once he does get there, you've sure earned a place in his heart.

Douma bugs him about this, he never hears the end about it once the uppermoon knows. He'll pester Akaza about anything about you knowing it gets under his skin, he'll even go as far as to bother you about it. This only lands Douma a missing jaw and an embarrassed Akaza

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | fourteen.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.4k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, cuddles, small, sweet kisses, cute gestures of affection, whatever happens later in the chapter - it's really not what it looks like (aka minho means it), minsung heart to heart, flashback scenes - one that is cute, the other that is a bit more angry and full of emotion (some pushing involved), jisung is trying hard to be an equal middle person between his bestfriends and respect boundaries, pls prepare because the next update will not be fun ... 😅

minho: get to work okay?

you: yes!

minho: stopping by?

you: maybe.. ☺️

minho: 🥺

minho: i'm literally just down the street, why is it a 'maybe?'

minho: i never hear chan or seungmin get 'maybe's'

minho: san too......

you: oh please, how would you know!

you: chan and seungmin are my favorites, remember? same thing with san 😉

minho: bye 😞

You giggle to yourself as you tuck your phone in your pocket, knowing Minho is probably sulking after the teasing you've done. A little teasing shouldn't hurt. Though, it doesn't change the fact that you do plan on visiting him during your break and it doesn't change the fact that you really, really miss him already.

And he really, really misses you, too.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | THE OTHER NIGHT

"Y/N?" You hear your name being called, followed by a few soft knocks. You get up from the easel, halting the current watercolor painting you were working on. When you pop your head out of the room, you see Minho looking through the small windows on your door— a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Hi." You smile up at him. "What're you doing here?"

"Just wanted to see you." You step aside to let him in, bits of the cold, night air rushing in just before you shut the door close. 

"Didn't you have class?" He nods, pushing the hood down from his head. 

"Yeah, took a quick shower then came here." He chuckles. 

"How was it?"

"Good. Tiring." He says, sitting on the edge of your bed when you return to the easel. "What're you working on?" 

"Trying to paint one of the flowers from the conservatory." You giggle. "What's your house up to?"

"Nothing. When I left, Ji and Seungmin were playing this board game while Chan was just watching his show in the living room."

"I don't think I'm any better company." You laugh.

"You are."

"Did you teach today, or did Hyunjin teach?"

"Hyunjin. I had to help him figure out his last 8 count though because he didn't know how to close out the piece." You nod as you continue to paint the last strip of pink onto the canvas, setting your brush down off to the side before getting up to keep Minho company.

"Did you eat?"

"Kinda yeah, but I'm not hungry."

"You sure?" Minho nods, pulling you in between his legs. He gently wraps his arms around you and lays his head against your stomach. Minho doesn't say anything, but you can feel him relaxing in your hold— your arms wrapped around him while your hand massages the back of his head. "You okay?"

"Mhm." He mumbles. "I just really missed you." You're not sure if Minho is speaking in the moment, because his actions, the way he doesn't want to let you go, says he's speaking about the past. How he's been feeling. How he's been yearning for you just as you have for him. It's more than a simple 'i miss you.'

"I missed you, too." He looks up at you, resting his chin against your stomach. "Come, let's go and watch something, yeah?" You unwrap his arms from around your waist, slipping your hand into his to lead the way. Before you can walk further into the living room, Minho pulls you back. Your body is pressed flush against his, his hands on your hips and giving them a gentle squeeze. "What?" You shyly giggle.

"Nothing, I like looking at you, remember?" He breaks his silence, a small laugh falling from his lips. He edges forward to kiss you on the forehead, before moving down to your lips; hands squeezing at your hips again to show you how much he loves kissing you.

How much he adores you.

You only smile at him before leading the way to the couch, where Minho plops onto his side and makes some room for you to lay in front of him. There's a debate about which movie is going up, but Minho quickly waves the white flag and surrenders the decision to you. He doesn't mind watching Hocus Pocus even though it isn't remotely close to Halloween yet, he just wants to be here with you;

Holding you, keeping you close.

Feeling your warmth against him.

Minho is surprised that you even make it past halfway into the movie before you fall asleep. He chuckles to himself when he hears your soft snores amongst the Hocus Pocus background noise. He presses a few kisses to the back of your head that wakes you up for a few seconds— only for you to shift in your position and face him. 

"Baby, do you want to sleep in your bed?" He whispers, hoping you're still awake enough to hear him. "I can go and let you sleep."

"No." You simply mutter against him, shifting closer to his body as if there was no way you'd separate from him at this moment.

"Okay." Is all he says before he's silently chuckling again, wrapping an arm around you to keep you safe. Because this time, he will. He can't help but press a few more feathery kisses across your face, making sure to give a little more love to your scars. 

He missed you.

Really, really missed you.

And this time, he'll keep you safe. He'll protect you, choose you. 

Yours.

☁︎ END

"What's the cute giggle fit for?" Mrs. Pak smiles at you and softly nudges your arm, making you shake your head. 

"Oh, nothing. I'm just, happy?" You respond in a questioning tone, followed by another small giggle.

"Happy looks good on you, sweetheart." Mrs. Pak chuckles as she helps you get a big bouquet together. "Is it San?"

"San." You repeat his name. "Right, I forgot to tell you about that." You give her a small toothless smile. "Just friends."

"You talked to him?"

"I did. He was very sweet about it."

"Good. How did you do it? Tell me all about that evening."

"It was nice! He took me to that famous unagi restaurant and Peace Piece. Then, he took me to the movies for the Studio Ghibli event. We watched Spirited Away."

"That sounds like a lovely evening."

"It was." You look at her. "He took me to the beach to talk about everything, but he was very understanding about it when I told him I just wanted to stay friends. I told him I thought we worked well this way."

"It's good he was understanding. Says alot about his character and how much he respects you."

"He's truly a great friend. It hasn't been long, but San has done a lot to help me feel comfortable, especially in my own skin."

"That's good." She hands you some ribbons. "How about the one you have feelings for?" You giggle.

"The one that I have feelings for? Hm, he's one of my bestfriends." You fiddle with the ribbon and tie it nicely around the tissue paper to keep the bouquet secured. "He actually owns that café down the street. Sunday Morning."

"Oh, he does? I've gone there before, it's a nice café." 

"Mm, yeah. Might pay him a little visit later." You smile at her.

"What's his name?"

"Minho. Me and Jisung met him in high school." She nods. "I'm not really sure how to explain this, but I've always felt something for Minho after I woke up. I feel connected to him on a deeper level—" You pause just as you set the bouquet aside. "Attached, almost."

"Do you guys have history?" You shrug.

"I think so. Wish I could remember. But, Minho said he'd tell me in time. He didn't wanna rush it because he didn't wanna overwhelm me." Mrs. Pak gives you a toothless smile. "I trust him. I know he'll tell me when the time is right."

"That's good. He wants to tell you, I'm sure. But, he's still thinking about you and helping you get comfortable."

"I'm just scared."

"Why scared?"

"I.. I don't know. I don't really know what to expect."

"That's okay. I'm sure he'll tell you, just like you said. When the time is right." You nod.

"Yeah." You simply agree before grabbing a vase to fix another bouquet. "I don't know how else to say it, really. But, I like him. A lot. We.." You let out a small sigh. "Things happened between us already over the past few days. It escalated so quickly? But, I don't think any of this is weird. These aren't unfamiliar feelings."

"Sometimes, the heart just knows."

"What if our history isn't the greatest?"

"Well, that's okay. We are only human, and we aren't perfect." Mrs. Pak softly says next to you. "It's up to you how you'd like to take it, but I would take it as something that can help you grow and learn. We are always learning, and there are always ways to improve. It's never a linear path, my dear." You sigh and nod, eyes darting to the customers that just walked in.

"True."

"Do I get to meet this young man?" You chuckle just as you walk away from the front, looking over your shoulder with a small smile.

"Of course. I'd love for you to meet him and my friends—" At this moment, just as you're about to greet the customers that had walked in, another body comes through the front door; eyes landing right onto you just as you shift your attention to them.

"Minho." He smiles when he hears his name slip from your lips, watching as you tuck your hair behind your ear shyly.

"Hey." He steps in and patiently waits for you to tend to the customers. You walk over in the cutest outfit, with the brightest smile on your face, and Minho can't help but melt. 

"What're you doing here, sir?" You joke and he holds up a cold drink and a pastry bag.

"Since you didn't wanna visit, I thought I'd come make the walk." He hands you the drink and food. "Also wanna make sure you're eating."

"I am, or.. I will." You chuckle. "Once I get a little break." You turn to look at Mrs. Pak as she's ringing up a customer, a small smirk planted on her face. "Come." You loosely lace your fingers with his, dragging him over to Mrs. Pak for a quick little meet-and-greet. "Speaking of Minho."

"Speaking of Minho? What does that mean?" He asks, and you simply laugh it off.

"Mrs. Pak, Minho. Minho, Mrs. Pak."

"Oh, he's a handsome fella." Minho blushes, shyly acknowledging her from your side. "You know how to pick 'em." She whispers and teases you. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you."

"Only good things I hope." He looks at you and you simply shrug. "I hope I'm not being a bother, just wanted to make sure she had something to eat." Minho scratches at his temple. "I'm sorry I didn't bring another for you, Mrs. Pak."

"It's okay." She smiles and nods at you. "Go take your break, I'll be here."

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, go. It's time anyway."

"I'll be right back." You reassure her even though you know she isn't looking for it. You look up at Minho and he gives her another small smile and a shy wave, rubbing his grubby hands against his jeans when he gives her one last goodbye.

"It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Pak."

"You too, handsome!"

"Please." You mutter just as you turn on your heel to walk out the door and Minho scoffs.

"Wow, someone's in a mood today."

"No." You giggle. "You didn't have to drop by, I was going to come." You start walking towards the nearest bench until you feel Minho's hand gently wrap around your wrist and pull you back towards him.

"Were you?" He pulls you close to him, hands slowly wrapping around your waist. "Cause it almost seemed like you were gonna go visit San instead." You laugh.

"Just a joke." You playfully hit him. "Besides, he's still my friend, you know? You're gonna have to get used to San." Minho purses his lips into a tight smile.

"Right." His slight jealousy leaves when he feels your lips against his cheeks, your eyes falling back onto his— glistening like they hold the entire universe in those orbs. 

"But anyways, I was going to visit. Because I kinda sorta missed you?" You say so innocently, so shyly, all doe-eyed and pure.

"I missed you, too." Minho taps the tip of your nose before giving you a chaste kiss to the forehead. He laces his fingers with yours, finally bringing you over to the bench to sit and let you eat.

"What did you make today?" You chuckle when you peek into the pastry bag, finding a thick, fluffy, slice of coffee cake. "Coffee cake?" You look at him and sip on your iced vanilla latté.

"Mhm."

"You spoil me too much."

"I don't, not enough at least." You giggle.

"Shop busy?" Minho shrugs.

"Hm, it's been on and off. The usual. You?"

"Mm, nothing too overwhelming."

"That's good." You both sit for awhile, enjoying the the fresh air, the perfect breeze. Minho has his arm resting on the bench behind you, finger gently drawing shapes on your arm. "You've been feeling okay, right?"

"Mhm. I feel great." You nod and look at him. "It's been nice being able to help Mrs. Pak out."

"She seems very sweet." 

"She is." You chuckle.

"You sure we can't hang out tonight?" Minho brushes the hair away from your face.

"Nope. I promised my uncle I'd have a movie night with him. It's the first night he doesn't really have something to urgently work on. Says he can finally sit back and relax for a bit." You chuckle.

"That's good. He deserves some rest." You nod, popping another piece of the coffee cake into your mouth.

"Yeah, he does. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow after pottery class?"

"Here we go again with the maybe's." He pouts, making you laugh.

"I'm sorry. We will, okay? I'll come by and wait for you."

"You sure?" You nod.

"Positive." You check your phone and sip the vanilla latté a little more, letting out a small sigh. "I should probably get back in there. Thank you for my coffee cake and drink." You stand and do a little stretch, Minho following suit.

"Of course. Just needed to make sure you were okay."

"I am, especially now." You smile. "Thanks again. I'll call you later?"

"Okay, sounds good." Minho cups your cheeks and gently caresses the surface before pulling you into a quick, but sweet kiss. "Have a good rest of your shift, okay?" He continues to look you in the eye and caress your cheek before pulling back to let you go. "Call me if you need me."

"I will." You wave him goodbye, turning on your heel to continue your shift. You take one more look at Minho, who is still waiting until you safely make it back to the register before stepping away.

That night, Minho cooks dinner for him and his roommates— setting aside the food on serving plates until they find themselves hungry and ready to eat. He gathers his own plate and pours himself some beer before walking out to the outdoor sectional in the backyard. He pulls up some videos on Youtube, occasionally watching in between bites to entertain himself while also responding to your texts. He's a bit sad since your responses are slightly delayed, but he understands that you've been wanting to spend time with Uncle Adrian, and you should be. 

He just misses you, and feels a constant need, yearning, for you whenever you aren't around.

"Yo." Jisung pops out into the backyard from the house, adjusting his beanie as he plops onto the sectional next to Minho. "Just eating?"

"Mhm. I made some extras, they're on the counter."

"Thanks." Jisung leans forward and rest his arms onto his knees. "I'll probably eat a bit later. What else have you been up to?"

"Nothing really. Been kinda bored. Popped in to check on Y/N earlier while she was at work."

"She was okay?"

"Yeah, she seems happy to be there." Minho shrugs. "I met the owner, she's really sweet."

"That's good. Where is Y/N?"

"Movie night with Uncle Adrian." Jisung nods. 

"I haven't really texted her today, I've been swamped at work." Jisung lets out a small sigh. "You don't have class today?" He shakes his head.

"Nope."

"Wanna do something then? Where's Channie and Seungmo?"

"Like what? Seungmin is taking a nap in his room and Chan hasn't been home."

"Damn, nevermind then."

"We can hop on FIFA after I eat?" Minho asks him, trying to keep him entertained for tonight.

"Okay." Jisung responds right before nodding towards Minho's phone. "What're you watching?"

"I've been trying to perfect this recipe for awhile, so I'm trying to see how other people bake it." Jisung watches, even though he has no interest in baking or cooking whatsoever. But, it doesn't last long when he's easily distracted by Minho's text tone all of a sudden going off.

One text,

and another,

and another.

He can't help but be a little nosy to see who's blowing up his phone. Surprisingly, it isn't you. And this is the shit Jisung was afraid of.

"Dude." Jisung furrows his brows at Minho's phone, watching the un-named number pop up a few times. Even though it no longer has a name to it, Jisung knows.

"What?"

"Okay, seriously. Can we talk about this?" Jisung pauses the video for Minho before pointing at the texts coming through.

"Shit. It's Kat." Minho groans. "It's really not what it looks like though." He sighs and picks up his phone, briefly scrolling through the angry texts from Kat. All of a sudden. "I cut it off with her completely awhile ago and blocked her number. She's texting from someone else's phone."

"Okay, but you can't say you're done with her and keep the line open. Block that too and be done with it. She's obviously going to keep creating issues if she feels like you'll keep letting her in."

"I'm not letting her in, okay? It's done. Completely."

"Please don't repeat your behavior, for the love of god. I know you hate the nagging. But, how am I supposed to react when Kat is still popping up on your phone even though you claimed you were done with her before?" Minho groans a bit and lays back on the outdoor sectional.

"I really have no intentions of going back. I swear I haven't reached out to her. This is the first time she's trying to text me again on someone else's phone, I'm not even sure why she's texting me all angry." Jisung watches as Minho texts away and asks for her to stop reaching out, blocking the number and deleting the thread shortly afterwards.

"Swear on our friendship?" Jisung asks.

"Swear. I don't know where this is coming from." Jisung sighs a bit and shrinks back into his seat.

"I just.. I don't know. I think we're all just scared about you reverting back to your old ways. It takes two to tango, but Kat has always played a big part in this." Minho sighs.

"I know, I know. I hear you." 

"Have you even told Y/N? Because I know you're trying to get back together with her. But, I think that's a crucial step that you need to take first no matter how it makes everything turn out. It'll need some time and I think that's much needed. Not saying I don't ever want you to stop proving yourself and try again, but I think you both need the time to heal."

"I do plan to tell her."

"Alone?" 

"It's better if I do."

"When are you going to tell her?" Minhi shrugs at the question and lets out another sigh. 

"Tomorrow." Minho solidifies the thought because even though it will kill him to do so, it’s time for him to be honest about it.

"Okay. I just need you to tell her before it's too late, or if she somehow finds out through word of mouth. It'll be harder for her, and it could seriously fuck everything up." Jisung looks up at Minho and he can't even lie, he feels his heart ache a bit seeing how distraught and conflicted he is. He knows he loves you, and that has never changed. He just made the wrong choices.

"I.. I know. I'm going to." Minho swallows the lump in his throat before shifting his attention to Jisung. "I'm sorry."

"I'm just afraid." Jisung says lowly. "It's not that I don't trust you to do better, I just hate seeing her hurt. She's been through so much, and the whole reason I did this was because I just wanted to give her time." Jisung shrugs. "Time to get used to the world and being in it again. I didn't want to see her shrink and hide from the world again. That's all."

"I made some really dumb mistakes, but I wouldn't hurt her. Not again. I'm learning from all of that, and I don't ever wanna go back."

"Yeah." Is all Jisung responds with because of course he wants to trust him. But, he'd be lying if he said he does fully. He can't. Not after he sees Minho prove himself a bit more. "You're going to tell her about that night too, right?"

"Yeah, I have to. I'm sorry, I really am." Minho repeats.

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I haven't really been there for you but.. Y/N." He looks at Minho and shrugs. "Maybe time would be really good for the both of you."

"I understand. I really do. However this pans out, I'll be there for her. I'll respect her space and give her all the time she needs." Minho's thoughts shift back to that night, his heart wrenching thinking about it because not only had he broken up with you once over Kat, but he acted like he chose her that night. When in reality, that was never the case. You got back together and things seemed great— until that very night. The argument was huge, Minho can still hear the yelling repeating in his head; over and over again like a fucking siren. 

You got back together with him because you trusted him to love you, to protect you and keep you safe.

But, he didn't. He didn't protect you, keep you safe. He acted like he chose her that night.

He let you leave even though he shouldn't have.

"Either way— please." Jisung says close to a whisper. "All I ask is that you're sure this time. No more playing with her emotions, no more second-guessing her. Please mean it."

☁︎ FLASHBACK | SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

When Jisung is finally able to get you to bed so that you can take a nap, he leaves a note saying he'll be back and that he's grabbing some food for you to eat later.

Which, isn't entirely a lie. But, he has other plans right now.

He's fuming as he pulls off to the side of the curb, barely putting the car in park before he's hopping out and racing to the apartment.

"The hell is wrong with you?!" Jisung storms into the shared apartment and pushes Minho.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Minho pushes him back. "Not today, Jisung. I'm not doing this—"

"No, you don't get to do that. I just left Y/N after she's been crying for hours over you!"

"Am I fucking wrong to be honest?! I just think we need some time apart to figure things out."

"Figure things out? You've clearly figured things out. If I only knew you'd pull this and leave her for somebody else, I wouldn't have let this shit happen in the first place." Jisung furrows his brows at him and shakes his head. "You don't even look like you care—"

"Of course I do!" Minho's tone raises. "God, it was the fucking hardest thing to do! Of course I care about her, that's why I didn't wanna hurt her more!"

"Then why do it!" Jisung yells back. 

"I don't know!" It falls silent between the two before Minho lets out a breath and runs his hand through his hair. "I don't know what to tell you. I really tried not to, but it just wasn't happening. It wasn't working." Jisung scoffs.

"All because of Kat?" Silence, again. "What the hell has Kat given you that Y/N hasn't?" More silence. "Right."

"I'm sorry." Minho says lowly. "I love Y/N, I do. I just haven't felt in love with her for awhile now. I don't really know what it is, I thought maybe—"

"Bullshit! Not with the way you easily disposed of her and made her feel replaceable." Jisung shakes his head. "You don't get to say shit. There's gonna be a day when you realize that tossing your relationship over one girl wasn't worth it, but I hope you don't come crawling back. Y/N is worth way more than that." Jisung begins to walk away but comes back to face Minho once more, stepping closer towards him. "I trusted you. I really trusted you to take care of her and be there for her. I would've understood if you two needed some time apart, but never would I have imagined that you'd do it over another girl." Jisung probably sound so ridiculous calling his bestfriend out, but what can he say? He really is upset, and he really did trust Minho to take care of you. There wasn't a single thing that made Jisung think he'd ever leave your side. Sure, he noticed Minho getting close to Kat, but he didn't think it'd get to the point of this—

Of hurting you, leaving you;

Making you think you were disposable. Replaceable. Not worthy enough to stay.

Because you are worthy, you are all the amazing things and then some. If it's anybody who would know, it's Jisung. You've always been his other half, and he knows how big your heart is. You've always put everyone else before yourself, and you've always given your all— loved harder than anybody else has loved.

Minho was making a mistake.

But Minho is also his bestfriend, and he knows he would prefer for him to be honest. He wouldn't want him to go behind your back, god no. He just doesn't understand Minho's thinking process, and maybe he never will.

Wasn't this just a phase?

Was it really worth throwing it all away to see if something new would make him happy?

Maybe. 

Jisung doesn't really understand it entirely.

What he does know is that he's angry at Minho, and he's hurting to see you cry. What he does know is that he can't really look at Minho right now, and he can't really talk to him. What he does know is that he may not be able to talk to him properly for awhile. 

"What just happened here?" Chan asks, confused as he walks through the door. He feels the tension already, and he's not sure how to react. He's barely seen Minho and Jisung like this.

"I don't know, ask him. Maybe he'll tell you more." Jisung diverts his attention to Chan briefly before returning to Minho. "Whatever. Do you, dude. But, keep your bullshit away from Y/N."

☁︎ END

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[schrodinger-swriter]

Hazbin Fluff alphabet

Greetings, in between requests I've decided to give this little... thing.. a go! I want to give credit to my friend @the-s1lly-corner for giving me the idea, and for allowing me to use their list as a reference.

To keep things easy on my end, I only ask that you only use one character per ask with a maximum of 9 letters per ask. Of course, you can send in multiple; this is mostly to limit how long a post is and because I feel this will be easier on me if I kept it to one character.

Other than that you may request to your hearts desire!

Only character off the table is Valentino. Not all characters are tagged, but it's not exactly a limit of who I will and won't write for. If there is any additional character I do not feel confident or comfortable writing for I will let it be known.

A- ATTRACTION (What they look for in a partner/find desirable, their type)

B- BONDING (What activities do they do with their partner?)

C- CUDDLING (How do they feel about it? Who's big/little spoon?)

D- DATES (What does a romantic night look like for them? Do you stay in or go out?)

E- EMOTION (How emotional are they in the relationship? Do they wear their heart on their sleeve or pick up a cool and collected mask?)

F- FAMILY (Do they want children? If so how many?)

G- GIFT GIVING (What gifts do they bring to their partner? What gifts do they like receiving?)

H- HARSH (How often do you two get into arguments or misunderstandings? Who tries to patch things up first?)

I- INJURY (How do they cope when their partner gets hurt? Are they able to care for their partner? Or if the roles were reversed, would they want their partner to take care of them?)

J- JEALOUSY (How jealous do they get? How do they handle it?)

K- KISSES (Their favorite place and way to kiss you, and their favorite place to be kissed)

L- LOVE LANGUAGE (How they show their love)

M- MARRIAGE (Do they wanna get married or are they content with a long term relationship? Marriage isn't the end all be all, after all)

N- NO (What are their deal breakers? What can and will break the relationship apart?)

O- ODDITY (What are their quirks or habits?)

P- PET NAMES (What do they call you? What do they like to be called?)

Q- QUESTION (Curiosity! What common questions do they ask you?)

R- RISK (How far are they willing to go for you?)

S- SHH (What/How many secrets do they hold?)

T- TUNES (Your song! What song do you guys associate with the relationship?)

U- UPSET (What is it like when one of you are upset? How do you cheer the other up?)

V- VALENTINE (How is the holiday spent?)

W- WARRIOR (How they feel about you working alongside them in their work/fighting)

X- X-RAY (How well can they read you?)

Y- YEARN (How do they cope with separation, if they struggle at all?)

Z- ZZZZ (What's it like to share a bed with them?)

[kazehita]

hi! i noticed your recent post recommending the fic natural satellite and i think i've noticed other isat fics around your blog too. because of that, i was wondering if you had a list of recommended isat fics! i will admit i am not someone who just peruses around on ao3 but i love reading about these characters so if you have any recs, i would greatly appreciate them! thanks and i hope you have a lovely day :3

I love ALL isat fic - each and every one is so special and wonderful - but if I listed the whole archive that wouldn't really help huh... So! Im going to list just some off the top of my head., this is in no way definitive. Isat spoilers ahead - get all the way through the game and the secret before proceeding.

Big recommendation list below:

Additionally, mind the tags for each fic - I wont be specifying the content warnings here.

(don't just read the complete ones!!! Incomplete fic is just as delightful I promise :3)

Complete: Bloom - Level99Eevee Most people know it, it sits at the top of the tag! It's my every wish fulfilled for post-cannon moments.

Memories of defeat - dirtbagtrashcat Stuff in and immediately after the loops, fantastic extrapolations!!!! Very much Loop <33 I find this very grounded and realistic!!!!

Emotion Sickness - dirtbagtrashcat Post cannon fun/trauma with siffrin and the gang.

Memories of Touch - dirtbagtrashcat look i just really like their work sjkdjkfjkasdf its all good go through their profile. This is Isa thoughts.

And if I were not myself, would this be easier? - rabbit_soup Post-game! I love how they flesh out the world.

The Understudy - kittyorange Suuuuch a loop fic I love it to bits. Post cannon loop and the gang stuff.

Star-Speckled Skin - Lora_Blackmane Funn angsty moment, title is very descriptive. Lives in my head rent free.

Clinging to dying embers - Coffeewolf67 Odile's perspective of sif using the dagger. appropriate content warnings apply :)

between the end and a new start - glowingjellyfishtreelights SICKFICCC I had a very funny experience with this one where due to memory mishaps I got to read it for the first time twice! Absolute banger.

What's in a name? - Raaj Explores siffrins love of plays. I have to regularly reread this for my brain to function.

Starstruck - Dusk_Illusionist Isa yearns. The fic. It rocks.

Saturn Devouring His Son (Time Choking on Stone Choking on Blood)- BasilPaste Post cannon moment... I like it...

(Why) you can't let them know by Mayasynth sasasap fic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i like it. i hold it. i like it. UGH theres more but I have already listed so many.. my other favorites... im so sorry.,.. i love you guys too... Incomplete:

How To Rest by rabbit_soup Sequel to "And if i were not myself, would this be easier?" Loop is here and I love violence.

TRY IT AGAIN, CHEATER! by discatded "[Loop returns to their own universe after everything. It's hard.]" - from the summary. Love it love it. I will never get enough of this premise.

To Extend our Reach to the Stars Above by Cinnamin_Is_a_Star "Sif if he was team rocket" and is so fun. Very excited to see this one pan out!

until we move on. by Anonymous (also known as lozy) LOOP MY BELOVED..! loop returns to their universe and promptly looses it like the universe intended. Cant get enough of it.

Natural Satellite by dirtbagtrashcat If a single fic makes me the Most insane its natural satellite if I'm honest.... like bro... It just gets right to me...

Sunder by Miranda_tries_their_best Post-cannon Loop fic!! They travel on their own for a bit (but not forever), and I love it dearly.

Face the Light by Kaimiiru Post-game, I hold it close to my heart.... Ah... It's so dear to me.

These next two are sloop so if that's not your thing you have been warned :]

raconte-moi qu’on puisse crier tout bas by bibliomaniac I'm holding this high above my head so everyone can see it the characterization is off the charts.

To Cut You Open With a Knife and Find Your Sacred Heart by Hexea_Art Changeling Loop fic!! What a fun concept. I am excited to see where it goes. yay! AGAIN... THERE ARE SO MANY I LOVE SO MUCH but im forcing myself not to look through the tag else I'd add everything. Honestly, I do recommend just launching right on into the ao3 tag for ISAT even if you aren't super familiar with ao3. Just be sure to filter out anything you don't want to see!

Consider this a good starting point ^^

[desafinado]

Hello! I really love your writings, they're lighthearted and interesting to read. I also love your characterization for the characters! Would it also be alright for me to request some fluffy domestic headcanons for Alhaitham or Kamisato Ayato with their s/o as their wife? Thank you and have a nice day! <3 <3 <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 happily ever afters (?)

°｡⋆ alhaitham, ayato x reader (separately)

°｡⋆ sickening fluff, nicknames/pet names galore, suggestive (omg)

note: hi hi! thank you so much for your support and feedback !!! as for your request, why not both! hope this satisfies your domestic/fluffy desires !! also… i like framing marriages as happy endings with a question mark, because i think that pretty much encapsulates my perspective on it. you hope it is a happy one and you’ll strive to make it such, but you’re never gonna be certain of it.

(alhaitham, ayato) | (zhongli, diluc, kazuha)

alhaitham ♡

i’m desperately thinking malewife, and i will bc these are my hcs so damn it.

he didn’t completely quit his job, but if you work as well… expect him to be babying you just the tiniest bit.

he made a promise to take care of you so he very much will.

cooking breakfast/dinner when he notices you coming home a bit more tired.

buying groceries (most importantly, your favorite snacks) while he's out.

leaving little notes around the house whenever he has to leave for work (whether it be a few hours or days).

you can also expect him to rant more nonchalantly, aka welcome the inner sanctum of his thoughts he must repress in front of higher ups in order to be “polite”.

“i mean what kind of buffoonery must you partake in to even have that idea? the mental gymnastics you must do in order to get from point a to point b is-” “dear, breathe and drink this tea for a second.”

in turn, you’re also often the one to keep him in and check and remind him of his own needs (whether it be emotional or purely basic like eating and sleeping).

in relation to this, you’ve implemented cuddle breaks where if you feel he’s going too far and in too deep, you can drag him into a cuddle session for an hour.

he’s usually silent the whole time, but you can see the clear progression from him grumbling about it to melting into your arms.

also they rarely ever last for just an hour and sometimes it might even escalate (suggestive yes) if he's feeling particularly clingy.

lets address the elephant in the room, alhaitham has been touch-starved for most of his life, so you coming in and giving him all the affection (with no question or judgment whatsoever) is the best thing that has happened to him.

his little smile when you hug him from behind or leave a kiss on his forehead.

anyways, back on track, most people don’t even realize you two are married but you both don’t really care either. it's just funny to hear/see their reactions.

“dinner with someone you're calling your beloved? yeah sure, that’ll be interesting” “you can disrespect me, but i will [redacted] if you so much as think about disrespecting them.”

living individual lives doesn’t stop either of you from being particularly clingy though… whether it be you storming into alhaitham’s office demanding for him to just hold you tight or alhaitham skipping work to have you kiss all his stress away.

you’re both pretty upfront about your emotions, because you don’t want to lose anything to miscommunication… (even if sometimes, it might be a bit embarrassing)

at the end of the day, you two are married… and he couldn’t have asked for a better partner to lay himself vulnerable to.

how can you say no when his eyes are practically speaking for his heart; a vision of longing and yearning so crystal clear. you’re running a hand through his hair, and as every second passes he only leans in to your touch. he looks up at you for a second, debating whether or not he interrupt the comfortable silence; he eventually looks back down, but you’re not one to ignore that and brush it off.

“my love, what is the matter?”

another moment passes before he finally gathers the courage to say the words trapped in his throat.

“i know we’ve been over it, but i can’t believe i’m yours… and you’re mine. i’m just thankful, is all. i hope i can always be the one you can rely on, as you are to me.”

a minor blush dusts his cheeks as you giggle softly at his flustered state. it wasn’t unusual, but it certainly made you feel happy, being able to fluster the stoic and pragmatic alhaitham.

“and you are, my love. celestia could send rains of fire and stampedes of thunder, and i would only ever run to you. i’ve entrusted my soul to yours, whether you know it or not, and you’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

ayato ♡

lord kamisato, this. lord kamisato, that. he does not care, he will take time out of schedule specifically for you and only you.

because no one could compare to the way you call his name, when you wake up first thing in the morning, your voice still groggy, or while you’re both walking in the garden and you spot a beautiful flower.

you specifically request him not to make you any food though, because there's a 20% it will be inedible (the chances are low, but never zero)

instead, he’ll order your favorite pastries and have them delivered every morning in time for breakfast.

once he leaves for work, you both are very reluctant to let go… as if you’re not gonna sneak into his office every hour or so.

having you sat on his lap, arms around your waist while he’s going over documents.

if he has some plans that require him to be out and about, he takes every chance to sneak away and have a secret little moment or two with you.

this only escalates during festivals when his stress levels reach new heights. you steal him away, so you both can actually enjoy the festival the way everyone else is.

hearing him quietly chuckling feels as though you’ve been welcomed into an eternal paradise that only you two know of.

on the rare occasion that you don’t see him the entire day, you change or do things around the house to it feel more like a home for the both of you

ayato’s been complaining about back pain? you spend the day searching for a pillow that fixes that (worse comes to worse, there’ll be a new mattress when he comes home…)

the walls feel a bit bare and drab? you’ll just frame and hang up some of your favorite memories together.

you’ll also often find yourself experimenting with new boba recipes and having him try them all when he comes home; because of this pastime of yours, his favorite milk tea flavor has gone through a variety of changes.

anyways, when he does come home from work, you very much try to leave it outside (unless he truly needs to get things off his chest by venting).

he just wants to spend an evening with you watching a movie, having homemade dinner, or simply cuddling in bed.

the rest of the world fades into obscurity whenever you’re holding him close, face snuggled into his chest.

you’re just whispering compliments and words of comfort, because archons know he doesn’t hear it enough (/srs i feel like he gets used to the courteous praises coming from his colleagues and such for doing a good job, but you telling him how pretty his face is, is simply unmatched)

to hell it be damned, he fought for his marriage to you and he will fight everyday to protect the home you’ve both built together.

“in the kitchen!”

your voice makes itself known as ayato is quick to rush to the kitchen to see what you’re up to. there’s some flour scattered on the counter and floor as well as some unwashed dishes in the sink, and you’re in the middle of it all, giving him an awkward smile.

“i was just trying a new recipe and tried making pearls, i’m sorry about the mess…”

you laugh awkwardly as he only moves faster towards you. the moment he reaches you, he takes both your hands, soft and still covered in flour.

“i’m sure it turned out great. your hard work clearly shows.” he chuckles, bringing a hand up to your face stroking your cheeks. “i think… it’s missing a personal touch though. would you mind?” he closes the gap between you both, his lips barely grazing yours, waiting for your confirmation.

“indeed it does. i’ve missed you… a lot.”

your lips eventually find his and you can’t help the smile that creeps on to your face. its moments like these that you cherish and keep in your heart; these memories of him that belong to you forever more.

requests are open!! please do not repost on other sites.