#but i do have something to say but i’ll post later bc i think more of the target audience will be online

[sapphicnsh]

.

[toruro]

— ✧ the letter

i hope one word, one letter, will laugh and cry with you (the letter / ateez)

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.

genres. slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l

tags. idol!au, alcohol consumption & underage drinking, lots of arguments, Lots of pent up emotions oops, miscommunication, sorta hot headed reader, minghao is minghao and that is a warning enough

fic playlist.

w/c. 26k

a/n. the smut has been moved to a separate post which can be found here! i had so so so much fun writing this! huge thanks to @gyuswhore bc em literally helped me through every step of the way & sat through me planning & switching around the events of the story a bajillion times, and thank u to @honeyhypen who read over this for me ^-^

ENVELOPE

To: Xu Minghao

“Why are you in my room?” Jun huffs, turning around to look up at you as you stand by his door. In front of him is a massive, yet unfinished LEGO replica of Hogwarts. You frown, glancing at his friend who lays on his bed with a phone up to his face.

He’s Jun’s new friend, and you’ve heard your brother talk about him but this is your first time really seeing Minghao in the flesh. Shaggy hair hangs loose over his dark eyes as he peeks over his phone and glances at Jun, as if to silently ask who you are.

“Dad says dinner is ready,” you tell him, feeling a little timid under the gaze of the new boy. He’s only two years older than you, but the only interaction you get with high schoolers is your brother, so you’re feeling shy. He’s a very nice looking boy, you think to yourself, but try hard not to stare as Minghao uncrosses his legs and sits up on your brother's bed.

Jun’s eyes soften when he notices you standing awkwardly, standing up and pointing at you as he says your name. “My sister—two years younger,” he explains.

“One point five, actually,” you correct him with a roll of your eyes, feeling more comfortable now that Jun is initiating something. Your brother laughs at you and ruffles your hair while Minghao stands up behind him.

“Ya-da, ya-da. You’re still two grades below, so it doesn’t really make a difference. Anyways, this is Minghao,” he says, pointing at his friend behind him who throws you a small smile and wave.

“I know,” you blurt out before you even have a chance to think, heat flushing to your face after you realize what you said and see Minghao give you a funny look. “I-I mean because Jun talks about you a lot,” you clarify, clearing your throat. “Y’know, he doesn’t have a lot of friends so when—”

Jun clamps a hand over your mouth and gently drags you out of the room as Minghao follows behind closely with silent laughter. “That’s enough from you. Watch it, or I’m never letting you talk to my friends again.”

“Friends? I think you mean friend,” you retort, looking back at Minghao who watches the two of you amusedly. “Are you sure you want to be friends with someone so mean to his sist—”

Jun flicks your forehead and you push his chest. “Shut up already! If you scare away all my friends, all I’ll have left is you, and you’ll just have to put up with me all day!”

“You’re right about that,” you say with a heavy sigh as you all make your way to the dinner table where your father has set out a meal for the three of you. Putting your hands up in defeat as you sit down at your spot at the middle end of the table, you glance at Minghao who takes a seat with Jun sitting between the two of you. “I guess I’ll back off for now.”

Jun scoffs. “You better.” The three of you laugh together.

Yiren rummages through your closet, and you frown deeply. “Hey! You better clean that up,” you warn, rolling off of your bed and onto the floor, lazily standing up.

“I’m helping you pick out a nice outfit! You said Minghao is coming ri—” You scramble to your feet to slap a hand over Yiren’s mouth, eyes wide.

“Shut up! My brother’s room is right there—he might hear you!”

Yiren rolls her eyes, nudging your hand off her mouth with a huff. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” you narrow your eyes at her, grabbing one of your bras that she threw onto the ground and stuffing it back into your closet. “You thought I was going to tell Jun that I have a crush on his best friend?” you half whisper, half yell.

“Uh, why wouldn’t you? You’re seriously missing out on your chance to have him help you get with Minghao.”

You scoff, looking down at all the clothes strewn across the floor. “Have you met my brother? He would flip if I even mentioned being with a guy, let alone that guy being two years older and his friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Yiren retorts, throwing herself onto your bed leaving you to clean up the mess she made.

“Yes I do. This is how I can tell you don’t have any brothers …”

“Well if you never make a move on Minghao, how are you ever going to get him? You gotta start somewhere, and maybe your brother is the first nut you gotta crack to get there.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly planned on making any moves,” you mumble, reaching down to pick up a cute pink jacket you haven’t seen in a while.

“Uh, why not?” Yiren piques, sitting upright on your mattress.

“Excuse me, have you looked at Minghao?” you groan, slumping against your wall with the jacket in your hands. “He’s so … cool, and popular, and handsome,” you gush, and Yiren makes a disgusted face.

“Uh, no, sorry I don’t fawn over your future husband, so I don’t really look at Minghao but—”

“And he’s going to be a senior! Why would a senior ever go for—” you look down and gesture at yourself, “—me.”

“You’re seriously downgrading yourself—you know you’re a catch.”

“Yeah, not for someone like him,” you snort, flopping down onto your bed next to her. “It’s whatever, it’s a stupid crush anyways.”

“Yeah,” Yiren says flatly. “You’ve only been crushing on him for like three years—hey! Don’t hit me!”

“Then stop saying this stuff,” you groan, throwing a pillow onto her head.

“Okay fine, I’ll stop. So are you going to wear that?” she asks, pointing at the jacket you left at the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, I think I will. It’s cute right?”

“Mhm … bet Minghao will totally like it and—”

“Yiren, shut up,” you giggle, pushing her again as you roll off the bed. “Okay, so the pink jacket and these jeans?” you ask, picking one pair off the ground and holding it up for her to see.

“Mm, no,” she says while shaking her head, standing up to join you as she looks at all of the clothes she threw across the floor. “Let’s see …” she hums to herself.

“Yiren,” you say with a laugh, “I think you’re putting more thought into this than me.”

“Well I can’t just let my best friend be single and lonely for the rest of her life! If all you do is sit around and listen to Radiohead, you’re going to end up being sixty-five and alone in some cottage in the woods.”

“Hey! That actually seems pretty peaceful,” you try to object, but Yiren narrows her eyes in your direction.

“Okay well,” she drawls out, putting her hands on your shoulders so you’re right in front of her, “Imagine being sixty-five and living in a cute cottage in the woods with Minghao. Sounds better, doesn’t it?” You can’t help the giddy grin that makes its way onto your face when Yiren says that, and she punches your shoulder lightly when she notices. “See, you do want that! So just listen to me, okay?”

“Okay, okay, fine! Just tell me which jeans to wear.”

She looks down, picking through the denim before pulling out a light blue one with little flowers embroidered on the pockets. “Look, this is cute. It’ll match with the jacket.”

You nod along, not questioning her because as far as you know, Yiren’s fashionable instinct stretches much further than yours and whatever she says about this must be true. As you change from your pajamas  into your new, curated outfit, Yiren sits back on the bed and grins widely.

“Looks perfect on you. Minghao will love it.”

“You think?” you pique, looking at her with bright, beaming eyes.

She winks at you and you jump up and down on the balls of your feet at the excitement. “I want at least 25% of whatever you get from your wedding gifts. You both will owe me big time.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens … Anyways, you ready to go? Let’s wait downstairs and get some pop while we wait for Minghao to come,” you suggest, Yiren agreeing with a nod as she bounces behind you. Jun, it seems, is still in his room waiting for his friend, so you stick your head through his door. “We’re going down to snack a little. Wanna come?”

Your brother shrugs, pushing himself off his swiveling chair to join you. “You know if we still have those cupcakes? The ones you made last week?”

“I think we have a few left. Why? You liked them?” you exclaim happily, turning around to face Jun as the three of you settle in the kitchen. You reach for a box you kept on the island, popping off the lid to show him.

Jun grins and pulls one out and you offer one to Yiren who stands beside you. “‘course I like them,” he says with his mouth stuffed with cake and cream.

Yiren, shooting a look of disgust his way, says, “Ew! Please don’t chew and talk, that’s gross.” Jun rolls his eyes at her as Yiren stuffs her own face with the cupcake, sighing as she digs in.

“Whatever,” Jun grumbles after swallowing it down. “They taste really good, you should make them more.”

Yiren nods, tapping your shoulder, “Agreed. Send me the recipe too,” voice muffled as she continues to munch down on the cupcake.

“Didn’t you just tell me not to eat with my mouth full?” Jun mutters, crossing his hands over his chest. You laugh at the banter and suddenly you hear the doorbell ring, ears perking up. “That’s probably Minghao—I’ll get the door.”

As your brother makes his way down to the foyer, you turn to look at Yiren. “I would give you the recipe but I don’t want to be the reason your house burns down. Seriously, remember the last time you tried baking and—”

“Oh my god, is the recipe what you’re thinking about right now? Minghao is just about to come—offer him a cupcake! Show him your amazing baking skills and show him what a good housewife you can be!”

You give your best friend a look of bewilderment. “What the hell Yiren,” you groan, slapping your hand on your face, trying to hold back your chuckles. “Okay, I’ll give it to him but only because I want him to be impressed. Not because I want to submit myself to misogyny for the sake of a man.”

“Okay fine but—look!” she exclaims in a hushed whisper. “He’s here!” You immediately straighten your back and smile when Jun walks back into the kitchen with Minghao. He’s wearing some loose jeans and a black hoodie, his hair longer than before.

He says your name when he sees you, throwing up a wave and a smile. Minghao then glances at Yiren with a blank stare, pursing his lips together. Yiren chuckles nervously and clicks her tongue while pointing at herself. “Yiren.”

“Ah. Hi Yiren,” he says politely.

“You guys want some pop?” Jun offers when he opens up the fridge. Yiren, Minghao, and you nod happily and respectively call out your choices.

“Sprite!”

“Cola!”

“Cola!”

Jun juts his lip out in a pout when he turns back to the three of you. “I wanted Cola too, but there’s only two left.” You’re about to furrow your brows and tell him that it’s okay, you don’t really want any, but Minghao speaks up before you.

“She can have the Cola, I don’t mind,” he says casually, grabbing one can from Jun and handing it to you with soft eyes. “Here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t really care for the difference between Sprite and Cola and—”

Minghao chuckles and shakes his head, and you think you might just pass out when your palm brushes against his knuckles when he eases the cold can into your hand. “Seriously, it’s fine,” he tells you. You glance at Jun and Yiren who are busy opening their own cans, turning your attention back to Minghao.

“Thank you … Uh, do you want a cupcake? I made some a while ago and we still have some left,” you offer, holding up the box to him.

“It’s the last one. Are you sure?”

“How the tables have turned,” you laugh, and Minghao cracks a bright smile at that and holy crap, if you weren’t so busy trying to keep your composure, you’d be freaking out over how handsome he looks when he smiles. “‘course you can have it. I’ve had plenty of them,” you admit sheepishly as he reaches for the cupcake and brings up to his mouth.

“Holy shit. I don’t blame you for eating a lot—if I had these in my house they’d be gone in like an hour.”

“Right!” Yiren agrees, and you can’t help but chew on your bottom lip when you smile from the praise.

“Guess this is just a sign for you to make more, huh,” Jun says, walking to stand next to you to lean on your shoulder.

“Uh-uh! You gotta reimburse me somehow,” you protest, looking up at your brother with a firm expression.

“Please make more, they’re really good. I’ll buy you boba if you make more,” Minghao chimes, and it’s safe to say you don’t expect it from the way you cough on your own saliva. Yiren laughs at your reaction, and Jun only looks at you weirdly when you nod in agreement.

“Oh, so you’ll make cupcakes when he asks but not for your dear older brother?”

You roll your eyes, saying, “He offered to buy me boba! You know I can’t turn that down.”

Jun huffs in faux irritation, digging his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys. “Ya-da, ya-da. Anyways, would anyone other than my super fake, mean, evil sister like to go to karaoke now?” he asks playfully. All it takes is one glare and pulling on his hair for a few seconds to have him shouting out apologies as the four of you make your way to the car garage.

The ride to the karaoke place is short with Jun in the front and Minghao sitting in the passenger seat next to him. You and Yiren pile into the back, and the three of you scroll through your phones to decide what songs to sing later while Jun drives.

“I get to sing Creep, right?” you ask excitedly, bouncing up and down in your seat.

“How’d I know you were going to bring up Radiohead,” Jun mutters, pressing his head back into the head rest when he stops at a red light, while Minghao turns in his seat to look back at you with wide eyes.

“You like Radiohead?” he asks with a small smile.

The corners of your lips are lifted and your face brightens when you nod vigorously. “Yeah I do!”

“I think ‘like’ would be an understatement. I’m like 99% sure Thom Yorke lives in her skin or something because what she has for Radiohead is a lot more than just ‘like,’” Yiren says.

“No way, I love Radiohead,” Minghao tells you. Holy shit. So Minghao is attractive and nice and smart and pretty much perfect at everything and he enjoys Radiohead? You might go insane.

“Really?” Your eyes are wide with your jaw hanging open, leaning forward in your seat.

You hear Jun groan from the driver’s seat, and both you and Minghao shoot him a dirty look. “I forgot both of you are obsessed with Radiohead. Seriously, could either of you get more emo?”

“If you weren’t driving right now, I’d strangle you,” Minghao says bluntly before looking back at you. “Anyways, what’s your favorite song?”

“Junnie, please, can you put on Creep now? You know I’ve been waiting forever,” you plead, holding your hand out to the microphone that’s in your brother’s hand. The room is dark and lit up with red and blue LEDs across the border, making the room glow purple.

“But I want to sing another round of Taylor Swift!” he protests, pointing at the big screen in front of you while clutching the microphone close to his chest. You scoff, poking his side. “You know I’m not ticklish, so that doesn’t work.”

“You’re not ticklish? How?” Yiren exclaims, looking at Jun with wide eyes.

You turn to squint at her. “He’s weird. I thought we already established this.”

“Hey!” Jun whines. “See this is why you won’t be getting to sing Creep tonight.”

“Jun!” you cry out, and you’re about to pull out a string of complaints and curses, but then Minghao is stepping in, pointing at you.

“Put on Creep. She’s been asking for a while and I want to sing it too,” he says. Jun is quiet for a moment before sighing and handing you the microphone which leads you to puffing up your chest and smiling proudly.

“Thanks,” you chirp gleefully, as Minghao holds his own microphone up to his lips.

When he smiles at you, it’s kind and sincere in such a way that it has your heart swelling under your pretty pink jacket. Minghao coolly points at Yiren who sits by the control tablet. “Creep. Hit it.”

The air inside your house is warm as you skip down the hall and down the stairs. When the bell rang the first time, you thought it was just some package but when you hear it ring twice, you think otherwise.

When you peek through the little peep-hole, you jump up and down on the balls of your feet, a mix of excitement and nerves pools at your stomach. You open the door and Minghao shuffles in front of you at the doorstep. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, and his hair looks shorter. “Did you cut your hair?” you ask the seventeen year old as you move to the side so he can step in.

“Yeah, it was getting in my eyes too much,” he tells you with a nod, a small puff of vapor coming from his lips. It’s cold, and you hear him inhale a breath of relief when you close the door behind him. “Thought the door was never gonna open. I was freezing my ass off,” he says, unwinding the brown scarf from his neck.

“‘m sorry,” you reply sheepishly as he takes off his shoes, following you through the foyer. “Jun didn’t tell me you were coming so I was in my room. He’s still out with my dad, but he’ll be back soon.”

“That’s fine.” Minghao shrugs off his puffer jacket, placing it on the coat rack while you make your way to the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink? It’s cold outside, so I can make some hot chocolate. Jun got the nice kind from the cafe down the street.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says, sitting down at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island as you take out some milk and hot chocolate powder. It’s silent, and you chew your lip while thinking about how this is the first time in a really long time that you and Minghao have been alone together.

Nearing the end of his twelfth year in high school and just like the first time you met him, he’s as enticing as ever. Dancing competitions with Jun, left and right, smart and respectful with the teachers, popular among the students—you're lucky you get to talk to someone as cool as him, even if it is only on the account that you’re his best friend’s little sister.

“How’s high school?” he asks casually as you boil some milk over the stove.

“It’s alright … English is still hard as ever,” you admit, dropping the powder into the frothing milk.

Minghao chuckles softly when you turn around to face him, and a small smile makes its way onto your lips. “Yeah, it was never my strong suit either. You still friends with … what’s her name? Sorry, I’m not good with names—the girl who lost her voice at karaoke when she came with us?”

“Yiren?” you giggle softly, recalling the memory. “Yeah. Still friends, still as loud as ever,” you say with a sigh, mixing the milk as it turns light brown. “How are things with you? Jun’s been telling me the dance practices you guys have is pretty intense. He always looks like he could eat a horse when he comes home.”

“That’s good to hear, and yeah, it’s all going good. It is pretty tiring, but it’s a lot of fun,” Minghao replies, stretching his arms behind his back as you pour out the hot chocolate into two mugs, bringing it over. “Thanks,” he murmurs, grabbing from your hand sitting down at your regular spot, one extra chair seated between the two of you as always.

Arm’s length, you think for a moment, before shaking yourself of the thought. “I’m sure the practice is paying off though—seems like Jun is always talking about some new kinda competition or something.”

“Mhm,” Minghao hums, taking a sip of the hot cacao. “This is really good, thank you,” he says with a soft smile, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some sort of giddiness erupt in your stomach. “I think … I think we can really take it somewhere—our dancing.”

It’s a sparing thought that Minghao and Jun’s dreams are far beyond yours, and you have a bit of a difficult time trying to understand what he means by somewhere and if that somewhere includes you or not.

“You’re going to Korea?” your eyebrows furrow as you glance between Jun and your parents.

“Nothing’s finalized yet—” your mother says, but when Jun’s eyes flicker between you and the ground, you already know that this is set in stone.

“Yes it is.” Your voice is small when the words come out. “You—” you take a deep breath, “—you’re going.”

“Not now, of course,” your dad says, patting your back as he stands up, your mother following suit. “Talk for a few minutes, yeah?” he says as both your parents walk out. When your whole family walked into your room ten minutes earlier to tell you they had big news, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not this.

And now you’re sitting with your brother on one end of your bed while you’re curled up against your pillows on the other, unable to meet his gaze.

“When are you going?” you ask quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“August.”

“That’s in a month and a half,” your shoulders deflate as you say it. “How long?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You bury your face in your hands in hopes that it’ll muffle your cries. It doesn’t.

Jun scoots over to you quickly when he sees your shoulders shake, one arm going around your back to pull you close to his body, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “How are you going to do it?” you blubber as your brother pats your back. “You can’t just go to a whole different country alone and—”

“I won’t be alone. Minghao is coming with me,” Jun tells you quickly. Now that brings your head up. You don’t care that your nose is snotty and that your hair is all over the place and that your face burns, you just need to see the look on Jun’s face to see that he isn’t messing with you.

The way his own eyes are glossy gives you your answer. “Y-you both got accepted into tha-that company?”

Jun nods. “We applied together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were applying? I-I would’ve understood. You could have given me more time to process this and—” You look down at your hands, “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, not finding the words in your throat.

“We didn’t even know if we would get accepted. Me and Minghao promised each other that we’d only follow through with it if both of us got in and we didn’t think that there’d be a high chance of that because it’s so competitive … I only told Mom and Dad because until we got the acceptances, I really didn’t think it was going to actually happen.” You gulp at his words, trying to let it all sink in.

“I think … I think I just need to go on a walk. Take a breather, y’know,” you mutter under your breath as you stand up. Just as you're about to walk away, you stop yourself, looking back at Jun who stares down at his hands. You don’t think twice before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. “I’m really proud of you,” you say quietly before rushing out of your room and down the stairs.

You shove your feet into some slippers in the foyer, rushing out onto the street soon after. You aren’t sure what you’re doing or where you’re headed, but you continue to trudge along the sidewalk until you’re walking down the main road.

The summer air is hot and stuffy, and you wonder if you feel so suffocated because of the sun’s onslaught or because of thoughts that run through your head. It’s surrounding you, breathing it in, it fills your lungs, courses through your veins, rushes to your brain—you don’t know what it is, but it’s uncomfortable and has you dizzy and your vision foggy.

You lean against a thick lamppost next to you, hands on your knees as you knit your eyebrows together as sweat beads down your forehead. What the fuck, you think as you breathe in through your nose.

You hear your own name bounce around in your head, and the sound only grows louder and louder until you’re muttering under your breath, telling yourself to shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up. And there are tears in your eyes but you furiously wipe them away because while you don’t mind crying, you do mind crying if you don’t know why.

And fuck, there’s that voice again, your name echoing over and over again until it’s growing lowder and ringing in your ears. You think you might start crying again until the voice sounds familiar and you’re whipping your head up and standing straight when you see a car pull up to the curb next to you.

“Fuck my life,” you mumble to yourself when you see Minghao in the driver’s seat of the car. He rolls down the window and god, he looks so pretty with his hair back and upper body fit into a loose yellow shirt.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asks you, brows pinched into a concerned expression as he looks at you, face flushed and sheen from sweat.

“I—” You’re about to smile at him and let the giddiness of having your crush talk to you take over, but then the words get caught in your throat when you remember the whole reason you’re out here. “—I’m just going on a walk.”

“In this heat?” He raises a brow at you. “Where to? Let me give you a ride. You don’t look too well.”

“Nowhere really,” you say with a shrug. “Actually, I might just head back home,” you rush out, turning on your heel to walk in the other direction so Minghao can’t pry any further, but he stops you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he calls out, and you don’t have the willpower to ignore him. “Let me drive you home then. Seriously, you don’t look well—like you look like you’re ‘bout to pass out and shit—so just get in the car, please?” He says the last part with some sort of beggary etched onto his face and you just can’t deny him. Not now, not ever.

Pulling the door open, your limbs feel heavy as you climb into the car, air much cooler and fresher than outside. Leaning your head against the headrest, you let your eyes flutter shut as Minghao starts the car.

“Are you seriously okay? You look—”

“Sick, I know. I look sick,” your grumble, eyes still shut. You wonder if you should tell him Jun just told you everything.

“I’m sorry,” and you can tell from the way his voice doesn’t waver that he means it.

“Jun told me about Korea.”

“Oh.” Yeah, very big oh. “Just now?” You nod. “Is that why you were out here?” You nod again, finally opening your eyes.

“Hey, this isn’t the way to my house.”

Minghao keeps his eyes on the road. “C’mon, let’s get some pop,” he says, ignoring your statement and driving into the parking lot of a convenience store. He unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out his end, not saying a word, and you figure that you have no other choice but to follow.

Any other situation and you’d be grinning about spending some time alone with Minghao, but after hearing Jun tell you that he’s going to be traveling hundreds of miles and flying over borders within the next two months has your stomach churning in a way you don’t like.

You don’t know if you want to spend all the hours of the day with Jun and Minghao, or if you want to crawl up in your bed and pretend they don’t exist so it’ll hurt less when they’re gone. You feel stupid for thinking like this—you know it’s going to hurt either way.

You’re lost in your own thoughts as you walk into the store after Minghao, only snapped back into the present when he says something to you. “Hey, those are your jeans that you wore when we first did karaoke right?’

You blink once and then twice before looking down at your pants. They were those same jeans. “Yeah, how’d you know?” you ask him incredulously, and Minghao chuckles as he reaches into the cooler and pulls out a pink popsicle.

“I remember the flowers and how they matched your pink jacket. It was cute,” he says casually, and you hope he doesn’t catch onto the way your fingers twiddle together nervously and you avert your gaze. “Anyways, you like Cola right?” he clarifies when reaching into the drink fridge near the cooler. You nod shyly, thanking him quietly when he hands you a can.

As you make your way to the cash register, you fish around in your pockets for a few moments hoping you’ll dig up a dollar bill or something but then Minghao’s hand is on your wrist and he shakes his head with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover it.” He turns back so quickly you don’t have time to protest because he’s already sticking his card into the machine, throwing the cashier a thumbs up and walking out the store without a word.

“I could’ve paid for myself, y’know,” you grumble, following behind Minghao, watching to see where he’s headed. You think he’s going to get back into his car, but instead he plops down on the street curb, sitting on the ground. You just look at him for a few moments, contemplating what to do for a few moments before joining his side.

“Yeah, but I wanted to pay for it.”

The sun is bright and it beads down on you relentlessly, but you don’t complain. You both sit in silence as you both tend to your snacks—Minghao tries to lap up his popsicle quickly now that you’re out in the heat and you try to drink as much of your Cola as you can before it grows lukewarm. The air grows thick between you.

You can’t find the right words to say. You suppose there aren’t any right words or any wrong words, and that you can say just about anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Glancing at Minghao who takes a lick of his pink popsicle, you feel that uneasy feeling swarm inside of your chest.

You could kiss him right now. You could press your mouth against his sticky lips and lap at the sugar against his tongue. You could hold his face and run your fingers through his hair and cradle the nape of his neck. You could do anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Minghao, after all, was leaving.

But you’re scared and Minghao is mature and his dreams are big and he’s brave.

Your eyes linger on his plush lips for no longer than a second before you shamefully look down at the Cola in your hands, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.

“You’ll remember this place, right? Like—if you get big and famous and stuff, you two won’t forget, right?” you resort to asking. You say ‘this place,’ but really, you mean ‘me.’ You don’t want to be forgotten.

Minghao watches you with his eyes clouded with something you can’t really make out. “Of course we won’t. We’ll remember forever.” Absentmindedly, you trace figure-eights into the top of your can of pop, and Minghao catches the motion.

Using his own finger, he traces the figure of the number eight over the cement of the curb. “See. Like infinity, y’know?”

You purse your lips together and nod, your mind going dizzy. “Can we … can we go?” you mumble softly, gripping the can in your hand. “I think the heat kinda got to me.” It’s not entirely a lie.

Minghao doesn’t question you, polishing off his popsicle and tossing it into the trash before unlocking the door so you can take the silent ride home.

Jun and Minghao flew out two months ago. You went with your family and Minghao’s family to bid goodbyes. It’s not like you wouldn’t see them again—give or take a few months and Jun would be back at home, but he’d have to leave again. And again. And again.

It’s sad, you think, as you slump against Yiren on some random person’s couch. You miss them so much, but when you think about Jun and Minghao, all you can see is the hard work they’ve put into going where they’re headed.

You feel selfish as you bring a cup up to your lips. You feel pathetic and lame and if you weren’t already drunk, you’d be wallowing in self pity as well. The alcohol tastes just as bitter as your feelings, and while you wince when you gulp it down, you don’t hesitate to let some more run down your throat.

Yiren watches you worriedly when you clutch her arm and shut your eyes tight. “I miss them,” you whisper, and she doesn’t know if you’re talking to her or to yourself. She strokes your hair and coos to you about taking you to lie down somewhere.

Your head spins as she helps you stand, letting the cup fall to the ground, not bothering to pick it up. Yiren pulls you into an empty bedroom and sits you on the bed. “Drink this,” she instructs, handing you a bottle of water.

“Yiren, I miss them,” you repeat yourself.

“I know, I know you do. Do you want to go home? I’ll drive you and—”

“No, you go have fun. I just need to sit down for a sec,” you tell her, letting your back fall onto the mattress. Yiren gives you a warning look, but you shoo her off. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She looks like she wants to protest, but you both know you’re on a one track mind right now.

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Yiren begs as she walks away and closes the door behind her. You’re still dizzy, but not nearly as bad as before. Sitting up, you glance around the room. It’s simple—probably a guest room in whoever’s house this is. Also probably why the door was unlocked in the first place.

You feel you might pass out until your eyes land on an open notebook on a table in the corner of the room. You don’t think twice before standing up and ripping a sheet out, scrambling for a pen.

DEAR MINGHAO

I’m drunk right now. I miss you and I miss Jun. I hope when you guys come back again, we can go to that karaoke place again and sing to Radiohead. I’ve expanded my taste you know—my favorite song is Fake Plastic Trees now, and I even got a record player just so I could play the vinyl for it. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.

When you come back, we should really go there again. Yiren’s been getting really tired of me singing Creep every time, so I need a new duo partner. And she’s leaving too, so there’s that.

I really want to kiss you right now, but you’re in Korea.

I miss Jun a lot too. I think I hate you for it. He’s my brother but somehow you get to see him more and talk to him more and be with him more. Sometimes I call him and it’s for less than five minutes and I hear your voice in the background and I don’t know if I want to listen to you speak forever or strangle you so you can never talk again. I get that Jun is busy, and that you’re busy, but you guys get to be busy together.

Yiren told me she’s probably going to go to college out of the country next year. I’m going to miss her like hell. I think I already miss her, and so I drag her to karaoke with me so she won’t ever forget about me and Radiohead and how garbage I am at singing Creep.

Jun says he’s going to come visit home in two months, and that you might come along. I didn’t know home was a place you only visit, but I guess being an idol changes you. I probably sound super bitter right now. I’m not. Maybe I’m upset that you guys are gone, but I really am happy for you.Jun is happy, and you’re happy, and I’m so happy you have each other.

It’s hard to focus on your exam—halfway through your degree and you still get the jitters every time you step into the testing hall. It’s probably the nerves. And the caffeine. And the fact that you’ll be seeing your brother and Minghao in three hours.

It’s mainly the third that has your leg bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you jot down your answers. The exam takes longer than you’d like to finish, but as soon as you’ve finished the final question, you’re bolting out of the large room and toward the parking lot.

Connecting your phone to your car, you call Jun as you back out of the parking spot. “Hey, you guys at the airport?” you ask when you hear him pick up.

“Yeah, we’re just getting out right now but there’s kind of a crowd so it might take a while to just get to the car.”

“I forgot you guys are, like, famous,” you mutter jokingly. “Where’re you headed first? Minghao’s place first?”

“Yeah probably. He’s gonna see his parents and stuff first and then I’ll go to Mom and Dad’s house, so you can just come there.”

“Okay … we’re still good for our dinner plans, right?”

“Yeah, actually I was wondering if Minghao could tag along,” Jun says, and you can hear some muffled shouting from the other side.

“Oh okay, yeah su—”

“Hey, look, there’s a lot of people here and I can’t hear much so just text me your response and I’ll get to you in a second,” Jun tells you quickly as the shouting grows louder. He hangs up soon after and you sigh heavily as you start driving to your parents house.

The ride is quiet but you’re happy to be met with gleeful parents when you get to their place. You’re all a bit spirited at the prospect of Jun coming home, so when you hear the old ringing of the door bell, you’re bolting to the door and swinging it open, jumping into his arms.

“What happened to ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” Jun teases as he hugs you close, awkwardly trying to shuffle into the house. You poke your tongue out at him when you finally unwind your arms from around him.

“Hi. Hello. How are you? You seem obnoxious, as always,” you shoot back, and Jun only grins, pinching your cheek tightly.

“Oh how I missed my little insane sister,” he says before moving onto your parents, enveloping them in hugs as you all begin to settle down in the living room. The four of you spend a few hours catching up with Jun before he excuses himself to freshen up so he can get ready for your plans for the evening.

When he comes back all ready, you’re pulling out your keys from your purse and waving bye to your parents, promising them you’ll stop by the next morning as you and your brother make your way to the door.

“See you later!” Jun calls out before closing the front door behind him and following you to your car. Minghao’s house is close by, no more than a five minute drive, and it’s quiet as you take the familiar roads through the town to get there.

“Should we go in?” you ask when you park in Minghao’s driveway. “You haven’t seen his parents in a while, have you?”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. C’mon, let’s go.” You both slip out of the car and make your way to the front door. Minghao’s mother opens the door and you spend a few minutes exchanging greetings and catching up before Minghao is stepping out, clad in some black jeans and a grey hoodie.

He smiles when he sees you, pulling you into a hug, giving you a chance to feel the slightly damp hair against your cheek and the woody smell that always reminds you of him. “Hey, how’s it been?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I-I’m good,” you say shyly.

“Let’s talk more in the car, yeah?” Jun suggests, turning back to Minghao’s parents to give them a hug before you all wave your goodbyes and get into your car.

“Where’re we headed?” Jun asks, as you back out of the driveway. Jun sits in the passenger seat while Minghao slips into the back.

“It’s this new place—opened just a few months ago so I doubt you’d have gone there yet,” you tell him as you start driving.

“Is it the place next to the cafe?” Minghao asks you, and you nod excitedly.

“Yeah … how’d you know?”

“My mom told me about it, and said I should try it out. I guess now’s my chance, huh.”

“Yeah! It’s really good, I hope you both like it,” you say, reaching over to the AUX controls to flick on one of your playlists. “Okay guys … are you ready?” you warn, watching Minghao’s eyes brighten through the mirror.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you guys are going to sign Creep again—” Jun starts to groan, but you reach over and press a finger over his lips to shut him up.

“Quiet,” Minghao hisses to his friend, scooting forward in his seat so you’re in his view, placing his hands under your headrest. His fingers brush against the back of your neck and you’re scared you might crash the car from the way his touch makes you shiver. Fuck, more than half a damn decade and you still can’t fight it off. “Turn it up,” he instructs from behind, and you can only grin as you reach over and pump up the volume.

The deep rumble of snare and guitar echoes through the car as the song starts and you already feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. So when the first lines of, ‘when you were here before,’ leave your lips, you aren’t sure if you feel your heart mending itself, or if it’s salt being poured on the wound.

Because from behind you is Minghao’s voice, so deep and velvety and angelic it has you almost in a trance. He’s been good at singing, always, but now his voice sounds … mature, and developed and … and you love it.

You think back to the first time you sang Creep with him, and the lyrics already have you reminiscing when you both sing, ‘couldn’t look you in the eye,’ because goddammit you still struggle to look at Minghao for too long because you’re scared you’ll get lost.

And when it gets to the part before the bass is blaring in your ears, Minghao and you are singing, ‘I wish I was special, you’re so fuckin’ special,’ at the top of your lungs and you can’t help but let the irony sink in.

Now you’re pretty sure when Thom wrote Creep, he didn’t mean it to be about your love life, especially not the non-existent one between you and your brother’s best friend, but Thom is speaking to you right now, and you wonder if Minghao can hear the way you’re singing from your heart. How you’re singing for him.

When the song comes to an end, Minghao’s fingers brush over the nape of your neck one last time before he retreats back into his seat. You try to not mull on the feeling any longer, shaking your head of all of those thoughts when you near the restaurant.

“Here it is!” you chirp, parking the car on the curb. The three of you shuffle out of the car casually, making your way to the entrance.

“Looks nice,” Minghao comments as he opens the door for you and Jun. Your brother hops in merrily and you and Minghao both share a soft smile as you go inside too, your body nearly jerking when you feel his hand on the small of your back as he follows behind you.

His touch is warm and gentle and—fuck, does he know what he’s doing to you right now?

You’re more relieved than anything when he finally lets his arm drop, the three of you making your way to the table you booked. You were scared that if Minghao stayed close any longer, he’d be able to feel your heart beating through your chest.

You guys sit down at the table, Jun next to you while Minghao settles across the two of you. “So how’s your classes going?” he asks you as you look through the menu. “Jun said you had an exam today, right?”

“Yeah, it was my final one,” you tell him with a sigh of relief. “It was stressful preparing for it but it went better than I thought.”

“Good to hear,” Minghao says as a waiter comes along to pick up on your orders. After he leaves, Jun turns to you.

“What’s Yiren up to?” Jun asks you curiously. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.”

“She’s, uh, she’s good,” you reply. “I haven’t seen her in a while either … she went off to college in Korea, remember?”

Minghao chuckles, “Seems like everyone’s going there, huh? Maybe you should pull up too.”

You scrunch up your face and shake your head while you take a sip of water. “I think I like this place too much to leave. Plus, who’s going to take care of our old folks if I leave too?” you tease, nudging your brother in the side.

“Mom and Dad can take care of themselves just fine,” Jun shrugs, ruffling your hair as the waiter brings along some food.

“Looks good,” Minghao says, holding up some chopsticks as you all look down at the sizzling dishes in front of you.

“It is! See?” you say pointedly, looking up at Jun. “Imagine I moved to Korea—I wouldn’t be able to eat this.” Your brother only rolls his eyes and Minghao and you laugh together while you dig in.

As you work through your meal and catch each other up on your lives, Minghao eventually leans back in his seat and sighs heavily. “I’m really craving something sweet right now.”

“I’d say we should pick up some pastries from the cafe next door but they closed two hours ago,” you say sadly.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that place. They made the best chocolate buns ever,” Jun mutters to himself, polishing off his plate.

“Let’s go to the cafe tomorrow evening, yeah?” Minghao suggests as he takes a sip of water. At the suggestion, you chew at your lip.

“Uh, I don’t think I can go then,” you say, hoping they won’t pry any further.

Of course, your brother doesn’t allow you a second of peace. “Why not? Your last exam was today, right?”

“Yeah, but I have stuff to do,” you reply nonchalantly. Jun scoffs and tugs your ear, causing you to whine. “What was that for?!”

“You didn’t clear your schedule out for me? I thought you missed me! You know I have to leave in like a week,” he complains, and you and Minghao share an amused look as you nudge Jun on the side.

“Relax, you can have me in the morning and afternoon and everything … I just have to go somewhere for the evening.”

“You’re being really ominous about this, you know,” Jun retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where’re you going?”

You chew on your tongue, contemplating if this is the right moment to bring it up, or if you should even tell Jun and Minghao this at all. “I just have to see someone.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jun groans. “You’re literally asking me to pry. Tell me who—a boyfriend?” You chuckle nervously, eyes flickering between Minghao and your brother, shaking your head.

“No—not a boyfriend,” you say dryly, scoffing at the irony. “Remember Renjun? I told you about him when I was in freshman year.”

“Vaguely. Remind me who he is again?”

“He’s just a guy, and he has some of my stuff I need to pick up.” Both Minghao and Jun cock an eyebrow at you after that. “What?” you huff, leaning back in your seat.

“An ex?” Minghao asks and your face burns.

“I—yeah,” you say casually. “An ex.”

Jun frowns deeply. “I didn’t know you and Renjun ever dated. I didn’t even know you ever had a boyfriend,” he says, voice evidently upset that he was left out of this.

“It wasn’t that serious,” you pat his shoulder as to soften the blow. “Plus it happened when you were on tour—we hardly talked then.”

“Still! You could’ve told me!” You bite back a, ‘But could I really?’ because this isn’t the time or place for that.

“It’s whatever. I just need to pick up some stuff I left at his place and—”

“So it ended pretty recently then?” Minghao piques, and your eyebrows furrow, slightly annoyed by both of their belated interest in your love life.

“What, no! It’s been months and—wait, I don’t see how that’s any of your guys’ business,” you huff and Minghao backs off a little, but Jun still stays curiously leaning in.

“Whatever. You’ll be available to come with us to the lake on Friday though, right?” Jun asks, pulling out his phone and holding it up to your face to show you a picture of a lake house. “I booked a place to stay the night and all.”

“Of course I’m going to come—I’ve been looking forward to it!”

“Good,” Jun says gruffly, still somewhat glaring at you.

You give him a funny look. “What?”

“I’m still mad you never told me—you’re supposed to tell me this stuff! How else am I supposed to know that you’re doing fine on your own and actually growing up.”

“Oh my god, Jun, I’m an adult! Did you think I would never have boyfriends?”

“No! At least not without telling me!”

You chuckle and Minghao follows in suit, enjoying the little sibling bicker. “Okay fine. I’m sure I’ll be telling you every detail of my love life when it gets resurrected.”

Minghao snorts at your use of words, and you revel in the way the sound makes you feel. Fuck it, it’s been more than half a decade and you still get butterflies—you can’t fight away the feeling, so you might as well wallow in it.

You wonder what Jun would think about this—your love life being pulled and shaken by his own best friend. Oh well, some secrets are best kept hidden anyways.

“Here’s your stuff,” Renjun says softly, handing you a paper bag that’s stuffed with a wide array of your belongings.

“Thank you. Is my pink jacket in there? I’ve been looking for it for a while and I didn’t know if I left it at yours,” you ask timidly, holding the paper bag close to your chest.

He scratches the back of his head as he steps back, nodding. “Uh, yeah I think it’s at the bottom.” You peer down at the contents of your back, and give a half smile when you see the pink cloth peeking out from underneath.

“Thanks for taking care of my stuff. I know you’ve basically moved out and all.”

“No worries. Do you, uh, need a ride home or anything? It’s pretty cold.”

You purse your lips at the offer, but shake your head. “It’s fine …” There’s an awkward silence and you quickly wonder if you should say anything more. Renjun looks awfully … apologetic right now and you feel there’s some more you can say. “How’s your new place? Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, I flew up there a few weeks back to get some of my main stuff shipped. A nice apartment, way bigger than whatever I had here,” he says with an awkward chuckle. You appreciate the effort.

Nodding, you tighten your grip on the bag. “That’s good to hear. I hope it all goes well with you. I … I think I’ll be taking my leave now. My brother’s back in town so …”

“Oh yeah, I heard from Jianing. Hope you’re having a good time—I know you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Thank you. Anyways, I’m gonna get going now. Thanks again,” you say as you step back, throwing out a small wave.

A half-hearted, “See you,” leaves Renjun’s lips as you turn on your heel and start walking back to the bus station. There’s no promise of seeing Renjun later, or ever again, and something cold sinks in your stomach at the thought.

The thought that this all could’ve been avoided if Renjun hadn’t gotten that stupid job offer hundreds of miles away. If he didn’t decide to pack his bags and fly away just like Jun, like Yiren, like Minghao. Renjun was leaving, just like everyone else.

You clutch the paper bag close to your chest as you make your way to the bus stop, one hand fumbling in the pocket of your jacket as you search for your wallet and within seconds you’re a frantic mess. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Shit, shit, shit!” you cry out when you drop your bag and pat frantically over your pockets to try and feel for your wallet.

Your digging into every crook of the coat and there’s a growing feeling of dread that washes over you once you realize that you lost your fucking wallet. Hands clenched at your side, you feel hot tears well up in your lash line as you stare down at the ground, letting in the shitty events of today sink in.

You don’t even know why you’re crying now. It’s hardly even cries, really, you’re downright sobbing as you plop down on the curb of the empty street, fumbling with your phone as you pull up Jun’s contact. Pressing the phone to your ear, you shut your eyes tight in an attempt to calm down your breath, but when you hear the line go dead you cry even harder, realizing that Jun is probably napping right now.

“Fuck my life,” you complain to yourself, letting your head hang low as you scroll through your phone. You aren’t even sure what compels you to click on him but before you know it you’re on speaker as you hear the buzzing of the phone as you wait for Minghao to pick up.

One ring. Maybe he’s busy.

Two rings. He might be looking for his phone.

Three rings. He probably won’t pick up.

Four rings, and you’re about to hang up but then it stops. “Minghao?”

Minghao’s voice is cool and calm when he says your name. “Do you—”

“I need your help,” you say so quietly you aren’t sure if he’ll be able to hear it. And then Minghao hears it: your soft pants and shaky breath and something about the sound has him squeezing his phone tightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m—” No, I feel like shit and I’m freezing my ass off and it’s so cold and I need you to help me. “Can you pick me up? I lost my wallet which has my bus card. I’m sorry, I know it’s a little late and you’re probably busy but—”

“Send me your location.”

Minghao is pulling up in his black car within twenty minutes and by then you’ve had enough time to wipe the tears from your face and piece together yourself to look presentable. Rolling down the windows as you wave over to his car, you hear the doors click and you’re roughly yanking on the door and throwing your stuff and yourself in.

Minghao raises a brow at your ruckus, asking once again, “Are you okay?” When you only sigh heavily, buckling yourself up, you hope Minghao will just leave it alone. You’d rather not talk about the stupid breakdown you just had in front of your childhood crush.

Minghao clearly doesn’t get the message, so when he starts the engine again, he murmurs, “Have you been crying?” You purse your lips together tightly as if the question itself as the tears bubbling up to the surface once again. “Did meeting with Renjun not go well?” You’re surprised he remembers his name—Minghao was never great with names. “Can you say something? I’m worried.”

“Sorry,” you say softly, letting your shoulder drop down, and from the corner of your vision you see Minghao watching you carefully. “I-I just got overwhelmed. And it was cold. Really cold. And then—” You take a shaky breath. “—and I lost my fucking wallet on top of it and it’s all so shitty and—”

His hand is on your shoulder and you hardly realize that Minghao has pulled over and parked so he can turn to face you. You’re crying again and you don’t even know how this fucking happened, all you know is that there’s so much going on in your head and Minghao is right there, he’s so close but then again, he’s so far.

“Hey, hey calm down for a sec’,” he says calmly, gripping your arm firmly. “Breathe slowly, and tell me what happened.”

You inhale sharply through your nose and scrunch your face up as you bury your head in your hands. In your right mind, you wouldn’t even think about telling Minghao about what’s on your mind but it’s been a really terrible past hour and you can’t control yourself.

“Renjun’s leaving. Didn’t want to do long distance and so he’s gone and—fuck, I don’t even blame him but why’d he have to leave,” you ramble, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as Minghao pats your back gently.

“Did he say something to you when you met with him?” he asked, tone laced with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m just—are you o—okay please don’t cry.”

You don’t know why, but Minghao telling you to cry only makes the tears fall faster. “And Yiren—” you hiccup, “Yiren left too, I haven’t seen her in months and Jun a-a-and you—you’ve all been gone.” You don’t realize when Minghao grabs both your shoulders and forces you to face him completely.

“Slow down, please. No one’s left you, we’re all going to be here for you, you know that. Did Renjun say something which made you think like this?” he asks, the grip on your shaking shoulders growing tighter as you desperately try to steady yourself.

“N-no, but you’re not here. I hardly ever get to see my own brother and Yiren and you and Renjun and everything is so shitty I just—” you cry out and suddenly you stumble forward in the seat and before you know it Minghao’s arms are around you.

It’s not like you haven’t hugged him before but this is the first time you’re blubbering into his shoulder about your feelings, and if you weren’t so sad, you’d be fucking appalled. His warm hand is on your back, rubbing up and down slowly until you’ve finally found the conscience to actually breathe and realize just what’s going on.

Slowly, you pull away from Minghao’s hold, furiously wiping away at your face to dry yourself, looking down at your lap bashfully. “I am so sorry, what the fuck, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you blurt out when Minghao drops his hands from your shoulder. You miss the warmth, but you’re quite very embarrassed with yourself and don’t have the will to chase after his touch.

“Please don’t apologize,” Minghao replies softly, watching you with wide eyes. “That … was a lot and—”

“I’m sorry, look, I was just having a shitty day and it all piled up and you just—I don’t know I guess, let’s just pretend this never happened,” you beg with him. Minghao’s face looks like he wants to say more, but you really can’t tell with the way his eyes are clouded.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me.”

You gulp at the irony. No, you really can’t. You can’t tell Minghao anything, really, because even after crying and sobbing and wailing in his car he still looks at you with so much care and it has these stupid fucking butterflies erupting in your stomach like you’re fifiteen with a massive crush on your brother’s best friend.

“Can you just please drive me to my place?” you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I think I just really need to sleep.”

You can tell Minghao still has questions, but you don’t seem too willing to answer them so he doesn’t say anything when he nods and turns back to the road. The ride is silent, and when he finally parks he pats your shoulder.

You look out the window and furrow your eyebrows. “This isn’t my apartment complex …” you tell him, confused as you see a convenience store in front of you. The same one.

“C’mon, I know you love pop,” he says casually, unbuckling his seatbelt leaving you with no other choice to follow behind him. There’s an odd sense of deja vu that envelopes over you, shoving your pockets into your jacket shyly.

“Remember the last time we were here?” Minghao asks with a chuckle as you guys walk into the store.

“Don’t remind me,” you murmur. “That was a shitty day.”

Minghao gives you a nervous smile as he pulls out a can from the fridge and hands it to you, grabbing his own bottle as well. “Yeah, but Cola made it better, right?”

“I guess it did. Cola always makes things better,” you admit. “Hey, fuck you,” you say jokingly when Minghao pulls out his wallet. “You should’ve taken me here another time when I actually had my wallet—I need to pay you back for that day!” you whine with a pout. “Now I’m in debt to you twice! You’ve bought me two Colas!”

Minghao rolls his eyes playfully as he pays for the drinks. “Yeah well things are different now, and I’m pretty sure my wallet doesn’t care about the cost of two Colas.”

“Is Mr. Big and Famous too good for my money now?” you huff when you step back outside, opening your Cola. “I will pay you back, no matter how stupidly rich you get.”

“I’ll have to hold you to that,” Minghao laughs as you slip back into his car. The air is lighter as he drives you back to your place for real this time, and the lingering feeling of pop on your tongue is sweet and fun.

“Thank you for the ride. And the Cola,” you add when he’s in front of your building.

“You remember what I said?”

You nod as you step out of the car, picking up your brown bag. “Thank you so much for this. I’m sorry again.”

“Stop apologizing. Is there … is there anything else I can do? You want another Cola perhaps?”

“Very funny, but I don’t think I want to be jumping off the walls tonight …” you answer, closing the door but still peering through the open window. You think for a second as you chew your lip, nodding when you come up with something. “But do me a favor … don’t tell Jun.”

Jun takes you out to the lake house he booked three mornings after you met with Renjun and sobbed to Minghao in his car. It’s a refreshing turn of events, if you’re being honest, and you’re eager to sink into a relaxing weekend after a stressful exam season.

Your brother drives the three hours on the way with the promise of you driving on the way home hung over your head. When you reach the house—a medium sized cabin perched right by the lake and surrounded by trees and mountains—you’re greeted with the sight of Minghao sitting in his car and scrolling on his phone.

As you and Jun pile out of the car and grab your bags, Minghao comes out too, walking toward you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Thought you guys would never come. If you were gonna be late you should’ve just given me the keys to this place,” he says with a huff.

“Don’t blame me,” Jun shrugs, locking the car after you’ve both taken out your stuff, walking up to the cabin’s entrance. “She’s the one who wanted to stop and buy some pop.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want it either,” you retort, reaching into your tote bag to hand Minghao a can of Cola. “Here,” you offer with a smile which he returns gleefully.

“Okay actually, totally valid reason,” Minghao says, flicking open the can before taking a sip.

“Hey! Don’t be on her side,” Jun whines as he opens up the cabin. Minghao and you chuckle together, your heart warming at the sound as you three start to load your things into the house. Minghao doesn’t say anything about that night when he picked you up, and for that much you’re grateful. This much, you can manage.

By the time you all have settled your things into your respective rooms it’s noon and the sun pummels down with admirable strength. As you stick your head out of your room, you catch Jun making his way down the hallway toward the bathroom.

“You going for a swim?” you ask, gesturing down to your swimsuit that you’ve already eagerly put on.

“Nah, I’m gonna go later. I need to take a call right now,” he says with a sigh and you nod, about to retreat back to your room before Minghao walks out of his own room.

“I’ll go if you’re going,” Minghao tells you casually, and you don’t waste a second to nod. “Give me five so I can get changed and then we can go out.”

You jump down the hall excitedly after he closes the door behind him, making your way to the backyard porch which leads into a deck over the lake. As you place your towel on one of the chairs outside, you hear the sliding door open.

Minghao walks out shirtless, lower half only covered with his swim trunks as he runs a hand through his shaggy hair, shaking his head lightly as he makes his way towards you, placing his towel next to yours. “Thanks for waiting … shit, it’s hot as hell,” he murmurs, and you’re thankful that you’re facing away from him right now—you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle the proximity and the sight of his bare upper body.

“Yeah,” you agree, finally straightening your back and putting some distance between the two of you when you start walking towards the edge of the deck. “The water’s so clear,” you think out loud, looking down at the blue lake in front of you.

“It’s really pretty … you want a picture?” Minghao suggests, walking up behind you.

“I would, but I left my phone inside.”

“Let’s just take it on my phone,” he says casually, holding up his phone in front of you, waving at you to step back a little so he can take a picture. “A candid one would look pretty with this view—like you’re looking out at the lake and stuff,” he begins to say, placing a smooth hand on your shoulder so he can manually turn you around so that you’re facing away from him.

When he lets his hand drop, it brushes over the curve of your hip and you have to bite down on your lip to stop the pathetic whimper that threatens to escape your lips. Luckily, Minghao can’t see the pained expression that makes its way onto your face as he steps back holding up his phone.

“Okay ready …” he calls out from further behind. “Three … two … one!” You hear a faint tapping sound as you still, letting Minghao take the pictures as you wait patiently. It takes a few moments, and you’re about to ask him how much longer he’s going to go at it before you hear the sound of something being dropped, and then a few rattling thuds.

“Minghao, what—” you begin to question as you slowly turn on your heel but by then it’s too late. “WHAT THE F—”

Your scream is cut off short when Minghao runs forward and lunges at you, one arm wrapping itself around your waist as he jumps into the water, bringing you down with him. The cool water of the lake hits your body and the wind gets punched out of your lungs as you feel your limbs entangle with his. Instinctevely, your arms tighten around one of his as your eyes press closed tightly as you feel your warm body start to level with the temperature around you.

And so even as your legs kick around for a few panicked moments, you begin to feel oddly at peace when your head finally reaches the surface of the water, Minghao’s hand still steady over your hips as you gasp for air.

“You’re a bitch for that,” you say, a few choked giggles escaping your lips as you do. Minghao finally unwinds his arm from yours, and while you miss the contact, his body is still dangerously close to yours, and you figure that that is already more than you can manage.

Minghao smiles gleefully, pushing his face so close that it’s right up in front of you. “Mm maybe, but it was really funny. Got it on video too.”

“What?!” you screech, swimming backward so quickly that you hit  your head on the wooden platform of the deck. “Crap!” you exclaim, hand immediately flying up to press against the throbbing crown of your head. Minghao’s eyes widen with concern as he wades his way towards you, tall enough to still have his feet touch the lake bottom unlike you.

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asks worriedly, his own hand coming up to feel the back of your head. His eyes are big and brown as he looks down at you, and for this moment, you forget about the dull ache and bask in the way the sun hits his skin so perfectly he glows.

“I’m fine!” you squeak quickly, letting your hand drop so you can tread in the water lightly, slowly moving a safe distance away from the deck.

“A-are you sure?” he probes, making his way to you, and you have a moment to admire him from afar—the way his hair is matted against his forehead and water drops gather at his lashes, making his eyes look prettier than ever.

You chuckle at the way his lips are pursed together apologetically, and you splash some water at him to lighten the mood. “Yes, Minghao, I’m great. I hardly hit myself.” Minghao’s face looks uneasy, and you laugh again.

It takes a few more minutes of you trying to convince him that you’re totally fine before he finally lets it go. Eventually, you find yourself on a big inflated duck-shaped floaty, laying down with your face up and eyes closed. You lose track of time, enjoying the white noise of Minghao splashing around in the water around you, drifting off into a hazy state until you hear a loud yell and feel yourself being flipped over and off your floaty.

“Jun!” you whine, rubbing your eyes as you furiously push hair off your face when you resurface, glaring at both Jun and Minghao laugh side by side. “You guys have to stop doing this to me,” you groan, eyes finally adjusting to its normal state.

“What are you talking about?” Jun asks innocently as you make your way over to the two of them, not bothering to turn your duck floatie back up right. “It was just an accident I fell on you—hey!” he yells out when you lunge at him. Minghao steps back quickly as you and Jun waddle and fight in the water, splashing water at each other while you try and get your revenge.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry,” Jun admits with a pout. “You didn’t do this to Minghao after he dunked you in the water,” he complains as you release him.

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“He sent me the video.”

“Minghao!” you exclaim, turning to the boy who is now treading around a meter in front of you. He only shrugs and grins cheekily.

“It was really funny,” Jun tells you with a laugh. “I might just post it on my story.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare.”

Jun only shakes his head and starts slowly swimming further into the lake. “Don’t worry—I wouldn’t do that. Minghao can’t have any dating rumors, now can he?”

You chew on your lip, not responding. Minghao doesn’t say anything either, only chuckling along with your brother as he follows after him. You aren’t sure what to say to that, and the comment leaves some uneasy feeling hanging in your stomach.

Fuck, maybe you did hit your head hard.

You three spend a good few hours out in the lake until it’s evening. It’s a slow day and you start to realize just how much you missed spending time with your brother and Minghao like this—it isn’t often they get the opportunity to do things like this, so you’re grateful that they decided to share some of their few days of peace with you.

The second day is even hotter than the first, and you wake from your sleep early in the morning when the sky is still blooming with purple and orange hues. Crawling out from your bed, you make your way downstairs. If it was just you and your brother, you wouldn’t be so mindful about keeping your noise levels down because god knows that Jun can sleep through just about anything, but, Minghao is with you guys now, and you’d hate to sour his experience even just a little by accidentally waking him up for being too loud.

So you can imagine your surprise when you walk into the kitchen to see Minghao already leaning against the counter as he scrolls through his phone. He hasn’t noticed you and you contemplate leaving it like that for a few moments.

He’s wearing a tight fit, black, sleeveless top that shows off the curve of his shoulders and lets the sparkle of his silver chain glint under the morning light. Minghao is attractive—you and the millions of people in his comments know that—and you feel an odd sense of pride well up in your stomach that you’re one of the few people who get to see him like this.

With his hair messy and brushing over his eyes, legs crossed over each other as he presses his body weight against the kitchen island, bare skin glowing from the natural light, he’s beautiful.

Your face heats up when you realize you’ve just been staring at him, so you quickly clear your throat. “Good morning,” you chirp, walking into the kitchen so he can finally see you.

Minghao looks up from his phone, tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants to greet you with a smile. “Hey, I didn’t know you were up. How’s your head doing?” he asks shyly, walking over to casually run his hand over that same spot on the crown of your head.

It’s an oddly intimate gesture, and if you didn’t know any better, your heart might have given out from the way he was touching you. Still, you know he’s just checking to see if it’s swollen, but your heart flutters anyways.

“I-it’s fine,” you reply, opening the fridge to pull out some orange juice as his hand drops. “I didn’t know you were an early riser. Jun always sleeps in whenever he gets the chance.”

“Yeah, well that’s why he’s paged as a literal cat by everyone,” Minghao says with a chuckle as you place a jug on the counter. “Do you want some tea? I’m just boiling the water now so I can add some more if you want.”

“Sure, that’ll be nice.” You pour yourself some orange juice. “Do you want to eat something? I brought some cupcakes to have for breakfast,” you offer, reaching into one of the bags you didn’t unpack to pull out a box.

“Are they those cupcakes?”

“Yup—the one and only!” you exclaim, opening the lid to show him. Minghao grins, pulling two out.

“God, I missed these. Y’know, Jun actually gave your recipe to Mingyu too, but he just doesn’t make them the same,” Minghao tells you, and your eyes light up.

“Really? Poor Mingyu,” you say with a sigh.

“If you ever end up visiting us in Korea, you should really make some,” Minghao suggests as he goes to take care of the boiling water, dropping some tea leaves into it before moving the water into a pot. Then, pulling out two small cups and plates, he says, “Me and Jun have told the others about how good you make them, but they really need to try them.”

“I’d love to,” you say with a grin, giddy with the way Minghao is boosting your ego. As he pours out the tea into two mugs, you put the cupcakes on the small plates, looking out to the glass sliding door which leads to the porch by the lake. “You want to eat outside? The sky looks really beautiful now, and the weather looks like it’s nice too.”

Minghao nods, holding up the two mugs while you grab the plates and follow him outside and onto the little shaded porch where you sit by two of the chairs and the small, knee level coffee table. The sky is still deep in its changing colors, and you pull out your phone to take some pictures.

“Can you take some pictures of me? For my WeVerse and Instagram and stuff?” he asks when you’re done, holding out his phone in your direction.

“Yeah, of course.” Leaning back after you grab his phone, you position yourself as Minghao poses. “Lean back a little more so the background can—yeah, perfect …” You take a few photos, and Minghao nods happily when you show him.

“Can you take some more candid ones?”

“Sure, let’s switch spots. I think it’ll look nicer if it looks like you’re looking out to the lake from here,” you suggest, getting up from your seat. Minghao complies without protest and you spend a few more minutes taking some pictures before finally handing him the phone. “You like them?”

“Hell yeah I do,” he says, looking through his phone. “You’re great at this,” he compliments sincerely.

“I’m used to taking the kinda pictures you guys like now … Jun has trained me well,” you joke, sitting back in the seat and reaching for your own cup of tea. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both relax and watch the sky grow brighter by the minute.

Jun wakes up an hour later, trudging out his room with groggy eyes as you poke fun of him. The morning is slow for a short while after that before Minghao is reminding you all that you need to start heading back home. The two of them are leaving for Korea in two days, after all, and that leaves them with only today and tomorrow to completely bask in themselves and the rest of their family, so you pack your things and end your stay at the cabin before the clock hits noon.

That night, after you drive yourself and Jun home and you retreat to the comfort of your apartment, you flop down onto your couch and pull out your phone. You’re met with a few notifications from WeVerse and Instagram, casually scrolling through the apps when your eyes catch a few familiar pictures.

It’s on Instagram and you recognize the bright orange of the rising sky that sits behind Minghao who is smiling into the camera. The next picture is a candid one of him looking at the lake while he drinks some tea, and the third is a picture of the cupcake you made.

You grin at the picture—the rest of the world won’t know it, but you definitely do—it’s a little piece of you that Minghao is sharing with the world. Though, you aren’t sure if he put as much thought into it as you are right now.

Brushing it off as Minghao just wanting to share a pretty picture of a nice looking cupcake, you purse your lips together only for them to be parted when you read his caption.

i’m a weirdo

Scrolling through the comments, you come across people saying, many among the following:

ur not a weirdo >:c fellow radiohead fanatic i see is the8 a certified creep? o: i didn’t know minghao liked radiohead … another reason to stan!

As you ignore the increased palpitating of your heart at the idea that Minghao quoted a line from, in your opinion, “your guys’ song.” you sit and think for a moment about what to do. You consider just liking the post and scrolling past it before a funny thought crosses your mind, and so you start typing into the comments.

i wonder who took these pics lol

No one’s going to see it. Minghao is definitely not going to see it, but you giggle to yourself anyways. You’re about to put your phone down when you get a notification of a reply to your comment. Curious, you open it up, and see that it’s just a random person.

imagine it’s his gf

You laugh to yourself. You wish.

The last day or two with Jun goes as they always do when he’s here—slow, but all that you need. He spends his time at your parents house and you stop by for lunch and dinner the day after you both return from the lake house.

The afternoon, you both went down to the cafe and stocked up on chocolate buns—Jun’s request—and spent the rest of your time until evening going over your plans for the rest of the summer. You enjoy this part, always. Not Jun leaving—of course not—but spending these tame moments with him.

It makes you wonder what things would have been like if he never left. Maybe he’d move out for university someplace else, but you’d get to see him more, probably. Get to hang out with him every weekend, instead of every two months.

You shake yourself off the thought as you drive to your parents house. Having Jun around more often would be nice, but there isn’t any point in dreaming about the impossible.

As you pull up to the driveway and park your car, you notice Minghao standing out by the front door with his suitcase and a bag. “Hey, looking for Jun?”

“Well, yeah. Of course I wanna say bye to you both before you go … is the van here yet?”

“Nah, it’s still taking some time but Jun is on the other side of the house to see if the car is gonna come from that side,” he explains.

“I’m gonna miss you guys … you know when you’re both going to come next?” you ask, voice softer than you anticipated.

“I really don’t know—I’m sorry. You know how things are.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, shoulders deflating as you look down at the ground..

“I know—it’s not … it's not easy for Jun, either, I can tell. It isn’t easy for any of us to leave.” When Minghao finishes speaking you only nod, and as your eyes meet,you feel like there’s something he wants to say. “Hey,” he murmurs quietly.

A heavy hand is placed on your shoulder, and you feel you might as well sink to the ground and let the earth swallow you up. “If you’re going to talk about—”

“Hear me out, yeah?” Minghao cuts you off, and when you open your mouth in protest, he continues. “Don’t …” he inhales deeply before saying, “Don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, okay?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “That really depends on what you’re going to say.”

“Okay, just … just listen. Jun, and me, and Yiren, and Renjun—” God, why is he bringing this up? “—we aren’t trying to hurt you.”

“Of course I know that.” Your eyebrows knit together and Minghao sighs at your reaction, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You miss the touch, but your mind is a little too preoccupied with trying to decipher Minghao’s words to dwell on it.

“I’m just saying … you shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.” You open your mouth and then close it, trying to figure out how the hell he expects you to respond to this.

“What d’you mean?”

“Well I mean,” he huffs before continuing, shoving his hands in his pockets, “you obviously have been … upset about people leaving you and you can’t expect everyone to stick around forever.”

“If you’re talking about Renjun, he was my boyfriend. I think it’s okay for me to expect someone who I’m dating to ‘stick around,’ even though it might not be forever.”

“I guess, but it’s not just Renjun, right? Jun … Yiren … me …” he voice trails off.

“I basically spent my whole middle and high school years around you and Yiren, and Jun is literally my brother. Do you think me wanting the people I quite literally grew up around to be here for me is being ‘dependant?’”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I mean we were all going to grow up eventually? Look, don’t take this the wrong way and—”

“Excuse me?” you blurt out harshly, taking a step back, scoffing before you continue. “I wouldn’t be taking this the wrong way if you obviously didn’t mean it the wrong way. You basically just said I’m not independent.”

Minghao frowns at your reaction before responding, “I didn’t say that. I just said you shouldn’t depend on anyone.”

“Which implies that I am depending on people unnecessarily!”

Minghao adjusts his backpack straps as he says, “I mean you did cry for quite a while about how people are leaving you. I just don’t want you to get more hurt by being dependent on others.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you shoot sarcastically, “but I’m not dependent on anyone. I was upset that night because all the people closest to me have moved away and if you ask any normal person, I’m pretty sure they’d agree that that’s a valid reason to cry a little. So sorry if that was too much for you.” You say the last part with disgust laced on your tongue, and you watch Minghao’s face grow increasingly sour as you go on.

“Okay, now you’re just twisting my words,” Minghao huffs, glancing around to make sure that no one is close by.

“What the hell Minghao,” you scoff, clenching your fists at your side. You don’t want to be the person to jump down his throat, but you can’t help but feel like you’re being talked down to. “Why—why are you acting like I’m still a little kid. I’m more than Jun’s little sister, you do know that right?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Minghao retorts, eyebrows rising in a mix of disbelief and irritation. “You think that’s what this is about? For fuck’s sake I’m just looking out for you.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim, pointing an accusing finger at him. “There’s no reason for that! Like I said, I’m not some little girl anymore and I’ve been looking out for myself for years. You just happened to catch me in a moment where I let myself be sad about it which, again, is a totally valid thing to be sad about.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Well congratulations! You were unsuccessful,” you mumble out, feeling an ugly knot build up in your throat. “I trusted you,” you say softly, and Minghao looks at you with eyes so apologetic you almost think about forgiving him. “That night after I saw Renjun—I-I trusted you,” you add more harshly this time. “And I cried to you even though we haven’t properly spoken in fuck knows how long and you take all that and make me out to seem like some sort of defenseless kid—”

“Can you stop—you’re putting words into my mouth. I never said you were defenseless or not independent or anything like that—I don’t even know why you think I would think of you like that because you know that’s not true.”

“Minghao, I don’t know if you’ve realized but it’s been years since we've talked properly. Just because—” You take a deep breath before continuing your bitter words. “—just because you get to live your stupidly amazing life with my brother by your side doesn’t mean that you know me and that I know you, because clearly we don’t know each other at all!”

“I’m sorry?” he says exasperatedly. “Sorry I care about you or whatever, even though things have changed.”

You scowl, and in your right mind you wouldn’t let your next words slip out of your mouth. “Well don’t. I’ve been fine without your sympathy so far, I’m pretty sure I can go on a bit longer.”

Minghao is about to respond, you can tell from the way his hands fiddle at his sides, but then there’s a buzzing and you reach into your pocket to pull out your phone. “Hey Jun,” you say, answering the call without meeting Minghao’s gaze. “… Yeah, he’s with me, we’re just waiting for the car … okay I’ll tell him.”

Tucking the device back into your pocket, you look at Minghao. “Jun is asking for you on the other side of the house. You should go,” you say flatly and you can tell from the look on his face that he wants to say more, but holds back.

Grabbing his suitcase, he tears his eyes from you and doesn’t look back after saying, “See you,” walking away and around the corner of the street. There’s that similar chill that takes over your body when Minghao says the same words Renjun said just a few nights before, and you silently wonder if this is history repeating itself.

“So,” Yiren says as she plops down onto your couch, kicking her feet up onto your coffee table. “How’d meeting with Renjun go? He give you your shit back?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” you grumble as you walk over and nudge her legs to get her to put them down. “And you can’t just flop down and sit! Put your suitcase away so it’s not in the middle of the room,” you order, trying to be stern as Yiren sticks her tongue out at you.

“So bossy—your best friend is visiting your cute little abode and you can’t help her out with her stuff?” Yiren juts out her bottom lip into a pout as you sit next to her and wrap your arms around her waist, sinking into the couch. “Okay what’s going on. You’re being extra snappish …” she asks a bit more seriously, pulling away from your hold to get a better look at you. “Was it Renjun? Did he say something before he left?”

“No!” you say quickly, looking away bashfully, leaning back against the arm rest. You fucking wish you were in this sour mood because of Renjun because you could manage that. Renjun is gone, and it would hurt but you’d get over it.

You aren’t sure how long it’ll take to get over Minghao, if you ever do at all.

“Are you lying to me? You know I can tell when you’re not telling the truth.”

“I am telling the truth.” Just not all of it, you think to yourself.

Yiren sighs loudly, sitting up straight and facing you completely. “You are so bad at this. C’mon tell me—what’d he say? Or was it not Renjun—Jun? Which Jun was it? Did you and Jun fight?”

“I—”

“Like that one time two years ago and you didn’t talk to each other until he came back a month later and—”

You cringe at the memory, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Yiren don’t bring that up. I hated that.”

“Okay sorry,” she says sheepishly. “But seriously—what was it? Renjun? Jun? Which one? Or wait—Min—oh my gosh, don’t tell me it was Minghao!” When you take more than a second to respond, Yiren gasps. “Oh god, it was Minghao.”

She stands up quickly, looking down at your figure on the couch. Before you can say anything, she turns on her heel and walks towards your kitchen. “Hey, where are you going!” you call out to her, sitting upright.

Yiren doesn’t respond, only reaching into the fridge and pulling out two cans of pop. Walking back, she sits down in front of you and hands you a Cola, opening her own Sprite herself. “C’mon, you need to tell me about this. The pop is just here for emotional support.”

You narrow your eyes at her. You thought you were dealing with the effects of your argument with Minghao perfectly fine, but as you look down at the cold can in front of you, an uneasy feeling bubbles up in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you set the can down on your coffee table, leaving it unopened.

Yiren gapes at you with wide eyes. “You’re not going to have it?” Neck hanging low, you shake your head, and you hear her gasp quietly. “Oh my gosh, you just turned down a Cola,” she mutters, grabbing a pillow and pushing it in your direction. “Okay now you need to tell me what’s going on.” She pauses, shuffling closer, adding softly, “It’s okay, you can cry.”

And just like that, the dam breaks and stray tears fall from your lashes as you clutch the pillow close to your chest, blubbering your mind away to your best friend.

“I don’t even get it—I thought I was over him?” you question aloud. “Like when I was with Renjun I was happy and I didn’t think about Minghao because Renjun was great and he was so nice but he just—” you choke back a sob and Yiren pats your back.

“But he left,” she murmurs softly and you want to cry harder because Yiren left too, but then you remind yourself of what Minghao said. Taking a deep breath, your wipe your face of your tears and although your lips still quiver, you start to speak.

“It’s okay,” you mutter, because it isn't like you haven’t cried over this before. “I just—I guess I haven’t really tried hard enough.”

“Tried to … what exactly?”

You huff, throwing your back onto the couch as you look up at the ceiling. “You know: get over him.”

Yiren chuckles a little, and even through your sniffles, you laugh with her. “What are you saying—you gonna fuck around now?”

“Maybe not fuck around,” you say, crossing your legs. “More like … have some fun.”

“So basically fuck around.”

“Yiren!”

“Oh c’mon—you need me to set you up with someone? My sister knows a lot of—”

You nudge her playfully. “What happened to ‘Ms. I Want Half of the Proceeds from your Wedding with Minghao?’”

“First of all,” Yiren waves a finger at you pointedly, “I only asked for 25%, but if you two can come back from this, I will be asking for at least 50% because I have been rooting for you two since day one.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s trying to set me up with other guys?”

“That’s only because you come first to me. Your relationship with Minghao—”

“The nonexistent one,” you correct and Yiren glares at you.

“Okay fine. Your nonexistent relationship with Minghao comes second. I want to see you happy. If you get to be happy with Minghao that’s just an added plus because, you know, 50% of all the gifts and—”

“You’re getting 25% max.”

“Don’t worry. There’s still time for plenty of negotiation and—”

“Yiren!”

You don’t live up to Yiren’s expectations—in her words, she wanted you to have a hot girl summer, but you couldn’t be bothered to go through with it. Well, sort of.

The next two months go along as your summers usually do. You take up a job near your apartment, working through the morning and afternoon, spending your evenings at home or occasionally out with Jianing.

Jianing doesn’t know much about anything when it comes to your (nonexistent) relationship with Minghao, and you figure she doesn’t need to. When you need a distraction, all it takes is a quick message asking her to accompany you for whatever endeavors you have going on for the night and she’s on board.

It’s a slow summer, but you don’t really mind. Not burdened with the stress of your classes and with Jun and Minghao gone for the next two months for their own performances and promotions, you have time to focus on yourself.

Occasional parties, indulging in hobbies, daily walks in the mornings, late nights of binge watching TV shows, outings with Jianing—it’s all a part of a simple routine that you’ve curated to do one thing, and one thing only: relax.

It’s only near the end of the summer, around three weeks before your classes are set to resume, that Jun calls you to let you know he’s coming home with Minghao. He seems pretty casual about it, and you’re reminded about how Minghao probably didn’t mention anything about your argument to your brother, which you’re thankful for.

It’s a passing thought that you’ll have to figure out how you want to act when you finally face him again. Whatever. That’s a problem for another time. Right now, you relax.

That problem for another time seems to have become a problem for now. Jun came home two days ago and things were alright—no run-ins to Minghao and you spend time with your brother like you usually do whenever he returns: with bickering and meals.

It’s only on the third day that things become a little … a little iffy. Your brother texts you in the evening to get ready quickly because he’s stopping by with Minghao for dinner at his place, and it’s all happening so quickly that you don’t have time to come up with an excuse.

So here you are, throwing on your sacred pink jacket because it’s the first thing in your vision, some old jeans, and waiting outside your apartment building much less enthusiastically than you’d like. It’s only a matter of minutes before your phone buzzes with a text from Jun letting you know he’s here and you see Minghao’s car pulling up in front of you.

Making your way to the back door where you usually sit with the two of them, you furrow your brows seeing Jun sitting in your usual spot.

“Sit in the front,” Jun orders when you go to open the back door, “I wanna lay down.” You shrug, making your way to the passenger seat as Jun settles into the back, resting his head on the window while kicking his legs up onto the other two seats.

“Hi,” you say quietly to Minghao who nods and speaks his own quick greeting, averting his attention to the wheel in front of him without much more than that.

“Please,” he huffs, watching Jun through the rear view mirror, “don’t put your shoes on the seats. I just had the car cleaned.” Jun clicks his tongue and kicks his shoes off, continuing to lay back in the seat as Minghao starts the car. The ride is silent as he drives toward the restaurant, both you and Jun on your phones while Minghao has his eyes trained on the road.

Once he parks in front of the place, you watch from the corner of your vision to see Minghao unbuckling his seatbelt before your brother speaks up.

“You guys can wait here, I’m gonna grab the food,” Jun says, slipping in his shoes and making his way to the restaurant, leaving you and Minghao in thickening silence. His hands are resting on his thighs and you press your head on the window, looking out as you try to focus on anything but this.

“Uh,” Minghao clears his throat, and you silently brace yourself for what he might say. “Nice jacket.”

Oh.

Glancing down at what you’re wearing, you twiddle with the hem of the familiar pink jacket. You wonder if this is Minghao’s way of holding out a figurative olive branch, and then you think harder about if you’re willing to accept it. “Thanks,” you reply, matting a hand over your hair before turning your attention to Jun who’s walking towards your car now.

Slipping into the back seat, he shakes the plastic bag in the air as he buckles himself in. “Takeout secured. Let’s go back to your place now,” Jun says, tapping on Minghao’s shoulder from behind. There’s an odd tension in the air, and you don’t doubt that Jun feels it, although he keeps his mouth shut about it.

No one says a word until Minghao is parking in his driveway and unlocking the front door. You follow behind the two of them, Jun grabbing the food as you enter Minghao’s house.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jun asks, putting the takeout bag on the coffee table of the living room as you all begin to settle down.

You shrug off your coat as you say, “Uh, I have to go back to my place and go out for the afternoon and evening with Jianing. Me and her have this little monthly date day thing, and we’re going to the city.”

“Wha-a-a-t,” Jun drawls out, a frown etched onto his face. You narrow your eyes at him, shrugging.

“What? It’s not like you’re leaving right after tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I’m not here for long. I wanted to do something tomorrow, since I might be doing stuff after that!” Jun whines, pointing at Minghao. “We might be going to this cool store and take some pictures and stuff.”

You huff, slightly annoyed as you flop down on a couch. “Okay well can’t you do that tomorrow then? I already have plans.”

Jun pouts, and if he wasn’t so on your nerves right now, you would poke some fun at him. “Why-y-y? You knew I was coming this week!”

“Well it’s not like I can clear my schedule for you. If you wanted to do something you should’ve told me earlier!”

“I let you know last week I was coming down!”

“Jun,” you say with a half laugh, noticing the way Minghao’s eyes have been flickering back and forth between you two through the whole conversation, “one week is not enough time to change some plans. I’ve been meeting with Jianing consistently at this time of month for over a year!”

“But still—”

“It’s not like if I showed up to Korea whenever the time’s convenient for me, you’d drop everything you’re doing to spend time with me!” you exclaim.

Jun’s fists ball at his side before he says, “That’s because my job is important and—”

“The stuff I do in my life might not seem important to you but it is very much important to me. Sorry I’ve made commitments to other people before I even knew you were coming, but I don’t know why you’d expect me to drop all my plans just for you. It’s not even like we aren’t going to see each other afterwards too.”

“Well I’d only hope that’s the case—I only ever see you once every few months so sorry for wanting to take some of your time.”

“Guys—” Minghao starts to say, standing between the two of you but when both you and Jun glare at him, he steps back.

“Do you think your time is worth more than mine or something?” you scoff at Jun, ignoring Minghao.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly did you mean it like then?” you hiss.

Jun sucks in a breath between clenched teeth and runs a hand through his hair. “You know what I meant. Things are just—they’re different. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right yeah. I won’t understand because I don’t have all these girls throwing themselves at me, making me think I’m entitled to everyone’s damn time.” Maybe you crossed a line with that one, but you’re too angry to care now. Hot tears well up in your lash line, threatening to fall any moment now.

“You were the one who was being a brat when you found out I was going to go to Korea in the first place!” Jun exclaims. “Fucking hell, why are you making such a big deal out of me wanting to spend some time with you now?”

Your face screws up into some kind of ugly frown at the words, and you clench your fists as your side. “A brat?” you repeat. “A brat? Is that seriously what you think of me?

“Well you did make a pretty damn big scene about me leaving, so yeah, maybe I do feel entitled to some of your time seeing that you were the one who was desperate for it in the first place.”

“Desperate? Are you kidding me—desperate? I was sixteen and you dumped the fact that you were moving away in like less than two months on me —of course I was upset but desperate? Well fuck you too I guess.” You punctuate the last word by turning on your heel, grabbing your coat off and marching past Minghao and over to the door.

You don’t hear Jun say anything after you do, and for that you are grateful because you don’t think you’ll be able to handle hearing his voice again. Walking out the foyer past the door, you stomp your way to your car, forcefully yanking the driver’s seat open and plopping yourself down with a heavy thud.

Without a word, you press your forehead against the steering and scream a loud and painful, “FUCK!” You can’t even remember a damn thing you or Jun said but all that throttles in your head is the word brat and you feel you might just pull the steering wheel off your stupid car and tear just about everything else apart too.

The prospect is pretty tempting, actually, and in your red, you continue to hit your head, albeit gently, against the wheel as you mutter incoherent curses to yourself. The thud of your skull against the smooth letter rings in your ears until it becomes all that you can hear, so loud that it almost drowns out the knocking sound that comes from outside.

“Holy shit!” you gasp, when you see Minghao from the corner of your vision, standing outside your car with his lips pressed into the thin line. Rolling down your windows, you grimace. “You fucking scared me so bad. Please never creep up on me like that again.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t fucking storm out like that again then,” Minghao says, and your eyes widen slightly when you hear his voice. It’s harder, firmer, more serious than you’ve ever heard before.

“What are you—”

“You can’t drive when it’s night and you’re sobbing—”

“I am not sobbing,” you fruitlessly choke out, wiping some tears off your cheek as you straighten your back and glare at him.

“Look I get you’re mad at Jun and all but can you please calm down and talk to me so—”

You let out a humorless laugh as you begin to roll your windows back up. “Don’t even get me started on you.”

Minghao clicks his tongue as he sticks a hand into your window to stop it from going up any further, looking sideways for a second before turning back to you. “Okay well I don’t want you to drive yourself home like this. It’s not safe.”

“I am not staying here tonight.”

“Then let me drive you home,” Minghao suggests and you open up to object but no words come out. “You agree? C’mon, step out.” You let out nothing more than a huff as you open the door, slipping out quickly and shuffling to the other side where you sit with your arms crossed over your chest, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

Minghao has already taken your spot, hands on the same steering wheel that you were planning on smashing with your head just minutes ago. He’s quiet for a few moments as he backs out of the driveway and starts driving down the street, the car echoing nothing but your soft sniffles that haven’t seemed to stop.

When Minghao opens his mouth again, you’re bracing yourself for a round of chiding, but all that comes out is a one-word question. “Pop?” He takes your silence as a confirmation, and soon enough Minghao is pulling up to that same convenience store. “Do you want me to get it for you?” he asks after he’s parked in front of the convenience store.

You purse your lips together, finally letting yourself turn to look at him. You really want to be mad at him but when you catch the way his fingers are shoved into his pockets, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he awaits your answer, you start to realize that Minghao might be just as apprehensive about this as you are.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, unbuckling your seatbelt so you can get out, Minghao following you quickly.

You’re the first to walk in this time, grabbing a Cola for yourself before looking at Minghao with a raised brow. When he nods, you toss him another can and he makes his way to the cash register. He’s about to pull out his wallet when you’re brushing past him and getting there first, holding up your card to the machine proudly.

“Just because I don’t want to be in any more debt to you,” you murmur, handing Minghao a can after you’ve paid for them both. You lead the way, walking out of the door and slotting yourself into the passenger seat of your car and Minghao gets into the seat next to you, turning on the engine.

You’re still quiet when he starts driving towards your apartment building, and you think that this is the perfect chance for you to drown in the silence. Maybe if you pretend you’re alone, you’ll be able to forget about all the thoughts running through your mind.

Pressing your eyes shut, you slump down into your seat and just as you’re about to let your mind drift into the silence, you hear a familiar rattle of the snare and guitar bridge and your eyes snap open, staring at Minghao directly. He faces forward, eyes trained on the road as he pulls closer to the curb in front of your complex, sighing deeply when the car starts to slow down.

“What are you trying to do Minghao?” you finally say weakly, burying your face in your hands. “You—you’re playing Creep and you took me to get Cola and all you were supposed to do was take me home so—”

“Can I not try to make you feel better? I don’t want you to be upset, so I’m sorry if I’m trying to do the things I know you enjoy,” Minghao responds with a heavy breath, parking in front of your building just like that night he did when he picked you up from the bus stop after you met with Renjun.

The deep strumming of guitar and vibrations of the bass bounce off the walls of your car, and you slip into your seat as the words of the song sink in.‘What the hell am I doing here?’ Glancing up at Minghao, your vision grows blurry. “Minghao …” your voice is quiet and strained when you call for him, and in that moment, you know.

All those years ago when you wanted to kiss him and hold him and pull him close, but you didn’t because you were scared. When you wanted to let your tongues collide and tug at his hair, but you didn’t because you had so much to lose.

You still have so much to lose, but you’re not scared anymore.

And it seems Minghao isn’t either.

Tonight, you get to taste the lingering drops of Cola on his tongue. You get to feel his arms fumbling over the armrest, slipping around your waist and yanking you onto his lap. You get to hold his neck and let your fingers sit in his hair. You get to indulge.

Minghao’s mouth is hot against yours, tongue lapping at your bottom lip when you take a sacred moment to breathe on top of him before your eyes are fluttering back shut and your lips mold into one once again. He hugs you so close you don’t know how you can still breathe, don’t know how your bones don’t melt into each other in this burning moment.

Your lips work fervently to slide against each other in a wet, calculated mess that has you whimpering into Minghao’s mouth when one of his hands cups your jaw. His thumb is soft against your cheekbone when he tilts your head to the side so that your noses brush against either and his lips delve deeper into the caverns of your mouth.

You don’t know how long you two go at it, fingers grappling at whatever skin you can, Minghao’s hand brushing under your shirt and stroking the plush of your hips. And when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore because your heart is so full, you pull away, letting the thin string of saliva connect your shiny lips.

Your brain is foggy and you and Minghao simply sit in the comfortable silence. Well, almost comfortable silence.

You shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.

“W-wait,” you stutter when Minghao leans forward in hopes to catch your lips in another fleeting kiss. “Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself, pushing his shoulders back against the seat as you try to shuffle off his lap.

Minghao holds your waist tightly, but you break free of the grasp. “What are you doi—hey, wait a sec!”

“You said you’re trying to make me feel better but you just did exactly the opposite,” you scoff, slipping on your coat as you push the car door open.

“What are you talking abo—” You cut him off by slamming the door, and Minghao quickly grabs your keys and follows after you. “Slow down.”

You whip around to face him, tears streaming down your face for what feels nth time tonight. “Look, you left like two months ago spewing all this stuff about how I should be independent but the second you come back you act like you’re trying so hard to make me feel better and stuff and then—” You take a deep breath, “—then we makeout and you—fuck I don’t know, I don’t know what you expect from me! Do you just expect me to forget about this and not get upset when you leave again?” you choke out. “Just keep my keys and drive yourself back to your place. I’ll pick up my car later,” you mutter.

“Can you stop doing this? It’s just like what happened last time, and I don’t want to have to leave if you’re—if we’re not okay.”

“What ‘we?’ Weren’t you the one who told me to not expect anyone to stay? I’m not going to do this ‘we’ and ‘us’ thing with someone who is just going to leave all over again. I’m not going to expect you to stay.”

“Look, I just don’t want this to be hanging over your head when I’m gone.”

Ironic, you think to yourself. You want to tell Minghao that he’s been hanging over your head ever since you met him all those years ago, but you bite back the words.

“Minghao,” you say, your voice strained and tired, “I’m already exhausted and my brain isn’t working so can you please just give me my space.”

And if Minghao is one thing, it’s not pushy, and you know that this is all it takes to get him to back off. Though, you don’t miss the way his face falls as he steps back quietly.

“See you,” he mutters through gritted teeth as he turns on his heel, and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or bothered by the way he leaves so silently.

You don’t see Minghao or Jun after that night. They’rewere  supposed to leave for Korea in the next four days, and so you spend those four days lodged up in your apartment, not leaving unless absolutely necessary—you’re scared that you might run into one of them, as pathetic as that sounds.

Jun doesn’t text you and you don’t text him. It’s a bit abnormal, you two communicate at least once every two days, if not more. It’s a bit of an unspoken rule, but now that you’re both hot-headed and very much not in the right mind, you figure some rules are meant to be broken.

It’s two days after Jun and Minghao were scheduled to leave, the only confirmation that you got that they actually did leave being the group picture at the airport your father sent to the family group chat.

Jianing comes to your apartment when you finally call her over, quickly picking up on your sullen state.

“I don’t get it,” she says with a shrug after you explain to her everything that happened between you and Jun and Minghao.

“Well yeah, I guess you don’t, but this has been going on for a while,” you reply begrudgingly, sinking into your couch as she stares at you blankly from your armchair.

“Just—I dunno—talk to them?”

You give her a funny look. “How?” you groan, throwing your head back. “They won’t be back for like a month at least, and I don’t want to call them.”

“I forget they’re famous sometimes” Jianing mutters, rolling her eyes, and you laugh at the comment.

“You and me both,” you say, straightening your back.

“But still, I don’t get it. I mean just visit them?” she suggests casually.

“I can’t just fly up to Korea unannounced!” you exclaim, bewildered.

Jianing rolls her eyes at you and you frown. “Why not? I mean you just said this might go on for a while if you don’t talk to them so I don’t get it. Just go see them.”

YOURS TRULY

you: chan i need ur help [8:13 AM] chan: this is ur first time texting me in three months [8:15 AM] chan: so i am going to assume this is pretty important [8:15 AM] you: i’m at incheon airport [8:16 AM] chan: what [8:17 AM] you: what [8:17 AM] chan: jun didn’t say anything about u coming??! [8:19 AM] you: DON’T TELL HIM [8:19 AM] chan: what … [8:20 AM] you: i’m surprising him [8:20 AM] chan: ????? [8:21 AM] chan: who knows [8:21 AM] you: um you do [8:21 AM] chan: thank u [8:22 AM] chan: so what do u need [8:22 AM] you: can u pick me up [8:23 AM] chan: i don’t have a choice do i [8:24 AM] you: nope :3 [8:24 AM]

When black SUV stops in front of you by the curb at the airport, you smile brightly, waving at the driver as the windows begin to roll down. You’re about to chirp a quick, “Hi Chan!” but the words get caught in your throat when you see who’s driving.

“Jeonghan?” you ask confusedly. He waves at you from the front seat, and Chan sticks his head in from the back to look at you through the window.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, opening the door to help you pull in your suitcase and get situated into the back seat. “Look, I tried to leave without anyone noticing but they saw me so I told them I was going to the gym, but he said he wanted to come and —” Chan glares at the man in the passenger seat, “— I don’t even know why since he hasn’t gone to the gym in ages—”

“Watch it Chan!” Jeonghan calls out from the front as the cat starts to move, pulling an eye roll out of the boy sitting next to you.

“Whatever. Basically, I had no choice but to bring him along and tell them I was actually picking you up.”

“You guys didn’t tell Jun, did you?” you ask worriedly.

“I—no,” Jeonghan says. “And even if we tried, he won’t be awake for another hour or whatever. That’s besides the point anyways—Chan is terrible at lying.”

“You caught me off guard! I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this morning, so I didn’t have any excuses prepared …” Chan huffs, sinking into his seat as you glance back and forth between them nervously.

“Thank you for trying anyways,” you say sincerely, adjusting in your seat. “I know this was all really sudden but I didn’t plan anything out and I kinda ended up here before I could even process anything,” you add.

“Hey, Minghao was telling us about these really good cupcakes you make—if you have time, can you bake them for us?” Chan asks, out of the blue.

You give him a funny look and then smile. “Sure, if I have the time. I’d like to—they told me Mingyu tries to make them for you guys.”

“Yeah! That would—”

“Thank you, but I’m going to assume that you are here for a reason other than making us your infamous cupcakes,” Jeonghan says, merging onto the freeway.

“As much as I’d love for that to be why I’m here, you’re right,” you mutter, resting your head against the headrest.

“Is everything alright?” Jeonghan asks.

As you’re about to respond, Chan chimes in. “This is about Jun, isn’t it?”

“Ai—Channie, don’t jump to conclusions,” Jeonghan reprimands but Chan shakes his head, holding his hand up as he turns to you with wide eyes.

“No, no, I’m not assuming anything. I’m right, aren’t I?” Partly. Chan continues. “Well it’s just—I can kinda tell. He’s being a little snappier. Jeonghan wouldn’t know but—“

Jeonghan gives Chan a warning look through the rear view mirror. “What do you mean I wouldn’t know?”

“Hannie, just listen to me. So me and Soonyoung and Minghao and Jun have been practicing at night right—for that next performance—and you know that Jun has a bit of a temper, especially in the night, but I don’t know—it’s just been different recently.”

You stifle a scoff when Chan mentions Jun having a short temper, looking out the window hoping no one heard. Jun does have a bit of a fiery streak, but the truth is that you’re just as sporadic as him.

Fire meets fire. Huh, wonder what that makes. More fire, probably. That’s what got you here, isn’t it? Unfortunately.

“Has, uh,” you pause wondering if you should ask this, but curiosity does kill the cat, after all. “Has Minghao seemed … off?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you. “What’s Minghao got to do with this? Did something happen with him too?” Curse that emotionally intelligent man.

Chan eyes flicker between the ground and you. “It’s hard to tell when Minghao is upset. He seems normal even when he’s upset so I can’t really tell … why though?”

“Just—just a lot of stuff. I think I need to see them both. Separately.”

Jeonghan nods, pursing his lips together before responding, “Do you need our help?”

Jeonghan takes you to his apartment first so you have a moment to drop your suitcase off somewhere, and you get to say hi to Seungkwan who you’re pretty sure didn’t even recognize you in his drowsy state.

“Where’re we going?” you ask when you get back outside of the building heading towards the car.

“C’mon, let’s walk,” Chan says, pulling you away from the car.

“Jun’s apartment building is just down the street here,” Jeonghan explains. “He should be sleeping right now, so just wake him up.”

“Are you kidding me? He might kill me!” you complain with a frown.

Chan huffs, “Well you did come here unannounced and without a plan, so you don’t have much of a choice anyways.”

You chew on your lip as you fruitlessly try to come up with an answer, sighing in defeat when you come up with nothing.

“Exactly,” Jeonghan concludes, stopping in front of a building that’s built similar to his. “Anyways, his suite number is 345 on the third floor. You should know the code to his apartment right?”

You nod, but then shake your head. “I know it, but I think I’ll just knock until he wakes up. He might actually kill me if someone shows up inside his home unannounced.”

Chan laughs at that when the two of you lead you to the elevator of this new building. “That, he might.”

“So encouraging,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out at them as the elevator door opens. “Anyways, thank you for helping me, really. I’ll make cupcakes if I make it out of this alive,” you promise while you step in.

“You better!” Jeonghan calls out as the doors slide shut and the elevator begins to take you up.

It’s now, when you’re alone, that it all begins to sink in. You’re in Korea. You’re about to see Jun. You might die—okay maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you aren’t sure what to do with yourself so your mind is jumping towards the worst possible scenario as you reach the third floor and make your way to his apartment.

You stand in front of room 345 for a few moments once you arrive, not even sure if you’ll manage to go through with this. What the fuck are you even going to say?

(Un?)fortunately, you have a tendency to not think before you act, and before you have a second of thought your knuckles are rapping against the door. It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if you should go again.

Taking a deep breath, you continue knocking on the door at a steady rate before you hear soft footsteps growing louder in volume until they stop at the door. You hold your breath and let your hand fall, fisting it at your sides in anticipation.

When you see the door crack open, a wave of relief washes over you. But when you see Jun’s blank face as he looks down on you, a new sense of uneasiness takes over.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” Ah, how nostalgic.

“So cold. You aren’t going to let me in?”

Jun rolls his eyes, and you grow more anxious because you can’t tell if he’s being playful or not. He steps to the side though, and you quickly slip through the door so he can close and lock it behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he reiterates and you feel your tongue go dry.

“Uh, Chan told me that you’re being—well—how do I put this?” you mutter to yourself, rocking back and forth on your feet.

“Difficult?” Jun guesses, bitterness laced in the word and you cringe at the tone.

“I guess.”

“I don’t think you came all the way to Korea just because Chan told you I was being difficult.”

“I, uh, I talked to Jianing about it when she visited and … I guess I felt I should come see you.”

“So if Jianing didn’t talk to you about this, then you just wouldn’t have talked about it?” Jun asks harshly and you glare at him.

“Well it’s not like you would’ve come talk to me about it either,” you retort, and Jun goes quiet at them. “And Jianing didn’t make this decision for me, by the way, I made it all by myself.”

“Okay well you’re here now. What is it?” An uncomfortable silence sits between you two. “If you only came here to just stand there and stare off into space then—”

“Jun, please shut your mouth for like one minute,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I wanted to apologize. That night I … I was on edge.” Jun watches you intently as you finally meet his gaze. “There was a lot running through my mind and I was just—just fucking annoyed at everything and I took everything you said the worst way.”

A feeling of worry climbs up your throat—you and Jun don’t often apologize, at least not like this. Apologies usually come in the form of figurative olive trees—you buy him a LEGO set, he buys you a gift card to your favorite cafe, or something among that. Then again, this isn’t your usual argument with Jun, and maybe sometimes resorting to more traditional methods are most effective.

Jun sighs softly, not looking at you, and you grow worried that he’s even more angry than you anticipated. You brace yourself for his next possible words. “I … I did say some mean stuff too. I’m sorry—I just—I have a shitty temper. You know that. Chan probably told you that too.” Jun is silent for a second before continuing. “Is … is everything okay?”

The question isn’t quite what you’re expecting and you press your lips together tightly because you want to cry. You want to let the tears stream down your cheeks and tell Jun that you have no idea but also the perfect idea of what you’re doing and it’s all jumbled up mess in your head.

“I guess—I mean, I hate fighting with you,” you admit. “But, that’s why I came here and we didn’t say goodbye the last time and I know that was partly my fault but also I missed you.”

“But are you okay?”

“Jun—”

“Because I know you’re stubborn—it really is annoying sometimes but I’m not one to complain,” he adds with a huff, “and I know you’re a little weird—”

You both laugh and you point a finger at him, “Watch it—you and me both.”

“Whatever,” he says lightly before turning to a more serious tone. “But I never thought we’d fight again like that one time two years ago and—”

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up!? Yiren said that too,” you sigh.

“To make a point. Which, by the way, is me going back to asking you if everything’s okay. I just … I know that you’re a little crazy but I never thought that you’d fly over here for something that we could probably sort out over the phone. Not that I’m not glad to see you here, I mean, I am, I’m just … worried.”

“I kissed Minghao,” you blurt out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth after you do.

“What?!” Jun’s eyes go wide for a moment before he relaxes a little. “Is that what’s been up with you?”

“What do you mean ‘up with me?’”

“Moody. Cranky. Like you’re in high school again.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You chew on your lip as you try to read Jun’s expression. He doesn’t seem mad nor happy nor confused, and you’re running out of emotions to label him under.

“I knew you liked him in high school, you know. Thin walls, plus Yiren is loud as hell.”

“Ugh, I always told her to keep it down! She didn’t believe me!”

“Doesn’t matter now. What you or him do isn’t much of my business anyways,” Jun mutters, awkwardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodies. “I mean I guess it is, if it makes you all upset and not okay like this,” he continues.

You can tell he’s encouraging you to explain more, and you press your eyes together trying to figure what and what not you should say. “Has Minghao … has he seemed different?”

“I mean not really, but also it’s hard to tell with him because—” Your whole finger droops and Jun quickly places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, what is this about? Did something happen? You know you can tell me.”

“It’s a lot,” you confess. “I don’t know, I-I came here to talk to the both of you but I haven’t even thought about what to say to him. I kind of booked my tickets last night.”

“Last night?!”Jun exclaims. “Are you stupid or what?”

“Maybe I am!” you murmur, slapping your palm against your forehead. Jun looks down at your pained expression and frowns.

“You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”

“What happened to, ‘I don’t care what you guys do it isn’t my business?’”

“Well it is my business if you’re upset! I’m the only person who’s allowed to be a bitch to you.”

“Well ditto to you too!” You follow with a sigh. “I think I just need to talk to him.”

“He’s at the gym right now. Do you want to get coffee instead?”

“Hogging me all to yourself? I know you missed me but don’t you think this is a little unfair—I’d like to at least say hi to the others first. Or maybe have some time to sleep. I kind of got here at like seven in the morning.”

“Be grateful! I’m actually looking out for you, because they’ll literally hound you, plus I want to make up for not spending time with you last time I visited.”

You grin at the words, rolling your eyes playfully. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“When do I not pay for you?”

“Loads of times!”

“That’s because you insist on paying for yourself.”

“Irrelevant!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving a fist in the air before Jun locks his arm around your neck and traps you in a headlock. Good times.

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously behind your back as you wait in the elevator with Jeonghan. Jun had to take care of something with one of the other members, so he sent you off with the older boy to take you to the meeting room.

“He’ll be there, don’t worry,” Jeonghan tells you as he pats your shoulder lightly. “I just checked his location and I’m positive he’s there right now.”

“Thanks,” you say with a sigh, shifting your weight from leg to leg, “but I’m more worried about what I’m going to say. I think you already know but I planned like zero percent of this.”

“It’s becoming increasingly evident, unfortunately,” Jeonghan admits when the elevator dings and the door opens onto a floor full of rooms. “You’ll figure it out, I’m sure, seeing as you’re just like Jun.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeonghan chuckles and leads you to a door a few steps down the hallway, pointing to it. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be in there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be down on floor three making some ramen,” he says cheerily, waving at you before retreating to elevatory before you have even a moment to protest.

So now you’re left with nothing but yourself and yet another door. This time, instead of knocking your life away, your hand is pressed against the knob as you debate whether or not you should turn it or not.

Once again, your body acts without your mind and you’re quietly opening the door and poking your head through the crack. Inside is Minghao with headphones over his ears, sitting at the end of a long table with his head crooked down as he scrolls through his lap top.

He doesn’t hear you, but you aren’t sure if it’s for the better or the worse. In some ways, you still have a chance to run, but in others, you’ll have to call out to him if you want him to notice you. Gulping, you realize that you’ve been too scared for too long and so you clear your throat.

“Minghao,” you call out.

It only takes a second for his eyes to shoot up, hands flying to his headphones to take them off as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. You’re at opposite ends of the room right now, and you nervously shut the door behind you as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“I—” You inhale sharply. “—I don’t know. I just think we both needed to talk.”

You can see him visibly gulp as he stands up, and looks away as if trying to figure out what he should do with himself.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, dread washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, face burning. “I know I just showed up like this without warning and I know that’s not fair so if you don’t want to talk you know I totally get it and—” you start to blabber so fast you hardly notice him walking over and down the length of the table, “—I just really wanted to see you and talk to you but I couldn’t do it over the phone because—”

“Slow down,” Minghao says firmly, now standing in front of you as he gazes down with wide eyes. “Is everything okay? When did you come here—wait, did you come here just to talk to me?”

“Well yeah. And Jun.”

“Are you okay?” Minghao asks softly. “This doesn’t seem like you.”

You wince at the familiar words but shake it off. “I know, I just had so much to say and I’m sorry because you were right, and when you said you didn’t want this hanging over my head I was angry and I thought I could ignore this and ignore you but I was wrong and just really needed to sort things out. And the night you picked me up after Renjun and all—I know you told me to not depend anyone or anything—and I know I’m not listening to you right now and I don’t want you to be disappointed but—”

“Stop,” Minghao says, holding a hand up. “Disappointed? I—please don’t think that. The stuff I said that night was …” he sighs before continuing. “You were so upset that night because you didn’t have us around and I felt so bad but also, there wasn’t anything I could do about that.”

“I …” your eyebrows knit together as you try to find the right words. “… I know that. I didn’t mean to make it feel like you had to change anything, or that it was your fault.”

“I know and—”

“Wait, please hear me out. I don’t want to ever make you think that I blame you or Jun for leaving—I-I’m so happy for you guys you don’t understand. I was just … I was bitter,” you admit. “And I was jealous of you because you get to be around my own brother more than me and … I guess I was also jealous of Jun because he gets to be around you so often too.”

You finish your confession by burying your face in your hands, face heating up as you can only imagine the look on his face. He says your name softly, and you peek up at him through the gap between your fingers.

“Hey, no, I get it. I mean, I guess I don’t exactly understand how you’re feeling but I don’t blame you either.”

“I wrote you a letter,” you blurt out, a hand digging into your pocket as it toys around with the folded paper inside. Minghao raises a brow, and you pull it out and hold it in front of him. “Right after you guys left,” you explain as he takes the paper from your hand, carefully unfolding it. “Don’t open it now! That’s … embarrassing. Just read it when I’m not here or something because I might just die out of humiliation.”

When Minghao chuckles, you feel some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. “Noted,” he murmurs, tucking it into the pocket of his sweats before turning his attention back to you with a more serious expression which has your stomach tying up in knots.

“You know how my job is. I can’t promise how often I’ll be home and when I’ll be able to make time and I know that people leaving hurt you so much and … I guess I just didn’t want to give you hope that I would be able to give you a ‘normal’ relationship, because I can’t, even though I want to. I think when I told you all that, I just—fuck—I hoped that you’d be able to focus on someone better for you.”

You want to cry and tell him that you don’t want someone ‘better,’ but choose to save those words for a different time. “T-then why’d you kiss me that night?” you ask quietly.

“I—” Minghao pauses, looking down as he searches for what he’s about to say. “I only have so much self control.”

You chew on your lip, debating if you should frown or grin at his statement. “So you—you wanted to kiss me?” Minghao responds in a heartbeat.

“Of course I did,” and then he clears his throat, “I wanted to for a while. I still do.”

Chuckling nervously, you start to say, “I don’t kn—”

The air is successfully sucked from your lungs when Minghao slides his hand around your neck, angling your jaw up with his gentle thumb. You think you might just go dizzy from the way he’s touching you until his warm mouth presses against yours, and this is the moment you feel every last muscle in your body let go.

He kisses you softer than the first time, his tongue running against your bottom lip for only a moment before you let your hand grip at his torso instinctively. “Sorry,” Minghao murmurs sheepishly when he breaks away. “Told you. Only so much self control.”

“I-I won’t complain,” you admit quickly, and though you let your hand drop to your side, Minghao keeps his where it is: cradling your cheek. He’s quiet for a moment before whispering again, and the words make your face burn and your heart fly around in circles.

“Can I kiss you again?”

link to smut!

“You have everything? Your tickets?” you ask as you lean against the doorframe. You’re both standing outside your parents house right now, waiting for Jun to finish his last bit of packing (why he was so insistent on you two coming quickly when even he wasn’t ready is still a mystery to you) so you can call over the van to take them to the airport.

Minghao shrugs at you, pulling out his wallet to look through the pockets to double check. As he’s shuffling through them, a familiar piece of paper sticks out and grabs your attention. “You keep my letter in your wallet?”

Minghao nods, seemingly unbothered by your surprise. “Yeah. Where else would I keep it?”

“Well, I don’t know but—”

“It’s a cute letter!” Minghao reasons. “And I like having it with me. Like a little good luck charm.”

You press a kiss to his cheek when he says that, but continue to say, “I don’t get what’s so cute about me getting drunk and writing to you.”

“Okay that part, I don’t like. Seriously. Underage drinking is not cool,” Minghao mutters. “But the rest of the letter is pretty nice I guess,” he teases, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

“Pretty nice?” you scoff, trying to snatch the wallet back from him to grab your letter. He swipes it away too quickly though, and you’re left pawing at his chest to try and get it back. “You don’t deserve that letter! I put my heart and soul into it!”

“Heart and soul? I think you mean you poured five shots of vodka into it.” You frown deeply, and Minghao relaxes his shoulders. “Okay I’m sorry—you know I love the letter.”

“Do I?” you huff stubbornly, looking at the ground.

Minghao traces a hand down your face and tilts your chin upwards. “C’mon look at me,” he murmurs, and you begrudgingly meet his gaze. “I love the letter.” He pecks you on the lips. “Do you believe me now?”

“You might have to kiss me one more time for that.”

Minghao grins and presses his lips on yours again, a little harder this time. “Good now?”

“Yes—you got lucky.”

“Okay good … but just for extra measures, I have something that might sweeten the deal,” Minghao tells you, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket and handing it to you. Carefully, you take it and unravel it, glancing over the words.

There’s a lot—like a lot—and Minghao’s face flushes as you skim over the paragraphs he wrote, slapping a hand over the paper. “Okay don’t read it in front of me!” he whines, and you beam because history has a tendency to repeat itself.

“Fine, fine,” you sigh, looking down at it one more time when your eyes catch a little note at the bottom.

Pursing your lips, you glance up and find Minghao watching you with wide eyes and a bright smile, and you can’t help but fling yourself into his arms. Your heart swells when you feel him wrap his hands around you rightly pulling him close as the words cast their imprint into your mind.

You’re happy. So, so, so happy.

Yours truly, Xu Minghao (weirdo)

P.S. I love you.

a/n. okay wow i can't believe this is done ... genuinely put so much into this fic i hope u all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! i definitely might be writing more about these two bc i loved them so much😭 i had like 2 more ideas for a smut in mind but decided not to add them but if you'd be interested in reading them, i might post them as a oneshot/bonus, so lmk what you're interested in! please reblog if u did, and let me know ur thoughts—it would mean a lot to me :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @junhui-recs @ichorjeon (strikethrough could not be tagged)

[schrijverr]

It Just Hits Different When It’s Batman

5 times a League member heard Batman use slang + 1 time they knew where the fuck he got it from.

This fic is based off this post by @wednesday-if-it-was-tuesday bc it was just too good! Hope you don't mind :D

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~~

1. Flash

Barry is pretty sure he has to get his hearing checked as he speeds through a city, trying to find a series of bombs, courtesy of a new alliance of villains. He and Batman are on bomb duty, thus sharing a private com line as to not distract the others or be distracted as they coordinate.

However, Barry is very much distracted by his own partner in this whole mess, because unless he’s gotten a few too many hits to the head in recent years, he’s pretty sure Batman just reported: “The bombs look like yassified thermos flasks.”

“What?” Barry chokes, nearly tripping over his own feet as he does.

Batman doesn’t seem to notice, instead explaining the bomb, not his wording: “The casing looks to be made from plastic, likely to escape Superman’s notice. Start checking water pipes, I found this one near a toilet. I’ll report again once I figure out how to disarm it.”

Okay, questing his sanity later, finding bombs, now.

So he zooms off again, having to agree with the fact that the bomb does look like a yassified thermos flask. He wonders if he can use that in his report or if Batman will scold him for language. He has worked with the man for long enough that he knows Batman isn’t above hypocrisy.

Then he wonders again if he even heard it right. In the heat of battle, the brain sometimes does weird things, especially when someone thinks at the speed of light. Or faster.

He’ll put it out of his mind for now, maybe tell Hal about it just so he’ll have someone to share the bizarre experience with.

Clark probably has a thesaurus, he should probably also find a synonym for yassified. Does a thesaurus have slang too?

2. Green Lantern

It’s true that Barry had told him about Spooky saying yassified in that one battle, but Hal hadn’t truly believed that Bats was capable of something like that. I mean, look at him. The guy might be a weirdo who dresses up as a Bat, but he’s not a weirdo who says shit like yassified.

However, at the moment it is starting to look more and more likely. Fuck, Barry is gonna give him so much crap for not believing him.

The moment in question is Batman working with him on the stealth mission. It’s one for the Green Lantern Corps, so Batman is doing him a favor. Though Hal is starting to wish that he hadn’t done him that favor, because Batman has just said: “It looks like Luthor is being thristy for Superman again. For someone who hates the guy, he sure wants his attention a lot. That’s Kryptonian honing device.”

Hal doesn’t react, still thinking about the fact that he’s just heard Luthor, thirsty and Superman in one sentence. In Batman’s voice no less.

“What?” he says.

“A Kryptonian honing device,” Batman repeats, sounding as if he thinks Hal is stupid, not uncommon. “So he can hone in on Superman, find him. Something we need to do something about.”

Hal decides to take the smart way out and lets the whole thing drop in favor of focusing on the mission. He’s not just telling Barry, but Ollie about this as well.

3. Cyborg

Being in the Justice League isn’t much different than being on the Teen Titans. Like right now, being in a building that could explode at any moment unless he hacks into the system and stops that from happening.

Ah, good old life-threatening pressure.

Batman is fighting some of the goons in the background. They’re on their own here, with the others fighting through an army outside to get to them. But it’s mostly up to them. Batman yells: “Cyborg, status.”

“I’m getting through, but something is bugging me about this whole thing,” Victor calls back. “I think there is someone I’m missing that will allow me to crack this.”

There are a few grunts in the background as Batman fights on, while Victor starts to scan through everyone who worked for the organization, trying to find the missing link.

He is interrupted by Batman, who says: “I took a tour here once. There was an intern, Kyle Paulson, he was kind of sus. Look him up.”

For a second, Victor is thrown by the sus in that sentence, but he quickly focuses back on what’s important. Indeed finding Kyle to be the missing link that gets him to disarm the bomb. While Batman is taking out the last of the bad guys.

In fact, the whole thing slips his mind until he’s writing his mission report, going through the footage to get accurate information in there. Then he pauses again, before dismissing it. Those who trained under Batman are always prepared, maybe it’s not slang but shorthand to be useful in the moment. Or he’s trying to include him, sweet, though unnecessary.

Victor puts it out of his mind.

4. Green Arrow

Ollie doesn’t believe Barry or Hal for a second. Like, really? Batman using slang that the sidekicks are using?

Sure, Nightwing sometimes uses some here and there, but Red Robin is always very professional and Robin is closer to a Shakespearean actor than a TikTok teen. There isn’t anyone else he could have gotten it from and it doesn’t make sense with his whole ‘I am the Night’-persona.

Victor suggested it was to make the newbies more comfortable when he overheard them talking, but that’s even more ridiculous in Ollie’s opinion.

So, he’s not at all in the slightest prepared for Batman’s reaction when he shows him the new arrows he developed. Because Batman’s reaction is: “Hm, serves cunt.”

“Excuse me, what?” Ollie says, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.

Batman just stares at him, then in a confused sort of voice goes: “You know, it slays? It’s, you know, good? Positive.”

“Huh, what? No, I- I know what that means. How the fuck do you know?” Ollie splutters.

“I’m Batman,” is all he says. Then he walks away and leaves Ollie to stand there, still frozen in time, because what the hell was that? Batman can’t just do that, can he? That’s illegal. How does he even know that?

What Ollie doesn’t know, is that this was a calculated move. Bruce had overheard the three talking as well and decided to have a little fun. All the times before, it just slipped out in the heat of battle, but this one was purposeful.

Bruce knows Ollie would know what it meant, because billionaires Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen have done TikTok trends in the past and try to keep up to date, despite their age. Not that Ollie knows it’s him under there.

And last gala, he left Bruce for the wolves – Vicky Vale – so now Bruce is dealing psychological damage to him as petty revenge.

5. Superman (and Practically the Entire League)

They’re in a meeting with most of the Justice League members that are present on earth at the moment. It’s not often they hold such meetings, since they are a little overwhelming and tend to drag on more than be productive.

However, Clark thinks it’s important to ensure there are avenues through which ever member can state their piece and be heard. So, here they are again.

Booster Gold is complaining about always being on the sidelines and never in the heat of the action, even though he’s a great hero. He’s claiming that there is a bias against younger heroes, despite the fact that the ‘old guard’ will have to give it up eventually.

Apparently, Batman has had enough, because he gets up and snaps: “We don’t have bias based on age, we have one based off skill. Maybe if you stopped abandoning your post and being someone reliable, you might get put out in the field more often. Now stop being salty about it.”

It’s silent.

Clark is scrambling his brain, to figure out the meaning. As a journalist he tries to stay up to date on current language use, however, the only person he’s heard use that word is Jon. The boy never explained, but Clark guessed what it means. Doesn’t explain why Batman knows it.

Then the silence gets broken by a snort, everyone’s head whipping towards the source. It’s Nightwing, a newer addition and one affiliated with Batman himself. The only one there brave enough to laugh at Batman, mirthfully asking: “Did you actually say salty?”

There is no change on Batman’s face, but as a longtime friend, Clark knows he isn’t emotionless. Indeed, when he listens close, he can hear the blood rush to his face, blush hidden by the cowl.

“That was not the point of the sentence, Nightwing,” Batman counters, the name a little bit pointed on is tongue.

“Okay, okay,” Nightwing grins easily, showing his hands in surrender, an act which is made null by him adding: “Just pointing out that this is an official meeting. You’re on the record and you know I’m reporting this to the others.”

Red Robin and Robin, Clark fills in mentally, the other two known associates. Everyone already guessed that Nightwing must be close to them as well, since the younger two are closer to being Batman’s children. Now that is confirmed.

“Thank you for reminding me,” Batman says tersely, before quickly pivoting to the next point on the agenda. No one calls him out for it.

However, just because no one calls him out on it, doesn’t mean they drop it. In the weeks after the incident, whispers make their way through the halls of the Watchtower as people speculate why or how Batman came to use the word salty and how out of character it is.

Clark can hear the gossip all over the Watchtower and he’s sure Batman is aware of it too, because some brave souls have asked about. Especially when some of the others talked about the incident not being the first one.

Batman hasn’t replied yet to any of the questions or rumors. Clark thinks he likes the mystery and chaos, likes that they don’t know why the hell he sometimes lets slang slip. Even Nightwing has been seemingly silenced, never commenting with a sort of professional ease at evasion.

Nightwing is the only clue they have, along with Robin and Red Robin, but none of them seem like the culprit.

It just doesn’t make sense and Clark can’t help but have his reporter brain itch.

+1. The Batfamily

There is going to be an attack somewhere in a major city in America tonight. They cannot figure out where, so there is a nation wide stake out at all the important places. Nearly the entire Justice League has been pulled out for it and even then they don’t have enough.

Batman insists on having a skeleton crew remain on the Watchtower in case the threat turns out to be a distraction. And when it is protested, he pulls out an army of associates none of them have ever heard about to fill out the last gaps in their observational net.

The sudden introduction of about six new Gotham vigilantes, which have apparently been operating inside the city as well as outside of it, would have been the main shock if it weren’t for how they are on coms.

Red Robin and Nightwing are known as professionals like Batman, while Robin isn’t a known entity in missions, though those who have met him, know him to be serious. However, with the introduction of the others all of that professionalism melts away.

It starts about 45 minuted into their mission when Spoiler’s voice suddenly crackles over the coms: “I fucking hate stake outs, they’re so boring.”

“I know right, my ass is starting to hurt,” Red Robin – to everyone’s surprise – replies.

“No chatter on the coms,” Batman dutifully reproaches like he always does, but he sounds less stern this time. It’s as if he knows they won’t listen, but says it because it’s his role to do so.

Red Hood ignores Batman completely, idly commenting: “I don’t know, stake outs always hit different for me.”

“That’s just because you’re boring AF,” Spoiler says, an eyeroll practically audible.

“Oi, take that back,” Red Hood says, offended. “I didn’t die to have you slander my name like that!”

This is horrifying news for most of the other people stuck on the coms, however, there is a cacophony of annoyed groans as well. Why anyone would be so blasé about someone mentioning their death, they don’t know.

Until, Robin says: “Cease mentioning your death as excuse. It’s unbecoming to be so reliant on one measly event. You’re not the only one who has died, don’t be – what was it? – ah, yes, don’t be basic, Hood.”

“Yeah, Hood, don’t be salty just because you’re becoming a boring old man,” Red Robin pipes up, sounding smug. That solves the salty mystery.

“Shut up, Replacement,” Red Hood huffs. “I can talk about my death as much as I want to and you can’t stop me.”

“Hood, please, stop talking about your death, you’re going to make B sad,” Nightwing suddenly interjects, stopping the conversation before it can get out of hand.

Those with super hearing will hear Barry mutter in a shocked manner: “Is he talking about Batman?” But he is overshadowed by most of the newly introduced (and already) known Bat-associates booing loudly.

“Don’t be a fucking suck up, Dick” Spoiler hollers, only those in the know picking up on the fact it’s his name. It’s the only time Batman won’t correct them, because not everyone will know it’s a name unless it’s pointed out.

“Periodt,” the quiet voice of Black Bat supports Spoiler.

“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, BB,” Spoiler cheers when she hears the other girl.

“That was the correct usage?” Black Bat asks.

“It was, well done,” Oracle’s kind voice comes over the coms, from where she is in her lair helping with coordination.

After that it all quiets down again for about half an hour, then Bluebird breaks the quiet again, complaining: “I can’t believe I had to stay behind in Gotham of all places.”

“You live there. Willingly,” Signal answers. “And I had to stay behind too, you know.”

“They’re sleeping on us, Signal, be upset with me,” Bluebird exclaims, indignantly.

“Okay, but tea though,” Spoiler says, most of the Justice League listening in are starting to learn she likes stirring the pot a little.

“Don’t be a simp, Spoils,” Red Robin says.

“Oh, look who’s talking about being a simp,” Red Hood snorts loudly. “I observed you, loser boy, you’re the simp.”

“It’s not as much of the serve you think it is to admit to stalking me,” Red Robin deadpans.

“RR, not to be that bitch, but you’re the OG stalker, maybe- maybe don’t do that,” Nightwing says cautiously, which is apparently funny enough that multiple people start laughing.

Meanwhile Red Robin complains: “Stop laughing at me, when I did it was totally different, I didn’t plan on killing any of you.” Which is mildly disturbing

“Oi, I never planned to actually kill you-kill you either,” Red Hood protests, even more disturbing. The Justice League is starting to wonder why Batman works with the man.

“Stop with the chatter,” Batman interjects again, before it can go further. “It’s not just us on the com lines now. At least try to be professional.”

And much to the horror of the League, who could never imagine doing such a thing, Batman gets booed. Again. This time directly.

Then to add to the horror, Batman doesn’t explode in anger, like everyone would have imagined, instead he just sighs. Defeated. Batman is like a cockroach, he doesn’t get defeated. However, these kids are managing.

Batman remains defeated too, because the Gotham vigilantes continue to idly chat all throughout the next hour. They are definitely bat associated, because they never reveal any information that could be tied to their civilian identity. Instead discussing other missions, general news, funny things they saw on patrol and personal grievances with the others on the line.

If this is what Batman deals with on the day to day, some are starting to see why he would prefer the heroes of the Justice League to keep their mouths shut on missions unless it’s important.

Most try to tune it out and focus on their own stake out, though the voices keep them awake. But they notice when Spoiler’s voice suddenly becomes serious as she reports: “Sus individuals moving towards the Mayor’s office.”

“Received, getting visual on your location,” Oracle’s voice replies, also snapped back into professionalism.

Spoiler reports their appearances and currently location, until Oracle has them, running a check on them, before confirming they have a criminal record and might be thugs for hire. Spoiler says: “I am going to move in.”

Batman says: “Do not engage, Spoiler, they could be a decoy. Try and get more information first.”

“Alright, alright,” Spoiler huffs. Then adds petulantly: “I’m not gonna do it, I was just thinking about it.”

Which sounds pretty reasonable for most listening in, who aren’t of the right age group to know the meme. Batman, however, does know, because he’s been subjected to it multiple times. So, he yells: “Spoiler, no!” startling some members.

A second later, there are sounds of a fight and Spoiler gleefully saying: “I did it.”

Batman lets out a frustrated growl, but Spoiler pays it no mind and she can’t truly get chewed out, because more and more start to report suspicious individuals moving in on the targets they’re watching.

Within minutes of it starting, Nightwing reports: “They’re decoys with targets. Not the main attack, but will do damage if they succeed.”

“Everyone make sure to take out the decoys,” Batman says. “Those without decoys, keep your eyes peeled, you might be at the real target.”

“Done with my targets, moving to help the others now,” Nightwing reports seriously, before he adds: “And can I just say that I’m the GOAT. Dibs on cookies for finishing first.”

“Okay, shade much,” Bluebird says.

“Don’t be arrogant, it’s unbecoming,” Robin retorts as well.

“Yeah, stop flexing,” Spoiler adds. “I’ve wrapped up too, by the way. You’re not special.”

“Let me have this,” Nightwing complains. “You already took all my shit, let me be cool. You all used to think I was cool.”

“Yeah, used to,” Red Hood scoffs. “Then we all realized you’re a looser.”

“Ha, get wrecked,” Red Robin snorts.

“Baby bird, wasn’t I your favorite?” Nightwing asks hurt, though over the top enough to show he is faking it.

“No, sadly, that was Hood,” Red Robin replies, sounding a little like he’s grimacing.

“No cap?” Red Hood asks, surprised.

“No cap,” Red Robin confirms.

“Now I feel kind of bad for you,” Red Hood says, before some bullets are fired. “Wrapped up here, moving to help.”

Red Robin seems glad to not have to reply and none of the other Gothamites do either. With what the League has heard so far, they’re also kind of happy the topic is being dropped, unsure what to think.

Batman’s associates are among the first ones cleaning up, however, soon others are joining them and the true battles grounds – yes, there are multiple targets, these people are organized (Batman will likely obsess until he has tracked down their organization afterwards) – are discovered and heroes move in to fight them.

Throughout the battle, everyone catches snippets of this strange, newly introduced group. A group, who works well together, like an oiled machine, yet obviously made up of highly competent parts that can act on their own as well.

Like Black Bat calling out: “Red Hood, yeet,” before those fighting alongside them see Red Hood boost her into the air, so she can come flying at the terrorists.

But they also make comments about the people they’re fighting and the others that are fighting alongside them.

Signal calling out: “Bluebird is pulling some sick ass moves. Another one for her on the slay-board, Oracle.”

Or Spoiler commenting: “Okay, not to be like that or whatever, but these terrorists are kind of looking snatched.”

To which Batman sighs: “Spoiler, please, no chatter,” in a vain attempt to get them under control.

“What?” Spoiler says. “I can appreciate when they’ve at least tried to pull a fit instead of that usual para-military, ninja type BS.”

“Go off,” Black Bat pipes up again and Spoiler cheers while Batman drops it. Defeated again.

They also check in on each other, with Red Robin hissing in pain, which is immediately followed by Nightwing going: “RR, you good, fam?”

“Gucci,” Red Robin replies. “Just low-key got stabbed.”

“There’s nothing low-key about getting stabbed!” Nightwing exclaims, getting called a hypocrite by many people, while Batman is already calling for Oracle to get a visual and for a medic to head Red Robin’s way.

By the time the battle is over, the Justice League understands how different the team is that Batman usually works with. If they were surrounded by heroes who talked like that continuously, they would have probably picked up some things here and there too.

Still, it fucking weird when Batman checks over his horde, before declaring: “You were all lit out there,” causing multiple of the kids around him to groan loudly, with Bluebird calling Batman a boomer.

Clark, however, sees a small uptick in Batman’s mouth. And in that moment, he knows Batman is doing it on purpose, that he’s enjoying it. That he’s fucking with them. He doesn’t know what to do with that, nor does he think that anyone will believe it. So, he decides to share the amusement and drop it.

They’re never going to figure out Batman.

~~

A/N:

This work is going to get dated so so so fast lmao, but it’s fun rn (if ur commenting in the future, welcome to outdated slang vibes from someone who wasn’t that up to date with current slang when writing it, bc im secretly a grandpa).

Hopefully I didn’t overdo it to an unrealistic degree, but if I did, such is the story that was being told oops

Also this whole fic is just an excuse for me to write batfam banter bc I love it lmao

I didn’t include Batwing, Batwoman and Flamebird here, sorry, but writing the batfam is always so hard bc there are so many characters T-T

[withleeknow]

how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, lil fluff, lil angst, mentions of physical pain bc it's shark week and we're cramping lol ok, unedited bc i wrote this a couple months ago and i just wanted to post smth today and i'm currently half asleep word count: 0.4k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

minho comes home to a quiet house, four of his favorite beings nowhere to be found. he takes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, put his keys where he can easily fetch them the next morning, and ventures into the living room. though, he soon stops in his tracks when his eyes find the couch situated in the middle of the room.

there’s a human-sized lump completely hidden under a fleece blanket on the cream-colored sofa, surrounded by soonie, doongie, and dori, all curled up and sleeping peacefully.

doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the lump is.

you, his love.

minho approaches the couch with careful footsteps and a pretty good guess as to why you’ve resorted to being a lump for the day. the tracker app on his phone did notify him that it should happen any day now.

when he sits down by your feet, soonie shoots up with a hiss before calming down immediately afterward, upon the realization that it's just his other owner.

“hey,” minho calls softly, placing a hand on your leg. “you sleeping?”

there’s a grunt, then the lump moves. he assumes it’s you shaking your head under there.

“does it hurt?” he asks.

the lump shifts again - a nod, he thinks - but this time, it’s accompanied by a softer sound, nearly a whimper.

he sighs, because he hates to see you in pain. hates that this helpless feeling has become a monthly visitor in your home. the first two days are often the worst for you.

“i’ll be right back,” he says, and again, he doesn’t get anything other than an incoherent noise, but it’s not like he was expecting a verbal response anyway.

minho returns a few minutes later with all of the essentials that you were in too much discomfort to get yourself. your trusty heating pad, a glass of warm water and pills, your favorite mango almond chocolate, a fluffy pillow so your neck doesn’t hurt from lying on the couch for too long.

peeling the blanket off so that he can prop the pillow under your head and give you the heating pad, he practically winces when he sees the pained expression on your face. you open your eyes to find him, and you look like you're close to crying. this month must be worse than usual.

“i’ll make you something to eat and then you can take your painkillers,” he tells you.

“thank you.” the words come out weak, but minho knows you mean them.

soft lips press themselves against your forehead, full of love and an unspoken i wish i could do more for you.

“i love you. give me twenty minutes, okay?”

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow (italicized = can’t tag)

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.04.2024]

[racinggirl]

i’m hunting your ask box at this point but i can’t really regret it, your writing is a masterpiece each and every time 🎉

today’s thoughts : smau where y/n and charles always ‘argue’ and make comments against each other on socials, leading people to think they actually hate each other (they’re actually best friends and lovers in secret, and sit together giggling as they tweet stupid shit about each other) they admit the truth with a post of them on a date with the caption “… enemies to lovers?”

the grid know they’re good friends but not that they’re going out until the posts, lando would definitely be like “yep i knew it i called it” when he really did not

lots of love!! <3

yourusername

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 73,710 others

An iced coffee a day... (only it's just frappuccino without coffee bc I don't like coffee) 🧋

view all 9,264 comments

user8 you're so real for this, queen

charles_leclerc someone needs to teach Y/N that frappuccino's are just coffee's sugary sidekick

yourusername sorry Charles, I prefer my beverages without a side of bitterness. user2 Am I the only one that feels like Charles and Y/N don't like each other this much? user10 Nope. user1 They hate each other lol

charles_leclerc

liked by user4, user5, user6 and 1,402,618 others

Let the season begin 🏎️ ❤️

view all 62,720 comments

yourusername goodluck, you'll need it 😚

charles_leclerc thanks, good to see you're unable to stay away from my posts 😉 yourusername someone should keep an eye on the chaos you bring to my feed. It's a public service, really. charles_leclerc a public service? I should be charging admission for the entertainment I provide 😘 user7 okay they are UNHINGED

yourusername

liked by user2, user7, user8 and 92,610 others

is it giving 'that girl' vibes? ✨

view all 5,277 comments

user4 YES IT IS 😍

charles_leclerc you're such a StarBucks addict 🧋

yourusername says the guy that's addicted to having a cup of espresso every morning

user10 wait, how does she know? user6 OMG what if they are dating? user2 lmao, they hate each other, I doubt they are willingly hanging out together

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, user2, arthur_leclerc and 104,175 others

no cap needed 🌎 ✈️

view all 9,610 comments

user1 liked by Charles AND Arthur? I thought they hated each other?

user3 Why do I feel like we're gonna get mind fucked, they are playing a game and we're all losing 😶

user9 I'm obsessed, girl you're living our dream 😩

user5 where are you going???

yourusername 🇯🇵 ❤️ user6 THE JAPAN GP? OMG

user2 hold up, no Charles x Y/N banter in the comments?

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, scuderiaferrari and 126,710 others

@charles_leclerc have to admit, I would make a pretty good WAG 💋

view all 15,710 comments

user9 OMG OMG OMG OMG

user6 WHAT IS HAPPENING OH MY LORD

charles_leclerc if only you would choose F1 over soccer 😘

yourusername I'll come back to you about that in a week

one week later

yourusername & charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, f1 and 2,516,470 others

Enemies to lovers?...

Took you a while to figure that out, happy 2 years baby ❤️

view all 74,571 comments

charles_leclerc I love you ❤️

yourusername I love you more ❤️ ❤️

landonorris yep, I knew it, called it

charles_leclerc no you did not, you tried to hit on her 😂 yourusername you could learn something from his flirting skills tho, at least Lando didn't ask me if 'falling down from heaven hurt' 💀 charles_leclerc It worked though, didn't it 😉

user1 TWO YEARS ALREADY?

user7 that sixth picture though 😩 ❤️

user8 I want what they have 😍

a/n: thank you for sending in the request sweety! It really means a lot! Hopefully you’ve enjoyed it! As I mentioned before, I will have a small break. I’ve got 3 requests in my askbox atm, but if you have an idea for a story, don’t hesitate to hunt my askbox again and send it in. I’m not 100% sure when I’ll be back exactly, but it shouldn’t be too long. Lots of love 💗

[catboybiologist]

Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

[yourpsicodelicbitch]

little thoughts on asteroid aspects ☄️

hii next time I’ll post the 3rd part of “juno signs and their specific love languages”!!

pinterest

take what resonates, leave what don’t 🎀 you don’t have to necessarily identify with it.

Circe (34) - Saturn aspects: you are sarcastic, like dark humor or people can think the way you entertain others could be quiet harsh or how I like to call it, “reality”. the ones that get it, the ones that don’t, don’t 😝

Bella (695) conjunction Pluto: your intensity and mysterious aura or acting attracts people. your controller and direct attitude drawns people bc of the security you hold in your words and how you carry yourself.

Bella (695) aspects also could tell what catches most people’s attention of you. for example, I have aspects with sun and pluto, others are intrigued by the bubbly and strong persona, even aggressive sometimes?

Peitho (118) square Chiron: you could have been manipulated, influenced by your family/people around you, you considered your loved ones or you trusted them. You also could have manipulated or started to being persuasive with them and others. in this lifetime you’re learning and understanding you have to be cautious of people’s persuasion bc in the past it affected you strongly. Most important, you could be a healer, later, when you have learned about your experience, you could use it as a way of helping others. You have a way with words in order to make them believe something, in themselves.

*persuasion and manipulation are not the same, but I do believe there’s a thin line you can pass in order to do the other. I also believe, specifically in this aspect, that in some point the persuasion of peitho could have passed to manipulation.

If you have a lot of Narcissus (37117) aspects on your natal chart, sure you are full of yourself BUT depends on other prominent planets/asteroids. For example: I have a lot of Narcissus aspects but I’m conscious about my possibilities and reality because of the impact Saturn -chart ruler- has on me. it’s like saying that I have a why and that certainly would not be called “full of yourself” but knowing my worth? perhaps they could be cocky at times and etc.

What aspect I saw influence in a “full of yourself” attitude? Narcissus (37117) aspecting Chiron. They’re insecure about themselves, if someone affirms they’re attractive they’ll think about it, again and again and the only conclusion they’ll have would be “they’re drooling for me”. One of the placements that aliments that vain attitude is mars dominant -mentioning to make more sense-.

Sassi (7500)- Uranus aspects: you could get away really easily out of trouble. I’ll compare you to a little devil -not really- but it reminds me of a little girl who has a “I did nothing” face and everyone believes her, she in fact did many things. asteroid sassi —> sassy.

Zerlina (531) - Venus aspects: shows you want to be in charge in your relationships -not only romantics-. reminds me of Uranus energy towards authorities: you don’t want to be told what to do, you want to be and that’s it. Depends on the aspect on how you manage that need/attitude.

If it’s square you have a conflict bc sometimes you want to be in charge and sometimes you wish others would take charge.

Diomedes (1437) - Mars aspects: if something bothers you there’s no doubt you’ll stand up by yourself, no matter who they’re, you don’t give a shit, you want them to pay. Others could affirm you turn into another person when you’re mad, you could use the power you hold. this also could be interpreted that you like to be dominant or the one who control things in bed. you could get turned on by people who has power or bothers you.

Kaali (4227) aspecting Ascendant: you hold a lot of power, to destruct and change. You have a lot of presence and when that presence is gone is obvious, people change because of you; something you left there bothers them and encourages them to grow. You’re unforgettable. You could feel the need to defend the weaker. You’re in constant rebirth.

Talent (33154) 6H can tell you have a natural talent of taking care of others, SADLY if it’s aspecting Chiron, it shows you, as a kid, learned to do it.

Ghoshal (17927) aspecting Mercury could mean you often feel others are not paying attention when you’re talking, your ideas, how and what you think. it’s really rare to encounter someone you feel it’s really interested in your mindset and share the same thoughts.

Canup (17836) - Neptune aspects can tell you need to be less delulu, separate what you think from reality -facts-, being more practical in order to become better in life, “reach your highest potential”.

♡ Based on personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[maltesejjong]

Its my first time putting a request so I'll try to sum it up!!

Could you make a bangchan x f!reader? Where yn and Chan have been trying for a child for abt 2 years they've had 3 or 4 miscarriages and after a long time, they have 2 beautiful twins!! (You don't have to do it if you don't want to!! Your health comes first 💗)

OMG ilysm for this. Thank you for being my first request, and thank you for trusting me to be your first request! Before I go any further, though, I want to touch on a few things with this one. First off: this is a very real thing that doesn’t get talked about enough . Miscarriages happen and there is no shame. If you have ever lost a baby before, please know that you are stronger than you think, and that you did nothing to deserve such a loss. Secondly: this is a major fear of mine. I want nothing more than to be a mother. I have had three moms throughout my life and I want to be able to give someone the love and protection the first two didn’t give me. I’m also the mom friend so yeah lmao. Finally, to all the moms out there, or those who would have been moms if not for this loss: thank you for all you do. You deserve more than what you have because you truly do the most unappreciated task in the world. You bring children into the world and give them life, regardless of if you lost the baby, there was still a life force that you created. That is an amazing accomplishment. I apologize ahead of time if any of that seemed insensitive but please know you are loved and appreciated. You are not alone🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

ONTO THE POST!

Warnings: mentions of miscarriages, that’s pretty much it. You’re married to Chan, afab!reader. Pure fluff! Oh, and mentions of girl dad Chan idk bout y’all but girl dad Chan needs a warning because he’s TOO DAMN MUCH ISTG HE IS A GIRL DAD

There’s a time skip bc I was lazy and wasn’t sure what to write as filler lol I’m sorry😭😭

Wc: Idek I didn’t count

Enjoy 😊

꒰ঌ(⃔ ⌯' '⌯)⃕໒꒱

You sigh and drop your head back to rest on the cabinet behind you. It had been almost two whole hours since you laid the damp stick on the counter and slid down to sit on the cool tiled floor. You had been feeling nauseous lately, but chalked it up to something you ate.

Until you realized you’re late.

By three weeks.

Three. Whole. Weeks.

You’re never late.

So, of course, you decided to take a pregnancy test.

While your husband was at work.

It’s not that you don’t want Chan to know. It’s just… after so long, after trying for this long, all the disappointment and heartache that came with each failed pregnancy, you learned to avoid the topic of kids. Specifically kids of your own. As much as you both want kids, the hardship of discovering each miscarriage broke your spirits.

So you’ve learned not to get his hopes up. Which is why you keep a secret stash of pregnancy tests. Because no matter what, you always get your hopes up when you realize what is most likely going on with your body.

You close your eyes, trying to relax your mind when your phone buzzes, bringing you out of your thoughts.

💙channie💙: hey princess. I’m on my way home

You: alright babe

💙channie💙: want anything from the store?

You: ice cream?

💙channie💙: ofc baby. I’ll see you soon love you

You: love you too. Drive safe💞

Sighing, you put your phone down, knowing you need to get this over with before he gets home. You slide your thumb over the diamond on your left hand before pushing yourself up to look at the results of the test.

“Shit,” you mutter. “I knew it.”

Four months later

You let out a sigh as the doctor spreads the cold gel across your belly, which, despite being four months pregnant, has stayed suspiciously flat. Hence why Chan never caught on.

“How’s the morning sickness?” Dr. Kim asks.

“Gone,” you say.

“Any general nausea?”

You shake your head. “Only when I sit or stand up too fast.”

He nods and hums to himself. “Any cramping? Abnormal bleeding?”

“None,” you happily reply.

His eyes flick up to yours. “Have you told your husband yet?”

You close your eyes. “No,” you whisper. “And please don’t hint to him.”

“Like I would,” the doctor scoffs.

Dr. Kim, as he is known at work, is one of your closest friends. The only time you ever call him Dr anything is when you’re in his office. Outside these walls, he’s just Seungmin to you. Your best friend since high school. He’s also the first person you tell when you’ve gotten pregnant in the past… and the first to know when you lost the baby.

“I can’t tell him, Min,” you say quietly.

“Why’s that?”

You feel your eyes start to burn. “What if I lose another one?”

Seungmin stops what he’s doing and grabs your hand. “Y/n, do you realize how long it’s been? It’s been four months. In the past, it only lasted half of that. I think it’s safe to tell him. You’re more than halfway through your pregnancy. Doesn’t he deserve to know?”

You bite your lip. “I don’t want to get his hopes up, though. It would crush him.”

“And it wouldn’t crush you?”

You blink back tears.

“Y/nnie, this is why you’re married. In sickness and in health, remember? You’re with each other through thick and thin. If this is gonna crush him, then let it crush you too. It’s okay to go through that. I understand protecting him, but have you ever considered that he wants to do the same to you, but he can’t? Let him in. Let it hurt if it ends up hurting. But you’ll heal together.”

“Minnie… as a professional… do you…?”

He understands your unfinished question. “Yes, love,” he says, eyes softening. “I think it’ll make it. So tell him.”

You take a deep breath and nod. “I will.”

*************

You feel something tickle your shoulder and sleepily roll away from it. But it returns, traveling up to your neck.

“Mmm,” you groan tiredly.

“Morning, beautiful,” Chan whispers against your skin.

You roll over to face him. “Morning,” you reply, feeling a loopy grin stretch across your face. You sigh contentedly when his hand slides up your waist and rests there, holding you close. You peek up at him, recognizing the glimmer in his eyes. “What?”

His dimples appear. “Nothing,” he instantly replies. “You’re just so pretty.”

You squint at him. “Is that all?”

“What? I can’t call you pretty?”

“Christopher Chan, I know that look in your eyes. Out with it.”

He props himself up on one elbow, half hovering over you. “I was thinking…”

“Oh boy, that’s never good,” you tease, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his soft black hair.

He closes his eyes in bliss for a moment, than takes a deep breath. “What do you think about adopting?”

You go still. “What?”

“Adoption. I don’t know I just think maybe it’s time to add another member to the family?”

You bite your lip. “But… baby. We already have another addition to the family.”

He looks at you, obviously confused off his ass. “We do?”

You nod, steeling yourself. “Well… it might take a bit but… yeah we do…”

“Love, what are you talking about? It’s not a very long process. Did you pick one out without telling me?”

You feel your eyes widen as you realize he’s not talking about the same thing you are. “Channie, what are you on about?”

“I asked you first.”

You shake your head. “Not until you spill.”

“A dog, babe. What else?”

“A… a dog?” You ask in exasperation. “I thought you were talking about a child, Christopher.”

“No…?” You watch his eyebrows join together in thought. “Wait. Back up. We already have another addition? What is that supposed to mean?”

Shit. “Umm…” you start to consider saying you actually did pick out a dog already. “Nothing.”

“No no no no no. Nah-uh. Y/n. What did you mean?”

You shake your head, refusing to answer.

“Fine then.” His hands meet your shoulders and he pushes you into your back, hovering over you. “You don’t wanna talk? Fine. Then I’m not getting up.” And he plops down on top of you, dead weight.

Of course, it hurts. Hurts even more considering you have an extra little someone residing in you. “Shut,” you yelp. “Chan get off.”

There’s something in your tone that makes him shoot up. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. “Not… not me…”

“Then who…” as his voice trails off, so do his eyes, until they land on your stomach. “Fuck. Wait. No.” He looks up at you. “No. Baby. What?”

You bite your lip and nod. “Yes.”

“Shit. I…” he places a hand on your stomach. “I— I could’ve hurt you,” he whispers, staring down at your tummy.

“Baby, look at me. Please?” He does and you cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s alright.”

He bites his lip. “Are… are you sure?”

You nod.

“How long?”

“Four… four months,” you whisper.

He blinks. Five times. “What?”

You nod. “I had an appointment with Minnie and he said everything looks fine. He said that I just have a late developing baby bump. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just didn’t want us to get our hopes up… But Min said that since it’s been so long and I’m already more than halfway there…”

Chan’s eyes light up. “There’s a chance?”

“A very high one. You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?”

“That I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He shakes his head. “Baby. No. I’m not mad love. I understand your hesitation to tell me. Truly.”

You blink. “Why are you so calm right now?” You bury your face in his arm, which is still planted next to your head. “I feel like I’m freaking out and I want to cry and… God I don’t even know.”

He presses a kiss to your hair. “Because I know freaking out won’t help you and staying calm is the best way to process this.”

You sigh. “Why are you so perfect?”

“Just part of the charm. Besides, I have two princesses to take care of; I can’t let myself be anything less than that.”

You turn to face him. “Two?” You ask, raising your eyebrow.

He smiled sheepishly. “I feel like it’s gonna be a girl.”

You hmmm in thought. “What if it’s a boy?”

“Then I’ll still be nothing less than perfect. I’m just saying I think it’ll be a girl.”

“I think you just want to be a girl dad,” you tease lovingly.

He blushes slightly. “Maybe.” He leans forward and nuzzles your neck. “I think id be a great girl dad.”

You kiss the side of his head. “I think you’d be a great anything dad.”

“We got this,” he whispers against your neck. “We always do.”

You wrap your arms around him. “You still want to adopt?”

He chuckles. “Babe, you just told me we’re having a baby, and now you want to add a puppy in the mix?”

You shrug. “Why not? We’re growing our family, right?”

He nods against you.

“So then let’s grow it.”

@linoalwaysknows Tysm again for submitting the request

[endemise]

long ramble, progress update, & potential release timeframe below:

hii! i got a lot of coding done and i think im finally satisfied with how the game looks (for now…)

here are some screenshots of what some of it will look like on mobile!

the friendship and romance levels shown in the relationship menu are just random as is the blurb for Aesop’s thoughts, they’re just for the example! (also characters thoughts are hidden by default, you click to reveal, then hide, them)

the stat bars were giving me hell but i finally figured them out with the the help of some forums and tumblr posts

i liked how in when twilight strikes by evertidings, the menu buttons (i.e. profile, stats, relationships) are listed at the top of the page so i took inspiration from that! and the many IFs that have a splash (?) screen at the beginning with the title

compared to when i started using twine (i think august 2023 was the first time i gave it a try), i’ve learned so much and there’s still so much to learn as well, i think coding has become my favorite part (making things looks pretty hehe)(with the help of amazing templates & ppl smarter than me, they do the heavy lifting fr)

with all the coding done (appearance wise) it’s lock in time for the revised prologue and chapter 1

the prologue has undergone a fair bit of change with the help of feedback & i’ve (hopefully) better established the setting and story.

some things that have changed besides wording and sentence structure, etc.: being able to choose what you did as a job (ex. working at the family inn) and meeting a new character (more like an old friend?)(no spoilers:))

some things i’ve been considering (SLIGHT SPOILER FOR CH.1 MAYBE): merging the revised prologue and chapter 1 into just the prologue bc chapter 1 differs a bit from the other chapters, but then the prologue would maybe be too strange timeframe wise? it’s a time skip after the events of the prologue (is that considered a spoiler, i don’t think so but???) that connects to the next chapters so maybe it’d just be better as its own chapter? or dropping the revised prologue by itself along with the updated ui/appearance then chapter 1 sometime after, or dropping the revised prologue and chapter 1 together, idk these are all just ideas i’ve been thinking about maybe i’ll do a poll

if you have anything you’d like to see, for example a specific job your MC worked, certain personality traits, or something like that, feel free to let me know & i’ll take them into consideration! i think now is the best time to add things bc it’s early development days & it’ll be easier to do so now than later

i’ve also decided to lean a little more into the supernatural aspect which i’m excited for (one specific thing really, i can’t wait to get to it🤭) the story’s world itself is fairly grounded in reality (as in the supernatural is unknown to most) but i’m looking forward to exploring it more

what you’re probably reading this for: depending on how i end up going about the prologue-chapter 1 merge decision & whether anything is added from requests/feedback, i’m aiming for a june release, july at the latest (fingers crossed). now that the appearance and function coding is complete (besides stat/choice tracking & other story related things), finishing the writing and coding it in is all that’s left

my schedule has done a 180 & some things are less than ideal at moment but it should all (hopefully) go smoothly from here! should anything change, i’ll let you all know

anyways, that’s all i have to say for now! ty for being patient & for reading this mess, i appreciate you all :)

[rookiesbookies]

Hi i love the empress and male!concubines idea with the COD boys, I def think that it'll be interesting to see more hcs for this idea/au?

Alright my little anon. Truthfully I should have given more details in the og post (it also started as a rant about how I couldn’t handle a poly relationship because of my anxiety (I also saw a post about a girl who had 4 partners and didn’t get any attention and it made me sad so that's also way).) I have been stewing on this idea though so here’s some hc. Might do more if people are still interested in it or want more, I do love talking about my AUs (like this one and the Greek god one, so let me know if you want me to go more bc stuff like this rattles around my brain)

Also apparently there is a term for a male concubine and they’re called concubinatus or a concubinus. Honestly I took Latin and the fact I didn’t expect this lowkey brings me pain.

General HC?

The first empress in a long time. And the first empress to like her concubinuses (hope that's right) more than the idea of marrying for an emperor. So the council decided to bring you only the best warriors to keep. They of course still must serve occasionally but they have been elevated in status to there is lower risk anything will happen. Mostly kept as tacticians or kept to train the new boys joining the country’s military.

Konig and Krueger were taken as trophies of war for the Empress. They were two of the largest, smartest, and strongest men from the battlefield.

When the two were adjusting, it was difficult. The empress was gracious with them, mentioning how she wouldn’t dare make them do anything, apologizing for the war and the loss. Truthfully trying to get them comfortable, and the two were honestly shocked but I’ll get into that more in their sections.

Keegan was sent as a gift by a neighboring nation looking for peace and protection. He had a good time adjusting, sometimes making comments about how this treatment is too good for nasty military dogs like all of them but I’ll touch on that more later.

Price

Price was probably the first concubinus. He had been a strong warrior and was deemed by the council to be a good fit for what they were hoping for. He also, however, did not intend to retire from his position so they had to find an alternate reason to stop him from getting in trouble.

For him it was awkward. His empress was a bit younger than him, however he did crave to be a father. While the empress didn’t intend to fall pregnant yet, he would be on his best behavior when the opportunity came.

The chance to be the father of the next royal was something he couldn’t miss.

Soap

Both him and Gaz were best in their class, breaking records, so it only made sense it seems to send them to the empress once they got their prime years out of them.

He was probably the last concubinus to come in before the gift and the trophies of war. He has the more vicious puppy eyes. He waits for you like a dog every time you leave and enter. Always talks about how much more comfortable your bed is and how nice it is to lay with you. Definitely sweet talks you even though he’s already a concubinus.

Will literally do anything you say and it’s partially because he thinks he will get sent back to the military full time if he doesn’t.

Ghost

Definitely does checks on all the palace guards to make sure they’re up to spec. If even one slacks he uses his power to make them run.

This is all because of how gracious the empress has been with him. When he had a fit of ptsd (i'm thinking anxiety attack or something) she invited him into her room and away from the others so he didn’t feel embarrassed and comforted him as best she could before making him some tea. With an empire that stretches across Europe he was impressed she had the time to stop and care about a random concubinus.

Definitely was surprised he told you as much as he did and how you listened and comforted him. Telling him you’d never make him do anything he wasn’t comfortable with was something he appreciated.

Gaz

See the first paragraph of Soap’s bc Im not copying it again.

Since I feel like Gaz is the older of the two (he seems to have a maturity I dont see as much in Soap idk?) He was sent to her first of the two for his ‘semi-retirement’. Now they just need them to occasionally train incoming recruits.

He definitely enjoyed adjusting to the cushy life of the castle. He liked being able to keep his weapons since he did double as a personal guard for the empress. But he likes that he and the other concubinus get a hot tub more, definitely likes all the fancy clothes.

His job is the have sex with his sexy empress, what’s not to love?

Konig

Truthfully, when he was being cocky toward the other concubinus and you pulled him away into a separate room to tell him you knew he was compensating for his anxiety, he was more than shocked. He was stunned into silence.

So when you reached your hands under his hood and rubbed his cheeks, telling him it was ok and he didn’t need to act out, he melted. He had never truly been shown such softness, so to be shown it by the empress of the enemy? He was so conflicted. With a pat on his chest you told him he could take on his position fully when he was more comfortable and that you were concerned for him and there if he needed to talk. He was still quiet.

Krueger

Was not interested. No matter how many compliments you gave him or gifts you sent, he wouldn’t budge. He was grumpy and hostile. So much so he made the other concubinus nervous especially for you.

It wasn’t until you pulled him into your room that night that he relaxed quite a bit under your soft hands and apologies. Massaging his tired muscles, and lulling him into a sense of security. Now he understood how Konig folded so easily.

He offered to return the favor but you told him not until he was more comfortable and made him promise to play nice. He agreed but only to be a bit nicer.

Keegan

He honestly believes this treatment is too good for all of them. They were dogs of war, animals trained to kill, and now they’re dressed in fancy clothes? With an empress who dotes on them when they should be doting on her? Truthfully he baffles him. He isn’t ungrateful, he just didn’t expect to become a concubinus when sent here. He expected a joint military operation or to be a representative. He hit it off quickly with the group from the empire’s military.

The two from the war keep to themselves and the shorter one threatened to bite him.

Often feels the most out of place because he is the only one from his area, but he doesn’t complain. He gets nice gifts and is invited into your room pretty often, so he appreciates every moment. He wonders if it would be proper or allowed for him to get you gifts?

I was surprising more eager to write this ask than I thought. Let me know if yall want me to do formal parts to this? Maybe an actual fic for this au?

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

[the-crustation-sensation]

Even more Hobie x reader hc’s!!

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A/N Just SFW for now bc I have NO ideas for smut currently 😭

I might post some later tho <3

As always I write these for anyone to insert, so non-gendered terms are used (:

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* I am SICK AND TIRED of you guys hcing him as a dirty troll. just bc he’s a punk does not mean he doesn’t have fucking hygiene skills. Yes ofc he’s Spider-Man so he doesn’t have a lot of free time but it’s not like he goes a month without showering

* I feel like most of the time he smells like old cologne (probably something with musk, oak, or vanilla) and weed

* I’m also tired of you guys hcing him as a toxic asshole (bro LITERALLY helped miles without even knowing him, and how already homies within like the first 10 minutes of meeting)

* With that said you already know he’d be the most caring and attentive partner

* He definitely has a note on his phone of things you like, are passionate about, and mentioned wanting. It just keeps growing bc he wants to keep track of everything you love 😭

* Anytime he gives you a gift he hand makes it (or alternatively gets it from a small business) he says it feels more meaningful and personal

* I think his love languages are acts of service and physical touch

* This man is obsessed with showing you off to EVERYONEEE. He would definitely pull you onstage during one of his concerts just to be like “hey everyone this is my S/O”

* He would love walking around with his hand in your back pocket, or yours In his

* He’s a crow, 100% picks up random stuff off of the sidewalk that caught his eye and gives it to you

* kind of a huge klepto He does not hesitate shoplifting from big corporations when he sees something he knows you’d like

* Although he would never EVER steal from a small business

* Just imagine he comes home and gives you a shirt for a band you like and you see the security tag is still on 😭 and he’s like “what 🤨”

* Definitely a “hmm?” “Oh yeah?” “Is that so?” “Make me” type of guy (SCREAMING)

* He’s such a tease, and just a brat in general. Just imagine your fed up and ask him to do something and he pulls the “yes ma’am/sir” move

* He’s the type of help bust you out of a holding cell/help you run from the police (he’s your partner in crime I’ll die on this hill)

* He love starting harmless beef with people online for no reason, specifically getting into fights with kids on ROBLOX just to see them get mad

* Man has like 1029292 emails to make new accounts bc he’s gotten banned from doing this so many times 😭

* He loves playing video games with you. especially if your playing something like cod or a racing game he would aggressively wiggle your controls to mess you up and act like nothing happened

* Ok ok hear me out, he doesn’t believe in games or things having an age limit, so he would play those 2 player ROBLOX obbys with you. He also LOVES playing horror games with you, you guys always yell at eachother over who has to go in front tho

* Y’all can communicate without even speaking ISTG

* He discreetly nudges your shoulder during a meeting and side eyes someone in the room, translates to “you see this shit??” Glancing towards the door then at you “let’s ditch this” peeking over someone’s shoulder and making eye contact with you while he’s talking to someone “HELP ME.” Or alternatively “is this bitch FR??”

* He has the mouth of a sailor, has taught mayday multiple cus words and acts like nothing happened

* He LOVES kids, absolutely loves them, he would be such an amazing parent

THIS IS HIM PROVE ME WRONG

* This might be an unpopular opinion but I don’t think he would give a shit what race/gender you are, he loves you for YOU and doesn’t care what color you are or what’s in-between your legs (in short he’s bisexual and doesn’t give a shit about whatever you are, he’s here for your personality)

* I think his favorite flavor of juice would be cranberry, but like the rlly tart cranberry juice

* Height thing’s but not because your short, just bc he’s freakishly tall

* As a fandom we’ve already established he does the thing where your cooking, or minding your own business, and he hugs you from behind and puts his chin on your head/shoulder

* I don’t think he has a “type” per say, but I feel like he’d prefer people who are also in any sort of alternative culture (punk, goth, emo, alt, and I dare say earthy/fairy TO AN EXTENT counts for that)

* I am biased because you can’t tell me this man wouldn’t fuck with a goth bitch, or just another punk (his WEAKNESS is punk girls)

* He loves doing makeup for you, especially eyeliner because that gives him and excuse to get you to sit in his lap

* If you don’t already play guitar, he would defiantly teach you by sitting behind you with his head on your shoulder to show you the right cords

* And he’s definitely gonna be praising tf outta you “good job” “yeah, you got it love” “mhm just like that”

* He also loves doing your hair/helping you do/cut your hair, no matter what texture it is

* I feel like before he settled in punk he went through an emo phase in middle school, and HATES his pictures from that era, like he would tackle someone to get it away if they found any trace of it

* He probably had some fuck ass fake piercings because his parents wouldn’t let him get real ones, and crusty eyeliner in his 7Th grade school photo

* I think his first face piercing was a nose piercing he got done in the school bathrooms in 10th grade by some girl with a safety pin

* It 100% got hella infected and he got so grounded for that

* He puts you first in almost every situation, like it he’s in the middle of a mission with another spider, and you text him, it will be like that scene with miles fighting the spot because he will text you back no matter WHAT

* I’m not sure about this one but I think his world is set in the early 70s (when punk fashion started getting more popular) so when he first came to HQ and saw all of this new text he was amazed and confused as hell

* It took him like a week to figure out most of that shit at HQ

* Most people don’t know he lives on a house houseboat, but I absolutely love that.

* Shit constantly falls off of his shelves from the waves but he couldn’t give 2 fucks about it

* he hates being called “Hobart” if you call him that he’ll either not respond, or know that your PISSED and shits about to go down

* he’s definitely pansexual or bisexual, like I said he loves pussy and dick equally, I feel like also hes either a transman, or AMAB and gender-fluid. Either way there’s no way he’s a cis man, he ATLEAST is he/they

* if he is a transman he would get top surgery but I don’t think he would get bottom surgery, he loves his man-pussy and he thinks if your too brainwashed by society’s gender norms then fuck you

* I think he would also get vines or mushrooms, or like barbed wire tattooed near his top scars

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Alright that’s everything I have for today! If you have any ideas please don’t hesitate to comment or to hit up my asks! I have a few asks I’m currently working on but I also have a bigger original story I’m writing so I’ve kinda been in writers block

If you want to be apart of my tag list don’t hesitate to ask (:

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[kyojurismo]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟔 : 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. +18 nsfw, 1.9k words, age difference (reader is in her 20s, satoru is in his 30s), top!satoru, dub-con, fingering, nipple play, degradation, not proofread + pls notify me if there’s something else to tag, i’ll fix it asap.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. hello dear readers. i know it took me a whole month to start posting something for my kinktober event, but life (and my depression) got in the way, so i wasn’t able to fully dedicate myself to writing (i take this opportunity to also remind y’all that 1. i do it as a hobby and 2. eng is not my first language). starting w day 6 bc i suddenly got the desire to write for satoru lol. well, that’s all from me now, i hope you guys will enjoy and please be sure to read the tags carefully !! ♡

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

satoru gojo was a close friend to your father, they worked together and sometimes he would invite satoru for dinner. he was charming and funny, so of course it never disturbed you. he also looked incredibly handsome, with those beautiful light blue eyes and white hair.

he looked so sad when you mentioned you were gonna move out for college, saying that he liked your young presence and your sense of humour, especially how you two often ended up talking about scary movies — a passion you two had in common.

you recently got back home, your father’s birthday was getting closer and you wanted to organise something to celebrate it, as long as help him decorate the house for halloween.

you weren’t exactly a fan of halloween costumes, more like you enjoyed the atmosphere and watching others dressing up as something.

you finished preparing yourself a snack when your phone started ringing, your father’s name appeared on screen.

“hey dad!”

“i’m gonna get home late tonight, i’m sorry baby. gotta catch up to some work, but we can watch the movie once i’m back if you’re not sleeping already. how does it sound?”

you took a couple of seconds to reply, because well — you’ve been looking forward to it for days, but you also knew that his job was important and that he couldn’t really left early because ‘he has some movie to watch’.

“yeah, sounds good. i’ll try my best to stay awake.”

“great! i asked satoru to pass by and check on you. i think he’ll bring something to eat too.”

“dad… i’m not fourteen, i don’t need a babysitter.”

“i know, i know. he just offered since it’s his day off.”

“whatever. see ya later.”

you hung up the phone and rolled your eyes. it was obvious your dad asked him to come over and check on you, but you didn’t mind it that much. he would leave quickly and you would end up having the rest of the evening all for yourself.

at least, that what you thought.

“i’m so surprised to see you,” you opened the door, sarcasm clear in your voice. you didn’t expect to see satoru dressed up as none other than the slender man. you chuckled, checking the mask a bit closer. “wow. you really got into it, huh?” satoru didn’t answer at first, playing the part before you rolled your eyes and walked back into the kitchen, leaving him there.

you heard the door closing a couple of seconds later, while grabbing your sandwich. satoru took off the mask and sighed deeply, glancing around the place. “what if it wasn’t me?” he sounded serious, concerned about your careless behaviour. “my father told me you were coming over to check on me, mr. babysitter.”

he rolled his eyes and put the bag with your food on the kitchen island, before looking at you. “what are you up to tonight?” he casually asked, watching you eating your sandwich in silence. you shrugged before meeting his eyes. “i’m gonna read or watch something, waiting for my dad to come home. what about you?” you smiled innocently, as if you didn’t have in plan to do a marathon of your favourite horror movies.

“dunno. my friend ditched me, so i’m all alone in this frightening night,” he pouted before smirking at your change of expression. “i’m talking about suguru, not your father.”

you rolled your eyes and pretended to be offended. you finished eating your sandwich and put the plate away. “well? are you leaving?” you asked him, making him gasp dramatically. “kids today are so poorly mannered! is this the right way to treat an old man?”

“you’re not that old, that’s also why i don’t get it how you became my father’s best friend in the first place,” satoru was around thirty years old, like ten years younger than your father. “i’m everyone’s favorite person,” he winked and you shook your head, chuckling. “you’re not, really.”

satoru looked offended and followed you into the living room, waiting for an apology. he got none. “whatever. can i stay over? maybe we can watch something together,” he asked you, genuinely interested in doing so. you thought about his offer, knowing that it wouldn’t hurt to have some company. “hm, okay. but i’m choosing,” you glanced at him while sitting down on the couch. “yeah, sure. just pick something scary.”

halfway through the movie, satoru started shifting towards you, making it look casual. you bit your inner cheek as your leg touched his, stiffening a little.

“scared?” he murmured during a moment of silence, you shook your head. “hm,” he licked his lips before looking at you, noticing how you were growing nervous.

in reality, he had been looking at you differently since earlier. you felt strange about it, but you tried to ignore it for your own good. maybe he just wanted to mess with you a little like he would usually do.

one of his hand reached your leg and started caressing your clothed thigh, you shivered and quickly glanced down at it as your heart skipped a beat. your attention was caught by the size of his hand, before you slowly looked at his face. satoru’s eyes were glued to the tv, causing you to turn towards it a bit too quickly.

were you misreading the whole situation or … ?

“satoru,” you gathered some courage to call him. “what is it?” his voice sounded deeper and you gulped louder than expected, causing a smirk to appear on his face. “what—” you gasped as his hand tightened its grip on your thigh before moving closer to your center. “hmm?” satoru finally turned to look at you, your heart pounding rapidly into your chest as he casually cupped your sex. you unconsciously clenched your thighs, trapping it between your legs.

“i’m sorry, this movie is becoming more and more boring,” he spoke casually, looking unbothered by the whole situation. he acted like he wasn’t touching your body at all.

your cheeks grew warmer, you tried to find the right words and ignore how it all was affecting your poor body. it was wrong, he was your father’s best friend and he was older than you. it was very wrong… right?

the way his hand was grinding on you caught your attention and you snapped out of it, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “we-we can’t do this… it’s wrong,” you murmured, pushing it away. “is it though? your body is telling me something else,” he chuckled and finally met your face. his gaze felt much more intimidating now, as he hungrily stared down at you.

you felt slick gathering in your underwear and you shifted uncomfortably on the couch, causing a low laugh to escape satoru’s lips. “now now, why lying?” he suddenly pulled you closer, sitting you on his lap. you could feel his erection right against your lower back, which caused your whole face to grow warmer.

“satoru, wait–” you tried to say something else before his hands pushed your legs apart, then his hands reached your chest and he grabbed your breasts, groping you experimentally. you bit back a moan, squirming under his touch. “sensitive, hm?” he went to pinch your nipples, playing with your boobs as he liked.

a sparkle of excitement filled your guts, even though a part of you knew it wasn’t right, some other was trying to convince you to give in and let him touch you. he was an experienced man for sure, different from other college students. a part of you was also craving some well deserved release. you tilted your head back, closing your eyes. you jumped as his hands slapped your thighs, making you shiver and moan softly.

“i wanna hear every sound coming from your little mouth, you got that little slut?” satoru spoke right into your ear as one of his hands slipped under your shirt while the other sneaked into your leggings, starting to caress your clothed clit. his hands were cold compared to your actual body temperature, and that caused another shiver to run down your body.

“this is wrong,” you whispered, more for yourself. he smirked and rubbed your clit faster, his hand finding a way to slip under your bra and finally touch your hardened nipple. your will to fight the moans caused by the pleasure provided by his skilled hands left your body and you finally gave in.

you moaned as satoru pushed two fingers into your wet channel, taking advantage of how much wet you were already. his long fingers were able to reach spots you couldn’t, which made your stomach turn as whimpers escaped your parted lips. “you’re this wet for your father’s friend, hm? and those sounds, that some real slutty behaviour,” satoru’s tone was completely different from before, he kept speaking — degrading, you while his fingers worked inside your cunt, thrusting deeply and hitting the perfect spot to make your toes curl and cause your back to arch, unconsciously pushing your chest into his hand. “what are you, some college whore now?” his lips kissed right under your ear, biting your neck softly before licking your shivering skin.

“n-no,” you tried to argue back, your hand grabbed his wrist desperately as you grew close to your climax. “no? then why are you this wet? you enjoy getting manhandled and fucked, huh?” satoru’s movements never faltered. “the way you’re clenching on my fingers tells me you like being degraded too.”

you were too embarrassed to reply to any of his accusations, but also too focused on the incoming orgasm. you tried to clench your thighs together as your pussy spasmed around his fingers, gushing hard as you finally came while crying his name.

you sobbed when his thumb massaged your pulsing clit, making you jolt in his lap and almost hitting his chin with your head. he chuckled at your reaction, deciding to play with you for a couple of seconds more before finally leaving your poor pussy alone.

as his hands finally resurfaced from inside your clothes, you clearly saw him licking his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste. he seemed satisfied even though you were the only one who had the privilege to have an orgasm that night.

“well, little star,” satoru moved your body off of him and placed you back in your previous position, you were still a bit dizzy from what just happened. “time to go,” he got up and stretched, before turning to look at you. “you should change yourself, hm?” he glanced at your ruined leggings before cupping your cheek with his large palm, caressing your warm skin. “i’m proud of my little slut,” he murmured before tracing your lips with his thumb, smirking at you. “goodnight,” he then patted your head and walked towards the main door, opening and closing it in a swift motion. he left as if nothing happened, he didn’t asked if you enjoyed it or not — your cunt sure did. your head was filled with too many thoughts at once. it was alright, it was wrong, it felt good, he knows how to treat a woman, he’s an asshole, it was so hot.

then one single thought filled your mind, causing you to fall back against the cushion of the couch. you found yourself staring at some random point in front of you.

satoru gojo, one of your father’s best friends, made you cum with his fingers… and it felt a bit too good.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @naomi-nana @euphiroo @eynnwwyjth @titantears @plast3c @katsuslover

[myouicieloz]

A little help

Aeri Uchinaga x aespa5thmember! reader

Synopsis: You’ve been stressed from your group’s tour: so many shows and planes have been tiring you off. Thankfully you have an special bandmate to help you with that.

Giselle helps you use Ning’s vibrator.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk ?, gets kinda rough ?, mentions of blood — reader is a virgin, nsfw. dom!giselle x sub!reader.

Word count: 3.2k

Notes: I MIGHT (like 85% might) rewrite this bc I fucking hated it. It’s too repetitive, I think. But I wanted to post it anyway so enjoy I guess xx. Not checking for any errors tho ˆˆ muah. I’ll try to improve for next time!! write something new, perhaps. We’ll see.

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

-

“Ning let me have it.” You display the sparkly green vibrator in front of Giselle, showing off the horrible thing to her as if it were your most prized possession. “She said she doesn’t need it anymore now that she has her girlfriend’s long ass fingers.”

Giselle dropped her phone, finally giving you the attention you wanted.

“She did not say that.” She snatched the toy out of your hands, and you let yourself fall in her bed, scoffing.

“Ok, she didn’t say that, exactly, but she did let me keep it.” You looked at her with sparkly eyes, giggling with excitement. “Will you help me try it? The shows are killing me, and I’ve been dying to use it the whole week.”

Giselle stopped staring at the thing with disgust, looking at you instead. “Why didn’t you?” She asked, curiously.

“Why didn’t I what?” You frowned at her question, too busy with your phone: Karina was asking if you wanted to go swimming later. The Uchinaga grabbed your phone, throwing it away to the other side of her big bed. “Hey!” You protested, shooting her a hard glance.

“Why didn’t you use it, then, if you were dying to all week?” She repeated herself, already feeling her core heatening up. Specially when you refused to look at her in the eyes, shrugging weakly.

“Because you know best.” You answered shyly, remembering her words from the dorm, on the other day. “Right?”

Giselle’s eyes darkened, and she stood her hand for you to take, guiding you to the middle of the bed. She smirked, perhaps a bit too wickedly, caressing your long hair until her fingers ran out of length.

“Right, of course.”

-

You caught yourself looking at her eagerly, hands on your sides to see what she’d do, following her lead towards the center of the bed.

Sure, you could be in your room, pleasuring yourself, but you’ve tried to — too many times, and none of them felt as good as the pleasure you’ve had with Giselle’s fingers. Also, you two were friends, right? And it was just sex, as she’d said it before. Nothing changed between you after that day at the dorm, so surely nothing would change now. You just needed a little help.

She was still only staring at you, which made you look away, feeling your face start to get red.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” You mumbled, impatient and embarrassed to have her focus solemn on you.

“You need to undress first, Yn.” She said, giggling. You pouted, knowing you were still too shy to do it, but she cut you off before you could whine. “Don’t you want me to help? I can’t do it if you’re still so full of layers.” Giselle gestured to your clothes. Seeing how you still made no move to take them off, she got closer, tapping the hems of your top. “Come on, Yn. We’ve been past this. You have a beautiful body, ok? Stunning, even. And I want to see you.”

Her words helped you gain a little more confidence, and you really wanted to get yourself off, so you quickly removed your top and your shorts, panties following with much more ease than last time. Your bandmate’s hands went straight to your breasts, pinching your nipples slightly as she checked for your reaction, grinning when she was met with the sound of your moans.

“N-no teasing.” You told her as Giselle’s mouth went straight to one of your breasts, her other hand massaging the neglected one with a squeeze.

“But your tits are so pretty, Yn.” She praised, mouth leaving your chest with a trail of saliva in her mouth. She cleaned it off, reveling herself with how hungry you looked at her eyes.

Giselle had waited, eagerly, for you to come back to her, not wanting to make things awkward or to have you uncomfortable in the slightest. You were friends and bandmates, most importantly, and she wouldn’t trade that for any sex in the world.

So when you showed up with that horrid green thing in your hands, Giselle already knew she’d have a handful, having to remind herself to take things slow; you were still too naive, and she’d teach you just right, without rushing anything.

But fuck her if you staring at her with your big, doe eyes full of lust didn’t nearly make her lose it all and straight up fuck you until you were crying and begging for her to stop.

You pushed yourself further to face her front, so close you could feel her breathing, too. It was fast, erratic, and it made you smile to know you riled her up as much as she did to you. Your fingers caressed her arms, pleading with your sweetest voice. “I want to see you too, Unnie. Pretty please? You didn’t let me last time.” You reminded her, making Giselle laugh and distance herself to take her clothes off, this time.

“Your reward for asking so sweetly, then.” She said, winking at you as you took her in. She was beautiful, almost alluringly so, and it made you salivate at the thought of making her shudder, too. However, you knew she wouldn’t allow that to happen now, so you let yourself be pulled back to the big pillows of the bed as Giselle reached for the green toy, pressing it on the lowest mode.

You can’t seem to take your eyes off her as she spat onto her hand, bringing it to your pussy as her saliva is spread in your slit, humming in delight as it mixes it with your growing wetness. It makes you moan loudly, reaching for her to get a glimpse of her touch, her skin—anything. She was still focused, though, toying with you as she grins.

“So soaked already, baby? But we’ve barely started playing.” You mumbled something entirely incoherent, closing your eyes as you felt her fingers teasing in, two of them circling you up and down. She rubbed a few circles on your clit before entering sloppily, the sounds of it echoing through the room with your moans.

You felt a light tug on your hair, but Giselle’s mouth was soon all over your collarbone. Before you could even complain, she was sucking and marking your skin, your moans escalating with each passing moment. As much as you love to have her mouth on you— and God, you love it so much, you need more, and it doesn’t take much to make you into a pleading mess. You mutter pleases and mores until the words from your mouth make no sense to your brain anymore: all you can think is how hot your skin feels, and how slow Giselle’s fingers are working on you.

“Do you need something else, pup?” The older girl asks, looking at you greedily as you whine.

Of course, Giselle knows exactly what you want, what you need. You reached out to her asking for it, after all. Yet, she will still make you beg.

Her nose brushes your ear as she takes her fingers out of you completely now, making her busy with spreading your wetness all over your abdomen. “You look… restless. If you want something, you just have to say it, you know? I promise I’ll give it to you.”

She’s mean, and you so desperately want to smack that sneaky grin out of her face. However, her humid fingers are pinching your nipples, and the curses slip from your thoughts. Your mind is clouded by the urge of surrendering to her, so she’ll give what you so desperately want as fast as possible.

“I w-want.” You try to say, but she’s sucking on your sensitive breasts once again, already so sensitive from her teasing before and— “Oh, fuck! Please…”

“I do need more than just pleases, though.” Her strong hands squeezed your boobs, making you let out a low growl. It was painful, but how come it felt so good? You couldn’t master the feeling. “Say it, and it’s yours. What do you want, Yn?” She indulged, loving to see your reactions.

You were too spoiled for your own good. Being the maknae had its privileges, you’d say. The girls— all of them, often showered you with praises and presents, taking extra care to do whatever you asked them to. Wether it was to fetch some water later at night because you hated to get through the dark hallway of the dorm to go to the kitchen; or changing a step in the new choreography because you felt too silly doing it, and it made you uncomfortable; they’d spoil you rotten: you’d never have to say the same thing twice. Just think about it, and it was done for you.

Naturally, Giselle making you beg made you restless. It made you hate yourself, too, with how wet you got from her making you do it— humiliate yourself for her. How much you loved to be completely at her mercy.

“I want the, f-fuck. You to fuck me with the vibrator. Now.” She lifted an eyebrow at your impatient tone, but you held her gaze with defiance.

“Forgetting our manners, are we?” Giselle asked, gripping your chin as she muttered against your breath. “Do I have to let you do it yourself, then? If you’re so sure of it?”

“No!” You pleaded, all the confidence gone from your tone as you held her, to keep her from going away. “Please, please fuck me, unnie. You know it feels better when you do it.” The older girl laughs as you try to use all your strength to pull her in. “I can take it, I swear. I’ve been p-practicing.”

Giselle’s eyes went dark again, and she cocked her head at you.

“What do you mean by practicing?” She was no longer touching you now. It was almost painful to not have her on you, and you already missed the sensation of your skin on fire, all red, bruised and filled with her saliva. “Have you been touching yourself without me, Yn?” Her tone was harsh, and it made you recoil a bit at her coldness, stuttering as you whispered.

“Maybe?” Her touch was back, thankfully, though slightly different from before. It was decisive, intense—almost rasp, the way her hands squeezed your hips, your thighs, your arms, no longer caring about not leaving marks or scratches on your tanned skin. You were sure there was a big pool of wetness on the sheets, and she hadn’t even used the damn toy on you yet.

God, she was so hot like this, handling you the way she wanted to.

“We will have none of that, baby.” She announced, suckling— no, biting on your neck harshly before retreating to grab the vibrator. “I’m just going to have to teach you the hard way, then.”

It certainly shouldn’t arouse you that much.

-

You watched eagerly as Giselle positioned the vibrator against your cunt, biting her lip at the sight of you: hair clinging onto your back, skin marked in bruises, with your beautiful chest moving up and down fast from excitement.

“I still don’t think you can take it, though.” She told you as she entered the tip of the toy on your slit. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make you wince at the discomfort.

You did want this, though. You wanted more.

“I want this. Please.” You reminded her, trying to push yourself, so it’d reach deeper. Giselle immediately gripped your hips, stopping you from moving. “I can take it, I promise.”

She compelled to your wishes, positioning herself a bit higher so she could start thrusting on you. It did hurt, and you winced. She went slow at first, kissing your neck as her muttered praises against your skin, nibbling her teeth through the skin.

“Don’t tense, baby. Just take deep breaths for me, okay?” She asked as you nodded, slowly soaking in with each thrust. She kept the toy a little deeper with each passing time, and soon your groans were replaced with moans of pleasure. It still burned, but the combo of her soothing your skin and the repeated movements made you cry for more.

“More, please.” You said, bucking your hips, so she’d speed her rhythm. When Giselle didn’t, you grabbed her wrist, forcing the vibrator against your cunt, hoping it’d reach deeper. Your erratic movements, however, made her nails immediately dig into your thighs.

Shortly, she switched back, her other hand brushing your neck teasingly as she opened a dangerous smirk.

“Do you want to do this on your own? Since you’re so eager to take the lead yourself.” Your bandmate asked, her cocky tone matching the way she looked down on you. It wasn’t a sight you were used to, being taller than her and constantly towering over the older girl, but it aroused you just the same.

You simply denied, being slapped on your thighs in response. “Words, Yn.”

“N-no.”

“No, what?”

“I want you to d-do it for me.” you placed wet kisses on her neck, a whiny mess. “Please, Unnie. Please make me cum.”

And just like that, the green piece was positioned on your slit again, making you shudder.

Giselle thrusted the toy all the way in, making you scream as you gasped for air. Her eyes were trained on your pussy, adjusting herself, so she’d give your clit attention, too. It was too fast for you, with the pleasure building up in quick waves down your abdomen.

“Wait! It’s too mu-“ You tried to say, but Giselle locked her lips on yours with hunger. She licked your lips sloppily, not once motioning to listen to your pleadings.

“Wait for what?” she mocked your tone, wasting no time pushing the dildo all the way in. “You said you could take it, right? That you were ready?” her pupils were blown, and she had a wicked grin on her face—if you weren’t so focused on getting your breath and adjusting to the pain of being stretched, you’d notice how much she was enjoying herself. God, she loved to have this power over you. Of how you were so quick to beg, completely on her mercy, ready to do whenever she wanted you to. “So take it.”

Giselle kept marking you, alternating between kissing your lips and leaving hickeys on your neck— like you weren’t on tour and wearing such revealing outfits lately. “You should see yourself like this, Yn.” She murmured as her fingers circled your clit roughly, applying trained pressure and making you feel sure you’d go crazy at any given moment. You rolled your eyes, drunk with all the different sensations. “So pretty, doing so good.” The praise grounded you, making you hum as you clung onto her, lifting your back from the cushions, so you’d be even closer.

You felt the pleasure completely overcome you, making you scratch Giselle’s back without thinking about being gentle, either.

“I’m going to c-cum.” You announced, hoping she wouldn’t try to make you wait. You wouldn’t be able to, since your orgasm quickly overcame you, along with the strange sensation of having to pee straight away. It didn’t help that your bandmate hadn’t stopped thrusting, either. If only, she’d resumed her movements to slow thrusts, making sure to twist and play with the green toy however she saw fit.

“Beautiful.” It was the only thing she said, and it was making you crazy that she wouldn’t stop. With her eyes trained on your body, she saw the way your abdomen was still fast in its movements, trying to match your heavy breathing.

You mumbled, scooping her as you felt Giselle take the toy away from your pussy to place herself next to you. She knew how needy you got after you came, so the girl quickly gathered you in her arms as she kissed your hair, murmuring praises and sweet things to you.

“M’ tired.” You told her, even though you knew you had to get yourself cleaned up.

“I know, baby. I’ll help you, though. You won’t have to do much.” She grabbed a great piece of your hair— which was drenched in sweat, moving it away from your sweaty body.

Her words made you giggle. You specially liked when she took care of you, even more in moments like these, although it still made you reluctant to accept her help. “I can do it by myself, Unnie. It’s ok.” You assured her, staring at her adorable pout.

It amused you how quickly she would switch on those situations.

“Of course you can.” Giselle blushed, suddenly shy. Her tone was hesitant as she continued, her fingers lightly tracing your collarbone, still all red and coated with her dry saliva. “It doesn’t mean you should, though. You’re tired, and probably very sore. Let me, please? I can even give you that massage you’ve been whining so much to get.” She offered, and you took a moment to think about it.

It wasn’t the wisest decision, to be this close after such an intimate moment, specially when the two of you had a silent agreement to make it just about sex. About pleasure.

But you were tired, sore, and needy, so you allowed yourself to be held by Giselle as she took you to the bathtub, washing you up and changing the messy, bloodied sheets before you nested yourself on her million cushions.

“Just this once.” You told her, crawling towards the middle of her bed with wet hair and one of her silk pajamas — the ones you loved and Giselle always hid, so you wouldn’t steal from her.

The message was clear: no attachments, just friendship and sex. It was as simple as daylight.

As if any of you could have a clear idea over whatever your silent agreement was.

Giselle nodded, cuddling you as she turned the tv on, scrolling over Netflix for the drama she had been watching lately.

“Sure.” She said, although her tone bore a bit of mockery as she watched you besides her, eyes closed and a peaceful look on your face, as if you hadn’t gotten railed like crazy earlier. “Just this once.” She repeated herself, in a low tone.

You slept soundly for the first time in days.

-

“I messaged Karina, by the way.” You heard her say, moments before you drifted off. “Told her you weren’t feeling so good, so you’d skip the pool.”

You scoffed, mumbling with closed eyes.

“I wanted to go swimming, though.” You felt Giselle poke your ribs, and you tried your best not to laugh, pretending you were mad at her. “Kill joy.”

“I should just let her knock on your door, then, since you always close it properly.” She teased, making you flutter your eyes open, embarrassed.

“You wouldn’t!”

She laughed soundly, loving to mock you. “Oh, Y/n. I would.”

[coconutcordiale]

misconceptions

pairing- jake 'hangman' seresin x female!reader x bradley 'rooster' bradshaw (no use of y/n)

synopsis-

“You know, on account of your whole aggressively heterosexual, toxically masculine, 'I'm God’s gift to women' thing.”

Only Hangman is shameless enough to be offended at something so obvious. “I’m not aggressively heterosexual.”

warnings- 18+ minors DNI, (& glen don't read this shit please i'm embarrassed), allusions to previous threesome (m/f/f), voyeurism, implied threesome (f/m/m), public teasing, you prob shouldn't fuck in cars while they're moving bc seat belts/safety but this is self indulgent so let me live, fingering, edging, crying, praise kink, oral (f receiving), soft dom bradley, not so soft (but not really mean) jake, light dumbification/ degradation/ something along those lines, brat tamer boys, established rooster x reader relationship

length- 3.7k idk why my pwp is like this god help me when i finish something that's more than banter & smut again it'll be a billion words

an- I WAS working on something that didn't have smut but then miles posted that fucking picture- blame him. so here we go again...I don't...know what this is and i actually kind of hate it but i need it out of my brain. I'm sure rooster x hangman x reader has been done to death but I made an allusion to it in up to no good and well. yeah. so technically this is a sequel to that but you don't need to read that first because any illusion of plot in this is just a means for smut. *hides and blushes like a slut*

I want to say the entire premise of this is crack but my guy friends have convos like this at the bar all the time so who knows. I mean it's still ridiculous but...idk also the working title of this was bob fucks even though he's not even it and I thought that was amusing

“Knockout, five o’clock,” Payback mutters, looking behind you and Jake. “Looks like she’s got her sights set on you, Seresin.”

Jake manages a quick look over his shoulder, smirking when he turns back around because she is, in fact, gorgeous and beelining straight for his side of the table.

He rolls his shoulders back and winks at the group. You make a fake gagging noise purely out of reflex and nothing else, you swear, contemplating going up to the bar for another drink just so you don’t have to bear witness to this. You’re about to get up when you catch a very feminine hand out of the corner of your eye, going to tap you lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey,” the girl says, sidling up to you and immediately turning her back to Jake. “Where’s Bradley?”

Oh.

“Still on base,” you reply, quickly smiling in recognition. “It’s good to see you, Ash, you look good.”

“I’ll say,” Ashley answers, eyeing you up and down. She raises an eyebrow when her gaze gets to the hem of your sundress that’s resting a little high on your thigh. “I’m in town for a few days, come find me later if he makes it up here tonight.”

You duck your head, fighting the blush rising up your neck. “Maybe, I’ll let you know.”

“Please do.” Ashley winks, running her hand down your arm to the inside of your wrist, just this side of too familiar. She gives you a quick squeeze with delicate fingers and you hope no one notices the goosebumps raising on your arms before she turns on her heel to disappear back into the crowd.

You stare decidedly at your beer after Ashley saunters away, feeling everyone’s eyes on you and wanting to avoid this conversation as long as possible.

When you finally look up Phoenix is clearly fighting back a giggle, but her eyes are directed to the right of you, at Hangman.

“What the fuck was that?” He finally croaks after a few beats of awkward silence, mouth dry.

Phoenix reaches over to smack him upside the head. “You can’t really be this stupid.”

Jake is pretty sure he isn’t but he’s also kind of thinks he might be having a stroke.

“Always thought you guys were so boring,” he says dumbly, mouth agape.

Phoenix sighs, like she can’t comprehend how she ended up surrounded by so little intelligence, leaning over again to close Jake’s jaw. “Don’t mind him, up until two minutes ago he thought you and Rooster only banged in missionary.”

You blink.

You can’t believe that just came out of her mouth so casually.

You’re going to kill Rooster for not being here to endure this with you.

“Why…have you been speculating about how Rooster and I fuck?” You ask finally, slowly, pretty sure you don’t want to know the answer. Lack of self-preservation makes you ask anyways.

“Well, there had to be some sort of explanation for why it’s so easy for you to rile him up,” Jake declares, voice going a little high.

Huh.

Terrible logic but you suppose that could’ve been worse.

Still. This is a discussion you have negative interest in having. In public. With all your friends right here. With Hangman, of all people.

“Can we talk about something else? Like, literally anything else?” You don't want to beg, but this entire conversation is making your leg twitch.

“Nope,” Payback answers immediately. “We need more information.”

“We have questions,” Fanboy concurs.

You want to crawl under the table.

“I have questions too,” you shoot back instead, figuring you'll try going on the offensive. “Why do you guys want to know about our sex life? Because I’ve heard way too much from your girlfriends and I now have to live with that horrifying knowledge for the rest of my life. Why would you want those details voluntarily?”

Phoenix hums in agreement and you’re overwhelmed with the urge to hug her.

“Is that right, sweets?” Jake grins, clearly having recovered somewhat.

“Not you, Jake," you shoot back. "Thank God you haven’t dated anyone long enough for me to become friends with her.”

You studiously do not mention that he’s probably the only one you might welcome salacious details about.

“Because the rest of us aren’t having threesomes,” Payback adds, ignoring the blonde. “We’re jealous.”

You cough, averting eye contact. “Well, some of you are.”

They’re all staring at you again and you shrug. “Look, Bob fucks, not my fault the rest of you don’t.”

Jake has hit Ctrl-Alt-Delete on his temporary recovery, chunked the laptop that operates his brain out the window, and is now definitely having a stroke.

“You…and Bob?”

You scrub your hand across your face, not sure how much more of this high-pitched Hangman you can handle tonight. It’s making you edgy. “Not with me. Keep it together, pretty boy.”

Normally, you’d rejoice in the slight pink tinge gracing Jake’s cheekbones when you call him pretty boy, in one upping Hangman for a second, even if you’re the only one that notices. Tonight, it only scatters anxiety through your bloodstream.

At this point you decide to just get up and leave the table. It’s probably for the best.

“Are you gonna make it?” Phoenix asks Jake after you’ve made your way to the bar.

“No,” he answers petulantly.

•••

Hangman looks decidedly more like his usual self lounging across from you and Rooster in the booth you've taken to hiding in and you're silently thanking the whiskey he's switched to for it.

He's a pain in the ass, sure, but when he's not bantering with you, you're not even sure what to do with him. Shrill is not a word you thought you'd ever have to use to describe him, you're practically trembling at the memory of it.

All that means you're smiling, a little wicked, while you lean into the warmth of Rooster’s body. “Don’t worry, Hang, no one expects you to have a threesome unless it’s with two other girls.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of his head and you bite back a snicker. Direct hit. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

When you’re pretty sure you’re not going to laugh directly in his face, you wave your hand dismissively, hoping the wild hand gesture captures Jake’s whole air. “You know, on account of your whole aggressively heterosexual, toxically masculine, ‘I’m God’s gift to women’ thing.”

Only Hangman is shameless enough to be offended at something so obvious. “I’m not aggressively heterosexual.”

“Twenty bucks your tongue is down some poor girls throat by the end of the night.”

“That’s called having game,” he retorts. “I’ll have you know I’m a very enlightened man. Good to know you pay so much attention to my conquests though, sweets.”

He winks and you immediately wonder why you were grateful for his mood shift.

“Conquests, seriously?” You fight back a gag. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Jake.”

You hope the use of his real name emphasizes your disappointment in him.

Rooster’s gaze is flitting back and forth between you two like he’s watching a tennis match, expression calculating. “I don’t know that I feel like calling Ashley tonight.”

Both of your mouths snap shut when you register what he just said.

Where did that come from?

“Well, that figures, little bird. I’m surprised you knew what to do with both of them the first time around.” Hangman grins around his glass before taking another sip of whiskey.

Rooster rolls his eyes, but otherwise waves off the dig. “I just think there’s something else princess might enjoy a little more.”

You immediately feel heat rising to your cheeks. That explains his abrupt timing.

“Rooster,” you manage to grit out, warning in your tone as you tighten your fingers on his thigh.

He ignores you, because he knows you. Knows what you secretly want, what you’re too embarrassed to say out loud, too proud to admit. If you weren't so busy being uncomfortable you'd have warmth spreading through your chest at the knowledge that he just wants to take care of you, give you what you need.

Rooster runs his hand up your bare thigh, playing with the hem of your dress, and it sends a jolt of electricity through you before immediately blowing a fuse in your willpower.

“Come on, baby," he murmurs. "Don’t you want to tell him what we talked about the other day? After the beach?”

Crimson is painting itself across your cheekbones, you’re sure of it.

Recognition crosses Hangman’s face and he clears his throat, which is suddenly dry.

“Talk about me a lot while you’re fucking your girl, Bradshaw?” He taunts, but there’s something thick in his voice, something rapidly glazing over his bright eyes.

“Rooster,” you say again, but this time it comes out a little whinier, a little more abashed.

“Baby, it’s okay,” Rooster soothes you, gentle and doting, because he always knows how to make you melt like butter. “I see how he looks at you.”

Hangman fiddles with the rim of his rocks glass, but he doesn’t deny it.

If you were more present in this moment, if you weren’t so distracted by the need suddenly, insistently thrumming through your body, by Rooster’s hand burning on your thigh; you might be amused at this role reversal, Rooster calm, collected and bordering on cocky, while Hangman shifts across from you, curiosity making him jumpy in his seat.

Rooster’s mustache tickles your cheek as he runs his mouth across you, mouth moving to latch onto the sensitive spot below your ear. Your lips part of their own accord as you feel him move his hand under the skirt of your dress, brushing his knuckles against where you’re already soaking through your panties.

Meeting the green eyes across from you feels hot like burning and you tuck your face into Rooster’s neck to hide from it, biting your lip to keep from letting out the truly obscene noise that’s bubbling in your chest. “Can we please go home, babe?”

He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin so you’re forced to meet his gaze, tilting his head in the direction of the man across from you. “That depends. Are you gonna be a good girl for him, baby?”

Well, Rooster certainly isn't waiting patiently on his perch tonight then, is he?

Your breath hitches, everything in your body going still for a moment when you hear him, before words come tumbling out of your mouth.

“Yes, yes, yes, I promise, Bradley, please,” you whine softly, fingers gripping the edge of his open shirt, looking for something, anything to keep you grounded.

“Jesus,” you hear faintly from the other side of the table. When you look up you catch Jake’s eyes, pupils blown so wide they’re practically black.

Your boyfriend’s lips twitch upwards, but he’s not looking at you. Instead, he’s turned towards the blonde, while his fingers continue running up and down your clothed slit. “Gorgeous like this, isn’t she?”

“Christ, Bradshaw. Understatement of the year. What a nice surprise this is.”

“Only gets better the more you tease her,” he promises.

“I’m right here,” you protest, narrowing your eyes at the two men. You’re aiming for annoyed but you’re pretty sure the words come out petulant instead. If you were standing you might even stomp your foot.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you feeling a little ignored?” Bradley coos with a quick peck to your cheek, hint of condescension in his tone.

Jake shoots you a wicked grin, mischief lighting up his face. “Should’ve known you’d be a fuckin’ brat.”

“Bratty girls don’t deserve to get what they want, do they?” Bradley asks Jake, but his eyes are on you.

You pout, looking up at him and trying to look as cute as possible, hoping an innocent expression might get you out of this little predicament.

It usually works on Bradley, but Jake just snickers from his side of the booth.

“No, they don’t. Not sure they deserve to wear panties either.”

“The man makes a good point,” Bradley agrees, tearing his attention from your imploring eyes.

Distantly, you’re glad he’s angled his body to block you from the rest of the bar, because Bradley is working baby blue lace down your hips, lifting you slightly in the process, before settling you back down with your feet in Jake’s lap under the table.

Jake sends a cheeky wink your direction as his hand runs up the inside of your leg, squeezing your calf, then thigh in a way that could really only be described as affectionate, which sends shivers down your body right to your core. He pulls your panties the rest of the way down, letting you catch a glimpse of his fingers running over them before he puts them in his pocket.

“Drenched those, didn’t you darlin’?” He drawls, as he stares you dead in the eyes and licks your slick from his fingers.

Your mouth drops open of its own accord and before you even have a chance to recover you feel fingers pressing against your bundle of nerves. Thankfully, Bradley kisses you a moment later, swallowing the moan that leaves your lips. “Shh, we don’t want everyone to hear, do we?”

“Fuck, she’d probably like that, wouldn't she?”

You blink slowly, eyes struggling to focus as they move between the two men.

Bradley smirks. “Poor baby, lost your words already?”

Your brain has been wiped clean so you can only mewl quietly in response.

“Think she might be obedient enough to go, now,” Jake offers.

You’re pretty sure you look drunk as you stumble outside, Bradley supporting you with an arm around your waist, nearly carrying you out.

When you reach the car, he turns to deposit you into the other man's arms. “Just don’t let her come till we get home, yeah?”

Jake grins. “Sure thing, Bradshaw.”

The moment you’re in the back of the Bronco Jake is all over you, pulling you in for a rough kiss.

He manhandles you onto his lap, pulling your back against his front as his hand slides up to your jaw, forcing your attention to Bradley in the driver’s seat.

You meet Bradley’s stare in the rearview mirror, and he grins, clearly enjoying how debauched you look in Jake’s lap, as much as he can while driving, anyways. Your mouth parts as Jake trails his down the side of your neck, across your shoulder, leaving red bite marks as he goes.

You’re thinking about how powerful Jake looks behind you, completely unbothered by your boyfriend’s eyes constantly darting from the road to the mirror to watch you both, when his hand slides underneath your dress, bunching it up and out of his way, leaving you bare against his pants.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, fingers flicking expertly at your entrance. “You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but blush, head ducking down as you focus on the wispy material of your dress falling haphazardly off your chest, breaking your gaze from the front of the car.

“Jake,” you whimper, grinding back onto his lap.

He clucks a noise of disapproval and your stomach rolls unpleasantly at the idea that you’ve disappointed him already. “Let him watch your pretty mouth moan my name, sugar.”

You snap your head back up at his words, rushing to comply, rushing to be good, only to meet cheeky, dark eyes in the mirror. Your mouth drops open as Jake eases a finger into you, gaze fixed on Bradley as heat washes over you.

Jake adds another finger, and then twists, while his thumb rubs insistent figure eights along your aching clit. If you had any sense, you might be bashful at how your legs are already shaking where they’re bracketed around his.

You vaguely remember Bradley’s instructions before getting in the car, but you can’t help the pleading falling from your lips anyways.

“Wanna come, Jake, please, please, need it,” you whine, squirming in his lap, on his fingers, against the bruising hold his other hand has on your hip. You can’t get comfortable, can’t stop moving, it’s not enough, you need more.

He chuckles, the sound mocking, bordering on mean, and you can’t help but shudder at the way it shoots heat right through you.

“I could let you come all over my fingers,” he muses languidly, pressing slow circles on your clit, like you have all the time in the world in the back of Bradley’s bronco. The yes, please, is on the tip of your tongue when he continues, words hot in your ear. “Or I could edge you with my mouth until you cry.”

You and Bradley suck in simultaneous sharp breaths at Jake’s words and you can practically feel the amusement radiating from him.

“Sweetheart, you gonna tell me what you want?”

You’re biting your lip to keep the obscene noises threatening to tear from you muffled, teeth so tight on your swollen lip you’re surprised you haven’t drawn blood.

His fingers still after a few torturous seconds of you attempting to remember how to make decisions. You could do that, at one point in your life, you think.

“Asked you a question.”

Frustrated, your eyebrows knit together as you try to form words. “Jake.”

He grazes his teeth across your neck, and you can feel that infamous smirk against your skin. “As pretty as you sound saying it, my name is not the answer.”

“I…fuck, Jake, I don’t—” you mewl brokenly, hands going to his arms, pushing, gripping, hoping you can get him to move again, give you what you need.

“Seem to remember you promising you’d be good for me.” Jake continues, as if you haven’t spoken at all and there’s a steely edge in his tone that sends another wave of heat straight to your core.

“Sorry, sorry, Jake please, sorry, can be, I swear,” you babble. Your voice sounds foreign to you, high and whiny like it might crack and break if you don’t get his approval.

“Be a good girl and tell me what you want, then.”

You’re flushing with embarrassment at this, you know what you want, but it doesn’t make your cheeks flame any less to have to admit it. “Your mouth, please, Jake need your mouth on me…”

“Good choice, darlin’,” he murmurs, lifting you up and laying you down on your back as he bends to put your legs over his shoulders, kneeling impossibly in the backseat. “Knew a slutty little thing like you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were wrecked.”

He must be really flexible, you think helplessly, before his tongue licks a stripe up your slit and drives every other remaining thought from your body.

He works those thick fingers into you again, curling them at the same time he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.

Your back arches involuntarily, stars suddenly dancing across your vision. Worked up as you are he brings you to the edge quickly, and you stupidly think he might actually let you go over.

Just as your whines are hitting their crescendo, just when you’re so close you can practically taste it—he pulls back, mouth suddenly moving down your hip, away from where you want him, fingers retreating to leave you clenching around nothing. The noise you make in response is obscenely close to a wail, bringing tears to your eyes.

You blink them back hard, determined not to let Jake win so quickly.

He nips the inside of your thigh, making you spasm in surprise. As soon as you’ve come down from the sheer disappointment and not a second later, he’s back on you, lips and fingers working determinedly to wind you up again.

Jake continues his little routine, one, two, three more times until you’re sobbing, unable to hold the tears back as they leak from the corners of your eyes. Your hands are tight in his hair, trying to keep his mouth on you, terrified of him stopping and leaving you frustrated and aching again.

Hazily, you’re aware that the car isn’t moving anymore, that if you turn your head a little to the left you can see Bradley biting his lips and white knuckling the steering wheel, eyes fixed on you in the mirror still. That there’s nonsense pouring from your mouth in between the cries, as you writhe against Jake’s face, I need, Jake please, please, I can’t, Jakejakejake, I—

“You can let go for him, baby.” You hear Bradley’s deep voice cutting through the fog in your mind.

His words tingle across your skin, at the tip of every nerve ending, as your muscles start contracting, giving in to what you’ve been begging for since you got in the car. It crashes into you, an avalanche rumbling through your body, back arching in a moment of pure perfection. And all that’s left is a glowing, fuzzy feeling, warmth spreading through your chest like you just finished a shot of whiskey.

“Jesus,” Jake whispers as you come down, mouth trailing softly up your stomach, your chest and across your jaw, to brush your lips. “Fuck, sweetheart, such a good girl for me.” His words are muffled as you taste the tang of yourself on his mouth and wrecked as you are you still preen at his praise.

The driver’s side door opens and shuts with a definitive thud, pulling you and Jake out of your stupor. He gives you one last peck before dragging your dress back down, although you suffer from no misconceptions that it’ll help you look any less debauched.

You let yourself be tugged out of the car and into Jake’s arms, limbs leaden and slow on your way to your front door as your brain catches up with your body. You list against him, eyes fluttering closed as Bradley digs around for his keys. Once he opens the door he turns to you, smirking at the dazed expression washed over your features, the lazy blinks as you try to focus your eyes.

“Aw, baby, you can’t be tired already,” Bradley coos, reaching up to hold your face and affectionately running his thumbs over your cheekbones, wiping away any errant tears. “We’re just getting started.”

[minustwofingers]

i need to tell you something

pairing: ellie williams x reader (no pronouns used for reader)

summary: you muster up the guts to confess to your best friend when she gets bit, but things go an unanticipated direction when she has a confession of her own

warnings: violence, ANGST!, swearing, painful yearning, ellie was low key maybe not the best gf to cat (???)

a/n: yeahhhh so i just wrote this rq. the poll is irrelevant now bc i'm posting this anyway. sorry that it's not enemies to lovers!! i thought best friends was calling for me to write it instead. physics tutor au may be more aligned w that kinda vibe. anyway enjoy x

wc: 1.9k

tags: (so sorry if i missed anyone, i'm being a little bad about adding tagged stuff but i promise exoplanet will have updated tags!)

@intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower​

It happened so fast. One moment, you and your best friend were goofing off and joking around as you checked one of the abandoned cottages in the outskirts of the woods. You were pretending not to notice the way that your shoulders brushed as you went through the doorway, pretending like you didn’t yearn for a touch from her that was for once intentional.

The next, you were lying on the ground next to the same best friend, swallowing back the scream in your throat as you stared at the fresh bite mark on her shoulder.

The air smelled of damp wood and blood, the decrepit sitting room of the cottage dark and sheltered from the sun outside.

It was sunny outside. The world was cruel like that. You’d never be able to see the sun again without thinking about losing Ellie.

You’d thought you’d checked everywhere. You were sure of it. But then when you were goofing off trying to raid the cabinets and steal some extra CDs that you two could watch together later, you heard Ellie’s shriek and a crash. 

It was the worst sound you’d ever heard in your life. Your vision went red as you saw the bedraggled, barely-human figure of a stalker crouch over her, digging its disgusting hands into her skin and snapping at her. You fired off 5 shots in succession, not stopping until it was limp. 

Even while you were dragging it off her, praying to any God that might’ve been up there that she hadn’t been bitten by that thing, you were still hoping that maybe you’d been quick enough. Maybe you’d been fast enough, smart enough, strong enough to save her. 

You knew it had been a pipe dream. You knew, but the sight of the blood pearling at her freckled skin in the shape of a mouth and her torn shirt still made you gasp in horror and drop to the floor next to her.

“No. No, no, no, no.” For some reason that was the only word you could bring yourself to say. 

She was panting, her chest rising and falling with exertion from the fight. 

Or maybe she was turning. It was a shoulder bite, after all. Those didn’t take long.

“I’m so, so, sorry.” Your hands found her face and cupped her jaw, letting your eyes meet hers. 

“Y/N, wait—”

“I should have seen it,” you continued, shaking your head. “This is my fault. I’m so sorry. It should’ve been me. You don’t deserve this. I’m not going to leave you.”

As you spoke, tears slid down your face, blurring your vision until Ellie looked fuzzy.

Her hands wrapped around yours, pulling them from her face and intertwining your fingers as she laid them in her lap. “No, Y/N, don’t—”

“I can’t go on without you,” you said between choked sobs. “I won’t do it.” 

The warm sun coming in through the window pane above you felt like a nasty joke. The golden light lit the back of Ellie’s head, reflecting off of her auburn hair like a halo. She’d never looked more beautiful. And she never would again. 

“I need to tell you some–”

“Wait,” you interrupted, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping her hands tighter. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you go in a minute. I just—I need to tell you something too, okay? Before…before…”

You hiccuped and tried to shrug your shoulder to your cheek to catch the waterfall of tears and snot on your face. 

“You’re freaking me out,” Ellie complained, resting her head against the wall and sending you a weak smile. 

Her casualness, her fearlessness, her overall Ellie-ness made you nearly crack again, but you had to keep it together. You had to get this out. She couldn’t leave without hearing this. 

“Listen,” you began, your voice wavering, “I, uh…I don’t know how to say this. I’m sorry if this isn’t something you want to hear. Oh, god, actually, this is really selfish of me. Nevermind.” 

Because it was. These were the last few moments of Ellie’s life, and you were making it all about you. She didn’t see you like that, that much was clear. You’d once thought otherwise—but that was before Cat, before you saw her smile the same way with her and let Cat kiss her in front of everyone whenever you saw them around your friends. 

So maybe it would be better if you just didn’t say anything. That way she wouldn’t look back on your memories together as creepy.

Ellie swallowed, then discreetly cast her gaze down to her right arm, just for a moment. “You can tell me anything, you know. You always could.”

The words brought a renewed wave of tears to your eyes, and you did your best to valiantly fight off the lump in your throat long enough to get the words out. 

You supposed that if she was asking for it, she deserved to know the truth. 

“Look, I—I really—” The words died in your throat.

Ellie was still and quiet, patiently waiting for you to finish and letting you hold her hands in a vice grip. She was always like that—so stoic and strong.

“I don’t know how to say this,” you repeated, turning your gaze back to your tangled fingers. “I don’t want to ruin the way you remember our friendship.”

“You couldn’t do that if you tried,” said Ellie, her lips pulling up. “I like you too much.” 

It was stuff like that that made you want to rip your hair out and scream into your pillow. 

I like you too much.

Just when you thought life couldn’t get any crueler, the purgatory of queer yearning always had a funny way of proving you wrong. 

“I don’t want to keep lying to you.” Your voice wavered as you looked anywhere but her face. “I’ll always see you as a friend. I know that’s what I am to you. And I promise I wasn’t, like, being gross about this when we hung out.” The past tense made your stomach churn. Hung out. You’d never get to spend time again with her after this. Speed it up, Y/N. You’re running on borrowed time. “That’s to say that I really do love being friends with you. I always have. It’s just that—” 

This had to be the most painful confession in the history of the world. Maybe you should just ask Ellie to bite you to put you out of your misery. 

“I’ve always wanted more with you,” you forced out. “Like—more than friends. Ever since I met you.”

Ellie was suspiciously quiet for so long that you began to worry that she was already turned. You dared to peek up at her through your lashes. 

She blinked twice in rapid succession upon meeting your eyes, her face otherwise void of emotion.

“I need to confess something too,” she said slowly, her voice significantly more even than you’d expect for someone preparing for their death.

If she was going to say that she felt the same way, you weren’t sure how you’d ever get over this. 

“I’m immune.”

Oh.

“What?”

Then she laughed at you—actually laughed at you, her eyes crinkling.

“I’m immune,” she repeated, her lips stretched into a wide smile. “I was trying to tell you—but god forbid you let me finish anything I want to say—”

You tried to snatch your hands away from where they were entwined with hers in her lap, but her fingers refused to let up. “How do you even know that?!” She had to be lying. 

“Because I’ve been bitten before,” she said. Her eyes were sparkling with mirth. “Twice, actually. And that was years ago. And look at it. It doesn’t look like other bites, right?”

You reluctantly gave it a closer look. True to her word, the tell-tale growths of the Cordyceps were nowhere to be seen, something unheard of for a bite so close to the head after a few minutes.

It was the real deal. She really wasn’t going to turn. 

You never knew it was possible to feel this mortified. 

“You’re such an asshole,” you snapped, finally succeeding in freeing your hands and pushing yourself away so you weren’t touching her. “You barely even tried to tell me. You let me embarrass myself.”

She shrugged, amusement still pulling at her mouth. “I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to hear what you had to say.”

“Well, that was very impolite of you.” You crossed your arms and looked away from her, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Just forget I said anything, okay?” 

“Hey.”

There was a hand at your elbow, pulling you so you slid across the hardwood until your knees knocked together.

“Look at me,” said Ellie. Her voice was soft, almost gentle. You rarely ever heard her like this.

When you didn’t comply, the hand that wasn’t at your arm came to your chin, tilting it so she could see your face. 

Ellie was still smiling, but there was something else in her eyes—something that wasn’t just amusement, 

“It’s the same for me,” she said. Her skin was warm against yours. “Ever since I met you.”

Your heart stopped. “What? But what about Cat?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t think you saw me like that. I thought seeing other people would help.”

“And did it?”

Ellie winced. “Obviously not.”

“Poor Cat.” You weren’t sure how else to respond.

“Poor Cat,” Ellie agreed. 

Shyly, your hand came up to brush back the piece of hair that had escaped from her bun, letting your fingers rest on the back of her neck.

You’d never touched her there before. You’d never had an excuse to touch her intentionally. Doing so felt almost criminal, like you were breaking some sort of unspeakable barrier. 

But then she pulled you in and kissed you, and you forgot all about arbitrary rules and the now antiquated platonic label that defined you two.

It lasted for just a moment, her lips brushing against yours as you leaned into her, your fingers tangling into her hair. The gentle warmth of the sun hit your hand, and you twisted it so your forearm lay flat against her. 

It was a mistake. Ellie cried out, startling you as you wrenched away from her. There was something warm and wet on your arm—which, upon further investigation, was the blood from the bite you’d accidentally pressed into as you maneuvered your hand.

“Shit,” you said. You’d totally forgotten that she’d still been injured regardless of her immunity. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ellie said, though you could tell she was hiding the pain. “Sorry. It didn’t hurt that much.” 

“Let’s go back,” you said, standing up as you held out a hand. “We’ll get that cleaned up.”

You’d been worried that kissing her would change things. Maybe she’d decide that she didn’t actually want you after all and that she didn’t even want to be friends. 

But once she’d grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together as you both walked down the road back to Jackson, you found that there was nothing to worry about. Not anymore. 

final a/n: im gonna be so real and say i love the premise of this but this was a littleeee bit of a flop in my book i didn't know how to end it but i hope you all enjoy this as a way to hold you over while i finish p5!

[archie-sunshine]

Survey Says-! (18+ Rodimus/EVERYONE)

Chapter 5: Software Update (Rodimus/Brainstorm/Perceptor)

Rodimus is NOT bitter about the results of the crew satisfaction survey, in fact, he’s fully prepared to change! He’s determined to change his crew’s minds, and what better way to do so than to get to know them- in the carnal sense that is. 

There are no problems with this plan in Rodimus’s mind. There are many in Ultra Magnus’s. Magnus engages in some unfortunate(for Rodimus) damage control as head of Cybertronian Resources. Rodimus is not easily deterred. 

Other Chapters Here! Read On AO3 Here!

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FIC TAGS: Rodimus/Everyone(But y’know, not like. EVERYONE. Just a lot of various background characters and also more specifically with some others), Takes place post dark cybertron, but pre the whole ship disappearing thing and the mutiny, smut, Chastity, denial, Rodimus is a slut, Ongoing humiliation, HR Violations as comedy, Ultra Magnus is clueless, sticky sexual interfacing, comedy, sexual comedy, dubious consent (if you squint and tilt your head), contains illustrations

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Authors notes: Okay you guys simply MUST hear me out on this one okay? this one was the fun chapter for archie to have fun writing. okay? okay. btw this chapter is extra long bc it kinda got away from me

CHAPTER TAGS: Plug n play, brain fuckery, submission, bondage, brief loss of bodily control, threesome, throatfucking, thigh fucking, rodimus is ignored in favour of whatever the fuck percey and brainstorm have going on

The broken dataslug felt like it was a thousand tons bouncing around in Rodimus’s subspace. He could keep kicking himself about his fuck up, and probably would be for the forseeable future, but he was on the way to fix things. He could faintly hear the sounds of work down the hallway from the lab, the fizzle of sparks and the whirr of machinery. Rodimus prayed that he’d catch Perceptor alone again.

He tried not to feel too upset when he heard the sounds of conversation floating from the laboratory.

“-mit its impressive, certainly, but the scale is a bit much for our current facilities, wouldn’t you think?” Perceptor’s voice reached Rodimus first, even and calm even slightly shouted over the sound of the power tools working.

“You lack vision, dear Percey, I think we could absolutely handle it!!” Brainstorm called back. 

Rodimus paused, waiting for something from Nautica before approaching the door. He started as the door swung open on its own, the aforementioned femme jolting at the sight of him. “Oh! Hello captain.” She greeted, offering a cheery little smile. 

“Nautica.” Rodimus smiled back politely. His finials twitched a bit as he felt her field tense back against her just a bit too late to hide the knowingness in it. He attempted to retain a cool demeanor. “Where are you off to?”

“Just on my way out!” she chirped, averting optic contact. “Going to Swerve’s, maybe I’ll see you there later, bye!” The bot scooted around him, ducking under his spoiler and trotting off down the hallway.

“Rodimus?” Perceptor called from within. 

Slag. He could already hear the sound of work halting as his presence became fully known. The speedster stepped into the lab, the door closing behind him with a pneumatic hiss. “Yes, hi, sorry for dropping by unexpectedly.” 

“...Again?” Perceptor added, biting back a smirk. He was sitting at one of his work stations, in the process of putting something together that Rodimus had no hope of understanding. Brainstorm was similarly engaged, though as Rodimus had entered he’d taken the time to spin lazily around in his seat, resting his cheek knowingly in his palm with a suggestive look in his eyes. 

“... Yes. Again.” Rodimus muttered. 

“And how could us two geniuses be of help, Rodimus?” Brainstorm prompted, amusement clear in his tone. A flare of heat churned in Rodimus’ tanks, his optics flicking back and forth between the other two mech’s faceplates. “... What’s with these looks, what’s going on here?” Rodimus snapped out, crossing his arms. 

Brainstorm snorted involuntarily, quickly resetting his vocalizer. “WELL, Perceptor was just recently telling us about a very interesting project he worked on-” 

“YOU TOLD??” Rodimus blurted out incredulously, mortification washing over his frame. It wasn’t as if he was mad at Perceptor for kissing and telling, in fact he hoped most of his partners were inclined to do so. It was more… the whole vulnerability of the matter, that someone else knew he’d been desperate enough to ask for help.

Perceptor shrugged a bit. “I talk about my projects with Brainstorm most of the time we work in the lab.” Projects. Rodimus fought off a shiver. That was what he was in his eyes, then, a project… that should have been insulting, probably.

“Good for morale.” Brainstorm agreed, beaming at his lab partner. He then turned back to Rodimus, all affection in his expression melting out in favour of a mocking smile. “You’d know all about morale, wouldn’t you, captain?”

If he weren’t already in enough trouble with cybertronian resources, Rodimus might have throttled him. “Yep.” He gritted out instead. “Look- I just need a new copy of the… project you gave me.” 

Perceptor cocked his head in confusion. “A new copy? Is there something wrong with the last one I gave you, Rodimus?” 

Rodimus shriveled. It was embarrassing enough to come crawling back, it was embarrassing enough to ask for a new one, but now with someone else- someone else not sworn to secrecy(with some apparent caveats)- in the lab? This was torture. 

He sheepishly reached into his subspace, pawing around for a moment as he approached Perceptor’s desk. He daintily set the crushed dataslug on the table there, offlining his optics in preparation for the reaction. 

Rodimus was right to do so, clearly, as Brainstorm burst into laughter. Perceptor cleared his vocalizer, clearly covering up a snicker of his own as he prodded at the shattered circuitry with a stylus. “... You broke it already?”

Rodimus looked away, fidgeting uncomfortably under the two scientists' gazes. “... I actually broke it the same night you gave it to me-”

“THE SAME NIGHT??!” Brainstorm gawked, now peering over Rodimus’ shoulder. “Oh you poor thing.” He crooned mockingly, patting him on his back plating gently. 

Perceptor reached into a drawer of his desk, absently picking out a new dataslug and placing it on the table. “Alright, you have a seat Rodimus, I’ll get you a new one.” 

Rodimus blinked. “Oh- You don’t need me back on the-” He gestured at the table he’d been on during his last visit. 

Perceptor finally glanced up from his work, raising a brow ridge at him. “... No? I have all my work backed up here.” He said, wiggling a datapad in his hand. 

“Oh. Okay.” Rodimus blushed a bit, feeling stupid for assuming. It wasn’t as if he’d wanted to spend another half hour getting toyed with and experimented on like some sort of science project… He’d just come to get a new copy of his magic overload stick, that was all. 

This was a good thing. 

Rodimus wasn’t disappointed even a bit. 

Brainstorm brushed past him, now leaning over Perceptor’s shoulder to read the datapad. He mouthed the glyphs on the screen, brows knitting together as he squinted at the lines of code. 

“Feh.” Brainstorm sniffed finally, rolling his optics. 

Perceptor paused, turning to face the other with a pointed look. “What?”

“... I don’t know, I just feel like you played it a bit safe, Percey.” Brainstorm said. He had that tone to his voice that he only seemed to get when he was trying to play it cool while also silently begging you to ask him what he meant by that. 

“What do you mean by that?” Perceptor scoffed. 

“I don’t know, I just…” He leaned back, arranging his frame into a haughtier, annoyingly smug pose. He examined his digits nonchalantly. “... Expected it to be a little bit more interesting.” 

Rodimus swallowed, optics bouncing between the two of them. “Interesting…?” He mumbled out.

“Well, the client in question didn’t ASK for interesting, he asked for some help, and I gave it to him, and he was happy with it!” Perceptor huffed, spinning in his chair to further face Brainstorm. 

“And I’m sure he was! I’m only saying that there are a lot more interesting ways one could have solved the problem, and your methods of efficiency are always very admirable, Percey.” Brainstorm put his servos up placatively, his tone infuriatingly condescending. 

Perceptor scoffed again, standing up from his seat. “Well, if you’re so certain you could have done a better job, why don’t you prove it, Brainstorm?” He sneered, jabbing an accusatory digit into Brainstorm’s chest. How Perceptor managed to remain oblivious to the giddiness in Brainstorm’s field was a mystery to Rodimus, it was nearly bowling him over. 

“I’d be happy to!” Brainstorm grinned, swinging his helm around to face Rodimus. “What do you say, Captain?”

Rodimus thought for a long few klikks. Brainstorm was just as smart as Perceptor, he could likely play Rodimus’s processor like an instrument just like him too, but his disposition was generally more… unpredictable… in a way that might not have been conducive to his goals. 

“... Fine, but I don’t want to hear about anyone else hearing about this, okay?” Rodimus conceded. It was only when he saw the look in Brainstorm’s optics go from excited to elated that Rodimus considered he might have made the wrong choice.

*

Rodimus was beginning to feel like a bit of a third wheel. Which was odd, because it was him who was currently laying on an examination slab, tilted just a bit upright, while the two scientists bickered over him. He could see his own diagnostics and files brought up on a myriad of screens and datapads that Brainstorm had hooked up around him. Rodimus wriggled uncomfortably on the slab, itching a bit at Brainstorm’s plug in his diagnostic port. He felt less like a mech and more like a missile the scientist was working on. The thought made Rodimus’ plating feel hot and uncomfortable.

“Well see, there’s the problem-” Brainstorm tsked, snapping Rodimus from his thoughts as his servo came down to grip the crest of his helm and tip it to show Perceptor the interfacing port on it’s back. “Who puts an interfacing port at the back of someone’s head?” 

“H-hey!” Rodimus started, giving Brainstorm a pointed glare. 

“Ahh… I see, that definitely could pose an issue then.” Perceptor nodded a bit. 

“Not if you use a topical patch instead of a plug.” Brainstorm waved his servo dismissively, releasing Rodimus’s helm to return to his work. 

“But then that makes it harder to take off if you want to stop.” Perceptor said, as if it were an obvious problem. 

Brainstorm just laughed, “I have many doubts that Rodimus would worry about stopping.” 

“I can- I’m still here you know!” Rodimus snapped. 

“Well then you can answer our query then, would you feel more comfortable with a datastick or a topical patch?” Perceptor asked, holding up either one in his servos. Rodimus turned his helm to consider them. 

“Uhh-” He began, cut off quickly when he felt the shiver of a command being typed into his processor. 

[Action input- Test- Tactile sensors]

Rodimus felt a shudder ripple over his body, each of his sensory inputs warming up briefly before turning off, showing each one was in proper working order. The mech rolled his digits into fists, letting out a shaky vent. “E-either one is fine- I don’t- I don’t care.” He offered helpfully. 

Perceptor frowned and sighed. “Fine then.” He broke his attention off from Rodimus when he heard another chuckle from Brainstorm, his frown sharpening. 

“Ahh, Perceptor… Really, this code is just adorable, it’s like you didn’t even think of all the ways one can manipulate a sexual code.” Brainstorm mused, mostly to himself. 

[Action input- Stimulus reaction- Anterior node- 50%]

Going from zero sensory input to fifty directly on his node was not what Rodimus would describe as ‘cool’ or ‘fun’. A sudden shout punched itself from Rodimus’ chest, his hips jumping off the table as if his valve were attempting to escape the pressure. His pedes came down with a clang, his body arched up in a quivering bridge. “A-AH- FRAG- Brainstorm-!” Rodimus gritted out, waiting for the stimulation to go as he squirmed. 

“See, you probably noticed a big amount of his pleasure based coding centers around his valve, right, but-” Brainstorm started to explain, gesturing with his stylus at one of the screens for Perceptor’s benefit. Rodimus blearily noted the diagram was some quick three dimensional mockup of his array. “You know even if a majority of the frame’s favoured stimulant nodes are in one place, it doesn’t mean you-”

“BRAINSTORM!!” Rodimus wailed out, still writhing. The pleasure was burning, his body alight with charge demanding a place to go. 

[Cease action input]

Brainstorm sighed and rolled his optics as Rodimus went limp on the table. The whole situation would be sexy if Rodimus were more into the blatant negligence the two of them were clearly treating him to. He tried to focus on steadying his fans as they kicked on. 

“As I was saying, I think there are more interesting nodes you could stimulate, in addition to those in the array, to give a more interesting experience.” Brainstorm finished. “At least for a project as boring as ‘data stick that makes you overload’ anyway.” 

“B-boring? Primus, Brainstorm, I should’ve considered how scientifically stimulating my own problems were for you before coming here, that’s on me.” Rodimus huffed out indignantly, pinning the jet with a glare. 

“Oh, your problems are incredibly scientifically stimulating Rodimus, I can think of a dozen ways to solve your whole panels plight off the top of my head, but Perceptor chose the most boring solution-” Brainstorm rambled exasperatedly, going through a few more codes before hitting the enter button on his datapad. 

[Action input- test- oral tactile sensitivity]

[Action input- test- audial sensitivity]

[Action input- test- tactile sensitivity- thigh and hip plating]

Rodimus squirmed. His optics flickered a bit as his processor fought to follow all commands at once. A fuzzy, tingly wash came over his glossa and dentas, then the same over his thigh and hip plating, as if someone were stroking over each bit of plating very lightly. Finally, his audials became suddenly more sensitive, taking in each minute whirr and buzz of the room around him. The sensations came to a slow, easing stop after only a few seconds, leaving Rodimus with an odd feeling in his tanks. 

“Boring?” Rodimus finally breathed out, glancing at Brainstorm. 

Brainstorm didn’t make optic contact with him, he was too busy inputting commands. “Yes, boring.” 

“Would you mind enlightening us then, Brainstorm, on what the dozen other ideas you had are?” Perceptor prompted, folding his arms and leaning back in his seat. 

[Action input- Sensory stimulus reaction- valve calipers(1-10) 15%]

[Action input- Sensory stimulus reaction- valve nodes(1-6, 10-18) 10%]

Rodimus moaned lowly, offlining his optics and gritting his dentas. That felt more familiar, his valve squeezing around a phantom sensation, more akin to digits than a full sized spike. 

“Well if we wanted to go closer to brute force, there’s technically nothing in the statement ‘crew members are not allowed to remove the magnetizer until the period of punishment is over’ doesn’t extend to one… applying a local anesthetic and removing the lower modesty panels entirely.” Brainstorm started. 

“N-no- thats- I don’t want that thanks-” Rodimus’s tanks squeezed uncomfortably. His legs instinctively came together around his panels, earning him a tap from Brainstorm’s stylus.

“Keep those open please, I need to keep an eye on your panels. In fact you could do with squirming a lot less- Ah, don’t worry.” Brainstorm was speaking a thousand miles a minute, leaving Rodimus’s already foggy head spinning. 

[Action input- disengage automotive directives from user: Rodimus- neck down]

Rodimus’s entire body went slack with a thud as his legs hit the slab. He let out a choked off cry, willing his frame to move and finding himself limp as a ragdoll.

“W-wait!” Rodimus squeaked out. 

“Don’t panic, your body is in good servos, Roddy.” Brainstorm cooed, patting his leg briefly before going back to his work. “Now, I know you’re still keeping up those one on ones, right, Captain?” 

“Y-yeah- Hey, listen, I know I move a lot but this is-” Rodimus began to protest, trying his hardest to ignore the ongoing sensation in his valve. 

“Relax. I’ve got a way to make those more fun for you if you’re going to be using your intake…~” Brainstorm sing songed, his optics scrunching in an impish little smile. “Here, hold on, I’ll give you your body back in a second, just-” He began, rolling his seat away out of Rodimus’s view and returning with a few yellow painted metal loops. He handed two of them to Perceptor, who seemed to understand the idea just fine as the two of them arranged Rodimus’s limp form into a wide, spread out X shape. 

Rodimus dimly felt the familiar sensation of four magnetizer cuffs activating and latching to the metal of the table. “W-why the frag do you even have those in your lab-?” Rodimus asked. 

“Don’t ask.” Brainstorm answered, “They’ll just keep you in place for me while I work alright? Do I have your consent to mess with your mouth?” He made a show of asking, clearly more for Perceptor’s benefit than Rodimus’

[Action input- previous input disengaged]

Rodimus was quiet for a moment, the ongoing feelings in his array making him feel like he was about to start leaking. He gave his restraints a testing wiggle, finding himself stuck, but still able to squirm, to a more controlled degree. He cleared his vocalizer, his intake feeling dry as he spoke. “... Yeah okay.” 

Brainstorm’s optics flashed just long enough for Rodimus to feel regret before the data inputs came through.

[Action input- cease all inputs- area:Valve]

[Action input- reduce gag reflex- 100%]

[Action input- increase tactile sensitivity- Glossa-60%]

[Action input- increase tactile sensitivity- Dermas-60%]

[Action input- increase tactile sensitivity- Intake- 40%]

[Action input- increase oral lubricant production- 50%]

[Action input- sensory link- tactile oral sensation = pleasure center activation]

Rodimus was overwhelmed for a moment, letting out a glitchy, confused grunt as his intake tingled with sudden sensation. He ran his glossa over his dentas experimentally, turning more pink at the shudder of pleasure that ran down his spinal strut at the feeling. “Oh- Brainst- ah-” Rodimus wheezed. Even just moving his mouth to speak felt oddly good, every brush of his tongue over the expanse of his palate suddenly feeling charged with arousal. 

“A brief look at your more recent updated data in your pleasure centers shows general intake sensitivity has already had some spikes on its own, I’ve just..” Brainstorm trailed off, reaching out to playfully tap Rodimus’ lip with his stylus. The feeling sent tingles down Rodimus’ frame directly to his panels. “Heightened the effect. You can call me a genius now.” 

Rodimus groaned weakly, too busy squirming in his bindings to pay the scientist much mind. The feeling was weird, good, but weird. He appreciated the thought but it wasn’t like he wanted to go around getting a reputation for finishing just from oral. He had some semblance of dignity to uphold.

A semblance of dignity he was apparently giving up for the time being as he greedily ran his glossa against the roof of his intake, sending sparks skittering across his plating. Rodimus keened, optics flickering and going dim with want. 

“Really, this is just gratuitous.” Perceptor scoffed, his faceplate bright pink from Rodimus’ lascivious display. He turned his vision away from him to Brainstorm. “When do you have the time to think of this kind of… thing?” 

“Unimportant,” Brainstorm dismissed, standing up and setting his datapad aside. “I have more tests I’d like to run! Rodimus, be a dear and open wide for me?” The scientist patted Rodimus’ cheek, holding his stylus up and wiggling it between two fingers. 

The captain complied, letting his jaw drop open and his tongue hang out. 

“Very good, Rodimus.” Brainstorm cooed, running the edge of his stylus slowly down the flat of the other mech’s glossa. Rodimus’s valve cycled and squeezed around nothing, his spike twitching and stirring in its housing. 

“Nnghhuhuuuhh…” Rodimus answered intelligently. He dimly heard Perceptor clear his vocalizer, but chose not to care, instead opting to curl his glossa around the edge of the stylus and stroke against it. 

Brainstorm chuckled, freeing his stylus and running it along Rodimus’s top derma. “It’s very easy to remap pleasure centers to elsewhere in someone’s frame, I could do this to anywhere you liked, but I figured this would be the most advantageous, yes?” 

“Y-yeahh…” Rodimus mumbled breathlessly, trying to keep himself as under control as possible. He shook his helm to try and clear the fogginess in it, only to let out a wanton moan when Brainstorm’s free servo came down on his helm crest to hold him still. 

“Try not to thrash so much, or I’ll have to take your bodily control away again, and we don’t want that, do we?” Brainstorm hissed, before letting go of his stylus in favour of gripping Rodimus’ tongue between his middle and index digit. Rodimus’ squirmed, trying to hold his helm still as his back arched up off the table. He felt like his whole frame was on fire in the strangest way. He fought to keep from making a further fool of himself, but it was a losing battle. Brainstorm released his glossa, instead shifting his servo to pet his digits over the surface of it. 

Rodimus moaned dumbly and began to suck at them on reflex, letting his optics fully go offline as Brainstorm worked his digits gently in his mouth. 

Brainstorm leaned down, chuckling as he murmured hotly in Rodimus’ audial. “And  I could go further than this, too, I could increase some more of your priorities, make every bit of these  ‘apologies’ make you-” 

“Alright, I think that’s- that’s quite enough, Brainstorm.” Perceptor interjected. Brainstorm drew his digits from the captain’s mouth with a wet pop, standing back up straight. Rodimus definitely didn’t crane his neck after his servo, and absolutely did not let out an embarrassing noise at having his mouth empty.

“Oh not at all!! We haven’t even tested his throat’s responses!” Brainstorm feigned ignorance at the lewdness of it all, putting his still wet servo on his hip as he gestured across Rodimus’ coolant slick frame. “I’m going to put my spike in his mouth and see-”

Perceptor sputtered for a moment. “This is hardly scientific-” 

“Well sure, but it’s more fun if you pretend it is, isn’t it?” Brainstorm chirped, stepping around the side of the table to stand by Rodimus’ head. He hit a button on a nearby console and the slab tilted back until Rodimus’ helm was level with Brainstorm’s modesty panel, at which point Brainstorm carefully rearranged the other bot so that his head was hanging languidly over the edge of the table. “How are you doing down there, Roddy?”

“F-feels weird… good…” Rodimus panted. Had he been more eloquent at the time he might have said something like ‘it feels like my panels are going to fall off’ or ‘please put something in me’, but Rodimus’ foggy mind somehow spared him that added embarrassment. He simply stared at Brainstorm’s panels hopefully, letting out a relieved whine as he saw them transform away. 

“Yeah… thats good, I’m glad. Percey, if you wouldn’t mind monitoring the datascreens while I test?” Brainstorm asked, absently petting over Rodimus’ jaw and neck as he coaxed his spike from it’s housing.

“Er- Of course, thats just fine.” Perceptor agreed, turning to watch the readouts with his faceplate almost entirely pink. 

Rodimus craned his neck out to Brainstorm’s slowly extending spike, hungry for it in a way he’d never felt before. The first brush of the tip against his dermas sent shivers down his back strut, his engines revving involuntarily as he rolled his tongue against the slit. All this teasing and excess charge couldn’t be good for him, but by this point, Rodimus hardly cared. 

He let out a grateful moan as Brainstorm slid his spike carefully into Rodimus’ intake. The captain was vaguely aware at this point that he was salivating more than usual as a ribbon of oral solvent slid headily down his cheeks. Rodimus was startled at the ease with which Brainstorm managed to press his spike into his throat, but any untoward feelings about the matter melted away, replaced with arousal and desperation as his body blazed with charge. He sucked greedily at the intrusion in his mouth, laving his tongue over the topside of Brainstorm’s spike. 

“Aaahh, that’s just wonderful-” Brainstorm sighed out, leaning over Rodimus’ body to stroke his servos over the speedster’s overcharged chassis. “I’m so good it scares me sometimes.” 

Perceptor chuckled dryly. “All vitals look to be reacting normally. Though, the lack of gag reflex could pose some worries couldn’t it?” 

“Oh, you’re too cautious.” Brainstorm dismissed him, beginning to pump his hips into Rodimus’ throat. He disregarded the muffled groans Rodimus was making in favour of teasing his digits along the sensitive edges of the other mech’s spoiler. 

“Hardly! I just think things through longer than you do.” Perceptor chuckled again, but there was a note of breathlessness to his voice. 

Again, that was probably lost on Rodimus, who was too busy straining his wrists against his restraints in an attempt to grab Brainstorm and press his spike even further into his mouth. He needed it, needed it in a way the other mech couldn’t hope to understand. He swallowed his own drool uselessly, mewling at the feeling of his throat tightening and rippling against the scientist’s spike. He thought he might die if he didn’t keep using him. Every intrusion was getting to him, the feeling of his digits groping at his prone form, the weight of the spike in his mouth, the burning connection of the plug in his diagnostic port. He was helpless. The feeling was so alien, so wrong, so frightening, and yet all Rodimus could do was moan for more. 

“Mm-muh-!” He moaned out, gurgling in mindless ecstasy as Brainstorm redoubled his efforts of pounding into his mouth. 

“You seem a little bothered, Percey~...” Brainstorm cooed to his partner mockingly. “Is something wrong?”

Perceptor reset his vocalizer with a meaningful click. “No- Nothing, its uhm… only a very… unprofessional display…” 

“Well… I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you out as well, if all this… unprofessionalism is making it hard for you to focus…!” Brainstorm’s words were heavy with implication and lust, each snap of his hips rocking Rodimus’ frame. The meaning behind his retort finally dawned on Rodimus’ groggy mind, and the bound mech writhed and squirmed, drool bubbling from his lips as he whimpered in need. “See?” Brainstorm chuckled darkly, thumbing lightly at the bulge his spike left in Rodimus’ throat. 

It was hard for Rodimus to focus on much other than the weight in his mouth, so he continued to worship, rolling his glossa over each node and biolight and ridge, drinking in each involuntary twitch and gasp Brainstorm let out. He hardly noticed when the magnets on his ankles came away, barely gave any mind as the table below his lower half bowed out, only really giving the movement any mind when he felt Perceptors delicate servos grasping his thighs. His digits seared against Rodimus’ leaking, overcharged panels, making the captain buck and squirm and squeal around Brainstorm’s spike. 

“R-Rodimus, is this alright with you?” Perceptor asked, voice heavy with need. Rodimus nearly cried out when Brainstorm pulled his hips back to allow him to respond.

He coughed and swallowed, his mouth drowned in oral solvent and prefluid. “G-hhahh- Go f-for it, please- f-frag- anything-” Rodimus babbled, leaning out to try and get the spike back into his mouth. He whined low in his vocalizer as Brainstorm slipped his spike back home, soothingly petting over Rodimus’ chassis and neck. Rodimus went slack under the two mechs’ ministrations, luxuriating in the rolling sensation crashing over his frame. He felt Perceptor’s spike pressurize between his slick thighs, drinking in the gasp he let out as it slid against the charged heat of his modesty panel. 

Rodimus could hardly tell the magnetizer was there anymore, the ache of his array was negligible when compared to the heat of the spikes in and against him and the servos gripping at his dewy plating. His mind went blank, arcs of charge rippling over his body with each thrust, both of the other mecha grounding their own lust through him. Rodimus was lost in it, swallowing intakefuls of solvent and fluid, face growing sticky and messy as his mouth hummed with perverse delight. 

He could feel every bit of his plating vibrating, every inch of metal and protoform alight with need. Pleasure gathered heavy in his tanks, drawing him closer and closer to the edge. He couldn’t get enough, squirming between the two scientists, puffs of hot air filling the room with steam. He swallowed around Brainstorm’s spike and felt his valve clench under his panels. Perceptor’s spike between his thighs sped up with a punched out moan from the microscope, his digits digging into Rodimus’ plating and threatening to leave scratches there. 

Rodimus felt Brainstorm’s rhythm begin to stutter, his servos coming down to grip the table as he chased after his overload desperately. “O-Oh- Perceptor-” Brainstorm huffed out, steam billowing from the slits in his mask. 

Rodimus might have been offended. He should have been offended. The blatant way with which the scientist ignored him, even as he spent his overload down Rodimus’ throat should have made the captain bitter. But instead that heat just gripped him deeper, his engines roaring with lust as Rodimus himself tumbled over into his own climax. His body was strung out taught, writhing and groaning in ecstasy. Transfluid spilled from his dermas and over his face, spurting in equal measure around the seams of his modesty panels and magnetizer. He dimly heard Perceptor gasp and moan at the display, and keened as he felt jets of fluid paint lewdly up his abdomen and across his chassis.

Rodimus laid bare, steaming, panting as Brainstorm slowly dragged his spike out of his intake. Rodimus’ head swirled. He barely recognized the feeling of Brainstorm unplugging his diagnostic cable, hardly noted the stickiness coating the better part of his faceplate and crotch. He allowed himself to bask, savouring the afterglow of his much needed overload as it hung cloyingly to his frame. 

*

Rodimus couldn’t help but feel like he was being rushed out. By the time he was being ushered to the door, he was still a bit out of sorts, a topical patch containing the affectionately named ‘intake interface initiative’ code in his servo. 

“Let me know if there are any bugs even though I know there won’t be! And happy trails, take care, buh-bye!” Brainstorm said hurriedly, offering a slightly breathless grin as he shoved Rodimus through the door of the laboratory. 

“Uh- Yeah, thanks for-” Rodimus was only able to get the sentence halfway out before the door slid closed behind him. He let out a long, tired sigh, massaging his vocalizer lightly. It was a little bit raw, for good reason. “... Cool.” He muttered, beginning his trek back to his office. 

Rodimus eyed the topical patch in its casing, flipping it between his fingers casually. He wouldn’t admit this to Brainstorm or Perceptor(or probably anyone else), but the thing kind of scared him. He was certain there had to be some other bug in there that made his processor work wrong, otherwise he wouldn’t have… well he wouldn’t have gotten so into whatever that was.  

He reminded himself frequently what these meetings were: a means to an end. He was getting to know his crew better, he was making a connection, he was showing them he was dependable and generous. What was more generous than sucking spike? Not much, from Rodimus’ point of view. 

It was weird to let himself get so lost in the whole matter, like that code had made him do. Yeah, made him. That was it. It wasn’t so bad to let himself enjoy the attention now and then, especially when he’d actually been able to use his array during, but if he got that carried away… just from sucking someone off? That was a bit embarrassing. 

Some part of him considered the situation- prone, experimented upon, disregarded but praised, teased… used. It couldn’t have been any of those feelings that had made him act that way.

It was the code! 

It must have been. 

Rodimus shook his helm, tucking the patch into his subspace delicately. Some parts of his plating still felt sticky, his jaw ached, his vocalizer was raw, there were black paint transfers around his thighs and hips from Perceptor’s groping. He looked like a cheap shareware whore. 

…

Rodimus closed out the prompt in his processor to open his panels for what felt like the thousandth time. He let the door to his office close behind him and sat uncomfortably at his desk.

He eyed the fresh stack of datapads and the order his workspace had been brought to and frowned. Ultra Magnus had been there while he was away. Again. 

Rodimus took a long, deep vent in. 

Just 5 more cycles until his midway meeting with Ultra Magnus. He’d lie his aft off about how much he’d changed, he’d get that magnetizer off, and then things would go back to normal. He’d get through the list once and for all, and everyone would finally recognize how much he did for his crew. 

Rodimus briefly considered what it would look like having to endure another 16 cycles if he was unable to convince him. 

He swallowed thickly and did the unthinkable to keep his mind off that grim idea.

Rodimus started working on his datapads.