#man all it really takes is a peek at these tags and u already get a decent idea

[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)

[stararch4ngelqueen]

domestic jason hcs? >:)

(this ask feels self-indulgent but i was VERY inspired by this one buff dude i saw on insta reels baking in a not-so-sexual way but like women in the comments are down bad and i cant really describe it im so sorry 😭)

imagine waking up to jason baking something (doesnt have to be anything could just be bread). you wanna help but the only instructions he gives you is to sit pretty, wearing his shirt and all. everytime he moves around the kitchen, he give u a lil peck on the lips if hes close enough to you. youre just sitting pretty like he asked, watching this man work and looking a little love struck cuz all you wanna do is pull him down and give him the fattest kiss for being so husband material

(dude, im yearning so much. thank u for writing a lot for jason 💞 ALSO ive seen u around in the cod tag so another thanks for ur fics there too 💞)

I’m sticking with the prompt cause I had unholy thoughts. An thank you! I appreciate your appreciation for my works ✨

This may be the tiniest bit suggestive 🌝

Time Written - 5:51 a.m

Baking at an early hour was somewhat new for Jason.

Baking at an early hour after an intense ending to an incredible date night was incredibly new for Jason.

His hands were occupied with an intriguing scene of soft dough and hard, rich yellow butter on a marble countertop. His muscles at work folding in the pockets of butter into the dough, pressing it with the heels of his palms.

“Morning, mama.” His morning voice held that early rasp in his tone that tickled you just right. You reciprocated his greeting as you walk into the kitchen, dressed in one of his shirts he aggressively yanked off the night before.

There he stood in grey sweatpants. Baking something delectable for seemingly no reason.

“What’s the occasion?” You question as you approach the counter, admiring his bed rugged hair adding onto his every attractive appearance.

“Cloudy outside, which means baking time.”

“Baking time?” The slightest glance at your cheeky little grin made him amusingly scoff.

“Baked goods,” he clarified with a head gesture behind him. “Coffee’s ready for ya, babe.”

Soon, the kitchen will flood with the warm aroma of browning butter and cooking sugar, invading throughout your home for a very long evening. Neighbors will get jealous over the smell of bakery air, hopefully helping them ignore the noises prior to the other night.

It was quite a sight to watch, his muscles flexing with a focused flare along his brow. You almost didn’t hear his insistence the second time towards the cinnamon coffee waiting in the pot for you.

“Gonna stick around? You’ll get first glance at what I’m making.”

“Which is?” You pry, watching him approach the sink to wash his hands.

“Crossiants,” he admits after drying his hands, giving the tip of your nose a peck. “With chocolate.”

“Look at you, my man’s a baker.” You smile while leaning against the counter, feeling your heart throb romantically from his chaste kisses.

“Not what you expected, huh?”

“What, my Red Hood busting skulls and baking? So many single moms would chase after you if they could.”

That comment has him unexpectedly laugh. Not the worst thing he’s been told, so he’ll take it. Poor single mothers, too bad he’s already taken.

“I thought you meant the chocolate would be inside?” You ask after peeking at the dough he wrapped up in cling wrap.

“No,” He shakes his head. “See, I thought that, but I like the idea of dipping them into melted chocolate a whole lot better.”

“Where’d you get the inspiration?”

“France,” he amusingly huffs with a shrug after approaching to take the packet you handed to him. “Thanks baby. Where else?”

He slips the packet of buttered dough into the fridge before turning towards the stove, almost running into you as you beat him to it, peering into a saucepan full of melted chocolate.

“Hey, hey.” Cool, clean hands gently grasped hold of your shoulders, gently nudging you away from his little workspace. “Easy on those eyes, almost knocked you into an accident.”

“Need some help with anything?” You offer, reminding him of when he used to ask his mother the same question. Happy little memories that brought embers of warmth in his heart.

“You can be of huge help,” He begins, calloused hands grazing down along your fingerprint shaped bruised hips before hoisting you up in his arms like a little doll.

“By sitting pretty, an’ letting me work.”

He plops you down on a stool he pulled out from the island counter, giving you a perfect little spot to watch him work. You slouch after he turns away, watching him return to his little objective on the stove.

“You just melt chocolate in the pan like that?”

“Sorta,” Jason tilts his head after grabbing a spoon, stirring the smooth, ganache-like chocolate concoction around. “France’s version of hot chocolate. Some milk, cream, a little sugar.”

You hum as a response, watching the muscles along the back of his left shoulder move as he enacts upon such a simple, minor task. Jason probably said something else, along the lines of not wanting such a beautiful body of chocolate boil on the stove, but it wasn’t much of your concern as it was his.

Maybe your main concern was how exactly did the scratches you left along his back didn’t break skin, clinging onto him for dear life as they flexed along your greedy palms.

He probably knew that, he was hiding a smile for all you could tell if you paid any attention.

“My girl want a taste?” He offers, his real gaze snapping your mind back into reality. You nod, anxiously sitting up in your seat.

He spoons warm, melted chocolate on the top of your tongue, watching it dribble down your bottom lip. The pink of your little tongue swiped up the remnants, all for Jason’s adoring gaze to witness.

Your reaction varies upon the subtle lack of sweetness from the chocolate.

“It’s not that sweet. Is it dark—?”

Your words are stolen when he kisses you, cradling your face within his two warm hands after carelessly setting down the spoon.

His heavy lidded gaze meets yours after breaking off the kiss, his cheeks flushed with affectionate warmth.

“Don’t know,” his glistening lips curve upwards after licking his lips. “Tastes pretty sweet to me.”

He turns away, as if he hadn’t committed such a crime in the first place.

You’re left watching once again, anxious nerves preventing you from sitting still. Fidgety fingers lingering in your lap, grasping along the lower hem of your shirt.

“Also coffee,” Jason pitches as if he forgot. “Added a little espresso to enhance the taste. You, uh… never got your coffee, babe.”

Oh. Right. The first thing he told you when you came in.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly admit, slightly shifting your hips whilst on the stool. “Got a little distracted.”

He chuckles, not even needing a detective’s mindset to understand fully why. “Did you now?”

Not giving you a chance to answer, Jason sets the saucepan off the burner before turning full attention towards you. Swooping you off the stool you sat, hoisting you ontop of a warm, clean counter.

His torso pressed against yours, keeping you comfortably confined between a marble surface and a hard place. His hands caress along your torso, thumbs trickling over your stiff nipples through your shirt, still sore from his teeth marks.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbles against the shell of your ear. His lips press against your neck as you swallow, kissing down along your collarbone. “Figured you’d have stayed sleeping in ‘till I was done here. Guessin’ last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Your fault for putting on a show.” You whisper, hooking your legs the best you could around his broad waist.

He chuckles against your neck, his excitement as palpable as his pearly smile expressed. “Your fault for watchin’, mama.”

[spctrsgf]

cold wires

summary: you crashed in maldo kreis. and it’s cold.

word count: 752

warnings: language like once, i can't write blurbs

a/n: HELLOOOOOOO omg it feels so so nice to be back to writing after all this time !! thank u all for bearing with me as i went thru my slump :((( life has been a lot recently and im in over my head but ANYWAYS ofc i had to come back w shiny<333 will get on my requests asap too 🫡

“It's frigid on this damn planet.” 

Din lets out the smallest huff and your remark, so small that you wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for his modulator. He's to your left, working on another panel of the ship as you try to get the electricity up and running. 

It's been a good few hours since the Crest had crashed down into Maldo Kreis, and the ship had already gained a thin sheen of ice and touched freezing temperatures. Your companions were all dancing about, trying their best to help to no avail. 

“Less grumbling, more working.” His voice cuts through the crisp air like a sword, shaking you from your frozen thoughts and back to the problem at hand. The wires were all frosted as well, apparently, even though you had warmed them not long ago. You twist them in your fingertips again with a sigh, careful not to shock your fingers.

Bustling about, you and Din fall back into a serene sort of silence as both of you focus your attention on the work in front of you again. His presence makes it easier for you to do the said thing, getting the wires to where they needed to be in order to start up the engine again. 

“Good job.” Din nods his head at you in a sign of thanks and respect, noticing the lights flicker on. You beam, happy to have helped in some way. You both reenter the hull, content in your achievements and ready to start up the Crest again. The ice planet was– surprise surprise– not the most pleasant to spend one’s time. 

Aaaaaaaaaand your hands were still freezing.

You hated complaining, really. Din had been so generous as to take you under his protection, to let you tag along as he and the Child traveled to countless planets. He had opened up, even if only in the slightest, making you feel more at home in the tiny ship then anywhere else you had been previously. Because of this, you felt a little weird complaining much, as silly as that seems and as small as this issue was. 

But it was cold. And you couldn’t really feel your hands. Before you could think too much harder on it, the words roll off your tongue and tumble out of your mouth in a nearly pathetic grumble. “My hands are still fucking icebergs.” Your cheeks dust a shade pinker and your eyes drop down to your shoes as Din turns from his spot near his bed. 

It’s silent in the hunk of the ship. You don't dare to peek up at the beast of a man in front of you, regretting even saying the words that had just come out of your mouth. How could you even say that? After he had just spent the whole time next to you in the cold? How inconsiderate. The urge to apologize rushes up into your throat before you can process it, ejecting from your mouth in some wicked sort of word vomit. 

But, before you can even process that he’s moved at all, Din’s got your hands in his own, enveloped. The words of apology that were about to leave your mouth sputter and pop, dispersing into nothing more than a gasp of surprise. You forget he can move that fast sometimes. 

His hands are warm. Tucked beneath gloves, they must feel quite soft, you think. You wish you knew. Sighing, you let his hands warm your own. And it's comfortable, this moment. There was no awkwardness in the silence, in the proximity, in the way your breaths match to create a melody that adorns the warmth in your hands and your cheeks.

You muster enough courage to tilt your head up to meet the sharp line of his visor, since turned soft by the way his thumb rubs back and forth on the back of your hand, barely any movement at all. “Thank you.” You breathe out, earnest in the way the words dance out of your mouth. He only offers a small nod, surely adorned with one of his soft smiles you know hide underneath his beskar visor.

And that's when you hear the Kid’s giggle.

Your eyes widen, Din’s head ticks up. “We should probably go check that out,” You quip, turning away from your moment before a second thought can be formulated. “Make sure he’s okay.” Your companion nods, streaking ahead of you as you draw your gun.

Something tells you he won’t be.  

[freelancearsonist]

✨ wip wednesday ✨

thank you to my love @covetyou for the tag <3 this is actually perfect bc i've been stumped on what to work on so i need y'all to decide for me

free falling love addict [dieter bravo]

this was supposed to be a porn w/o plot one-shot and is now a 5-part series full of feelings 💀 basically dieter falls hard and fast for a non-binary co-star who just so happens to be playing his daughter. there's a lot of drama and uncertainty and angst and it's a whole roller coaster ride (thank u to @beskarandblasters for the title and an absolutely STUNNING graphic that y'all will see later)

You wake up from your four hours of sleep with a little clearer mind, surprisingly. Dieter’s hot and he’d be a once-in-a-lifetime lay, but you’re playing his daughter in this show. How seriously do you want to be taken in this industry? Because banging the actor who plays your father in your first serious project is decidedly not the route to being taken seriously as a moviestar; in fact, it’s the kind of scandal that could end your career before it even starts. You shower, do your basic morning skincare routine, get dressed, and head to set. All the while, you chant your new mantra: Dieter Bravo is off limits no matter how badly you want to play right into his hands. His big hands. His big meaty hands that you want all over your–

(untitled) dad's best friend wedding joel [no outbreak joel miller]

BILL X FRANK SUPREMACY. this is bill x frank's world and we are just living in it. but anyway it's 2013, no outbreak, we're fixing the timeline, reader is frank's adopted daughter and maid of honor, joel is bill's best friend and best man. there's an age gap and a lot of trying to deny attraction until it all comes to a head and they work out their frustrations in the coat room after the wedding

You would’ve sworn, when you first met him, that an elaborate wedding would be the very last thing Bill would want. And yet this has been as much his planning as it has been your dad’s. It brings so much joy to your heart that your dad has found someone who matches him so completely. You couldn’t be happier for them; and at the same time, you couldn’t be more miserable for yourself. Because, as dedicated as you are to making this day perfect for them, Bill’s best man and long-time friend is maybe even more dedicated. He’s been turning this wedding into a friendly competition between the two of you, trying to one-up you at every opportunity he gets. It’s infuriating—especially when he wears that smug grin that’s become his signature expression around you. It’s torture, too, because all you want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.

(untitled) blind date [dieter bravo]

basically dieter goes on a blind date with someone who has no clue who he is (you) and falls in love so hard

He never should’ve agreed to this—and really, it’s not even his fault that he did. His assistant should know better than to ask him questions when he’s a joint and a half in.  Maybe it’s a sense of obligation after he pushed her into the pool last week—in his defense, she really needed to loosen up—or maybe he’s just plain lonely. Whatever it is, he’s here, the champagne is good, and there’s no point backing out now. He takes another peek at his watch and lets out a slightly-too-loud groan. You aren’t supposed to be here for another ten minutes, and he’s already been seated and drinking for fifteen. How Jennifer—the aforementioned assistant—managed to get him here early, he’ll never know. But he does know it’s the first and last time he’ll ever be early for an engagement; the anxiety of anticipation is far too stressful. Plus, he’s worried it makes him look desperate—too eager to meet a complete and utter stranger.

(untitled) dieter crashing your graduation party (consensually) [dieter bravo]

this is my baby 🥹 probably the most self-insert thing i will ever write tbh. yet another series that was supposed to just be a one-shot, i haven't actually planned how many chapters this is going to be yet but i know what i'm doing with the story line lol. basically your family throws you a graduation party when you finish cosmetology school, and because you're antisocial and don't want a huge crowd you tag people that won't/can't come on your invite post--but the one person you thought for sure wouldn't come actually shows up and it sets off the craziest series of events

The crowd has lulled a bit, and you’re just about to go find that bar you’ve been so excited about when someone you do recognize walks up the brick path to the gate. And god help you, your jaw actually visibly, physically drops. You blink once, twice, and then once again for good measure. But he’s still there–not wishful thinking, not a mirage. He’s real and solid and here. Dieter Bravo stands on your garden path with all the air of a god amongst men. He’s dressed in black from head to toe–perfectly tailored black suit pants and an open suit jacket over a silk button-up shirt. If it was anyone else, he would be overdressed; but he manages to make it look like the perfect mix of messy and put together.  There’s a part of you that still thinks maybe it’s not him, that the dark sunglasses he wears hide the eyes of someone who has an uncanny resemblance to your favorite actor. But the other, larger part of you knows. You’re face to face with Dieter fucking Bravo.

(untitled) joel x hairdresser [jackson era joel miller]

i think this is going to be a 2-3 parter bc god forbid i write anything short. basically you're the resident hair stylist in jackson, and joel has hair that needs to be cut. he does you little favors in turn bc that's how jackson runs, but he ends up falling for you in the process

He starts to see traces of you everywhere, and he’d be bothered by it if thoughts of you weren’t so soothing.  He sees wildflowers while he’s out on patrol and thinks they would be perfect to replenish the vase on your counter. He finds hair gel in a nearby drugstore and wonders if it’s something you could use. He pulls anatomy textbooks from a shelf in an abandoned library because he remembers you mentioning that you’d like to expand your services to include massage. He has to remind himself that he shouldn’t be thinking so much about someone who’s half his age–that it’s borderline creepy to see so many things and want to bring them to you as offerings. But then again, that’s how Jackson operates. If he wants a service, he has to be able to give something in return. And he wants your services most of all.

(untitled) shotgunning filth [lucien flores]

the doc title pretty much says it with this one 😂 i've only just started this one but here's what i have:

You see his car in your driveway when you get home and it makes you shiver.  That stupid mint-condition hot-rod red 2003 Ford Thunderbird activates the most ridiculous Pavlovian response–your heart rate quickens, your stomach tightens with anticipation, your pussy starts preparing itself for the inevitable delicious torture you’re about to endure.

and if you want to hear more about any of these options, pls send me an ask i love talking about my stories :)

[harringtonswriting]

the one where chaos comes out to play | s.h.

summary: steve hates thursdays, and thursdays hate steve. today is no exception, except that the green goblin has decided to try and hurt him in a brand new way, and steve isn't sure he can keep going if the worst comes to pass (modern!au; spidey!steve universe) pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader word count: 7.4k warning(s): language; some violence (fight scenes); mentions of injuries/blood notes: HI HELLO ITS SPIDEY!STEVE TIME !!!! thank u all for being so patient; i know this is much longer than normal but i was SO excited for it and i loved the idea!! thank u to the two anons who requested this; i kind of combined the two requests into one, i hope that's okay! also it's the first real introduction for a villain, and there's plenty more to come... i hope you enjoy!!

...

Steve thought he’d been careful. Always did his best to be as careful and as conspicuous as he can where the people he loves are concerned so that nothing about his activities as Spider-Man could be traced back to them. He doesn’t swing Robin to work in costume when she’s running late; he only rescues Ozzy from the roof of Eddie’s building when absolutely necessary (which probably happens more often than it should, but the fuzzball loves it when Steve makes a web-sling to carry him around in); and he does everything possible to keep the dangers of his life as Spider-Man away from you. In public, at least.

But in private? He’s at your place all the time. Probably too often, considering how much he pays in rent for his place across the hall from you, but as long as he gets to spend time with you he won’t complain (to you, but Robin isn’t quite so lucky considering she lives with him). Ever since he’d first seen you the day he moved into his crappy little apartment in this too old building, when you peeked out at him carrying too many boxes at once, he’d decided he needed to get to know you (which he did, with all the ups and downs that came with it). Now you’re one of his best friends, one of the few people who know he’s Spider-Man, someone he cherishes totally and completely (though he’ll deny it because having you in his life as a friend is enough, at least for now), and also someone he’d never, ever risk getting hurt.

But Steve must have slipped up at some point, and the universe really decided to make him pay for it. Steve and you.

It’s a Thursday. Nothing good ever happens on a Thursday, not for Steve; he’s pretty sure he was brought into this world on a Thursday, and it always seems like the universe is trying to take him out on the same day. It’s usually the day that he’s stuck running around after crazed supervillains who want to destroy half the city because it’s Thursday and that’s just what they wanna do on Thursdays for shits and giggles. Like today, with the Green Goblin playing explosion tag with him and yelling out nonsense.

Okay, well, it was actually something like, “Heroism is a fool’s errand!” and, “Chaos will destroy everything you love!” But honestly, this is the third time this month that the Green Goblin has pulled something like this and Steve is very quickly running out of patience. This time, though, it’s harder than normal for Steve to try and keep the villain contained in a single area of the city. It almost feels as if Goblin is toying with him, more so than usual, and is trying to lead Steve into something.

Steve’s wary of the psychotically jolly green man on a good day; despite not being as superpowered as some of the other bad guys Steve sees on the regular, Goblin learns and observes and always manages to have some kind of ace up his sleeve. And today, the taunts he gets as he tries to bring the villain down are just that much more smug than usual; Goblin also has some new gadgets, which includes a pumpkin bomb that turns into a small flying bladed monstrosity that hurts like a bitch when they make contact with him. This suit is already torn up and Steve is going to have a hell of a time repairing it, if it even can be repaired at this point. And this one is new, too… Thursdays really suck.

So here Steve is, using his webs to grab a large chunk of the side of a building and fling it away from a group of terrified bystanders on the sidewalk and up onto the roof of a nearby building—well, onto the rooftop garden that’s probably going to need to be re-landscaped, but it had entirely too many topiaries for Steve’s taste so he figures he’s doing them a favour. They’ll save a ton on having to get them removed, and maybe now they can put in a rooftop pool with the new hole they’ll have.

One of these days he’s gonna get sued for property damage, but today is (hopefully) not that day, so he swings back towards the Green Goblin, who’s currently hovering near a rooftop down the block. Steve makes sure that the bystanders are out of harm’s way for now (though he’s sure he’s going to read all about how he’s the one who put them in danger in tomorrow’s edition of the Daily Bugle) before he sends out some webs with a thwip! to swing himself towards the roof that Goblin is currently hovering over. Only this time, unlike every other time Steve has gotten close enough to land a clean hit, the green menace doesn’t try to leave his position. It’s more than a little odd, but Steve hopes that maybe it means his Thursday is taking a turn for the better.

It’s not.

As Steve swings closer, Goblin lets out a loud, ear-splitting cackle behind the creepy mask that he somehow thinks is a good fashion choice as he swoops down towards the roof. Steve throws out another line of webbing, swinging himself up to get a clearer view of what’s going on. The Green Goblin is grabbing something—or someone, Steve realizes, who’d been on that rooftop.

He feels it at the base of his skull, tingling and quivering both down through his spine and up through his head. Something is way off, worse than he’s felt in a long time, and his Spidey-Sense is warning him that something really bad is about to happen really quickly. The quip he’d been holding onto, something really great about how if Green Goblin was having problems with his glider, they make pills for that now, dies in his throat. Steve lands on the side of an adjacent building, watching Goblin fly up holding the person from the roof.

It’s you.

Steve feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him, seeing the Green Goblin holding you up by the throat to dangle you over the edge of his glider. All sound around him immediately stops, save for the frantic sound of his own heart hammering and thumping against his ribcage, aiming to shatter it. That would probably hurt less, he thinks, than seeing how terrified you look right now. Your wrists are bound together in front of you in a way Steve can’t imagine is very comfortable, and he has to take some very deep breaths through his nose to stop himself from screaming your name.

Why are you here? Why does Goblin have you? How long has he had you? A million and one questions are running through Steve’s head, faster than usual, almost too fast to keep up with. You’re in your work clothes, though they’re beyond rumpled and a little torn now; did Goblin grab you at work? On your home from work? From the apartment building? God, Steve really hopes Goblin doesn’t know where you live; if he’s taken away the safety of your home from you, Steve doesn’t know what he can do to fix that.

How did anyone link you back to Steve? He’s been careful, he thought he’d been so careful to keep you out of his life. Does the Goblin know who Steve really is? Oh god, what does that mean for you? For Robin or Eddie, or Dustin or Max or Nancy, or anyone else who’s connected to Steve Harrington? Shit, he’s gotta get this figured out fast.

He’s never been more thankful than he is now that his mask covers his entire face, because he’s really not sure he could hide the emotions he’s sure are twisting and contorting his features. What started out as cold fear trickling down his back and into his stomach has partially turned to molten hot anger is thrumming through his chest; it makes for an odd combination of sensations while his mind is trying to put together any kind of plan to get you away from here and somewhere, anywhere, that’s safe.

“Let her go, Goblin!” Steve is trying to keep his tone as even as he can, hoping that the desperation he’s feeling isn’t obvious enough in his voice that the Green Goblin will pick up on it. He moves one hand up, getting ready to swing closer when the Goblin rises a bit higher in the air on his glider and holds out the hand not currently wrapped around your neck.

“Ah, ah, ah, Spider-Man! Come any closer and my hand may just slip,” the Goblin taunts, his hand loosening slightly on your neck as he pretends to almost drop you. Or maybe he’s not pretending; that guy’s mind is a bag full of barn cats on a good day, and today is not a very good day at all. You can’t help the noise you make, a strangled sort of shriek, as your fingers scramble to find purchase and hold onto the wrist of the hand that’s holding you up. It’s not very easy with your wrists bound, Steve imagines, but you do your best. He sees the kick you send in Goblin’s direction, which is more than likely intended to harm rather than help your balance, and there’s a tiny prick of fondness to Steve’s heart. That’s his girl. Well, okay, not his, per se, but close enough.

“Take it easy, Gobbie, I’m gonna stay right here.” For now. That stays unspoken, but Steve is trying to look for any opportunity to get you out of there. “You know, there are much better ways to make friends than this if you’re feeling lonely, y’know, that don’t reek of desperation and eau de jolly green giant.”

“I’ve been watching you, Spider-Man,” the Green Goblin says, hovering a little higher and putting his free hand behind his back as he ignores Steve’s jab at him. Which is a pity, really, because Steve was hoping it might start something and Steve could make him mad enough to put you back down on the roof and out of harm’s way. “And I’ve noticed that you’ve come to her aid more than a few times.”

Shit. Okay. That’s not what Steve was expecting. The Green Goblin has been spying on him, which is a weird enough concept, but he’s been paying close enough attention to pick you out of crowds of people that Steve has saved. He thought he’d been more careful than that; but when he thinks back on it, he realizes that there’ve been at least two incidents this month where you’d been caught up in something he’s taken care of as Spider-Man, and definitely once or twice that you’ve covered for him as Steve so he could go save the day. And Goblin had been watching, had been able to see you and connect you to Spider-Man. That has Steve’s stomach twisting, and he can’t help fidgeting as he tries to think up an excuse fast enough.

“It’s my job to save people, Gobbie. You know, you put them in danger and I rescue them, usually looking dashing in the process,” Steve fires back, gesticulating with one hand. He’s trying to be as nonchalant as he can, and he really hopes it’s working. He really needs to break that mask Green Goblin is wearing, and any other spares he’s got, because being unable to read his facial expressions would be very helpful in situations like this. Plus, it’s absolutely the stuff of nightmares and Steve could save a lot of people a lot of money on therapy bills if he smashed it to pieces. Maybe then he’d get a good piece of news printed about him. “Maybe she just hangs out in bad parts of the city. Or maybe bad guys think she’s good looking. You and I both know Kingpin’s henchmen always go for pretty people; they aren’t on the deep end of the gene pool.”

“I told you that I don’t know Spider-Man!” you yell out as best you can, though your voice sounds more than a little strained to Steve. He’s gotta make a move and he’s gotta do it sooner rather than later because he needs to get you as far away from here as possible.

“Hmm… so you don’t care what happens to her, then?” Goblin asks, and he loosens his grip once more. Steve reaches forward, unable to help himself as he reacts on instinct. You shriek again, kicking out and catching the Green Goblin on his side. He growls at you, flying up a little higher before turning back to Steve. “Then it’s time to choose, Spider-Boy!” Goblin says, cackling loudly. “Will you save her?” His hand tightens around your throat, and the pained noise you make has Steve’s jaw clenching. “Or will you save them?”

Goblin’s free hand, which Steve had not been looking at as closely as he should have been while you’re in danger, comes out from behind his back holding three pumpkin bombs. He waves that hand towards what Steve sees is a group of civilians, standing down below and watching this interaction like it’s some kind of sport to them.

His stomach twists and his chest tightens as his Spidey-Sense goes absolutely haywire. Shit. Shit. How is he supposed to choose between the people down there and you? Can he save everyone? He has to save everyone, he’s Spider-Man.

He’s not given time to make an actual choice, however, because Green Goblin is throwing the pumpkin bombs and then the hand he has around your throat disappears. You start to fall down towards the street below and Steve realizes that he’s going to have to move faster than he’s ever had to before because he absolutely can’t lose you. Not like this, not ever.

He lunges forward in your direction, pushing himself off the wall to give himself as much momentum as he can. While he’s soaring through the air, trying to position himself to be able to catch you, he launches some webs with his right hand up towards the three flying pumpkin bombs. He’s trying to web them together, hopefully turning them into one bigger webby blob ball to better keep track of them—and to make sure they get back to the place they came from.

He manages to catch the first two and lump them together as the blinking green lights on the front of the bombs start speeding up. When they stop blinking completely, that’s when they blow up; Steve knows that from unfortunate personal experience. His eyebrows haven’t been the same since that last time. He shoots another web to grab the third, bringing them all together as he manages to catch up to where you’re currently falling.

Steve tries to be as gentle as he can as he uses his free hand to grab you around your waist, but he’s pretty sure there’ll be bruises there tomorrow. He’ll feel bad about that once the two of you get out of this, because right now your safety is his priority and he needs to make sure you get out of this. He slips your arms around his neck, turning your bodies as best he can so that he’s below you and looking up at the twistedly jolly masked face of the Goblin.

Now’s his chance. Steve swings the ball in the direction of where the Goblin is flying confidently above the two of you, as hard and as fast as he can before releasing the web strand. As soon as he’s done that, as quickly as he can, Steve shoots another web up to tether the two of you to a balcony on the side of the building. He feels your arms tighten around his neck as the web helps slow your fall, and he feels a small wave of relief settle over his shoulders as the two of you hit the ground.

He’s about to open his mouth and say something when there’s a very loud BOOM! from up above, followed by a shriek. Yeah, that had to hurt. Which Steve really hoped it did. But if it didn’t… Well, Steve was going to make sure Goblin knew what it felt like to hurt. And he was going to do it now, before the jolly green bastard had a chance to run away.

He removes your arms from their spot around his neck and makes sure that you’re steady on your feet before he rips the rope binding your wrists. He makes sure to keep his touch gentle as he takes hold of your shoulders, looking at you through his mask.

“Get somewhere safe!” he urges you. You open your mouth, looking as if you want to say something, but he shakes his head. “Now!” His tone leaves zero room for argument, and while he regrets seeing the way it causes your forehead to furrow and your posture to shrink, he will not let you get hurt again.

You nod, and then you’re turning to find somewhere to take cover until this is over. Steve watches you go before he turns to look up towards the roof of the building. He can see Goblin, looking much worse for wear, trying to ride a rapidly smoking and sparking glider. Definitely not having fun, and Steve is not going to let this guy get away.

Steve shoots two webs, one from each hand, at two balconies on the top floor of the building. He walks backwards as quickly as he can to pull the webs taut. Then he lets go of each simultaneously as he jumps up, letting them slingshot him up as fast as possible so that he can launch himself directly at the flying green menace. He manages to land a kick to Goblin’s stomach, knocking him off his glider. The two of them crash down onto the roof of the building and Steve takes advantage of the element of surprise he gains to make sure he lands on top of the villain to pin him down and start throwing punches wherever they’ll land.

Steve chooses to let the rage he felt earlier bubble back up to the surface as his fists start cracking against Goblin’s helmet, his shoulders, his chest… anything that he can reach, he hits. Steve thinks about the terrified look on your face, about the noises you made with the Green Goblin’s hand around your throat, about what would have happened if he hadn’t caught you in time… He keeps punching until his arm aches and he’s sure his knuckles have split and he can see the blood splattered across the rooftop underneath them. Goblin’s helmet has cracked and split, small chunks of it littering the rooftop beneath his head. There’s a chunk missing now, and Steve can’t find it in himself to be anything other than overwhelmingly furious. Both at Goblin and at himself.

Steve pauses, just for a second, when he sees something glinting where the chunk of the mask is missing. He looks closer, and when he does, he catches sight of one pale blue eye staring back up at him before smoke starts to cloud his vision.

Shit. Green Goblin let off a smoke bomb. Steve is taken by surprise, and starts to cough as he feels smoke enter his lungs. He tries to clear the smoke away with his hands, but it’s coming fast and thick from below him and it’s not letting up. He shifts, closing his eyes, and that’s when he feels an elbow catch him in the cheek before he’s knocked off of the Green Goblin. He makes contact with the concrete of the roof and damn, that hurts. He groans, still coughing, but as he opens his eyes he notices the smoke start to dissipate. He gets up, trying to wave it away, and as he does so he sees that Goblin has gotten back on his glider and is currently flying away.

Damn it. Steve falls back onto his butt on the rooftop, breathing a little easier now that the smoke is dissipating, though he’s still frustrated that Goblin got away. Thursdays really are the worst.

He doesn’t stay down long, though, because he can hear the sound of sirens getting closer and he really does not want to stick around to have to deal with any cops today. He doesn’t have the most patience for them on a good day, and since today is not a good day, he’s going to avoid that mess as best he can.

As the sirens get louder, Steve scrambles over to the side of the roof to peer down. He catches sight of the police cars coming in fast, and sees the crowd down on the streets has started to get bigger now that the Green Goblin has taken off to lick his wounds. And among the crowd, he manages to pick you out. Relief washes over him like he’s taken a drink of something warm on a very cold day (which he absolutely wants to do later, hot chocolate is calling his name). It eases the knots in his chest, especially as he sees you walking out of the area and in the direction of your shared apartment building.

You’re safe. You stayed behind instead of leaving, but you’re okay and you’re heading in the direction of home. And he’s gonna meet you there to make sure you’re okay—or get you the help you need if you’re not. Which he knows he’ll have Robin’s backup on too (though she probably won’t be too happy if she sees he’s bruised and bloody, too).

He moves back from the edge of the roof, moving to the other side to jump a few buildings over as discreetly as he can in red and blue spandex. He knows he’s got an old backpack with some spare clothes in it around here somewhere that he’s going to change into; after what just happened, with Green Goblin linking you to Spider-Man, he doesn’t want to take any risks that might lead someone back to where you both live. Not after today, after being slapped in the face with the reality of how dangerous his life is.

Aha, there it is! Steve finds one of his backpacks webbed behind some shrubbery, and he’s quick to grab it and start going through the contents. God, is he ever thankful for his own forgetfulness right now. He’s got to have an embarrassingly high number of backpacks, duffle bags, gym bags, and the like hiding all over the city at this point, and he’s glad he remembered this one. It’s got a full outfit in it, thankfully, as well as an old set of keys he thought he’d lost; it’s the one with the ‘Let’s go, Lesbians!’ keychain Robin had given him, which he hadn’t told her was missing so this works in his favour.

He jumps down off the roof, bag in hand, and ducks into a secluded alleyway to change out of his suit as quickly and inconspicuously as he can (though he does end up hopping around quite a bit trying to get his torn up suit off and his jeans on). He packs his suit into the backpack before he’s shrugging it onto his shoulders and dipping out of the alley to make his way home.

He gets there pretty quickly, though you’re nowhere in sight as he bounds up the steps to the building and uses his keys to let himself in. Steve moves through the lobby, groaning as he sees that unfortunately, the elevators are still out of service. He hasn’t had time to completely take stock of all his injuries yet, but he knows from his walk to the building that his right leg is not gonna like having to climb five flights of stairs. But you’re upstairs, and Robin probably is too, and he needs to see you and make sure you’re alright. So he takes a deep breath and starts to climb the stairs.

By the time he makes it up to the floor your apartments are on, he’s just a little out of breath and his right thigh absolutely hates him. But he makes it, and that’s what matters, so Steve makes his way to where your door and his door sit across the hall from each other. He’s not exactly sure if you would have gone to your own apartment first, so he makes his way to your door and presses his ear against it. He really hopes none of the neighbours decide to leave their apartments or look out into the hall because this will look really weird. Not the weirdest thing Steve’s done since he moved in here, but still.

He doesn’t hear anything on the other side of the door. He waits for a few more minutes, just to be sure, before he moves away from your door and heads to his. Now he can hear voices, low and muted behind the surprisingly sturdy wood of the door, as he fishes his keys back out of his pocket and uses them to unlock the door. He pushes it open, stumbling slightly over the lip in the doorway as he comes inside.

As Steve closes the door behind him and toes his own shoes off, he catches sight of Robin’s boots and your shoes sitting haphazardly on the mat by the door. The relief that washes over him is immediate, knowing you made it home and you’re here with Robin, who will absolutely make sure that you’re okay. The fact that your shoes are still here means that you’re not hurt enough to need to go to the hospital, which eases the knots in his stomach just a bit. He absolutely doesn’t know what he’d do if he was the reason you ended up in a hospital.

He drops his bag by the door and hangs up his keys on their hook before he makes his way down the small front hall and into the living room. As he rounds the corner and the living room comes into sight, he sees Robin perched on the coffee table, directly in front of where he sees you sitting on their armchair. Both of you are looking in his direction, and he tries to offer up a smile as he walks fully into the room and raises one hand in a wave.

“Steven Augustus Harrington!” Robin yells, getting up off the coffee table (barely managing to avoid knocking over the Lego flowers that Will had given them as a housewarming gift) to stomp over to him. The effect is slightly undermined by the giant fuzzy bumblebee slippers she’s wearing, and Steve sighs as fond exasperation for his best friend and roommate wins over any annoyance he feels. You stay seated, albeit perched on the edge of the chair, but Steve can see the way your shoulders go from being up near your ears to slumping down to where they normally rest that you’re relieved to see him, too.

“That’s not my name,” he tells her, but she disregards it with a wave of her hand. Her nose is scrunched and her eyebrows are furrowed as she starts looking him over.

“What the fuck, Steve? Are you okay?” she asks, before she starts going off on him about personal safety and not to rush into danger like that—he’s not exactly paying as close attention as he probably should be. He’s assuming she either found out what happened from you or online—he knows she’s got alerts set up for any news stories or social media posts about Spider-Man (which he knows because every time that stupid #SpideyFails account posts she’s gotta share it with all of their friends). But Steve doesn’t really want to talk about himself or how badly that fight with the Green Goblin went right now; he’d much rather make sure you’re okay, find out what happened and just… he wants to talk to you. He needs to talk to you. To make sure you’re okay; you’re quiet, too quiet, and the more time goes by the more worried he’s getting.

“Robin, I’m fine,” he assures her, though the little line between her eyebrows only gets deeper as she stares at him. Steve rolls his eyes and nods his head in the direction of her bedroom door. She tilts her head to the side, and Steve gestures a little more forcefully, hoping she’ll take the hint that he wants some privacy with you. Robin raises an eyebrow, and Steve nods again, this time in your direction

He sees realization spread across Robin’s face, and she turns to look at you. You’d been staring at them, Steve realizes, and you look away when they both meet your gaze. Robin shakes her head slightly, walking in your direction. She gently places a hand on your shoulder and rubs it before she grabs the first aid kit Steve hadn’t realized was on the coffee table, throwing it at Steve. He barely manages to catch it, fumbling it a bit before he’s sure he won’t drop it.

“Use your tingle next time, dingus!” she says, shuffling off in her fuzzy bumblebee slippers. She disappears into her room, closing the door behind her with a very audible click of her lock. Which leaves Steve alone in the living room with you.

He makes his way over to where Robin was sitting earlier, plunking himself down on the edge of the coffee table. His right leg absolutely does not like that, but it’ll heal soon enough. He’s close enough that his knees brush against yours, and despite the worry weighing his shoulders down, he feels his cheeks get warm at how close he is to you. Your eyes meet his, and he tries to smile at you.

“Hey,” he says, fingers tapping against the first aid box he’s keeping in his lap. You don’t smile back, but you do take a deep breath.

“Hey,” you greet back, and to Steve’s ears your voice sounds more than a little strained, and a bit too raspy for his liking. That’s when he starts to look you over more closely, taking stock of your injuries.

His heart falls because you’re hurt worse than he thought. Sure, he was expecting some cuts and bruises, but he didn’t know you were this hurt. There’s harsh bruising that’s starting to appear on your neck–that’s where Goblin was holding you. Where his hands were wrapped around your neck, holding you in the air before he dropped you. When Steve closes his eyes, he can still hear your screams, can still see how you look plummeting through the air while he tries to reach you. He swallows the saliva starting to gather in his mouth because that image is going to be one that sticks with him whether he wants it to or not.

There are some other cuts and bruises he can see as well, on your face and on your hands, and he’s pretty sure your work clothes probably won’t be workplace acceptable anymore. He makes a mental note to take you to buy new ones as soon as he gets his next pay, even though you’ll try to refuse them and tell him it’s not his fault your clothes are ruined.

Except it is. In this case, it is Steve’s fault. His being Spider-Man has put you in danger and he’ll do everything he can to make up for it. And he’s going to start now, by helping clean you up. He opens the first aid kit in his hands, pulling out some disinfectant and some gauze and bandages. “Can I…?” he asks. He looks between them and you, and you nod your head so he starts to get to work.

He cleans the cuts on your face first, wiping the blood off your cheeks and your chin before he starts disinfecting the small cuts there. Your nose scrunches up in pain, and he apologizes quietly for any pain he’s causing you. His heart is beating erratically against his ribcage and his hands tremble slightly as he works, but he does his best to help you.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment before he has to ask, “Why did you stay? I told you to get somewhere safe.” Because the thought of you being in any more danger than you’d originally been in isn’t a good one; if anything had happened to you afterwards, if Steve had been paying attention and not gotten hit in the face with a smoke bomb and the fight had spilled out off the rooftop again and put you in harm’s way again… he doesn’t want to think about it. His brain, though, still hates him and makes him imagine it anyway. He presses a bandaid on your cheek before he starts cleaning the bruise on your neck.

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” You scoot closer to Steve, close enough that he can count the eyelashes on your lower lash line. He can smell the dirt and the blood on you, mixing with the faint scent of your shampoo and body wash. But your words make his gut twist.

“No you didn’t!” His words come out a little louder and a little more forceful than he means, but he’s starting to feel frustration thrum through his body, warming him in a way that has his chest start to burn. Hearing those words come out of you any other time would probably have had the opposite effect on him; you needed to make sure he’s okay? Caring about him like that? It’s probably friendly, but it’d have Steve smiling the rest of the day. Right now, though, he’s not happy to hear you say that “You needed to get out of there. Goblin is dangerous, you can’t be around him!”

Steve drops the medical supplies back into the first aid kit on his lap, reaching his hands up to tangle in his hair instead. It’s knotty; that happens sometimes, when he shoves it under the mask without brushing it or after he gets it wet, and he winces as his fingers encounter a particularly bad tangle. You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back in the armchair.

“You have no right to lecture me when I’ve thought I was gonna lose you more times than I can count!” Your voice is rising in pitch, but Steve stays firm where he is. “How many times have I had to see, on the news or on Twitter, that you were getting thrown around by Doc Ock? Or blown up by Green Goblin? And I’m not even going to talk about the giant lizard you chased through the sewers last week!” Yeah, the lizard guy was a relatively new bad guy that no one had believed Steve about until he managed to get the creature to come up onto the street. This one was probably gonna be smelly. “And then you show up at my window, bleeding and half-dead, and I’m supposed to clean you up and be okay with that?”

One of your hands comes to push against his chest, a line appearing between your eyebrows as you frown at him. He feels the warmth spread further as he gets more frustrated because you’re not getting that this is what Steve does, this is what it means to be Spider-Man. He needs to protect people from being blown up or turned into lizards. Would you want to be a lizard? He doesn’t think so. You’d probably be a pretty lizard, potentially, but he’s not sure he wants to see that.

“Yes, because I can take it! I am the one who got bit by that stupid spider, not you!” Which is the truth; Steve knows he can take a beating and keep on going; it’s one of the few good things that came out of that visit to the CreelCorp plant. Yeah, maybe he lets himself go a bit too far sometimes, but it’s to protect the people of the city, and the people he loves. It’s to protect you, and if he loses a little (or a lot of) blood and has a broken bone or four, then it’s worth it. It’ll always be worth it to him. But apparently not to you, because you throw your hands up in the air.

“So? Why does that matter right now?”

“Because I almost lost you!” The flood gates open, and words come pouring out of Steve’s mouth before he can think to stop himself. “I could have lost you, and when I saw Goblin with you I thought I was going to lose you and I could never live with myself if that happened. If I lose you then there’s no point! The mask, the suit, everything! I won't keep going without you. The world can live without Spider-Man but I could never live without you!”

This is not how Steve wanted to do this. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to tell you how he really felt about you because the thought of you not feeling the same and pulling away from him if he confessed? Not a good one. He never wanted to lose you in any capacity, but after having this happen he can’t keep it inside anymore. Really, you deserved better; you deserve someone who can keep you safe, whose entire existence doesn’t put you in danger. You deserve someone who can give you all the time and attention you could ever want, and probably wouldn’t run the risk of getting blown up or stabbed or missing your birthday because of a lizard who wants to give the city a cold-blooded makeover (which is, unfortunately, a very real possibility these days).

But god, does Steve love you. His chest aches with how much he loves you, how much he wants to hold you close and keep you safe. How much he hates himself for letting this happen to you, for letting you get hurt and letting himself be stupid enough to not realize what the Green Goblin had been doing. You were always there for him, letting him crawl through your bedroom window and ruin your rugs as you patch him up; letting him stay over at yours so he doesn’t worry Robin more than he already does. You take care of him, and you see him as both Steve and Spider-Man without treating him any differently. You’re witty and funny and kind, and you don’t treat him any differently knowing who he is and what he can do. And he’d never, ever want to live without you. He couldn’t do it, because he’s absolutely sure his heart only exists to beat for you, to tattoo your name across his ribcage. And he’d never want things to be any different.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts, though, by something tugging him forward before his lips are meeting something soft and warm. It takes his brain a second to catch up with his body, though.

Oh.

You’re kissing him. Steve is pretty sure his Spidey-Sense combusts completely along with his brain because your lips are on his and one of your hands is fisted in the front of his shirt. He’s not completely sure he isn’t dreaming until his right thigh bumps against the coffee table as he moves forward, leaning into the kiss, and it stings. Pain has never made him feel so giddy.

He’s awake. You’re kissing him, and this is real, and all the frustration Steve had been holding onto melts into fondness, into giddy excitement as his lips move against yours. They fit together better than he could have imagined.

One of his hands comes up to brush against your neck on its way to cup your cheek, and he feels you flinch. Oh, god, your neck. He’d completely forgotten about the bruising while he was caught up in the whirlwind of finally being able to kiss you.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, but you shush him. Your one hand is still gripping his shirt tightly, but your other comes up to push his hair out of his face. Your touch is gentle, the pads of your fingers feather light against his forehead, and he leans into your touch.

“S’okay, it’s not your fault,” you tell him. He presses his forehead to yours, panting slightly as your warm breath fans across his face. “Did you mean that? What you said about losing me?” Steve nods, and for the first time since this messy Thursday started Steve starts to feel like maybe the day isn’t so terrible because he sees a smile start stretching across your face. You’re here, you’re alive, and you kissed him. And he absolutely word vomited his feelings all over you, but you’re still here. And you kissed him. Did he mention that already? Yeah, he’s gonna think about that for a while.

“I’ll always do everything I can to protect you. I’d do anything for you,” he assures you, before continuing, “I promise I meant it. All of it.”

The way your eyes sparkle and he can see you perk up and look so much more like yourself as he says that has Steve feeling like the stick of butter he accidentally left on the stove the other day when he turned it on to make dinner; warm and melty. He loves it. “Me too,” you tell him. “I feel the same for you.”

The kiss had kind of confirmed that, but hearing it out loud seals the deal. Steve loves you, you at the very least like him like him, and he got to kiss you once. He wants to do that more than once, and right now seems like a fantastic time. But right as he goes in to take some initiative of his own and kiss you this time, Robin’s door flies open and she comes tumbling out into the living room. Steve jumps, his knees smashing into yours as he almost falls backwards onto the coffee table. You lean back in the chair too, looking over at Robin, who gets up and dusts herself off. Steve sees she has her phone in her hand, and her cheeks are bright pink as she stares at the two of you with her mouth agape.

“Oh my god, were you two finally about to kiss?” she asks, and Steve groans loudly because the moment is officially ruined. He was so close, too! God, yeah, Thursdays really do suck.

“Damn it, Robin!” he yells, dropping his face into his hands.

“No, no, pretend I’m not here! Go ahead!”

“We’re not gonna kiss with you watching! That’s weird!”

“No it’s not!” Robin insists. You shake your head, watching the two of them going back and forth. “Ugh, this is so unfair! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen?”

“Not as long as me, I promise you that!” He moves one hand off of his face to throw a roll of soft bandages in Robin’s direction. It doesn’t sound like it connects, but he’ll get her back for this later.

He hears your phone start buzzing so much it falls off the arm of the chair. Steve doesn’t even want to know what kind of messages he’s getting right now and is absolutely glad his phone is somewhere on a rooftop right now. He swears he’s gonna end up blocking Dustin and Eddie again, and this time they’ll stay blocked for at least a whole day. Maybe two.

But he’ll definitely sneak in through your window later tonight, if you’ll let him, and steal a kiss of his own. The first of many, he hopes, and he can’t help the giddy smile on his face at the thought.

Yeah, Thursdays suck hard. But this one is definitely better than most.

...

tag list: @stevebabey

[acerathia]

Trick or Treat? TREAT!

Vampire Kakashi for @strawberrystepmom <3 for this event, literally going insane about this oops, thank u sm for sending smth in

There's something off about Kakashi, and you intend to find out.

wc: 1.0k

cw/tags: borderline stalker behaviour (reader), kakashi is a vampire, twilight reference? maybe, implied blood drinking after this scene is over

You’ve known Kakashi for some time now, but he still is full of mysteries. Because sometimes he looks like he aged ten years, all heavy shoulders, pale skin and dark eyebags, and the rest of the time, he looks almost like a young adult still getting to know the world around him, all grins, laughter and mischief. And you have to admit, you’re curious. How is this man cheating time, or he just has a really good skincare routine. Either way, you wanted to know the details, even if it just means to have that glowing skin in the early mornings. 

So, you investigate, you don’t do anything dangerous or illegal, even if only borderline legal. But you study his schedule, trying to find a rhyme or reason to the way his entire mood changes. And as much as you try to look into it, there’s no connection between his work life, his non-existent relationships, and the erratic changes. 

After months of investigation, you decide to do one last thing, one last try to discover the truth: you’re going to follow him home. Just once, hopeful you might catch the exact way he’s doing whatever he’s doing. 

With that decision, one day you start tailing him. And at first, his way seemed normal, getting groceries, chatting with older ladies. Until it started getting late, that’s when he slowly made his way to the edge of the forest, walking along the borders, following no real path. At this stage, you had to keep a bigger distance between you and him, lest he discovers you before anything really happens. 

A couple of meters behind, you continue to follow him with slow, careful steps, until he finally enters a big mansion, and you just stop in front of it, stunned. How did he own such a place? And why would he keep it a secret? 

You frown at the front door, refusing to reach that level of behavior, so you try to sneak a peek through the window. To your misery, there were heavy curtains in front of them, barring you from seeing inside at all. 

A curse slips over your lips, and you resign, you can only go home now, maybe even give the whole operation up as a whole. You were about to turn around, when the door suddenly opens, and you can’t help but flinch a couple of steps away, skin getting hotter at the prospect of getting caught. 

“Good evening. How long did you want to wait in front of the door?” Kakashi asks, leaning against the door frame, something like amusement glinting in his dark eyes. 

“Uh, I– I was just about to go?” you croak, trying to find the chance to turn around and flee. 

He cocks his head, contemplating. “Well, you already made quite an effort to tail me all day, why not come in and rest? Drink a cup of tea?”

You splutter, embarrassment flooding into your brain as he seems to have known all along, so you nod, accepting his proposal. 

He nods, too, opening the door wider to allow you to enter his place. And as you walk in, you notice how dim the light inside is, how no sun is able to penetrate these heavy curtains, and you can’t help but frown. This cannot be healthy in any way. But you’d rather die than to tell him that you question his decor choices. 

So, you just follow him silently, taking a seat in the living room, and this place reminds you of some gothic manor, all soft and expensive. 

He sits opposite you, crossing his feet in an elegant manner, and for some reason this doesn’t feel like the Kakashi you know, it’s almost like there’s a wholly different person in front of you, and you get goosebumps at the thought of him being a total stranger. 

“So–”

“I’m sorry! Don’t murder me, it would be a shame to get blood stains on this beautiful sofa, it’s not worth it, is it?” you start rambling, trying to convince him to not kill you, you value your life, and everyone makes mistakes, why should you die for it?

A chuckle interrupts your frantic thoughts. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But because you put in the effort to ‘investigate’ what’s wrong with me, I shall just tell you. And I’m telling you this, because no one will believe you,” he explains in his deep voice, compelling you to just listen to him. “Well, you see, it’s simple, really. I’m a vampire.”

“Are you fu–”, you stop in the middle of your complaint, putting the pieces together. If he drinks blood, he looks rejuvenated, and if he has abstained for too long, he looks like he’s about to meet his early grave, and you’ve never seen him without his mask, or eating anything. “Wait… But what about the sun?”

“My skin is barely exposed to the sun like that, and this bit of exposition won’t hurt me as long as I take my time to repose in the dark,” he explains, his eyes telling you how funny your reaction is to him. 

And you can’t help but wonder how he looks without the mask, all fangs and blood, dark eyes heavy and lidded after a satisfying drink. You swallow and take a deep breath. 

“Uhm, wow, okay. I was not expecting this… Can I– Can I see your fangs? Only if you feel comfortable to do so, I was just wondering…” you trail off, as he pulls his mask down without hesitation, and in front of you suddenly sits someone with such beauty, your mind needs some time to reboot. 

There they are, his fangs, glinting and sharp, and barely biting into the skin of his lips. You wonder how much they hurt. How they would feel against your skin, against your neck. 

You can’t help but stare at him, one question remaining. “How does it work?”

His eyes, suddenly heavy, glance all over your face, only to graze your neck. “Do you want to find out?”

[remyfire]

It definitely is! I always love some AUs, but I have so much trouble coming up with them for this show because so few things can match the energy of being at war together. The small space and the trauma and everything else combine to create some really interesting character dynamics, and they're so hard to replicate in a place with lower stakes or more space or just anything where one of the variables is changed. I have so much respect for someone who can write it well (and will definitely read that fic) and wish I could do the same! But hey, making things far more complicated than they need to be is the life of a writer 😂

I completely understand how you feel with the canoe ship though, I am the Queen of Canoes in a couple of my other fandoms 😂 I literally originated a ship tag for one on Ao3, so I'm right there with you on the tiny ships I would go to war for lmao. But yes BJ is so husband coded all the time! BJ Papa San showed it most explicitly, but even just the little things he does in camp are him trying to connect to the husband and father part of himself he left behind when he got sent over to Korea. He's a good person, but he also so genuinely enjoys that role, and it's so obvious to see if you're looking for it. We love a man that's respectful and kind 😤

Mulcahy is so interesting, and I look forward to that episode mentioned! Due to several literature and art classes over the course of my schooling I have become very good at using my Catholic upbringing to completely overanalyze Catholic media, and I am absolutely delighted to be able to pull it in here. It's clear that Mulcahy is genuinely kind and believes in goodness, and I think if he ever comes to the realization that religion isn't always the way to show that it'll tear him apart. He's devoted so much of his life to his religion (hell the man is named after three saints, he was practically BORN to be a priest) so anything that can dismantle that would hit him really hard. And unfortunately, I love throwing my favorite characters into difficult situations, so sorry in advance Father. I loved the glimpse into his head in Dear Sis, and I genuinely had to rewind a few times to watch Hawkeye talking to him over again. It's just so a u g h (affectionate)

I also just finished C*A*V*E and oh boy oh boy I could probably write half a novel on this already but I'll try to keep it short for now. The Hawkeye and Margaret connection! The deeper peek into who Hawkeye is as a person rather than just a doctor, and what actually makes him tick! Margaret sharing her own fears and offering to sit with him to make him feel better! BJ staying close to Hawkeye when he had to come check on his patient in the cave so Hawk knows he has someone safe nearby! Margaret and Hawkeye facing their fears together! Hawk playing a dumb little game with her in the OR to take her mind off things!! This episode is truly making me Feral oh my god, I don't think it will ever leave my brain, it's just gonna live there now.

It is SUCH a good show! I knew it was before but now that I'm actually watching it through I'm getting the full weight of it and god it's a masterpiece. You can talk about the cultural impact all day, but it's hard to truly understand w h y it had such an impact until you're watching it yourself and picking up on all these little intricacies. I've been keeping a list of good episodes for myself, just for Personal Reasons I can't really explain, and there are f a r too many episodes on that list already. So many are just so good, I want to remember them and rewatch them and frankly just roll around in them like a dog that's found a particularly nice patch of grass. This show already shaped me when I watched it with my parents when I was younger but genuinely I don't think I will be the same after watching it all the way through. Just, what a show.

Weeping. After reading this, I had to go check my Canoe status. In this fandom, I have originated 5 ship tags (Trap/Peg, BJ/Leo, BJ/Klinger, Margie/Klinger, Sam/Sid/Hawk) and I have been between the 2nd and 5th story in 10 more ship tags (Sid/Beej, Marg/Beej, Trap/Mulcahy, Trap/Margie, Hawk/Klinger, Marg/Beej/Hawk, Trap/Klinger, Sid/Beej/Hawk, Sid/Sam, BJ/Charles). Why did I do this to myself. It's a lonely life isn't it hfksdfds

But it also makes perfect sense that this fandom is ripe for rare ships because though they are in the center of a situation that demands order, there is very little sense of actual social order as they might experience back home. I think even if I wasn't The Way I Am with multishipping, I'd still be compelled to go, "Yeah, you know what, everything is pretty permissible here. The line between friendship and lover blurs often. There's not much demand for monogamy among denizens of this camp. They're seeking comfort and love where they can find it and they're all very good at giving it." It compels me idk

I'm really enjoying hearing your thoughts about Mulcahy!! I feel the same way about him as well, how he's ripe for a thunderbolt realization or two that his faith isn't going to be the Way and, in fact, is often dealing the damage in a lot of situations. I love you mentioning his three names, though. It immediately takes my mind right back to Trapper and his own long series of very Catholic names. Trap, I am putting you in a jar and staring very hard at you. Tell me your Catholic past. Did you really consider becoming a priest. Why didn't you and Mulcahy get more screen time together.

CAVE MY BELOVED. CAVE, my Margaret/Hawk/BJ thesis (yes, even in a platonic sense, I promise, no one come for me). I think the first time I heard BJ say, "Thank heavens none of us has to stand it alone," I had to pause and fold my hands and stare at the wall. The support all three of them give each other. BJ bringing a cup of comfort and it being passed to Margaret because Hawkeye knows she needs it too. It always makes me sad when people read that as a jealousy moment from BJ when he snuggles down just as close to her and isn't being snippy or annoyed at her presence. He cares them! He cares them both! And such a really lovely way for Hawk and Margaret to continue sinking into each other, to carve out even more level ground between them, ugh. I'm unwell about it. It's so delightful.

It really is so fascinating, returning to this show as adults, huh? It's a completely different experience. There's some grief there because we can still relate to so much of what they're talking or snipping or griping about in our modern, continuously-war-waging era, but also it's absolutely remarkable how timeless it has become. And being able to analyze it now with such depth due to the easy streaming access and the online fan communities, it's incredible. Chef's kiss.

[lonelyshrimp]

What happened with your roomies if you don’t mind me asking...?

 Yknow what I’m in a mood and they don’t know my tumblr (haha they think I’m a cisstraight girl lol) so let’s get into some shit. Imma put everything under a read more bc imma rant a bit and this is gonna get long.

TW: food, unsanitary (general things not being kept clean, typically bathroom and kitchen related), drug use, fighting, slurs

tl;dr if you dont feel like reading this beast:

They steal what food i dare leave out in the kitchen rather tan keep in my room

They slam doors excessively, fight, yell horrible things to each other, have friends over yelling at like 2 am (last night for example)

Leave the doors unlocked and open?? We cant even lock the front door anymore??? (Dw the doors to our rooms all have locks. If I’m in my room or out of the house, my door is locked)

Constantly throw around the r slur. Like. All the time. Including one person having called me it. Y i k e s

One person keeps smoking in the house even though i’ve asked numerous times (and even have a note on my door) asking people to please smoke outside, it gives me headaches. You are physically hurting me stop.

Don’t Clean Anything. The kitchen is a wreck. The toilets are constantly clogging, I Am In Hell.

For context: the house is a one story house divided into a main floor and finished basement. It’s a rooming house and the basement is largely seperate from upstairs. (They have a kitchen door that they keep closed and locked.) The stairs to the basement are split into two smaller flights, with a landing in between the floors. That’s where the side door is. The public spaces upstairs are the kitchen (connects to stairs), the hallway, and the two bathrooms (big main one, tiny water closet by the front door). The rest of the upstairs is split into five rooms. For comprehension sake, we’ll call my roommates: The Couple (M&F), A, T, and J.

Mmkay lets start with the least egregious and move our way up, shall we? Theft! Of anything and everything! No one can have anything out in the public areas if they actually care about it. It. Will. Get. Stolen. Now, I have a mini fridge and the second biggest room here, so I’m lucky in that 99% of my groceries, as well as all my other belongings, fit in my room. There’s just a wee problem: I don’t have a freezer. Not to fear, past naïve me thought, I’ll just clean out and use the locked freezer since I still have the keys for that fridge! (We have two fridges and food theft was a problem beforehand and so me and my friend who lived here cleaned out the second fridge to use as our own and kept it locked.) I decided to do this after I had bought myself some ice cream, wrote my name on the top, and put it in the main freezer. I go to have some ice cream later that week, I open the tub for the first time (as in I removed the seal holding the lid onto the tub) to find that someone eaten half the tub of ice cream while making it seem like it hadn’t been opened. I know it happened at home bc the spoon marks were clear as day and I have to walk 20 minutes back from the grocery store. That woulda melted by then (Also I would’ve noticed at the store that. The tub was hella lopsided??? And way too light???) So yea of course I’m ticked now, I spent 6 bucks on that bro like just ask or get ur own??? So I put it the other freezer, and for a while it’s fine. Next month I decide to treat myself to some frozen waffles and some chicken strips and come home to find that the hinges holding the locks onto the doors of the fridge were torn out of the fridge/freezer doors. Like. The screws were pried outta this metal door rendering the locks completely useless (to the point i wouldn’t even be able to put the hinges back on.) And the cherry on top?? My ice cream was gone!!! Hope u enjoyed it, asshole. So whatever. Fine. I put my food away and. a week later?? Im like “Man i could go for some waffles rn��. I bought 2 8 packs. One chocolate chip, one cinnamon (y’all i literally buy the cheapest ones Zehrs sells. 2,19$ a box y’all. not even eggos). Surprise surprise!! The entire box of choccy chip ones GONE. Mind u, i wrote my name on all of these boxes, as well as a very large “DO NOT EAT”. so i begrudgingly had a couple (note that, 2) cinnamon waffles and move on. A couple days later I go to have some more and. The waffles are completely gone. Out of a total of 16 waffles, ya boy got a solid 2. (It’s worth noting that there was a single waffle left, but at 0,27$ a waffle, I didn’t mind leaving the box on the table with a note basically reading “these are cheap af, buy ur own bitch”.) (I didn’t swear that much tho)

I’d add the bike to the list but i can’t confirm nor deny that one of my roommates stole my tires and seat off my bike (although M does work on bikes all the time so man idk.)

Next up: wow people here are l o u d. I’m talking slamming doors all the time, slamming things around, yelling, playing music wildly loud. It’s awful. Like. You can just. Close the door quietly? Stop slamming things around please? It’s awful because loud sudden noises make me panic and lemme tell ya, wakin up at eight am bc your a-hole roommate decided to slam the door eight times bc the front door is broken because someone took the border around the jamb off instead of fixing it so we can actually?? lock that door?? because it doesnt quite fit in the jamb and so the only wat to lock it was the chain lock and. someone took that too so thats fun :)))))). The side door isn’t that much better. We have a code lock and. No One Ever Locks It. Like. I’ll come outta room and?? It’s just open????? Close the door???????????

The worst, however, is the fucking fighting. The Couple love to argue all the time. and yell at each other and slam the doors or smashing shit and they yell pretty awful things to each other. Like. I’ve heard M call his gf some awful shit. It’s worse when they have people over too. The other day there were like. 14 cops in here bc of them at like 2 am. Cue me, 2 am, trying to watch a livestream and seeing like??? Six cop cars pull up????? Wh a t????? Not fun not good for my brain.

God and. What is with everyone and the r slur??? Like what?? there are so many words you can choose stop using that word. Like okay the other night someone?? took the dc adapter for the wireless modem and one of the dudes downstairs as well as the couple were looking to see if they had a compatible dc adapter and so i just decided to wait?? and i just spaced out a bit okay whatever i was lookin at the wall like i do and fuckin. the couple had a couple friends over and one of em was chillin between the kitchen and the hall and M yells out from his room “Hey don’t you feel weird with this creepy ass bitch standing next to you? Like what is she, m*ntally r*tarded?” like wow okay dude i’m literally not doing anything. Luckily his friends reaction was basically “?? She lives here?? She can stand there if she wants??” (wow referring to myself as she feels weird and wrong).

A big problem I have is I feel like theres a community in this house that I just don’t fit into? Part of it is I’m like. the only person here who doesn’t do drugs of any kind?? Like I have nothing against ppl who use drugs like whatever bro, but it feels super othering to me when i can’t relate to anyone here because of it. That and. Getting T in particular but really just anyone but A to respect me asking that if you’re going to smoke anything to do it outside because weed and to a lesser extent cigarette smoke trigger my sensory disorder and causes me pain and causes sensory overload and I still find myself asking people to smoke outside.Like I’ve never been unreasonable and said “no drugs in the house” or some bs. I’m just asking u to respect my disability thanks.And like?? I’ll get into this in a second but there were needles in the toilet?? Bro throw them out properly.

And now: Hell.

Can no one clean up after themselves?? Do your dishes. If theres food left on your plate, throw it out first, don’t dump it in the sink. Seriously the kitchen sink is fucked. The kitchen is gross. The microwave ugh ugh ugh no thanks. No one can clean everything. This is why all my cookware and dishes are in my room. That way I can make sure I 1) Still Own It and 2) Its clean and usable. I clean them as I go and just use my own shit.

Nothing compares to the bathrooms, though. It seems like every other day one of the toilets are clogged. Last week there were spoons in the sink?? Like at least 10 spoons. In the bathroom sink. The floor is dirty because no one owns a mop and?? there was one in the kitchen?? I haven’t seen it in like a month. And the worst of all. Okay, it’s really bad when every one up here is between like. 16 and 19 I think? And I had to put up a sign in the bathroom asking people to flush when you’re done??? And I still have to flush before I can use the washroom???? And it feels like every week or so. The toilet’s clogged. Oh! I forgot to mention that the water closet doesn’t even have a doorknob anymore. Someone took it. But wait, it gets worse. Seriously if extremely unsanitary things bother u, stop reading now.

Twice in the past month I’ve had to contact the landlord because the toilets were beyond clogged. The first time was bad but oh lord nothing compares to the second time (aka last week). The first time was your pretty standard toilet clogs and backs up and its very gross. I contacted the landlord and it was fixed the next day and it was fine. For. Two Days. Im serious. See. People here have a real issue it seems of “The person before me didn’t flush so neither will I”, leading to a toilet bowl full of like. a half a roll of toilet paper and waste. F u n. What that led to was the toilet clogging, people not doing anything about it, and continuing to use it. Eventually the toilet bowl was full, so trow a shopping bag over the lid to mark the toilet as “Out of order” and move on to the other one.Both toilets were completely unusable. I emailed the landlord and i don’t know if either they or one of the people living here contacted them, but the old landlord and old property manager were here the other day to clean them out and fix them?? and yea among all the standard waste you’d expect in a toilet, there were needles? Like buddy theres a trash can right there? I know u had the needle caps bc they were in there too. just... disgusting...

bro this is just what i can think of off the top of my head i know theres more but oh no this is so long now. just. this is a lot more detail than u wanted but i wanted to get this out of my brain??

[catch-the-wind]

when reader is sick hc's p2

PART 2 IS FINISHED WHOO

here's a link to part 1 uwu

so i'm still brainrotting over this and i would like to date almost every character rn~ i probably won't add more to this unprompted but if anyone wants a part 2 just shoot me an ask! <3

tags: gn!reader, xiao x reader, zhongli x reader, ningguang x reader, beidou x reader, kazuha x reader, amber x reader, keqing x reader, venti x reader, scaramouche x reader, thoma x reader

xiao

this man is so awkward goodbye

he’s really popping into the kitchen of wangshu inn like mr. smiley yanxiao i need an order of almond tofu and uhh whatever the hell it is sick people eat

asks cloud retainer if there’s a medicinal thing she’s created and hey can you fix my s/o

meanwhile his s/o is like xiao- xiao- XIAO- it’s a COLD i’ll SURVIVE, stop leaving me to find solutions and just come cuddle

so xiao cuddles <3 he’ll read to his partner but it’s likely he’s also just sitting there in silence holding his s/o

he likes the companionship, doesn’t talk much. comfy silence all around

his partner probably falls asleep on him at some point but he’s okay with it

he probably watches his partner while they rest and he’s super frowny because he hates seeing them in pain :(

but also the gentle forehead kisses while his partner rests <3

he tells zhongli that he needs time to be with his s/o while they’re ill. he makes it sound like his partner is dying which is...overdramatic but also he just wants to dote on them and make sure they’re okay

he asks verr goldet what things a sick person might want while his partner rests and then he tries to kinda sorta subtly ask for help getting them

tries to dote on his partner subtly but he’s so grumpy all the time LOL

n e ways he gives his partner smooches and cuddles and that’s all that matters uwu

zhongli

he doesn’t even have to really say it to hu tao, she just knows he’s about to ask for a few days off. he does ask, ofc bc he’s following the protocols of social etiquette

he goes to his partner’s home or they’re in his for the entire time they’re sick

has a shopping list of foods for a sick person, also gets tea

has no mora to purchase anything on his shopping list so he hits up tartaglia LMAO

tartaglia comes w zhongli just to visit zhongli’s s/o

hu tao also comes to visit zhongli and co but he’s so wary of her because is she about to pull a prank- really she just brings him some tea he likes and wishes his s/o well <3 she probably sings to them too but it’s a little creepy if you listen to the lyrics LOL

this man is not reading his partner stories, they’re getting histories, pov morax. he knows so many little details that are lost in time but are kept safely in his memories

the man works out, tell me otherwise. he may choose his own body and he knows he has cake but the man works out and trains. he’s a god of WAR and he keeps himself in good shape. n e way he works out in the living room or backyard while his s/o is sick and he trains w just a shirt and pants and he’s so pretty aHEm i think my asthma is acting up again hang on

okay but muscles rippling and you can see it through the clothes that aren’t even that tight BUT BRO WHY ARE YOU GRUNTING SO MUCH PLEASE NO ONE ELSE DOES

would probably get his partner toys and such and one of them is a little dragon <3 give it smooches every day

he’s distracted when he answers hu tao or the adepti because he’s thinking ab his partner instead

ningguang

the frown on her face when she finds out PHEW

she takes her partner’s temperature with the back of her hand and she’s all frowny all day. ganyu is lowkey concerned bc what’s the matter with lady ningguang-

her partner stays in ningguang’s home and she’s working from home for a while <3 there are millelith guards and members of the qixing popping into her home office and even beidou once or twice. bei is also worried ab ning’s partner, but she’s doing the hearty slap on the back and the “get well soon!”

ningguang ordering food from wanmin and xiangling personally delivering it <3 xiangling and guoba are both showing up with some hot soup and guoba is there for cuddles pls he’s so cute

ningguang will read to her partner, probably tells them about her day and entertains small talk until they fall asleep

she cooks some of her qiankun mora meat and tries to make her partner soup <3 the millelith and the qixing have never seen their tianquan in a kitchen working before but she would only ever do it for the people she loves

keqing is in the corner quietly shipping while munching golden shrimp balls goodbye

i think ningguang respects ganyu too much to force her to run around for stuff but ganyu probably likes ning’s partner enough to do it anyway

ning and cuddles and temple kisses and she won’t give her partner smooches on the lips :( but she’s soft for them so they get cheek kisses and spooning them to sleep

beidou

she stays at her partner’s place while they’re sick because the crux might make them feel seasick instead

but she goes back and forth to the crux to get her things and take care of business and such. her crew probably loves her partner so they have things for bei to bring back <3

bei doesn’t even leave her partner’s town but she’s got sango pearls, cecilias, qingxin, cor lapis jewelry, dendrobiums (even though those are like. blood flowers. they’re pretty it’s fine) and many many fruits

xiangling comes by with food for bei and co and sticks around to hear beidou telling her partner stories about her time at sea

beidou is. she’s so buff okay. she carries her partner in and out of the room and to the living room or kitchen or brings everything to her partner and you can see how defined her muscles are bye i’m in love with her

we already know bei learned to cook a little bit from xiangling but beidou is absolutely learning to cook more while her partner is sick. xiangling is there giving her cooking lessons while beidou’s partner watches <3 bei with that look of concentration and she’s so quick with the knives too i’m- okay but her spoonfeeding her partner?? *chef’s kiss* ;)

beidou puts too much pepper in a dish and it deffo clears sinuses LMAO but she tried and it actually does taste very good if you can handle your spice 🤷‍♀️ i cannot so find me with a gallon of milk later

n e ways beidou cuddles her partner to sleep and falls asleep as soon as she knows they’re resting <3 many cuddles and many kisses, even if they insist not to because cooties will get u sick bei 🥺

visits bubu’s pharmacy to get her partner’s medicine herself but also has remedies from other places too! zhongli deffo helps her with some other gifts for convalescents so it’s historically, traditionally and socially acceptable

kazuha

is so worried omg

wherever his ass is, he’s going to his partner as soon as he finds out they’re sick. he’s so frowny and worried it’s almost cute but also,,,kazu it’s a cold, it’s FINE

he goes to collect qingxin and sweet flowers and stuff himself and makes his own poultices and soups and such <3

he shows up at his partner’s home with arms and buckets of flowers and herbs as soon as he possibly can. bei understands if he has to go tho, she gives him leave uwu

makes his partner soup and dried fish and gives them many smooches <3 they are not allowed out of bed LOL they just have to stay there and wait for him to dote on them

many many cuddles and smooches. he plays leaves and grass and recites poems for them he’s so cute <3 sigh, this man plays grass and i’m out here simping

also comes bearing gifts from wherever he was last tho. if he was on the crux, he’s probably got gifts from beidou and the crew even if they don’t really know kazu’s partner, they just know he’s happy and that’s what matters. if he’s not on the crux, his boss probably gives him leave and a gift or smth even if it’s just like a tea or a bottle of wine or smth

he’ll cuddle and be a blanket. but he’s also got fabrics that beidou picked up in inazuma and he uses that as a blanket for his partner <3

will tell his s/o stories of his childhood, his time wandering, his time with the crew, his work. anything they want to know or have questions about, he’ll tell them.

forehead kisses, temple kisses, holding his partner’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of their hand ugh i love him

deffo gets sick because he can’t deny his partner smooches on the lips smh. and then it’s his partner’s turn to play nursemaid

the crew from the crux probably drops by to check on kazoo man and co. they bring some regional delicacies and blankets and their best cold remedies with a slap on the back for kazu and a gentler pat for his partner. like w ningguang’s partner, bei probably gives kazu’s s/o a hearty slap but it’s not enough to hurt them

anyway i’m in love with him

amber

she’s so worried she’s such a sweetie omg

she goes to her partner immediately and fusses over them before they have to gently tell her that they’re fine

she goes to collect sweet flowers and stuff and goes to ohm, albedo and barbara for help making medicines and such

doesn’t want to leave her duties unattended to but jean also knows that amber wants to be with her s/o so she tells amber that she has fewer duties for her <3

jean tells kaeya to go make sure amber is doing okay and doesn’t need help or anything so he drags ohm, diluc, albedo and lisa too LOL

lisa was planning on going anyway, she just used diluc to carry her books w this opportunity <3 albedo is just treating amber’s partner w meds and potions and things and lisa takes a peek at that too

she’s so sad she doesn’t have ohm’s super cold skin so she can’t be a human cooling pack for her partner </3 but she gives them many smooches on cheeks and foreheads and temples

barely resists giving her partner kisses on the lips bc she still wants to go to work but also wants to give her partner what they need and sigh. it’s a struggle for amber

she wears pajamas and cuddles with her s/o <3

cooks her partner some (fully cooked!!) meals, not her specialty steak. but she makes soup and goes to good hunter and gets good hot food there too

keqing

wants to take some time off to help her partner feel better but also doesn’t want to leave work. ningguang probably sends her home at some point because she’s fretting and working and stop feeling so bad keqing, you have sick days

she still goes to work but she’s just taking marginally shorter days sigh, she goes home early instead but brings work home so she can do it while sitting with her partner

wears leisure clothes when at home with her partner but the fact that she has clothes she doesn’t use for work is shocking LMAO the cat ears stay tho ;) catgirl always

ganyu comes by with keqing’s work, some wanmin takeout and a card and gift for her partner <3

xiangling hears that keqing is home with her partner while they’re sick and brings food over to keqing’s. she’s got extra golden shrimp balls for keqing. AND AGAIN. GUOBA CUDDLES ❤️❤️❤️

keqing feels so bad for not doing as much work, she’s making herself almost as sick as her partner </3

ningguang comes over one night with beidou while keqing is doing work in bed while her partner is resting and she sees keqing stressed as all hell. she just gives keqing some food and tells her to actually rest. soft!ning and bei being moms god i love them

okay but keqing tucking her partner in with a sweet kiss before retreating to her work in the corner, the lamps turned to the lowest they can possibly be because keqing refuses to leave her beloved but can’t not do work

keqing trying to cook food for her partner that isn’t meant specifically for survival but for taste is so cute. she’s trying to cook golden shrimp balls and soup and stuff and she’s not bad at it! she took a single night of giving her s/o hot tea and some wanmin soup before she learned the whole cookbook so she can be the one to cook for them <3

venti

he brings his partner wine u cannot tell me otherwise

he goes to diluc’s. not the tavern but straight up dawn winery and asks diluc if he can get a bottle of wine for his s/o and please please please he’ll go fight some of those slimes for you, please? with the big 🥺 and staying outside diluc’s window to beg bye

diluc just gives him the wine with a glare but won’t make venti do the commission <3 venti legit says “thank barbatos” and gives diluc an ~ehe~ before he gets ready to glide away. he turns around and asks diluc if he’s sure he can’t do the comm but diluc just glares at him all broody~

diluc comes by to check on venti’s partner too bc where does venti live- venti is just camping out at his partner’s place for now and feeding them and giving them wine and diluc just kinda goes a little pink but glares while he says “get well soon” and leaves a windwheel aster from near the winery

venti makes soup and many vegetable/fruity foods because “they’re good for you! have some wine with that ehe”

jean comes by at some point with barbara to check on venti and co. they’ve got other foods and some hydro healing for venti’s partner <3

ohm comes over to see his friend and brings him some medicines, food and wine. he gets to witness the anemo god get all soft and squooshy for his s/o it’s so sweet

he uses anemo to entertain his partner with some gentle breezes playing through leaves <3 but he also plays his lyre for them and gives them smooches in between and during songs because he’s a god ofc he isn’t gonna get sick, pay the bard with kisses. and where’s his gratuity :( 😗

he doesn’t read to his s/o but he does tell them stories with a musical accompaniment. sometimes his partner will fall asleep so he just smiles so softly and tucks them in and continues playing his lyre at the window while they sleep <3

but also brushing his partner’s hair back and giving them a kiss on the forehead please i love my beloved kinnie

n e ways venti forehead smooches and playing the lyre for his s/o <3 no cough meds ehe, just dandelion wine and whatever ohm gave him (that was, in fact, the cough medicine)

scaramouche

bro this dude looks like he CANNOT be assed but he really cares <3<3

his work schedule doesn’t change but he’s going to his s/o’s home super often with soup and food and medicine and extra blankets

even to his partner, scara looks broody but he always looks like that LOL

tartaglia finds out where scara is going and he brings food and toys and stuff too <3 scara later has to read one of the kids books tartaglia brought and he refuses to voices but it’s very sweet anyway

scara probably asks sandrone if his doctor brother can get him some good cold medicine but would never admit that he asked ohm for help LOL. ohm shows up anyway and finds out <3

can and will cook soup but that’s all you’re getting from him. the takeout he brought is most definitely not something he made, no sir’am he would never do something as soft as cook for them. soup doesn’t count, it’s oboiling water with some added flavor, shut up tartagalicious he’s not soft

will give his partner kisses only after he thinks they’re asleep. refuses to give them any affection besides a headpat or two and maybe one hug when he shows real concern. his partner isn’t quite yet asleep one time and then feigns sleeping when they hear scara’s whispered “i love you” and he presses a kiss to their forehead 🥺❤️

he takes off his hat inside the house but will go around with a blanket around his shoulders to mock his partner smh. the blanket is on his head like a hood and he fake sniffles with an almost derisive laugh but he gives his partner a real smile at the end <3

9/10 times will never admit that he’s soft unless it’s a Very Serious Moment but he’s a squishy dood for his s/o and his s/o only

will not read or sing to his partner but he’ll sorta cuddle if they ask very nicely and many times. it’s just kind of him sitting next to them and they kind of have to muzzle before he’ll move his arm for his own comfort LMAO

will bring his partner gifts and food, a few flowers but he’ll just claim he’s delivering it from someone else with a look of fake disgust </3 maybe like two of those are actually from other ppl and not him

when his partner is actually feeling really sick, he won’t be a big smol meanie and he actually looks so concerned~ his partner means a lot to him and he doesn’t want them to feel sick or in pain so he’ll cuddle them unprompted and rub their back, run his hand thru their hair, soft forehead and temple kisses and “i’m here, baby” and “i love you” and falling asleep with his partner tucked under his chin <3 he’s actually so sweet bye 😭

thoma

thoma feels so bad when his partner is sick. it isn’t even his fault but he feels so bad because he wants to protect them, even from tiny little germs 😭 i’m sorry u can’t be my immune system thoma it’s FINE

he asks to take off work and ayaka just kinda sighs but smiles and waves a hand to dismiss him bc yes ofc you can, simp

ayato just laughs when he sees this LMAO BYE

thoma’s partner stays at his home, in his bed or a guest room (idk if he has his own place or stays w the kamisatos as their literal live-in maid but anyway)

his partner gets his care, any doctors or caretakers around ritou, the medic from the crux, the kamisato family doctor- this man is using some of his favors for medicine and then cuddling his s/o, ugh i want to date him sm

both kamisatos come by with some food for thoma and co but poor ayato can’t even keep his grin contained, poor thoma is conditioned to be nervous ab what ayato feeds him LOL

he’s cooking for his partner, legit gives them a list of options and an “anything you want, my love?”

cuddles his s/o even tho they might protest but it takes like 0.2 seconds to stop protesting bc that man is comfy

tells his partner stories about what it was like back home in mondstadt and his journey to inazuma and why he’s there as well as his stories about all the different kinds of people he’s met

taroumaru coming w kozue to the kamisato estate to get some hot tea to thoma 🥺 and the cuddles and nuzzles from this great doggo for thoma before he turns to his partner too 😭 straight up jumps in the bed and licks their faces a little before nuzzling in for a hug

n e way thoma gives a lot of hugs and kisses and cuddles and i think he’s hella touchy-feely and misses home and treasures his partner even more because of it

my beautiful red shield ❤️

[seokth]

summer of our youth

— oneshot ; 6.9k words —

pairing | min yoongi x female reader

summary | a summer of found friendships and lost innocence, of basketball hoops and friendship bracelets, of shy beginnings and bittersweet endings. this is the story of a girl who grows up too young and a boy who grows up too early.

warnings | mentions of divorce, sad childhood, oc’s parents fight and shout a lot, yoongi’s parents also have problems, childhood friends au, summer au, i just wanna hug them both :< idk if i forgot any more tags so just keep in mind that this fic is just so sad and somber, i’m so sorry, proceed only with caution

note | HAPPY YOONGI DAY!!! this work used to be for another fandom but i rewrote and revamped it to feature yoongi just in time for his birthday! hope u guys enjoy this :”)

general masterlist

“Do you mean it?”

You look up at your friend who is sporting uncharacteristically wide eyes. Did he just talk to you? You can’t believe it. And he has a nice voice, too, in a non-weird way. It definitely matches how he looks and right now, he looks—

“Do you really think I’m good at it? At basketball?”

—vulnerable?

You’re seven years old when you first meet Min Yoongi.

It’s a cloudy day at the beginning of summer. Biting your lip, you sneak a peek from behind your mother’s legs to stare curiously at the intimidating family she’s talking to. Your father is out at work and couldn’t come with you to meet this family — something your mother promptly chewed him out for — so you only have one pair of legs to hide behind while you watch them smile down at you.

Your new next door neighbors. The Min family, as she said to you this morning.

Despite the massiveness of their immaculately clean household, they’re a rather small family. The grandmother looks just as any other elderly would but with an air of importance around her. The mother looks nice but stern and you make a mental note not to get on her bad side. The father, on the other hand, looks the most welcoming.

He introduces himself. Your seven year old mind already forgets the mother’s and the grandmother’s names, but you distinctly remember the father’s because of how he doesn’t have the same surname.

Why isn’t he a Min?

“Hey, there,” he kneels down to your level and gives you a warm smile. You bite back the temptation to ask him about it. “What’s your name?”

You stare at him, blinking a couple of times but still not giving up your spot from behind your mother. You whisper your name almost too quietly after an encouraging look from your mother.

“That’s a pretty name,” his eyes crinkle around the corners as his smile deepens. “Don’t be a stranger here, okay? You’re welcome to visit anytime you like.”

“Really?”

This man seems nice. His voice, soft and gentle. He doesn’t seem like the type to yell at his wife.

“Of course. Be our guest! After all, our Yoongi could use a playmate.”

Yoongi?

You gulp as the father gets up and gestures at a young boy to come closer. The child seems intimidating but he also seems nice enough. Unexcited, perhaps, but nice nonetheless.

“This is our son, Yoongi,” he claps a hand on his son’s shoulder and beams at you. “You’re of the same age. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble being friends.”

The so-called Yoongi nods at you politely, to which you wordlessly nod in return. You hope that the two of you would really have no trouble becoming friends. Because you definitely need some friends.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality,” your mother beams at the family, putting an arm around your shoulders before bending down to smile at Yoongi. “And I hope you’ll take care of my Y/N, too, Yoongi. We just moved here yesterday and she hasn’t had a chance to meet new friends yet.”

Again, the boy nods wordlessly. You’re beginning to wonder if your new friend will ever speak at all.

(He will, eventually.)

/

Contrary to what you hoped for, Yoongi becomes the only friend you make after that day. But oddly enough, you aren’t too bummed about it. In fact, you eventually grow to love the quiet company he provides.

Before you moved next door to the Min household, you never really talked a lot back home. You talked to a couple of friends, sure, but in your own house, you always found yourself silent.

(Maybe because your parents had a lot more to say. Or more accurately, a lot to shout.)

And now that you have a pair of listening ears in the form of the ever apathetic Yoongi, you find yourself making up for all the lost opportunities.

“I haven’t really done much exploring yet but I did see a small park on the way here. Do you wanna play there someday?”

He shrugs then nods his head.

“Great,” you beam at him before carrying on with your one-sided chatter. “There was this small park back home, too. I used to play there a lot. Sometimes I’d play by the nearby beach, too. There were lots of crabs there. Are you scared of crabs?”

He shakes his head, rubbing the basketball he’s holding as he sits beside you on their family’s front porch.

“Good! Because crabs are the friendliest creatures ever! There’s this one kid back home who looks for crabs all the time but he immediately lets them go because he feels sorry for them. He was so cool and smart. I wonder how he’s doing…”

He hums, showing you he’s listening.

“What about you? What do you do for fun? No, wait! Let me guess,” you put a finger to your chin and grin teasingly, “is it basketball, perhaps?”

He’s quiet for a moment, almost as if the very question makes him shy. But he then smiles a moment later, a bright smile, so unlike the previous lack of emotion he’s shown you since you met. Nodding his head, he rubs his neck sheepishly.

“Cool. Are you any good? I bet you are. You know, I hung out with this kid back home who plays basketball, too. He calls himself a… center? Is that right? Yeah, I think that’s it. Anyways, he used to hurt his fingers a lot and…”

Yoongi is surprisingly comfortable to talk to. Though quiet and stoic, he never gives the impression that he’s bored or that he isn’t listening. And as you drone on and on a bit about basketball and a lot about your life back home — essentially letting him know more about you than you do with him — you hope that someday, he’ll grow to be comfortable with you, too.

(He will, gradually.)

/

Yoongi finally speaks to you exactly one week after you met.

You spent all of the first week practically living in their house, with your dad constantly out for work and your mom practically attaching herself to her phone to talk to someone in hushed tones. You don’t mind. The Mins are very welcoming, and despite your initial reservations about Yoongi’s mother and grandmother, they both turn out to have taken a liking to you.

They’re both still strict, though. Just like you initially thought.

“Do they do that a lot? Talk secretly, I mean,” you ask Yoongi when the two of you are told to “play outside while the grown ups talk about adult things” and are given some crayons and sheets of paper to entertain yourselves with.

He shrugs. Then avoids your eyes. Maybe this is a touchy subject?

“Here, take my hand,” you instruct him, a sudden idea forming in your brain. You don’t even have the headspace to be surprised that Yoongi actually does grab your hand, your mind too giddy as you drag him to the child-sized basketball ring in their backyard. “Watch this,” you tell him as you let go of his hand and grab the basketball he always holds in his hands.

You don’t even know the first thing about shooting a basketball. You’re gonna make a fool of yourself, for sure, but you find yourself not caring. Yoongi seems sad today so you’re determined to cheer him up with some good ol’ basketball.

Raising your hands in a pitiful shooting pose, you throw the basketball towards the hoop, watching in horror as the ball lands so far from your intended target. You’re frozen for a moment, brain trying to comprehend how something as simple as throwing a ball to a ring can be so hard.

In the midst of your embarrassment, you don’t even expect Yoongi to react. After all, this is Min Yoongi, and what might get a reaction out of any other kid probably wouldn’t have the same effect on him. The most you’ll get out of him would probably be a couple of blinks.

And he does blink. Once, twice, then thrice. And then he completely catches you off guard when he cracks a smile, releases a small chuckle, and grabs the ball from where it’s rolled near your feet and shoots it perfectly in the center of the ring.

What—

He then moves quickly before the ball can land, grabbing it then dribbling it twice, before jumping and shooting the ball perfectly again but this time in mid-air.

—was that?!

“Yoongi?” you whisper, mouth agape. “You really love basketball, do you?”

He unexpectedly stills, fingers twitching, almost as if someone had said those exact same words to him before but had meant it in a different way. He looks at you briefly before nodding stiffly and walking over to where the ball landed.

“Wow, you’re so good!” You gasp at him, awestruck. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”

He turns to stare at you with a confused (and somewhat hopeful) expression. You don’t pay the look on his face any mind, too busy being amazed at his unique skills. You take the basketball from him and try to mimic his moves earlier. Yoongi, on the other hand, stares at you for a good few minutes, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times. It’s only when you’re pitifully attempting to shoot the ball again that you hear a quiet voice.

“Do you mean it?”

You look up at your friend who is sporting uncharacteristically wide eyes. Did he just talk to you? You can’t believe it. And he has a nice voice, too, in a non-weird way. It definitely matches how he looks and right now, he looks—

“Do you really think I’m good at it? At basketball?”

—vulnerable?

You try (and fail) to be subtle in studying his expression but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s probably more interested in your answer, and whatever that may be is something he does care about.

“Are you kidding? Of course you are! What you did earlier? I can’t even… That was just… Wow!”

You answer truthfully, not the least bit shy. Because you’re telling the truth and with how sad he seemed earlier, Yoongi definitely needs to know how good you think he is.

“My mother wants me to stop playing basketball. Says she wants me to be a doctor,” he mumbles.

Oh. So that’s why he asked.

“That sucks.” Honestly, you don’t know what to say. This is his mother you’re talking about, and though you’re on good terms with her, you won’t dare contradict her in her own household. Never mind the fact that she can’t hear you right now.

“My dad is trying to convince them not to force me,” he continues, and it’s the most he talks with you ever since you met. “Says I have talent in basketball. In music, too. He says my heart’s not in science and medicine.”

“I think your dad’s right,” you whisper, still wary that his mom might hear you from somewhere in their massive household. “Science is cool and all but maybe you’re not meant to be a doctor. Maybe you’re meant to be a great… What was it again? A… shooting guard? Yeah! You could be the greatest shooting guard in the world! Who knows?”

To be completely honest, you neither understand nor fully believe half the things you’re saying. And while you’re too busy mentally applauding yourself for remembering the term shooting guard, Yoongi stares at you with an expression you can’t describe.

(Appreciation.)

After a few beats, the young boy finally looks away from you and fetches the abandoned basketball before uttering a few words.

“That’s what my dad said, too.”

/

True to his word, Yoongi eventually takes you to the small neighborhood park the very next week.

With a wordless promise to your reluctant mother that he’ll keep an eye on you the entire time, your cat-like friend walks hand in hand with you all the way to the park, his other hand carrying the lunch boxes his grandmother packed for the two of you.

“Yoongi, that’s too high!”

“You told me to push you higher,” he mumbles but humors you, nonetheless, and tones his pushing down a notch.

“Now, it’s too low…”

“You’re confusing me,” he simply responds, letting go of the swing he’s pushing you on, and moving over to the clear grassy area, essentially leaving you to swing yourself to your own heights.

You pout at him but eventually decide that you’re done tormenting him for the day. With your feet heavy on the ground and your grip tight on the swing, you take a couple steps back before pushing yourself off. To your utter surprise, you swing higher than before — even higher than when Yoongi pushed you — and your dumbfounded mind vaguely registers that you’re flying.

Like actually flying.

As in your-butt-is-no-longer-on-the-swing flying.

You squeal. Whether in delight or in fright, who knows? You don’t even know when your grip on the swing loosened. All you know is this fleeting flying moment in the sky where you feel weightless, where you feel free.

Free…

Your anti-gravity experience only lasts a few seconds before you finally land flat on your butt on the exact patch of grass that Yoongi is on. Rubbing your sore bum, you turn to him, jaw dropping in disbelief.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, concerned.

“Yeah.” You blink, before… “That was amazing, I wanna go again!”

He isn’t the least bit surprised. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says almost immediately.

You giggle, having expected that exact same reaction from him. Standing up, you dust yourself off and help him up, too.

“Come on, Yoongi,” you grab his hand and try to pull him back to the swings but he proves to be too strong for a seven year old. “Let’s go again. It’s fun and—”

“No. Basketball is fun. Flying off a swing isn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, urgh—” You try to pull him with all your might but he simply stands in place, his feet firmly planted on the ground. “You just won’t budge, huh?’

After a couple more minutes of you struggling and Yoongi just staring at you without any hint of amusement, you finally give up, straightening up in front of him and wiping some hard-earned sweat off your face. “Alright, fine, you win. Let’s just play with your stupid basketball, then.”

“Basketball isn’t stupid.”

“Whatever.”

As it turns out, he’s right. Basketball is surprisingly fun but you’ll never admit that to him. Though after a few passing drills and a bruised finger, you’re getting hungry so he lays out the blanket his mother packed for the two of you and opens up your lunch boxes.

“Say, Yoongi,” you mumble a while later after swallowing a spoonful of kimchi. “Can I ask you a question?”

You eye the mix of characters written on the tag of his lunch box. In bold and bright colors, the name Min is proudly stamped, and your mind drifts back to a little detail you noticed when the two of you first met.

“Your dad…” You continue when he nods in response. “Why don't you have the same name?”

“Min is my mother’s surname,” he answers, calmly. “I adopted it when my parents divorced.”

“Divorced?”

Why does it feel like you heard that word before?

“It means my parents are no longer married. I live with my mother here in Daegu and after the summer, my father’s going back to Seoul where he lives…”

Oh.

“Oh,” you say, dumbly. “That’s… I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago when I was much younger.”

“Did you…” You mumble, trailing off for a moment. “Do you still remember it? I mean, uh… Did you see it coming?”

He nods. “They used to fight a lot before it happened. My grandmother, too.”

Oh.

(“...don’t know what you’ve been doing in your spare time! I work all day and this is what I come home to…”

“...how dare you?! I’m doing my best right here, and I ask for this one small favor from you and you blow the fuck up…”

“...what you’ve been teaching our daughter! You open that stupid mouth and feed her all those bullshit…”

“...I’ve had enough! I’ve had enough! I’m getting a divorce! We’re getting out of here, you selfish asshole!”)

“Oh,” you mumble, nodding your head dumbly, a strange sensation washing over you. Your stomach churns a bit as you push away your half-eaten lunch, your appetite long gone. Fiddling with your fingers, your next words are no more than the faintest of whispers. “I know the feeling…”

If Yoongi hears or notices anything, he doesn’t let on.

/

“Ow! Yoongi!”

Min Yoongi, aged seven, your new best friend of a few weeks and certified basketball addict, says nothing as he carries on fixing your hair into braids, ignoring your occasional fidgeting and cries of pain.

“Done,” he declares after a few more minutes of you squirming in discomfort and him working in stoic silence.

You scramble over to the park’s nearby pond, looking at your reflection from the surface of the water. You don’t know how to react. Your hair is parted messily in crooked lines, some of the strands even sticking out from the braids, and most of all… this isn’t half bad! Yoongi did a surprisingly good job!

“Yoongi, this looks—”

“Ugly, I know,” he blinks, putting a finger on his chin in thought. “Sorry, let me try again.”

“Hey, don’t call my braids ugly!” You pout, patting the mismatched clumps of hair on your head. “I look good, if I may say so myself.”

“You look like a bird’s nest.”

So blunt!

“I look like a cute bird’s nest,” you mumbles. “Where did you even learn how to braid, anyway?”

He blinks, a faint tinge of red dusting his cheeks that betrays the stoic front he puts on. “Friendship bracelets.”

“Huh?”

“My grandmother and I make them every week. And the patterns are similar to braiding hair,” he says, reaching inside his pocket to take out a brightly-colored braided bracelet before holding it out to you. “This is for you.”

You stare at it, curious. He stares at you, expectant.

“Here. Friendship bracelets. I have one, too.”

You don’t respond. One second. Two seconds. Then three seconds.

“It’s supposed to be a symbol of friendship,” he continues, unfazed by your silence. “I thought I’d make one for you.”

Your bottom lip quivers.

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” Yoongi nods at you as if to assure you. “But I’d like you to take it. As a thank you for being my friend.”

You blink once. You blink twice. Your eyes glisten.

“Are you crying?”

“Yoongi!” You scramble over to him, knocking him over as you wrap your arms affectionately around him, your braids becoming even more messy with the hasty movements. “You made this for me?”

“Well, I made one for Taehyung from the house across the street, too, but—

“Oh, Yoongi! You’re the bestest friend ever! The absolute bestest!”

“Bestest is not a word…”

“Oh, shush, will you?” You don’t let go of your hold on him, squeezing him tightly with as much strength as your seven year old self can muster but he doesn’t appear to be fazed. “Shut up and take my appreciation!”

Yoongi says nothing as you sigh happily against him. Bringing his hands to the small of your back, he awkwardly hugs you back, both of you entering into a silent (albeit, one-sided) competition of not letting go until both of you have to return home.

/

You don’t usually wish for a bigger home.

You spend most of your time outdoors, anyway, so what good will a few more hectares of your home do if you aren’t there much to enjoy it? Your old house before your family moved was a small two-floor structure but you spent most of your day either in school or at your favorite park so that wasn’t an issue. Your current house right next to the Mins is a modest one-floor apartment but you’re practically living next door at Yoongi’s everyday so what’s there to complain about?

Now, though, you desperately wish for a bigger home. Just a couple more square feet you could hide yourself in so you won’t have to hear all the hateful words just outside your bedroom door.

“...don’t care what your fucking lawyer says, you’re not taking my daughter with you…”

“...you expect me to leave her with you after everything you’ve done?!”

You toss and turn, laying on your side on your small bed, and squeeze your eyes shut.

“...don’t you go blaming this all on me, I’ve done nothing but provide for our family…”

“...don’t you go acting all high and mighty, now, you fucking bastard…”

No good. You turn to your other side, eyes still squeezed shut, and sandwich your head between your pillows.

“Shut up, shut up! Fine, then! Go get your fucking divorce, but don’t come crawling back when…”

“I hate you, I hate you! I wish I never married you! I wish I never met you! I wish I never…”

Still no good.

Without another word, you sit up, take out your slippers and climb out of your first-floor window, your movements almost robotic. Luckily this house only has a single floor. Otherwise, you never would’ve managed to sneak out silently, cross the small street just as quietly, climb in through another window not so gracefully, and finally meet eyes with very familiar brown ones.

“It’s late.”

“I know,” you say with quivering lips but you manage to hold your composure, looking around for something to distract you. “Y-You don’t sleep with a blanket?”

“It gets too hot in the summer.”

“Oh, right,” you bark out a dry laugh. You mull over your words for a moment, before finally… “Can I stay here for a bit?”

Wordlessly, Yoongi scoots over and makes room for you. Swallowing a couple of times, you move towards his bed, dragging out each step one at a time, before finally settling down on the side of the mattress closest to the window. The two of you stay like that for a while, just staring up at his bedroom ceiling, hearing nothing yet everything at the same time.

He turns to face you after a few cricket chirps, a silent question on his face. You sigh.

“I think my parents are gonna be divorced soon, too, Yoongi.”

He isn’t surprised. He doesn’t know much about your parents in contrast to how much you’re familiar with him and his family, but he definitely heard all those late nights filled with angry screaming coming from your house in the few short weeks since your family arrived.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just…” You take a deep breath, your eyes tearing up a bit. “Can I sleep here for the night?”

Your eyes remain trained on the ceiling. Yoongi’s room is rather plain and… stiff, for a lack of better term. You make a mental note to convince him into putting up luminous star-shaped stickers on his ceiling sometime. You vaguely remember seeing a colorful store a few streets over, maybe they sell some—

Huh?

“What’s this?” You stare, confused, at the object in Yoongi’s hands which he starts to drape over you, effectively interrupting you from your mindless thoughts.

A… blanket?

“A blanket,” he says simply before completely draping it over you and tucking you in.

“I can see that. Why are you…?”

“I don’t want you to get cold.”

“But it’s summer...”

He shrugs. “Besides…” he trails off, “this is my favorite blanket. I used to sleep with it a lot when my dad first moved away.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you utter, dumbfounded but touched. “Th-Thanks, Yoongi.”

“No problem,” he nods at you, leaning over to turn his bedside lamp off before turning to face you in the stark darkness. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Yoongi.”

/

Sometimes, you have fleeting thoughts about how Yoongi always seems to be so mature and handles his parent’s… situation… so well. But sometimes, those thoughts are immediately squashed by rare moments of vulnerability in which his usually stoic face is decorated with more telling expressions.

Today is one of those moments.

“Yoongi,” you say gently so as not to frighten him. “Why are you in your closet?”

As if the sight of him hugging his knees in his bedroom closet isn’t unusual enough, the fact that he’s doing so in broad daylight at the same time you two usually played together just adds to the weirdness of it all.

(When you hide in your own closet, you always do it at night.)

“I don’t want to go outside today,” he says in a clipped tone, turning his head away from you.

“We don’t have to. We can just play here in your room.”

He doesn’t respond, turning his head even further away from you as if sending a non-negotiable message.

Does he want you to leave?

You stand still for a moment, your hand still gripping the closet door from when you wrenched it open a few moments earlier, and observe how Yoongi doesn’t budge.

As if you’d leave him like this.

With firm resolve, you open the closet door even further and scramble inside. Unfortunately for your cat-like friend, your seven-year-old brain still hasn’t learned how to read the room and whatever hopes he has about being left to wallow alone is thrown out the window when you squeeze yourself in the closet with him.

He doesn’t say anything, so you take that as a sign that he isn’t entirely too opposed to your intrusion. Hugging your knees to your chest in the same fashion, you wait a few breaths before finally getting to the bottom of things.

“What happened?”

A moment of silence. Before…

“My dad,” he trails off for a bit. “He was supposed to leave by the end of the summer.”

But summer isn’t even halfway through yet.

“But?” You coax him gently.

“But it’s cut short,” he breathes out. “He’s leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Oh.

“Did… Did he say why? Did they say anything?”

“I don’t care about the reasons.” He says, finally looking at you in the cramped space of his closet. “I just want him to stay longer.”

You don’t know what to say. This is probably the most Yoongi has opened up to you in one sitting, and you’re unsure if he even wants you to say anything.

Does he want you to comfort him? Does he want you to tell him it’s gonna be okay? Does he want you to cheer him up? To play basketball with him? To talk to his dad yourself to convince him not to leave just yet?

Because you would. For Yoongi, you would do anything.

“I hate this.” The statement sounds so unfitting with his deep, monotone voice. “I hate that he doesn’t live here anymore. I hate that they’re separated. I hate that they’re divorced.”

You know all too well how he’s feeling. Your parents may not be separated yet, but the stark similarity of it all makes your eyes water. And hearing him say that to you — to you, a friend he just met at the beginning of this very summer — speaks volumes about how affected he is by all of this. 

And even though you still don’t know what to say, you have a rough idea on what you can do. Shuffling around in his incredibly tiny closet, you shift closer to him as much as the space will let you and wrap your arms tightly around him.

Yoongi is the one who’s folding himself in the closet. He’s the one who’s showing a more vulnerable side of him. He’s the one who needs comfort.

So why are you the one who’s crying?

“D-Don’t worry, Y-Yoongi,” you mumble into his neck, a few tears rolling down your face as you faintly register his arms hugging you back. “I g-got you. I’m here. You got m-me. And I got you…”

It’s the first time he ever sees you cry. While he notices that you’re much more silent and sad at times compared to the other kids at his school, and even though he already knows why you’re more somber than most, he never saw you lose composure before. Until now.

Seeing you cry is something he never wants to witness again. And though he knows himself to be a doer rather than a talker, he still racks his brain for something, anything, to say to you.

When you first unintentionally hinted at your own family’s situation that day at the park, he wanted to distract you. But he didn’t.

When you climbed in his window that one night when your parents' voices practically woke up the whole neighborhood, he wanted to comfort you. But he never brought it up.

But now that you’re breaking down in his arms, tear tracks faintly illuminated by the dim yellow closet light, just as he himself is having a tearless breakdown of his own, he wants to take you far away. He wants to help you and ask you to run away with him, far away from all the madness that the grownups in your lives continue to cause.

And so he does.

/

“Pack everything you can grab. Don’t forget to wear a sweater. It’s cold out.”

“But I don’t have a sweater,” you say to an oddly calm Yoongi as the two of you are talking quietly in your bedroom later that same day. Conveniently enough, your parents are out of the house while you and your most trusted friend are busy packing and planning your escape.

Immediately, he shrugs off the sweater he’s wearing and drapes it around you. “Here, take mine.”

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you beam at him before moving over to your dolls, choosing three of the most special ones to put in your small backpack and giving the rest to Yoongi who’s already opening up his own stuffed-to-the-brim bag. Wordlessly, he stuffs them inside and you have to bite your tongue to keep from asking how he somehow manages to fit everything inside. Instead, you ask him something else along the lines of, “where are we going?”

“Far away,” he says, taking the initiative to grab a handful of clothes from your closet and handing them to you to speed up the packing process. Which is good thinking since the two of you already wasted a lot of time when you were packing his things in his room earlier. “To some other province far away. Gwangju, maybe?”

You have no idea where that is but the thought of going there with Yoongi doesn’t sound too bad.

“That sounds nice. Let’s move there forever, Yoongi.”

Zipping up the bag and slinging it on his shoulder, he looks at you with the exact same expression he wore when you told him his basketball trick is the coolest thing in the world. Grabbing your hand, he gives it a gentle squeeze before dragging you out the door and out of the house.

This moment, in your seven-year-old mind, feels like the start of a wonderful journey. And for once in your young life, it feels like things are finally going your way. And they do.

For a good forty-something minutes.

Because just as you and Yoongi walk a good distance away from the general area and round the corner of the neighborhood park, the night’s heavy clouds start pouring unexpectedly. Even Yoongi, ever the prepared and logical boy scout, wasn’t able to take the weather into account.

“Here,” he gestures at a tree near your favorite swing set which looks to be a good enough makeshift cover. “Let’s wait it out here for a while.”

“We can’t,” you whine, tugging at his hand, his grip on yours never loosening. “They’re gonna find us if we don’t hurry up!”

“They’re not.”

“Yes, they are! We’re not even that far away yet.”

“It will take a while before they’ll think of looking for us here—”

“Cars, Yoongi! They’ve got cars! We don’t.”

“Come on,” he tugs you against him, firmly keeping you under the unstable cover provided by the tree’s leaves. “We’re getting out of here. Soon, I promise.”

“But—”

“Listen to me,” he pulls his hand out of your grip and grabs both of your shoulders, locking eyes with you with an intensity you’ve only seen him wear when basketball is involved. “We’re going somewhere far, far away. Somewhere nice. Somewhere we won’t ever have to hear the word divorce again. We just have to stay here for a while so we don’t get sick, okay? We can’t travel if we’re sick.”

He’s right, but your heart still pounds frantically against your chest at the very real possibility of your parents catching up with the two of you. Sighing, you sit down on the muddy ground and slump against the trunk of the tree, pulling him down so he would sit beside you and you could lean your head against his shoulder.

You feel tired. You haven’t even reached the outskirts of town yet but your body already feels drained.

And finally, around an hour or two later when the rain still shows no signs of stopping and you catch sight of two pairs of flashing headlights by the park’s entrance, you feel his hand find yours in the muddy ground.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Yoongi?” You feel him give your hand a gentle squeeze as the familiar cars stop a little distance away from the two of you, and both your families file out.

He turns to you, his eyes apologetic and yours resigned.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

You don’t know exactly what he’s apologizing for. Is it for insisting you wait for the rain to pass? Is it for planting the whole idea in your head in the first place? Or is it for seemingly breaking his promise? You don’t know. None of those are his fault anyway, and you tell him so just as your parents drag you two away from each other while hysterically crying over your temporary disappearance.

When your parents fasten your seatbelt in the backseat of your car and when Yoongi’s family buckle him in theirs, you take one last good look at him through the car windows and prepare yourself for what is sure to be another big fight between your parents once you arrive home.

The very next day at the crack of dawn when no one else is awake yet, your mother tucks you in the car, your suitcase and hers all packed up in the trunk, and your sour-looking father watches on from the front door of the house you called home for the past weeks of summer. Not looking back at the man she’s supposed to consider her husband, your mother gets in the car herself, locks the doors, and drives you away.

Away from your father, away from your house, and away from Yoongi. She drives further and further away, basically uprooting you from the home you’ve grown to love for the last few weeks without so much as letting you say goodbye to your most treasured friend.

You cry silently in your seat.

/

two decades later

The object in your hands feels warm instead of cold, but the memories it brings with it are a mixture of both.

The brightly colored and notably tiny sweater that once belonged to Yoongi is a sight you have long since forgotten, brought to the surface again only because you’re currently in the middle of deep cleaning your entire house.

Smiling at the piece of clothing, you remember how your parents had been out of the house that night, none the wiser about the plans their then-seven-year-old daughter made with her best friend.

Your parents… You still aren’t on good terms with them, thanks to your depressing youth. And though it’s been a long time since you looked back on your less-than-stellar childhood memories with an open mind, the fact that a certain Min Yoongi appeared in almost all of them made reminiscing a bit more bearable.

“Mama!”

And speaking of youth…

“Hey, baby,” you turn to the approaching figure of your five-year-old son and hug him tight. “What are you doing here, huh? Mama’s still cleaning.”

“Papa said to help you!”

“Is that so?” You tickle his sides and bask in the sound of his cute giggles. “Then why don’t you hold this for me, okay, sweetheart?”

His eyes light up at the prospect of being helpful, and he immediately makes grabby hands towards the sweater you hold out to him.

“What’s this, Mama?”

“That’s a very special sweater, sweetie,” you nuzzle his head, putting your hands over his that are gripping the sweater with wonder. “Mama loves it very much and she doesn’t want it to get dirty while she cleans. You keep it safe for me, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!” He beams at you, his two front teeth missing. “Where d’you get this, Mama?”

You smile, opening your mouth to answer but you’re interrupted by a knock on the other side of the door. Knowing it to be your husband of seven years, you open it, only to be met with a bright, bunny smile, and a tight embrace.

“Jungkook! Can’t breathe.��

Your son giggles happily at his father’s antics.

“Sorry,” your husband chuckles, letting you go but letting his hand linger around you loosely. “I just missed you today.”

You shake your head in amusement. “I’ve been home the whole day.”

“Yeah, but you were too busy cleaning. You didn’t notice me all day so that hardly counts.”

He pouts and you can’t resist the urge to kiss his pout away so you do just that. Meanwhile, your son claps his hand at the loving display between his parents — something you constantly make sure to show him since it’s something you lacked and longed for in your own childhood.

Jungkook laughs. “Come on, buddy.” He picks your son up in his arms. “Why don’t you go change? We’re going out. You, your mom, and I.”

“Where are we going, Papa?”

“We’re gonna watch a basketball game,” he explains excitedly. “There’s this new guy I met at the gym a few weeks ago who’s a big basketball fan, and he gave me tickets to a game tonight.”

“Are you sure those tickets are legit, babe?” you ask him, unsure. “This seems a bit sudden.”

“Don’t worry, honey,” your husband assures you, kissing your forehead. “He’s a basketball player himself but his team’s not playing tonight. Anyway, he and I hit it off so he asked me if I was interested in watching a game with him. I made sure to include you and our son, of course.”

“Alright.” You nod your head, gesturing for him to hand you your son. “Let me just get ready for a bit.”

“Thanks, love. I’ll go start the car. Dress warmly, yeah?”

You murmur your agreement, already halfway out the door and towards your son’s room. Setting him down, you see him fiddling with his fingers, a gesture you’ve come to know as one he makes when he wants something.

“What is it, baby?”

You don’t realize he’s still holding Yoongi’s sweater until he holds it out to you.

“Can I wear this, Mama?”

Your heart warms. Truthfully, there’s nothing more you want — for your son to have something that so deeply symbolizes your youth. It’s too bad the old friendship bracelet Yoongi gave you back then got lost back when you were in high school, but you’re more than ecstatic to have found his old sweater now and be able to bequeath it to your own child.

“Of course you can, baby,” you respond, beaming at him and starting to dress him according to his request. “This is yours now, okay, baby? This is really special to Mama because someone special gave it to her.”

“A friend, Mama?”

“Yeah.” You nod your head, your mind getting lost in the memories. “A very good friend.”

You remember the neighborhood park and the rusty swing set. You remember the child-sized basketball hoop and the lack of star-shaped stickers on the ceiling. You remember fighting, shouting, and hiding in closets. You remember packing your bags and leaving hand-in-hand with a cat-like boy, and you especially remember failing and being driven away from that very same boy.

Yoongi’s escape plan might have been a failure, but for a sweet, brief moment back then, you actually thought you could be free.

And for your then-seven-year-old mind, free meant running away with him. It meant leaving to a far away place without grownups breathing down your necks about future career paths and stupid divorces. It meant going somewhere where both of you could play all day and not have to worry about climbing over windows or hiding in closets.

You were seven years old when you first met Min Yoongi, and you were seven years old when you left him behind. And though decades have passed and your traitorous memory can no longer exactly recall his face, you still have all the love for him, born from a few short weeks of a bittersweet summer. And your beautiful friendship with him, though fleeting, will eventually become a bedtime lullaby for your child, and even later on, for his child.

It warms your heart to know that a few generations down the line, your children and their children will still hopefully know the story of the blunt, cat-like, basketball-obsessed boy who showed you a kind of love that far surpasses infinities and lightyears.

And just like an old tale, that innocent love will be passed on, and on, and on.

[dokifluffs]

Dada’s Home | Kenma, Iwaizumi

Pairings: Kenma X Reader (female), Iwaizumi X Reader (female) 

Genre: softest haikyuu domestic fluff omg 

Author’s Note: get fed BUT also, kenma’s isn’t really him coming home from somewhere unlike the other’s so- 

Dada’s Home | Ushijima, Tsukishima // Dada’s Home | Oikawa, Atsumu 

Warnings! All post time skip! Spoilers to manga end for Iwa! and also they have kids 

Kenma:

Confetti and a bright fanfare sounded into his headset as he yawned as bright light graphics strobed into his eyes 

Kenma let out a deep sigh as he leaned back into his game chair, thankful he figured out the ideal design for Bouncing Ball to sell

He read through the comments, quietly reading out the donations and comments from his viewers for his twenty four hour charity event 

so many told him to sleep with a mix of others with the same typical comments about saying hi to wherever they were from 

“Uh,” he squeezed his eyes shut before rubbing them back open as he reached to the side for his glasses. “Thanks onigiriman45 for the $100 donation, that’s very generous of you. He wrote: ‘It looks like there’s a little someone behind you trying to join your stream, also great games man, been watching you since the beginning, keep it up. I love watching after a long day,” he read 

“Ah, thanks for watching man, really appreciate it,” he smiled. 

“Little someone?” He turned in his seat as he looked back, the back area of his gaming room dark with LEDs strung up, lining the corners of the vast room 

you were fast asleep on the couch bed set in here for the nights you didn’t want to sleep alone in bed but you were cuddled into the blanket which covered your face 

but there his sub was right 

there was a little someone who sat on the bed who sat up with a little drool on her chin as she looked tiredly to her dad 

“Aw, D/N,” he didn’t miss a beat as he slipped off his cat headphones as he shuffled from his seat. “what’re you doing up, kitten?” he lifted her up just the slightest bit above his head as he stretched himself out 

“You need to sleep,” he said ironically as he sat her on his forearm as he made his way back, sure to leave you undisturbed

“Actually wait,” he paused as he stepped out of frame with his daughter in arm, the sound of the door sounding onto the stream 

there was a pause on the stream as a few new viewers joined the stream, asking where he went and whatnot

more donations and subs and gifts being given 

“Alrighty,” Kenma stepped into frame as he sat down, putting his headphones back on 

He scrolled up a bit through the comments, adjusting a strand of hair that had fallen into his face before his chat blew up once again 

“It seems you all noticed that I have a guest joining me,” he smiled as he glanced down to his baby girl cuddled against his chest in her carrier 

“Alright, let’s keep this train going,” he clicked to the next game, preparing the next hour or so for among us games 

The chat adored this new side of the Kodzuken 

his little girl leaned into him as he sat leaned back in his chair, easily playing the game whether he was doing tasks or pretending to be the impostor 

he every now and then looked down, adoring her sleepy little face, cheek pressed against his shirt, her small hands clinging onto him 

“good luck kiss,” he whispered, pecking her a small kiss to her cheek or beanie before he started the next game

Iwaizumi: 

He hauled his luggage through the door in a swift motion as he stepped in, his entire body exhausted and jet lagged yet to his surprise, he found the kitchen lights on while the living room lights were dimmed

He let out a low groan as he stretched, loosening his stiff muscles after a twelve-hour plane ride and then an hour and a half shuttle/ taxi ride home

But this was what he had to do as a trainer for the Japanese olympic team

The house was still and quiet with the lights on, giving him the illusion that you were awake but as he walked quietly over the carpeted floor

And there you two were

The stars of his life

You slept comfortably, fast asleep wearing one of his hoodies, laid on your back

On top of you, your baby girl as she laid on her tummy, cheek pressed on your stomach with your hands resting on top of her lower half

With her little mouth agape, her chubby cheeks squished on your stomach, she looked so precious to iwaizumi, his heart melted seeing her after so long

Her dark hair that matched his own was growing out, still very short but it was getting there

He knelt down beside the couch, resting his chin on his arm, tilting his head to the side to take a closer look at her

She was so small

He reached up with his other hand, nuzzling her plush, rosy cheek with the back of his index finger, the entire room silent

But being this close, he could hear her little breaths as she slept on you, as still as a log

Seeing her sleeping this close, it occurred to him he hadn’t seen her like this ever since she was born

He could remember that night so vividly as it it was only about a couple weeks ago

Yet a few months had already passed

A natural smile pulled on his lips, a rosy blush tinting his cheeks as he leaned even closer, his nose inches away from his

He closed the distance, rubbing his nose to hers, waking her from her sleep

But instead of normal cries from a child, her eyes slowly peeked open, a yawn escaping her as her hands closed around the fabric of the hoodie of his you wore

“Hey, baby,” his voice was low from his own sleepiness, the familiar sound even waking you too

His baby girl’s eyes pulled into thin lines as she smiled, cooing seeing her dad

“Sorry for waking you,” he knelt closer to you, pressing soft kisses to your cheek, mumbling repeatedly how much he missed the two of you into your skin

You brushed your fingers through his hair at the back of his neck, smiling as he pecked repeated small kisses to your lips

But as he did this, there were clear objections

“Don’t worry, dada’s gonna show you some love too,” he scooped his little girl into his hold, supporting her with his arm beneath her, the other resting on her back as he peppered small kisses all over her face, amusing her

“Let’s go up and sleep, hm?’ He glanced back to you as your daughter’s gaze was locked on her father’s, one small hand over her mouth, the other holding onto his shoulder

“Okay,” you let out a deep breath, your voice barely audible as he pulled you up, carrying his daughter securely in his arm

You couldn’t have asked for a better life than this one with Hajime. “Welcome home,” you snaked your hand around his waist as the two of you went up, leaving behind the dark ground level

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04  @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing @plantisnotplant @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan​ @turquoiselace​ @macaronnv​  @oxmaddy​ @mrkoala4prsdnt​ @curiouslilbeast​ @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya @wisepandaslimeland @killuaking @kattykurr @bbymilkbread @tsumtsumland @suunikimchi @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @amandahh626 @nabisonyeo94 @wntrmn @dai-tsukki-desu @peteunderoos @ohyoumakemelive @aka-a-shii @shinhiromi @wompwomphq @lollypop-lam @isentsworld @blue-melody @u-wakatoshii @moondriplets @lovinnoya @yuueisteria @humanitysbiggestsimp @cjphoenix135 @inarizaki-captain @closetfurrytsukishima @chibichab @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kuroosbixh @lavearchives @sweet-sour-devil-ish @daichis-kitty @creepyproxies @itsmarziapei​ @skyh20​ @yehetstudies​ @that-chick212

[ashestospace-fics]

Greedy for you

Characters: Mammon x MaleReader

Warning: E/NSFW

Minors dni or I'll personally call your parents

Tags: TopReader,praising kink, Mammon being a little bratty, dry humping, demonic female and Male genetelia description and penetration

It was frustrating, Mammon felt like he was going to combust at any moment as he watched you with cross arms and a pout. It's been like this for almost a whole week, the rest of his brothers have been sweeping you away and taking you away from him. He couldn't spend five minutes without someone interrupted and he felt like throwing a fit, he wanted your attention! He wanted you to cuddle him and pay attention to only him. After all, he's your first pact, your first man, he clearly more important and comes first than the rest. So why are you spending more time with Levi than him right now?!

He just happens to be looking for you, not finding you in your room already this late at night. He was in the search until he heard your voice downstairs in one of the living rooms. He peeks slowly, spotting you with the 3rd brother setting the t.v, both of you talking about one of Levi's many animes as he let you do the fixing. Head duck down behind the t.v as you turn it on. Mammon almost wanted to pull you down the legs and drag you out when you lifted your shirt to whip the sweat out of your face, causing both demons to blush slightly at the sudden expose skin. What was enough to tic the Greedy demon off was that you wink back at Levi when you notice him blushing. Now he just HAD to intervene.

"OI! human! Get up!" He exclaims as he darted over to you. Grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up to the ground.

"Wow, okay, what is it now Mammon?" You blurt out seeing his frustrated expression.

He slams the door behind you, letting go of your wrist to flop down on your bed as he stretches his whole body over. A huff leaving him as he threw his arms around like a fish out of water frustrated as he felt your eyes on you.

"Hey wait a minute! He's helping me out here for game night" Levi exclaim backed.

"don't care, later Nerd" Mammon practically dragged you out the living room by the shirt. You could only mouth a 'Sorry I'll see you later' to Levi as you got dragged away. The whole way back to your room Mammon refuse to respond to you. Mumbling to himself who knows what, that just kept you, even more, confused at his sudden behavior.

"well are you gonna keep gawking like a fish or you gonna tell me what's up?" You casually responded as you made your way over to him. He stops thrashing around as he looked up at you with a frown.

"It's late and I need ya" he blurts out tugging your arm.

".....you haven't been spending time with me..." He mumbled out, his eyebrow twitch as he sat up pointing at you. "So I demand you to watch a movie with me! Right now on your shitty laptop", you blink a few times as you stare at him, a small sigh leaving your lips as you made your way into the bed as you drag your laptop out of your nightstand. You knew you weren't paying much attention to him this week, so it didn't surprise you he was throwing a fit.

"Alright, alright, no need to be acting like a brat. You should have just told me how you were feeling sooner" you replied, opening the laptop as you sat behind your pile of pillows. He just pouted at you, his cheeks turning light red once you patted your lap. Mammon didn't think twice as he crawls over to you, making a home between your thighs as he brought your blankets up to cover both of you.

A satisfied smile dance on his lips as he snuggled closer to your chest. One of your legs moving over his as you wrap your arms around his waist as you lean back. Soon enough whatever bickering remark he had to try arguing with you faded away at your warmth. A deep sigh left him as he presses his ear against your chest as his eyes focus on the movie. This is just what he wanted, you all of himself wrap around your arms secure and safe. None of his brothers around, no silly business, just the sound of your heart and breathing and the occasional laughter from your deep voice from a funny scene on screen. It was just perfect, that is until his other sense became hyper-aware of other things.

Sure it's been simply a week since you two hang out properly, but it's been way longer since you two slept together. Mammon really couldn't help feeling needy at the sudden thought of you pinning him down, stuffing him full. He could feel his cheeks heat up as he shifted on his spot. Bitting down his lip as he tried taking his attention back to the screen. The feeling of your crotch right against his ass now a bit more noticeable than when you two started the movie.

But hell how could he? Every gentle caress of his side from your large fingers, a simple innocent touch was stirring him up so easily. Mammon couldn't help it, he couldn't help moving his hips up and down so slowly against you. His hand holding into your thigh as he could feel your length against the fabric of your sweat pants. The idea of getting caught now and question only started to fueled in his arousal and threw away any little care he had from just spending quiet time with you. Now his head was aiming for something much more, greedy little devil wanted something much more now.

Your own eyes had already left the screen as soon as Mammon started shifted on top of you. The slow grind of his ass against you now having your complete attention as you pretended not to notice yet. Your free hand reaching over to munch away on some candy you had in a bowl. The other hand that was on his side trail under his shirt and hold into his waist. A shaky breath passes Mammon's lips as he grinded back harder against your half-hardened cock. The low chuckle that left your throat made him look up with flush cheeks. You pop another piece of candy into your lips.

"greedy little boy are you? You want me so bad for yourself today huh?" You laugh even more as he turns around to smack your chest. Embarrassment running all over his face as he straddles your hips as he pouted at you.

"Don't blame me! You have been spending time with those losers instead of me!" He protested. You only smile innocently at his pout as both your hands hold onto his waist.

"I'm sorry, but you know I try my best right? After all, I'm the one cleaning after you dorks" he huff as he rested his forehead against yours. His cheeks getting darker as his eyes looked down.

"I know..., But come on, I'm your man! I want more time with you" you place a hand on his cheek, making him look back up at you with a more flustered expression at your tendered one.

"I know I know, so greedy for me, I promise I'll make more time for you" you mumble out between kissing his heated cheeks.

"Why don't I make it up to you? Hm? Give my needy boy a little reward and a treat?" You added as he trail kisses his neck. A whine leaving Mammon as you grinded up against him. He eagerly grinded back as he holds on to your shoulders.

"T-that doesn't s-sound..so bad-oh!" He jolted at the feeling of your tight dig down into his skin, making him release a sweet whimper as you licked the spot you bite down on. Lips sucking on the tender flesh and letting it go with a pop.

"yeah? You think you can hump against me and cum just by that?" You asked as you pulled away. A smirk danced on your face as he grinded more desperately at your suggestion.

"w-wha-no! P-please, don't tease me like that, I want you to touch me" he protested, making sure to grind hard down against your erection. Feeling the wet spot already forming on his crotch as he panted heavily. The friction was already too good for the greedy demon, letting his own body take control even if he wanted to go further. His eyes flutter close as your hands rip him of his jacket and shirt, a shaky breath leaving Mammon as your thumb rub circles in his perk nipples before trailing down.

"look at that, all wet and messy already? Such a needy boy Mammon" you chuckled at the whine he let escape. His hips jerked up as the rough pad of your finger rubbed against the slit of cunt.

" M-Mmh shut u-up, I can-cant help it" he whine loudly when you push him to lay on his back. Eyes almost glossy as he lifted his hips for you. Ripping him from his pants easily, his erection stood tall along with the whole damp that trail up to the tip of his cock and down to his silky cunt that was still cover by his boxers. Mammon couldn't help but to look away bashfully, a part of him always embarrass with the hungry expression you always gave him, but also with how vulnerable and small you always made him feel in these moments.

"p-please...please MC..." He begged quietly, hissing as your hand trail up to pump his length. You trail down to kiss his cheek softly before nipping at the heated skin.

"really? Cause you don't seem that far from cumming with how hard you're humping my cock"

"Okay, okay Baby, be good for me now and I'll give you everything you want.." you chuckled again. Your eyes locking with Mammon as you strip from your clothes, the sigh sending another wave of heat to Mammon's core as his dick twitch at the sight. Once pull your sweat pants down and expose your cock it was enough for him to let out a whimper at the sight. It was so hard and twitching that he could feel the heat radiating from beneath you, causing his hips to grind up into nothing.

"shh, shh I know baby boy" you cooed as you rip him from his boxers. Now it was your turn to feel light-headed at the sight. Even after so many times you always felt taken back at the big difference in demon anatomy, or in this case genitalia. It wasn't that big or too thick but the shape sure was interesting, small curving bumps like a horn. The color bright yellow and the tip almost turning white. While the slit around it was dripping into a darker shade of yellow mustard as his cunt clench around nothing, a too-familiar little bundle of nerves on top that also begged for your attention.

It took almost all of you to rip your eyes away as Mammon started squirming under your gaze. He was getting uncomfortably wetter by your harsh gaze. It was all too tempting for you to just dive down and take him in your mouth but knowing how needy he was now it was no time for teasing or foreplay. Your hands gently rubbed his knees and thighs as you align yourself against his entrance. Rubbing yourself against his folds earning the sweetest moan of your name as he hooked his legs around your waist.

Pushing yourself in slowly had both of you groaning loudly at the wonderful stretch, Mammon could feel each pulsating vein of your cock dragging against his spongy walls as he bottoms you out completely. Both of you panting heavily against each other before you lean down to capture his lips into a gentle kiss. Mammon's hands making their way around your neck as you sucked on his lips and letting them go with a pop. Slowly trying to calm down his breathing as you let him get comfortable. You brought your hips back before thrusting back in hard. Making the demon harsh his back as he let out a scream of pleasure, your hips grinding against him as you felt your eyes almost rolled back with how hard he was clenching down on you.

"m-me too baby, touch yourself no-now before I cum into your little cunt" you pulled back any self of control to not come at the dumb fucked look he had in his face as his hand shakily reach down to pump his length desperately. Mouth agape and drool passing his lips as he watches where both your bodies are connected. It was he needed to finally jump over the edge and cum all over his stomach and chest as you kept jackhammering into him. One of your hands reaching under his knee to hold it up as you gave one last thrust and painted his walls white. The demon let out a dragged-out whine as his body twitches at the feeling of being filled up. His body finally giving out and falling limp as he panted for air. You follow along and panted heavily, pulling out of him slowly to look at the mess you both did of your poor Bed.

"s-so close, right there! O-oh fuck I'm so close-" Mammon's eyes crossed as his head fell back.

You let out a low groan at the pulsating feeling of his walls trying desperately to hold you in place as his voice started to become horse with how much he was screaming now. Hitting the bundle of nerves inside of him that has his toes curling.

"hmm, good boy" you breathe out patting his twitching thighs as your other hand rubbed the tears that form in his eyes.

"h-hm fuck, such a good boy taking my cock so well" you growled out, starting a heavy pace. Both your hands resting beside his head as you let your weight fall into him with each hard thrust. It didn't take long before Mammon was moaning his head off as you turn his brain into goo. Each drag of his walls against your cock sending sweet shocking electricity all over his body. Chanting your name almost like a prayer as he holds on to you for dear life. His cunt milking you off every time you pulled back to slam into him, your sheets already soaked with how much he was leaking.

You ran a hand across your sweaty forehead as you threw the blankets to the side as you stood up and grab a few water bottles. Opening it up for Mammon to take. Brushing off the sweaty hair of his face as he sighs at the gentle touch.

"does my greedy demon want to take a shower with me?" You gently asked as he drank down the whole bottle in one go. A small smile on his face as he looked up at you.

"you know the answer to that"

[chilligyu]

info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

[spikesbimbo]

Pretty Please

Req: may i offer the concept of - spike and his babies first time, when he took her v1rginity 🥺 sorta like a prequel type thing to your last spike fic? thank you sm for all your work bb!!

Pairing: Dilf Daddy Spike Spiegel x Reader

Tags: virg1n!reader , hurt/comfort, squirting, oral sex

wc: 2.9k

a/n: i love u anon, tks for making my dreams come true < 3

18+ Minors dni

-

“You okay doll?”

You nodded slightly, somewhat lying as you felt an ache in your core after he pulled you into his lap. Watching tv as his hand rested on your upper thigh, his thick fingers subliminally working there way up, higher and higher.

Adjusting yourself multiple times, feeling his length grow bigger with each movement, embarrassment rising to your face as you rested your head in his shoulder. Your legs still draped over his, calfs resting on the couch. 

He was ignoring the feeling too, not wanting to get his sweet angel worked up and scared of him after unsurprisingly finding out you've never done ‘it’ in your words, the day you two got a little more intimate.

His cock growing harder at the thought of you telling him you’ve never been touched, or even touched yourself before. Internally feeling pain knowing that his baby has never felt a high from cumming, wanting to bring you there.

As your little hands gripped onto the suit that was layed on his chest, your innocent doe eyes looked up at him batting your eyelashes.

Yes you had a crush on him, he was tall, handsome, always took care of you, and he was older. The peek of gray coming through his hair, his big arms lightly wrapped around you, his deep warm voice that soothes you to sleep. It’s safe to say that you were in love with him.

Ever since he snatched you up that day almost a year ago, he’s taken care of you. Wondering why you were different, knowing he usually didn’t favor women, after hearing him and Jet talk about them. And if he did he only kept them around for a night, ‘litteraly’  kicking them out the next morning.

It shouldn’t make you heart flutter as much as it does, knowing you were special. But it was obvious at this point, always holding you hand went you two went out, him saying “it’s because I don’t want you to get lost”, to you asking to sleep with him at night, immediately opening his arms for you to crawl in.

You felt him move you hips, feeling you panties get wetter. Shuffling around trying to get the thoughts out of your head, thinking about how you tried to do what he did last night. 

All alone in the shower as you ran your hands up your body. You fingers lathering soap on yourself as you pinky hit your breast, letting out a moan at the feeling. Thinking about how you were moaning out his name like a mantra as he kissed down your body, paying special attention to every nook and cranny, loving how worked up you got just from putting his lips on your nipples.

Your hands moved to your lower region, stopping at your clit like he did, heat rising as at the thought of him sucking on sucking on it. Sliding his fingers in and out, mumbling “you’re so wet for me baby”

But your fingers weren’t enough, nor could you do it right. Not knowing how to do anything yourself as he always did it for you. Trying to imitate the pattern he was working in, rubbing your fingers in a slight circle, even shoving your finger in only fitting one in, not succeeding in the slightest.

Leading to you crying, sobs muted by the water falling down, wanting to do something by yourself for once. Not wanting to rely on him even though you loved it, loved the feeling of his callused hands on you, but you felt burdensome if anything.

Knowing how he always came home tired and stressed, wanting to take care of him by taking care of yourself. Not realizing that they went hand in hand. Your pretty moans and pretty face twisting and turning were the only thing keeping him going.

He felt your wetness growing on him, leaving a patch behind. Remembering how tight you were even though he ate you out for hours trying to get them to fit in. Wanting to feel your walls around  his cock, not his fingers.

“You sure you ok baby?” He asked waiting for you to nod, to lie to him again. His hand gripping tighter around your thigh, one of his hands moving towards your waist “Cause I don’t think you are.”

“WelI, i was thinking…. about you.” The throbbing between your legs suddenly grows harder to ignore, almost painful. You cross your legs to try to make it go away because it feels weird. 

“Of course, what else would be going through that pretty brain doll?.” His smoky breath meeting yours as he inched closer to your face, knowing where this was going .“what about me, hmm?”

“Um… I-I want to make you feel good, too.” You muttered out, placing your hands on his neck as you turned his head towards yours, gleaming hopefully eyes hoping he would feel appreciated.

“Teach me how to touch you.”  You pouted, placing your palms on his crotch, fingers gently grabbing it through his pants. “wanna to make you feel good too.”  The throbbing in your core growing harder to ignore, faintly hurting as his knee was bouncing you on him. Trying to close your legs to try distract yourself, but your legs were locked with his, not letting you go in the slightest.

“You wet?” He groaned feeling your soaked panties bleed through his pants. His hand moving towards his cock, grabbing it to calm him down and he couldn't keep his eyes off you know. You don’t answer as you feel his gaze upon you, your confidence fading quickly as you decide to show him want you want though actions, placing your hands on his growing erection along with his. “Fuck, I--”

You look so endearing clinging onto him, batting your lashes as you wait for him to tell you what to do, just wanting to be his good girl. “You wanna make me feel good, make me happy?” He repeated, running his hands up to your lower back after stopping at your ass. 

“God angel, you’re driving me crazy” he said pulling you face to face with him now, straddling his big thighs as you couldn’t help but grind on them. Just being with him made you feel so much better.

“I was thinking bout... how good you treat me, I wanna do the same to you. I feel like I can't do anything...” His hand raises your sinking face, forcing your teary eyes to meet his soft gaze as you echoed. “I wanna treat you good, make you feel good too.” 

“You even know how?” He says waiting for you to shake your head no. 

“You gotta teach me”

“Fuck-. Alright baby c'mere.” he said standing up, holding your tiny hand in his as you followed him into the bedroom, the red and yellow tinted artificial lighting being much more soothing than out there.

You were on your knees, ignoring how the carpet burned against them as you saw his cock up close for the first time. The last time you saw it was when he ‘taught’ you how to touch yourself, being in awe that it was that big, now in your head thinking that every man was as big as him.

He went along with it after you said you couldn't do it alone because you only got off to him. He ignored the fact that it made his heart race in a way it's never before, cumming the fastest he's ever done since he was a teen, thanking god you were inexperienced.  

He grabbed your jaw gently, cheeks squished in-between his hand as tried his hardest to not just fuck your sweet little face. “Like this baby.” he said, after his thumb opened your mouth, bringing your lips to his tip. Catching on and kissing it, using your tongue like you he told you. Only staying at the head , too scared to take anymore, 

“God damn..”  he groaned, his hand being wrapped around the back of your neck. Slightly pushing your head down to which you gag, immediately pulling back, the string of drool still connecting you two. “You gonna be my good girl?” 

He took a hold of his cock, stroking it a few times before putting its attention back on you. “Open up” he said as you did what you were told as he slapped his fat cock onto your tongue hanging out of your mouth, precum and spit dripping off onto your chest. 

“You gotta use your hands, kiss and lick it.”

“okay” you muttered out, already doing it. Kissing open mouthed on the sides, stroking the vein under it while making it as sloppy as could be. Tongue flicking back and forth on the slit at the top, his moans acting as a guide, letting you know what he really liked.

You seal your mouth around his head again, barely fitting it in your mouth gazing up at Spike, seeing his face flustered as yours. He looks pleased, letting out a small grunt. "Pretty girl," he husks, fingers stroking your jaw. You thriving at the attention and praise, loving the way his voice was when he talked to you, just you.

"Keep sucking on it, and don’t use your teeth sweetheart.” he encouraged, wondering why this was a natural talent for you. You eventually closed your eyes after they were watering too much and sucked. It didn't feel as good as you thought it would, but the thought of making him cum gets you antsy, doing your best to accomplish your mission.

 He gives another low moan, while you do the same in response. Loving the idea that you're getting him off instead of himself. His cock barely halfway in while our too lost in thought sucking him dry when you suddenly smell the comforting scent of smoke flowing through the air, relaxing your throat more.

You're drawn off of his cock, held gently by the throat, need racing through your head, chills running down your back. A moan leaves your mouth as his jaw quivers, your breath gasping . His knees shift into a better position, guiding you back to his length. "Fuck. you like it now, don't you baby?" he puffed out, his eyes as hazy as yours. "Taking my cock so well, baby. Swallow like a good girl, okay?”

He slapped it against your cheek again, your drool flicked there along with your lips. You nodded as you took him in between your lips again, pushing teasingly. He takes it into his own hands and starts fucking your mouth. Not letting you catch a break, chasing his high. Snapping his hips in quickly, gagging through it, tears falling onto your cheeks from the pressure. 

Spit drooling down your chin, while his fingers dig into the back of your head, knees burning from rubbing against the carpet. You gag for the nth time, shoulders meeting his knees, as you feel hot ropes come down your throat, his curses becoming white noise at this point.

You turned your head down as you coughed up his cum, leaving your mouth falling onto your chest knees as he sputtered.  Feeling tears build up in your eyes, scared that hed get mad at you, take back what he said about you being a good girl, his good girl.

“m-m’sorry” you sniffled, feeling the tears fall down you face yet again, but this time from pain, not pleasure.

He crouched in front of you, wiping the remaining with his thumb before connecting his lips to yours. You sucked on his tongue, his cum being swapped between you two as you looked at him with your red glossy eyes. Your way of saying sorry. “It’s okay, Baby, it was your first time, you did so good, okay? Made me cum and everything.” he said kissing you again as you squirmed in his touch.

He stood up, grabbing you in his arms too. Your legs numb and bruised, but you settled yourself on the bed, him following,  towering over you. “You like thinking about me between your legs, like hearing what  m’gonna do to you ?”

You slide deeper under him, holding the pillow up hiding your face as you quietly admit it by letting out a soft “yeah”. Feeling helpless that he's the only one who gets you like this, is that what this feeling is, pleasure? 

You nodded and he moved his dirty hands, wondering all over your soft and pure body as he slowly undressed you completely. Wanting to take in your beauty just for himself, wanting to capture the moment he defiled you, replaying it over and over again in his head forever. Wanting to capture your sweet moans in his mouth as he kissed the pain away, cooing at you with his deep voice for taking a cock too big for your tiny little virgin cunt.

His cock already throbbing again at the thought, lining himself up with you. “Don’t worry, pretty girl” he cooed. “I’m gonna take care of you. M’gonna fuck you so good, angel. Gonna make you cum over and over. Gonna stuff you full just like you want.”

The reassurance comforted you more than it should have, him being the only thing you'd ever had, in a sense. Yes you two might have had sex, but that didn’t mean you two werent friends, event though you wanted to be more. 

 Wanted to wake up in the morning in his arms, giving him a good morning kiss before he left everyday. But all you did right now was wait; wait for him to get home with jet, and the dog. While you took care of him in the ways you could, but that's how friends acted right? Being on good terms and trusting each other, right?

“It feel good? Doesn't hurt?” he asked as you quickly nodded, wanting him to make you feel good. He dragged his lips to your neck, sucking on the skin, littering every inch with the numbing pain, tracing his open mouthed kisses down to your chest. His spit cooling the heat rising in your body. “Fuck,” he breathed bottoming out. “You’re so tight for me, baby. You like it? Like the way my big cock is stretching you out?

You nod gasps being held back, not being able to catch your breath. The ache between your legs beginning to ease. Grabbing his neck with your trembling hands, getting him to look down at you.. “faster….please” You whispered out, just loud enough for him to hear and it’s all it takes for him to connect his hips to yours. Your lips letting out soft, honeyed moans that already have his balls swelling again. 

The pain disappeared as his thrusts became more stable, having a rhythm. Your eyes gazing up at his filled out body, so strong. You were swooning at the man balls deep in you, loving everything about him from his graying hair and downturned eyes, to his smile.

“Wh-… what do I do, w-wanna be good.” you choked out, heavy breaths catching the remains of earlier in your throat. “Shh… lemme do the work, okay?  Your little holes clenching so wet and sloppy for me, so tight. Feels so good, baby.”

His hands hook under your thighs, locking you in place as he continues fucking you, getting rougher and rougher with your physical permission. Your back arches as he angles his hips different, his cock hitting you in a new way, his fast thrusts sending you into overdrive. Cum squirting from you, making the mess under you even bigger while he's groaning out at the picture before him. “Fuck baby, that was so hot, good fuckin girl.”

That was all it took for him to release, you precious little body being so lewd beneath him, fuck. Vision turning from black to white as he felt you push yourself into him more. Helping you, still temporary blind, eyes closed as he pulled your thighs closer to himself.

You whimpered in pleasure as you felt the hot liquid filling you up, the warm feeling in your tummy making your head spin. It had your brain turning to mush, the submissive part activating as you spread yourself even more, wanting to show off the filthy part of you.

“Did it feel good?”

God really blessed him with an angel. So pretty, dirty, so willing to please. The fact that he's the only one who has ever seen you like this is getting to his head, making sure it'll stay that way, as he flipped you over leaning your head against his chest. 

“You took me so well, sweetheart, so proud of you for taking me..”

You were so tired, jaw aching while keening at the praise. His hands resting on your bare body made all the tension ease, the feeling of him still in you making you get too attached to him.

He laid still, taking in your state as he felt you turn your head to look at him, while he was already admiring you. Flashing you his smile that you loved so much. He curled up with you with his warm body holding your cold one, easing you to sleep with a faint smile on your face. You finally did something on your own.

[limitlessgojo]

The More You Know

Warnings: NSFW Content

NSFW Tags: SMUT, Mutual masturbation, Squirting, over-sensitivity, Sex Education, unprotected sex, Bareback, dry humping, First time with Noritoshi, explicit content

Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Smut, Fluff, Fem!Reader

NSFW Taglist: @fkngkumiko @gojoussunglasses @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: I tagged this to the best of my ability. As I've already said, minors please DNI with my NSFW works.

Previous Chapter: Home Sweet Home

Next Chapter: Big White Lies

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate.

Chapter 13.5

Utahime Sensei called both you and Noritoshi into her office one afternoon to give you "the talk." She’s aware that both of you are dating.

You and Noritoshi worriedly looked at each other before sitting down, across from her desk.

“There’s no need to be worried. You both haven’t done anything wrong. I just wanted to check up on the two of you.” She clarified. You both relaxed.

“Y/N, how are you adjusting to life on campus so far?”

“Ah, yes I’ve been adjusting well, thanks to everyone who has been helping me here and there. I’ve also grown used to the campus.”

“That’s great to hear. Looks like all of you first years are now settled in. Which brings me to my next question,” She started getting serious. "So, of course I know that both of you are dating. Teachers hear things from other students, it’s natural. Did you both get your parents’ permission to date each other?”

“Ah, yes, my mom and dad both know and said it’s okay for me to date senpai. They’ve been wanting to meet him as well. Next time when we are on break.” You said meekly.

Noritoshi quickly turned to you, eyes widening. Ah, you haven’t told him yet that they wanted to meet him. “They said it’s no big rush. We can do it over Christmas break.” Your voice quieted down.

“My parents have also approved of our relationship, as you know.” He put a hand to your back and spoke comfortingly. As always, your body relaxes under his warm touch. Hearing that made the knot in your chest slightly loosen up.

Utahime looked pleased at that. “That’s excellent to hear. Everything seems to be in order. And, have you both… you know… done "it" yet?"

Your eyes widened, then you flushed red before shaking your head. Noritoshi replied with a soft "No, we haven't." Face just as red as yours, before he forced it down.

The room suddenly felt stuffy and hot. Was this conversation really necessary?

“Ahem,” Utahime cleared her throat. “This is a very important conversation, and I want to make sure that both of you are engaging in consensual and safe sexual practices if you ever decide to do it. I’m aware that both of you are already of legal consenting ages here. That and it’s not uncommon for teenagers in Japan to do such.”

Gosh, just let this pass already, you thought to yourself, utterly mortified.

“So now I’ll talk you through the use of contraceptives and birth control then.” It was a mini sex education class with just the 3 of you.

And the rest of the afternoon was filled with a lot of do’s and don’ts and the explanation of how to use condoms. Noritoshi’s soul was practically leaving his body at the very thought.

“Don’t be shy to ask me for help in buying condoms or birth control pills. I’d rather both of you have safe sexual practices than not.” She ordered sternly.

You both quickly nodded, “Yes sensei.”

“Okay, that should be all. Then off you go.” She ushered you both out of her office, ready to prepare for another faculty meeting later.

After you both left the room, you slowly walked back to your dorm with Noritoshi close behind you. An unspoken agreement hung in the air as you filed into your dorm room.

He doesn’t come over to yours as often as you go over to his room, but he likes it. You’re happy that he doesn’t mind the numerous stuffed toys or fluffy blankets on your bed.

You served him some tea and mochi, not having spoken a word still. He stayed silent as well.

“....” your face was still red. Noritoshi found it almost funny and incredible, how it stayed red for such a long time. He reached out to cup your face.

You leaned into his touch. His hands were slightly cold, taking away some of the heat off your face.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to. For us I mean. Like what we just talked about now. I’m okay if you’re okay with it. Completely.” He stumbled over his words.

You nodded and reached out for a hug, which he gladly gave. Sitting on his lap, cradled in his arms. “I… I’m okay with it. The sex talk was just really embarrassing, but inevitable.”

You shyly looked up at him. He gave a weak smile in return, trying to slow down the blood rising to his face. His ears were still pink though.

"When we are both ready then." He hastily uttered before changing the topic. You giggled. He was more reserved than you expected.

◇◇◇

A week later...

You’ve both taken to reading Kamo no Hotaru’s diary entries together when you were both alone and undisturbed. One evening, during a rare moment of peace when both of you had no schedules, you stayed in Noritoshi’s room, laying on his bed. “Toshi! That entry! It matches our first shared vision together!”

“Right. I noticed that when I browsed over it too. He really…” Noritoshi trails off. You perk up and cuddle into his side, facing back to the diary, “What is it?”

He abruptly closes the book shut, face really red. It was a good thing this was a copy of the original, because of the way he roughly handled it.

Why. “Toshi!!! Lemme see~” you whined, grabbing the book. He couldn’t look you in the eye as he handed you the book. You eagerly flipped through to where you stopped.

Hotaru was describing his fight with his beloved Misaki. “She must have been the woman in my visions then huh.”

Noritoshi buried his face into the junction of your shoulder and neck. You stared at him. His face and ears were on fire. “Toshi, are you not feeling well? Fever?” You pressed a palm onto his forehead. He shook his head and snuggled into your hand. The blush settled down rather quickly.

This guy never fails to cheat with his body temperature huh.

Anyways, going back to the passage.

“Misaki was lovely tonight. She astounds me every single time she fights with those demons and curses. Just the most beautiful sight to behold.”

“Awww, what a dreamy man” you sighed. Noritoshi’s grip on you tightened.

“Tonight was the first night in my life that I was able to hold her so close to me. We went back to the inn and had our baths before going to bed. We only had one futon, since the inn was in some far off and secluded area. It was also full, so we had no choice. We ought to be getting back to the urbanised districts soon. Her hair smelled nice. I can’t forget how her cheeks turned dark red when I undressed her. Her soft mounds under my hands. -

You shut the book, closed your eyes and stuck your tongue out hard against the inside of your cheek. Total silence filled the room for like 5 minutes before you opened it and continued reading,

“I’ve never felt anything softer than Misaki. Every curve of hers was to my liking. Every sound she made was comparable to the voice of an angel’s. She tasted so sweet down below. I never thought I’d be one to have premarital sexual relations, but to hell with it all.”

Noritoshi peeked over your shoulder, arms still wound tightly around you with one eye open, reading the passage together with you.

“I will try to remember in vivid detail how exactly I’ve taken her. It was a rush of the moment sort of thing. She was such a shy thing, covering her eyes as I undressed in front of her.

Only to cry for me to fill her up moments later. I took my time with her, tasting and feeling every bit of her body. Not long after, I made love to her. Her insides were warm and molded perfectly to me.

We both felt like we were melting into each other. Our Crimson bindings out and about, floating around our bodies as we indulged each other in pleasure.

It was worth leaving everything behind, in order to experience this life with her. We had to take great care so as for Misaki to not bear a child as we are still in the midst of fighting battles with demons here and there."

“Damn that guy was desperate for some action.” You said out loud. Noritoshi choked hard on his spit at this. You didn’t even take your eyes off the ancient erotica you were reading as you reached out with one hand to pat Nori on the back.

“Not like they had condoms or contraceptives back then huh. How difficult.” You wondered. “Y/N I-” Noritoshi sputtered. You turned to him. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You what…” your eyes trailed down at the movement. All of the sudden there was a pillow on his lap. He turned away, forcing his hard-on to disappear.

Noritoshi was just a very sweet little thing. He was really taken aback with your lack of fluster at the moment.

Whenever he whispers into your ears and holds your hand you blush. He secretly loved nipping at you and playing with your fingers to make your face glow red.

Even when Utahime sensei gave both of you the talk, you looked mortified. But since that day, you seemed to have gained a layer of quiet confidence.

And here you were reading an old smutty diary entry with a straight face.

An unpleasant thought came to his mind as he blurted out, "Have you had any experience at all? With this…. These things?"

Your eyes widened, before you shook your head. "Mmm to be honest none at all. You're pretty much my first everything Toshi. First boyfriend. First kiss. First love. You know."

Noritoshi relaxed. "Me too, you're my first for everything." You smiled at him, moving to hug him before he grabbed your hand to stop you from going further. His other one tightened on the pillow on top of his crotch.

Ah.

You wanted to help him but… Is it too early for the both of you? You wanted to wait for Noritoshi to bring it up. Unfortunately, he doesn't make any moves.

He is still very much a gentleman, politely turning away and closing his eyes whenever you get dressed or undressed in the ensuite bathroom. And really, it did touch your heart at the fact that he was really so sweet with you.

“Toshi, do you want any help with that?” You set the diary down on the side table. He flinched before slowly turning to you.

“Do you not find it disgusting?” He asked weakly.

“Mmmm, not really." You crawled into his lap, your face now slightly pink. You wanted this. You wanted to see more of him, know more about his body underneath the wide and loose fitting clothes.

“If you don’t want me to, that's also okay. Like you said, we have time. This isn’t something to be rushed Toshi."

He looked up at you. Deep down he really wanted this. But he wasn't prepared for it to go this fast. He didn't buy any condoms, lube, or contraceptives for you at all. He still had yet to research on more safe sex practices.

He shook his head. "I'm not worried about me, I'm worried about you. We only talked about this the other day, I hope it's not too fast for you."

"I'm okay as well, no it's not too fast."

"As long as we are both fine with it, then it's okay."

"So… what do you want me to do?"

He turned bright red, not bothering to use his jujutsu to force it away. He wanted his body to be honest with you. "We don't have to go all the way now. Please touch me down... there. I'm clean. Just took a shower before you came in."

You nodded, tossing away the pillow on his lap as you undressed him. There were so many layers of clothing. Your mouth watered in anticipation upon seeing the outline of his erection clearly straining against his clothes.

And the one thing you've been looking forward to seeing. He parted his inner white yukata, revealing his abs and pecs. Holy shit. He is built and defined. With a solid 8 pack of abs, arms with biceps and triceps.

You gulped. Noritoshi stared at your reaction. "You like my body."

"Ah I do. Noritoshi, you're really pretty." You admitted.

Noritoshi shut his eyes and felt the last of his sanity fizzling out. Why aren't you close to him then?

"You took the words out of my mouth, pretty one." He pulled you to his chest, nipping at your ears and neck. He knew all your sensitive spots, easily making your body react to him.

"Toshiii, haa no it tickles" Shaking in his arms, you pressed against him, running your hands down his front.

"Looks like I really don't need to hold back with you." He growled, gripping you tighter.

You hooked your fingers on the waistband of his pants and pulled it down, revealing his length. It sprung up, pretty and already hard.

It was big, long, thick, with veins protruding, and the mushroom-like head was a blushing pink. You stared numbly, wondering how it would ever fit inside of you.

You cautiously fisted him. It was so hot and heavy, twitching in your hands. You pooled spit in your mouth before letting it drip onto the tip of his length, making him glide easier in your hands.

Noritoshi threw his head back at the action, breathing heavily. Small jolts of electricity ran through his body, upon feeling your lips on his chest and neck.

"Angel, it feels much better when you do it. I wanna make you feel good too, please." His voice is deeper than normal, sending shivers down your spine.

He didn't hesitate as he pulled off your top as you nodded. You felt self conscious, covering up your breasts. "No need to hide from me. You're a gorgeous sight for sore eyes." Noritoshi pushed away your arms and sucked on your tits, making you gasp out.

"Toshi."

"Mmmm." He swirled his tongue around your nipples, playfully tugging and sucking on them like they were candy. Your pants and underwear were quickly discarded, leaving you bare.

Cold air hit your entrance, making you tense up. Noritoshi's hands stroked your legs until they settled on your ankles.

"Spread your legs for me," he murmured. You couldn't say no to that. You slowly widened them, inch by inch, the bed creaking underneath you.

He stared at your wet opening, parting your lower lips. It was glistening with slick. He dragged two fingers over them. Sinking in his fingers and groaning at the sensation of your walls. It was hotter and wetter than he expected it to be.

"Here I was, trying to stop myself from losing control over you, only to find out you've wanted me too." He scoffed. You grew more and more aroused at hearing his voice become deeper, just slowly nodding in agreement, unable to speak. The only sounds coming from your mouth were moans and whimpers of his name.

Squelching noises filled the quiet room as he began to experiment with your body. Nothing escaped Noritoshi. He stared at you, watching and analysing your reactions with every curve, push, pull, and movement from his fingers.

Not long after, he found your sweet spot, pressing his fingers eagerly into it. You shivered.

He leaned over to kiss you while slowly fucking you with his fingers. The pressure on your insides made you feel floaty. You reached out to continue stroking him as well, making him tense against you until you slumped against him, head feeling way too hot and dizzy.

He huffed a laugh, “Too much for you angel? It feels good doesn’t it?” You whined at him with a pout, guiding yourself up and down on his fingers. Your voice grew louder when he pulled them out.

"Shh, give me a second." Noritoshi repositioned both of you, so that you were sitting on his lap. Putting some pillows behind him as he leaned against the headboard of the bed.

It was a slightly risky position, he could easily enter you from this angle so you had to push your back against his chest, comforted by his warmth.

"Let me play with you." Who was this man and where was your stoic Toshi? Noritoshi kissed everywhere he could reach, the side of your face, your shoulder, cheeks and neck.

"Come on, rub yourself against me." You felt him smile against your skin.

You took his length and grinded your pussy down on him, slathering your juices onto him. Tears streamed down your face. "Why does it feel so good? Ssss too much."

His hands were cupping and squeezing your breasts, holding you firm against his chest. You could feel the sweat gathering on your back.

Both of your Phoenix marks were glowing a bright red, illuminating both of your features. You reached to clasp his wrist, feeling the warmth seep out from his mark.

Heat. That was the main shared sensation between the two of you. Simply and drunkenly chasing after pleasure. The soulmate bond showed you his inner desires of breeding you, filling you up, pleasing you, and making you content. You felt touched and giddy.

Noritoshi's head is hooked over your shoulder. Mouth watering at the sight of him thrusting against your thighs. The tip of his cock poked up and down between your legs. Your ass was pressing hard against his hips, driving him insane.

You both grinded against each other at a moderate pace. Hiccups and mewls escaped your lips as you drooled.

You tightened your thighs when he sped up his thrusts. Your pussy feels hotter with each passing moment. He was humping you so hard, you started to lightly bounce on his lap.

All you could feel and smell was Noritoshi. The scent of sex was heavy in the air. You've never felt this type of greed over a person before. It scared you a bit.

"Darling, come on me." Noritoshi breathed out huskily against your ear. You shivered, squeezing and crossing your thighs. He softly grunted as he came all over your legs, the cum still hot.

Amazed, Noritoshi watched as you also squirted, spraying all over both of your legs and the mattress. He leaned over to rub your clit more, feeling it spew against his fingers as he put a heavy pressure on it. “Haaah! Toshi, no stop!! It feels so good!” You threw your head back wildly, feeling your legs spasm beyond your control at the touch of oversensitivity.

"Is that a no or a yes?" He nipped your earlobe as he continued rubbing your clit.

"More. Gimme more." You moaned.

He smirked, immediately plunging two fingers into you, pistoning it in and out as fast as he could, while his thumb continuously stroked at your clit. He held you tight as you sobbed his name unabashedly.

A second orgasm violently washed over you, making you shake. He helped you ride it out, by slowing down his movements until you collapsed against him.

It was hard not to fall asleep as you both stopped to catch a breath, but you had to clean up. “Sorry for making a mess.” You turned to face him and frowned upon feeling the stickiness on both of your legs.

His eyes glinted darkly, “No, don’t apologize. We both made a mess. I quite like it.” You hid your smile in his neck at that.

"We can take a quick shower then go to bed if you'd like?" Noritoshi offered.

"Mmm… sounds good."

The shower was quick and pleasant. It was nice to smell like Noritoshi. You happily hummed to yourself as you lathered your arms with his body soap. It smells nice and deep with touches of bergamot and clove.

On the other hand, Noritoshi was having an internal crisis. He just wanted to stuff you full of his cum right there as he helped you bathe, but was determined to wait until you got married to do so.

You went to bed in one of his kimonos after changing his sheets. Noritoshi loves how you look in his clothes and how you smell like him now.

"Thank you…" You whispered.

Noritoshi's body was so warm as he pulled you to him, his lips pressed against your temple. "Mmm, thank you also for trusting me with your body. I feel so relaxed, should we do this more often?"

You squawked in surprise, pushing his chest and laughing with him. "Nori's not so pure minded after all. Here I thought you were super conservative."

"Never said I was, angel."

◇◇◇

The next day, you were both mortified when Todo came up to tell you to keep it down next time. His room is next to Noritoshi's.

The both of you didn't realize he was home when that went down. “I'm soundproofing my room after this.” Noritoshi exasperatedly sighed at you.

"Ahh, maybe I should do the same with mine," You fiddled with your shirt. He smiled, leaning down to see you eye to eye, "You're looking forward to doing it with me again, I presume?"

If he wasn't so handsome right there, with his eyes bright and filled with so much joy, you're sure you would have smacked him in the chest.

".... No comment."

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

Author's notes: Had to check the legal age in Japan for consent to sexual activities and the laws are SO MESSY. Long story short, the official age of consent is 13. Based on prefecture, for 16-18 years old, it is legal if they have consent to date from their parents. Basically, they’re trying to prevent relationships with huge age gaps for teens (with over 20 year olds) who might be taken advantage of. Toshi and Y/n’s bdays have passed already, so they’re 17 and 16 here.

Of course note that this is all fiction anyways.

[ryosmne]

Safe Place.

Yakuza! Nanami Kento x gn Reader

Hello everyone, this fic is in collaboration with my dear friend @sunfloweroranges you can read their fic here :D

I kind of changed my writing style for this one, I'm trying out different things so let me know how it goes, feedback is always welcome, that's all from me hope you have a good time reading 💜

Summary: You're clueless

Warnings: mentions of blood, mature themes, mentions of murder and head chopping, language, yandare Nanami if you squint.

Grocery shopping is never fun when you're alone, especially making your way back home in the cold winter months, it gets dark so early.

A slight twist of your gut had made you walk back home in a faster pace. Turning your head every couple of steps, you never saw anything, yet this feeling never left even when you got through the main entrance of your apartment complex.

The elevator was broken once more, and you were already out of breath from rushing back, as you took the first steps up, your next door neighbor, who looked way too scary for your own liking bumped your shoulder on his way down.

Jeez he's in a hurry today.

Mumbling a quick apology, even though he was the one that was at fault, you quickly found the strength to run up the stairs and lock yourself in. Some short of commotion was coming from outside the complex that you didn't really care to hear.

That pink haired guy, your neighbor, who was build like a damn door, always got himself in some short of trouble, hearing him yell profanities or even throwing punches was a far too often occurance.

Why did he have to live right next door?

It's safe to say you did the best to keep the hell away from him, not that he seemed to bother with you, neitherless he was fucking scary.

Kento was ten minutes late, he was never late, except for the days that he had to clean up someone's mess, the days someone underestimated the power he held or the days someone dared speak your name. He wouldn't even tell them 'dont you dare speak their name' or anything along those lines. There was no warning when it came to mentioning yo,u only taking immediate action.

Naturally you were in the dark about all of that, Kento -or Ken as you would often referred to him as- kept you far far away from the darkness of his world. That was his way of keeping you safe and at the same time having you as his personal way out of his work and in his defence he didn't completely lie about his employment. He was an investor, just a bit of a different stock market than what you had in mind.

As far as you knew, Nanami Kento was an extremely successful business man, he chalked up his tattoo covered body as just his preferred style, since he is this good at what he does, he likes to say that his work place doesn't give a damn about his ink covered skin and the expensive gifts that he always pressures you to accept are just another benefit of his high profile job.

"Darling, I hope you didn't start without me." Wrapping your arms around your extremely sweet boyfriend you left a small kiss on his lips watching as the corners tagged upwards in an equally sweet smile the moment your lips left his.

"Of course not Ken, it's Friday remember?" Fridays are the established date nights in, you and Kento cook and dine together. More often than not you end up slow dancing to some jazz, or with you laying on his chest Infront of the fireplace, listening to his heartbeat, talking about life while he strokes your hair until the dawn.

Tossing him an apron, after he -like the gentleman he is- tied yours, you got to work on today's dish: Chorizo carbonara.

"You're never late on Fridays, bad day at work?"

You spoke while slicing some papers.

"Yeah, the stocks are all over the place and it's getting me stressed, but it's our night darling, anything else isn't of importance."

Kento always found a way of distracting you when it came to talking about his day, he is always quite vague and when his palm rested on the small of your back gazing down at you with those adoring eyes, it's hard to keep focused on anything other than him.

"Why don't you tell me about your day love?"

He always asked you that, Kento is in awful need of the calm that the mundane life you live carries. He craves to feel that, he still loves the power he holds over people, the way the mare mention of his name makes others tremble in fear of what the man will do to them shall they not comply to his requests -more accurately orders-

"Thankfully work was pretty good today, I finished grocery shopping so we could cook, I got us that wine you really loved too. The neighbor is being weird again but that's not new, maybe moving out isn't a bad idea."

Everything was like music to Kento's ears untill that last sentence. You had mentioned moving out before, but Kento always found a way to convince you not to. The rent was good, this house is close to your work, he would always reason with you until you changed your mind. He never pushed too hard fearing that you'd suspect something, but you only smiled and ended up agreeing with him.

You see, unbeknownst to you, your weird neighbor is Nanami's most trusted man, he's protecting you twenty four hours a day, even as you walked up the stairs today he dealt with another threat that was headed right your way. No, you cannot move before you know everything, but Nanami can't bring himself to break your bubble, he loves you and you love him, the real him, he would never scare you by letting you take a peek at his point of view. Maybe he should run away with you afterall.

"He doesn't look that bad, love. I'm sure he wouldn't hurt a fly."

Nanami knew he was capable of a lot more than that but it was true, your neighbor was an ally and although he would hurt lots of people, you were on the list of people to be protected and Sukuna took his bosses orders very seriously.

"Besides, my love, anyone would have to get through me first before attempting to lay a finger on you."

With the way his lips moulded on yours and his velvety tone, how could you not believe every single word that just came out of his mouth. Kento would die before letting anything happen to you, that little statement helped bring you comfort.

"You must really love my house Ken, can you pass me the butter?"

The moment your back was turned, Kento let out a breath of relief. That little voice in his head he always pushed away yelled at him to tell you everything, he burried it in the back of his mind once more.

"Can you believe that? I swear she drives me insane- Ken are you listening to me?"

That was weird, Kento always gave you his full attention. Perhaps he was tired today.

"Yes darling, you were talking about that Satoru guy, the one who annoys you at work."

Yeah you were, but that was while you were still eating, about twenty minutes ago.

"Babe, you're tired, let's go to bed, we can pick up where we left off another time, you need to rest."

The habit of staying up all night on Fridays had really stuck, but sleeping when your partner clearly needed to, is very much on schedule although it rarely ever happened.

Getting up from the sofa, tagging at Kento's arm to follow you to the bedroom had Kento irritated at how concerned you grew for him. He still feels you're too good at times, all the time to be exact.

You only heard him sigh before he pulled you back on the sofa, having lost your balance in his sudden move, you landed on top of him.

"Stay with me a little longer my love, I'm sorry I spaced out, I'm all ears for you now."

Another invitation for you to just talk to him, he didn't care about what. Kento loved the tone of your voice, how it changed pitch depending on what emotion you held or what you were talking about. His voice was quite monotone, like everyone else's around him. He had to grow thick skin and throw away all short of feelings, but everything he locked away years ago came rushing back the moment he spilled coffee on you six months ago. You hadn't even complained about the burning sensation on your skin as he helped clean you up, you just gave Kento a smile telling him that everything was fine and these things happen.

In his world they don't, someone can breathe the wrong way and lose their head, all it took was your damn smile and that statement to get him to need something different than what he had. Kento never thought he missed a thing, he found out how wrong he was that very day.

Sometimes he wished he never took the time to help you out back then, but that was only because he didn't know that he'd put you through all this.

"So I'm just sat there in a staring contest over the last price of cake, I won but my eyes still feel a bit dry."

You laughed, Kento stared down at you with a fond smile, your head on his lap and your hands tangled in his, brushing his knuckles and examining every bit of his skin with such care, God you were beautiful all over.

While Kento's hands were very interesting a small detail in the cuff of his shirt got your stomach to drop.

"Ken, is that blood?"

He swore he cleaned up, he always cleaned up before coming back to you, he never missed a single splatter. Maybe rushing home after not one, but two people tried to harm you today put him on edge.

He had missed a single drop. He was absolutely disgusted that even that tiny part of someone who dared to say the name y/n out loud infront of him and even threatened your existence was anywhere near you.

"Sweetheart that's probably tomato sauce from cooking, thanks for pointing it out, you know I hate staining my clothes, I'll go change."

Your meal didn't contain tomato sauce.

Why was your gut telling you that something was off?

Kento seemed a bit tense tonight, was it just a bad day at work?

He never really conversed on his profession. The huge dragon that started from the back of his thigh, ended on his left shoulder covering his entire back was just his 'style'. You swore you heard him talk to the pink haired man who lived next door but he told you he was on the phone. Everything little bit of suspicious behaviour you had previously payed no mind to, came to you. On top of that what was his reason to lie about a drop of blood on his sleeve? He could've said it was a paper cut or something, Why did he lie?

Behind the bathroom door Kento only cursed at him self.

Why didn't he lie better?