#minghao x poc reader

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

"Secrets in everything: Letters, neighbors, and things only walls will tell you"

Hello everyone! I'm so sorry that i haven't posted a fic in a while! it seems like i only post one every two to four weeks at this point ughhhh anyways ive written this fic for a friend but also for yall as well so i hope yall like it! after this fic im gonna work on an ask then so ill hopefully have that up soon for the person who sent it in! A little picture collage will be coming VERY soon lmao i didn't have time to make one yet. This fic all started when i was having some Minghao brain rot and stumbled upon this prompt about wifi names: "apt 203 is loud as fuck" "apt ??? say it to my face bitch" strangers to lovers and shit ya know? i cannot express how sorry i am that this is late! I put it in my que and since it didn't post when i wanted it to, i tried posting it on my own and it wouldn't let me. in summery: never using que again

anyways here are the warnings/info: cursing, smut, Very heavy on the smut, speaking of sex like it's something you need and not just want if you squint, slightly hinted at romance between hao and reader i guess idk, but you could just as easily read it as friendly affection, Minghao gets drunk and is a wee bit stupid, reader is on top, reader is referred to using they/them pns but has a vagina and tits, and a very nice ass that minghao likes to grab throughout this fic lmao, Minghao is thirsty for reader, reader is thirty for Minghao, Minghao keeps how he made the wifi name a secret from reader but it eventually comes out at the end, mutual masterbation.... through a wall if that makes sense, oral sex (f. receiving) hand job, protected sex (be safe, ya'll), shitty ending lol, friends to friends with benefits, writing out sex dreams? Minghao says something while drunk and can’t undo it although he wants to

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper”. This is in no way is meant to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone~

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Thoughts lead to desires, desires lead to actions. Thats what kept replaying itself in Minghaos head the second he hit enter on his phone to change his wifi name. He'd heard it when he was a kid. Somewhere he couldn't quite remember. But now, suddenly, it was burning so fresh in his mind he couldn't get it out. He sighed to himself as he put down his cup. Looking down at his phone screen with and various other wifi names popping up bellow the words he cannot believe he just wrote. "apt303isloudasfuck"

He really shouldn't be doing this. This is why he shouldn't drink, he thinks to himself. Especially since whenever he saw you rushing out to work or school, or wherever you carried yourself to each morning. He swears his heart does a flipping routine.

And this? If you found out it was him telling everyone in the radius of your apartments that you're loud? It could ruin whatever you two don't already have. He thinks that maybe he'll just try his best not to be seen by you. Like, ever again. The problem with that though is how you both need to leave at about the same time to get to wherever you're going. And besides, maybe he did kinda want to mess around with you a little bit. Maybe that'll teach you to keep it down. If it wasn't loud music then it was some... other noises. Sounds of you, moaning and groaning. Making a mess of yourself behind his wall. Or, maybe somebody was the one making your words incorrect and moans fall from your lips.

or maybe the latter was your roommate. Cause as much as he didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to believe it was you who was getting pleasured by other people. Cause damn, he really wanted to be the one making you moan like that. He didn't even know you, so who's making you cum shouldn't be any of his concern. And it wasn't! Much. He wants to be the one making you feel good, bringing you to orgasm with his tongue. And he didn't like to think about the fact that other men were making you feel the way he wanted to.

But, none the less, whenever he did hear you, with only the thin sheetrock wall between each of your headboard. Thin enough to where he could hear you so clearly as if you were right there in front of him. He sure did enjoy the verbal show you put him through; fisting his cock until his tears made him bleary eyed and he couldn't take it anymore- his hand drenched with own cum from orgasming a million times along with you but still never feeling relived. So he always kept going until the pain of overstimulation was too much to bare. For you, all for you.

That was when one night he realized he didn't hear anyone else moaning along side you. Come to think of it he never really did. Sure, sometimes but not every night. that meant you were pleasuring yourself? The sounds started so suddenly he didn't have time to react. The thought of your fingers pleasuring yourself, pumping them in and out of you, covered with your slick and rubbing your clit? It drove him crazy, It was music to his ears. He could listen to your beautiful sounds forever.

He didn't even have the time to pause the show he was watching on his phone, taking his other headphone out of his ear so quickly that it landed off the surface of the bed. Where his headphones ended up wasn't really a concern for him. Cause in that moment all he could think about was you. He could always rewind it later. That is, if he ever could stop pleasuring himself to the echoes of your voice, even after you stopped. Cause for him, once he started he could never stop with you. You were too addictive for him. The way to talked, the way you'd always leave a little note with the bundle of mail you'd drop off at his door when ya'lls would get mixed up. Whenever he'd come home to see it he couldn’t have been more glad for apartment numbers to get mixed up and a mail person who did their job a little too quickly at your building sometimes. Albeit he was a little sad he didn't catch you; but he liked the look of your handwriting-- it was cute, he thought.

but fast forward a little later and he’s starting to write back. And not just when you mail gets mixed up, either. Just little sticky notes he taps on your door ending with smiley faces and exclamation points. You start writing him back, too. And before you two know it you’re sharing notes ripped out of full notebooks with arrows pointing to the back because you still have more to say but never enough room. He seems so easy and just oh so caring through this words the more you two find yourselves awaiting the pages you’d put in the others mail boxes. Finding yourselves excited more and more for the familiar hand writing inked on clean white paper. You two talk about anything and everything. But don’t be fooled, cause minghao spends the better half of his dinner time making sure each and every letter in his letters to you are legible. He feels like a little schoolboy trying to impress you with his neat handwritten and well detailed sentences. But he can’t help it; he just wants you to think he’s somebody. Somebody worth spending your time with and talking to. He doesn’t know why but he feels like, especially with the more he’s talking to you, he wants you to view him as someone cool. Great, he thinks. Now he definitely sounds like a little kid.

would you mind? He asks himself. Would you mind that he’s a little desperate for you? So desperate that he lays in bed and stays awake a little longer now because he wants to hear your sweet voice react as you pleasure yourself again for the hundredth time? He hopes not. But, just like that new Wi-Fi name he’s chosen for his router, that’ll stay between him and his apartment’s ceiling. The thing he looks up at in both instances. Sometimes when he gets reminded of what you’d think of him if you if it ever got out that he wrote the “apt303isloudasfuck” and how he doesn’t understand why he still has it up. And the other time he looks up at the ceiling is with his mouth agape, his lips wet from his tongue running over them with each torturing stroke of his hand over his bulge in his pants. The fabric constricting him to were it was painful every time. But not wanting to stop touching himself for long enough to slip down his pants. (The response on the Wi-Fi thing only comes after they talk o each other face to face. “…and when he checked his phone again, looking down at the bright alumina red screen with tires eyes, there was another name quite similar to the one he put down as his one. ‘Apt???sayittomyfacebitch’

he slammed down his phone onto the nearest surface (which just happened to be his lap. Yeah… not the best idea) but believe it or not he wasn’t really thinking about that right now. You responded?? Well, he doesn’t know who would call “apt???sayittomyfacebitch” a real response like oh, I don’t know, “yeah, my day’s going great.” But you noticed? Well then again it would be pretty hard to disregard when your apartment is getting dragged through the mud with a wifi name. But this made him even more worried. This means you’ve definitely seen it. And based on what you said…. You were probably looking for the person who wrote that. What if you found out it was him? Is this why you were taking an interest in him all of a sudden? No, he believed in his ability to conceal it from you enough to know you’d never find out. That’s when, with this new information clouding his good judgment he just had to grab the neatly folded paper from his bedroom desk and walk out his door. A little potted plant was the only thing separating yours and his places of residence from each other. One put up and watered every Saturday morning. He patted down the backside of his hair as he made sure not to ruin the paper he so neatly folded for you. Realizing he forgot tape to stick it to your door, he was About to go and get some when he heard movement behind the heavy door that lead into your apartment. rustling of footsteps and cloths. And before he knew it your face had appeared in front of him, door swung into your foyer. He couldn’t just leave now. You had seen him. So he tried his best to put on a not awkward smile as your eyes lit up the dim outside hallway he was standing in. Your presence seemed to replace the light bulb that had been missing the fast few days in the overhead lights. “Hey, Minghao. Nice to see you.”

you remembered his name?? His name? The person who let everyone know how loud your apt was? Of course you did. What else? You’d started off almost each and every letter to him with his name in one way or another. Oh great, now he was thinking about all of your letters to him. Everything you had shared with each other from the depths of both of your hearts. How the fucking hell was he supposed to look you in the eyes when you knew how, when he was in high school, he had fallen on his actual face trying to reach his pencil when it had fallen underneath his desk. Leaned too far out of his chair and then boom! Face planted. How was any human being supposed to look someone they considered a friend in the eye when all you two did was trade letters to each other because of your busy schedules? Not to mention how he’d been stupid enough to let it slip that he can barely open a bag of chips without it busting out the bottom too. But, he remembers, it did make you laugh. So maybe he could do this. He’d made you laugh and carried quite deep and just plain old nice conversations with you over letters for months. What was so hard about doing them with you face to face?

He gave you a smile as you slid to the side. “Hi. I was just dropping your note off.” He says. How could you be so cool calm and collected, he wondered. Meanwhile, you were asking yourself the same thing about your neighbor. The neighbor you couldn’t stop thinking about. The way he talked to freely with you, how you two just seemed to click after the first note; bouncing off of each others jokes and becoming friends. You’d considered giving him your number but you kind of liked getting to know him off paper through his best hand writing. You’d never tell him, but you secretly had a pile of folded papers in the top drawer of your desk you’d written out of him. Never sent. And probably, considering the contents of those letters, never will be. He shows you the folded note, this time on different paper, you notice. You take it out of his hands as you gesture for him to come inside. “Are you sure?” He gulps. You looked at him like he was crazy, shrinking back a little. “Dude, get inside.” You chuckled. He wasn’t usually like this. You think back to all the letters he’s sent you. And come up with not much to make you think he’d be like this around you. You certainly didn’t want him to be like that. after all you’ve talked about with each other you’ve come to know someone, even if it is only over paper… someone who you consider a friend. That’s another reason why you could never send him those letters. They had… things in there that two friends wouldn’t never think of the other. Or at least admit them out loud to them. But, with the way he handled himself now, which wasn’t that much different from his letters. But more uptight now that was standing by your coat hangers by the door and bending down to take off his shoes. You didn’t know what, but something was off with him. He was jittery, lol he had just snorted a two cups of sugar on the way out his door. His eyes darted around like he was in an awkward setting. So, you tried you best to make him as comfortable as possible.

you lead him through your apartment and into the living room. He took a deep breath. He wants to tell you that he’s not always like how he is now: palms sweating, and unable to talk much. You just overwhelm him to the point where his mind is clouded and his actions seem off. It shouldn’t be a problem for him though, you talk to each other multiple times a day. Like, full on conversations. But now it all feels just a little too real with you hovering over him as he sits down on your sofa, trying to remember that you’re both friends. He comes back to earth with you weave you hand in his face. You laugh nervously at his distraction. “You didn’t hear a thing I just said, did you?” Shit shit shit. This really isn’t a good look for him. “No,” he hangs his head low for a second, “im sorry I didn’t.” You lean back and seem to relax a little bit. It almost looks like you’re just as in need to relax as he is.

Just didn’t have have the horrible talent of not being able to hide it well. It wasn’t his fault. He was already trying his best not to get hard. Having to not act nervous and flustered over seeing your pretty faces too? That was a lot to ask of Minghao. That’s why he sat down. And why he was crossing his legs in hopes of trying to distract himself from the yearning for you inside him. For him to have all of you. For him to make you sound just like you do when he hears you in your room. God, all he ever dreamed of now was you writhing is pleasure above him as he tongued your clit. Or you wrapped some tightly around his cock he felt like you were trying to choke him and make him cum. “I said my roommate isn’t home.” Oh, so you did have one, “and asked if you wanted something to drink.” It made him feel strangely comforted though, that you also were feeling the same as him.

He agreed readily. Finding it easy to make room to spend more time with you. You came back not a couple minutes later and ploped down next to him, your chin in your palm. You didn’t want to admit it, but fuck he looked so beautiful in person. It made you wanna curl up on your sofa and immerse yourself in him all day. You’d be content with just staying here and doing just that, making up for All the missed times where you could’ve been already. But no, you kept yourselves mostly behind the pen and paper. Scribbles and commas became your only form of sight into what the other looked like. You didn’t even realize how long you’d been carrying out your plan to stare at him until he shifted a little farther back into the cushion. “Is it just me or is that way more awkward than it should be?” He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. And then getting a sickly little whispering reminder of how he was now: drink in hand, phone in reach— was not that unlike the situation where the secret he has to keep from you now came about. But no, he can’t think of that right now. He’s trying to keep his mind free of anything that could jeopardize your friendship. And thinking of the one thing he’ll never be able to tell you might do the trick if he doesn’t stop. But strangely, the idea of you finding out— the idea of you strongly telling him to take the fucking thing down doesn’t do anything but make him want you more inside. You telling him-- no, ordering him to take it down.He didn't know what or why, but it made him reach all new kinds of levals of excitement. Anticipation of what you could do to him. How you’d moan for him and writhe under his touch. The possibility we’re endless and he couldn’t stop thinking up new ones.

There’s an un spoken rule between the two of you… both of you made noise. Noise that neither of you really minded because it brought you so much pleasure. But in all your writings to each other, you’d never talk about it. That was the rule: don’t bring up what happens at night. A Thought Leeds to a desire, and a desire Leeds to an action. So you tried not to talk about it, no you even theirs noting to think about it, was there?

All you needed to do was get through this night. As... friends. Because that was what you two were-- friends. Noting more, noting less. Didn't matter than you imagined him every night you were alone and needed relief. Him and that cute smile of his. Him reaching up to fix the light in your little corner of hallway on your floor of your apartment. The way his shirt rode up, exposing his waist. God, you'd do just about anything to have his skin under your fingers. Feeling the softness of his tummy.

"So you said there's some shows you never got to watch because you dont have the streaming service?" You shook your mind out of its dangerous thoughts. providing an easier environment not to pounce on him; less... tempting when you were thinking of watching tv with him and not being on top of him. His shirt on the floor. He nods, leaning impossibly closer to your already heavy breathing form. Didn't he realize the effect he had on you? You gulped, hopefully not loud enough to hear. You didn't need this to go anywhere that wasn't what normal friends do. "My roommate pays for one of the places that show you were talking about plays on." You look him dead in the eyes as you reach for the remote.

You had planned on just doing so as a question to him weather he wanted to watch anything. But it turned into the most arousing staring contest youd ever been a part of. You looked into his eyes, forgetting to blink. You felt that if you did you might miss commenting about the way they flickered and shone. There was something else in them, though. His pupils were blown wide. somehow making his eyes even darker. You wondered what he could be thinking about. But that didn't really matter, did it? Because what you should've been focusing on was how to move away from him

You were so close you could feel his body heat like a radiator. How was he not sweating? You felt like the sun was right in front of you. Meanwhile, Minghao was wondering the same thing. The ac kicked on at just the right time because he didn't know how much longer he could keep himself from visibly overheating. That was the last thing he needed right now. You got up on your knees to reach for your glass. Why did you have to do things that drove him wild? Did you know deep down that you were torturing him with every move? It was stupid and desperate for him to have to control himself so much after the little you were giving him. It wasn't much, but it was teasing him. It all made him crave more. It was childish and desperate of him to be like this with you. But he didn't really care anymore. After knowing you-- even if it was only from swapping letters, he couldn't get enough of you. If you ever stopped taping letters to his door then he'd beg on his knees for you to continue. He didn't care that it seemed desperate because it was. He was. Desperate for more of you. Just like he was now. So much so that when you leaned forward again to pick up the remote to turn the volume up of a show that he'd been wanting to watch for months, but somehow with you it sounded like background noise. He couldn't pay full attention to it for the life of him because You were Right There. Next to him. Smiling and chuckling and genuinely enjoying what you were watching with him. The smile he hoped beyond compare that youd have when reading his letters. He'd only seen it a few times in person, but, a feeling bubbled up into his chest. The same one he feels every time reading your writings to him.

He felt and aching in his groin. If his eyes weren't as wide as saucers before, then they definitely were now. He didn't even need to look down. More afraid to than anything. If he took his eyes of either you or the tv-- things that he wanted to be real, things that were real... Well, he doesn't know what that'll do but he doesn't want to acknowledge it thats for sure. He really doesn't want it to be real. This cannot be happening. Not here, not right now. but How could he not be half hard when you could lean over and kiss him right now if you wanted and hed let you? How could he not be half hard right now with you looking so god damn otherworldly? When all these plush sofa cushions made him want to do was to bring you on top of him and rub you on his thighs and cock until you made a mess on his sweats? It was impossible. He searched whatever space was left in his near thought cleared, empty and short circuiting brain, using what he thought where his last few brain cells that weren't occupied with you to think of what to do about his problem. His eyes landed on a pillow on the back of your sofa, likely moved out of the way for more room. Quickly as to avoid suspicion, he glided it down from its perch and on top of his growing erection.

Little did he know that you had turned the tv up to drown out your own thoughts. Thoughts you didn't need of him. Never doing you any good other than frustrating you further. Making you desire him more. Nearly an hour later and you two had sunken further into the sofa... and each other. Thoughts lead to desire, and desires lead to action. That was what you had to keep repeating to yourself over and over until youd hopefully get the point to stop thinking of those beautiful, soft looking lips. Didn't help that his tongue was fucking darting out to wet them every two seconds. You couldn't help but stare at them. It wouldn't hurt if you just leaned a little closer, would it? Friends cuddle on their sofas while watching the tv all the time.

And your ac was running a little high. But instead of getting up to turn it down like you usually would have to, I don't know, not waste your money. You stayed just like how you were, grateful for the excuse you could readily have available to you if he asked. But to your surprise he didn't. Although he did press the pillow more firmly into his lap. If you didn't know better you would've thought the pillow was made of gold or something. Like it was his teddy bear or something. You couldn't even think of anything else besides how badly you wanted to push both the pillow and preferably also his shirt off of him and shove him down into the sofa.

This was pathetic, you thought. A new low for you, even. This was your first time spending more than a couple minutes with the guy face to face and... not like it was awkward. No, not at all. You had been friends for six months or so over letters. But being with him. No, being so fucking close to him on this damn sofa was making you desire him even more.

That was it, now! Great, you'd already crossed one line of thinking about what youd like to do to him. Now you were starting to desire it, too. Not much longer and you feared you'd take action on those thoughts and desires. You really needed to make your self think of anything anything that would save you from this self induced peril.

"Did you see that weird ass wifi name?" Your words almost made minghao jump out of his seat. Steadying his pillow over his lap (his stupid fucking boner still hadn't gone away) And clearing his throat, he finally responded. "Oh? That? No, I haven't. What is it?" He tried sounding airy, nonchalant, free as a bird. "You know, that wifi name that had popped up what, about six months ago?" You seemed to ask yourself the question, pausing for a minute before continuing, "Around the same time you and I started talking. It says-- actually, lemme pull it up right now. Its fuckin hilarious." You whip out your phone before he could say another word and before he could even take another calming deep breath you were reaching over him, check pressed up against his upper arm, showing him the wifi name he made but couldn't tell you about. Why does he keep it on there anyways? He doesn't really want to even admit the only to reason he's come up with to himself. One was that yeah, your apartment was loud and it felt nice to have this. Even if you could one day find out and ruin whatever this thing he had with you was. Number two was that maybe it did make him painfully hard to think about what youd do to him if you found out. Use his cock for your own pleasure for hours until he was crying from overstimulation? Tell him not to cum until you tell him to, touching him in ways that'll make him let out embarrassingly loud noises for you, telling him that if he came without permission youd punish him cause he was a bad boy? Everything that could happen? He couldn't get them out of his head

"That's weird." He chuckled, scratching behind his neck, "Never saw it." He seemed nervous. But you were kind of liking his blushing face and puppy dog eyes. But Really? You thought. For some reason, your shitty building interfered with even the best of wifi providers. So most people had to reconnect their devices to their wifis every once and a while. Maybe he was on a part of the building where it wasn't as bad? Or maybe he paid extra for better wifi? It didn't really matter.

A little later at you had gotten up to refill both of your drinks. Little did you know Minghao had followed right behind you. He didn't really know what that said about him, all he knew was that he didn't want to be separated from you just yet. Even if it only was for a few minutes. He hadn't had his fill of you. Though, he doesn't think he ever will. You could feel him behind you. His presence, just like every other time he talked to you, was heavy as lead in the air. You could smell his cologne, too. And you didn't mind that the smell would linger in your apartment and stick to your sofa for longer than he'd be here.

You didn't, however, really pay much mind to how close he was. Nor did he, honestly. Neither of you really could care or complain, though. As when you turned around you came face to face oh so closely with your houseguest. The gap between you was small enough to where the cups in your hands pressed neatly against his chest, making your knuckles dig into his skin enough to feel his body heat. Also close enough were you could feel how much he really enjoyed being so close to you. You backs away, not nearly as fast as someone caught in this situation would usually be like.

Although missing your presence so close to him, he knows he needs to pull away from you. You were probably grossed out because of him now. And yes, maybe one day he would've told you how he feels, this was not the way he wanted it to go at all! He can't believe he just did this-- not remember the thing he's been trying so hard to hide? He wishes he could go back in time and slap himself in the face for even thinking that getting up without something to cover his crotch was a good idea. To his surprise though, you smile at him knowingly. And before either of you has a chance to think about what you're doing, you pull him closer to you. Just like you had been before. Expect now theres no barriers of fear between the two of you.

His hands fall limp at his sides. Yours slide up his torso. Both of you wanted this; to move closer. But it seemed like just as before, neither were going to make the first move. But you liked him this close. And even if noting was going to come of what you had just done besides nervous laughs and turning heads in the future, you would be glad to have his body this close to yours in your memory. His hands ghost your hips. A shiver runs its way up your spine at the phantom touch. "Was that a good sigh?" He asks. Lost in the throw of everything about him, you hadn't even realized you had let one out. "Of course it is." You say, trying to bring him even closer. You see him swallow hard before bringing his lips closer to yours.

It takes all of your willpower-- a source that was already dramatically dwindling once he got here. To not yank him in and smash you lips to his. Something you've been wanting to do for a while. But with his hands planted so wonderfully on your hips: firm but still delicate enough to never crush a flower. You're not sure how much longer you can hold out. He takes the next step: leaning a little closer to you. By now your faces are mere inches apart. "This is bad..." He whispers, his fingers now hooked in your belt loops. Because, he knows that if he gives in now, he'll neve able able to stop. Wrapped around your finger. "Maybe," you whisper, tongue darting out to lick your lips, an act his eyes followed with concentration. You loved the look-- wide eyed and begging, it looked beautiful on him. You wanted more. "But this is the good kind of bad, hm?" You suggest. He nods slightly, still focused on your lips. Not like you aren't with his. As you close whatever gap was remaining between the two of you. Prohibiting you from being as close to him as you wanted. As you desired.

This felt so good, so natural. A blissful feeling you adored with all your heart. Even only a few seconds in. Minghao really wanted to take this slow, take his time with you. But the aching in his pants were starting to become painful. A glorious moment of feeling his lips on yours later and he's pushing you against your kitchen counter. His kisses becoming as urgent at yours. You never really tried to be gentle. After the first kiss-- the first second or two of him kissing you? You would be dumb to hold back.

He pressed himself into you even more. His knee slotting between your legs. His mouth was hot. Same as the growing feeling in the pit of your stomach. He parts his pretty lips-- the same ones youve had dream after dream of wrapped around your clit. You moaned into his mouth when he stopped gasping your belt loops like they were life support and griped your hips with newfound vigor. You deepen the kiss even more, something you weren't sure was possible.

His weight on top of you was driving you crazy. He pulled away from air, breathing heavy into your mouth. Your name on the tip of his lips. You couldn't stand not having them on you again. You felt his body tense when you pull him back to you. But this time your lips only ghosted his, fluttering over them. Only making him want you more. Before moving to the soft skin of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses there that made his body go slack against yours.

Your fingers prickled and tingled as you slid your hands up his bare back, his shirt already halfway untucked. His tongue explored your mouth with vigor. At a time like this you were grateful for the counter to support your weakening legs. Not like you were really thinking of that anyway now, though. All this time you only had one thing in your mind: to make him want you, to be on top of him making him moan for you without let up. But now you weren't too sure if you were going to be the only one doing so. You couldn't hold back anymore. You needed to feel some sort of friction. By now your underwear was soaked ; you could feel the fabric cling to your wet pussy. All you wanted was for him to take them off of you. Pulling them to the side to finger would be just as good. You didn't care, you just need something form him. Anything.

"Fuck--" You inhaled sharply, grinding your hips against his thigh. Your apartment was getting colder no doubt . But even with his back exposed neither of you were shivering. Both too lost in how you made each other feel. You couldn't seem to get enough of him. Even if you've been reading his letters every day. Your fingers made their way to his beautiful, soft hair-- hair only and angel would have. So pretty and otherworldly it seemed unreal under your fingertips. As he moved down to your next. Though his lips never seemed to want to leave yours. He spent a while on your jawline, kissing in the spot where your neck met your face until it was beautifully numb. The good kind of numb that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. The spot would no doubt the tinder later on in the day. But you felt oddly pleased to have a reminder of him on your skin for as long as you could. Even after going a little further down to lick and gently press his pretty lips to the front of your throat, he still chased your lips like a man deprived of your kisses as if he didn't have them a moment ago. But once he fully focusses on his task he is unstoppable.

Every drag of his tongue on your felt like a delicious mix between torture and heaven. The feeling he was making erupt inside you was like no other you'd ever felt. And you never wanted him to stop. Of course, with the first coherent though in your brain for him to never stop, he did. This time his eyes finding yours, having a question in them. You nod. and with that he goes even lower. Your color bone becoming wet and sticky with his saliva. You pull his hair down to keep him there. You're still moving on his thigh. But it isn't enough. Not like it ever was. God, what you'd do in that moment to have his mouth on your pussy. He emerged back up to your face, looking at your with needy eyes. A second later and his lips are on yours. He melts into you, begging looks never forgotten as you flip him around so that now he was flush with the counter. He makes a sound of agreement as you start working on his neck desperately, just like he had done with you. With the thought of his fingers, his thigh was long forgotten by the both of you. Now you didn't think that it could ever do justice when all you could think about is his slender fingers and how they were gliding up your sides right now.

He tilts his neck back to give your more access as he bucks his hips into you. Both things you wish you had thought of sooner. "I-I-" He mumbles, not really knowing what he was going to say anyways. Even with just your lips on his neck, words dying in his mouth, all he can think about is them as you make your way up and down his skin there. All he can think about is ho soft they are. All he can think about is how they'd feel wrapped around his aching cock that was now pressed up against you. And now that all hes thinking about is having more of you he can't help put let out a strangled moan, as it rips from his throat he realizes that it's probably too loud for something as little as you sucking on his neck. But at this point he doesn't really care. He just wants to you to know how good you're already making him feel.

As soon as you pull his shirt over his head was as soon as his expression changed. His eyes seem to focus on reality now, breathing starting to steady. The look of need and pure fucking lust for you stays the same though. You plan on making it stay that way again and again. Even if you don't get to do anything more than kissing with grinded with him. Just to see the look in your eyes would be enough to bring you to your high on your own. "I dont wanna do this here. bed?" he asks with puppy dog eyes. How could you refuse him?

he grips your ass and kneads it-- strong grip, but with a kind of softness you can't deny, as you lead him to your bedroom. More like stumble into it, your lips never leaving each other. Locked with the key thrown away. To involved in the kiss he nearly bumps into the door frame of your bedroom. You jerk him away, finding it endearing when he chases the plush of your pretty lips. He realizes the you’d just saved him a bump on the head. “Well, guess that’s on walking backwards. Maybe—“ no time to think. You grab his hands with a primal, animalistic strangled sound. You needed him. Now. You grind into his lap, trying to find some sort of relief in the fabric of his pants and the flesh of his thigh. “Ah— don’t stop” he whines out, head thrown back like this was the best thing in the world he’s ever felt. At your hands. you almost stop in surprise. But his words have such an effect on you that you don’t think you can. Now you have to keep feeling him.

He doesn't know why or what came over him, but in a flash his hand his wrapped around your wrist and bringing it to his crotch, helping you feel how hard he is through his pants. "Shit— baby. See what you do to me?" Where this sudden courage came from, he doesn't know. But you have to know how crazy he is about you. you have to. He needs you to know. You shiver at the feeling of him beneath your hand. You nod at him, barely trusting your own words. You continued to rock into him, clenching your teeth. He reaches down between the two of you, watching his fingers as they snake right were you need him. Even if still covered in the confines of your pants. (Neither of you thought you could ever hate clothes as much as you did in that moment. They weren't doing you any good.) the wonderful feeling of him on your clothed pussy felt like no other. Now that you had a taste of his fingers, just as before with his thigh and just like a second ago with his hard length, you could never go back to something smaller. It just kept getting better and better. Now that you felt his fingers, noting else could compare. The desire for them was about to lead into action. But you couldn't care less. "I-Is this ok?" He asks. And youre taken aback. Him? Asking if you liked it when you couldn't even think straight enough to keep sucking on his neck like before, resorting to pressing a few kisses there in the meantime.

"You're doing great." You say, trying to keep any shakiness out of your voice. You dont want him to know how much of a n effect he has on you. He searches for your clit in a way that only made you want him more. Was he teasing you or was this real? You couldn't take it anymore: you unbutton your jeans and slide them down a bit, taking his hand and shoving it down to feel your wetness. He audibly gulps. Hard. You doesn't think he could ever move from this position: with his hand warm and damp with your arousal. When he doesn't do anything, his hand just idly underneath you, you say, "What? Nervous baby?" You laugh. Almost condescendingly. He gets the point a second later, shaking himself out of his daze. He wonders what this all says about him-- that he can't function the minute his hand is on your pussy. You grind yourself on his hand, his palm brushing against your clit every time your rock yourself on him. The fucking sounds in the air. Minghao doesn't think he'll be able to last very long with the obscene, almost pornographic squelching and panting he hears ringing in his ears. He finally takes his fingers into your ruined underwear, other hand that was feeling up your ass goes to your face, bringing you in for a hard and passionate kiss when he glides them inside of you.

At this point the kiss doesn't surprise you, you've come to have an inkling that he likes them. Or maybe, he just likes having them with you. It was bad, you knew that, but you didn't really care either way. Too lost in how his fingers curled inside of you just right. You were so warm, so wet and tight. He could just imagine what youd feel like on his cock. Meanwhile you? You didn't think you ever felt something so easily good. Just in an instant, he made you feel like he had everything you wanted and then some. Things you couldn't imagine just beyond your reach. You reel your head back and squeeze your eyes shut tight, trying to focus on not cumming so fast. He bucks his hips up onto your wet heat when he saw your face.

How was he making you feel this good? To the point were you were sighing and groaning and looking so fucking good? If his fingers weren't knuckle deep into your pussy, and his other hand wasn't pressed flat on the skin of your back, he'd pinch himself. Was this real? It sure didn't feel like it. Your hand his still on his wrist, holding him just were you need him. Forcing him to stay there. It wasn't like he'd ever want to leave you thought. He can't think of a single better feeling right now than your warm and tight pussy. He doesn't think the feeling could ever leave his mind if he could ever peel himself away from your bed once this is all said and done. But secretly, there's two things he doesn't know if he should admit yet. One: that he wants you to ask him to stay. He knows its only three in the afternoon... or at least it was when he got here.

(Thats another thing, ever since he go there all sense of time seemed to leave his brain. vanish along with his sanity into thin air.) He doesn't want to have to think about "when this is all said and done" and he has to tredge his way next door to his own bed. His own bed where all he'll have are the memories of you writhing and panting for him. Because of him. The ghost of your around his fingers, dripping onto his palm. And number two: is that your iron grip on his wrist did noting but turn him on more for you. Which, Minghao didn't even think was possible until now. But something about you making him stay right there where you needed him, helping him make you feel good... Something about that made his brain cloud and fog up enough to almost slow his pace inside of you. He guessed he just liked it when you took charge of him. Even in small ways like these. "Mmhm," You sound pleased, your hand never leaving his wrist and the other never leaving his bare torso, almost silently asking him to stay down, "Just like that." And at that moment he doesn't think he could ever feel better than how he does with that look on your face. You needed more. It was stupid, really. To just keep taking and taking and taking. But it looked like he was enjoying himself just as much as you were. "Please--" his beg meets your ears as you look down at him. His smooth skin under your hand, his pretty waist and nipples, everything,

"Eyes open..." For a second he seems lost for words, now desperate in his movements against you "I need to see you." Your lids snap open at his request. You couldn't see any reason to deny him. And it wasn't like you didn't want to take a moment to let his body sink into your mind. You run your hands up and down his torso, feeling every inch of him. Minghao shivers at the contact just like you did him but he doesnt make one move to turn away. How was he so god damn sensitive? And just from you feeling him up, too? But you wanted to remember what he felt like. The dip of his hips to his pronounced collarbone. The way his hair fanned over your pillow like a halo. He really was an angel.

But you felt like he was teasing. Giving your just enough to keep you begging for more. You got the feeling he wasn't doing it intentionally though. No... he seemed too nice for that. But no matter if he wanted to or not it was getting frustrating to have him playing with you like this. No outcome to his torturous actions. "Angel..." You call out to the man with the plush kiss blown lips that made you wanna devour them and then kiss away softly the harshness youve ensued on them. He breathes hard at the nickname, wishing to hear it fall from your lips like a prayer anytime youd have him all to yourself. Just. Like. This. He nods, your eyes never leaving his lips as his tongue darts out the wet them. He's been doing that all day. He had to have known what he was doing. He had confessed in one of his pretty written letters that he always brought chapstick with him. You weren't sure if you were glad he forgot it or mad at him because of how much you wanted to cum. "Don't tease." What was opposed to be heard as a light instruction, came out more like begging. But, to be honest. It wasn't like you were doing anything different in your heart. You wanted noting more than to cum around his fingers. So, just as before, the desires of the heart seep though your carefully tapped up cracks.

Minghao slows his movements, no doubt making you even more mad at him. But whats in his mind now could top anything hes done with you. It's been in his mind for a while now. And, in the end, he was never that strong willed when it came to matters of you. He told your just what he was thinking. though, it terms of trying to keep this friendship a strict friendship he was doing a horrible job at it. But, just as previously stated, a thought becomes a desire, and a desire will soon become an action. But now, he remembers something else from that saying: "it will then become sin." But the thought of you on his face, your thighs suffocating him and nose buried deep in your wetness sounds like heaven to him. The exact opposite. He'd been thinking about it for too long, then for a while he'd been desiring your like that, now he was finally asking. It seemed like it took forever to get out of his mouth. Hopefully like the taste of you on his tongue, refreshing when he licks his teeth. "I need you on my face." His words left you dazed. He finally stops his movements, his fingers still deep inside of you. "Angel, what--" "I need you on my nose." He nods his head once, beckoning you higher up on him. You slide a little further up on him, his fingers coming out of you with a sound he doesn’t think he can ever forget. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take. He fucking needs you on his tongue. Lapping up whatever you give him. Its not like you don't want to. No, it's something you've dreamed about for months. But as you start to get in your head about it, your thoughts turning from excited to worry. A comforting hand runs up your back, effectively letting you know he's right there with you. For you. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to. At all," He assures you. You nod, taking a breath. "Of course i fucking want to." You slide up onto his chest a little more. Shit, he can feel you dripping onto his stomach. How the fuck can he not cum right now? How could anyone not cum when you're on them like this? "Please, I just wanna make you feel good." He whispers.

And how could you ever deny him of his request? With his voice horse like he’d been screaming and his eyes pleading. You bring yourself to his face. His arms hand limp by his sides as if he wasn’t playing with your bra strap two seconds ago. “It’s ok.” You reassure him. He nods. His hands going up to grip your hips, slowly lowering you down onto his face. His tongue already hanging out and read for you. Just like his hard dick still in the painfully tight confines of his pants. He’s so fucking warm and wet. You can barely take the sensation. He starts moving the muscle a second later, giving you no time to adjust for damn great it felt to have him on you. You’ve waited too long for this. Having to control yourself around him and his fucking beautiful face. Him and his stupid body that was so nice all you wanted to do was sit atop it and stay there. His hands and voice that always brought you back to your bed at night. Your roommate was almost never home before you so that gave you the perfect opportunity to get yourself to relax. And also at the same time make him feel just how much of a effect he had on you. You always knew he walks had to have been thin— you could practically hear every other thing the man did on the other side. You always thought that had to be a bad thing. Now you see that it could be just as good.

Even better with how beautifully he responded. Giving you a taste of how he’d sound in person. How he’d be. A melody to your ears and quite the sight to see. In fact, that was exactly what you were thinking as you leaned back, his tongue still working wonders on you just by its slow and steady small mow vents. You could tell Minghao was still just testing the waters. And you’d never dreams of rushing him. No matter how much it felt like he was everywhere you didn’t need him. First on your outer pussy lips. You crying out at his tongue slid up and down your pussy-- rubbing just hard enough in a way he learned that made you clench your fists in pleasure. Then he was dipping the muscle in your needy and clenching hole. You didn’t want to admit it but you didn’t think you ever wanted anything more than to take him in at that moment. You let your hands roam freely on his chest behind your back, stretching your muscles as you felt his soft silky skin run along your finger tips. His tongue runs up and down your folds. It was sloppy, and somehow needy like his kisses. But it still felt like heaven.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, you can't feel his skin under your palms anymore because of how mind clouding the sensation was. Did he know was he was doing to you? His eyes were watching your face intently, searching for signs you liked whatever he was doing. He grips your hips even harder, but you didn't care about finger nail marks or bruises when he brought you even closer to his face. Now flush against him, his nose bumping your clit in a way that made your head reel. He gets to work on making your cum. It seems as if his only goal he's ever had now is to bring your to your high. It's all he can think about. Sure, his bare torso was shivering under the coolness of your ac but now it was hot as fire under your touch. He dips his tongue into your gaping hole again, liking the reaction your give him more than anything.

"Stick your tongue out?” A mix of a question and a demand, he happily obliges. You rock yourself onto him. His mouth, his lips, and his tongue. Trying to bring yourself to orgasm even faster. Your thighs locking around his head and cutting off most of his hearing. But he didn't mind. Now that he got a taste of you, he'd let you do anything to let him get it again. But why was he thinking of if he'd ever get to have his tongue buried inside your perfect pussy again when he was just getting started? hes going so fast wit you. too fast. he wants to take it slow (as if having oral sex the first time youre together for more than thirty minutes in person is slow) He wants to take it down a notch. So it doesn't end so fast. He needs you so, so fucking much. But he'll be damned if he can't take his sweet time with someone like you.

He takes charge again, running his tongue in circles around your clit. You tug in his hair to bring him closer as his warm palms slide up your back, playing with your bra strap. He brakes concentration on making little kitten licks along your clit for a second. So fucking good but torture still. He takes a brake to look into your eyes. Even fore a second. A frustrated grunt from you is what follows. "What're you doing? Keep going." You pant out. He keeps going, but no faster than before. Kitten licks turn into leisurely tasting your arousal in his mouth. Not stopping until every inch of him is coated in your slick. His lips and chin must be wet by now; he can feel your slick dripping down from his chin to his neck. it might've just been from all the teasing, but you were dripping this much for him? All for him. He thought. Running that sentence in his head no short of a hundred times and almost tasting it in his mouth. Because, wow. he was finally finally here. With you in your bed. Making you moan. He was finally the one who drew those sweet noises out of you. In the same place where he hears you almost every night. But this time it was him making you loose control of yourself and penetrating the walls with your noises. He could finally see you… and hear you in person. He was in heaven. Seeing what your face looked like when you pussy was getting played with.

Another one of your pretty moans spurred him on, quickening his pace because he thinks he'll die if he doesn't get to hear more of you right now. His tongue slides up and down your folds before getting to your clit again, making you let out a sigh of relief when the wet muscle mets your there. He can barely breath with his nose and mouth pressed so tightly up against you like this. But the wet and perfectly soft but stiff enough to make you go crazy. His fingers ghost up your legs, almost tickleing them, making your spread them wider for him. Fuck, he thought, a few mintutes in and he has already in love with your pussy. You scent, your taste. Everything. Not too far off from what he felt around you anwways. Noting new on his part. But this-- him brining you heat closer to his face so he can better lick and suck at you, that was new. But the good kind of new. A type of new that he wanted to always remain. Not something to try out once then never use again. The specail type of new that only makes you burn for more. Thats all he wanted with you-- more more more. Whateve more you were willing to give him he'd happily take.

The tip of his tongue dips inside your hole again, gaining the same reaction as last time he did so: you moaning his name out like a prayer. "Mmh," You pant, "right fucking there" Your hand that was preciously travailing down to undo the buckle on his pants stop abruptly, you, unable to move with his nose rubbing at your clit just right. He licks a long stripe up from your dripping hole, gathering all of your arousal he can on his tongue, to your clit. "You taste--" he bucks his hips up into the air when your warm fingers reach his hips, wanting noting more than to keep going. He knows he looks desperate, but in all truth he is. He really is. He just can't help himself. "Fuck, ah! You're perfect, so fucking perfect baby." He takes a break from eating your pussy so beautifully to look up at you. His dark eyes glossy and hooded, something primal and needy behind them just waiting to burst. And on other times, you would've shoved his face right back into you to get back to work. But this time all you seemed to want to do was to take in his handsome face. Just take a breath and marvel at it for a second or two. He licks his lips. His fucking perfect lips that are wet and messy and blown wider and have plumped up from all the kissing. And from how hard he had bee practically making out with your cunt a second ago.

Your juices are running down his chin but neither of you dare wipe it off. A reminder of how much he wants you, and how much you want him. You wonder how he's this worked up already. You hadn't even touched his dick. But god, did it make you feel powerful. You almost break into a laugh as he pants, one of the things, along with his heartbeat, that are in sync with yours. You don't really remember how it happened, but it did. And you for sure ain't complaining about it. You can almost hear his thoughts asking you what you're laughing about in his eyes. Then, before you can even say another word, he realizes. And in a spur of the moment decision, an act of bravery on his part, he takes your hand that was rubbing comforting circles on the back of your neck into his, making you bring your hand sliding down to his crotch up with it for comfort, he doesn't complain. "You really don't know how fucking good you taste?" He sounds surprised. Nearly addicted.

You've tasted yourself before, everyone has, right? It was definitely a distinct, flavor, but not really anything good or bad. It wasn't disgusting, wasn't delicious. You couldn't really fathom anyone loving it until Minghao. You had an inkling he had a bit of a oral fixation, you'll keep that in mind for next time, you thought. You shook your head no, and without another moments of hesitation, almost as if the world would collapse if he waited another second, he crashes his lips into yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth. He made your taste yourself on him. It still wasn't the best flavor, but something about the whole thing made you wanna cum on the spot. His tongue explored your mouth, coating you with your arousal still on his tongue. He needed you to understand how worked up you got him. How much he loved you taste. He needed it. He brakes the kiss with a whine, leaving you to chase his lips.

But still, more than anything you want him on your heated core. You want to cum. You snake your hands down to the waistband of his pants once more. "God, you're so good." He mumbles against you, the vibrations of his words that really, neither of you really knew what they meant, because, words like that could mean a millions things but also none, but damn did they sound fucking beautiful in his mouth. The vibrations that rattled your core felt so good that your had to stop yourself from sinking into him. You lean forward, your hands now planted where they were on his chest.

Your compose your self, finally, spitting into your palm a couple times. And he’s bucking into noting by the time you slide your hands down the front of his pants. He shivers when you touch his dick. He's so fucking sensitive from behind in the tight confines of his pants he thinks he'll blow any second. You start to pump him, though torturously slow. He groans again, and you pull him deeper into your pussy by his hair. Somehow it looking messed up like this makes him look even more attractive. And at the moment, you're more than done with the notion that you can't think of him like this.

"D-don't tease." He stutters out, barely being able to fucus now that you're touching him like this. He presses out another sound that makes your head reel. How, even though being as distracted as he seems, he's still able to keep a steady pace on licking you to your orgasm you don't know. The feeling of the weight of him in your hands is unmatched by any other you've felt before. By now, no more spit is needed, he's leaking out of the tip of this cock so much (the same one that you're rubbing your thumb over) to the point where he's making his own lubricant. His pre cum seeping in between your fingers and running down your hand as you pump him slowly. You could tell form the beginning that he didn't need much to cum, that he was trying not to for a while now. But you couldn't just have this time with him and not doing something of the sort, right? You'd be a fool not to take the chance and run with it. If Minghao were standing his knees would've already given out a log time ago. A muffled, "don't stop." comes in a plea from his mouth underneath you. "Wouldn't dream of it, angel." You assure him as you pump him faster. He gives a wet kiss to your clit, making your cunt even wetter and messier than before. He rubs his tongue all over your wanting slit.

You grind into his face again, chasing your orgasm. And he whimpers. A sound so delicate you wish you could bottle it up for youserlf and keep it forever. He's leaking like crazy in between your fingers, and groaning into you. His heart is racing like he'd just run for an hour. The sounds that are coming from him tonguing you are driving both of you mad. It's all just so wet and messy. But neither of you would change that for the world, liking it that way. He doesn't care that his pants are sticky and messy and that if he'd pull them back up all he'd be met with is a sopping wet patch on his on the front side of them And you don't care that your sheets are probably going to be ruined after you're done with him. At this moment in time all you two want to focus on is getting the other off. That's it. Plain and simple. His cock twitches in his pants with the next sound of ecstasy you make for him.

And he can't hold it in anymore. He squirms in your grasp, trying to keep himself focused. Senescing he was on the brink of cumming, you pump your palm around him faster, wishing your other hand could help you touch what you could not reach. You're fast and calculated, running your fingers along the length of him just right. The feeling of your hand, smooth as silk on him, is all too much to bare anymore. He shakes and quivers under your touch as he spilled into your hand. Gripping your waist so hard it feels like fire. He's sorry, he really is. Bu the needs something to hold onto while you're making him feel like it was dead and now being brought back to life. He groans into your cunt, never stopping his licking, trying to taste as much of your as he can as he cums. His voice, although muffled, lets out an unmistakable keen. He tries to still himself but the sensation is too much. You squeeze the base of his cock to ease him though his high. And his hands slide up and down your thighs. If he could he'd hold your arm in perfect place where it was. But when you kept it there anyways he felt like he wanted to give you the world. "G-god, thank you baby You're so good." His head can't stop spinning inside him as he spills his seed into your palm. "I-I" He can't speak. It's warm, and messy, and so fucking wet and it's all over your hand and fingers and you're still fucking him with your hand, not bothered by the thick liquid on you. Somehow that only turns him on even more. The wet squelching sounds picked up right back after they started, this time not from him and his desperate tongue.

"Fuck" He pants, his mouth still agape when you roll on him. Much to his dismay. If it were up to him he’d have your perched like royalty on his face for as long as he could. Your pussy blocking off his air supply as before and your thighs locked so fucking right around his head he can’t hear. Just. As. Before. And just as before he’d like to cum along with you in your bed again and again. Your soft sheets already feeling like heavenly clouds to him under his bare back. He's been dreaming of this, writhing in his sleep and waking up annoyed at himself, and at the situation of you not being there when he opens his eyes. He's been dreaming about you touching his cock again and again. Ever since you started letting him hear you at night by yourself, in your bed, fingers doing what you had secretly wanted him to do all this time.

He'd been imagining your moans-- the ones that he'd hear spill from your lips like fine honeyed tea, that he was the one causing you to sound like that and imagining himself just like how he was with you here: you on his face and his sensitive throbbing cock in your palm. He'd imagined himself making you cum and you squeezing the fucking life out of him in return. Making you cum... making your express beautiful sounds because of him and making you feel good. That was another thing on his mind lately. He stopped trying to make it go away, too. Opting to excuse himself from whatever he was doing and running for the nearest bathroom before anyone could see the tent in his pants. Sometimes forgetting to lock the bathroom stall in his rush to relive the tightness in his pants. It's all he can think about. Ever. Your cum on his tongue. What face you'd make. He already heard the sounds. And oh, did he want to hear more of them. The mere thought of it filled him with a sense of renewed vigor.

He spits on your clit, making the whole thing ever slipperier. Allowing him to glide his tongue up and down you even easier. Coaxing another moan out of you. You want to cum right then and there. He's giving you all you need. Everything you ever needed. The extra pressure on you that he's applying makes you wonder if one of those letters you couldnt send got to him about what you liked. he truth was, that, somehow got throughout the haze of pre orgasm bliss you were giving him, each pump of your hand making him more and more hopeful of the pending high that was to come. And sorted through what made you make the most noise. He wants you to feel good. If he just felt that good from just your hand then whatever he's doing must not be enough. He wonders if he's being selfish for a moment, but then you throw head back as your grind into his face, barely any noise of pleasure coming out because of how good it was all feeling. How good he was for you. And he knew he was on the right track.

"Please, I need it." He groans. Sounding more like a beg than he wanted to. "You feel so god." You wonder how he can reduce you to a whisper just from his tongue alone. One things for sure, you didn't wanna stop. "I-" Your shaky voice surprises even you,, "Right there, minghao!" You grip his hair a little tighter. HE can tell that you're close. Though you sounded even better in person when you were about to cum. This time on the flat of his tongue. "Go ahead," You hear from him, "Please baby. Cum on my tongue." Your high comes when your gazes meet-- fiery and sharp with pierced lust, but also wanting and soft enough to look at and just melt. Melt away everything. Strip away anything that was hindering you from feeling this way on him. Because of him. You moan and groan on top of him, not knowing where to look as his tongue works on you still through your orgasm. Never once stopping, wanting noting more than to collect your arousal on his waiting tongue. The pleasure he's still making your feel-- even as the final shock weaves of you still runs through you. Feeling like you body was being pushed and pulled from him and his torturous tongue moving against you. Because of him and what he's done for you.

He finally stops when you literally have no more to give him. But you still feel so fucking wet, dripping, even. Granted, some of the slick was Minghaos saliva coating your folds. But, for once you're spent. Not able to even hold yourself up. You'd talked a big game before this. Before he sunk the first kiss into your neck and ran his tongue up your pussy. You hadn't known how needy you could be until you saw his torso naked and felt the weight of him in your hand. you certainly hadn't expected for him to take so much out of you. But it was a good kind of tired. Not the kind where you wish fore more to be done but you can't give any (though, in all honesty, you wouldn't mind feeling him on you like this a second time.) Not the type of tired where your muscles ached and you felt like collapsing. But all you wanted to do was to fold into him. You felt tired, but no short of satisfied. When it was just you at night. Just you and your fingers and him on the other side of the wall. You could go on for awhile. Wanting, needing him to hear you. You never wanted to stop until you feel asleep. But with him under you like this... you couldn't quite explain it, but you were satisfied with staying close to him for a moment. And you did-- giving you two a minute to recuperate. Somehow it didn't feel forced. Sure, you were at the edge of your seat to continue with him, but you felt nice. Just taking a minute with him.

He guides you down onto his chest, his hand on your back. Warmth fills you like never before. Starting at the middle of your spine where his palm rested like an anchor, and springing forth to your neck and down you legs. Your hand drags itself away from his stomach and glides up his neck to his handsome face. Your head seems to fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. His mind starts to reel with all the possibilities of what could happen next. Who could say something next. What would you say, if anything? Or would you just lead him out your door? What would he say? But most of all, he thought of how it would be if you'd ever do this again. Maybe going further the next time. He'd die a happy man tasting you, but he still yearns to feel you. How he longs to be inside you.

But, for now. He was perfectly happy with just staying like how you two were-- his arms encircling your back and yours flat on his chest. He wants to stay like this. Not just until the both of you have recovered from your orgasms, but he wants to have you like this again and again and make you let out those beautiful noises until your throat is dry and your fingers are sore from gripping onto the sheets and his hair. He sighs contently. "Don't get too sleepy. We're not done yet."

His thoughts of fucking you again had to fall away, along with the taste of you fresh on his tongue. Something he wanted more and more every day, but something he was son beginning to realize he wasn't going to get, having to settle for the memory of it instead, fisting his cock to it-- and the sounds of your fucking moans. Unlike before though, it wasn't just a far away dream that floated to him whenever he heard you on the other side of his wall. IT was something that was a reality for him. Maybe just for a moment. But it was real and it happened. And now that his desire became a reality... all he could think about was how he wanted to feel you on him once more. Now that he got a taste he doesn't know how he survived without you for so long. God, he was so stupid not to have been having you in bed sooner. It was his new favorite thing. never leaving his mind like a good song he'd never get tired of. Now that it was real inside his mind, something that actually happened instead of a hazy image in his mind for him to dream about, he spun constantly with the thought of you. Over and over, never stopping as a thread in his stream of consciousness,. When he goes next door to his apartment later that day, all giddy and closing the door behind him and sliding against it like a person in a romance movie, he thought he'd never experience a better feeling. That was until, even though, just like the sounds you made for each other remained in the others apartment and never talked about, never mentioned until behind separate closed doors, you'd hadnt ended up on top of him or him in your bed like before... that was until you had come over after one of his letters had said something about him going on a date.

He didn't want to, really. But it had been nearly a month and, to his surprise one of his co workers had asked him out and well-- the truth was he did want to turn them down. HE really did. But they were always to nice to him. And besides, you had talked about setting him up with one of your friends. And as both options felt horrible to him, he'd rather not break the news to your own personal friend that he was never going to lust, and find attractive, and want to go out with anyone but you. He'd rather your friend not have to tell you that. He wanted you to be happy with your decision to set him up, and that if you did he wanted it to work out well. And that was why it couldn’t work: even while thinking of being set up with another person he couldn’t dare think of what that person might like about him, hoping they wouldn't be disappointed by him. But he could only think of how you'd feel if something you'd been working hard to set you failed.

This one, (and very much casual sounding by the look of it) date with his co worker didn't have to mean much right? No strings attached, no commitments. He liked the coffee shop they had suggested, and half prince anything sounded good to him. But here you were, in his bedroom. The same place where he had made that dreaded wifi name. The same name that he had tried to change when he go home from your place a couple days ago, and had been trying since. But whatever he did was to to avail. He was glad beyond compare that you hadn't asked for his wifi passcode. At this point he wouldn't even know what to say to cover it up. And it wasn't like this was something containable, either. He'd heard other tenants laugh about the name, agreeing if they were on the same floor or directly bellow you. What he spread about you? He felt like it was wrong more than anything else now. No longer filled with that sense of "what the fuck am i gonna do if they find out?" But now, his worries become background noise as you stand with your back turned to him, rifling through his closet on a mission to find him some "more self respecting clothes than what You described." Or, at least thats, what you told him in the last letter you taped to his door this morning.

He can barely focus when your gorgeous back, the same one he ran his fingers up and down not many nights ago, is turned to him? And how could he focus with well, all of you standing right before him? Trying to help him. Being so lovely and wonderful. True, just like you have always been with him. At least in his eyes. And all for no good reason anyways, because in all honestly he doesn't even like the person much at all. But, given how much time as passed before youve even brough the time you've spent together up. And how the wall is still separating you, maybe this'll help him to stop hanging onto to you. Even if it doesn't go anywhere, because, he's kind of hoping it doesn.t But still, maybe getting a so called taste of someone else to will bring down his want for you. You noticed something is up with your friend when he hasn't responded for a good couple minutes. You wave your hand in front of his face to get his attention. "Hello! Welcome back to the land of the living." You elongate the ends of your first at last words, hoping to make him smile.

For you? Always. Anytime

He rubs a hand over his face then through his hair, messing it up in the process. Did he really not know how much of an effect he was having-- pulling all this shit on you? "I sure don't feel it." He groans. God, it sends a shiver up your back. 95% Percent of it because your friend is sad, the other five percent he well, you hadn't heard his groans in nearly a month and fuck, you wanted to hear them like that again. You shake the memories from you mind as you place another shirt on his dresser into the "yes" pile, coming over to him. He's splayed out on the bed. A sight to see, really. Using his arm as a pillow and a blanket thrown over half of him, at this point mostly just bunching it up and laying on it. "Whats wrong?" you say in a sign songy voice, trying to make light of the situation. He chuckles, thinking you sound way too much like a mother with your eyebrow raised for your own good right now. "Jus' thinking about about why we've already spent thirty minutes on this. I leave in an hour and a half." Because i need more time with you before you go. "NO, really, what's going on in that pretty little head?"

He shrugs, trying to stay nonchalant. It didn't work on you though. He huffs like a child, rolling his eyes like a brat, flopping into his bed. "Just scared about the date." He says, keeping it simple. And yes, he wasn't lying at all. But he definitely wasn't stressed for the reasons he wanted you to think he was. You scoot a little closer to him. God, any closer and you'd practically be sitting on his lap. No, no. He seriously needed to stop before his thoughts became out of hand. Though, he wondered if it was too late for that. He wanted you to think he was beyond excited for the date-- that, other than his outfit he'd been thinking of it for days and couldn't wait. Now, he was thinking of taking the long way and claiming that he fell asleep or forgot his phone or something. But as stressed out as he was about this, he couldn't be an ass about it. So, he was going to try and make it on time. He didn't want to make his co worker think he didn't care about them. Cause he certainly did... like youd care for a cup of coffee so as to not spill it. But you? He cared for you like his own body. Unfortunately, you didn't fall for his see though crystal lies. "Well, yeah, I knew you were scared. But are you sure you should be?" He looked at you in question, fearing he might've just blown his cover, "Shouldn't you be nervous? Maybe even stressed out. Hell I know I would be, you've shown me their picture." You chuckle, he smiles. His eyes shine with glee like they always do when he smiles. Just like his eyes shone as you lay in bed together in peace. His chin on your head made you never want to leave his arms. You playfully nudge him. "As cute as they are..." You dip your head around to meet his gaze. You're leaning down and around and its an awkward looking position but you don't care.

"Really, Minghao, what's the matter?" "I wanna go on this date; I promise--" "Nobody said anything about you not wanting to go?" You say, your eyebrows raised in expectantly as if to tell him, you're not getting away from this question this easily. The truth was, you didn't really want him to go. You'd much rather have the rest of him in bed with you. But up until now you were going to suck it up because it seemed like he was happy about it. Now it seemed he didn't want to go either. "I'm just--" He sighs, running a hand through his hair just for it to go straight back into place, "What if I'm not into them?" He thinks it best to just tell you. I mean, what's the harm? A lot of people aren't into other people. Maybe now, as much as he didn't want you to have to, maybe you could help him come up with an excuse. Maybe you'd just have to give him one. "Sorry, I can't come because my next door neighbor said they're gonna fuck me lmao catch ya later ttyl" You know, better than that. Thats what he wants. Fuck more than anything. Thats why he'd doing this--- not only because youre his friend and he needs someone to unload that heavy feeling he's got onto someone, but also to give you an opening to hand him an excuse to stay. "What if?" You repeat. In a tone that said: tsk, either you do or you don't. "You're right" He sits up as if this just hit him. "I'm not into them. Like, at all." "Isn't that how it's supposed to work when you first start to 'get to know somebody'?" You ask, head tilted like a puppy. He thinks its the cutest thigh he's ever seen. "Yeah, yeah. You go out with them because you like how they've talked to you, three times and the very vague vibe and because they're cute, then you start to be 'into them', into them." He says. "Hao," He perks up at the name, "Looks like you're not too shocked by what I said. You already knew this, or?" You let your sentence trail off for him to answer. Damn you and you being close enough with him to pick up what he was feeling. It was really barely turning out to be in his favor.

"Maybe i wanna do something different with my time." He says, voice low and sultry, looking no where but your soft lips that seemed to be begging and calling for him, inviting him in with ease. "Yeah?" You ask, your voice for once not taunting but rather as soft and whispering--- only for the two of you to hear, no wall in between, "And what might that be?" He answers you with a kiss-- soft as his lips, it is. Sucking on you bottom lips so gently you can't help but moan into his mouth. His teeth grazing it so lightly it almost feels like tickling. Soothing and calming as you press yourself closer to him, hand reaching over to rest on his hip bone. spreading warmth and rubbing where you had previously squeezed nearly a month before. The two piles are messy and unruly on his desk and you had planned on picking them up by now but right now you couldn't care less. Noting else on you mind besides his lips and how needy you felt because of them. Because of him. You pull away, just for a second, to look at him. He's beautiful. Handsome beyond belief, really.

And it doesn’t take but a minute to get him hard against you, tent in his pants pressed on you just as before. Without a second thought you push him further into the bed and he pulls his shirt over his head. You scan his body. And your core throbs with need when you see him. His mouth hangs agape as you rub his skin as sensitive nipples. He bucks up into you in search of some sort of friction. It probably wasn’t the best idea to be doing this. He has a date, for fucks sake. And here he was getting his neck kissed by you. But right now, you didn’t really want to think about that. More concerned with getting his lips on yours again. He whines as he tilts his head into the pillows, giving you more access to his neck. “God, you’re like a dog in heat.” You whisper against his skin. He chuckles and runs his hands down, down, and down until finally stopping at our ass. Resting his hands there. You start kissing down his soft body. He’s so lost in the feeling of you that he doesn’t think to control the endless stream of consciousness running out his brain like water out a open tap. “I’m sorry. I’m so so so sorry” he whisperers, words barely heard over pants and little groans he can’t help but let out. He wants you to know how good you make him feel. Couldn’t be anyone else.

“whatre you sorry for, pretty boy?”

You raise your head a little to meet his eyes, belt discarded on the floor along with this pants. He doesn’t look like he wants for answer. And you know, as hard as he is, he isn’t that close. You stop all movements of kisses and hickys on his thighs that nearly shake with want for you to go where he needs you. He tugs you up closer to his face but your shirt, the same shirt that a second later he’s pushing up so he can kiss you tummy and waistline. And as good as his lips on your hipbones feel, you can tell there’s something wrong. You move his hand away from your shirt pushed up to your bra. He looks up at you. This time with more that just lust in his eyes. And that worries you. He seems scared, begging. Not for you to touch him, though. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling—“ you cut him off. “No, but I think you’re feeling some type of way and you’re not telling me.” You start to worry that he’s having second thought about this. I mean, he was supposed be getting ready for someone else. He turns his head away. “It doesn’t really matter.” He says. You scoff. “You’re a bad liar. Now tell me.” You speak softly, thinking it may be something you did. After a second, he realizes that he needs to speak what’s on his mind. It wasn’t going to do either of you any good if he just stayed quiet about it. “Please don’t be mad…” he says quickly. You raise an eyebrow at him-- quite the funny sight if he wasn't a little scared.

you move a little bit off of him, still staying close to give him room to breath, straightening out your shirt. “But it was me.” You looked confused. God why did you have to look to cute when you’re confused. It was really messing his apology speech up. “I’m sorry but it was be who made that Wi-Fi you’re always talking about. It tried— you won’t believe how much I tired to get it off but it won’t let me.” His constant rambling turns into background noise for you. He was the one who did that? All this time he was the one who made you worried that you might get evicted because of noise complaints? “Now, I didn’t completely mean it in a bad way! It’s just, well, i-I hear you?” Why was that a question? Either he did hear you and he liked it like how you wanted, or all this time he’d been putting on headphones and canceling your noise for him out. Shit. Did this have anything to do with our nice he was to you? You felt like you were dreaming. Was the serious? He couldn't have, right? I mean, it wasn't like you were particularly hurt, contrary to popular belief because the guy was still rambling on in front of you. You had to grasp his arm tightly to get him to stop. "huh?" He wonders aloud. "Listen, I have no fucking idea why you'd do that, but I don't hate you for it." You start to laugh,

"In fact, it's even kinda funny." His eyes are questioning, inquisitive, wondering if you really mean what you say. "I was pretty drunk... Not like thats an excuse." He said, still sensing how you must've still felt a little miffed. "I think its my time to ask you whats the matter." He puts a hand on your thigh, trying and succeeding in being comforting to you, when a not so comforting silence falls over the two of you. "...None of this was for some sort of compensation, right?" You ask, feeling your stomach sink, not with the anticipation of what would come after his feverish kisses to your hot skin, but now because... what if he couldn't answer that? What if it took him a minute? That was how you'd know this whole thing wasn't a rooze-- a plan to make you think that it wasn't him. In your heart you knew he wouldn't. As little as youve known him and as much as he was a drama queen, Minghao couldn't do something like that. Not to you, not to anybody.

Y/N!" He genuinely sounded hurt by the even mere suggestion. Then, realizing that, well, he didn't have the right words at the time and that, even if he did words alone might not do much. He gets up with a rush. "Wait, here." He nearly runs out the door, almost forgetting his shirt. "Hao--" You chuckle. Why does he seem so excited ? You wonder. But, just like with everything, he was a wonder. He peeks his head back into the room, reaching for his clothes with a shy smile up at you. His whole face seems to brighten. The last thing you hear is the faint clicking of his belt as he hurries out the bedroom door. He rushes back in the same way he came. But now holding a letter. "I wanted to give you this earlier. But this seems like a better time than anything." He explained, "with the date and everything... I just figured it would look stupid." You open the letter and start to read, it looked half finished. But the paragraph inside tells you all you need to know. In synopsis: he views as someone very special in his life. He cherishes you to the ends of the earth. And with what he's written down, it only solidifies how he'd never do anything to hurt you. Your head starts to turn up before you're even done reading. "Listen I was never that concerned--" "Just like old times--" you both say at the same time. "Sorry, I've been thinking about saying that since I started writing it." He mentions. "I thought so." You said. God, how do I know you so well. He knows he's written something else, but he also know sees you haven't read it yet. He doesn;t say anything, though, preferring to leave you to find it on your own when you're ready. He gestures to you like; and you were saying? "Hao," A feel good shiver runs up his spine at the nickname, "I never was that concerned with it. Sure, it stung a little to know that someone complaining about my apartment." He starts to say something, but you cut him off.

"And I know you're sorry. And I've heard horror stories about your wifi provider before." He smiles at you, beath calming down, not sounding like he's run a race as a second ago. He looks unreal. Other worldly, even. So fucking beautiful. You can't think of another word to describe him. Every single one you've tried seems to be a little off. You werent expecting such an actual explanation. And he didnt just leave it at: "Well, I was drunk so you can't blame me." His actually made sense, too. And, from his track record, and even from today. You could tell he was telling you the truth. One look into those deep brown eyes and you knew that if he had the power to he wouldve long changed it. And if he wasn't drunk he wouldn't have made it. "But there's one thing I don't know... I knew you were drunk, but, anything you'd like to tell me that spurred this on?" You sit there, pulling his body towards yours, starting to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. It was on backwards. He shivers as your fingers graze his heaving stomach. "Yeah." HE says simply, "But not how you think!" You chuckle. "What?" You question, "You don't mind the loud music? So... is there, anything else?" You say it like there could be anything in the world that caused him to make a jab at how "loud your apartment is." "Your noise." HE looks into your eyes, referencing how you'd make yourself cum every night. So close but way to far away from him. He wanted to start rambling about how he doesn't mean tot hear it... but, it looked like, but your smirk you wanted him to. You wanted him to get riled up and desperate for hearing you in person. And thats just what he was. "I'm glad you've finally said something about that. Looks like I've accomplished what I wanted for the year." You breath out a laugh.

So he has unsent letters just like you? You think back to your drawer of your nightstand or the shoebox by your desk. There lay, dormant and gathering dust, all unsent letters. Letter deemed a little too early in the friendship to send, letters describing dreams or thoughts youve had of him where he's been gripping your hips as you rock on hid dick, him begging you for release as you chase your own orgasm, even one letter asking him a stupid question about some show you bother watched, you remembered the answer soon after and diced to start a new one on a fresh sheet on paper. But you still kept it and held onto it like it was a precious gem. Your fingers stop their teasing movements the waistline of his pants and tell him to wait there, same thing he told you. You come back with letters, you more than him. His eyes tell you he's interested. But also: "hold on, you too?" He reads them and smile each time he turns to another. Making little remarks and comments here and there. "You know, there's something else in mine as well." He says, flipping to one of the last ones-- the ones with detail after detail of your conscious when it came to him. About how you wanted to have him and what you wanted him to do to you in your bed. Or his, it didn't really matter as long as it was with you. "Fine. Read the rest of mine though." You say, wanting, no, needing him to know what you thought of him when he wasn't beside you. You eyes flicker down to the arrow to the font of the letter in your lap. You flip it around to see his number, clear as day, staring at you in your face. (With a little note that says: how come we never did this before?) and a little, delicate sketch of the first flower pressing he'd ever given to you whine you mentioned something about them neither of you can really remember. You pressed the note onto your thighs, smoothing it down.

"You know i never minded when you sent me pressings, right?" There was noting to make you think he was about to ask, but something told you it was in the back of his mind. He nods, barely listening as he read the letter about the dream you had about fucking him like both of your lives depend on it.

And with the growing need on your pants it sure felt like it did.-- You call his name a couple times but to no avail. “come back down to earth, angel. I’m not done with you yet” you climb back onto his lap

A second later his lips are on yours. "Fuck," He whines, "You really wanna do all that to me?" He doesn’t sound repulsed at all, he now craves the thought, desire pools in his stomach for him to feel you. All of you. Wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock like how you described. He leans on top of you, making you push down into his plush bed, his mouth more eager than the first two times. You didn't; think that was even possible. You pull away, him left chasing the feeling of your lips on his. It felt so god he'd be happy if he died there. "Call them to cancel?" You beam. A moment after he sends them a quick apologetic text, here he is, grinding into your thighs, trying to fuck himself on the pillowy flesh you so lovingly provide for him. “what is it angel? You wanna be inside me?” You ask him, smiling to yourself as he nods, gulping. Your lips are ghosting over his as you slide down on him. His fingers are inside of you and making you cum in an instant when you drop your pants. Curling and pumping just how you said he did so in your dream. And the instant his cock has sprung out of his pants, ready and waiting for you, you're starting to move in a way that makes you feel like heaven is in your grasp as he swallows your moans with a kiss.

“G-god I—“ his words are cut short as he bucks his hips up into you. The stretch you feel inside your cunt feels fucking amazing. Noting like ever before. lips hovering against his once more as you start slow movements on him, the force of them still making you move from his mouth to his eyes. Slower, now but deep as ever. HE runs his hand up your back, his brain too foggy to think to take off your shirt fully like his-- to match him, fully naked in his bed. It's something he's been dreaming about ever since he first heard you moaning from the wall behind him. even though the condom he can feel every inch of you. You’re so warm and wet and so fucking tight and slippery-- the way he glides in and out of you, always drawing pleasured sounds from the both of you drives him so crazy he can barely take his eyes off of his cock disappearing into your pretty pussy over and over again. fascinated by how a ring of your slick starts to form around his cock, sticky and thick. He wants noting more than to see you lick it off of him. Or for him to get a taste. You fuck yourself on him, not like he wants anything else. He rubs circles on your back, your thighs bare as he grips onto them to ground himself. Your hands fault against his chest for leverage, you seem to never tire of the delicious feeling of him. "What're you sorry for?" You ask him, leaning down to his earlobe and nibbling it. Almost as a reminder of how stupid it all is, you chuckle at his inability to speak when you squeeze his cock particularly tight.

The thought had long done turned into a desire, and you couldn’t have imagined a better action for you two to take.

End~

~before you interact, as with all my other smut posts, please put an age indicator in your bio saying you’re not a minor so I don’t have to block you!~

2023copywrightofshutupheathersorryheather©️ do Not repost my work anywhere, translate it, or anything like that even if you give me credit, no one is anyone allowed to do what is stated above

thank you all so much for readin!! Please leave some love like comments and or reblogs if you liked this! Also I will be coming in to edit this a little very soon so I’m sorry if it’s not good at the moment @jasminexox5 @impuritywritings @jjjzzz @zozjella @mimisxs @itz-yerin @toorauz @daechwitabaddie

(if youre username isnt underlined im sorry that i couldn't tag you! im not sure why but sometimes with tagging it doesn't show up) If you'd like to be a part of my permanent smut and or fluff taglist please comment on this post! if youd like to be a part of my smut taglist please have something in your blog bio telling me youre not a minor thank you! the previous action is not necessary if you want to only be a part of my fluff masterlist. So please specify which one

[rasparagus]

the bus stop on main st.

pairing: minghao x gn!reader

summary: you find comfort in the arms of the man you least expect

wc: one word shy of 2.5k

extras: university!au, enemies2lovers (i guess???), comfort fic i suppose, reader is doin a whole lotta cryin, emotionally unaware minghao, lowkey dumb minghao, angst but honestly barely, fluff

His silence mocked you. Sometimes you wish he would spew a mean remark at you, be truly mean to you; instead, his indifference infuriated you, made you feel unworthy of even a fleeting thought in his mind. Even as you sit here now, you know your mind should be celebrating Seungkwan’s achievements, but your mind can’t help but wander to Minghao’s smug expression.

You remember when you first met him. Minghao, Seungkwan, Chan, and you all sat near each other in a French culture class your freshman year, and naturally when finals season came you guys begrudgingly formed a study group together. Yours and Minghao’s obvious knowledge for the subject prompted the other two to seek guidance from you both. And to be fair, you were happy to help. You had been looking to diversify your friend groups beyond your old high school classmates and the people on your dorm room hallway. It seemed everyone else felt the same—except Minghao. 

The first time you guys met for a study session, you and Joshua arrived to the study room first. Your enthusiastic greeting was met with a dry “Hi,” and any attempt at small talk was thwarted by short, uninteresting responses. Every conversation you had with him gave you the impression that he was perpetually trying to stop talking to you as soon as possible.

“I’m not surprised you and I are the first ones here,” you’d said. “Seungkwan and Chan can’t be on time to save their lives. I mean, haven’t you noticed they always show up to class at least five minutes late. And they don’t even walk together!” 

“I tend to pay attention to the professor, not them.” You halted your giggles and cleared your throat.

“Yeah, me too,” you replied, averting your eyes from him as he peeked at you above the frame of his glasses. Even after the two younger guys showed up, you couldn’t help your face from feeling warm and your hands from shaking whenever you needed to explain a topic.

But that was a year and a half ago. Over time, as the group began to hang out beyond study sessions, the embarrassment dissolved into resentment. Who was he to make you feel inferior? Why should you feel like you’ve been put under a microscope every time you make a silly joke around him? You reasoned that if he would ignore you, you could do the same. This behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Chan and Seungkwan who, both being mood-makers, made it their mission to relax the tension during every group interaction, only to be met with childish silence.

You manage to snap yourself back into reality and away from thoughts of Minghao and his off-putting attitude. It’s the night of Seungkwan’s choral ensemble performance, and he’s invited you, along with a ton of his other friends, to his apartment to celebrate. You’d noticed a few familiar faces upon arriving and chose to sit in the open space between Nayeon and Soonyoung on the couch, catching up with the two friends who you’ve missed due to all of your busy schedules. As soon as your eyes had landed on Minghao sitting on the ground next to a taller man in glasses, your grin momentarily fell and since then, you’ve been making a conscious effort to keep your eyes on the other half of the room. 

When a game of Cards Against Humanity breaks out, you roll your eyes at the cliche party game, but you’re excited to take your mind off of him. Unfortunately, you find yourself taking every turn of his as an opportunity to passive-aggressively place the most insulting card, ignoring every other offensive or taboo card in your hand. And each time, without fail, he manages to pick your card as the winner, despite the anonymity of the cards. You brush off each win with a snarky remark.

“God, how do you manage to win every single time Minghao is the card czar?” Seungcheol asks, throwing his hands in the air with exaggerated exasperation. “Is your humor that similar?”

“You’ll start winning when you really mean what you put down.” Everyone laughs in response, glancing at the white card on the coffee table. Minghao glares at you in response. 

A few more rounds go by and you casually pull your phone out, lazily scrolling through Instagram as every one else shuffles to find an appropriate card. Dino begins to grab the white cards when your thumb stops in its tracks, as your eyes zero in on your ex’s latest Instagram post. Jaehyun is looking lovingly into the eyes of his new partner, with his gently draped across their shoulder. They look happy in a way you never were with him, in a way that you doubt you’re capable of being with anyone. Suddenly, Seungkwan’s living room feels a lot smaller and the air seems a lot thinner. Dino’s comments about this being a throwaway round bring your attention back to the scene in front of you, but your mind refuses to focus on the task at hand. You shove the phone back in your pocket and try to play the next few rounds with the same smile and wit you had before, but your brain is incapable of forming any funny quips. When Minghao’s turn comes and you don’t win the round, a few people joke at your lack of focus; you just shrug and laugh weakly. You don’t even make it a full ten minutes before you excuse yourself in a small voice, saying you need to catch some sleep so you can wake up for an early-morning study session. Minghao eyes you suspiciously as you stand and leave the group while everyone whines at you to stay just one more round. You give Seungkwan your well wishes and leave early, repeating you excuse incessantly, despite his obvious concern. 

“Did something happen?”

You can only find it in yourself to apologize to the host profusely while quickly backing up toward the door. When you walk out you gasp in the humid air, placing your hands on your knees as if you’d just trudged through a marathon. The sun is almost fully set and a misty rain has begun to fall. You start to make the trek back to your own apartment, kicking rocks on the sidewalk as you start your journey. 

By the time you make it to the bus stop, you’re practically sobbing, and you have to force yourself to quiet down every time a stranger passes you. This is the bus stop you used to meet Jaehyun at to walk to campus together. The bus stop where your past lover begged you to believe his loyalty to you despite the clear video’s you’d seen of him kissing another person at some small, dingy house party. The same person whose pretty face stared back at you in his Instagram post. You don’t blame his new partner, and you feel icky for even being slightly envious of them. You know you’re better without him, but you can’t help the suffocating feeling in your chest. Feeling the cold metal of the bench causes the memories to feel ten times more vivid, and your sobs grow more uncontrollable. Since you’ve started walking the misty rain has begun to fall in steady, fat drops. You pull the hood of your jacket taut against your head and look down at your hands, both in self-pity and in an attempt to avoid getting rain in your eyes.

“What the hell? What are you doing out here?” Perfect timing. The one who would revel in your pain most is here to see you at your worst.

“Be real. Am I pathetic?” Instead of responding with a simple yes and moving forward like you expected him to, Minghao takes a seat next to you, leaving less than an inch between his thigh and yours. He moves the umbrella he’s holding to cover your body.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“‘Cus I feel pretty fuckin’ pathetic right now. And you may hate me, but at least you’re honest.”

“Well, no, I don’t think you’re pathetic,” he says. There’s an unfamiliar affection laced in the way he emphasizes his words.

“I’m sitting here crying over a guy that I haven’t spoken to in months. I don’t even like him as a person anymore, but somehow the thought of him being with someone else hurts like hell.”

“That’s natural. You and Jaehyun dated for like a year. And after what he did to you, it’s probably weird to see him happy with someone else.”

“You’re right,” you agree. You pause mid-nod. “I didn’t know you knew anything about me, let alone my terrible dating history.”

“I’m not completely oblivious to you, you know. The whole reason I followed you out here was because I knew you were lying about that study session. You’ve always been a night studier.” Suddenly, the raindrops falling by his feet seem to be more interesting than your eyes, as he lowers his head to avoid your gaze. “And as far as Jaehyun is concerned, it’s pretty hard to ignore your relationship when I’m beating myself up wishing it was me.”

You wipe your teary eyes with a fist and stare at Minghao, eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“Are you confessing to me right now?” Your voice raises in pitch. 

“I guess I am.” He breathes out an airy chuckle.

“Wow. I thought you hated my guts.”

You start to assess every interaction you’ve had with Minghao since the day you met. Somehow along this trip down memory lane, you think of every moment you brought Jaehyun around. How Minghao always seemed to disappear. How Jaehyun would whisper that some prim-looking guy was eyeing him like he wanted to fight—you attributed to “typical Minghao superiority complex” at the time. In the back of your head, you realize you realize that you may liked him this whole time, too. Despite Minghao’s distance you didn’t miss his loving qualities. You observed constantly how he doted on Seungkwan and Chan, making it his personal responsibility that they stayed fed and passed their classes. You noticed the sketches in his notebook, the intricate lines and colors that bled beautifully into each other, and you thought—just for a second—that this was a man capable of understanding love and pain and joy in a way that you didn’t know was possible. Then, you start to self-reflect. You’re not proud of it, but every time you cracked a joke at lunch, you realize you glanced at him, secretly (a secret to him and your own conscious mind) hoping that it would be the first one of yours that elicited a chuckle from him. Every time you announced an accomplishment in the group chat, the bitterness you felt was not merely anger at Minghao’s lack of response; it was a longing to be congratulated by the one whose words you truly valued. Even tonight while playing cards, in the midst of trying to place the most scathing card, you note the way you had to push down a deep desire to see him smile at your jokes.

“You have a pretty terrible way of showing people you like them,” you sniffle, always willing to take a jab at him even when your head aches from the crying.

“I know,” he says. “I wasn’t trying to come off as rude at first. As soon as you walked in for that first study session freshman year, I knew I liked you. But I don’t know,” he sighs and looks at his hands. “The idea of being open about it scared me. You’re so bright and funny, and I’m generally pretty reserved. I didn’t have the confidence in myself to think you could like me back. I know it sounds stupid but—“ 

“Yeah, it is stupid.” You both know there’s no true malice in your words.

“But I thought that distancing myself was the easiest way to cope. If I never talked to you then you wouldn’t know that I liked you. And I could watch you be happy from afar in group settings. It was comfortable being a coward. But it hurt both of us more in the long-run.”

“And here I was thinking you were some wise and rational guy. Look at what the heart will make some people do.” You smile and poke his side. He throws an arm over your shoulder and you lean into him comfortably.

“I’m sorry. I really am. It was childish for me to keep this up for so long and probably make you feel bad in the process.”

“You’re right, but I accept your apology. Believe it or not, despite your very awful ways of showing affection, I came to like you, too. You may be bad at processing feelings, but I’m bad at even recognizing mine. Who knew I was capable of liking Xu Minghao?”

“I’m glad you are.”

“Me too.” You give him a cheesy, love-laced grin. In a fit of confidence and recklessness flowing through your veins you crane your neck to give him a peck on the cheek. You watch him closely as plump lips expand into a wide smile and the hand resting on your arm starts to feel a little clammy against your skin. The two of you giggle as if he hadn’t just found you crying yourself into a frenzy.

“They’re gonna make fun of us so bad aren’t they.”

“They’ve been clowning me since they found out I liked you. Which was like a week after we met. So…be prepared for the worst.” 

As a silence falls between the two of you, Minghao asks a question that brings your attention back to him.

“Can I walk you to your place tonight?”

“You know how many times I’ve gone home drunk from Seungkwan’s by myself. I’m fine, honestly, you should go back to your place and get some rest. It’s not dangerous, really.”

“I know,” he says, looking up at the darkening sky. “I just don’t wanna leave your side just yet.” Your mouth goes dry and your heart flutters. You nod and give him a fake pout, poking fun at his sudden romanticism.

“Well, since we have so much time on our hands,” you muse. “There’s something I’ve always been interested in about you.” Before Minghao can express his confusion in words you follow up with, “your art.”

He smiles shyly before pulling up a hidden photo album on his phone and scrolls through. You decide not to tease about the impressionist sketches and paintings that anyone could tell were modeled after you. Instead, you find yourself content with being next to him, feeling the warmth of his body, taking in the fresh scent of the rain, and allowing the cool metal of the bus stop bench to take on new memories.

a/n: thanks a lot for all the love on the vernon fic. i wont lie i feel a lot less confident about this one than the vernon one. this plot just felt corny and underdeveloped to me. im still working on my plot writing skills so be patient lol im not used to writing long creative things. this fic was edited in a rush so pls let me know if you see anything that needs to be corrected. this lowkey took a lot out of me since i made myself write and edit it so quickly just to get it out of my brain lmao. anyways, this was originally a joshua fic but something made me make it a minghao fic cus he’s just on the brain these days xoxo.

feel free to like, reblog, reply, or send in asks to give feedback <3

[melaninkimchi]

Mornings Like This

Heh long time no see :3 Issa drabble -Dri

p.s I used pinyin because for some reason the Chinese characters wouldn’t show up right so please forgive me<3

Minghao loved mornings like this. Nothing made his heart swell with adoration more than being wrapped up in her serenity.  The crisp autumn breeze from the opened bedroom window accented the fresh linen scent of the curtains and freshly washed sheets. Y/N was still fast asleep; little snores fell from her lips with every breath as she held tightly to his waist. Her hair neatly tied in a green jewel toned satin scarf made up intricate details. Minghao couldn’t stop the grin that forced its way onto his face. Gently, he cuddled closer to her, placing her head on his chest so that she was more comfortable (whom was he kidding? He wanted her impossibly close) Minghao took this time to trace his slender finger along the slope of her nose, her cheekbones, her lips and chin.

“Again Hao?” Y/N asked, voice thick and groggy from sleep. “ I can’t help it Sweetheart,” Minghao replied sheepishly, “ Even when your snoring and slobbering in your sleep I still find you absolutely stunning- ouch!” Y/N smacked his chest playfully, “ Could you not be so greasy this early in the morning?” “ cOuLd YoU nOt bE So GrEaSy ThIs EaRlY iN tHe MoRnInG??” “We gon’ fight! Hao, if you don’t hush so I can go back to sleep!” Y/N shouted trying to sound serious but her smile said otherwise. “Alright Sweetheart I’m done.” He pulled her tighter against his chest and began to slowly stroke her shoulder. “What did you want for breakfast later? Sweetheart-oh.” Y/n quickly fell back asleep in his arms.

Minghao let out a soft gravely chuckle, shaking his head at her, before shifting deeper into the warmth of the sheets. He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead, “Wo ai ni”.

[kpopofcolor]

mobile faq + rules

rules

i won’t write smut about minors, which means mark lee and haechan.

i won’t write about rape, self harm, suicide, domestic abuse, generally triggering topics.

i won’t write member x member, there are other blogs for that. this blog is for poc reader x member

i only write about bts, exo, got7, nct ( u, 127) and seventeen.

blog faq

q. why did you make this blog?

a. because Iim tiredt of the lack of representation of poc in kpop writing. not all of us can be blonde, blue eyed models lol.

q. what do you write/post?

a. texts, scenarios, moodboards, mtls, basically whatever.

q. do you write for [insert your race]?

a. hell yeah, i write for all people of color!

q. what groups do you write for?

a. bts, exo, got7, nct (u and 127), and seventeen

q. boy reader? trans reader? gender non-conforming reader?

a. hell yeah, just specify that in your request. this blog is very lgbt+ friendly!

q. do you deny/delete requests?

a. sometimes but please do not take it personally. nothing against you or your request, i probably just didn’t have the motivation to write it. i try not to delete requests though.

personal faq

q. what race are you?

a. proudly black & latina

q. biases in the groups you write for?

a. yoongi, jongin, bambam, taeyong, and minghao

if you want to know anything else about me or the blog do not hesitate to ask!

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

seventeen drabble coming sooooon

[dootiexcupcake]

The Process

Genre: fantasy, angst, surreal

Warnings: Major character death, potential DPDR trigger so, tw // DPDR

∘₊✧────────────────────────────✧₊∘

You let out a horrified scream and tumble off of your “bed” onto the hard jagged floor. You instinctively wince in pain but stop when you don’t feel or see any cuts or bruises form on your skin. You lift up your shaken body and sit on the floor. Glancing over to the hunk of metal you once were seated on, your face drops as you see that what you initially perceived as a tall large block of metal was a floating sheet of metal. Unsupported, barely thick enough to hold a full mug of coffee. Yet, that’s what you were sleeping on. Body once resting upon it as if it were no different than a slab of concrete.

Where are you?

∘₊✧────────────────────────────✧₊∘

Characters: Park Seonghwa, Kang Yeosang, (mention) Xu Minghao, (mention) Jeonghan

Pairings: Seonghwa x POC!reader

Word count: 3.8K

A\N: I wrote this piece last year on a whim and was sorta proud of it and decided to post it to my tumblr. Apologies for any spelling errors

You violently jolt your body upwards, eyes snapping open as you scope out the unfamiliar surrounding with fervor. Head pounding and your heart rate mimicking the same painful tempo. You do another once-over at the place your in.

The room was dark and loosely resembled a hospital room, well, what a hospital room would look like if it was designed by someone who’s never been to a hospital before. You were sat on a grey elongated slab of metal situated in the middle of the floor. Given the fact that you were sleeping on a cold and uncovered slab of metal for an undetermined amount of time, your body didn’t show any signs of pain or discomfort. As a matter of fact, you’ve never felt more well rested and rejuvenated in your entire life.

You let out a shaky breath into the cold frigid air of the dull grey room.

Turning your head to the right, you’re unexpectedly faced with another presence in the once empty room.

You let out a horrified scream and tumble off of your “bed” onto the hard jagged floor. You instinctively wince in pain but stop when you don’t feel or see any cuts or bruises form on your skin. You lift up your shaken body and sit on the floor. Glancing over to the hunk of metal you once were seated on, your face drops as you see that what you initially perceived as a tall large block of metal was a floating sheet of metal. Unsupported, barely thick enough to hold a full mug of coffee. Yet, that’s what you were sleeping on. Body once resting upon it as if it were no different than a slab of concrete.

Where are you?

You place a shaky hand on the metal bed and raise yourself up to your feet. Given that you haven’t been on your feet in a while your knees began to give way. 

In a matter of seconds, perhaps shorter than that, you feel a pair of strong hands support your back.

You whip around and see that it was the stranger who you were faced with before. Your face contorted into bewilderment seeing him. How he managed to save you in time despite the fact you didn’t see him get up from his chair, or hear his footsteps approach you made a cold shiver roll down your back.

The figure, the man, stares at you. Striking grey eyes peering into your own lifelessly. His thin lips pressed into a permanent frown. Slim body standing with a stillness that unnerved you to your core.

You try to raise your voice to speak, try to ask the man where you are, what your doing here, who he is.

But nothing comes out.

You shut your eyes tightly and suck in a sharp breath through your nose. Hoping that when you open your eyes, you’ll be back home.

1

2

3…

Your eyes burst open and you look around, hoping that your trick worked. 

You take in the sight before you.

You’re in an open field in what seems to be the country side. But there’s something so eerily wrong with it.

The landscape has everything that a meadow would have, green grass blowing in the breeze, trees swaying back and forth in the distance, blue sky stretching over, and the sun shining down on you.

But you don’t feel the breeze that’s making the grass underneath you move.

You don’t hear the rustling leaves in the distance, even though the trees are placed so close together. It’s almost as if they’ve been muted.

And what makes this setting even more strange is the deafening silence. No chirping birds, no howling gust of wind, no sound of human voices echoing through the grassy plane. No sign of life detected anywhere.

“Is this what you wanted.”

You whip your body around at break neck speed to find the source of the voice. Chest heaving as your eyes scan the scene, but ultimately turning up with nothing in sight.

“What?” You mindlessly whisper to yourself.

“This place,” came the reply from over your shoulder.

You let out a shriek and stumbled forward, managing to catch yourself before falling. Your hands were trembling violently, knees threatening to give out, head spinning, heart beating out of your chest.

You gulped audibly and mustered up any bit of courage you had and turned to face the direction the disembodied voice had come from.

It was the man again. Standing with his hands clasped together in front of his stomach. Shoulders perfectly aligned and stiff. Legs pressed tightly together and feet planted in place like a strongly rooted tree. Gazing at you with those eyes that bore into your soul.

“Does it have meaning to you?” His voice deep and tone lifeless.

Your eyebrows furrow at his words. “W-what?” You repeat.

The man blinks slowly at you before responding, “you closed your eyes and were under the impression that doing so would grant you the ability to go back home or to some other place that you find comfort in.” He states, tone never shifting and eyes never pulling away from yours.

“Uh..n-no. I don’t..I never been to this place before.” You responded, visibly trembling from the intensity of this mans stare. It felt like he was analyzing every move you made, like every breath you took was counted by him, each syllable you uttered was under his cold microscope.

“What am I do-“ 

“How long do you think you have?” The man interrupted, gaze getting more intense as he awaited your answer to his bazar question.

You felt your heart drop. Your eyes widen at his sudden inquiry.

“What did you say?” Is all you can mutter out. The man just tilts his head to your response, saying nothing.

“Am I..dead?”

You say the last word silently, fearful of the possibility of this being what you will experience for an eternity in what you assume is the afterlife.

The man finally shows a change of expression, though it happens ever so subtly. He displays a hint of confusion on his features. “No.” Is all he says.

“Th-then where am I! I demand to know where I am!” You weakly demanded the tall man before you for an explanation. The man airs another look of confusion.

“Where do you think you are?” He deadpans. You give the man an incredulous look and feel anger well up inside you at his ridiculous question. “I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking you! Who even are you anyways!?” You yell, your voice bounces around like you were in a fish tank despite the open airiness of the meadow you were supposedly standing in.

The man looks straight at you again and unclasp his hands in front of him. You instinctively tense up and guard yourself with your arms, expecting the unknown.

The man continues to look at you, arms raised and hands gently out stretched. You slowly lower your arms and give him a quizzical look, eyes trained on his hands.

He connects his hands and fold them in a swift and elegant manner, slim fingers seamlessly sliding between one another.

As soon as his fingertips made contact with the back of his hand, you were in a completely different place. No. A different world entirely.

You frantically look around at the new environment you were put in, anxiety spiking as your grasp on this situation got more and more out of hand.

“Wh-what is this?! Where am I now!?” You pant out at the man who still stood there unbothered.

“I assumed a change of bearings would remedy your nerves.” The man said.

You were now in a room that somewhat resembled a throne room. There were sharp geometric shapes molded onto the walls, giving the room an other worldly shape and feel to it.

The walls were plated with a shiny stone like finish to it. You were almost certain that they were made up of gemstones.

You felt your body feel strangely at ease in the new place. Like these walls emitted some kind of strong aura that soothed your soul, despite the anxiety and panic that was vigorously coursing through every fiber of your being moments before. 

You looked back at the man and opened your mouth to speak, “well…yeah. I’m calm now I guess. Can you please just tell me where I am? And who you are? What even is this place? How did I get here?!” You ramble, voice growing higher as more questions started to pile up in your head.

“Yeosang.” The ma- Yeosang abruptly states. 

The new piece of info, though very little, cooled your nerves a bit.

You nod your head slowly, repeating the name in your head over and over, trying to remember if you’ve ever heard that name before. But no luck.

“You don’t know of me. No other human has ever met me before.” He says matter of factly.

“No human?” You repeat to the very human looking man. “Aren’t you human, though?” You reply dumbfounded.

“I am human appearing. I may alter my form in ways that accommodate the needs of those who inquire of my assistance.” Yeosang states.

Inquire? What did you do that required you to go searching for someone, or something, like him? What did you get yourself into? How do you get out of this?

“You truly are at a loss, aren’t you?”

“You can say that..”

“Ah, but there is not much time left for you I fear.”

“S-stop saying stuff like that, man! It freaks me out! What do you even mean by that?”

“Your body lacks the capability to handle the power of this realm. As time continues to ebb away so will your human existence.” Yeosang revealed. 

Yeosang steps closer to you, you tense up again and mentally brace yourself. He rest his cold hand on your shoulder. The air of the room gets cold and heavy. You look into his eyes and have a memory hit you like a ton of bricks.

. . . .

You’re running through a city, feet forcefully smacking down on the sidewalk. Dodging the rubble and debris that scatter the once bustling streets. The large black gauntlets encasing both of your hands swing at your side hurriedly as you desperately try to track down something in the far distance, feet feeling like they aren’t going nearly as fast as you need them to be in this moment. 

You hear a scream and a cry for help coming from the right. You sharply round a corner and fling yourself from the ground into the window of a structurally unsound building. “SEONGHWA! SEONGHWA CAN YOU HEAR ME!” You belt out, praying that you get a response.

“OVER HERE! PLEASE, HELP ME!” You hear a male voice cry out. You dash over to where the voice is located and see a young man with silver hair is trapped underneath a fallen pillar. You rush over and use every ounce of strength in you to lift the pillar off of your teammate. “Nng, I-I cant move it! I cant move my leg!” Seonghwa groans out in pain, You look down and see the state that your friend is in, his leg is twisted and blood slowly seeps through his black jumpsuit. His hair is covered in chips of concrete and various other debris and his face is badly scratched up from fighting enemies and trying to escape.

“C-can you use your gl-“

“Gloves? No, hnng, they’re busted. S-something fell on my hand and broke em’” he grits through his teeth, acute pain washing over his face. Your heart breaks hearing that the gloves Seonghwa made, the very invention he prides himself with, is broken. His gravity gloves (his name not yours) used to displace the gravitational pull of objects and give him make-shift telekinetic powers, the one thing that could save his life right now, was reduced to rubble. 

But your heart shatters seeing your strong willed partner be reduced to this young boy riddled with bruises and body contorted in such awful angles. Watching him try to push through the pain for you makes your eyes water. You shake your head and instead channel those feelings into action by pushing the pillar successfully off your friend. You pick him up as gently as you could and carried him towards the exit of the building. 

Before you could make it to the exit, the integrity of a nearby beam gives out. Causing the front to collapse. You and Seonghwa fall backwards at the force of it. Disregulated, you struggle to stand up again but you feel a sharp pain in your abdomen. You look down and notice that a piece of sharp metal pierced into you, you inhale sharply as you try to pull the metal fragment out of you.

“You’re hurt?” You hear Seonghwas voice behind you. 

“It’s nothing. I’ll get us out of here. I’ll move these beams out the way and we’ll both make it out.” You huff as you strain to move the metal logs out of the way, body getting weak as you use all your might.

“Y/N…” the male weakly says, voice wearing thin with each breath he took.

“It’s ok, Seonghwa! I almost got it, I see an opening forming right here!” You exclaim, as your covered hands pull away another chunk of metal. A medium sized gaping hole fell into place in front of you. You beam, feeling hope swell inside you.

“See! I got it! C’mon I got you!” You rush over to your teammate and see Seonghwa with heavy lidded eyes gaze up at you, head seeming too heavy to lift. Your lips began to quiver at him. You hurried to pick him up and make your way over to your make shift escape, “wait..you go first.” Seonghwa says tiredly. Breath getting more and more shallow. “Hwa, how will I be able to pull you thr-“

“You can! You can…I know you could. Just go first, alright Y/N?” His voice clipping. “Ok, ok I’ll go. I promise I’ll pull you out, ok!” You affirm. “I know you will.” He gives you a weak smile.

You hoist yourself up as carefully as you can and shimmy your way through the hole.

Once you make your way over to the other side you stumble out with a loud thud. You quickly scramble to your feet and look through the hole to find Seonghwa sitting where he was originally. 

“SEONGHWA WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GIVE ME YOUR HAND SO I CAN PULL YOU OUT!” You scream, anger and confusion flowing through you. “Y/N, it’s no use. Just go, save the othe-

“NO! SHUT UP! GIVE ME YOUR HAND NOW!” You forcefully reach your hand through the hole, beckoning your teammate to pull through.

“No, Y/N stop-“

“IM COMING BACK IN, IMMA GET YOU OUTTA THERE-“

“DONT YOU DARE! Y/N LISTEN TO ME!” Seonghwas raspy voice rang out, causing you to shut your mouth. “I won’t make it. I don’t want you to see me d-“ he caught himself, getting choked up at the word, “I don’t want you to see me go like that. I’m begging you to just go and help the others.” Seonghwa pleaded shakily.

You feel tears well up in the corner of your eyes, finally pouring down your cheek. “Oh, no don’t cry my love. You know how much I hate to see you cry.” He wheezes out, a small smile forming on his face.

You cant stop the sob that you let out even if you tried, “please, just let me get you out. You know Jeonghan is a healer! He can fix whatever it is you need to-“

“No! Don’t. Y/n there are so many other people who needs Jeonghans power than I do.” 

“Y/n… please,”

“S-Seonghwa?”

“Please know that I’ll always lo-“ 

A loud creek rang out from within the building. In an instant, the walls surrounding Seonghwa gave out and collapsed inwardly. Blocking out the hole you crawled through in the process.

You let out a guttural scream and fell to the ground. Sobbing violently, you let the grief rack through your body as you wail out Seonghwas name, pleading for him to answer you. Hoping that some miracle happens and he’ll show up.

But he doesn’t.

.

..

…

“He never did, did he?” Yeosang’s dead voice interrupted the scarring memory, sucking you back into reality, or what you assume was “reality”.

You looked up at him, confused as to why you were suddenly on the ground with tears streaming down you face. Were you physically reliving that experience again?

You slowly got up and kept your head hung low. Shoulders feeling like they weigh a ton and chest feeling even heavier.

“Do you now understand why you have sought me out?” The dark hair man asked. You nod your head. “I do. I remember now. Everything.” You muttered. “After Seonghwa-after I lost him, I went back to my team and told them the news. Everyone was devastated, of course. But I…I just couldn’t let it go.” You relay to Yeosang, taking a seat in a chair you weren’t aware was even there. “Seonghwa wasn’t just my teammate who I fought crime with as masked vigilantes. He was the love of my life. We were gonna spend the rest of our lives together..” you begin to choke up, tears threatening to pour out from your eyes. You suck in a deep breath, “But then that was taken away from me. And I couldn’t stand it.” You say clearly, voice starting to balance out. “I remembered Jeonghan said that he knew a guy. Some Wiccan that knows of a ritual that can bring a loved one back from the dead in the same day they died. So..I got desperate.” You explain, exhaling tiredly. 

“I don’t believe in this stuff but, like I said, I was a desperate woman who just watched her fiancé die in front of her so..I was willing. I went over to the guy, HaoHao’s, place and asked for the favor. Got me all set up and, explained the process and, risks and now, here I am.” You finish, even more tired than you were before.

“Yes, here you are. Asking for a very dangerous request.” Yeosang says, raising a brow indirectly asking if you were sure about the next step to this journey.

“Well, what else do I have to lose?” You say weakly, sinking into the chair as the weight on your shoulder grows.

“It would surprise you.” 

“Nothing surprises me anymore, Yeosang.” You say, voice low as your patience runs dry. “I see.” Is all Yeosang says before stepping forward and crouching down in front of you.

“I wish you the best and grant you a life that is fulfilling to you and your Seonghwa.” Yeosang snaps his fingers and everything goes dark.

-

—

——

A loud incessant beeping sounds out and causes your eyes to snap open. You look around and find yourself in front of a stove in a big open kitchen. You look down and see a sad sight of burnt eggs in a pan, you pick up the pan and hurry to find a trash can.

“The bin is next to the fridge, Honey. We moved it, remember?” You hear a familiar voice say behind you. Your body goes cold in realization. You turn on your heels and see him.

“Seonghwa?” You ask In disbelief.

“Good morning, my love!” Seonghwa replies, walking up to you and taking the pan from your hand, giving you a quick kiss to the forehead. You lunge at him and give him a tight hug, fearing that if you let go you’ll lose him again. “Whoa! Someone is clingy today, huh?” The man chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. 

“I missed you. So much.” You say into his chest, breathing in his warm scent.

“Im not going anywhere, baby. What are you talking about? Did you, Jeonghan, and Dino have too much to drink last night?” Seonghwa laughs. You pull back from him and give him a puzzled look, “what? No. Jeonghan and Dino were doing a stakeout last night. Not drinking.” You respond confused that he completely forgot about the mission that he assigned to them.

Seonghwa let’s out another laugh, “oh my word, what are you talking about, Y/N? This sounds like a crazy story Miles would makes up.” He says in between chuckles, your eyes widen at the name Seonghwa just dropped. ‘Miles’ is the name you both said you were going to give your future ki-

“Mommy! Mommy!” A small childlike voice shouted from around the corner of the kitchen. A small boy, no older than 5 ran up to you and hugged your leg with his small arms. “There he is!” Seonghwa announced as he lifted the boy into his arms. “Good morning, mama!” The boy, Miles, greeted with a wide snaggle tooth smile.

“G-good morning…sweetheart?” You reply unsure of what was going on around you.

“Ok Miles, mommy isn’t feeling to good. How about you go brush your teeth before breakfast, ok?” Seonghwa sets your son down and sends the boy off.

Seonghwa furrows his brows at you, growing more and more concerned with your behavior. “Hey, are you feeling alright? Is it morning sickness?” He lays a hand on the large bump on your stomach that you weren’t aware of in the beginning. 

“Oh my God!” You gasp out hand clasping over your mouth. “Hey, hey, hey! It’s alright! Come here, sit down.” Seonghwa guides you over to a sofa and sits down next to you, placing the back of his hand over your forehead. “Ooh, you’re burning up! Here, I’ll get you a glass of water. Who knew you would have such intense symptoms carrying twins, huh?” He smiles at you and then makes his way over to the kitchen. You lull your head back in exhaustion. What. Is happening?

You feel a vibration on your leg and instinctively go in to feel it. You pull out your phone and observe the wallpaper that was set, it’s a lovely family photo of you and Seonghwa standing next to each other, smiling brightly at the camera with your little boy, Miles, smiling ear to ear while staring at both of you. You feel your heart flutter at the picture, but then your face drops when you see the message that caused you to open your phone in the first place.

“Hello! We thank you so much for using our services. We hope that you enjoy your new established well lived life and wish you nothing but the best!

I wish you the best and grant you a life that is fulfilling to you and your Seonghwa.

- Yeo and Hao.”

∘₊✧────────────────────────────✧₊∘

Atz m.list | Main m.list