#I’m supposed to be getting my things together for the beginning of the semester on Monday but I think I’ll draw more Ken instead
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Open Heart
❣ Summary: When you don't know what to say or do, when life starts living you, you can always rely on Chris to bring you back. ❣
❣ Word Count: 3.2k
❣ Warnings: Mental breakdown, existential crisis, implied panic attack, angst, fluff, comfort, crying, Supportive BF! Chris, Reader is a mess mentally and emotionally, discussions of family, careers, life, and the future, self doubt, self deprecation, mentioned disassociation ❣
❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣
❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Christopher, and Christopher Bahng [wowie], Reader is referred to as Princess, Baby, Love, Sweet Girl, this is the one that's personal so I'm sorry if you can relate but also you're not alone
❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
“Yeah, dad, I know... Mhm... No, I haven’t heard back from them yet, but it’s only been a week since I applied so... Yeah, I know…”
You paced the living room of your apartment, holding your phone to your ear as you did your best to tame the headache brewing in your head.
“I know you do, it’s just - there’s so many things I can do with my degree, I’m just trying to figure out what I want to do... I know... Yeah... Okay... Talk to you later... Love you too, bye.”
Ending the call, you tossed your phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh - the weight of the world piling on top of stress already weighing on your shoulders.
Everything sucked - almost as if the world was out to get you for simply existing; years of doing what was right, doing what you were supposed to, only for you to still feel like you weren’t doing enough.
People pleasing.
A wave of guilt made your stomach turn, tears stinging behind your eyes as you stood in the silence, yet it still felt so loud.
You knew your dad meant well, your parents meant well, your family meant well, but every question, every poorly veiled nudge of ‘What’s your next big move going to be? You’ve been stagnant for so long.’ ate at your psyche at every turn. You felt like you did everything; you graduated high school in the high percentage of your class, you went to college, you graduated as a first generation student after five excruciatingly long years - yet through all that they still wanted more from you.
A pleasure to have known. You have so much potential.
If you had a dime for the amount of times you’ve heard those words, you would’ve been a millionaire by now.
A shaky breath rattled in your chest as you sighed, your hands rising to cup your rapidly heating face. “Fuck... F-Fuck.”
Your vision blurred, salty tears stinging your eyes before burning fiery trails down your cheeks with no signs of stopping.
When was it going to be enough? When were you going to be enough?
Your breath hitched, choking on a sob that your body refused to let go - not now, not right now. You were still young, you had so much potential - so why did it feel like you were being rushed? Why did it feel like everyone saw some invisible clock above you, counting down the days until you’d become useless?
Wasted potential - those words always used to scare you, the famous buzzwords of any educator wanting to instill proper work ethic in their students; the future of the workforce.
Wasted potential - that’s what you were beginning to feel at your 9-5; a quaint little job you kept throughout your final semester, something that got the bills paid and kept a little more in your savings.
Wasted potential - that’s what you felt when your days began blending together, when you realized disassociation was your coping mechanism until your mouse hovered over ‘clock out’.
You wanted to do so much, so much, but there was never enough time in the day - they were never ideas that would earn you a proper living wage, a career path your family wouldn’t agree with.
Your body shook as a sob finally tore through your silent cries, your head throbbing as air tried to force its way into your lungs - crying never used to hurt like this.
Your world spun, it felt like time froze while speeding up, but all you could do was cry - stand in your living room and cry like a reprimanded child because you weren’t doing what you were supposed to.
“Princess?”
Your eyes snapped open behind your fingers, quickly registering a bigger, warmer pair wrapping around your wrists.
“Baby, can you hear me?”
Guilt.
Chris was home early, and instead of relaxing like he deserved, he now had to tend to you - crying over the same thing you cried over four months ago.
He felt you tense, he could see the spiral of overthinking, and his grip tightened, “Hey, hey, it’s just me - it’s just me, princess.”
You sniffled, biting back another sob as you shook your head, “’M s-sorry-”
“Shh, don’t apologize - you don’t have to apologize, not to me, not for this.”
Understanding - he was always so good at that, making sure you knew you weren’t the problem of anything; he always joked he got better at it from you.
Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips.
“I- It’s- I can’t- And- It’s just so-”
Chris pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cradled the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing circles just behind your ear. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay - I’m here, you’re okay.”
He blinked away his own tears, the sounds of your cries breaking his heart when he entered the apartment, and now the feeling of your body shaking against his like a fall leaf utterly tearing him apart inside.
You weren’t sure how long you both stood there, him whispering words of comfort in your ear while you stained his black hoodie with your tears, but you slowly came out of your breakdown with uneven breaths - your hands holding onto his hoodie as if he was your lifeline.
He was your lifeline.
“Can we go to the bedroom, princess? Can we manage that?” He cooed softly, a soft smile settling on his lips as he felt you nod. “Okay, we’ll go slow, yeah?”
True to his word, he slowly led you into the bedroom with shuffling steps, noting how you clung to him like a baby koala, as if you separated from him at any point you’d float away into space.
Sitting on the bed first, he scooted toward the middle of the mattress and you quickly followed suit; crawling toward him before laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his while he pulled you into his side.
It was quiet, save for the occasional hiccuped breath and sniffle, the sound of his heartbeat slowing the thudding in your own head, the rise and fall of his chest reminding you how to breathe again.
“Love?”
You hummed softly, your free hand nonchalantly playing with the drawstring of his hoodie.
“Wanna talk about what happened?”
Dropping your hand to lay flat on his chest, you took a deep breath to fight back another round of tears threatening to come out. “I... My dad called to check in, see how we were doing and all... He wanted to know if I found a different job yet, one that uses my degree, and I told him I hadn’t.” Swallowing thickly, you squeezed your eyes shut as you continued, “He’s worried that I’m not using my full potential, that I’m not getting paid what I should - and I don’t blame him, really, I went to college for a reason and everything, but it just feels like I'm being rushed into making another decision I’m not ready for."
“Another decision like picking your major?” Chris chimed in - he’d remembered you telling him about your realization of wanting to switch majors in your junior year, but ultimately choosing not to since you were close to graduating at the time.
You nodded, “I know he means well, I love my dad, I love my family, but it just feels like they don’t understand that I'm just...tired. I’m so, so tired that the idea of getting a new job - when I’ve only been at this one for just over a year - makes me feel like I can’t breathe. Fuck, the fact that I’ve been at this job for a year makes my skin crawl because this isn't what I want.”
Picking mindlessly at a few cotton pills collected on the fabric of his hoodie, a heavy sigh escaped you, “I feel like all I’ve been doing my whole life is performing for other people, catering to other people, to the point that I don’t even know who I am. I’ve always been told all these great things about myself, but-” A hot tear rolled across the bridge of your nose, “I don’t believe them, at all. Everyone sees all this potential in me and it drives me crazy because I don’t see potential in myself.”
Your name rolled off of his tongue softly, with so much care and gentleness that it made your heart hurt more because he’d been part of the crowd singing your praises and you practically confessed that you didn’t believe him.
“Princess, my sweet, sweet girl…”
“C-Chris, I’m-”
“Please,” he cut you off with a gentle squeeze, “you already know what I’m gonna say if the next words out of that pretty mouth of yours are ‘I’m sorry’.”
Sighing softly, you accepted that fate as his right hand slid down your arm to take your hand in his, another gentle squeeze to remind you that he’s right here.
“I just... I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Well,” Chris hummed softly, taking in the way your smaller fingers threaded between his own, “what is it you want to do?”
It was almost as if you stopped breathing, guilt and shame swirling around in your head at his question - the golden question everyone had, but never got the full answer to.
“...open heart?”
This time it was Chris’s turn to falter, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your tear stained face. “Open heart, princess, always.”
Open heart, something you’d both established years ago in your relationship as a way of asking for full attention - reestablishing that you both were in a safe space with zero judgment, remaining heart to heart with one another.
“I-” You paused, fighting against the will of your mind wanting to keep yourself protected, from being seen. “I... I don't want to do anything…”
Before he even had the chance to breathe, you jumped into the defensive, “A-And I know that’s stupid- I’m in such a position so early on in my life and there’s so much I can do, but, baby, I’m at a point right now that I can’t see myself working a 9-5 for the next month, let alone another 40-or so years of my life!” Panic quickly began to set in as your thoughts ran a mile a minute, your brain begging you to stop but your heart pleading for you to get rid of this weight. “I can’t be a girl boss, I don’t want to be independent, I-I just wanna be taken care of and loved and supported - I wanna take care of all the things at home and be the one helping you reset after those stressful days. I wanna learn about myself and my hobbies and discover what kind of person I really am underneath all of these learned traits. And I’m sorry, I know, it’s pathetic, it’s shameful, it’s selfish to want to put all of this onto you-”
The sound of your name falling firm from his lips stopped you in your tracks, your blood running cold as you laid as still as you could be against him.
“Open heart means we can’t speak for each other, remember that rule?” His tone was softer, light and teasing, quelling the tinge of fear spoiling every word you spoke as you nodded. “Okay, good - now, can I say something, or would you like to continue?”
“Please say something, Channie.”
“Alright, first and foremost, don’t ever, ever call anything you want ‘stupid’ - your desires are what make you you, and that includes wanting that 24-inch green matcha squishmallow.”
He felt your body shake - short laugh, a huff of air, a sign that he was breaking through.
“Second, I don’t think you wanting to be provided for is pathetic or shameful or selfish - it takes a strong person to admit that, and at the end of the day I think that’s what everyone wants in their own special form; somewhere they feel safe, cared for, loved. And, you’re not putting it all on me,” he felt you tense, but his hand held firm to yours, “because I want to be that for you. I want to provide for you, take care of you, handle all the things that are too big and scary for you to figure out on your own. I want to give you the freedom to explore and be yourself, pursue what you want and don’t want to do - and if that makes you ‘selfish’ then, princess, I’m the most selfish person of them all.”
“You-” your voice cracked, throat raw and sore, “You don’t mean that, baby, please-”
“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you up with him as he sat up before tapping your thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap - and once you were situated, he cupped your face in his hands, “I would never lie to you, you hear me? Since the day we met I knew I wanted to do everything in my power to care for you, even when we were just friends and you would join the kids in teasing me about how old I was even though you weren’t too far off yourself.”
Your pouted lips morphed into a sad smile and he had to stop himself from cooing over how cute you looked, even with puffy eyes and an even puffier face.
“Plus, I’ve been taking care of seven other people for the better half of five years, what makes you think I don’t want to do the same for the love of my life?”
Teary eyes searched his for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was overflowing truth and love, a fresh breath of acceptance cooling your lungs like drinking ice water after eating a mint.
“Open heart?” You murmured softly, taking his hands in your own before pulling them off of your, embarrassingly sore, face.
He nodded, ducking his head to press a fleeting kiss to your knuckles.
“I was always a little jealous of you, you know that?”
“Me?!”
The shocked squeak in his voice made a giggle, a genuine giggle, bubble up inside of you and you nodded in earnest.
“Yeah, you. I always felt like I was so far behind everyone around me when it came to having their passions in order, having their lives in order, and when I met you all I could think about was how sure of yourself you were - how you were able to follow through and actually do what you love for a living not only because people around you supported you, but because you believed in yourself.” Dropping your gaze to your entwined hands, you traced your thumbs along his knuckles, “You always knew what you wanted and you worked toward it - I always wished I could be like that, I still do.”
“Baby, you know you can’t-”
“-compare my life to yours, yeah, yeah, I know.”
He didn’t miss the lilt of playfulness highlighting your words, a smile finding its way to his face as he shot you a lighthearted glare, “No mocking! But, really, you shouldn’t - we come from completely different backgrounds, and if anything I’m more jealous of you than you are of me; there’s so many things you’ve done that I haven’t had the chance to experience.”
You let out an incredulous scoff, tilting your head inquisitively, “Like what? Work a draining part time job in the food industry?”
“Yes!” Though he was laughing, you could still hear the serious notes in his voice, “You got to work retail, you went on family vacations whenever you wanted, you fucking graduated college before I did!”
“Okay, first of all, all of my horror stories should deter you from ever wanting to become a retail employee in your near future!” Dropping his hand, you poked him in the chest with a faux glare, “Second, I guess you’ve got me there - between how often I’ve seen my family compared to you, I do win that spot… But that last one you definitely have over me, Mr. Double Major!”
“Oh shut up - you’re a graduate, I’m still in classes; you didn’t have to go from having practice at 8 but an exam due at 8:30, while still needing two demo tracks ready for the first listen at 10!”
The two of you dissolved into a mess of giggles and smiles, whatever tension remained melting away with each melodic sound that escaped you.
“Princess?”
You hummed, a soft smile settling on your lips, “Yeah, Channie?”
“Open heart,” Chris started warmly, deep brown eyes sparkling with a love only you could know, “I want you to know that I meant every word I said - I do want to take care of you, physically, mentally, financially, whatever way you’ll let me. And - not to sound cocky or anything, but I definitely make enough to support the both of us with no issue. Aside from that, I want to build a life with you - so if that life includes you being the hottest stay at home wife then it’s the best life I could’ve ever asked for because you’re in it.”
A wave of heat rushed over you as butterflies erupted in your stomach, “Stay at home wife, hm?”
Of course, you paid attention to everything else he said, but you didn’t think you’d be able to say anything on it without bursting into tears again.
“Would you prefer stay at home mom? I mean, you’ve already got seven kids calling you it anyways - and I can’t lie, it does have a nice ring to it.” He grinned, releasing your other hand to wind his arms around your waist, scooting your body closer to his.
Rolling your eyes at his less than subtle tease, you snaked your arms around his shoulders, nails playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, “Let’s just start with stay at home girlfriend and see where we go from there, yeah?”
“So you’ll quit tomorrow?”
“Christopher!” You stood no chance in holding back the burst of laughter that escaped you, narrowly avoiding knocking your head against his as you shook with unabashed giggles, “Tomorrow? You sound like you’ve been waiting for this confession to come!”
“Baby, I was one more angry rant of your supervisor ‘springing last minute work onto you’ away from quitting for you.”
Reeling yourself back in, you leaned forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss, your world finally feeling like the pieces were slowly falling into place - or, at the very least, revealing themselves to you. “I love you, Christopher Bahng, wholly and truthfully, there’s no words in the entire galaxy to express how much you mean to me.”
He held you tight, pressing his forehead against yours with a soft sigh, “I love you more, more than you ever know, more than all the stars in this universe and the next. Whatever you decide, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you - just say the word.”
“Does that include ordering takeout for dinner tonight so we can keep cuddling?”
“Find a menu while I change?”
“Order it while I wash my face?”
“Deal.”
Everything sucked, sure, and there was still much left to figure out - but with Chris by your side, you realized that things could get better with an open mind and an open heart.
#stray kids angst#skz angst#bang chan x reader#bangchan x reader#bang chan angst#bangchan angst#bang chan fluff#bangchan fluff#tw mental health#mental health tw
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only lovers alive
song mingi x reader
synopsis: you return back home after graduating college to a new relationship you have to navigate with your childhood best friend
warnings: smut, a lot of mentions of sexual acts, drinking, insecurities, jealousy, dirty talk, phone sex, sort of (very brief) exhibitionism, gender neutral reader
word count: 20,3k
notes: hello. i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 1-2 years and saw a tweet that said ”i’d pick you up from the airport in every universe” and decided to let this out of jail bc of that. although the fic itself is inspired by this song. fic title comes from this song. i’m gonna schedule this to post while i’m asleep because i’m terrified to post after not being on here for such a long time. please be gentle with me >:(
It’s dark outside your window, but the streets are lit up by countless glimmering lights. Even though the day is turning into night, there’s still plenty of traffic. Beaming headlights join the streams of light from street lamps, and it’s just your apartment that is missing a glow from a lamp on its windowsill. You’ve got all yours packed up and sent away already, and you’re taking in the city for the last time.
”Are you going to miss it?” Mingis's voice is soft on the other end of the phone. You’ve got him on speaker, lying right next to you.
”I guess, yeah. It’s been nice, even though I haven’t spent much time exploring or enjoying the city.”
It’s true. You’ve just finished your last semester and finally graduated after moving hours away from your hometown to go to your dream school. It feels like eons since then, when you had to say tearful goodbyes to your friends and family and settle down in a cramped little dorm room. You’d been lucky enough to get student housing in your last year, a bigger place where you’d been living for the past two semesters. This city wasn’t just a stark difference to your hometown, it was the definition of complete and total opposite.
The town you grew up in was the type to hide, not really forgotten, just barely there. Small and tucked away between long stretches of forests and fields. You’d be blessed to live there your whole life, yet lucky to get away. You’d go home to visit during summer break and just bask in how simple life was back home, but beyond all, how it was still home to all the things you held most dear. Top of that list: Mingi.
”You’ll always be able to go back, maybe we can go during the summer and you can take me to that Chinese place you’ve talked so much about,” Mingi says. He’s starting to sound a little sleepy, and it’s a reminder that you should probably get to sleep soon. You’ve got an early flight to catch, then it’s just a span of a few hours separating you and Mingi. He’ll be coming to pick you up, so you suppose you better let him go too so he can get some sleep.
”You know I’d love that,” you smile, and slump down on your bed. ”I think we should head to bed though, maybe we should leave this future talk for some other time.”
He hums in agreement, and the line goes quiet for a minute. You can hear his breathing through the speaker, slow and steady. When you close your eyes it’s almost like he’s here.
”Hey, uh,” he begins, and he swallows audibly. ”Do you think it’s gonna be weird?”
Ah, there it is. You’ve almost been waiting, expecting, him to ask it.
”No, I don’t… It’s not like we haven’t seen each other since I moved away. We’ve spent almost all of the last three summers together, right?” you reason. It’s not really what Mingi is referring to, but you have to start somewhere. Soften him up, reassure him.
”Well yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just different because we weren’t doing those things then, and now it’s… well, different.”
”Mingi,” you say with firmness in your voice. ”It would only be different if you said and did all those things just because it was over the phone. If you didn’t mean any of it.”
Mingi takes another moment of silence, and you can imagine that he’s probably chewing nervously on his bottom lip. It makes you a bit nervous as well, the fact that you can’t see him. You’d always been so good at reading his face and figuring out what he was thinking. You need that more than ever now, the ability to read him, because so much has changed.
”I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said,” he says, and something about the words feels so heavy and serious, and he seems to realize it too. ”I really, really want to fuck you, not just over the phone.”
Mingis voice is normal when he says it, not a hint of underlying desire or desperation, but the words themselves send a flash of warmth through your body. It’s become regular at this point, this shift in your friendship. The first time you guys crossed over that invisible line had been under the influence of alcohol, you had come home drunk from the bar after celebrating good test results with some friends and Mingi had been celebrating getting a new job with your mutual friends back at home. It just sort of happened, you dialing his number and gushing about how much you missed him. The conversation went on for half an hour when you started trying to undress from your bar clothes and Mingi had asked what you were doing. He’d asked about what you were wearing, and what color your underwear was, then he informed you that he was just in his boxers, and for some reason you found yourself telling him about how sexually frustrated you had been lately in hopes that he’d offer help. And he did.
That first night it was quick and needy, neither of you initiated it, it just happened in perfect symbiosis. You checked the call log the day after and saw that you guys had been on the phone for hours, the last of which you had both eventually fallen asleep on call until your phone battery died. Tentatively, you had called him during the afternoon and asked him if he had any recollection of yesterday night's events. His voice had been raspy and breathy, throat raw from drinking and moaning, and you can still remember every inflection in the tone of his voice when he asked if you had liked it. That had been the start of it all, of an almost full year of phone sex, sexting, and swapping pictures.
”I’m glad to hear that,” you say, trying to sound just as casual even though you can feel butterflies swirl through your stomach. ”I really can’t wait, Mingi. Can’t wait to fuck you and can’t wait to see you, I’ve missed you so much.”
”I’ve missed you too… Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport, just look for a handsome tall guy!”
You fall asleep with Mingis laugh ringing in your ears.
The next day, your plane lands at a far emptier airport than the one you’d set off from. It’s early in the day and the sun is high in the sky, occasionally passing behind weak and thin clouds. The air is so different out here than in the big city. The sounds are clearer, the people are kinder, and everything feels so much more simple here.
You sit on a hard airport bench and wait as your phone connects to the internet after having been turned off, seeing all your missed messages coming in. You’re just about to type up a response to Mingis ’You there?’ when a call from him pops up on the screen.
”Yeah, I’m here!” you chirp into the phone.
”’Here’ where? I’m just walking around and-”
”Mingi, you idiot, turn around!” you call out loud enough for him to hear it on the phone and in person, though he’s quite a distance away from you. You could recognize the back of his head anywhere, even though it’s short and bleached blond right now, it’s undeniably Mingi.
He spins around and spots you right away, making eye contact with you across the big, open space. Seeing Mingi in person for the first time in months washes away all nervosity, all the same as it stirs up a new sense of anticipation. You jump to your feet and you're both rushing towards each other, crashing together in a tight hug.
You find yourself closing your eyes, tucking your head into his chest, and inhaling his scent until it makes you lightheaded. He smells just like your Mingi, that same cologne he’s worn since he was 15, the same laundry detergent, and he smells faintly of sunscreen. It’s not the first time you’ve hugged him, not by a long shot, but it feels like the first time you’ve held him like this. Your arms around his middle, taking note of how big he feels in your hold, and you’re thinking about every little detail you’ve missed out on by being away from him. His warmth, his touch, his size, his voice.
”Hi there,” he murmurs, and his voice is so different up close. It’s deeper and darker, it reverberates through his chest. ”Was the flight okay?”
Something about the conversation he’s initiating makes you feel like now is the appropriate time to pull away, and that in turn has you questioning how appropriate that hug had been on your part. Mingi, however, feels cool as ice when he grabs hold of your bag and slings his arm around your shoulder to guide you out of the airport.
”Uh,” you begin, feeling a bit stumped. You continue, ”It was as good as you can expect, but the food sucked, I can’t wait to get home and eat my mom's cooking.”
”Tired of ramen and takeout?” he asks, chuckling.
”You could say that.”
You try to move on past your own weirdness. Mingi is normal and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be as well. Still, there’s a sort of buzz igniting under your skin from being in Mingi's presence again. You suppose it’s always like that, this initial excitement of seeing each other again and getting to update each other on all the things you’ve been up to while knowing you’ve got all the time in the world to hang out. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of your head that is frantically going through all the conversations you’ve had with Mingi on the phone. Late at night, underneath your covers, with Mingi moaning and speaking filth on the speaker. It doesn’t match up with the Mingi in front of you, the Mingi that has been your closest friend for years, and it makes you feel electric.
Mingi pops his trunk open and you load your bags into his car, then get inside and start the half-hour drive back to your hometown.
You only dare to steal little glances over at him. Watching him in the rearview mirror, seeing the sun set his brown eyes ablaze and paint his skin golden. His fingers strum along to the song on the radio on the steering wheel, he’s wearing a single ring on his right hand and his skin is already tanned even though summer has just begun. It’s almost like you’re meeting him all over again with the way you’re soaking in every inch of him, yet it’s forcefully clear to you that none of this is new. Perhaps that would have made it easier if he had just been a stranger where the slate was clean, but this is Mingi and there are things you’re both gonna need to navigate.
You’d foolishly expected that he’d lean in and steal at least a kiss but perhaps more right away, when you were still parked at the airport. More accurately, you had hoped so. It’s all you guys had been talking about for the past months, all the ways you’d want to ravage each other when you finally were face to face again. Apparently, Mingi thinks that can wait.
So you turn your head away, try not to look over at him or imagine his hand holding your thigh instead of the steering wheel. Instead, you focus your attention on the trees outside, and Talking Heads on the radio.
”Do you still like this song?” Mingi asks you. He takes a turn, and this is where the road gets lonesome and there’s more nature than buildings. The song playing is ’This Must be the Place’, and you know Mingi is asking because you’d been the one that bought him this CD for his birthday.
”I could never outgrow Talking Heads, you know that,” you smile at him. You’re starting to settle in now. The fields and the trees are so familiar, the air smells like your childhood, and Mingi is humming along to music you’ve listened to for years. You can do this, it’s not going to be weird, it’s still your best friend Mingi.
The ride back home starts to fill up with idle chatter. You’d think that you’d have run out of topics to talk about by now, seeing as you’d talk on the phone almost every day, but you still find new things to bring up. He parks his car in the driveway outside your house and helps you carry your luggage, all while giggling and joking with you.
It’s only been a year since you’ve been home, you hadn’t been able to come during Christmas, but that’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent away from this very house. Not much has changed, your parents have kept your room exactly like you had left it, but something just feels different. It feels smaller, or you feel bigger. You catch a glimpse of Mingi in your doorway as you start unpacking your bags and for a second your abdomen flutters when you notice just how much of the door opening he can shield with his body. He has filled out a lot, and this shouldn’t be a surprise because you’d noticed it plenty of times before when you came home to visit. You suppose it’s not a surprise, but it’s the first time you’ve felt appreciation for it.
Of course, you had fantasized about his body since you entered his whole thing, and he had sent a lot of pictures that had helped you out with that, but seeing it in person is an entirely new ordeal. You feel your face heat up as your mind flicks through memories of pictures he’s sent you of himself naked, knowing what he looks like underneath his clothes. You have to wonder if Mingis mind is running in the same circles, if he’s as hyperaware of your skin as you are of his, and how he’s able to contain himself as well as he does if that’s the case. You hardly can’t.
”So,” Mingi begins. Your stomach lurches and plunges every time he pauses between words, fearing what may come next. Maybe this is when he breaks your heart and tells you he can’t do what you’ve been speaking about, that it’s just not the same when you’re face to face. You try to seem unbothered by your racing thoughts and decide to hear him out first. He continues, ”Uh, what now? Do you need any more help?”
”No, I’m all good, Mingi,” You’re rifling through clothes and belongings, lining them up on your bed. You can physically feel him behind you in your room as if he’s radiating this electricity and warmth that has your skin tingling.
”Maybe I should get going then. You know, to let you settle in.” You can hear him shift his weight between his feet. It suddenly feels unbearably awkward and strained between you two, and you know that if you keep your back to him it will only get worse. You need to face this head-on, cut through the tension, or at least pretend like the heavy atmosphere isn’t weighing you down.
You don’t want to let Mingi leave like this, without either one of you addressing things. If he leaves like this, with things unspoken and forgotten, the next time you see him it will be like nothing has ever happened. He’ll be right next to you but somehow further away than ever.
You guess you shouldn’t have expected to jump each other's bones the second you saw each other. Maybe that was unrealistic, but it had just felt that way on the phone. You suppose this is more natural, maybe you just have to stick it out until you’re used to being in the same room.
This Mingi in front of you is an entire world different than the one you’d grown up with. Despite the fact that everything is the same, that he’s in your childhood room and the sun is shining through the window just the same. The beam of light illuminates him directly, making his tan skin radiate.
You’re admiring him when he steps forward and closes the distance between you. Only the birds are singing outside your window, but in the total silence of your room, you can hear Mingi suck in a shaky breath before he leans forward and kisses you.
Time stills, the earth feels like it’s tilting or tipping, as if the very makeup of the universe is now irreversibly changed. Mingis mouth is warm and gentle but he’s keeping a pressure that has your mind whirling, just the way he’s kissing you with so much intent. You’re both breathing heavily and the air escaping his nose is so sweet that you can’t stop yourself from inhaling as much as possible, dizzying yourself to consume every bit of him that you can.
He’s already close, but he shuffles even nearer without breaking apart from the kiss. You can now feel his body against yours and Mingi moves his hands up to hold each side of your head, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks into your mouth. For some reason you’re so very present inside your head, thinking about each little detail of the way he kisses, reminding yourself to remember this moment forever.
You can feel when he starts to pull away so you chase after him, deepening the kiss for another second before he parts from it entirely. He’s just as breathless as you are, and there’s something in Mingi's eyes that you’ve never seen before. He focuses on your lips and leans in for another kiss that ends a moment too quickly.
Mingis hand ruffles your hair up, and his voice is laced with a laugh when he says a drawn-out ’bye’ and leaves your room.
You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, can hear the blood pumping and wooshing from it all the way through your body, throughout each delicate vein in your ears. Your lips are tingling when you reach up to touch them, almost in disbelief at the fact that Mingi had just been kissing you right there. Your mouth is slick with his spit, and your finger moves cardinally to gather it up and plunge into your mouth so you can savor it.
You fall down on the bed, staring up at your ceiling, and close your eyes to relive the kiss as you imagine what it will be like the next time you see Mingi.
Almost a full week passes until you see him again. Your family practically swarms you for the first few days, your parents being overjoyed to have you back invite your grandparents to welcome you home and your favorite aunt comes to see you with your two young cousins. You get unpacked quickly enough, when you manage to find time between family visits and long drawn-out meals, and before you know it five days have passed. Mingi stays busy too though, he sends a few occasional texts about work and though he lives right across from you, you never even catch a glimpse of him.
Sometimes you lay in your bed at night and feel your heart race up at the thought that there is only a few yards of grass and asphalt road between the two of you. It’s a massive change from the last three years when you had been miles and miles apart. Now, it feels almost like you can sense him. Just across the street, breathing and shuffling in bed. You can picture him so well, long eyelashes resting against his cheekbone, his skin flushed from sleep, his long limbs tangled up in a thin blanket. Your hand slips inside your underwear with a hot fire fueled by embarrassment and insecurity burning in your stomach.
Your imagination moves between recollections of words he’s spoken and pictures he’s sent, to the image of him in his bed right now. He’s so very close, but so very unaware of how much that precise fact affects you. Each day away from him only tightens the strings in your body and you grow more frustrated that you haven’t actualized any of the promises you’d made on the phone. At the same time, you find yourself quietly thankful for the imposed distance. Mingi isn’t even here, but he still has such an impact on you that it has you rushedly getting yourself off with your face buried in your pillow to keep quiet.
You’re so deeply affected by all this, while Mingi is fine. You’re the one busy, but when Mingi comes home from work and has some downtime he doesn’t even text to see if you can spend time. Seemingly, he doesn’t care to find out when you can see each other again.
On day six you’re sitting in your garden with your mom and aunt. Your cousins are playing in the grass in front of you and calling for your attention. The sun is high and hot in the sky, and Mingis car has been home for a few hours. You’ve checked your phone multiple times to make sure it’s not on silent, or if you’ve somehow missed a text from him, but it’s been quiet all day.
Then, a car pulls up to Mingi's house. You recognize it in an instant, it’s Yunhos old Camaro that he had inherited from his dad when he got his license, the same car he’d posted a thousand pictures of on social media. He had even let you drive it for an entire block two summers ago. The paint job has sparkles of blue in it that glimmer in the sun, and you somehow feel like it’s taunting you. The front door of Mingis house opens and he emerges in a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt that he has cut the sleeves off of, and he’s got a pair of sunglasses sitting on his face. A feeling worse than rejection rushes through you when Yunho rolls down the window and waves to you, finally prompting Mingi to also notice you sitting there.
Mingi raises his hand to wave but the movement is cut shorter than Yunho's enthusiastic full-bodied gesture. Mingi gets in the car and the engine roars as Yunho drives away. The warm air feels bittersweet when it’s filled by the smell of exhaust fumes.
That night you’re lying in bed and you’re inching close to sleep when your room lights up for a second. In the haze of sleep, you assume it to be the headlights of a car, but it happens again until the stream of light persists entirely and you finally get up to look outside your window. It’s clear instantly where it’s coming from because Mingi is hanging halfway out his window with a flashlight in his hand.
Though he’s quite a distance away, you can see him well enough to tell that he’s shirtless and his hair is messy, but your focus is pulled from that to trying to decode what gesture he’s making with his hand. You shrug, and he disappears from his window for a few seconds before he pops back with his phone and starts pointing to it.
You search for your phone and open it to find 4 missed calls from Mingi. His contact picture pops up on your phone and you hurry to answer.
”What the fuck, Mingi?” you whisper into your phone.
”Were you sleeping?” he chuckles, and you can see his shoulders shake with laughter. Every little bit of this makes you want to hang up, or scream, or march right over to his house and have a go at him. How dare he go days without speaking to you, then call you up in the middle of the night and laugh as if you haven’t been in agony this past week? How dare he kiss you breathless in this very room and make no attempts at reliving it?
”No, I was just about to fall asleep!” you huff.
”Why are you whispering?” Mingi asks.
”Because my parents are asleep, dumbass.”
”Hm,” he ponders. ”So that would be a no if I asked you to sneak out and come over?”
You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch at the thought that he wants you to come over in the middle of the night.
”Of course, it’s a no! My mom is already peeved because of Yunho coming by earlier today. She hates how loud that car is. She’s gonna think you’re a bad influence, riding around in that and making me sneak out.”
”Imagine her reaction when she finds out you drove that car before you got your license, and I wasn’t even there. It was all Yunho,” Mingi jokes.
”Shut up! God, my mom has been warning me about him for years. She used to be convinced I was going to end up with him and it was her biggest nightmare,” you say. Your window is cracked to let in some air now that it’s cooler outside. The night is quiet, and all you can hear is Mingi breathing at the other end of the call. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can see that Mingis face is scrunched up.
”You and Yunho?” he scoffs. ”Why would she think that?”
”I don’t know, it’s not like she had any reason to. She’s just weird like that, you know how my mom is.”
It’s silent yet again, Mingi just sighing.
Your stomach does a somersault when a thought strikes you and you have to ask, ”You’re not jealous, are you?”
”Jealous? Of- of Yunho?” Mingi laughs breathlessly. You just hum, and you can’t take your eyes off of him where he’s sitting in his window. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and regains his voice, ”I have no reason to be jealous of him when I’m the one with your nudes in my phone.”
Something about that makes you curl up on yourself, suddenly feeling very shy that you’re only in your underwear and a thin old tank top. It brings up another thought that has plagued you. The pictures you’d sent were all meticulously posed and manipulated to be as appealing as possible. It had been your body, yes, but the most perfect version of it possible. Here, in your pajamas with your skin glistening from sweat, hunched over yourself, you hardly think Mingi can find any resemblance between the picture-perfect version and the one in front of his eyes.
”Oh yeah?” you murmur. You can’t let him see you falter, can’t let him call your bluff. You straighten your back and pretend to be more interested in something under your nails. ”You could have a lot more than just pictures, you know.”
Mingi lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a breath, just audible enough for his phone to pick it up.
”Fuck, look at me,” he says, and you do. You just do.
Mingi stands up, keeping his phone pressed to his ear with one hand while his free hand moves in a long, slow caressing motion down his upper body. It’s your turn to feel jealous now, stupidly jealous of Mingis own hands for getting to touch him. His fingers reach the waistband of his boxers and you nervously stop breathing as you imagine them dipping inside. His hand moves just a bit further down though, where Mingi wraps his entire palm around his dick.
”Can you see that?” he asks. He uses his hand to move his hard cock under the light material of his underwear, making sure to jut his hips out towards the moonlight so you can see every second of his show.
”I can see you, oh my god. Are you out of your mind? Mingi, what if-”
”No one’s around, no one’s gonna see except for you,” he assures you. You lick your lips, thinking back to what Mingis mouth had tasted like.
”You’re crazy,” you whisper to him.
”You make me crazy,” he says with a smirk. ”Would you lift your shirt up for me?”
Your fingers have dug into your thigh without you noticing until now that Mingi is directing attention to your body. There’s so much tension inside your body that your breathing feels labored as if there are coils fastened inside you and everything Mingi says and does tighten up every bit of your internal structure. He has you feeling lightheaded with words alone.
Sensing your hesitance, Mingi speaks again. ”You don’t have to, I just really want to see you.”
The last sentence has you moving without thinking, getting up on your knees on the seat under your window. You take a quick glance around the street and in the windows of nearby neighbors. The whole world is asleep, only you and Mingi are awake.
You use your free hand to pull your tank top as high as possible, exposing your stomach and chest to Mingi who has stopped touching himself and is keeping razor-sharp focus on you.
”You-… Thank you, you’re gorgeous, do I ever tell you that?” Mingi’s voice is low and hushed. Until now he has sounded loud and confident, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that Mingi has gotten shy. He probably didn’t expect you to follow through with his request.
You haven’t spoken in minutes and you’re not sure if you could make any noise without it coming out as a whine, but luckily Mingi speaks up once more.
”Can you get into bed? I’m gonna lay down, please join me, please, would you touch yourself with me?” Mingi pleas. He waits a second for the words to register, for you to spring into action before he does so himself. Part of you wants to stay and keep drinking in the sight of his body, but the expectations of what he’s going to have you doing has you obeying his words.
”I’m in bed now,” your voice is still hushed, and there’s a layer of excitement in it that brings on a wave of embarrassment.
”I am too, I’m gonna- I’m taking my underwear off. It’s been so long, I just need to…” Mingi trails off. His end of the call is muffled, and a little distorted, and you can hear him shuffling to get his boxers off.
”It’s been so long since what?” you ask to clarify.
”Since we last did this, since I last came…” he answers. Fuck.
”Have you not been cumming since we last had phone sex?”
Mingi quiets down for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh.
”Have you?” he asks with a tone in his voice you can’t make out, but it has your cheeks heating up and your entire body running ice cold.
You turn silent now, but it’s clear from how Mingi is laughing under his breath that he doesn’t need an answer from you to know the truth.
”Oh my god. Well, tell me then, how many times have you made yourself cum since our last call?” Mingi asks. He sounds so cocky, so full of himself that you don’t know whether to roll your eyes or shove your hand between your legs and revel in this stupidly hot version of Mingi.
”Maybe two or three times,” you mumble, hoping that he doesn’t catch it.
”Let's just pretend I believe that. What have you been thinking about?”
You whine, feeling your entire body surge with shame and humiliation. Despite all of it, you’ve bunched up your blanket between your legs and without thinking about it you’ve started rutting against it slowly.
”Mingi, please…”
”Tell me.”
”I think about you. I always do. I’ve been thinking about that kiss, and-…” Your thought is interrupted by a sound on the other end of the line, along with Mingis soft hums. ”Mingi, are you jacking off to me telling you I fantasize about you?”
”I’m jacking off to your voice,” he says so matter of fact it knocks the air out of you. He continues, ”The fact that it’s about me only makes it better.”
”Oh my god,” you sigh, closing your eyes and letting your hand move where you need it most. Mingis voice is sweet and gentle as he moans with each stroke, and his phone is so close to his mouth you’re tricked into believing he’s right next to you, breathing and huffing.
”I wish you were here right now,” he says, sort of under his breath, a little quiet. It feels a little secretive when he says it, like when you were younger and he would have you turn your back to him as he did the same. With your backs pressed together, he would tell you all his deepest secrets, and when you’d turn around again you would both pretend like nothing had happened. It’s a memory you have replayed a lot more recently than ever before, just due to how similar it feels to this arrangement you have with Mingi. As long as you aren’t faced with each other, as long as your backs are turned you can do and say whatever you want.
Instead of sulking about it, you force yourself to play along.
”I do too, I need you so bad,” you whisper, and none of it is a lie.
”Need to see you cum for me, fuck, I need you to make me cum,” he moans. It echoes through your entire head, that moan and those words, and it has you rolling onto your back and pulling your underwear down your legs so you can touch yourself properly.
”You’ll make me cum just by saying that, Mingi,” you say, pathetically so. Something about Mingi has you reaching the edge faster than anything else.
”Fuck, me too. Just hearing you say my name is enough to make me cum right now. I’ve never felt this fucking good,” Mingi groans.
”Mingi,” you let out again, out of pure instinct. ”Mingi, please give me permission to cum, I need it, please!”
He does, in a string of words and breathless moans he allows you to cum with him. Your orgasm rolls through your entire body in a blinding flash, and by the time it’s over you can’t gauge if multiple minutes or just a few seconds have passed. Your phone is pressed so tight to your ear that pearls of sweat coat the screen.
”You there?” Mingis voice is raspy, all fucked out.
You come to, clearing your throat, ”I’m here, sorry. Holy shit.”
”What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. You don’t have time to feel overjoyed or even finish your train of thought (of oh, fuck, it’s finally happening) before Mingi continues, ”Yunho’s throwing this… thing, at his house. There’s gonna be a barbeque, we’re gonna get drinks, and he says it’s going to be chill but you know how he is. It’s gonna end up being a party by the end of the night.”
You’re staring up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers Mingi helped you set up when you were 15, and the answer is so obvious you don’t have to think about it.
”Yeah, I’ll go with you,” you respond.
”Well… I’ll take you, but maybe we shouldn’t make it too obvious when we’re there. All of our friends will be there, maybe it’s best to lay low?”
You clench your eyes shut. It makes you want to scream so loud it’d pierce your wall and travel across the street and through to his bedroom. A week ago he had been so concerned about things turning weird between you two and you’d written it off as a worry about your friendship, about how things would change after all the words and naked pictures you had exchanged. You hadn’t considered for a second that Mingi would be concerned for his reputation.
”Yeah,” you mutter. ”No, yeah, you’re right.”
”Okay then,” he says, so cheerily that you feel shame wash over you. ”I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five then?”
You hum in response and swap goodbyes before he ends the call and the beeps ring through your ear.
Your sleep that night is weighed down by a worry you can't dispel even after you wake up. You hardly feel rested, and your parent's voices barely register when they speak to you at breakfast. A lot of thoughts linger in your head, unshakeable doubts about whether things with Mingi are really going to be as okay as you had thought when you were in school.
Things had felt so much simpler then, like this steadfast belief that it would be just as it had always been. You had returned every single summer and were able to pick back up your friendship with Mingi with no trouble, despite all the months you had spent apart.
At least you would get to see all your friends again. Summer being in full swing would mean that everyone would be at their happiest, most free, possibly stupid, and risky behavior.
The day passes by sluggishly, you're merely counting down the hours. You try to read a book while lying in the sun in your backyard, but find that the words just flow together. You check your phone and see the half-hour call in your log from yesterday night, you’re just staring at Mingi's name and contact picture. It's just letters and numbers on a screen, but it's also a journal of your entire relationship. You can go back and see every single one, remember where things had started and where things had escalated. It took you weeks to send the first suggestive pictures to each other and they had been modest back then. A picture of your dark silhouette in the mirror, and Mingi replying with a blurry picture of his thighs in the dark of his room.
It's just another reminder that what you've got with Mingi is all contained in this piece of technology you can fit in your hand. Nothing is real or tangible, except for a few minutes of kissing. That's all you've got that counts as something; Mingi kissing you in your childhood bedroom for a few very good minutes before departing and ignoring you for days.
The kiss lives vividly in your head as you shower and get dressed.
You're sitting on your windowsill and watching the clock tick closer to five when the front door of Mingis house opens and he walks outside. He's got a pair of sunglasses on that he lifts off of his nose to peek up at your window, and when he spots you he waves and motions for you to come down.
You float down the stairs and out your door. The air is light and breezy outside despite the way the sun has been beaming down all day. Mingi is dressed in yet another shirt that shows off his arms, the slight tan line from his work t-shirt that he tries to even out is obvious to you up close and you squeeze his arm to tease him for it.
Both of you sit down in his car. The windows are rolled down to let air flow through and Mingi sets the car stereo to a low volume so you can faintly hear Tears for Fears play in the background. The engine hums pleasantly in comparison to Yunhos Camaro when Mingi starts the car. You watch his hands, waiting for him to shift the stick into first gear, but it doesn't happen.
Instead, time moves in both directions, very slowly but all too quickly as he wraps his hand around the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. Every single thought that has plagued you throughout the day vanishes the second his lips are on yours. It's replaced by the fact that these same lips had moaned your name less than 24 hours ago, that he had sounded so desperate when he told you he wished you were there.
Mingi deepens the kiss this time, letting it go on for longer than last time. When you have to part from it to take a breath Mingi trails his kisses from the corner of your mouth to under your ear. The kisses are chaste, barely there, but every single one leaves your skin tingling.
He doesn't return to your lips, he pulls back and regains his breath and his smile is so cocky when he reverses the car out of the driveway. You can't help but giggle then, and Mingi turns up the volume to let the music blare through the entire car. This is the Mingi you've missed, the one that drives through your neighborhood and ignores all the grouchy people who turn around and stare disgruntedly. He sings along too loudly, straining his voice to hit notes that sound awful even though you know that he's a great singer.
Everything feels as it always has when you pull up to Yunhos house and there are cars parked up and down the street. Mingi parks and as you're unbuckling your belt you see him look in the rearview mirror, grooming his hair and then wiping his mouth to remove your lip balm. It stings for a second but you don't let it persist. You just get out of his car and the two of you walk towards Yunhos backyard.
There is a voice in the back of your head that reminds you of the distance Mingi puts between you, this very conscious measurement that would leave no doubt for all your friends that you're strictly platonic. You push that away too, and make way towards all your old school friends instead. Seonghwa is the first to pull you into a hug, and it's all you need for the bubble to burst on all your worries.
Soon enough you're all laughing, the backyard is quickly filling with people and Yunho is having a hard time keeping up with all the people demanding a burger. The afternoon air smells just like high school, and the cheap alcohol mixed in the punch is just like the one you used to drink back then. The only difference is that everyone looks so much older, and the conversations have switched from homework, crushes, and drama to future plans and jobs.
"So what now?" Seonghwa asks you when a few hours have passed and the sun is setting. It's not getting dark, the sun is just changing from blue to lilac. You turn to him, feeling the way the alcohol has affected your vision, the way it's swimming a bit.
"What now?" you ask.
"I mean, are you back for good? Are you gonna settle down, get a job, do the whole small-town thing?" he jokes, but the question he poses is a valid one.
"Hm," you ponder for a second, looking up at the sky as if an answer is gonna rain down on you. "I guess I don't know. I need to get a job, but I'll give myself the summer to figure it out. It feels like the last one before things truly.. you know.."
"Change," Seonghwa interjects. "Before we truly grow up."
The conversation quiets for a moment before you both burst into laughter.
"Jesus, we always get so somber, don't we?" Seonghwa laughs.
"Remember prom? We went out for some air and you couldn't stop talking about the universe because you looked up at the stars for a second," you say.
"I don't remember that, I just remember Hongjoong going off on me because I teared up and ruined the makeup he spent an hour doing on me," Seonghwa recollects. You could remember that. You also remembered the eyeshadow Hongjoong had smeared across Mingis's eyelid, the messy dark brown he had lined his eyes with because Mingi refused to stay still for too long.
None of you had brought any dates that night, your entire friend group had decided to just go together and spend the night dancing with each other. When you had gotten a dance with Mingi towards the end of the night his makeup had started running and you had brushed your thumb under his eye. Nothing about that action or the dance, or the night as a whole, had been close to romantic. He had just been Mingi, the same Mingi as always, he walked you home that night with his arm around your shoulder just like he had every day after school.
It's only with the wisdom of hindsight you can identify little actions to speak otherwise. You can't recall what Sans eyes had looked like when you danced with him, but you remember in great detail how the lights had twinkled in Mingi's irises. All you remember from your dance with Wooyoung is that his hands had been too sweaty to hold, but you can go back in your memory to when Mingi had leaned his head on your shoulder and sang along softly to the song that was playing.
"What is it like when you talk to Mingi?" Seonghwa pulls you out of your thoughts. You don't know when your eyes close, but when you open them again the sky is starting to burn a vibrant pink.
"Well... I don't know. It's good. We talk about all sorts of things," you try to sound matter of fact, very casual. Reminding yourself of Mingis words, lay low.
"Yeah, you must," Seonghwa remarks, a chuckle sounding through his voice. It has you turning to him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
"Meaning?" you question.
"Just that there must be substance to your conversations, seeing as Mingi excuses himself from every night out when you call," he says.
"Yeah," you attempt to brush it off as a meaningless piece of information, but it feels like a lot more. You didn't know Mingi would rush home to talk to you.
Seonghwa hums, and your eyes are pulled to the ground where you've been digging your heel into the grass.
"I guess you guys have always been closer than the rest of us. Living across from each other, being childhood friends, all that," he says. There's no hidden meaning or intention behind his words, you know Seonghwa well enough to deduct that, but it still feels like he's trying to catch you out.
"Yeah," you repeat, absent-mindedly. "Suppose so."
Seonghwas mouth twitches a little as if he wants to say something else, but he keeps it shut. You're thankful, because even if he can read between the lines of your and Mingi's strange relationship, the fact that he doesn't say it out loud serves as reassurance to you. It's the same thin veil that you and Mingi drape yourselves in. Unspoken meaning unchanged.
A friend comes over and offers to top off your and Seonghwas glasses, and you decide to get up on your feet and move on from the sudden gloom that took over.
The music is loud and the air gets chillier as the clouds twist amongst pink and orange. You’re talking to Yunho and telling him the story about your mom's disapproval of his car when he notices your shoulders quiver with the drop in temperature. He fetches one of his flannels for you, helping you thread your arms through and telling you that you need another drink to warm up. Yunho makes you something stronger than the diluted punch, and it goes to your head with haste.
It does warm you up, and it pulls you from reality a little. It’s easier to laugh along with Yunhos jokes this way, without thinking about the tension between you and Mingi. It feels good and safe to just be worriless, to feel the wind in your hair and be surrounded by the sound of your friend's voices mixing together.
Your legs are getting wobblier, but Yunho catches you before you fall and he lets you stay posted against him.
You’re just watching the conversation your friends are having without joining in when you feel two hands on your waist. You don’t have to look back to know that it’s Mingi. The smell of his cologne is familiar enough to alert you.
”I think I better get them home,” Mingis voice is warm and round behind your ear. For a second you feel a little bitter, you kind of want to shake his hands off of you and scoff at him because he’s intervening just when you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself without spending a single thought on him. Is that not what he wanted? You’re keeping the secret, you’re not drawing any eyes towards you two. He’s doing that all on his own.
Had it been three years ago, you think your friends had been protesting your leave. You’re all grown up now though, and everyone is understanding when Mingi wraps his arm around your waist, and you both wave goodbye.
Mingi helps you into his car. Tears for Fears is still playing when he turns the car on and starts driving, and you feel a sort of agitation that you can’t place. He doesn’t speak a single word for a minute or two, and the mood inside the car is unbearable.
”I don’t think anyone could tell,” you say. Mingis face is bare of emotion, and you find yourself with an urge to placate him. ”We did well, don’t you think? I didn’t make anything obvious.”
You don’t know what response you expect to get from Mingi, but there’s a palpable shock within you when he pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to you.
”What?” you ask. Mingis eyes soften when they flick over your entire body, to then end up at your face.
”Did you really.. worry about that?” Mingi wonders softly.
”Huh? I thought-… Yes, I worried about it, because you did. I mean, you told me we needed to lay low.” You’re starting to get thoroughly confused and frustrated.
”I know, but I didn’t think you’d drink so much and cuddle up to Yunho because of it,” Mingi says, his tone quickly working up to a sharpness you’ve never heard in him before.
”Drink so much?” you gasp. ”I was just having fun! It had nothing to do with you! Not everything is about you, Mingi, or about us. I don’t worry about it as much as you do. Believe it or not.”
”I don’t worry about it,” Mingi sounds accused.
”Clearly you do though. You take me to this party and give me instructions on how to behave, then spend the whole time ignoring me. Just like you did all of last week. Clearly, you have to feel ashamed, or- or…” you trail off, feeling your voice crack. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and leans closer, putting his hand on your knee.
”Please,” he urges, and there’s something in his voice that breaks your heart. ”Please, don’t think I could ever be ashamed of you.”
”Then what, Mingi?” you ask quietly, starting to feel yourself break now. Tears are starting to well up and cloud your vision. You continue, ”Do you just not want me? I get if it’s different when we’re face to face, I know it might not be what you expected, I understand if you don’t find me-”
”Stop it!” Mingi is almost shouting now, startling you. ”It’s nothing like that, you have to believe me. Stop saying these things.”
His hand lifts from your knee to hold your face where he wipes away a tear from your cheek. You don’t know what to say, even though there’s a part of you that wants to keep insisting. Mingi isn’t offering any kind of explanation or even an excuse, he’s not saying anything to quell your worries, and his hands on you are not enough.
”Kiss me. Please,” you whisper. There’s more you want to say, like prove it, prove that you want me. Kiss me and mean it.
”I’m not going to kiss you when you’re drunk and I’m sober,” Mingi says, offering up a solemn smile.
”I’m not though,” you argue. This entire conversation has been sobering. You’re still tipsy, your head feels a little heavy and your vision is still floating but you think you can blame it on your tears as much as you can blame it on alcohol.
”Well, you’re drunk enough that I don’t feel comfortable kissing you.” Mingis thumb strokes over your cheek to comfort you. It’s enough to calm you a little, because that you can take. You don’t think you’d want to kiss him either if the roles had been reversed.
”Okay,” you mutter. ”Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want me?”
Mingi sighs, ”We’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re not-”
”I’m not drunk, Mingi.”
”Okay, okay. But I still want to do this tomorrow, when we’re both thinking clearly. We’re just misunderstanding each other, and this isn’t how I wanted it to go,” he tells you. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head instead, just above your hairline. It must be calculated on his part, to kiss you where your skin can’t feel the warmth of his lips.
”Okay,” you say again. This time Mingi lets out a little laugh at your dissatisfaction.
He starts the car back up and takes off to go home, leaving his hand on your thigh throughout the drive. When he pulls up to his house and you get out of the car your legs feel like jelly, and you realize you’re probably not as sober as you’d like to believe.
”Mingi?” you ask. He rushes to your side to hold you up, though that’s not what you meant. ”Can I sleep here tonight? You know how my mom is, she’d flip if she saw me-”
”I wasn’t planning on letting you go home like this, don’t worry,” he laughs.
So, with his arm around your waist, Mingi guides you inside and up the stairs to his room. It’s dark and you have to remind yourself to be quiet to not wake Mingi's family. While he leaves the room to fetch another blanket you sit down on his bed and look around his room.
It’s been a while since you’ve been here but not much has changed. You know for a fact that Mingi is still just as entertained by his action figures now as he had been at 13. It makes you laugh to see them all lined up on his shelf, right next to a couple of books that you had gifted him. He had forced his way through a couple of them and called you to complain about every choice the main character made.
You’re comforted by how much of his room remains the same. This is a place where you can remember and picture Mingi. By his big stereo, switching CD’s. Cutting out pictures of his friends to add to his collage wall.
Mingi comes back to his room with a blanket and a pillow that he throws next to you on the bed.
You’re watching his every move. When his eyes land on you he lets out a sound you can only read as disgust.
”Of course he gave you that,” he complains, more to himself than to you.
You can’t help but follow his line of sight though, finding that he’s looking at Yunhos flannel shirt.
”What’s so bad about it?” you wonder. Being under Mingis gaze always fills you with a sort of insecurity that has you twisting and turning.
”It's like, his move. Lending out his shirt. And then letting you lean on him like that..” Mingi mutters.
”Why would Yunho ever pull a move on me?” you ask incredulously.
”For the same reason I would, I assume,” he says. ”You’re really hot.”
A heat rushes to your abdomen and you can’t meet Mingis eyes anymore. Today has left you feeling anything but desired by him, but you don’t think he’s lying right now. He wouldn’t lie about finding you hot just minutes after refusing to kiss you.
”It wouldn’t matter what Yunho thinks of me. Like you said last night, you’re the one who has my nudes. Right?” you say.
Mingi sits down next to you, looking at his hands in his lap instead of at you.
”What if he wanted more than just your nudes?” he asks. This, too, feels like he’s asking himself the question. And you don’t know what to answer.
You don’t think Yunho poses any threat whatsoever, he’s just friendly and flirty by nature. But you let yourself think about what Mingi is implying for a second. What if he - or anyone else - would want more of you than Mingi does? Someone who could offer you a relationship that wouldn’t require secrecy. Someone who would bring you around his friends and hold your hand for everyone to see. Someone who would properly date you and want a relationship, as opposed to dirty phone sex at odd hours of the night.
You realize you’d always pick Mingi above all that, no matter if you had to have him only partially. If he was never yours.
You open your mouth to respond but shut it again when you can’t find the right words.
Mingi looks over at you. He speaks, ”Can’t you take it off?”
”Take it off of me,” you whisper back.
His mouth twitches into a small smile.
”It’d be a lot sexier if I wasn’t taking Yunhos clothes off of you the first time I undress you,” he still sounds displeased, but his hands work the shirt off of you anyways. He discards it to the floor, as far away as it can come.
”These are all mine,” you say, meaning the clothes you have on. ”You can take those off.”
Mingi lets out a drawn-out breath, something to collect himself. His hands pause at the hem of your top even though you’ve already given consent, waiting for you to nod until he starts pulling it over your head.
Silence permeates in Mingis bedroom as he continues undressing you. It’s just the wind rustling his curtains that disrupts the quiet. He guides you to lie down so he can unbutton your shorts to take them off. His hands are so gentle and his touch is soft, when he has finished taking your socks off and all your clothes are on the floor except for your underwear he leans down and presses a sweet kiss right above your knee.
”Take yours off too, please,” you say softly. He’s not quite as delicate with himself, he doesn’t make a show of it. You can’t help but stare though, trying to really commit this to memory since it’s the very first time you’re seeing him strip for you, even if you know it won’t be followed up with all the things you’ve talked about on the phone.
Your eyes flick all over him, down his toned arms and up his torso as he pulls his shirt over his head, across his broad chest. You watch his fingers work the button on his shorts open, revealing his dark underwear. He’s not hard, at least not fully, and it’s strangely intimate to be so close to his dick for the first time but not in a sexual manner. Everything about it makes your heart feel heavy, you’re somehow aware of each pump of it, how it’s speeding up at the mere sight of Mingi.
Mingi, your Mingi, that hasn’t ever been yours. Not really, not properly, but still somehow.
You want him on top of you so bad, to finally feel him in the ways you’ve dreamt about for a full year. Instead, Mingi climbs in bed with you and pulls you close.
He is soft and warm in all the spots your bodies are connected and intertwined. You fall asleep to the sounds of his breath coming out slow and steady.
You wake to a breeze of air over your face. At first, all you can hear is the chirps of birds outside and the distant noise of cars driving around. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that it’s the middle of the day, the sun is bright in that midday way, bright enough that there isn’t a total blackness even when you screw your eyes shut further.
You just turn around and try to escape from it by burying your face into the pillow. The texture of the pillow feels strange and unfamiliar, and the more you come to you realize it also doesn’t smell like your bedding. It smells like Mingi, you realize, and shoot up in a startle.
You don’t have time to wonder why the bed is empty next to you, because you can hear steps on the stairs and seconds later the bedroom door creaks open. Through a squint you can see Mingi in the same state you remember him falling asleep. In just his underwear he walks up to the bed and sets down a glass of water and a plate, before petting his hand over your hair.
”Good morning,” he greets you, smiling big.
”Mm, yeah,” you hum back, still drowsy. It’s far more comfortable to let your eyes close again and just lean into Mingi's affection.
”You okay? Are you hungover?” Mingi asks.
”Yeah, but not from drinking,” you murmur. ”It’s from you yelling at me.”
”I wasn’t yelling!” There’s an undertone to his voice, an actual worry and fear that you’d be feeling a certain way today after last night's conversation.
”I know you weren’t, Mingi. I’m just messing with you, I remember every bit of that conversation,” you assure him. He lets out a sigh of relief, his thumb stroking over your temple.
”That was going to be my next question,” he tells you. ”So you remember the whole night then?”
You nod your head under his hand.
”Do you want to talk about it?” he asks you.
The question stabs at something inside your sternum. Of course, you want to talk, in reality, there are a thousand times you’ve held yourself back from saying to him and there would be nothing more freeing than telling Mingi all of it. There’s just never a time and place for it though and you’ve come to terms that there never will be. It would take astronomical changes to allow you to say what you want. Yes, Mingi, I’m in love with you and probably have been all my life. Mingi, it took us sexting to make me realize you’re the only one I could ever picture myself with.
You had of course let yourself fantasize a couple of times, but the details of any imaginary and hypothetical relationship between you two would quickly obscure, and Mingi was often a perpetrator in that. It would present itself on days when you lived in the afterglow of a nighttime call. You’d walk on clouds with the memories of Mingi moaning your name, then check social media and be greeted with photos of him with his arm around your lifelong friends and strangers you would get nauseous picturing Mingi talking to. Your name wouldn’t even come up in conversation, he’d appear single to them because after all, he was.
So you wouldn’t often entertain the idea of being something more. You’d just treat it as a passing thought, boil it down to what it was, a neuronal connection gone to grief.
You guess you had hoped to see something in Mingi to completely deny these thoughts. Like, a first kiss that you wouldn’t be able to break away from. Or the moment you finally have sex for the first time and it being this out-of-body experience that ends with both of you crying and confessing your love. Like a scene out of a movie.
You could even have survived the opposite. If the first kiss had gone sour and the spark died before it even ignited. At the very least, you would have an answer to all your questions. Instead of being tethered to this middle ground where there’s an undeniable passion and need for each other, but a considerable distance keeping you apart.
Though there were things you’d want to say, there are none you could verbalize.
”I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, finally. To convince Mingi of this, you open your eyes and roll onto your back so you can look at him. He looks unconvinced, so you continue, ”I think I was just confused and upset. I don’t know why. Maybe because you’ve barely spoken to me since I came back home. I had just… expected more.”
You find yourself surprised that you’re telling the truth. It’s not what you had meant to say, but it’s true and innocent enough. Mingis hand rests on the side of your face, where his fingers fiddle with your hair, and for a second his eyes focus on that, before coming back to yours.
”I don’t have any excuse,” he says. ”I guess I could say that I kept seeing your relatives show up at your house and I thought it’d be rude to whisk you away from all that just to fuck you. But I think the more time passed, the harder it got to..”
”Yeah,” you agree. ”To fuck.”
He smiles at your choice of words and nods.
”Have you not happened to notice I haven’t initiated a single kiss between us, Mingi? I’m nervous too. It’s different in real life. It was much easier on the phone to just do things,” you say.
”Would it make it easier if I told you I’d really like to kiss right now?” Mingi asks.
There won’t ever come a time when the prospect of Mingi wanting to kiss you won’t send a jolt of electricity through each and every vein in your body. Nor will there ever be an instance where you won’t act on that will, especially since it seems that there will be a finite number of them. As you prop yourself up and lean in to kiss Mingi you realize that, along with this being the very first time that you initiate a kiss with him, you’re also one kiss closer to the last kiss you’ll ever have with him.
Because there will be a last time. If you keep going like this there is no other possible outcome, there will simply come a day when Mingis's eyes set on someone else and your arrangement is concluded. There’s not an if, it’s simply a when, and every kiss from now on is going to lead up to that last one. You can’t decide if you should hold out and stave off that last one for as long as you can or fit in as many as possible until then.
All these thoughts disperse when your mouth meets Mingis and he kisses you back. It’s hard to think of anything other than his warm lips or his tongue softly licking against yours. It’s more playful this time compared to the last two, today you’re both feeling each other out and learning what to do, what feels good.
You find yourself out of rhythm at times, the position you’re in is a little awkward, and you fumble through a few kisses to lean closer to Mingi. You feel your stomach swirl when you realize that none of this deters Mingi, that you can in fact feel him smile and breathe out something between a hum and a moan every time you come crashing against his mouth. His big hand comes up to your jaw, long fingers curling around the back of your head to deepen the kiss.
Things get heady so fast with Mingi, he works you up so incredibly quickly, and it’s obvious from the sounds he’s making that he’s just as affected. He doesn’t pull away for a second, his hand keeps your head in place and he continues to clumsily kiss you as he guides you down onto the bed.
The air in Mingi's room is hot from the summer sun shining through his window. It’s not until now you realize that the only thing separating you from Mingis body has been his thin blanket. He starts peeling it away, and it’s then you remember that Mingi had undressed you the night before. A jolt of panic shoots through you now that Mingi can see you, entirely nude except for your underwear, in the warm, bright light of his room. You find comfort in the fact that he’s undressed too, but with Mingis eyes taking you in it’s hard to feel relaxed.
Mingi leans in for a long, passionate kiss, and against your mouth he muffles, ”You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Your head is swimming, Mingi keeps on kissing you, getting softer and more careful as he moves down your neck and continues to lavish you with compliments. So pretty, kiss, gorgeous, kiss, breathtaking, kiss. And if you had any doubts, he squashes every single one when he kisses from your collarbone, over your chest and down your stomach, all the way down to your hips.
He plants his hands on each of your thighs, not grabbing or putting any pressure, but you can still feel the weight of them.
”Is this okay?” he asks quietly. He kisses just above the waistband of your underwear, and at the same time, his hands nudge your legs apart. Your breath catches in your throat and you can only nod and let his hands move your legs to where he wants them.
”What about your family?” you ask him, suddenly realizing the reality of where you are.
”No one’s home. It’s just us,” he says. ”So don’t hold back on me please.”
His shoulders are big and broad between your legs. The sun illuminates him so prettily, his tan skin glows, and every little hair on his body is lit up by the sun. The heat has left a thin layer of sweat on his skin and it highlights his muscles in just the right way. He’s just glowing, near angelic, and you’re moved with the need to worship every part of him.
Mingi is still so tender with all his kisses, there’s no sense of rushing as he takes his time by really letting his lips linger. His mouth trails along your entire thigh, stopping now and then to lightly suck your skin into his mouth and have a taste of you. He only falters when he gets to the junction of your thigh, to where your skin is covered by the fabric of your underwear.
You’ve been short of breath for a while now, but when Mingis fingers dip into the waistline of your underwear you cease to breathe entirely. Your head is rushing, watching as Mingis hands pull your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely naked. You’ve sent him pictures before, he knows what every little inch of your body looks like, but Mingi looks at you as if it’s the very first time.
A thousand thoughts whirl through your head between the seconds your underwear hits the floor to when Mingi springs into action. A thousand worries now culminating, whether he’ll realize that it was better over the phone, if he’s disappointed by what he’s seeing, or if he’s repulsed by how aroused you already are.
”You’re,” Mingi begins, stopping to press a kiss at the seam of your thigh. He adds, ”Beautiful.”
His eyes aren’t even on yours, he’s single-mindedly focused on what’s right in front of him. His breath is fanning across your entire crotch, tickling your inner thighs, and as you feel it get closer and closer you instinctively close your eyes and let your head roll back when Mingi finally puts his mouth where you need it most.
He’s still so gentle, using his tongue and lips to tease you and explore what you like best. It feels like hours pass of Mingi lightly sucking and pressing wet kisses all over you, he’s really and truly taking his time and you have to believe it’s for his own sake because he’s only building up a frustration within you.
”Mingi,” you whine, reaching down to grab hold of his hair. It’s an objectively insane feeling, to have his hair in your hand and head between your legs, after all this time of dreaming of it. It’s enough to have you getting close, even though Mingi is still lapping carefully at you, and it's nowhere close enough to what you crave.
When you start bucking your hips against his mouth it’s like he releases all restrain and just goes for it. His hands wrap around your legs at first, pressing them towards his head, to then wedging underneath your ass so he can get all of you into his mouth.
Mingi moans out ”You taste so good” with a mouthful of you at the same time you tell him how good he is with his mouth, prompting him to smirk against your pelvis. It really doesn’t take long for him to learn what gets you closest to the edge, just where he should put his tongue and where to apply some pressure.
”So good, Mingi, you’re so good. Oh my god,” you sigh. You tug on his hair hard enough for your fingers to cramp, and Mingi only moans against you. Every sound you make seems to spur him on further, Mingi only getting more eager with the way he’s circling his tongue around you.
His tongue is getting you closer and closer, your stomach is splitting in two to hold onto the edge and trying not to cum. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that it feels a shame to cum just minutes after Mingis mouth is on you, but there’s no holding back. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush to his face, and the second you lift your head to look down at him between your legs you start orgasming in his mouth.
He understands what’s happening before you do, applying enough pressure to get you over the edge before letting up and licking you slower to help you come down. All while he keeps his eyes on yours, letting your fingers scratch his scalp. Mingi listens to every little noise you make and stops the second your heavy breathing turns into an overstimulated hiss.
”Mingi, Mingi,” you whine. His cheeks are flushed a deep pink and his lips are slick with his own spit and your cum, and you can’t stop admiring him. All you can do is pray that Mingi looks into your eyes and mistakes your all-consuming love as the afterglow of a great orgasm.
He pulls himself up enough to crawl on top of you, and though he’s just spent minutes between your legs, this feels a lot more daunting. He hesitates for a moment as if he’s unsure if he’s allowed to kiss you, so you wrap your hands around the back of his head and pull him towards you.
Mingi is breathing heavily from the effort he’s just put forth, and instead of letting him catch his breath you only grow more desperate. Your hands clammer onto his shoulders, pulling him against you, then down to his waist, and finally around his ass so you can pull him against your core. He’s got his underwear on, but you don’t let it stop you as you grind up against him. He’s hard and you’re still wet with spit and cum, it doesn’t take long before you’ve soaked his boxers and the barrier between you both is practically nonexistent. You can feel every bit of him against you.
”Mingi,” you moan into his mouth. ”Fuck me, please.”
He pulls away and sucks in a deep breath.
”Don’t you want me to… uh, prepare you?” He sounds small and insecure. You watch his brows burrow and his eyes flick across your face, and you’re struck by how much he looks like Mingi. Your best friend Mingi, who you’ve built up in your head as a confident sex god, even though you’ve always been aware that he’s more careful and vary than any other person you know.
You suppose you’d just assume that that version of him would disappear in the bedroom, that he’d be the same as he is over the phone when he’s telling you all the different ways he wants to fuck you.
”I’m- I’m embarrassed to say this, but I’m so worked up you could just slide inside me,” you tell him, and Mingi moans in response.
”Are you sure?” he asks. You pick up motion again, sliding yourself against the entire length of his dick.
”I’m not just sure, I’m begging,” you plea. You hook your fingers into his boxers, trying to tug them down even though you know the position you’re in won’t allow you to undress him. You just need him to act, now, you can’t wait any longer.
It happens fast, Mingi pulling his boxers off and getting back on top of you, to then lining up his dick to enter you.
”Fuck, I forgot how big you are,” you mumble. The sight of him in comparison to you, lined up against you, is enough to make you cum untouched.
This is what you’ve been dreaming about for a whole year, this very moment. For Mingi to push inside you, hook your legs over his shoulders and fuck you until you can’t see straight. Actually being here, with the tip of his dick against your hole, it feels much different. It’s not the actual sex you’re looking forward to, it’s the fact that he’s finally going to be inside you. It feels like you’re claiming him, that the moment is finally here and he’s going to be yours.
”Are you okay? Are you ready? Can I-?” Mingi asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty.
”Please,” you nod.
He starts pushing inside, watching his dick slide with ease until he’s got the entire tip in. The stretch feels amazing, you could take all of him in one go but the fact that he stops and leans down to kiss you as he slowly thrusts his entire cock inside is way better. And god, he kisses you as if he’s not currently buried inside you. His lips barely brush against yours, and the kisses are short and sweet. Finally, he pulls back to watch himself bottom out.
The sun is shining on the side of Mingis face, and this is just not at all how you had pictured it. In your fantasies, there had always been a dark bedroom and Mingis body had been on top of yours, only distinguishable by faint lights outside the window. It was quick, rushed, and dirty, maybe Mingis hand would be clamped over your mouth to keep you from making any sounds since it would have to happen at one of your homes. Sometimes you’d imagine it happening in his car, parked somewhere secluded at night, it would be bumpy and awkward and sweaty and the focus would just be on both of you cumming as soon as possible.
You hadn’t pictured it like this. Like, Mingi looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.
His hair is messy from your hands grabbing it, and the sunlight lights it up like a halo. Time feels unmoving, you’re drinking in the sight of him and trying to memorize every small detail.
He starts thrusting carefully and slowly. His back is upright, leaning away from you so he can watch his cock go in and out of you. You can’t stop watching him though. He’s so beautiful, his hair is a mess, and beads of sweat are starting to trickle down his chest. You reach your hands up, caressing his skin.
You wonder if you’re breaking some sort of unspoken rule. The two of you hadn’t discussed or set any boundaries, but when you slide your hands over Mingis chest and stomach, you wonder if you should have. This isn’t just fucking, you’re worshipping him and looking at him with intense adoration. He’s going so slow too, really taking his time. You’re not fucking, this is making love.
”I’ve never felt this good, you feel so good,” he moans under his breath. He curls his hands under your ass, picking you up so he can get better leverage to thrust as deep inside as possible. The new angle makes him groan, ”Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you?”
It has you sobbing with pleasure. Mingis fingers are digging into your flesh, and he fucks you at this torturous pace for tens of minutes. You can truly feel the drag of his dick inside of you, when he bottoms out all the way inside to when the tip of his dick is at your entrance.
”You’re so good, oh my god! So good, you’re so handsome, Mingi,” you praise him, causing Mingi to pick up the speed.
You’re grabbing at his arms and shoulders, trying to pull him down, to get him closer. He lets you down on the bed and leans down, coming chest to chest with you, shoving his arm under your head instead. Your bodies are flush with each other now, Mingis pelvis rubbing against you and getting you close to cumming again stupidly quick.
His mouth is right by your ear, pressing a few sloppy kisses to your neck and temple. He is moaning your name and though his voice is hushed and strained you can still feel it reverberate through his chest, right against yours.
It’s precisely that which has you cumming, the sound of his voice calling your name over and over, telling you how good you feel. Your ears start to ring when your orgasm rolls through you and Mingi only picks up the pace to intensify it. You can faintly hear him, somewhere far away now, this otherwordly being showering you with so much affection it has tears forming in your eyes.
”You’re so perfect,” he’s telling you, fucking you faster. ”Just for me, all for me, you’re all mine.”
Somewhere through it, you realize he’s picked up the speed because he’s close too, but he wants to make it good for you before he pulls out. His eyes are on you, watching your breathing return to normal and feeling your hands unclench from his shoulders, and only when he’s certain that you’re coming down from the orgasm he leans back and pulls out. He only manages to get his hand around his cock before he cums all over your stomach, cumming so hard he shoots all the way up to your chest.
Mingis other hand is grabbing your waist and you can’t stop looking at the way he’s marked you up. There are red marks on you from the tips of his fingers, and little marks from his nails all over your hips, and you’re covered in his cum. Just seconds ago he’d told you that you’re all his, and in this moment you feel it.
”Fuck, that was…” Mingi is the first to speak. ”Shit, let me get you cleaned up.”
He scrambles for his underwear, starting to wipe his cum from your stomach.
You’ve managed to blink away the tears that welled up when you came, but there’s still a sob within your chest that you’re fighting to choke down. Everything about what just happened was about a thousand times more intense than you had ever dreamt of. Had he not pulled away you think you might have confessed to him right then and there.
”How are you feeling?” you ask him, clearing your throat and hoping Mingi reads it as just being fucked out.
”Very good,” he responds, without a hint of hesitance or a second of stalling. There’s a faint laugh in his voice, and he’s starting to smile. Nothing about him looks like you currently feel.
”Oh,” you say, struggling to find words. It’s not like you had expected him to just bare his heart and pour out confessions. You’d just expected something more to follow, after all of that. You had made love. There’s no other word for it.
Mingi leans down and kisses you once, so chaste you barely have time to kiss back.
He gets up and pulls out a pair of new boxers from his dresser, stepping in them.
”Fuck, I made you breakfast earlier and forgot all about it,” he tells you. You look over at the nightstand, where your breakfast sits forgotten.
”Oh,” you repeat. Your head drops back down on Mingis pillow. You speak again, ”I think I’d rather have a shower.”
It’s all so thoroughly strange. Mingi clasps his hand in yours and pulls you up from the bed, and you feel perturbed. You’ve seen Mingi greet Yunho with more affection than the way he helps you up on your feet. At least he joins you in the shower, but you feel weirdly disconnected from him. Even when he jokes and suds up his hair into silly hairstyles you can only manage halfhearted laughs.
Your body aches to have him closer, to feel him pressed against you and to have his lips back on yours again. The kisses he’s giving you now feel cheeky, as if he’s kissing you just because he can, and not because he truly wants to.
You suppose there’s reason to feel thankful, because at the very least Mingi hasn’t rejected you. His casualty is worth a lot more to you than the possibility that he could have pulled back and realized that everything about this was a mistake. He ruffles your hair after the shower, and it stings, but each second you continue to remind yourself that this is how things are supposed to be.
He lets you have one of his shirts after the shower, and he cooks you a very late lunch, then Mingi has to leave for work. Your legs are still unsteady when you make the walk back home to your house.
You prepare yourself to be ignored again. You busy yourself with cleaning your room, reading a book, cleaning out weeds in the garden, sending out job applications, anything you can to make the hours go by. You don’t want to check your phone, but your fingers itch to see if Mingi has texted you.
Nothing.
It’s not until late that night when you know Mingi's shift has ended that he calls you.
”Hey,” you answer, walking over to your window. Mingis car is in the driveway, but you can't see him in his room.
”Hi there,” he greets you. ”Busy day?”
”Oh you know, the usual,” you say. ”Mom wasn’t too happy with me spending the night but she was very relieved to hear it was with you.”
You’re still dressed in his t-shirt, and throughout the day you've been bringing the collar up to your nose to smell him on it. You find yourself doing it now too.
”Her head would explode if she knew what you were doing at my house this morning,” he teases you.
”Good thing no one will ever know then,” you joke, though it is the truth. It was always meant to be a secret.
”Right,” he says. ”So, do you think maybe you could come over tomorrow? My parents will be gone, I start working in the afternoon again, I was thinking maybe-”
”Yes,” you interrupt him.
Mingi laughs, ”Okay. Uh, do I sound desperate if I say that you can come over as soon as you wake up?”
”A little, but I like it,” you giggle.
”Good.”
”I’ll see you tomorrow then!”
You sleep so much better when you know that you’re seeing Mingi tomorrow. You wake up feeling completely rested, and you’re giddy as you sort out your bedhead and get dressed.
Mingis parents aren’t home, and there’s a spare key resting atop the frame of the front door that you use to let yourself into their home. It’s still early, early enough that you know that Mingi is probably fast asleep in his bed. You try to keep your steps light as you trudge up the stairs and into his room. The curtains are drawn, only letting in a stream of sunlight that lights up a sliver on his bed. The orange morning sun is casting a few inches of light on his thigh, so you let it lead you.
It’s where you first press a kiss. He smells of sleep and Mingi, you inhale the scent of his skin between kisses you trail all over his thigh and over the front of his underwear. Mingi sighs softly in his sleep, hips twitching when your lips kiss the tip of his dick through the fabric of his boxers. You’re looking up to watch his face, but when he’s still asleep as you mouth over his entire cock, you crawl up and kiss his lips.
Mingi huffs and puffs, twisting underneath you. You continue to kiss all over his sleepy, confused face. He cracks an eye open, transforming from a groggy confusion to a content smile.
”Morning,” he mumbles happily.
”Hey,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. ”Can I suck you off?”
He lets out a drawn-out moan that tapers off into a sigh, nodding fervently. His hands are weak and his fingers fumble to find purchase in your hair when you pull his underwear down his legs and take him into your mouth right away.
He sounds so lovely, all raspy and deep from his sleep. Even though he’s just come to consciousness, Mingi makes sure to tell you how good you are making him feel. He moans your name, over and over, giving you so much praise it’s making your head swim.
It doesn’t take him long to get close, so you choke out permission for him to cum in your mouth, and Mingi listens eagerly. Even as he cums he’s vocal, talking you through it and reminding you to breathe all while he praises you for how well you take it. He’s so gentle it’s making you moan as you swallow, and when you pull off his dick you scramble to get his thigh between yours.
Mingis hands guide your hips over his thigh, setting the pace for you to hump him. He keeps the praise coming, and when he feels you getting close he pulls you down for a numbing kiss. You cum on his thigh while deep in a kiss, and Mingi holds you close to his chest as you come down from it.
Somewhere in the post-orgasm haze, you both fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet, Mingi lulls you to sleep with the sounds of his breath and his fingers drawing patterns on your back. When you wake up again it’s in a sweat. His little bedroom is swarming with heat, so you decide on a shower, where Mingi has your chest pressed against the white tiles while he fucks you until you’re cumming a second time, this time while full of his cock. He bites down on your shoulder to keep from cumming until he knows you’re fully satisfied, and only then does he pull out and let himself cum on your ass.
When you’re pulling his shirt over your head 10 minutes later while he cooks you lunch, you catch sight of marks on your shoulder. His teeth had dug hard enough to bloom bruises on your skin, and your mind reels at the fact that he has marked you up.
Mingi has you coming over the next morning too, after you’d spent the previous night sending him pictures of the bruises his teeth left on your skin. His responses had been sporadic as he focused on work, but it didn’t stop you from going into detail about all the things you want Mingi to do to you.
It’s like all the limits have finally vanished, neither of you are held back by the fears and worries of before. It’s just like it had been before you moved back, when you only had phone calls to rely on. Back then, the comfort had come from the fact that you didn’t have to actualize all the things you spoke about. You had time to feel each other out and discuss what you want, all without having to put yourself on the line for possible failure. Now, you’ve found reassurance in the fact that you do have a physical relationship.
You know each other in your bones. You can read all the queues his body gives you, and you know what every little expression on his face means. You can sense differences in his sighs and you know what his voice sounds like when it’s getting to be too much. There’s no room for doubt when Mingi is in front of you, you just intrinsically know what he needs.
The two of you fall into a routine. When morning comes, you skip over to Mingi's house and usually he’s still asleep, tired from his shift the day before. You wake him up with kisses or gentle touches, and if he’s hard by the time you get there, Mingi loves to wake up to you already taking care of him. Some mornings you simply lay beside him, tracing his face with your finger. His hair sticks to his forehead so you brush it back, giving soft kisses to the side of his temple. Your pointer finger follows the contour of his nose and lips, feeling the warmth of his breath exit his nose.
Even though he’s asleep and unaware of your worship, you can’t bring yourself to stop. It’s in these moments you can be fully truthful with your affections. Letting your hands linger on his chest for a moment longer, focusing on his heartbeat underneath your palm. You whisper things to him you’re too afraid to say when he can hear you, just to release yourself from the need. It satiates you enough, like this airing out of your system, enough to keep you going until the next morning when you once again get overwhelmed with the sight of his sleeping form blanketed by sunlight. There is only one thing you forbid yourself from saying, three words that you vow to never let yourself speak.
A full two weeks pass of this. Every day you explore something new, things you’ve spoken about on the phone over the last year. With Mingis parents working daytime, you have full freedom to be as loud as you want. Mingi also takes full advantage of a free house. One morning he bends you over the kitchen counter while breakfast is still cooking. His mouth is always right by your ear, moaning and telling you how bad he needs you, despite fucking you upstairs in his bedroom just an hour earlier. Another day he has you ride him on the couch right before he leaves for work. You love it most when Mingi randomly decides to go down on you, whether it’s in the shower or he makes you lie down on the kitchen table. When he’s got his mouth on you he’s possessive, making sure to mark up your thighs and hips. It happens so often that he sometimes ends up darkening the hickeys he left a few days earlier.
Then Mingis schedule changes, and he has to work in the mornings. It doesn’t stop you, but it puts a damper on things as you know them. You have to meet in the afternoons instead, and with Mingi's parents home you end up sitting through long dinners with his parents, reminiscing and talking. It makes sex a little difficult, and Mingi hates the fact that you have to be quiet. He picks you up in his car a few times, but quick head while parked at the edge of the woods is a harsh contrast to the hours of sex you’d been able to have a few weeks earlier.
You’re caught by surprise one day when your phone calls and you rush to pick up only to find Yunhos voice at the other end. You’re so surprised that you pull your phone away and check the name on the screen, and sure enough it’s Yunho's contact name.
”Hey,” you reply, trying to play off the shock.
”Not happy to hear from me?” he teases.
”Shut up, you know I am!” you joke back.
He laughs in return and makes some small talk, telling you how much fun it was to see you and asking you how you’ve been.
”But, hey, uh,” he interjects. ”You ended up leaving with my shirt, is there any chance I could get it back?”
”Shit,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. ”You’re right, I totally forgot. Uh, do you want me to bring it by today?”
”That’d be perfect, thanks!”
When Yunho hangs up the phone, you chew nervously at your lip. Getting the shirt back to Yunho wouldn’t be an issue, it’s just that it’s in Mingi’s room somewhere, and asking him to locate it would probably lead to another weird moment where Mingi says something petty. You’re pacing around your room when your eyes land on his driveway and you remember that Mingi is at work. You’re just about to call Yunho and tell him today’s gonna be impossible, before the solution hits you.
Mingis mom opens the door to their home when you knock, and beams at the sight of you on their doorstep.
”Sweetheart! Hi there, Mingi is at work right now, I’m afraid,” she tells you while wrapping her arms around you for a hug. She always does this, even though you’ve been spending a lot of time over at their house recently, Mingis mother hugs you every time she sees you.
”I know, it’s just that I left something in Mingi's room that I need to get if that’s okay?”
So she lets you run up to his bedroom. You feel a little bad while rummaging through his room, but it doesn’t take you long to find Yunhos flannel shirt bunched up halfway underneath Mingis dresser. Mingis mom tries to convince you to stay for dinner, but you tell her you have to get going, and within moments you’re in your car on the way to Yunhos house.
It’s another picture-perfect day outside, the sky is a pristine blue and the wind is blowing just enough to bring some relief in this heat. Yunho is outside in his front yard, with the rear of his car jacked up.
”Hey, you!” you call, getting out of your car. ”Car trouble?”
You can tell by the fact that he has picked apart the entire wheelhouse that it’s not just something routine, but Yunho shrugs his shoulders.
”Not something I can’t fix,” he smiles. ”Dude, you’re quick. I called you, what, 30 minutes ago?”
You nod, sitting down on the tire Yunho has removed.
”Honestly, I was losing my mind at home. I’ve been doing jack shit for days now, I think I might die out of boredom,” you complain.
”Oh, so you’re saying you left the minute you got my call just because you had nothing better to do? It’s not just because you love me?” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, wiping grease from his forehead.
”Can’t it be both? And anyway, I had to go over to Mingis to get your shirt, so I didn’t leave ’the minute I got your call’,” you say, sticking out your tongue at him.
”It was at Mingi's house?” he asks.
Something comes over Yunhos face that you can’t pinpoint.
”Yeah.. I left with him during the party, and we went to his house afterward.” You hope he buys it as a reasonable enough explanation, it’s at the very least true. Just not the entire truth.
Yunho shrugs, and his eyes lose the edge they just had. He smiles, ”Leaving in one man's shirt to go to another dude's house, all in one night.. Impressive, I’ll give you that.”
”Fuck off!” you huff, kicking Yunhos shoe.
He laughs, slapping down a greasy hand on your knee to let you know that he’s just joking, even though you already know that.
”Although…” you trail off. ”Mingi did say that it’s your move.”
”Oh yeah, it is. I wasn’t expecting you to fall for it, though.” Yunhos's voice is still teasing, but not in the same way that Mingis usually is. You can tell that Yunho is just friendly, that there’s no flirting laced in his words or tone. It makes you miss Mingi.
”I don’t fall for things like that,” you retort, but quickly find your mind going to all the shirts Mingi has let you borrow these past weeks. You wear them all day, every day, even when you come back home after spending time with him. You even sleep in them, and you frequently bury your face in the collar to smell his laundry detergent. The few times he gives you a shirt he’s already worn you end up getting so worked up about it that you think you’d be getting yourself off while smelling it, if it wasn’t for the fact that Mingi now has you cumming at least twice a day.
So, perhaps you do fall for tricks like that. But only when it’s Mingi.
Yunho goes silent, and you can see that he’s chewing on the inside of his lip.
”What’s wrong?” you ask him.
His eyes flick over to yours for a second, then he looks at his hands. You’ve never seen Yunho this deep in thought outside an academic setting, and something about it is making you uneasy.
”You know,” he begins, but the words die as quickly as he says them.
”Yes?” you try again.
He pauses, looking up at you.
”You know that Mingi is my best friend,” he says. ”And I love him, I do, but sometimes he acts like an idiot. And I can’t- I just hate seeing it, you know?”
”Okay,” you mumble, only growing more confused with every word Yunho says.
”I don’t think it was right how he came here with you, then spent the whole night talking to everyone but you. But, he just gets so weird sometimes, right? And like I said, I love him, he’s my best friend, but- we just thought it would be different when you came back home. So, Wooyoung and I decided to see what would happen if I lent you my shirt, and-.. Yeah.”
”What… What are you saying?” Your voice is getting quieter. The cheery happiness from before has retired, and there’s something strange in the atmosphere now. You can’t understand what Yunho is getting at, but there’s a part of you that wonders and wishes. A part of you that can read between the lines of what Yunho is too afraid to say out loud.
”It’s not my place to say,” Yunho says, looking everywhere but your eyes.
”At least tell me what you intended to do with this shirt.” It’s still in your hands, his flannel, and your fingers are tightening around it.
”We just figured that maybe he needed a push,” he tells you, sounding so sheepish.
”You wanted him to get jealous?” you finally say it out loud. Yunho doesn’t meet your eyes, but it’s a clear enough answer. So you ask, ”What do you know about me and Mingi?”
”In all honesty? I don’t know anything. And it used to hurt me because Mingi is my best friend and I’ve known him since we were kids. But that’s what clued me in because I know for a fact that he would have told me if you were dating,” Yunho says. You’re holding your breath while listening to him. He continues, ”I, uh, I accidentally saw the preview of a text you sent him once. Something about.. well, that’s not important. But, I realized it then. We all thought it was just a matter of time, and that you’d make it official when you moved back home.”
You’re hearing every single thing Yunho is saying, but the words just won’t stick. You’re becoming more aware of the birds singing and the sound of the wind among the treetops.
”Mingi is in love with you,” Yunho says. At last. The rest of his words blur together. He has been, a long time, doesn’t know it. Yunhos mouth is moving, and you know what he’s saying, but the rational part of you that knows this can’t be true has stopped listening long ago.
Mingi is not in love with you. He’s just not, that can’t be true.
Yunho scrambles towards you, hands landing on each of your knees. He looks so concerned and his mouth is still moving.
”-you okay? What’s wrong?” You hear once your brain stops blocking your ears. You’re crying, tears falling from your cheeks down onto your hands.
”What did I say?” Yunho asks frantically.
And the confessions start rolling. You tell Yunho about everything, from that first night to everything that has happened since you returned back home. You tell him about the weird moment when Mingi drove you home after the party.
”Don’t you hear it though? He’s in love with you! My god, I think he always has been,” Yunho says.
You scoff, ”He ignored me for four whole months during my first semester away. He’s not in love with me, this is just.. out of comfort, it’s just easy.”
”You’re both in denial. You know what I’m hearing? That Mingi was so heartbroken when you moved away that he couldn’t even be a good friend. That didn’t just extend to you, by the way. He barely hung out with us during that time, and it only changed when you came home for Christmas,” Yunho tries to lay it out for you.
”You’re wrong. You’re wrong-”
”I can’t tell you what to believe,” Yunho says. His hand squeezes your knee, leaving dirty marks of grease on your skin. It’s a gesture of comfort, and you appreciate it for what it is. ”You need to talk to Mingi. Maybe disarm him by telling him that you’re in love with him first.”
The air feels different when you drive back home. It feels heavier, somehow. Yunhos words bear an incredible weight and no matter how many times you run them through your head they don’t get any easier to process. It would be different if it had come from Seonghwa or Hongjoong, who would say practically anything to comfort you. You don’t think Yunho would sweeten his words like they would, or even at all.
You sit through a quiet lunch with your mom, unable to get your thoughts in any other direction than the conversation you just had with Yunho. For some reason, you feel absolutely stuck there, and you can’t see a way for things to work. It feels as if time has been suspended in wait for your next move. The hours tick on though. You lay in your bed and watch the numbers on your alarm clock change. Seconds turn into minutes, and then hours, and your mind is still stuck in the same place as it has since you left Yunhos house.
You don’t realize when the clock indicates that Mingi is ending his shift. The numbers are just ticking, hypnotizing you. You startle when your phone calls and the pit in your stomach grows when you know that it’s probably Mingi.
Your fingers move on pure muscle memory as you pick up your phone and swipe to answer the call, then raise the phone to your ear. Through the phone, you can hear Mingis car running.
”Hello?” Mingi asks. ”You know, it’s usually the person who picks up the phone who speaks first.”
”Sorry,” you croak. You don’t even recognize the sound of your voice.
”Are you okay?” Mingi sounds so concerned it makes your stomach twist. It’s still the same Mingi you have known all your life, and he’s the same man you’ve been fucking the past weeks, but something feels as if it has fundamentally changed. You try to listen to his voice, read it for any hint of tenderness you’d have previously missed. You can’t make out any, it’s the same Mingi as always.
”It’s been a weird day,” you settle for.
”Then what do you say about changing into your swimsuit and we go to the lake? It’s so hot out, I can’t stand to be home. And maybe it can take your mind off of things?” he suggests.
”Yeah, sounds good.”
”I’ll pick you up in 5, better hurry!”
Mingi hangs up. Your head feels all fuzzy and distant, but you pull yourself out of bed and get changed. While putting your clothes over your swimsuit you realize you’re in one of Mingis t-shirts. Every single bit of this feels like a divine punishment. To be dressed in Mingis clothes and have marks in the shape of his mouth decorate your chest and the insides of your thighs, to be so thoroughly claimed by him but yet not be his, is agonizing.
You’re aware that Mingi would park in your driveway and come knocking at your door, wanting to impress and appease your parents at every turn. You just can’t deal with that today, so you hurriedly make your way down the stairs and out your door to wait for him outside. You’re just in time, because Mingi is making the turn up your street and it’s only half a minute before he’s pulling up to your house and you’re getting in his car.
”Hey, I missed you!” Mingi sounds cheerful, sporting a smile so big it’s splitting. You hate the way that time and space curl around Mingi each time you see him as if he presents to you in technicolor and slow motion. Your eyes pass over each feature, trying your best to handle what just seeing him does to your body.
Mingi keeps a pair of extra sunglasses in his car for you, and when you’re sat down he leans over to place them on your face. The gesture is enough to make your breath hitch, but he uses it as an opportunity to lean in for a swift kiss, and you feel as if you’re floating.
Today, Mingi has Fleetwood Mac playing softly throughout the car.
You’re just looking at Mingi with this pit in your stomach, this sense of impending doom sitting heavy in your abdomen. The world feels slow and strangely saturated. The seconds stretch on infinitely, allowing you plenty of time to watch the sunlight adorn Mingi's skin.
You’re aware that you can’t stop staring. When Mingi parks the car and you start making the short walk through the trees to get to the lake, your eyes are always set on him. From the towel slung over his shoulder to the sweat that has broken out and is trickling down the nape of his neck. You’re trying to make sense of the sight in front of you, the same Mingi you’ve made this walk with a hundred times, the only difference being that he’s had you in the most intimate and tender ways now. It forces you to rewrite history, the memories of your childhood innocence are permanently changed. If only you had known then, while sitting on the big rock and throwing pebbles out to break the still surface of the water if you had only known that the boy handing you rocks would end up being the man you fall in love with fifteen years later.
Your stupid, stupid heart. Sometimes you think the ribs, flesh, and muscle containing it won’t be enough to keep it in place. It beats so hard and fast it billows from your chest, through your arms, and out to the very tip of each finger. You have to flex them to stop that lovesick tingle from numbing you.
The water is beautiful. The lake looks just like you remember it, the wind is blowing slight ripples upon the surface and the trees are swinging lightly. Besides the gentle hum of nature, the place is completely undisturbed and it’s just you and Mingi here today.
You're placing your towels down and undressing in silence, barely glancing at each other. You sneak little glances at him in the corner of your eye, wondering what he’s thinking. Yunhos words are still echoing through your head, getting louder and more unbearable for every minute that passes.
Mingi is wading into the water before you know it, covered up to his knees, then thighs, then his waist, and eventually he points his arms and dives in entirely. He erupts back through the surface with a shriek that echoes over the lake, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.
He rushes back up to where you’re laying on your towel, shoulders bunched up in reaction to the cold water. Mingi shakes his head above you to force droplets onto your bare skin, laughing loudly when you yell in protest. Things feel so extraordinarily regular, it’s as if you have transported back ten years in time. Even when Mingi gets down on his towel and leans over to kiss you, it still feels so normal. It just feels so right with Mingi, like this is what you’re meant to be doing.
Mingis's mouth is cold and wet from his dip in the water, and his hair continues to drip onto your face, but you find it hard to care when he wraps you up in a long, passionate kiss. He’s on his stomach on his towel now, as close to you as he can get. Your heart beats with a discernible nervosity at the fact that you are laid out in the open with Mingi making out with you. There would be quite a walk for anyone else to get here, and you would probably be able to hear branches breaking or even a car parking way before anyone could walk upon the scene and spot the two of you. The risk of getting caught here is low, but you still feel like you’re on display.
Mingis cold fingers wrap around your jaw where he keeps you firmly as his tongue enters your mouth. The kissing goes to your head very quickly, dulling all your senses as all your thoughts are replaced by what Mingi is doing with his mouth. He knows you so well that he pulls away seconds before you lose your breath, letting you regain it while he kisses the corner of your mouth softly. His hand trails over your chest and down your stomach carefully, feeling the way your ribcage heaves as your breaths get steadier.
Mingis eyes follow the path of his hand before he abruptly stops by your knee.
”What’s that?” he asks you. You have to crane your neck to see what he’s looking at. Not much remains of it, but there are still faint marks of dirt and grease on the top of your knees. Just on the outside of your leg, there’s an unmistakable fingerprint.
”Oh,” you mumble. Mingi detaches himself from you with a quickness that makes you lose your breath, and you scramble to get up too.
”I don’t- I feel like I don’t even need to ask who left that on you,” Mingi says.
”It was Yunho,” you rush out, wanting so badly to resolve this before Mingis thoughts spin and twist so bad that you can’t untangle them. It’s clear from the look on his face that your words and their haste only have the opposite effect.
”Yunho?” he questions, getting quieter.
”It’s not all what you think. He called me about that shirt he let me borrow a few weeks ago, remember? I went to his house to give it back and we got to talking. You know, just.. stuff, about life. I ended up getting emotional and he comforted me. I was crying and he put his hands on my knees, that’s all.” You read Mingis's face for any changes, but nothing happens. He only looks at you, taking in your half-truth excuse of an explanation.
”What is it that Yunho can comfort you about, but I can’t?” Mingi asks, his eyes staring into yours with so much intensity you feel like crying. You had expected everything but that. You’d rather Mingi accuse you of getting intimate with Yunho, that you’re lying and it’s a terrible cover story you’re spinning. You could defend yourself from all that, but not this.
”That’s not… Mingi, it’s not like that. I didn’t just choose to go there for comfort. It just happened, I just started crying, and that’s it,” you urge.
Mingis legs are drawn up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around them. He looks so small and vulnerable. His eyebrows are starting to furrow together, and you’re finding it hard to tell if it’s anger or sadness that is starting to show on his face. Both possibilities terrify you equally.
”Why?” he wonders, simply. ”Why did you cry?”
You can physically see the restraints he’s putting on himself to hear you out, to not race away with his worries. You wish it means what you want it to mean. That Mingis vulnerability was an act of love instead of self-preservation. He’s probably sat there worried at the threat of Yunho taking you away and replacing his role. That the fun you’ve had the past weeks, and the year before that, would be over, just like that. You wonder if he views it as a hindrance more than anything. Mingi has finally scored a way to have sex on the regular, without the commitment or worries of starting with someone new. What you have is a lot of comfort, and you suppose he doesn’t want to lose that.
Still, even this feels like a lot more than you deserve of him. If you can’t have Mingi in the ways that you want, you’ll have to do your best to preserve the arrangement you have now.
”It’s not important,” you mumble. You know it’s not a good enough answer.
Mingi lets the word hover in the air for a moment, pondering on whether he should let it go.
In the end, he decides to speak. ”There’s nothing you can tell me that would scare me off. You know that, right?”
”That’s not true,” you whisper, so quiet it’s almost a hiss. ”There is something I can’t ever tell you.”
Tears start to fall down your cheeks and it’s now a conscious effort to keep your sobs contained within your chest. The lake is still breathtaking, the wind is still and the sun is bright in the perfect blue sky. It’s a beautiful day to get your heart broken, at the very least.
Mingi stretches his fingers and you watch the tendons twitch and flex. You’re brought back to what you were doing earlier, shaking off your nerves.
”What if I say it first?” he says. You look up at his eyes.
”What?”
”That I love you,” he tells you. His eyes are big and dark, brimming with tears of his own. ”If I say it first, will you say it too?”
”Mingi-”
”I do love you,” he begins. ”It’s stupid, looking back, because I think I’ve loved you since before you left. I loved you that first night, I already knew it, and I felt so stupid when I woke up the morning after. Doing that with you when I was drunk out of my mind made me feel like shit. And then I felt even more like shit, because- because, it made me realize that it hadn’t been the way I wanted it to be. So I took comfort in the fact that it was over the phone, and I still had time to do it right. To start right, with you, I mean. I wanted our first time to be perfect. I knew I loved you when I kept thinking about it. But then, when you finally came back, it truly clicked. For a while, I had figured that I’d know how I felt about you when we had sex for the first time. But I was wrong because all it took was me seeing you to know that I’m in love with you.”
”Mingi,” you whisper, again, over and over. It’s all you can bring yourself to say, like a prayer, before you crawl over to him and press your lips to his. It doesn’t matter that it takes him a beat to respond, you don’t care at all anymore about how things get awkward or strange. You continue to kiss over his mouth until he’s ready to kiss you back, when time finally catches up to you and it dawns on you both that this is real.
You can’t stop kissing him, breathing out his name every time you part.
”I love you,” you mumble into his mouth. ”I’m so in love with you.”
Mingi smiles into the kiss. Your senses are overwhelmed with the taste of both your tears and the fact that you’re both now smiling and giggling, repeating ’I love you’s until the words merge.
He pulls you into his arms, tumbling over into the grass. He stops kissing you to just look at you, and you watch him too. Your Mingi, in the grass by the lake. Finally, your Mingi.
#mingi x reader#ateez angst#ateez imagine#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#mingi x y/n
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christmas break (college bf! au)
content warnings: f! reader, fluff, smut, oral sex f! receiving, gagging
word count: 2.4k
a/n: merry christmas from your sweet boyfriend who also doms you :)
You watch the minutes pass on your computer clock as you sit under the punishing fluorescent lights of the library. You’ve been done with your assignments for a half hour, but have dutifully decided to stay with Matty until he finishes researching his term paper. It’s some rumination on Sartre you don’t quite understand but you told Matty you’d keep him company and you intend to keep your word.
He’s been homesick all semester, you can just tell. He takes every opportunity to bemoan the lack of brown sauce in New England and show you photos of his family preparing for the holidays back home in Wilmslow. In an effort to make him feel better, you’d driven to a specialty food store to buy him the specific chocolates he’d been craving the most. A few weeks ago, you’d looked up flights to Manchester together, hoping that with a few tricks you’d learned from a friendly compsci acquaintance, you’d be able to score a deal. But Matty’s on work-study and can barely make enough money to cover his living expenses, let alone a transatlantic flight. It will be his first Christmas without his family, no matter how he spends it.
He slams the top of his laptop down suddenly, sighing dramatically as he does. You rub your boyfriend’s thigh in hollow reassurance.
“You ready to head up?” he asks.
You nod. “Did you finish your research?”
“Fuck the research. I can’t focus, my Adderall has worn off anyway.”
“Okay,” you acquiesce, beginning to pack your belongings into your bag. The air is thick with something unsaid. Matty would never try to make you feel bad, but your excitement for the winter holiday is not something he shares. It makes you apprehensive to broach the subject of even going on a date to the local light show. You can’t imagine that would make him feel better.
You both trudge up to your dorm, as is your ritual. Matty always follows you to your door and waits for you to take your backpack off so you can give him a proper hug before he heads home. You would sleep together if you could, but the stiff single beds you rent are hardly comfortable, let alone sexy. At your door, you set your things down and envelop Matty between cold, brittle arms, squeezing him gently so hopefully he knows you care.
“I was thinking,” you start, pulling away to look in his eyes, “We have room for a guest at my house. I think my parents would be okay with you staying over the holidays as long as you take the spare bedroom. Would you like that? I know it’s not home home and my parents will definitely try to suss you out, but there will be warm food and Christmas traditions and–”
Matty cuts you off with a soft kiss on your lips. “I’d love to stay with your family, babe.”
Your face breaks into a grin. You nod slowly.
“Okay. Okay, then it’s decided. I’ll get them to cave.”
“My little meddler,” Matty beams, ruffling your hair. You catch his hands and move them off, smoothing your hair down.
“I’m their only daughter and they haven’t seen me in months,” you shrug.
“I love you,” he says, seriously.
You fall into his chest and smile, “I love you, too.”
-
It feels weird dragging your carry-on luggage up the pathway to the home that used to be yours. You have Matty in tow whereas the last time you lived here, you had never met him before. You’re transformed, yet when you put your key in the lock and step across the threshold, you feel like the same girl who lived there for eighteen years. You feel like a child again somehow.
“Mom, Dad! Matty and I are here!” you shout out. Your mom comes scurrying from the kitchen.
“Hi, how are you?” she asks you as she pulls you into a hug, rubbing your shoulders, “I thought you were supposed to have stopped growing. Harold, get in here, she’s grown three inches!”
You shake your head, chuckling. Your mom opens her arms warmly and holds Matty in a welcome hug.
“I’m Carol, nice to meet you,” she says.
Matty introduces himself as your dad shuffles into the entryway.
“Ah, there she is! I had a work call that ran long, shutting down for the holidays it can be a lot,” he leans down to hug you, “We missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” you sigh, “Especially missed your cooking.”
“Speaking of, I’m making Papa’s chicken tonight!” your dad exclaims, “Matty, I hope you aren’t a picky eater because we’ve planned a whole spread to welcome our girl back.” Your dad reaches out, offering his hand to Matty as he speaks.
“Not at all, sir,” Matty replies.
“Good then,” your dad states, “Why don’t I show you to your room, Matty? Let our girl get settled.”
You give Matty an apologetic look and head over towards the opposite side of the house and to your old room. It’s been preserved in its perfect adolescent state of whimsy, but something isn’t right. It's weird that it used to hold all of your clothes, all the evidence of your accomplishments, all your turbulent, hormonal emotions and now it’s like a movie set or a museum exhibit. Or an archeological site. Your bed is made with a childhood favorite stuffed animal in the middle against the pillows. You pick her up and give her a quick hug, she smells like home. You used to not be able to smell it because you smelled like home, too.
You take care unpacking your clothes, meticulously folding your sweaters and jeans, and placing them in your dresser. You open the windows to rid the place of the smell of nostalgia and then head back to the kitchen nook, where Matty is talking to your mom. You put on a brave face and massage Matty’s shoulders sweetly before sitting down with them.
-
When everyone’s departed to their separate rooms at night, you take an extra-long time doing your evening routine. You press each serum and treatment into your skin extra carefully and brush each tooth individually. When you’re sure your parents will have fallen asleep, you tiptoe to the other side of the house and open Matty’s door. He’s tucked into bed, back against the pillows, and phone in his hand. It almost flies out when he recognizes you in the doorframe.
“Fuckin’ hell! Thought you were the grim reaper,” Matty whisper-shouts as you make your way to the bed and tuck yourself in next to him. His arm pulls you close to him on instinct.
“You alright?” he asks.
“Yeah, just missed you,” you whisper.
“Awwwwww,” he pouts condescendingly, “Well, I’d love to have you stay, but your dad might actually take me outside and shoot me if he found you in here.”
“Oh god, did he give you the talk?”
“Just a little, don’t worry about me,” he consoles, “I kind of respect it anyways. I’m sure I’ll be the same with our daughter one day.”
“Our daughter?” you ask, looking up at his eyes.
“Too much? My daughter then. I dunno I just… I get the protective instinct.”
“It’s not too much,” you tell him, leaning over him to kiss him on the lips, “Very cute and very appreciated.”
Matty smiles into your mouth and you move to sit on his lap, straddling him comfortably.
“Well I really like your dad, too,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, he really loves you,” Matty states, rubbing circles onto your hip, “You can tell that everything he does is for you.” You get shy at that.
“It’s fine, you can call me spoiled.”
“Not spoiled if you deserve it,” he says.
“I want you to spoil me,” you say into his ear, “Need you, baby.”
“Baby, I can’t, Harold will have my fuckin’ balls.” You giggle in response.
“Will you just put it in, then? I’ll be so quiet, I promise,” you plead. You see a familiar glint in his eyes and feel him hardening under you.
“One sound and I take it out, you understand?” he tuts.
You nod eagerly. “I understand.” You move his pajama pants down and take yours off, moving your panties to the side as you sink down onto him. You breathe wildly for a moment when you’ve taken him all the way. Your world is spinning.
“You okay?” he asks. You nod, “C’mere.”
You fall into his chest, totally content, and start kissing his bare collarbone. You lay the side of your head on his shoulder and try to catch his eyes. He leans down and nips at your earlobe.
“Bein’ so good for me, baby,” the praise makes you squirm and you clench around him repeatedly, looking for some relief. “I can feel that,” he teases. You pout in response. Matty’s hands reach for the hem of your oversized nightshirt and lift it over your head, revealing your naked breasts to the cold night air. His hands cover them instantly and his head ducks down to take one of your nipples into his mouth.
“Matty,” you warn. He responds by lapping his tongue all over you, sucking you more insistently. He bites gently at the sensitive bud, and you whine loudly, involuntarily.
“Shhhhh,” Matty tsks, looking up at you, “You don’t want me to stop do you?”
You shake your head back and forth so quickly you think it might fall off. Then it tips back; you look at the ceiling fan hoping the sight will ground you but it doesn’t. Your body is filled with pleasure and you have no outlet.
“Matty, can I move? Please? I promise I’ll still be quiet.” Matty huffs frustratedly and lifts you off of him harshly. You look at him sadly while he gets up to get out of bed. You reach for his hand as he does, feeling as though you might cry if he leaves you hanging.
“Please, Matty, I didn’t know that talking counted. I need you!” you say as loudly as you comfortably can. His hand slips out of yours as he heads towards the closet and kneels down to rummage through his luggage, leaving you dripping on his sheets. When he turns around, he has a tie in his hands.
“What’s that for?” you ask.
“Well I was gonna take you to a nice dinner while we were here,” he says playfully, “But now…” He taps your bottom lip, a command to open your mouth. When you do, he places the silky fabric on your tongue, looking into your eyes for permission as he ties a snug knot at the back of your head. “Need to shut you up if I’m gonna give you what you want. Would you like that? Gonna be a good girl and take it nice and quiet?”
You nod, drool already pooling in your mouth, soaking through the tie. Matty pushes you down so you’re flat on your back. You make grabby hands at him as soon as you’re down, still trying to be good. He smiles good-naturedly and takes his pants all the way off before moving on to you, removing your last stitch of clothing: a heart-printed pair of cotton underwear you’ve probably had since high school. He kneels before you – knowing he’s being watched closely – and slowly brings his mouth down between your legs, breathing all over you before licking a broad stripe up your soaking cunt. You gasp, trying to stay as quiet as possible as he starts to fuck you with his tongue; filling you and leaving you again. You grab his hair and try to maneuver him a bit higher to your clit.
Matty takes the hint and starts working on you there, switching between flicking his tongue up and down and sucking at you. You can feel the pressure in your body building and you accidentally let out a moan. Matty stops for a second, looking up at you. You realize what you’ve done too late, slapping a hand to your mouth. Matty chuckles a little before leaning down again, thrusting two fingers into you.
“Keep that hand over your mouth, okay, baby?” You nod, delirious from lack and need and anticipation. Matty’s mouth finds your clit once more, licking side to side and keeping in rhythm with his hand fucking in and out of you. You can feel your moans trying to escape on your hand as you begin to buck your hips in time with Matty’s assault on your pussy. You tug on his hair a little to catch his eyes and nod, silently communicating to him. Then he’s sucking on your clit and you’re a goner. You burst into flames as you cum, clenching his fingers as he works you through it until the pleasure feels like pain. You remove your hand from your mouth and gasp, pulling your boyfriend away from your tortured cunt.
Matty kneels over you a second later, untying the gag, wiping your mouth gently, and pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” you say playfully.
“Greedy, greedy.”
“Not greedy, I just want you to feel good,” you tell him earnestly. Matty lifts the tie up so you can see the wet spot you left on it.
“I’m gonna use this when you go to sleep don’t worry about me.”
“But I’m here now.”
“I know but I’m really quite scared of your dad,” he laughs a little as he says it, but you believe him.
“Okay,” you kiss him hard and long, “Goodnight.”
“G’night, baby.”
-
On Christmas morning, Matty knocks on your door before going to the living room. You beckon him in to sit on your bed, careful to leave the door open in case your parents wake up. You give him a quick kiss and then turn around to grab something from your dresser.
“Close your eyes,” you tell him. Matty looks at you questioning but finally gives in. You place the item on his legs and indicate for him to look.
On his lap is a set of pajamas, matching ones that your whole family wears.
“My mom gets them for all of us every Christmas, you don’t want to be caught without,” Matty is quiet, “Do you not like them?”
“I love them,” he says, pulling you into a hug, “I’m so grateful to your family for taking me in this Christmas. I felt like a bit of an orphan, to be honest.”
You hold his face in your hands.
“You always have a place here, okay?”
“Okay,” he smiles shyly.
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
#matty healy fanfic#matty healy x reader#matty healy x y/n#matty healy fluff#matty healy fanfiction#matty Healy#matty healy smut
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Jily one-shot: That Time of the Month
Summary: Lily isn't feeling well while attempting to finish her Head Girl duties. Luckily James is there to help.
For @jilymicrofics prompt 'flush'
words: 2600+
genre: fluff (with a bit of physical hurt/comfort)
rated: G
@athenasparrow you seemed curious about this one!
AO3
...
“Evans.” James raised his gaze from the detention slips he was trying to go through, sitting at a desk in the Heads’ Office. “I know you take great pride in finishing your work when you’re supposed to, rather than doing things the Sirius way - such as, doing your homework 5 minutes before the class - but you look like you’ve been hit by several powerful Bat-Bogey Hexes in a row. Are you OK?”
“I'd be better if you didn’t interrupt me, Potter,” Lily snapped. James gave her a disbelieving look and she huffed in response. “I’m doing just fine, I just really need to have this done before the meeting…”
James got up from his chair and stopped next to her, covering the piece of parchment she had been reading with his hand. “You’re a really bad liar, you know. C’mon, you can tell me if something is wrong.”
Lily muttered something incoherent that James couldn’t understand.
“Pardon?” He raised his eyebrow.
“I’m. on. my. period. right now. There. Are you happy?” she growled, her cheeks and ears getting some extra color.
“Oh.” James wasn’t sure what he was supposed to answer to that. He knew that periods were a perfectly normal thing but the girls he knew rarely talked about them, at least near him, unless they absolutely had to, for example if it was hindering their flying during Quidditch practices. “I’m… sorry?”
“Well, don’t be. Now, will you finally let me do my work?” She gave him a gloomy look and attempted to steal the piece of parchment back from him.
Something about Lily’s demeanor finally gave James his tongue back. “No.”
“Excuse me?”
James took a step closer to her. “Lily, as your fellow Head Student I don’t want you to force yourself to work when you could and should be taking care of yourself. I can handle this.”
“You’re not going to give up, are you?” Lily glared up at him but her voice had lost a lot of its earlier sharpness.
“Afraid not. Not without a fight, at least.” James grinned, pretending to draw his wand from his pocket. Lily’s shoulders hunched and she hid her face into her hands.
“Fine,” she mumbled against the palms of her hands. “If you let me finish our patrol schedule now, I promise to be a good girl and take a nap after that.”
“Alright.” James agreed, choosing to take that as a win, and turned his attention back to the detention slips. He only had time to read through a couple of them before Lily muttered to herself: “No, this can’t be right.”
“What can’t?” he inquired, and Lily’s expression told him she hadn’t realized she was speaking aloud.
“I accidentally put Fawley on a patrol twice in the same week. And Price, I forgot she can’t patrol with Lovegood; they just had this big fight a couple of weeks ago and haven’t spoken to each other since then. And looks like Crouch is missing from here altogether…”
“Okay, Evans,” James clapped his hands together. “I believe it’s time for an intervention. I’m going to take this,” he pulled the schedule from Lily’s hands, “and I’m going to use a neat little charm the boys and I came up with when we were… uh, inventing something. It should help me put all the names in order with a single tap of my wand. I just need a list of who can and can’t patrol together.”
Lily sighed and handed him a list she usually kept hidden in a locked drawer. The new Head Students had quickly noticed in the beginning of the semester that it was quite necessary; the Prefects could be a rather dramatic group of people when they wanted to.
“I haven’t written it down yet but the other day I heard that McGriffiths and Gudgeon are dating now… so unless we want to keep checking if they’re snogging in a broom closet instead of patrolling… Ugh, bloody hell, literally!”
James was confused by Lily’s last exclamation until he turned his eyes from the list back to her. She was wincing, her hand on her lower abdomen and her eyes closed. James hated seeing her in pain and wished there was something more he could do to help.
“I’ll make sure that McGriffiths and Gudgeon won’t be patrolling together, then,” he said briskly. “But now, you go lay down on that couch; everything is under control here.” He basically pushed Lily up from her chair and off to the couch before she could even protest much. Producing a blanket with a wave of his wand, he waited until Lily had settled down and draped it over her.
“Thanks, James,” she muttered from under the blanket. James’ heart skipped a beat when she mentioned his first name.
“Any time,” he nearly stuttered, before returning back to his desk.
James quickly finished up the patrol schedule and organized the rest of the detention slips before standing up and approaching Lily again.
“I’m going to get something to eat from the kitchens. Do you need anything?”
Lily seemed slightly taken aback by his question. “I don’t…” She winced again. “Actually… some hot tea and maybe some fruit would be nice… And…” she hesitated for one moment, “if it isn’t too much to ask… Madam Pomfrey has a potion for the cramps so if you’re able to stop by the Hospital Wing…”
“Of course I can!” James exclaimed instantly. ”You could have asked earlier instead of just squirming around!”
”Sorry that I had other things in my mind!” Lily said, annoyed. “It’s not always this bad… I don’t understand what’s with it this month…”
James softened again, understanding that she wasn’t really annoyed at him but the pain and possibly the hormones made her a bit snappier than usual.
“Okay.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Worry not, I’ll get you your potion. Can’t have my Head Girl suffering while we could be… working hard to make sure we’ll have a very productive Prefects’ meeting in a few hours. You get some rest now.”
“Alright. Thanks. Go get your dinner, Potter,” Lily mumbled, pulling the blanket higher up her body.
…
It took James less than 30 minutes to gather all the things he had planned to gather. His first stop was in the kitchens and when he explained his situation to the elves (mentioning that someone who’s important to him is not feeling well so he wanted to surprise her with a meal), he got an entire basket of food from them. It had some tea, pumpkin juice, fruits and sandwiches in it but the elves had also snuck in a chocolate bar, a piece of cake and Lily’s favorite pie. James left the kitchens thanking the elves over and over again and promising to do something for them in return.
Madam Pomfrey was happily surprised when James asked her if she could put some potion for cramps into the vial he had brought with him. His face heated up when she asked him if the potion was for his girlfriend.
“N-no! Not a girlfriend! She’s just a… friend. Who happens to be a girl, yes. I just offered to get her the potion because I was on my way to pick something from the ki…” he remembered he wasn’t really supposed to know how to get into the kitchens, “um, the Great Hall anyway.”
“Oh, alright,” Madam Pomfrey nodded. “Well, regardless, I think you’re doing a nice thing for her.”
She handed him the potion and also a hot water bottle and he left, feeling rather warm and hoping he could go out for a fly to organize his thoughts but remembering that he still needed to complete his task.
Before he managed to return to the Head’s Office, however, Sirius’ voice spoke via a tiny mirror hidden in his pocket:
“Prongs! Where are you?”
He put the basket he was carrying down, fishing the mirror from his pocket, and soon he was staring at his best friend’s face in it.
“I was in the kitchens… and the hospital wing. Why do you ask?”
“Why were you in the hospital wing?” Sirius kept pressing, ignoring his question. “Did a bludger hit you again or something?”
James wasn’t about to reveal what he had really been doing there because he knew Sirius would tease him mercilessly. He said vaguely: “Something like that, yeah”.
“I didn’t know you had a Quidditch practice today.” Sirius raised his eyebrow. “Actually, I saw McKinnon a little while ago and she didn’t look like she had been flying recently.”
“How do you know that?” James questioned.
“Because she was quite busy snogging D… Never mind that. This isn’t about her, this is about you. You weren’t actually hit by a bludger, were you?”
“Why are you such a scent hound today?” James countered.
“Because you’re acting weird and as your best friend it’s my duty to find out why,” Sirius stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask you if the map is in the dormitory? Pete thinks Mulciber and his lovely gang are up to something again and Regulus might also be involved somehow… I wanted to check if there’s any truth to that statement.”
“Yeah, it’s there in my bag…” James replied, feeling weirdly uninterested in Mulciber’s plans, his thoughts still in the girl in the Head’s Office.
“Alright, thanks.” James could see Sirius starting to walk towards the boys’ dorm. “Hey, Prongs?” A smirk spread on his face, making James feel rather suspicious.
“Yeah?”
“You were actually with Evans, weren’t you?”
James rolled his eyes. “What if I was? Of course I have to spend time with her because we are the Head Students. I’m working with her.”
“I bet you guys were working real hard, alright,” Sirius snorted.
“I’m pretending I didn’t hear that,” James remarked. “Besides, I wasn’t lying about the kitchens and the hospital wing. Here’s the proof.” He showed the basket he had gotten from the elves to Sirius’ mirror image.
“Oooh, now I get it. You were getting some food for a romantic date… and probably some contraceptive potion from Poppy…” Sirius’ grin only widened.
James’ face felt so hot he imagined he would have been able to cook eggs on it. “Get your mind out of your gutter, Padfoot. If you really must know, she wasn’t feeling too well while we were finishing some of our paperwork so I volunteered to help the girl out and get her some potion for the pain. That’s all.” He was happy he didn’t have to lie about that part.
“Alright, lover boy,” Sirius lifted his free hand in the air as a peace sign. “Well, you go continue your meeting with Evans, I have some Slytherin stalking to do.”
“Right. See ya.”
James put the mirror away and ran his hand through his hair. He could only hope that he wasn’t as obvious with his feelings as Sirius made it sound. Lily and he had only been friends for a couple of months and he most definitely didn’t want to ruin it by revealing that by the way, those feelings he had had during their 5th year had not gone anywhere; as a matter of fact they had only gotten stronger and more genuine as he had learned to know her better. James from the past few months had learned that there was much more to the mystery that was Lily Evans than he had ever realized, but that only made him more intrigued.
He couldn’t remain in his thoughts for long, though, because the girl in question was still waiting for the potion. Using some of the little known passages he and his friends had discovered during their nightly expeditions he made it back to the Head’s Office much faster than he would want to admit aloud.
When James entered the office, he found Lily up and trying to write a report for Dumbledore. She got some color on her cheeks when she realized he had caught her disobeying his orders to rest.
James folded his arms after he placed the basket on the desk. Before Lily had time to defend herself, he said: “Looks like someone is as bad at following orders as I am.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” She attempted to give him an innocent smile. James wanted to stay annoyed with her a little longer, but he couldn’t.
“Lily, sometimes it’s OK to let other people help you. There’s two of us for a reason. So that one can step in if needed. You’d probably do the same for me, right? ‘Cause we’re a team.”
“Right. Yeah, I probably would,” she admitted.
“Well, now that that’s been clarified, I brought you some things.”
He emptied the desk from the parchment, throwing them into a drawer before handing Lily the potion. She didn’t chuck it down instantly, though.
“You’ve been so nice to me today. I have to be honest… I imagined you would be one of those guys who get squeamish at the simple mention of periods.”
James frowned. “Why would I be like that? There are girls in our Quidditch team; they always let me know when they’re not feeling like flying. Besides, we Quidditch players are pretty familiar with pain and blood for a variety of reasons, so…” he shrugged.
“Right,” Lily replied and drank her potion with a grimace. It seemed to have an effect pretty fast; the relief on her face was visible within moments.
“That’s better,” she sighed. “So, do you have food for us?”
“I do,” James grinned in response and started spreading the contents of the best onto the desk. Lily’s mouth opened when she figured he had brought her a full on picnic. Fruits, sandwiches, treacle tart, chocolate, ham pie…
“James…” Lily looked at him with wide eyes. “This is too much…”
“Nah. I don’t think so. You’re always prioritizing other people’s needs. I think it’s time you get something nice done in return. Besides… I’m not planning to let you eat all of this on your own,” he winked, grabbing a sandwich from a plate and stuffing it into his mouth with great gusto.
Lily threw him an odd look he didn’t quite know how to interpret. Then she took a chocolate bar from the desk and made a contented little sigh as she took a bite from it.
“We gotta make sure there will be a Hogsmeade weekend soon… My Honeydukes chocolate stock is stupidly empty.”
“Oh Evans,” James clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “If you ever need chocolate, just say the word and it’s yours.”
“What? But… we can’t just march to Hogsmeade whenever…?”
“Trust me, we Marauders have our ways.”
“Right. Of course you do,” she snorted. “More seriously speaking, though - and don’t make any Sirius jokes now…” (James put a hand on his chest in mock offense.) “Thanks, James. I’m lucky to have a co-Head like you.”
James smiled softly at her. “I could say the same to you.”
Just like that, the atmosphere in the room changed. For a moment James and Lily just kept staring at each other, not quite sure how to progress from there. James’ eyes traitorously flickered towards Lily’s lips, and when she instinctively moved a little closer, her hand reaching his, he found himself mimicking her movements. But just when their fingers intertwined, his eyes asking her a silent question, a Prefect from Hufflepuff popped in to ask something about their upcoming meeting. The moment between James and Lily was broken, but he still squeezed her hand once more.
“Are you feeling better now?”
Lily smiled at him, her face adorably flushed. “Yes. Much better.”
A/N: Please let me know what you think!! (Ps. yes, I guess I'm a bit mean, not letting them kiss, ahah)
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Their Thoughts and Feelings During Your Last Sexual Encounter With Them 18+ — [♡];
Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.
This is an 18+ reading with sexual messages and mature themes. Please do not interact with this post if you are a minor or are uncomfortable with NSFW readings/messages!
Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.
Original pictures are not mine but I do edit them to match the theme of my blog/this post. Credit of the original pictures goes to the creators!
Interested in a reading from me? Book one here!
Pile 1 ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
Hello my lovely pile 1s! A lot of you may have picked this pile because I have a few different scenarios. For some of you, you may be stepping out of your comfort zone. Trying new things and meeting new people, learning more about yourself and doing more for yourself. You could be in your first semester of college or university and maybe some of you are hooking up in dorms 👀 you may have been through some sort of transformation, whether that be physical or mental/emotional and possibly both. It just feels like a new, fresh beginning. You could be hooking up with people or a person that you never thought you’d be able to get. The type of person you’d silently crush on and wish you were with before. I heard “I’m living in my fantasy” and “dream world” I also got an image of someone walking on clouds?
For others of you, you could be hooking up with an ex, possibly even an ex spouse that you’ve just finalized your divorce with. I heard “the ink ain’t even dry yet” 😭 if this is you, your guides may find the situation to be comical lol.
No matter the scenario, I believe you’re on a new period of your life. The end of one chapter and start of a new one. I heard “very vibrant” I also believe your relationship with this person was supposed to be no strings attached. You both agreed you just wanted to hook up and keep things strictly sexual but as time has gone on, there’s definitely feelings there and for most of you, those feelings are mutual on both sides. Again, there’s different scenarios here. For some of you (specifically those of you hooking up with an ex or previous partner) you know that a relationship with this person isn’t realistic and there’s a reason you grew apart and moved on. If this is the case, you’ll know. You’ve most likely already had this thought and are aware that this isn’t something you want long term and have probably already thought of cutting ties or just ending this sexual relationship with this person.
For those of you hooking up with someone new, the feelings are mutual and this could definitely blossom into something more. Their feelings for you are strong and quite overwhelming. If they haven’t told you about these feelings already, it’s weighing on them heavy and they want you to know. I’m hearing King of My Heart by Taylor Swift 🥺 I won’t say anymore about this aspect of the connection as this is not what the reading is about and I also don’t believe I’m supposed to say more than this and I would advise you to avoid getting too many readings or obsessing over the topic through tarot readings.
Now for the whole point of this reading, what they thought/felt the last time you had sex: the last time you had sex may have felt different from previous times you’ve been together. It may have been incredibly passionate and rough. There may not have necessarily anything that your person outwardly did that was incredibly different but just the energy. You felt like something had shifted and you weren’t wrong. This person may have been feeling very possessive/jealous over you. They realized that they wanted you more than they previously thought they did and they only want you, no one else. They may have held your throat or choked you while they did it from the back and there was probably a lot of whispering things in your ear. I also heard “attention to detail” and “vastly different” they could have also kissed your neck/back a lot and had moved or been gentle with your hair. I heard “pretty princess” a lot of spanking, too 👀 they thought a lot about you and how much they want you to themselves. How they wanted to give you the best sex you’ve ever had and make you feel more loved and wanted that anyone ever had previously. I heard “I just want to make you feel good” they may have even cried after you left. There’s a shift between the two of you and you both know it. There’s a craving for more, especially from them. They may be reaching out to you soon to hook up again. For some of you, they may even reach out to you tonight.
Pile 2 ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
Hello, Pile 2! For your reading, some of you might be having sex/hooking up with a childhood best friend or a best friends older sibling or something or just sibling in general. There’s something secretive and fun about this connection. Something only the two of you share that others don’t know about. Either your person is usually submissive and was dominant last time you were together or your person is usually dominant but submissive last time you two were together. They may be a switch and the two of you could be getting more comfortable with power play or switching roles. Maybe even some role playing. You may have some arrangement to try new things with each other. Like a way to experiment with each other sexually in a safe place where the two of you feel comfortable.
Your person was in awe of you the last time you two were together. They saw a different side to you sexually (this goes back to the dom/sub role reversal I mentioned in the beginning) they also felt very appreciative of you and your body. They may have taken time to think about how safe and comfortable they feel with you and how they’re not afraid to try new things with you or talk to you about their deepest fantasies. I also keep getting a message about threesomes. If this isn’t something you’re interested in them PLEASE don’t take this message. For some of you, a threesome may be something you really want to try and you may have talked to this person about it or maybe even had one during your last encounter. Again, if this particular message isn’t for you, that’s okay. Take what resonates and don’t let the rest take from you. Please remember, this is a general reading.
You may have teased this person a lot. I also heard “pleasured” you could have given them oral. This also feels sneaky like you hid away from everyone else but this could also just the the overall sneaky vibe of the connection. I feel like you were more comfortable in your own skin the last time you two were together. You may have been more comfortable in your body and showing it off more. Possibly even masturbating in front of this person or sending them videos of you masturbating. They really liked your moans, you may have been louder this time than you have been previously. They really appreciated how open and comfortable you were with them. I heard “treat my body like it’s yours” if you were wearing lipstick, they really liked it and if you have boobs, they really liked them as well and may have payed more attention to them as usually. They may have given you oral from the back or vice versa, possibly some 69 type business. You also could have done it outdoors or in the woods. You both were probably very happy or felt very euphoric and cuddled a lot afterwards. There’s just this feeling of relief and relaxation. They had so much love, admiration and appreciation for you the last time you two were together. They felt like you two broke down some barrier together and took the next step forward. Something about the last time you two were together made them feel so much more comfortable around you. They have such a fond and fuzzy feeling about you and your connection. I’m also getting something about a bunny or a rabbit.
Pile 3 ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
Hello, Pile 3! Those of you who picked this pile may be in a serious or long term relationship. The last few weeks or days or months with your partner may have been stressful. A lot of things regarding finances and living situations may have been up in the air or left unknown and you felt very unstable. This could have caused frustration that maybe you and your partner took out on each other. However, it seems you’ve recently gotten good news or the tides have shifted for you and things are getting better. Maybe you just made the decision to sign a lease or you’ve moved into a new place. You finally feel stable and I heard “free” because of this, you and your partner are in a much better place in your relationship. You may have even had a discussion about how you both have acted recently and apologized to each other for your cruel and unwarranted behavior. The last time you had sex seems to be passionate and loving. Like the bond between you two was being mended and you were healing the parts of each other that you’d recently hurt. Making up for the damage you’ve done to not only each other but also the relationship. You felt safe and comfortable and like for the first time in a long time, everything was okay and the two of you are going to be okay. It just felt free. I think I’m hearing passion fruit by drake? That may be a message or confirmation for some of you. The last time you had sex may have been in your new home or apartment if that situation resonates with you.
The last time you had sex, your person felt so connected to you. Like the bond between you two was unbreakable. I heard “you’re my whole world” they may have been scared they were going to lose you at some point during this rough period for you two and they may have even been somewhat emotional the last time you had sex, even if they didn’t show it. The sex you had was probably very deep and passionate filled with quit whispers and a lot of very soft and sensual touches. I heard “I’m here for you” you may carry guilt or feel like the two of you were wrong for coming so close to an end in your relationship but you shouldn’t hold that against yourself or your partner. You went through a difficult time together and that’s normal. You’re together now and that’s what matters. You continue to wake up everyday and choose each other because you genuinely love and care for one another. Let that be your focus for the future and let go of the hurt caused in the past. Your person felt so relieved the last time you had sex. It may have felt like a wave of emotions rolled over them. You both may have even cried. Your person just wanted to care for you and make you feel good and they really liked hearing your moans, they may have moaned a lot as well. You looked the most beautiful you’ve ever looked to them the last time you were together. For some of you, maybe you had just found out you were pregnant. This previous struggle may have been caused by infertility or a difficult time getting pregnant and this good thing happening could be a pregnancy. For the first time in a long time, your partner just felt like everything was right and balanced and they just wanted to be in that moment with you. It was deep and passionate and I think it meant a lot to both of you and the two of you are still thinking a lot about it. You bond and relationship may feel like the strongest it’s ever been.
I hope this reading has brought you some sort of peace, clarification, or happiness! Feedback is always appreciated :) have a good day or night. Sending you love and light!
I apologize for any errors/typos! :)
#free tarot readings#free readings#tarot cards#tarot reader#pac reading#tarot related#tarot requests#tarotblr#collective reading#spirituality#18+ tarot#18+ tarot reading#tarot pick a pile#pick a card readings#pick a picture#pac#pac readings
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See You Later pt. 9
Mammon (Obey Me! Shall We Date?) x GN!reader
See You Later Masterlist
A/N - Okay so this isn't going to end sad I swear. It won't end with a pretty gold ribbon but I won't end sad. Anyways, I know I literally dropped off the face of the planet. Uh,,, I can't go into detail about what happened but basically I got my entire life yanked out from under me wHOO! But I also started college and uh,,, 15 hours with 9 of them being writing intensive? Not a good choice. But I'm an English major now!! And next semester will be easier.
CW! Trauma, and MC collapses. Also, crying, bc MC was laying on the FLOOR for WAY too long.
See You Later Masterlist
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“It’s not bad, I promise. It’s just… problematic.” Barbatos sighed, pulling back to sit on the balls of his feet. “And I suppose I’m not being entirely truthful. That has happened before, just…” He hesitates, and glances at Diavolo.
“It’s nothing. Just know, for now, do not use your pacts. They will not work correctly, and you may end up hurting the brothers if you try.” Barbatos stands up and sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “I will have to work on a solution. Lucifer,” he looks over, and suddenly Barbatos seems much older than anyone else in this room. “I will be out of commission for the time. Keep things under control.”
Lucifer nods, and Diavolo glances between them. “Do I… get any context for this?”
“Even if I told you, you wouldn’t be able to comprehend it now. Go to sleep. Your distressingly overdue paperwork can wait.”
Diavolo cringed, nodding and choosing to take this small mercy over questioning the butler. Barbatos, satisfied with this, turns to leave. Just as he makes it to the door, he turns. “Listen. The magic that was required to change you… it is incredibly powerful. You will find its equal in no books or legends. Do not attempt to alter it.”
The door slams as he leaves, and Diavolo lets out a shaky breath.
“That was… concerning, to say the least,” Diavolo laughs, and Mammon decides that he has definitely been crying. Part of him wants to comfort the prince, but he also doesn’t know if he can get up yet.
“What is he going to do? Being out of commission… and he didn’t ask, or even wonder if there could have been another way.” Lucifer murmurs, still looking at the doors. “There has to be some other way. He shifts, rolling his shoulders as he stands and pulls Diavolo to his feet. “In any case, I can’t carry them together. I’ll get Mammon; he’ll be the strongest. And heaviest.” Diavolo nods, uncertain. “Just to a bedroom, for now. We all need sleep.”
The shuffle down the hallway was slow and painful and tense. So many questions, and soreness, and exhaustion. Apparently Mammon had been out for only a day, and Diavolo had been inconsolable. Lucifer had barely slept since the beginning of this ordeal, he just didn’t show it as much. Barbatos had been by his side the whole time, and Satan had been running around doing his best to research the magic required to pull the human out of their trance.
Mammon, halfway to the bedroom they would stay in, was able to stand on his own. Lucifer was going to help Diavolo, but by the time he even thought about it, Mammon had glued himself to the human’s free side. They were both breathing heavily, and the human’s hand had begun to spasm, even in the clasp of Mammon’s.
“I feel like Barbatos knows something and won’t tell me.” Diavolo sounded crushed, like all the air had been taken from his lungs. The group kept walking.
“We are going to talk later about your impulsiveness, Mammon,” Lucifer’s voice was low and quiet, no trace of the threat the words conveyed. “You could have never come back.” The group kept walking.
“I feel like there’s somethin’ wrong with my head.” Mammon blinked rapidly, wavering dangerously. Lucifer grabbed his arm and righted him. The group kept walking.
“I hurt.” A squeak, barely audible, sounded before the human completely collapsed. Diavolo caught them, and he carried them bridal style the rest of the way to the room.
It was comfortable and cool, with a thick comforter on each of two wide beds. Curtains billowed in the breeze the doors created, shifting across the carpeted floors. Diavolo gently placed the human in the nearest bed, pulling the covers up to their chin. They smiled at him and made a small noise in the back of their throat, but the effort seemed too much and they gave up. Diavolo smiled and turned towards Mammon.
“You have the choice to stay in the second bed, but,” Diavolo blinked slowly, rubbing his eyes. “I think they would appreciate it more if you stayed with them. Go easy on yourselves, and sleep as long as you need.” His smile fell, and his gaze shifted past Mammon and Lucifer, focused on some distant point. “I think Barbatos may take a while.”
Mammon nodded, muttering a ragged “Thanks,” before pulling himself in with his human. Their hand twitched against his chest, and they nestled into him, pulling into his warmth. They were cold, unnaturally so, and shaking even more.
The sniffling started soon after the door creaked shut, their tears dripping onto his neck and hands gripping his shirt. Mammon pulled them closer, interlocking their legs and wrapping his arms around their waist. It clicked for him that this wasn’t over; they were in pain, of course they would be, they were in that horrible place for much longer than he was. There was so much he wanted to ask them; how many times they had lived through those memories, how much they had thought of him, what they were feeling right now.
He buried his face in their neck, breathing them in and wishing that this could have been under better circumstances, that one day they could be together without pain, or sadness, or some threat hanging over their heads.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed that on ya so suddenly,” he started, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I should’ve given ya time. I should’ve thought about all this before. I just-”
“Mams.”
“Right.”
He sighed, pulling them in. The drift off to sleep was slow and often interrupted; One of them would shift, or jerk awake, or have a nightmare, and the other would be there to comfort them. Time held no meaning - the door stayed closed, the view from the window never changed, and the only noise in the room was fabric shifting and steady breathing. For the first time since the exchange program began, the two were allowed to find solace in each other without fear or hesitation.
For the first time since they had met, they allowed themselves to love each other.
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See You Later Masterlist
#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me mammon x mc#mammon x reader#mammon obey me#mammon supremacy#mammon x mc#mammon fluff#mammon angst#mammon x mc angst#mammon x reader angst#mammon x gn!reader#mammon x gn!mc#obey me! shall we date?#obey me#obey me fanfic#obey me fluff#obey me lucifer#obey me! one master to rule them all#obey me! mammon#obey me!#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me satan#daydreams original
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Midnight Rain
Chapter 5: Drunken Confessions
Synopsis: You've always been a planner. You had your whole life planned out, but Heeseung breaking up with you for a chance to become an idol wasn't apart of your plan. So now you're stuck with supporting him from afar. Until a college boy sweeps you off your feet. Everything was supposed to be perfect. Then why were you still yearning for your first love?
Pairing: Idol! Heeseung x Fem! Reader; Nonidol! Yeonjun x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Warnings: Heartbreak; Toxic Relationships; Domestic Violence; Physical Violence; Bruises mentioned; Gaslighting; Panic Attacks and Nightmares;
A/N: The story is all fiction, please don't take any depictions of the boys to heart. New chapters will be uploaded once a week. Any feedback is welcomed! Please enjoy~
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Your relationship with Yeonjun wasn't always so black and white. In the first few years, everything felt like a dream, he made you feel like being with him meant nothing was impossible. Like he would bend the will of god just to get you what you wanted. On top of that he was charming and adventurous, which was the push you needed to get out of your comfort zone. He made you want to go to frat parties and let loose on a Friday night, instead of curling up on the couch with some snacks and watching Enhypen content or the latest kdrama. He was like a storm designed to sweep you off your feet and make you live dangerously for once. However, once university ended and the pressures of the real world started, that was when the rose tinted glasses finally got removed. Yeonjun was 2 years older than you so he was already a junior when you started dating, but he ended up failing some classes and stayed at the university for another year and a half longer than he was supposed to. Which meant, he only graduated a semester before you did.
After your graduation, you two decided to move in together. Mainly because you noticed how Yeonjun was having trouble finding a job plus he was estranged from his family, so he didn’t have anyone else to support him. You still had money saved up from your part time job at the library and your internship, so you thought it would be enough to get both of you by until Yeonjun got a steady job. In the beginning you didn’t mind how things were, you loved him after all, but things never got better. The situation only ever got worse.
He was constantly out job hunting, while you went to work at your current company. You were lucky enough to snag an internship at Kakao Entertainment in your last year of university and they liked you enough to offer you a full time position once you graduated, which you gladly accepted. But that meant, you had a job where you were making steady income, while Yeonjun was doing the opposite and he never liked feeling inferior, especially to you.
It took him almost a year after graduation to finally get a job in marketing, but the company culture was ruthless and he ended up quitting the job just 6 months in. Which led to your first ever real fight.
“Why did you quit before you got another job?! What am I supposed to do about rent for next month?” You sighed frustratingly running a hand through your hair.
“What was I supposed to do? Stand there and listen to them belittle me for the 100th time that day? You didn’t hear what they were saying about me. I fucking hate it when they make it look like I’m stupid. I’m not fucking stupid.” He defended but the argument was on deaf ears.
“You couldn’t handle having your ego hit so now we might not be able to afford rent. This is ridiculous, Yeonjun.” You sighed.
“My ego? Do you even care about the fact that they were talking shit about me to my face?” He furrowed his brows, slowly getting angrier and angrier as the conversation continued.
“Of course, I do. I just don’t think you went about it the right way.”
“Well what would you have done, little miss perfect? Since I went about it the wrong way, what would be right in your book?” He taunted, making you angrier as well.
“I would’ve at least had another job lined up before quitting and putting both of us in this position.” You closed your eyes and massaged your temples to ease the ache that was forming.
“I hate that about you. I hate that you always think you’re better than me.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t think I’m better than you-”
“Yes, you fucking do!” He cut you off. “I get it. I fucked up and I shouldn’t have let my emotions get the better of me but that doesn’t give you the right to berate me too.” He angrily slammed his hands down on the kitchen island, making you jump in the process. “I don’t fucking need this right now.” He growled before exiting the apartment.
You didn’t go after him, thinking you both needed the space to sort out your emotions before talking it out again. The next day, Yeonjun came back with flowers and an apology. You accepted and believed him when he told you he would try harder to find a decent job. But it was hard for him to get his foot through the door of any established company, especially since he didn’t have much experience. He ended up working odd jobs to help with the living expenses as he continued to job hunt. In the beginning, you thought that he had really changed but as he kept getting rejected from every company he applied to, he started going back to his old ways. Yeonjun wasn’t ever physically abusive towards you, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t emotionally abusive.
Every time he came home drunk, you would get angry at him which would piss him off as well. The arguments always led to one of you sleeping on the couch, or sometimes you would leave and stay with Chaewon or he would go to his friend’s house for the night. The one thing that never changed was the following day a bouquet of flowers would appear along with an apology. This cycle continued until he landed his current job. Since they were just beginning to get their feet off the ground, he was nose deep in work and the arguments eventually stopped. But they weren’t the only things to end. His attention and affection towards you also stopped all together.
“Y/n, I miss you.” Yeonjun said, as he made his way towards you. You were backed up to a wall with no room for escaping. “Don’t do this to me. We love each other. We shouldn’t fight anymore.”
“Yeonjun, we both know that that love ended a long time ago.” You said, as he caged your body in between his arms.
“No, I won’t let you go. We need each other.” His hands wrapped around the base of your shoulders. “Everything will be okay as long as we’re together.” You felt his hands move from your shoulder up to your neck as your breath was ripped from your lungs.
“Let me go! Yeonjun, you’re hurting me!” You struggled against his hold as you felt his fingers dig into the sides of your neck, blocking any air from reaching your burning lungs.
“If you want to end things then fine. We can end it together.” His eyes looked dead as you stared into them, continuing to struggle.
“Let me go! Let go of me!” Your body jerked awake as you felt strong arms wrap around you.
“Shhh.. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Heeseung whispered into your ear as he held you. “Heeseung?” You pulled away from him to look at his tired face.
“You had a nightmare. I heard you screaming so I came to check on you.” His thumb caressed your cheeks as he wiped the tears from your face.
His brows knitted together with worry. You’ve only been at his dorm for two days and every time you try to sleep, you wake up screaming. He insisted you stay here for a couple more days when you tried to leave after you woke up screaming on the first night. He doesn’t want you to be alone. He doesn’t want you to have a nightmare and wake up with no one there to tell you it’s okay, that you’re okay now. So he’ll keep you here as long as he can. Even if that’s selfish of him.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to get your bearings.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep yet.”
“What were you doing? It’s so late. Don’t you have work tomorrow?” You asked, glancing at the digital clock on his bedside table. 3:35AM.
“I’ll be fine. I was just having a beer. I-uh, couldn’t sleep. Had too many thoughts in my head.” His hands held yours as he continued to sooth you.
“Want some company? I could use the distraction.”
“Sure.” You exchanged small smiles as he led you back into the living room where you saw a pillow and blanket thrown roughly on the couch. There were multiple cans of beer and various snacks scattered across the coffee table, which you assume was where Heeseung was doing his thinking. He left you to sit as he went to the kitchen to get more beer.
“I hope this one is okay.” He handed you the cold can, after opening it for you.
“I’m sure it’s fine.” You chuckled slightly at how awkward he was being.
“So do you want to talk about your nightmares?” He glanced at you, taking a sip of his beer to hide his expression. You reluctantly tell him about your nightmares and how they always end with Yeonjun trying to strangle you. “He’s really a piece of shit, isn’t he? He’s even hurting you in your sleep.” He frowned.
“It wasn’t always like this. He used to make me feel like if I wanted the world, he would do everything in his power to get it for me. But people change and circumstances do too” You looked down at the can on your lap as a sad smile graced your lips.
“It’s his loss anyways. He doesn’t deserve your pity. Not after what he’s done.” Heeseung’s eyes shined with rage as he looked at your exposed bruises.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m the reason why people keep leaving me. Maybe this is just my karma.” You pull your hair from behind your ear to hide the bruises on your neck that you know are now fully purple.
“Hey, don’t think like that. You’re never to blame for anything he’s done and I hope for his sake that he leaves you alone because if he puts his hands on you again. I can’t promise that I won’t do anything about it.” His grip tightened on the can making the metal collapse in on itself.
“Thank you. For being here for me, even though I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me.” You were too embarrassed to look at him so you kept your eyes on the beer can in front of you.
“I wish I would’ve given you the chance to be. I was young and stupid. I shouldn’t have broken up with you like that. I shouldn’t have let you leave the park crying. I should’ve-”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You placed a hand over his when you saw how his body started to shake. “It’s all in the past now and there are no hard feelings.”
“But that’s the problem.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m still in love with you.” You stared at him for a second before looking away.
“You’re drunk.” You sighed, pulling your hand back.
“Fuck. Maybe I am, but it’s the truth. Ever since you left the park that day, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Yes, I had a lot going on with the survival show and I’ve been really busy with schedules after becoming an idol but there hasn’t been a moment when I’ve not thought about you. It’s been over 5 years, Y/n. I’ve had to live with the regret of letting you go for 5 years so when you ran away from me again at that party. I thought my chances of making it up to you were over. But here you are and I have to pinch myself just to make sure I’m not dreaming.” He confessed, staring intensely into the side of your face because you refused to look at him.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can do this right now.” You wiped your eyes as tears started to fall.
“Y/n, I’m not asking you to do anything and I don’t expect anything from you either. I just want you to know how I feel and that I promise you, I’ll be here for you from now on. Whether that’s as friends or more. It’s up to you to decide. I can be whatever you want me to be but please let me back into your life. Don’t shut me out anymore.” He pleaded, reaching out to grab your hand in his.
Your tears continued to fall as you finally looked at him. He was looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you wanted to melt. You wanted to fall back into him but the baggage you carried was more than you wanted to admit. You didn’t want to burden him anymore than you already have. Because at the end of the day, it’s not just his career that’s on the line. It’s also the careers of the rest of Enhypen too. But just for tonight, you’ll give into your desires and you’ll leave tomorrow.
So you didn’t resist when he reached up to wipe away your tears or when he continued to stare into your eyes as he caressed your cheeks. You let your body do what it wanted to as you felt the distance close between you two. His warm breath fanned across your face as your brain sent an sos to the rest of your body. But your heart intercepted the signals as you pressed your lips against his in a slow but needy kiss. The familiarity of his lips gave you the courage to reach up and bury your hand in his hair, deepening the kiss. You felt like you were in high school again. Like no time has passed and your life didn’t take the dark turn that it did after you met Yeonjun. Would this be what it would’ve been like had you fought harder for your relationship? If you didn’t let him go? A cough made you break away from each other as you buried your face into the side of the couch in embarrassment.
“Hyung, did you not get any rest?” Jungwon’s tired voice asked as he pretended to not see what was going on.
“Uh, not really… But you’re up early.” Heeseung responded, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
“Yeah… I have an early vocal class before our dance practice at noon. You should get some rest before then.” The older boy nodded at him and Jungwon glanced at your figure briefly before heading to the bathroom. Once he was out of earshot, Heeseung turned to you and started giggling.
“Stop laughing!” You whisper yelled, punching him in the arm.
“It’s kinda funny don’t you think?” He continued to giggle as he pretended to be hurt by your punches.
“No! It’s not! I’m mortified right now. What if he tells the others? How am I supposed to look them in the eye after this?” You buried your face in your hands.
“It’s okay, Jungwon won’t say anything to the others. He’s not like that.” He reassured you before pulling your hands away from your face. “We should get you back to bed. Are you going to work today?”
“No, I called my boss earlier and told him I caught a cold so I’m gonna be out for a few days.” You didn’t want to admit it but you were still scared of Yeonjun coming to find you at work, but you didn’t want to tell Heeseung that.
“Great. Now you can sleep in too!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards his bedroom.
“Goodnight, Y/n” He said as he tucked you into bed. Grabbing your hand again, he placed a soft kiss on each of your knuckles before pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Stay with me.” You said, feeling like you needed his embrace one more time before you leave. “Please.” You could tell Heeseung was contemplating what to do for a second but he eventually peeled the covers back and slid into the space beside you. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he engulfed you in his arms. You listened to his heartbeat, the sound soothes you more than you’re willing to admit. After a few minutes, you could feel his breathing even out and his soft snores were heard. You looked up to see him fast asleep but looking as gorgeous as ever and that’s when it hit you.
“I’m still in love with you too.”
Taglist: @nobodyshallenter @sunsunl0ver @huening-ly @qeen123 @carmendanny2
#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen x y/n#heeseung x yn#enhypen heeseung#enhypen angst#heeseung angst#enha fanfic#enha x reader#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung fanfic#heeseung fanfic#kpop fanfiction#lee heesung x reader#heecase#midnight rain#txt yeonjun#yeonjun x reader
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Half Life Notes Pt. 2
So here is a bunch of notes for my Human AU, Half Life
Please note there are spoilers ahead that may be used for writing at some point. So proceed with caution!!
If you have any notes, suggestions or questions - don't be afraid to ask!
Brandy is actually one of Delta’s relatives best friends - Taylor. Spruce and Taylor kind of become friends through John. They get pretty close but not nearly enough to be romantically inclined with one another. She does start helping him get involved with stuff, whether it be with the family, school, etc. Spruce does learn some swimming from Brandy eventually but is able to float and stuff before then. Anyway, Brandy spent the semester as an exchange student abroad and came back in time for summer. Taylor talks about her and eventually introduces them, thinking they will get along. She’s right. Like very right. She becomes invested in getting them involved romantically; it’s kind of hilarious.
Floyd is actually the one who scratches Spruce’s CD. He wanted to listen to it as he got more into music and wants to know why his brother loves it so much. Spruce freaks out because it’s the only one and he can’t find the songs anywhere else.
Eugene 100% has an old stage at his place, possibly under a roof or in the barn and they do karaoke and performances there. He and Constance host tons of family friendly parties and other events for both their family and the community.
Floyd is actually a music prodigy. He quickly picks up instruments and music things far quicker than anyone expects. Does school solo and ensemble and rocks it. Features in his choirs and probably joins the swing choir.
Clay joins baseball and loves the rivalry with another school. He also likes the fact he can hit a ball as hard as he can. It helps with his anger. He isn’t bad either. He’s also big into sad books, which worries John. He’s a bit of a math whiz.
JD sometimes thinks he got all the dumbass genes.
Spruce eventually does want John to have some happiness and encourages him at some point to start dating. Clay catches on and confronts him. He’s not happy about it (he’s scared to lose the Dawn family, their support and some of his friends) but Spruce tells him John literally gave up his life for them so deserves something. They both, however, kinda want John and Delta to be together.
Clay and Spruce join 4-H. Clay learns to ride horses and shows them. He even joins one of the drill teams (this is where he meets Viva). He is keen on learning a lot of disciplines and picks up with English and Western riding. He’s one of the few boys involved in some of that (outside of rodeo stuff) and so he’s pretty popular with the other girls.
Spruce does cooking and baking, mostly in 4-H. He bonds with Sofia and Constance with baking, jams and other things. He bonds with Declan and Eugene and a few others with grilling, meats and other cooking dishes. John teaches him to fish.
Viva is in Clay’s 4-H club and also rides horses. They don’t really interact at school in the beginning but become buddies at drill team and it blossoms from there. They kind of become rivals a little. Clay picked up riding fast - as he wants to prove to everyone he can - and Viva has been riding her entire life. They become partners at drill and once it starts, it does not stop.
Poppy is a newborn at the beginning of the story, making her about a little less than a year younger than Branch. Peppy is the leader of the area (perhaps the next town since the one John lives in is so small? I’m not sure yet how that works honestly)
Sofia watches over several of her family’s kids frequently and volunteers at the nursery at church often when she is not consulting at a law firm/taking the odd case. Has considered opening a daycare. She’s a serious empty nester.
County Fair in summer.
This may be how Spruce finds out about John’s old garage band. Spruce and his buddies sneak in when it is late and minors aren’t supposed to be there. John is reunited with some of his old high school buddies after one dies and they invite him to do a performance. One of said old high school buddies became a musician and still sells their single CD and advertises them. Brandy is the one who notices and she races to find Spruce. She is one of the few that have been able to listen to the CD he loves.
John gets more involved with school activities as time goes on and he adjusts. He goes on walks with Rhonda and Branch and pretty much becomes known as the hot dad where he walks /shrugs//
One time Clay lets it slip about something his father did one time to Viva during drill and she told the most powerful and strong person she knew (her dad), scared for her friend. It was a bit early in their friendship. He didn’t go to anyone, but he confronted John at his house and pretty much openly threatened him, even though John had literally no idea what he was talking about. Clay is furious with Viva because he finds out/hears and it is so awkward.
Clay confronts Viva and almost blows up on her. When he explains, she apologizes but Clay is so upset because this could interfere with John’s custody and doesn’t know if he can forgive her.
John does tell him that it’s fine and not to worry and that he should not let this come between him and Viva. She didn’t know and wanted to help him.
Peppy maaayyyyyy go talk to JD again to apologize. As he should.
Yes, Branch’s first words are calling John dad. He learns to talk a fair bit before actually speaking anything. So it might even be a full sentence.
John does teach Floyd guitar and some piano. He takes on it extraordinarily quickly.
Spruce gets worried his new buddies will think he is weird for liking to bake. Haha, NO because they LOVE to eat and not only to make requests but LOVE being taste testers. (Literally I’ve never known a man who was upset that another man could bake/cook cause dudes love to eat. My HS cooking class was ALWAYS full.)
Floyd likes games; video games, board games, card games etc. He loves Mario especially and finds his voice hilarious.
JD can draw fairly well and might be something that Branch picks up eventually.
Rhonda loves all the boys and is protective of all of them but she hangs around Branch a lot and is protective of him, especially when he starts walking. It’s probably because he is the youngest and she knows he can defend himself the least. She also has a soft spot for Spruce (we think it’s more emotional) and he is more active in her life. John is her go to always.
JD is an introvert forced to be an extrovert.
Spruce and Clay - extrovert
Floyd - introvert/ambivert
Branch - introvert
They all bond with Delta somehow. Idk entirely how yet.
She teaches Clay how to ride and might even lead his drill team.
Floyd struggles to not see JD as a dad.
JD, even when convinced to attempt dating, thinks it won’t work with him raising his brothers.
JD and his old garage band get back together when one of them dies and he goes to the funeral. Spruce goes with him. When JD goes up to the mother, she talks about how much he loved JD and how proud she is of what he has done. She kisses his forehead and is a general sweetheart.
They end up getting together and talking. One of the guys is a musician and has used the CD they made when they were kids to help his career. He gives JD some money to try and give him a share, saying it wasn’t enough. JD doesn’t want to take it but he insisted.
Upon finding out about John’s bonds with the Dawn family, he feels replaced, especially when he walks around John’s house for the first few days. There weren’t many photos, just a few of John and Delta and a few other people.
He doesn’t realize these photos are mostly celebratory wins for John when it came to his custody battle and such.
Clay has a temper and tends to hold a grudge until he feels justice has been served. He has noticed his parent’s neglect in the form of rarely being around, clothes that no longer fit and some restriction of food. Clay has learned to eat almost anything, despite hating a lot of goods.
Clay doesn’t see a lot of abuse that went around. He has been put down sometimes but rarely hit. He has been so goofy and clumsy, his parents seemed to get mad at him less but they think he’s an idiot. He realized this and has a growing concern of being perceived that way once he’s safe.
Floyd can be sensitive and hates conflict. He loves music and dreams of being a musician but has learned quickly his parents do not think he is capable or are supportive of that route. He has also learned things are okay when he is quiet, small and unnoticeable. He does not make a ruckus. So unless he is with his brothers, Floyd does not talk a lot and has never told anyone his inclination for music since he was very young. Clay knows, only by accident until it is revealed when John gets custody of them.
His mother has hit him twice, each time apologizing profusely that he has accepted.
He is a bit gullible and forgives easily because he doesn’t like being upset with loved ones, since he doesn’t have many.
Spruce was furious when he found out his parents were pregnant with Branch. He didn’t say anything until Branch was born and when he let his displeasure slip, he got hit and wasn’t allowed near the baby for six months. Spruce didn’t care much, as he wasn’t happy about the baby and he was angry at John who was not sneaking visits and phone calls anymore.
It was late one night and his parents weren’t around and the baby was crying. He went to the crib and Spruce picked him up and brought him to his room. The baby crawled around and eventually found a pair of JD’s goggles. He seemed to like them and Spruce started telling him about their older brother, as well as some of the theories why John hadn’t contacted them. “He doesn’t know about you. He might not ever know about you.”
Spruce became the caregiver for the baby after that. He knew it wouldn’t be long until Branch was in the same boat as the rest of them. They liked the new baby smell and the cute little children.
Spruce is called Bruce by his old friends who are embarrassed by his real name. This leads to him having negative thoughts and feelings about his name. But then he remembers his brother is named after a fish and he feels better.
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happy belated new year
tuesday, january 16th, 04:51am
listening to: anything - catfish and the bottlemen
hello tumblr! it’s been almost a month since i posted last (i’m sorry!)
christmas is a busy period.. and being back at uni since the new year hasn’t been easy. there’s a lot to update you on, i suppose. i don’t really know where to start, but i’ll try.
to begin with, i had a talk with george on the day before new year’s eve. i went into the conversation intending to cut him off and go completely no contact with him. seeing him was… weird. our lives are so different now, which i guess they have been for a while, but i never really started getting over him enough to notice. i told him everything about how i’ve been feeling, about how finding out about his new girlfriend fucked me up (purely because she was “the girl he told me not to worry about” in our relationship). he promised me nothing happened between them while we were together, which i believe because i made him pinky promise while i was crying. i told him i’ve seen his brother around town. he told me to come to one of his shows in southampton at some point. we came out of the conversation friends. i came out of it… with closure? well, i’ve been feeling less shitty about him and jannine anyway, so in some way it’s put my mind at ease. i sobbed off all my makeup in a wetherspoons though - not my proudest moment. i also smoked an entire pack of fags throughout our talk.
his reason for wanting to keep me in his life is because he “genuinely cares about me and my family”. i told him if he genuinely cared then he should’ve made an effort to keep me. he does have a close relationship with my stepdad though, which i understand not wanting to lose. i also told him that he doesn’t get to have his cake and eat it, he can’t not have me but have my family, which he said he understands but that it’s not fair for me to take that away from him. i told him he has jannine now, and her family, so he has to choose. he said my family helped him through a lot and he can’t just let that go. but i’m expected to let him go? ugh.
anyway, i agreed to stay friends with him so long as he puts in effort to talk to me and keeps jannine out of our conversations. which i think is fair. he said he won’t text me back when he’s with her, which fucked me off a little bit because he used to CONSTANTLY text her when he was with me… but whatever.
anyway - in terms of that i’m doing better. i am genuinely moving on now, hard as it is. i’ve been making a lot of art about it, which helps. i even wrote a song. music isn’t really for me, not really, not writing. but that’s okay. sometimes you just have to let it out.
what else is going on in my life. hm.
considering dropping out of uni. like seriously considering it. i think maybe uni isn’t for me. i do love my friends, and i love my independence, and i love not having to work a full time job because i’m in education, but i hate my course and i hate being away from my family. i’ve had my little taster of how uni can be and it’s left a bitter taste in my mouth that i just can’t seem to wash away. i don’t know how to go about it. being in brighton is wonderful at face value, but my mental health is at an all time low; i’ve genuinely considered suicide as an option for the first time in years. i am getting help for that and i’m upping my antidepressant dosage (yayyy…) but it got really bad just before christmas. coming home to my family saved my life i think - if i stayed in my dorm for even one more week i would’ve just offed myself.
the good news is that i’ve been doing my coursework. i’m past my extension time now, but i spoke to my course leader about it and she seems to understand. i am paying to be here after all, it’s my degree that i’m fucking up. this semester i’m hoping to get back on top of it. maybe.
another thing - i got a second tattoo on saturday! i honestly love it, but the design isn’t for everyone. here’s a little picture!
he’s super cute, but so far really itchy and being a bitch to heal.
i’m sure there’s other important things in my life that i’m missing out, but i can’t think of them.
i’m gonna try to get back to posting more regularly!!! keeping this blog really helped me last year so i’m hoping it will this year too.
happy 2024!
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Dear Charlie,
Today was a great day. Until it wasn’t.
In the morning I went to university to some sort of welcome thing for master students. It was unnecessary. After awkwardly trying to talk to new people, I called the quits and stuck to the ones I semi-knew. I got a little closer to V. who used to really intimidate me. We spent the day together and went for food together. The new uni, the third and last one in my master’s program is really nice, a little posh though. I like this city a lot. And I adore the teacher. We had a meeting with all of them. We are only 10 stuents, but 5 of them haven’t arrived yet, so it was 5 students meeting 4 teachers. A little awkward, but Sara the teacher initiated an ice breaker. It helped a little. It was quite nice to get to know them. I’ve had Sara before, in online classes. In the beginning I didn’t really like her, but then I grew fond of her. She is really fair and good at bringing messages accross. She has helped me out, academically and personally, when I just really needed it. She is very empathetic and I feel like she feels what her students do. Anyway, in Denmark, last semester, she held a lecture on diversity in children’s books, a project she is currently working on. Well, this semester, we have to do internships, and out of the list we could choose from I didn’t really like any, so I shot my shot and asked Sara if she needed an intern on that particular project she presented. She loved the idea. I’m now her intern. We start in 2 weeks. Today she told me she was really happy that I asked her because without me asking she wouldn’t have worked on her project this semester. She also said she liked that I asked for what I wanted and that I had the guts to do so. She said in Dutch there is a saying along the lines of don’t settle for less than what you want. And well, she seemed happy. She also told me she will be supervising my thesis, which made me very happy, as I’d already talked to her about it in Denmark. She told me she “requested me” aka, the one shot she had at making a decision of somebody she wants to mentor isntead of all the others who are allocated according to capacity. I’m her choice. She made that very clear. Even clearer, we talked about PhDs and she offered me to be my second supervisor. So that’s that. I was bursting with happiness. All that came after a long long email exchange settling the internship and talking about the thesis. She asked me why I wanted to research what I want to research. It’s about queer YA. And I told her that I’m queer and that’s why during a conversation but I hated that answer, so I explained myself cleaer in an email and got a little deeper and personal. And she answered me back in the kindest way possible, getting a little personal as well and telling me that I shouldn’t aplogise for such a long email, that she wanted to thank me for opening up and that, if anything, the email made her feel privileged to be my supervisor. Needles to say I was super touched. Anyway, then things got bad. I was supposed to have dinner with a friend from another city but she got on the wrong train and couldn’t make it anymore. So I went for dinner with v. which was okay. Then I came home and we’ll that’s when it got bad bad. I called A and she was quiet and weird so I asked what the matter was and she said nothing. Well then she texted saying she reread one of our arguments. I also did. We said horrible things. I feel so bad about what i did that I drafter goodbye letters and stood on my window sill looking into the abyss. I was close to jumping off. I didn’t. I didn’t wand my flatmate to find my body. I feel stuck. I’m scared of the future. A great day turned into a bad one because I remember what a horrible person I can be and how hard my relationship can be. I love A. But sometimes we do things we really shouldn’t. Like digging up old arguments, or like fighting in the first place. Anyway. Now I can’t sleep so I thought I’d write it out of my head. It didn’t help, but hey, at least now you know I’m still alive. Sometimes I’m better. Today I was. But then I really wasn’t. Well, that’s that.
Love always,
Lena.
24.08.202 (00:32)
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kyla breaks down (well- writes down) the season 2 trailer, released on thursday april 08, 2021, in preparation for the season 3 trailer, released hopefully on this upcoming thursday june 30, 2022.
just so you know- this is more of like- a full transcript with time stamps and stuff, maybe i’ll later do some sort of analysis on it in another post or a reblog even, but it’s also largely here for others to do with as they please too.
y’all can use this to draw whatever conclusions you’d like to about the season 3 trailer when it comes out, or just to talk about the season 2 trailer vs. what we saw from the season in general.
--
0:00-0:05 - accompanied by miss jenn v.o. “after the triumph of high school musical, it’s time to turn my attention to the spring musical.
east high sign in front of school, miss jenn posing in front of high school musical the musical poster from last semester, miss jenn flipping through costume rack (from when she decides on beauty and the beast after pulling out nini’s fork costume), miss jenn holding up the hsm2 dvd, miss jenn’s talking head from episode 1.
0:05-0:09- kourtney (partially v.o.) “why wouldn’t we do hsm2, our hsm was legendary”
visuals: the group dancing to fabulous in front of the piano at ashlyn’s nye party, (what i’m pretty sure is) the ashlyn, ej, gina reaction shot of big red walking into the nye party, “our hsm” focuses on rini sitting together on the couch, kourtney comes on screen to say “was legendary” to carlos.
0:09- 0:29
zack and miss jenn and carlos in the costume shop on new years eve, i’m not going to bother bc while there are a bunch of cuts, there’s nothing particularly misleading or different going on.
0:30
exterior of the bowen household, from when ricky and his dad are about to talk / the rini christmas montage in 2.01
0:31 - miss jenn (v.o.) “okay everyone!
reaction shot of the kids seeing miss jenn come into the nye party, redlyn kissing in background.
0:32-0:40 - miss jenn (partially v.o) “this semester, we are entering the alan menken awards for high school musical theatre. and we are doing beauty and the beast.”
the confused, reaction of the kids to miss jenn telling them they’re doing beauty and the beast, the excited reaction of the kids to them entering the alan menken awards, miss jenn on screen delivering the news about batb / the menkies, reaction shot of kourtney and carlos to what i’m pretty sure was the menkies news, big red and ashlyn looking at each other reacting happily to what i’m pretty sure was the menkies news. then we see miss jenn on screen, delivering the news about beauty and the beast.
0:40-0:42 -
what we’re supposed to think is them reacting with absolute shock to the batb news, but is actually from the moment at the end of 2.01 where nini says “ricky i’m moving to denver”
0:43- something in the air starts playing in the background, “i’ve been waiting for this moment”
“disney+ presents” title card
0:44-0:49 nini “we are going to make this long distance thing look easy”, ricky “i’m going to facetime you every morning”
rini’s embrace from the 2.02 flashback where they say goodbye in nini’s bedroom before she goes to yac, nini and ricky saying those lines to each other from 2.02, smiling at each other
0:49-0:55 nini’s talking head from 2.01, (partially v.o) “i got into the youth actor’s conservatory!” “it’s a huge deal to me,” “but honestly ricky’s a huge deal to me too”
we see nini delivering her talking head, also nini at her desk at yac from 2.02, fade to black, then back to the talking head, cut to nini and ricky saying goodbye at the train station in 2.04, the part from the beginning of granted where he looks at her sadly then she looks back at him sadly over her shoulder before she gets on the bus.
0:55-0:57 something in the air plays - “it’s my year i’m gonna own it”
visual of gina stretching on stage from 2.02, before carlos comes up to ask her about co-choroegraphing.
0:57-1:00 miss jenn, partially v.o. “who is ready to go from amateurs to statewide award winners?”
wide shot visual of miss jenn talking to big group on stage before auditions start in 2.02, closer up reaction shot of group, specifically seb, kourtney, and ashlyn, brief close up shot of miss jenn talking, brief close up shot of ej and gina together while miss jenn talks, the shot from when ricky’s frustrated with himself backstage before he goes and helps big red.
1:00-1:02- kourtney- “born ready”
said on screen to ashlyn, followed by the handshake, seemingly in response to miss jenn’s statement, but actually them getting ready to do their duo audition to ashlyn’s song, 1-2-3.
1:02-1:06 lily (partially v.o.) “hello wildcats” “maybe you should stick to the stuff you know”
reaction shot of the wildcats group in north high’s costume room in 2.07, shot of lily delivering the line next to antoine, reaction shot of ej next to gina both looking frustrated (i’m pretty sure this is right before gina says they’ll do the dance off bc gina wants to defend ashlyn, but it might also be in reaction to antoine’s line about their beast mask), shot of lily delivering the second line, kourtney’s reaction to her beast mask getting insulted (framed as the reaction to the ‘stick to the stuff you know line).
1:07-1:08 ricky “i’m a little scared right now”
he says this on screen, this line is from when they’re looking for the beast mask in north’s costume room, before lily and antoine enter.
1:08-1:10 gina “guys, we’re east high”
the on screen visual from when gina says the line to ej and big red in 2.07 when they’re getting ready to do the dance off.
1:10-1:11 carlos “we got this”
the visual from when carlos says this to the group in the north high main hallway before they do their ‘what team wildcats’ led by ricky in 2.07, framed as being attached to gina’s line.
1:11-1:13
ricky goes in for the what team, on screen, but we only get the “wildcats!” audio, accompanied by the wide shot visual of them all throwing their arms up.
1:13-1:15 “there’s something in the air” lyrics playing.
title card reading “on may 14″
1:15-1:17 “about to go off right now” lyrics from something in the air (2.01)
gina dancing in hallway portion of something in the air, ricky and nini behind her with dancers
1:18 miss jenn (partially v.o.) “north high is impressive”
shot from 2.08 of them all on the bleachers in the bomb shelter, day 1 of the improv workshop thing, miss jenn briefly delivering the line next to carlos.
1:19 gina v.o. “they have their own dance studio”
footage from the mob song dance off in 2.07 from the back of the north high theatre, short clip of gina delivering the end of her line from 2.07 in the hallway, close up of north high dancers from 2.07 in the mob song dance off.
1:22-1:23 miss jenn (partial v.o.) “but all we need is-” “to connect with our characters”
kourtney (and the other wildcats) reaction shot from when the curtain raises to reveal north high’s batb set. miss jenn delivering the second part of her line on screen next to carlos in 2.08 in the bomb shelter. miss jenn throwing the ball at carlos, hitting him in the head.
1:23-1:29
miss jenn throws ball at carlos from 2.08, reaction of carlos getting hit, screaming “ow”, wide shot of miss jenn “in character lumiere”, carlos’s reaction- “ow” with his arms up like the candelabra, fade to black.
1:29-1:34 nini v.o. “so many kids would kill to get into a school like this” / “but there’s one thing they don’t have”
visual of nini at her dorm doorway from 2.02, nini looking frustrated/burnt out at her desk at yac. all the kids at the pizza parlor, ricky holding nini up on facetime for the group picture big red’s mom is taking. alternate wider group shot at the pizza parlor of them getting ready to take the picture. at the end of ‘don’t have’ it goes directly into-
1:35-1:37 ricky “hard to picture doing a show without you”
visual for line in 2.02 of ricky on facetime with nini in the hallway before the audition in 2.02, followed by nini visual from her dorm room, looking sad when ricky’s phone dies at the pizza parlor and their facetime call drops later in 2.02, fade to black.
1:37-1:41 lily (partially v.o.) “sounds like your girlfriend wants some space,” “let me know if you’re looking for one who doesn’t.”
starts black screen, visual of lily delivering the line in 2.07, visual of ricky reacting to her telling him about nini’s song and such, back to lily for second half of line. (as a note, the line change to “sounds more like a girl who wants some space” as aired in the episode is one of my favorite examples of adr i’ve seen. it was a way better choice for the scene, though the line in the trailer is way more dramatic for a trailer, if anyone wants me to talk about why i like this change so much i absolutely will.)
1:41-1:42-
seb possible side eye / confusion? face from 2.03, i think it’s when they’re trying to do the waltz / kourtney’s trying to sing batb title song and it’s not going well, kourtney stands next to him and they’re in the bomb shelter.
1:42-1:47 - carlos “is this mamma mia 2?”, background something in the air music. “cause here we go again”
visual of carlos asking miss jenn this in 2.02 at auditions. visual of gina dancing to a dancer’s heart from 2.05, close up and then wide shot, visual of big red and ashlyn dancing in the pizza parlor to kourtney singing batb title song from 2.03, close up visual of nini’s hand putting the microphone in the stand from when she goes to serenade ricky at his house in 2.03. visual of carlos delivering second part of line to miss jenn at auditions in 2.02.
1:47-1:48 ashlyn “hit it!”, then “there’s something in the air” lyric plays.
we see ashlyn deliver the line to ej at auditions to press play on 1-2-3, we see ej turn on the stereo. changes to big red adjusting the lights at the quince in 2.05, changes to title card.
1:48-1:50
title card reading “this season”
1:50-1:52 something in the air lyric plays, “about to go off right now”
ashlyn, kourtney, gina, and dancers perform 1-2-3 fantasy sequence from 2.02.
1:52-1:54 zack “i’ve always loved your competitive spirit”
zack delivering the line in the coffee shop in 2.05, then miss jenn’s grinning reaction to it
1:54-1:56, something in the air lyrics come in
title card, “school the competition” aka the tagline.
1:56-1:58
shot of nini playing the rose song on the stage in 2.06.
1:58-
shot of gina dancing at the quince in 2.05.
1:58-1:59 gina “it’s going to take all of us”
gina delivering the line in seb’s barn in 2.05, talking about planning the quince, but presumably talking about the competition. shifts to visual of gina, ashlyn, and kourtney hugging in 2.02 at auditions i think after doing 1-2-3 but maybe before.
1:59-2:00 “rawrr”
ricky roars from rehearsals in what i’m pretty sure was a 2.05 rehearsal scene of the wolves in the forest.
2:00-2:01 - lily (partially v.o.) “may the best school win”
visual of her delivering the line before the dance off in 2.07, meant to be implied as about the menkies, visual of dancers performing something in the air from 2.01
2:02-2:04 - natalie v.o. “buckle up wildcats”
visual of mazarra sort of? dancing in 2.05, visual of ricky after playing the perfect gift for nini in 2.01 and smiling at her, visual of gina’s high kick in 2.04 when she’s demonstrating what she wants for be our guest, visual of miss jenn and zack dancing to around you in 2.07, fade to black.
2:04-2:06 - natalie “this party’s just getting started”
we see natalie on screen delivering her line with the noisemaker from 2.01 new years eve.
2:06-2:09 “there’s something in the air” lyric plays
title card: “high school musical: the musical: the series - original series streaming may 14
#hsmtmts#hsmtmts season 2#hsmtmts season 2 trailer#//this took approximately too many hours i don't want to talk about it#//but yeah do what you will with this information. there's only footage from 2.01-2.07 also notable
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sick
The last year has been simultaneously wonderful and horrible. Wonderful in that I feel like I’ve finally been making progress with my life - I started my transition, got therapy, and spent a couple of semesters at college. I made friends, found a lover - “it slaps tbh.” At the same time, I started digging into myself, trying to get to the root of what makes me tick. I found out a lot about myself, good and bad. Things tend to stick together less as you dig deeper though, nothing can retain its form or cohesion past a certain depth of mind. That took recovery time, of course. All stresses have some form of recovery time requirement, so that the stressed individual can get back to optimal performance. Unfortunately, I did not have enough time. Classwork became overbearing, not necessarily because of its own difficulty, but because of my inability to keep up with other parts of life. I began to freeze when attempting to complete my tasks. I missed assignments that were due. I nearly failed quite a few classes. This needed to change. I needed time. I couldn’t make time, though - I felt the need to push myself so that I could get to making things better, sooner. I wanted things to slow down. I wished so dearly that things would just slow down.
A finger on the monkey’s paw curls.
I’ve been back with the family this summer, as I don’t really have the resources to secure my own place for the time being. My father went on a vacation just after I got home, and came back a couple of weeks later. He seemed fine at first, but after a day, began to fall ill. The day after that, I followed.
The night after my father began to show signs of illness, I stayed up a bit later than I suppose I should have. I usually find it hard to sleep anyways, so staying up to nearly five in the morning venting to a close friend of mine was easy to do. Even as I was laying in my bed waiting for the sweet embrace of sleep to take hold of me for the next hour and thirty minutes, I was oblivious to my mistake. It was only when I then woke up at nine that same morning when I began to realize my mistake. When you are sick, time begins to feel like it slows down around you. My head tends to feel like it’s “full of tar” when I’m not feeling well in general, but especially so when I am physically ill - this exacerbates that feeling of time slowing to a crawl. This is of course, much worse, when you are also fighting sleep deprivation. Worse yet is if you are also trying to sleep because you know you will be spending the rest of the day sleep deprived if you do not manage to fall asleep. After an hour of waiting to fall asleep and only feeling simultaneously as tired and awake as I’ve ever been, I sat up.
While this might not have been a mistake, it felt like it was.
My head immediately started pounding. It felt as if my blood itself was working overtime, rushing through my body as if making up for lost time. All of my nerves seemed to be carrying sensory input that found itself in the same race. The little bit of light that found its way through my window, the sound of my parents outside of my room, and even the sound of the blood pounding around my skull - I took it all in immediately, and couldn’t stop taking it in. My sensory issues have always been a problem, but this simply added more weight to it. As I began to take in everything all at once, either because of my own movement or because of the senses being flooded, my head began to hurt terribly. It certainly wasn’t the worst pain I’ve ever felt, but that doesn’t make it stop being terrible. I continued to get up, and the assault on my mind - the pain, my senses, everything - worsened. This would continue to be how I felt for the rest of the day, fading in and out of consciousness - every time I woke up, wishing I could just pass out again.
This, of course, turned out to be COVID-19. My father tested positive, and due to my symptoms, we could safely assume that I contracted it from him. Luckily, the three of us in the house are vaccinated, and my mother has not displayed any symptoms yet. Knowing that others have suffered much worse fates from the coronavirus, I consider the three of us extremely lucky. I’m currently hoping that we aren’t left with anything permanent, but at least for now, it seems that it won’t be fatal or debilitating. Unfortunately, I know others who can’t say the same.
Please stay safe. Wash your hands. Wear a mask. Social distance. Try not to go on unnecessary trips. We’re still in a pandemic.
#covid#sick#as in physically ill#:^'(#disease#pandemic#coronavirus#wash your hands#at least it gave me something to write about i guess
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Home
Chapter One- Goodbye
A bell rang from the front door of a local restaurant in East Tennessee. A pale waitress seated the elderly regulars with a smile. There was a table towards the far end of the restaurant next to a window. It was quieter there; they always said it made conversation easier.
“Will it be the usual eggs, grits, and bacon for you two today, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson?”
Mr Johnson gave the waitress a smile and joked, “I’m beginning to think we come here too often, Lucy!”
Lucy shook her head, “That’s ridiculous you all are my favorite customers! I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t get to see you every Sunday.”
The usual chorus of “what a sweet girl”s rang out from the couple, and she took their orders. They really were her favorite customers. They left the largest tips. It kinda sucked that she had to watch them be so cute together though. She cringed at how bitter she had to be for being upset and seeing an elderly couple get along.
She really didn’t want to be a depressing, bitter, lowlife. She had just expected she’d be doing a little more with her life at 21. Really, who’s life goal was to live with their mom and wait tables all their life? Granted, it might’ve helped if she hadn’t spent her high school years in a semi-miserable daze. You don’t exactly leave with plans when that happens.
The semi-miserable daze of yesteryear got her through the rest of the work day too. She walked home quiet and alone. The walk home was never bad. Hell, most of the time it was the highlight of her day. It was peaceful and pretty. She got to walk past the train track which however childish it was, always made her happy if she got to see one go by.
She entered the house quietly so as to not wake her mother. It was already nine, and the poor woman needed her sleep. She shed off her work clothes and crawled into bed. The air conditioning unit had gone out a month ago, and they hadn’t been able to get it fixed yet. She was getting tired of having to peel herself off her sheets in the morning.
Lucy didn’t know if it was the heat or just her own mind, but she couldn’t sleep. Everytime she was almost there the knowledge of her shituation would come crashing in on her. She’s 21, never went to college, never left her hometown, with no friends, and living with her mom. Was she gonna die this way? Oh god she hoped not. It wasn’t like she could afford college though. Her mother only made so much money, and so did she. She could swing a semester at most if she was really good with her money. Trade school was an option she supposed, but she didn’t feel like that was right either.
Lucy began to wonder if she had ever had any real aspirations. She had never really had a “dream” as a kid. A job never really on her radar either. She had always had other things to be wrapped up in. Just to see if maybe she had ever had any ideas, she decided to look through her old childhood journals. Most of them were shitty old poetry and sort of depressing ramblings, until she got to one entry. It described her working on making costumes and set pieces for her middle school play. That had been fun hadn’t it? Doing set design didn’t sound too bad.
As the night continued, she flipped back and forth between trying to convince herself to go through with it and desperately trying to convince herself not to. There probably wasn’t much money in it, but there wasn’t a fortune to make waiting tables either. She would have to move out west, but she had always wanted to travel. What were the odds she’d even be able to? She didn’t know, but she felt like she’d be happier if she at least tried.
By six in the morning she had convinced herself and started to pack. She didn’t have much to take. There were some dresses, pants, shirts, one extra pair of shoes, her wallet. Once she finished, she made her way downstairs so she could call her boss and tell her she would not be returning to work.
Her mother caught her in the middle of that activity and furrowed her brows, “What the hell are you doing?”
Lucy finished her call and turned to her mom, “I’m quitting my job.”
“Yeah, I heard that bit. I was asking why.”
Lucy shrugged, “I don’t feel like there’s anything for me here, so I’m moving.”
Her mom’s eyes widened, and she gave a sarcastic, “Oh, so you’re just going to…what? Move out west and become a movie star?”
Lucy laughed, “Close! I’m going to be a set designer.”
“Lucy, that’s fucking insane-a set designer?! You’re giving up a decent job to leave the city and make minimum wage?”
Lucy sighed and looked her mother in the eyes, “Listen mom, I don’t wanna live my life never having been outside the suburbs. I wanna at least try to do something more. Just give me a year, and if I don’t have anything going for me out West, I’ll come back, okay?”
Her mom sighed, “I’ll give you six months.”
“Seven,” Lucy replied, “Give me seven, and then I promise I’ll come back if it doesn’t work out.”
Her mom nodded, “Alright, but if you’re gonna go I recommend you go ahead and get your train ticket. It leaves in an hour.”
Lucy hugged her mom, “Thank you so much! I love you.”
Her mom laughed and hugged her back, “I love you too. Now, get down there before you miss the train!”
Lucy nodded and headed towards the train station. She managed to get a ticket and get on in time. In about 35 hours, she’d be in Los Angeles. She watched her town disappear out the window with a mix of excitement and terror. Seven months was all she had to get established enough to stay. She’d have to make it work somehow.
#writing#writblr#here's my weird thing from my weird writing project#original character#oc#my ocs#Lucy King#Home#Chapter 1
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Grabbing a Drink with R
I’m not sure how long most people have been here who follow me but you might remember a very long time ago now (like 5 years when I first started my tc journey) I wrote about R who was a professor, and still is a professor at where I am now going to be teaching, and how he was an older man who is just a really goofy guy and there’s no TC feelings there whatsoever.
Well, ever since I saw him walking around the University where I got my Masters, and yes he also teaches some classes there too, we have been trying to get together for a drink. Well, I let him know that we are now going to be co-workers and that I needed to go to the city where the college is to do HR paperwork things, and he told me to pick a place and time on that day for us to go get drinks.
I met up with him and we each got a pint of, well me a cider because I can’t stand beer, and him a light beer because he showed up hungry and the brewery I chose unfortunately didn’t sell any finger foods. We talked a lot and it was really nice especially because we discussed our marriage issues because he has had issues within his marriage and he was giving me some advice on how H and I are having issues and he basically told me to not make the same mistake he did and to leave if I think it is what is going to be the best thing for myself in the long run.
We also talked about one of the professors who used to work at the college who I was worried about being there, he had given me VERY creepy vibes. Luckily for me I was given the tea, and he will probably never be hired at the college again because he basically screwed over our department dean twice by accepting positions elsewhere and not informing the dean within a few weeks of the semester beginning.
Anyways... I haven’t had the chance to see J yet, we have texted a few times and I am supposed to write an email to give him information so he can write me a letter of rec., but I haven’t had the chance to yet.
I’m nervous to see him again... I have gained a little wait (which I know is just a part of life) but I am also nervous about what he will think of my tattoos. I know he wont care, but I think it will be a shock to him. *shrugs* but oh well right I guess it’ll be more of a shock for me if now since I have tattoos he treats me different and just help me realize that I am in love with someone who I don’t really know, right....? Right.
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It was just after the beginning of our first semester at college that I began to feel that something was a little off with my brother. Oh, it wasn’t a clearly defined feeling, and not a whole lot off, but, well… off. Chris (for Christian – don’t call him Christopher - he hates that) and I (I’m Carter) are identical twins. We’re nineteen-year-old six-footers, blond, blue-eyed, clean-cut, athletic, and (if I am the one to say it) handsome. He’s the elder by just a few minutes. We are so identical that, in old photos even I can’t tell who’s who unless I happen to remember what we were each wearing at the time (we’ve never, thank God, done that creepy-assed dress-alike thing some twins go in for). Now, I’ve never bought into the twins-have-a-psychic-bond crap, but Chris and I have always been really, really close; closer than most brothers. We’re the only kids, Dad died when we were barely four years old, and, with Mom having to work full-time to support us all, we got used early on to being on our own together a lot, so we naturally bonded all the more strongly. If I had a problem, it never occurred to me not to go to Chris first for advice or comfort, and it was the same for him. Don’t get me wrong; we love our mother, and she’s always been great to us, but it’s just that she couldn’t always be there. First by necessity and then by choice, we became each other’s best friend, our own twin support group, allies in adversity, the first to celebrate each other’s victories, the first to commiserate and bind each other’s wounds, facing the world shoulder to shoulder, an army of two marching in lock-step, and so familiar with each other’s preferences and reactions that, I suppose, from the outside it really might almost seem like we could read each other’s mind. That’s why I was extra sensitive to the little changes that were occurring now. It may not have been any psychic mumbo-jumbo, but I know Chris as completely as I know myself, and the subtle differences that his more casual acquaintances probably never even noticed had accumulated to the point that they were impossible for me to ignore.
First off, Chris just wasn’t acting like himself. He’d developed a tendency to daydream (or brood – I couldn’t tell which), and was tuning out into his little private world at some of the oddest times and places. Now, although neither of us is especially likely to be a candidate for the dean’s list any time soon, still, we’ve always been good solid B students with the occasional A and not a C in sight, who are normally alert and focused, and never, before this, had Chris shown the least inclination to be spacey or distracted. Second, he was talking in his sleep, and since we’ve shared a bedroom our entire lives, I know that’s not normal for him. I could never quite make out what he was saying (if indeed he wasn’t just mumbling incoherently), and truth be told it didn’t really wake me all the way up - we’re both pretty heavy sleepers. But I was roused into enough of a twilight state that I would remember his midnight muttering the next morning. And last and worst, he was starting to keep secrets. I know you’re thinking that’s no big deal; a grown man is bound to insist on some privacy. And Chris and I have always given each other space when we needed or asked for it. But what we’ve never done is to pretend there wasn’t something we were reserving as private, or to lie about it to each other! I had found out by accident in random conversation with fellow students that, on several occasions, Chris had not been where he’d told me he was going. Appointments, labs or study sessions he was supposedly attending had been much shorter than he claimed, or hadn’t taken place at all. Also, a couple of times I’d walked in just as he was ending a phone call that had pretty obviously been an actual conversation, only to have him volunteer the information (and without my having asked in the first place) that it was a wrong number. It had me feeling more than a little hurt that he no longer seemed to trust me, and, considering how remarkably few things we weren’t already comfortable sharing with each other (for example, we knew all about each other’s sex life: who’d got to first, second, or third base, or scored, and with which girls; within hours after it happened when and how we’d each lost our respective virginities; what the other fantasized to when jacking off – he’s all about tits, while I’m a sucker for long shapely legs, especially in high heels – not to mention having even jacked off together occasionally when we were younger) it really worried me to imagine what on earth he might be up to that he felt he needed to keep that hidden. Drugs? Gambling debts? A pregnant girlfriend?
Three Weeks Earlier
“Man, if I have to fill out one more damned form I’m goin’ postal!” Chris had that tight look around the eyes that he gets when he’s feeling stressed. “They must have their own tree farm just to supply the wood pulp for the paper!”
“Chill, Bro. I’m pretty sure that was the last of them,” I said, as cheerfully as I could, given that I was as sick of the seemingly endless parade of enrollment paperwork as he was. “By now, every individual in this entire university must have their own personal hand-written copy of our info! Anyway, I doubt they’ll make us fill out anything else just in order to be allowed to eat dinner, or to get in to the orientation entertainment. By the way, did you find out anything about what that’s going to be? Not another ‘motivational’ pep-talk, I hope!”
“Nah. They’ve hired some dude to do a hypnosis show. Pretty cool, huh? I’m thinkin’ maybe I’ll try to get myself hypnotized – see what it’s like.”
“Maybe I’ll try it, too,” I said. It did sound pretty interesting.
“One of us ought to stay awake to watch. Otherwise how will we know what happened? It’d be a total waste of time – no more fun than taking a nap!”
“Well, maybe you’re right. But why shouldn’t you be the one standing watch?”
Chris teased, “’Cause I’m the oldest and I say so. And besides I’ll make for a better show. I’m the good-looking one!” He was cackling like an idiot.
Laughing as well, I gave him a light smack to the back of the head. “You wish, monkey-boy!” But I didn’t bother to argue the point any further. Let him be the one who tried hypnosis; it wasn’t that important. Still giggling, Chris led the way to the dining hall and our dinner. Dorm food – Yecch!
The hypnosis show turned out to be pretty intense. True to his word, Chris made a dash for the stage as soon as the guy asked for volunteers, and he succeeded in snagging one of the seats. I had mixed feelings. I mean, I was envious of the experience he was going to have that I wasn’t, but at the same time I knew I’d have had a problem with someone messing around in my head while there was an audience to witness it. I watched fascinated as the hypnotist Justin Spencer (he was a lot younger than I would have expected, and rather than projecting a comforting air of respectability he had more of a Vegas lounge-lizard vibe to him, but he sure knew his stuff) took the volunteers, including my brother, neatly down into trance. This guy was good! He had a voice like warm honey that just sort of melted into your head and eased you along with whatever he said. I wasn’t the least surprised as I watched Chris’s eyes lose focus and then drift shut. As a matter of fact, I had to blink and shake my head a couple of times to keep from zoning out right along with him. In short order my brother’s posture went from upright to jello, and he sagged over until he finally lost his balance and collapsed into the lap of the hypnotized chick next to him. I hoped he had at least some remaining awareness of reality, because she was really hot, her skirt was really short, and his sleeping face was just inches from the Promised Land. Lucky bastard! Once the volunteers were under, the various bits the hypnotist suggested ran from cute to hilarious, but, as the show progressed and he figured out which of his subjects were the easiest to manipulate, the suggestions became more and more inappropriate. I began to feel very glad that Chris, who was obviously way more vulnerable to suggestion than the average dude and therefore in the thick of the r-rated action, was the one up there and not me. Slow-dancing with another guy may be funny enough, but pretending to give oral sex to a donut as if the hole were a pussy is gross; and sliding your hand down inside your pants to play with yourself in public is just plain outrageous! Towards the end of the show, he sent my brother and a couple of the other guys off stage, and when they returned, each was proudly wearing his own underpants as a hat! At least, unlike those in the case of one of the other poor victimized saps, Chris’s were clean (thanks, Mom). There was a little lull in the action while the hypnotist spoke quietly off mike to each subject in turn, presumably implanting the personal improvement suggestions he’d promised at the beginning of the show. Then he left them all with one last suggestion: for the rest of the evening, any time someone shook their hand they’d experience the sensation of an intense orgasm (but not remember it afterwards, I suppose so they wouldn’t be trying to avoid – or, for that matter, seek out - the next handshake). Before actually sending them back to their seats, he demonstrated, first with the hot chick, who screamed so ecstatically I thought the glass in the stage-lights might crack, and then with my brother. Chris went rigid, making a little gasping moan (I recognized it as the same sound I make when I’m cumming), his hips flexed convulsively, and the front of his jeans, which had tented out almost instantly, darkened from the fluid (remember he was no longer wearing any underwear to help preserve the tattered remnants of his dignity). I was frankly ticked off at the crudeness of it all, but it was way too late for anything to be done about it.
I hustled Chris back to the dorm room we’d be sharing as quickly as I could, to spare him further embarrassing exposure. He didn’t remember a thing that had gone on after the hypnotist began to hypnotize them all, so I filled him in on what he’d been doing. Chris gaped as I went on, and then, when I got to the really raunchy parts, refused to believe it. “Jeez, Carter, that’s disgusting! No way would I ever do that shit in public, hypnotized or not! Why would you say such awful crap?” I finally had to reach over and shake his hand – a couple of times, since he still had no conscious recollection of the orgasms he was having - until his crotch was literally awash with his cum, before he would acknowledge the truth. When he could no longer deny the evidence of his own eyes (or jeans), and had caught his breath, he grated, “That sick bastard!” Then, looking me square in the eye he added,“Touch my hand one more time tonight and you’re a dead man, Bro!”
The atmosphere between us was decidedly awkward as we retired for the night, but by morning Chris was over his snit, and everything seemed back to normal.
Seemed…
But that day was the first of those so-called wrong numbers. It was also (although I didn’t find this out until much later) the first of my brother’s unexplained absences. We each had interviews scheduled for part-time jobs that afternoon (Mom, who was very savvy about such things, had made sure that there was a nice investment portfolio out of Dad’s life insurance to pay for our actual schooling costs, but this was the only way for us to have any regular spending money of our own). We’d flipped a coin to see who went for the coffee shop and who tried the fast food joint, but Chris never made it to his appointment. Yet when I asked how it went, he blandly told me he was just waiting to hear whether he got the job. And that next night was the first time Chris woke me up talking in his sleep (okay, almost woke me up; I didn’t really register it until the next morning except as a kind of cloudy dream of hearing him saying something or other over and over). I don’t know how often he was getting those secretive phone calls, because I only walked in on them a couple of times, and, of course, the mysterious absences went pretty much unnoticed, at least at the time they were happening, so I have no real idea how many of them there were either. But the sleep-talking became such a regular occurrence that, after a week or so, I eventually stopped waking up for it at all. It just existed as a shadowy awareness on the edge of my dream state that the after-hours monolog was still going on.
Two Days Ago
I had just returned to our room after my last class, having walked all the way across campus in a brown study mulling over my concerns. Chris was already there. He shut off his cell phone just as I entered and once again I had that odd sense that I was interrupting something. But all he said was, “Another damn telemarketer robo-call.” Then, after a quick glance at his watch he added, “And now I’m gonna be late. Shit!” He grabbed his jacket and hurried out the door. “Chem lab - don’t how long it’ll take - don’t wait your dinner for me, Bro – see ya later”, he called over his shoulder and he was gone.
“Just typical”, I fumed to myself, “Weird phone-call, and now he’s off to something that may or may not actually be a chem lab!” And then it struck me, “And you’re just sitting here like a complete idiot while he goes!” I grabbed my own jacket and dashed out the door after him. No more guessing and fretting. I was finally going to get to the bottom of this, come hell or high water!
When I got to the street, fortunately I could still see Chris’ blond head, now more than a block away. I put on a burst of speed, startling a couple of coeds who were paying more attention to their gossiping than to their walking, and managed to keep him in sight. Justifying my suspicions, he was heading towards the edge of campus and not remotely in the direction of the chemistry building. Where the heck was he going?
That afternoon, I discovered I possessed unsuspected skills as a stalker. Of course, while we were still on campus it wasn’t all that hard. There were plenty of kids out and about headed in all directions for me to blend in with, and Chris didn’t appear to be especially concerned with checking his back-trail anyway. But when he crossed into the more residential neighborhood to the south, there was much less traffic, foot or vehicle, and I found myself skulking behind parked cars, sticking to shaded spots, in general behaving like some comic B-movie spy. In a way I was lucky no one else noticed me either. They would likely have called the cops about the ‘suspicious prowler’. If I hadn’t been so worried, I would probably have cracked myself up laughing; tailing my brother this way was so “The Hardy Boys and the Mystery of the Missing Twin” (although, with both of us being blond, I don’t know who would have been Frank). Melodrama aside however, I did manage to keep him under surveillance without his ever once becoming aware of me.
After about a twenty minute walk, Chris went up to one of the houses (not any different from the others as far as I could see) and rang the doorbell. The door was opened by a dark-haired older guy (thirties, maybe?). As he ushered my brother inside I did a major double-take. Holy shit! Minus the flamboyant stage costume, it was that hypnotist from the orientation show!! Suddenly all the weirdness began to fall into a pattern: the phone-calls, to make appointments Chris was then helplessly compelled to keep (and lie about); the disappearances, the hours spent in further sessions so that the sleaze could bind him even more firmly under hypnotic control; the sleep-talking, doubtless my hapless bro’s subconscious reaction to the emotional conflict of his unnatural enslavement. The only unanswered question in my mind was why? What did he want with Chris? And I could come up with one plausible (and ugly) answer. As I’ve already mentioned, we’re not bad-looking. It wouldn’t be the first time either of us had received the kind of attention from another guy that we only wanted from girls. I only prayed I was in time to prevent the denouement. If Chris had already become some perv’s mind-controlled fuck-toy I don’t think he’d ever get over it!
I was of two minds whether to call the authorities, or to go for a full frontal assault and just pound on the door. But after my initial shock, it had occurred to me that, as unlikely as I found it, there still might be a more innocent explanation. Chris might be seeing the guy for a more legitimate kind of hypnotherapy, and all the subterfuge was just his attempt to keep me from finding out and worrying about why he thought he needed it. (Of course, if that were the case, hey, big failure there!). I decided a little more snooping was in order. Cautiously I sneaked to the side of the house. One of the windows was slightly ajar, and, although the curtains were drawn, they didn’t quite meet at the center. I could see a slice of the room through the resulting crack without being visible myself, as well as hear what was going on inside.
My brother was seated (or rather, slumped) on a couch, his eyes closed, his face blankly relaxed. It was obvious that he was indeed under hypnosis. I couldn’t see the hypnotist from my vantage point, but I could hear that smooth, honeyed voice.
“…That’s right, Chris… even deeper than that… deeper than ever before… so relaxed and peaceful… you can’t think… can’t resist… there’s nothing but my voice… my words… you obey without question… nothing can disturb you… nothing but my command can awaken you… deeper and deeper… just like that…”
I had that same feeling that I’d had at the show of almost wanting to go along with the soothing drone myself. My eyelids had even begun to flutter a little, but I shook myself back to wakefulness.
“You feel so good now… but it’s very warm in the room, isn’t it?”
“Yeah… hot…” My brother sounded asleep or drugged.
“It’s so hot… and it would feel so-o-o good just to take off all your clothes and be comfortable… Go ahead, Chris… go ahead and strip… take off everything you’re wearing.”
To my horror, my hypnotized brother kicked off his sneakers and then stood, at the same time beginning to unbutton his shirt. Well, so much for innocent explanations! “You make him stop that RIGHT NOW!” I roared. Then I sprinted back to front door and began to pound on it like a demented SWAT teamer.
A moment later the hypnotist opened the door. Even in my agitation, it struck me that he hardly looked as shocked or discomfited by the interruption as I would have expected him to. His apparent poise froze me for a moment as he looked me up and down. “Ah… the twin… Carter, is it? Please come in and calm yourself. I’m sure that once I’ve explained, you’ll realize there’s no need for these histrionics.” He stepped aside to allow me in.
I brushed roughly by him and ran to the room where I knew he was holding Chris. My brother was bare-chest, barefoot and beginning to unzip his jeans. “Jeez, Chris, snap out of it! Wake up!!” But he took absolutely no notice of me. I grabbed his hands away from his now-open fly, but as soon as I let go of them, he calmly went right back to his mindless striptease, undoing the top button and then easing his tight jeans down his legs.
“He only responds to my orders,” the hypnotist said blandly from behind me.
“Goddamnit!” I yelled, almost in tears with rage and frustration. “You bring him out of it now!!! The only reason I haven’t beaten you to a bloody pulp is I know I need your voice to free him!”
“Well, yes… there is that. But are you so certain he wants to be freed? Haven’t you ever heard that a hypnotist can’t make a man do something in trance he wouldn’t be willing to do not in trance? Your brother likes what we’ve been doing together here, don’t you, Christian?”
“I like what we’ve been doing here…” My brother’s empty, sleepy agreement did nothingwhatsoever to convince me. He sounded like the absolute model of a brainwashed slave, with no more free will than an echo.
“That’s bullshit and you know it! If Chris is so okay with having his mind and body messed with, then why does he talk all night in his sleep from the stress of the unconscious conflict?”
The hypnotist grinned like a shark. “Is that what you think was happening? Oh my goodness, this will be fun! Christian, please explain to your brother.” There was an odd inflection to the word ‘explain’.
Without opening his eyes, my now totally, embarrassingly nude brother said, “Carter, ____.”
My mind spun. What was… he said… something… it was… was… I was suddenly weightless, and warm, and happy, drifting in a tranquil pool of nothingness. My body felt like butter melting in the sun. Strong, gentle hands eased me to the floor as my muscles turned to rubber. All the stress had vanished. Somehow, I knew I too was now hypnotized, but I simply felt too good to care. Nothing mattered except Chris… not my fears… not the hypnotist… I would do anything Chris told me to as long as I could stay in this wonderful (and oddly familiar) feeling…
“Carter… going deeper and deeper, with every breath, with every beat of your heart…” My brother’s voice flowed over my melting will and washed it away completely. After some time (a little? a lot? I couldn’t judge), when he had so thoroughly enchained my mind that I could no longer think for myself, Chris ordered me to undress, and my hands willingly (will-lessly?) complied.
The hypnotist said something to him that I didn’t register, and then Chris commanded me, “Carter, you will now hear and obey Justin just as you obey me. You are completely under his control as well as mine. You are in Justin’s power. Say that.”
“I am in Justin’s power…” Was that blank toneless voice mine?
“Very good, Carter,” the hypnotist smoothly took over the proceedings. “You may open your eyes now, but don’t wake up. You too, Christian.”
My eyes struggled open and opposite me I could see Chris also blinking owlishly. We were both mother-naked now, but I couldn’t manage to care about that.
“Why don’t you both go and sit down on the couch? Side by side. That’s right… just like that. Carter, as you now must realize, your brother wasn’t expressing any subconscious anxieties during the night. He was hypnotizing you. It’s really quite easy to turn the sleep a hypnotizable individual into a trance state. In just one session of hypnotic instruction I was able to teach Christian the basic technique, and he took it from there. Since your brother is so extremely responsive to hypnosis, I gambled that you would be as well. After all, twins have so much in common, don’t they? And I was certainly right. Here you are, so completely hypnotized. You are deeply hypnotized, aren’t you… deeply hypnotized.”
“Deeply hypnotized…” my voice automatically responded, echoed by Chris.
“That’s right. So deeply hypnotized that you’ll believe anything I tell you… do anything I say. Won’t you?”
My peaceful, empty mind couldn’t think of any argument to that. “Yes.” Again, my brother and I answered almost in unison.
“Good, because I have plans for you both.” He picked up a video camera (where had that come from?). “Christian, Carter, you love your brother, don’t you?”
Well, DUH!! “Yes…”
“Of course you do. I want you to show your brother how much you love him… physically”
Okay, that was totally weird. I mean, Chris and I aren’t the kind of up-tight dweebs who spend their lives pretending they don’t have arms, so we’ve exchanged hugs often enough, on birthdays, Christmas, at hard-fought sporting contests (and since we were both on our high-school swim team, some of those were even bare-chest and wet). But we’d never before had full-on naked body contact with each other, and, other than, as I’ve mentioned before, jacking off together a couple of times in our early teens when we were still figuring out how jacking off worked, we’ve never had any kind of real sex with each other; we like girls! However, before I could process my discomfort, let alone act on it, my arms had already wrapped themselves around Chris (and his around me).
As we embraced, Justin continued, “That’s right. You’ve probably never really noticed until now how wonderful it feels to touch your brother; how good his smooth skin feels under your hands, how satisfying it is to squeeze his hard muscles. It feels so good you can’t let go. You have to continue to hug and caress him… to make love to him.”
The hypnotist continued to talk, and, at some level, I was continuing to listen; I had no choice. But my focus was completely filled with the awareness of Chris in my arms. It was all true, just as Justin had said. In all the times my brother and I had hugged, for whatever reason, it had always been about the camaraderie, the brotherly love, the shared emotional experience. It had never before been about the actual physical sensation. I’d never noticed the warm, satiny quality of his skin under my hands as they traced the sculpted contours of his back, nor the smooth, satisfying solidity of him pressed against my body; never noticed that, at exactly the same height, we fit together perfectly; never felt the frisson of my nipples rubbing against his chest, or the exclamation point of his against mine; never registered that our hearts beat in exactly the same rhythm and speed, that the scent of our heated bodies was identical. And I was beginning to get turned on! Had Justin suggested that? I couldn’t tell. My mind was simply too hypnotized to judge, and holding my brother was both as unreal as a wet-dream and, at the same time, the most hyper-intense, concentrated reality I’d ever experienced. My cock was getting harder and harder.
My lips felt like magnets being drawn to Chris’ mouth. Wait… that had to be a hypnotic suggestion. I tried to resist it, but I might as well have tried to resist the incoming tide. My brother’s sleepy face drew nearer and nearer, his beautiful eyes glazed and half-closed, his expression blank, and I stopped trying to fight my compulsion. His lips looked so soft and inviting that I just had to taste them. Our lips met, locked, opened into the deepest, wettest, most thorough kiss I’ve ever experienced. As our tongues dueled and our bodies continued to strain and rub against each other, I had a fleeting sense that this must be what the girls feel when I make out with them. Getting it on with my twin brother was weirdly masturbatory, like a hypno-dream of making love with myself.
Chris’s hand found my erection and began to fondle it, causing me to groan helplessly with pleasure. It felt just like my own hand; and just as familiar and intimately knowledgeable about my preferences. Almost instinctively I followed suit, grasping his moist hard-on. His cock felt just like my own to my stroking hand, and I quickly fell into a rhythm, long-accustomed from my own use, one that matched his perfectly.
The pleasure built and built, but somehow we weren’t getting to the climax. It wasn’t enough… My brother had relinquished my mouth by this point and was working his down. I suddenly realized that he had the right idea. I needed to suck him. Wait!! I’m not a cocksucker and neither is Chris! These weren’t my thoughts… it was another suggestion! But try as I might, Justin’s hypnotic voice was so entrenched in my thoughts that I couldn’t separate it out. His orders had become indistinguishable from my own will… were my will. My body helplessly adjusted itself into a sixty-nine configuration with Chris. I had a momentary view of his hard cock, so like looking at my own, but from an angle I could never have achieved, and then, as I felt my brother’s hot mouth envelop my dick, my own lips opened to engulf his erection. I seemed to know how to use my tongue to protect him from my teeth, how to relax my throat muscles to accommodate his length, and my delighted cock told me Chris was just as adroit. It was instinctive, or else the constant drone of the hypnotist’s words contained some instruction as well as compulsion. My hands played with his ball-sac and then began to finger his ass, and I could feel him doing the same to me. It felt incredible.
I’ve eaten my share of pussy and, frankly, not that big a fan of the flavor, so, with what little personal awareness I had left, I’d expected to be at least somewhat repulsed. But Chris’s hard cock, juicy with pre-cum, was delicious! This was great! My new favorite flavor and smell! Had Justin just said that? It didn’t matter any longer. I just knew I had to have more… had to have it filling my mouth, had to have it all over my face. I was permanently addicted. I knew I’d never get enough of my brother’s cock, my brother’s cum! I sucked away with a passion and felt Chris intensify his suctioning on me as well. I was nearing the edge, and in my hands I felt my brother’s scrotum contract. Then the hypnotist’s voice, like a cataclysmic thunder-clap through my awareness, commanded, “Cum now!”, and I was caught up in the most seismically intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced. My mouth was flooded with Chris’s juice as he came at exactly the same time. Our thrashing bodies pulled us apart from each other so that at least the last two remaining blasts of jizz escaped our mouths and splashed across each other’s faces. I was so excited by the smell and feel of that, that, scarcely had the first wave of orgasm ended when I was shooting another load, all over my brother’s face. And, at the same time, I felt the warm gush of his second orgasm splash across my lips and cheeks.
Shakily Chris and I sat back up. The sight of my cum smeared all over his beloved face filled me with such tenderness that I pulled him into my arms again. The smell of my load was the same as the smell of his and our damp, flushed faces mixed the two together as we kissed gently, over and over, basking in the afterglow.
Then the irresistible voice of the hypnotist commanded, “Carter, Christian, sleep deeply, minds blank,” and I plummeted into darkness.
“… so you see there was no reason for you to be upset. Chris wasn’t cheating on you. He was just coming to me for help with his study habits,” Justin was saying pleasantly.
I seemed to have zoned out there for a moment, probably excess relief at the innocent explanation. I looked sheepishly at my brother. “Sorry I over-reacted, bro, Mr. Spencer.”
Chris smiled lovingly. “It’s okay, Carter. I think it’s kind of sweet you can still be jealous over me. But you know you’re the only one I love; always have been, always will be.” He leaned over and kissed me.
Apologizing once more to the hypnotist (what a nice guy!), I pulled Chris to his feet and we started our exit. But, you know that psychic twin thing. As we exchanged a glance I just knew what Chris was thinking, and I was thinking the same thing: we really owed Justin more than just an apology. And I thought I knew what would be most appropriate. As one, Chris and I fell to our knees and I began to undo the hypnotist’s fly.
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Episode Ten: Gia and Peter
As the gang formulates
Their plans to save the family
Let’s take this time to look back
One last time into the past of Michellee
I think this time
It’ll make things much more…
Interesting
Once Michellee finished high school, she went to a college as far away from Snobbery Hills as she could go. All the way to Meepville University.
There, she freely studied art as her major. Also, since she minored in number crunching, she had a good backup career to fall back on.
The first true friend she ever made was her roommate, Gia Maxwell.
As Michellee lugged her belongings upstairs, a sky blue-furred Knox with a voluminous head of pale blond hair asked “Do you need any help?”
“Yes please”, Michellee answered.
The girl took Michellee’s backpack and the other handle of her foot locker. “My name’s Gia. Gia Maxwell.”
“Michellee” She groaned, carrying her suitcase up each step.
“Just Michellee, or do you not like your last name?”
“No, I don’t like it, but I don’t have the power to change it.”
“I believe anyone can have the power to do anything!”
“You kind of sound like someone who didn’t go through any hardships in her life.”
“And you did?”
“You don’t even want to know, missy.”
“Oh, come on. Try me.”
“Seriously. You don’t.” Michellee tried to keep her voice level, her lip beginning to shake. Unfortunately, Gia didn’t notice due to exerting so much attention on carrying the really heavy case up one step at a time.
“Have a bad relationship back home? Mom and Dad mistreat you?”
“Please! I don’t want to talk about it!” Michellee lets go of the handle of the foot locker. Fortunately, they were at the top of the stairs, so it didn’t send Gia flying back down. She plopped herself down on the windowsill.
Adjusting the case’s resting position, Gia comes over to Michellee and sits on the windowsill next to her. “Hey. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed so much.”
Michellee took in gasps of air as she sobbed.
Other incoming freshmen carried their things upstairs, passing by the two girls sitting on the windowsill.
“I’m sorry”, Gia repeated. She put an arm around Michellee and held her close. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I did have it rough.”
“How’s that supposed to make me feel better?”, Michellee pondered.
“I…am not sure. But look at me! I said you have the power to do anything, and look at where we are! At a university in the city where nobodys become somebodys!” She turns around and motions toward the city skyline. “Like that Snerz man.”
Michellee looks behind her. “So…you’re saying I should live in the now and forge a better future?”
“Pretty much.”
And so, the two of them completed their climb upstairs and surprisingly discovered that they’re roommates.
“No way!”, Gia exclaimed. “Now I have someone to inspire!”
Before nightfall, the two girls had completely unpacked their bags and decorated their sides of the room. In this grace period before lights out, the two of them practiced their talents, both of which were in the performing arts department: Michellee, with her forte in drawing and painting; and Gia playing a concerto on her violin.
Now, I’m sure we all know
What was going through the artist’s head
But Gia was really starting
To become Michellee’s friend
Sure, it may not rhyme, but who cares? Besties!
——
After the semester, the students were about to go on break.
“What are you gonna do over break, Michellee?”, Gia asked as the two of them each packed a suitcase.
“Hopefully find a place to stay.”
“Don’t you have a family?”
“Not a whole one.”
Gia stops what she’s doing and walks over to her friend. “You get kicked out or something?”
“No. I just refuse to go back.”
“What happened?”
Keeping herself together, Michellee explained: “My mom hates me and my dad left me when I was five.”
“Why does your mom hate you?”
“I can’t tell you. You’ll hate me too.”
“Aww, no I won’t!” Gia sits on Michellee’s bed and takes her hand. “I swear I promise that I won’t tell anyone.”
“Do you really promise?”
“I’ve never been so serious about making one.”
The artist closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “She actually hated me before this technically, but it was because I had…” Michellee finished that statement by whispering it in her ear.
Gia gasped. Michellee braced herself for the possible stoning.
“She hates you for that?”
“Plus other things! I probably hate me too, don’t you?”
Michellee backed up against the wall and slid down, hugging her knees and sobbing. Gia squats down in front of her.
“I don’t hate you.” She pulls her friend closer. “If you want to, you can stay with me and my parents.”
——
Four years later…
In the following years,
The girl’s friendship never wavered
But in the winter break of senior year,
They vacationed in a ski resort all the other students favored
Even during the intermittent summers, Michellee stayed in the Maxwell household. Gia’s parents even saw her as a surrogate daughter.
For this final winter break, Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell trusted them to go on break without them. Along with their classmates, they went to Mt. Rooglehorn Ski Resort.
Gia was a fast learner, but Michellee was incredibly nervous. Her anxiety peaked when she realized who tagged along: Peter Paesano.
He transferred schools at the start of the term; majoring in economics. He was such a good skier since he also delivered mail to a community of walruses in the north; once everyday and on Saturday’s twice. In addition to being so academically inclined, he was incredibly kind to everyone. Some people wondered why he didn’t have a girlfriend. Besides, those chocolate curls and shining white teeth gave him an irresistible edge.
As he effortlessly wove between the trees down the hill, Michellee blushed and smiled.
Gia, taking notice of her bestie’s lovesick face, says “You like him, don’t you?”
“What?” Michellee scoffs and says, “No…” She was chuckling because she knew that she was lying.
“Please, I know you do. Why don’t you talk to him?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s…you know? A pro and I didn’t even know how to ski until you showed me. I’d just embarrass myself in front of him.”
“He probably doesn’t care about that. You never know until you try.”
Seemed like a good point.
Michellee prepared to ski downhill, but her foot slipped out of her right ski. She started to panic as she began falling. As she rolled down the slope, Michellee was caught up in a giant snowball that broke apart as she crashed into a tree.
“Miss, are you okay?”
Michellee opened her eyes and saw Peter looking down at her. She gasped.
“Oh, I think so.” She tried standing up but a sharp pain ran through her leg.
“Hold on, let me see it.”
As Peter looked at her leg, Michellee took a brief glance at it; and regretted it almost immediately. Her tibia was bent at an unnatural angle. Nausea surged through her stomach and she was ready to lose her lunch.
Having ridden the downhill ski lift, Gia came running over to her best friend. “Michellee! Are you okay?”
“No.” She was gritting her teeth and holding back tears.
“Don’t worry, miss”, Peter said. “I’ll help get you to the hospital.” He turned to Gia and asked, “Could you please give me a hand?”
“No problem.”
——
Michellee was brought back to Meepville via airlift.
Once she was admitted into the hospital, she was given a cast that she’d have to wear for the next six weeks. For the first couple of days, she had to stay in bed with her leg elevated.
The Maxwells stopped by whenever they could. Gia wasn’t too thrilled that their ski getaway was cut short, but she knew that Michellee needed the help.
Then Peter even stopped by to pay her a visit.
“Hello again, miss.”
“Oh! Peter!”
“How’s it you know my name?”
“We both go to Meepville U.”
“Oh yeah.” He was holding a vase of roses in his hands. “I wanted to…wish you a speedy recovery.”
She knew he meant well
But those flowers were a bad choice
They reminded her of
Her mother’s rabid voice
Putting that thought aside, she tries to make polite conversation. “Do you…like delivering mail?”
“Yeah. It gives me a chance to put my favorite hobby to good use.”
“Charming.”
“No offense, but you didn’t really seem like that much of a skier to me.”
“It was my first time.”
“Apparently.”
“I thought you were here to make me feel better.”
“That I am!” He places the vase on the table. “Well, if skiing’s not your thing, then what is?”
“Art.”
“Ooh! Then we do have something in common!”
“Really?”
“Yeah!” Peter removed his backpack and pulled out a black folder. “These are some pieces I’m working on. Wanna see them?”
“I’d be delighted.”
She flipped through the pages. For a newsie, he had a real eye for art. He mostly had charcoal art of faces, but that didn’t mean they weren’t fantastic.
“My, my. You’re a real muse, Paesano.”
“Thanks. I even have some finished work at my house.”
Then Gia walked in.
“Hey, Michellee. I brought you something.”
“Thank you, Gia.”
As she stepped closer, she took notice of Peter.
“Hello again.”
“Hi.” She didn’t look particularly happy to see him.
——
Six months later…
As soon as Michellee healed, she spent more and more time with Peter.
This didn’t sit well with Gia.
One night, when Michellee was dropped off back to the Maxwell house and she was greeting ready for bed, Gia was on the offensive.
“Do I mean nothing to you anymore?”
“What are you talking about, Gi?”
“You know what I’m talking about perfectly, Michellee.” Stupid name, she mutters to herself.
“It’s not a stupid name! My daddy gave it to me!”
“And just like him, you’re putting your needs ahead of others.”
“Don’t talk about my dad like that!”, Michellee screamed.
“Well I’m tired of you…” Gi clenched her fists and spazzed out.
“Tired of me what?”
“Spending time with Peter.”
“Really? Didn’t you push me into talking to him? You may as well pay my hospital bill!”
“Oh shut up! I didn’t think he’d actually reciprocate your feelings!” She paused. “You didn’t reciprocate mine”, she added in a quiet voice.
“Oh. I…can’t really say I’m surprised.” She stands up from her bed. “Since we’re getting things off our chests, I have something to say too. After graduation, I’ll be staying with Peter in the city.”
“What? Why?”
“Because…I’m…pregnant.” She puts her hands on her midriff.
“Are you serious?!”
“Yes.”
“That’s…” Michellee couldn’t tell if she wanted to say ‘terrible’ or ‘wonderful’. All she knew for herself was that, for this baby, she was for sure gonna keep it.
“If you want, you can be the godmother.”
“No. In fact, after graduation…I don’t any to see you anymore.”
“Gia!”
“Don’t feel sad. You have your lover. I’ll find mine too.”
Aww, man!
I loved those two as friends!
Oh, I’m on!
Out of Gia’s circle,
Michellee felt inflicted with a twinge of guilt
But her boyfriend and baby needed her
And her life was finally being rebuilt
——
Michellee and Peter were sitting pretty in their Meepville apartment. That was due to selling her latest art piece: a portrait of orchids.
At the end of her second weekmester, Michellee was all alone at home while Peter was out doing his rounds.
Then her world ended with that phone call.
“Excuse me, is this Michellee I’m speaking to?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Meepville General. It’s about Peter.”
Her heart dropped like a stone. “Oh, Seuss. What happened to him?”
“I’m afraid he’s passed on. He was found after falling through some thin ice. By the time he was found, we were too late. I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Michellee dropped the receiver and it dangled by its cord. She dropped down to the floor, clutching her baby bump.
“Now you’ll never know your father!” Her voice broke.
——
Taking what little possessions she had, Michellee moved out of her apartment to a small house in Glurfsburg. It was a safe little town, quite a distance away from both Snobbery Hills and Meepville.
That was where she gave birth to her daughter, Elanabeth.
Lying on the gurney, Michellee cried happily as she looked down at her little girl. She really took in her appearance; her red hair; the fiery tinge to her fur. Both of those were traits she shared with her father.
She brought her baby closer to her and kissed her forehead. “Oh, E.B. Mommy loves you so much. I promise that I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
——
Back in the present…
Instead of enjoying herself, Michellee was sitting in her bedroom, back at the manor she ran away from all those years ago.
Guy, please be okay, she pleaded to herself.
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