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#again thank u a lot!! this was very fun to write
bearsgrove · 1 year
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for the codex prompts <3 1 for wren & 11 for ravell xxx
thank u so much!!!! ♥ hope u are prepared for this being very long lol
OC Codex Prompts
an overheard conversation about your OC
The party has been trudging through the snow since dawn, trying to reach Stalwart before the day ends. Wren at the head of the company, sitting on their mighty brown bear, Edér and Aloth close behind and Sagani with Kana at the back. "Do you think they are alright?" Aloth turns to Edér after observing Wren for a good few minutes. "Huh?" "Our watcher." He nods towards Wren. "I think Wren is more resilient than you give them credit for." Edér says, half confused, half defensive. "I… Oh, I didn't mean that. I mean they are not dressed for this weather and we've been on the road for hours without a rest." Aloth quickly clarifies. He is shivering and hot clouds of breath leave his mouth with every word. Edér watches Wren for a while and then shifts his attention back to Aloth. "Think it's Arya. Keepin' 'em warm somehow. I heard of rangers from The White that Wends who share some kinda special bond with their companion, together they can last through some real rough weather over there." "Wren isn't from The White that Wends though. Actually, now I think about it, where is Wren from?" "I'm not sure. But you know, Aloth, you can ask them yourself." he pats the wizard on the back and nudges him forward. Aloth nearly trips and glares at his companion. "I know, I know. It's just that they are so quiet, I don't know anything about them… I thought maybe you two being so close and all, you would know more." "I don't know where they are from," he ignores Aloth's remark and then adds in a more serious tone, "and they seem like the sort of person who wants it to stay that way." "Fair." Aloth is quiet for a while, observing Wren, lost in thought. "And I agree." "What?" "With what you said earlier. They are resilient, regarding circumstances. I just… I hope we find the solution to all this. Having an awakened soul… takes its toll on a person. I mean, not like I know much about it, but we all saw Maerwald." "Yeah." The mood gets somber and the two stay silent for a long time.
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lavenoon · 9 months
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Birthday time!
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whole 24 years on this godforsaken planet! been having so much fun though the past couple months in this community, hope to continue that trend into this next year of living 💜
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boxwinebaddie · 14 days
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an uncle nina check in <3
hi team! thanks for sticking around! i know my blog isn't always the most exciting and enriching place in the world in terms of content, but i am very /content/ to have you all here. <3333
i promise, oddly enough, i have A TON of inspiration and ideas for all my weird styles ( if you're curious about anything please lmk! i've been trying to flesh out my aus out lately ), i've just been in a major bummer depression era lately, so it's hard for me to get my asks done and i'm having a hard time committing to finishing my writing. :<
i think it's because of stress and my bipolar, but i am trying to get back on the horse! ( are we all laughing at the idea of me trying to get on a horse? i'd start crying help city girl fail moment for me ) yeehaw!
and while, unfortunately due to the instability ( fabulous legendary iconery ) of my pretty girl popstar personality, i do not know whether i will be answering almost no questions or one million, regardless of that, i just wanted to let you know, i'm still here, still kicking my feet, twirling my hair, cooking...i'm just really trying not to force myself to put out anything i don't like...and only do what makes me truly happy.
however, nothing, my dear sweet e-darlings...
makes me happier than coming home to all of you. <333
so thank you for flooding even the darkest corners of my life with bright light, supporting my phantom fics and being wonderful,
uncle nina xx
#nina speaks#hi my loves#idk what the point of this was#i just know my blog is really inconsistent and i know i dont really post anything or anything that useful#but i wanted you to know that i love you very much and i still care a lot about all of you and all my content actually#which i have been fleshing out in notebooks and google docs i've been doing lots of world building and character study#so feel free to ask me something challenging about any part of my nina sp auniverse that interests u itll make my brain work#i've also been taking very silly but dilligent notes abt what ravesey style looks like for ter so if u want to laff at those u can#i just love taking notes on detail and understanding exactly what characters look like or what settings appear like idk#might be some experimental writing on here i like doing different mediums like i was being silly#and started writing a netflix trailer for rm haha i also have been doing weird personality tests and questionnaires#i've been trying to think very deeply about tkak and my tfbw styles if u have any questions there and am deep plotting rm#trying to be impactful while also keeping things fun and learning to enjoy myself again i suppose#so again thakn u for being here sorry its weird on here but thank u for supporting me as i learn and grow my sunshines#also ik i have a ton of asks and uve already asked me so many things so never feel inclined to message me#but i love hearing what ur curious about hopefully i can answer some stuff eventually but again im on a break#i'm here but i'm not this is a safe place we try and fail we have fun and promote style world domination thru my weird styles#ilysm i'm shutting up now i promise i'm still here i'm just trying to be healthy and happy esp rn when i am not emotionally well#gotta protect my peace and my vibe palace but im still here!#MWAH MWAH MWAAAAAH#really trying to heal my inner child or like the girl in me that liked to write silly stories and create crazy things#weird hcs big dramatic plots silly stuff...i want to honor that girl because she was happy and free and had fun#and i want to do that again so lets have fun guys#no judgement no seriousness just good vibes and good reads#welcome to the uncle nina learns to laugh again arc#i hope you enjoy it
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ohhgingersnaps · 11 months
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THIS CAME TO ME IN A DREAM (and by that i mean i was listening to set it off's partners in crime) supervillain au for wdstf. would it fit their characters, maybe not. would it be fun and hot and cool. Maybe.
Okay, so this is a phenomenal idea, thank you for providing me with such a fun sandbox to play in!! My brain immediately latched onto this and decided that I had to find a way to make it line up with canon. I’ve been rotating this in my mind for like six hours now
You’re right that Ava and Sebastian wouldn’t choose to become supervillains in the traditional sense, because they both try very hard to be good people, but also consider: The categorization of supers into “hero” or “villain” in WDSTF!verse is socially-constructed, and is less about whether they’re actually good people and more about like… Whether their vigilante activity is seen as “acceptable” by the general populace of Zuzu City. A lot of things factor into that (e.g. how much collateral damage is caused, who materially benefits, whether it’s pro bono, and— frankly— how the super in question chooses to present themselves to the public).
You’re also right that a villain AU would be fun and hot and cool :)
So! In light of the above, consider the following as a possible character-compliant WDSTF Supervillain AU Origin Story (below the cut because this became fic-length (1.5k)) (this is maybe not the fun exciting supervillain shenanigans you originally intended but it sets up the foundation for the shenanigans at least?) (cw: angst, fire, very brief mention of dissociation/panic attack):
Ava/Phoenix
After the JojaCo fire, Phoenix disappears, Ava quits her job, and she’s got two weeks where she’s lying around her house, fruitlessly applying for jobs, with no way to contact the only remaining member of her superhero support system (Memento). She’s burned out! She’s frustrated! She feels like a failure, she feels like she’s lost control, and she wants proof that she can do one thing right.
And she goes, Okay, you know what? I deserve to try doing a little hero work again, as a treat.
She patches up her suit and goes out on a solo patrol, and she sees a civilian, and she smiles and waves, in spite of how exhausted she feels, because that’s what she does. She’s used to the civilians waving back, but this one just goes tense and averts their eyes, hurring away.
They’re scared of me, she realizes, her heart sinking.
(She’s not exactly right. The public isn’t quite scared of her— not yet, at least— because she has a good reputation. What they are is wary. Fire is powerful and intimidating, and the JojaCo incident happened only a few weeks ago, and JojaCo’s smear campaign against her is relentless, mostly because they don’t want folks to start asking why they’re allowed to keep so much flammable material in their dumpsters. Memento’s trying his best to defend her, but there’s only so much he can do.)
Later that night, she finally does help stop some minor crime— she stops some guy from robbing a local corner store, or something— but when she calls the authorities in to collect the perp, they totally ignore the robber and try to arrest her, instead. She escapes, but she realizes that no matter what she does, she’s not going to be seen as a hero again.
She’s so burned out and exhausted, and the whole thing just strikes her as incredibly unfair. And she needs control, right now. She needs to prove she can do something right.
And, well, she does need a way to pay the rent.
You want me to be a villain so bad? she decides, hands prickling with heat as she looks over the city. Fine. Guess I’m a villain.
(Because if she’s choosing to be the villain, that means she has control over the situation. That means it was her choice, and that’s a lot easier for her to swallow than the idea that her actions don’t directly correlate to how she’s perceived or treated.)
She does try dabbling in work as a villain-aligned merc for a bit, but she still sticks to her usual set of principles— protecting civilians is a big one— so she ends up mostly working alone. She tries to operate in a way that results in minimal harm, only stealing from large corporations or rich folks who can afford it…
Working as a villain can be a lot more dangerous than working as a hero, though, and perception is everything, right? So she absolutely plays into the villain role and lets people think she’s a lot scarier and more ruthless than she is. (Think Megamind: Very into pretending he’s going to kill Metro Man and take over the city, but never has any intention of actually doing it.) She plays into the villain persona a little too well, and that’s how she accidentally ends up becoming a supervillain.
Sebastian/Memento
So that’s how Phoenix becomes a villain, but what about Memento? For this to work, we’ve gotta remember three things:
1) In addition to heroes and villains, there are also mercs, who are basically contract-work supers. They’re not categorized as heroes, since they’re paid directly for their work, but a lot of them are considered “hero-aligned” or “villain-aligned” because of the nature of the jobs they choose to accept or reject.
2) Memento started as a hero-aligned merc. This isn’t addressed in the main fic, but before the JojaCo fire, he does merc work as a side gig, in addition to his above-the-board freelancing jobs. (The general populace mostly ends up categorizing him as a hero because he does so much pro bono work with Phoenix lol)
3) Memento loves Phoenix.
So when he hears that Phoenix has finally reappeared, nearly a month after her disappearance, he immediately throws all of his effort into finding her and reestablishing contact. He doesn’t care if she’s a villain now— even if she is, she must have a good reason— but he doesn’t even really believe the rumors at first, because the Phoenix he knows isn’t capable of half of the things people say she’s done.
(He’s right not to believe most of the rumors. She’s really playing up the whole villain thing.)
Still, he wonders: If she’s back, why hasn’t she contacted me?
When he finally does catch up with her a few weeks later— in the middle of stealing something from a museum, of all places, and why is she stealing something from a museum?— he tries to talk to her over the PA system, like he did when they first met. He asks what she’s doing.
Phoenix immediately freezes, as soon as she recognizes his voice, then gets a distant look on her face that he hasn’t seen since right after the fire at the club. She’s panicking, her breathing going funny, and that’s when he realizes that at least some of the rumors were true. She really has become a villain.
She’s a villain, and she’s alone, and she’s terrified.
“You should leave,” she snaps, but her voice is shaky. She says should in a way that means, this is what ought to happen, instead of, this is what I want, and is that why she never reached out? Because she knew he’d disapprove? Because she thought he’d abandon her instead of trying to understand?
“I’m not going to do that.”
She throws her hands out. They catch fire. “Don’t you get it? I’m a villain; I’m a bad guy; I’m literally in the middle of robbing the Zuzu City Institute of Art and Antiquities!”
“Yeah, I get it,” he says, even though he doesn’t get why she’s doing it. “Still not leaving.”
She extinguishes her hands. For a minute, it looks like she might cry.
And then he asks: “Do you want help with the security system?”
They meet up, afterwards, at their geocache spot, under the tree on Amber Hill. What good is her civilian identity to her, now that she’s a villain, after all? They spend a very long time just standing there hugging each other, because spirits, they’ve missed each other so much. She cries into his shoulder. He cries into her shoulder a little bit, too.
She tells him everything, and she tries to explain things in a way that he’ll understand. In a way that he’ll accept. He still doesn’t understand, but he does accept it, because he loves her. She’s so convinced she’s a bad person for doing this, but he doesn’t believe that for a second. She’s a good person, so this has to be the right thing to do. Right? (Right?)
He promises to help her with her villain work, despite her protests, because he knows she won’t let anyone get hurt… Aside from maybe herself, that is, which means someone has to look after her. Someone has to support her, protect her, and keep her from self-destructing again. And if aligning himself with a supervillain is the only way for him keep Phoenix safe, it’s not even a question. He’ll do it in a heartbeat.
He holds Phoenix tightly in his arms, stroking her hair, and resolves to pick up some merc work on the side that specifically targets JojaCo. He kind of feels like they deserve it.
Besides, he’s a villain now, isn’t he? He’s allowed to be petty.
(That’s the excuse he’ll use if she ever asks him. The truth is, he doesn’t think he’s being petty at all— JojaCo ruined her life, and he wishes she'd burned it to the ground.)
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red-eft · 11 months
Note
15-21 for Iriskree!!
thank u for the ask !! yayy here he is :]
15. who is your oc's best friend?
hmhm... iriskree has some friends that he thinks are close to him, but they're not really that great. he actually can't name a best friend since he's not super close with anyone. he tries to ignore his loneliness.
i feel like he'd be good friends with bug, but bug is off doing her own thing in an entirely different country, so... the chances of them meeting are extremely low whsjwkdf
16. how does your oc feel about their parents?
guilty! iriskree survived the apocalypse and they died. i mean. he died during the apocalypse too, but he came back to life 300 years later. his parents are long gone. iriskree feels horrible knowing that the last time he spoke to them was just a quick, casual "goodbye" out the door on his way to work. rip.
17. how does your oc feel about their siblings?
he's an only child. drakonian families pre-apocalypse were usually very small since their species was rare at the time and there weren't enough resources to sustain a larger population (capitalist hellscape).
but if he had a sibling, iriskree would have loved them dearly. and then his heart would have been ripped to shreds after they died in the apocalypse. it's probably best that he never had a sibling ^^;
18. a memory that still makes your oc angry?
when iriskree realized he couldn't use magic, both before the apocalypse and afterwards even with magic running rampant.
it was the only dream he ever aspired to, but he'll never achieve it. he distracts himself from it by getting really good at other things. sometimes that isn't enough, though, and he'll resort to less ideal coping mechanisms.
19. a memory that still makes your oc sad?
re: his parents. iriskree feels utter despair when he thinks about that day. he doesn't know what they were doing when they died or if they were close enough to the origin point of the apocalypse to at least have a quick end. same coping strategy as described above- he'll try to distract himself as much as possible.
20. a nostalgic memory from your oc's childhood?
when his father passed down an old pocketknife to him. iriskree learned how to carve wood (and eventually his own scales) using it. it was in his pocket during the apocalypse and luckily for him, it stayed with him all those years. he still has it and looks back on the memory fondly.
21. hobbies your oc enjoys?
cooking for sure! he also enjoys carving things (especially his own scales) and people-watching.
i feel like he'd also enjoy embroidery? he has a passion for decorating himself n it's the perfect way for him to decorate his clothing/other items :>
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pussymasterdooku · 11 months
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#okay don’t ask me why but i can’t ramble in text posts. too much pressure. the blogging part of my blog occurs in the tags. who cares!#ANYWAY#i’m in like! a writing era again! it’s been so long since any creative writing flowed#(though i’ve been having fun w writing for my classes for Some Time Now!! but i haven’t been Inspired since my reddie smau#which i started pre covid and then covid happened like. it was doomed. anyway it’s been a While since i last wrote fic)#and as may be evident from my recent blogging i finally got into star wars in early 2022#and then i started thinking about a codywan necrocav Situation and that turned into something a LOT bigger#which is very much still in development it’s my baby#but it’s huge. definitely two full stories and they will not be short.#but i was making good progress on that and then i busted my fucking wrist#so it was kind of on hold#and then a single thought about a time travel story DID take hold of my entire consciousness#and i’m not posting ANYTHINGGGG until it’s Done Done so that i don’t fall into my brain traps when people read as i go lol#so it’ll be a while before any of this sees the light of day anyway#BUT i’ve now finished my fleshing out the shape of it document beginning to end which i’m now working on beating into a coherent outline#anyway that doc was 10.5k which is longer than all but one thing i’ve posted on ao3 LOL#but anyway. it’s happening and it’s special to write again it’s been SO long!!!!!#me turning up after a decade of not publishing anything to my ao3: hey guys who wants 200k of vaderwan time travel lol#me four years later when i finish the other story: and now 800k of whatever this monstrosity is#BUT ANYWAY IT’S FUN! THANK U TO ANYONE WHO READ THIS FAR LOL#that includes you future self who will definitely read these tags at some point. love u girl!!!! xoxo#a ten is blogging#bycbwg#uyaf#arhtbtad#(those r based on their working titles but for future sorting reasons)
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toruro · 1 year
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— ✧ the letter
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i hope one word, one letter, will laugh and cry with you (the letter / ateez)
pairing. xu minghao x reader
description. in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.
genres. slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l
tags. idol!au, alcohol consumption & underage drinking, lots of arguments, Lots of pent up emotions oops, miscommunication, sorta hot headed reader, minghao is minghao and that is a warning enough
fic playlist.
w/c. 26k
a/n. the smut has been moved to a separate post which can be found here! i had so so so much fun writing this! huge thanks to @gyuswhore bc em literally helped me through every step of the way & sat through me planning & switching around the events of the story a bajillion times, and thank u to @honeyhypen who read over this for me ^-^
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ENVELOPE
To: Xu Minghao
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“Why are you in my room?” Jun huffs, turning around to look up at you as you stand by his door. In front of him is a massive, yet unfinished LEGO replica of Hogwarts. You frown, glancing at his friend who lays on his bed with a phone up to his face.
He’s Jun’s new friend, and you’ve heard your brother talk about him but this is your first time really seeing Minghao in the flesh. Shaggy hair hangs loose over his dark eyes as he peeks over his phone and glances at Jun, as if to silently ask who you are.
“Dad says dinner is ready,” you tell him, feeling a little timid under the gaze of the new boy. He’s only two years older than you, but the only interaction you get with high schoolers is your brother, so you’re feeling shy. He’s a very nice looking boy, you think to yourself, but try hard not to stare as Minghao uncrosses his legs and sits up on your brother's bed.
Jun’s eyes soften when he notices you standing awkwardly, standing up and pointing at you as he says your name. “My sister—two years younger,” he explains.
“One point five, actually,” you correct him with a roll of your eyes, feeling more comfortable now that Jun is initiating something. Your brother laughs at you and ruffles your hair while Minghao stands up behind him.
“Ya-da, ya-da. You’re still two grades below, so it doesn’t really make a difference. Anyways, this is Minghao,” he says, pointing at his friend behind him who throws you a small smile and wave.
“I know,” you blurt out before you even have a chance to think, heat flushing to your face after you realize what you said and see Minghao give you a funny look. “I-I mean because Jun talks about you a lot,” you clarify, clearing your throat. “Y’know, he doesn’t have a lot of friends so when—”
Jun clamps a hand over your mouth and gently drags you out of the room as Minghao follows behind closely with silent laughter. “That’s enough from you. Watch it, or I’m never letting you talk to my friends again.”
“Friends? I think you mean friend,” you retort, looking back at Minghao who watches the two of you amusedly. “Are you sure you want to be friends with someone so mean to his sist—”
Jun flicks your forehead and you push his chest. “Shut up already! If you scare away all my friends, all I’ll have left is you, and you’ll just have to put up with me all day!”
“You’re right about that,” you say with a heavy sigh as you all make your way to the dinner table where your father has set out a meal for the three of you. Putting your hands up in defeat as you sit down at your spot at the middle end of the table, you glance at Minghao who takes a seat with Jun sitting between the two of you. “I guess I’ll back off for now.”
Jun scoffs. “You better.” The three of you laugh together.
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Yiren rummages through your closet, and you frown deeply. “Hey! You better clean that up,” you warn, rolling off of your bed and onto the floor, lazily standing up.
“I’m helping you pick out a nice outfit! You said Minghao is coming ri—” You scramble to your feet to slap a hand over Yiren’s mouth, eyes wide.
“Shut up! My brother’s room is right there—he might hear you!”
Yiren rolls her eyes, nudging your hand off her mouth with a huff. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t told him yet.”
“What?” you narrow your eyes at her, grabbing one of your bras that she threw onto the ground and stuffing it back into your closet. “You thought I was going to tell Jun that I have a crush on his best friend?” you half whisper, half yell.
“Uh, why wouldn’t you? You’re seriously missing out on your chance to have him help you get with Minghao.”
You scoff, looking down at all the clothes strewn across the floor. “Have you met my brother? He would flip if I even mentioned being with a guy, let alone that guy being two years older and his friend.”
“You don’t know that,” Yiren retorts, throwing herself onto your bed leaving you to clean up the mess she made.
“Yes I do. This is how I can tell you don’t have any brothers …”
“Well if you never make a move on Minghao, how are you ever going to get him? You gotta start somewhere, and maybe your brother is the first nut you gotta crack to get there.”
“If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly planned on making any moves,” you mumble, reaching down to pick up a cute pink jacket you haven’t seen in a while.
“Uh, why not?” Yiren piques, sitting upright on your mattress.
“Excuse me, have you looked at Minghao?” you groan, slumping against your wall with the jacket in your hands. “He’s so … cool, and popular, and handsome,” you gush, and Yiren makes a disgusted face.
“Uh, no, sorry I don’t fawn over your future husband, so I don’t really look at Minghao but—”
“And he’s going to be a senior! Why would a senior ever go for—” you look down and gesture at yourself, “—me.”
“You’re seriously downgrading yourself—you know you’re a catch.”
“Yeah, not for someone like him,” you snort, flopping down onto your bed next to her. “It’s whatever, it’s a stupid crush anyways.”
“Yeah,” Yiren says flatly. “You’ve only been crushing on him for like three years—hey! Don’t hit me!”
“Then stop saying this stuff,” you groan, throwing a pillow onto her head.
“Okay fine, I’ll stop. So are you going to wear that?” she asks, pointing at the jacket you left at the foot of your bed.
“Yeah, I think I will. It’s cute right?”
“Mhm … bet Minghao will totally like it and—”
“Yiren, shut up,” you giggle, pushing her again as you roll off the bed. “Okay, so the pink jacket and these jeans?” you ask, picking one pair off the ground and holding it up for her to see.
“Mm, no,” she says while shaking her head, standing up to join you as she looks at all of the clothes she threw across the floor. “Let’s see …” she hums to herself.
“Yiren,” you say with a laugh, “I think you’re putting more thought into this than me.”
“Well I can’t just let my best friend be single and lonely for the rest of her life! If all you do is sit around and listen to Radiohead, you’re going to end up being sixty-five and alone in some cottage in the woods.”
“Hey! That actually seems pretty peaceful,” you try to object, but Yiren narrows her eyes in your direction.
“Okay well,” she drawls out, putting her hands on your shoulders so you’re right in front of her, “Imagine being sixty-five and living in a cute cottage in the woods with Minghao. Sounds better, doesn’t it?” You can’t help the giddy grin that makes its way onto your face when Yiren says that, and she punches your shoulder lightly when she notices. “See, you do want that! So just listen to me, okay?”
“Okay, okay, fine! Just tell me which jeans to wear.”
She looks down, picking through the denim before pulling out a light blue one with little flowers embroidered on the pockets. “Look, this is cute. It’ll match with the jacket.”
You nod along, not questioning her because as far as you know, Yiren’s fashionable instinct stretches much further than yours and whatever she says about this must be true. As you change from your pajamas  into your new, curated outfit, Yiren sits back on the bed and grins widely.
“Looks perfect on you. Minghao will love it.”
“You think?” you pique, looking at her with bright, beaming eyes.
She winks at you and you jump up and down on the balls of your feet at the excitement. “I want at least 25% of whatever you get from your wedding gifts. You both will owe me big time.”
“I’ll believe it when it happens … Anyways, you ready to go? Let’s wait downstairs and get some pop while we wait for Minghao to come,” you suggest, Yiren agreeing with a nod as she bounces behind you. Jun, it seems, is still in his room waiting for his friend, so you stick your head through his door. “We’re going down to snack a little. Wanna come?”
Your brother shrugs, pushing himself off his swiveling chair to join you. “You know if we still have those cupcakes? The ones you made last week?”
“I think we have a few left. Why? You liked them?” you exclaim happily, turning around to face Jun as the three of you settle in the kitchen. You reach for a box you kept on the island, popping off the lid to show him.
Jun grins and pulls one out and you offer one to Yiren who stands beside you. “‘course I like them,” he says with his mouth stuffed with cake and cream.
Yiren, shooting a look of disgust his way, says, “Ew! Please don’t chew and talk, that’s gross.” Jun rolls his eyes at her as Yiren stuffs her own face with the cupcake, sighing as she digs in.
“Whatever,” Jun grumbles after swallowing it down. “They taste really good, you should make them more.”
Yiren nods, tapping your shoulder, “Agreed. Send me the recipe too,” voice muffled as she continues to munch down on the cupcake.
“Didn’t you just tell me not to eat with my mouth full?” Jun mutters, crossing his hands over his chest. You laugh at the banter and suddenly you hear the doorbell ring, ears perking up. “That’s probably Minghao—I’ll get the door.”
As your brother makes his way down to the foyer, you turn to look at Yiren. “I would give you the recipe but I don’t want to be the reason your house burns down. Seriously, remember the last time you tried baking and—”
“Oh my god, is the recipe what you’re thinking about right now? Minghao is just about to come—offer him a cupcake! Show him your amazing baking skills and show him what a good housewife you can be!”
You give your best friend a look of bewilderment. “What the hell Yiren,” you groan, slapping your hand on your face, trying to hold back your chuckles. “Okay, I’ll give it to him but only because I want him to be impressed. Not because I want to submit myself to misogyny for the sake of a man.”
“Okay fine but—look!” she exclaims in a hushed whisper. “He’s here!” You immediately straighten your back and smile when Jun walks back into the kitchen with Minghao. He’s wearing some loose jeans and a black hoodie, his hair longer than before.
He says your name when he sees you, throwing up a wave and a smile. Minghao then glances at Yiren with a blank stare, pursing his lips together. Yiren chuckles nervously and clicks her tongue while pointing at herself. “Yiren.”
“Ah. Hi Yiren,” he says politely.
“You guys want some pop?” Jun offers when he opens up the fridge. Yiren, Minghao, and you nod happily and respectively call out your choices.
“Sprite!”
“Cola!”
“Cola!”
Jun juts his lip out in a pout when he turns back to the three of you. “I wanted Cola too, but there’s only two left.” You’re about to furrow your brows and tell him that it’s okay, you don’t really want any, but Minghao speaks up before you.
“She can have the Cola, I don’t mind,” he says casually, grabbing one can from Jun and handing it to you with soft eyes. “Here.”
“Are you sure? I don’t really care for the difference between Sprite and Cola and—”
Minghao chuckles and shakes his head, and you think you might just pass out when your palm brushes against his knuckles when he eases the cold can into your hand. “Seriously, it’s fine,” he tells you. You glance at Jun and Yiren who are busy opening their own cans, turning your attention back to Minghao.
“Thank you … Uh, do you want a cupcake? I made some a while ago and we still have some left,” you offer, holding up the box to him.
“It’s the last one. Are you sure?”
“How the tables have turned,” you laugh, and Minghao cracks a bright smile at that and holy crap, if you weren’t so busy trying to keep your composure, you’d be freaking out over how handsome he looks when he smiles. “‘course you can have it. I’ve had plenty of them,” you admit sheepishly as he reaches for the cupcake and brings up to his mouth.
“Holy shit. I don’t blame you for eating a lot—if I had these in my house they’d be gone in like an hour.”
“Right!” Yiren agrees, and you can’t help but chew on your bottom lip when you smile from the praise.
“Guess this is just a sign for you to make more, huh,” Jun says, walking to stand next to you to lean on your shoulder.
“Uh-uh! You gotta reimburse me somehow,” you protest, looking up at your brother with a firm expression.
“Please make more, they’re really good. I’ll buy you boba if you make more,” Minghao chimes, and it’s safe to say you don’t expect it from the way you cough on your own saliva. Yiren laughs at your reaction, and Jun only looks at you weirdly when you nod in agreement.
“Oh, so you’ll make cupcakes when he asks but not for your dear older brother?”
You roll your eyes, saying, “He offered to buy me boba! You know I can’t turn that down.”
Jun huffs in faux irritation, digging his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys. “Ya-da, ya-da. Anyways, would anyone other than my super fake, mean, evil sister like to go to karaoke now?” he asks playfully. All it takes is one glare and pulling on his hair for a few seconds to have him shouting out apologies as the four of you make your way to the car garage.
The ride to the karaoke place is short with Jun in the front and Minghao sitting in the passenger seat next to him. You and Yiren pile into the back, and the three of you scroll through your phones to decide what songs to sing later while Jun drives.
“I get to sing Creep, right?” you ask excitedly, bouncing up and down in your seat.
“How’d I know you were going to bring up Radiohead,” Jun mutters, pressing his head back into the head rest when he stops at a red light, while Minghao turns in his seat to look back at you with wide eyes.
“You like Radiohead?” he asks with a small smile.
The corners of your lips are lifted and your face brightens when you nod vigorously. “Yeah I do!”
“I think ‘like’ would be an understatement. I’m like 99% sure Thom Yorke lives in her skin or something because what she has for Radiohead is a lot more than just ‘like,’” Yiren says.
“No way, I love Radiohead,” Minghao tells you. Holy shit. So Minghao is attractive and nice and smart and pretty much perfect at everything and he enjoys Radiohead? You might go insane.
“Really?” Your eyes are wide with your jaw hanging open, leaning forward in your seat.
You hear Jun groan from the driver’s seat, and both you and Minghao shoot him a dirty look. “I forgot both of you are obsessed with Radiohead. Seriously, could either of you get more emo?”
“If you weren’t driving right now, I’d strangle you,” Minghao says bluntly before looking back at you. “Anyways, what’s your favorite song?”
“Junnie, please, can you put on Creep now? You know I’ve been waiting forever,” you plead, holding your hand out to the microphone that’s in your brother’s hand. The room is dark and lit up with red and blue LEDs across the border, making the room glow purple.
“But I want to sing another round of Taylor Swift!” he protests, pointing at the big screen in front of you while clutching the microphone close to his chest. You scoff, poking his side. “You know I’m not ticklish, so that doesn’t work.”
“You’re not ticklish? How?” Yiren exclaims, looking at Jun with wide eyes.
You turn to squint at her. “He’s weird. I thought we already established this.”
“Hey!” Jun whines. “See this is why you won’t be getting to sing Creep tonight.”
“Jun!” you cry out, and you’re about to pull out a string of complaints and curses, but then Minghao is stepping in, pointing at you.
“Put on Creep. She’s been asking for a while and I want to sing it too,” he says. Jun is quiet for a moment before sighing and handing you the microphone which leads you to puffing up your chest and smiling proudly.
“Thanks,” you chirp gleefully, as Minghao holds his own microphone up to his lips.
When he smiles at you, it’s kind and sincere in such a way that it has your heart swelling under your pretty pink jacket. Minghao coolly points at Yiren who sits by the control tablet. “Creep. Hit it.”
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The air inside your house is warm as you skip down the hall and down the stairs. When the bell rang the first time, you thought it was just some package but when you hear it ring twice, you think otherwise.
When you peek through the little peep-hole, you jump up and down on the balls of your feet, a mix of excitement and nerves pools at your stomach. You open the door and Minghao shuffles in front of you at the doorstep. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, and his hair looks shorter. “Did you cut your hair?” you ask the seventeen year old as you move to the side so he can step in.
“Yeah, it was getting in my eyes too much,” he tells you with a nod, a small puff of vapor coming from his lips. It’s cold, and you hear him inhale a breath of relief when you close the door behind him. “Thought the door was never gonna open. I was freezing my ass off,” he says, unwinding the brown scarf from his neck.
“‘m sorry,” you reply sheepishly as he takes off his shoes, following you through the foyer. “Jun didn’t tell me you were coming so I was in my room. He’s still out with my dad, but he’ll be back soon.”
“That’s fine.” Minghao shrugs off his puffer jacket, placing it on the coat rack while you make your way to the kitchen.
“Do you want a drink? It’s cold outside, so I can make some hot chocolate. Jun got the nice kind from the cafe down the street.”
“That’d be great, thanks,” he says, sitting down at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island as you take out some milk and hot chocolate powder. It’s silent, and you chew your lip while thinking about how this is the first time in a really long time that you and Minghao have been alone together.
Nearing the end of his twelfth year in high school and just like the first time you met him, he’s as enticing as ever. Dancing competitions with Jun, left and right, smart and respectful with the teachers, popular among the students—you're lucky you get to talk to someone as cool as him, even if it is only on the account that you’re his best friend’s little sister.
“How’s high school?” he asks casually as you boil some milk over the stove.
“It’s alright … English is still hard as ever,” you admit, dropping the powder into the frothing milk.
Minghao chuckles softly when you turn around to face him, and a small smile makes its way onto your lips. “Yeah, it was never my strong suit either. You still friends with … what’s her name? Sorry, I’m not good with names—the girl who lost her voice at karaoke when she came with us?”
“Yiren?” you giggle softly, recalling the memory. “Yeah. Still friends, still as loud as ever,” you say with a sigh, mixing the milk as it turns light brown. “How are things with you? Jun’s been telling me the dance practices you guys have is pretty intense. He always looks like he could eat a horse when he comes home.”
“That’s good to hear, and yeah, it’s all going good. It is pretty tiring, but it’s a lot of fun,” Minghao replies, stretching his arms behind his back as you pour out the hot chocolate into two mugs, bringing it over. “Thanks,” he murmurs, grabbing from your hand sitting down at your regular spot, one extra chair seated between the two of you as always.
Arm’s length, you think for a moment, before shaking yourself of the thought. “I’m sure the practice is paying off though—seems like Jun is always talking about some new kinda competition or something.”
“Mhm,” Minghao hums, taking a sip of the hot cacao. “This is really good, thank you,” he says with a soft smile, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some sort of giddiness erupt in your stomach. “I think … I think we can really take it somewhere—our dancing.”
It’s a sparing thought that Minghao and Jun’s dreams are far beyond yours, and you have a bit of a difficult time trying to understand what he means by somewhere and if that somewhere includes you or not.
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“You’re going to Korea?” your eyebrows furrow as you glance between Jun and your parents.
“Nothing’s finalized yet—” your mother says, but when Jun’s eyes flicker between you and the ground, you already know that this is set in stone.
“Yes it is.” Your voice is small when the words come out. “You—” you take a deep breath, “—you’re going.”
“Not now, of course,” your dad says, patting your back as he stands up, your mother following suit. “Talk for a few minutes, yeah?” he says as both your parents walk out. When your whole family walked into your room ten minutes earlier to tell you they had big news, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not this.
And now you’re sitting with your brother on one end of your bed while you’re curled up against your pillows on the other, unable to meet his gaze.
“When are you going?” you ask quietly, finally breaking the silence.
“August.”
“That’s in a month and a half,” your shoulders deflate as you say it. “How long?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You bury your face in your hands in hopes that it’ll muffle your cries. It doesn’t.
Jun scoots over to you quickly when he sees your shoulders shake, one arm going around your back to pull you close to his body, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “How are you going to do it?” you blubber as your brother pats your back. “You can’t just go to a whole different country alone and—”
“I won’t be alone. Minghao is coming with me,” Jun tells you quickly. Now that brings your head up. You don’t care that your nose is snotty and that your hair is all over the place and that your face burns, you just need to see the look on Jun’s face to see that he isn’t messing with you.
The way his own eyes are glossy gives you your answer. “Y-you both got accepted into tha-that company?”
Jun nods. “We applied together.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were applying? I-I would’ve understood. You could have given me more time to process this and—” You look down at your hands, “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, not finding the words in your throat.
“We didn’t even know if we would get accepted. Me and Minghao promised each other that we’d only follow through with it if both of us got in and we didn’t think that there’d be a high chance of that because it’s so competitive … I only told Mom and Dad because until we got the acceptances, I really didn’t think it was going to actually happen.” You gulp at his words, trying to let it all sink in.
“I think … I think I just need to go on a walk. Take a breather, y’know,” you mutter under your breath as you stand up. Just as you're about to walk away, you stop yourself, looking back at Jun who stares down at his hands. You don’t think twice before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. “I’m really proud of you,” you say quietly before rushing out of your room and down the stairs.
You shove your feet into some slippers in the foyer, rushing out onto the street soon after. You aren’t sure what you’re doing or where you’re headed, but you continue to trudge along the sidewalk until you’re walking down the main road.
The summer air is hot and stuffy, and you wonder if you feel so suffocated because of the sun’s onslaught or because of thoughts that run through your head. It’s surrounding you, breathing it in, it fills your lungs, courses through your veins, rushes to your brain—you don’t know what it is, but it’s uncomfortable and has you dizzy and your vision foggy.
You lean against a thick lamppost next to you, hands on your knees as you knit your eyebrows together as sweat beads down your forehead. What the fuck, you think as you breathe in through your nose.
You hear your own name bounce around in your head, and the sound only grows louder and louder until you’re muttering under your breath, telling yourself to shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up. And there are tears in your eyes but you furiously wipe them away because while you don’t mind crying, you do mind crying if you don’t know why.
And fuck, there’s that voice again, your name echoing over and over again until it’s growing lowder and ringing in your ears. You think you might start crying again until the voice sounds familiar and you’re whipping your head up and standing straight when you see a car pull up to the curb next to you.
“Fuck my life,” you mumble to yourself when you see Minghao in the driver’s seat of the car. He rolls down the window and god, he looks so pretty with his hair back and upper body fit into a loose yellow shirt.
“Hey, what are you doing?” he asks you, brows pinched into a concerned expression as he looks at you, face flushed and sheen from sweat.
“I—” You’re about to smile at him and let the giddiness of having your crush talk to you take over, but then the words get caught in your throat when you remember the whole reason you’re out here. “—I’m just going on a walk.”
“In this heat?” He raises a brow at you. “Where to? Let me give you a ride. You don’t look too well.”
“Nowhere really,” you say with a shrug. “Actually, I might just head back home,” you rush out, turning on your heel to walk in the other direction so Minghao can’t pry any further, but he stops you.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he calls out, and you don’t have the willpower to ignore him. “Let me drive you home then. Seriously, you don’t look well—like you look like you’re ‘bout to pass out and shit—so just get in the car, please?” He says the last part with some sort of beggary etched onto his face and you just can’t deny him. Not now, not ever.
Pulling the door open, your limbs feel heavy as you climb into the car, air much cooler and fresher than outside. Leaning your head against the headrest, you let your eyes flutter shut as Minghao starts the car.
“Are you seriously okay? You look—”
“Sick, I know. I look sick,” your grumble, eyes still shut. You wonder if you should tell him Jun just told you everything.
“I’m sorry,” and you can tell from the way his voice doesn’t waver that he means it.
“Jun told me about Korea.”
“Oh.” Yeah, very big oh. “Just now?” You nod. “Is that why you were out here?” You nod again, finally opening your eyes.
“Hey, this isn’t the way to my house.”
Minghao keeps his eyes on the road. “C’mon, let’s get some pop,” he says, ignoring your statement and driving into the parking lot of a convenience store. He unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out his end, not saying a word, and you figure that you have no other choice but to follow.
Any other situation and you’d be grinning about spending some time alone with Minghao, but after hearing Jun tell you that he’s going to be traveling hundreds of miles and flying over borders within the next two months has your stomach churning in a way you don’t like.
You don’t know if you want to spend all the hours of the day with Jun and Minghao, or if you want to crawl up in your bed and pretend they don’t exist so it’ll hurt less when they’re gone. You feel stupid for thinking like this—you know it’s going to hurt either way.
You’re lost in your own thoughts as you walk into the store after Minghao, only snapped back into the present when he says something to you. “Hey, those are your jeans that you wore when we first did karaoke right?’
You blink once and then twice before looking down at your pants. They were those same jeans. “Yeah, how’d you know?” you ask him incredulously, and Minghao chuckles as he reaches into the cooler and pulls out a pink popsicle.
“I remember the flowers and how they matched your pink jacket. It was cute,” he says casually, and you hope he doesn’t catch onto the way your fingers twiddle together nervously and you avert your gaze. “Anyways, you like Cola right?” he clarifies when reaching into the drink fridge near the cooler. You nod shyly, thanking him quietly when he hands you a can.
As you make your way to the cash register, you fish around in your pockets for a few moments hoping you’ll dig up a dollar bill or something but then Minghao’s hand is on your wrist and he shakes his head with a smile.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover it.” He turns back so quickly you don’t have time to protest because he’s already sticking his card into the machine, throwing the cashier a thumbs up and walking out the store without a word.
“I could’ve paid for myself, y’know,” you grumble, following behind Minghao, watching to see where he’s headed. You think he’s going to get back into his car, but instead he plops down on the street curb, sitting on the ground. You just look at him for a few moments, contemplating what to do for a few moments before joining his side.
“Yeah, but I wanted to pay for it.”
The sun is bright and it beads down on you relentlessly, but you don’t complain. You both sit in silence as you both tend to your snacks—Minghao tries to lap up his popsicle quickly now that you’re out in the heat and you try to drink as much of your Cola as you can before it grows lukewarm. The air grows thick between you.
You can’t find the right words to say. You suppose there aren’t any right words or any wrong words, and that you can say just about anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.
Glancing at Minghao who takes a lick of his pink popsicle, you feel that uneasy feeling swarm inside of your chest.
You could kiss him right now. You could press your mouth against his sticky lips and lap at the sugar against his tongue. You could hold his face and run your fingers through his hair and cradle the nape of his neck. You could do anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.
Minghao, after all, was leaving.
But you’re scared and Minghao is mature and his dreams are big and he’s brave.
Your eyes linger on his plush lips for no longer than a second before you shamefully look down at the Cola in your hands, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.
“You’ll remember this place, right? Like—if you get big and famous and stuff, you two won’t forget, right?” you resort to asking. You say ‘this place,’ but really, you mean ‘me.’ You don’t want to be forgotten.
Minghao watches you with his eyes clouded with something you can’t really make out. “Of course we won’t. We’ll remember forever.” Absentmindedly, you trace figure-eights into the top of your can of pop, and Minghao catches the motion.
Using his own finger, he traces the figure of the number eight over the cement of the curb. “See. Like infinity, y’know?”
You purse your lips together and nod, your mind going dizzy. “Can we … can we go?” you mumble softly, gripping the can in your hand. “I think the heat kinda got to me.” It’s not entirely a lie.
Minghao doesn’t question you, polishing off his popsicle and tossing it into the trash before unlocking the door so you can take the silent ride home.
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Jun and Minghao flew out two months ago. You went with your family and Minghao’s family to bid goodbyes. It’s not like you wouldn’t see them again—give or take a few months and Jun would be back at home, but he’d have to leave again. And again. And again.
It’s sad, you think, as you slump against Yiren on some random person’s couch. You miss them so much, but when you think about Jun and Minghao, all you can see is the hard work they’ve put into going where they’re headed.
You feel selfish as you bring a cup up to your lips. You feel pathetic and lame and if you weren’t already drunk, you’d be wallowing in self pity as well. The alcohol tastes just as bitter as your feelings, and while you wince when you gulp it down, you don’t hesitate to let some more run down your throat.
Yiren watches you worriedly when you clutch her arm and shut your eyes tight. “I miss them,” you whisper, and she doesn’t know if you’re talking to her or to yourself. She strokes your hair and coos to you about taking you to lie down somewhere.
Your head spins as she helps you stand, letting the cup fall to the ground, not bothering to pick it up. Yiren pulls you into an empty bedroom and sits you on the bed. “Drink this,” she instructs, handing you a bottle of water.
“Yiren, I miss them,” you repeat yourself.
“I know, I know you do. Do you want to go home? I’ll drive you and—”
“No, you go have fun. I just need to sit down for a sec,” you tell her, letting your back fall onto the mattress. Yiren gives you a warning look, but you shoo her off. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She looks like she wants to protest, but you both know you’re on a one track mind right now.
“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Yiren begs as she walks away and closes the door behind her. You’re still dizzy, but not nearly as bad as before. Sitting up, you glance around the room. It’s simple—probably a guest room in whoever’s house this is. Also probably why the door was unlocked in the first place.
You feel you might pass out until your eyes land on an open notebook on a table in the corner of the room. You don’t think twice before standing up and ripping a sheet out, scrambling for a pen.
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DEAR MINGHAO
I’m drunk right now. I miss you and I miss Jun. I hope when you guys come back again, we can go to that karaoke place again and sing to Radiohead. I’ve expanded my taste you know—my favorite song is Fake Plastic Trees now, and I even got a record player just so I could play the vinyl for it. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.
When you come back, we should really go there again. Yiren’s been getting really tired of me singing Creep every time, so I need a new duo partner. And she’s leaving too, so there’s that.
I really want to kiss you right now, but you’re in Korea.
I miss Jun a lot too. I think I hate you for it. He’s my brother but somehow you get to see him more and talk to him more and be with him more. Sometimes I call him and it’s for less than five minutes and I hear your voice in the background and I don’t know if I want to listen to you speak forever or strangle you so you can never talk again. I get that Jun is busy, and that you’re busy, but you guys get to be busy together.
Yiren told me she’s probably going to go to college out of the country next year. I’m going to miss her like hell. I think I already miss her, and so I drag her to karaoke with me so she won’t ever forget about me and Radiohead and how garbage I am at singing Creep.
Jun says he’s going to come visit home in two months, and that you might come along. I didn’t know home was a place you only visit, but I guess being an idol changes you. I probably sound super bitter right now. I’m not. Maybe I’m upset that you guys are gone, but I really am happy for you.Jun is happy, and you’re happy, and I’m so happy you have each other.
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It’s hard to focus on your exam—halfway through your degree and you still get the jitters every time you step into the testing hall. It’s probably the nerves. And the caffeine. And the fact that you’ll be seeing your brother and Minghao in three hours.
It’s mainly the third that has your leg bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you jot down your answers. The exam takes longer than you’d like to finish, but as soon as you’ve finished the final question, you’re bolting out of the large room and toward the parking lot.
Connecting your phone to your car, you call Jun as you back out of the parking spot. “Hey, you guys at the airport?” you ask when you hear him pick up.
“Yeah, we’re just getting out right now but there’s kind of a crowd so it might take a while to just get to the car.”
“I forgot you guys are, like, famous,” you mutter jokingly. “Where’re you headed first? Minghao’s place first?”
“Yeah probably. He’s gonna see his parents and stuff first and then I’ll go to Mom and Dad’s house, so you can just come there.”
“Okay … we’re still good for our dinner plans, right?”
“Yeah, actually I was wondering if Minghao could tag along,” Jun says, and you can hear some muffled shouting from the other side.
“Oh okay, yeah su—”
“Hey, look, there’s a lot of people here and I can’t hear much so just text me your response and I’ll get to you in a second,” Jun tells you quickly as the shouting grows louder. He hangs up soon after and you sigh heavily as you start driving to your parents house.
The ride is quiet but you’re happy to be met with gleeful parents when you get to their place. You’re all a bit spirited at the prospect of Jun coming home, so when you hear the old ringing of the door bell, you’re bolting to the door and swinging it open, jumping into his arms.
“What happened to ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” Jun teases as he hugs you close, awkwardly trying to shuffle into the house. You poke your tongue out at him when you finally unwind your arms from around him.
“Hi. Hello. How are you? You seem obnoxious, as always,” you shoot back, and Jun only grins, pinching your cheek tightly.
“Oh how I missed my little insane sister,” he says before moving onto your parents, enveloping them in hugs as you all begin to settle down in the living room. The four of you spend a few hours catching up with Jun before he excuses himself to freshen up so he can get ready for your plans for the evening.
When he comes back all ready, you’re pulling out your keys from your purse and waving bye to your parents, promising them you’ll stop by the next morning as you and your brother make your way to the door.
“See you later!” Jun calls out before closing the front door behind him and following you to your car. Minghao’s house is close by, no more than a five minute drive, and it’s quiet as you take the familiar roads through the town to get there.
“Should we go in?” you ask when you park in Minghao’s driveway. “You haven’t seen his parents in a while, have you?”
“Oh yeah, you’re right. C’mon, let’s go.” You both slip out of the car and make your way to the front door. Minghao’s mother opens the door and you spend a few minutes exchanging greetings and catching up before Minghao is stepping out, clad in some black jeans and a grey hoodie.
He smiles when he sees you, pulling you into a hug, giving you a chance to feel the slightly damp hair against your cheek and the woody smell that always reminds you of him. “Hey, how’s it been?” he asks when he pulls away.
“I-I’m good,” you say shyly.
“Let’s talk more in the car, yeah?” Jun suggests, turning back to Minghao’s parents to give them a hug before you all wave your goodbyes and get into your car.
“Where’re we headed?” Jun asks, as you back out of the driveway. Jun sits in the passenger seat while Minghao slips into the back.
“It’s this new place—opened just a few months ago so I doubt you’d have gone there yet,” you tell him as you start driving.
“Is it the place next to the cafe?” Minghao asks you, and you nod excitedly.
“Yeah … how’d you know?”
“My mom told me about it, and said I should try it out. I guess now’s my chance, huh.”
“Yeah! It’s really good, I hope you both like it,” you say, reaching over to the AUX controls to flick on one of your playlists. “Okay guys … are you ready?” you warn, watching Minghao’s eyes brighten through the mirror.
“Oh my god, don’t tell me you guys are going to sign Creep again—” Jun starts to groan, but you reach over and press a finger over his lips to shut him up.
“Quiet,” Minghao hisses to his friend, scooting forward in his seat so you’re in his view, placing his hands under your headrest. His fingers brush against the back of your neck and you’re scared you might crash the car from the way his touch makes you shiver. Fuck, more than half a damn decade and you still can’t fight it off. “Turn it up,” he instructs from behind, and you can only grin as you reach over and pump up the volume.
The deep rumble of snare and guitar echoes through the car as the song starts and you already feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. So when the first lines of, ‘when you were here before,’ leave your lips, you aren’t sure if you feel your heart mending itself, or if it’s salt being poured on the wound.
Because from behind you is Minghao’s voice, so deep and velvety and angelic it has you almost in a trance. He’s been good at singing, always, but now his voice sounds … mature, and developed and … and you love it.
You think back to the first time you sang Creep with him, and the lyrics already have you reminiscing when you both sing, ‘couldn’t look you in the eye,’ because goddammit you still struggle to look at Minghao for too long because you’re scared you’ll get lost.
And when it gets to the part before the bass is blaring in your ears, Minghao and you are singing, ‘I wish I was special, you’re so fuckin’ special,’ at the top of your lungs and you can’t help but let the irony sink in.
Now you’re pretty sure when Thom wrote Creep, he didn’t mean it to be about your love life, especially not the non-existent one between you and your brother’s best friend, but Thom is speaking to you right now, and you wonder if Minghao can hear the way you’re singing from your heart. How you’re singing for him.
When the song comes to an end, Minghao’s fingers brush over the nape of your neck one last time before he retreats back into his seat. You try to not mull on the feeling any longer, shaking your head of all of those thoughts when you near the restaurant.
“Here it is!” you chirp, parking the car on the curb. The three of you shuffle out of the car casually, making your way to the entrance.
“Looks nice,” Minghao comments as he opens the door for you and Jun. Your brother hops in merrily and you and Minghao both share a soft smile as you go inside too, your body nearly jerking when you feel his hand on the small of your back as he follows behind you.
His touch is warm and gentle and—fuck, does he know what he’s doing to you right now?
You’re more relieved than anything when he finally lets his arm drop, the three of you making your way to the table you booked. You were scared that if Minghao stayed close any longer, he’d be able to feel your heart beating through your chest.
You guys sit down at the table, Jun next to you while Minghao settles across the two of you. “So how’s your classes going?” he asks you as you look through the menu. “Jun said you had an exam today, right?”
“Yeah, it was my final one,” you tell him with a sigh of relief. “It was stressful preparing for it but it went better than I thought.”
“Good to hear,” Minghao says as a waiter comes along to pick up on your orders. After he leaves, Jun turns to you.
“What’s Yiren up to?” Jun asks you curiously. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.”
“She’s, uh, she’s good,” you reply. “I haven’t seen her in a while either … she went off to college in Korea, remember?”
Minghao chuckles, “Seems like everyone’s going there, huh? Maybe you should pull up too.”
You scrunch up your face and shake your head while you take a sip of water. “I think I like this place too much to leave. Plus, who’s going to take care of our old folks if I leave too?” you tease, nudging your brother in the side.
“Mom and Dad can take care of themselves just fine,” Jun shrugs, ruffling your hair as the waiter brings along some food.
“Looks good,” Minghao says, holding up some chopsticks as you all look down at the sizzling dishes in front of you.
“It is! See?” you say pointedly, looking up at Jun. “Imagine I moved to Korea—I wouldn’t be able to eat this.” Your brother only rolls his eyes and Minghao and you laugh together while you dig in.
As you work through your meal and catch each other up on your lives, Minghao eventually leans back in his seat and sighs heavily. “I’m really craving something sweet right now.”
“I’d say we should pick up some pastries from the cafe next door but they closed two hours ago,” you say sadly.
“Oh shit, I forgot about that place. They made the best chocolate buns ever,” Jun mutters to himself, polishing off his plate.
“Let’s go to the cafe tomorrow evening, yeah?” Minghao suggests as he takes a sip of water. At the suggestion, you chew at your lip.
“Uh, I don’t think I can go then,” you say, hoping they won’t pry any further.
Of course, your brother doesn’t allow you a second of peace. “Why not? Your last exam was today, right?”
“Yeah, but I have stuff to do,” you reply nonchalantly. Jun scoffs and tugs your ear, causing you to whine. “What was that for?!”
“You didn’t clear your schedule out for me? I thought you missed me! You know I have to leave in like a week,” he complains, and you and Minghao share an amused look as you nudge Jun on the side.
“Relax, you can have me in the morning and afternoon and everything … I just have to go somewhere for the evening.”
“You’re being really ominous about this, you know,” Jun retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where’re you going?”
You chew on your tongue, contemplating if this is the right moment to bring it up, or if you should even tell Jun and Minghao this at all. “I just have to see someone.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Jun groans. “You’re literally asking me to pry. Tell me who—a boyfriend?” You chuckle nervously, eyes flickering between Minghao and your brother, shaking your head.
“No—not a boyfriend,” you say dryly, scoffing at the irony. “Remember Renjun? I told you about him when I was in freshman year.”
“Vaguely. Remind me who he is again?”
“He’s just a guy, and he has some of my stuff I need to pick up.” Both Minghao and Jun cock an eyebrow at you after that. “What?” you huff, leaning back in your seat.
“An ex?” Minghao asks and your face burns.
“I—yeah,” you say casually. “An ex.”
Jun frowns deeply. “I didn’t know you and Renjun ever dated. I didn’t even know you ever had a boyfriend,” he says, voice evidently upset that he was left out of this.
“It wasn’t that serious,” you pat his shoulder as to soften the blow. “Plus it happened when you were on tour—we hardly talked then.”
“Still! You could’ve told me!” You bite back a, ‘But could I really?’ because this isn’t the time or place for that.
“It’s whatever. I just need to pick up some stuff I left at his place and—”
“So it ended pretty recently then?” Minghao piques, and your eyebrows furrow, slightly annoyed by both of their belated interest in your love life.
“What, no! It’s been months and—wait, I don’t see how that’s any of your guys’ business,” you huff and Minghao backs off a little, but Jun still stays curiously leaning in.
“Whatever. You’ll be available to come with us to the lake on Friday though, right?” Jun asks, pulling out his phone and holding it up to your face to show you a picture of a lake house. “I booked a place to stay the night and all.”
“Of course I’m going to come—I’ve been looking forward to it!”
“Good,” Jun says gruffly, still somewhat glaring at you.
You give him a funny look. “What?”
“I’m still mad you never told me—you’re supposed to tell me this stuff! How else am I supposed to know that you’re doing fine on your own and actually growing up.”
“Oh my god, Jun, I’m an adult! Did you think I would never have boyfriends?”
“No! At least not without telling me!”
You chuckle and Minghao follows in suit, enjoying the little sibling bicker. “Okay fine. I’m sure I’ll be telling you every detail of my love life when it gets resurrected.”
Minghao snorts at your use of words, and you revel in the way the sound makes you feel. Fuck it, it’s been more than half a decade and you still get butterflies—you can’t fight away the feeling, so you might as well wallow in it.
You wonder what Jun would think about this—your love life being pulled and shaken by his own best friend. Oh well, some secrets are best kept hidden anyways.
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“Here’s your stuff,” Renjun says softly, handing you a paper bag that’s stuffed with a wide array of your belongings.
“Thank you. Is my pink jacket in there? I’ve been looking for it for a while and I didn’t know if I left it at yours,” you ask timidly, holding the paper bag close to your chest.
He scratches the back of his head as he steps back, nodding. “Uh, yeah I think it’s at the bottom.” You peer down at the contents of your back, and give a half smile when you see the pink cloth peeking out from underneath.
“Thanks for taking care of my stuff. I know you’ve basically moved out and all.”
“No worries. Do you, uh, need a ride home or anything? It’s pretty cold.”
You purse your lips at the offer, but shake your head. “It’s fine …” There’s an awkward silence and you quickly wonder if you should say anything more. Renjun looks awfully … apologetic right now and you feel there’s some more you can say. “How’s your new place? Have you seen it?”
“Yeah, I flew up there a few weeks back to get some of my main stuff shipped. A nice apartment, way bigger than whatever I had here,” he says with an awkward chuckle. You appreciate the effort.
Nodding, you tighten your grip on the bag. “That’s good to hear. I hope it all goes well with you. I … I think I’ll be taking my leave now. My brother’s back in town so …”
“Oh yeah, I heard from Jianing. Hope you’re having a good time—I know you haven’t seen him in ages.”
“Thank you. Anyways, I’m gonna get going now. Thanks again,” you say as you step back, throwing out a small wave.
A half-hearted, “See you,” leaves Renjun’s lips as you turn on your heel and start walking back to the bus station. There’s no promise of seeing Renjun later, or ever again, and something cold sinks in your stomach at the thought.
The thought that this all could’ve been avoided if Renjun hadn’t gotten that stupid job offer hundreds of miles away. If he didn’t decide to pack his bags and fly away just like Jun, like Yiren, like Minghao. Renjun was leaving, just like everyone else.
You clutch the paper bag close to your chest as you make your way to the bus stop, one hand fumbling in the pocket of your jacket as you search for your wallet and within seconds you’re a frantic mess. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Shit, shit, shit!” you cry out when you drop your bag and pat frantically over your pockets to try and feel for your wallet.
Your digging into every crook of the coat and there’s a growing feeling of dread that washes over you once you realize that you lost your fucking wallet. Hands clenched at your side, you feel hot tears well up in your lash line as you stare down at the ground, letting in the shitty events of today sink in.
You don’t even know why you’re crying now. It’s hardly even cries, really, you’re downright sobbing as you plop down on the curb of the empty street, fumbling with your phone as you pull up Jun’s contact. Pressing the phone to your ear, you shut your eyes tight in an attempt to calm down your breath, but when you hear the line go dead you cry even harder, realizing that Jun is probably napping right now.
“Fuck my life,” you complain to yourself, letting your head hang low as you scroll through your phone. You aren’t even sure what compels you to click on him but before you know it you’re on speaker as you hear the buzzing of the phone as you wait for Minghao to pick up.
One ring. Maybe he’s busy.
Two rings. He might be looking for his phone.
Three rings. He probably won’t pick up.
Four rings, and you’re about to hang up but then it stops. “Minghao?”
Minghao’s voice is cool and calm when he says your name. “Do you—”
“I need your help,” you say so quietly you aren’t sure if he’ll be able to hear it. And then Minghao hears it: your soft pants and shaky breath and something about the sound has him squeezing his phone tightly.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m—” No, I feel like shit and I’m freezing my ass off and it’s so cold and I need you to help me. “Can you pick me up? I lost my wallet which has my bus card. I’m sorry, I know it’s a little late and you’re probably busy but—”
“Send me your location.”
Minghao is pulling up in his black car within twenty minutes and by then you’ve had enough time to wipe the tears from your face and piece together yourself to look presentable. Rolling down the windows as you wave over to his car, you hear the doors click and you’re roughly yanking on the door and throwing your stuff and yourself in.
Minghao raises a brow at your ruckus, asking once again, “Are you okay?” When you only sigh heavily, buckling yourself up, you hope Minghao will just leave it alone. You’d rather not talk about the stupid breakdown you just had in front of your childhood crush.
Minghao clearly doesn’t get the message, so when he starts the engine again, he murmurs, “Have you been crying?” You purse your lips together tightly as if the question itself as the tears bubbling up to the surface once again. “Did meeting with Renjun not go well?” You’re surprised he remembers his name—Minghao was never great with names. “Can you say something? I’m worried.”
“Sorry,” you say softly, letting your shoulder drop down, and from the corner of your vision you see Minghao watching you carefully. “I-I just got overwhelmed. And it was cold. Really cold. And then—” You take a shaky breath. “—and I lost my fucking wallet on top of it and it’s all so shitty and—”
His hand is on your shoulder and you hardly realize that Minghao has pulled over and parked so he can turn to face you. You’re crying again and you don’t even know how this fucking happened, all you know is that there’s so much going on in your head and Minghao is right there, he’s so close but then again, he’s so far.
“Hey, hey calm down for a sec’,” he says calmly, gripping your arm firmly. “Breathe slowly, and tell me what happened.”
You inhale sharply through your nose and scrunch your face up as you bury your head in your hands. In your right mind, you wouldn’t even think about telling Minghao about what’s on your mind but it’s been a really terrible past hour and you can’t control yourself.
“Renjun’s leaving. Didn’t want to do long distance and so he’s gone and—fuck, I don’t even blame him but why’d he have to leave,” you ramble, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as Minghao pats your back gently.
“Did he say something to you when you met with him?” he asked, tone laced with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m just—are you o—okay please don’t cry.”
You don’t know why, but Minghao telling you to cry only makes the tears fall faster. “And Yiren—” you hiccup, “Yiren left too, I haven’t seen her in months and Jun a-a-and you—you’ve all been gone.” You don’t realize when Minghao grabs both your shoulders and forces you to face him completely.
“Slow down, please. No one’s left you, we’re all going to be here for you, you know that. Did Renjun say something which made you think like this?” he asks, the grip on your shaking shoulders growing tighter as you desperately try to steady yourself.
“N-no, but you’re not here. I hardly ever get to see my own brother and Yiren and you and Renjun and everything is so shitty I just—” you cry out and suddenly you stumble forward in the seat and before you know it Minghao’s arms are around you.
It’s not like you haven’t hugged him before but this is the first time you’re blubbering into his shoulder about your feelings, and if you weren’t so sad, you’d be fucking appalled. His warm hand is on your back, rubbing up and down slowly until you’ve finally found the conscience to actually breathe and realize just what’s going on.
Slowly, you pull away from Minghao’s hold, furiously wiping away at your face to dry yourself, looking down at your lap bashfully. “I am so sorry, what the fuck, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you blurt out when Minghao drops his hands from your shoulder. You miss the warmth, but you’re quite very embarrassed with yourself and don’t have the will to chase after his touch.
“Please don’t apologize,” Minghao replies softly, watching you with wide eyes. “That … was a lot and—”
“I’m sorry, look, I was just having a shitty day and it all piled up and you just—I don’t know I guess, let’s just pretend this never happened,” you beg with him. Minghao’s face looks like he wants to say more, but you really can’t tell with the way his eyes are clouded.
“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me.”
You gulp at the irony. No, you really can’t. You can’t tell Minghao anything, really, because even after crying and sobbing and wailing in his car he still looks at you with so much care and it has these stupid fucking butterflies erupting in your stomach like you’re fifiteen with a massive crush on your brother’s best friend.
“Can you just please drive me to my place?” you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I think I just really need to sleep.”
You can tell Minghao still has questions, but you don’t seem too willing to answer them so he doesn’t say anything when he nods and turns back to the road. The ride is silent, and when he finally parks he pats your shoulder.
You look out the window and furrow your eyebrows. “This isn’t my apartment complex …” you tell him, confused as you see a convenience store in front of you. The same one.
“C’mon, I know you love pop,” he says casually, unbuckling his seatbelt leaving you with no other choice to follow behind him. There’s an odd sense of deja vu that envelopes over you, shoving your pockets into your jacket shyly.
“Remember the last time we were here?” Minghao asks with a chuckle as you guys walk into the store.
“Don’t remind me,” you murmur. “That was a shitty day.”
Minghao gives you a nervous smile as he pulls out a can from the fridge and hands it to you, grabbing his own bottle as well. “Yeah, but Cola made it better, right?”
“I guess it did. Cola always makes things better,” you admit. “Hey, fuck you,” you say jokingly when Minghao pulls out his wallet. “You should’ve taken me here another time when I actually had my wallet—I need to pay you back for that day!” you whine with a pout. “Now I’m in debt to you twice! You’ve bought me two Colas!”
Minghao rolls his eyes playfully as he pays for the drinks. “Yeah well things are different now, and I’m pretty sure my wallet doesn’t care about the cost of two Colas.”
“Is Mr. Big and Famous too good for my money now?” you huff when you step back outside, opening your Cola. “I will pay you back, no matter how stupidly rich you get.”
“I’ll have to hold you to that,” Minghao laughs as you slip back into his car. The air is lighter as he drives you back to your place for real this time, and the lingering feeling of pop on your tongue is sweet and fun.
“Thank you for the ride. And the Cola,” you add when he’s in front of your building.
“You remember what I said?”
You nod as you step out of the car, picking up your brown bag. “Thank you so much for this. I’m sorry again.”
“Stop apologizing. Is there … is there anything else I can do? You want another Cola perhaps?”
“Very funny, but I don’t think I want to be jumping off the walls tonight …” you answer, closing the door but still peering through the open window. You think for a second as you chew your lip, nodding when you come up with something. “But do me a favor … don’t tell Jun.”
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Jun takes you out to the lake house he booked three mornings after you met with Renjun and sobbed to Minghao in his car. It’s a refreshing turn of events, if you’re being honest, and you’re eager to sink into a relaxing weekend after a stressful exam season.
Your brother drives the three hours on the way with the promise of you driving on the way home hung over your head. When you reach the house—a medium sized cabin perched right by the lake and surrounded by trees and mountains—you’re greeted with the sight of Minghao sitting in his car and scrolling on his phone.
As you and Jun pile out of the car and grab your bags, Minghao comes out too, walking toward you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Thought you guys would never come. If you were gonna be late you should’ve just given me the keys to this place,” he says with a huff.
“Don’t blame me,” Jun shrugs, locking the car after you’ve both taken out your stuff, walking up to the cabin’s entrance. “She’s the one who wanted to stop and buy some pop.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t want it either,” you retort, reaching into your tote bag to hand Minghao a can of Cola. “Here,” you offer with a smile which he returns gleefully.
“Okay actually, totally valid reason,” Minghao says, flicking open the can before taking a sip.
“Hey! Don’t be on her side,” Jun whines as he opens up the cabin. Minghao and you chuckle together, your heart warming at the sound as you three start to load your things into the house. Minghao doesn’t say anything about that night when he picked you up, and for that much you’re grateful. This much, you can manage.
By the time you all have settled your things into your respective rooms it’s noon and the sun pummels down with admirable strength. As you stick your head out of your room, you catch Jun making his way down the hallway toward the bathroom.
“You going for a swim?” you ask, gesturing down to your swimsuit that you’ve already eagerly put on.
“Nah, I’m gonna go later. I need to take a call right now,” he says with a sigh and you nod, about to retreat back to your room before Minghao walks out of his own room.
“I’ll go if you’re going,” Minghao tells you casually, and you don’t waste a second to nod. “Give me five so I can get changed and then we can go out.”
You jump down the hall excitedly after he closes the door behind him, making your way to the backyard porch which leads into a deck over the lake. As you place your towel on one of the chairs outside, you hear the sliding door open.
Minghao walks out shirtless, lower half only covered with his swim trunks as he runs a hand through his shaggy hair, shaking his head lightly as he makes his way towards you, placing his towel next to yours. “Thanks for waiting … shit, it’s hot as hell,” he murmurs, and you’re thankful that you’re facing away from him right now—you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle the proximity and the sight of his bare upper body.
“Yeah,” you agree, finally straightening your back and putting some distance between the two of you when you start walking towards the edge of the deck. “The water’s so clear,” you think out loud, looking down at the blue lake in front of you.
“It’s really pretty … you want a picture?” Minghao suggests, walking up behind you.
“I would, but I left my phone inside.”
“Let’s just take it on my phone,” he says casually, holding up his phone in front of you, waving at you to step back a little so he can take a picture. “A candid one would look pretty with this view—like you’re looking out at the lake and stuff,” he begins to say, placing a smooth hand on your shoulder so he can manually turn you around so that you’re facing away from him.
When he lets his hand drop, it brushes over the curve of your hip and you have to bite down on your lip to stop the pathetic whimper that threatens to escape your lips. Luckily, Minghao can’t see the pained expression that makes its way onto your face as he steps back holding up his phone.
“Okay ready …” he calls out from further behind. “Three … two … one!” You hear a faint tapping sound as you still, letting Minghao take the pictures as you wait patiently. It takes a few moments, and you’re about to ask him how much longer he’s going to go at it before you hear the sound of something being dropped, and then a few rattling thuds.
“Minghao, what—” you begin to question as you slowly turn on your heel but by then it’s too late. “WHAT THE F—”
Your scream is cut off short when Minghao runs forward and lunges at you, one arm wrapping itself around your waist as he jumps into the water, bringing you down with him. The cool water of the lake hits your body and the wind gets punched out of your lungs as you feel your limbs entangle with his. Instinctevely, your arms tighten around one of his as your eyes press closed tightly as you feel your warm body start to level with the temperature around you.
And so even as your legs kick around for a few panicked moments, you begin to feel oddly at peace when your head finally reaches the surface of the water, Minghao’s hand still steady over your hips as you gasp for air.
“You’re a bitch for that,” you say, a few choked giggles escaping your lips as you do. Minghao finally unwinds his arm from yours, and while you miss the contact, his body is still dangerously close to yours, and you figure that that is already more than you can manage.
Minghao smiles gleefully, pushing his face so close that it’s right up in front of you. “Mm maybe, but it was really funny. Got it on video too.”
“What?!” you screech, swimming backward so quickly that you hit  your head on the wooden platform of the deck. “Crap!” you exclaim, hand immediately flying up to press against the throbbing crown of your head. Minghao’s eyes widen with concern as he wades his way towards you, tall enough to still have his feet touch the lake bottom unlike you.
“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asks worriedly, his own hand coming up to feel the back of your head. His eyes are big and brown as he looks down at you, and for this moment, you forget about the dull ache and bask in the way the sun hits his skin so perfectly he glows.
“I’m fine!” you squeak quickly, letting your hand drop so you can tread in the water lightly, slowly moving a safe distance away from the deck.
“A-are you sure?” he probes, making his way to you, and you have a moment to admire him from afar—the way his hair is matted against his forehead and water drops gather at his lashes, making his eyes look prettier than ever.
You chuckle at the way his lips are pursed together apologetically, and you splash some water at him to lighten the mood. “Yes, Minghao, I’m great. I hardly hit myself.” Minghao’s face looks uneasy, and you laugh again.
It takes a few more minutes of you trying to convince him that you’re totally fine before he finally lets it go. Eventually, you find yourself on a big inflated duck-shaped floaty, laying down with your face up and eyes closed. You lose track of time, enjoying the white noise of Minghao splashing around in the water around you, drifting off into a hazy state until you hear a loud yell and feel yourself being flipped over and off your floaty.
“Jun!” you whine, rubbing your eyes as you furiously push hair off your face when you resurface, glaring at both Jun and Minghao laugh side by side. “You guys have to stop doing this to me,” you groan, eyes finally adjusting to its normal state.
“What are you talking about?” Jun asks innocently as you make your way over to the two of them, not bothering to turn your duck floatie back up right. “It was just an accident I fell on you—hey!” he yells out when you lunge at him. Minghao steps back quickly as you and Jun waddle and fight in the water, splashing water at each other while you try and get your revenge.
“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry,” Jun admits with a pout. “You didn’t do this to Minghao after he dunked you in the water,” he complains as you release him.
You narrow your eyes. “How do you know about that?”
“He sent me the video.”
“Minghao!” you exclaim, turning to the boy who is now treading around a meter in front of you. He only shrugs and grins cheekily.
“It was really funny,” Jun tells you with a laugh. “I might just post it on my story.”
“Oh my god, don’t you dare.”
Jun only shakes his head and starts slowly swimming further into the lake. “Don’t worry—I wouldn’t do that. Minghao can’t have any dating rumors, now can he?”
You chew on your lip, not responding. Minghao doesn’t say anything either, only chuckling along with your brother as he follows after him. You aren’t sure what to say to that, and the comment leaves some uneasy feeling hanging in your stomach.
Fuck, maybe you did hit your head hard.
You three spend a good few hours out in the lake until it’s evening. It’s a slow day and you start to realize just how much you missed spending time with your brother and Minghao like this—it isn’t often they get the opportunity to do things like this, so you’re grateful that they decided to share some of their few days of peace with you.
The second day is even hotter than the first, and you wake from your sleep early in the morning when the sky is still blooming with purple and orange hues. Crawling out from your bed, you make your way downstairs. If it was just you and your brother, you wouldn’t be so mindful about keeping your noise levels down because god knows that Jun can sleep through just about anything, but, Minghao is with you guys now, and you’d hate to sour his experience even just a little by accidentally waking him up for being too loud.
So you can imagine your surprise when you walk into the kitchen to see Minghao already leaning against the counter as he scrolls through his phone. He hasn’t noticed you and you contemplate leaving it like that for a few moments.
He’s wearing a tight fit, black, sleeveless top that shows off the curve of his shoulders and lets the sparkle of his silver chain glint under the morning light. Minghao is attractive—you and the millions of people in his comments know that—and you feel an odd sense of pride well up in your stomach that you’re one of the few people who get to see him like this.
With his hair messy and brushing over his eyes, legs crossed over each other as he presses his body weight against the kitchen island, bare skin glowing from the natural light, he’s beautiful.
Your face heats up when you realize you’ve just been staring at him, so you quickly clear your throat. “Good morning,” you chirp, walking into the kitchen so he can finally see you.
Minghao looks up from his phone, tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants to greet you with a smile. “Hey, I didn’t know you were up. How’s your head doing?” he asks shyly, walking over to casually run his hand over that same spot on the crown of your head.
It’s an oddly intimate gesture, and if you didn’t know any better, your heart might have given out from the way he was touching you. Still, you know he’s just checking to see if it’s swollen, but your heart flutters anyways.
“I-it’s fine,” you reply, opening the fridge to pull out some orange juice as his hand drops. “I didn’t know you were an early riser. Jun always sleeps in whenever he gets the chance.”
“Yeah, well that’s why he’s paged as a literal cat by everyone,” Minghao says with a chuckle as you place a jug on the counter. “Do you want some tea? I’m just boiling the water now so I can add some more if you want.”
“Sure, that’ll be nice.” You pour yourself some orange juice. “Do you want to eat something? I brought some cupcakes to have for breakfast,” you offer, reaching into one of the bags you didn’t unpack to pull out a box.
“Are they those cupcakes?”
“Yup—the one and only!” you exclaim, opening the lid to show him. Minghao grins, pulling two out.
“God, I missed these. Y’know, Jun actually gave your recipe to Mingyu too, but he just doesn’t make them the same,” Minghao tells you, and your eyes light up.
“Really? Poor Mingyu,” you say with a sigh.
“If you ever end up visiting us in Korea, you should really make some,” Minghao suggests as he goes to take care of the boiling water, dropping some tea leaves into it before moving the water into a pot. Then, pulling out two small cups and plates, he says, “Me and Jun have told the others about how good you make them, but they really need to try them.”
“I’d love to,” you say with a grin, giddy with the way Minghao is boosting your ego. As he pours out the tea into two mugs, you put the cupcakes on the small plates, looking out to the glass sliding door which leads to the porch by the lake. “You want to eat outside? The sky looks really beautiful now, and the weather looks like it’s nice too.”
Minghao nods, holding up the two mugs while you grab the plates and follow him outside and onto the little shaded porch where you sit by two of the chairs and the small, knee level coffee table. The sky is still deep in its changing colors, and you pull out your phone to take some pictures.
“Can you take some pictures of me? For my WeVerse and Instagram and stuff?” he asks when you’re done, holding out his phone in your direction.
“Yeah, of course.” Leaning back after you grab his phone, you position yourself as Minghao poses. “Lean back a little more so the background can—yeah, perfect …” You take a few photos, and Minghao nods happily when you show him.
“Can you take some more candid ones?”
“Sure, let’s switch spots. I think it’ll look nicer if it looks like you’re looking out to the lake from here,” you suggest, getting up from your seat. Minghao complies without protest and you spend a few more minutes taking some pictures before finally handing him the phone. “You like them?”
“Hell yeah I do,” he says, looking through his phone. “You’re great at this,” he compliments sincerely.
“I’m used to taking the kinda pictures you guys like now … Jun has trained me well,” you joke, sitting back in the seat and reaching for your own cup of tea. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both relax and watch the sky grow brighter by the minute.
Jun wakes up an hour later, trudging out his room with groggy eyes as you poke fun of him. The morning is slow for a short while after that before Minghao is reminding you all that you need to start heading back home. The two of them are leaving for Korea in two days, after all, and that leaves them with only today and tomorrow to completely bask in themselves and the rest of their family, so you pack your things and end your stay at the cabin before the clock hits noon.
That night, after you drive yourself and Jun home and you retreat to the comfort of your apartment, you flop down onto your couch and pull out your phone. You’re met with a few notifications from WeVerse and Instagram, casually scrolling through the apps when your eyes catch a few familiar pictures.
It’s on Instagram and you recognize the bright orange of the rising sky that sits behind Minghao who is smiling into the camera. The next picture is a candid one of him looking at the lake while he drinks some tea, and the third is a picture of the cupcake you made.
You grin at the picture—the rest of the world won’t know it, but you definitely do—it’s a little piece of you that Minghao is sharing with the world. Though, you aren’t sure if he put as much thought into it as you are right now.
Brushing it off as Minghao just wanting to share a pretty picture of a nice looking cupcake, you purse your lips together only for them to be parted when you read his caption.
i’m a weirdo
Scrolling through the comments, you come across people saying, many among the following:
ur not a weirdo >:c fellow radiohead fanatic i see is the8 a certified creep? o: i didn’t know minghao liked radiohead … another reason to stan!
As you ignore the increased palpitating of your heart at the idea that Minghao quoted a line from, in your opinion, “your guys’ song.” you sit and think for a moment about what to do. You consider just liking the post and scrolling past it before a funny thought crosses your mind, and so you start typing into the comments.
i wonder who took these pics lol
No one’s going to see it. Minghao is definitely not going to see it, but you giggle to yourself anyways. You’re about to put your phone down when you get a notification of a reply to your comment. Curious, you open it up, and see that it’s just a random person.
imagine it’s his gf
You laugh to yourself. You wish.
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The last day or two with Jun goes as they always do when he’s here—slow, but all that you need. He spends his time at your parents house and you stop by for lunch and dinner the day after you both return from the lake house.
The afternoon, you both went down to the cafe and stocked up on chocolate buns—Jun’s request—and spent the rest of your time until evening going over your plans for the rest of the summer. You enjoy this part, always. Not Jun leaving—of course not—but spending these tame moments with him.
It makes you wonder what things would have been like if he never left. Maybe he’d move out for university someplace else, but you’d get to see him more, probably. Get to hang out with him every weekend, instead of every two months.
You shake yourself off the thought as you drive to your parents house. Having Jun around more often would be nice, but there isn’t any point in dreaming about the impossible.
As you pull up to the driveway and park your car, you notice Minghao standing out by the front door with his suitcase and a bag. “Hey, looking for Jun?”
“Well, yeah. Of course I wanna say bye to you both before you go … is the van here yet?”
“Nah, it’s still taking some time but Jun is on the other side of the house to see if the car is gonna come from that side,” he explains.
“I’m gonna miss you guys … you know when you’re both going to come next?” you ask, voice softer than you anticipated.
“I really don’t know—I’m sorry. You know how things are.”
“Yeah,” you mumble, shoulders deflating as you look down at the ground..
“I know—it’s not … it's not easy for Jun, either, I can tell. It isn’t easy for any of us to leave.” When Minghao finishes speaking you only nod, and as your eyes meet,you feel like there’s something he wants to say. “Hey,” he murmurs quietly.
A heavy hand is placed on your shoulder, and you feel you might as well sink to the ground and let the earth swallow you up. “If you’re going to talk about—”
“Hear me out, yeah?” Minghao cuts you off, and when you open your mouth in protest, he continues. “Don’t …” he inhales deeply before saying, “Don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, okay?”
You cross your arms over your chest. “That really depends on what you’re going to say.”
“Okay, just … just listen. Jun, and me, and Yiren, and Renjun—” God, why is he bringing this up? “—we aren’t trying to hurt you.”
“Of course I know that.” Your eyebrows knit together and Minghao sighs at your reaction, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You miss the touch, but your mind is a little too preoccupied with trying to decipher Minghao’s words to dwell on it.
“I’m just saying … you shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.” You open your mouth and then close it, trying to figure out how the hell he expects you to respond to this.
“What d’you mean?”
“Well I mean,” he huffs before continuing, shoving his hands in his pockets, “you obviously have been … upset about people leaving you and you can’t expect everyone to stick around forever.”
“If you’re talking about Renjun, he was my boyfriend. I think it’s okay for me to expect someone who I’m dating to ‘stick around,’ even though it might not be forever.”
“I guess, but it’s not just Renjun, right? Jun … Yiren … me …” he voice trails off.
“I basically spent my whole middle and high school years around you and Yiren, and Jun is literally my brother. Do you think me wanting the people I quite literally grew up around to be here for me is being ‘dependant?’”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I mean we were all going to grow up eventually? Look, don’t take this the wrong way and—”
“Excuse me?” you blurt out harshly, taking a step back, scoffing before you continue. “I wouldn’t be taking this the wrong way if you obviously didn’t mean it the wrong way. You basically just said I’m not independent.”
Minghao frowns at your reaction before responding, “I didn’t say that. I just said you shouldn’t depend on anyone.”
“Which implies that I am depending on people unnecessarily!”
Minghao adjusts his backpack straps as he says, “I mean you did cry for quite a while about how people are leaving you. I just don’t want you to get more hurt by being dependent on others.”
“Thanks for the concern,” you shoot sarcastically, “but I’m not dependent on anyone. I was upset that night because all the people closest to me have moved away and if you ask any normal person, I’m pretty sure they’d agree that that’s a valid reason to cry a little. So sorry if that was too much for you.” You say the last part with disgust laced on your tongue, and you watch Minghao’s face grow increasingly sour as you go on.
“Okay, now you’re just twisting my words,” Minghao huffs, glancing around to make sure that no one is close by.
“What the hell Minghao,” you scoff, clenching your fists at your side. You don’t want to be the person to jump down his throat, but you can’t help but feel like you’re being talked down to. “Why—why are you acting like I’m still a little kid. I’m more than Jun’s little sister, you do know that right?”
“Oh my god, seriously?” Minghao retorts, eyebrows rising in a mix of disbelief and irritation. “You think that’s what this is about? For fuck’s sake I’m just looking out for you.”
“Exactly!” you exclaim, pointing an accusing finger at him. “There’s no reason for that! Like I said, I’m not some little girl anymore and I’ve been looking out for myself for years. You just happened to catch me in a moment where I let myself be sad about it which, again, is a totally valid thing to be sad about.”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Well congratulations! You were unsuccessful,” you mumble out, feeling an ugly knot build up in your throat. “I trusted you,” you say softly, and Minghao looks at you with eyes so apologetic you almost think about forgiving him. “That night after I saw Renjun—I-I trusted you,” you add more harshly this time. “And I cried to you even though we haven’t properly spoken in fuck knows how long and you take all that and make me out to seem like some sort of defenseless kid—”
“Can you stop—you’re putting words into my mouth. I never said you were defenseless or not independent or anything like that—I don’t even know why you think I would think of you like that because you know that’s not true.”
“Minghao, I don’t know if you’ve realized but it’s been years since we've talked properly. Just because—” You take a deep breath before continuing your bitter words. “—just because you get to live your stupidly amazing life with my brother by your side doesn’t mean that you know me and that I know you, because clearly we don’t know each other at all!”
“I’m sorry?” he says exasperatedly. “Sorry I care about you or whatever, even though things have changed.”
You scowl, and in your right mind you wouldn’t let your next words slip out of your mouth. “Well don’t. I’ve been fine without your sympathy so far, I’m pretty sure I can go on a bit longer.”
Minghao is about to respond, you can tell from the way his hands fiddle at his sides, but then there’s a buzzing and you reach into your pocket to pull out your phone. “Hey Jun,” you say, answering the call without meeting Minghao’s gaze. “… Yeah, he’s with me, we’re just waiting for the car … okay I’ll tell him.”
Tucking the device back into your pocket, you look at Minghao. “Jun is asking for you on the other side of the house. You should go,” you say flatly and you can tell from the look on his face that he wants to say more, but holds back.
Grabbing his suitcase, he tears his eyes from you and doesn’t look back after saying, “See you,” walking away and around the corner of the street. There’s that similar chill that takes over your body when Minghao says the same words Renjun said just a few nights before, and you silently wonder if this is history repeating itself.
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“So,” Yiren says as she plops down onto your couch, kicking her feet up onto your coffee table. “How’d meeting with Renjun go? He give you your shit back?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” you grumble as you walk over and nudge her legs to get her to put them down. “And you can’t just flop down and sit! Put your suitcase away so it’s not in the middle of the room,” you order, trying to be stern as Yiren sticks her tongue out at you.
“So bossy—your best friend is visiting your cute little abode and you can’t help her out with her stuff?” Yiren juts out her bottom lip into a pout as you sit next to her and wrap your arms around her waist, sinking into the couch. “Okay what’s going on. You’re being extra snappish …” she asks a bit more seriously, pulling away from your hold to get a better look at you. “Was it Renjun? Did he say something before he left?”
“No!” you say quickly, looking away bashfully, leaning back against the arm rest. You fucking wish you were in this sour mood because of Renjun because you could manage that. Renjun is gone, and it would hurt but you’d get over it.
You aren’t sure how long it’ll take to get over Minghao, if you ever do at all.
“Are you lying to me? You know I can tell when you’re not telling the truth.”
“I am telling the truth.” Just not all of it, you think to yourself.
Yiren sighs loudly, sitting up straight and facing you completely. “You are so bad at this. C’mon tell me—what’d he say? Or was it not Renjun—Jun? Which Jun was it? Did you and Jun fight?”
“I—”
“Like that one time two years ago and you didn’t talk to each other until he came back a month later and—”
You cringe at the memory, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Yiren don’t bring that up. I hated that.”
“Okay sorry,” she says sheepishly. “But seriously—what was it? Renjun? Jun? Which one? Or wait—Min—oh my gosh, don’t tell me it was Minghao!” When you take more than a second to respond, Yiren gasps. “Oh god, it was Minghao.”
She stands up quickly, looking down at your figure on the couch. Before you can say anything, she turns on her heel and walks towards your kitchen. “Hey, where are you going!” you call out to her, sitting upright.
Yiren doesn’t respond, only reaching into the fridge and pulling out two cans of pop. Walking back, she sits down in front of you and hands you a Cola, opening her own Sprite herself. “C’mon, you need to tell me about this. The pop is just here for emotional support.”
You narrow your eyes at her. You thought you were dealing with the effects of your argument with Minghao perfectly fine, but as you look down at the cold can in front of you, an uneasy feeling bubbles up in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you set the can down on your coffee table, leaving it unopened.
Yiren gapes at you with wide eyes. “You’re not going to have it?” Neck hanging low, you shake your head, and you hear her gasp quietly. “Oh my gosh, you just turned down a Cola,” she mutters, grabbing a pillow and pushing it in your direction. “Okay now you need to tell me what’s going on.” She pauses, shuffling closer, adding softly, “It’s okay, you can cry.”
And just like that, the dam breaks and stray tears fall from your lashes as you clutch the pillow close to your chest, blubbering your mind away to your best friend.
“I don’t even get it—I thought I was over him?” you question aloud. “Like when I was with Renjun I was happy and I didn’t think about Minghao because Renjun was great and he was so nice but he just—” you choke back a sob and Yiren pats your back.
“But he left,” she murmurs softly and you want to cry harder because Yiren left too, but then you remind yourself of what Minghao said. Taking a deep breath, your wipe your face of your tears and although your lips still quiver, you start to speak.
“It’s okay,” you mutter, because it isn't like you haven’t cried over this before. “I just—I guess I haven’t really tried hard enough.”
“Tried to … what exactly?”
You huff, throwing your back onto the couch as you look up at the ceiling. “You know: get over him.”
Yiren chuckles a little, and even through your sniffles, you laugh with her. “What are you saying—you gonna fuck around now?”
“Maybe not fuck around,” you say, crossing your legs. “More like … have some fun.”
“So basically fuck around.”
“Yiren!”
“Oh c’mon—you need me to set you up with someone? My sister knows a lot of—”
You nudge her playfully. “What happened to ‘Ms. I Want Half of the Proceeds from your Wedding with Minghao?’”
“First of all,” Yiren waves a finger at you pointedly, “I only asked for 25%, but if you two can come back from this, I will be asking for at least 50% because I have been rooting for you two since day one.”
“Aren’t you the one who’s trying to set me up with other guys?”
“That’s only because you come first to me. Your relationship with Minghao—”
“The nonexistent one,” you correct and Yiren glares at you.
“Okay fine. Your nonexistent relationship with Minghao comes second. I want to see you happy. If you get to be happy with Minghao that’s just an added plus because, you know, 50% of all the gifts and—”
“You’re getting 25% max.”
“Don’t worry. There’s still time for plenty of negotiation and—”
“Yiren!”
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You don’t live up to Yiren’s expectations—in her words, she wanted you to have a hot girl summer, but you couldn’t be bothered to go through with it. Well, sort of.
The next two months go along as your summers usually do. You take up a job near your apartment, working through the morning and afternoon, spending your evenings at home or occasionally out with Jianing.
Jianing doesn’t know much about anything when it comes to your (nonexistent) relationship with Minghao, and you figure she doesn’t need to. When you need a distraction, all it takes is a quick message asking her to accompany you for whatever endeavors you have going on for the night and she’s on board.
It’s a slow summer, but you don’t really mind. Not burdened with the stress of your classes and with Jun and Minghao gone for the next two months for their own performances and promotions, you have time to focus on yourself.
Occasional parties, indulging in hobbies, daily walks in the mornings, late nights of binge watching TV shows, outings with Jianing—it’s all a part of a simple routine that you’ve curated to do one thing, and one thing only: relax.
It’s only near the end of the summer, around three weeks before your classes are set to resume, that Jun calls you to let you know he’s coming home with Minghao. He seems pretty casual about it, and you’re reminded about how Minghao probably didn’t mention anything about your argument to your brother, which you’re thankful for.
It’s a passing thought that you’ll have to figure out how you want to act when you finally face him again. Whatever. That’s a problem for another time. Right now, you relax.
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That problem for another time seems to have become a problem for now. Jun came home two days ago and things were alright—no run-ins to Minghao and you spend time with your brother like you usually do whenever he returns: with bickering and meals.
It’s only on the third day that things become a little … a little iffy. Your brother texts you in the evening to get ready quickly because he’s stopping by with Minghao for dinner at his place, and it’s all happening so quickly that you don’t have time to come up with an excuse.
So here you are, throwing on your sacred pink jacket because it’s the first thing in your vision, some old jeans, and waiting outside your apartment building much less enthusiastically than you’d like. It’s only a matter of minutes before your phone buzzes with a text from Jun letting you know he’s here and you see Minghao’s car pulling up in front of you.
Making your way to the back door where you usually sit with the two of them, you furrow your brows seeing Jun sitting in your usual spot.
“Sit in the front,” Jun orders when you go to open the back door, “I wanna lay down.” You shrug, making your way to the passenger seat as Jun settles into the back, resting his head on the window while kicking his legs up onto the other two seats.
“Hi,” you say quietly to Minghao who nods and speaks his own quick greeting, averting his attention to the wheel in front of him without much more than that.
“Please,” he huffs, watching Jun through the rear view mirror, “don’t put your shoes on the seats. I just had the car cleaned.” Jun clicks his tongue and kicks his shoes off, continuing to lay back in the seat as Minghao starts the car. The ride is silent as he drives toward the restaurant, both you and Jun on your phones while Minghao has his eyes trained on the road.
Once he parks in front of the place, you watch from the corner of your vision to see Minghao unbuckling his seatbelt before your brother speaks up.
“You guys can wait here, I’m gonna grab the food,” Jun says, slipping in his shoes and making his way to the restaurant, leaving you and Minghao in thickening silence. His hands are resting on his thighs and you press your head on the window, looking out as you try to focus on anything but this.
“Uh,” Minghao clears his throat, and you silently brace yourself for what he might say. “Nice jacket.”
Oh.
Glancing down at what you’re wearing, you twiddle with the hem of the familiar pink jacket. You wonder if this is Minghao’s way of holding out a figurative olive branch, and then you think harder about if you’re willing to accept it. “Thanks,” you reply, matting a hand over your hair before turning your attention to Jun who’s walking towards your car now.
Slipping into the back seat, he shakes the plastic bag in the air as he buckles himself in. “Takeout secured. Let’s go back to your place now,” Jun says, tapping on Minghao’s shoulder from behind. There’s an odd tension in the air, and you don’t doubt that Jun feels it, although he keeps his mouth shut about it.
No one says a word until Minghao is parking in his driveway and unlocking the front door. You follow behind the two of them, Jun grabbing the food as you enter Minghao’s house.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jun asks, putting the takeout bag on the coffee table of the living room as you all begin to settle down.
You shrug off your coat as you say, “Uh, I have to go back to my place and go out for the afternoon and evening with Jianing. Me and her have this little monthly date day thing, and we’re going to the city.”
“Wha-a-a-t,” Jun drawls out, a frown etched onto his face. You narrow your eyes at him, shrugging.
“What? It’s not like you’re leaving right after tomorrow.”
“Yeah, but I’m not here for long. I wanted to do something tomorrow, since I might be doing stuff after that!” Jun whines, pointing at Minghao. “We might be going to this cool store and take some pictures and stuff.”
You huff, slightly annoyed as you flop down on a couch. “Okay well can’t you do that tomorrow then? I already have plans.”
Jun pouts, and if he wasn’t so on your nerves right now, you would poke some fun at him. “Why-y-y? You knew I was coming this week!”
“Well it’s not like I can clear my schedule for you. If you wanted to do something you should’ve told me earlier!”
“I let you know last week I was coming down!”
“Jun,” you say with a half laugh, noticing the way Minghao’s eyes have been flickering back and forth between you two through the whole conversation, “one week is not enough time to change some plans. I’ve been meeting with Jianing consistently at this time of month for over a year!”
“But still—”
“It’s not like if I showed up to Korea whenever the time’s convenient for me, you’d drop everything you’re doing to spend time with me!” you exclaim.
Jun’s fists ball at his side before he says, “That’s because my job is important and—”
“The stuff I do in my life might not seem important to you but it is very much important to me. Sorry I’ve made commitments to other people before I even knew you were coming, but I don’t know why you’d expect me to drop all my plans just for you. It’s not even like we aren’t going to see each other afterwards too.”
“Well I’d only hope that’s the case—I only ever see you once every few months so sorry for wanting to take some of your time.”
“Guys—” Minghao starts to say, standing between the two of you but when both you and Jun glare at him, he steps back.
“Do you think your time is worth more than mine or something?” you scoff at Jun, ignoring Minghao.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’m sorry, what exactly did you mean it like then?” you hiss.
Jun sucks in a breath between clenched teeth and runs a hand through his hair. “You know what I meant. Things are just—they’re different. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Right yeah. I won’t understand because I don’t have all these girls throwing themselves at me, making me think I’m entitled to everyone’s damn time.” Maybe you crossed a line with that one, but you’re too angry to care now. Hot tears well up in your lash line, threatening to fall any moment now.
“You were the one who was being a brat when you found out I was going to go to Korea in the first place!” Jun exclaims. “Fucking hell, why are you making such a big deal out of me wanting to spend some time with you now?”
Your face screws up into some kind of ugly frown at the words, and you clench your fists as your side. “A brat?” you repeat. “A brat? Is that seriously what you think of me?
“Well you did make a pretty damn big scene about me leaving, so yeah, maybe I do feel entitled to some of your time seeing that you were the one who was desperate for it in the first place.”
“Desperate? Are you kidding me—desperate? I was sixteen and you dumped the fact that you were moving away in like less than two months on me —of course I was upset but desperate? Well fuck you too I guess.” You punctuate the last word by turning on your heel, grabbing your coat off and marching past Minghao and over to the door.
You don’t hear Jun say anything after you do, and for that you are grateful because you don’t think you’ll be able to handle hearing his voice again. Walking out the foyer past the door, you stomp your way to your car, forcefully yanking the driver’s seat open and plopping yourself down with a heavy thud.
Without a word, you press your forehead against the steering and scream a loud and painful, “FUCK!” You can’t even remember a damn thing you or Jun said but all that throttles in your head is the word brat and you feel you might just pull the steering wheel off your stupid car and tear just about everything else apart too.
The prospect is pretty tempting, actually, and in your red, you continue to hit your head, albeit gently, against the wheel as you mutter incoherent curses to yourself. The thud of your skull against the smooth letter rings in your ears until it becomes all that you can hear, so loud that it almost drowns out the knocking sound that comes from outside.
“Holy shit!” you gasp, when you see Minghao from the corner of your vision, standing outside your car with his lips pressed into the thin line. Rolling down your windows, you grimace. “You fucking scared me so bad. Please never creep up on me like that again.”
He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t fucking storm out like that again then,” Minghao says, and your eyes widen slightly when you hear his voice. It’s harder, firmer, more serious than you’ve ever heard before.
“What are you—”
“You can’t drive when it’s night and you’re sobbing—”
“I am not sobbing,” you fruitlessly choke out, wiping some tears off your cheek as you straighten your back and glare at him.
“Look I get you’re mad at Jun and all but can you please calm down and talk to me so—”
You let out a humorless laugh as you begin to roll your windows back up. “Don’t even get me started on you.”
Minghao clicks his tongue as he sticks a hand into your window to stop it from going up any further, looking sideways for a second before turning back to you. “Okay well I don’t want you to drive yourself home like this. It’s not safe.”
“I am not staying here tonight.”
“Then let me drive you home,” Minghao suggests and you open up to object but no words come out. “You agree? C’mon, step out.” You let out nothing more than a huff as you open the door, slipping out quickly and shuffling to the other side where you sit with your arms crossed over your chest, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.
Minghao has already taken your spot, hands on the same steering wheel that you were planning on smashing with your head just minutes ago. He’s quiet for a few moments as he backs out of the driveway and starts driving down the street, the car echoing nothing but your soft sniffles that haven’t seemed to stop.
When Minghao opens his mouth again, you’re bracing yourself for a round of chiding, but all that comes out is a one-word question. “Pop?” He takes your silence as a confirmation, and soon enough Minghao is pulling up to that same convenience store. “Do you want me to get it for you?” he asks after he’s parked in front of the convenience store.
You purse your lips together, finally letting yourself turn to look at him. You really want to be mad at him but when you catch the way his fingers are shoved into his pockets, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he awaits your answer, you start to realize that Minghao might be just as apprehensive about this as you are.
“It’s fine,” you mutter, unbuckling your seatbelt so you can get out, Minghao following you quickly.
You’re the first to walk in this time, grabbing a Cola for yourself before looking at Minghao with a raised brow. When he nods, you toss him another can and he makes his way to the cash register. He’s about to pull out his wallet when you’re brushing past him and getting there first, holding up your card to the machine proudly.
“Just because I don’t want to be in any more debt to you,” you murmur, handing Minghao a can after you’ve paid for them both. You lead the way, walking out of the door and slotting yourself into the passenger seat of your car and Minghao gets into the seat next to you, turning on the engine.
You’re still quiet when he starts driving towards your apartment building, and you think that this is the perfect chance for you to drown in the silence. Maybe if you pretend you’re alone, you’ll be able to forget about all the thoughts running through your mind.
Pressing your eyes shut, you slump down into your seat and just as you’re about to let your mind drift into the silence, you hear a familiar rattle of the snare and guitar bridge and your eyes snap open, staring at Minghao directly. He faces forward, eyes trained on the road as he pulls closer to the curb in front of your complex, sighing deeply when the car starts to slow down.
“What are you trying to do Minghao?” you finally say weakly, burying your face in your hands. “You—you’re playing Creep and you took me to get Cola and all you were supposed to do was take me home so—”
“Can I not try to make you feel better? I don’t want you to be upset, so I’m sorry if I’m trying to do the things I know you enjoy,” Minghao responds with a heavy breath, parking in front of your building just like that night he did when he picked you up from the bus stop after you met with Renjun.
The deep strumming of guitar and vibrations of the bass bounce off the walls of your car, and you slip into your seat as the words of the song sink in.‘What the hell am I doing here?’ Glancing up at Minghao, your vision grows blurry. “Minghao …” your voice is quiet and strained when you call for him, and in that moment, you know.
All those years ago when you wanted to kiss him and hold him and pull him close, but you didn’t because you were scared. When you wanted to let your tongues collide and tug at his hair, but you didn’t because you had so much to lose.
You still have so much to lose, but you’re not scared anymore.
And it seems Minghao isn’t either.
Tonight, you get to taste the lingering drops of Cola on his tongue. You get to feel his arms fumbling over the armrest, slipping around your waist and yanking you onto his lap. You get to hold his neck and let your fingers sit in his hair. You get to indulge.
Minghao’s mouth is hot against yours, tongue lapping at your bottom lip when you take a sacred moment to breathe on top of him before your eyes are fluttering back shut and your lips mold into one once again. He hugs you so close you don’t know how you can still breathe, don’t know how your bones don’t melt into each other in this burning moment.
Your lips work fervently to slide against each other in a wet, calculated mess that has you whimpering into Minghao’s mouth when one of his hands cups your jaw. His thumb is soft against your cheekbone when he tilts your head to the side so that your noses brush against either and his lips delve deeper into the caverns of your mouth.
You don’t know how long you two go at it, fingers grappling at whatever skin you can, Minghao’s hand brushing under your shirt and stroking the plush of your hips. And when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore because your heart is so full, you pull away, letting the thin string of saliva connect your shiny lips.
Your brain is foggy and you and Minghao simply sit in the comfortable silence. Well, almost comfortable silence.
You shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.
“W-wait,” you stutter when Minghao leans forward in hopes to catch your lips in another fleeting kiss. “Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself, pushing his shoulders back against the seat as you try to shuffle off his lap.
Minghao holds your waist tightly, but you break free of the grasp. “What are you doi—hey, wait a sec!”
“You said you’re trying to make me feel better but you just did exactly the opposite,” you scoff, slipping on your coat as you push the car door open.
“What are you talking abo—” You cut him off by slamming the door, and Minghao quickly grabs your keys and follows after you. “Slow down.”
You whip around to face him, tears streaming down your face for what feels nth time tonight. “Look, you left like two months ago spewing all this stuff about how I should be independent but the second you come back you act like you’re trying so hard to make me feel better and stuff and then—” You take a deep breath, “—then we makeout and you—fuck I don’t know, I don’t know what you expect from me! Do you just expect me to forget about this and not get upset when you leave again?” you choke out. “Just keep my keys and drive yourself back to your place. I’ll pick up my car later,” you mutter.
“Can you stop doing this? It’s just like what happened last time, and I don’t want to have to leave if you’re—if we’re not okay.”
“What ‘we?’ Weren’t you the one who told me to not expect anyone to stay? I’m not going to do this ‘we’ and ‘us’ thing with someone who is just going to leave all over again. I’m not going to expect you to stay.”
“Look, I just don’t want this to be hanging over your head when I’m gone.”
Ironic, you think to yourself. You want to tell Minghao that he’s been hanging over your head ever since you met him all those years ago, but you bite back the words.
“Minghao,” you say, your voice strained and tired, “I’m already exhausted and my brain isn’t working so can you please just give me my space.”
And if Minghao is one thing, it’s not pushy, and you know that this is all it takes to get him to back off. Though, you don’t miss the way his face falls as he steps back quietly.
“See you,” he mutters through gritted teeth as he turns on his heel, and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or bothered by the way he leaves so silently.
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You don’t see Minghao or Jun after that night. They’rewere  supposed to leave for Korea in the next four days, and so you spend those four days lodged up in your apartment, not leaving unless absolutely necessary—you’re scared that you might run into one of them, as pathetic as that sounds.
Jun doesn’t text you and you don’t text him. It’s a bit abnormal, you two communicate at least once every two days, if not more. It’s a bit of an unspoken rule, but now that you’re both hot-headed and very much not in the right mind, you figure some rules are meant to be broken.
It’s two days after Jun and Minghao were scheduled to leave, the only confirmation that you got that they actually did leave being the group picture at the airport your father sent to the family group chat.
Jianing comes to your apartment when you finally call her over, quickly picking up on your sullen state.
“I don’t get it,” she says with a shrug after you explain to her everything that happened between you and Jun and Minghao.
“Well yeah, I guess you don’t, but this has been going on for a while,” you reply begrudgingly, sinking into your couch as she stares at you blankly from your armchair.
“Just—I dunno—talk to them?”
You give her a funny look. “How?” you groan, throwing your head back. “They won’t be back for like a month at least, and I don’t want to call them.”
“I forget they’re famous sometimes” Jianing mutters, rolling her eyes, and you laugh at the comment.
“You and me both,” you say, straightening your back.
“But still, I don’t get it. I mean just visit them?” she suggests casually.
“I can’t just fly up to Korea unannounced!” you exclaim, bewildered.
Jianing rolls her eyes at you and you frown. “Why not? I mean you just said this might go on for a while if you don’t talk to them so I don’t get it. Just go see them.”
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YOURS TRULY
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you: chan i need ur help [8:13 AM] chan: this is ur first time texting me in three months [8:15 AM] chan: so i am going to assume this is pretty important [8:15 AM] you: i’m at incheon airport [8:16 AM] chan: what [8:17 AM] you: what [8:17 AM] chan: jun didn’t say anything about u coming??! [8:19 AM] you: DON’T TELL HIM [8:19 AM] chan: what … [8:20 AM] you: i’m surprising him [8:20 AM] chan: ????? [8:21 AM] chan: who knows [8:21 AM] you: um you do [8:21 AM] chan: thank u [8:22 AM] chan: so what do u need [8:22 AM] you: can u pick me up [8:23 AM] chan: i don’t have a choice do i [8:24 AM] you: nope :3 [8:24 AM]
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When black SUV stops in front of you by the curb at the airport, you smile brightly, waving at the driver as the windows begin to roll down. You’re about to chirp a quick, “Hi Chan!” but the words get caught in your throat when you see who’s driving.
“Jeonghan?” you ask confusedly. He waves at you from the front seat, and Chan sticks his head in from the back to look at you through the window.
“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, opening the door to help you pull in your suitcase and get situated into the back seat. “Look, I tried to leave without anyone noticing but they saw me so I told them I was going to the gym, but he said he wanted to come and —” Chan glares at the man in the passenger seat, “— I don’t even know why since he hasn’t gone to the gym in ages—”
“Watch it Chan!” Jeonghan calls out from the front as the cat starts to move, pulling an eye roll out of the boy sitting next to you.
“Whatever. Basically, I had no choice but to bring him along and tell them I was actually picking you up.”
“You guys didn’t tell Jun, did you?” you ask worriedly.
“I—no,” Jeonghan says. “And even if we tried, he won’t be awake for another hour or whatever. That’s besides the point anyways—Chan is terrible at lying.”
“You caught me off guard! I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this morning, so I didn’t have any excuses prepared …” Chan huffs, sinking into his seat as you glance back and forth between them nervously.
“Thank you for trying anyways,” you say sincerely, adjusting in your seat. “I know this was all really sudden but I didn’t plan anything out and I kinda ended up here before I could even process anything,” you add.
“Hey, Minghao was telling us about these really good cupcakes you make—if you have time, can you bake them for us?” Chan asks, out of the blue.
You give him a funny look and then smile. “Sure, if I have the time. I’d like to—they told me Mingyu tries to make them for you guys.”
“Yeah! That would—”
“Thank you, but I’m going to assume that you are here for a reason other than making us your infamous cupcakes,” Jeonghan says, merging onto the freeway.
“As much as I’d love for that to be why I’m here, you’re right,” you mutter, resting your head against the headrest.
“Is everything alright?” Jeonghan asks.
As you’re about to respond, Chan chimes in. “This is about Jun, isn’t it?”
“Ai—Channie, don’t jump to conclusions,” Jeonghan reprimands but Chan shakes his head, holding his hand up as he turns to you with wide eyes.
“No, no, I’m not assuming anything. I’m right, aren’t I?” Partly. Chan continues. “Well it’s just—I can kinda tell. He’s being a little snappier. Jeonghan wouldn’t know but—“
Jeonghan gives Chan a warning look through the rear view mirror. “What do you mean I wouldn’t know?”
“Hannie, just listen to me. So me and Soonyoung and Minghao and Jun have been practicing at night right—for that next performance—and you know that Jun has a bit of a temper, especially in the night, but I don’t know—it’s just been different recently.”
You stifle a scoff when Chan mentions Jun having a short temper, looking out the window hoping no one heard. Jun does have a bit of a fiery streak, but the truth is that you’re just as sporadic as him.
Fire meets fire. Huh, wonder what that makes. More fire, probably. That’s what got you here, isn’t it? Unfortunately.
“Has, uh,” you pause wondering if you should ask this, but curiosity does kill the cat, after all. “Has Minghao seemed … off?”
Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you. “What’s Minghao got to do with this? Did something happen with him too?” Curse that emotionally intelligent man.
Chan eyes flicker between the ground and you. “It’s hard to tell when Minghao is upset. He seems normal even when he’s upset so I can’t really tell … why though?”
“Just—just a lot of stuff. I think I need to see them both. Separately.”
Jeonghan nods, pursing his lips together before responding, “Do you need our help?”
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Jeonghan takes you to his apartment first so you have a moment to drop your suitcase off somewhere, and you get to say hi to Seungkwan who you’re pretty sure didn’t even recognize you in his drowsy state.
“Where’re we going?” you ask when you get back outside of the building heading towards the car.
“C’mon, let’s walk,” Chan says, pulling you away from the car.
“Jun’s apartment building is just down the street here,” Jeonghan explains. “He should be sleeping right now, so just wake him up.”
“Are you kidding me? He might kill me!” you complain with a frown.
Chan huffs, “Well you did come here unannounced and without a plan, so you don’t have much of a choice anyways.”
You chew on your lip as you fruitlessly try to come up with an answer, sighing in defeat when you come up with nothing.
“Exactly,” Jeonghan concludes, stopping in front of a building that’s built similar to his. “Anyways, his suite number is 345 on the third floor. You should know the code to his apartment right?”
You nod, but then shake your head. “I know it, but I think I’ll just knock until he wakes up. He might actually kill me if someone shows up inside his home unannounced.”
Chan laughs at that when the two of you lead you to the elevator of this new building. “That, he might.”
“So encouraging,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out at them as the elevator door opens. “Anyways, thank you for helping me, really. I’ll make cupcakes if I make it out of this alive,” you promise while you step in.
“You better!” Jeonghan calls out as the doors slide shut and the elevator begins to take you up.
It’s now, when you’re alone, that it all begins to sink in. You’re in Korea. You’re about to see Jun. You might die—okay maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you aren’t sure what to do with yourself so your mind is jumping towards the worst possible scenario as you reach the third floor and make your way to his apartment.
You stand in front of room 345 for a few moments once you arrive, not even sure if you’ll manage to go through with this. What the fuck are you even going to say?
(Un?)fortunately, you have a tendency to not think before you act, and before you have a second of thought your knuckles are rapping against the door. It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if you should go again.
Taking a deep breath, you continue knocking on the door at a steady rate before you hear soft footsteps growing louder in volume until they stop at the door. You hold your breath and let your hand fall, fisting it at your sides in anticipation.
When you see the door crack open, a wave of relief washes over you. But when you see Jun’s blank face as he looks down on you, a new sense of uneasiness takes over.
“What are you doing in my apartment?” Ah, how nostalgic.
“So cold. You aren’t going to let me in?”
Jun rolls his eyes, and you grow more anxious because you can’t tell if he’s being playful or not. He steps to the side though, and you quickly slip through the door so he can close and lock it behind you.
“What are you doing here?” he reiterates and you feel your tongue go dry.
“Uh, Chan told me that you’re being—well—how do I put this?” you mutter to yourself, rocking back and forth on your feet.
“Difficult?” Jun guesses, bitterness laced in the word and you cringe at the tone.
“I guess.”
“I don’t think you came all the way to Korea just because Chan told you I was being difficult.”
“I, uh, I talked to Jianing about it when she visited and … I guess I felt I should come see you.”
“So if Jianing didn’t talk to you about this, then you just wouldn’t have talked about it?” Jun asks harshly and you glare at him.
“Well it’s not like you would’ve come talk to me about it either,” you retort, and Jun goes quiet at them. “And Jianing didn’t make this decision for me, by the way, I made it all by myself.”
“Okay well you’re here now. What is it?” An uncomfortable silence sits between you two. “If you only came here to just stand there and stare off into space then—”
“Jun, please shut your mouth for like one minute,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I wanted to apologize. That night I … I was on edge.” Jun watches you intently as you finally meet his gaze. “There was a lot running through my mind and I was just—just fucking annoyed at everything and I took everything you said the worst way.”
A feeling of worry climbs up your throat—you and Jun don’t often apologize, at least not like this. Apologies usually come in the form of figurative olive trees—you buy him a LEGO set, he buys you a gift card to your favorite cafe, or something among that. Then again, this isn’t your usual argument with Jun, and maybe sometimes resorting to more traditional methods are most effective.
Jun sighs softly, not looking at you, and you grow worried that he’s even more angry than you anticipated. You brace yourself for his next possible words. “I … I did say some mean stuff too. I’m sorry—I just—I have a shitty temper. You know that. Chan probably told you that too.” Jun is silent for a second before continuing. “Is … is everything okay?”
The question isn’t quite what you’re expecting and you press your lips together tightly because you want to cry. You want to let the tears stream down your cheeks and tell Jun that you have no idea but also the perfect idea of what you’re doing and it’s all jumbled up mess in your head.
“I guess—I mean, I hate fighting with you,” you admit. “But, that’s why I came here and we didn’t say goodbye the last time and I know that was partly my fault but also I missed you.”
“But are you okay?”
“Jun—”
“Because I know you’re stubborn—it really is annoying sometimes but I’m not one to complain,” he adds with a huff, “and I know you’re a little weird—”
You both laugh and you point a finger at him, “Watch it—you and me both.”
“Whatever,” he says lightly before turning to a more serious tone. “But I never thought we’d fight again like that one time two years ago and—”
“Why does everyone keep bringing that up!? Yiren said that too,” you sigh.
“To make a point. Which, by the way, is me going back to asking you if everything’s okay. I just … I know that you’re a little crazy but I never thought that you’d fly over here for something that we could probably sort out over the phone. Not that I’m not glad to see you here, I mean, I am, I’m just … worried.”
“I kissed Minghao,” you blurt out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth after you do.
“What?!” Jun’s eyes go wide for a moment before he relaxes a little. “Is that what’s been up with you?”
“What do you mean ‘up with me?’”
“Moody. Cranky. Like you’re in high school again.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You chew on your lip as you try to read Jun’s expression. He doesn’t seem mad nor happy nor confused, and you’re running out of emotions to label him under.
“I knew you liked him in high school, you know. Thin walls, plus Yiren is loud as hell.”
“Ugh, I always told her to keep it down! She didn’t believe me!”
“Doesn’t matter now. What you or him do isn’t much of my business anyways,” Jun mutters, awkwardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodies. “I mean I guess it is, if it makes you all upset and not okay like this,” he continues.
You can tell he’s encouraging you to explain more, and you press your eyes together trying to figure what and what not you should say. “Has Minghao … has he seemed different?”
“I mean not really, but also it’s hard to tell with him because—” Your whole finger droops and Jun quickly places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, what is this about? Did something happen? You know you can tell me.”
“It’s a lot,” you confess. “I don’t know, I-I came here to talk to the both of you but I haven’t even thought about what to say to him. I kind of booked my tickets last night.”
“Last night?!”Jun exclaims. “Are you stupid or what?”
“Maybe I am!” you murmur, slapping your palm against your forehead. Jun looks down at your pained expression and frowns.
“You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”
“What happened to, ‘I don’t care what you guys do it isn’t my business?’”
“Well it is my business if you’re upset! I’m the only person who’s allowed to be a bitch to you.”
“Well ditto to you too!” You follow with a sigh. “I think I just need to talk to him.”
“He’s at the gym right now. Do you want to get coffee instead?”
“Hogging me all to yourself? I know you missed me but don’t you think this is a little unfair—I’d like to at least say hi to the others first. Or maybe have some time to sleep. I kind of got here at like seven in the morning.”
“Be grateful! I’m actually looking out for you, because they’ll literally hound you, plus I want to make up for not spending time with you last time I visited.”
You grin at the words, rolling your eyes playfully. “Fine. But you’re paying.”
“When do I not pay for you?”
“Loads of times!”
“That’s because you insist on paying for yourself.”
“Irrelevant!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving a fist in the air before Jun locks his arm around your neck and traps you in a headlock. Good times.
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“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.
“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.
“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”
“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”
“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”
“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”
“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”
“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”
“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”
“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”
“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”
“Jun.”
“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”
“You sure it’ll work?”
Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”
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“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.
“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.
“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”
“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”
“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”
“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”
“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”
“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”
“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”
“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”
“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”
“Jun.”
“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”
“You sure it’ll work?”
Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”
You twiddle your thumbs nervously behind your back as you wait in the elevator with Jeonghan. Jun had to take care of something with one of the other members, so he sent you off with the older boy to take you to the meeting room.
“He’ll be there, don’t worry,” Jeonghan tells you as he pats your shoulder lightly. “I just checked his location and I’m positive he’s there right now.”
“Thanks,” you say with a sigh, shifting your weight from leg to leg, “but I’m more worried about what I’m going to say. I think you already know but I planned like zero percent of this.”
“It’s becoming increasingly evident, unfortunately,” Jeonghan admits when the elevator dings and the door opens onto a floor full of rooms. “You’ll figure it out, I’m sure, seeing as you’re just like Jun.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jeonghan chuckles and leads you to a door a few steps down the hallway, pointing to it. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be in there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be down on floor three making some ramen,” he says cheerily, waving at you before retreating to elevatory before you have even a moment to protest.
So now you’re left with nothing but yourself and yet another door. This time, instead of knocking your life away, your hand is pressed against the knob as you debate whether or not you should turn it or not.
Once again, your body acts without your mind and you’re quietly opening the door and poking your head through the crack. Inside is Minghao with headphones over his ears, sitting at the end of a long table with his head crooked down as he scrolls through his lap top.
He doesn’t hear you, but you aren’t sure if it’s for the better or the worse. In some ways, you still have a chance to run, but in others, you’ll have to call out to him if you want him to notice you. Gulping, you realize that you’ve been too scared for too long and so you clear your throat.
“Minghao,” you call out.
It only takes a second for his eyes to shoot up, hands flying to his headphones to take them off as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. You’re at opposite ends of the room right now, and you nervously shut the door behind you as you finally meet his gaze.
“What are you doing here?”
“I—” You inhale sharply. “—I don’t know. I just think we both needed to talk.”
You can see him visibly gulp as he stands up, and looks away as if trying to figure out what he should do with himself.
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, dread washing over you.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, face burning. “I know I just showed up like this without warning and I know that’s not fair so if you don’t want to talk you know I totally get it and—” you start to blabber so fast you hardly notice him walking over and down the length of the table, “—I just really wanted to see you and talk to you but I couldn’t do it over the phone because—”
“Slow down,” Minghao says firmly, now standing in front of you as he gazes down with wide eyes. “Is everything okay? When did you come here—wait, did you come here just to talk to me?”
“Well yeah. And Jun.”
“Are you okay?” Minghao asks softly. “This doesn’t seem like you.”
You wince at the familiar words but shake it off. “I know, I just had so much to say and I’m sorry because you were right, and when you said you didn’t want this hanging over my head I was angry and I thought I could ignore this and ignore you but I was wrong and just really needed to sort things out. And the night you picked me up after Renjun and all—I know you told me to not depend anyone or anything—and I know I’m not listening to you right now and I don’t want you to be disappointed but—”
“Stop,” Minghao says, holding a hand up. “Disappointed? I—please don’t think that. The stuff I said that night was …” he sighs before continuing. “You were so upset that night because you didn’t have us around and I felt so bad but also, there wasn’t anything I could do about that.”
“I …” your eyebrows knit together as you try to find the right words. “… I know that. I didn’t mean to make it feel like you had to change anything, or that it was your fault.”
“I know and—”
“Wait, please hear me out. I don’t want to ever make you think that I blame you or Jun for leaving—I-I’m so happy for you guys you don’t understand. I was just … I was bitter,” you admit. “And I was jealous of you because you get to be around my own brother more than me and … I guess I was also jealous of Jun because he gets to be around you so often too.”
You finish your confession by burying your face in your hands, face heating up as you can only imagine the look on his face. He says your name softly, and you peek up at him through the gap between your fingers.
“Hey, no, I get it. I mean, I guess I don’t exactly understand how you’re feeling but I don’t blame you either.”
“I wrote you a letter,” you blurt out, a hand digging into your pocket as it toys around with the folded paper inside. Minghao raises a brow, and you pull it out and hold it in front of him. “Right after you guys left,” you explain as he takes the paper from your hand, carefully unfolding it. “Don’t open it now! That’s … embarrassing. Just read it when I’m not here or something because I might just die out of humiliation.”
When Minghao chuckles, you feel some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. “Noted,” he murmurs, tucking it into the pocket of his sweats before turning his attention back to you with a more serious expression which has your stomach tying up in knots.
“You know how my job is. I can’t promise how often I’ll be home and when I’ll be able to make time and I know that people leaving hurt you so much and … I guess I just didn’t want to give you hope that I would be able to give you a ‘normal’ relationship, because I can’t, even though I want to. I think when I told you all that, I just—fuck—I hoped that you’d be able to focus on someone better for you.”
You want to cry and tell him that you don’t want someone ‘better,’ but choose to save those words for a different time. “T-then why’d you kiss me that night?” you ask quietly.
“I—” Minghao pauses, looking down as he searches for what he’s about to say. “I only have so much self control.”
You chew on your lip, debating if you should frown or grin at his statement. “So you—you wanted to kiss me?” Minghao responds in a heartbeat.
“Of course I did,” and then he clears his throat, “I wanted to for a while. I still do.”
Chuckling nervously, you start to say, “I don’t kn—”
The air is successfully sucked from your lungs when Minghao slides his hand around your neck, angling your jaw up with his gentle thumb. You think you might just go dizzy from the way he’s touching you until his warm mouth presses against yours, and this is the moment you feel every last muscle in your body let go.
He kisses you softer than the first time, his tongue running against your bottom lip for only a moment before you let your hand grip at his torso instinctively. “Sorry,” Minghao murmurs sheepishly when he breaks away. “Told you. Only so much self control.”
“I-I won’t complain,” you admit quickly, and though you let your hand drop to your side, Minghao keeps his where it is: cradling your cheek. He’s quiet for a moment before whispering again, and the words make your face burn and your heart fly around in circles.
“Can I kiss you again?”
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link to smut!
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“You have everything? Your tickets?” you ask as you lean against the doorframe. You’re both standing outside your parents house right now, waiting for Jun to finish his last bit of packing (why he was so insistent on you two coming quickly when even he wasn’t ready is still a mystery to you) so you can call over the van to take them to the airport.
Minghao shrugs at you, pulling out his wallet to look through the pockets to double check. As he’s shuffling through them, a familiar piece of paper sticks out and grabs your attention. “You keep my letter in your wallet?”
Minghao nods, seemingly unbothered by your surprise. “Yeah. Where else would I keep it?”
“Well, I don’t know but—”
“It’s a cute letter!” Minghao reasons. “And I like having it with me. Like a little good luck charm.”
You press a kiss to his cheek when he says that, but continue to say, “I don’t get what’s so cute about me getting drunk and writing to you.”
“Okay that part, I don’t like. Seriously. Underage drinking is not cool,” Minghao mutters. “But the rest of the letter is pretty nice I guess,” he teases, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.
“Pretty nice?” you scoff, trying to snatch the wallet back from him to grab your letter. He swipes it away too quickly though, and you’re left pawing at his chest to try and get it back. “You don’t deserve that letter! I put my heart and soul into it!”
“Heart and soul? I think you mean you poured five shots of vodka into it.” You frown deeply, and Minghao relaxes his shoulders. “Okay I’m sorry—you know I love the letter.”
“Do I?” you huff stubbornly, looking at the ground.
Minghao traces a hand down your face and tilts your chin upwards. “C’mon look at me,” he murmurs, and you begrudgingly meet his gaze. “I love the letter.” He pecks you on the lips. “Do you believe me now?”
“You might have to kiss me one more time for that.”
Minghao grins and presses his lips on yours again, a little harder this time. “Good now?”
“Yes—you got lucky.”
“Okay good … but just for extra measures, I have something that might sweeten the deal,” Minghao tells you, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket and handing it to you. Carefully, you take it and unravel it, glancing over the words.
There’s a lot—like a lot—and Minghao’s face flushes as you skim over the paragraphs he wrote, slapping a hand over the paper. “Okay don’t read it in front of me!” he whines, and you beam because history has a tendency to repeat itself.
“Fine, fine,” you sigh, looking down at it one more time when your eyes catch a little note at the bottom.
Pursing your lips, you glance up and find Minghao watching you with wide eyes and a bright smile, and you can’t help but fling yourself into his arms. Your heart swells when you feel him wrap his hands around you rightly pulling him close as the words cast their imprint into your mind.
You’re happy. So, so, so happy.
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Yours truly, Xu Minghao (weirdo)
P.S. I love you.
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a/n. okay wow i can't believe this is done ... genuinely put so much into this fic i hope u all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! i definitely might be writing more about these two bc i loved them so much😭 i had like 2 more ideas for a smut in mind but decided not to add them but if you'd be interested in reading them, i might post them as a oneshot/bonus, so lmk what you're interested in! please reblog if u did, and let me know ur thoughts—it would mean a lot to me :3
tags. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @junhui-recs @ichorjeon (strikethrough could not be tagged)
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81folklore · 8 months
Text
heaven - OP81 - part 3
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pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)
summary: oscars girlfriend attends her first grand prix and the public get to see just how proud she is of oscar
authors note: ive honestly missed writing for oscar and priv!reader so we are back in honor of oscars FIRST EVER WIN AND INCREDIBLE SPRINT RACE!! im genuinely so proud of oscar and im honestly in shock. i also follow ZERO wag pages so i have no clue what they are like, if people actually follow them etc.
authors note 2: short-ish and sweet for OSCARS FIRST WIN?? i started writing this about 30 minutes before the sprint race so i had no clue where this was going to go but HE WON!!
part 1 part 2 masterlist
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f1wagupdates
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liked by user5, user81, user9 and 7,289 others
yn entering the paddock for the first time today! she followed shortly after oscar, spoke to some oscar/mclaren fans and handed a few who were unable to meet oscar, on his way in, some signed things she had. we absolutely love her already!!
view comments
user81: omg she’s literally the sweetest thing😭
user17: I LOVE HER ALREADY
user61: the fact that oscar fans already love her🫶🫶
user9: oh she looks so cute!!
user72: i was one of the girls she gave something too! she said she had been following behind oscar and kept an eye on anyone who he missed to give them something after he left. she was very very shy, but she made sure to speak to everyone who oscar missed and was asking us questions about us, overall she was very sweet!!
user22: this makes me love her even more😭and congrats on the signed stuff!! do you mind me asking what it was?
user72: thank you! and of course, we all got something different! i got a signed polaroid of oscar (im still in disbelief?! and it must have been one she took herself bcs i couldnt find the photo online anywhere), someone a bit down from me got what looked like a drivers card and i saw someone else get a picture of his car!
user22: A POLAROID?? oh you won😭😭
user1: i wonder if we will see her again
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 9,619 others
first qualifying in the paddock was a rollercoaster of emotions, not the result we were hoping for, expected or wanted but its ok because oscars gonna smash it tomorrow and we’ll pretend today didnt happen!!
view comments
oscarpiastri: glad you had fun🤍
oscarpiastri: my goodluck charm wasnt goodlucking today
yourusername: dont say thattt☹️ill try and be extra lucky tomorrow promise!!
oscarpiastri: i love you
yourusername: i love you more🤭
user3: the photo difference😭
user14: loved seeing you in the garage today
yourfriend3: i love you but those photos😭😭
yourusername: stoooop i was so nervous all day😭
yourfriend7: wish oscar luck from all of us back home!
oscarpiastri: 👍👍
user81: u are so cute☹️
user2: so unfair how they told oscar during the interview!!
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,182 others
changed outfits but we are ready for the sprint!!
tagged oscarpiastri
comments on this post have been limited
oscarpiastri: love you lots and lots, thank you for coming🧡
yourusername: I LOVE YOU!! and you dont have to thank me, ill always stay with you🤍🤍
f1
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liked by yourusername, mitchevans_ and 817,175 others
PIASTRI STORMS TO SPRINT POLE IN QATAR!🤩🔥
He just keeps getting better and better!
view comments
mclaren: YESSSSSS!!!👏👏👏
user6: P1ASTRI
yourusername: INCREDIBLE🤩🤩
user18: more than deserved!
user73: absolute legend
yourusername added to their story
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seen by oscarpiastri and 6,289 others
user6: AHHHHHH
user81: LOOK AT HIM GO
oscarpiastri: ☺️☺️
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 10,278 others
oh how i obsessively adore you.. today you took your first f1 pole position, hours later you became a formula one race winner (idc if it was a sprint you still won!!)
i have been on this incredible journey with you long before your first f2 race. i was by your side at your first f2 win and im still by your side now youve won in f1
i know how much this win means to you, i know how much you wanted to prove yourself to everyone and you have. you never fail to amaze me, especially coming back after the shit show that was yesterday
you are truly incredible and you are so so special🐨
i love you so much, congratulations🧡
tagged oscarpiastri
view comments
user61: WHAT IF I STARTED SOBBING
user11: THE KOALA😭😭
user72: so deserved🧡incredible drive!!
user68: the f2 race winner picture😭😭the f1 race winner picture😭😭THE SMILEY INTERVIEW PICTURE😭😭
oscarpiastri: my favorite goodluck charm🧡
oscarpiastri: thank you so much for sticking with me through it all
oscarpiastri: i appreciate you so much my love
yourusername: you are so special, lovely🩵
landonorris: usually i hate your sappy posts but ill make an exception this time..congrats mate!!
oscarpiastri: you too mate!
yourusername: knew id get you to love these posts eventually🤭
formula2: we’re so proud of our aussie🥹🐨
oscarpiastri and yourusername added to their stories
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seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 722,519 others
*text on first photo reads: my favourite thing is when i open my phone after a race and i see the photos yn sent me during the race🧡* *text on second photo reads: i love seeing my boy do what he loves*
oscar’s replies:
user52: shes so cute☹️
user12: tell me that was when you won the race and not before
user61: where can i find someone like her😭
yourusername: babyyy i didnt know youd share these😭😭
oscarpiastri: just had to show everyone how grateful i am for you🤍
user49: get yourself someone who supports you the way yn supports oscar!!
yn’s replies:
user17: oh i love you guys so much
yourfriend2: we are all so proud of oscar!!
oscarpiastri: i love you so much more than i can ever express
yourusername: osc☹️☹️ i hold so much love and adoration for you
oscarpiastri: wait when did you take this photo??
yourusername: i watched the final lap in the bathroom so i could sob in peace😭
1K notes · View notes
loving-august · 2 months
Text
practicing him for your return demonstration!!
pairings. nursing student reader x various
notes. hi hi hi! first off, I don't know on what other nursing schools would do this but I tried my best to align this on what happened in my school. every institutions are different on their ways of teaching and procedures! if you are an actual nurse and youa re reading this...I hope u enjoy hehehe
btw @uravichii your mention last time made me write this 😧 (I'm heavily inspired)
+ it's been so long that i forgot how to write. (I joined the publication club in order for my writing skills to be more improved) and !! I'm planning to be posting here and there but not like i used to post here few years ago. Especially I'm a med student— I love and hate my course with a passion ❤️
links. navigation | taglist
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IMAGINE being a nursing student and you don't have someone to demo on....
Your ever so supportive boyfriend is there to be your patient for a while until you finish your practice on the return demonstrations. it's kind of funny when you try to say out loud the greetings and pretending that you are talking to him as if he's a patient and he will snort or make fun of you. A smack on his arm whenever he makes fun of you and you would start again from the very beginning.
"Stop laughing!"
"Sorry, you're just too funny."
You pouted, you replied in an annoyed tone, "how am I supposed to finish this with you looking at me like that." His gaze became more playful. He knows that you're annoyed. "What face?"
"Like that!"
He did it again.
"I swear I hope i'll make a mistake when trying intramuscular injection with you."
He raised both of his hands in the air playfully to show his surrender yo you. "Alright, alright. I'll stop this time, I promise."
And he did kept his promise.
With your words stuttering and couple of cussing of you forgetting the definition that you memorized, you finally finished saying the procedures. And to the fun part, the actual procedure to be done on your boyfriend.
You kept in mind that you still talking to him as if it's your actual patient.
"Sir, good morning, I am y/n l/n, a nursing student. Today i'll be administering the inject to you, is that okay with you sir?"
He nodded.
You prepared your 3cc syringe with your Plain NSS to be injected to him.
"Sir, I want you to relax your muscles sir. This will be quick," you began to inject him, and it was quicker than you expected. After that, you placed a dry cotton ball to the affected area and secured it with a transpore, and you began to clean up the equipments and the trash.
You approached to him and asked, "how was it? Was my hand heavy while injecting you?"
You were worried if you have hurted him since you were just a beginner and a bit nervous when doing this kind of thing.
"Not bad, you were gentle. Although you're kind of shaking before you injected me but after that? you were smooth." He answered.
You were thankful that he allowed you to be your 'patient' for your practice. "Thank you for trusting me. It means a lot to me, you know?"
"No problem. I'm glad I could help."
You can't help but hug and peppered his face with kisses.
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© 2024 loving-august. All Rights Reserved. Do not repost. Do not plagiarize. Do not share on other platforms. Will get slapped if u do.
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621 notes · View notes
dev1lm4n · 10 months
Text
lesson one: sensitive
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ko-fi | series masterlist
pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader
summary: under several notable circumstances, mr. miller finally decided that he'd be the best teacher for your first debut into sexual activities. even when all of it is to prepare you for your successful date.
word count: 5.4k (i know.. i went a little crazy on this lol)
warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, fingering, he's kinda mean, check umbrella warning on series masterlist
notes: i had so much fun writing this! tbh this one is super filthy compared to the other one so.. forgive me 🤲 COMMENT n REBLOG if u liked it
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“I could take you home if you’d like. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t roam the street alone.”
Simon, more commonly referred to as Robotic Class Guy or French Fries, was surprisingly not half as bad as you thought he would be. He had all the height of a man but none of the bulk. From behind he could be easily spotted as someone in their late teens to early thirties, mostly blaming his horrid graphic tee and skinny jeans combo, but when he turned that face was all boy. His caramel hair flopped over his eyes in the way no office worker could get away with and on his wrist were bracelets in woven leather. 
At first, you accepted his awkward invite out of spite. 
Just to rid yourself of a certain plague festering upon your head, feasting on your brain cells so that you’d think of nothing but Mr. Miller in all his glory. Him with his tight worn-out jeans, spread open enough that you could see a naughty peak of his bulge, while he watched the soccer game. Him with his shirt off, bathing in the summer-induced moisture, while he mowed the front lawn and edged the curb. Him with his thumb parting your lips, looking at you like he’s about to consume you alive, but of course he didn’t. 
At least now that Simon came around, you’d have a new port to anchor your boat on.
“No, thanks, I’m alright. My..”
Who was Mr. Miller to you again? 
Your.. father? Absolutely not. Even if he’s taken you in as a part of the Miller family, just like how he used to say, you would feel like it’d be morbidly repulsive to deduce him to that particular role. For fuckssake, you stick a finger up your cunt every single week to the thought of him fucking you like one of his girls.
Then would a family friend be better of a word? Or should you just say that he’s a guardian of yours? But that’d be confusing, wouldn’t it? You glanced at your watch, counting the hour and minute hand as if it’d give you a revelation on how to answer Simon’s pop quiz.
“Someone promised to pick me up.”
That sure did sound ominous.
With a promise to leave a message to his cell once you’ve returned home safely, you stepped out of the quaint local restaurant. It was warm outside and you weren’t particularly fond of that. Heat has always been your mortal enemy; something about the musty scent of middle school boys’ armpits after PE class mixed in with the pungent perfumes they use to try and hide it has left you permanently traumatized. Your once-cheery mood had long evaporated along with any semblance of coolness. You tugged at the hem of your sundress, fanning yourself with your hand in a futile attempt to find relief from the stifling heat. This is hell!
Where was Mr. Miller?
Mr. Miller must've read your mind, because a honk quickly resonated. He was on the very corner of the parking lot; his large pickup truck looked hilariously out of place when compared to the array of city cars parked by his side. You swore you could see him grin from behind the shaded tint of his window, perhaps entertained at your almost too obvious annoyance. The thought made your heart jump and maybe even did a front-flip. God, you’re helpless!
As you beelined down the sidewalk and on to him, the heat seemed to intensify with every step. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, causing your hair to stick in weird shapes. You just hope that his truck’s AC works.
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“Hi.. Hi, Mr. Miller.”
“Hey, sweetheart. How was it?”
The nickname never ceased to exude so much power. ��Sweetheart’ made you feel as if a tail had grown out right from the hilt of your ass and you had no other choice than to swish it around excitedly. You propped up one leg on the washed-off gray carpet, before swinging yourself into the vehicle in one go. The door closed behind with a loud thud. As you leaned back, you cringed at the feeling of your sweat-soaked dress clinging onto your skin. You felt like some marinated beef, sticky and in need of a quick shower.
“It was alright,” you hummed.
“Alright? Now that made me all the more curious,” he grinned, nudging your side with the edge of his elbow. “Com’on now. Tell me all about it, will ya?”
“Mr. Miller, are you trying to embarrass me?”
Mr. Miller’s soothing brown eyes that were stuck on the glittering street lights came flickering over to you, as if he’s actually afraid that perhaps he’s made you uncomfortable. His shoulders squared and his jaw slackened for just a split second as he tried to grasp for any nuance you’ve just given. You then smiled at him, relieving him of his worries.
It’s a little jarring to say that you think he’s quite cute. In the same way people find puppies cute, or those strawberry-shaped trinkets. He’s a little socially-awkward in his own way. Embarrassed to ask the waitress to bring his plate back, but would be confident bullying his cock into a tight cunt. Would definitely get kooky when asked to join a parents-teacher conference, but would whisper filthy things on the internet.
“I ain’t tryna make you embarrassed,” he huffed out. “I just wanna know you’re safe.”
How nice. If only he knew why you went on dates in the first place.
“He’s alright, Mr. Miller. Kind, decently groomed, respectful,” you replied, flicking through your Twitter feed mindlessly. “Better than most college guys.”
“Did he pick you up?”
Your forehead scrunched up. “I ordered a cab.”
“Did he at least get the door for you?”
“It’s not exactly the 1900’s, is it?” you quipped back at him.
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.
“If you’re that curious, then no.”
“Well then, did he pay for dinner?”
“No, well.. I did offer for us to split it,” you reasoned.
“Well, sweetie, he’s not too respectful. Is he?”
“Yeah.. but he’s cute.”
He’s cute and you’re desperate to get over Mr. Miller. Terribly so. At first, the entire situation with having your pornstar crush be the head of your host family was hilarious, it’s a joke written by itself. But then the desires went through the roof in a matter of weeks and you’re sure that you’d actually jump him one of these days. He’s attached to the back of your mind like some ghostly presence. Everything he said and done carved at your brittle wall of determination and one day it’s all going to fall apart like broken glass. You needed to stop it from happening. 
There was a minute or so where he didn’t have anything to say. He hadn’t let go of the handbrakes either, though he appeared to be squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel tighter.
“Cute ain’t enough for a man, sweetheart.”
Mr. Miller finally pushed down the handbrakes and released the pickup truck from the small parking lot. His large hands skillfully turned the wheels to fit through the tiny gaps, guiding the vehicle towards the open road. You shut your eyes for a good minute, then you let out a weighted sigh. Almost as if you’re a deflated balloon.
The drive was going to be a long one, considering the restaurant you’re on was in the heart of the town and Mr. Miller’s humble abode was more towards the outskirts. Would he continue preaching about the importance of Southern manners and being a gentleman? Because if he did, perhaps you’d just shut him up with a kiss.
“I’m just a little nervous,” you broke the silence.
“Because of the boy?”
“Sorta, yeah. It’s my first time..”
You clicked your phone shut, stuffing it on the cup holder next to the car stick. The entire conversation was making you nauseous. You had to press on the button on your left to slide down the windows in order to take in fresh air. Through the open window, a gentle breeze tousled the top of your hair, carrying with it the familiar scent of Summer in Austin. As he drove closer into the outskirts of town, the lights gradually faded behind into a sea of twinkling stars.
“First time in what?”
“In all this,” your hand motioned the idea abstractly.
“You’ve never dated?”
An enthusiastic grin snaked its way to his lips.
“I have! But it’s not- it’s not real. It’s middle school romance. We meet each other in the hallways, hold hands and giggle about it, then go on pizza dates,” you tried to explain. “I’ve never dated properly.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” you tousled your hair in frustration. “Just because, Mr. Miller. I’m not sure either. Maybe I’m just comfortable in my own little bubble?”
“Then this boy.. What’s his name again?”
“Simon.”
“Right, Simon. Are you thinking of dating Simon properly?”
“Maybe,” you muttered.
“Maybe I could teach you,” he paused. “Well, that is if you’d like this old man to teach you old tricks.”
Your hands tightly clutched the edge of your seat. A rise of bile disturbed your throat's peace as a knot of anxiety started to form in your stomach. This is what you’re working towards.
You didn’t want to admit it, because admitting means legitimizing what you had in mind, but you were hoping for him to offer you help in any way that he felt was right. Despite your.. odd relationship with him, he was your guardian and you’ve seen the way he dealt with all Sarah’s problems with soft-spoken words and fair actions. You trusted him to help you delve into this new world of adult romance, but it’s not like you’re expecting for him to agree on it. Shit, shit, shit! You couldn’t think straight.
“Com’on then. Tell me what you’re so nervous of.”
“You’re gonna laugh at me,” you groaned.
“I’m not!”
“You are,” you persisted.
“Fine. I promise not to laugh.”
You took a deep breath. The single word sticky on the end of your tongue.
“Sex.”
The pickup truck swerved.
To your surprise, instead of howling and laughing at your lack of experience, he was quiet. Awfully so to the point where you think you’d rather have him laugh at your patheticness instead of giving you the cold shoulder. You rolled the window back up, giving him your full attention as you waited for him to do something. He looked tense; the grip he had on the steering wheel was so tight you could see the leather developing crescent-shaped marks. What was he thinking of?
“Do I.. do I have to give you the talk?”
“God, no! Mr. Miller, I’m not clueless,” you looked horrified that he even considered giving you the birds and the bees talk. “I am, but I know what happens.”
The hours you’ve spent analyzing each and every one of his videos surely made an impact on how you view sex. Perhaps not the most accurate one, since you were merely looking through a 720p video and not being present in the scene, but you knew how sex goes. How it starts, what arousal looks like, what appears to feel good and what doesn’t, and how good an orgasm looks like when induced by another person. Mr. Miller might not be aware of how much he’s taught you. Not directly, but in a cause-and-action kind of way.
“Then what are you afraid of?” he hummed.
“Making a mistake,” you muttered dejectedly. “Of it not feeling good.”
A beat passed.
“Do you..” he struggled to speak properly. “Do you want me to teach you?”
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What were you thinking! It was one thing to harbor intense, disgustingly filthy feelings towards a man who perceived you as an addition to his family, but it was another thing to act on it desperately. Your mind reeled back towards the exact moment when you agreed on his proposition. How you agreed on it instantly as if it wasn’t even a question, how you nodded your head miserably as if you were afraid that you’d miss this one chance, how you buckled your knees at the thought.
God, how pathetic can you be! You didn’t remember much after such a cathartic turn of events. All you managed to compile in that pretty little head of yours was that he took a different interchange, then slipped onto a highway towards.. whatever this place was.
It was on the outskirts of town. Opposite to where he lived. Big trees grew tall and heavy as they provided a mystique veil for the trailer house. You remembered the shade of peeling paint covering the outside, sky blue. The lanterns provided ample lighting for it to be spotted from a distance, but not enough to attract rowdy attention. Mr. Miller told you to come inside first while he secured his pickup truck properly. He mentioned a thing or two about racoons or squirrels, but you were too high off adrenaline to even notice. Being in the property, you instantly knew where you were.
This was his lair.
Where he shoots his videos, where he invites all his pretty co-stars to make them moan and whimper about how good his cock felt and how deep it went, where he edits those striking millennial-core thumbnails. Your throat grew dry and you began to think if it’s time to bail. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? Mr. Miller would just take you home and forget about it. Then, by next summer, you’d be out of his hair and he’d never even think about it.
A creak sounded from the front door. You jumped.
“Hi, sweetheart. You okay?”
You nodded. Your entire body went cold, especially the tips of your fingers and toes as you saw him come close. One step at a time. Almost as if he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t scare you too much. Mr. Miller looked awfully big up close. You never seemed to notice this entirely when you see him around the house, but when he’s confined in this miniscule trailer house, he looked massive. His presence towered over every last bit of your confidence. It’s surely crumpling - your confidence - slowly dissipating into thin when he was flushed against your chest. 
“I’m okay, Mr. Miller.”
He pulled a foldable chair from one of the open compartments, before taking a seat on it. He spread his legs, as always, and had this look in his eyes. 
“You sure you wanna do this?” he paused, before resuming. “You could tell me you don’t feel like doin’ this anymore and I could take you home. Won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t wanna.”
“I.. I want to do this, Mr. Miller.”
“Are you sure? There ain’t no pressure in this. I’m simply here to help you, sweetheart, so if you feel like-”
“I get it, okay, I get it. I trust you. A lot. And I know you’d be the best person to teach me.”
What were you even saying? This was straight out of your wildest wet dreams and perhaps that’s why you’re so adamant about it. You watched silently as he contemplated his choices. Mr. Miller scratched his beard for a short while, his gaze focused beyond you and you could almost watch in real-time how his morals and values crumbled onto the creaky floorboards. He stood up from his small chair and headed right towards where you were standing idly. Is this what May felt like in those videos?
“Alright, sweetheart. I ain’t a vocal man so this is gonna be challenging even for me,” he chuckled gruffly. “Every man has their way of settlin’ with their ladies, but I like ‘em stripped off their clothing first. So will you be a pretty thing and do that for me?”
For a second, you were as still as a rock. Entirely not used to having the person who initiated many if not all of your orgasms giving you these orders in real life. He’s right there in front of you, flesh and bones, telling you to strip off your clothing. It felt like a fever dream. You must’ve had a weird look on your face, because a grin started to form on those chapped lips of his.
Conscious of the mistake, you quickly reacted. Almost skittishly in a way as you pulled on the zipper that’s located on your right ribs. Your fingers fumbled with one another, as if it’s been braided into one, but you managed to loosen it after a few attempts. You slipped your right arm under the spaghetti straps, before you slipped the other one. The only thing holding your modesty together was your one arm that’s holding onto the support-less front flap of your sundress.
“Com’on now. It’s just me. You can act shy and adorable around Simon, but not this old man,” he teased.
You nodded, hesitantly letting your arms fall to the side. The terribly warm weather encouraged you not to wear a bra. Although you wondered if 3 PM you knew that you’re going to be engaging in some promiscuous agenda this evening. You looked up into his eyes for some kind of guidance, in which he responded with a curt nod, before you tugged on the dress so that it’d slide onto the floor.
Now the only piece of modesty you’re wearing is your plain white panties. Your breasts were entirely exposed, cold nipples firming up as it reacted to the change of temperature. This is embarrassing! Mr. Miller was being incredibly methodical in the ways in which he approached the situation, lacking sloppy mouthy kisses and feverish touches.
“Smart girl,” he complimented, almost on instinct. “Let’s get on the bed, yeah?”
You moved adjacent to him. Mr. Miller was gentle when he patted the spot next to him, allowing you to settle down properly while he fixed a pillow behind your back. To think that you’re positioned on the same bed where you’ve witnessed him please an array of girls made you feel some sort of way. A hitch in your heart, a twitch in your hole. You’ve never witnessed him this gentle. He’s always fond of establishing the power he held on the dynamic he’s presented, always telling girls what to do in quick succession and calling them humiliating names if they fail to do as told. With you, he was sweet and rather funny.
“In my experience, one of the things girls like the most is to be withdrawn from control,” he spoke up into the thick air. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cruised along your beaded nipples, or the way it watched you with feral precision. “Of course, it depends on the person. But you. I think you’re a sensitive one, are you?”
You nodded obediently.
“Cross your arms behind your back,” he ordered and watched closely as you followed suit. “Lean back onto the pillow.”
You copied his order. Only then did your finicky brain finally compute that you’re limited off your movements now. With your body weight acting like paper weight for your arms, it’d be impossible for you to react in quick time.
“Good girl.”
His mindless comment made you tighten your thighs together.
“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” he whispered gently. You could watch how he’s slowly approaching you with much caution. His arms caged you in as it dug into the tangled sheets next to you. He’s testing the currents, making sure you’re fully consenting to the experience before he makes any mistake that might ruin your perception of sex. “Ask your little friend to touch you slowly. None of that frisky aimless touching. If he pulled on your nipples and called it a day, I’d leave his ass.”
This little routine he had, the one Wicked Fantasies had, was memorized into your head and to watch it take place right in front of you made you ecstatic. He caressed the side of your face. Gently even with those big, large fingers of his, he managed to take up a good portion of your cheek. Mr. Miller then made his way to your lips. He swiped it once over your upper lip, then another time over your thicker bottom lip. You’d anticipate for him to stick his thumb in deep enough so that he could see your uvula properly, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on pressing down your tongue as if to pin it against the lower floor of your mouth. A good amount of saliva was collected that when he pulled away, a lewd string remained intact.
“Do you know why I like pinning a girl’s tongue down?” he queried to increase comfort in a way.
“No,” you whispered breathlessly. “Why?”
“It makes ‘em docile,” he muttered. “Encourages submission and I like a pretty girl who listens.”
Mr. Miller’s fingers dragged through the curves and texture of your warm skin, leaving goosebumps on his wake, before he finally reached your two perky nubs. Each one hardened before he could give them the treatment they both deserved, which in a way broke his routine, but instead of being irritated, he appeared to be pleased.
Girls in his videos weren’t as sensitive as you. They didn’t get riled up just by a little touching and teasing. Seeing you like this was a refreshing touch. One that made the wrinkles on his forehead ripple as his eyebrows quirked. He circled his calloused finger around where the pigmentation started. Once, twice. Right until he was merciful enough to press against the apex of your nipples.
You squirmed.
“So sensitive, are you?” he cooed. “Tell Simon to play with your sensitive little nipples, hm? You look like you could cum just by this.”
“O-oh please!”
“Please?”
You couldn’t respond. Not when he’s rolling the most sensitive part of your nipples between the pads of his thumb and the side of his pointer finger. Touching your breasts with your own nimble hands felt nothing like what he’s doing right now. You instinctually grinded your leaking pussy down onto the bed, almost like an animal in heat.
“Poor thing couldn’t even tell me what she wants. What would Simon think, hm? A girl with no self control like you,” he hummed. Mr. Miller quickly held onto your thighs so that you’d stop rocking onto the bed and getting off from pleasure he’s not offering. Your eyes met his, searching for help, but the sweet and respectful Mr. Miller wasn’t there anymore. “Alright now, sweetheart. You have ta make sure that you’re thoroughly aroused before thinkin’ of even touchin’ this place.”
“You’re new at this,” he hummed. His fingers slipped off the hold he had on your nipples before it slid down your stomach and settled precisely above your clothed clitoris. “It’s gonna hurt bad if you’re not properly lubricated. Sex is supposed to be fun, not painful so if some guy tells you that it’s supposed to hurt, don’t listen to his dumb shit.”
Mr. Miller was incredibly informative if you put aside the fact that he’s touching you in all the right places that it’s making you go dumb. He spent the time explaining why an action must be provided and how to perform it, when you know for a fact that this is not what he’s used to doing. Wicked Fantasies was known to be straight with words, using minimal sentences to provide his co-stars with just the right amount of information. You could tell he’s holding back the urge to be meaner, to act the way he likes, just for you to be more comfortable.
“Let’s take a look, shall we? You think I did a good job, darlin’?”
It’s dark out. There’s only one source of light that’s present in the room. A small bedside lamp in the shape of an elephant, Sarah’s favorite animal that’s grown to be yours as well. This session with him felt intimate; you’d expect for him to bring out the bright light panels and reflectors just like in those videos you watched of him, but instead, he mostly depended on the moonlight rays.
You were acutely aware of how those dark eyes of his mirrored your own. The way he studied you was unlike any other, not with an invasive intent, but rather with heed. You watched as he hooked his fingers on each side of your panties. Slowly dragging it down, only to stop to wait for you to ease your thighs upwards.
“Look at you,” he chuckled. “I’m right about you bein’ sensitive. Don’t think we need any lube when your pussy looks like this.”
By instinct, you brought your thighs together, shy that he’s observing you with such vulgar intensity. He hummed out a tone of disapproval and quickly placed his arms on both of your knees, prying the two apart as if he’s opening a stubborn can of bolognese. You bit your bottom lip, stifling the noise of embarrassment.
Anxiety bubbled up inside of you. You wondered if you looked okay down there - no other men had seen it besides him! - or if there was something strange that caused him to halt. There was a lewd string of sticky arousal pooling on the center of your panties. You silently watched as it stretched and broke as Mr. Miller pulled the thin fabric away.
“You’re soaked, sweetie,” he teased.
“Mr. Miller, that’s- that’s embarrassing..”
“You like to touch yourself, don’t you?”
Your eyes flickered towards his direction in fear. Has he discovered your incurable obsession for him and his erotic videos? That couldn’t be, could it? There’s no scientific correlation between being extremely aroused with masturbation as far as you’re aware, but the confidence he exude made you doubt yourself. Mr. Miller moved in a painfully slow tempo, taking his time to caress your inner thighs and stomach before even considering touching you where it ached. His calloused fingers felt different against your skin. It left a fiery trail in its wake.
“No, I don’t,” you lied with a breathless squeak.
“It’s okay if you like to touch yourself, y’know,” he whispered as if taunting you. “Girls who like to touch themselves understand themselves better.”
Mr. Miller finally touched you properly. His pointer finger probed against your clitoris, touching in the lightest feathery manner possible that you couldn’t have felt it if you weren’t concentrating. Your hips followed the brief source of pleasure, only to be disappointed when you notice that he wasn’t there. He pulled his finger close to his mouth and made a big show out of it. The way your arousal glistened under the pale moon rays, Mr. Miller teased you with his expressions and mannerism. He dipped the stained finger in his lips to have a good taste while keeping  eye contact.
“Please touch me.”
“What was that, sweetheart?” he hummed.
“Please touch me again. It feels go-”
You were cut off immediately when he lazily drew a perfect circle on top of your hooded clit.
“Fuck, please, please, sir.”
Ah, he liked that. He liked the new name you’ve granted him. Mr. Miller was kind enough to resume what he was doing. His finger descended down onto your throbbing hole to gather a good amount of slick before he brought it up to aid his ventures.
“The best way to feel good is controlled pleasure. It feels better to be denied than to receive boring continual pleasure, so..” he paused his movement all together. “I’m gonna teach you a little game.”
“A little game..” you sounded like you’re about to cry from his sudden withdrawal.
“Count to ten, properly. Then I’ll reward you with more. If you fail, then we gotta start from the very beginning,” he explained. His warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit. “You think you can do that, pretty girl?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll start now.”
“One, two..”
You felt how he made his laps around your nub. It was much more intense than the pleasures you’ve initiated before. Compared to rutting against a pillow, grinding against a bedpost, or laying under the tub’s running water, this felt like an entire new experience. You fought to keep still, but it’s gradually getting harder when his finger starts prodding against your tight little hole.
“Three, four. Please, Mr. Miller. Oh god,” you whimpered by accident. He didn’t like that one bit by the look he gave you. There weren’t rules and promises to this, no dynamic the two of you have agreed on, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of his disapproval. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir.”
“From the start,” he ordered.
“One, two, three..”
You could barely remember the numbers in your head despite encountering them almost every day of the week. You’re a smart girl, knows your ways around things, but being touched by Mr. Miller makes you go all dumb.
“Four, five, six..”
Your thighs began to twitch and spasm. You catched the way he pulled back the hood to your clit to get a more direct touch. It was working wonders as the sensation now is a lot more electrifying. Arousal dribbled down your twitching hole and onto the crack of your rear, wetting the sheets beneath you with the sticky clear substance.
“Seven, eight, n- nine!”
You jutted your hips out when his fingers brushed over your clit once more, the sensitive bundle of nerves extra aware of his presence, and he managed to hold you back once more. He’s forgiving. You knew he’d punish his co-stars if they couldn’t stay still like you, but he let this one slide. He continued rubbing slow, tight circles only to alter into an eight shape.
“Ten.”
The ultimatum. It has arrived, your key to heaven.
“Smart girl,” he cooed, never actually stopping. “This little hole of yours looks neglected, hm?”
“Yes, pleasepleaseplease.”
“Touch your clit slowly like I taught you,” he ordered. “You can do that can you, sweetheart?”
You nodded, distraught and ruined. With his sweet permission, you pulled one arm out from your back and rested it right above your clit. Slow and steady. Just like how he ordered. Mr. Miller on the other hand was slicking up his pointer finger with his tongue. Fuck, that looks so god damn hot.
He had pressed his sole finger deep into your warmth with no hesitation whatsoever. The combination of his calloused finger against your walls and the golden freckles inside his narrowed irises had you reaching out for his forearm. Your nails came in contact with his skin as you dug upon it, crescent shapes formed in pinkish shades atop his skin. You had to sit up as the only way you’re getting through this is by leaning on his sturdy arm.
“Oh, you like that, huh? Filthy girls like you love to get their holes filled?”
What you didn’t expect was having him press a second finger in. His one finger was thicker than what you’re used to, but two fingers? That makes you an overachiever for sure. You looked up to meet his eyes frantically. You knew he wouldn’t be kind enough to withdraw the action when his mind is already set on it, but it was worth the try. He cocked his head arrogantly as he pursued his plans. Mr. Miller’s middle finger was a tight fit. Barely able to slip past the ring of muscles. Though when he did manage to get himself in, a loud moan escaped your lips. 
“Mr. Miller. I can’t- I’ve never- never taken two fingers!”
“I know you can do it, sweetheart,” his free hand went over to run over your sweaty hair, admiring every inch of you. “You wanna please that boy, don’t you? Little Simon?”
He was skillful with his fingers, perhaps from his job requirements. Although it’s still incredible how he managed to have you squirming, yelling how you’re about to cum in a matter of seconds. All he did was switch between pumping the two in you, creating the filthiest sounds, and reaching upwards to hit that certain spot of yours. You rubbed your clit with much concentration as you followed after his thrusts.
“Mr- oh.. Mr. Miller! I’m gonna cum, sir.”
“You’re gonna do that for me?” he grinned, pushing his fingers into you as deep as they could go. He maintained a steady pace, emphasizing pressure on that spongy spot up top that you’ve never managed to reach with your stubby fingers. “Pretty girl gonna cum from my fingers?”
“Yes, yes.. sir. Please.”
“Cum for me, darlin’” he whispered. “Show me how good you can be.”
Oh god, you're in a lot of trouble.
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pinkthrone445 · 3 months
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This might be a weird request, but can you write a fic where reader is a new teacher at abbot and is like really innocent, kinda like Ms honey from Matilda for reference, and Melissa just wants to ruin her and her innocence.
This is definitely kinky so I would understand if u don’t want to write it! But if you do their sex would definitely be kinky!🤭
-Caught in the moment-
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Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Gender:Smut, very detailed Smut! Kinky
Warnings:yes! +18 Smut, Kinks
Summary:Melissa decides to show you what it was like to be with a real woman.
Hi! I love your username, it made me laugh a lot. I hope you like it, enjoy it and that it's what you expected 💞💞
Usually innocence went hand in hand with one's age, the younger one, the more innocent. But lately almost no one preserves their innocence, children from a very young age already know many things that perhaps they shouldn't, it was noticeable in their vocabulary and in their way of acting. They knew a lot about sex, drugs, and alcohol, lost their virginity at a very young age, and had almost no childhood anymore. Melissa knew all this, she saw it at school every day, especially in the slightly older students.
So accustomed to this behavior, she was surprised when you came to work at school, she never thought that the most innocent person there would end up being a teacher.
Mel loved your innocence, she actually loved disturbing it, she had so much fun making you nervous and making you stutter and blush. Barbara often called her out by telling her to stop bothering you, but as always, the redhead ignored her.
Your students called you Miss Honey because of how sweet you were to them, you always went above and beyond to protect and help them.
Many teachers loved you, but others didn't like the way you were, they thought that your innocence was just a façade...
Ava went into the teachers' room to make herself a coffee, everyone was there except you
-"What's up slackers" - she greeted everyone while grabbing her cup- "I need to know... What do you think about the new teacher?"-She whispered, looking for gossip
-"I think she's a good teacher, I haven't seen much of her classes but the kids love her for a reason" - Barbara commented truthfully
-"The other day when I was walking down the hallway I saw how she taught history to the little ones, they were so focused on her, I myself was attracted by the way she teaches and I stayed listening to her for a long time" - Jacob commented
-"Oh come on! Now that Janine is not here, the new girl is the new Janine, with her whiny voice and cheerful self... Help me here Melissa" - Ava kept insisting, trying to get some interesting comment out of them, but the redhead just shrugged her shoulders
-"I don't know, I like her" - Melissa said simply
-"Shocking" - Barbara commented, earning herself a blow to the arm from her friend.
-"Good morning my fellow pears" - You commented entering the room and everyone fell silent, especially Ava, without giving it much importance you started to make a coffee-"Anyone want more coffee?" - You offered and everyone refused, but Mel said yes and handed you her cup, which you carefully refilled and returned, the redhead brushed your hand smiling and took your wrist and brought you closer to her
-"Thank you little lamb" - Mel whispered kissing your wrist and then took a sip of her coffee humming, smiling and looking into your eyes- "Perfect and sweet like you..."-She whispered making you blush, her eyes, her smile, her lips on your wrist, everything she was was hypnotic, making it hard to take your gaze away from her. Someone coughed making you fall back into reality again
-"I made cookies, someone wants some?"-You offered to change the subject and avoid looking at the redhead, who followed your interaction with a lot of curiosity.
This wasn't the first time Mel had done that kind of thing only to see you blush and make you nervous, she did it so often that by this point others saw it as normal.
At the end of the break, you returned to your classroom with your students, who were excited to see you again.
Whenever Mel could, she would take advantage of the moment and pass by the door of your classroom just to listen to you talk to the children, conveniently your classroom was next to hers so she listened to you whenever she wanted.
-"Miss honey, a kid at lunchtime pushed me and my glasses broke" - A little boy commented to you with teary eyes just as the redhead was passing through the door, the boy was holding his glasses in his little hands and you sighed kneeling beside him with a soft expression, letting your flowery dress touch the ground, carefully you took his glasses and caressed his little face
-"I'm so sorry little one, do you know who it was?" - You asked him and he nodded-"Very well, I'll talk to their parents after school, yes?" - You whispered, and the little guy nodded again-"Would a hug make you feel better?" - The little boy nodded and you hugged him tight while he let out a few little sobs-"I'll fix your glasses right now" - You whispered hugging him and looked at the others kids-"Kids, do we have a friend who hasn't had a good day, any ideas to make him feel better?" - You asked questions and the kids started saying good ideas to help him, Mel smiled and went on her way.
At the end of the day, when almost all the children had left, you stayed at the school waiting for the parents of the child who had hit and broken your student's glasses. The aggressive kid was a few years older than your students, so he had more strength, and for some reason he had an arrogant smile as you waited for their parents.
Melissa was about to go to her car when she saw you in the driveway with the student, so she stayed next to you
-"Hi little lamb... You okay?" - She whispered and you nodded, avoiding looking her in the eye
-"Yes... I'm just waiting for his parents... That here they come" - You whispered seeing the student's parents. You tried to calmly and kindly explain the situation to them, but they were quite aggressive and defended their child at all costs, which made you understand why the boy had such an arrogant smile, he knew he wouldn't be in trouble because his parents stood up for him always
-"Look, I understand if you want to trust your son and his behavior, but many saw him push and hit one of my students and broke his glasses, I wish he would at least apologize or help the parents pay for his new glasses..."-You said, trying to make your voice as firm as possible
-"You're not going to come and tell us what to do or how to raise him"-They answered you in a bad way and you sighed
-"No one is imposing any of that on you , but if you don't start correcting and disciplining your child, he's going to get into more and more trouble... And he maybe ends up being a bad person" - You whispered without much confidence
-"Are you accusing my son of being a bad person? Who do you think you are?" - One of the parents got very angry and accused you by pushing your shoulder
-"Hey, let's calm down" - Melissa tried to diffuse the situation
-"No, that's not what I meant... I meant that if you don't discipline him he could end up being disrespectful and aggressive like you" - You didn't want to say it like that, but nerves got the words out before you could register them. And before you could correct yourself, a fist blocked your view. One of the parents had struck you with his fist over one of your eyes, stumbling you up and making you take a few steps back
-"Hey asshole!" - Melissa screamed and hit him back, standing up for you. The blow left you a little dizzy and you didn't register much more of what happened until Mel guided you to your classroom and brought an ice pack for your eye-"Are you with me litte lamb?" - she whispered putting the ice in your eye and you nodded
-"Are they gone?" - You asked sitting on a table looking at her with your good eye
-"Yes... Mr. Johnson called the police and they took care of it... It's cute how you wanted to defend your student, but we need to work on your reflexes..."-she joked and you nodded
-"Yeah... Thank you for standing up for me...and for this" - You pointed to the ice she was still holding, Mel smiled and carefully stroked your cheek
-"Don't even mention it" - She whispered and you couldn't help but smile at her, taking advantage of how close she was to admire her beauty, but the redhead frowned-"Stop looking at me like that" - Whispered
-"Why?" - You laughed
-"You look at me like a deer dazzled down by the lights of a car" - The redhead was still frowning
-"I'm dazzle by your gorgeous face..." - You whispered embarrassedly and she laughed
-"If you're going to flirt, at least do it with confidence... Do you want me to teach you? "-She joked and you jokingly shoved her
-"Maybe I don't know much about sex or that, but I know how to flirt, you just make me nervous..." - You confessed a little embarrassed
-"Do you want to learn?" - Mel whispered and stood between your legs, you looked up in confusion
-"What?" - you asked
-"If you want me to teach you, about sex... I'm sure if you know more about sex you'd be more confident to flirt with me" - she commented with an arrogant smile and you rolled your eyes
-"I don't think that fixes things, I'm shy by nature..."-You murmured looking away from her, tired of her making fun of you
-"Hey..."-Mel grabbed your jaw making you look at her-"I'm not making fun of you, I'm trying to make you understand how much I'm attracted to you...Look hon, I'm an older woman, I know what I want and like and I won't be messing around anymore, I  want you, I love how you are, but I want to ruin that innocence and make you mine, I want the most inappropriate memories to come to your head when you think of me..."-she responded making you blush more, but you were too nervous to be able to respond-"Jesus! I'm telling you all these things and you keep looking at me with that innocent face, as if I didn't notice how you look at me out of the corner of your eye or how you look at my breasts when I bend down... Please tell me this isn't just my imagination because I'm going crazy..."-Melissa whispered, setting the ice on the table, you barely smiled and kissed the tip of her nose, which confused the redhead as she didn't expect that
-"I like you... But... I've never been with a woman, I don't know how to do any of this..."-You whispered embarrassedly and the redhead laughed caressing your jaw
-"Leave it to me, you just relax and enjoy" - She whispered before kissing your lip softly and slowly. Her lips were soft and had a little cherry flavor from her lipstick, they were plump and strong, expert at kissing. A shiver ran down your head, down your spine and down your feet as her teeth brushed your lips and she took a gentle bite pulling a little, an involuntary moan escaped your lips and you blushed a lot as you listened to yourself. You knew how to kiss, you'd done it several times, but she was something unlike anything you'd tried before. Mel smiled arrogantly as she listened to you and looked into your eyes with great desire, as if with your moan you would have activated something animalistic in her. Her firm hands rested on your thighs without taking her eyes off your face
-"You know? Your dresses always drive me crazy... But your moans are something else..."-she whispered over your lips and began to kiss your jaw as her hands lifted your floral dress a little so she could caress your skin, her nails purposely scratched your legs and you moaned softly again. Her kisses on your neck, her body against yours, her hands, everything around you was Melissa, and you couldn't be happier about it.
Mel began to kiss the neckline of your dress, gently biting your breasts as her hand moved up your leg reaching for the edge of your underwear
-"Mel..."-Her name came out like a groan from your mouth, in the ears of the redhead it sounded as if the angels were singing praises to god-"We're still in school, what if someone comes?" - Your voice trembled, but not with fear, but with pleasure
-"There's no one left, there's only Mr. Johnson cleaning the classrooms, but it will take a long time for him to get here..."-She whispered and pulled your dress up to your waist, smiling at the sight of your pink underwear with small flowers-"God, I want to ruin you so bad"-She murmured in a deep voice and knelt in front of you, licking her lips as if you were a delicious dish and she was a hungry woman who hadn't eaten in months. You tried to close your legs a little so you wouldn't feel so vulnerable, but the redhead grabbed your knees avoiding it. She carefully grabbed one of your legs and began kissing it from your knee to almost your crotch, taking small bites along the way. And you just thought about how pathetic you should look trying to hold back your moans.-"I told you to relax..."-Melissa murmured against your thigh as if she could read your mind. Her free hand moved up your body to your chest and gently pushed you so that you were laying over the table, resting on your shoulders so that you wouldn't lie completely flat. Because of that position your legs spread further apart and that satisfied the redhead. With the tip of her nose, Melissa brushed and pressed her nose on your crotch over your underwear, causing you to shiver and a gasp to come out of your mouth as you let your head fall back-"That's it, relax..."-she whispered, and her nose brushed your crotch again, specially over the wet patch that had formed in your underwear. Which made her smile arrogantly when she saw how wet you were thanks to her. Gently she blew air from her mouth on where it was wet, giving you chills from how cold it felt. Her tongue traveled the same path her nose had traveled, it felt soft, the mixture of your juices with her saliva, but also the underwear generated friction against your fols and clit, which made you move your hips against her mouth, looking for more of it, more of her.
Mel pulled your underwear to the side without taking it off, coming face to face with your dripping entrance. Two of her fingers collected your juices and then spread it all over your vagina, then kept your lips open and separated. Your entrance was practically beating at this point, begging for her, for something else
-"Look at you, you don't look so innocent now little lamb..." - she whispered before burying her face between your legs. Her plump lips expertly sucked on your clit, alternating with the tip of her tongue to play with it too. At this point you were so wet that it was spreading down her chin and even wetting your desk. The redhead clawed at your legs again as her tongue penetrated you as deep as it could. At this point your moans were animalistic and desperate. You carefully rested your body on one of your hands and with the other you grabbed her hair by pulling it and pushing her face deeper and closer to you, without worrying if she could breathe or not. When the redhead's nose pressed down on your button, you started riding it on her face and it was a matter of seconds until you came on her face, letting out your loudest moan along with her name and a few insults. Without much strength you lay back completely on your desk while the redhead continued to lick your folds trying to make sure nothing went to waste. Your breathing was ragged and you felt like you were on another planet, as Melissa kissed your legs softly trying to help you come back to reality.
The moment your body reacted and you opened your eyes staring at the ceiling, your blood ran cold
-"FUCK!" - You screamed and Mel looked at you worriedly, when she followed your gaze, she saw on the ceiling a very well hidden, almost imperceptible camera, camera that had probably captured everything that had happened and that it was surely hiding and recording in Ava's office.
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disneyprincemuke · 4 months
Text
the favourite driver * ls2
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it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago
pairings: logan sargeant x platonic!femdriver
notes: hi i know i took forever to write this but uh what r u gonna do? ik u love me B)
| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship | it's nice to have a friend |
"remember!" toto calls out to you walking away. "back by half past three for his nap!"
you wave your arm in the air, hoisting little jack wolff on her hip. you look down at him. "wanna make a new friend, jack?"
the young boy nods excitedly, giggling and throwing his head back. "is it your new friend?"
"yeah! his name's logan!" you squeal, jumping up the stairs of the williams racing home. you put jack down to the floor and let him grab your hand, pushing the door open. "he's super cool! cooler than georgie, i reckon!"
his eyes light up at the thought. uncle george has always been cool in the eyes of little jack wolff – simply because he had made an effort to make sure that he thought of him that way. though susie argues that you are jack's favourite race car driver, always wearing the team shirt you gave him to sleep every other night.
you spot logan on the couch, scrolling away on his phone. "hey, i want you to meet someone!"
logan looks up at you first, eyes widening and lips stretching into a sweet smile. then he notices the smaller hand wrapped in yours. he tilts his head at the young boy hiding shyly behind your legs. "hey, buddy."
"this is little toto – jack!" you beam, stepping aside to present jack to logan. "i like babysitting him when he's in the paddocks, so i brought him here with me!"
"hi," jack says timidly, one hand on your thigh. "i'm jack."
"hey," logan hums, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "i'm logan."
"hi," he says again, slightly softer this time before settling to hide behind your legs again. he bundles up the material of your sweatpants in his hands and avoids logan's curious eyes.
logan looks up at you. you shrug. "he's a little shy," you whisper. you move to the side again and put jack by your side on the tiny blue couch. "i thought you were excited to meet my new friend?"
"i got shy," he giggles. he turns to logan with a smile. "are you also a race car driver? like uncle george?"
you poke jack's shoulder. "he's cooler than uncle george. logan's not a stinky boy man."
jack giggles. "you're not stinky?"
you spend the afternoon by the william's racing home with logan and jack, the four-year-old eventually opening up to play a game of football with him. to which, logan almost started debating with an actual kid about how he knows it as soccer.
but he dropped it, not wanting to confuse such a young child about the difference.
by the time three-thirty rolls around, jack is hugging logan's neck, cheek mushed into his shoulder with logan's arms under his body. "thanks for carrying him back for me," you whisper with a giggle. "he's getting very big and heavy."
logan grins. "he's very cute. i can see why you like him a lot."
"he's already sleeping," toto says slightly amused, hands on his hips by the doors that lead into the mercedes home. "i'm impressed."
"we played soccer," logan grins, leaning forward to transfer the sleeping kid into his father's arms.
"football," you correct logan with a pat on his shoulder. you grin at him. "i'll see you later at the driver's briefing, mate."
logan bids you goodbye, walking the other way as he readjusts his williams hoodie. toto grins at you, turning on his heel while you pull the door open. "i'm glad jack made a new friend. one more babysitter for me, yes?"
you shrug. "isn't it up to jack to decide if he likes being with logan?"
jack lifts his head, eyes half open with drool pooling at the corner of his mouth. "logan's my favourite driver."
toto gasps as jack drops his cheek on his shoulder again. "you converted him to a williams supporter!"
"no way! i'm supposed to be his favourite race car driver!"
@cashtons-wife @darleneslane
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cheonstapes · 8 months
Note
😝 omg I absolutely loved the way u wrote spider barbie!!! Thanks again so much!! 💕✨
If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like to send in another request lol. 😅 (unless there’s a limit on how many requests can be sent, I completely understand 😊)
I would like to request Miguel O’Haraxfem!Jessica rabbit inspired reader. She’s the most beautiful & generous spider woman across the multiverse, which makes sense since she’s also the most desired among the spiders. Maybe one day she’s hanging out w/ her friends (Miles, Gwen, Hobie, Pavitr, & Peter) at the spider society cafeteria when everyone in the group could be discussing their Valentine’s Day plans. Until they decide to ask her if she has a date or any upcoming plans (The spider gang not knowing she’s already married to Miguel 😂) When asked she just zones out and has flashbacks about all the multiple dates her and miguel went on throughout the multiverse, including the spicy times they shared together~ 😉
When asked again, she lets them know tht she’s already in an established relationship w/ Miguel; which makes the spider gang’s jaws drop bcuz even though miguel is a good looking guy they can’t understand how a ray of sunshine like her ended up with someone as serious and angry like Miguel 😂
The spider gang could ask: “What do u see in tht guy?!?!” 😱 Spider-reader: “He makes me laugh..😏”
Thanks again! 😊🙏🏻
miguel o'hara stars in... 'WAIT...YOU'RE ROGER RABBIT?' (°ロ°) !
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a/n ~ i absolutely love jessica rabbit, girlboss, she's so hot. TYSM for this request my love!!!! there's never a limit ( ` ω ´ ) send as many as you want bby 💗 i went a little overboard but this was so fun to write!! ALSO ITS MIGUELS BIRTHDAY!!
summary; it's valentine's day at hq, and everyone can't help but wonder why you're still single.
pairing; miguel o'hara x reader
wc; 2.3k+
cw; FLUFF!! SMUT!!, secret relationship, pining, no one can believe you n miguel are together, loss of virginity, m!masturbation, pillow fuckin, fleshlights, miguel fucks an ai you, first time, established relationship, reader is very popular, day dreaming abt miguel (real), they're just in love, nawt proofread - crying over this
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valentine’s day at hq was always fun - for you least.
every year since you joined the spider society it seemed like the gifts would multiply - what stared out as some cute cards and a couple boxes of chocolate eventually turned into bouquets of roses, teddies, gifts, and even declaration’s of love. it was all flattering, honestly. to know that so many people admired you was a great feeling, even if you can’t reciprocate - it’s the sentiment that counts. but unfortunately you were already spoken for - by none other than your own boss, your fiancé, miguel. 
having started with such a beloved reputation was one of the main reasons your husband-to-be actually avoided you at first. it was like you had your own personal fan club - spiders’ following you around where you go, people offering to by you lunch, begging miguel to put you on a mission with them, showering you with compliments. you were really irritating to him, another distraction he didn’t have the time to deal with - not that he wanted to anyway. well, that was until he did. 
gradually, he started to notice how your eyes would light up when you’d see something you like, how you’d wear that one perfume thats scent would linger a bit too long in the air, ages after you’ve already sped off down the hallway. he warmed up to you eventually, leading to you two spending a lot more time together. little dates in the different universes, him picking up a little souvenir for you on missions and you doing the same - eventually leading to you two moving in together, and then him proposing. keeping you two’s relationship a secret was a decision that you both had to make, considering how popular you were and that miguel’s your boss. so every valentine’s day, you both celebrate together privately in miguel’s nueva york condo - exchanging gifts and kisses, drinking till you fall asleep in each other’s arms. this year, however, was a little different. 
hiding a relationship isn’t the easiest thing in the word, especially at a time like this - when all you want to do is pounce on your fiancé every time you see him ’n kiss him till you’re both breathless. it was getting tiring. it’s the day of love and you can’t do the one thing the day is about, love someone. you’d both send lingering glances at each other throughout the day, sneaky touches when no one’s looking, maybe even a few quick make out sesh’s in miguel’s office. you both knew you wouldn’t make it through the rest of the day, eventually separating as you sat in the canteen with some of your spider-friends - ones miguel wasn’t very keen on eating lunch with, leading to him retreating back to his office alone. 
the table was buzzing as everyone mentioned their plans for the day - miles taking gwen to his universe on a little day out that he swears isn’t a date, pav and gayatri going to her new movie, peter and mj having someone babysit mayday so they can go on a long-overdue date, and hobie - well, he doesn’t believe in valentine’s, i guess. you so badly wanted to join in, silently chewing on your ’spider-man 2099’ themed burger. your fiancé was basically everywhere, how can you not miss him - even if he’s just a couple minutes walk from you. it was bittersweet, to say the least, to listen to your friends so passionately- 
“hey, y/n, any plans this year? please tell me you’re finally dating someone.” the sudden voice made you jump, eyes widening as you look at the culprit, a sly smile on her face. “uhhh, n-no not really.” that was a lie. the whole table groaned their complaints, all still in disbelief that you’re still not seeing anyone. “you serious? love, look at you - and look at them.” hobie gestures to the crowd forming behind the table, all of them holding some sort of gift for you - some more…extravagant than the rest. “there’s no way that you can’t find someone, babe.” i mean, technically, he was right - you could practically get anyone you wanted. but, you already got what you want, and that’s miguel. 
he’s your everything. despite the turbulent start you both had, it was all worth it in the end. miguel loves like you’re his last - which you are, and his first too - in all aspects. hearing your boss was a virgin was even more shocking then him admitting his feelings for you - cause, like, how? you tried so hard not to laugh, he couldn’t be serious. it turns out he was very, very, very serious. you felt so bad, running up to him and holding him tightly - reassuring him that is was ok, that there was nothing wrong with being a virgin no matter his age. you took it slow for the first few months, nothing more than heated kisses and a bit of groping but it never went further than that. to be honest, you were scared. miguel was nothing short of impatient to feel you, to finally sink his cock into you after centuries of you denying him of that. you knew, of course, how desperate he was - but it was a big deal to you. the thing was, you were a virgin too. it was too sudden to mention so you went with keeping it a secret, but damn was it getting harder to not give in. the thought of him leaving after fucking you was at the forefront of your mind, you obviously knew he wouldn’t - but men are still men, right?
when he did find out, it went a hell of a lot better than you expected it to. both of you deciding to take your time learning each other’s bodies, exploring new likes and dislikes, discovering new kinks, and overall - strengthening the love you both hold for each other. your first time was magical. it was exactly three years ago now, on valentines day, sprawled out on miguel’s plush, king sized bed.
“f-fhhuck, feels so good, baby. are…are you doing ok, sweetheart?”
he was so attentive, making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, constantly asking if you’re feeling alright. it couldn’t have been more perfect. miguel’s large frame engulfed you as you sat in his. lap, his body pressed against the headboard. holding you close, he guided your hips slowly against his slick cock, the stretch momentarily caused a sharp pain to run through your body - miguel soothing you with sweet, wet kisses down the side of your sweaty neck. his large hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, waist, gently kneading your ass. the room felt hot, sweat mixing together as your hips move in tandem with his own - it was a prime example of love making. breathless kisses were shared, lips slotting together sloppily as you rode him eagerly - you were such a sight on top of him, a goddess sent just for him. “mig- baby, you’re so- shit, you’re so perfect.” no, you were perfect. soft skin pressing against his solid body, tits rubbing on his - slick running down his length. your moans were like a chorus of angels singing down to him, his heart almost pounding out of his chest from the love he feels for you. 
sharing a moment like this together was a turning point in your relationship. giving each other your virginities, connecting in a way you will never experience with anyone else - you were made for each other. his hips sped up, slamming into your sore cunt as he wrapped his arms around your waist. digging his feet into the soft sheets and pulling your hot body into his, lips latching onto your jaw. you still couldn’t believe he was a virgin before he met you. the way he moved, the way his tip would hit that one spot deep by your cervix, the way his thick fingers would caress your aching nipples - he had to have had some sort of experience. but the truth was, miguel had little to no sex drive. not feeling compelled at all to even rub one off, he was too busy after all - trying to keep the multiverse in tact. that all changed when he met you. suddenly, in his 30 years of living, did he have his first wet dream - and it was about you. 
he felt like a teenager again, learning things for the first time. watching porn for the first time was something, spending hours looking for a woman who looks somewhat like you - much to the interest and concern of LYLA. this was very serious to him, knowing that he would eventually fuck you - he would spend all his free time learning how to please you properly. tutorials, articles, and just plain amateur porn were his best friends. he would practice with his pillow, even buying a fleshlight to stick between it to just make it a little bit more realistic. at one point, he felt like he completely lost it. spending months learning how to fuck you wasn’t making him feel any better, he didn’t feel like he really knew how to please you. so what did he do? he made a holographic version of you, of course!
programming it to be exactly like you, using your measurements from when he made your suit to get your body as accurate as possible. it wasn’t really you, but it was good enough. he still had to work out the kinks but he was getting there. he ditched the porn completely, using ai you to progress instead. fucking an ai isn’t as easy as you think, but it was enough to help him figure out what positions he wants you in, even what ones you’d like statistically. miguel never did end up telling you about it, keeping ai you locked away in a secret folder. he was no stranger in letting you know how obsessed he was with you, but this was just embarrassing to him - and knowing you, he would never live this down. but don’t worry, LYLA’s always here to remind him time and time again. 
miguel was never the same after he lost his virginity to you - he became insatiable. it was like a switch flipped in his brain and suddenly he was always horny for you, quickies in his office becoming daily occurrences. speaking of quickies, you could feel his cum from earlier pooling in your panties right now- 
“yn? YN! is she- is she ok?” oh…you were at lunch still. everyone at the table was staring at. you with raised brows, silently intimidating you into spilling what you were so engrossed in to the point where you missed the whole conversation. you obviously weren’t about to tell them you were just thinking of their boss fucking you into next week, like come on - think about the kids, guys. “i…i, uh- it was nothing really. sorry about that, just zoned out for a sec.” it was something, someone as a matter of fact. you might as well tell them, what’s the harm in it? you’re only gonna get absolutely bombarded by everyone and anyone in hq but that’s the least of your worries. the table had seemingly moved on, chatting about their plans again before you jumped in - “actually, i do have plans.” that certainly got their attention. all eyes were on you, even the crowd still lingering behind perked up at your comment, leaning closer to hear what you had to say. 
“me ’n miguel were just gonna stay ho-“ 
“MIGUEL?!”
gasps. that’s all you could hear. everyones jaws were dropped, blinking their eyes at you like a bunch of frogs. “what? am i not allowed to spend time with my fiancé-“
“FIANCÈ?!”
it’s like every time you spoke it got worse, the table erupting in shouts of disbelief - it was getting difficult to speak over them, the constant questions being thrown at you were overwhelming to say the least. you weren’t obligated to explain yourself, love is love - even if it’s between someone as lovely and sweet as you, and someone as moody and feral as miguel. you guys made it work and that’s all that matters! someone else had something to say on the matter though, the commotion prompting miguel to emerge out of his cave and head straight to you.
“as i was saying, he’s my fiancé, we always spend valentines together. miguel is a great guy. yeah, he’s an asshole - but you just gotta get to know him.” you’re not wrong, miguel certainly seems to agree. the table went silent, staring up at his figure looming over you. “i don’t appreciate you guys harassing my wife. now, if you have no further questions - we have plans tonight, that don’t involve people prying into our privacy.” you spun around in your seat, looking up at him sheepishly. his eyes seemed to warm up at bit, a large hand reaching out to you - one that you immediately take. he held you close to him, interlocking your fingers tightly as he addressed the table. “and…our wedding is next year. you’re all only invited ‘cause she wanted you guys there. do not disappoint her.” with that, he turns on his heels, dragging you along with him - he didn’t want to deal with them anymore, not when he had the rest of the day to spend loving you instead. 
“baby, y’sure you’re ok with everyone knowing about…us?” that was a stupid question. of course he was, you’re his - and he’s yours. “you’re about to be my wife cariño, todo el mundo necesita saber que estás fuera de los límites - ‘specially that fuckin’ fan club of yours.” he was such a big baby, pouting like that. “oh my god! you’re jealous of a bunch of kids who have a little crush on me, babe. ‘sides, i think it’s quite cute - i got so much chocolate this year-“
“throw them away, i’m getting you all that and more.”
-cariño, todo el mundo necesita saber que estás fuera de los límites - sweetheart, everyone needs to know you're off limits
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-the miguel figure on my dresser says hi!
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bleuside97 · 8 months
Text
Redemption and Regression
paring: babydaddy!jungkook x exgirlfriend!reader
summary: even after five years there is not escaping of jeon jungkook.
warnings: reader has a four year old child, reader gets kidnapped by jjk, manhandling, harsh words, profanities, a bit of angst,
genre: yandere jungkook
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"Hi mommy." A little voice called through the phone call. You hold the phone close to your ear. Relief filled your senses by hearing your son's voice. Looking both ways before crossing the empty street. "Hello mommy's baby." You replied to your son, U-Jin Y/L/N, smiling ear to ear. "How are you liking it at Grandma's house?" You asked the small boy. "I love it here, Grandma has lots of toys for me to play with and she cooked samgyupsal for dinner." You couldn't see him but you can tell that joy evident in his voice. In the background of the phone call the sound of toys clashing together. Clearly, submerged in his fun toys he stopped taking.
Your four year old baby, frequently stays at his grandparents house on nights you have to work overtime. This whole week has been filled with late shifts at the office. You are employed as a journalist, a struggling one if that, you are writing your newest article that could be your breakthrough. A female voice cuts in, "Y/n." "Hello Mom, thank you for taking U-Jin in again, I've been so busy at the office." Walking home from work alone in the dark of the night. Thankfully you're almost at home. Just a few more blocks from it. You walk through the patches of yellow lights given by the street lights, within every kilometer. A gust of wind flies past you and bites your nose and cheeks turning a bright rose color. Your cling onto your light jacket a little tighter with your free hand. It was cold but your pursed nonetheless pulling the hood over your head. Pushing your hands deeper into your jacket's pocket for warmth. You continue to walk to your destination.
"I can't neglect my responsibility as a Grandmother," She dismisses your gratitude, always selfless. You're grateful to have her in your life, the only person you trust right now. You smile gratefully, admitting, "I can't do this alone." Tears well up, clouding your vision. "I'm a struggling single mom, trying to keep my job." A compassionate sigh emanates from the other end of the phone. "Don't give up, Y/n. You've come so far from those so many years ago." Her encouraging words bring a smile to your face. The smile fades as you recall your life before five years ago. Swiftly changing the subject, you attempt to forget about it. "I'll pick up U-Jin tomorrow, it's my day off. See you then, please kiss U-Jin goodnight for me."
You conclude the call quick to tuck it in your purse. A shadow of a figure in the distance. A rather tall figure, with long brunette hair blowing in the wind. He wore a loose-fitting hoodie and baggy jeans. He walks, his gaze locked on the sidewalk ahead, his face obscured by a cap that renders him faceless in the dim light. In the midst of the crowded sidewalk, your shoulders accidentally collide. You're quick to offer an apology, but as you do, the faceless figure slowly turns to face you, and in that instant, you imprint a name on his featureless visage. A surge of instinctive fear jolts through your mind, urging your body into action. Your legs propel you into motion before rational thought can catch up.
In the darkness behind you, an iron grip suddenly clamps onto your arms, imprisoning them against your trembling frame. You instinctively struggle, desperately attempting to wriggle free from his unyielding hold, but he remains an immovable force. As fear courses through your veins, you open your mouth to scream, only to be violently yanked backward, stealing the very breath from your lungs and reducing your scream to a feeble gasp.
His fingers constrict around your waist and throat, the world narrowing to the thunderous pounding of your heart in your ears and the veins throbbing visibly in your throat. Panic surges within you, tears welling up in your eyes. Amidst the chaotic moment, your vision is reduced to a blur of blinding car headlights, the whizzing of the street, and a fraction of a car door frame as you're forcibly thrust into the passenger-side seat. Desperation fuels your efforts as you claw your nails against his arm, a frantic struggle to break free.
Having cornered you within the confines of the vehicle, your assailant steps back, allowing you a fleeting glimpse. Through your disheveled hair, the darkness, and the tears clouding your vision, you discern little more than the silhouette of a man. His head abruptly swivels in your direction, his hand lunging forward, and a noxious cloth slaps onto your face.
In your frantic struggle with all your might, you toss your head back, a desperate bid to evade him, your instincts screaming about the consequences of failure. You were forcibly shoved into the car, an unsettling sense of déjà vu washed over you, and you could have sworn that your faceless assailant wore a hauntingly familiar, triumphant grin. A haunting warning chills your soul, "I warned you, y/n, from the moment you left me, I told you I will always find you." The world dissolves into darkness as he steps back, sealing your fate with a resounding slam of the car door. Rendering you unconscious.
(Transition)
A cold shiver danced down your spine, and the chill of damp concrete beneath your scent a jolt of discomfort through her frail frame. Panic began to claw at the edges of your consciousness as her memory reluctantly unveiled the grim truth: she was trapped, imprisoned by the very person she had once called her own.
As her senses gradually sharpened, she became aware of the stale, musty air, tinged with the scent of old wood and mildew. The sound of distant water dripping echoed ominously, punctuating the silence that enveloped her. Her hands, trembling as she explored her immediate surroundings, brushed against rough walls and the coarse surface of a cot, revealing the stark minimalism of her prison. With every fleeting moment, the dreadful awareness of her predicament grew more poignant. Memories of their tumultuous history resurfaced, casting shadows on her thoughts, and the realization dawned that she was now at the mercy of her former captor. Tears welled up in her eyes as she grappled with the agonizing helplessness of her situation.
Amidst the dimly lit basement's gloom, your eyes gradually adjusted to the obscurity, revealing the harsh reality of her situation. As her disoriented senses sharpened, she could make out a silhouette lurking in the shadows. Her heart raced, and a tremor coursed through her frail form as the figure gradually materialized before her.
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a/n: it's been a minute bro ik i said that i was going to post like five days a week naaa that was a lie. it's not that easy im currently in school and im tired and doing work all the time. im exhausted but ima try to post once a week. i will try. anyways, im still on my yandere shit and i have way more coming up. i really this one and i think it's a cool story. please let me know your feedback please this is only the first part of the story and i don't want this to flop 😭 please don't make it flop I beg! i really worked hard on it it took me days to do!! there's gonna be two more chapters and smut would be included in the next chapter so...
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irisintheafterglow · 7 months
Note
hii iris!! being one of my fav writers, i was wondering if it would be okay to please request you write something halloween related between Satoru and reader while they're in a lowkey relationship and instructors at jujutsu tech? maybe he drags reader and the students on some night of shenanigans? up to u, i just love how u write and i feel you'd kill this hehe
thank u so much! have an awesome day!
life's no fun without a good scare
summary: you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?
wc: 2.6k
cw/tags: fluff and crack and crack and fluff, established relationship, swearing (a lot of it, you'll see why lol), mentions of eating, angst if you squint, co-parenting megumi AND his friends!!
note: AAAA hi!! thank you so much for the love omg :')) i hope you like this, i definitely enjoyed writing it even though i did get a tad carried away lol. GOD this was so fun to write, thank you for suggesting it
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3 thank you for your support!!
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“I’m going to eat so much candy, I’ll throw up.”
“What’re those tubs over there?”
“They’re for waterboarding Itadori,” Megumi deadpans without hesitation, clearly misrepresenting the apple bobbing game just ahead. You state his name warningly, like he was six years old again, and he mutters a half-hearted apology under his breath. “Maybe we switch out the victim for our esteemed teacher, instead.” You cover a snort with an unsuccessful cough. Even though you’d practically raised him, his jabs at Satoru never lost their humor. 
“Your suggestion will be taken into careful consideration,” you say, “though it will become more of a possibility if he continues to run on Satoru-time.” Nobara hums in agreement, kicking a stray piece of hay with her toe while you continue to progress through the general admission line to the pumpkin patch. Your fashionably-late boyfriend had sent you a very cryptic text at noon, instructing you to “pack up the kids and take them to the following address.” When you replied with a chain of question marks, he sent an infuriatingly unserious GIF that had you pinching the bridge of your nose.
“What time did he tell you?”
“5:00.” You check your phone preemptively, already anticipating the followup question. 
“And what time is it now?”
“5:20,” you sigh, sliding your card across the shelf of the ticket booth and receiving four orange wristbands in return. After slipping them onto the wrists of your three unofficial children, Itadori and Nobara immediately disappear into the crowd; Megumi, however, stays plastered to your shoulder and makes his distaste for the bustling festival known. You scan nearby groups of people for a tall idiot with white hair with no luck. If Satoru still showed up, he would have to pay for admission himself. “Let’s grab a table and find me a bottle of soju–”
“Barely twenty minutes and you’re already drinking? Since when did Shoko replace my lovely partner?” Satoru’s sing-song voice calls out from behind you, like he’d been standing with you the entire time. Despite your attempts to remain irritated at him, you can’t resist when he turns you around, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hi, gorgeous. What took you so long?”
“I assumed you were running late, like you always do,” you argue futilely, the world melting away when you catch his eyes over the rims of his sunglasses. “Is this not too overwhelming for you? Having so many energy signatures in one place?”
“I’ll be fine,” he assures you with a confident wave of his hand. “After all, I have your energy to ground me.” Your legs start to feel a bit gelatinous when you hear a very obvious throat clearing itself and suddenly remember that Megumi is still standing there. “Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my dear student?”
“Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my questionable teacher?” You burst out laughing and your boyfriend’s jaw drops in indignance, gearing up to say something just as childish. On instinct, you cover his mouth with your hand, recoiling in disgust when his tongue darts out to lick your palm. “Gross. I’m gonna find my friends.” 
“Don’t do anything dumb!” The boy waves his hand dismissively and you roll your eyes. In a different universe where he actually was the child of you and Satoru, he had his father’s sass gene. 
“He’s used to this by now, isn’t he?” Satoru chuckles and it reverberates against your body, making your head spin in lovesick circles.
“I’d imagine so, seeing as we did raise him like this,” you answer, letting him start to guide you toward whatever stand interests him first, his arm draped over your shoulders. “Do you think Yuuji and Nobara have figured it out?”
“If Megs hasn’t told them, then definitely not,” he states with utmost certainty, looking over one of the games with all the concentration of a hunting tiger. In the middle of the stall was a large pool of water, and swirling around in it were small, colorful bowls in the shape of blooming flowers. The goal, you guessed, was to land a small ball in a certain color and get a corresponding prize from the lineup hanging overhead. It was truly an enticing array of stuffed animals, too, from wolves and monkeys to dinosaurs and little princess dolls. “Which one do you want?”
“Hmm? What do you mean?” 
“Choose a prize and I’ll get it for you, guaranteed.” 
“Guaranteed? You do know these are designed to scam you, right?”
“And I am designed to do whatever you want, so take your pick.” After a moment of consideration, you point to a stuffie of a black cat wearing a pumpkin costume. “Cute choice.”
“It reminds me of Megs.” He laughs and pulls his arm back, stretching his neck from side to side and handing a few dollars to the game attendant. It was all for show and completely unnecessary, and he knew that; he also knew that his over-the-top shenanigans always made you laugh after a stressful week. Whether you knew it or not, he’d noticed you were increasingly overwhelmed by all the work from the previous days, specifically regarding training his students while he was off on an assignment. Along with completing your own missions, you were supervising the three first years and guiding them through boring paperwork, which he knew made you feel like shit. It’s why he suggested you go to the festival in the first place, to get your mind off of work and spend time with you. And, he’d be damned if he didn’t get you that fuzzy little cat on his first try. 
“Watch the master at work, sweetheart,” is the last thing he says before carefully tossing the first of three balls toward the only purple bowl in the pool. He’s the tiniest bit off, though, and he curses under his breath as it ricochets against the edge and into the water. “That was a practice shot.”
“Sure, baby, sure,” you giggle, stifling your amusement into a fist. His tongue peeks out the side of his mouth in absentminded focus and you’re sure he’s found the perfect arc when the voice of one of his students cheers from behind you. 
“You’ve got this!” Despite their well wishes, Yuuji and Nobara accidentally timed their cheers at the precise moment his fingers let go of the ball, messing up his aim even worse than the first time. They deflate in embarrassment and Megumi’s face turns red from trying not to laugh. The usual deadly aura radiating off of him increases tenfold and it makes you shiver despite the warm autumn air. “T-Third time’s the charm, sir!”
“Fucking hell, why do I even bother–”
“Satoru, that’s cheating,” you whisper, sensing him imbuing the tiniest amount of Cursed Energy into the last ball to easily manipulate its trajectory. “I can just buy the thing online; you don’t need to be doing all of this.”
“I can buy you anything online, but I also want to prove that I’m better than everyone else,” he mutters much too seriously than the situation required. “Plus, once I win that damn cat, it’ll have a nice story to go behind it.” 
“Your ego truly knows no bounds.”
“You know you love it.”
A minute later, you’re walking away from the game with the fuzzy cat in your arms and Satoru’s arrogant smirk by your side. The rest of the night is spent watching him drag his students into various inflatable obstacle courses and tumbling down the slide after they push him over the edge. In spite of all the excitement, you have to drag them to a picnic table to sit and eat; even then, the three students challenge their teacher to a funnel cake eating contest. To no one’s surprise, Yuuji wins by a landslide. 
Satoru pays for everything, of course. When someone wanders over to a game booth, he pays for their game every single time and continues to pay until they win a prize. By the end of the night, all five of you have at least one prize in your possession and Satoru’s bank account is barely affected. 
Before the fair closes, you propose a game of hide and seek in the gigantic corn maze. You and the three students would get a five minute head start, and then Satoru would enter and race to find you before you reached the other side. The first years’ eyes shine with excitement when you tell them they can use techniques as long as they don’t make a mess. You consider throwing a veil over the entire thing, just to make sure Megumi’s dogs don’t start any rumors of hellhounds in the area. 
“If the kids can use theirs, then you’re not allowed to use your technique,” Satoru concludes and you make a noise of indignation while you gameplan by the entrance of the maze. “Don’t start with me; that’s totally fair!”
“I don’t understand how that’s fair in any way,” you argue up at his ridiculously confident smirk. You wanted to slap him and make out with him at the same time, none of which would have been appropriate in present company. 
“You make portals, sweetheart. If we’re making the maze a no-fly zone and I run into one of your doorways, I’m gonna be in there for the rest of time.”
“I’ll just make simple doors!” 
“The last time you said that, I was stuck on a mountain for three hours,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, completely forgetting the three pairs of eyes watching this entire conversation. Sweetheart? Since when did he call anyone sweetheart? Nobara and Yuuji knew that you both were friends from high school, but the bickering seemed suspiciously akin to that of an old married couple. They glance at their spiky haired friend for confirmation of their theories, but he avoids their gaze and continues munching on pumpkin spice popcorn. “Alright, five minutes on the clock. Don’t let me catch you,” he smiles wickedly and you all but shove the three students into the maze. 
In a blink, Megumi summons his dogs and sends them to look for the exit. As you sprint down straightaways, Nobara intermittently sticks a few nails into the walls, essentially creating security sensors that will trigger if Satoru passes by it. It also helps establish what paths you’ve already explored and where you need to go next. In what feels like seconds, five minutes is gone and your heart drops as you see a black veil descend over the maze. The atmosphere of the maze feels electric, like wind before a storm, and you nervously laugh and urge the students to move faster. 
“So, are we ever going to talk about you and Gojo?” 
“That’s what you’re focused on right now?” You shoot back in amusement and Nobara shrugs, sending another nail into the corn with a strike of her hammer. “I don’t think this is the proper place to have this conversation!”
“So, are you two actually dating? Megumi won’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar when we ask if he knows something!”
“I think the latter shooting ominous strikes of lightning into the air is a more pressing issue!”
“Lightning strikes which, I’ll add, are increasingly getting closer!” Yuuji’s voice rises to a panicked yelp and you curse in disbelief as your group slams into another dead end, giggling from sheer fear and swatting the students to find another way. All the while, blasts of pure Cursed Energy fly upward like fireworks, illuminating the field in terrifying shades of blue and red. “Any status on the nails?”
“He just passed the third one closest to us,” Nobara reports, face slowly losing color as the most powerful sorcerer in the world hunts you down. “You can’t send Nue to stall him?”
“You think a bird is going to stop Gojo Satoru?” 
“Well, your damn dogs haven’t come back yet and we’re running out of options–” The back-and-forth is cut short by a faint howl coming from the back right corner of the maze, just a few hundred yards away. One of the dogs appears from the floor, hooking a sharp right turn that has you four stumbling to catch up to it. The howls continue, as do the strikes of lightning, while you follow the dog to what you assume is the exit. “The nails haven’t picked up his energy signature in a while,” Nobara informs you in slight relief while the howling grows closer with every step. Yuuji’s mouth breaks into a victorious grin, but you and Megumi aren’t convinced. 
“Does that mean we lost him? Or did he get lost?” 
“Something doesn’t feel right,” you mutter low enough for only Megumi to hear and he nods in agreement. “I don’t feel him anywhere.” 
“That cracking behind us is just the corn, right?” Yuuji’s voice becomes uncertain and the static in the air only becomes more palpable. You’re so close to the exit and you can tell he’s getting nearer, but something in your gut tells you that you can beat him. But, Nobara’s realization makes your blood run cold. 
“Wait, I don’t sense any of my nails anymore–” 
“Found you.”
Your throats rip a collectively brutal screech as Satoru’s voice seems to come from directly behind you, and you glance backward to only see a pair of knife-sharp blue eyes staring through the black corridor of the maze. Colorful curses of fear babble from the mouths of the students and you slam your feet even harder into the ground as you sprint for the exit. The bright lights of the pumpkin sign were in sight; you just had to make it a little farther. 
“Elephant, elephant, elephant!” Yuuji’s suggestion comes out as incoherent yelps and he tries to fire off black flashes to no avail. Megumi looks at him like he’d grown four new limbs. 
“What?!”
“Summon the fucking elephant, Fushiguro!” A nail rockets away behind you only to be immediately sent back, embedding itself in the husk by your feet. 
“I hate to break it to you, but the elephant isn’t going to do anything when–”
“When I’m already right behind you,” he whispers directly into your ear and you scream as his footsteps line up with yours and his arms snake under your legs, lifting you off the ground like you weighed no more than a cotton ball. He disappears with you into darkness, firing off a single precise attack that cuts the lights of the entire exit so that the path is pitch black. Somehow, you end up outside of the maze while the three students continue to panic inside and he gently sets you on your feet. His menacing aura disappears in a blink and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his arms holding you close by your waist. “I found you,” he says with a smile. 
“You did. I know you always do, eventually.”
“Mhmm. Did you have fun?”
“Honestly, that was the most terrifying experience of my entire existence,” you laugh, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him even closer. He chuckles warmly, ironically just as quiet as the fearful bickering of your students in the maze. You barely feel any sweat on his forehead against your shoulder and you can’t even imagine how messy you looked after running for your life. “I look like shit, don’t I?”
“You’ve never looked prettier,” he murmurs, pulling away briefly to press a kiss to your cheek. “We should probably go grab the kids.” You hum absentmindedly, vaguely making out the voices of Megumi and Yuuji trying to figure out which way to go. 
“Stay here a little longer. Let them think you’ve taken me away to your scary vampire lair, or something.”
“As you wish, sweetheart. I'll be your scary vampire anytime.”
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ssahotchnerr · 8 months
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hello my sweet! been reading your stuff a lot lately and the way you write aaron is so beautiful and real but anyway i’ll stop gushing - imagine just EXISTING with aaron. like the both of you doing your evening routines and just being happy and safe in each others prescence like UNF I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY
also also imagine him using his height to tease u like knowing you always use a particular mug so he likes putting it on the top shelf so he can tower over you and press himself against your back under the pretense of “helping” like aaron you little slut we know what you’re trying to do and its mean😠 (do it again)
anyway ily lots and i hope you’ve had a good day n stuff
- Gem💙
routine and a tease
thank you so much my sweet ily!! hehe here's a thing including alllll of that cw; suggestiveness, allusions to sex, mentions of food, aaron being a lil shit <3 wc; 1k
aaron's alarm goes off at seven, yours at seven thirty.
you're notorious for hitting snooze, several times, while aaron promptly rises at the first ring. half the time, you're convinced he even beats his alarm most days.
aaron's finished showering by the time you drag yourself out of bed. steam's still coating the bathroom mirror, the air's a bit thick with the lingering heat, and it fogs into your bedroom. as you enter, he exits, but not without giving you your first kiss of the morning. you hop in the shower next, while aaron dresses and trails out.
being the first awake, aaron has the awakening the apartment duties. he pulls the curtains open, allowing the morning light to flood in. he grabs jack's backpack off the chair at the dining room table, quickly double checks that homework was completed, and that the papers in his folder are orderly and within easy access, according to jack's lesson schedule - science is first, then math, language arts, so on - and back into his backpack it goes. he then double checks to make sure his briefcase and go-bag has everything he needs, he'll retrieve his gun and badge when he heads out later.
aaron sets both by the door, as well as your bag. he knows everything is already prepared and ready to go - you won't go to bed the night prior if it's not. you've told him many times, as not an early riser, why add a reason to rush in the morning if you can help it?
being the first awake also has its advantages, especially when it comes to a certain game aaron is fond of playing. he'll never deny himself the opportunity to poke affectionate fun at you.
and he does so for the other benefit; it does tend you rile you up.
even this, is routine.
you enter the kitchen with a yawn - you passed aaron in the hallway, where he gave you your second kiss of the day, off to jack's room to get him up and at 'em.
aaron's already brewed the coffee, and your creamer is on the counter waiting for you. all you need to do is open the cabinet to retrieve your favorite cup.
it's a mug jack painted you, at one of those pottery and art studios in the city. it was one of your birthday surprises this past year, and it's the only mug you plan on using for the rest of time. you even have a matching plate, aaron's own doing when he accompanied jack at the studio.
no matter how many times aaron pulls the stunt, your reaction is always the same. your brows crumble at the absence - at the empty spot amongst the other mugs. where you had left it the night before after unloading the dishwasher, it's no longer there. and as expected it's on the very top shelf, way out of your reach.
"aaron," you whine, loudly enough it trails out of the kitchen and down the hall.
a moment later aaron enters, a mischievous, knowing glint in his eyes. he knows that whine, but doesn't address it, naturally. "good morning darling. sleep well?"
you narrow your eyes, playfully glaring at him as your arms crossed in front of you. despite your ministrations, a smile tugs at your lips, "i did. you?"
"mhmm." he presses his lips to yours. his eyes quickly flick up to the open cabinet, right to where your mug stands, but remains purposefully oblivious.
you continue to play along. "busy day ahead?"
aaron shrugs, grabbing his mug and pouring his helping. "nothing out of the ordinary. budget meeting, there's a few reports i have to finish, the usual."
you hum in response, leaning back against the kitchen counter.
aaron takes a sip of coffee, only to hide his itching smile. "is there something wrong?"
"is there?" you mock his cheeky tone, and your eyes narrow again. "somehow, my mug isn't where i left it."
"that's strange," aaron feigns confusion, his brows furrowing as his gaze moved upward. "all the way up there? wonder how that happened."
you scoff lightly, turning back to the cupboard. you leaned up on your tiptoes as you attempted to reach for it, anticipating his next move. "yeah, i wonder."
as you expected, aaron's front is suddenly flush against your back, fully crowding you, his mouth at your ear. "lemme help." his voice is low as he reaches up, retrieving your mug with ease. his other hand lands on the spot right above your ass, daring to move lower, and causing your breath to catch in your throat.
but, aaron withdrawals his hand the second he hears the soft breath escape you, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring it into your mug himself.
mission successful, once again.
you exhale, deeply yet gently, heat filling your cheeks. it's days like these, you'll opt for iced coffee.
some rare mornings though, with jack at jess's and neither you or aaron have anywhere to be, his actions don't stop there. more often than not, the two of you don't even bother to leave the kitchen.
aaron leans up against the counter, silently watching you prepare your coffee to your liking, rather unenthusiastically at that. after your first sip, and another amused glare directed at him, you start pulling out the cereal for breakfast. aaron falls alongside you, beginning to pack jack's lunch - grabbing an uncrustable from the freezer, filling a ziploc of carrots, another of veggie straws.
again, your shared, usual routine.
you're the one to finally break the silence. "one of these days, i'm buying a step stool."
"no you won't," a laugh bursts from him as he grabs a juice box from the fridge, the loudness of it making you grin instantly. he straightens his posture as he stands back upright, a half smile, half smirk plastered on his face. "you enjoy this just as much as i do. even more."
he has you there, and from the expression your face pulls in response, he knows it. a laugh leaves him once more as he crowds you, backing you against the counter and pressing his lips to yours.
"this is the best part of the morning,'' aaron mumbles into your lips. "is it not?"
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