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highvern · 11 days

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endpoint

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst, FWB to idiots to lovers

warnings: cumshot/facial, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral sex (m & f receiving), rough sex, breath play (choking), mentions of exhibitionism, face fucking, virgin wonwoo mentions, idiots in love, edging (emotionally), impact play, sir kink (brief), alcohol consumption

Length: ~19.5k

Note: thank you to @gyuswhore my love, my life, for suffering through this with me. this fic is set in the same universe as her gyu fic for this collab so check it out (threat). also thank u @haologram and everyone else who beta'd this for me bc im sensitive. follow @camandemstudios for more fics!!! i will come back later and tag the people who commented on the teaser but rn im getting day drunk hehehe

summary: Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“What’s the difference between a proton and an electron again?”

“Shoot me in the fucking head,” Wonwoo whispers harshly.

He’s a seat over, a laptop covered in gaming stickers and a coffee cup containing a lethal amount of caffeine occupying the space atop the narrow lecture desk. It’s a feign to productivity. His screen is split between thesis notes and a countdown to a new video game release that unfortunately hits 0 in the middle of lecture.

Dr. Wagner’s intro to chemistry course isn’t difficult – freshman aside – which is why you and Wonwoo agreed to be her teaching assistants. Easy money and a way to get in her good graces come grad school application season. You’ve TA’ed the same course since sophomore year for different professors but it’s all the same; the metaphorical killing field before hopeful freshmen become cannon fodder in the real trial of will: O Chem.

“Me first,” you whisper back.

Wonwoo slumps in his chair, opening the shared drive keeping track of problem areas to touch on in lab hours, and typing “check for basic brain activity” under the class To-Do list.

Fair enough. If they can’t understand the basics this far into the semester then you two are in for a world of hurt for the next practical. You're in for a world of hurt come next study hall when half of them will complain about failing their quiz this morning despite having the answers spoon fed straight from the notes.

[09:48] You: be nice

[09:48] wonwoo: if they were smarter, id be nicer

[09:48] You: maybe they’re scared stupid

It wouldn’t be too far off. One time a freshman burst into tears while asking Wonwoo to check their practice work during lab hours. Wonwoo swears he didn’t say anything and the kid looked on the verge of a mental breakdown if the wind blew the wrong way.

[09:48] wonwoo: from what?

[09:48] You: the fact ur trying to kill them with your mind

[09:49 ]wonwoo : i wouldn’t kill them

[09:49] wonwoo: just maim or seriously injure so they dont come to class and say dumb shit

Dr. Wagner fields more questions in front of the powerpoint. More ‘dumb shit’ Wonwoo rolls his eyes at with such obvious disgust even you feel chastised. Luckily, no one can see his face from the front row besides you.

[09:49] You: you wonder why they like me more

[09:50] wonwoo: i know why they like you more

[09:50] You: oh?

Stifling an eye roll of your own you throw a glance his way as the next message comes through,

[09:50] wonwoo: nice ass

“Alright, Y/N and Wonwoo will be passing out the study guide for the next exam. We still have a few weeks so don’t worry about the back half but try and review the modules we’ve done so far and bring questions for them during study hours,” Dr. Wagner prattles off.

The gigantic stack of printouts is split in half for you and Wonwoo to disperse around the massive lecture hall. Over one hundred students sit in this lecture; the unfortunate ones who were forced to take a 9 AM course three days a week. Half look like their brain is melting out of their ears, other’s clearly haven’t paid attention at all, and a few are sound asleep. It’s Friday after all. They probably didn’t get back from their Thirsty Thursday night out until a few hours ago.

You wouldn’t even be here if Wonwoo wasn’t a built in insurance policy.

Dr. Wagner collects her things and heads towards the front exit with a cheery, “Have a good weekend!”

“There's a party at Sigma tonight,” Wonwoo shares as you both pack your own bags. The next class is already shuffling through the doors to claim their seats.

“I have work until eleven.”

“After?”

Shouldering your bag, you head towards the door where the next class is already trickling in to find their seats. “Don’t you have a tournament tomorrow?”

“I only have to be at the party for like an hour. I can come and walk you home.”

“Fine,” you nod. “But bring your laptop. I think Chan fucked up the last set of results and we need to fix them.”

It’s not unusual for Wonwoo to spend his Friday nights with you; or another night for that matter. He lives in a dingy frat house on the edge of campus with twenty other guys. It’s an act of mercy. A long standing tradition from the week before freshman year when you two were the only chemistry majors in your orientation group and that turned into a clumsy hook up at an upperclassman’s party. You didn’t know he’d be a virgin and he didn’t know your high school boyfriend dumped you less than twenty four hours before you left for college (but not before you lost your own virginity in the backseat of his car).

It’d been…not good.

Wonwoo was awkward and you were unsure. But he was sweet under the bravado; walked you home that night, pretended he wasn’t interested in the fact your roommate never moved in, leaving the suite empty. But he wasn’t a good enough actor to feign nonchalance when you invited him upstairs. Turns out sex was a lot better the second time around, in a bed that didn’t belong to an unknown upperclassman who could’ve burst in any minute.

Wonwoo isn’t your boyfriend. You’re too busy piecing together the ten year plan concocted since junior year of highschool to even think about such frilly ideas. There’s barely enough time as it is; you’ve got work, a full class schedule, TAing, and all the random clubs you’ve wiggled your way into to pad your resume.

And he’s busy too. Navigating a sports scholarship and one of the hardest majors left barely enough time for him to wipe his own ass, let alone date. Then came research hours and TAing and the fact volleyball, apparently, wasn’t just a one semester sport, there were scrimmages, workouts, and tournaments out of season.

It’s been over three years of your arrangement which works best because you don’t have to spend precious brain power deciphering if some random guy you went out with once is playing hard to get or just straight up not interested. You have Wonwoo. He’s simple.

So what you have now, friends. Who hook up. And work together. Who also happens to be applying for the same PhD program for next year. Not together but at the same time.

The application website stares back from your laptop with horror.

It’s still too early to submit any materials but it’s been highlighted in bold red in your calendar since two years ago. Everything is ready to go the second it opens—except Dr. Wagner’s recommendation. It’s the sole reason you (and Wonwoo) agreed to be her TAs this semester; she’s one of the program’s most notorious alum, her words as good as gold in securing a spot.

Someone hacks a cough and shatters the eerie silence of the library. The backtrack of sparse typing and the custodian shuffling around to have been the only company throughout your shift. No one would choose to rot at any of the weathered study tables late on a Friday night so early in the semester.

With the abundance of free time, you fixed Chan’s mistakes in his set of trials easily, no thanks to Wonwoo who still hasn’t shown up. It’s good though. Your stoichiometry homework is submitted three days before the deadline and the mountain of emails clogging your inbox from hopeless undergrads is in the single digits. Half the labs from last week are graded for Dr. Wagner’s approval, the other half can wait until Sunday night. A long weekend of sleep awaits once the clock hits eleven and you’re free to run home.

Wonwoo stumbless in five minutes before the clock runs out. His duffle for tomorrow is slung over his shoulder and he’s already dressed for bed, rumpled sweats and a hat he definitely wore to the party with high hopes to cut out early.

“You’re late,” you acknowledge, cramming your belongings back into your bag. He’s close enough to get a whiff of. “And you’re drunk.”

“I am not drunk,” he argues.

The lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips says otherwise but it isn’t an argument worth having. All you want to do is get home and pass out.

He shoulders you bag, presenting his hand when you insist you can carry it on your own. The dry warm of his palm against your cold is pleasant enough you don’t argue as you tug him towards the automatic doors.

“Have a goodnight, Mr. Lee,” you call towards the security desk.

The guard, old enough to be your grandfather, calls back, “You too, sweetheart.”

Out in the balmy night, you tug Wonwoo down the street in the direction of your apartment. Two blocks and then a right turn leaving you outside the dowdy building with hallways that constantly reek of weed and new paint smell.

A pack of freshmen girls heading somewhere, marked by their matching uniform of jeans and black tops of various coverage, crowd the sidewalk straight ahead. Someone is crying, one is on the phone, and a few others stand dumbly waiting for their next movie like zombies — all incredibly wasted. You barrel through them without acknowledgement. A few drunken bitter ‘bitch’s hit your back but you ignore them to focus on the man struggling to push through the crowd without accidentally shoulder checking any of them.

On the other side, you ask, “Have fun at the party?”

“Some pledge puked on Jihoon’s stuff,” he huffs, nose scrunching.

“May he rest in peace.”

Wonwoo sways from side to side from the weight of your bag but also whatever radioactive mix was served at the party. The stairs provide an extra challenge since the elevator has been broken for weeks but thankfully it’s a short trip to the second floor.

He presents your belongings with routine ease once the front door of your apartment looms ahead. Music from the floor above shakes the walls; hopefully you can make up for the lack of sleep tomorrow morning.

There isn’t much space inside the four walls you call home – the ‘kitchen’ which is a single counter with a stove and fridge you’re barely around to use, fifteen feet away your bed in the corner, bordered by your desk at the foot cramped with a spray of errant papers and books you’ve been too busy to deal with. The monitor doubles as a TV and finally a tiny loveseat with a broken leg replaced by a stack of hard covers completes the room.

You beeline for the bathroom to wash away the filth of a long day and Wonwoo, keeping on trend, follows into the cramped space.

“Can I help you?” you ask, shirt tossed into the bin in the corner.

Wonwoo’s shirt goes the same and then his pants after a brief struggle. “You know I sleep better when I shower.”

True.

“And I doubt you're gonna let me in your bed if I’m dirty.”

Even truer.

The water is still cold when you step in but the man glued to your back fights the worst of the chill away. Goosebumps prickle along your skin but have nothing to do with the vent that points directly into the stall (whoever designed the apartments must have had a sick sense of humor) and everything to do with Wonwoo’s mouth tracing the curve of your shoulder.

Forcing the heat blooming between your legs down to a simmer, you focus on washing up and getting into bed before it rolls into a boil and you do something stupid that’ll only leave you and Wonwoo struggling for balance.

Shower sex is a dangerous sport. Shower sex with Wonwoo has left you both with bruises. Drunken shower sex with Wonwoo will get you both killed.

Soft hums tickle your neck as you clean up. There isn’t enough room for two people to stand in the spray at once so you take turns hogging the steamy water and braving the frigid cold until the last bits of soap swirl the drain.

Even when drying off you stay in each other’s orbit until the need for clothes and sleep drive you both out of the bathroom and back into the equally cramped space of your room.

It’s not until you’re laying on the mattress, darkness snug on all sides, that you feel Wonwoo roll atop you with purpose.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo hums into your stomach, fingers crawling up your bare legs.

“That,” you inhale at the nip of his teeth on the curve of your thigh, “doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer but gives you plenty of time to brush him off while bruising your skin. You don’t. Instead you sink deeper into the blankets and let him push your shirt up until you're bare once more.

The fuzziness of alcohol lingers in his veins – just enough that he smiles into the strip of skin above your panties as you sigh and arch under the delicious weight of wandering hands and mouth at your nipple.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh and he’s up and kissing you with eager clumsiness.

A familiar prod at your core through his boxers crashes bubbles through your veins. You felt it in the bathroom but now is when you finally get to indulge with subtle grinds Wonwoo meets in his own search for friction.

“Don’t you need to be up—ugh—early tomorrow?”

He kisses you slowly, tongue dragging along your bottom lip until your mouth opens under his. It burns you from the inside out. Mindlessly you shift your legs to frame his hips better but Wonwoo kisses deeper and all you can think about is giving in to whatever scheme he’s working up to have you both naked and panting.

He leans back a fraction to speak, giving in when you chase his lips before ducking to nip at your ear and mumbling a response. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it when you snooze twenty alarms and your team hunts me down because I smothered their star player with a pillow,” you snort but heat under a squeeze of his fingers at your sides.

“Sleep when I’m done with this.”

“And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

A harsh suck at your jaw has your stomach tight. heavy and thick until need drips down your spine to coil in your gut and the emptiness between your thighs becomes unignorable. He hides pleased groans in the curve of your neck until you force a hand under the band of his underwear. Eyes opening, you watch the muscles of his back tense and flex as he rocks against you, fucking your fist greedily.

It doesn’t last long. Wonwoo gets antsy under the taunting pressure of your thumb and descends back down your body with burning lips. “Take your shirt off.”

“It’s cold,” you complain but do as he asks.

He traces your figure clad in nothing but your glasses and a soiled pair of panties; damp at the crotch from his attention and Wonwoo slips a finger under the hem to tease you that inch closure to depravity.

Wonwoo laves against the hickey on the inside of your thigh from a week ago, it’s yellowed and perfectly shaped like his mouth. It’s tender under his attention, even the gentle tracing on his nose forcing you to wince in discomfort.

He coos, kissing it before skating back to the hem of your panties, lips vibrating against your skin. “Sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

Why he brings it up now is a mystery. Or the fact he brings it up at all. Life happens. You’ve blown him off more than once for a late night in the library; no hard feelings.

“It’s fine,” you sigh as he tugs the last scrap of fabric off your body and pushes your knees up to display you like a meal.

Spreading you apart, he lands a wet kiss at your entrance before teasing with the heat of his tongue.

In a beg for sanity you twist a tight grip in his hair; a tangled mess from his drunk endeavors. Wonwoo pushes harder, drowns in your taste with enthusiasm as you moan and sigh.

“F-fuck.”

He won’t ask if it’s good. He knows it is. Nearly four years of hook ups attunes him to your pleasure, a well rehearsed routine that has you both ache in the best way.

You lose yourself in shaking breaths, feet planted to drive up into his mouth for more. He sucks your clit and nearly gets his head crushed by your thighs. It doesn’t take much and he knows it.

You chant ‘gonna cum’ in choked groans that almost die at the edge of your teeth but Wonwoo hears and takes it as permission to pull out the stops, hand at your thing with a harsh grip and fingers sinking home.

He’s memorized all the signs of your want; the wrecked echo of your throat and the sounds he pulls from you a clear tell. He flattens his tongue, holding steady as grind straight into mindless bliss. Spit pools and drips and slips down onto the sheets. Wonwoo hums praise, unintelligible but you vaguely know it’s something that’d make you blush you could hear it over the pounding in your ears.

Back arching, your vision flares white at the edges and when Wonwoo realizes what's happening he makes it last until your fist ball up and you’re floating.

Wonwoo backs down as you twitch through the tail end, sloppy kisses to your clit that could knock into another fit if he isn’t careful. But even as you tremble the only thing you want is the weight of his cock in your mouth, or inside you. You aren’t picky as long as you get to feel him cum too.

You finally manage to pry Wonwoo from between your legs with an ankle to his ribs. You’re not done with him despite the fatigue hanging around your shoulders like dead weight. He angles over top of you for a kiss that tastes too much like pussy for your liking but it’s hot knowing he’s covered in you so you push until his shoulders meet the sheets and you can claim his lap.

His dick strains through his underwear, preening when you rock back into the heat. His nostrils flare when you grab for it, stiff enough to sink onto easily.

“Oh god,” he groans, head digging back into the pillows to watch you like a goddess.

His fingers web across the tops of your thighs, a harsh grip keeping you flat as he grinds up into the wet heat of your pussy. You whimper and sigh for him; all the sounds he loves to hear. You squeeze your chest, taut nipples framed between the slants of your fingers to entice him until he reaches around and knocks you forward for the sole purpose of taking one in his mouth.

Your eyes roll back, jaw locked open, drowning in the stretch and the bite of his mouth and the hands squeezing your ass so hard it hurts. Wonwoo groans, throaty and desperate. “Gonna cum. Wanna cum in you. Holy shit.”

He gets you on your back. Too absorbed in his own end, he’s dead weight with his tongue between your lips and harsh thrusts that take him right to the edge. It gives that grit against your clit that means you’ll come too, soaked in cum and spit and sweat.

You wish he’d flip you on your front and fuck you with a hand between you shoulder blades and the other tangled in your hair. That’s the kind of fuck that’d leave you satisfied the entire weekend he’s busy but he’s running out of steam just doing this, picking up speed in his thrust, the clap of bodies filling the room.

Chanting his name like a broken record, ‘Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo’ breathy but loud enough your neighbors will leave another passive aggressive note on your door come morning, all you can think about is his cum. On you, in you. A sick part wants him to pull out and cum on your face – he hasn’t, not in a long time because priorities and responsibilities and you're usually lucky to have even five minutes alone before someone needs either of you. But you want it. God do you want it.

“Cum on my face,” you whimper. There’s drool on your lips and sweat in your hairline. Even if he doesn't, you'll need another shower anyway.

A strangled noise escapes from between his teeth at your neck. Then he’s driving forward so hard you burn; painfully so, mouth locked in a silent choke. Your orgasm rips through your insides, jagged at the edges where Wonwoo fucks himself into your guts.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, pulling away and replacing the grip of your pussy with a tight fist as he straddles your chest.

The taste of cock floods your tongue, heady and intoxicating. You get one, two drags against the stiff head and then he’s cumming, dripping his spend over your lips, then your cheek, then your glasses because he’s a sick freak. Even in the dim light from the window he twitches at the sight. You open your mouth and replace his hold, moaning as more comes to the surface. You swallow down as far as he’ll go which isn’t much in this position but it’s the thought that counts.

Wonwoo grinds to halt with an occasional kick of his hips that leaves you choking – rigid limbs locking in place until he melts with sticky satisfaction.

He’s up and off, your glasses in hand for a thorough cleaning, not even bothering to flick on any of the lights but you hear the sink running in the bathroom before he comes padding back.

“God,” you whimper in disgust. “That’s so gross.”

“You’re the one who asked for it,” Wonwoo snorts, soft passes of a damp cloth on your skin focused on getting you clean enough to sleep.

“Because it’s hot but you aim for shit.”

Wonwoo tosses the rag somewhere, flopping down and pulling you close as possible with a kiss on your forehead. “Next time I’ll aim for your hair.”

“Bitch.”

The sound of music from upstairs pulses through your head as you drift off, Wonwoo asleep on your chest, fingers laced together on the sheets beside your indecipherably intertwined bodies.

Your week is divided into a simple pattern. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays you wake bright and early to attend Dr. Wagner’s chem lecture and then stay on campus attending every other class you could find to fill the gap between your evening shift at the library. Tuesdays and Thursdays are void of responsibility until your afternoon lab with the freshman near tears while learning basic titration for four hours, followed by office hours where said freshman finally come to actually cry about their grades. Those are the nights you, Chan, Wonwoo and a handful of other lab techs work on research that carries the same threat of waterworks.

It’s there Dr. Wagner pulls you and Wonwoo aside.

“I know you both are applying to Dr. Collins lab for your PhD studies,” she starts.

Her office reflects the same disarray as her personality; warm and lived in. Papers and exams are organized in chaos, thick stacks lining her desk waiting for you and Wonwoo to enter them into the online grade book. Books, some leather, some paperback, some the glossy cover of a textbook with cracked spines and yellowing pages are crammed into the bookshelves lining the walls until they threaten to collapse from the weight. It smells like coffee, plants, and the candle she always has burning. It’s a cozy hovel overlooking the rear courtyard of the science building that resembles the sterility of a hospital.

Wonwoo occupies the other barrel chair with worn upholstery. You’ve barely seen him in the past three weeks, too busy with volunteering and working and classes while his own responsibilities keep him so exhausted it’s truly a miracle he’s even here. Dark stains ring his eyes beneath his glasses and he looks paler than usual. You’ll ask about it tonight when he comes over to work on your most recent stoichiometry project (which will be forgotten in favor of passing out during a movie while you play with his hair if history is anything to go by).

“I don’t think I’ve ever met two students who belong more in his lab,” she continues.

You try not to preen, but academic validation is a hell of a drug to caffeine addicted undergrads. Wonwoo perks up too. Three and a half years of barely being people for this moment and it’s finally in reach.

“However,” Dr. Wagner clasps her hands atop the dark wooden desk. “I’m writing only one recommendation this semester. It might seem unfair but I want to commit to the student that deserves it the most since my schedule doesn’t allow me much free time.”

It’s like being underwater. You hear her words but nothing registers, blinking rapidly in case this is a hallucination from falling asleep in the lab again.

“I know it might not be the news you hoped for but I know senior year is a lot, especially for students as involved as you all, and I thought this could alleviate some of the stress. You two are the only students I’m considering. So please, keep up the incredible work and we can talk again at the end of the semester when I have a more holistic evaluation of your progress.”

She stands to leave, snagging her purse and blowing out the candle with finality before abandoning the shit storm in your lap for whatever else she has to do on a Thursday night. Probably retell the events of the last five minutes to other professors in the department, laughing at the way you’ve turned purple from holding your breath.

“Have a good night you two! See you tomorrow!”

The office, once warm, feels hollow. You feel hollow.

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo hasn’t moved either, glued to his seat as he stares at Dr. Wagner’s now vacant chair with his mouth wide in shock.

“Did that just happen?” you scoff in disbelief. “Is she serious?”

Wonwoo collapses over his knees with his hands scrubbing at his face like he also might be hallucinating. “I needed that recommendation.”

“Well, so do I,” you argue.

“I know. This is bullshit.”

“Did Changkyun say anything like this happened last year when she wrote one for him?”

“No, all three people who asked her got one.”

“Oh, so it’s just us she hates. Great!” you throw your hands up, sinking deeper in the chair. Maybe it’ll swallow you whole and the entire ordeal will cease to exist.

“She’s probably just trying to get in our heads so we don’t slack off this semester.”

“Have we ever slacked off any semester? I’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. You’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. We’re those people.”

Since starting college, since that one night during orientation where you and Wonwoo became a ‘we’. Not in the relationship sense, but in the way two lines merge. Same path, same goals, same classes, same PhD program prospects. There was plenty you two did separately but more you did together. Neither competing, but working together.

But now that’s over.

Because only one of you can get into Dr. Collins lab, only one of you can get the recommendation, and only one of you can have what you both worked tirelessly for over the past three years.

“Listen—” you stand up and scrub at your own face. “It’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out.”

“We? Only one of us can get her recommendation. What’s there to figure out?”

Your face goes hot. He’s right. “Well, I need that recommendation.”

“So do I,” Wonwoo argues, eyes cold.

“Fine.”

That recommendation is mine.

“Fine!”

We’ll see about that.

Wonwoo stays in her office, flinching as you slam the door and flee.

The issue with fighting with Wonwoo is that as mad as both of you are, there are a million responsibilities you share that require close proximity.

Presently, it’s grading the last batch of exams. Seventy eight packets. And because Dr. Wagner doesn’t believe in convenience, it all has to be graded by the hand of two TAs running on nothing but caffeine and spite.

Which means it’s past midnight and the couch has a permanent impression of Wonwoo’s ass while you both silently fume and scratch through wrong answers with a heavy hand in red ink.

The weather reflects the atmosphere; pouring rain and thunder loud enough to shake the windows. The power has flickered in and out since the rain started but you're both too stubborn to call it quits – if there is nothing to keep you occupied then you might rip his throat out.

Wonwoo doesn’t even ask if you want more coffee before he snags your empty mug and moves to the kitchenette. You don’t look up when he sets it back down, and only grab it and take the first sip of perfectly steaming hot sweetness when he flops back on the couch without another word.

Then the power goes out again, and doesn’t come back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Using the flashlight on your phone, you search the drawers of your desk for candles. There nowhere to be found amongst the stacks of unopened sticky notes and tangled cords.

Wonwoo shuffles behind you, papers landing on the coffee table completely abandoned. “We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“I have them in here somewhere,” you bite, another handful of chargers and a stapled you’ve never used and other things you didn’t even realize you own fill the drawer. You move to the second. “There’s only a few tests left.”

“We can do them tomorrow. It can wait.”

“No,” you spit like a curse.

Whatever Wonwoo was planning to say dies on his lips. “Fine.”

His shirt lands over your head, you rip it off only to find him half naked in the dark, huddling under one of the throw blankets you keep on the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“On the couch?”

“Yep.”

“You’re too tall.”

“Well,” he draws like a pouty kid. “I don’t feel like sharing the bed with you.”

In a way it’s safer to argue about something trivial like this versus the entire reason you’ve iced each other out since that day in her office. Because at least like this, you won’t lose him. It’s stupid and petty but at least you’re speaking to each other; breaking through that wall of silence that’s been steadily growing more and more unnavigable as the inevitable draws nearer.

“Fine, then I’ll sleep on the couch and you take the bed.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. N. O.”

Fine.

It’s difficult to navigate in the dark. Your knees end up a victim to the edge of the coffee table and you trip over the edge of the rug, but you find the couch. Reaching down, you find his chest, then his shoulder. And once you’re sufficiently oriented you sit on him.

“Ow,” Wonwoo grunts as you flop down, elbow in his gut and his chin hitting your forehead. “What are you doing?”

You wedge in closer, slipping between his body and the cushions, bracing to kick him off by force if needed. “Sleeping.”

“Here?” he asks. Too aware of your plan, he turns as well, grabbing the back of the couch overhead to stay put.

“You’re too tall to sleep here.”

“And we’re both too big to sleep here together. Take the bed.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?”

“No. N.O. I believe you’re familiar with the word,” you spit.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“If you keep talking then neither of us will sleep.”

“Neither of us are gonna sleep anyway. You move too much to be comfortable like this.”

He’s right of course. Your hips already ache but if you move then he’ll find some way to pull you off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

You do the mature thing and bite him.

The muscles corded around his pec twitch under your mouth as he flinches. “What the hell was that for?”

You do it again.

“Stop.”

“Or what?” you ask, muffled in his skin as you move to leave another bite.

Wonwoo also does the mature thing and pins your wrists in one hand, maneuvering until you're sandwiched between the couch with his chest flat to your back.

“I can’t breathe like this,” you muffle into the cushions.

“Oh, how tragic.” You feel his words tickle the back of your neck rather than hear them.

Wonwoo releases your wrists pinned to your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his shirt from some stupid frat fundraiser you’d been coerced into attending, flat to your belly with soothing circles. His calf hooks over your own to tangle your bodies together. He kisses the back of your neck, a simple brush of his lips that lingers.

It’s easier to feel everything in the dark. Your annoyance and frustration forged over the past weeks melts away and all that’s left is the need to have Wonwoo close. Just like this. Where there are no deadlines, or responsibilities. Where you both can drown in each others’ presence and everything else is washed away in the heavy drops pounding the windows outside.

Here, everything is uncomplicated.

The next rumble of thunder is loud enough to send you both in the air. Unfortunately, Wonwoo drags you backwards off the couch and to the floor. You land relatively unscathed but he knocks his elbow into the coffee table.

“Are you okay?”

Wonwoo groans and curses, cradling his elbow.

“Aw, tell the doctor where it hurts,” you coo, prodding his side.

He snatches your hand and pins it to his chest but not before lacing his fingers through your own. The gentle rise of and fall of breathing and the thud of his heart reverberates down your arm and straight into your own chest where something frozen softens. “Has anyone told you you’re annoying when you’re tired?”

“Yes. You. Lots of times.”

“Good. Wanna make sure you’re aware.”

Lighting turns everything white, a quick flash highlighting the room. There and gone and leaving you more disoriented than before. Rolling over, you hook a thigh over his lap which he welcomes, tugging you closer and absorbing the proximity like second nature. You’re a glutton for warmth – Wonwoo’s warmth specifically – even in his sweater and his sweat shorts and his shirt, you still want more of him.

“We can’t sleep like this.”

You don’t want to move – laying like this, in the dark, nose dug into his chest as you twisting your fingers in his, squeezing and glowing pathetically when he squeezes back – all you want is to drown in him a little longer. Until you're forced to come up for breath.

But the sore spot between you two is still raw like a fresh bruise.

“Then sleep in the bed,” his lips drags over your knuckles as he speaks.

“No. You sleep in the bed, you’re too tall to sleep on the couch.”

“Fine.” Wonwoo jumps up from his place on the floor, grabbing your hands once again before dragging you around the coffee table towards the opposite side of the room. It’s ridiculously childish, especially in the dark where he bounces off the desk and the rug roughens the back of your legs.

He shimmies you around a corner and a cloud of laughter puffs between your lips. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping in the bed, and you’re sleeping in the bed with me.”

“What if I don’t want to sleep next to you?”

“Then I’ll cry. Like that time we watched Steel Magnolias.”

“Have mercy,” you whimper.

“Then get your ass in bed.”

Deflating like a balloon, you stand. Wonwoo keeps his hands on you the entire time, guiding you down to the mattress and covering your body with his own just in case of an escape. He bunkers down in the safety of your neck, dragging your hands to his hair, mimicking the motions he craves until you take up the action and gently comb through the tangles.

A part of you wants to cry. Preemptively mourn the end of this – whatever this is. Late nights with Wonwoo, whispering in the dark about clueless underclassmen and annoying professors. Taking turns scrolling through adoptable cats at the local rescue. Cooing over them, rolling your eyes when Wonwoo finds Pixel still listed as available for adoption, a sign to him that he’s meant to have her except he lives in a frat house. Or the nights neither of you can sleep and take a trip to the local diner and tuck yourselves away in a corner booth to watch drunk people cling to consciousness over waffles and hash browns.

There will be no more of that. Not by the time winter break comes. One of you is getting the gold ticket and the other will be up in the air with the hundreds of other people competing for the same handful of slots. And if one of you doesn't get in?

“Was that so hard?” he whispers into your collar.

When you don’t answer, he looks up at. In the cast of lighting coming through the window he’s the same Wonwoo. The one you’ve been best friends with for years now. The one who is practically glued to your side whenever possible.

The one who you’ll have to say goodbye to.

He meets your kiss lazily. Like he still thinks you have all the time in the world.

It makes the urge to cry that much worse.

The rain is gone by morning.

The room glows from the orange light of the first minutes of sunrise. Sometime in the night you rolled to your side and Wonwoo pressed tight to your back. He’s awake, drawing shapes on your hip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

“Morning.”

You hum and roll over to burrow in his chest, the crown of your head digging into his neck and away from the sun. “Morning.”

The warmth of his hands trace the curve of your back, pulling you closer; hiding his own discontent with such an early break in the tentative truce that only seems to exist in the late hours of night and earliest minutes of dawn. Days of sleep deprivation with nothing but sterile lighting in the lab leaves you both needy and vulnerable. So he hugs you tighter and sighs when you do the same.

He’s hard against your thigh. Clearly a result of biology more than need because he’s snoring against your hairline. Flashes of dreams rush forward – him beneath you, on top of you, behind you. It’s been weeks since you two last fucked. When you called him an idiot and he called you stubborn and next thing you were on the table with your legs spread for Wonwoo’s hand in a clumsy bump and grind while arguing about which one of you fucked up the biosensor callibration through gritted teeth and needy whimpers.

You’re wet. With his thigh pressed between your own the fact becomes more evident as the urge to curl into it nags.

Taking advantage of the exposed curve of skin beneath your mouth, you kiss and suck with lax intent until Wonwoo tips his chin up and gives a silent green light.

A heavy hand drags down his front, nails scratching bluntly through the fabric until it can slip beneath the waistband of his sweats and the curve of his cock sits pretty in your palm. Commando for convenience and comfort. More the latter because there’s no shot in hell he’s been getting laid lately.

His breath is sticky in his throat, vibrating beneath your teeth from thin pants as you work him through a loose fist. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Yes.”

Slouching down, your head rests on his stomach, sweatpants bunched around his thighs. The first lick sends his hips up in search of more and you eagerly supply the soft suction of your mouth; lips catching around the flared head. A hand on the back of your skull keeps your hair from interfering as he plumps against your tongue.

Eagerness fails to penetrate this moment slowed down by the greater need to drag this out. To savor every second because who knows when you’ll both stop being petty enough to just enjoy one another’s presence again.

“Might cum—fuck— don’t stop,” he grunts.

With the sun filling the room even more you’re running out of time, the warmth growing to leave sweat at the small of your back. He pushes harder into the curve of your throat and you let him, gagging wet with a lewd mix of spit and pre-cum that has you both moaning at the choked sound. Jaw slack, Wonwoo fucks your mouth with slow ruts; stomach tightening and the hand in your hair fisting tight enough you moan.

“Shit, babe—c-cumming,” he whines with a pathetic groan you’d make fun of him for later but all you can think about is the thick taste of cum and if there’s enough time for some attention between your own legs before life becomes unignorable. Not enough time for a real fuck but Wonwoo has a few tricks up his sleeve that promise satisfaction.

You bounce back down next to him and Wonwoo pounces, rolling on top of you, thing between your spread legs. He doesn’t shy away from your tongue against his teeth, dips a thumb beneath your chin and slips his tongue right along with it, sucks your lips until the swell, backing off only to bunch your shirt up. Lazy drags of his mouth on yours – not the ‘I need you’ kisses after a late night but the ‘I miss you’ ones after weeks of passive aggressive silence.

He licks down your front, goosebumps blooming from the draft as he sucks a nipple until you arch and twist a hand in his hair. You give a lax stretch and sigh while his hand slips beneath the edge of your panties.

Taking the morning for what it is, you fall into the motions until the blare of the alarm clock signals the beginning of the end.

You push away and swipe blindly at the night stand to make it stop but Wonwoo has other plans.

He pins your hips down, tongue flat to the crotch of your underwear with a pant. “Ignore it.”

“What?” You look at him and find tired eyes watching back from over the edge of your wrinkled shirt. His hair is a mess, stuck to the side of his head from sleep and your eager hands and all you want to do is comb the tangles out while he pulls your strings like a puppet master.

But you can’t.

“We’ve got class,” you gasp through a hot kiss on your clit.

A groggy groan of, “skip,” vibrates on your skin.

Fingers curling in the sheets, you grasp for disagreement only to find a moan as he pulls your hips closer and works a finger where you need it most.

“We can’t.”

“We can,” Wonwoo grunts, focusing on peppering greedy kisses to the sensitive insides of your thighs. “We’ve been early every time this semester.”

The hand not curling in your guts runs down the back of your calf, bending until it hooks over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Wonu,” you whine over the crude sounds of his mouth. You want to. God, do you want to. But you open your eyes again and they land on the stack of exams on your desk. Ungraded. Because Wonwoo said you could do them this morning. And now he wants you to skip class despite how important it is.

You close your legs only for Wonwoo to take it as a challenge, pinning your hips in place and celebrating his perceived victory with a throaty moan as he rocks against the bed.

“Stop.”

He pulls back, mouth wet and brows furrowed. “Huh?”

The alarm on your phone pings again. Swiftly silenced this time as you roll out from beneath him and land beside the mattress on unsteady feet. “We can’t skip. We have to give exams back.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he argues, flopping down into the warmth you left vacant.

The room is too bright, a clear sign your morning routine is behind. “You think now is the time to start slacking off?”

“It’s not slacking off.” Wonwoo snags his glasses. He looks more annoyed with them. “It’s a break. You clearly need one.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget it. I’m not arguing with you about stupid shit.”

“And what's stupid shit? The job we signed up for? With the professor who controls our futures?”

Wonwoo fixes his pants and rolls out of bed. On the opposite side. As far away from you as possible. “Whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

You slam the bathroom door shut with finality. When you come back out, any trace of Wonwoo is long gone.

There aren’t many people in class. A benefit of Halloweekend is the partying starts Wednesday and doesn’t stop until the following week. Even with last night's rain plenty of students are battling hangovers which leaves a third of the usual lecture attendance to witness you and Wonwoo go head to head while Dr. Wagner sits at home with a mysterious illness she announced in an email three minutes after nine AM.

The few that are there snag their papers, lips curled in disgust at the plethora of red ink spilled on white pages. Their own faults for not paying attention during lecture but maybe the scarlet gashes were a little dramatic. Wonwoo’s jaw is tight, pointedly ignoring you except to hand exams over that someone is waiting for with dread in their eyes.

You could’ve skipped. It wouldn’t even count as skipping because class is canceled and there’s no award for hauling ass at the crack of dawn when your advisor isn’t even here to see it. You could be tucked away in your apartment with him under your skin; firmly in the place between dreams and waking where you liked him best, nothing but warm skin and rough hands with his lips on your hairline and your head burrowed in his chest.

There are too many witnesses to just drop the act and wrap your arms around him from behind until he gives in. Apologize for the stupid shit he rightfully called you out on. But as your courage grows with each student’s exit, Wonwoo makes to leave before you can make use of it.

Barely an hour of fighting and it already feels like an eternity.

“Hey,” you call.

He freezes by one of the desks near the back of the room, like he’s shocked you’re even there in the first place. But he doesn’t turn around; just tilts his head so you know he’s listening even if he doesn’t want to.

“Sorry about this morning. I-I think the stress is getting to me.”

And the fact that I can’t be mad at anyone besides the universe for this incredibly shitty situation. And I miss you. Even when you’re right next to me.

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” you fidget with the strap of your bag; a million pounds heavier even without the weight of ungraded tests that Wonwoo snatched before you could divide the remaining work.

He turns around, eying you with an exasperated look. “What else should I say? You called me a slack off and implied I don’t do my job.”

“I didn’t,” you argue but it’s salt in the wound because—

“You did.”

“But—”

“It’s fine. I’ll finish grading the exams over the weekend.”

And then you're alone.

You’re alone in the study room you both usually occupy to work on the Nanochemistry project due at the end of term. The shared document has updates, the blink of his cursor mocking your from wherever he hunkered down. Away from you. The temptation to type ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again disappears once he logs out barely a minute after you logged on.

You’re alone at the circulation desk of the library through your shift, head whipping around to every squeak and cough only to find someone who isn’t Wonwoo. There’s an email from him, to Dr. Wagner with you CC’ed, about class averages and exam questions that should be thrown out.

You walk home alone. Other students in various states of dress and intoxication crowd the sidewalks, a few you recognize but they feel a million miles away.

Alone in your apartment, the two mugs from last night clean in the sink.

The good part of being alone is when you start crying, no one is there to see.

It’s near midnight and the chill of the breeze whipping down the street bites at your exposed skin. Already the should-be-condemned frat house pulses with life, the promise of a long night ahead thrumming through the symphony of drunk screams and music.

It’s not unusual for you to attend frat parties. Wonwoo’s favor guarantees free booze and a perch at the top of the staircase where underclassmen are barred from entering. But you’ll settle for watching drunk underclassman stumbling over the front lawn from one of the couches on the front porch (which are so broken in, no one sinks into the cushions – they just fall straight down until the worn springs catch them) because the inside of the house is too hot, and too crowded, and far too loud.

A hail Mary apology is the only thing on your mind. Yesterday had been the nastiest spat in recent history between you two; notwithstanding sophomore year when Jeonghan asked you for tutoring and Wonwoo insisted on helping. “Helping” meant cutting off every question Jeonghan dared ask with a series of snorts and huffs until you left and refused to talk to him for a week.

He’d apologized in the most Wonwoo fashion – completing your Thermodynamics assignments for the rest of the semester and before going down on you until you threatened to kick him in the head through sensitive sobs.

Wonwoo is here – somewhere. Shuffling up the past, past the line of eager party goers looking for a way in, you scan the front porch, he’s not in his usual waiting spot to whisk you upstairs where the older members hang out with better drinks and better music. Not that he would be. He doesn’t even know you considered coming to this.

Instead, poor Chan, dressed in yellow and black stripes, mans the door with pilot Jihoon by his side.

“Jihoon,” you greet, before looking at the younger man. “Speed bump.”

Chan mumbles something under his breath but lays on the ground regardless. When Wonwoo went through the same hazing you only got a few chances to enjoy the ridiculousness before he dragged you upstairs and shut you up himself.

“Can you not torment the kids?” Jihoon grunts.

“I could. But, where’s the fun in that?”

“Your boyfriend is inside. If you see Jun, tell him it’s his turn to watch the door.”

“Got it.”

Stepping over the underclassman still laying on the ground, you head inside and straight for the packed kitchen to get a drink. There’s barely any space between the hoard of bodies, forcing you to shuffle forward everytime there's a gap in the crowd; but it’s more like swimming against a rip tide.

It’s difficult to see with nothing but a few strobe lights and some strings of Christmas lights to clear the dark. One glance up towards the upper landing of the staircase is all it takes to find him right next to Mingyu. Matching costume, two bean poles standing out from the crowd of shorter men. Mingyu makes a brief nod in your direction but before you can see Wonwoo turn you’re off into the kitchen.

It’s an even tighter fit in here. A pledge pours drinks from a cooler, for a brief second you’re tempted to indulge. The last time you did, freshman year, you ended up crying in Wonwoo’s room mid-hookup. You scan the slim pickings and settle on an unopened beer. The shots you took while getting ready are already catching up.

Forced between anxious isolation and drinking, a few of your friends come up and briefly make conversation. You feign interest, eying over their heads for a familiar mop of dark hair without success.

A few guys stop to compliment your costume. They give themselves away in glazed heavily lidded stares, single minded focus on your legs. They ask what your major is, boast their status as pledges to your disinterested grimace, and move on when you finally put them out of their misery and fib about your “boyfriend” being “president or something” but “I don’t pay attention to those things,” and they all disappear significantly paler than when they first appeared.

You bite the bullet of your pride and turn to leave, only to find Wonwoo barely an inch away.

His eyes burn over your figure, the short toga covering just enough for you to avoid public indecency. Good. It’s the entire reason you wore this stupid costume in the first place. He’s a horny loser for nerdy shit and this is the best thing you could’ve worn other than one of those video game character costumes forcing your boobs in your throat and leaving you at serious risk for public indecency.

It’s not the first time you’ve wrapped yourself in barely enough fabric to constitute an outfit for the sake of his forgiveness and it probably won’t be the last.

Wonwoo pins you to the counter with his hips, hands bracketing your figure on either side. The green hat with an ‘L’ is lopsided on his head but at least he didn’t wear the fake mustache. “So, what is your costume?” he hums into the space just below your ear with a kiss.

“Guess.” You tilt your chin, cocky.

“And if I get it right?” he asks, lips at your ear.

Heart pound, you ditch the beer and reach for his hips with purpose. “Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Think of it as my apology for being a huge bitch yesterday.”

He sighs into your neck, arms tight around your waist in a loose semblance of a hug. It’s a farce. Your ass meets the counter with minor effort and Wonwoo claims the space between your legs before you can pretend to object.

He still hasn’t kissed you.

You want more than kisses. You want to feel him, all of him. Want to drag him to the living room serving as a makeshift dance floor and sink into the heat of his body pressed flat against your own for everyone to see. You want to pull him into that closet off the main hall, familiar from that hot night of freshman year when a drunk make out turned into a timid fingering and eventually Wonwoo handing over his first time on a silver platter. Or even run back to your apartment, pluck through the leftover Halloween candy you bought on discount and watch whatever horror movie has become his recent obsession. You just want him.

“Mingyu thought you were Socrates.”

Pressed this close on the sticky counter, his body is the only thing protecting what little of your dignity is left. Even then, there's enough of the slippery warmth of alcohol to tempt you into rutting against him right here for those stupid pledges to see. “Mingyu is an idiot.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “The rubber chicken gave it away.”

You shake it at eye level. “Behold, man.”

“Lame,” his kissing gets bold down the shaft of your neck, teeth scraping your collarbone.

“Oh please, I feel your boner.”

He doesn’t resist you when you nuzzle along the bare parts of his neck, a tease of soft kissing usually reserved for quiet moments tucked away in your apartment. Even in the chaos of the party, body heat turning the air uncomfortably warm, you crave more of his closeness.

His hands feel nice on your legs. None of the timid gentleness of years prior when he’d touch you like it’d burn if he wanted it too much; trailing higher and higher but never under the short hem of the bedsheet turned dress. His fingers flex into the muscle at the outside of your thigh, hook behind your knees and drag you to the edge of the counter.

You're sweating through your own skin when he kisses you.

The need in your gut blooms at full force. Your mouth loosens, welcoming his tongue and teeth and whatever else he’s generous enough to give while you tug at the loose fabric around his hips to force more close proximity; the zipper of his pants is hot against your core and if you fucked him right here it wouldn’t look that different than the PG-13 make out happening right now.

“Wanna show me your room?” You blink like some moony eyed freshman, glassy, pupils blown from vivid images of all the possibilities in the solitude upstairs. Wonwoo is fine with the game of whatever your apology entails even if it means you throw cheesy lines like that.

He ushers you off the counter, flat to your back as he pushes through the crowd with you ahead. Even in a drunken haze people part out of his way because of the mastery of resting bitch face only he seems to have despite the complaint putty that lies behind it. A private smile splits your lips. He can’t be that mad. Not with how he pulls you closer, in the protective way he so often does in the buzz of a single minded crowd with more alcohol in their veins than blood.

Mingyu is standing on the landing. Girls in scraps of fabric eye him up and down, even in his stupid costume with the mustache but he ignores them in favor of pouting straight into a red cup.

“Why is your boyfriend moping?”

“Fuck if I know.” Wonwoo focuses on sucking another bruise on your neck like no one's watching.

You’re loose enough not to care about Mingyu’s annoyance as Wonwoo ushers you by. “Cheer up buttercup, I’m sure there’s a Peach here into charity fucks!”

It’s meant to be encouraging, but Mingyu looks like he’s torn between strangling you and throwing himself over the banister.

Maybe you did lie about being Wonwoo’s girlfriend, but he is president and his room is the biggest and furthest away from chaos. Up on the top floor where the music isn’t as loud and the only people on this floor are other members and their guests for the night.

Wonwoo pushes you inside, kicking the door shut loud enough you wince before crowding you against the wood. You throw his hat away somewhere into the darkness, hand twisted in his hair as he kisses you. Sloppy and gross until he rocks into the softness of your stomach, gasoline on the flame.

“Turn around.”

He barely gives you enough space to do so, pressing you flat once again, cheek squished to the door and a rough pull at your waist.

“If you’re thinking about touching my asshole, don’t. I have shit to do tomorrow,” you warn.

On the other side of the door you hear footsteps but they pass by without stopping.

“Noted, but not what I’m going for,” he jokes.

Your skirt flips up and a draft against the damp crotch of your panties sends a tremor straight through your core. “Share with the class.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m shaking in my toga.”

“And you call me a loser.”

“I can call you some other things,” you grit, pushing back into the heat of his covered cock. “They aren’t as nice though.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take your panties off.”

He’s a little bit of a freak. Sometimes he enjoys fucking you in nothing but your underwear and others he wants you in everything but. Maybe because of how this entire thing started; when you wouldn’t even take your bra off and he survived on the barest flash of nipple.

The flimsy soiled fabric barely passes your knees before he’s on you again, easily tempted by the arch of your spine. You hum content as he presses a finger into your cunt, then two. His other hand forces the neckline of your dress down and lo-and-behold your lack of bra delights like you knew it would.

Whatever bright idea that fluttered in Wonwoo’s brain is forgotten as he spins you back around for an eyeful of naked skin; a mouthful of your chest and your leg hooked around his hip for a pathetic dry hump into the heel of his hand.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan with extra emphasis and a caved stomach because there’s teeth and he makes it hurt. “Kiss me.”

Another rut into your thigh and his teeth are back at your bottom lip. It’s not exactly what you anticipated when you showed up tonight but there are far worse places than having a doorknob in your back while Wonwoo leaves a hickey below your ear; a perfectly good bed ten feet away but neither of you can be bothered to move much more than forcing Wonwoo’s pants down enough his cock leaks in your grip, head nestled at your entrance.

You surprise him by sinking to your knees. Head tipped back against the door, you tilt your mouth open to welcome him on your tongue. Wonwoo stares down at you; tits out, hand between your legs as you suck his cock in quick motions until he takes over and fucks into the curve of your throat.

“Holy s-shit,” he hisses and you flatten your tongue to help him along. It feels good; seeing him reduced to so little just from the wet suck of your mouth on him.

A choked gag forces Wonwoo back into his body, hips curving away so you can swallow air before leaving a sloppy kiss on the tip. Seizing him in a tight grip, you use the spit to jerk him off until he cringes with another pathetic moan.

Someone giggles in the hallway, close enough you both hear. They’re far enough away you can still whisper to Wonwoo. “Remember that time we fucked in here last year?”

“When you almost got us killed?”

Last year, at the same party, when you showed up in a skin tight Shego costume, Wonwoo pulled you to the only available room: Seungcheol’s. It’d been hot. Fucking when you aren’t supposed to, having Seungcheol pound at the door while Wonwoo came down your throat (no condoms and no hope to clean up).

“Do it again.”

His hand creeps into a loose collar around the base of your throat. You keep rubbing between your legs, working up a slick slide until your nails dig into the skin of his thighs.

“Really?” There’s no need for muffling the noise when it's his room and the only people at risk of hearing anything have done far worse. He pulls you to your feet, forces your cheek against the door and slides right behind you. Like he was made for you.

“Choke me,” you gasp before digging into the sick part of your brain that likes seeing him strung out, extra breathy just to see his eyes go wide. “Sir.”

Your skin sticks to the door, shamefully squeezed as he drags his cock through the mess of your pussy. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—”

“Because what?” you goad. “Gonna punish me?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Show up wearing this,” he grits, tugging at the white fabric bunched around your waist, using the hand on your throat to squeeze your cheeks tight with authority you drool for. “Asking to be choked and now you probably want me to spank you and call you a good girl.”

You grunt through the raw thrust at your gut, sending your head back from sheer enthusiasm. “N–not my fault you fuck me so good.”

Wonwoo almost can’t control himself, hearing nothing but praise fall from your mouth as he fucks you limp against the door. “God.”

Someone screams, “Leave room for Jesus!” from the other side of the door and you almost rip it open to kill them if Wonwoo wasn’t dragging you to the bed.

He folds you onto your front, both standing at the foot of the bed. A deep roll of his hips and you’re filled completely.

“O-oh, fuck me,” you moan, uncaring if the idiot outside the door is still listening. Wonwoo has a hell of a hand and puts it to use against the curve of your ass. The coil in your gut pulls taunt as he delivers one after another.

He fucks deeper, a the hand not burn against your bottom between your shoulders. “You look so good— ah —taking my cock like this.” His voice waivers with the same stunted rhythm of his hips.

“W-want,” you choke on spit, drooling into the comforter. “Wanna taste you.”

The animalist need to suck both your flavors off his cock nearly sends you into a fit but Wonwoo’s there, hooking his hand back around the front of your neck with a subtle squeeze. You want the stupid dress off, you want Wonwoo’s clothes off, you want to fuck him where there’s no one around to catcall in the hallway like twelve year old boys. Want. Want. Want.

What you get is enough pressure from his fingers that your mind blanks. Wonwoo gets a tight enough squeeze on his cock that he’s forced to a grinding halt.

Then his rhythm goes deeper, harder. Course curls against the resistance of your ass until you almost collapse against the edge of the bed. His cock hits that spot like it was made for your body. “Touch yourself.”

You comply without further command. You’re wet, soaked, arousal smeared down your thighs from Wonwoo’s treatment. Your fingers bump against his length as you match the pace of his strokes. “Fuck, Wonwoo — hmmm.”

“Tell me how it feels,” he gasps like it’s his first breath in hours.

“Wet, so wet,” you croon, arching harder, joints locking. “Gonna cum. Oh my god.”

He reaches low, grabbing your hand from between your thighs and pulling it to his mouth for a taste. His tongue slides between your digits, liquid slick with a soft suction your crave on your clit.

“Beg for it.” Wonwoo bites your shoulder hard enough you cry.

Stuffing your hand back between your legs, you play with your clit clumsily. Until pink crowds the edge of your vision and it hurts. “Please, please! I need—Want it. Wanna come for you. Please, sir.”

Wonwoo strains to hear your pleas over the clap of bodies. He’s worked you near the middle of the bed, practically laying on top of you as he fucks in quick succession.

“Harder, fuck me,” you demand. “Yes, yes, y–yes!”

If you were on top you’d fall straight off, jerking tightly under Wonwoo’s weight, turning your face to greet his tongue between your teeth and mewling sensitivity. He doesn’t show mercy, continuing to fuck you through the worst of it.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, head throbbing. Wonwoo forces you back on your knees and you fight through sore muscles and sensitivity to preen under the weight behind his hips.

“Can I come in you?” he asks in a shivery breath.

You nod with closed eyes, tugging the hand around your throat to your lips and sucking his fingers like it’s a cock. He finishes with a choked breath, flooding your insides with sticky warmth you’ve never gotten used to in all the months you’ve fucked without condoms.

His breath fans against the nape of your neck, another swivel of his hips from the sensitivity. Your walls squeeze as Wonwoo pulls away.

You roll onto your back with a bounce, Wonwoo jostling you when he joins. Shoulder to shoulder, you stare up at the ceiling while catching your breath. “Do you think you’ll pop a boner when your students call you a sir next year?”

Wonwoo heaves a long breath, amusement in his voice. “I come inside you and that's the first thing you think of?”

Immediately you regret the joke. Since Dr. Wagner’s announcement weeks ago neither of you had broached on the topic of what happens after graduation. Mostly from fear. But also because it’s a long discussion you’re not exactly sure what you want out of.

“Answer the question.”

“I hope not.”

The bed shifts beneath your knees as you crowd over Wonwoo, laying with his arms behind him to keep from sinking flat. The tired lines of his face look deeper in the lamp light. He’s nothing more than a big softie that wants to cuddle half naked in his bed while you play with his hair until sleep finds its place.

“It’s our last Halloween party.”

“Wow, just like old times,” you snort. “Should I start crying? Then it’ll be just like freshman year all over.”

Wonwoo laughs, his hand snatching yours and lacing your fingers together. “You wore a bra and bunny ears freshman year so if you’re gonna whip that out too – by all means.”

“God, we were so lame,” you announce matter of factly. Crying in lingerie and animal ears in one of the supply closets downstairs all because—

“Don’t rope me into that, miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’.” Wonwoo rolls on top of you, hoping to silence whatever argument bubbling in response with a teasing press of his lips. You're still sticky with sweat and spit and cum, nipples and pussy out and the thought of his dick, limp against your thigh, makes you sensitive all over.

“That’s former miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’,” you trail off into his mouth. “And you’re one to talk. Remember the time you cried about how happy you were that we were friends.”

He bites your lip in retaliation. “I didn’t.”

“You did. I have the video from Mingyu.”

“I thought he was an idiot.”

“He is but he’s good for blackmail.”

You might consider staying the night if he keeps tracing his nose along the arch of your collarbone. But a shrill giggle and some pornographic moans ring through the walls of the neighboring room. Not the side Seungkwan occupies. Hoshi’s. And it’s only the start.

“We can’t sleep here.”

Wonwoo collapses, tugging you with him. “I can’t ditch again, I’m on pledge duty.”

“You’re hiding in your room with me.”

“Okay, technically I’m on pledge duty.”

He wouldn’t stay here if he wasn’t required. Wonwoo hates party nights, especially Halloween. Too many variables requiring all hands on deck; too many needy people demanding his presence for some issue that could’ve been handled if they used their brain to think farther than the tip of their nose. Rarely, if ever, does he sleep in his own bed when you have a perfectly good one tucked away in a private apartment without thirty other men tripping over each other.

“Well, I’m not sleeping with that.” On cue, another whimper, clearly a man’s, breaks through the tentative silence. Are they fuck against the shared wall?

Wonwoo sighs, scrubbing his face before moving for his phone. “I’ll send one of the kids to walk you.”

“Wow, a pledge escort. How thoughtful,” you sneer.

He huffs again, unwilling to start a fight that’ll leave neither of you satisfied. “Text me when you get home.”

You don’t.

There is an unspoken habit between you and Wonwoo that Sunday mornings are spent at the only reasonably priced coffee shop just near your apartment. A charming hole in the wall, with hanging shelves displaying layers of tchotchkes, paintings lining whatever free space between them, and wobbly tables with equally unbalanced chairs. It’s always packed because the coffee is decent and they have outlets. After last night, you hope he’s too exhausted to even think about showing up.

Mugs click against dark lacquered tables, the dull murmur of conversation churns over the music swelling softly through the speakers. The smell of pastries and espresso wake you enough to slide into a vacant table in the corner and set to work.

Or you would’ve if someone didn’t sit down first.

“Oh.”

Wonwoo already has a mug and a little brown bag as he looks up at where you stand dumbly.

“I can just go…sit somewhere else…” You turn to leave, except there are no other tables. Couples and groups claim every single seat except the one across from Wonwoo.

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know, probably because I’m mad at you.”

He unpacks his laptop, shaking his head. “You’re not mad at me.”

“Yes, I am,” you emphasize.

“You’re a bad liar.”

Neither of you are good at lying. Even worse at fighting. Incapable of committing to real anger when it takes all your energy to stand up straight and not fall asleep in a pile of ungraded papers and half finished assignments. Besides, you're only pouting because he passed up a night at your place to clean up pledge vomit.

You can’t tame the annoyed grin cracking your face. “Fine, I’m not that mad at you. Buy my forgiveness in the form of coffee.”

“Too much caffeine will kill you.”

“I can only hope,” you sigh, arms cradling your head against the hard wood of the table while he joins the queue at the register.

Wonwoo orders your drink and a cheesy pastry the size of your head, the smell of greasy carbs first thing in the morning softening the ice in your veins. He knows your weaknesses too well.

“Is this penance?”

“Something like that.” He tears the crispiest corner off and pops it into his mouth.

“Did you look at the study guide for Calc yet?”

Two hours later you approach the counter for a second round of coffee and snag one of the jammy tarts Wonwoo likes but rarely buys for himself. Whatever chaffs between you two melts under the constant stream of note checking; Wonwoo’s hand on your knee under the table helps too.

“If I look at this anymore, I’ll run into traffic.”

“We’ve got the Nano project that needs some work,” you suggest.

He stretches wide, a sliver of skin visible between the hem of his sweater and the band of sweat pants. “I’ve got practice in an hour. We can do it tonight when I’m done.”

You try not to stare and instead return to focusing on the screen of your laptop burning your retinas.“I’m tutoring Seungkwan.”

“After?”

“He’s gonna be a bitch and the last thing I wanna do is look at more school stuff.”

“Then no school stuff,” he decrees with finality. “I’ll bring mushroom pad thai from that place on Market.”

“Are you trying to bribe your way in?”

“Is it working?”

You hum a dismissal but watch him through your lashes. He looks good – washed in late afternoon glow, hair a mess with glasses and a sweater that hangs off his shoulders. It all screams ‘drag me to bed and nap the rest of the day’ which is trouble for you because you still want to be mad at him if only to see how fair he’s willing to go for your forgiveness.

“We can watch Yellowjackets,” he barters, packing his bag.

Another group eyes your table with hope to claim it the second it’s available. Sadly, your ass is firmly planted for the rest of the afternoon. With or without Wonwoo.

“You’re really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?”

“I cannot sleep in that house,” he deadpans. “Please take mercy.”

“Oh, so you’re just using me for a place to sleep. Even after I wore that stupid Halloween costume?”

He pauses, eyes glazing like it’s a distant memory and not less than twenty four hours ago. “You looked hot.”

“You made that pretty clear.”

“Anyway, I’ll come over after practice. You can bitch about Seungkwan until you pass out.”

“Fine, but if there is no pad thai then don’t come.”

“Whatever my woman demands,” he snorts, dropping a kiss to your lips before turning towards the door.

Two hours and another coffee later, Seungkwan occupies Wonwoo’s abandoned chair. There’s no reason for him to be taking an intro chem class as a Creative Writing major other than the fact he’s a bit of a masochist. He’s not half bad at it and doesn’t really need any tutoring but you get paid for showing up even if it’s complete silence as you pick your nails until he needs something.

You’re marking through his latest attempt when he finally speaks up, “You're dating Wonwoo, right?”

Red pen scratches through the edge of the paper. “What?”

“You and Wonwoo.”

What is the absolute configuration of the two carbon atoms in this compound? More red ink.

“What about me and Wonwoo?”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes with exasperation, like you’re on the outs of some obvious joke. “Dating.”

If an alkene has 24 hydrogen atoms, how many carbon atoms does it contain? Another X.

“No.”

“Oh, I thought—”

“We’re just friends.”

When 10 g of 90% pure lime stone is heated completely, the volume (in litres) of is liberated at STP is… Wrong, again. Which makes no sense because Seungkwan is good at this level. He’s fucking with you on purpose.

“Huh,” he comments, grabbing the worksheet back from your claws.

“‘Huh’ what?”

“I heard a rumor he had a girlfriend last night, that’s all.”

It's not the first time someone assumed there's more between you and Wonwoo then there actually is, your fib last night clearly fanned the flames of even more speculation. But neither of you date; not enough time, willpower, or patience to entertain someone around packed schedules. If you and Wonwoo didn’t have the same life within the chemistry department then you’d never see each other. It’s convenient as it can possibly be.

Maybe at one point there was. Summer of sophomore year when he studied abroad in Spain and the usual substance of correspondence morphed from memes and jokes to something softer; I miss you’s and you’d like it here’s. Late night phone calls that lasted hours, refusing to hang up first until one of you fell asleep and the other finally canceled the call.

But the opportunity to tip over the edge came and went without coalescing into whatever was on the other side.

Seungkwan can pretend it’s an innocent suggestion but he stares you down until you crack with your own curiosity. “Who told you that?”

“Some pledges said they accidentally hit on his girlfriend. I don't even think he knows another girl beside you. Plus you were at the party last night.”

Stupid fuckers, you mutter under your breath. “We’re not dating.”

“But you guys are always together.”

“We work together. You and Vernon are always together, are you two fucking?”

“My room is next to his and it doesn’t sound like work to me.”

“How does me failing you sound?” you spit.

Seungkwan doesn't so much as flinch at the threat but returns to the practice sheet with a smile nonetheless.

Typically, fall break is spent hidden away in a pile of blankets with you and Wonwoo alternating movie choices throughout the weekend. Dead Poets Society (him), When Harry Met Sally (you), Over the Garden Wall (him), Fantastic Mr Fox (you), and so on and so on.

This year, you have a strong feeling Dr. Wagner’s favorite pastime is seeing her TAs squirm. It’s the only explanation for the unique brand of humiliation she subjects you and Wonwoo to. Tonight, Friday and technically your first night off for the long weekend, she decides to engage in a new sort of torture. A fancy dinner that neither of you could ever hope to afford, and even as her treat, you still eye the menu prices nervously.

But Dr. Collins sits across the table, in the flesh, so you pull out the skills you learned in the ridiculous theater class you took freshman year to “diversify” your transcript and smile through the anxiety.

Wonwoo does a little better; in a button up you’ve only seen him wear a handful of times when his usual wardrobe is sweatshirts and free shirts from campus events, he looks more comfortable than you feel.

“Jill, tells me you both work on Epitranscriptomic mapping in her lab?” Dr. Collins asks after another sip of his drink. Two whiskeys at dinner.

It’s not an official interview. Not anything close to it, according to your advisor. Nothing is set in stone, even if Dr. Collins laughs at Wonwoo’s awkward jokes and nods enthusiastically to your stories about working in the library (he also worked in the library in undergrad, but used it to nap more than actually work). But it feels like a step in the right direction.

“Yes, sir.” Wonwoo and you nod in tandem.

Dr. Wagner’s research focuses on how different RNA modifications vary across various cell types and states. It’s high level stuff that no one but Wonwoo understands when you rant about the broken Cellraft machine. And his complaints about NovaSec’s constant crashes that leave him without work fall on deaf ears except when they’re directed at you.

Half the reason you two started speaking during orientation is because the overly enthusiastic intern asked what people were looking forward to the most during school. You and Wonwoo were the only ones who seemed to think she meant school-related and not where to buy a fake ID. Apparently, the best person to get a fake ID from was a junior in Dr. Wagner’s lab that year. Go figure.

“I’ve seen you two listed down the line as co-authors,” he nods.

The waiter brings dessert, spiced toffee cakes and ice cream. You’re starving but the knot in your stomach from when you sat down is even tighter and all you can do is pick at the plate.

“Well, Y/N does a lot of the troubleshooting for the RNA degradation issues,” Wonwoo shares.

Your face heats at the unexpected but not undeserved compliment. Dr. Wagner’s work isn’t cheap and the thought of wasting valuable money, money that could line the pocket of an extra set of hands, forced you to run a tight ship. The other researchers in her lab could say what they wanted behind your back but Dr. Wagner nods with fondness and you try not to preen.

“We’d be a mess if it wasn’t for her,” Dr. Wagner agrees. “The lab techs should write her a card.”

Not wanting to leave him out, you shoot a look to your left where Wonwoo pulls at the napkin in his lap. “Wonwoo is the one that made sure the parameters made sense for the last publication.”

“Also true.” Dr. Wagner smiles. “I told you, Harry, they’re my best students. Excel a mile past my TAs last year. They work together exceptionally well. If I could keep them both for next year, I would.” She says it with finality. There might very well be an opportunity to stay here and continue in her lab, even if your ambition has outgrown the place you’ve called home for four years.

The table is cleared, your plate full of mashed cake and melted ice cream with not a single bite missing. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally; physically from the three all nighters you’ve pulled this week. There’d be an earful from Wonwoo about the dangers of sleep deprivation (hypocrite) but he looks like he’s seen a ghost tonight and won’t sleep himself.

Dr. Collins glances at his watch with a muffled yawn, “My, my! Look at the time! My apologies I didn't mean to keep us all out so late. I know you two probably have far more interesting things to be doing than spending the evening with a couple old timers like us.” He winks at Dr. Wagner, who rolls her eyes and hands the check back to the waiter who can’t be more than nineteen. “It looks like I’ll have some tough decisions to make in the upcoming weeks. Best of luck to the both of you.”

Hands shakes all around, and an awkward shuffle at the door and Dr. Collins and Dr. Wagner disappear into the night, leaving you and Wonwoo alone on the long walk back to campus.

You don’t beeline to your apartment for a debrief. Or even to ignore the obvious awkwardness cracking between. A bench to the side of the campus green is where you find yourselves, across from the fountain that upholds the tradition of drunken seniors taking a dip during finals when they’ve given up.

You want to drown in it.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper. “What happens if one of us doesn't get in?”

“I–I don’t know.” He peers down at you with what you think is grief and the white noise that follows his quiet admission chokes painfully. There’s no plan B for something like this

If you got in, then Wonwoo did too. An unfounded assumption that wherever you went he’d be there too, based on almost four years of something between you. Too much to be friendship but too scared to call it something else. Something more. All the stereotypical college firsts had been with him or witnessed by him, you assumed grad school would be the same.

But it can’t be.

“Then we should end this.”

The words are out like shaken champagne, a dramatic explosion you can’t take back; a mess in the slimmest inches of space between your bodies on the bench in the freezing air.

“What?” he says.

You can’t swallow back down the idea. Wonwoo won’t let you. Maybe you don’t want to. You stare at the fountain across the green with a twitch in your jaw.

“One of us is gonna move to Boston and the other is gonna have to figure it out and I’d rather not hate you or you hate me when it happens.”

You won’t take it back but you won’t look at him either.

“You think I’d hate you?”

He’s staring at you. You can feel the burn of his gaze on your cheek where embarrassment heats as well.

“I would.” You ignore the break in your voice at the complete lie. “I’d hate it if you got in and I didn’t. Even though you deserve it and I couldn’t be mad about it. I’d hate it. All I’ve wanted since freshman year is to go there, and I won’t ruin it for you just because I can’t have it.”

For a painstaking moment, he doesn’t say anything. His shoulders are still rigid and he props his weight into his knees, head bowed so you can’t even see his face in the stark street light. He doesn’t do anything until you do, until you slump with utter defeat.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Your voice pinches in your throat.

“What else is there? You’ve already decided for the both of us. That stupid fucking program matters more to you than—”

You heat close to explosion.“It’s not stu—”

Wonwoo rushes off the bench. “It is! It is because we’ve been dating for the past three years but you won’t even fucking admit it! You’ll tell some stupid pledge I’m your boyfriend but everytime I think we’ve worked it out – that you’re finally ready to talk about it – you pretend nothing is happening.”

“That wasn’t—” you shake your head.

“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

You move quicker than he does and find his hand, but he doesn’t want to stay and you can’t stop him from leaving. “Wonwoo.”

“Stop.” His voice is stoic, whatever emotions previously controlling him locked up tight behind faux dismissal. “Just…stop.”

If you’re going to lie then the smallest favor you can do is obey his command. You hide your face in your hands, cheeks hot and eyes stinging. Because if you look at him then you’ll break into a million pieces. You’d admit to lying to his face; that you could so much as entertain the idea of hating him.

Wonwoo waits but you say nothing. No argument, no final comment.

When you finally look up he’s far enough down the sidewalk that the pathetic croak of his name is unheard.

Endpoint: a critical moment in a chemical process where a specific change indicates that the reaction is complete.

Two days later, when you finally get the balls to call Wonwoo and apologize, to tell him he’s right and that you’re an absolute idiot, he’s already blocked your number.

In a game of passive aggressive pettiness, Wonwoo takes gold.

He won’t talk to you outside of class and lab hours. Even then, he refuses to look at you; talks straight around you. Any form of correspondence you receive has Dr. Wagner’s name attached and anything you send without it is loudly ignored.

Other people notice too.

In study hours, the students notice, whisper to each other when Wonwoo snubs your attempt to discuss a batch of graded homework in favor of focusing his attention on a cowering freshman who looks like he might piss himself when Wonwoo calls him by name. All the others bury their heads in their textbooks in fear he’ll pick them next.

In Nano, when he shows up just in the nick of time to leave his self-assigned seat next to you empty, and instead sitting next to the door. You feel the eyes on you, hair standing on end at the back of your neck when Dr. Lim stutters through his intro with wide eyes at the scene.

Seungkwan shows up to tutoring significantly less interested in your love life. Or he pretends he isn’t. He doesn’t ask outright and there’s pity in his eyes, thick enough you want to burst into the tears you’ve waited to come for the past two weeks. Instead you feel hollow.

Even Mr. Lee, the night guard at the library, eyes your solitary exit with something like concern. Even going so far as to call campus public safety to escort you the short walk home.

Your other friends try to take you out, get your mind off the tilt in your world axis. You go. Sit at bar tables and laugh when you're supposed to, make empty conversations with strangers but you don’t care. You want to go home and curl up in your own misery like a blanket and cry until your eyes swell shut and pass out from exhaustion. Eventually, they stop asking if you want to come and just leave ice cream and bottles of wine on your doormat as support.

Your grades don’t suffer, and that’s the only thing you can cling to right now.

In Dr. Wagner’s office, an impromptu meeting under the guise of setting final exam expectations and tinkering the schedule, Wonwoo continues the harsh coldness of silence; content to pretend you don’t even exist.

You work through it easily enough. You and Wonwoo have the same finals so there's only two schedules (Dr. Wagner’s and your shared one) to coordinate for extra study hours. The entire ordeal takes ten minutes to complete the shared calendar, pack it full of final lab meetings and deadlines for grading.

And when it’s over, you move to rise but Dr. Wagner stops you short.

She looks sheepish which is an odd sight. Immediately, you go to the worst. You grit and swallow and sit back down in the same upholstered chair from the last time she dropped a bomb in your lap.

This is the bandaid rip you’ve waited for all semester. Whatever is at the end of this meeting means you finally know if you’re good enough or not. If karma does justice and gives Wonwoo the spot in Dr. Collins lab next year because you committed the sin of wanting it too much, sacrificed too much.

“It seems my attempt at friendly competition had some…unintended consequences.”

Where sizzling anger would once flourish and bloom, nothing but empty exhaust stutters to life. “What?”

“Last year, the second my TAs found out I’d recommended them, they slacked off. Missing class, incorrect results in the lab. Now I know you two are hard workers but I was afraid senioritis might set in and I’d have to lay down the law. I don’t like being harsh with my students, not directly anyway. I want the best out of them, and I knew I could anticipate the best from you two. I was always planning to recommend both of you to Dr. Collins. I told him he would regret it if he even thought about not making space for you both next year.”

“What?” you repeat again.

There’s a weight on your knee. You don’t even need to look to know it’s Wonwoo’s hand. He doesn’t look before flipping it over when you place yours on top, fingers knotting together; holds it tight like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. You unconsciously squeeze and he mimics without thought.

“So what does this mean?”

“Dr. Collins can’t outright say it but he’s on the admissions board and decides who gets to join his lab. He was adamant that both of you join him in Boston.”

“But we haven’t even—”

“I know, but the application is a formality at this point.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Your work speaks for itself.”

Wonwoo is still there, clenching your hand for dear life. Waiting for the other shoe to drop because there is no way – no way – it’s this easy. Months at each other's throat from the tension and for nothing. You’re sweaty, heart thumping loud enough it might break from your chest and skitter on Dr. Wagner’s desk. She keeps talking and you still haven’t looked at Wonwoo.

“I’m so proud of you both!” she beams. “And I’m sorry if I’ve…complicated things…for the two of you. It was never my intention. Now, go! Rest! Take the day off and celebrate. Send me the links to your applications and I’ll do my part so you can finally relax before finals.”

The pair of you shuffle outside like zombies. In broad daylight, the world keeps spinning and someone drops their coffee a little further down the street and curses a storm; a car honks at a biker, there's packs of students shuffling around where you stand dumbfounded. Your sweater does little to block the chill of late November wind.

Wonwoo still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“Did that just happen?” he asks.

“What the fuck.”

Your laughing, deranged and fatigued cackles that earn several looks but on the cusps of finals it’s not uncommon enough to stop anyone out of concern. “What the fuck!”

You’re not sure what to do. Celebrate? Cry?

It’s a little bit of both as Wonwoo swoops in, wrapping his arms around you tight enough to squeeze a surprised scream from your lungs. He’s not done, lifting and spinning you around in a quick circle before crying, “What the fuck!”

You laugh, snorting ugly cackles as he almost drops you with both of you gasping for breath. Completely deranged but what just happened that the rift between you momentarily heals.

Wonwoo sets you down gently but keeps close, his hands your waist like he’s afraid to let go. Like he’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. You finally look at him, and it’s the first breath of air after drowning for hours. The creases around his eye, the happy wrinkles around his nose. His hair is long enough it brushes your skin where your foreheads almost touch. His hold is like a cocoon of warmth.

“I’m sorry!” you blurt. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m stupid and stubborn and I’ve been so caught up in this program that I—”

“No,” he shakes his head, arms tightening as you squirm in his hold.

“Let me finish.”

“No,” he says. “I like that you're stubborn and a pain in the ass. And it wasn’t fair that I expected you to just push aside something like grad school for me. I was being selfish and—”

“I love you.”

You might say it again just to see the way he chokes and turns purple; pulls you closer. He’s at a loss for words and you capitalize on the moment.

“I’ve thought about what would happen if I didn’t get in, like a million different possibilities and never once were you not there. I felt like…I don’t know, honestly. Like I was losing you and it was easier to be upset about the program than admit that. It was stupid and I’m stupid, and I’m really bad at speeches so…feel free to shut me up or whatever.”

You wait for him to process what you’ve said – a million emotions swiping across his face. Ridiculous some people act like he’s the embodiment of stoicism because if you know what to look for then they’d realize he’s terrible at hiding the way he feels.

“You love me?”

All that crying you did in the past few weeks means nothing because you could cry right now. But you don’t look away, you don’t ever want to look away from him again because you’d miss the way his face softens.

“Well, we’ve been dating for the past three years. It’s about time I told you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t speak, facing morphing into confusion before he scoffs with disbelief. “You’re so annoying.”

“Hey!” you stomp but Wonwoo pulls you closer, buries his face in your neck and squeezes so tight something feels on the verge of popping in your spine. His ears burn red as he whispers those three words back quietly enough you strain to hear them. He bites your shoulder just to be an asshole.

“What the hell was that for?”

He does it again.

“Stop biting me you freak, we’re in public.” You pinch his side for good measure and only then does he smash the side of his face to yours and begin walking you backwards, in the direction of your apartment.

“Whatever, you love me.”

He lets you walk normally at the cross walk, your hand in his, both tangled in the warmth of the pocket of his sweatshirt because it’s fucking cold and the wind isn’t helping. Wonwoo drags you straight home, up the stairs, and crowds you against the door and kisses you until you can’t breathe.

“Why are you crying?”

You are. You don’t even realize it had started until you reach up and feel the dampness on your cheeks.

“Probably because I haven’t slept in two days and I missed you, idiot.” Wonwoo kisses you flat on the mouth again at the confession, smiling big enough it’s less of a kiss and more of teeth pressed together. But it’s good. You like it. You speak into his mouth, “I promise I would have really ‘sloppy I love you sex’ but I’m so tired I think I might throw up.”

“You missed me.” he hums, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, big head, I missed you. Now let’s sleep.”

“God,” he moans, biting his lip in mock pleasure. Maybe even real pleasure at the idea of a Friday afternoon full of nothing but hazy dreams in silence rarely found in a frat house. “I love you too.”

You undress straight down to your underwear. Cotton with a conservative cut because in no universe did you think you’d end the day with Wonwoo back in your orbit. Wonwoo who loves you, Wonwoo who you love back. But he eyes you like you’re a grand prize and all he wants is to touch you. But the rush of adrenaline keeping you conscious is burning out quickly.

He strips too, nothing but boxers and circles under his eyes but he’s happy. It radiates off him in waves and if you weren’t part of it, you’d throw something at him because it’d be annoying. You might just be glowing too.

You slip under the covers and Wonwoo snuggles up behind you, a second skin with his hand flat to your stomach to keep you from going anywhere. Not that you would. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

When you wake up, it’s dark outside; which could mean it’s been minutes or hours since the winter sun likes to deep beneath the horizon early in the afternoon. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

Everything is warm; your body beneath the comforter, where sweat sticks at your back, the lips dragging across the curve of your neck, Wonwoo’s crotch firm between your legs.

“Good morning to me,” you sigh.

He hums in happy agreement, tongue traces the shell of your ear before kissing across your cheek and chin and finally landing on your mouth with a kiss that can only be described as sappy.

“Got started without me?” Your hands press under his underwear, two palms full of his ass holding him still enough to grind up into. Something about a sleepy make out has you hungry to lay there and take whatever he’ll offer.

“I’ll catch you up, don’t worry.”

You snicker, “No wonder those freshmen have crushes on you.”

“What do you mean?” He traces your naked sides with his fingers.

“I’ll catch you up,” you mock, then wince from a razor of his teeth as he shifts down your chest. “If you were my TA, I’d try to fuck you.”

“I’m trying to have’ sloppy I love you sex’ and you’re trying to goad me into some student teacher shit?”

He bites your side, just a nip but you flare and blush anyway. “Ooooo, tell me I’m bad.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

“As I was saying,” he whispers into your stomach, fingers tugging your panties off. “Sloppy I love you sex.”

“Okay, okay.” You sink a hand in his hair only for him to tug it away, fingers laced together over your sternum as he strokes you to life. “O-oh, that’s—fuck.”

He hikes a leg up over his shoulder, out of the way for the fingers that satisfy the empty squeeze in your gut. Your tongue prickles with another goad but Wonwoo senses it first and swiftly works to silence you with a hot kiss to your clit that makes your vision bleed red.

The cold of the room works in his favor, pinching your nipples tight until you cave to the need to touch yourself. If the light was on then he’d watch and you get the urge to pause the action just for the chance to watch him watch you.

“Don’t stop,” you grunt.

He eats it filthy, spit and arousal forming a wet mess slipping down your ass. The way his tongue lashes is nothing short of despicable and you know you’re the one that taught him that and you can’t help but flare with pride. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m—” you chant blindly.

The warmth between your legs surrounds, suffocates until your thighs go numb and your shoulders pull away from the mattress with a groan rivaling porn; but you mean it. Wonwoo means it too.

You clench harder, revitalized in the stretch of another finger and a clip of teeth on your clit. You tug at your still clasped hands on your chest, bite into the meat of his palm and let the flood consume you with stiff legs and tears in your eyes. “Oh, Wonwoo – u-ugh. Fuck. Fuck.”

Wonwoo takes it, mouth waiting for every eager roll of your hips; completely unphased until you melt back in the sheets with a pathetic mewl.

He kisses up your body, mouth and cheeks wet and warm. When he reaches your mouth you resist the urge to lick him clean. Something about that feels decidedly unlike sloppy I love you sex. So you slip your tongue between his lips instead and spread your legs until his crotch is level with the raw sensitivity of your own.

“Roll over,” you pant.

Like an asshole, he laughs. And then he drops his weight behind his hips and you actually see stars. “Wanna do it like this.”

“Make love to me,” you croon.

He doesn’t even pretend to stifle the obnoxious snort. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“What happened to sloppy I love you sex?”

“Getting to it. You like it when I come inside you?” Now he’s the one goading and you’re blushing like you’ve never fucked him before. To be fair, you haven’t fucked him as the man you’re in love with so it’s a first time for the both of you. Wonwoo’s drunk on the power of having you stutter through something so familiar yet new.

“Love it.”

“Good,” he agrees with a saccharine peck to your nose that makes you feel like a doe eyed virgin again. “I love you.”

Your need for games and pretense dissolves. You just want Wonwoo, all of him, until you can’t take it any more.

Wonwoo senses the change, noses against your cheek before kissing you. He’s still holding your hand, the other cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the curve of flesh. It’s vulnerable and soft and something you probably could’ve experienced years ago if you weren’t willfully blind.

“I love you, too.”

You whisper the confession so quietly it doesn’t even make a sound but Wonwoo figures it out because he surges into action, pulling you to the center of the mattress in all your naked glory. The flood light from the side of the building reflects back in through the slats in the blinds and Wonwoo sits up to soak in what he can see in the limited light.

Twisting a hand in his hair, you pull him down for a kiss; forcing all the emotions you have to the surface. He doesn’t make you wait. Instead, he drops flat, flat together from head to toe as he slips inside. You’re still tight and sensitive, squirming at the feeling of being stretched so thin with Wonwoo wrapped tight in your arms.

“W-wonwoo,” you mewl. You know he loves the sound of his name, any time, in desperate moans and sleepy coos. You’ll say it as much as he wants to hear if he kisses you like he is now – with something new at the edge. Something needy. “More.”

He wraps your legs around his hips, folding you clean in half with a heavy rut into your pussy you’ll feel for days. You both want to drag this out – take hours to come apart and come together again and again – but Wonwoo is already working a hand between your bodies; stroking you over hot coals just to hear you moan his name again.

In record speed, you feel that familiar burn creeping along your spine. He fucks you into a wet mess and it’s all you can do to hold on and claw up his back. Breaks you into something limp and pliant, hands twisted together over head; tugs at that loose thread over and over until you unravel beneath him and Wonwoo watches like it’s magic.

“Oh- oh, Wonwoo–” you cry. Actually cry. Tears he swipes away with a thumb before pressing his mouth to yours.

You’re swollen and stiff, muscles taunt while they twitch from a rush of complete bliss.

“M cumming, baby – oh my god.” Wonwoo bucks into the tight squeeze of your legs, deeper, harder, more. “Love you—fuck.”

He hides with soft sighs in your neck, skin sticky where you both slide together. You cradle him to your chest, fingers rushing through the sweaty tangles on his hair gently. A kiss to his head, his brow, his nose that wrinkles from pure content.

But you’re not done yet.

You wiggle from beneath him, peeling yourself off the pillows, lower half still numb from one hell of an orgasm. But you want more, insatiable and doped on years of repressed fondness. “Can you go again?”

Wonwoo looks like you asked him to run a marathon. “You want me to die?”

“Worse ways to go,” you coo, sinking low enough to take his cock in your mouth. It tastes like you and him and it makes your eyes roll.

“God. I didn’t know sappy sex meant you’d try to kill me,” he moans airly under your ministrations, a hand at the back of your head when you show off with a nose to his crotch before sliding off. “You’re evil.”

“I’m in love with a sexy nerd and I'm horny,” you sigh dreamily, thrilled with the way he pulses in your hold.

“Yeah, well…” he gives up on whatever rebuttal under the weight of your body on top of his. Nothing he can argue with in that statement anyway so you tease him with a kiss, smile when he chases your mouth, roll when you realize he can taste the mix of you both off your tongue.

“You know…I’ll need a roommate in Boston.”

“Huh,” Wonwoo feigns. His focus is on the way your tug at his cock, spit and cum webbed between your fingers. This isn’t the best way to have this conversation but you’re both high on sleep deprivation, love, and orgasms and it encourages loose lips.

“Know anyone interested?”

He shudders back into the pillow, leaving his neck open for your teeth with a choked, “Yeah.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah —fuck—wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Even if I’m a cranky bitch?” Your knees bracket his hips, cunt split on his cock as you grind against the underside.

His stomach caves as he responds with a thin voice, “yeah.”

You like waking up to him too. Falling asleep with him tangled in your body, listening to him hum in the shower when he thinks you aren’t listening. Sometimes he even sings with a little encouragement like those times you were sick and the only thing that got your mind from exploding like thunderclaps was the lullabies from his childhood that he cooed into your hairline.

Starting and ending everyday with Wonwoo sounds nothing short of blissful.

“Okay.” You tangle his fingers with your own, rising on your knees to distract from the sheepish smile splitting your face in two.

“Really?”

“I like having you around,” you admit, sinking down on his cock. “Makes me feel better.”

Weird conversation over the back track of slapping skin and pathetic muffled sobs but you like it. Feels well overdue.

“A-about?”

Everything.

He gives a tender squeeze to your thigh, cradles your face in both hands, eye contact that you fight not shutter away from because it’s terrifying he can see you clearly.

He’s lost; completely mesmerized by the way you bounce on the length of him, grind back into his lap like you’re possessed.

“Can’t last—” he chokes.

“S’okay,” you press the words into his cheek, his jaw, the bones jutting from around his collar. “Just wanna feel you.”

You bend and strain for his pleasure, to watch it dance across his brow as he cums inside you again, his hands heavy on your ass, your thighs, whatever he reflexively grips in a bid for grounding, nails leaving streaks of color. Twitching and jerking in sensitive painful bliss, his eyes roll back with a quick exhale. “Fuck-k.”

You're sticky and used between the legs but you take comfort in the feeling and bask in the glow on top of him. Nothing but a pile of satisfied boneless goo where you lay with sweaty skin and heat you feel from the top of your head to your toes. “Good?”

“Great,” he hums, pulling into one last toe numbing kiss.

When feeling returns to your bodies, you spend the rest of the night eating greasy pizza on the couch in nothing but his shirt, drinking wine straight from the bottle in celebration. You kiss Wonwoo whenever you want, which, admittedly, is a lot; a flurry of sappy pecks over his face leaves him blushing and dewy. When you fall asleep after making love once again, the last thing you hear is him saying he loves you too.

Epilogue

4 months later…

There’s a certain level of comfort that comes with receiving an official acceptance email. The words you’ve been waiting to hear since Dr. Wagner all but confirmed your future in a fifteen minute meeting last semester.

On behalf of the Chemistry department, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a part of…

The big envelope in the mail today helped too.

Wonwoo sends a photo of his, unopened, because you promised to open them together tonight. On your date; which is nothing more than grading assignments and eating leftover take out on the couch like so many nights have been spent already. But this time he’s your boyfriend. And after all the worksheets are graded, and you get to cuddle deep into the worn couch cushions, you get to tell him you love him and he’ll say it back and the flutter in your veins at the thought is nothing short of magical.

And this time you have a surprise waiting for him and he might just cry. Or you hope so. You’ve got $50 riding on the possibility.

You’re sweating through your shirt from putting the new piece of furniture together for the past three hours by the time he shows up with a bag of takeout, Thai food from the place on Market where they know you by order, and a kiss you’ve been missing since the morning when he left for one of his stupid workouts.

Wonwoo sets the bag on the counter, immediately pulling you into his arms before sagging like a deflated balloon. “Pixel got adopted today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He’s moping. He accepts your placating kiss with a pout, and starts unpacking the food.

You feel the smallest flutter of guilt but it's worth it. “That sucks.”

“She needed a good home.” Wonwoo confirms and that's the end of the conversation.

Even in your final semester, your schedules are still packed. Crammed full with meetings, exams, work, Wonwoo’s volleyball stuff that you attend with posters and sit near the other girlfriends. It’s weird but not because its the same stuff you two were doing for years. But it’s exhausting.

So you don’t blame Wonwoo for not noticing the newest addition to your apartment until he’s inhaled his food and the last third of yours.

“Babe.”

“What?” you ask, focusing on cutting another red slash into the white paper.

“What’s that?”

He points at the gigantic cat tower in the corner next to the couch. It’s cramped in tight but in two months you’ll both be in Boston with a bigger apartment with real bedrooms so it’s only temporary.

You shrug and make another mark. “Oh, just something I picked up.”

“You don’t have a cat.”

“Huh. Weird.” Your eyebrows furrow in mock confusion but you keep grading papers or else it’s game over and the need to watch him puzzle together your plans is all you want. “Then what’s the thing in the bathroom?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” you confirm.

Wonwoo stares open mouthed, between you and the bathroom door and back to you. He might pinch himself but he flies off the couch with childlike eagerness and your face hurts from smiling already.

Pixel spends the rest of the night curled up asleep on her new dad’s lap and you’re $50 richer. Mingyu’s girlfriend is already offering to catsit despite Mingyu’s pouts about losing money.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts

@wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially

@scoupsjin @isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy

@lukeys-giggle @aaa-sia @tinkerbell460

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heqvenlymoons · 7 months

Text

That One, I Want That One

Based on @fleursroses 's incorrect quote! <3

This is being posted as a oneshot on both my AO3 account and here on tumblr for now but I'm seriously considering turning it into a multi-chaptered fic because how well it was received. Someone said it had rom com potential and I can see it 😭

Daminette One Shot | Crack Fic | AO3

Damian tugged on the collar of his great dane, Titus, trying to get away from his imbecile brothers.

It was a futile endeavour, as his brothers merely sped up their walking pace, talking over one another.

“Come on, Dami! We just wanna know,” Richard— Grayson, because he was currently being a nuisance— whined.

Todd scoffed, waving around the toy Nerf gun he insisted on bringing. “You know what? The brat’s probably better off without a wife, god forbid whoever gets stuck with him forever. I bet you, the little shit’s gonna be the one blackmailing someone into being his wife if he sees fit.”

“Fuck you, Todd.” Damian’s fingers itched to grab his katana and slit it over his idiotic brother’s throat but at last, his father and pseudo grandfather figure, Alfred, had confiscated the knives he tried to sneak out on their business trip to Paris.

Drake sipped on his coffee, his head bobbing up and down as he struggled to stay awake, even as he mumbled an incoherent, “You’re never going to get an answer if you aggravate him like that, Jay. Although I’d still like to know as well.”

He hadn’t finished his sentence when he stumbled into a nearby pedestrian, almost kissing the ground had Todd not grabbed him by the collar at the last second.

During the mishap, the coffee cup Drake was holding spilled onto the floor, seeping into the ground as he stared at it with mournful eyes. “My coffee!”

Todd rolled his eyes, letting go of the sleep-deprived Drake’s collar with an unsympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Damian’s lips curved up to a smirk. Perhaps that would keep Drake quiet for a few minutes as he mourned his spilled coffee.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Grayson or Todd from their irritating line of questioning his so-called ‘love life’.

Damian glared when Grayson pulled out the puppy doll eyes, accompanied by his repeated question, “Come on, please? Just answer the question— what’s your ideal type?”

“Repeating the question with that pathetic expression of yours does not make me any more inclined to answer your question.” Damian spotted a bakery up ahead and approached it, ignoring Grayson’s pout.

Perhaps his dingbat brothers would behave themselves in an embellishment full of people, although that would be wishful thinking on his part.

His brothers, of course, followed him and continued to push their relentless questions onto him

Todd grabbed his arm, stopping him, a glint of glee in his eyes, no doubt finding amusement in his current predicament. “You know, we’re not going to stop bothering you until you tell us.”

Damian’s brows furrowed in annoyance, knowing full well from experience that his brothers would not stop poking and prodding until he did what they wanted.

Right now, they wanted to know his ideal type, and they claimed his answer was to sedate their ever-growing ‘curiosity’ when he knew they wanted to utilize the information to set him up with someone.

He scowled, making his decision. He would tell them only to make them stop badgering him about the inane question but that didn’t mean he was open to the idea of a relationship with someone they chose for him

“Fine. My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. You imbeciles better not utilize this information to set me up with someone or I will stab you.” He hissed, sending them his most intimidating glare for good measure.

Todd dared to smirk at him. “Not likely, Demon Spawn. And even if we did, you won’t stab us. You’re all bark and no bite.”

In response, Damian kicked him in the knee, making the older double over with a grunt.

Before he could continue his assault, Grayson dragged him away, Todd spitting curses from where he lay on the ground in a starfish position, the Nerf gun on the ground beside him.

Grayson was already wearing the contemplative expression he had on whenever he was about to do something stupid. “Okay~ that’s enough, little D. Back to what we were discussing, your future girlfriend has to be brave, strong, and smart, you say?”

Damian gritted his teeth. “You are paraphrasing at best but I assume you already got the general idea because I am not going to repeat myself for your benefit.”

He turned and before he could turn the door handle of the bakery to continue his dramatic exit (or in this case, dramatic entry), the door flew open and it would’ve hit him in the face had it not been for his quick reflexes.

The scowl reappeared on his face and he turned back to reprimand the person who dared try to attack him with a door to see a girl about his age, shuffling past his bewildered brothers in a hurry.

Damian blinked, watching as the girl with raven-haired pigtails promptly tripped over nothing, crashing into the pole, the box she was holding fell from her hands and macaroons came tumbling out.

He watched with interest as the girl mumbled out apologies to the inanimate object, picking up the fallen macaroons from the ground while she did and putting them back in the box.

Snapping out of his daze, he handed Titus’s leash to Grayson before moving to help the girl, grabbing the remains of the macaroons from the ground and placing them in a neat row in the box.

He held out a hand for the girl to take, which she accepted with a grateful look and he pulled her to her feet.

Getting a good look at her face, he was filled with a fluttering sensation in his stomach and he ignored it, thinking he must be coming down with a stomach bug. “Are you alright? That was quite a fall.”

Her bluebell eyes were blown wide, staring into his green ones with surprise. She broke the stare first, shaking her head before responding, “I’m fine! Thank you for your help, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Her phone dinged and she yelped. “I’m sorry but I’m already late, see you around, mysterious handsome but kind person!”

He opened his mouth to respond but she had already sped away, only catching sight of her red face as she turned.

His face heated as his mind caught up with her words. The girl was definitely something…

He felt an arm going around his shoulders and he didn’t react, still staring in the direction the girl took off.

“So, didn’t know Demon Spawn had it in him to talk to a pretty girl without scowling,” Todd drawled, the beginning of a teasing expression appearing on his face when he noticed the dazed look his youngest brother was sporting.

Damian shoved him away, looking distracted.

Drake shook his head, mumbling, “I must be hallucinating, Demon Spawn would never willingly talk to someone, much less a girl.”

“That one. I want that one.” Damian declared, unknowingly sending his adopted brothers into cardiac arrest at the words that fell out of his mouth.

Grayson looked torn between looking wary and gleeful. “Uh… what do you mean by ‘that one’, little D?”

Damian didn’t look at him as he pointed in the direction the girl ran off. “Her.”

Todd’s jaws gaped like a fish, for once, speechless.

Drake in his sleep-deprived state can only dumbly respond, “That’s not how it works, Damian. You can’t just go around adopting people.”

Damian finally dragged his gaze away from the direction the girl had long run off in, glaring at his brothers with his cheeks blazing red. “Not adoption, you imbecile.”

Not giving them the time to respond, he continued, a look of stress crossing his expression before he willed it away. “You lot have to keep Father from adopting her, it would cause complications.”

Grayson hummed. “She does meet the criteria, black hair and blue eyes.”

Todd seemed to have unfrozen, shaking his head in denial. “Wait wait wait, just wait a second. You’re saying, she’s your ideal type? You literally met her 5 minutes ago! I thought you said your future partner must be and I quote ‘brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized’?”

He prattled on, not paying attention to how Titus had taken to getting slobber all over his shoes. “No offence to her but she tripped over air and crashed into the poll in front of her. The clumsy behaviour caught your eye of all things? Are you sure you haven’t been abducted by aliens?”

Damian glared, the red not receding from his face. He rounded on Drake. “Do a full background check on her, it is necessary for me to know everything about her if she were to be my partner.”

He paused, scowling. “Actually, I better do this myself. I need to know everything about her, it is better if you imbeciles stay as far away from her as possible. She does not need you all to monopolize her time.”

He grabbed Titus’s leash from Grayson and headed in the direction of Le Grand Paris to do just that, leaving behind his shell-shocked brothers.

Jason turned to his brothers, looking amused now that he had gotten over his shock. “So, who’s gonna tell him that stalking is not the right way to woo a girl?”

#maribat #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #daminette #maribat crack #heqvenlymoons

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 months

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [23] - Curiosity

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Relatives tend to pry.

Word Count: 2400

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of period, mentions of pregnancy. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“Charm, I have a question.”

You applied your lipstick, completely focused on your reflection in the mirror. “Hm?”

“Why do we keep having dinners with people we hate?”

You scoffed a laugh, then put the cap back on the lipstick before turning to Bucky.

“I wouldn’t say I hate my aunt,” you said. “I hate her son, not her. She’s just…”

“What?”

“Annoying.”

“I’ll rephrase my question, why do we keep having dinners with annoying people?”

You leaned back to the vanity. “Because we have complicated families, Bucky. I know it’s news for you.”

His phone vibrated and he read the text before typing in his reply.

“I have this thing—”

“Don’t even fucking try it!” you cut him off. “We’re married dickhead, you’re going to suffer with me. It’s on the prenup.”

“Tomorrow,” Bucky finished his sentence as if you didn’t interrupt him. “I have this thing tomorrow so I’ll have no time for lunch after the therapist—did you seriously put I’d suffer with you on the prenup?”

“Figuratively.”

He shot you a grin. “We’re the best married couple I know.”

You tried to hide your smile by pursing your lips together and turned around, then leaned in to check yourself in the mirror again, pretending to fix your lipstick. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky eyeing you up and down, his intense gaze sending a shiver down your spine and you arched a brow.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’d better not say it,” you warned him and he chuckled.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Just a little.”

“It’s just that…”

“Bucky.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Something tells me beautiful wasn’t the word in your mind.”

“Sweetheart,” he said. “You’re basically bent over in front of a mirror in that dress, there are so many things in my mind.”

You straightened your back to shoot him a look and he held up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“You asked.”

“Can you perhaps be less horny when we’re about to have dinner with my family?”

“I’ll try.”

“Much appreciated,” you deadpanned as you walked past him, with him following you behind out of the apartment. You pressed the button on the elevator, then took a deep breath.

“We’re not shooting or threatening anyone tonight,” you said and Bucky tilted his head.

“Are you telling me or yourself that?”

You clicked your tongue. “Both.”

You had never really liked spending time with your aunt even before your father started pitting you and Ian against each other for the heir position. At least she was never really around when you were growing up, even after Ian moved in with you, but she liked dropping by in the town from time to time.

And commenting on literally anything about you, from your relationships to how you looked.

Your aunt wasn’t even the only reason why this dinner was probably going to be tense as hell. Bucky was still furious at your father for the shit he pulled back at that dinner with the other families, so now you had to make sure no one started any fights while adamantly ignoring whatever your aunt would say to you.

Lovely.

“You must tell me all about the wedding!” your aunt said. “Starting with before it, actually. How did this—” she motioned between you and Bucky. “happen?”

Bucky gave her a charming smile.

“Well I suppose I managed to convince her,” he said. “Or after a while she got bored of rejecting me?”

“Reject you?” your aunt asked with a laugh. “Oh I can’t be the only one who remembers how she used to follow you around like a puppy, Y/N you were so adorable with that little schoolgirl crush!”

You stared at her for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, then I grew up and grew out of it.”

“Obviously not, sweetheart,” your father said, making Ian bite down a smirk and you gritted your teeth, the memory of Bucky turning you down that night flashing before your eyes.

What was it, he had called you?

Daddy’s spoiled whiny princess.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Bucky said with a boyish grin and you reached out to grab your glass to take a sip of your wine.

Despite everything, despite you and Bucky getting along well nowadays, you still couldn’t shake off the resentment of that night. The anger, how pathetic he made you feel, it was still there even after years, but you frowned slightly, trying to focus.

“I suppose I should have seen this coming, there was this one time,” your aunt said with a laugh. “Back when you were in high school, I found your diary, do you remember?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I remember you reading it, yeah.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe!” your aunt said. “What with you sneaking out of the house at night, I was almost positive you had a bad influence boyfriend. That’s what your mother would have wanted, God rest her soul, for someone to keep an eye on you.”

Your father heaved a sigh, taking a sip of his wine at the mention of your mother and you raised your brows.

“Anyways, I didn’t have anything to worry about—”

“Auntie,” you said warningly and she waved a hand in the air.

“Oh it was years ago Y/N, get over it—pages and pages about you,” she told him as the pins and needles of embarrassment sunk into your cheeks while a cocky smile curled Bucky’s lips.

“Seriously?”

“I swear,” your aunt said and Ian hummed.

“I remember that fight.”

“Yeah that’s what happens when someone invades someone’s privacy,” you said, forcing yourself not to look at Bucky who looked very pleased with himself for some reason. Your aunt let out a small laugh.

“We’re family,” she said. “These things happen.”

“Did you read Ian’s diary as well?”

“I didn’t keep a diary.”

“And it was years ago,” your father said. “Let’s not have the same fight again, hm? Because the last I remember, you threw multiple vases at the wall during that fight sweetheart.”

You bit at your tongue and cleared your throat.

“How was Monaco?” you tried to change the subject and your aunt shrugged her shoulders.

“That’s a long story,” she said. “But there’s no place like home, that’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Another break up?” you asked her and she narrowed her eyes, but unsurprisingly, the men around the table missed the curt glare you two threw at each other.

“Can’t I be back because I miss you all?” your aunt asked after a beat. “I would’ve been here for the wedding as well if you two hadn’t rushed it.”

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” your father said and she nodded.

“Honestly, with how rushed it was I told your father perhaps it was because there was something to rush about. There isn’t though, is there? I mean you’re drinking.”

You forced yourself to smile, then shook your head. “No.”

Bucky frowned, looking between you two before a look of realization dawned on his face.

“Ah no,” he said. “That’s not why. To be fair, rushing was kind of my fault. I’ve been in love with her forever, so I didn’t want to wait any longer. Thankfully she agreed.”

“And when can we expect that?” your aunt asked with a smile and Bucky choked on his wine before clearing his throat.

“Hm?”

“Not for a very long time,” you said and your father nodded with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

“I’m too young to be a grandfather, Nora.”

“Oh nonsense,” she told him. “You know what this business is like, and they’re in love! Obviously they want babies if they rushed the wedding. Have you two talked about how many yet?”

“I’m sorry, how many?” you repeated and she nodded.

“It’s good to be clear about the future, no? And Y/N once said she wanted two so Bucky, how many?”

Bucky blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat again.

“Uh…babies?”

“No, guns,” your aunt said with a laugh. “Of course babies!”

Bucky shot you a look as if begging you for help and you sat up straighter.

“That’s not in our plans right now.”

“But in the future?” your aunt insisted. “I mean surely you must have a number in mind.”

Bucky swallowed thickly, stealing a look at you. “Like um, like four maybe?”

You gawked at him. “I’m sorry, did you just say four?”

Bucky nodded his head.

“Yeah because you know, big family would be nice.”

“You—you do realize that for someone to have four kids, they’d have to spend three years as pregnant in total?” you asked him. “It’s basic math.”

“You want two, he wants four, three seems to be the perfect number,” your aunt joked and your father ran a hand over his face.

“They’ve just gotten married,” he reminded her. “It’s too early to talk about all that. More wine?”

You knew you and Bucky’s marriage was a sham and that you’d get a divorce as soon as you took over, but what you didn’t know was why exactly imagining Bucky having babies with someone else in his second marriage bothered you this much. The mere image was enough to churn your stomach, anger shooting through your system for some reason and you pursed your lips together, then held out your wine glass as well.

“Yes please.”

Alright, this was getting ridiculous.

Even you knew that you were throwing a fit out of nowhere, but that did nothing to calm you down. Ever since last night, your head was full of the image of Bucky having the picture-perfect family after your divorce, so you had been in a particularly cranky mood since then. You had barely said two words to him when you came home, going straight to bed and when you woke up, you were still sulking.

Bucky had asked you what was going on multiple times, you had no idea how to explain the fact that you didn’t want him to have perfect babies and be perfectly happy with a perfect woman in a perfect marriage without sounding selfish.

Which, in all honesty was incredibly selfish.

So when the psychiatrist sat down in front of you two, it took her a couple of seconds of complete silence to motion between you two.

“I’m sensing a bit of tension?”

“You and me both,” Bucky said. “I have zero idea why. Charm?”

You narrowed your eyes, then crossed your arms.

“He has a housewife kink.”

“Whoa!” Bucky exclaimed, his eyes going wide. “What?!”

“I’m guessing you haven’t talked about kinks before then?”

“Well, it was news to me.”

“It’s also news to me!” Bucky told you. “Charm, what the fuck?”

“Sex is a huge part of—”

“Sex is fine,” Bucky told Dr. Raynor before turning to you. “What’s going on?”

“If you want someone who’s gonna—who’s gonna—” you couldn’t help but stammer. “Like, stay in a cottage and bake pies, it's fine if she wants to, everyone has their own goals but I'm not that person and—”

“What are you even talking about?!”

“Alright, let’s take a breather,” Dr. Raynor said. “How would you describe your sex life, Bucky?”

“I would not.”

“Y/N.”

“It has nothing to do with sex, it has everything to do with the fact that he wants four babies.”

“What does it even matter?” Bucky asked you and you let out a scoff.

“It just does,” you told him. “First you pushed me out of the picture with Anna, and now I find out—”

“Jesus Christ, we talked about this!”

“Who’s Anna?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you told Dr. Raynor with a forced smile. “His new employee that he decided to hire even if I was told I would be involved in every single business decision and if you ask Bucky, it’s totally coincidental. Even if she’s hot as fuck.”

“Are you on your period or something?” Bucky asked you and your jaw dropped, fury shooting through you.

“Excuse you?”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s the only explanation I can think of for this nonsense.”

“Don’t ever ask me if I’m on my period again or I—”

“Let’s calm down,” Dr. Raynor said. “May I ask what brought this on?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Bucky deadpanned, glaring at you and you took a deep breath.

“We had a deal before we got married,” you told her. “About me being involved in the business decisions.”

“It’s not even a big business decision for God’s sake,” Bucky said. “I told you before, it’s a trial period with Anna, that’s all.”

“And this…housewife kink?” Dr. Raynor said and Bucky rolled his eyes again.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” he said. “What does it matter, Charm? Hm? Considering the deal?”

You gritted your teeth and stole a look at Dr. Raynor before scoffing.

“I just don’t want to be pushed out of the picture when you find the person whom you want to have four babies with, alright?”

“Do you think you’ll get a divorce?” Dr. Raynor asked and you shifted your weight.

“Well, that’s always a possibility.”

Dr. Raynor frowned and Bucky gritted his teeth, an annoyed grin curling his lips before he clicked his tongue.

“No one is pushing you out of the picture, Charm.”

“I think we should talk about this insecurity though,” Dr. Raynor said and you let out a small laugh.

“I’m not insecure,” you said, your voice going a pitch higher. “I’m just saying like…I don’t want four babies.”

“And is this a deal breaker for you, Bucky?”

“I honestly don’t give a fuck,” Bucky said. “I was just speaking hypothetically, and before you ask again, she was the one who came up with that whole housewife kink thing—you have an actual kink for medieval knights, I’m not saying anything about that.”

“I don’t have a kink for medieval knights!”

“Do you mind if I give you both homework?” Dr. Raynor cut off your bickering. “How many times a week do you have sex?”

You and Bucky stared at each other before turning to her.

“Uh—” Bucky cleared his throat. “Charm?”

“Couple times?” you said like a question and Dr. Raynor hummed.

“I want you both to keep an intimacy journal.”

Bucky gawked at her. “Sorry, what?”

“An intimacy journal,” she said. “I want you both to write down how sex affects your communication and dynamic, how it feels before, during and after, and before the week is over, you will try one fantasy you’re both comfortable with, and write about how it made you feel.”

Bucky threw his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose and you nodded slowly, shifting your weight on the couch.

“Sex journal,” you muttered. “Wonderful.”

Chapter 24

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shinjisdone · 10 months

Text

When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Everybody Thinks It's Them (2; Savanaclaw)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that 'secret admirer' - everyone wants to help you out...but have their own reason for it.Yet now, it seems like there are quite a few misunderstandings on campus...and everyone thinks they have finally found that secret admirer.

Spin-off of the first 'secert admirer' series + form of headcanons

note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone being mistaken for the secret admirer. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation.]

"Hey...you think he could be the famous admirer of the Ramshakle prefect?"

Tag list: @justm3di0cr3 , @a-small-tyrant , @twistedcece , @savanaclaw1996

1;Heartslabyul

3; Octavinelle

Leona Kingscholar

Ugh...this can't be real.

Savanaclaw students are usually not the type to gossip among each other...but they are cocky, believing their lazy dormleader won't ever hear a word of their rumors.

Well...they were wrong.

The first time Leona had heard of such...stupidity - of him being the secret admirer - he literally pulled a face.

They can't be serious, are they? He doesn't hold a lot of expectations on anyone but he had hoped his dorm wasn't that dumb.

He is surrounded by idiots.

It isn't flattering, it isn't clever to even wonder if the Leona Kingscholar could be the secret admirer. Not the lazy, pessimistic, easily bored Leona Kingscholar.

He is actually someone to approach the topic when he passes by a gossiping group. Telling them with a snarl to use their brain and if they really believe - key word; Believe - that he would do such a thing.

Does Leona show any ounce of passion and motivation to do the things the admirer did? Is he such a lovesick kitty that he'd be cowardly enough to keep his affections secret? Does Leona hold any kind of high regard for the herbivore?

His dormmates fiddle with their words, finding themselves nervous and speechless...

Yet at the last question...

One is brave enough to point out that, yes, dormleader Leona is fond of the prefect! You'd maybe have to really pay attention but once you do, his affections and reliance are as clear as day! ...For Leona's standards at least.

That would actually annoy him.

Pissed off he seems and the students turn tail. It is frightening to see the usual nonchalant Leona being angry and any mention of him and you, especially of his feelings for you (which don't exist!) leave him pissed off.

Usually he wouldn't care...but he can't deny the vexation he feels whenever he just senses people's eyes on him, knowing exactly why they are staring at him.

Idiots.

The dormhead will order Ruggie to put an stop to these rumors, he doesn't care how. The latter feels kind of lost on how to do such a thing, so Leona orders him to send any nosy Nancy to him. He'll have a private talk with them.

Speaking of talks....ugh, it seems like he'll have to talk to you too, to clear his name.

Though you aren't that idiotic to believe that he is the secret admirer, right?

"Listen, herbivore...you know me. You know how I am. I'm not your secret admirer."

He is brief. However...depending on your reaction, Leona might leave with his mood more sour than usual.

Either you wanted him to the admirer...and he isn't. Or you were relieved he was not...meaning you never wanted him.

No matter how it might turn out, Leona will make a face and leave without a word.

Ruggie Bucchi

Eh, heheh...what?

That isn't funny...

Really, really confused. Are people really suspecting him to be the - the secret admirer? Ha! Shishishi! Th-that's ri-ridicilous...!

Sheepishly laughs any questions off. It can't be...are his feelings really that obvious?!

Ruggie tries to shrug them off and get on with his daily life but the more this holds on, the more curious his dormmates become and the more embarrassed and annoyed he gets.

Like, seriously! What's this supposed to be, huh?! You tryin't to ruin his already ruined reputation?!

He can't have that! Just imagining what Leona would do...

Despite the embarrassment, Ruggie is more annoyed than anything. He always saw himself as a sneaky fella, so to hear how clear and obvious his favouring is to you, is...inconvinient.

He first tries to lighten the mood, joking at his own expense that he could no way be the secret admirer. C'mon, look at him!

Cannot really give any reasons to his defense though. It would make it seem like...he likes you less and his hard work that he did for you was for nothing.

The only time he is honest with everything is when he goes to you to explain himself.

"Hey...I know what you've heard and what yer thinkin' maybe, shihishi...but, uh, it ain't me. I mean, c'mon! Look at me! I'm already working myself to the bone, that extra work would leave me bedridden, haha..."

Ruggie clears his throat, sheepishly avoiding your gaze.

Jack Howl

Now this could be interesting.

Suspecting Leona and Ruggie to be the secret admirer is a bit of an far-fetched idea...but most students agree that it makes the most sense if Jack was the admirer actually.

"Think about it!", One students says, "The rough and tough Jakc...he's always taking care of the prefect so sweetly...he must have a secret romantic side that he can only show as the secret admirer!"

Jack is....flabbergasted to say the least.

Him??? The secret admirer - and WHAT ARE THEY SAYING??? SECRETLY A ROMANTIC???

UHM- No! No, that's not true at all!

>:(

He tries to act all offended and angry...but that is a shield to hide his embarrassment.

Jack wouldn't consider himself that harsh...and that reversed either but...him being a romantic at heart secretly and...l-longing for you?! C'mon, that's a made up story! Anyone can see that!

Honestly though! Do people seriously think he'd go out of the way to become some secret admirer to show his aff-affections and l-love to you...?! Th-that's...! Ugh!

Genuinely upset and lost. He doesn't want to hear any of this! Especially since it is true but noone would believe him obviously!

He growls and snarls and while that does scare many away, others believe that only amplifies his true feelings and how he uses an nonchalant, rude attitude to hide them!

Shut up! not like it is kinda true thou

Jack is just...stumped. Completely stuck. He asks for Ruggie's, Ace's and Deuce's help to just somehow...get all of this to stop!

(Ace may suspect him to be the secret admirer since how incredibly and sincerely kind he is to you...and he may be jealous, while Deuce, red in the face, straight up and loudly asks with a stutter if he really is the admirer! - Which Jack immediately denies.)

Ruggie knows Jack to not be careless and as an honest soul, so he suggests to have him clear his name to you. It might help.

So he does. With narrowed eyes that avoid your own, a hand scratching his neck and a deep, scarlet blush dusting his face.

"Uhm...everyone's...I mean, everybody's been so...obnoxiously loud and confident in their claims but...you know it isn't me, right? Because it isn't. I would never lie to you."

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #gender neutral imagine #twisted wonderland x reader #savanaclaw #savanaclaw x reader #secret admirer #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl

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thetarsier · 1 year

Note

heyyy!! i hope you’re well!! i was hoping you could write a jealous!aaron x reader where she’s basically getting hit on while she’s at girls night and maybe penelope snaps a picture of her and the guy and sends it to the BAU gc and aaron basically drives over and suprises you because he was jealous

a/n: hi! thank you for the request, lovely, i was so excited to write this one :)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/notes: drinking, asshole-type men (yes that's a warning)

<3: aaron hotchner x fem!reader, established relationship

Girls' night always - always - ended in one of your own getting hit on. Usually, it was JJ, but Emily fielded her fair share of creepy drunk men. Penelope tended to go after men herself, and you were the quiet one that laughed along with the others at the strange men eyeing them up. Rarely were you ever the target of their affections.

It was something that the other girls constantly tried to change, with JJ repeatedly pointing you out to the men who came over to the table (which almost always ended in you ducking away to the bathroom until the guy got the hint). They didn’t know that you were more than content being an observer of their conversations, happy to celebrate the numbers Emily and Penelope received and laugh over the rejections of the men that came after JJ.

They didn’t know, because they all still thought that you were single. You’d never told them otherwise, and that was mostly because of who you were currently dating: Aaron Hotchner, your boss.

It was a connection that blossomed over the many years of you being at the BAU, not the same as some rushed, half-assed attempt to score during a night out. He loved you, and you loved him, and you were trying to take it slow out of the eyes of your coworkers. It’d worked for almost two years now with only a few minor slip-ups that were easy to explain away to the people who’d witnessed them.

Not Rossi, however. Rossi had you two figured out almost as soon as you started to take things seriously, and now he acted as your protector. He changed subjects, scolded, and made those who questioned you or Aaron seem stupid. He was the perfect person to have as a secret keeper, mostly because he didn’t have it in him to care that much.

And he’d done a beautiful job, too. It was a running joke on the BAU group chat that Penelope’s mission on your nights out was to find you someone to go home with. This was why, despite your usual invisibility, when a guy approached you at the bar, you were left alone with him, your girlfriends disappearing into the crowd around you.

“-And so, yeah, I would say I’m self-made. I mean, my dad did lend me most of the money I used to actually start up, and all of my customers came from the family company, too, but I run the place, you know?” The guy interrupted his ramblings to take a sip from his beer, and you continued your nodding.

You were used to listening to fast ramblings, thanks to Spencer, but usually his monologues were interesting, and you could follow them with relative fascination. This guy was just… awful. At storytelling, and being a good conversationalist in general.

“He hasn’t stopped talking this whole time,” JJ observed from their table, shaking her head, “Can’t imagine he’s particularly decent.”

“She hasn’t walked away, yet, though,” Emily shrugged, “Maybe he’s like Reid?”

“Does he look like Reid?” Penelope pulled her phone out of her bag, “Doesn’t matter. Mission half accomplished - everyone has to see this.”

She snapped a photo of the two of you, him leaning into you, you leaning onto the bar. From an outsider's perspective, with the angle that Penelope had taken the photo, it might have looked like you were enjoying his advances more than you actually were. You felt the vibration in your pocket as Penelope sent your photo to the group chat, but you didn’t look, too focussed on how you were going to get out of the man’s company without causing a scene to care about what your phone was doing.

“Oh, look,” Emily pointed to Penelope’s phone, “Morgan’s already responded-” She switched to a lower tone of voice as she read out the man’s text. “-Doesn’t count, Babygirl. Nobody’s gone home yet.”

“He’s right, you know,” JJ looked back at you and the man, “And I don’t think this is a match made in heaven.”

“I can’t keep losing this bet!” Penelope complained as she shoved her phone back in her bag and sat down, disheartened.

“Ha!” Emily laughed, looking at her own phone, “Hotch has seen it.”

“Oh, that’s embarrassing,” JJ stifled her own laugh by taking a sip of her drink, “Delete it, Garcia. Her boss has seen that.”

“He’s seen it all - he’s in the group chat,” Penelope defended, “Maybe the embarrassment of her constant failure will lure her into a perfect match.”

“That makes sense,” Emily commented sarcastically, eyes roaming over the crowd.

You laughed politely at the man’s joke before averting your eyes down to your lemonade. You weren’t supposed to be the designated driver - the four of you were meant to get a cab - but once you’d found out about Penelope’s plan, you’d switched to non-alcoholic drinks.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust yourself, but you studied serial killers and rapists for a living, and you knew that some men liked to take advantage. If you were drunk, you couldn’t defend yourself as well as if you were sober. Usually, it wasn’t an issue - you had your girls - but sometimes the anxiety was too much for you to enjoy a drink, and that anxiety only increased tenfold when you were left alone with a guy.

The man’s droning on was getting so tedious that when you looked over his shoulder and saw Aaron - neat suit and all - you thought you had imagined him. Then, when he started moving closer, you started to worry that he would get the wrong idea.

But, he knew you, and you could tell by his caution that he was well aware of how you were feeling, tuned into your discomfort. Once you’d confirmed that your boyfriend was, in fact, in the same bar as you, you smiled and communicated with your eyes something that you hoped sounded like: ‘Get the hell over here right now.’

“Excuse me,” Aaron attached himself to your side, and you instantly felt safer, “What are we talking about over here?”

“Hey, back off, man,” The guy stood up straighter, and Aaron slipped an arm around your waist, “I’ve been talking to her all night.”

“Yes, and clearly it was riveting conversation,” Aaron eyed the many empty bottles surrounding the two of you and then your own singular glass of lemonade with disdain, “But it’s time to say goodnight.”

He didn’t even allow the man to say anything else, just used his grip on your waist to spin the two of you around and toward where he knew the girls were sitting. His arm left your waist once the two of you were no longer shielded by other people, and as you approached the tall table, sliding into the spare chair, you scowled at Penelope.

“Next time you try to set me up against my will, at least make sure he’s not a jerk.”

“Next time, my love.” She promised, placing a warm hand on your shoulder.

Aaron stood to your right, in between you and JJ, and you gestured to him as you looked between your three friends, “Look at who had to come and save me,” You feigned annoyance, and acted as though you were secretly telling the girls of your embarrassment, “How did you even know we were here?”

“Oh, my God. He saw the photo.” Penelope gasped.

“The what?”

“Garcia put a photo of you and the guy on the group chat to try and prove that she’d succeeded in her mission,” JJ admitted, amusement swimming in her blue eyes as she looked between you and Aaron.

“Oh, you’re asking for an HR case,” You pointed a finger at the flamboyant blonde, who smiled sweetly at you, tucking her hands underneath her chin, “You sent a picture of me at a bar to all of my colleagues?”

“If it makes you feel any better, Morgan said it doesn’t count.”

“Oh, great, so you sent my picture to my colleagues, and it didn’t even count.” You were only joking with them, and each of them was well aware of that fact.

“Still,” Emily turned her attention back to Aaron, “Why are you here?”

You also turned to look back at him as he rubbed the back of his neck. He clearly hadn’t thought much past the initial urge to save you from your misery, and you were sure that not even Rossi could’ve lied your way out of the situation.

“Um…” He narrowed his eyes, brain working overtime for something believable, “I was here already for, the, uh…”

His eyes darted down to yours in desperation. You laughed at him, leaning your head back onto his shoulder and reaching your hand down to grab at his. The secrecy was on your account, as most things in your relationship were; not only because he was technically your boss, but also because he was head-over-heels obsessed with you. It was created on your account, and you would be the one to break it.

“Okay, guys, there’s a reason why I never go home with anyone from the bar…” You grinned, peeking up at Aaron from where the back of your head rested just below his chin before you looked back at the girls.

Penelope was shocked into silence, her mouth wide open, hands stuck out by her sides, JJ was sporting a happy smile of her own, and Emily had a hand over her mouth, eyes blown with shock. After a few seconds of silence, where Aaron squeezed your hand to soothe both of your nerves, the group sprung into action.

“Oh, my God!” Emily chuckled, “I knew there was something going on. I knew it!”

“Oh, this is… This is…” Penelope waved her hands around.

“Wonderful,” JJ finished, reaching over to touch your other hand that rested on the table, “And congratulations - you had everyone fooled.”

“It’s been hard,” You conceded, “Sometimes during hard cases, it was slightly too hard, but we’ve gotten through it.”

“Oh, you guys,” Penelope tilted her head to the side, “You’re too adorable.”

“And on that note,” You smiled, picking up your purse, “I think we should probably go.”

You said your goodbyes, and Aaron managed to get out his own through his uncharacteristic blushes and stutters, and you made your way out to Aaron’s car, hand in hand.

“Why did you come?” You asked him out of curiosity once he’d climbed into his side of the car.

“Honest answer?” He raised an eyebrow and you nodded, turning your body towards his, “Really, I saw that photo of you with the guy, and I didn’t even think about it. I just got in the car.”

“Oh, you were jealous,” You teased, poking his arm gently, “It’s okay, Hotchner, I’m all yours, anyway.”

“Good,” He leaned over the centre console, fingers gripping your chin and encouraging your face closer to his, “Because I’m all yours.”

Each of his kisses was a seal to his promise.

It was only in the morning, when you finally checked your phone after a night with Aaron, that you realised another photo had been snapped of you. One of you and Aaron walking out of the bar holding hands. Penelope had sent it to the group chat with the message ‘Mission finally successful.’

The group chat had barely shut up since, question after question rolling into your inbox.

You groaned, falling back into your pillow, where Aaron kissed a path from the tip of your middle finger to your cheek, smiling against your skin.

“If it makes you feel any better, Dave will stop bothering us about telling the truth now,” He mumbled into your neck, and you sighed, a smile on your face as you played with his hair.

“Very true, Hotchner. Just remember: it was your jealousy that got us into this mess, so you’re dealing with the questions we’re going to get.”

He laughed into your skin, an agreement.

#aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #but h'sversion

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onceuponastory · 1 year

Text

one single word - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: In a world where the first thing your soulmate says to you is somewhere on your body, Y/N soon realises that hers is not what she expected... or what she wants. (Soulmate!AU). Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Just some swearing and reader worrying she's going to end up alone. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is my piece for @lunarbuck's Soulmate AU writing challenge! Congrats on 2k! Also can't believe it took me so long to use a pic of Seb from this day because he looked SO GOOD. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Has your word shown up yet? Just got mine!” Wanda’s text comes in. Groaning, Y/N types back a reply.

“Yup.” Immediately, Wanda sends another.

“It’s that bad? I’ll be straight over.” She promises, and Y/N goes back to staring at herself in the mirror, unable to tear her gaze away from the word which is now on her side. From a young age, Y/N and everyone else in this world were told that when they got older, the first words their soulmate said to them would soon appear on their body somewhere, disappearing only when they met the soulmate in question. And of course, it led to a lot of excitement and nervous apprehension as people wondered what words would be there, and imagined what scenario they’d meet their soulmate in.

None more so than Y/N. As she grew up, she became an author, which meant that writing loving words about others became her job, and something she now has a huge amount of experience in. All day every day, she writes paragraph after paragraph of people describing how beautiful their partners are, how much their heart beats whenever they’re around, and how they want to spend the rest of eternity with them. And the entire time, Y/N’s own soulmate is in the back of her mind, as well as her hope that their first meeting is as romantic as her stories. So obviously, Y/N had grown to expect that the words - her words - that her soulmate would end up having on their skin would be something beautiful, like poetry.

Unfortunately for Y/N, though, it seems her soulmate didn’t have the same consideration for her.

Because there, on her side, emblazoned in huge letters is one single word. “Fuck.” “It’s not that bad.” Wanda soothes as she studies the word. Thankfully, she showed up soon after receiving Y/N’s text for moral support.

“Yes, it is! Today I wrote someone saying their lover’s eyes are as bright as the stars, and with them they feel whole. And do I get that? No, I get ‘Fuck!’”

“Maybe he’s saying ‘Fuck.’ but then he says ‘you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen’?”

“Or it could be ‘fuck’ because they stepped on my toes. Or maybe they dropped coffee on me? Or-” Y/N shakes her head, trying to shake herself out of her panic. Yet, it only intensifies. “And besides, it’s such a general word! What if I get confused and think someone else is my soulmate?”

“That isn’t going to happen. Personally, I think we have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.”

“You’re such a romantic, Wanda.”

“Says you.” She rolls her eyes. When Y/N freaks out a little again, Wanda shushes her with a gentle: “Calm down. You’re going to give me a headache at this rate. And besides, it could be worse! Mine is ‘Hello there’. What even is that?!” she groans, taking another sip from her drink.

“Oh please, yours is suave and sophisticated.” Y/N argues. “Maybe it’s a ‘Hello there.’” She mimes a smirk, looking Wanda up and down. “And then he says, ‘may I just say that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?’”

“Either that or they’re doing a horrendously bad Obi-Wan Kenobi impression.” Wanda counters, making her and Y/N dissolve into fits of giggles. “But seriously. You don’t know what causes him to say that. Nobody does. That’s the beauty of soulmates.” She grins reassuringly. “And besides, I’m sure it’ll be a funny story to tell your kids one day.”

And for a while, her reassuring words worked, and Y/N's feelings about the word permanently inked onto her side improved slightly. But the longer time went on without meeting her soulmate, Y/N started to think they don’t exist at all. And what’s worse, she’d be stuck with this single word on her side for the rest of her life, an enduring reminder of her failure to find her true love.

A few months later,

Y/N walks down the street, preoccupied by her phone call. Her publisher has been ringing her almost every day this week, desperate to know when they can expect her next manuscript. The same manuscript that’s been sitting incomplete on her laptop for the last several months. Understandably, love hasn’t been high on the list of Y/N’s priorities ever since she realised what her soulmate’s first word to her was.

When she catches sight of herself in a shop window, noticing the hem of her sweater has ridden up, exposing the k and most of the c of the word on her side, it makes her feel worse. Of course, she still hasn’t found her soulmate. Nothing like yet another reminder of how you’re failing in life. Quickly rolling down her sweater, covering the word that seems to be burned into her skin by this point, Y/N keeps walking. In a last-ditch attempt to find some productivity and get this fucking manuscript finished, she’s decided to visit her favourite coffee shop. That and she just really wants an iced coffee.

“When…if I ever find my soulmate, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.” She huffs, reaching out to grab the door handle to the coffee shop. Before she can open it, the door slams open, almost hitting her in the face. Luckily, Y/N manages to dodge the figure that almost crashes into her. This is the last fucking thing she needs right now. She rounds on the man, ready to give him a piece of her mind, to ask him, no, demand that he looks where he’s going next time, and be careful!

That’s what she wanted to say. What she should’ve said.

The beautiful pair of blue eyes she suddenly finds herself staring into stops her. As blue as the sky on a gorgeous summer's day, as blue as the ocean, inviting her into their depths. This man is gorgeous. His muscles bulge out through the blue shirt (the same colour as his eyes) he has opened over a vest top. His brunette hair is pulled into a man bun, a few loose tendrils sticking out. The man’s eyes widen as he takes her all in, realising how close he came to spilling his coffee all over her.

And then he speaks.

“Fuck.” He murmurs, his voice just loud enough for her and only her to hear. Immediately, Y/N registers her heartbeat stop.

“What did you just say?” She gasps. Instead of repeating his words, the man’s eyes widen even more, almost bulging out of his head. He rolls down the sleeve of his shirt, displaying the slowly fading words printed on his shoulder.

“What did you just say?”

“Does yours say ‘fuck’, by any chance?” The man chuckles, still clearly in shock, and wordlessly, Y/N nods, lifting her sweater to show him.

“Oh, my god.” They both speak at the same time. The man holds a hand out, which Y/N shakes. “I’m Bucky. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” Nervously he rubs the back of his neck, and Y/N notices a burst of pink spreading across his cheeks. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous?” He stammers a little. “Sorry, I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to say right now. It’s not everyday you meet your soulmate.”

“We have a strong, intense emotional bond with them, so we’ll just know it’s them when we see them.” Wanda’s words echo in her mind, and Y/N’s shock turns into a smile, all thoughts of giving her soulmate a piece of her mind gone as quickly as the word on her side. At first she brushed Wanda’s words aside, but she’s actually totally right. Being with Bucky, it finally feels right. Like the missing pieces she’s spent so long looking for are finally in place.

“I know.” Y/N nods. “But it’s completely understandable. To be honest, I’m still in shock too. I’m Y/N by the way.”

"Y/N." Bucky smiles.“I am sorry for almost spilling my coffee over you.” He chuckles, and Y/N giggles.

“Already forgotten about.”

“I, um, I need to head off, but how about we grab some dinner tonight?” Bucky grins. “We have a lifetime to catch up on.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Y/N smiles.

It may not have been the most perfect meeting… at least, not compared to her romance novels, but Y/N doesn’t care. Because it turned out to be perfect for her.

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tinybitsubby · 1 year

Text

****Disclaimer: this is not my list. (meaning I don’t like/prefer/agree with everything on it)

Several months ago I was down some rabbit hole and found a message board where someone had asked a question about having a D/s oriented vacation and people responded. I went to visit it recently and it doesn’t exist anymore. I had copied it to notes to send to the Hubz at one point and thought I’d share it here and see what you all think of it. Thoughts? Ideas? Copy and pasted below.

——————————

Someone asked a d/s chat room ideas to turn a romantic tropical vacation into a major D/s getaway for those exploring D/s.

1. Start off on the right foot. Spank her ass right before the flight or drive so it’s uncomfortable to sit during travel. Maybe tell her to sit still when she keeps shifting in her seat.

2. Tell her that unless thr public can hear, just for this trip she must always address you as sir. Punish forgetfulness.

3. Make her kneel every morning.

4. Objectify her by shoving a few fingers deep into her mouth a few times a day. Call her good girl and watch her gag for a minute then wipe her runny eyes and move on like nothing happened. My wife/sub says this type of brief degradation flips her mindset so fast. She hates it but loves the complicated emotional part.

5. Since the owiest part of anal is the initial insertion, tell her that she will be announcing every single time she’s about to get in the shower so he can come to the bathroom in a minute. When he comes in she must lube up her clean asshole and degrade herself by holding her own ass open for him. He will sink his dick all the way in and hold it there while she tells him a reason why she deserves to take his cock up her ass. If she can’t think of a good reason, the dick stays in until she does. Not fucking her, just staying in there stretching her open. Then he rinses off and leaves so she can shower. An uncomfortable size of dildo (not plug) can be used instead if he doesn’t like to get erections and then let them fade. I’m not into anal except for the very subby headspace it creates. It makes me feel so vulnerable and it’s kind of painful. We did this on a trip and it became a true exercise in submission as I got more and more sore. When he sat me down to tell me this would happen, it really set the tone for the trip. Don’t discount this idea. Also Halfway through the trip we had anal sex which is rare for us and it made every shower insertion after that more uncomfortable and really upped our D/s. Seriously, try it, especially if anal is really not her thing. She’ll feel like such a good sub. You want her to feel like a good sub for submitting in ways that are uncomfortable. Please try this! PS If she loves anal, don’t do this, hahaha. PPS. Since we got home he sometimes says tell me when you get in the shower next and I know this will happen and it reminds me of our trip when we solidified our DS.

6. Bring an implement she doesn’t like and tell her she must ask for 10 hard strokes every day by a certain time. Obviously No anger or lectures just checking it off the to-do list. If she forgets and the time passes, she gets 25 or more instead. You should know Tears are ok in the D/s dynamic. If you’re flying and don’t want to take implements then you always have a belt or a brush.

7. Spit in her mouth every time no one is looking

8. Let her know before you leave that even if she’s a very good girl, there will be tears twice on this trip to remind her of her submission. Make her ask for one of the times and surprise her with the other. You get to choose what makes her cry. Don’t overlook the power of this emotional release for a sub. This secretly also teaches her to ask for an emotional release when she feels it could be beneficial to her mental state or the relationship.

9. Tell her she cannot cum until the third day of the trip. Then have lots of sex the first two days.

10. If you are leaving town, make her dress like a total slut

11. Bruises man. Give her some really good butt bruises and then spend time every day, poking pinching and spanking them. It keeps her hyper aware of her place. A 1.5” dowel from hardware can give bruises in just a handful of strikes without chaffing the skin too much like stingy implements do because they take too many strikes to get a bruise.

12. Tell her that on this trip, if she has an alcoholic drink in her hand, there will also be a plug in her ass. No exceptions. Going to order a drink with lunch? Go plug that ass before we leave. For added fun, you pick the size each time. Alternatively, if that’s not possible, you could just tell her that whenever your dick is going in her pussy on this trip, there will also be a plug in her ass at the same time. Or alternate days.

13. She’s doesn’t get to orgasm on this trip.

14. Tell her she will kneel and suck your balls every time you change clothes. “Sorry, you have to come back to the room with me because I’m changing into my bathing suit.”

15. Make her stay naked every minute you’re alone.

16. Call her trashy names.

17. Whatever you want to do to Dom her, whatever your desire or fantasy is, do that. BUT, tell her in detail hours in advance. A sub’s brain goes haywire when told something like this. “Look at me. Tomorrow I’m going to spank you very hard and you’re going to hold very still. I’m going to cum when I’m done but how I cum is going to depend on how well you take your spanking. If you can stay still I’ll just sink into your cunt and that will be that. But if I have to keep telling you to get back into position or keep your feet down I’ll cum down your throat and if I have to wrestle you at all during your spanking, I’m fucking your ass and continuing to spank it.” Or just tell casually with a smile you know after dinner I’m going to fuck your face and slap it hard every time you need to pause to breathe. Etc.

18. I’m jealous. I want a D/s vacation! Just stuff holes all the time. Anytime you think of it, put your fingers, dick or toy into one of her holes for minute. Let her know her body will be invaded over and over on the trip multiple times a day and occasionally during the night. Make sure you tell her to expect it because then her mind will be on it all the time.

19. Flirt with other women and make her sit quietly and smile. Maybe kiss one.

20. Fig her. Especially if you can’t spank because of noise. At least 20 minutes, the heat doesn’t peak until 15. If you’re flying and can’t take ginger, China Gel on your thumb is almost as good.

21. Bind her and make her wait patiently while totally bored. If rope is a travel issue, take some medical tape.

22. Get her pregnant

23. Clothespins. Use them a lot. Is she sucking your dick, put them on her labia. Are you fucking her, put them on her nipples. Are you spanking her, put a row of several down the skin of her tummy or back on her labia. They keep her on edge and feeling subby. I’m not kidding try them because the ache when they are removed is like nothing else. If she’s sunning by the pool, maybe there’s one hidden somewhere for a while.

24. Just fucking Dom her, use the time to make your own D/s dreams come true. She wants you to take control.

25. Fuck man this list is great but maybe only pick a few.

26. Give her a daily writing assignment if you have relaxing time. Give her a question that is hard to talk about and demand honesty. Better yet, both of you share.

27. Tell her she can’t say no on this trip. Goes without saying, but respect hard limits.

28. Make her wear dresses with no panties. Pull it up every time no one is looking. Smack her pussy, or finger fuck her or sit back and admire. Just mix it up. Fuck her before you go somewhere so she has to feel jizz running down her legs.

29. Make her skip a meal now and then to watch you eat

30. Randomly tell her to head back to the room and masterbate to orgasm. Or to only get really close to it. Give her a time limit.

31. Choke her out. Maybe she wakes up in a compromising position.

32. If she’ll be wearing bathing suits, only spank or strap her on one side. She’ll be miserable with all the counts on only one side and if anything should show, it will just look like she took a tumble or something with a bruise or welt on just one side. It’s the symmetry that lets people know what’s up.

33. If there’s a need for a punishment spanking on the trip, do it in diaper position. It’s intense because you can see her face. Make sure you’re ready to handle seeing her face during a punishment as some Doms just can’t handle it.

34. Tell her you won’t be touching her vag once on the trip. Her other holes will be used as you see fit daily. You can put a binder clip on her labia to hold it closed to prove your point.

35. Carve a souvenir scar into her.

36. Tell anytime she wants to cum she’ll have to pick between two things she doesn’t like first. Get her close to orgasm so she’s really needy and then say I want you to come but first A or B. If she doesn’t pick in 10 seconds, she gets both then back to the orgasm.

37. Pick a window of time each day that she cannot speak

38. Tell her she must wake you up with her mouth every day.

39. Take medical gloves and do cold inspections of her. Make her feel like an object.

40. No eye contact for the trip.

41. Dude just tell her this trip will be rough. Rough sex, rough spanking, rough manhandling. Just make things challenging for her and then get through them together. That’s all we subs want. We want to endure a hard challenge for you and then be called a good girl for enduring it. You get to be the guy setting up whatever challenge turns you on AND be the support system when it’s emotional for her. That’s all of D/s!!!

42. Edge her. You can do it or she can, but lots of random edging to keep her needy all day.

43. Golden showers.

44. Make all decisions for her. Tell her when to get up, when to sleep, when to use the bathroom, what to wear, order her foodand drinks without consulting her. Tell her when sex is happening and what type. If it’s too much, just pick one day where she can’t make a decision.

45. If you’ve never slapped her face, start on this trip. Maybe just a couple times at first and then build up to several times in a row during some form of sex. Require eye contact. Let her tear up and let her go through the range of emotions. While looking at you and enduring it, let her feel your support, but then slap her again. As a submissive this is for real an emotional growth as a couple and can be meaningful. Talk to her about it the next day. Tell her she’s so good for taking it in and you’re going to slap her again soon.

46. Spank her very hard right before the trip so the little spankings here and there actually hurt quickly. Wipe tears and give hugs. This hard and soft feedback at the same time feeds a sub like you wouldn’t believe.

47. Don’t let her sleep in pajamas. Always nude. She’ll get used to it.

48. Force too much Alcohol/weed into her and then discuss both of your darkest fantasies.

49. Slap that pussy every chance you get. Keep it just a little sore.

#d/s marriage #24/7 d/s #real d/s #d/s real life #dom/sub #domestic discipline #d/s lifestyle #spankin #d/s #submissivewife

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k-tarotz · 5 months

Text

P a i d R e a d i n g s

[ Open ]

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Hi and welcome to our paid readings post, we hope you will have fun while looking around. thank you for your time 𓆩♡𓆪

➥ CURRENT SALE: None

✦ if you will be interested in a reading or multiple ones please text us the name of the readings you would like to purchase, your initials, email and anything you think might be relevant, then we will provide a link/email where you can send your payment to. ✧ ˚ · .

͏✿ if none of our listed paid readings interest you, we can always modify one of the readings for you or make your very own reading with your own chosen questions (whole sections) we can decide the price for those in our dms ✧

𝐈. ASTRO ·.༄࿔

ᡣ𐭩 our astrology readings might take a bit longer to deliver, so please keep that in mind while looking through options. we also excel at tarot more, as that is requested more for us. regardless we will do our best with your reading.

𝓒. Future Lover ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ details about your future spouse . . . 50,50£

𝓒. Fire x Water ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ the fate between you and your twinflame . . . 40,50£

𝓒. Us, Now & Forever ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ compatibility reading between you and the person of your choice . . . 55,50£

𝐈𝐈. Idol ·.༄࿔

ᡣ𐭩 please keep in mind that we will be respectful of idol’s privacy while doing these readings! if their higher self doesn’t allow us or you to know something we will simply not put it in the reading. not as a way to do it half heartedly, but to respect them even in spiritual terms. these readings are for fun, not to be taken seriously.

𝓒. Ace of Coins ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ what is it like to live together with the idol of your choice . . . 35£

disc.: includes 7 section’s & pictures (moodboard~)

𝓒. The Star ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ you as the new member in your fave group . . . 32£

disc: you don’t have to be the same gender.

𝓒. The Lovers ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ you and your bias in a romantic relationship . . . 25£

𝓒. Three of Cups ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ friendship between you and an idol of your choice . . . 25$

𝓒. Knight of Cups ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your soul connection with idol of your choice . . . 25£

𝓒. The Sun ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ how does the group of your choice view you . . . 32£

disc.; for groups over 7 members it’s 32£+ as this is a reading that requires a lot of energy.

𝓒. Ace of Wands ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ which idol(s) are most similar to your future spouse . . . 25£

𝓒. The World ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ how will your biases next year be like? . . . 25£

𝓒. Chanel N° 5 ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ you and your celebrity crush in a romantic relationship . . . 25£

𝓒. Seven of Cups ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your idol’s ideal types . . . 10,50£

𝓒. Go Big or Go Home ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ detailed dynamics between the group of your choice . . . 25,50£

disc.; for 7+ members it costs more

𝓒. BFF ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ you and the idol of your choice as best friends . . . 25£

𝓒. Peekaboo ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ how the idol of your choice if viewed by people . . . 27,50£

𝓒. Sweet Venom ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ compatibility between you and the kpop group of your choice . . . 18,50£

𝓒. Polaroid Love ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ did you share a past life with your idol/bias? . . . 22£

𝓒. When I Grow Up ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your life as a celebrity/idol . . . 20£

𝓒. Ditto ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ you in a k-pop music video . . . 19,90£

𝓒. Replay ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ which of your biases are you most compatible with? . . . 20,50£

𝐈𝐈𝐈. Romantic ·.༄࿔

ᡣ𐭩 these readings can both be about your future spouse or crush. we do not judge, so pick whatever is most comfortable for you.

𝓒. X.O ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ do you have a secret admirer? . . . 16,50£

𝓒. Red String of Fate ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ a person who will serve a romantic purpose in your future, but is not your future spouse . . . 32£

𝓒. Aurora Lights ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ compatibility between you and your special person . . . 16£

𝓒. Love ABCS ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ describing everything your person loves about you . . . 30£

𝓒. Red light Green light ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ red and green flags of the person of your choice . . . 11£

𝓒. Serendipity ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your future partners initials and zodiac/birth month . . . 5£

disc.; this is done through pendulum. not an indepth question.

𝓒. Starlight ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your crush’s view on you . . . 16,50£

𝓒. Tied to The Soul ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ have you already met your future spouse? . . . 18,50£

𝓒. Crush on You ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ would your crush reciprocate your love? . . . 15,50£

𝓒. Love Potion ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ what do people love about you . . . 15£

𝓒. Tell Me Tell Me ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ channeled message from your future spouse . . . 6,50£

𝓒. Heart to Heart ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your future spouse as a person . . . 18£

𝓒. My Universe ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ a reading on you and your fictional other . . . 10,50£

𝓒. Pretty Little Liars ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ we will tell you if x and y are/were/will be in a relationship or if one has a crush on the other . . . 22,22£

disc: this can be about anyone you desire as long as it’s within appropriate limits / boundaries

𝓒. Nova’s Fashion ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your next partner’s fashion . . . 17,77£

𝓒. Stupid Cupid ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your future spouses/crush’s/bias’ different styles in love. . . 17,77£

𝓒. Luna(r) Lovegood ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ compatibility with your special person based on tarot and your chinese zodiacs. . . 15,55£

𝓒. Crush Landing On You ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ if you were an actress/actor in your favourite k-drama and who you might end up with. . . 25,55£

𝐈𝐕. Intimate Readings ·.༄࿔

ᡣ𐭩 these are 18+ readings and can get very explicit with descriptions, please keep that in mind before buying! these readings are preferably about future spouse, you alone or people you have already had positive interactions with. minors cannot purchase anything from this section.

𝓒. Dirty Dancing 18+ ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ the intimate life of you and your future spouse . . . 26,50£

𝓒. The Devil 18+ ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ what makes you desirable to others? . . . 19,50£

𝓒. Lover 18+ ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ what will your first time be like? . . . 19,50£

𝓒. Lucky Charm 18+ ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ the kinks of your future spouse/crush . . . 17£

disc.; crush must know you on a personal level

𝓒. Honeymoon 18+ ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ everything about your honeymoon . . . 25,50£

𝐕. Generic ·.༄࿔

ᡣ𐭩 these are a mix of readings that you can apply to life as a whole. feel free to choose whichever you wish to.

𝓒. Baby Shark ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ will you have children in the future?. . . 27£

𝓒. 10 Years ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ an insight into your future. . . 25£

𝓒. Lady Dior ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your story as royalty . . . 18,50£

𝓒. Silver Dragon ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ you as a mythical being . . . 15£

𝓒. Jeanne D’arc ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ what would it be like for you to live in the past . . . 15£

𝓒. To Be or Not To Be ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ should you do/purchase the thing you are thinking of? . . . 12,50£

𝓒. Cat Eye ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ things you might be good at but not realise . . . 13,50£

𝓒. Dynamic Duo ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ dynamic between two people you are curious of . . . 15£

𝓒. Upper Side Dreaming ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ what your dream is trying to tell you . . . 10,50£

𝓒. Paw in Paw ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ a reading about your animal guides . . .15,50£

𝓒. Two of Wands ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ career advice from your guides . . . 15,50£

𝓒. Aurora ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ what does your aura look like? . . . 15,50£

𝓒. One In A Billion ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ what was your past life like? . . . 20£

𝓒. Me, Myself & I ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ your life in another universe . . . 17£

𝓒. StarFire ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ who are your spirit guides . . . 15,55£

𝓒. Teddy Bear ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ a reading on how you can connect more to your inner child . . . 10,50£

𝓒. 7 Days A Week ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ a reading about how your next week will be like . . . 14,50£

𝓒. Limitless ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ a reading about how your next month will be like . . . 20£

𝓒. The Wheel of Fortune ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ how will your life go next year? . . . 25£

𝓒. Yes or No ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ simple yes or no question, but in depth . . . 4,44£

disc.; if you don’t want an indepth answer it’s only 2£

𝓒. Mirror, Mirror ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ general reading of your choice . . . 4£

disc.; 4£ per question

𝐕𝐈. Platonic ·.༄࿔

ᡣ𐭩 these readings are about platonic connections, with whoever your heart desires to get them with.

𝓒. Other Half ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ initials and zodiac/birth month of your most important platonic soulmate . . . 5£

𝓒. Sound of The Wind ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ 4 long channeled messages from different people in your life . . . 17£

𝓒. Melody & Kuromi ୭

𓈒 ࣪ ˖ ୭ৎ ࣪ the dynamic between you and your friend . . . 15,50£

꒰ ౨ৎ 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 .ᐟ .ᐣ

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psychelis-new · 6 months

Text

pick a pile: "What type of karma/karmic cycle are you healing now"

[TW FILLED READING]

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read about what karmic cycle you are called to end in this moment and the triggers that may be related to it. it could be something from this life or a past life as well. piles seem to be interconnected somehow so if you're called by more than one pile, it's okay (but remember to focus on the word "now" when asking your question). reminder that I'm not a therapist of sort, so take everything with a grain of salt or just as an input to maybe navigate further within or contact a professional figure (if necessary according to you ofc). it's also a general reading so messages may not/all be for you.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life. readings do not substitute real life experience nor professionals/doctors advices.

(photos found on unsplash)

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pile 1 (relationships/communication)

You are probably healing something related to your connections/relationships. It could be something you couldn't see properly in your past (or at least you couldn't see from a different perspective) but now you are starting to realize or will soon. Maybe it's an habit you picked up in your early life, like wearing a mask in fear of being judged or left alone, or people pleasing, or always being there for others but feeling like a burden when it was you the one supposed to receive as much (and therefore acting as an independent person who doesn't need anything and for whom everything is fine). Maybe you also *fear* misinterpret others' behaviours in your regards, or you may overthinking if they are somehow betraying you or something. Like treating you in a certain way but actually thinking differently of you? Maybe you fear being lied to, somehow. And not being really appreciated unless you overgive and try to not bother them with your "problems" (which are problems ofc, but you may try to keep them for yourself and deal with them alone or deem them as less important than others' problems and put them in a second position -as you put yourself on a second choice level compared to others). You may be thinking: if you give so much and don't ask for anything in return, how could they leave you? It could be a reasonable thought, but at the end of the day it's not... Relationships are far more complex than this, and also very different (so maybe not everything in this pile may resonate with you).

Ofc it's understandable where you come from: you probably had been dealing with lies/betrayals/abandonment of different kind in your life and now it's hard to both be yourself and also trust others. But the message you send when you're being too self-reliant/independent (a silent cry for help despite what you're showing) cannot often be heard by them. All they can read between the lines is: "I'm okay, I don't need you". And ofc, this doesn't make people interested in you, especially if it's an habit of yours to keep them out of your needs (and out of your life: people cannot read our minds, and they're not here for that. But those who care would like to experience the joy of helping us, if we let them in and told them about us and what we need. They'd love to help us as much as we love to help them. They'd love to feel as happy and warm inside as we feel after we help them. But maybe first we need to stop and think about who we really are and what we really need from others, and from ourselves too. And let ourselves be vulnerable, knowing we can survive anything and that often others' reaction to us are not related inherently to us: we're not responsible of what they do with our trust/words).

You're learning how to properly communicate your needs, your fears and your boundaries. How to let others see you for who you are without any fear of judgement. How to be able to properly receive all that you wish for in a relationship. In order to do this, you need to take a brave step and look at what is going on from another perspective, different from the one that is suggesting you you're simply not good enough to have good and fulfilling relationships; or that you're unlovable or that people leaves cause you're just supposed to be alone forever. Or that everyone hates you. That is not so. Don't trust your wounded ego in this, do not follow its pattern into the hole. Be stronger than those fears, and see yourself as the lovely, kind and sweet human being you are. The very deserving of love and acceptance human being you are. And start by loving and accepting who you really are. You're not too much to bear with (as I read not long ago: when you fear being too much asking for something, it's generally because you didn't get enough of that). Analyze your relationships from a more objective point of view: we tend to see the "guilt" in the others (we blame them for abandoning us/letting us down, feeling resentful for how they treat us but also powerless when confronting them) or in ourselves (we're not enough for them/we cannot be seen and this may makes us angry too), but in relationships the truth is often halfway. And lack of proper communication, respect and understanding is what ruins everything (together with possibly not-compatible issues/traumas: if someone cannot give you what you ask for it's okay, other people will be able to fulfill your needs. Do not stuck/fixate yourself to receive from one single person everything you need, stay open. And let yourself be seen first: do not always wait for others to be interested in you to start with; at times it's hard for people to climb our walls and they may renounce, so at least lower them a little here and there, as you feel comfortable to. For as much as it can be okay to generally not be the one always taking the initiative, it's good to occasionally do that and show interest in the other as well). Anyway, don't be too harsh on yourself: you always acted and act for your best, to save yourself from pain, and you couldn't see that you probably were helping this pain staying alive, unconsciously searching for confirmations of its existance and of your inhability to have good relationships (maybe you were searching for them in the wrong places?). Forgive yourself and others (especially those who gaslighted, diminished, silenced or *unconsciously* taught you that you're not worthy first), and let things change for your best. Let your people find you.

For a few: If by any chance, you're not hiding yourself but actually trying to stand out or show yourself at any given time, it's probably the other face of the same coin. You try to get the attention you couldn't get to receive and what you learned is that to get it, you need to stand out or call for others/interrupt them, make them notice you, show you're as worthy if not more by being more vocal, and feel better about yourself after succeeding. Many people may not appreciate this or believe you do it as a form of egoism, but it's generally not so. Try to balance and listen to others too, do not just let your fear of ending up being unseen take you over and eclipse others (Ik you can't always see that cause you're trying to fulfill your own need and therefore unconsciously closing off from others' ones, but it can happen). You'll be seen as much as you need anyway. Be patient. :)

song: through the dark | vanbur

[if you're called by pile 3 as well, feel free to take a look + if you have been seeing lot of 3s, it could be a confirmation for this pile n.1 being yours]

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pile 2 (control/abandonment issues)

Out of all the piles, I think yours is the one needing more work, and also more patience, time and reflection/introspection. Be kind with yourself and go slow.

You're probably closing (or need to close) a chapter in regards to your need to be in control of what is going on in your future/life. You're deeply scared of the unknown, of not being able to control what is happening and probably you also fear not being able to take your own decisions but having to conform or accept whatever is going on for you. And ofc this is scary because the moment something you don't want to will happen, you won't have any other choice but to lower your head and obey/go with it. It's like you're caged. The future and this *fake* lack of control are making you pretty anxious and in need of knowing every detail of your life before taking any action, to be sure it's all okay. Maybe you also fear not being able to really close with this chapter and being trapped in it forever? As said, not knowing how things may turn out, would be too "risky" for you. I feel like it's also too scary to receive some kind of "no", whatever it may be about. It would crash you (or you think it would, somehow... but why?).

You probably need to separate yourself from what is going on around you. Nobody has real control on what life offers to us and when/how, nor on others' feelings about us (which only depend on how those people see us from their personal pov and based on their own experience of life, on their background: they can only have opinions of us based also on what we allow them to see of us). But we have whole control on ourselves, on our emotions and on how we respond to life and other people' choices/thoughts about us (what we make them mean about us). And we have control on what we want to do, how, when, why and if we want to say "no" to something. We have free will (I understand in some cultures and maybe also families it's a bit more complicated than this, but maybe you can get to at least politely talk and show your pov instead of giving up since the first minute? Or find a compromise on something else. Idk... Maybe it won't go as bad as you think, especially if you also silenced yourself out of fear in the past. Maybe the no's we've got in the past were about a specific thing for a reason, and not about everything as we think). I guess many times you just accepted your fate/destiny in the form of a decision taken by someone else (an authority figure of any type, from a boss to a parent... even tarot/astrology readings -excessive/anxious consume-?), without ever contraddicting them, feeling you're the one that doesn't know anything, feeling not enough to/inferior. Accepting what they were telling you about who you are and who you are supposed to be and obeying, living up to that (in pain and resentful, but still...). Or maybe this is also a way to save yourself from failing? If it's someone else guiding your life or telling you what to do/who you are, you won't have to take the blame of being "wrong" or feel guilty for having taken a "bad" decision and being a bad person, maybe. While it's good to get guidance and opinions in proper/healthy ways, we cannot let others take decisions for us all the times. They cannot live our whole life for us: we are beings that are too complex to be reduced to what others just perceive of us or want us to be. I think you may be dealing with perfectionism and fear of failure too: maybe you learned you need to keep specific high standards (in what you say, think, do...) to feel worthy/loved/appreciated, and not living up to them may mean, somehow, that you lost your self worth or it changed (lowered).

But that's not true: your self worth is always the same since the day you came on this Earth and it's the same as the one of everyone else on this planet, even if you cannot see it because of how you were/are treated or treated yoursef. Or feel you were treated: as kids we don't understand the reasons behind adults' behaviours, and if they too are not so emotionally stable or able to verbally explain things, it may be difficult to understand what is going on since we are learning all that from them (= esp. the "authority figures" around us: caregivers/parents/teachers/relatives...). We may make their reaction to us not being "perfect" (= not acting as they would want us to) mean we're not enough, we're bad, not deserving enough, and that we need to perform better to receive something good/praise/love and to obey to them, because we cannot take decisions that are correct. We're a failure and cannot do anything right. And we may risk losing them or them may let us down/abandon us if we don't perform well.

I think you need to move into known water, to know everything is good and will be good, so that you know you won't fail? Or that you won't be considered as "bad", whatever that bad means to you (probably that you're not worthy of something, of others, of... Idk). Not knowing/not having the control means you won't be sure of how things will be and if you will be able to make it, to survive (yes you will), to be considered well and... not abandoned. But if you keep the control of what is going on and get confirmations that you're taking the right decision before taking it definitely, and that all will be fine, you can actually perform well and do things right and be sure of your success and nobody will see you as a loser and leave... right? Well yes, but no. Cause that's not something that you or anyone's actually able to do: we cannot control what's outside of us and know every little detail of it with absolute certainty... And those "authorities" may be wrong as well when taking decisions for you. You may be scared of being you cause you feel like you lack something (you are "unable to do things well", eg.) and people may end up leaving, while if you try to control everything (eg. plan what to say/do based on how others will respond/what they like and not on who you are and what you think for real) instead you'll know that all it's fine and safe and you're okay and they won't leave, and you'll be accepted and a good person. But again, we cannot control it all: many things are not depending on us in this life and probably.. it's about trying to deal with your guilt (an old wound too, again in regards of how you see yourself and think you are seen: "imperfect/flawed", bad) and letting yourself just be you. We're all imperfect and flawed, occasionally bad; we need to forgive ourselves and just be kind with ourselves cause we're trying our best anyway, especially when we're actually trying: it means we're allowing ourselves to take risks and live our life no matter how it will be, but we'll get to live it fully at least. And to decide for our own self. To see what can happen good, to trust that the unknown doesn't have to be bad, nor us, even if we're not "perfect" (remind yourself that perfection is not an absolute dogma, everyone of us has their own definition of perfection, and society has its own as well that btw keeps on changing whether it's physical or about life goals. Someone not liking you doesn't mean nobody likes you). Take control of your fears, talk with them, acknowledge them and love them. Be there for them and yourself: you can do this.

song: just one day | deproducers

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pile 3 (self neglect/emotional avoidance)

You're generally healing a cycle of self neglect. You either dismissed or deemed your experience as less important or worthy, you probably use/d to compare with others a lot and see them as better than you too. Or more deserving. I think you may have disconnected from yourself in order to follow and help others, or out of a huge traumatic experience (nothing strange here: it's a common self defense mechanism). You probably felt responsible for others cause that's what you learned is your duty here (also to survive/save yourself in some way: eg. you had to grow in an "unsafe" environment, so you tried to keep it as emotionally safe as you could by taking charge of making the mood/solving problems that weren't yours to solve, or something like that; you could have learned to read others' emotions by being hypervigilant of their moves/words so to predict their moods and save yourself), but it's not so.

You're trying or are called to come back to yourself. To get back in touch with your core. To do this, it's important to take time for yourself, and do some self reflection (journaling could be a way too: you don't have to write things chronologically or that are reasonable, just let your thoughts/emotions flow). Reconnect with your body too through healing movements (yoga, walking, exercising... as you wish) or simply taking good care of it by giving it rest and the correct supplements it needs. Realize your worth and that you're deserving of receiving and give to yourself, especially time (you have lot!). It's important that you reconnect with yourself also cause that way you can reconnect with your intuition as well and trust yourself again. You may have stopped trusting signs or downloads or even your own feelings or gut instincts, deeming them (and yourself) as wrong, incorrect, likely to fail. But that's just probably a fear of yours: an insecurity that originates from having judged your mistakes too harshly (maybe after having being criticized the same way a lot, or having been caused to feel guilty for unimportant stuff, even unwillingly -cause of other people's issues: especially if you were surrounded by people self criticizing a lot or self talking negatively, you may have picked up this same habit too. But what if instead of "stupid/ignorant" you're just distracted or tired/stressed and therefore you made a mistake, that is very likely solvable too?). On a side note, self trust doesn't mean you feel sure and okay when taking an action. You may still have doubts or not like what you may need to do. We're still humans, and we can trust ourselves and still be scared of being wrong. But our intuition will always tell us if what we're doing is the right thing to do, no matter how it will turn out (intuition may not always be right especially if we're not grounded and also if->).

Your inner critic/wounded ego may be a bit too strict when it comes to you, pretending perfection in you in particular but also around you. Being ready to always point out every little flaw or incongruence that you may see. It may really shut your intuition as well. All this acts as a self defense mechanism: getting what you wish and having your intuition actually pointing you towards that result could be scary, so you tend to find flaws or imperfections in it to keep yourself away from that and safe in a known situation (even if it's not what you want). But we can only end up ruin intuition when trying to look at it through reason/thoughts. You may need a lot of constant reassurance, cause you may tend to overthink a lot and get any little negative sign as the confirmation things aren't going well (at times you may also be so focused on needing a specific answer that you may shut other possible ones out of you: try to stay grounded and open before asking for confirmations or such, especially from your Guides). You may also tend to project your fears and perceived imperfections on others: as Carl Gustav Jung said, we tend to project and judge others first to defend ourselves from their judgement, but it's actually ourselves that we're judging. Not them.

It's okay to put yourself first: as long as you are not trying to impose yourself on/take advantage of others, you're just putting yourself on their same level. And showing yourself you're deserving of as much. And you do. You don't have to always help others reach their goals by giving up on yours, or letting them having what you want: you're too kind for this world, but this world won't give you a prize for doing this. It will just give you nothing (and this also if you're doing it out of fear of actually getting what you want, not just cause you think others are better than you or you better play it safe to feel included/not be let down). So, fight for what you want. Acknowledge your wishes, emotions, desires... yourself. Show how much you care about yourself and stop comparing with others: there will always be someone better than you but not in everything. They may be better at something, but not at everything (put things into perspective). And even if they were better at everything, according to you, are you sure that your definition of better is the same as the rest of the world's one? Or is it personal of your life/you being harsh on you? And what if you can reach their level too instead of feeling inferior them? Or what if you're already there but just cannot see it?... What if you're just different and nobody is worse or better, actually? What if your different is what's is best for someone else, and for you too? It may feel scary, but try to be more balanced when it comes to see your worth and what you can do, who you are. When it comes to trust yourself. There's so much you can have, and already have, don't close your eyes to it our of fear. At times we need to do the scary thing: take ourselves by the hand and move in unknown waters. And it doesn't have to be as unsafe as it seems. Master your ability and knowledge, learn from your emotions instead of shutting them down out of fear of knowing them and their reasons (you may fear finding some hurtful truth in the process: if so, and if it feels too much, ask for help or guidance to someone you trust or a professional figure): they don't want to hurt you, they want to teach you and help you work on what you need in order to get what you deserve and want. Listen to yourself, come back to you.

For a few: Again, don't let your wounds/fears disconnect you from your intuition or make you misunderstand a need of yours with an intuitive hint. At times we may misinterpret signs/symbols because we really need a specific answer/confirmation emotionally/to feel better (especially in hard times). And having any little confirmation (or what we think it's so) can cause us to focus on something generally comforting/entertaining as a way to distract ourselves from the real problem/issue. Focusing on that problem could be too scary/overwhelming so we try to attach ourselves/fixate on other things/ideas/emotions to avoid dealing with the "real" ones. But we may not realize it. And for as comforting as it may look on the surface, it could really be something not good for us, as it may also lead to delusion (related to that specific thing/idea: be mindful, great things will come for you anyway and that's out of question. It's not an absolute no, but a call to see yourself and heal first). Therefore yes, try to focus and know your emotions first after having neglected yourself (and having been neglected) so much. Take good care of you.

song: under the bridge | all saints

[if you're called by pile 1 as well, feel free to take a look]

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pile 4 (discomfort/changing)

You're probably dealing or learning to deal with discomfort in your life. I think maybe you don't feel like you belong with the environment you are in (it may also be about who you are, not just where), and you may feel isolated. Or probably it's a bunch of different reasons, like a huge tower moment you're going through where it seems everything is against you and you cannot find a way out. It's a sad/lonely period, negative period in general and it may be more or less long. Pretty umcomfortable time in general. You're healing and losing sight of what else is going on. You're called to take a look within, into your heart, and like try to bring it back to life (esepcially if you feel "numb" somehow or lost) to realize it can beat again and you have power against all the darkness and negativity around and inside of you. You can still fight for yourself and win. Darkness is also there, the moment we learn how to watch it, to make the light shine brighter. To help us find happiness and peace too. To enjoy the process of change, and that change can actually be good despite the discomfort. And that healing is a part of our life, not all of it.

As humans, we tend to focus on what goes bad and notice all the other things that go as bad, even the smallest ones, losing sight of the little good that is around (as it kind of lose importance in our negative perspective: who cares if the sun is shining again and flowers are blossoming when there's this *negative thing* in my life?). Probably it's a matter of balancing better your thoughts, without letting them spiral and take you places you're not supposed to go (and won't even get to go: when we spiral, we may just end up creating fake thoughts in our mind out of fears and general negativity. This will keep the cycle alive and not let us get out of it but just kind of even attract more bad stuff into our life -or notice it more easily-. When we're more positive/happier, we shine, attract better things and are able to see also the good side and good events that do always happen in our life, despite everything else). When for example we don't get rid of the stress we may pick up in our daily life (even a slightly stressing situation may create an imbalance in our emotional and mental state if we don't get rid of the excess of energy it creates), when we're used to respond with fear/stress/anxiety to specific triggers even if we know we're safe, when we need for things to not change in order to feel safe, when we're tired, sleepy, cannot give our body the correct supplements it needs and feel depleted... we create the perfect inner environment for ourselves to start being overwhelmed and even spiralling or having panic attacks/burnouts at the smallest next stressing event. And the urgency we get to get out of that negativity asap, may just add more stress and pull us further down.

Do not let all these illusions to govern you, whether you create them in your mind, increasing your emotional instability when you start overtinking (even random unreal stuff that you have no proof may happen: our minds tend to fill up the void/the unknown/future with negative/fearful/fake thoughts so to block us in the same old cycle. They do this to keep us safe but we can show them that maybe they don't have to fear the unknown for they don't know how it will be for real) or you allow them to take space in your mind cause you "forget" to take care of you to give them attention. You are the one in control of your emotions and of your choices/priorities: most of the times anxiety originates from overthinking our insecurities and our "inability" (we feel the one always "wrong", lacking, failing... maybe also cause we don't trust our memory. But once you are grounded and trust yourself, your insecurity won't have much power anymore). You can take breaks and give yourself a time out before things get out of control. You can talk with your heart, with yourself, and your inner child too (probably the one who bears most of the stress and fear for various reasons -this may not be your only pile ig), and you can find space and time to disconnect from the stress you are experiencing. You can distract yourself by focusing on more comfortable things, using any of the various methods you can find online (focusing on naming things around you, on your breathing, on feeling your body and where you are/your senses...). You don't have to confront your fears immediately, and again you don't have to follow them. Or you can stop following them. It's not easy, especially at first, to recognize what is happening, so give yourself time and be patient. It's okay to shut those voices inside, and focus on something else, especially on you and what may be your needs at that time: prepare yourself for a bath or treat yourself something, anything that can relax you and nurture you; it's important to give yourself back, especially when you need breaks after working hard so that you realize you did well and can unwind from the stress of it. Especially, take naps if you can or need: I feel pretty drained suddenly. Try to not sleep deprive yourself (ofc overthinking/stressing can be very draining so it may be that that's also not allowing you to sleep/rest properly). If you're scared of sleeping because you may either lose time or have nightmares, remember you have time (plan it well: even a 5-10 minutes nap can work magic) and work on what these fears mean for you and how they originated: what are the nightmares about, what they want to show you about you? Ask for help if you need, also if you cannot deal with the negativity and all that is happening by yourself. For as long as it's good to distract yourself from triggers when you feel too overwhelmed, it's also good to try and check them more closely once you feel more calm/grounded, to see why they're there and what they want to show you about you, what you may still need to heal. What you may need to do to free yourself from this negative cage and see things from a more positive (or at least neutral) perspective. Yes, if you cannot change your mental pattern, work on finding similar sentences to those your mind is suggesting you that may have a more neutral meaning.

When things change, they change emotionally and energetically first (you can feel it in you, despite it not being so clear but just feeling unsettling), and that's what you may need to work on the most. Changing may feel scary and may bring you lot of negativity or mental/emotional traps or make you fall into a negative pattern about how it may be. It may re-open old wounds, even ones you didn't know existed in you. It may give you fallbacks about triggers/issues you thought you healed already (healing is not linear and these are perfectly fine: plus the closer we get to ending a cycle, the stronger they get). But with patience and time, self compassion and forgiveness, you can work through all of them and see them from another pov. You can use them at your advantage too. You can start seeing the good again. Take time to grieve what you're leaving behind, to give yourself proper closure, and move on. Stay balanced and present, enjoy also whatever else life is offering you at the moment, and do not discard anything out of fear of not being healed yet (being healed also means we do not react unheathily/anxiously to triggers anymore, not necessarily that we do not get triggered anymore; and we don't know what experiences we may need to make in order to "complete" our healing process or check it: trust your balanced self).

song: forward motion | daya

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #pick a card reading #pick a photo #divination #tw triggers #tw trauma #tarot readings #tarots #healing #intuitive readings #psychic readings #clairs readings #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #self help

361 notes · View notes

tiyoin · 6 months

Note

Now I'm thinking about twisted anxiety reader being able to sing really well. I feel like there could be some very interesting/funny moments (4 us not reader).

Reader probably only sings in a reclusive area like a forest around the dorm

I wanna say that the forest already has haunting rumors about it ,and when someone (jade or rook) hears reader singing they think that the "ghost" is up and active again. So students start doing a "test of courage" type thing.

I put Jade or Rook being the one to hear reader cuz they're really the only ones that would really be in that area without a reason.

I also know they're intelligent enough to know it's not a ghost ,but start the rumor anyways cuz they want to know who's singing. And it becomes this big thing the school trying to figure out.

Cut to reader losing her mind cuz she like "wow, I didn't know people thought it was that bad. How am I supposed to live, laugh, love ever again??"

When in reality they were just memorized by reader's singing. And they really want to find out who it is.

Bonus points if they film it and sent it to the group chat you posted about earlier. And reader just has to be like 🧍‍♀️ "whattt???? No way!! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ a random voice in the woods 😱😱"

I'm sorry for sending 2 long asks back 2 back ,but twisted anxiety just gets my head going.

Also if you don't like being sent stuff like this just tell me and I won't send any more. I don't want to over step at all. These are just like head cannons I give to reader ,cuz I just love making things worse for her. Can't let her know what peace is

YOU

hOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY HEAD 🫵

i’m going to give you the fattest smooch alive you don’t understand. AND I LOVE IT WHEN I GET LONG ASKS!!! so please! ask away i don’t mind, i actually get really flattered that people want to share with me their long, detailed thoughts !! i was actually nervous people wouldn’t like my long responses 😖

no cause that’s ALWAYS one troupe i ALWAYS go back to.

i was thinking about making them a singer, REALLY I WAS- but i had second thoughts cause i thought people wouldn’t like it / maybe people would think its too… y-nie or im trying to make twisted anxiety reader too much, ya know

BUT OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU MEAH MWAH (also dw i got your other ask and fully plan on answering it, this one was just at the top of my inbox 🫶🫶)

but oh my god,,,, HEAR ME OUT;

twisted anxiety reader getting pent up because they. have. no. outlet.

none.

maybe they played a sport in their old world, but no longer can’t because seriously?? going up against beastmen, mermen, fae and just,,, men?! absolutely not.

they can’t do anything fun in ramshackle because of the ghosts can and will find a way to stick their noses into your business. also hello??? no privacy at ramshackle👎👎

honestly, twisted anxiety reader doesn’t have any friends so they can’t blow off steam that way either. and going to the gym is out of the question because 1. anxiety 2.gym bros- and working out at home is… different.

so there has to be a way to let off steam… good thing twisted anxiety reader dilly dallied in everything!!

they want to sing but aren’t confident enough to join the pop music club, and the walls to ramshackle are paper thin.

there’s absolutely no where you can go.

and yet… every time you glance at the forest. you can’t help but wonder…🤔

AND IVE ALWAYS IMAGINED READER SINGING

“everything stays” from adventure time

“love all mine” by mitski

“rises the moon” by liana flores

“sky fall” by adele

“memory” from cats

“listen” by beyoncé

“hopelessly devoted” by olivia newton-john

oh my god i have to make a separate post for this before i completely rot and accidentally write a whole chapter because i’ve been WAITING to write about this and i’d feel bad about making this SUPER LONG

but i can’t imagine rook going for a sunset “hike” (…sure, let’s go with that) and hearing you. belting your little heart to “hopelessly devoted” HAGFJAIWOFOSOWOFOAPEIFOZOQFOXOD

ROOK IS AWE STRUCK

such passion! such devotion! how marvelously beautiful! rook is stunned.

of course after you finish singing he can hear you moan and groan about trivial things but- rook hunt was not a hunt if he didn’t appreciate the gift the forest provided.

and yet, the carful hunter made a careless mistake. cursing silently, he glared at the twig his boots stepped on before he snapped his head up to the clearing up ahead.

ah, you fled.

to say rook was… upset was an understatement. yes he was able to marvel in your voice, but he lost the privilege to listen to more, to observe from afar.

the strange songs you sang and possibly wrote (what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him) are gone with the wind and the high step of your foot as you vanished into thin air.

rook could easily hunt you down, but he stopped himself after a slight muscle twitch. non non! he was the enjoyer of beauty! not the hunter! yes he hunted beauty but it would go against his very being to trap it instead of let it fly free and continue its song.

so let this be your little secret, okay.

jade would def walk into you singing ‘everything stays’

OR OR ROOK N JADE BOTH TAG TEAMING READER IN THE CHAT SAYING HOW THEY WISH TO MEET THIS BEAUTIFUL VOICED GOREST ‘NYMPH’ SO THEY CAN HEAR MORE OF THEIR SONGS

readers just like;

😟

“time to find a new location☝️”

*there’s no where those two won’t be able to find you fyi*

TWISTED ANXIETY READER WILL NEVER KNOW PEACE‼️‼️ NOT AS LONG AS IM HERE‼️‼️

please send more headcanons i love reading them 🙇🏻🙇🏻

babes this is me n u rn:

#MWAH MEAH MWAH ALL THE HUGS AND KISSES FOR YOU FOR SHARING THE SAME BRAIN CELLS AS ME HENCE ALLOWING ME TO WRITE ABOUT IT MWAH MWAH #guys… if i added this to twisted anxiety….#guys if this became canon…#hopefully y’all won’t get mad cause i wanna 🤞😋#twisted anxiety 🌀#tiyoin’s cuties 。　 ඞ 。

151 notes · View notes

ayylovley · 7 months

Note

Could you do some windbreaker characters with a fem s/o that likes to wear lolita dresses :) you can choose the windbreaker characters I can’t decide they are all so hot ^ - ^

Yess hope you enjoy ✨

𝔚𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔵 𝔏𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔞 𝔣𝔢𝔪 𝔰/𝔬

✧.* JayJo

Once he saw you for the first time he’s bug-eyed and curious. Normally your style isn’t common so you stand out a lot. Some people around you compliment you and ask where you got your outfits. Others are annoying and mean and want to make fun of you and sometimes it’s very subtle. But Jay is very observant and can see the talking shit behind your back, and he’s not going to have any of it. Even if he doesn’t know you that well your style grabbed his attention, so little by little he’ll start talking to you. Being one of the people that compliment you but something was different with him, his smile was warmer and his body language exposed slight interest. Whatever you wear is his excuse to talk to you, for example if you’re holding an umbrella on a nice day he wants to talk about your outfit and then ends up asking more questions.

Conversations become about what type of music you guys like, what artists, recommendations, anything you recommend he will listen to it once he’s at home while he’s studying. But he can barely concentrate because you’re on his mind constantly. The music turns into eventually exchanging phone numbers to talk more, Jay is trying to stay friends for very long though because a month later he asked you out. Now that you guys are dating anything you wear he loves, even looking up the Lolita style online to search for dresses and accessories and send you pictures of them ‘Do you like this?’ ‘This reminds me of you.’ ‘I think you’d look good in this one’

He’s more protective of you because ain’t no way he’s gonna let anyone make fun of you now. Warnings and threats can turn into physical fights because people are so petty. He teaches them a lesson though, and he’s extra romantic with you afterwards. He admires your confidence and how you embrace yourself he doesn’t want that to end. A confidence booster, for sure. He’s your biggest fan, probably wants to take pictures of you a lot. Even if he doesn’t show it, trust me he’s obsessed with you and wants to be around you every second of every day

(That was long idk what happened just brain meats poured scenarios out of my head)

✧.* Vinny Hong

(This got a bit angsty)

Ok Vinny isn’t going to be as… responsive to how he likes your style, but he still thinks it’s really cool. If you’re dating him since he’s poor he’ll feel guilt for not being able to afford to buy you more outfits but at least he can afford flowers that match the color of what you’re wearing that day on a date. Whatever he can’t afford, he comes up with a plan to give whatever he has. He acts cold but he genuinely cares about you and wouldn’t want to lose you for the world. If you’re still dating him when he’s rich that’s when he’ll spoil you. He doesn’t expect anything back he just wants you to be happy.

You won’t be able to see Vinny as much due to crew business, but once he makes time for you he doesn’t want to leave you. These times are actually the hardest because if he’s going through it he will want to hold you. No need for words when you finally see each other he just wants to be in your arms again. And once he has to leave again he is even worse than before, your smiles just give him peace and comfort again and he needs that more than ever.

✧.* Dom Kang

Dom is simping… you’re a goddess to him that whenever he sees you he gets flustered and embarrasses himself a little. He’s not shy about showing how much he loves you, random kisses, hugs from behind, lots of compliments. He likes to brag and show you off (didn’t mean to reference the Doja Cat song lmao) But seriously he does… Especially when you’re rooting for him during the tournaments and he wins. He’s proud of himself and especially when you shower him with praises and hugs. Watch him melt and turn into a puddle.

✧.* Shelly Scott

One of the most romantic characters and your biggest supporter. If you don’t pull the strings she does and a lot of the times being the flirty one. You got her attention with your stand outish style like Jay. She genuinely wanted to be your friend at first, but she fell first and she fell hard. You fell hard too from how her charismatic personality and caring so much was pulling you in. It’ll take a little longer to confess to each other because you both assume you might not be into girls. But with little hints from Shelly, it started with subtle flirting comments like “If you were my girlfriend I’d spoil you.”

Finally she got the courage for just one date and see how it goes. Pretty much by the second date you’re official. She’s a bit clingy but that’s just her way of showing that she loves you. When she was training hard twitch her dad to help Humming Bird unfortunately she couldn’t reach out to you much but would send occasional texts like ‘😚’ or the cutesy love gifs

✧.* Wooin Yoo

Wooin might fun of you… Especially when he met you, but in his head he thinks he looks good and he can think it’s pretty hot that you don’t care what people think. And just like Dom, I feel like he enjoys when you watch him during his races. But compared to Dom, Wooin is kissing his own ass, “did you see how awesome I am, babe?” So you’d probably be mostly quiet until he’s done talking about himself or notices that you’re not saying anything to hype him up and comments on it

If someone made fun of you that’s when his limit comes because only he can make fun of you. He doesn’t care who it is even if his crew were to make fun of you. Though that wouldn’t really happen because 1. They know Wooin would be pissed 2. They actually don’t care how you dress. Surprisingly when you spend more time with The Sabbath Crew they aren’t as mean as you thought. Well, compared to your own boyfriend. But really when it comes to Wooin he is on high alert when you’re out with him making sure no one is looking at you the wrong way

✧.* Joker

Joker is the quiet type. But he’ll make up with it with physical touch and kisses. Just like Wooin he can’t stand it when people talk shit. Except Wooin doesn’t get into fights unless he’s provoked to, Joker on the other hand is violent. So he isn’t giving any warnings he’s giving a punch to a face. If you tell him that you don’t like when he gets into fights he will just not do it in front of you

On the cutesy side of things you met his brother and he thought you were cool. And his new puppy might finally have a babysitter while he’s in tournaments if you’re ok with it. If not he can just take the puppy with him like usual. Now he has someone to gush over animals with.

#sorry dom’s was so short I was struggling to think of anything besides he’s just a sweetheart #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker

165 notes · View notes

kai-uh-arcadian · 6 days

Text

Inter(n)twining

synopsis: you’re an intern at JYP Corp, you get suddenly moved to a different floor and meet the woman of your dreams

cw: basically pure fluff, jealous Tzuyu, minor cursing, alcohol, grimey He*chul, please let me know anything else, also Tzuyu is like rich but it doesn't relate to the plot

word count: 4k

notes! hi! I hope you enjoy this!! It was sooo fun to write. I thought about this on my way to my own internship hahaha. Has anyone watched Queen of Tears? I referenced that one (<-watch it if you haven't!) scene in this that I thought was soooooo cute ahh~ anyways! Let me know how you feel about this or if you’d just like to chat. Love youuuu (:

You’d been interning at JYP Corp for about a month and a half now, and so far, things were pretty good. The people you met were okay, and while the work was definitely stressful, the fast-paced environment made the days fly by.

All in all, it wasn’t bad.

Well, almost.

Your floor boss, Heechul, was the one exception. He was in his early 40s, arrogant, and rude—those were the kindest words you could think of to describe him. You despised him secretly, but you were careful never to show it.

It was 9:20 a.m., and you had been at your desk since 7:30, typing up a last-minute report Heechul had dumped on you the moment you stepped through the office door. A report he honestly should have done yesterday.

“Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The way his smug grin appeared as your face faltered for a split second was permanently burned into your memory.

You mimicked his tone quietly to yourself while you made a face, “Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The bitter satisfaction of hitting ‘send’ on the email 40 minutes ahead of schedule almost made up for the annoyance.

“Hey, uh…”

Your heart dropped when you saw Heechul’s head suddenly poke over your cubicle wall.

Did he have super-hearing or something?!

You froze, horrified at the thought that he might’ve overheard your mocking.

“I’m so—” you began, your words stumbling out, but he cut you off without even glancing in your direction.

“Intern #5…” he drawled lazily, “someone on the 3rd floor got pulled into another project. They need someone to fill in for a 12 week case.” He flashed an indifferent smile as you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Oh, okay. When do I start?” Not even questioning what you’d be doing for the next TWELVE weeks

“Hmm.. like now. Just grab whatever you need and head down there. Thanks!” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you blinking in disbelief.

What the hell. No details, no briefing? Just like that?

Grumbling under your breath, you grabbed your briefcase and stuffed your sparse desk items in it before making your way out the door and into the elevator. It wasn’t until you were inside that it hit you.

He didn’t even know your name. After over a month of interning, you were still just ‘Intern #5.’

“Ahh~ Seriously, fuck that guy…” you muttered to yourself as the elevator dinged, straightening your posture instinctively.

The third floor felt like a completely different world. The cubicles were laid out in a way that was the total opposite of what you were used to, leaving you standing there awkwardly, much like a worried puppy with the way your eyebrows furrowed.

After a few moments a soft voice broke through your thoughts. You turned your head to see a woman peeking out from her cubicle, you only needed to see half her face to realize she was stunning.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah… I was sent here to help out on the 12 week case,” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck. “But the layout is completely different from the 4th floor, so I’m a bit lost.”

She smiled warmly and stood up from her desk. “Oh! It must be the case I’m working on, my boss mentioned something earlier about another intern joining me so I think she is expecting you! Her office is down that hall, last door on the left.” Using her long arms to point you in said direction.

“Thanks a lot!” You started to walk away but paused, realizing you hadn’t asked for her name.

“Tzuyu,” she said with a smile, extending her hand.

“Y/n… Or, as my boss calls me, Intern #5.” You sighed with a small laugh, shaking her hand.

Tzuyu giggled softly. “I’m also an intern and I’ve heard stories about how he treats us. I think I can safely say Jihyo-nim is much nicer” assuaging your worries

As you exchanged smiles with Tzuyu, her warmth immediately calmed your nerves. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing you'd be working with someone friendly for once.

"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll try not to embarrass myself in front of her," you said with a small grin.

Tzuyu chuckled softly. "You'll be fine. She's really understanding—definitely not the type to make you feel like Intern #5," she reassured you, her voice playful.

With one last nod, you turned and made your way to Jihyo’s office, the nerves slowly creeping back in. You took a deep breath, knocked twice, and heard a clear voice from inside.

I really can’t deal with another Heechul situation

"Come in."

Opening the door, you found Jihyo seated at her desk, her space neat and organized but stacked with files. She looked up from her work and smiled brightly. "Y/n, thanks for stepping in on such short notice."

"No problem at all," you said, relieved she actually used your name.

Jihyo stood up and grabbed a folder from her desk. Jihyo motioned for you to sit. "The project we’re working on is a client case that’s been a bit tricky, but with the extra hands, we should be able to get things done faster.” She handed you the file to briefly read it over, “I’m assigning you to work on it with another intern, and I’ll walk you over to your station. You’ll be seated next to your partner."

You nodded, feeling your nerves settle. "Sounds great!"

Jihyo led you out of her office, down the hall, and toward a cluster of cubicles. As you approached, your heart skipped a beat when you realized she was guiding you right to the cubicle next to Tzuyu’s.

“Tzuyu, this is Y/n," Jihyo said with a smile as she motioned toward you. "You’ll both be working together on this case."

Tzuyu smiled warmly as she stood up. "Oh, we've already met!"

Jihyo blinked in surprise for a moment before chuckling softly. "Well, that’s perfect. That makes things easier." She gestured toward the empty cubicle next to Tzuyu’s. "Y/n, this is where you'll be sitting. Tzuyu’s already familiar with the case, so she’ll help you get caught up, and you two can take it from there. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" She made a slight notice how the tips of your ears were beginning to turn red before turning away.

"Thank you," you said, bowing before stepping into your new space and setting down your things.

As Jihyo left, you turned toward Tzuyu, a grin tugging at your lips. "Looks like we’re officially teammates."

Tzuyu nodded, her expression playful. "I guess that means I’ll be seeing a lot more of you."

"It seems so," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though the idea of working closely with her made your heart flutter just a bit.

Tzuyu sat back down and gestured toward a stack of neatly organized documents. "Okay, let’s get started. I’ll walk you through what we were working on so far, and we can go from there."

You nodded, scooting your chair closer to her, your shoulder just barely brushing against hers as you both leaned in toward the table. The soft sound of paper flipping echoed against the steady lull of the room as Tzuyu began to explain the case, her voice was so calming. Her perfume—a subtle, sweet scent—seemed to linger in the air between you, and though you were trying to focus on her words, it was hard not to get a little distracted.

As she spoke, you couldn’t help but admire how composed and thoughtful she was, her long fingers moving gracefully over the pages. You found yourself glancing at her more often than the documents in front of you, drawn in by her presence. There was something undeniably captivating about the way she carried herself—poised, elegant, but still approachable.

“Do you understand it a bit more now? If not I can go over it again,” Tzuyu’s voice broke through your thoughts, and when you looked up, her eyes were already on you, curious. There was no judgment, just a soft smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it off with a grin. “Oh~! No, that’s okay,” you assuaged. “I’m just trying to process all of it”

She gave a small, knowing smile and turned her attention back to the documents. “Well, you're doing great, I know I just said a lot of words” she giggled, her tone soft but warm.

Over the last eight weeks, you and Tzuyu had gotten to know each other better. Your work together became a steady rhythm—casual conversations, shared laughs, and, to your delight, a shared love for music. It made the long car rides during company trips feel less like work and more like a comfortable escape.

One afternoon, while heading back to the office after a client visit, you caught Tzuyu quietly nodding along to a song from your playlist.

"You like Twice?" you asked, glancing over with mild surprise.

Tzuyu smiled, still looking out the window. "Yeah, I didn’t expect anyone here to listen to them."

"Same here," you chuckled. "You ever seen them live?"

Tzuyu turned her head, her smile growing. "Once, back in college. It was unforgettable."

"I’ve been meaning to for years but never got around to it," you replied. "Maybe next time they’re touring here."

"Maybe we can go together," she said, her voice was so forward yet soft, and the thought of seeing a concert with her lingered in the back of your mind long after the conversation ended.

That evening, after another long day, you found yourself staying late to finish some reports. Tzuyu had already called it a night, stopping by her neighboring cubicle as she prepared to leave.

"Hey, don’t stay too late," she said, offering a tired but warm smile.

"I won’t be long," you replied, stretching your shoulders. "I’ll see you tomorrow!"

"Good night, Y/n" she said, and with a soft wave, she headed out.

It was nearly an hour later when you finally finished up, the office almost eerily silent. You grabbed your things and headed out, only to find Tzuyu standing by the entrance under the building’s foyer, her arms crossed as she looked out at the rain pouring down.

You frowned, assuming she was waiting for the storm to calm down. "Seriously?" you muttered to yourself, amused that someone so seemingly put-together would forget an umbrella on a night like this. With a sigh, you walked over to her.

"Tzuyu, did you forget your umbrella?" you assumed lightly, a teasing smile on your face as you stood beside her.

Tzuyu turned toward you, blinking in surprise. "Oh, no, I'm just waiting for—"

"For the rain to stop?" You asked as you frantically put your stuff down on the concrete while taking off your blazer.

"You'll get sick if you try to walk home like this," you interrupted, pulling out your own red umbrella of your bag and pressing it into her hands while also throwing your blazer around her.

Tzuyu opened her mouth to respond, but you didn’t give her a chance.

"Here, take mine."

Tzuyu blinked, a bit taken aback. "But what about you?"

"I’ll be fine," you said with a reassuring smile. "The bus stop is just around the corner, and so I’ll be good. Besides, this umbrella’s way too nice to just be used in a short walk!"

Tzuyu hesitated, looking between you, the umbrella, and the pre-warmed jacket around her. She opened her mouth again, probably to explain, but you waved her off, already heading toward the street. "Seriously, don’t worry about it! It looks better on you anyway!"

Before she could protest, you were jogging away, flashing her a quick cheeky smile over your shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Tzu~!"

She stood there, the unopened red umbrella still in her hand and blazer around her as she watched you dart off toward the bus stop, your silhouette slowly disappearing in the fog of the heavy rain. Tzuyu glanced down at the umbrella, confusion flickering in her eyes.

“I .. have a driver..”

Just as she stood there, still processing what had happened, her driver finally pulled up, headlights cutting through the downpour.

"Miss Chou, I apologize for the delay—the rain's been causing awful traffic," the driver said, stepping out to open the door for her.

Tzuyu looked down at the umbrella again, momentarily lost in thought. "It’s okay, don't worry about it" she murmured, climbing into the car, the umbrella still firmly in her grip.

As the car drove off, Tzuyu’s thoughts drifted back to you—how you’d rushed off into the rain without a jacket nor without a second thought, stupidly smiling despite the storm, leaving her with your umbrella. She looked out the window as the bus drove off in the distance, watching your soaked form disappear from view, wondering about you, and why you so easily gave her the clothes off your back.

The next morning, when you arrived at the office, you saw Tzuyu already at her desk, the red umbrella propped up against your chair.

“Good morning Tzu!” You cheerfully greeted her while making your way to your respective space.

She glanced up as you approached, her usual calm expression shifting to something more thoughtful.

"You know, you didn’t have to do all that last night," she said softly, as if she’d been thinking about it all morning. (she was)

You shrugged, giving her an easy smile. "I couldn’t let you walk in the rain like that. It’s just an umbrella and I bought that jacket from Amazon, no big deal! I’m glad you got home safe."

Tzuyu held your gaze for a moment, her eyes lingering on yours before she looked down. "Still… I appreciate it. I’ll give it back when it’s dry-cleaned"

Dry-cleaned?

"No it’s okay! Don’t worry about it," you replied, brushing off her concern with a wave of your hand. "It’s really okay!"

But as you settled into your seat, something about the exchange left an unspoken feeling between you both, small but undeniably there. You couldn’t quite shake it—the way her gaze lingered, it seemed like a quiet weight resting beside her.

And maybe, just maybe, that gesture meant more than either of you were ready to admit

Twelve weeks had passed, and you and Tzuyu had finally closed the case(successfully!) you’d been working on it for so long. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and both the third and fourth floors were buzzing with excitement. As the end-of-year office tradition dictated, Jihyo—and unfortunately, Heechul—organized a work dinner and drinks to celebrate the years successes.

Dinner started smoothly. Everyone was relaxed, conversations filled with lighthearted laughter and stories of the past few months. Tzuyu sat beside you, nursing her drink, her small, contented smile only adding to the warmth of the night.

But then, the drinks started flowing.

As the evening wore on, you noticed Heechul’s eyes repeatedly drifting toward Tzuyu. From the moment he saw her, it was clear what his intentions were. His predatory gaze, the same one you’d witnessed with other interns, made your blood simmer. He was so zeroing in.

Tzuyu, who was carefully sipping her beer, had stiffened as Heechul sauntered over with a smug grin, the two small glasses in his hand wobbling slightly from how much he’d already consumed.

“Hey, Tzuyu, right?” Heechul drawled, leaning on the table beside her. “Let’s do a love-shot. It’s for team bondinggg~” He flashed her a grin, his voice dripping with sleaze.

Tzuyu froze, glancing away uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, I don’t really drink..” she murmured, clearly looking for a way out.

“Oh, come onnn~!” Heechul leaned in closer, his body practically pinning her against the wall which happened to be your back. “Don’t be shy. It’s just one drink~!”

That was enough.

Without missing a beat, you stood from your seat, a little unsteady from your own drinks but filled with purpose.

“Boss-nim, how about… you come here!” You feigned excitement while the whole tables’ eyes were on you two

In a few steps you guided him and you closed the distance, slipping Heechul away from Tzuyu smoothly, effortlessly blocking her from his sight with your body while wrapping your forearm around his.

“How about this, Boss-nim?” you said with a playful grin, your voice steady despite the alcohol in your system. “Why don’t we take that love-shot together!?”

You leaned in closer, one arm propped against the wall beside his head, the other smoothly taking one of the glasses from his hand.

Heechul blinked, visibly surprised but clearly intrigued by your boldness. His smirk widened. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d be so forward, Intern #5.”

God did you hate this man.

You internally rolled your eyes as you tilted your head, giving him a fake smile. “Why not? I’m a big team player, right? ” You clinked his glass, maintaining your position between him and Tzuyu.

Heechul's initial shock melted into something more. His grin grew cockier, but now with a hint of appreciation. He raised his glass, eyeing you with newfound interest. “Well, you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

You turned out to the table of people watching, letting the tension simmer. “To teamwork! ” You said, your voice is just loud enough for your table to hear.

Heechul clinked his glass against yours, his gaze still locked onto you. “To teamwork,” he echoed.

You both threw back the shots, and while the burn of the alcohol hit your throat, you couldn’t help but hide a face of disgust at the sight of Heechul staring at you with a mix of admiration and something else entirely.

As you set your glass down, you noticed some of the female coworkers nearby watching you both, whispering among themselves.

“Wow, did you see that?” one of them murmured, clearly impressed. “She totally flipped the situation and helped that one girl”

“Right? That was so smooth. She’s got some serious charm.”

“I think Heechul-nim’s into her now.”

“Hell— I’m even into her now! What’s her name?”

Their whispers weren’t exactly quiet, and the compliments floated through the air, filling the space around you. You caught snippets of their words, and even in your slightly tipsy state, you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks due to flattery.

But then, you glanced at Tzuyu. Her usually soft expression was tight, her eyes focused on the table, hands gripping her drink a little too tightly. She wasn’t saying anything, but there was something in her silence—something that felt like quiet jealousy.

Before you could process it, Heechul broke the moment by leaning in toward you with a grin. “I’ve got to say, Intern #5, you’re full of surprises.”

You chuckled, but there was no mistaking the sharp edge in your voice. “Gotta keep you on your toes, right boss-nim? Can’t let you make just anyone uncomfortable!” You said while slipping back into your seat

His laughter boomed through the room, seemingly laughing off that sly jab, the other colleagues joined in, you felt Tzuyu’s presence beside you, still silent, still reserved. You turned toward her, catching her gaze for just a brief moment, her eyes meeting yours before she quickly looked away, her expression unreadable.

Leaning down slightly, you whispered to her, “Hey, you okay?”

Tzuyu nodded, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, just... tired. Maybe I’ll head home soon.”

“Oh! Please, I can walk you home,” you suggested, voice slightly slurred from the alcohol but laced with genuine concern.

Tzuyu glanced at you for a brief moment, her face unreadable. “Alright,” she finally said, her voice soft but clipped as she grabbed her things.

You both bowed respectfully to thank everyone for the dinner before slipping out the door, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside.

The silence stretched between you as you followed behind her. Her long strides made it hard to keep up, and you couldn’t help but feel that she was walking with a certain purpose—like she was intentionally trying to get ahead of you while you were left following her like a loyal dog.

“Tzuyu-ya, what’s wrong?” you called after her, your voice slightly breathless as you struggled to close the distance. She kept walking, her pace unfaltering, and for a moment, you wondered if she was genuinely trying to avoid you.

“Tzuyu-ya,” you called again, a little louder this time as she reached the edge of the bridge near her apartment. In a moment of panic, you gently grabbed her arm to stop her.

She froze.

“I’m so sorry… did I make you uncomfortable? Did you want Hee—” you started to ask, words tumbling out in your haste to apologize. Your heart sank at the mere thought that maybe you had overstepped, that maybe she had wanted to—

“Yes! You made me uncomfortable!” Tzuyu interrupted, spinning around to face you, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes shone with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t anger.

You blinked, shocked. “I’m sorry... I thought you were trying to get away from—” Trying to explain

“You were being too cute!” Tzuyu blurted out, cutting you off again, her face flushed even darker as she averted her gaze, clearly flustered.

Your eyes widened at her sudden admission. "W-What?"

“You were being charming... in front of other women!” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouting child. “Why would you do that? Are you trying to attract them? It was too charming!”

It all hit you at once. Her awkward silence, her reservedness during dinner—it wasn’t because of Heechul, it was because of you. Even through the fog of alcohol, you suddenly understood.

You took a step closer to her, your heart racing. “Tzuyu, I—” you began, but her vulnerability was so palpable in that moment, it stopped you in your tracks.

Without thinking, you reached up, cupping the right side of her face with your hand. Her skin was warm beneath your palm, and her breath hitched as your thumb gently caressed her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice low but steady. “I won’t do that again. I promise... my charm will only be saved for you, my Tzuyu.” You gave her a sweet smile

Tzuyu’s eyes flickered with something raw and unguarded as she looked up at you, absentmindedly nuzzling into your hand, her vulnerability so clear in the way she held your gaze. “It better be,” she murmured, though her words carried no real bite.

In that moment, the air between you felt thick with something unspoken, an invisible thread pulling you closer to her. Your heart pounded as you realized what you had/wanted to do.

Or maybe it was the alcohol in your veins? Or maybe the sheer need to kiss her right in that moment.

Tzuyu’s eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, but she didn’t pull away. She held your gaze, her breath shallow, her lips parted just slightly as if waiting for something—for you to make the first move.

And so, you did.

Without another word, you gently tilted her chin up with your thumb, leaning in slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop you if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the warmth of her skin beneath your hand only urged you closer.

Your lips met hers in a soft, tentative kiss—almost like a question. She responded with a slight, shy press of her lips against yours, her breath catching as the kiss deepened. You could feel the soft tremble of her shoulders beneath your hands, as if she was just as unsure and just as eager.

For a brief moment, the world outside disappeared—The bridge, the distant city sounds—all of it melted away.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against hers, both of you catching your breath. You felt her fingers brush against your hand, hesitant but full of meaning, as if she was silently asking, What now?

You smiled softly, your thumb tracing her cheek one last time before you whispered, “I meant it. It’s just you, my Tzuyu.”

Her lips curled into a small, bashful smile as she whispered back, “Just me.”

Maybe come Monday you’ll ask Jihyo for a permanent position on the third floor.

#tzuyu x reader #twice x reader #chou tzuyu #twice tzuyu #chou tzuyu x reader #tzuyu #tzuyu imagines #twice #twice x y/n

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