#Online Laptop Shopping Sites

[000marie198]

I feel so stupid

[sohnric]

extra cheesy — e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: pizza boy! eric, very mild childhood friends to acquaintances to friends to lovers au. college au, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst. mutual pining, slowburn, jealous eric, oblivous reader, the whole lot... includes pizza boy! sunwoo and eric's older sister! lisa manoban.

wc: 31k (31.071)

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mention of throwing up, mentions of jealousy, the reader and eric are the same height bc i wrote this for and about myself, talks about the ex-gifted kid burnout syndrome lol.

listen to: so american - olivia rodrigo, love - wave to earth and stuck with u - ariana grande and justin bieber

being a wingman is not always the easiest task - especially not when your roommate's target is best friends with someone taking your attention away from the main goal.

a/n: thank u so much best friend @csenke for beta reading as always and thank u best friend @from-izzy for hyping me up and listening to me ramble hours upon hours about this fic (oh and also for stepping in as the reader's roommate HAHA).

“Come on, we deserve a little pizza for dinner!” your roommate, Izzy, shakes your arm as she clings to you on the sofa the way she always does when she wants you to do something. And although your dear flatmate isn’t usually the one to order in, much preferring to cook meals at home and save the leftovers for another day, you wouldn’t find her desperation for pizza as strange, if it wasn’t for the batting of her eyelashes and her pleading voice.

Surely, she doesn’t need the pizza that much, right?

“I’m not saying we don’t, I’m just saying I have leftover soup from yesterday that I have to eat tonight or else it’s gonna go bad,” you justify your protests, “but you can get one, if you want. I’m not stopping you,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows at the girl in confusion before reaching for the TV remote.

“Oh come oooon, Y/N,” she pressures, pouting at you in disappointment. More weight is put into your body as she clings to you, acting like a child throwing a tantrum. “You deserve to have delicious pizza for dinner today, because you finally bagged that internship! Isn’t that a reason to celebrate?”

“We can just pop the champagne, if you wanna celebrate–”

“Y/N, can we please just get the pizza tonight?” she turns serious for once, the smile disappearing off her face, replaced by a much more stoic expression. And see, that’s a little scary– desperation can make people do bad, bad things. You’d be a fool to turn down your flatmate’s request– you’d have to sleep with one eye open tonight…

“Okay, fine,” you grunt, shaking your head at her ridiculous antics, “from the usual place?” 

“NO!” the girl chimes, making you jump in your place on the sofa with the loudness of her voice. If she wants to scream, she should move further away from your ear, goddamn it. After sending her a look full of anger, she offers you an apologetic one before she reaches for her laptop resting on the coffee table in front of you, opening it and pressing in a new Google search. “There’s this place I found with Yizhuo after class one day,” she says, scrolling through the browser and finding the site of the place she wants to order from today, “and they make pretty good pizza. So just choose one and then I’ll put it through the online order.”

“They have online orders?” you hum, interested. “Twenty-first century, this is. Online shopping for pizza…” you snicker, shaking your head in disbelief. Maybe you’re getting old– and it’s not like you don’t enjoy the comfort this gives you, not at all, you just find it a little strange to order food over the internet. What happened to phone calls?

“Yes, grandma,” Izzy sighs, “that’s like, a normal thing, I fear.”

Rolling your eyes at her irony, you scan the menu before deciding on your usual– margherita, extra cheesy. After pointing your finger at the pizza of your choice, your roommate takes it upon herself to add the meal to her cart (while also adding one she likes as well) before she proceeds further with the order. Your eyes stay glued to her, interested in the way this whole thing works– because let’s be real, ordering a pizza without having social interaction is every introvert’s dream– and watch as she hesitantly clicks onto the “add a note to your order” section of the website.

Confusion fills your veins as you stare your roommate down. What more could she possibly need for this order? Does she not just want to eat? Does she need her pizza sliced in a special way, or does she want the pepperoni in the shape of a flower, or something? You really wouldn’t be surprised, with how peculiar Izzy could get sometimes, but still– wasn’t she the one mourning about how hungry she was just a few minutes ago? Surely, she would want her food to get here the fastest it can, with no additional requests that would take up too much time.

“Don’t say anything,” she mumbles as she starts typing, and finally, it all starts to make sense.

The desperation in her voice. The determination. The need to have a pizza tonight, right now. Because after reading out the words she’s written down, you realize that it was never about the pizza itself in the first place. Knowing Izzy, you should’ve known– after the months of sharing an apartment with her, you should’ve been able to predict her antics.

There, proud, black on white, shine five words saying: Send your cutest delivery boy :)

“Izzy what the fuck–”

“I told you not to say anything!” she cuts you off, clicking through the rest of the order hurriedly, as if worried you were going to make her delete her embarrassing request.

“Okay, miss, ‘I don’t chase no man!’, I see that you’re living up to your motto. What? You ate there with Yizhuo last week and saw a cute guy doing deliveries, so you thought you’d drag him to our house instead of asking for his number like a normal person?” you grunt, shaking your head at the lengths your roommate is willing to go to– while also making her own life twice as complicated as it needs to be.

“Well, pretty much, yeah,” she peeps as she closes the laptop after paying for your pizzas– you’re not paying her back, just for the record. Not after she just publicly embarrassed you by making that stupid request with your address attached. 

“Are you crazy?” you scoff. “Why didn’t you just talk to him back there?”

“He was busy!” she mourns. “Look, this is me shooting my shot. You’re getting a pizza out of it, so I don’t see the problem here.”

“The problem is you doing all of this when you could’ve literally just walked up to him last week and introduced yourself,” you say, watching your roommate physically crumble under your scolding, but truthful words.

Izzy slides down further into the sofa, as if to shield herself from the attack. She puts her hands over her face, hiding the blush on her cheeks as she mourns into the silent apartment. “Look, I was shy, okay?” she says.

“But not shy enough to be so bold over the internet, huh?” you mock her, feeling your roommate’s hand slap your upper arm in frustration.

“You should’ve seen him, Y/N! There was no way I was going to walk up to him after the whole day I spent at uni. I looked like a dead rat, that’s not how you pull men,” she mutters. “And he looked so perfect, so adorable, it’s… I keep thinking about him and his plump lips and his dark messy hair, and he was so tall and–”

“Okay, okay,” you cut her off, a hint of annoyance tinting your tone. “I’ll see him with my own two eyes in a bit anyway,” you comment, “if he’s really the cutest out of them, as you requested,” you snicker. 

“He is! I swear. There is no way he isn’t going to appear on our doorstep in a few minutes, trust me.”

Little did the two of you know that you caused havoc on the other side of the town. It was a slow day in Sohn’s Pizza, leaving the two part-timers on duty scrolling through their phones, awaiting any new customers. It was the middle of the week, 2 hours before their closing, and so the sound of the new online order coming in surprised the two boys, having the owner’s son sit up from his place in the corner of the room and click through the system.

“Dad, it says one extra cheesy margherita and one pepperoni!” Eric yells out into the kitchen, followed by a loud acknowledging hum from the cook himself. Sunwoo looks up from under his chocolate bangs, pausing the game he’s been playing on his phone, licking his lips.

“Do you wanna go?” he asks, obviously too lazy to move from the pizzeria. See, the two part-timers had many responsibilities. One wasn’t just a delivery man or just the server. Because Eric’s father didn’t really trust anyone with his business, he relied only on the people closest to him– which caused this place to operate mostly as a family business. Sunwoo only got the job because he was Eric’s longest friend, and that made the Sohn family consider him as one of them. 

That meant the pizzeria was almost always short on staff, though– which was a problem Eric complained to his dad about more often than not, being too busy with deliveries and also wiping down the tables, serving the customers and helping with the sides. The poor boy already learned that his dad won’t do anything about it from the sheer discomfort of having to go through the hiring process with anyone, though, and so after a while, he just stopped trying.

“I dunno,” he shrugs, eyes scanning the order. “It has a note, though.”

“What does it say?” Sunwoo asks, voice barely coated in any interest. Eric would argue that the boy doesn’t really care, but is just asking to seem mentally present.

“Send your cutest delivery boy, smiley face,” Eric hums, snickering to himself. Now, that’s a request he hasn’t gotten before– and the pizzeria has been open for quite some time now.

“Oh, so I’m going,” Sunwoo says, already standing up from his place in the camping chair behind the counter even though the order isn’t ready yet, full confidence flowing through the man’s veins.

“Didn’t you just ask me if I’m going?” Eric jokes, eyes darting towards his coworker.

“Yeah, but that was before I saw the note,” Sunwoo scoffs, “we obviously don’t want our customers to be unhappy, so I’m going to do my job, and as the cutest one, go deliver these pizzas.”

“Where did the confidence come from?” Eric clicks his tongue. “Well, that being said, I am going to deliver these.”

“So you think you’re cuter than me?” Sunwoo looks at his friend with a stern face, and to be honest, it’s kind of funny how serious the matter is for the boys. They would both blame the 8 hour shift getting to their brains, but in reality, it’s clear as day that they both want to win this argument. 

“I’d say so,” Eric nods. “Didn’t you say you were more sexy than cute the other day?” 

Sunwoo looks at his friend suspiciously. He doesn’t really remember the full context of the conversation, but he does remember stating the fact– and although he’d argue it’s true, he also doesn’t want to lose to Eric. Because look– the job is taking up the majority of the boys’ time, so looking for a girlfriend has gotten severely more difficult. 

Why not take the opportunity at work? And besides, everything is more entertaining than sitting around and waiting for the place to close for the day.

“I did,” Sunwoo carefully admits, “but that was more to do with the general attractivity. I’d say those two go hand in hand, and therefore me, as the objectively more desirable one, should go deliver these.” 

Eric blinks slowly at his friend, trying to process the self-absorbed words spilling out of the taller one’s mouth. “Are you calling me ugly right now?”

“No–”

“I’m pretty sure you just called me ugly.”

“I would never–”

“I’d say I’m the cuter one,” Eric snaps back, shrugging. “I have this aura around me–”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. You know the note was obviously for me, so why don’t we stop this and you let me make this delivery? You can always do the next one–”

The argument is growing more heated. Who would’ve thought such a simple note would lead to two men trying to advertise themselves as the cuter one? The room is filled with testosterone, although the objective of the fight was somewhere completely else– the question was who the cuter one was, and if they had to be truthful, they had to go with facts, no?

Small things are cute. Eric is shorter than Sunwoo. Logically, it should be him– but he won’t say this comment out loud in fear of carrying the burden of admitting to his laughable height in front of his spiteful friend’s ears. 

“How can you tell it was for you?” Eric scoffs. The arguments were starting to get ridiculous.

“It was the energy, I swear, the note is calling for me–”

“Boys, the pizzas are ready!” the voice of Eric’s dad calls from the kitchen, making both of them snap their heads towards the source and hurry. Never in a thousand years have either of them reacted to an order so quickly– not even in the highest of rushes– when they reach for the two boxes with grabby hands, like it was some sort of a prize.

It felt like everything was on the line. Eric Sohn prides himself in being a fast runner, but when he senses the taller boy breathing down his neck, he breaks all rules of safe workspace and also friendship as he outstretches his leg towards the right, tripping the boy– all to win the title of the cutest delivery boy.

Snatching the pizzas and also the car keys, Eric pays his coworker a victorious smile. Sunwoo glares at him from the ground, breathing heavily, anger roaring inside of his body. Eric finds this as his cue to hurry out before he’s attacked– while he’s a good runner, he was never quite good at combat– and so he jogs out of the pizzeria and unlocks the door to the Honda Civic parked outside, hopping in and typing in the address into the GPS on his phone.

Back over at your place, you try to pass the time by watching the TV. Netflix failed you with its poor selection of things to watch– mainly because you’ve already seen most of the true crime documentaries that you could find– so you just let yourself get pulled into the doom of teleshopping, your brain quickly getting used to the flashing images and over-exaggerated voices advertising the newest sumo slicer. You had a long day at university today– while also finally managing to get the internship with the company you dreamed of working for– and after all of the stress, your brain decided to simply turn off.

You’re only taken out from your trance as the doorbell rings, making you jump slightly at the loud noise. Dinner must be here– your stomach churning at the premise of a good pizza already (you have to give it to Izzy. She was right and you do deserve pizza tonight)– and so you stand up from the sofa in the living room, calling for your roommate.

“Izzy, the pizza’s here! Come get the door if you wanna see the guy!” you yell into the depths of your apartment. 

You get no response. Did she fall asleep? “Izzy!” you call again, this time louder.

“Coming!” you hear her reply. You wait a few seconds, standing in the hall, when the doorbell rings again– after not opening the door for at least 2 minutes, you’re starting to get worried that the delivery man will just turn on his heel and take your pizzas away from you. 

And you can’t let that happen– not when you were finally persuaded into eating them– all because your roommate is seemingly getting ready to open the door and see the newly found love of her life, probably putting on some cute clothes in her room.

“I’m just gonna get it!” you say, reaching for the door handle.

Opening the door, you are met with the sight of a delivery boy standing on the other side, two boxes in his hands, shifting weight from his heel to the tips of his toes. He sends you a soft smile before he raises his eyebrows at you so high they almost touch the red cap adorning his head, opening his mouth to speak.

“Eric?”

“Y/N?”

Both of you shock the other with the recognition. You haven’t seen Eric Sohn since elementary school– and while you must admit that the son of your parents’ friends grew up to be mildly attractive, you must say he hasn’t changed a bit. Now, this whole interaction grew even more embarrassing for you– you completely forgot about the note.

“Hello?” your roommate calls from behind you, walking up to the door in– you guessed it– her finest clothes. She always wears this outfit out, which makes you roll your eyes at her. She is trying too hard. And for whom? Eric Sohn, of all people?

“Izzy, here’s the cutest delivery boy you asked for,” you awkwardly say, trying to save your face. You won’t allow her to embarrass you like this– yes, you are completely content with throwing her under the bus in this situation. This is the boy you were forced to hang out with the whole entirety of elementary school, after all. You won’t let her humiliate you by making him believe it was you who found him so attractive.

Because let’s face it– he wasn’t. Well… 

Maybe he was and you’re lying to yourself. But still– you won’t let him think you’d be so pathetic to shoot your shot by an online order. The boxes in his hands have Sohn’s pizza written all over them– maybe you should’ve paid more attention to the name of the pizzeria you were ordering from. 

“Ah,” Izzy hums, and something in her composure shifts. Her shoulders drop and her smile dims– and that’s when you realize Eric is not the delivery boy she was hoping for. You have to laugh at her.

Izzy makes no effort to move or take the pizzas from the boy’s hands, and that’s when you take charge. Sighing at her, you move her out of the way before you send Eric an apologetic smile, freeing him off your order. “Thank you for the pizzas,” you say, watching as the delivery boy nods at you, offering you an awkward smile.

You push the boxes into Izzy’s hands, ordering her with your eyes to take them into the kitchen. As she slowly moves out of the hall and disappears into the apartment, you face the boy again, still standing at your doorstep. You scan him all over– from the top of his red cap that’s hiding his honey blonde locks to the black cargo pants covering his legs– before you nod to yourself, the awkward atmosphere making you tense under his gaze.

“Uhm…” you hum, not really knowing what else to say to diffuse the atmosphere. This is embarrassing. This is humiliating. Why did your dumb roommate do this? 

Now she got the poor boy disappointed. Couldn’t Izzy at least act like he’s the one?

“Well, I’ll.. see you around, I guess…?” Eric says, nodding to himself. He scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you– one short glance up and down that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, making you instantly regret getting the door in your sweatpants and the pink socks with hearts and a single hole on the toe on them– before he takes a step back from the doorstep and starts walking away from your apartment.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, mentally punching yourself with how pathetic you sound, “see you around. And… and thank you again! For the pizzas, I mean…” you hum. Now, you’re mentally kicking yourself. Scratch that, you’re throwing yourself down the stairs. Why are you so awkward? You’re only making it worse.

He flashes you a smile, not oblivious to the shame you feel. If you really think about it, the situation is kind of funny, isn’t it? 

“Bye, Y/N,” he says, waving at you as he walks down the stairwell, sending you one last glance over his shoulder.

“Yeah, bye!”

Closing the door behind you, you try to take deep breaths to steady yourself. You will murder your roommate with your own two hands and use her blood as the sauce for your pizza. Slowly walking towards the kitchen, you see Izzy munching on the pepperoni slice, sending you a look full of innocence.

“Well, that didn’t work out,” she says, trying to make light of the situation, ignoring how embarrassing this situation was for both parties involved. Without a word, you sit down at the table, opening the box of your pizza of choice, taking a bite. 

“Are you okay? You seem a bit–”

“Shut it.”

“How was it, bubs?” Izzy asks you once you get into the car while simultaneously reaching for the volume button on the radio, turning the music down so she can hear you talk.

“Terrible,” you mourn, sighing as you buckle your seatbelt and watch your roommate back out of the parking lot. She was nice enough to offer to drive you home after your first day of your new mandatory internship, and although you told her over and over how you didn’t need a ride and could just walk home after, you’re actually very grateful for her act of kindness now– for your feet hurt like a bitch and you’re so mentally tired you think you could get lost on your way home, had you not paid enough attention.

“That bad?” she hums, voice full of consideration. Izzy only pays you a short look full of undeniable worry before she gazes back at the road– thankfully, because she is not the best driver and you think her not paying full attention to where she’s going would significantly lower the chances of you getting home safely today– subtly allowing you to vent about the day you had.

A grunt escapes your mouth. “Yeah,” you agree, “it’s just– god. The place is full of morons, my boss is demanding a marketing project from me until the end of my internship, everyone keeps using me as their coffee delivery person because I’m new, and I forgot everyone’s names already…” you complain, furrowing your brows in concern. How are you going to survive going there weekly?

As a business student, you have to go through an internship in order to successfully graduate. Getting one was already hard enough, but the responsibilities that come with doing all the stuff you’re not even educated enough to do yet are only making the weight on your shoulders heavier and heavier to the point where you suddenly start to doubt if you’re even good enough for your major. Hell, you barely have any interest in it in the first place– hence why you lack the enthusiasm your boss would surely love to see from you.

“Can’t they just not make it easier for you?” she shakes her head in disapproval. “You’re a mere student, not the new hire,” Izzy grunts, sympathizing with you.

“Apparently not,” you roll your eyes. “I’m so tired, man…” you sigh, resting your head against the window, letting your eyes close for a bit. “Thanks for giving me a ride, Izz.”

“No worries,” she innocently replies. Almost too innocently, you think– but with the amount of hours you slept last night and the mental overload of new information you had today, you choose to not pay much attention to it. Maybe you’re just making it up…

If the drive was a bit longer, you’re sure you would’ve fallen asleep. The car comes to a halt in a few more minutes, though, and the sudden silence of the vehicle as the engine turns off and the radio goes silent has you opening your eyes, scanning your surroundings.

And you were right. Izzy was almost too nice in giving you a ride home. You should’ve known she always had different motives.

“Why are we here?” you ask, choosing not to face her so you don’t have to look at the dumb smile on her face again, for you think that if she dared to force innocence on herself right now, you’d seriously punch her.

“Oh,” she hums, “I thought we could get pizza for dinner.”

“We had pizza last week,” you deadpan, tone of voice only a bit hostile.

“That’s correct,” she agrees, “however, I am in the mood for some pizza right now. And we don’t really have any groceries at home, so I think this is the best alternative to end your bad day–”

“You’re not dragging me in there after embarrassing us so much last week, Isabelle,” you grunt, pulling out the full name to act more tough and get your point across. “I am never going there again. You simply can’t force me–”

“Oh come on! You’re ruining all fun.”

“That’s because I am not having fun right now,” you note, already too tired after the long day.

“Then let me cheer you up! I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it,” Izzy glares at you, sighing. “Besides, the last time I checked, you owe me pizza, and I would like to redeem that now.”

“Since when–”

“Don’t think I forgot that you didn’t pay me back last time,” she cuts you off, sending you a stern look.

If you were closer to home right now, you would’ve left the car and just walked back to your apartment, leaving your dear flatmate to get her pizza alone. You both know you’re not here for the pizza itself anyway– so why does she need you there? As an excuse? It’s already embarrassing enough for the both of you. Why won’t she just drop it?

But since the circumstances are given the way they are– you’re tired, hungry, frustrated and full of worry about your internship– you figure there is really no need to argue with your roommate right now. When she sets her mind on something, she is going to get it, no matter what. You know her well enough.

“Fine,” you sigh, getting out of the car and slamming the passenger door with as much force as you can humanly conjure in yourself after the long day, satisfaction flowing through your veins at the sound that’s loud enough to make your roommate jump in surprise.

You’re going to give her what she wants, but you’re not going to act happy about it. You’re just gonna get the pizza and leave. That’s the plan.

Walking up to the building of Sohn’s Pizza, you push the door open, ears instantly catching the low music coming from speakers situated in the corners of the room. You haven’t been here before, so you take your sweet time looking around– noticing the neat-looking interior, admiring the wooden furniture– before you walk towards the table in the corner of the middle-sized restaurant, sitting down. Izzy follows you like a lost puppy with its tail wagging because she got what she wanted before she sits down opposite of you, offering you a giant smile. She is like a kid under the Christmas tree with the toy she always desired securely in her grasp. Which is weird– the cute delivery boy hasn’t even shown up yet.

After scanning the menu for a bit– since you already know what you’re going to get– a server walks up to your table, a big, welcoming smile on her face. She is short even when wearing heels, hair pulled up into a ponytail, straight-across bangs sitting on her forehead. It’s been years since you last saw her, but the resemblance is undeniable– it’s Eric Sohn’s older sister.

“Hello! What can I get for you today, girls?” she asks as she takes out a notepad. Her eyes land on you for a bit before she gasps, even a bigger smile appearing on her cheeks, if that’s possible. “Oh my god, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you nod, grinning. “It’s me.”

“How are you?” she asks, beaming. You and Lisa were never really close– since she was so much older than you back when you hung around the Sohn’s house, but she was always really kind to you. You remember her making snacks for you and Eric to eat in afternoons or taking you two out to get ice cream, your heart squeezing at the nostalgic memories.

“I’m good, what about you?” you ask, genuinely interested.

“I’m fine,” she nods. “Well, just rotting in here, if I’m being honest, but other than that, I’ve been good,” she laughs, making you mirror her actions.

“Well, it’s really pretty here, if that makes you feel any better,” you smile.

She shrugs at your compliment. “I did most of the decorating, so it should be,” she snickers before she looks back at you after scanning over the entire room. “What will you get today, then?”

“Just a margherita is fine,” you note, “could I possibly get extra cheese on that?” 

“Anything for little Y/N,” she hums, making you roll your eyes at her teasing– yet the grin never leaves your features. “And for your friend?”

“I’ll get pepperoni,” she peeps. It’s unusual for your roommate to be so quiet in a conversation– you guess she was caught off guard at your sudden acquaintanceship with the staff in her new favorite restaurant.

“Coming right up!” Lisa smiles, walking away from your table.

After the server leaves, you are left with a few seconds of silence from your roommate. You raise your brows at her in question, mocking her change in demeanor, waiting for her to get back to her usual, chatty self. “What?”

“You know her?”

“Obviously,” you snicker. “Our families used to be close years ago,” you note, shrugging.  “We lived in the same neighborhood.”

“Wow…” she hums. “So you know that guy who dropped our pizzas off last week as well?”

“I do,” you nod. “We are the same age, so our mums forced us to hang out often.”

“Interesting….” Izzy says, lost in thought. If you didn’t know better, you’d suspect she was scheming something up. Actually, you think you know her well enough– just give it a few more minutes.

The door opens again, making you two look around and watch the people coming into the restaurant. Instead of new customers, you are met with two men obviously wearing work uniforms– white shirts with a pizza logo in red on them– the shorter one with a cap on, the taller one with baggy jeans adorning his long legs. You recognise one of them instantly– and even despite the nature of the restaurant, his presence still shocks you and makes you feel alarmed.

You feel something come in contact with your shin as your roommate kicks your leg under the table. “That’s him, that’s him, that’s him–” Izzy chimes, whispering, making you furrow your brows at her in question. Yeah, of course that’s him. Eric’s dad owns the restaurant. Who the other guy by his side is, though, you don’t–

oh.

So that must be the cute delivery boy your roommate has been thirsting over for the last couple of weeks. She has a lot of determination in her, you’ll give her that. If it was you, you would’ve forgotten about a random mediocrily attractive server after a day or two. Not her, though. What a strange woman…

“Y/N!” you hear for the second time today. Your heart skips a beat at the tone this time, making you remember the events of last week, heat instantly creeping up your neck at the memory.

“Hi,” you peep, watching as the two men make a bee-line towards your table.

“Hello,” he greets. He wears a bright smile on his face– one that makes his cheeks look fuller, something in his eyes glimmering (you think it might just be the reflection of the lights). He is wearing a blue cap today, covering his honey locks– which leaves you wondering if he has a fucked haircut, or if he really just likes to wear hats that much– but other than that, his attire is the same as last time. “What’s up?” he asks.

Casual. Friendly. Like nothing happened– like this whole encounter isn’t totally embarrassing. 

Or is it not? Are you just being overly-dramatic again? You really don’t know at this point. 

Still, you act nonchalant. “Oh, not much,” you hum, “just got off my first day of internship, so we decided to get some pizza to comfort myself.”

“Didn’t go well?” Eric asks, a sympathetic look on his face. Somehow, his concern seems genuine.

“You could say that,” you note, shrugging.

“It will be better next time,” he says lightly, smiling at you all encouragingly. For the first time in the last couple of seconds, you pay attention to your roommate again– seeing her eyes glued to the taller boy. If this was a cartoon, there would be hearts drawn in her sockets and she would be drooling. Izzy seems to be totally enchanted with the delivery boy currently standing to Eric’s right, and you can’t stand the view any longer.

“Oh, this is Sunwoo, by the way,” Eric says, introducing his coworker. 

“Nice to meet you,” you smile, shaking the boy’s hand. He sends you a boyish grin, greeting you back, before he moves towards your flatmate, holding her hand in his.

“Izzy,” she introduces herself, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. “We’re roommates.”

“I gathered as much,” Eric notes– almost a little awkwardly– making your body electrify with a full body cringe. Why can’t he just pretend last week didn’t happen?

“Yeah,” you hum, nodding and scratching the back of your neck. “She pretty much dragged me here, haha…” you vocalize the laughter as a word, mentally slapping yourself. Haha? What’s so funny? Y/N, you’re only making it worse.

“Well, it’s nice seeing you again,” Eric says. When your eyes meet, he averts his gaze, an awkward cough battling its way out of his throat. “Uhm… we better get back to work, or else my sister’s gonna kill me–”

“Oh, but it’s not busy!” Izzy suddenly utters out, making you snap your head towards her with shock, a look worthy of many words burning a hole into the middle of her forehead. What is she thinking? “Why don’t you sit with us for a while? It seems like you and Y/N have a lot to catch up on,” your roommate sweetly says, throwing the burden onto your shoulders again. 

Why are you suddenly forced into the role of a wingman? You really didn’t sign up for this.

“Oh, I–”

“I could use a little break,” Sunwoo grins, not even waiting for his coworker to immediately deny the idea. You swear you can mentally hear your roommate's excited squealing on a telepathic frequency as the dark-haired boy takes a seat right next to her, sprawling his legs wide and resting his back against the chair, seemingly tired. “Come on, Eric. Lisa has a soft spot for me, she won’t eat our heads off.”

Eric meets your gaze. You hope your brains match at frequencies with the boy as well as you send him mental apologies, the atmosphere once again getting too awkward for you to handle. He seems to be the victim of his friend’s terrorizing strategies as much as you are, though, so you think there is silent understandment hanging in the air over the two of you as he reluctantly sits on the chair next to you.

You’re starting to think Izzy has a death wish. You’re also starting to be fairly certain that you will be the one to fulfill it.

The passage of time is weird. It’s a strange construct to you, finding yourself dwelling on it at times when it’s the least suitable to– especially when you have things to do and a workload to get through. See, it’s incredibly bizarre to you how when you’re doing nothing, time is passing by quickly without you even noticing it: a few episodes of your favorite TV show go by and you’re suddenly well into the evening. When you’re working on assignments, though, it seems like time has stopped. 

You promised yourself you’re going to stay in the library and work on the project you were assigned in your internship until at least 6PM. You arrived at 3 o’clock– three hours should be easy, right? Not that much time.

Wrong. Because you swear you’ve been aimlessly searching around the internet and writing things down for at least 10 years now, and it’s only been an hour and you still have two more to go. Time is weird like that. It’s fascinating– at least when you hypnotize the numbers in the right corner of your screen, sucked into the doom of your laptop. Maybe you should’ve taken Physics instead. You’d love to learn about this.

(The fact that this has nothing to do with Physics and everything to do with your focus and attention is a completely invalid argument to you at this moment, so you don’t even let yourself think about it.)

Something finally pulls you out of the hyper focused state that you put yourself in while staring at the time on your screen (as if to mentally push the clock to go faster), and that is a figure moving right opposite of you, resting their hand on the back of a chair.

“Hi,” you hear, making you snap your head up and face the intruder, “can I sit here?”

“Hi…?” you mumble, watching the boy in front of you not wait for your answer as he pulls the chair back and settles his body onto it. He empties his pockets in the true manly fashion– putting his wallet, his phone and his keys onto the wooden table– all while letting you absorb his existence for a bit before you have to react to it some more. 

You spent years not seeing Eric Sohn. Now, you bump into him at least every other week. Strange.

He is wearing a simple white hoodie, his hair now not covered by a cap. You glance over the honey blonde locks, noting to yourself that he does not have a messed up trim, which means he just must like hats a lot. You feel like you should probably say something– start up a conversation– but the shock of seeing him is still settled deep in your bones, stopping you from every attempt.

Looking around the library, you note that it’s half-empty– meaning that Eric could’ve chosen any seat, any other seat in the whole entire place– yet he chose to sit right opposite of you at one of the long tables in the middle of the room. Nodding to yourself as you absorb the information, you open your mouth to say something– anything– before the boy beats you to it, acting in his true, nonchalant casualty.

“What are you working on?” he asks. “I mean… you seemed quite miserable when I arrived, so I assumed it was for the best to take you out of the frozen state before you go crazy,” he jokes, having you close your mouth and awkwardly smile at him.

“Yeah,” you hum, shrugging. “I was mainly just trying to force the time to go quicker with the sheer power of my gaze, but I think it doesn’t work like that…” 

“You set up a timer for yourself?” he asks, laughing.

“Kinda,” you nod. “I knew I had to hold myself accountable and do work, or else I’m going to leave things until the last minute and hate myself even more for not doing anything sooner, so I told myself I’ll work on my assignments until 6, but it’s… easier said than done.”

Eric nods at you, acknowledging your struggle. He takes out his own laptop and presses the power button. As he waits for it to turn on, he looks back at you, his gaze making you nervous. 

It’s not that you don’t like Eric– not at all, you have your fair share of fond memories with the boy when you were little– it’s just that you haven’t seen him in ages, haven’t properly talked to him since you were kids. You know nothing about the man he is right now– aside from the fact that his father owns a pizza place now. You don’t even know what he majors in. Hell, you didn’t even know he went to the same university as you up to this point– which makes everything just a little bit too awkward for you.

How to navigate the conversation? What to talk about? Why does he not just… ignore you? It’s not like the two of you were that close in the first place.

“What do you major in?” he asks. You wonder if it’s sheer politeness, or if he really just wants to know.

“Business,” you say, tone of voice hinting that you’re not really satisfied with your own answer. “I’m actually supposed to be working on a project for my mandatory internship right now.”

“Damn… what is it?” he asks. 

Scratching the back of your neck, you lick your lips before answering. “It’s like… I have to make a pitch about a new product for them to sell. I work in the sales section for Trust, the insurance company, so I have to do a lot of… market research… and then also marketing… it’s… kind of a lot, actually…” you nervously laugh, trying to diffuse the fact that you’re genuinely scared of the very project you were assigned.

Eric stares at you with interest, a look of acknowledgement settling onto his face. “Wow. That sounds hard.”

“I mean, I don’t know…” you shrug. “Maybe I’m just too stupid for this–”

“No you’re not,” the boy instantly cuts you off, shaking your head. “I’d say they just have high demands from you.”

His words do a bit to soothe you. You avoid asking your classmates about their internships in fear of being the only one that’s finding things hard and being overly-dramatic. Talking to someone who doesn’t really have the same experience as you makes things a bit easier– you can complain and they won’t judge, because there’s no way they know how it feels. Eric won’t judge you for finding your business internship hard, because he doesn’t know what it takes– at least not on his own skin. But if you’d complain to your classmate Yeji, for example, she might find it weird– what if your tasks are the easiest thing to do in her eyes?

“Thanks,” you hum. “What do you major in, though?” you ask him, somehow committing to keeping the conversation going for just a little more time.

“Communications,” he laughs. “I just… write a lot of papers, I guess.”

“Ah,” you nod in acknowledgement. 

You feel like you should add something. Maybe you should comment, sympathize, ask more questions, but in the moment, no fitting words reach your mind. After a heartbeat of silence, Eric’s eyes finally leave your figure to focus on his laptop, and the only thing resonating through your brain is the fact that the last two times you met him, it was painfully awkward and maybe a little strange– which leads you to questioning the fact that he still chose to approach you today.

“Look, Eric, we… you don’t have to act like we’re friends now,” you say, refusing to meet his gaze. Somehow, your blank laptop screen is much more interesting. “And I’m sorry about last week,” you note, tone of voice lighthearted– trying to mask how much you actually think about the encounters and how they make you wish they never even happened. Somehow, you worry about how you’re perceived by him. “My roommate just kind of likes your coworker– Sunwoo–” you call him by his name, “so she has been doing all of this to get his attention, and it’s…”

“It’s okay,” Eric laughs, making you glance up from the blank document and finally meet his eyes. There is no stern look on his face, no signs of disappointment or disgust on his features. It helps you calm down a bit. “I’m used to girls being all over Sunwoo, really,” he says, shrugging.

“Yeah…” you sigh. “Sorry for making it all awkward, and stuff. As I said, you don’t have to feel obliged to–”

“I don’t, though,” he hums. The sentiment silences you. You offer him nothing but a nod, suddenly at a loss for words. “Look, we used to be close when we were kids,” he shrugs, “so don’t even worry about it.”

You’re not really sure what his words are meant to imply. Does he mean that you’re friends now again? Does he mean he doesn’t find this whole thing absolutely awkward? Are you supposed to hang out more often now? Do you get his number? 

After trying to clarify everything, you’re left even more confused.

If there’s one thing about Eric Sohn that you remember from your childhood, it’s the fact that he’s friendly. And also… pretty fucking competetive. “It’s almost 4:30. Whoever gives up on their assignment first pays for coffee later, yeah?” he challenges you, looking at you with mischief glimmering in his dark orbs.

You guess both of these qualities stayed with him until adulthood, and although you were awkward with him just a few minutes ago, you don’t really have it in you to overthink the interaction any longer.

“Deal,” you nod.

As if this was all the motivation you needed, you get back to working.

“Jokes on you, drinking is not a forfeit for me,” Jake, the underclassmen you see around the campus sometimes says after a round of spin the bottle in which he refuses to make out with the person to his right (that was friend Sunghoon from middle school, just for the record), “I actually enjoy it. So–”

“You should stop drinking, dude…” the said friend nudges him to his shoulder, looking at the boy with a concerned look in his eye. It’s no secret that both of them are light drinkers, but one of them is clearly handling his alcohol worse– and it’s the shorter one of the two. 

“Why? You wanna make out with me?”

“I’d rather not carry you home again, that’s all–”

“That sounds a bit sus, Hoon–” Jake snickers before he downs the shot of whatever alcohol is passed to him, “y’know, if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so…” he slurs, making Sunghoon sigh, closing his eyes for a second to collect himself in time before the frustration in him turns into anger and he swings at his friend.

You can’t help but laugh at the commotion. You don’t really go out to party much– since you and Izzy are introverted, you don’t really search for these types of gatherings– but you figured that doing something other than watching the TV on a Friday evening would be nice. Especially when you were invited by the guy you met in your internship. 

It felt rude to deny an invitation to a party by Park Jihoon, given the fact that you wanted to make friends and connections during your stay with the company. He is an intern just like you– maybe a bit more energetic and extroverted, that’s all. Which you welcome with open arms, just for the record. It’s been a while since an extrovert extroverted the way they are supposed to and adopted you– it’s always a pleasant experience.

You’re also not really the one to participate in a game of spin the bottle. You find such games embarrassing and nerve-wrecking. They induce anxiety in you from what you have to do, and it’s not the good kind. The adrenaline in your veins is enough for you to call it quits, but then again, you’re always good at falling for peer pressure and your roommate’s battling eyelashes are ones you don’t find yourself resisting too often. 

There’s alcohol running through your system, warming you up. Wearing a cropped top and shorts surprisingly didn’t really help you to cool down as you soothe yourself with alcohol after another week of stressing yourself over your damn internship project (which Jihoon offered to help with, but you’re too much of an individualist to let anyone partake in even just the smallest task of your assignment) and after careful consideration, you realize you haven’t had that much to eat before turning up to the party.

Which is always a mistake. Drinking on an empty stomach is one of the biggest flaws you bring with yourself to social gatherings.

“Maybe I should eat,” you suddenly comment, perking up the attention of Jihoon to your right. He looks at you with considerate eyes and nods.

“There should be pizza coming soon, actually.”

“Really?” you gasp, excitement suddenly flowing through your bones. It’s been at least a month since you last had pizza, and you’re slowly starting to crave it. Did Izzy give up on that cute delivery boy? Maybe you should remind her… the pizza was worth it, you must admit.

“Yeah–” 

And as if you wished it into existence, the sound of the doorbell suddenly brings you out of the conversation and has people closest to the door standing up to get it.

It seems like randomly running up to Eric Sohn is your newest hobby. It’s strange how life works– you haven’t seen him in ages, and suddenly, he finds his way to randomly walk back into the plotline of your life casually, as if it was fate. It’s kind of laughable, really. 

Because there he is– standing behind the door with boxes of pizza in his hands, accompanied by his friend Sunwoo holding up even more. The amount could feed a whole village, you think, and you’re suddenly glad you aren’t the one paying for the food, since you’re sure it would add up to a big check. The crowd hollers at the two boys at the door, and it takes you a few seconds to realize it’s not because of the feast they just brought into the building.

“Eric! Sunwoo! Come in, you two!” Jihoon suddenly calls from next to you, waving the two over with a motion of his hand. This has the shorter boy look into the spacious living room, eyes scanning the surroundings. His eyes fix on you for a second, offering you a smile, before they move back to the host.

“Can’t, we’re on the clock, actually,” Eric snickers awkwardly, shrugging.

“Oh come on!” Haechan, the boy that was introduced to you today as Jihoon’s best friend, joins. It seems like everyone around knows exactly who Eric Sohn is, and it leaves you wondering just how you managed to unawarely avoid him for all those years. “Just for a bit!”

“Yeah,” Jihoon adds. “Just stay for like 10 minutes, or something. Actually,” the tipsy boy has a million-dollar idea, “I’m not paying y’all until you stay for a bit. How about that?”

“Great, dude,” Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend’s tactics. “Let’s go in, then.”

The two get ridded of the pizzas they brought, walking up into the room. You feel Izzy poking your leg with her pointer finger repeatedly, and when you look at her, she is staring at you with eyes that remind you of someone slowly slipping into a manic state. You think it’s the effect of Kim Sunwoo entering the room with a smirk on his face, but you’re not really sure at this point.

“What are we playing?” Sunwoo asks the obvious as he sits down, dragging his friend with him. Their spot is currently straight across from you. After more careful examination, you realize Eric’s eyes are glued on your figure, making you smile at him and wave silently before he moves to scan your new friend sitting close to your right. 

The last time you’ve seen Eric was that day at the library. That was almost 2 weeks ago now, and although you went for a coffee after you declared that you ‘simply can’t do it anymore’ and ‘would rather die than to work on this project any longer’, he insisted on paying for both of your drinks instead of making you do it, as was previously agreed on. You exchanged numbers after chatting and walking around for a bit, and although you waited for him to text you the same week, he never did, and you never tried to make conversation either.

Somehow, you simply didn’t know what to say. Then again– it’s not like the two of you were friends in the first place.

The game proceeds like before even with the new members added. Some of the people hanging out around the living room move to eat the pizzas, but if you’re being completely honest, the idea of eating was long forgotten to you the moment Eric and Sunwoo walked through the front door. Admittedly, maybe you did have a considerate amount to drink this evening, because everything is starting to turn into a bit of a blur from this moment. You watch the game absent-mindedly, not really taking much in, as your eyes sometimes subconsciously move to Eric sitting leisurely on the sofa opposite of you.

After a round where Jihoon is asked to suck on Haechan’s toe and Yizhuo is told to confess the last person she hooked up with (which was a guy to whose name everyone gasped, but left you clueless, since you didn’t really know who it was), your biggest fears are proven to be reality as the bottle lands on you. Heartbeat instantly picking up at speed, making you hear your own blood in your ears, you look up from the cursed item and wait to hear your ordeal.

Who would’ve thought playing spin the bottle would feel like a near-death experience?

“Truth or dare?” Yizhuo asks.

After a second of consideration, you blurt out: “Dare.”

Big mistake. At least you can lie when you pick the truth, goddamn it. What was drunk you even thinking…?

“Okay,” she nods, contemplating for a bit. As the gears in her head start working and the idea comes into her brain, a smug smirk appears on her face, hinting that this whole evening was a bad, bad idea. “I dare you to sit in the lap of the hottest guy here for three rounds.”

The crowd goes crazy. 

Girls gasp, guys whistle, and your brain– it completely shuts off. Alcohol should logically make you feel more courageous and daring, no? That’s what they all say. 

You’re the one to prove the sentiment wrong as you gulp and contemplate your next decision. Given the fact that you’re one shot away from throwing up, you decide to not drink to protect yourself– making sure you save your image and don’t embarrass yourself by showing the contents of your stomach to everyone on Park Jihoon’s beige rug.

Scanning the circle, you watch the men situated right in front of you in the living room. It resembles window shopping a bit, except you’re feeling really fucking miserable while doing it. You know it’s all fun and games and that if you take the situation with enough nonchalance, everything will turn out fine– hell, some might not even remember this moment in the morning, so it’s really not that big of a deal– but the more you contemplate the object of your dare, the more nervous you’re starting to feel.

Kim Sunwoo is a clear no go. You and Jihoon are close enough where it wouldn’t feel awkward, but somehow, you know you would be lying to yourself if you picked him. Your eyes smoothly drift past Haechan, Jake and Sunghoon, all the way past Renjun and Jeno to Eric sitting right across from you, eyeing you with interest in his dark orbs. 

The circle is starting to rush you. Jihoon nudges your side, telling you to ‘just pick one,’, making you briefly glance at him with a stern look in your eyes. After your gaze lands back on Eric– whose eyebrows slightly furrow when he notices you paying attention to your new friend– you come to a downing realization of the fact that somehow, your eyes keep landing on the short boy, not really wanting to look away.

It’s alright. It’s nothing. Eric Sohn is conventionally attractive– you’re sure it’s not that big of a deal. 

Standing up from your spot, hearing the crowd pick up the excitement, you walk over to the other side of the circle– while trying not to trip over your own foot and fall over in the process. Eric looks up at you with big eyes glimmering, expecting your final answer, making your palms sweat and voice a little shaky as you awkwardly let out.

“Do you mind…?”

The question is laughable, really. You audibly hear Yeji and Yizhuo squeal in excitement at your action, while Haechan hollers out a laugh from the back. Trying to ignore the reactions, faking nonchalance, you watch as Eric shifts slightly in his spot and moves his hands to his sides, as if to make some space for you, before he shrugs. 

“Go ahead.”

Nodding to yourself, you scratch the back of your neck before you turn your back to him and slowly settle yourself onto his lap. 

And here you thought the delivery boy incident could simply not be beaten on the scale of awkward and embarrassing moments with Eric Sohn.

It’s now your turn to spin the bottle, you realize– which you try to focus on instead of the fact that you are currently sitting in the lap of the guy you grew up with– making you bend to the ground and proceed with the game. Only three rounds and you can move back to your initial spot, you think. You just have to survive three rounds of this stupid game before you’re free.

Watching the empty wine bottle spin in circles before it stops, your eyes move to the side with the opening, trying to see who it landed on. When you look up, your roommate is staring back at you with a suspicious look on her face, not even waiting for you to ask the question to determine her fate. “Dare,” she spits out. 

Her eyes bear into you with such intensity you think she’s trying to tell you something, but right as you try to match her brain frequency and decipher what exactly she wants from you right in this moment, you feel Eric’s hands land lightly onto your sides. 

They don’t move, nor do they put any pressure into your skin. They just lay there, fingers on the skin of your bare midriff, sending an electric shock into your brain that completely shuts off your telepathic communication with Izzy, making you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind.

“Uh… prank call your latest hook up and tell him you want to get together with him,” you say.

She immediately throws darts into your skull, making you regret your decision. 

What? Is it not spicy enough? Judging from the reactions of the rest of the players, you’d say you did a good job– which makes you believe she just didn’t want to expose hooking up with Jaemin in front of everyone.

Nonetheless, she moves on with the dare. You don’t really pay much attention to it as a wave of sickness comes over you. You’re genuinely left seeing things twice, which leads you to close your eyes and rest your head in your hands for a second before a low voice lands into your ear.

“How drunk are you on a scale of 1 to 10?” Eric asks.

“Like… 8, I think?” you snicker. “I’m okay, I just need to–”

Before you get a chance to finish your sentence or even barely think of what would help you in this moment, you feel Eric’s hands on your sides lightly tug your body towards him, leaving you to fully glue your figure onto his. Your back meets his front, sprawling out onto the sofa, leaving you to settle your head onto his shoulder. 

You can’t say your stomach feels less crazy at the moment, but you also can’t say this isn’t strangely nice. “Better?” he asks. 

You think you lost your voice for a second, so you only offer him a nod. 

His next actions leave you wondering if he’s always been this touchy and affectionate. While one of his arms sneaks around your waist and holds you to him, his other palm leaves to take its new place on your thigh. The rational side of your brain is telling you that this is just the most comfortable place to let your arms rest when you have someone sitting in your lap, but it’s still enough to have heat rising up your neck, slowly warming up your face.

A few seconds pass before Eric absent-mindedly starts to draw circles onto your quad, your brain hyper-focused onto the feeling of his forearm on your bare midriff. When he laughs at the way Izzy’s prank call is going– to which he earns a warning look from your roommate to keep quiet and not break the facade– you feel his body vibrating under you, making you realize that you’re the only one out of the two that is so affected by this simple gesture.

It leaves you feeling silly. It must be the alcohol, surely– but god,

Eric Sohn surely has hands that make hell seem cold.

You’re woken up in the morning to the sound of your roommate screaming, yelling at you. Not only do you already have a massive headache from the hangover you surely accidentally threw yourself in, now you also feel like there is someone cutting parts of your brain off with a knife. (Which sounds contradicting, because you do know the brain can’t be in pain. Why does it feel like that, then?)

“You had the perfect opportunity to think of something that could make me and Sunwoo closer. You could’ve said anything! But no, you chose to–”

“Why are you screaming?” you ask, voice hoarse and quiet, your throat scratchy as you utter the few words.

“–lay in Eric’s lap like a princess and do nothing–” she continues, making you wince. It’s not that you don’t remember the moment, no– you do. The memory is almost painfully crystal clear in your brain, you just didn’t really mean to think of it the first thing in the morning.

“Isabelle,” you grit your teeth and put your pillow over your eyes to shield them from the sunlight that is only making your headache worse, “I’m gonna need you to shut. the. fuck. up–”

“You’re a terrible, terrible wingwoman, I’ll tell you that,” she accuses you.

Suddenly, the cause for her telling looks and annoyed huffs throughout the last night make total sense. Hell, you’re smarter than this– you shouldn’t need explaining for such a simple task. It was your turn to dare your best friend to do something, and the object of her desire was right there. You will blame the shortcoming on your alcohol-infused brain– in Izzy’s eyes, though, it doesn’t really change the narrative.

“I’m sorry,” you mourn, “I wasn’t thinking properly.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” she grunts, tugging the pillow off your face. “At this rate, me and Sunwoo are never gonna be a thing, and I hope you know it’s completely your fault.”

“How could it be my fault?” you grunt, suddenly frustrated with your roommate. She is the one that isn’t sending him obvious enough hints, and it’s your fault he isn’t catching on? Why are you suddenly blamed for something that is completely out of your control? This is getting a bit ridiculous.

Wanting to sit up on your bed and fight against your roommate, but failing to do so before she escapes your room– sensing that you would throw the pillow onto her as soon as you’d get the chance– you sigh and reach for your phone sitting on your bedside table. There is a notification shining at the top of your screen, and when you unlock your phone and absent-mindedly click on the message, you’re taken off guard by the view in front of you.

Eric Sohn [1:21 AM]: hi, just checking in to see if you got home okay?

You read the message over once, then twice, before you decide to reply. Clearing your throat, as if you were going to record a voice message, you think of the most appropriate answer. 

If you’re being honest, you don’t really remember much about how you got home last night– all you know is that after three rounds of spin the bottle, you reluctantly climbed off Eric’s lap, to which him and Sunwoo escaped the party and trailed back to work with excuses of Eric’s sister killing them if they didn’t show up soon. You’re fairly certain that you and Izzy just took a cab home, but since you notice you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes, you assume you weren’t really with yourself at that moment– which is also the sole reason for you not replying to Eric’s message when you first got it.

You [11:10]: hello!! yes we did :) You [11:10]: sorry for replying so late, but as you could see last night i wasnt rlly checking my phone haha..

Surely this is good enough to play it off. Not suspicious at all! Eric Sohn will never know you were drunk off your face and hardly made it through the front door of your apartment. (Except he does know, and you’re also painfully aware.)

And all of this for what..? A bad week at your internship? You’re one of the weak ones, for sure.

Switching apps and deciding to scroll through Instagram for a bit before you get up and face the day– which includes making lunch, because you didn’t have any leftovers left in the fridge– your phone buzzes in your hands, showing you a new message.

Eric Sohn [11:15]: good to hear :) Eric Sohn [11:15]: are u feeling well? 

God. You feel like throwing up– surely the cause of the alcohol still in your system.

 Well, it’s not like he didn’t know before. And you’re a grown woman! There’s no shame in a bit of a hangover. You’re fairly certain he gets them all the time– you two are in university, after all. 

Faking nonchalance, once again, you text back.

You [11:16]: yeah, just a massive headache that’s all :// You [11:16]: im sure lunch will fix it lol

Eric Sohn [11:16]: speaking of… do u wanna get lunch w me? im sure eating out is a better option for u rn haha

Something inside of you panics at the message. You don’t know what it is, but somehow, you always feel a bit awkward with Eric at first. Maybe it’s the fact that you always remember how you grew up together and then vanished out of each other’s lives– without each other even noticing– or maybe it’s the fact that you always feel like you only embarrass yourself in front of him. 

He seems to be casual about things, though. He doesn’t make fun of you for anything– rather, he takes those moments as opportunities to get closer to you and maybe even build back the friendship you were forced into in childhood, but chose in your adulthood. 

There is no reason to overthink his words or actions. It’s Eric, after all.

Eric Sohn [11:17]: me and sunwoo that is, btw. u can bring your roommate if she’s down!:D

Oh. 

Well, at least you have a way to fix things with your butthurt friend. Clearing your throat before calling into the depths of the apartment– because Izzy left your door open, seemingly hinting that it’s time for you to get up and cook lunch– you slowly start getting out of bed.

“Izzy, do you wanna get lunch with Sunwoo, Eric and I?” you ask, a grin slowly appearing on your face. She rewards you with a few seconds of silence– as if trying to tease you– before she gives you the obvious answer. 

“Yeah.”

“Thought so,” you chuckle, sending Eric back a text agreeing to his invitation. 

After a few minutes spent showering and making yourself look presentable, you walk out of the building with your roommate by your side (that’s currently smelling a bit like she just poured the whole perfume bottle over her), nearing the building you decided to meet in over text messages. It’s a small Korean place just down the street, making you wonder if it’s the boy’s favorite, or if he just chose something that was nearby for you out of convenience.

When you open the door and walk into the place, you’re immediately hugged by the smell of delicious food making your stomach churn in hunger and the low music playing in the background. It doesn’t take you long to notice the two boys already sitting at one of the tables, chatting to each other. Sunwoo is very passionate about something, waving his arms around, but the moment you two arrive at the table, their conversation dies down a bit, replaced by warm greetings.

“Wow, you look terrible,” Sunwoo lets out when his eyes meet your figure. The comment makes you shrink in yourself– truth be told, you know you don’t look your best right now, given the fact that your headache was still very much present and you didn’t put any makeup on– but still, it isn’t the best experience to hear someone say it out loud.

“Thanks,” you nod, watching as your roommate eagerly takes a seat next to Sunwoo, her body in respectful, yet close proximity to his, “I feel like it too.”

“Auch–” the said boy lets out, glaring at Eric sitting opposite of him. You’re not really sure what happened, but you don’t pay it much mind as you slowly settle yourself in the last spot possible– next to Eric in the little booth.

“Did you order already?” Izzy asks, clearly more joy and cheerfulness in her body than in yours. You don’t really know how or why she’s not currently dying of a hangover like you are, but something is telling you that maybe, just maybe, you were the only one that took the drinking too far last night. (You and Sim Jake, that is. The poor boy had to run to puke only a few minutes after the game of spin the bottle ended, and it was not a fun sight.)

“No,” Eric shakes his head, “we were waiting for you to get here. Wanna check the menu? We already skimmed through it.”

You nod at his preposition, taking the laminated paper into your hand. You’re always indecisive when it comes to ordering food– never really knowing what to get, because everything is either foreign to you or too appealing, nothing in between, leaving you on the fence about what you’d like to eat at the given moment– and the lengthy list of options in this place isn’t really helping you. 

A sigh escapes your throat at the sight. Truth be told, you’re not even gonna read the whole thing– so you opt to look at Eric to your right with a begging expression on your face.

“Do you know what you’re getting?” you ask, watching him nod.

“Ramen.”

“Is it good?” you inquire, having the boy nod at you casually, replying to your question.

“Pretty good, yeah,” he answers. “Also, I’d argue that it’s the best for a hangover.”

“Perfect. I’ll have that, then,” you note, putting the menu back to its place on the other side of the table, not really wanting to think about it any longer.

When the waiter comes and asks for your order, you notice Eric taking charge and saying your choice as well, ridding you of the burden. Grateful for his initiative, you turn to smile at him in return, before you choose to rest your head in your hands on the table, still not relaxed enough after the long night you had. 

There’s a soothing hand rubbing your back in just a few seconds, pressing comforting circles into the middle of your torso. You think you can’t really blame Sunwoo for making fun of you today– you surely must look like absolute shit.

“Did you two go to the same party?” Sunwoo chuckles, pointing out the obvious difference in your composures. “How come do you not look dead?” he addresses the question to Izzy, curious.

“I can handle my alcohol well,” she hums.

“That’s a lie,” you grunt, eyes still glued to the wooden table, “she just didn’t drink much last night.”

“I think that’s a part of handling my alcohol well–”

“No it’s not,” you squint at her, shaking your head. “Abstinence is not ‘handling alcohol’, you moron.”

“Okay, well, I’m just saying that’s the reason why you look like you have some sort of disease, while I look fresh and beautiful,” she sings in half-seriousness, half-irony, going as far as posing like a flower, offering the whole table her bright smile.

“I mean, you always do,” a low voice echoes around the restaurant, making you snap your head up to gaze at the boy opposite of you that is now refusing to meet anyone’s eye. Eric’s hand freezes on your back, stilling, as a chuckle leaves his throat at his friend’s comment.

Interesting. Sunwoo’s usually cocky demeanor changes as he blushes, scratching the back of his neck. The air gets a little tense as you allow yourself to look your roommate in the eye, a hint of surprise playing with her face. She looks taken aback, but pleased with herself– and you have to give her that. Her magic is finally working.

“So, anyways…” Eric breaks the awkward silence, arm slipping off your back and resting on the table. The absence of the soothing circles on your clothed skin makes you miss it only a little bit, but you won’t really dwell on that any longer or mention it out loud. 

The food comes just in time to diffuse the weird atmosphere, making all of you thank the waiter for the meal and get to eating. You can’t say ramen is your favorite meal on the planet, but you must admit that the way they prepared it here really gets your taste buds on Cloud 9. You’re enjoying every bit of it, salvaging the salty taste and chewing on the noodles, looking like a person that’s been starved for five days with the way you’re just inhaling the food like it’s oxygen.

“Feels nice to finally eat somewhere else than at work,” Sunwoo grunts in pleasure, throwing his head back and letting his eyes close, fully enjoying the moment. 

Eric nods in agreement, having you furrow your brows at them. “You must work a lot.”

“Yeah,” the boy next to you nods, “I do it to help my dad, but the more I work, the more miserable and absolutely boring it gets.”

“I would imagine it to be kind of fun, I dunno,” you hum sheepishly, noticing the boys eyeing you with a deadpan expression on their faces.

“I mean, everything’s better than a corporate job, in my opinion,” Eric throws a jab at you, a smirk playing with his lips. He’s not wrong.

“Don’t even remind me…”

“Still no progress on that thing?” he asks, genuine interest lacing his tone.

Shaking your head, you sigh. “I mean, I did a bit of market research, but nothing to show my boss, that’s for sure. It’s just been rotting my brain for weeks and I feel like I’m frozen with stress that I can’t actually pick it up, y’know?”

Eric nods in acknowledgement, swallowing the last bits of food in his mouth. “Maybe you just need to think about it less.”

“Yeah,” Izzy joins, “take off some steam. Maybe you just need a little break from it.”

“But if I take a break from it, I might never actually start it–”

“That’s ridiculous,” she cuts you off. “You know you work well under pressure.” You sigh at her comment, shaking your head in disapproval. Procrastination isn’t really your favorite thing under the sun, but it’s something you can’t really control during most projects you pick up.  “What do we say we all hang out together when you’re free? To chill, do something fun, get your heads off work…?” 

You look around the table with questioning eyes. You’re not really sure if you crawled across the bridge to the friendship side yet, or if Izzy’s efforts are what is going to do just that. Not really knowing where you stand with the boys– because they did invite you to lunch, but you also hadn’t spoken in a long time before that– you don’t push them for an answer. You’re going to go along with whatever they choose.

“I’m down,” Sunwoo nods, “I bet that if we tell Lisa in advance, she can do the deliveries. There’s a new Deadpool movie coming out next week, wanna go see that?”

You’re not really a fan of Marvel movies nor have you seen the first two parts of the series. The same could be said about Izzy, but she grasps at the invitation like a thirsty woman seeing water after 20 days spent on a desert, nodding eagerly at Sunwoo. It’s almost laughable how easily she agrees to everything the boy has to say. 

You guess you can’t really blame her, though– he is giving her subtle signs of reciprocation with today’s compliment, isn’t he?

You think about it for a while. Looking to your right, facing Eric, you lock eyes with him, as he was already gazing at you and expecting your answer. The boy shrugs at the eye contact, seemingly down to the offer. 

You guess seeing a movie with them isn’t such a bad idea, right?

“Yeah, okay,” you say, “what day is that?”

Foolish. That’s what you are.

Foolish for thinking you could get everything done in time and actually enjoy your time with your friends. Foolish for thinking you could have a day off when you don’t have to think of all the responsibilities that adult life is throwing at you– because as you realize exactly one day before you’re supposed to see the new Deadpool movie in the cinema with Izzy, Sunwoo and Eric, after a discussion with your boss about how he needs some spreadsheets done before the next day, you realize don’t have enough time in your schedule for both.

Frustration, anger and also a bit of sadness fills your bones as you announce to your friends– in person to Izzy and over a text to Eric– that you probably won’t make it. The boy tells you that if you do end up being able to come after all, you should, which makes you only feel worse at the realization that you are now missing out on what could’ve been a chill afternoon.

The frustration only grows in you when you decide to do your work in the library the next day, not even walking back to your apartment after class– because you realize you not only don’t enjoy any minute of your internship, but you also feel like a failure after not being able to finish any simple task with no bigger issues.

After sending one last message to your friends about how you’re stuck in the library for the time being, you try to drown yourself in work– while simultaneously trying to ignore the clock in the corner of your screen telling you the exact minutes you’ve spent missing out on the plans.

You don’t really know how much time passes before a hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump violently in your seat. Your heart starts beating a thousand miles an hour as you turn your head to make out who is the cause of your heart attack, preparing yourself for the screaming match you’re very well mentally ready for.

Up until… you notice who’s standing behind you, offering you a gentle smile.

“Sorry. Did I scare you?” he asks, laughing softly at your shaken composure.

“I almost died, dude!” you scold him, shaking your head at the boy. Something inside of you lights up at the idea of a distraction from your workload, your heart squeezing on itself when you scan your visitor over– from the bottom of his feet cladded in simple Nike pandas to the top of his head covered not only by a beanie, but also the hood of his gray sweater.

“Sorry,” he once again apologizes, eyes glimmering in amusement.

“What are you even doing here?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion and checking the time on your laptop. “The movie starts in a few minutes!”

Out of all the people on the whole entire planet, Eric Sohn is the last person you’d expect to appear in the library exactly at this moment. The sheer presence of him right in front of you makes you blink a few times in hopes of figuring out if his existence is not a fata morgana, watching as the boy only shrugs at you in nonchalance.

“Ah, that…” he hums. “I actually brought you a treat, since you said you will be stuck in the library the whole day,” he says, offering you a bag containing something sweet-smelling.

Once you take a better look at what he’s holding in front of you, your stomach churns and your tastebuds yearn for the sugary dough he must have gotten in the bakery at the corner of the campus on his way here– pink glazing and colorful sprinkles, almost bringing tears into your eyes in appreciation. “What? Why?” you ask. “You didn’t have to…”

“I figured there was no use going to the cinema if you’re not going,” he explains– his words making a nervous little bug fly around your stomach. “Since I’m sure Sunwoo and Izzy wanted to go alone anyways, I didn’t wanna be a third-wheel.” 

Oh. Right. You forgot about that part.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them alone together, to be honest,” you say, making Eric chuckle at your comment.

“This might either be the best, or the worst thing on the whole entire planet.”

“Agreed,” you nod.

Eric sends you a prolonged look in which you realize you haven’t accepted his offering yet, making you reach for the bag containing the donut and placing it onto the table, right next to your laptop. “But really, thank you,” you nod, “you didn’t have to. I’m sure you have other things you could be doing…”

“I wanted to make your stay in the library more pleasant,” Eric says, shrugging. His figure is still towering over you– as he’s standing and you’re sitting down– something about the fact making you wish he would take a seat next to you and maybe even stay for a minute. “I imagine it’s gonna be a long day for you…”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “All thanks to my stupid internship and my stupid boss and this stupid assignment…” you ramble, watching as Eric’s lips turn into a soft smile. What he’s smiling at, you’re not really sure– the topic of the conversation is already miserable enough for you without actually doing any of the things you’re complaining about– but you drop it as the boy crouches next to you, putting his arm around your chair.

“What do you need to do?” he asks, interested.

“I just need to finish this spreadsheet,” you hum, “which isn’t that hard, it’s just a lot of tedious work that no one wants to do, so of course it falls on the intern.”

“That’s the beauty of an internship,” Eric jokes.

“Do you even intern?”

“No,” he laughs, shaking his head. “But I’d like to see what it’s like. Want help with that? I can read the numbers out for you so you don’t get lost in all those rows and columns,” he suggests, pointing to the amount of reports waiting at your desk, waiting to be digitized.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you sheepishly say, although touched with the offer. He’s probably only saying it to be nice– but that’s still enough for appreciation to grow in your chest. “You don’t have to stay and do boring things with me just because we were supposed to hang out today. Actually, you should hurry so you can get to the cinema on time–”

In your peripheral vision, you watch as the boy stands up from his crouched position only to pull out a chair from one of the empty seats, placing it next to yours so he has a view of your laptop. Before you get a chance to protest any longer, he’s sat in the seat with one of his legs popped up and resting on the bottom construction of your chair, hands reaching for the papers that you could physically drown in sprawled all over your desk. 

“Don’t be silly. I’d rather do anything else than to watch Sunwoo embarrassingly try to flirt with your friend,” he chuckles. “So, which numbers do you need?”

“Eric, really–”

“These ones?” he persists, not even giving you a chance to protest any longer. 

Eyes meeting– his big and honest, a warm pool of honey– yours a little tired, but still filled with tender appreciation, he waits for you to answer and explain how he can help you. He patiently awaits your instructions, wanting to make your life a bit easier– and something about that makes your heart leap in your chest.

You guess you’d say you and Eric are friends now. Yeah, you definitely are.

“Look, the sooner you’re done, the sooner you can get out of here and get another donut with me on your way home. Because trust me, I thought I could resist, but the more I look at the one I brought you, the more I kinda want one for myself…”

Laughing, you shake your head at his boyish antics. He looks so casual right now– like someone cut out of your everyday life, like someone you’ve known for years and are destined to know forever. 

You show him which row he should read out loud for you. You share the donut with him. It takes a bit longer than you expected and the donut place is closed when he walks with you home, but he assures you it’s okay– you can get one another time.

“Five iced americanos, two lattes, one iced tea– do you want anything?” Jihoon turns to you with raised eyebrows, getting a look of your sulking face.

“No,” you bite back, anger getting the worst out of you. 

“Okay, so we’ll also add another americano and a flat white, please,” your coworker slash friend turns back towards the barista, smiling at him and paying with the corporate card.

After the two of you move into the line waiting for drinks, you continue on with your little tangent. 

“So they think they can make me do all the dirty work, leave me with no time to do anything and announce tasks at the last second, only to be bitchy and don’t even say thank you when I do everything they tell me to?” you snap, scowling at Jihoon. “And then they decide that oh, maybe I’m not good enough to do all those fucking spreadsheets for them, so I am demoted to a coffee runner?!” you yell out, having the heads of the rest of the customers turn to you with annoyed and concerned looks on their faces.

“Okay, so we are going to calm down–” 

“I don’t wanna calm down!”

Jihoon laughs at your little outburst– which only makes you more frustrated– before he puts a finger against your lips to silent you, an amused expression taking over his face. “Don’t scream when we are inside, at least.”

After his finger leaves your lips, you are left staring at him with a sharp look– like a child that is mad because it didn’t get a new toy it liked in the store. You acknowledge that you might be acting a bit overly-dramatic at the moment, but you also still think your feelings and thoughts are justified. 

You hate the corporate lifestyle. You despise how you have to be a stuck-up to climb it, and how hard work never truly gets you anywhere if you don’t have connections.

Which is why Liu Yangyang is currently helping your boss with all major tasks, getting the experience he truly needs for his degree, while you and Jihoon were sent to get coffee for the whole office. Amazing, isn’t it? The way you can feel so looked down upon, even though you’re aware this is the place you’re supposed to be in, this is how you’re supposed to be treated.

You’re just an intern, nothing else. But sometimes, the uneven weight of responsibilities you get at work makes you stressed and nervous that one day, you’ll have too much on your shoulders to bear while all the other time, you aren’t even worthy of a normal task.

“I hope each and every one of them burns their tongue on that fucking coffee,” you grunt, making Jihoon only laugh harder.

“At least half of them ordered iced americanos, babe.”

A sigh escapes your throat at that. “Okay, so I hope they all spill the drink onto them,” you refute, making Jihoon grin.

“You’re so petty,” he points out as he stands close to you, suddenly deciding to use you as his own personal armrest. “Besides, I think you should appreciate that you don’t have to do a lot today, don’t you think? It’s nice to get a breather. I know I wouldn’t wanna be in Yangyang’s shoes right now.”

“I guess so,” you sigh, looking up to meet the tall boy’s eyes. “But it makes me feel like they don’t think we’re good enough for anything else.”

“And if that’s my crime, then so be it,” he playfully shrugs. “At least I’ll have the experience on my CV and I can graduate.”

“I’d love to have your mindset,” you muse.

“It’s quite easy, actually,” he nods. “You should get it into that pretty brain of yours,” he says as one of his fingers points to the side of your skull, making you scrunch your nose at him and try to avert the contact. 

Jihoon is persistent, though, as he suddenly makes it his quest to ruffle your hair to tease you and make it all disheveled. The two of you get into a play-fight of some sort, consisting of you trying to wrestle the boy off and him trying to make your life a living hell in any way he can, when he abruptly stops and raises his eyebrows at someone behind you, offering them a wave.

“Yo, dude! Hi!” he greets, making you turn your head to see who he is addressing.

There, standing just a few meters in front of you in the line, is Eric Sohn wearing cargo pants and a loose shirt, earphones hanging around the base of his neck. After being greeted by your friend, he moves closer to the two of you, smiling.

“Hi!” he says, paying both of you an up-and-down scan. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Jihoon replies for the both of you, settling to his previous position of resting half his body-weight against your shoulder. You’ve grown used to his nature– playful and friendly, much like an older brother would act– so you don’t really mind the casual touch and teasing from him. “We were sent here to get coffee for the whole building, so we’re just doing that while Y/N here complains about everything–”

“I don’t complain about everything, just the systematic oppression of interns in the workplace–”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jihoon cuts you off, snickering. “What about you?”

Eric watches the two of you bickering with furrowed brows before he clears his throat, shrugging. “On my way to class,” he says, “I’m late already, so I figured a few more minutes while I get my coffee won’t hurt me in the long run.”

“Very responsible of you,” you joke, watching as the boy in front of you laughs, paying you a short look.

“Look, I don’t have any big responsibilities like the two of you do, so…”

“Y/N, on the contrary, doesn’t think getting coffee for the corporate people is enough of a responsibility,” Jihoon chimes in, making Eric’s eyes shift towards the taller boy, sending him a look slightly different to the one he gives you.

“She just doesn’t really know how to chill out,” Eric nods. 

“Hello?” you snicker. “I’m literally right here.”

The shorter one looks at you with glimmering eyes, shrugging. “It’s something you have to hear,” he notes. “Truth hurts, but it’s better than lying to yourself.”

Just after that, an order is called that makes Eric’s attention perk up, turning around to the barista. “I think that’s me,” he says, taking a step back towards the counter to retrieve his coffee. “I better get going, but it was nice seeing you two,” he nods.

“Us two…” Jihoon whispers next to you, making you look at him with furrowed brows, confused.

“It was nice seeing you too!” you nod instead, smiling.

“I’ll see you around!” Eric says. Before he completely disappears to the top of the line and out of the coffee shop, he turns to you one more time. “Oh and Y/N, we should hang out again sometime… Text me?”

“Oh, sure,” you agree, your stomach fueled with a strange kind of sensation at his words. You know you should’ve had breakfast in the morning– surely it’s just you being hungry. “I’ll- I’ll text you.”

Only after Jihoon waves at him, finally ridding you off the burden of being his personal armrest, do you realize how hot you feel in your cheeks and how you’ve spent the last couple of seconds carefully, intensively watching Eric get his coffee and step out of the building. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, the atmosphere suddenly too quiet to the one there was between the two of you before Eric Sohn arrived, you feel Jihoon elbow you in your side.

“So,” he starts, already hinting that this is going to be a difficult conversation, “what’s up with you and Sohn?”

“Hm?” you snap your head around to face him, almost breaking your neck with the force. “What do you mean, what’s up with me and Eric? There’s nothing up between the two of us.”

“Sure… and he wasn’t staring at me like he wanted to personally kill me with his own two hands just now, correct?” he teases, making you stop in your tracks.

Was Eric looking at him like that? You didn’t even notice.

“Correct,” you agree. “I don’t really think he was…”

“And my name is not Jihoon–”

“Stop being so difficult to talk to all the time, dear god–”

“Okay, miss ‘I find Eric Sohn to be the hottest one in the world’–”

“When have I ever said that?!” you call out again, suddenly feeling a little too hot in your cheeks, ears, and the back of your neck. What’s up with this visceral reaction? You swear you were nonchalant about these things!

“Oh, sorry, let me correct myself. It was the hottest one in the room, actually, but I think that speaks for itself, since Lee Heeseung himself was present–”

“Are you jealous, or something?” you choose to counter attack, leaving Jihoon to laugh at you in amusement.

“As if,” he shakes his head at you. “I just think it’s cute how whenever I see you two interact, he acts like a lost puppy following you and you’re too oblivious to do anything about it.”

“No, he doesn’t,” you furrow your brows at him, the words not even fully registering in your brain. What does he even mean by all of this? You and Eric are friends– that’s all there is to it.

“Sure… stay being like that and end up a bitchless loser forever, then,” he shrugs. You’d react more to his pointless arguments– because let’s be real, he is just making all of this up to stir some drama– but your awfully long order is called right in the moment you open your mouth to come up with a clever comeback, and so you choose to drop the topic, because it’s quite meaningless in your eyes anyway.

Walking back with two cup holders in your hands, fulfilling your one and only task of the day, you turn to Jihoon with a teasing grin. “Wait, did you just call Lee Heeseung sexy?”

“It was purely objective–”

“I really hate this, y’know?” you mutter as you stand in front of the gates of the amusement park, your cheerful roommate standing by your side bouncing on her feet as she waits in excitement.

“Shut up,” she says, a smile never leaving her face despite your gloomy expression, “don’t ruin this for me.”

“Well, it’s either you or me that is going to have their day ruined, and I think that judging by the fact that I’m already here, we know which one is going to turn true,” you say as you aimlessly look around, watching people going in and out of the premises of the park, some with goofy headbands on, some holding balloons– all of them sickly in love.

“It’s not like I invited you to a funeral, y’know,” Izzy grunts, “you could just act happy for me. It wouldn’t hurt you, y’know–”

“I would act happy for you if you didn’t feel the need to drag me to your dates with you–”

“Stop being such a party popper, dude. You’re going to have fun if you just allow yourself to,” she rolls her eyes at you. Yeah, she might be right about some parts of her argument– you got free tickets to the amusement park, which you love, just for the record– and you also have a day off from your internship and classes, which makes any day basically the best day on earth for you, but there is one thing about this whole situation that is making you doubt it just the tiniest bit.

That being the fact that you’re tagging along to a date. And you’re not alone in it– which automatically makes this whole thing seem a little too similar to a double date.

“I just don’t want him to think I see this as a–”

Your argument is quickly shut off as your roommate physically squeals into your ear before running off, feet automatically taking her to her sweetheart. Sunwoo is quick to catch her in his arms when she jumps into his hold, excited to see him despite hanging out with him two days ago, and you’re left walking slowly to the two approaching figures alone.

The moment you see Eric Sohn wearing tan cargo pants and a red windbreaker over his figure, your throat goes dry. His eyes light up a bit when they land on you, which makes the reality of not being able to run away anymore settle deep inside of your bones, and suddenly, you feel strangely nervous in his vicinity. 

This hasn’t happened to you yet around him– if you don’t count all the moments where you embarrassed yourself in front of him, feeling painfully awkward. However, the fact that this whole situation is too similar to a double date is making you feel slightly weak in your knees simply because of the fact that you don’t want Eric to think you want this to be a double date. You only went because Izzy promised to wash the dishes for you for two weeks if you did, and that’s an offer nobody should turn down, you think.

The idea of Eric Sohn thinking you want to go on a double date with him makes you feel agonizingly embarrassed. You two are just friends– nothing more, nothing less– and you wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea. You would never think of yourself as someone Eric would invite over for a date in the first place anyway– you don’t want him to have a feeling that you suddenly have high thoughts about yourself.

“Y/N! Hi!” Your thoughts are quickly cut off when you hear the boy himself greet you cheerfully, walking up to you to envelope you in a short hug. 

His arms sneak around you only for a moment, but you feel yourself automatically reciprocating the gesture before it even has a chance to register in your brain. You don’t really know when the two of you passed to the level of friendship where you greet each other with a hug– maybe the few text messages you shared since you last saw him in the coffee shop might have done the work– but you try to not question it when he pulls away, leaving you awkwardly standing around and watching Sunwoo and your roommate gaze romantically into each other’s eyes.

“Today’s gonna be tough,” Eric notes.

Chuckling at his words, knowing he’s referring to the honeymoon stage your friends have somehow ended up in– because you still can’t believe Izzy managed to date the boy after her embarrassing attempts– you just shake your head and move towards the entrance of the amusement park, not really wanting to pay any more attention to the couple than you have to.

“It is,” you agree, “I wouldn’t have agreed to go for this exact reason, but the idea of rides persuaded me,” you hum.

“I only went because this was the only way I could get a day off at work,” Eric mutters, “my stupid sister insisted I come with Sunwoo or else she wouldn’t cover my shift.”

“That’s strange,” you chuckle, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Why would she care?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “said something about ‘enjoying my youth’, or something,” he grins. “I don’t really even like amusement parks, if I’m being honest.”

“You don’t?” you gasp, shaking your head at the boy. “Damn. I would think you’re an adrenaline junkie, if I’m being honest.”

“I am!” he agrees, nodding. “The other day, though, I saw a Tiktok about a ride breaking down somewhere in Japan, and that was the same day Sunwoo invited me here, so I think it might’ve been a sign from the universe to not go on any of these rides, or else I will die.”

Laughing at his words, shaking your head, you lightly slap his arm at the comment. “Don’t say that,” you tell him, “you’re just being a scaredy cat, admit it.”

“No…” he suspiciously shakes his head, very obviously lying.

“Yeah, right…” you snicker. “I mean, it’s okay, dude. I won’t laugh.”

“You’re already laughing, though?” Eric points out, an accusing finger in your face. His actions make you burst into even bigger giggles, eyes meeting his. When your gaze lands onto his face– the upper half shielded by the shade casted off his cap, yet still having his eyes crinkled up and cheeks full as he grins at you wide and warm in the sunlight– your stomach does that weird thing again, completely ruining the moment.

Clearing your throat, trying to keep your composure, you turn your head to search for Izzy and Sunwoo. The moment you catch them in makes your eyes go big and a grunt leave your throat involuntarily– the PDA making you even sicker to your stomach. While Sunwoo is standing in front of your roommate, his arms securely around her middle, she is gazing up into his eyes with a pout decorating her lips. The boy holds her cheeks in his hands for a brief moment before he leans in and gives her a short kiss that makes the girl stand up on her tippy toes, chasing for another one.

“Oh wow,” you let out, making Eric sigh next to you at the sight.

“Now that’s…”

“Yeah,” you nod while you turn back forward, trying your hardest to not look at the two of them any longer than you physically have to. “I knew they would be like that if they started dating. It’s like my worst nightmares came true.”

“Sunwoo can’t stop talking about her either. I’m starting to think I will know more about your roommate than you do, at this rate.”

“You might,” you agree, laughing to yourself. “With how many nights she’s spent at his place, I’m starting to think she’s going to move out soon.”

“Well, that’s only good for you then, no?” 

“Yeah,” you agree, joking. “The only reason why I still keep her around is to pay half the rent, if I’m being honest,” you chuckle, having the boy shake his head at your playful antics.

The two of you move forwards slowly while looking around the place, trying to see what you should do. The sun is strangely aggressive today, making it hard for you to see as you squint in the brightness– since the amusement park doesn’t really provide you with much shade– only making you a bit more frustrated with your choice of plans today.

“Should we get some drinks first?” Eric asks, pointing towards a stand that sells coffee, milkshakes and other beverages.

The line is long, but you don’t really see a reason not to wait. You have the whole day in front of you, after all, and since it seems to you that Sunwoo and Izzy have taken it upon themselves to ignore you two completely, acting like this was their own date, you choose to stick to whatever Eric wants to do. 

As you move to stand next to him– while also moving out of someone’s way– the back of your hand comes in contact with the boy’s next to you, having a slight wave of electricity run through your spine as you clear your throat and move away from him, wishing he didn’t notice. You take it upon yourself to look around to see what your next choice of plan should be.

After ignoring many couples walking around– since it seems that you chose a day when no other visitors were around, just teenagers holding hands and kissing in front of the rides (much like your friends are doing right now)– you opt to point your eyes at the horizon, looking at the tall constructions and rides. You have to shield your eyes from the sun with your hand to really see them, but the sight of them excites you a bit, so you guess it’s worth it. Squinting at the Pirate ride or the big rollercoaster twisting and turning like a caterpillar in the distance, you make a mental note of all the attractions you want to visit today.

Slowly moving to the top of the line to get coffee with Eric, you continue gazing behind him, blissfully unaware that he’s been watching you the whole time, noticing your little struggle. 

“After we get the coffee, I wanna go on that roller coaster there,” you hum, “and I’m bringing you with me, because Sunwoo and Izzy–”

Your words get caught in your throat as the man suddenly moves the hand you’ve been resting against your eyebrows to shield your eyes from the sunlight down, replacing it by taking his cap off and making you wear it. Your heart jumps at the action, eyes finally relaxing now that they’re in shade, making you gulp and stare at Eric.

“You don’t have to–”

“I have my sunglasses with me, so it’s fine,” he says, tugging the peak further down your head in a teasing way, a smile adorning his face.

You forgot what you were even saying in the first place– the idea of Eric’s hat on your head making your brain overheat a little with the added fabric on top of your hair. It’s the same cap you see on him often– his favorite one, you think– and your stupid, silly brian is starting to make connotations around the action that you’re sure are not correct.

You can’t say you’re not happy about wearing it, though. It does help your eyes.

“You were saying?” he asks, making you look back at him with big eyes, trying to think of what you were talking about before.

“Oh,” you hum, while also simultaneously reaching to fix his hair– since he hasn’t bothered to after taking off his hat for you– not even thinking about your actions as you run your fingers through the honey strands, “I was just saying you’re gonna have to go on some rides with me, because the lovebirds are ignoring us and I am not going alone,” you repeat.

When you’re done moving the blonde locks to their supposed place, eyes drifting back to Eric’s– now big and watching your every move, making you falter a little under his gaze and heat creep onto your cheeks– it’s his turn to clear his throat, shrugging.

“You’ll have to hold my hand when I get scared, though,” he says. The casualty of his tone shocks you, having you watch as the boy averts his gaze from you and presses his lips together into a thin line, not even paying a second thought to the implications of his words.

You pay them a second thought, though.

You keep repeating the words in your brain over and over, fingertips buzzing at the preposition, hands sweating at the mental image. Do you mind the thought of it?

Well, no. You don’t.

Not a big deal, after all…

“What did you want again? Flat white?” he asks, completely ignoring the previous conversation. You didn’t even realize you got to the top of the line, too deep in your thoughts, and before you have a chance to take out your wallet to pay for your drink (or maybe even Eric’s, since he paid the last time), he is holding the cup up to you already.

As you take it from him, your fingers touch again. It makes a warm pool of honey glisten in the pit of your stomach, foolishness creeping up your bones.

The boy takes it upon himself to shock you even further as he swings an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close to him. “Let’s go back to the lovebirds before they forget about our existence completely.”

You choose to ignore the fact that you forgot about their existence yourself.

When you get on the ride a few minutes later, Eric holds onto your hand. Your heart beats a thousand miles an hour, but you will write it off to the adrenaline– you do, however, foolishly wish he was scared more often. 

Turns out having Park Jihoon as your coworker isn’t as bad as it seems. Sure, he is good at making the atmosphere lighter in the office and also amazing at gossip in the workplace, but he is also surprisingly very good at his job– and with the date of your presentation fastly approaching, you had to get all the help you needed. 

Which is why you made the boy sit with you in the park as you went over it again and again, showing him your laptop and rehearsing your speech, taking notes of every little thing Jihoon said you should fix or add into the whole thing. You genuinely appreciate what he’s doing for you, which is why you also remind yourself to get him something after the internship is done– but after at least two hours of working on your laptop with him, he gets tired and his attention span seems to get shorter and shorter– and you don’t really blame him. 

Actually, you welcome the distractions he offers with open hands. Even more so, you add on to them and fuel them with more conversation, the laptop opened on your thighs long forgotten as you search through your gallery and show the phone screen to your friend, talking about the cute pillows you found at the store last week.

“See? They’re like… sea foam green, but Izzy says they wouldn’t go with our couch,” you hum, furrowing your brows at him, trying to see a different opinion on your newest choice of furniture for the already overcrowded flat.

“What color is your couch again?” he asks as you keep swiping, showing him all the angles of the pillows.

“Brown.”

“Oh, hell no,” Jihoon shakes his head, “that’s a Perry the platypus type of combo, I’m with Izzy on this one– oop, that doesn’t look like the pillows anymore–”

Swiftly turning the phone towards you again, worried of what picture you accidentally revealed to him (while you don’t have any nudes on your phone, you’re sure any selfie would be just as much embarrassing), you’re left with heat rising to your cheeks and shame drowning your system. 

“Well, anyways, so the pillows–”

“We’re not talking about the pillows anymore, girl–”

“We are–”

“No,” he keeps interrupting you, making you grunt and sigh as you rest your head against the trunk of the tree behind you, banging it against it in frustration.

“Shut up,” you mutter. The thing is, you know you won’t escape the teasing now– because Park Jihoon watching you swipe through your gallery to a high-angle selfie of Eric Sohn in his work uniform, pouting, is surely a very incriminating image. “We text on Whatsapp and he sent the pic, so it automatically saved–”

“And you just never deleted it, naturally,” Jihoon hums with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“I forgot–”

“You just didn’t want to–”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” you sigh again, locking your phone and throwing it into the grass. 

You and Eric have grown close since the day you spent together in the amusement park. So much to the point where you get lunch together sometimes and he sends you selfies when he’s bored at work, it seems. You don’t mind the subtle shift– hell, you welcome it with open arms– you just wish Park Jihoon (and Izzy, at this point) would stop teasing you about something that was not even vaguely true.

There is nothing going on between you and Eric Sohn.

And nothing ever will be– not a chance.

“I think the denial is being a little embarrassing now,” Jihoon chirps, making you swat his shoulder. You are not in denial– there is nothing to deny.

“You are being a little embarrassing.”

“You know I’m right,” Jihoon shrugs, grinning. Does he not have enough drama in his own life to stick his nose into yours? Not that there is any drama between you and Eric– but you bet Park Jihoon would love to create some.

“You’re never right.”

“Sure,” Jihoon hums. “I’ll mention this on your wedding speech–”

“I’ll kill you before I get married,” you grunt.

“But you didn’t deny the identity of the groom–”

Launching at the boy again, a threatening fist almost landing to his cheek, you watch as he wrestles you away with a loud laugh resonating through the space. Something about how lightly he takes the situation makes your stomach churn in an unknown emotion– you really don’t see why everyone thinks there should be something going on between you and your childhood friend.

“Look, all I’m saying is that if you want this to be a thing, maybe you should finally make a move, since the guy seems to be dull as fuck–”

Interrupting, never letting him finish a sentence when it comes to this topic, you try to finally prove your point. “I don’t want this to be a thing. I don’t even know what you’re talking–”

“I should go before I’m killed,” Jihoon suddenly hurries out, making you furrow your brows at him.

“What?”

“See you on Monday!” the tall male waves, scattering to his feet. He doesn’t give you much explanation as he runs off to the other side of the campus, making you watch him with confused eyes. Where has he gone so quickly? He doesn’t want to be killed? 

By whom? Should you be afraid? Should you run as well?

Somebody clears his throat next to you, making you jump as you turn your head to see who is disrupting your peace. The moment your eyes meet the intruder, Jihoon’s comment finally settles in– god, you’ll kill him when you see him again.

“Eric! What are you doing here?” you ask, watching as the boy shrugs, taking a seat next to you on the grass.

“Just got off work,” he says, “and you said you’ll be here, so I thought I’d come and say hi,” he hums, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.

The sentiment makes you mentally coo– the emotion going as far as reaching your face in a form of a gentle pout– as you dwell deeper over his words. You didn’t think that complaining about how you have to do work would make Eric think of visiting you after finishing his own, but something about it makes you all warm from the inside.

“You didn’t have to,” you hum. “You seem tired.”

A gentle smile is sent your way, so illuminizing it makes you look away. “I know, but I wanted to,” he says, “I also brought you leftovers, if you want some. It’s almost dinner time.”

An involuntary gasp leaves your throat as you watch the male take out an aluminum wrap from his backpack and offer it to you alongside his bright grin. You waste no time in taking the pizza slices into your hand and carefully unwrapping them, allured by the smell.

“Why did Jihoon run so fast, by the way?” Eric asks, laughing.

“Oh, he said he was late for something…” you hum. (You’re not even convinced of your own excuse. You don’t know how Eric doesn’t see right through your lies.)

“Ah,” the boy nods in acknowledgement, scooping closer to you so his back is now resting against the tree, his eyes gluing themselves onto your laptop screen. His piney smell fills your nose, making your stomach feel like it’s on water, before his soft, tired voice lands into your ear. “Did you make a lot of progress?”

“Mhm,” you nod, clicking through the slides and showing him. The boy makes an acknowledging sound after each new information you tell him– something that makes you find him immensely endearing– as you simultaneously reach for the pizza and mindlessly offer the slice you’ve already bitten into to him, watching as his straight teeth chew down into the dough, sharing one piece with you.

“Are you done for the day? I’ll walk you home,” he says, tiredness completely seeping through his tone now. You can tell he needs sleep– which makes you feel slightly bad about making him take a detour just to meet you.

“Almost,” you hum apologetically, closing your laptop. “I just need to read a few more articles Jihoon recommended for me and then I should be done,” you say, reaching for your iPad as you put your computer away into your bag. 

“Okay,” he nods.

“You can go home, Eric,” you say, “you don’t have to stay for me.”

“No, it’s fine,” he shakes his head, smiling at you. 

Watching him, eyes meeting for a heartbeat, you see that he won’t budge no matter how harshly you’d tell him to go– so you figure that quickly getting through the articles and going home is your safest bet in this situation. Tapping on the screen and finding the email Jihoon forwarded to you, you open the first link in the message, subconsciously registering as the boy next to you gets comfortable sitting in the grass with you.

You only get through half of the (lengthy) article before you see Eric’s head lolling forwards, sleep taking over him. The motion wakes him, but not for long as he just can’t keep his eyes open anymore– the combination of a long shift, classes in the morning and finishing up his assignments late in the night getting the worst out of him and making you feel immensely bad for the boy. Not focused on the words in the article anymore, you watch as your friend scooches further down in the grass, acting on instinct as his head suddenly rests against your shoulder, soft hair tickling the side of your neck. 

Heart leaping in your chest and whole body freezing– begging the universe to not make the boy wake up from his half-asleep state right now– you try your hardest to pay attention to the business tactics described in the article you’ve been reading for the last couple of minutes. It seems to be the hardest task you’ve ever set your mind on, though, as you notice the screen of your tablet getting dark, mirroring Eric’s relaxed face.

His neck is craned and his eyes are closed shut, making you turn your head to watch the sight first-hand, mentally counting all the eyelashes kissing his cheekbones and his puffed-out lips. Something about his pose doesn’t seem the tiniest bit comfortable, though– although it makes a strange wave of satisfaction run through your veins– and so, like any other decent person, you gently cradle your fingers through his hair, waking him up.

“Hmm?” 

“Your neck is gonna be sore,” you quietly say as you put your arm around his shoulder, “just lay down, yeah?” you say, doing your best at adjusting his position.

The male lets you navigate him with half-lidded eyes as you make him scooch even further down into the grass before you pull his upper body towards your lower half, essentially making the boy lay his head into your lap. Eric looks up at you from his new position for just a few seconds, eye contact reminding you of a small, shy puppy you just brought home from the road, making you smile softly and treat him as one when you instinctively reach out and pet his head, running your fingers through his soft strands and gently scratching his scalp.

After a few seconds, the male closes his eyes again, seemingly drifting off into the dreamland. Your actions soothe him and simultaneously bring you into some sort of trance you can’t bring yourself out of– eyes glued to his face, studying it.

The angle of his nose and the slope of his upper lip is much more enjoyable to study and memorize than the sales statistics of your job’s concurrency. You find his long eyelashes to be nothing far from angelic, his light hair like a crown of gold under your touch. Everything about him is soft and gentle in this state– with the golden hour shining down onto his features, making his skin glisten like honey– the view so pretty you’d like to take a picture to remember it forever.

Your head spins and your stomach does that weird thing again. This is not the first time you are acknowledging Eric’s attractiveness– just the first time you are appreciating his beauty, his prettiness to the point where you are enchanted by it, not able to tear your attention away. You can’t deny the fact that it affects you anymore.

You can’t deny the fact you feel around him lately. It makes you feel strange and embarrassed, but not to the point where you’d want to keep away from him.

Your iPad is thrown next to you on the grass, forgotten and abandoned. You’re jealous of the sun– for it’s able to kiss his cheeks without fear, without judgment– the boy turning into a putty under your touch, subconsciously leaning into it when you drag his light bangs away from his forehead. 

You admit the fact that you stopped working on your project the moment he arrived, not able to put your attention elsewhere than to his presence. You’re also aware he’d sleep better and more comfortably in his own bed, but for some reason, you selfishly want to keep him there– looking like a painting, something akin to a poem you wish you wrote.

Just for the moment, you let the reality down on you– that maybe Park Jihoon was right and there is no use denying the obvious anymore. Just for the moment, you let the feeling consume you, eat you alive. For now, though, the boy in your lap is all yours to admire. Blissfully unaware and painfully beautiful, soft and gentle all around.

The feeling inside of you is too raw, too real and so much different to anything you’ve ever known before.

When you’re satisfied with the dose of skinship, you wake the boy up and let him walk you home. You pretend for a moment the feeling is reciprocated and not left scared and lonely out in the open as Eric helps you carry your stuff for you and pulls you into a bear hug in front of your doorstep. You don’t tell him that you had the scariest realization while he was soundly asleep in your arms– it’s too scary and too real and you’re not ready to get your heart broken just yet. 

You pretend everything’s like before. Normal. 

You convince yourself that it will pass.

Once you enter the place, you’re instantly surrounded by the sound of people talking amongst each other, forks and glasses being put down, resonating through the whole place, the phone ringing somewhere in the distance, and a cold shot of liquid coming in contact with your stomach, making you gasp out in surprise.

“Oh shit!” Sunwoo grunts as he registers the mess he just caused, looking up at you with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry!”

Noticing the rush everywhere in the pizzeria and the amount of customers he has to take care of, you can’t really blame him for not watching where he’s going. Still, your face slowly morphs into a subtle frown at the realization that there is now a dark stain on your favorite white T-shirt, your outfit for the evening ruined– meaning half of your confidence disappeared just as fast as the Coca-Cola did from the glass Sunwoo has been holding. 

“It’s okay,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It’s nothing–”

“I’ll get you a towel! I’ll be right back,” the boy urgently says as he makes you hold the half-empty glass of the beverage he just spilled all over you, making you shrug and question if you should just drink the rest of it as a price of consolation.

“Dude, this place is packed,” Izzy grunts from next to you, “can’t even blame him for being all over the place, at this point.”

“Yeah,” you absent-mindledly nod, eyes searching in the crowd to find the figure you came here for in the first place. Not that you only want his presence, no– it’s just that Eric was the one who invited you to the festival your university is throwing as a celebration of the end of the semester. Supposedly, he knows the guy that’s playing in the band that’s headlining it, and even though you tried to refute his arguments and invitations with the fact that you have nothing to be celebrating just yet– the final season is surely going to kick your butt and the presentation for your internship is in just two days, which means you should be preparing for it really hard right in this moment, but his pleading voice in your speaker as you talked to him on the phone on your way home from class was strong enough to convince you that maybe you do need some time to wind off before the responsibilities sweep you off your feet again.

Once you find the boy himself walking away from one of the tables in the corner, his eyes find yours– as if knowing you’ve been looking for him, sensing your presence. His face is outstretched into a smile as he practically skips towards you and Izzy, but the grin leaves his features swiftly once he notices the ugly stain on your shirt.

“Damn, what happened?” he asks.

“Sunwoo spilled a drink over me,” you shrug, watching as his coworker rolls his eyes in frustration at the new information. You laugh at his fakely mad expression, shaking your head at him. “It’s fine, he was in a rush.”

“Yeah, we’re kinda behind, so I don’t know if–”

“No, it’s fine!” you hear a female voice call out, making you snap your head towards the direction of the counter behind you, noticing the presence of Lisa, Eric’s older sister. Her face is adorned with a wide grin that gets a teasing hint when her brother sends her a questioning look, making you watch the interaction with interest. “You said you’re leaving at 7, so you’re leaving at 7. I told dad my friends are coming up to help today, so you just go and enjoy your time out!”

“Really?” Eric asks, tone full of disbelief. You think he spends more time at the restaurant than he does in his own bedroom, and suddenly, you’re happy his sister is being so kind towards the poor boy.

“Yeah! You have more important business to take care of anyway, so…” Lisa says, wiggling her eyebrows at Eric. The boy sends her a look full of fear– which might be justified, since you don’t really know what’s going on at the moment– before he clears his throat and turns his attention back towards you.

“Anyways…” he starts, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “You can change into my shirt, if you want…? I have a spare one in the back in a case of emergency, and this surely looks like one, so–”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to–”

“I mean, the stain is pretty noticeable, so I was just–” he says. 

“It’s fine, Eric, I’ll just wash it in the sink, or something.”

“Or you can take my shirt that does not have a stain on it. I swear it doesn’t smell, I only wore it once! I’ll wear the one I forgot in my locker the other day,” he says, looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. Your heart does a flip in your ribcage.

You have to mentally restrain yourself from freaking out over this. He’s just being nice. He’s offering you his shirt because he probably knows that you want to look good– he is offering you his shirt because he knows the stain on yours is bothering you and that it wouldn’t come out as easily in the sink if you don’t wash the shirt properly with laundry detergent that you don’t have on hand right now– and when you weight all the positives and negatives of the offer (which you find far less pros than cons in, just for the record), you realize you don’t really have a reason to decline his offer.

“I mean, if you’re sure…”

The boy only nods, gently takeing you by your forearm as he leads you towards the back. You’ve never been there before and you also don’t really know where Izzy disappeared to, but you stop worrying about those the same moment Eric opens his locker and hands you his black shirt, a tight-lipped smile adorning his features.

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Thanks,” you nod. You wait for the door to close before you quickly drag your sticky T-shirt over your head and discard it off your chest, glad you’re ridded of the nasty feeling of it against your skin, fastly putting on the soft material that Eric draped onto your hold before on your upper body. 

The smell of his cologne instantly hits you in the face stronger than a baseball ever could, making your head spin and your stomach feel like it’s floating in the middle of the sea. Taking a quick look at yourself in the mirror on the wall next to you, you admire the way the garment fits you just well– since the height difference between you and Eric is barely existent. It makes you wonder if you could share wardrobes– the mental image of him in your favorite oversized graphic T-shirts making a foolish smile creep onto your cheeks, one that you forcefully wipe off the second you see it in the mirror. You smooth down the fabric before you tuck one side into the waistband of your jeans, satisfied with your new outfit. 

Giddy, you walk out of the storage room. It takes you a few moments to find your group of friends standing next to the counter, chatting. You notice that Sunwoo has already changed out of his work uniform into his regular clothes– a black band tee and camo cargo pants– one arm around Izzy’s shoulders.

“Ready?” your roommate asks, watching you nod.

“I’ll just go change and then we can go,” Eric says, swiftly turning on his heel and disappearing into the room you just came out of.

Izzy and Sunwoo talk amongst each other before they turn to you, finally deciding to include you in their conversation. “Excited for tonight? Eric said you need to destress,” Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at you, making you shrug.

“I guess,” you hum, “I think I practiced my presentation so many times I could recite it in my sleep now, but it also strangely feels like I don’t know it enough, y’know?” you say, shaking your head. “It’s driving me crazy.”

“I just think you need to take your mind off things, babe,” Izzy chirps, sending you a comforting smile. “You worked hard enough.”

“Well, we will find out soon if it really was enough,” you snicker, making your roommate glare at you with disapproval. Before she has a chance to ridicule you for your self-deprecating thoughts, you choose to change the topic instead, picking one that’s interesting her enough to forget all about your worries. “I heard from Izzy you wanna go bowling?” 

“Yeah!” Sunwoo perks up, excitement swirling in his dark orbs. “I haven’t been in a while, actually. I was thinking us four could go after exams are done? As a celebration?” 

You four. You find the fact that this is your new usual strange, but also welcome. How you fit into the group, your presence always counted on. Somewhere along the way, you fell into the causality of the friend group– and you can’t say you hate it as much as you thought you would. 

“Yeah, I’m down,” you shrug. “I’ve never played, though.”

“Dude, you and Eric go so well together, then. He’s actually shit at it, so I would even go as far as saying you will be better than him after two tries,” Sunwoo laughs. 

You and Eric go so well together– your brain repeats like a mantra. You know he didn’t mean it in that way. You can’t help but wonder– if you’d ask, would he further support his point?

“Speaking of Eric, what’s taking him so long? We’re gonna be late for the concert, at this point,” Izzy hums, checking the time on her phone.

“Should I go tell him to hurry?” you ask, receiving a pair of nods ushering you to go get him.

Taking a few steps towards the staff-only room, not thinking much before you pull the doorknob, you peep inside– regretting it immediately.

You’re met with the image of Eric turning towards the door to see who it is, shirtless. Your eyes can’t help but wander over the angles of his defined arms and stomach, making heat rush into your cheeks faster than you’ve ever felt it before, a broken noise escaping your throat as you pathetically try to both apologize and pretend you didn’t just have a visceral emotion to the sight of his bare body right there, a few meters away from you.

“Shit, sorry, I just–” you say as you turn on your heel, your body moving by itself and on its own accord as your brain flashes a few red exclamation marks right in front of your eyes, “they just– we should hurry, they said,” you mutter out, blanking.

“Coming!” Eric hums, the shuffling of clothes behind you making you believe he is now fully dressed. You won’t test your theory and look over your shoulder, though– you fear the dreams you’d have tonight if you saw him shirtless even for a second longer. You don’t take the initiative to leave the room either, though– feet glued to your spot right behind the door.

You hear the locker slammed shut, the sound of footsteps approaching making you all alert. God, you feel awkward. You feel embarrassingly awkward.

You find comfort in picking at the fabric of his shirt on your body, playing with it in between your fingers. After a moment, you feel his palm come in contact with your shoulder, his arm reaching around your figure as he leads you out of the storage room once again, completely ignoring your flustered state. You’re not sure if he’s uncomfortable or if he truly didn’t mind– but the moment he utters out his next comment, your knees almost buckle, making you breathless at the sight of his cheeks dusted a light pink.

Tugging at the sleeve of his own shirt adorning your body, he admits: “This looks really good on you, by the way.”

When you arrive at the festival, the band isn’t playing yet. You and your friends decide to hang out in the back of the crowd, not really wanting the music to blast straight into your ears from the speakers on the podium, and before you even have a chance to ask Eric who is the friend that’s singing in the band you’re here to see, the male disappears to find the toilets.

Chuckling at the fact that he couldn’t take care of the business before you left the pizzeria, but also suddenly too bored without him (since Izzy and Sunwoo don’t count as proper company when all they pay attention to at this point of their relationship is each other), you decide to get in the line for drinks, announcing your departure to the love birds before you go. You figure you should probably get a drink for Eric too, since he always makes it his quest to pay for yours before you even get a chance to take out your wallet, and you suddenly see his departure as the perfect opportunity to do just that– he won’t have a way to stop you this time. 

Standing promptly at the end of the line, you people-watch and listen to conversations of the fellow students hanging around the field. The drink stands are the most occupied out of the whole festival, the crowd of people waiting for a beverage accumulating half the population waiting for the concert, making you almost regret going here alone, since it’s pretty boring to just stand around, doing nothing.

“Damn,” someone hums from behind you, making you turn around to face the stranger, “I’m doomed.”

Instinctively, you raise your brows in question at the male, only prompting him to speak more once you make eye contact. 

“I’m playing on stage in a bit, but I wanted to get a beer before we start,” the guy states, chuckling. “At this rate, I’m gonna be late for my own set!” 

The fact that one of the band members that are supposed to perform in just a few minutes is currently standing behind you in line for drinks is a little amusing, to be honest. You’d say it’s kind of irresponsible to get to your own gig late, but you guess the boy is living the lifestyle of a punk star already, despite bagging only a mere university concert.

“You should try skipping the line and saying you’re VIP, then,” you joke. 

“And get killed? No, thank you,” the boy laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll just see if I can make it in 15 minutes. If I don’t, I’ll just make a run for it.”

Laughing, you nod in acknowledgement at his comment. You don’t really expect the conversation to go any further after that, but the stranger surprises you as he offers you his hand to shake, a lazy smile appearing on his face as he introduces himself.

“I’m Yeonjun, by the way,” he says.

“Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” you smile, shaking his outstretched palm.

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” he hums, making a step towards you as the line moves, making you walk back a step to close the gap in the crowd. Still, he follows you a step further and invades your personal bubble, standing too close for someone you’ve just met.

“Maybe you have,” you shrug, “and you just don’t remember it.”

“I’d remember a pretty face like yours,” Yeonjun comments, making you bite back a laugh. 

Is he flirting? Wow. You scan the male up and down, his self-assured stance making you believe that he is very confident in his persona. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s very attractive– plump lips, tall, shoulders broad– or maybe it’s the social status that comes with being in a band. Nonetheless, you can see the act working on many women. 

Not you, though.

“Well, I study business, so maybe that’s why.”

The male nods, shrugging. “Maybe I’ll have to hang around the business building more often, then.”

“Maybe,” you nod, chuckling. “There's a bunch of weirdos majoring in Accounting out there, though, so I’d watch my back, if I was you.”

“Well, if it means I get to see your face, I can put that past me,” Yeonjun smirks, making you mentally roll your eyes at the cheesiness of his words.

You don’t really get affected by obvious pick-up lines like these. Not that you hear them often– quite the opposite, really– but you much prefer more natural dynamics. One where conversations feel easy and casual, not forced and with deeper intentions. You can’t deny Yeonjun’s attractiveness, no, but you also can’t really say it’s doing much for you.

Not really knowing what to reply, you awkwardly shrug. “And what do you major in, then?”

“Communications,” the male replies. Something in you clicks– is this the friend Eric was mentioning? You should ask him about Yeonjun after he comes back.

Before you even have a chance to open your mouth and say the words, the male cuts you off after taking a quick glance at his phone. “Look, Y/N, I’d love to get to know you more, but I really have to run now. But if you give me your number, we can get a drink together after my gig is done?”

“Oh–”

“That won’t be needed,” you hear a low voice coming from behind you, making your eyes snap towards the source. Your eyes go wide as you recognise the owner of the voice instantly, your heart hammering in your chest at the close proximity he puts between the two of you. “She’s with me, actually.”

“Eric, dude!” Yeonjun beams– confirming your suspicions. “Sorry dude, I didn’t know that was your girl.”

Your girl. The two words echo in your ears, making your world tilt slightly on its axis. It’s not even true– you’re not together and you’re not Eric’s in any way, shape or form– but something about being called that by other people while wearing his clothes makes you feel like you just shifted realities into one where you’re with him and not so scared of his rejection. One where you’re dating and you get to be called that all the time– one where the words are true. 

You’re being foolish again.

You look at Eric in shock, noticing him already staring down at you with a panicked expression on his face. You don’t really know what’s going on in his head behind the shaking orbs of his, a tight-lipped smile offered to his mate as the tips of his ears burn red, a hesitant tone of voice making it known that the possessive words caught him off guard just as much as they did to you. “Well, not exactly…”

The male trails off. Your stomach does that weird thing again. You’d say there’s a soaring hint of hope in your chest, swimming around your intestines, that you want to simultaneously help and also drown in fear of holding on to something that is not even there in the first place, as you look back at Yeonjun. He is now staring the two of you down– shifting his gaze from one of you to the other, a knowing grin appearing on his lips as he processes the situation. 

“O-oh… Okay, I see what you mean,” he nods, laughing. “Well, see you two later! I’mma head to the stage,” he pats Eric’s shoulder and waves at you before fully disappearing from the never-ending drink line.

A suffocating silence engulfs the two of you after his departure, making you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek. The thoughts running through your brain almost suffocate you before Eric brings air into your lungs again, making your inner monologue stop as he casually speaks up again, showing you that nothing has changed in your dynamic after this interaction and there is no reason for you to feel awkward with him right now. 

You just need to silence your thoughts and feelings more efficiently. These slip-ups can’t keep happening.

“What will you have to drink?” he asks.

“I’m not telling you, because then you’ll get it for me and I decided I’m paying today,” you say, batting your eyelashes innocently at the male.

“I can just pay anyway, you know?” he laughs, making you shake your head.

“You don’t have to do that,” you hum. “Actually, I don’t want you to. You keep getting things for me, so I think this is the time to repay the favor.”

“Damn it,” he sighs. “That was me paying the Y/N subscription, though. How will I manage to make you keep hanging out with me now?” he jokes, shaking his head.

“Stupid,” you giggle, teasingly pushing him out of your way. “What will you get? And don’t say nothing, it’s my time to pay the Eric subscription fee.”

“I actually get paid in hugs and cuddles, so this doesn’t work on me,” the male shrugs, avoiding eye contact with you. 

“Damn,” you hiss through your teeth, acting distraught. “That payment is long overdue, then. Wonder if they’ll come and take my house, or something.”

“I heard they won’t if you pay back what you owe,” he states casually.

How can he say such things with a straight face? Does he not realize just how much his sweet words affect you? Does he not know you feel like he has a magnet inside of him at all times that is begging to pull you in and glue you to his side, always and forever? Is he unaware of the effect his arms have on you whenever he puts them around your shoulders in public, or to the way your hands sweat whenever his fingers mindlessly drag themselves along the length of shoulder while doing so?

Or does he know and only wants to drive you crazier, more insane? Does he enjoy your misery?

“Hope it’s not a lot, then,” you joke, watching as the boy finally looks at you, eyes soft and glimmering, shoulders shrugging.

“I’ll hand the accounting over to you,” he says. “I trust that you’ll figure it out.”

Punching him in the shoulder lightly, you shake your head at his antics. “Peach iced tea, then?” 

“How did you know?”

“You always get that one when you’re driving,” you say, walking up to the counter.

He lets you pay for the drink this time, eyes glued to your figure. You’re unaware of the way he watches you in the crowd, just as much as he is of the fact that he doesn’t have to fear an older, taller band guy stealing your attention away from him. 

You come back to your friends with the drinks in hand just in time for the show to start. You watch the stage and grin at the sight of the frontman you just met having the time of his life during his gig, while the boy next to you watches your face every time a love song appears on the setlist.  Neither of you are bold enough to dance together to the slow beats the way Izzy and Sunwoo are, lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes. You share knowing looks instead– growing shy when you hum the lyrics off the well-known songs Yeonjun’s band covers and the words get too intimate. 

In the tune of love by wave to earth, though, when your heart skips a beat as Eric’s hand accidentally brushes against yours, you decide they wrote the song about him– not that you’ll ever admit that out loud.

The doorbell rings. Alone in the apartment, but knowing exactly who you’re expecting to see on the other side of the door– well, at least who you’re hoping to see– you shuffle towards the hall in your socked feet, taking your sweet time, your pace slow. There is not much energy stored in your body after today, and even though you wish to just bury yourself under the covers of your bed and sleep until you regain everything that your internship took away from you– until you don’t feel so bad about yourself and so defeated with your efforts– your small, fragile heart yearns for the presence of one person in particular, making you sheepishly order pizza through their website, because you know he has work today and there is no other way for you to see him.

Reaching for the handle, you open the door and reveal your busted appearance to Eric Sohn standing at your doorstep with a box of pizza in his hands, a light pink hoodie covering his figure, eyes big as the moon staring at you all expecting.

“So? How did it go?” he asks, genuinely hopeful. The boy has been suspicious of your mood ever since you got the final presentation on your internship over with and you didn’t instantly text him, telling him how it went– and the look he finds on your face only further proves his suspicions.

Your face morphs into a deep frown, trying to bite back your tears. His cheerful demeanor drops the moment he sees you struggling, not wasting a second as he shifts towards you and makes you back up into your apartment, putting the pizza box onto the coffee table in your hall before throwing his arms around your body, leading your grabby hands to hold on to the fabric of his sweater.

“It was terrible,” you sniffle, feeling the palm of his hand cradle your head into the crook of his shoulder, petting your slightly matted hair. A few tears escape your eyes and roll down your cheeks, making your whole body shake and tremble in his hold. 

You don’t usually show how affected you are by disappointment. You feel a bit humiliated, a bit embarrassing for both flunking your presentation and also for showing your weakness in front of Eric, but his gentle nature and the comfort you feel in his sheer presence is enough for you to forget about the hurt. You try to focus on the warmth of his skin instead, on the way his arm soothingly runs down your back, making you ground yourself. There is not much you can tell him in your current position, words getting caught in your throat, but it’s still enough for him to understand.

“I worked so hard on it,” you mumble, “I tried so- I tried so hard, and then they said it w-was bad and–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he hums, holding you closer to him. 

You’re not used to not being instantly good at everything. It’s something you have yet to come to terms with after getting into university. You’re no longer the top of your class and you aren’t the best at all assignments and final exams you take anymore– and it’s a big kick to your ego. It makes you feel useless. It makes you feel stupid.

And that’s world-shattering. The image you once had of yourself is now taken forcefully away from your hands, replaced by disappointment and shame from the fact that you’re only mediocre and everything you thought about yourself up to this point was just a mere lie.

“Y/N, you tried your best. And I know you feel bad now, but I’m still proud of you for working so hard– it’s not your fault your efforts weren’t appreciated,” he says close to your ear, trying his hardest to be the calm after the storm for you.

After a few moments spent breathing in his scent, anchoring yourself to his presence, you force yourself to pull away from his chest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, averting his gaze– because still, this is all so new to you and you don’t really know how to let yourself feel less foolish for your sudden outburst– you shrug and clear your throat.

“Uhm… thank you,” you mumble, “sorry for…”

“No,” he shakes his head, suddenly moving to take off his shoes. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“You’re… Eric, you have work, you can’t just stay. I don’t want you to get in trouble–”

“They can’t fire me,” he chuckles, trying to make light of the situation. After you watch him with worried, guilty eyes– because even though the logical part of your brain is telling you to throw him out of your apartment and just go eat the pizza you ordered as you bite back your own tears, the emotional side of you really wants him here, it really wants him close. He moves towards you again and ruffles your hair, gentle eyes watching you, preventing you from protesting any further. “It’s okay, Y/N. You need me here more than they do tonight, trust me.”

“I feel bad now,” you mumble.

“I know,” he playfully notes, “that’s why I’m here. Besides, you’re more important than work anyway.”

“That’s a pretty fucked up list of priorities,” you laugh airly, trying to mask the way his words have your heart squeezing on itself, nervous gold swirling in your stomach.

“It works for me,” he shrugs.

The moment you move back towards your room, the realization of the fact that Eric’s never seen it before sinks in fully, suddenly making you nervous about the act. Everything feels strangely natural as he enters the space, though, feet shuffling towards your bed as he takes a seat on the comfy mattress. However, your eyes still nervously scan your room, chewing on your bottom lip as you wonder if the perception of you has changed after seeing the state of you, the state you live in. “I’m sorry, it’s kinda messy–”

“Y/N.”

Looking at him, noticing the encouraging, gentle gaze he offers you, everything around you shifts in its axis– the world stops, giving you a chance to breathe, a chance to exhale, and the weight slowly disappears off your shoulders. 

“Relax,” he laughs softly as he reaches for your hand, tugging you towards him. Taking your place in between his legs, towering over the sweet creature in your bed, you feel like you can finally breathe more easily now that he’s here.

It’s okay, you realize. Magically, today no longer feels like the end of the world. 

His thumb gently swipes across the back of your palm, making your insides turn into a putty, a soft smile slowly mirroring his appearing on your previously frowning face. 

“I’d like to, uh..” you clear your throat, shying away from his gaze, “pay back the missed subscription fees then, if I can.”

Your bold statement has the room fall into an overbearing silence. For a moment, you forget it’s Eric who you’re with– the man that never judges you, the only one that makes you feel safe– as you go into a momentary panic. When you dare to look at him again, though, you notice him eagerly searching for your gaze, a boyish smile playing with his lips showing you that he doesn’t mind you asking– quite the opposite, really. He enjoys the preposition.

The male leans back in your bed and watches you as you climb next to him. For a moment, you don’t really know what to do, being too shy to hold onto him the way you truly want to, but the male wastes no time as he shuffles a bit in your sheets and moves to his side. One of his arms sneaks around your middle, pulling you to him, as his leg carelessly swings over your feet, trapping you in. His whole body weight rests against your figure, but it does nothing to suffocate you or take air out of your lungs– quite the opposite, really. 

You feel content in his hold. Your hand instinctively holds onto his forearm, keeping him close. If you could, you’d crawl into his skin, make a home in his chest and stay there, protected from all bad. What you don’t realize is that there’s a little fort in his heart reserved as a house for you already– one he guards and lets no one into– the unspoken, tender words now hanging everywhere around the corners of your room.

“The pizza will get cold, though,” he mumbles, tone of voice low from the close proximity of him next to you, the desire to protect the intimacy showing through the hushed out words.

“I’m not hungry,” you say lazily– exposing him to the fact that it’s not the food you needed tonight when you were ordering. “I kinda feel sleepy, though” you admit, letting your eyes rest a bit. You’ve been restless ever since you came home from work today– you didn’t know all you needed to finally turn off your endless stream of thoughts was Eric’s presence.

“Sleep, then,” he hums. “I’ll heat it up for you when you wake up.”

You let out a disapproving sound.

“You need sleep. And also food,” he scolds you, his other hand somehow sneaking itself under your figure and into your hair again, playing with the strands and scratching at your scalp. “You’ve been stressing out for so long, no wonder you’re so worn out right now.”

You feel like you’ve been laid bare, exposed right in front of his eyes. You feel naked and fully vulnerable, but you make no effort to shield yourself from his gaze, for it’s not prying and unwanted, but gentle and caring– so much to the point you feel like it’s going to consume you. Your head spins and your heart aches with deep yearning– it’s strange. 

You already know what that feeling is: 

You’re falling, falling, and falling.

All there’s left is to hope he won’t drop you. All there is left is to hope he’ll catch you on your way down.

Your body shifts so it’s facing him, your breathing mixed. Your faces are inches away from each other, making you afraid to open your eyes and study him from up close– for you think he knows how to read you too well by now, and your lingering gaze would tell him too much. Eyes don’t lie, after all– they never do.

“You did well,” he hums. 

The shattered pieces of your tender heart spill themselves into his outstretched palms. You watch as he mends them together, sewing them with an invisible, red string. The boy silently leans into your face and his lips press a gentle kiss to your cheek, only further strengthening your decision to stay blind in the moment, not wanting to reveal just how much you’re affected by the tender action. 

It’s been a long drop– a slow one, one you could get used to. Still, you’re falling, falling and falling,

And even though you’re unaware, he’s there all this time, waiting at the bottom, his arms open wide. 

The idea of celebrating the end of the exam season with Izzy, Eric and Sunwoo by going bowling is quickly and forcefully taken out of your hands when you arrive at Sohn's Pizza to pick the boys up, all dressed up and ready. The place is full of people, there is screaming coming out of the kitchen, and while usually, Eric or Sunwoo would be greeting you by coming out of the back and welcoming you in, there is no one in your sight– which makes you just the tiniest bit suspicious.

Sharing a concerned look with your roommate, the two of you curiously walk through the place and peek behind the counter, being met with emptiness as more screaming resonates through the kitchen. You don’t mean to intrude or listen in on a conversation you’re not exactly invited to, you really don’t– but you just can’t help it as the sound of Eric’s angry, frustrated voice cuts through the space, catching not only your attention, but also everyone else’s in the restaurant.

“I don’t care that dad is too scared to hire someone into our sacred family business!” he huffs. “I don’t give a single flying fuck, because now, our plans are ruined again, all because they decided to go on a surprise holiday and they left us three to deal with the whole place!” Eric ironically sings the words ‘surprise holiday’ as he expresses his frustration, showing how much the whole situation bothers him.

“Eric, calm down, people can hear you–” you hear Lisa muttering, making you chuckle at the interaction between the siblings.

“So if dad wants to go on a holiday ever again, he either hires someone so we don’t have to be here 24/7, or I quit!” he finishes his little rant. 

There is a moment of silence behind the thin walls, making you and Izzy stare at each other with a blank look– a look empty, but full of understanding that there is no bowling happening today and there is nothing you can really do about it– before the sound of dishes hitting the floor hits your ears, making you wince. The fall is followed by a pained voice full of misery.

“FUCK!”

Izzy chuckles, opening the door to the kitchen without much hesitance, inviting the two of you into the chaotic situation. Taking a step towards the room behind the staff only sign which you ignore because Izzy thinks she’s basically a part of the family now, you look around a bit anxiously, being met with the sight of Eric picking up bowls and pans from the floor and throwing them back into the sink to wash, Sunwoo adding topics to a pizza with furrowed brows and his bottom lip jolted out (clearly sulking), and Lisa checking up on the food in the oven.

All three pairs of eyes are glued to you the moment the sound of the door opening fills the space, two sets lighting up and the third one looking at you with pure curiosity. 

“Need any help around here?” Izzy chuckles, looking around. The place is messy– covered with sauce in some places, flour all over Sunwoo’s apron, soap and water dripping down the cleaning station. It’s clear as hell the three of them aren’t handling the after-exam Friday rush well by themselves, and although you mourn the idea of relaxing in a bowling alley with your friends after the hard weeks of finals, you can’t say you’re too disappointed.

You can’t play bowling, after all, and you still get to see your friends– so it’s no big deal.

“No, you don’t have to–” Eric starts, ever-so considerate.

“It’s okay, we just–” Sunwoo follows, the two boys not wanting to share the responsibility that’s not yours.

After hearing each other interrupting their dismissive words, the two look at each other and chuckle. “I’m afraid we can’t hang out today, though. As you can see, our parents left the place to us and went on a holiday–”

“We heard,” you cut the owner’s son off, a teasing grin on your face shutting the boy up instantly, to which he offers you a shy look as he drowns his hands in the sink again, trying to tackle the dishes. 

Walking over to the poor boy reminding you a little of a wet dog now, since his bangs are damp as well, making you believe he’s been running his hands through in frustration mid-washing up– you take a kitchen towel off one of the shelves and decide to dry off the plates he’s done scrubbing, putting them away neatly on one of the trays situated next to the sink and getting them ready for the next customers. You don’t really ask what to help with, since you’re sure Eric and Sunwoo wouldn’t tell you either– feeling bad for making you work with them instead of taking you out like they promised they would– you only tackle what seems to be the most important task in the moment, helping out the best you can.

“Izzy, I’m really sorry for exploiting you,” Lisa starts out, making the whole room laugh out at her joke, “but for a free pizza or maybe even two, would you mind doing the waitressing for a bit? I fear people out there are mad as hell, but maybe if you tell them we are short on staff today–”

“I’m on it!” your roommate nods and salutes to the older girl, disappearing back into the main area of the pizza place. Since she has some experience with waitressing and working in the food service, you doubt there is anything to worry about.

The kitchen quiets down, the only sounds heard being from the sink, an occasional sigh escaping Sunwoo’s throat– he really must have been looking forward to this day– the atmosphere growing less heavy and hectic with two more pairs of hands in the building. You know they don’t want to admit it, but the boys are secretly glad for the help– it makes working so much easier and less nerve-wrecking to the employed youngsters.

“I’m sorry,” falls out of between Eric’s lips after a while, low and sincere. You look at him from your place to the left of his figure, furrowing your brows at him in question.

“Huh?” you voice out, watching him shrug.

“Well, we were supposed to hang out today and now we can’t, so…” the boy trails off, making you chuckle and coo at him, touched with his sincerity.

“That’s not really your fault, so I don’t see why you’re apologizing,” you say, “besides, we are still hanging out now, no? I don’t mind the location change,” you smile, slightly bumping your hip into his, the kitchen towel now getting damper and damper with the amount of dishes you’ve dried off with it in such a small time frame.

The two of you continue on with the task, all while playfully bumping hips from time to time, trying to catch the other one off guard with the contact, grins shared between the two of you. You barely register Izzy coming in and out of the kitchen, telling the cook– Sunwoo– the new orders, Eric and you pulled into your own bubble, attention focused mostly on each other, then at the otherwise domestic act accompanying you in your interaction.

“Exams went well?” Eric asks. 

Nodding, you hum in agreement. “Some were harder than others, but I didn’t fail any, so that’s a win. You?”

“About the same,” he grins. “I mean, the grades aren’t great, but I passed all of them, so…”

You laugh at his comment, shaking your head at his attitude. You wish you could take school and all of its responsibilities with as much ease as your friend does– too bad you’re an anxious over-achiever and don’t really know how to relax ever.

“Academic weapon,” you joke.

“Oh, that’s your title,” he says as he finally scrubs off the last plate and turns the tap off, placing it into your hands to dry, “I don’t even try, because I don’t wanna take it away from you,” he jokes.

“So considerate,” you muse, rolling your eyes at him. The boy wipes his hands on the towel hanging off your arm, the two of you sharing a playful look– Eric’s eyes swirling with honey and gold inside, making you all warm and fuzzy. You find it hard to look away.

The noise of someone suddenly clearing their throat catches you off guard and pops the soap bubble you’ve been trapped in with your friend, making you look at the source, curious what his sister has to say. She is looking at the two of you with a teasing smirk on her face that instantly makes your cheeks burn– for you know you were caught staring too much, too long at her younger brother– before she points to the pizza boxes in front of her, towering so much they almost topple over and drown her in the baked dough and cheese.

“I need you two to do the deliveries,” she muses, “if you don’t mind, of course.”

Shaking your head, showing that you’re completely fine with the task, the two of you walk over towards the impressive pizza tower. Eric takes the bigger half into his hands while Lisa puts the car keys onto the box on top of your smaller stack, sending you a knowing look that you try to ignore. 

Walking out of the place, noting that one person could very well do the deliveries alone after loading up the car, but also realizing that even though you could be more needed inside, you kinda wanna spend more time with Eric, you wait for him to shut the car door and tell you the next instructions.

“I think the most efficient way to do this is one of us driving and the other one going up to the doors with the orders,” he muses, watching you nod in understanding. “I can drive, if you want?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, not really happy with the mental image of talking to so many people tonight, you huff. “I kinda wanna drive, though…?” you peep. 

The male stares at you for a few seconds– as if contemplating if you’re safe enough of a driver, or something– before he places the key into your hand and closes your palm, entrusting you with… pretty much his life, if you really think about it. In his defense, it only takes one wrong turn and both of you could be dead– but he seemingly believes in your abilities.

After you get into the driver’s seat and adjust it to your liking, making sure you can see in all of the mirrors, you pull out of the parking lot with ease, turning with Eric’s directions. You see him watching the map on his phone, making sure you know where to go in time to not turn this drive into an amateur redemption of The fast and the furious: Tokyo drift. You drive smoothly, getting to the destination in short time, stopping in front of the targeted house and watching as your friend gets out of the car with a few pizza boxes, jogging up to the front door.

The sight makes you remember how you met him a few months ago. It makes you chuckle, noticing how much has changed– you didn’t even want pizza that night, but today, you’re driving him in his car, watching as he makes the deliveries. 

“No strange notes asking for cute delivery boys?” you joke when he gets to the car and tells you to drive straight until he says to turn right, making him chuckle.

“No, not really,” he shakes his head, “but I think it’s funny how Sunwoo didn’t get to go, yet it still landed him a girlfriend.”

“I mean, they were both pretty desperate,” you admit, chuckling. Your foolish brain can’t help but wonder– what if it could land both of them a girlfriend? What if you were bold enough to confess your feelings one day? 

“True,” he nods, “they go well together.”

“It’s still miserable to watch them interact sometimes, though,” you joke.

“I’m sorry, I tried my hardest to prevent it,” he muses.

Furrowing your brows, you look at him in confusion only for a second before you focus back on the road. “Huh?”

“I physically fought Sunwoo so I could go deliver those pizzas to your house back then,” he grins. “Back then, it was because I genuinely believed I was the cuter one, but I think that somehow, I kind of felt it, y’know? Like, intuition. It was telling me ‘Eric, don’t let Sunwoo deliver those pizzas, because then your friend will get into a relationship and make every second with him miserable, because he can’t shut up about his new girlfriend–”

You cut him off by laughing, shaking your head at his antics. Eric points towards a street, hinting that you should turn, having you follow his orders. 

“I like your confidence,” you say, “but to be fair, seeing you show up at my door was kind of crazy, after all these years.”

“You make it sound as if you disagree with me,” he casually utters out. 

Your hands sweat on the steering wheel. Maybe you should swerve off the road and drive into a tree so you can avoid this conversation.

“Maybe I do,” you shrug, thankful that driving makes it easier for you to avert your gaze from him and not make it seem like you’re forcefully avoiding him.

“So we’re just gonna ignore the fact that you called me the hottest–”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m crashing the car–” you threaten, your voice coming out a bit more miserable-sounding than you intended it to, showing just how not casual the whole situation was for you.

“Look, you don’t have to be shy about it, we both know–”

“Okay, passenger princess,” you shut him off, watching as the boy next to you has a visceral reaction to your comment.

“I literally offered to drive!”

“Whatever you say,” you muse as you make the car stop at the next destination and let Eric out to complete another delivery.

After the boy jumps inside of the car again, he ignores the previous topic of the conversation. That fact makes you happy, since you don’t really know if you’re ready to face the problem at hand– the problem being the very obvious and strong, magnetizing feelings you have for the boy– so you only continue to drive, listening to the radio he puts on and his occasional humming that he slides in through the directions he gives you.

He continues to deliver all the pizzas they baked when he announces that you’re approaching the last destination. You can’t say you’re happy about the fact– since you started to quite enjoy the comfort of the drive, but you guess you can’t really prolong the moment any more and force it to last forever, no matter how much you’d like it to.

Eric walks out of the car with the last three boxes in his hands, knocking on the door. The commotion lasts longer than usual, making you suspicious of the interaction he has with the man at the door, before you see the boy shrugging and walking back to the car, one pizza box still in his hands. To say you’re confused would be an understatement.

“What happened? Did we mess up somehow?” you ask, motioning towards the pizza box in his hands.

“I don’t think it was us who messed up,” Eric snickers, “apparently, they only ordered two pizzas, so I think Sunwoo accidentally made three.”

“Oh,” you hum, nodding in acknowledgement.

“But that’s fine, because that means we can have this one for free,” the boy grins at you as he puts on his seatbelt. “Let’s move a few blocks so we don’t just stay in front of this dude’s house, though.”

You furrow your brows at him, but still start the engine nonetheless. “Shouldn’t we head back? I bet we should hurry, from how packed it was, they surely need our help–”

There is a lack of worry in Eric’s face as he shakes his head in disapproval. It seems that neither of you really want to go back to Sohn’s Pizza and work– because it’s not as fun as driving around together, singing along to the radio– but the lack of empathy towards his sister and his friends surprises you. “I’m sure they will survive a few more minutes. Come on, Y/N, the bowling didn’t work out, so let me make it up for you at least this way.”

His pleading voice does enough to persuade you as you drive down the street and then a few more blocks to the left, trying to find a calm place where you could park the car and won’t bother anyone as you eat the remaining pizza, while also trying to forget about Lisa, Izzy and Sunwoo alone in the pizzeria working their asses off. You feel a bit guilty with the idea in your brain, but you try to push it back with the image of spending more time alone with Eric– and suddenly, the previous is almost too easy to ignore.

Little did you know that this was Lisa’s plan all along. While you may be a bad wingman, Eric’s sister surely isn’t.

Stopping in front of one of the houses that seems to be empty, turning the engine off and undoing your seatbelt, you spin around to face Eric as he opens the pizza box and gasps at the sight of the cheesy dough. “I’m pretty sure this was fate, man,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “There’s no way we are left with your favorite. Extra cheesy too, damn...”

“This is unbelievable,” you agree, playfully clasping your hands together in prayer. “Thank you universe for the sign. You were right, we were supposed to stay out longer.”

“I’m always right,” he nods, watching as you eagerly take a triangle off the greasy cardboard and bite down into it, your taste buds cheering in joy as you chew on the treat.

Eric is quick to follow as he takes one for himself as well, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you eat. You didn’t even realize you were hungry before– your intentions being to eat at the bowling alley– and so you welcome this idea even more now that your stomach is less upset. Crossing your legs on the seat, not really caring about getting the car dirty– which in retrospect, you should’ve– you hum before you speak up again, already on your second piece.

“If you were a pizza, you’d be this exact pizza right here,” you hum. You don’t really know where that idea came from, but you think you’re speaking the truth– in your mind, it makes total sense.

Eric stares at you like a confused puppy, a slight grin appearing on his face showing you that he’s trying to see where that came from. “Why?” he asks. “Because you love me?”

Here it is again– the heat appearing on your cheeks from the panic, embarrassment filling your veins. You feel like you were caught in the act, like he sees right through you– with how he’s been acting the whole evening, you think he might have some sort of intuition. Still, you won’t admit to your feelings out loud– because there’s no way they’re reciprocated, and you won’t cause such a heartbreak to yourself willingly. 

Eric is just social like that. He is sweet, playful. There is no undertone to his actions– it’s just who he is as a person, and there is no way he likes you back.

“No,” you cough out, almost choking on the pizza. “You’d be a margherita, because it’s a safe choice. Everyone likes a margherita! It’s fun, and it’s–”

“Tasty?” he interrupts you, a shit-eating grin already plastered onto his lips. “I taste good too, wanna check?”

You think he might be teasing you just for the fun of it now. He loves to feed on your misery, because he sees right through you, he knows you’re absolutely, incredibly enchanted by him, and it strokes his ego to rile you up and make you flustered. You’re sure of it now. “Oh, shut it!”

Eric laughs out loud before he swallows another bite, shrugging. “If you were a pizza, you’d be hawaiian.”

“Hm? Why?” you ask, busying yourself with chewing on the cheesy dough in your hold. 

“Because you are both salty and sweet,” he starts, “and I didn’t expect to be so into it.”

His words make you stop in your tracks. He didn’t expect to be so into it. Does he mean he’s into you, or are you just reading too much into his words? Trying not to seem too affected by his words– trying to play it casual, nonchalant– you clear your throat and avert your gaze from him, continuing to chew. The pizza in your mouth loses all its flavor the longer you focus on it, turning into a mass of nothing to your taste buds. After the last bite, you’re left mortified with the realization that you have nothing to focus your attention to now, if you don’t want to face your friend again and take another slice in between your fingers from the pizza box resting in his lap, and so you just continue to stare ahead, beaten up by the awkward silence.

Play it cool, Y/N. Be normal. He must think you’re weird now, because you wondered even for a second if his joke was serious, and now he won’t want to hang out with you ever again–

“So, uhm, just checking,” Eric awkwardly laughs, something about his tone sounding nervous in your ears. “Are you really still that oblivious, or are you just pretending you didn’t catch that to not hurt my feelings because you don’t like me back…?” he asks.

Your heart does a somersault. Hell, you think you just went into cardiac arrest– your ears are ringing, your stomach is floating on water and your breathing quickens with his words. Having a full visceral reaction does nothing to help you speak back to him, but your body reacts on itself as you snap your head to the side and finally look at him, gazing into his big, honest eyes.

He looks at you in a similar way he did back at that party– expecting, hopeful. You didn’t catch it back then– the eager, desperate look in his orbs, wishing, praying you chose him in a room full of people, picked him in a row of anyone who would like to have you. It leaves you weak, it leaves you feeling like you were just punched in your face with the realization that you’ve been foolish to ever think that this was just how Eric acts and there was nothing more to his acts of care and affection.

“I-  uh… I just didn’t expect you to like me back…?” you say, making it sound like a question, still uncertain about the whole situation. “I thought you were just…” you trail off, pupils shaking as you watch the boy’s face morph out of nervousness into a bright, amused smile.

“Look, I’m– I just–” you stutter, not really knowing what else to say, how else to express yourself. 

Eric was always much quicker than you, much more clever in social situations. He takes your lack of words as a hint as he holds onto your honest, surprised state and takes it upon himself to solidify the reality for you, to show you what the two of you’ve been missing for the last couple of months. Reaching over the gearstick, he gently glazes your cheek with his palm before he sends a one last look to your eyes, watching out for any sign of discomfort. 

His lips lock with yours. You’re convinced the world stopped turning.

Eric Sohn is sweet like cherry cola. He is a taste of familiarness with something more to it, something new and fresh, sugary and addictive. He is gentle, with an exciting aftertaste, leaving you breathless and wanting more. He is like a hint of home, a memory of your childhood, all safe and loving and tender. 

The kiss is short. It has you leaning towards him, a handful of his hoodie filling up your fist as you desperately, foolishly drag him to you and press your lips to his again, as if to check if the last kiss was real and you didn’t just make it up in your mind by wishful thinking.

You guess you finally reached the bottom after the long, slow fall. You don’t even feel the landing as his arms hold you up and spin you around instead, showing you that falling in love doesn’t have to be all that scary– if the one you want is caring, if the one you want is nothing short of an angel in your eyes.

After you pull away from him, he rests his forehead against yours and enjoys the proximity which he doesn’t have to hide the need for anymore– now that he’s all yours to keep and you’re all his to hold.

“You really thought I didn’t like you back? Hell, Y/N, you’re all I ever think about,” he scoffs, showing you the ridiculousness of your own beliefs, his ever-so playful tone only further solidifying the sweet aftertaste of his confession. “I like, have butterflies in my stomach and all,” he confides, grinning at you. 

Rolling your eyes, finally easing into the new territory, you tease him for his words. “That was extra cheesy.”

“I thought you liked that?”

Gazing into his eyes, feeling your own heartbeat hammering against your chest, you can’t help but chuckle at the subtle irony of it all. 

“Maybe I do.”

[rotthepoet]

There's definitely mutual feelings if there gonna help you buy a vibrator 😝

IM SO SORRY BABES I HAVE HAD THE WORST WRITING BLOCK

So obvs theres some crushing and its like apparently to everyone but the two of you.

Draco doesn’t even know what hit him, hes out here spoiling you into loving him, and hes just such a great friend! Look at him go! He doesnt even care when you pull him into a store with blacked out windows. I mean. He sure as fuck notices when his eyes land upon copious amounts of dildos and panties. He doesnt even know where to look. He wants to direct you to the lingerie but you lead him to a wall full of vibrators. And hes fucking sweating okay? Man is losing his cool. Pulling on his shirt collar and puffing slightly. “I cant decide between these two” as you present two veey large and complex toys to him. He cant even look you in the eyes when he grabs the boxes for you. He doesnt look at the cashier either while checking out.

Blaise is a bit more cool about it, having actually had a conversation about it before. “Hey, weird question, Pans bailed on me, so do you want to help me pick out a new vibe?” And while his eyes go wide and he has to take a second, he does verbally agree. So there you stand in the sex shop, comparing different shapes and sizes, cordless and remote controlled. He’s really insightful actually. “Look at this one, if you turn it around it doubles as a dildo.” He offers to but the most expensive, ridiculous looking vibrator in the shop. While it becomes an inside joke amongst you two, he wants nothing more than to watch you use it.

Mattheo, that little shit, he actually dragged you into the store. He needed more lube(you didnt ask why, and didnt want to know) so to entertain yourself, you browsed the various dildos and vibes. Naturally this dickwad comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, peering over your shoulder. “I didnt know you were…” “sexually active?” “A whore.” He leaves the store with a bruise and you leave it with a smile and new toy to play with.(trust he shamelessly asks for a video later)

Theodore accidentally found your laptop open on a site, and he sat there for a few mimosas scrolling through your cart. He gave you a disappointed look when you came back into the room. “Look at the reviews on these before you even consider them. Who even online shops for dick?” You just roll your eyes at him as he continues hounding you, offering instead to show you what he would recommend. Online shopping takes about 2 hours with him before you even hit purchase.

Lorenzo and you were playing one on one truth or dare out in the common room. Everyone else was busy, but boredom strikes when least expected. After a few rounds, each getting more risqué than the last, Lorenzo finally asks you what yiur favorite way to pleasure yourself is. And you can only imagine the pure shock on his face when you get out a blushy “I dont really like… use any toys.” And hes taking you out on the town immediately, despite your flustered protests.

[kimmkitsuragi]

oh god and the 3rd party adapter doesn't even work properly. no one could see this coming

bro my charger finally exploded. glad i didnt die

[drvirgus]

hiiii! can I request a sugar baby hanni x gp! reader? 🙏 thanks!

Hopefully you like it :)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My Sugar Baby

Sugar Baby! Hanni X g!p Reader

wc: 1.2k

Warnings: Smut!!!

One Shot:

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My head immediately turned back to where my- I meant my Sugar Baby, dressed only in a bathrobe, came from the bedroom and rubbed her eyes sleepily. A smile spread across my lips as I watched Hanni slowly move toward me and promptly sit on my lap.

My right hand rested on her thighs while my other hand wrapped around her waist. "Good afternoon," I said with a smirk as I glanced briefly at the clock on my laptop and then back to the woman on my lap. A hum escaped her throat as she laid her head on my shoulder.

"What's wrong? Still tired?" I asked, giving the younger woman a kiss on the head. The college student only nodded, taking a deep breath and lifting her head to look into my eyes. "Do you... have to work today?" she asked more quietly, causing my eyebrow to twitch.

I knew that tone.

She wanted something.

A smile spread across my lips as I closed the laptop and focused solely on the woman on my lap. "What's today? Shopping?" I asked, making Hanni shake her head slightly, a smile on her lips. "Online shopping," she replied, raising my eyebrow.

"You want me to stop working for that?" I asked, which made Hanni grin. Her arms immediately wrapped around my neck. "Let's play a game," she suggested, regaining my lost interest. Hanni's grin widened.

"A game? What kind of game?" I asked, visibly intrigued, which made Hanni grin happily. "You buy me everything I put in the cart. The timer stops when one of us comes, as you fuck me from behind during that time," Hanni said, quite vulgarly but still seductively.

My breath caught, and my mouth opened as I looked across her entire face. "You won't be able to concentrate," I said, grinning, which only made Hanni laugh. "We'll see about that," she replied, challenging me simultaneously.

Sighing, I tapped her thigh so she would stand up. I grabbed the laptop and took it to the bedroom. I placed the laptop on the bed. Hanni immediately took off her bathrobe and let it fall to the floor. Naked and completely exposed, she lay on her stomach and opened the laptop.

An amused laugh escaped my throat as I undressed. Almost immediately, I grasped my cock and kneeled on the bed. "Open," I ordered as I pressed the tip of my limp cock against Hanni's lips. Unlike usual, there was no foreplay with kissing; we just undressed directly. No wonder I wasn't aroused yet.

Hanni grinned slightly and opened her mouth, allowing me to slide my cock into it. A sigh escaped my lips as I felt the younger woman's warm, wet tongue on my cock. Hanni immediately began sucking, while her fingers navigated one of the shopping sites. Of course, she already knew in advance which sites she would shop on.

I could feel my cock growing harder. Fully aroused, I pulled it out of Hanni's mouth and moved to her thighs. My hands immediately kneaded her well-shaped ass as I rubbed my cock between her buttocks.

"Since I don't want you to spend all my money, there’s no foreplay for you today," I said, laughing lightly as I slapped her ass. I grabbed my cock with my right hand and spread her ass with my left. I positioned myself perfectly at her pussy and thrust in at once.

I heard her soft gasp as I entered her. A grin spread across my lips as I leaned forward, my hands on the mattress, my hips immediately moving against hers. My eyes were on the laptop. "Nice bag," I panted as I thrust harder into her. "Buy two," I added.

Hanni moaned louder, her fingers leaving the laptop. Her face pressed into the mattress as she thrust her hips back against mine. "What's wrong, baby? Keep shopping," I said, laughing, as I leaned back. My hands on her hips pulled her closer to me. I stopped moving, deep inside her.

"If you just want to get fucked, you don't need to play these games. I always enjoy fucking you," I breathed out, getting only a gasp in response. I had to laugh again as I watched Hanni get on her knees and throw her head back onto my shoulder, her mouth open.

"I'm done shopping," she said, prompting me to look at the laptop again. "Move," Hanni demanded, starting to laugh. My eyes focused on the number in the cart. I snorted in disbelief and shook my head slightly. "I forgot what a sly little thing you are," I hissed as I placed my hand on Hanni's head, pressing her back down onto the mattress.

In a flash, I threw the laptop off the bed to focus solely on fucking and ruining the younger woman.

Hanni's moans grew louder as I pounded into her relentlessly, over and over again. Her ass received light slaps, which I immediately soothed with gentle caresses. Hanni's mouth was open, her eyes squeezed shut as I continued to thrust into her.

Of course, I felt my own orgasm approaching, but I held it back. I wanted Hanni to come first. "Are you close?" I asked, a grin on my face, knowing exactly what those loud, resonant sounds meant. Hanni was on the verge of orgasm.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her upper body up. "You're close, aren't you?" I asked, receiving only loud, screamed "Yes" in response. A laugh escaped my throat. "Then work for your damn orgasm," I suddenly said, sitting back and pulling out of her.

Hanni's eyes widened as she looked over her shoulder at me in disbelief. But I just grinned and shrugged. Hanni snorted, rolled over, and swung her leg over my hips to sit on me once more. This time, she made sure my cock entered her again.

I could feel Hanni tightening her walls around me, stimulating my cock as she began to move up and down. Occasionally, she moved her hips sideways, ensuring my cock hit her sensitive spots. My eyes focused on her usually sweet face, now looking incredibly aroused.

A grin spread across my face as I began thrusting upward. I felt my entire cock disappearing into her, and Hanni started to tremble and shake on top of me. Her moans grew louder and dirtier. I focused solely on bringing the younger woman to orgasm.

"Fuck, Y/n," she screamed after a while as I felt her walls tighten even more around my cock, almost choking it, as she climaxed on my hips.

My eyes remained on her as I continued moving my hips against hers until I reached my own orgasm, releasing my cum deep inside her pussy. Her walls clenched down on me, making me gasp for breath. I didn't pull out, staying inside her and enjoying the warmth.

"Fuck... that was amazing," Hanni suddenly said as she collapsed onto me. A laugh escaped my lips as I simply nodded. "Definitely," I replied, my hand stroking her back, a smile on my lips.

"But... you're still buying the stuff, right?" she asked, looking up at me. I immediately rolled my eyes. "Alright. But only because you're so damn sexy," I said, finally connecting my lips with my sweet Sugar Baby's. Hanni kissed back, even deepening the kiss.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[charmercharm3r]

Phases

Phase Four; The Bigger Bed

LMH, HJS

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

wc: 4.2k

Synopsis: Whoever said patience is a virtue never met Jisung and Minho.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, poly!minsung, mxfxm, mxm, barely switch!jisung, sub!minho, barely softdom!fem reader, oral (m), gender envy?, cumming untouched, cum swapping, minho is rich rich fr

☆ﾟcan be read as stand alone

Phase Three ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ Phase Four ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ Phase Five

☆ﾟ

“Will you sit down? We all have to agree or else I’ll be silently wallowing in self consciousness for all of eternity.” You pull out the seat next to you for Jisung to fill, Minho on your other side with his arm slung over the backrest.

“I’m fine with anything you pick out for the room, I just want a bigger bed.”

“Same,” Minho combed his long hair back, gently caressing the back of your neck. “Pick out any decorations you like.”

“No, because if I pick out, like, a throw pillow neither of you like then you’ll be forced to look at it all day every day, then hating the throw pillow will turn into bottled up emotions. Bottled up emotions turn into hatred, hatred towards me for picking ugly pillows. Hating me will turn into kicking me out and making me sleep on the cold, hard ground with nothing but the throw pillow that caused you years of hidden resentment that could’ve been avoided if you’d only helped me pick out room decorations.” Your boyfriends were silent, looking at each other behind your head with raised eyebrows and unconvinced grins.

The laptop in front of you has had pages of home shopping sites open for the past week and making your engines run slower because of how many items were in each of their carts. “So please,” you pulled up the first item in the first webpage, “tell me if you like it or not.”

Jisung leaned in and rested his chin on your shoulder, “...it’s a pretty ugly throw pillow, babe.”

You scoffed and pushed his forehead back with your finger. “This is why I need you both here! I don’t wanna lay outside with an ugly throw pillow to keep me company.”

Minho massaged the nape of your neck with nimble fingers, doing little to soothe you. But he leaned in closer to the computer as well, squinting his eyes and using his free hand to move your hand away to take control of the cursor and look around the page. He’d only scrolled down two or three times to find the recommended items and clicked the first one he saw. “I like blue.”

You turned to face him slowly with a raised brow. He seemed to be objective in the matter, then quirked the corners of his mouth for a light smile and quickly pecked your lips. Although you weren’t entirely convinced they were taking this seriously, it was a start. “Blue… I can work with that. But do you prefer navy blue? Cyan? Royal? Aqua? Baby blue? Maybe more of a cobalt–”

“Oooh, they have sapphire blue!” Jisung stole the laptop entirely and began clicking around, adding things to the cart without consultation.

The three of you were sat at the dining room table for about an hour and a half. You let Jisung pick out stuff he liked, then passed the computer to Minho so he could do the same. Of all the things they chose, you narrowed it down to a final list and figured that it could wait one more day as you all grew too hungry to enjoy online shopping anymore. Minho had suggested he cook something quick, though it wouldn’t be filling. That was when Jisung begged for a cheat night and to order takeout, the both of them looked at you for an opinion.

“I kinda want pizza,” made the younger of your boyfriends jump up and let out a hooray and move to the couch.

Naturally, you and Minho followed and crowded into the tight space. The seating arrangement was always the same, Minho on the left, Jisung in the middle, you on the right. As Jisung placed the order for dinner, you rested your back against the armrest and threw your legs onto his lap. He kept your knees against his abdomen as Minho let his head fall to Jisung’s shoulder. Minho absentmindedly played with your sock-covered toes, tugging and twiddling them while watching Jisung’s phone. The sight itself was cute, you just had to pull out your phone and take a quick photo of them.

Three slices each and thirty minutes later, you’d let out a long, content sigh and moved to the floor so you could lay out. The other two were still going at the pizza, Minho took the opportunity to slip his feet under your shirt and rub your belly. “Cold feet,” you shooed him off and he frowned.

Mouth full of crust, Jisung suggested, “let's go mattress shopping tomorrow.”

“Y’know what?” Your hands coming to rest behind your head made your shirt rise and Minho snuck his feet under it again with a mischievous giggle. “Neither of you asked me to move in.”

“What? Yes we did,” Jisung mumbled at you and joined in playing footsies with the brunette on your belly.

“No you didn’t. I still have my apartment.”

“You can’t afford that,” Minho interjected, frowning.

“I know. So ask me to move in. Or find a new foot warmer.”

“Do I need to?”

“Yeah, it’s not official. I’m a freeloader. Not a penny paid in rent.”

“You don’t pay rent either,” Minho turned to Jisung, staring at the blank television across the room. He didn’t respond, poked in the cheek by the brunette.

“Hm? What’re we talking about?”

“Rent.”

“The musical?”

You and Minho shared a knowing look as he twisted on the couch to lay his head in Minho’s lap. Silence fell over the three of you as conversation died down while comfort took over. Delicate fingers ran through his blonde hair, massaging lightly and making Jisung’s head fall towards you, seeing his eyes slowly close with contentment.

Both you and Minho watched with soft gazes as his snores filled the room, eyes eventually meeting with one another and lazily, happily smiling at one another. Unnoticed to either, but your breaths came to time with the sleeping blonde’s, chests rising and falling in a rhythm similar to that of a sleeping baby’s, not a care in the world.

Except maybe one care in the world.

Labels aren’t everything, having one doesn’t mean you are more or less to either Minho or Jisung and they love you regardless. It didn’t feel one sided— or in this case, three sided, however there was a lingering feeling that told you you just wanted reassurance. Being on the same page with Minho was the one thing that always needed to be obvious, it had to be one of the things you always knew you were on because he was already cautious and tip-toed every step he took.

His facial expressions don’t get easier to read, but body language always gives him away. Minho is a master masker, though that only ever applied to carefully chosen words and intonation. The way he busied his fingers twisting Jisung’s hair, lovingly caressed your belly and sides with his feet, but his shoulders were tense and kept his knees pressed together in such a way that couldn’t have been comfortable despite how hard he tried to present as such.

Breaking him from his thoughts in a manner that made him feel at ease or in control, you felt rather confident in doing. You silently point at a pillow at his side and he hands it to you wordlessly to place beneath your head. With hands free you could place one on top of his foot to stop his twiddling, his eyes softened and knew you were there if he needed.

You weren’t sure if he was thinking the same thing you were, but in a half whisper, spoke anyway. “There’s something else you haven’t asked me.”

Minho bit his lip and slowed his twiddling fingers, looking down briefly at the sleeping boy in his lap. “Did he ask?”

You nod, “you don’t have to, I don’t need it. But I wanna be at the same step as you, wherever you are, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” the corner of his mouth twitched upward, “why don’t you ask me instead?”

“I’m an intruder, give me permission to enter.”

“Baby, you’re our girlfriend, not a vampire.”

“Keep tossing that word around lightly ‘nd I’ll be allergic to garlic and holy water.”

“So you do need it.” He got you there, caught you tongue tied with that sly smirk and triumphant stare of his.

With a deep sigh, you reasoned, “I don’t need it. Like I said… just wanna be wherever you are.”

Minho’s eyes crinkled with his slanted smile, “come here and ask me.” He raised his feet up so you could stand, patting the little bit of couch space on his other side. As you sat as carefully as possible to avoid waking Jisung, Minho intertwined his fingers in your hair at the back of your neck, where he always tended to end up being.

Your body faced his and Jisung’s sleeping form, tops of your thighs pressed to his side and joining in pushing the blonde’s bangs from his face to admire. Minho could see the light flush across your cheeks as you thought of what you wanted to say, gently stealing away from Jisung to tip your chin in his direction. He waited, not verbally rushing you but also too giddy within his skin to not plead with his big, round eyes to hurry you up.

“Min,” he nodded rapidly, “will you—“

“Yes,” Minho pulled you by the chin to crash his lips against yours for a few electrically charged kisses. You pull away to giggle against him, “I didn’t finish the ques—“

“Ask me again,” he didn’t stop placing supple pecks to your lips, all the while smiling and keeping you close.

“Will you,” peck, “be my,” smooch, “boyfriend?”

“Yes,” press, “yes,” kiss, “yes,” a deep inhale to breathe in the happiness that radiated off of you. Minho obviously enjoyed how flustered the question made you, in particular loving how you smiled against his lips, as well. 

The snoozing boy below stirred, flipping to look up at where you and Minho were sharing the kiss. “What about meee?”

You couldn’t help but giggle against the brunette’s plump puckers before leaning down to kiss sleepy Jisung, Minho following as well, then deciding to turn in for the night. 

Somehow, the three of you managed to wrangle together to do as Jisung wanted, which was to go mattress shopping. He wanted the full experience, sheets, duvets, variety of pillows with different hardness and shape. Jumping from mattress to mattress, you had to hold his hand just to keep him nearby so as to not get lost. Aside from the mattress itself, the sheet thread count, and silk pillowcases, Jisung also requested a bed frame with sturdy posts. What that meant for you and Minho, the two of you shared a half worried, half excited look.

“Ours is a Queen, so King sized should be good enough. Nicee leg room,” Minho suggested as the three of you came closer and closer to the back of the store. Your arm was getting tugged in another direction as you tried to follow Minho, Jisung wanting to run off towards the accent blankets.

“Stay,” you instruct as you tug him back to your side. Turning back to the brunette, “is a California King too much to ask for?”

“Ooh, I want a California King,” Jisung held onto your arm to join in the conversation.

Minho only rolled his eyes at the pair of you, looking back at the row of king sized beds and sitting on the edge of one. He pressed his hand into it and examined the feeling, then suddenly hopped up and threw his entire body back into the center of the bed. You expected that from Jisung, but not Minho, and definitely not in public. Then he did it again, harder to the point that the flimsy display it was on shook beneath it.

Jisung let go of your hand and jumped onto the mattress next to him with Minho’s arms wide open to catch. “I like this one. However,” Jisung giggled as they both looked at you and made the littlest bit of room for you to join them. Minho wiggled his eyebrows and presented his hand over the little space. “You know you wanna,” he enticed further, and you just couldn’t help it, running the few steps forward and literally lept into their arms. The three of you were a fit of giggles as you maneuvered into your respective sleeping arrangements to make sure you all managed well.

The commotion caught the attention of a salesman and he strolled over with confusion, “can I… help you lot?”

With laughter in his voice, Jisung sat up, “yeah! We’ll take this one.”

Same day delivery came in clutch purely because the three of you were out $1,000 for the king sized mattress, plus the bedframe and whatever little things Jisung added to the cart at the last minute. You were surprised Minho’s card didn’t decline at the check out, the look on his face screamed that he was just as shocked.

It was nearly midnight when the three of you had finally worked together to finish tossing out the old mattress and frame, building the new one, and adding the finishing touches to your new ambiance. 

Stood at the foot of the bed, you all looked at it proudly. “Good job everyone. Good team work,” you nod your head and cross your arms over your shoulders, hearing your boyfriends high five behind your back.

Jisung yawned, “fuck, I’m fucking tired,” and hopped into the middle of the bed.

“Get off, you’re still in your outside clothes!” Minho scolded him but made no effort to remove the blonde.

“Make me,” Jisung smirked and raised an eyebrow, tucking his arms beneath his head.

You and Minho look at each other, reading each other's mind scarily in sync before coming after Jisung together. The blonde laughed as the two of you helped one another strip him, not bothering being gentle, “hey! This isn’t what I meant! I thought– ouch, Y/N! Watch the balls! Why are you always crushing my nuts?!”

Soon enough, you had Jisung with his naked back pressed to your chest with your other boyfriend kissing his way down. Your only job was to hold him down– for now. He shivered in your grasp with goosebumps covering the expanse of his skin. Minho looked up at the two of you through his bangs, big dark eyes starry and eager to please. It was a miracle Jisung wasn’t fighting back and was taking every command you gave, a nice change of pace. You enjoyed how well he listened, and Minho didn’t seem to mind taking orders from you, either.

“Sit still, baby. You asked for this. Take it like a champ. Or pussy out, it doesn’t matter to me. But,” Jisung whined before you could finish, clearly not liking your passive attitude. “I think our Min would be so disappointed if you didn’t let him play. After all, he did just buy you such an expensive gift. Isn’t that right, pretty kitty?”

The older smiled into the honey skin of Jisung’s inner thigh, paying no attention to how hard and twitching his cock was just centimeters away. “Mhm, it’d make me so sad,” Minho said softly as he paid as much attention to the other limb. Jisung fought your hold to thread through the brunette’s hair, not very hard, but enough to have to wrap your hand around his throat from behind.

“What’d I say? He hasn’t even touched you yet, don’t be a brat.”

As your fingers gripped tighter, “nah, that’s your job, pup.”

You squeezed tightly and tugged him slightly side ways so you cold peer over his shoulder, “that’s fucking right. You couldn’t handle what I could put you through if things were the other way around.”

Both of them were shocked at what was coming out of your mouth, Jisung’s jaw dropping into a stutter and Minho teething his pelvis to keep from laughing obnoxiously for doing what he never could– speak back.

“T– that’s not true,” his tone was already willing to give up that fight.

“You can’t even do this one thing, baby. Trust me, take what’s in front of you while you’ve got it,” the whisper of your voice made him shiver again and fall pliant against your body.

Spreading your legs, Jisung sat back more comfortably, visibly succumbing to the new role he was playing. Minho continued to watch your eyes as he touched the blonde everywhere but his cock, pinching his calves, biting his lower belly, licking stripes up and down his thighs until you finally nodded and singled for him to continue further.

Minho only stuck the tip of his tongue out to nudge at Jisung’s leaking red tip and the blonde threw his head back against your shoulder. One hand around his neck, you slithered the other to his nipple, hardly brushing over the already pebbled nub. Minho kept going, licking fatter and wetter strides of the muscle against the underside of Jisung’s dick, not caring for how much the younger mewled for more.

Minho was only listening to you tonight, and you had to admit the power was kinda getting to  your head. You let him do nothing but lick at the other like a popsicle until he was drooling to have something heavier in his mouth. Only when he reached out to place a hand on your shin did you nod again, and Minho took the entire length in one go.

Jisung struggled to not buck his hips up, tummy contracting and muscles flexing so tight you thought he wasn’t breathing.

“Watch him, baby. Watch him make you feel good. You want to repay him, don’t you? I thought you said you weren’t a brat. It’d be the kind thing to do.” Jisung grabbed onto your forearm that held his throat and continued to moan.

You’d always heard of phantom limb and how it was a true medical diagnosis, however you have all your home-grown appendages. Watching the way Minho slurped and sucked Jisung’s cock made your own core painfully throb like you could feel him taking you in his mouth, as well. You just knew it must be so warm, so slick and plush, you couldn’t even blame Jisung for not being able to do as you asked as you were having a hard time not touching yourself, too.

God, Minho looked so sexy with a dick in his mouth, more specifically Jisung’s pretty, pretty dick. The younger’s wonderfully built body was a sight for sore eyes, well defined abs on display like a washboard you imagined to be like your own. In no way are you displeased with your body, but it never hurts to fantasize. After all, you’re the only part of this throuple without a third leg, and you know Jisung would find it flattering that you used him to get off like this. You weren’t even really getting off, more like storing away some spank bank for later.

Your finger circled Jisung’s nipple a little harder, pinching when he got too rowdy and threatened to toss Minho off. The brunette took every instruction with a sly smirk, doing some of his best work without an inkling of punishment lingering over his shoulder.

Don’t get him wrong, Minho does things on purpose to get punished, you figured that out pretty quickly. But with you holding the reigns, he had no worries whatsoever. He was slobbering like a dog on Jisung’s cock, so messy you could see the glistening of mixed saliva and precum all over the lower half of his face. He used both hands to hold the other down as he deepthroated him, gagging and holding for as long as he could. Fuck, you felt that one right in your clit, sending shocks all throughout your body.

“Doesn’t he look so hot? Be polite, baby, tell him how he’s making you feel,” you say loud enough for them to hear you, simultaneously switching hands to play with his other nipple.

“Good– so good, fuck– wanna cum. Can I? Can I cum?” He was so whiney and voice so small, like he was scared you’d say no.

You looked to Minho, “what do you think kitty? Is baby allowed to cum?”

The brunette released his cock with a pop and a deep breath, “hmm… No.”

Jisung let out a loud, pained sob. “Y– you’re gonna regret that when I–”

“When you what? When we let you go? What makes you so sure we’re ever gonna do that?” Another whimper from Jisung and an approving nod, a muffled chuckle from a mouth full of cock from Minho. “Where did your manners go, baby? You haven’t even thanked our kitty for treating you like the little whore you are. You’re gonna make him think you just want his money.” Jisung quickly shook his head no in protest.

“Right, kitty? Is he just your sugar baby? Taking your money like you owe it to him?” Your stare down at Minho made him groan as well, grinding his hips into your brand new and freshly washed comforter.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t even thanked me.”

You all knew what you were saying wasn’t true, but it got both Jisung and Minho worked even further up. You had to tighten your grip on Jisung’s neck to the point where he was digging his nails into your skin to make him sit still. “You’re being rude, baby. I didn’t teach you that. Thank kitty for treating you so well.”

He tried, he really did, but could emit nothing but louder, more unfiltered moans. Honestly it made you proud, Minho was doing such a good job. But Jisung’s lesson was prioritized over the other’s praise for the time being, you’ll make sure to tell him after.

Minho worked faster taking him in deeper, bobbing up and down at a pace that would’ve strained your neck. But fuck was it making you so close to cumming just being able to watch, you weren’t even sure how Jisung has lasted this long. If you had a cock, you would’ve blown the second he took you in his mouth.

“It’s just three words, you can do it. ‘Thank you, kitty.’ Say it and maybe you can cum.”

You and Minho made eye contact again and he nodded briefly in agreement. Jisung was getting antsier and less responsive,you tweaked his nipple to get him to open his mouth.

“Th– thank you, kitty.” He said it like he was learning to speak for the first time.

“Cum.”

Minho moaned onto Jisung’s cock as the younger turned his head towards you, “kiss! Kiss me– Fuck, ‘m gonna cum– kiss–”

Jisung reached back to lock his fingers in your hair and tug you into a breathless kiss, absorbing every one of his whimpers as he bucked into the brunette’s mouth. It felt like it was you who was cumming hearing and feeling Jisung writhe in your arms, like you could feel yourself shooting hot white cum down Minho’s throat and feeling him attempt to swallow it with you still stuffing his mouth full. You needed the kiss just as badly, the only thing that could possibly ground you after another intense case of phantom dick.

Jisung let you go once he calmed down, falling entirely limp against your chest. Minho sat up, a clear wet stain at the front of his pants making you smile as he shuffled over to you and took your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He opened his mouth and showed you the pool of white fluid, pulling you in for a more graceful, just as sloppy kiss. His tongue pushed the cum past your lips and you could feel it drip down the corners of your mouth, running down your chin and neck. Tangy, salty, but somehow hints of sweet in the aftertaste as you broke the kiss and swallowed.

When you looked back at the blonde, he was watching the two of you with another longing gaze, he wanted in on the action. Minho placed a chaste, cum smeared kiss to his lips, then you bent over for one as well. Despite the sliminess, it was a heartfelt kiss, one that made the three of you giggle as you realized that Jisung was the only one naked but not the only one that came.

“What a way to christen the new bed,” you joked softly, nodding your head at the stain on Minho’s pants.

Minho simply laughed and swiped the tiniest bit of cum still on the corner of his lip, licking it off his finger like lingering dessert. “I think I like the new bed,” he hummed delightedly.

“All this newfound leg room and you both still decide on pinning me down in one spot.”

“Don’t be mad. You said make you, and we made you.” You reach for the box of tissues on the bedside table, handing one to them and wiping your faces semi clean.

Jisung shifted, rubbing his back against your pants and sitting up. “Wait… You’re both in outside clothes on the new bed.”

It was silent for a moment as you and Minho made eye contact. He beat you to the punch with a valid excuse, “I paid for it.”

Jisung narrowed his gaze up at you and you blanked. “I… I got nothing.”

The blonde sat up, scooting next to Minho and leaning his head on his shoulder. “Pretty kitty, I think our puppy got ahead of herself, and I don’t think we’ve broken in the bed enough yet. What were you saying about manners?”

☆ﾟ

A/M: god this took me so fucking long to update i’m so sorry

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuk @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Delayed package

Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Nikolai Gogol

Description: Right before BSD Cast got into your world, you ordered something. But, as it often happens, your package got delayed And, because of BSD Cast arrival and you moving out, you totally forgot about your package. Until one day, when it finally arrived.

Prequel to Two detectives in your bed

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

You were mindlessly browsing the Internet. The room was dark and only light from your laptop screen illuminated the room. Thankfully, you were on vacation and have as much free time as you want. You yawn and glance in your phone screen. It was 3:00 am.

Three months before BSD Cast Arrived to this world

___________

You, probably, should go to sleep. But, you don't want to.

Many students left to visit their families. They will spend holidays with theirs relatives. Parents, siblings, cousins, grandparents and others.

You don't have a place to return to. You were talking with your relatives, yes. But, they do show you, that no one want to see you.

You were alone.

You don't have friends. Because of your insecurities, you were afraid of making friends. You were afraid of making a mistake. Of being laughed at.

But you want to have someone. You don't want to be alone anymore.

A single sob escaped your lips. Holidays were the worst. No one around. You couldn't even watch TV and cuddle with a pet, because your landlord isn't allowed pets in the apartment.

You glance at your bed. Full of pillows and few plush toys. So you can cuddle them to sleep. Pretend, that you snuggle up with someone. That you are not alone.

It was a poor substitute, but beggars can't be choosers.

You shook your head and return to the screen.

Maybe, you could watch something. Maybe, you can rewatch your favorite BSD Moments?

You nodded to yourself and start typing the link of the site, where you watch BSD. It took a few moments for it to open. And, of course, there were ads.

Premium account, new book, anime figures, dakimakuras... What?

You scroll up, looking at the small colorful ad with pictures of a few body pillows with anime characters on it. Out of curiosity, you click on the ad.

A new site was opened in a new window. It looked normal. Menu with catalog and FAQ. Search bar. Online shop cart. Contacts. Site looked good.

Just for fun, you search for BSD dakimakuras. You don't forget to choose SFW prints only.

In few moments you got your results. It wasn't much, but, all of them looked good.

You scroll down, and saw, that two dakimakuras were on sale. With Fyodor Dostoevsky and Nikolai Gogol. You click on them, taking a better look.

According to information and reviews, the pillows were big and soft, the prints were colorful. Both dakimakuras were good.

You wonder if you should buy one.

They looked good for hugging.

You cast another glance on your bed.

Body pillow would be better, that many simple pillows.

After a quick search, you discover, that site, where you saw dakimakuras, were a legit one and wasn't scamming people.

You return to the site. You... could buy both Fyodor and Gogol pillows without worrying about your finances.

But, should you?

You stare at the screen.

Your apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

You were alone.

You click on "Add to cart" option.

_______

First month... Second month... Third month...

Shop apologize for loosing package and return money. They also allow you to keep the package, if, one day, it arrived.

Then BSD cast arrived in real world...

With them came friendship.

New home. New memories.

Camping trip with ADA. Scavenger hunt with Port Mafia. Shopping trip with The Guild. Visit to museum with Rats in the house of the Dead. Laser tug with Decay of Angels. Sport competition with Hunting Dogs. Homemade theater with kids.

Walks, movie nights, game nights.

Breakfasts, lunches, dinners.

And no more loneliness.

And you completely forgot about the package.

_____

You, Elise, Mori and Karma were ready to go.

Karma and Elise need something for school, so, you all decide to go on a small shopping trip.

Right before leaving the house, you got a notification. You check it.

It was from your previous neighbors. The big package with your name on it arrived in your old apartment. And neighbors asked you to hurry up and took it from them.

You frowned. You didn't remember ordering something on your old address. Still, you didn't want to make your neighbors wait. They were good neighbors. But, you will do busy these days and your old apartment are far away.

It seems, your worried expression didn't leave unnoticed. You heard Karma's soft voice.

"[Y/N]? Is everything alright?"

You nodded mindlessly. Mostly, it was alright.

"Yes, it's just... My previous neighbors got a package with my name on it. Ask me to take it as soon as I can."

Elise tucked her hair behind the ear. She tried to give you her best puppy dog eyes.

"So, we are going without you? But, [Y/N], without you, Rintarou will be unbearable!"

Mori stands behind Elise. He also looked a tiny bit sad. Thankfully, he didn't try to make puppy dog eyes on you. You would not bear looking at Port Mafia boss, who tried to beg like this for something.

"Elise-chan, [Y/N] will decide for themselves. And here I was planning to treat you all in a restaurant."

It is a blackmail!

You huffed. But, the problem still stands. Well, time to ask someone for help. You turned around and hurry to the living room.

"Will be back in a minute!"

____

You run into Fyodor and Nikolai in the living room. Nikolai was telling a story to Fyodor, actively gesticulating. Meanwhile, Fyodor was nodding from time to time, showing, that he is listening.

Noticing you, Nikolai stopped talking and waved. His smile became even bigger.

"Birdy! Good to see you. Do you decide to stay home with us? Great! Come on, sit down, right between Fedya and I!" Kolya patted the sofa next to where he was sitting. "We will keep you warm and comfy!"

It seems, Fyodor also liked the idea of you staying home. Unfortunately, you are needed. You will be an 'anchor' for Mori. Without you, he will go overboard with shopping and at the end of the day, instead of one adult, one teen and one child, three piles of bags will return home. You shake your head.

"Sorry, but I still must go. But I need help."

You explained, in a few words, what you need.

"So, can you two, please, go to my old apartment and take the package?"

Fyodor and Nikolai looked at each other, the Fyodor nodded.

"No problems, Myshonok. Just in case, should we check, what inside the package? To make sure it isn't damaged?"

You shrugged.

"Why not? Thanks, both of you. If you need anything, just call me."

You left the living room.

And soon you, Karma, Elise and Mori left the house.

Fifteen minutes later, Fyodor and Nikolai left to your old apartment.

______

You finally were back from your shopping trip. All of you get what you need and had lunch in a small restaurant.

You were ready to go to your room, when noticed, that there was a note on your bedroom door.

"[Y/N], please, go to my room. I will give you back your package. Fyodor D. P.S.: It would be nice to spend time together. You, Kolya and I."

You smiled. It was good, that everything went well. You decide to agree to spend some time with Fyodor and Nikolai as a 'thank you' for getting the package.

You walk into your room and changed in a what you call 'shuggly clothes for Fedya and Kolya'.

You were wearing a mouse kigurumi and a scarf, that Kolya gave you.

After getting ready, you go to Fyodor's room.

______

Something feels wrong.

Fyodor was unusually quiet. He locked the door behind you. Kolya wasn't here.

And something was laying behind Fedya's bed.

Fyodor turned towards you. His expression was neutral.

"Myshonok... Your package is here."

You nervously gulped. Did someone send something bad to you?

Fyodor took a piece of paper from his desk and hold it towards you.

"It came with the package."

You read the text.

And you were mortified.

You remembered ordering two dakimakuras almost a year ago. And lost package. And the prints.

You whined and looked at Fyodor.

He was holding them in his hands.

They were soft. They were real. They were in your house, and you don't have any idea what to do with them.

Fyodor were holding two big dakimakuras.

You take a step back. Only to crash into someone else's chest. You don't need to be a genius, to realize, that you were trapped between Fyodor and Nikolai.

Fyodor nodded a little.

Suddenly, a blanket was draped over you. And Nikolai was wrapping it around you tighter and tighter.

Five minutes later, everything was over.

_____

You were laying on Fyodor's bed. You were wrapped in a blanket. Like a candy. And you were stuck between Fyodor and Nikolai.

Fyodor was laying in front of you. His hand caress your face, slowly massaging it

Nikolai was laying behind you. He was spooning you, nibbling your earlobe from time to time.

And you feel, like you were on fire. They were so close. They were so soft.

And they were teasing.

Nikolai let go of your ear and whispered right into it.

"Tell me, Birdy, will this pillow ever kiss you during cuddles?" he returned to nibbling on your ear. You whimper.

"N-no, Kolya..."

Nikolai laughed and start paying attention to the spot right behind your ears.

You felt Fyodor's warm breath on your face. You close your eyes and his fingers started massaging your eyelids.

"Myshonok, will this pillow ever give you a massage during cuddles?"

You whimper again.

"No..."

Fyodor didn't answer, but, instead, softly kissed your eyelids.

Meanwhile, Nikolai chuckled.

"So, one point to us. No points to pillows. Next round."

Position was changed.

Now you were laying face to face with Nikolai. You felt Fyodor's breath on your neck, before he starts leaving small kisses on it. Nikolai's fingers run up and down your scalp, massaging it.

And you feel even more embarrassed.

Fyodor spoke again.

"So, do you want to explain, what the deal with the pillows?"

Once again, without waiting for your answer, Fyodor continues to lightly kiss your neck.

You spoke. Your voice was trembling.

"I... I didn't know... that you were self-aware... Order them almost a year ago... Forgot about it..."

Nikolai playfully boops your nose.

"And didn't know about the bonus pillow cases."

You nod. You feel even warmer now. Fyodor and Nikolai laughed. Fyodor started nibbling on your ear.

"I am not asking about that, Myshonok."

You were pretty sure, that you became ad hot as desert sand.

"I... I was so lonely... Before you arrived. I wanted to... Pretend, that I have someone in my life."

They were quiet. Then you felt Fyodor's lips on your cheek.

"Than today we will show you, that you will never be alone again, Myshonok"

Nikolai kissed the corner of your mouth.

"Don't worry, Birdy, we will take care of you. Just enjoy the warmth. And forget about the pillows."

Nikolai's grin became sly.

"But, please, remember, did you order pillow with us with... Adult print?"

You let out a muffled scream, hiding your face in Nikolai's chest.

You had a feeling, that they will never forget about dakimakuras.

______

What came next, you can describe with only one word. Heaven. Almost.

Without teasing about prints on pillows, it would be even grater.

You were warm.

You were cuddling with Fyodor and Nikolai.

One moment you were laying on Fyodor's chest, and he was showering your forehead in kisses.

The second moment, you were pressed against Nikolai's chest and he was kissing your hands.

You were pampered. You were caressed.

You weren't alone.

You fall asleep between Fyodor and Nikolai.

Safe. Sound. Not alone.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Pizzicato

Chapter Nineteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela, Dean/Cas (unrequited)

Other characters: Miriam Talbot (OFC Bela's mother)

Word Count: 2567

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, putting out other people's fires, and old baggage, unbeta'd

A/N: Castiel and Trouble's friendship is something I didn't realize she had been missing until he was in front of her. There are a couple of big truth bombs in this chapter and I hope I handled them respectfully. This is an AU and it is not indicative of this author's feelings on canon or any other fandom shipping practices.

Series Masterlist

Posting on Dean’s instagram account was par for the course as the band’s publicist. You bothered to know what a hashtag was, for one. For another it also allowed you to check traffic on posts and actively moderate things to help the comment section look best for Dean’s image. Afterall, Dean trusted you, you weren’t going to leak anything or make him look like an idiot.

You were a goddamn professional and this wasn’t the hardest thing you’d done in the last year, but Jesus fuck were you pissed.

Dean hated tattoos. Really, he hated needles. He was black out drunk when he and Sam got their matching flaming pentagrams. He actually had a panic attack the next morning after realizing he let someone “sew ink” into his skin. By sheer force of will and through the bond of shared grief, you got him to go with you for Jo’s memorial tattoo on the tenth anniversary of her death. It was in your all-time top five ultimate Dean-Y/N memories.

And now it meant jack shit.

You edited and cropped the photos, sent two back to Bela to post on her account and then posted the lion’s share onto Dean’s, making him look like the diligent boyfriend while Bela was busy in the chair. You thanked Billie for taking care of “his girl” and made sure the shop was the location and tagged. You wanted to punch something, it looked so good. Then you sat back and let the interwebs do its job.

Okay, in actuality, you emailed about twenty different people, had a conference call with the tour management marketing team, scheduled radio station drop ins and followed up with Meg on the expected release of Dean’s photoshoot and interview. These days it may just end up online, but you hoped she was able to score him real physical print space.

It was just as you were winding down for the night, when your phone rang. It was past any reasonable business hours and you were already done with your skin care routine, but then you saw the caller id.

“Miriam! Hi!” You tried to sound pleasantly surprised.

“Don’t Miriam me, young lady. What is going on out there? Is it drugs? I thought we missed this stage when she quit acting for college. You’d tell me if this hoodlum was pressuring her into risky behavior wouldn’t you?”

Which was a lot to unpack right off the bat like that, luckily you had experience dealing with Bela’s mother.

“It’s just a tattoo. She’s not on drugs, I promise.”

“And what about this Dean? I knew they were seeing each other, but this seemed a bit more intimate— not exactly in the public eye.”

Oh, she was good.

“He’s not on drugs either. And—- he actually isn’t thrilled with tattoos. This might be all Bela, if I’m being honest.”

“Have you seen the things they’re saying? The things they’re calling her, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes and heaved yourself out of bed, you needed your laptop if you were going to continue this conversation rationally. 

“Let me look into it— what site were you on?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. Olivette, one of the boardmember’s wives, told me she read about it online during dinner.”

You inhaled deeply and started your usual rotation of sites, you’d have to add some new tags to follow Bela’s buzz more closely going forward. 

“And you’re sure this wasn’t just bad blood from Olivia? I’m not finding much besides general surprise.”

“It’s Olivette. And yes, I’m certain. She wouldn’t make me worry without a reason.”

And then you realized what you were missing, it wasn’t just People or TMZ you had to worry about. You went to Hello!’s twitter and you found what had Miriam Talbot’s friend in a huff. 

You started scanning the comments, gathering the most common complaints and judging their amount of influence via cursory glances. You did not know a lot of the news personalities or celebrity bloggers in the UK. You were going to have to meet with Bela and figure out a better approach going forward.

“Okay, Miriam, it’s almost eleven here. I know you probably called me as soon as you woke up, but consider me on the case. Alright? Bela’s fine and this is just a minor hiccup.”

“If you’re sure, Y/N, dear.”

You sighed. “Of course. I would warn you if there was anything to worry about. But please just let this run its course. You know how the tabloids are.”

“Unfortunately I do, that’s why I called. Please keep me updated if anything else comes up?”

“Will do. You have a good ni-day!”

“Goodnight dear— and thank you.”

You smiled at your lap. “Anytime.”

You let her hang up. Then you promptly pulled up your contacts list and warned Bela that her mother was sniffing about online and to call her at a decent hour. And finally, you spent the next four hours (or so) online until you had swam to the bottom of the cesspool and decided it wasn’t worth your time. At least not right then, not so exhausted.

Three days passed since the snobby UK gossip rags’ judgment rained down and, as expected, it had already just about fizzled out. You sat in a cafe with a quad shot flat white, waiting for your lunch date to arrive. Not truly a date, though it wasn’t a meeting either.

It was a diplomatic mission.

Then you spotted him and your stomach swooped, feeling the loss of his presence in your life all over again.

“Hey, Cas.” You stood and held your arms open for a hug, which he accepted with a timid smile.

“It’s good to see you, Trouble,” his gravelly voice murmured in your ear. He still smelled the same.

You pulled back and looked him in the eye, searching for anything but the sincere blue reality in front of you. He held no grudges, not with you, without even discussing it you knew he was still your friend. 

You then punched him squarely in the shoulder. “That’s for ghosting us all for the last nine months, assbutt!”

He grunted, and rolled his eyes. “I can accept that.”

“Good. Because I missed you. We all miss you.”

He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“So— heard you have a kid, huh. That’s —- weird.”

Castiel exhaled and shook his head. “Who told you?”

“What? Nobody. I have eyes. And spend enough time online to draw some conclusions.”

“Kelly told you.”

“She didn’t have to. She’s amazing by the way— are you a thing now, now that you know he exists?”

Castiel looked affronted. “Me and Kelly? Oh, no. That was a teenage mistake. We were young. And we’ve both matured into vastly different people. But I respect her and I think— I hope I’ve earned her trust.”

“Tell me about him—- he’s what? Twenty-twenty one?”

“He’s twenty three and very talented. Kind, impossibly optimistic even.”

“Yikes, tough combo out here.”

“Tell me about it.”

You shared a look and he smiled at you like he knew what you were thinking about. Like you were reliving the same joke.

You blinked away the sting in your eyes.

“Go get your dark roast and get back over here, we’ve got things to discuss.”

His eyes softened, but Cas didn’t argue with you.

You sipped your drink and tried not to let all of the questions that had been building for months run away from you. He was back both too quickly and too slowly. You cleared your throat, the awkwardness you had been fighting back rushed to the surface.

“So— I presume there is more to you calling to get lunch. Not just asking about Jack and goading me about my latest tattoo?” Cas wasn’t one for small talk.

You nodded and swallowed around another perfect mouthful of milk and espresso.

Castiel’s face went through a journey when you didn’t quickly reply. “He doesn’t want to see me—- he made that quite clear.”

“And what about since everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know Dean’s called you. He might not have been big enough to actually apologize in a voicemail, but I know he wants to fix things— he misses you as his friend, too.”

“Then he should be able to suck up his pride and make the effort,” Cas snipped, the first sign of the lingering anger from his and Dean’s fight.

“I haven’t exactly seen much of your effort. Do you not want to fix things?--- And I’m not talking about coming back to the band— that ship has sailed. I’m talking about twenty years of friendships you just walked out on.”

Cas stared at his coffee, his eyebrow ring arched with his bitchy expression. He hated being corrected, you knew that. But this had gone on long enough.

“I’ve spoken with everyone but Dean,” Cas explained. “It’s not perfect, but it’s progress.”

“You never spoke to me,” you spat.

Cas’ eyes softened again. “I always knew where your loyalties lie, you took your time, too.”

“Wait— even SAM?!”

“Sam and I haven’t lost contact this whole time.”

You sucked in air. “Oh, he is so dead.”

“Y/N. It wasn’t like we were plotting or anything. He was worried about me, I was worried about Dean.”

“Yeah, but if Dean knew—”

“Ask Sam, but I don’t think he could hide anything from Dean if he wanted to.”

You knew he was right. Ever since Sam got sober, transparency had been something Sam put into his closest relationships anyway. Beside Dean being ruthless and stubborn, well, you supposed Cas was right. 

“Why do I feel like this band just doesn’t want me to be able to do my job?”

“Your position as group therapist is fairly tenuous. Especially with Pamela involved.”

“I meant my real job. If I had known you were on decent terms with, well, everyone but Dean, it would have made things a lot easier, young man.” You couldn’t help but smile now. Sure you were hurt, but the eggshells you had been stepping over for so long really only took up a single corner of the floor.

It was freeing.

“I never meant to cause you any distress.”

“That doesn’t make it go away, Cas.”

He bowed his head, but popped back up to meet your gaze. “I know. I apologize. I didn’t want you to think that I was done— with any of you.”

You pinched your eyes closed quickly and then reached over the table to squeeze his forearm. “Okay. So— you’ll come to Dean’s birthday party, then?”

Cas patted your hand with his left and sat back, breaking the contact and sat with the invitation for a heavy moment.

“What makes you think he’d want me there?”

You glared at him, all tattooed and handsome and absolutely clueless about how much his absence has affected Dean. Sure, Dean got to keep the band, but it wasn’t the same without Cas. Cas has had to start over entirely, become a dad and rebuild his career all without any of the support Dean has had around him through his own troubles.

“Look— I know you’re Mister Independent and I don’t want to set back any of the progress you’ve made without him needing you around. But he still looks for you whenever we all go out. And hanging out with Kevin, made it abundantly clear to him that you were available— you just weren’t interested.”

“Why do you always make it sound like we were an item?”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, we all know Dean has attachment issues. I’m not saying anything was kinky between you guys— that’s not my business. But, as friends, you guys deserve to at least get some answers— closure or forgiveness can come later, if you get there.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that to get me off your case?”

“Yes, really.”

You smirked and Cas’ smiled with his eyes, fidgeting his lip ring with his tongue.

Cas cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee before changing gears. “So, your friend Bela and, uh, Dean?”

You groaned and hid your eyes in your hand. When you looked up he was laughing at you.

“What?!”

“Stop— we both know what it’s all about.”

“Kevin seems to think Dean’s whipped.” Mischief continued to dance in Cas’ eyes.

“Well, it’s about time.”

“I told him, the only one who has had Dean whipped in over a decade is you.”

You choked on your spit, sputtering at Cas’ bluntness.

“They don’t know it’s for show do they?”

You inhaled deeply. “Sam knows. Dean and Bela have their own private agreement about it all. But, uh, yeah, you pretty much guessed right.”

Cas watched you thoughtfully, futzing with his lip ring with his top teeth now. 

“How are you holding up?”

“Me? I’m fine, why?”

Cas nudged your ankle under the table with his combat boot.

“As someone who was definitely in love with him for most of my life— I know the symptoms.”

You sighed and shivered at being seen and having your long held suspicions confirmed. You rubbed your upper arm, trying to fight the goosebumps. “I’m fine. Nothing has changed. He’s just been working on himself and that is— distracting.”

Cas hummed, head cocking to the side as if looking at you with a different angle would give him more insight.

“I mean it. He’s in therapy and everything. Sam and him are working out. He’s been insanely focused on the latest album—”

“He’s doing penance.”

“Maybe. But he wants to be better. It’s not just guilt. I don’t know how to explain it. But, you’ll see what I mean.”

Cas eyebrow popped up again.

“You will,” you insisted.

“You always were able to read me weren’t you?”

You chuckled at the back of your mouth, short and knowing. “Guess it comes with being stuck with each other for so long.”

“Shared trauma response,” Cas teased.

“Or that.”

You finished the last of your drink and looked around the cafe.

“So, where we going to eat? I think we’ve had enough heavy— sushi?”

“You buying?”

“Phantom Traveler is covering this as a business lunch.”

Cas stood and pushed in his chair. “Okay, well then, bring on the seafood.”

You stood and let Cas walk you outside, his hand on the small of your back until he could offer you his elbow on the sidewalk. You smiled up at him and pulled him tight to your side.

“I’m glad you’re back, Cas.”

“Well, we’ll see if everyone agrees with you, won’t we?”

The afternoon passed quickly, catching up and sharing memories that were now tinted with the grief of the last lost year. Things made more sense the longer you thought about how the band had been acting, especially way back at the Animal Shelter where Cas’ niece had been more than willing to put in her two cents. You texted Sam while you waited for your meals, warning him where you were and what you knew.

‘Have fun.’

His only response. Asshole.

But everything kept from you, kept from Dean, wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t. Now you at least could control the narrative a bit more by being in on it all. Or most of it at least.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Twenty: Arpeggio

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Caution

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1655

Summary: You and Bucky were online shopping and stumbled upon funny underwear. Without the other knowing you each purchase a pair. How will you each react to the silliness?

Warnings: Fluff, silliness, (s)mut, (o)ral (F & M), Daddy (K)ink

A/N: This is just a silly fic I wrote do to the photo above that Amazon advertised on my FB page lol.

A/N 2: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo​

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. Even if you leave an emoji you will make my day. 😊💜  

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

You were on the couch surfing around Amazon when you found something that caught your eye. You lightly chuckled to yourself but Bucky who was on his laptop stopped working.

“What are you laughing at pretty girl?” Bucky's voice was deep and had a hint of amusement behind it.

“Oh nothing, just found something amusing online.” You clicked “buy now” and thanks to Prime it was going to arrive the next day. “What are you up to? Almost done with work?”

Bucky’s face heated up in what looked to be embarrassment as he did a couple of clicks and slammed his laptop closed. “Oh yeah, I’m all done now.”

“Care to share what made you all red? Looking at something sexy?”

“On the computer? Don’t be like that, I have exactly what I want. She is sexy, smart, funny, beautiful, and all mine.”

Bucky got up from the table and slowly stalked over to you. You set your laptop on the coffee table as he dropped onto the couch caging you in.

“Let’s say we take this in the bedroom and I show you how sexy you are.” Bucky huskily spoke in your ear before sitting up and pulling you with him. He tossed you over his shoulder and carried you to bed.

The next day you checked the mail and noticed two packages, one addressed to you and the other to Bucky. You opened yours and took a look at the pair of panties you bought. You chuckled to yourself as you made your way to wash and dry them.

Later when they were cleaned and dried Bucky came home. You saw him take his package and disappeared. After a few minutes, you heard the washer going. He must have bought a shirt you thought to yourself. As you go about your evening cooking for the both of you Bucky scurries past you with an article of clothing. You couldn’t see what he was carrying but you didn’t think much of it. 

After dinner, you and Bucky relaxed on the couch watching tv until bedtime. You yawned and stretched looking up at Bucky. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“Sounds good sweetheart I will be right behind you.” Bucky smiled at you as you headed towards the bedroom. Once you reached the bedroom you quickly went to your dresser and pulled out the panties. Then you went to Bucky’s closet and pulled out one of his henleys. This was going to be perfect.

Heading to the bathroom you did your nightly routine of getting ready for bed. You caught a glimpse of Bucky grabbing boxer briefs from his dresser. He went to get changed as you were finishing up. When you were done you seductively walked out to see Bucky shirtless and under the covers. As you reached the end of the bed you crawled up the bed to him, swaying your hips while he bit his lip looking at you. You crawled up his body and sat on his hips. 

“God sweetheart, you look good enough to eat. But first I want my henley off you.” He slowly slid the shirt up your body and pulled it off of you leaving you only in your panties. His eyes took in your half-naked form and as his eyes scanned over you they landed on the panties. “Caution slippery when wet?” That had Bucky laughing hard. You joined him in laughing together.

“What, you don’t like my new panties?” You say in between giggles, your eyebrows wiggled as he continued to laugh.

“No, it’s not that doll. It’s just that… climb off my lap for a minute.” You crawled off and sat next to him. Bucky pulled down the covers and your eyes went wide. You started to laugh hysterically as you saw his boxer briefs that read “caution choking hazard.” 

You fell to the bed laughing knowing you each bought the same product. The odds of buying the same thing were astronomical. Both your laughter started to calm down as you rolled over to your side to look at him.

“We really are meant to be together,” you say while smiling at him.

“That we are sweetheart. So do I get to see if your caution sign is real? You wet for me?” Bucky’s voice dropped an octave and you swore you grew wet instantly for him. 

You shook your head no. “I want to see if what you have underneath is a choking hazard first.” Your hand caressed the bulge that the boxer briefs were hiding. Sitting up, you pulled the boxer briefs off Bucky and threw them onto the floor. Your eyes took in the size of his cock and your mouth watered. You lean down and lick the tip of his cock causing him to shudder. Your eyes lock with his blue ones as you slowly take him in your mouth. What your mouth couldn’t finish taking your hand wrapped around him to stroke his length. Up and down you sucked him down. Every now and then taking more of him in until he reaches your throat. The first time he hits your throat you gag around him, tears filling your eyes, and that pulls a groan from Bucky. You relax your throat the best you can as you go up and down on him. Bucky fists his hands in your hair as you continue to bob your head as his cock works down your throat. Your eyes are tearing up the more you choke around him. You cupped his sack and started to fondle them as you swirled your tongue around him. This made Bucky let out a moan. Up and down, faster and faster you go until finally Bucky cums with a shout of your name. He tenses up as rope after rope of cum goes down your throat. You make sure you get every last drop and swallow. 

“Fuck sweetheart that was amazing.” Bucky looks down at you and sees your teary eyes and he swears you’re beautiful just the way you look. “Now let me see if it's really slippery while wet between those thighs. Bucky lays you down on the bed and makes his way between your legs. He rubs your panties and smiles up at you. “You’re soaked doll. I’m going in for a closer inspection. Pulling your panties down your legs he throws the pair on the floor with his boxer briefs. 

Bucky puts both your legs over his shoulders so you are wide open for him. Leaning down he does his first lap of your wetness. When you groan he parts your lips and does it again. His tongue feels amazing as he starts to eat you like a man starved. His beard is starting to get wet the more he dives back in and takes you apart. You start panting out his name as his fingers replace his tongue and his mouth finds your clit. Your back lightly arches as his two fingers fuck you in earnest. Your silky walls keep pulling his fingers back inside you as your breaths start picking up. 

He knows you are close and he is patiently waiting for you to crest that mountain. His mouth latches on to your clit and he sucks it, his tongue flicking it every other time. Finally, he gives you what you want and rubs against your sweet spot deep inside you. In moments you are crying out his name as you cum for him. His mouth continues to eat you out until you are pulling on his hair as your hips stop rocking against him. Bucky pulls away gently, kneeling between your legs and you see his beard is completely soaked. 

He is licking his lips as he flips you over onto your stomach and pulls your hips up. “Someone completely soaked my beard and god do I love it.” In one fluid motion, Bucky was sinking deep inside your core. He sets a firm, deep pace as he wants to pull the most noises out of you that drive him wild. Every thrust in and out has you begging for more.

“Bu-Bucky…Harder, please!” Your fingers hold onto the sheets underneath you as Bucky starts to plow harder into you.

“Is this what my doll wants? Daddy deep inside her pussy? Want me to fuck you stupid?” He asks in that deep voice you love so much.

“Yes! Please, Daddy. I need it, I need you!”

Bucky obliges, going deeper and harder. Skin slapping against skin fills the air and takes you apart. Your whines and moans are music to his ears as he fucks you with earnest. Every time your pussy tightens around his cock Bucky lets out a growl. Your whines keep getting louder and louder until finally, you’re cumming around his cock. A few more hard strokes and Bucky is right behind you cumming deep inside you. After a few lazy thrusts, he pulls out of you and both of you collapse on the bed.

“Buying those panties was one of your best ideas sweetheart,” Bucky says as he kisses your shoulder. 

Catching your breath you smile at him. “Those boxer briefs were perfect. We need to do this again sometime.” Bucky nods his head as he gets out of bed to grab a washcloth for you to clean with. Once you've cleaned up you crawl under the covers with Bucky right behind you. He spoons you from behind and kisses your neck.

“Good night sweetheart,” he breathes against your neck.

“Goodnight Buck,” you whisper before you fall asleep.

Tags:

@americasass81

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@caffiend-queen​

@charmed-asylum

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

@georgiapeach30513

@get0verit

@hollybee8917

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jvanilly

@labella420

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog

@madscape

@mdemontespan1667

@mrsmischief209

@mycrazyasslikestoread

@nekoannie-chan

@notyourtypicalrose

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@wolfsmom1

@what-is-your-plan-today

@writercole

@missvelvetsstuff

@jtargaryen18

@caplanbuckybarnes

[liamthemailman]

♠️♥️House of Cards♣️♦️

Act Two Part Four - Back Online

CW: Violence and injury, minor character death

“There it fucking is.”

Ace trudges forth into a small hidden clearing where a ground receiver sits, covered in snow and dead icy undergrowth. He holsters his gun and kneels down, feeling the ice melt into the fabric of his pants. He shudders, his breath fogging as they escape from his lips.

He reaches into his bag for the tools he brought along, his other hand brushing the debris off the satellite dish. Ace looks over the generator to assess for any further damages but it just seems like the signal was disrupted because the boom arm was dislodged from its place. It looked like the work of several people.

Hopefully it isn’t, Ace thinks. It would be another issue and a half if the enemy had stumbled across this site. He only figured they hadn’t because intel reports that none of the patrol routes were near this clearing but the prints in the snow didn’t suggest it was the work of a passing animal. Ace put the boom arm into place, giving the base unit a good pat as he hooked his laptop to boot up the software.

Watching the progress bar extend slowly was a bit of a bore. The flashing line seemingly taunted Ace as it slowed to a stop at about the halfway mark. He sighed, letting out a groan of frustration before turning his attention to look over his shoulder.

From the beginning of this mission, Ace had felt eyes on him throughout as he traversed the cold terrain. Again, Ace chalks it up to him being truly alone with no way to reach back to base but that didn’t really stop his mind from trailing as he sat and listened to the eerie silence of the environment.

Ace had never been one for the wilderness but he suspects something is lurking nearby. Mother Nature isn’t exactly known for her silence, especially in the desolate snowy landscape Ace finds himself in. A single cry of a lone crow shrieks overhead, tearing into the still air. Ace watches as the bird disappears between the towering peaks of the pines.

A chill causes the hairs on the back of Ace’s neck to stand. He shudders, eyeing the screen out the corner of his vision as he readjusts his scarf. The same heavy dread looms over his shoulders as Ace watches the progress bar inch closer to the end. He forgets the dread for a moment, readying his comm device to report back to HQ and call for exfil.

The line crackles to life as Ace powers it on again, static ringing in the air as Ace counts down the last few remaining seconds. He winces, busying himself as he fiddles with his GPS.

“HQ, this is Ace. Objective has been completed and requesting exfil.” Ace says, his voice rumbling into the microphone as he pushes down the push to talk. 

“Roger, meet you at the LZ in ten minutes.”

Ace was met with the same irritating static for a second but he was back online and transport had been secured, allowing Ace to start to pack up shop.

He was met with silence again, the only sounds being the zipper of his bag as he finished up, securing his laptop back inside. This seemed easy enough, Ace thought to himself.

The crunch of snow doesn’t go unnoticed in Ace’s bustling actions, whipping his head towards the source quick enough for a bullet to just miss his face. The sound cracks through the otherwise peaceful scene, sending birds away from their spots in the trees.

Jumping back, Ace scrambles for his gun as his assailant takes aim again. Adrenaline rushes through his veins as Ace’s finger finds the trigger but it was a split second too late. Another gunshot is fired and Ace lands awkwardly, holding in his grunt as the bullet lodges into his knee. He grunts, pain searing through his body like fire.

His attacker mutters something into his jacket collar, possibly reporting back to his own men or calling for backup for whatever reason. Not to be beaten again, Ace points the muzzle of his gun towards his enemy. His finger barely squeezes the trigger before the armed enemy before him gets his head blown open.

Ace watches with wide eyes as the body descends with the red mist still hanging in the air, flopping sideways and sinking into the snow. He wasn’t the one with the smoking gun. Ace whips his head towards the side where the bullet could have some from.

There in the distant horizon where the top of the snowy hill was beginning to be bathed in golden sunset light, the glint of a sniper’s scope. It was small, almost unnoticeable if not a little annoying now that Ace noticed it, the sight almost familiar. He didn’t even know he would be getting sniper support, seeing that King had sent him on a solo mission.

The sounds of several men rapidly approaching his location brought Ace out of his trance. He stumbles to his feet, hissing at the sharp pain in his knee. The bastard could literally have shot him elsewhere. Ace doesn’t waste another second, limping towards the pickup point. Just when things were starting to look up.

Ace disappears back between the trees, weaving between the trees and crouching into bushes, careful not to leave a trail of red in his wake as he hobbles along. He watches as the earlier patrol passes his hiding spot, hand on his gun in case their mutt manages to sniff him out.

With bated breath, Ace stalks the enemies as they disappear from sight and from there makes a dash for the LZ. He turns back a final time just in time to watch the glint disappear from its spot just as the sound of a chopper overhead is heard.

“God,” Ace thinks to himself as he clambers into the helo, wincing as he assesses his injury. "I need a bloody break.”

Quicksaving...

[thedemoninmywalls]

10 for the nsft kink prompts!! :3

- @freakkisser

10: Humiliation Fic under the cut! <3

After a long day at work, Aro was looking forward to coming home and making dinner. She hadn't eaten a thing since lunchtime, not even a snack. On her way home she was already thinking about what food she had and what to cook.

So she was pretty surprised to find, upon entering her apartment, that her kitchen was completely empty.

The shelves were bare and the fridge was all cleaned out. The whole kitchen was as empty and clean as the day she moved in.

Aro blinked, rubbed her eyes, and then looked again. She ran her hands over the counters and the shelves in the fridge. There was simply nothing there. She turned on the sink to get a drink of water, but even that wasn't working.

Her kitchen had been quite full this morning, but now there wasn't a speck of food or water in the whole apartment.

Of course, there was only one possible explanation for this. Predictably, Rire was sitting in the living room, sipping tea.

“What the hell did you do to my kitchen?” Aro demanded, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.

“What? Don't you like how clean it is?” he smiled, feigning innocence.

“Where is all my food?” Aro asked in an exasperated tone. She could tell he was going to be difficult.

“Somewhere safe,” Rire assured her. “You’ll get it back if you behave.”

Ah. She should have known. He was gonna hold her food hostage until she did what he asked.

“What do you want?” she demanded impatiently.

Rire smirked, confident that he had the upper hand, as usual.

“Get your collar,” he ordered.

Aro made a face. “I hate the collar.”

“Then you won't eat tonight,” he replied decisively.

Groaning in frustration, Aro dragged her feet to the bedroom. She fetched the collar and its leash from the nightstand and returned to the living room.

“Just don't make it too tight, please?”

“Kneel.”

Aro kneeled, staying obediently still while Rire clasped the collar around her neck. It wasn't tight enough to choke her, but tight enough to press against her throat. With the leash tightly wound around Rire’s hand, it would only take a little tug to restrict Aro’s breathing.

The collar had a little metal dog tag that read “pet” and jingled whenever she moved. It was humiliating to wear, which was probably why Rire liked it.

“Now what?” Aro asked, pulling at the collar to loosen it.

“Now we will try something new,” Rire’s yellow eyes brightened with mischief. “I saw it online today and thought it would be just perfect for us.”

“What is it?” Aro was wary. Rire's new ideas were usually not very pleasant for her.

“It's better to show you,” Rire dug into a plastic shopping bag and pulled out two foam balls.

“Hold these and squeeze tightly,” he instructed, placing a ball in each of her hands.

Aro obeyed, unsure what he was getting at. Rire took out a thick roll of duct tape and wound it around her closed fists. Long strips of sticky tape, all around her fingers and almost up to her wrists. When he was done, she couldn't move her fingers an inch. Her hands were nothing more than useless balls of tape.

“Um…” Aro stared at her tape mittens bewilderedly.

Rire opened Aro's laptop and navigated to the sketchy dark web video site where he watched Ren’s livestreams.

“Come here,” he ordered gently, pulling Aro onto his lap.

She sat and watched as he pressed play on a torture porn video. By now she’d been forced to watch enough of them that she was starting to get desensitized. Now she hardly flinched when the killer onscreen smashed a woman's leg with a sledgehammer.

While they were watching, Rire’s hands sneaked under her shirt and began to play with her nipples. He pinched and rubbed the soft nubs of flesh until they were erect and stimulated.

From where she sat on his lap, Aro felt Rire’s erection beneath his pants, poking against her ass. He liked to make her needy and aroused while watching torture porn, so that she associated the pleasure with pain.

“Mmm,” Aro moaned softly, leaning into his touch. Unconsciously, she went to touch her sex - and remembered the tape around her hands. Without the use of her fingers, she couldn't get her skirt off.

“Mph…Rire…” Aro grinded herself against his lap, hoping for some friction.

“What is it?”

“I-I can't…” she lifted her tape mittens, humiliated by their uselessness.

“I want you to touch me…please,” Aro mumbled, red from embarrassment.

“Of course,” Rire effortlessly slipped his fingers under her skirt and entered her.

“My poor little pet can't touch herself when her hands are all taped up, hm?” He snickered in her ear. “How pathetic. You need your master to do everything for you, isn't that right, little one?”

Aro started to respond, but then Rire’s fingers rubbed against her clit and she gasped instead.

“Nngh - fuck -” Aro moaned louder, shifting her hips against his hand. He tugged on the leash so the collar pressed hard against her throat.

“Good toy…that's my good toy,” he breathed into her neck as he fucked her with his fingers.

She came after only a few minutes, her wetness spilling all over Rire's hand.

“What a mess,” Rire tsked. “Did you ever taste yourself?”

He poked his fingers into her mouth and made her lick his whole hand clean. The taste of her own cum was strange and reminded Aro that she was thirsty. She longed for water to wash the taste away.

“You humans are just too easy,” Rire teased as he turned off the video. “Just a few touches is all it takes to make you melt. So weak and worthless. You're good for nothing except pleasing your master.”

Aro slipped off his lap and turned to face him.

“I-I did everything you asked,” she whimpered. “Please, I need water…and food…”

“Of course,” Rire snapped his fingers. “Everything has returned to the kitchen. You may help yourself…”

He grinned evilly. “But you may not take the tape off your hands. If you try to take it off, I will hurt you.”

It was at that moment, of course, that Aro’s stomach growled quite loudly. Her insides felt pinched from hunger. If she wasn't starving, she might have defied Rire and marched into the kitchen, tape mittens and all.

But now hunger had eroded her dignity. It was humiliating to depend on him, but it would be even more humiliating to try getting food and water without the use of her hands.

Her vision blurred, and Aro realized that hot tears of frustration and embarrassment were running down her cheeks.

“Please,” she begged. “I can't do it by myself. Please help me…I’m so hungry. I just need a little food and water. I'll do anything.”

“Anything?” Rire's eyebrows raised in amusement. “What can you possibly offer me that I don't have already?”

“I don't know!” Aro sobbed. She tried to wipe away her tears with her useless tape mittens. She hated crying in front of him, but now that she started, she couldn't stop.

Rire watched her cry for a while before he finally felt pity. He stood up from the couch and led her away with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Come, my pet…let's get you something to eat.”

[dykeseinfeld]

please please please may i ask how/where you managed to acquire cassette tapes & player & how do you record onto them because that sounds cool as FUCK and id love to do something similar but i can’t find anything about burning tapes or even buying them anywhere (or even burning cds tbh)

i got the cassette tape player from retrospekt! they sell a lot of refurbished vintage tech including diff kinds of walkmen and record players and film cameras and tbh. everything's a Little expensive and there are cheaper options out there, but i saw they had very consistently good reviews on products showing up and actually working and i was paranoid abt getting something that doesn't work And i don't know how to fix. i chose the peanuts beagle scouts one for $99, but they have other refurbished and even a couple newer tape players that have bluetooth and such for a bit more money, whatever she's cute

as for casette tapes themselves i already had a bunch bc a lot of record shops will have a section that sells them for like $1-5, and i liked to pick up movie soundtracks as a cool way to have merch even before i could play them at all lol. even if i don't want to listen to the tape, i figured i could record over them with anything i want, but this option are used tho and most of those will be decades old and thus quite warped and fucked, so i finally caved bought a pack of 10 tapes on amazon for like $15 which is still not bad at all (retrospekt and other online sites sell prerecorded cassette tape albums of more modern stuff but they are SO overpriced when you see how cheap blank/used ones are)

for recording over a cassette tape it's very easy, especially if you don't mind your music sounding super fucking shitty lmao. (if you want high quality recording tips i recommend reddit's r/cassetteculture, tho they are all gearheads and spend a lot more money on dedicated tape decks and such than i'm willing to).

get your tape. identify whether it's blank, or if it is a pre-existing tape you're recording over. if blank, skip to step 3.

you're going to see two holes on the outside edges (picture below). these are what prevent a pre-existing tape from being overwritten, so you're going to want to straight up just cover these up (i use scotch tape, shoving crumpled up paper in there also works)

3. grab a male-to-male audio jack (i got mine at best buy). plug one end into the headphone jack of your laptop, the other end into the microphone jack of your cassette tape player. 4. make sure the audio output of your laptop is to "outside headphones" (aka your cassette tape). hit record, and press play on your music! that's it.

side note: if you are recording over! i recommend first recording over both sides completely with silence, just to minimize on ghosting and to straighten out the tape a lil

regardless the audio will be janky, but adjusting what volume the output is helps a lil. idk i'm a Super Novice who is basically in this for the aesthetic and so that i have an excuse not to bring my phone to the library

[fekramarketing]

Boost Sales: Responsive Web Design & Ecommerce App Development 

In the fast-paced world of online retail, staying ahead of the competition requires more than just offering great products and services. Your digital presence plays a crucial role in attracting and retaining customers. Two key elements that can significantly boost your sales are responsive web design and ecommerce app development. By focusing on these aspects, you can enhance the user experience, improve accessibility, and ultimately drive more conversions. In this article, we'll explore how responsive web design and ecommerce app development can transform your online business and lead to increased sales. 

1. The Importance of Responsive Web Design 

Responsive web design is a design approach that ensures your website looks and functions well across all devices, including desktops, laptops, tablets, and smartphones. With the increasing use of mobile devices for online shopping, having a responsive website is no longer optional—it's essential. 

Why Responsive Web Design Matters: 

Enhanced User Experience: A responsive website automatically adjusts to fit the screen size of the device being used. This means that whether your customers are browsing on a smartphone or a large desktop monitor, they will have a seamless and enjoyable experience. A positive user experience is crucial for keeping visitors on your site and encouraging them to explore your products or services further. 

Improved SEO Performance: Search engines like Google prioritize websites that offer a good user experience across all devices. Responsive web design is a key factor in achieving higher search engine rankings. By ensuring your website is mobile-friendly, you can improve your visibility in search results, attract more organic traffic, and increase your chances of converting visitors into customers. 

Increased Conversion Rates: A website that is difficult to navigate on mobile devices can frustrate users and lead to higher bounce rates. On the other hand, a responsive design makes it easy for users to find what they're looking for, whether it's product information, contact details, or checkout options. This ease of use can significantly increase your conversion rates and boost sales. 

2. The Role of Ecommerce App Development in Boosting Sales 

While a responsive website is essential, having a dedicated ecommerce app can take your online business to the next level. Ecommerce app development focuses on creating a mobile application specifically designed for online shopping, offering a more personalized and streamlined experience for your customers. 

Benefits of Ecommerce App Development: 

Personalized Shopping Experience: Ecommerce apps allow you to offer a more personalized shopping experience by leveraging user data. Features such as personalized product recommendations, tailored promotions, and saved shopping carts can make your customers feel valued and encourage repeat purchases. 

Faster and More Convenient Shopping: Apps are generally faster and more responsive than mobile websites, providing a smoother shopping experience. With features like one-click purchasing, push notifications, and offline access, ecommerce apps make it easier and more convenient for customers to shop, leading to increased sales. 

Loyalty Programs and Rewards: Ecommerce apps can be integrated with loyalty programs, offering customers rewards for making purchases, referring friends, or engaging with your brand. These incentives can encourage users to return to your app, fostering customer loyalty and boosting long-term sales. 

Direct Communication with Customers: Push notifications allow you to communicate directly with your customers, informing them about new products, special offers, and upcoming sales. This direct line of communication can drive immediate engagement and encourage impulse buying, resulting in higher sales. 

3. Combining Responsive Web Design and Ecommerce App Development 

To maximize the impact of your online presence, it's important to combine the strengths of both responsive web design and ecommerce app development. Here's how you can integrate these strategies to boost your sales: 

Consistent Branding Across Platforms: Ensure that your brand’s look and feel is consistent across your responsive website and ecommerce app. This consistency helps build brand recognition and trust, making it easier for customers to navigate between your website and app. 

Seamless Integration of Features: Features that work well on your responsive website should also be available on your app, and vice versa. For example, if your website offers a wish list or shopping cart, these should be seamlessly integrated into your app so that customers can access them from any device. 

Data-Driven Insights: Use data from both your responsive website and ecommerce app to gain insights into customer behavior. By analyzing this data, you can optimize your marketing strategies, product offerings, and user experience to better meet the needs of your customers and drive sales. 

Targeted Marketing Campaigns: Leverage the data collected from your ecommerce app to create targeted marketing campaigns. For example, you can send personalized offers to customers who have abandoned their carts, or promote new products to users based on their previous purchases. These targeted campaigns can significantly increase your sales and customer retention rates. 

4. Implementing Best Practices for Success 

To fully benefit from responsive web design and ecommerce app development, it's important to follow best practices during the implementation process: 

Prioritize Mobile Users: Given the growing number of mobile shoppers, prioritize the mobile experience when designing your website and app. Ensure that your website loads quickly on mobile devices and that your app is easy to navigate, with intuitive controls and clear calls to action. 

Focus on Speed and Performance: Both your responsive website and ecommerce app should be optimized for speed and performance. A slow-loading site or app can frustrate users and lead to lost sales. Regularly test and optimize your digital platforms to ensure they perform well under different conditions. 

Invest in Quality Development: Work with experienced developers who understand the nuances of both responsive web design and ecommerce app development. Investing in quality development ensures that your digital platforms are robust, secure, and capable of handling high traffic volumes. 

Keep User Experience at the Forefront: Always keep the user experience in mind when designing your website and app. Consider how users will interact with your platforms and what features will make their shopping experience easier and more enjoyable. 

Conclusion 

Responsive web design and ecommerce app development are powerful tools that can significantly boost your online sales. By creating a seamless and enjoyable shopping experience across all devices, you can attract more customers, increase conversions, and build long-term loyalty. Whether you're just starting out or looking to enhance your existing digital presence, investing in these strategies is essential for staying competitive in today's ecommerce landscape. Start optimizing your website and developing your ecommerce app today to unlock new opportunities for growth and success. 

[myblackbox]

Best Web Designing Service Provider Agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR

In a constantly changing digital scenario, a well-designed website is no longer a dream but a necessity. Be it a small entrepreneur, a start-up, or even an enterprise, your website is the 'cyber face' of your organization. In this highly competitive online spectrum, you need the expertise of the Best Web Designing Service Provider Agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR, which is where Modulation Digital Institute comes in to be in the arena.

Why Should You Select Modulation Digital Institute as Your Web Designing Partner?

Modulation Digital Institute is the best web design service provider agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR. We serve with a highly skilled and talented designer, developer, and strategist who work ceaselessly on their customized website according to the business goals set for each individual. We realize that every business may be unique; thus, we work with a differentiated approach towards each project, so the website precisely represents your brand identity.

We don't just design websites that have an interesting outcome but user-friendly ones, beneficially optimized for performance. You can depend on the excellent service of Modulation Digital Institute with confidence so that your website will be outstanding, attracting more visitors, and therefore expanding your business.

Quality in Web Design Service Leaders: Field Guaranty

Best Web Designing Service Provider Agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR: Modulation Digital Institute is a web design excellence hub. Our roster of industry-certified professionals will make sure to stay abreast of all the latest trends and technologies. Hence, we ensure our designs are mobile responsive, fast, secure, and SEO friendly, while always keeping the user's interest at heart.

Whether it's a simple one-page website or an e-commerce website, whether you're looking for a multi-functional complex website, Modulation Digital Institute is the Best Web Designing Service Provider Agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR, through which your vision can be brought out. We are specialists in designing customer-specific customized designs that meet your exact needs, so that your website will offer a smooth experience for the visitors.

24/7 Customer Support: Reach Us Anywhere, Anytime

One of the signatures of Modulation Digital Institute is our service towards the customers. As the Best Web Designing Service Provider Agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR, we are always ready to be there whenever our clients need us. We have provided you with 24/7 customer service support for any queries, doubts, and technical problems that you may be faced with. Around the clock, day and night, Our support team keeps your site up and running so your site is always online and operating smoothly. Do you have technical troubleshoots or site updates that you need to address? Are you concerned with knowing how to upgrade your site performance? Our customer support team is here for you. Building long-term relationships with our clients is a necessity, and excellent customer service is one of the ways we ensure our clients are satisfied.

Full Scale Web Design Services to Suit Your Requirements

At Modulation Digital Institute, we offer full-scale web design services to meet the different requirements of our clients. We are the best web design service provider agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR, and have had experience working for businesses diversified across various sectors like retail, education, hospitality, healthcare, and several other business sectors. Our services include: Custom Web Design and Development: We can craft unique web sites for a brand; we will allow the best balance between form and function. Responsive Web Design: Your site will look wonderful on any device—from a mobile to a desktop—and respond as expected no matter which gadget is being used. E-Commerce Website Design: Our employees build secure e-commerce sites that are easy to use, so your customers can shop from their laptops with ease. SEO & Digital Marketing Services: Get your website ranked higher in the search engines to drive more organic traffic to your site. Website Maintenance & Updates: Ongoing support and maintenance to keep your website fresh, functional, and secure.

It is little or big and complex. Modulation Digital Institute is the best web design service provider agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR, for handling all the web design needs that you have. Client satisfaction: our first priority

Selecting Modulation Digital Institute means not only hiring a web design agency but also aligning with a team that puts care into your success. As the Best Web Designing Service Provider Agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR, we feel proud of delivering results far beyond our clients' expectations. We ensure complete involvement at every step, right from the design concept to the final launch.

We feel that a good website is not just something that looks great. It's not a beautiful-looking website that also comes into real and effective results for you. Whether it be for raising sales, increasing engagement, or enhancing one's online reputation, our team goes all out in rendering to you the most outstanding possible outcomes.

Best Web Designing Service Provider Agency Delhi Delhi NCR

Ready to take your online presence to the next level? Contact Modulation Digital Institute today—the best web design service provider agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR. We'll work with you to design and develop a website that not only meets but exceeds your expectations. In addition, you can have our 24/7 customer support, so you don't have any problem finding yourself in the dark. We make you proud that you find our modulation digital institute and fulfill your work expectations. 

For those who live in Delhi, NCR, you're free to visit us and discuss your project with us in person. Our team is more than happy to work on actualizing the idea from your mind into a fully functional and awe-inspiring website. Let's build something great together.

This is the post with which you are going to emphasize the strengths of your agency, showing that you are the best web design service provider agency in Delhi, Delhi NCR; here you are also indicating customer support for 24/7 hours.

[cyber-phobia]

Hi, I've spent ages trying to.scrounge up a fic but I've had absolutely no luck so I come to ask aid of the fic finders. The only scene I remember clearly was izuku entering a coffee shop that may or may not have been a drug front and encountering shinso, who was wearing a shirt that said "notfortheherocourse". He found out shinso had access to a really premium online study site and after reassuring shinso they were good friends and that shinso could trust him, he knocked him out so he could use his laptop and get access to the premium courses

.

[battleangel]

THE PLANET WILL DIE BY 2100!

THE PLANET IS DYING!

THE EARTH WILL DIE IN 100 YEARS!

100+ STUDIES PREDICT EARTH WILL BE UNINHABITABLE BY 2100!

Extreme weather never seen before — droughts, heat waves, back to back fire warnings than freeze warnings, 40+ degree temperature changes in one day, earthquakes & tornadoes in areas that never previously had them — signal the literal destruction of planet earth.

The sky is ACTUALLY falling!

•Do not have any children.

•Do not buy a house — live in a 1 bedroom apartment.

•Stop using air conditioning — use electric ceiling or box fan & open window.

•Keep thermostat for heat between 62 degrees & 68 degrees during winter.

•Work remotely if you can — W-2, contract, temp, part-time, freelance, fractional, start your own business — avoid working on-site & in an office that would require a daily commute.

•Only drive when absolutely necessary — walk, take the bus or stay home — should only be purchasing gas for car a few times a year at most.

•Do NOT buy an electric vehicle or hybrid vehicle & do not use air taxis. •Cobalt is only available in Congo & is causing a genocide as local warlords kill each other & local civilians over the mineral that Apple, Tesla, Google, Samsung, etc. pays outrageous amounts for — men, women & children work in the Congolese mines for 12 to 16+ hours a day with no protective gear & cobalt is an extremely toxic mineral.

•Stop buying new cell phones — buy refurbished or used cell phones every 3 to 5+ years — cobalt is used for the batteries for all cell phones & is currently causing a genocide in Congo.

•Stop buying new electronic devices — laptops, tablets, TVs, smart watches.

•Cobalt is used for the batteries for all cell phones & is currently causing a genocide in Congo.

•Stop taking vacations — do staycations instead.

•Do staycations — local county & state fairs, carnivals, farms, parks, gardens, movie marathons or sleepovers at home, nature trails, hiking, local museums.

•Stop flying in airplanes.

•Do not fly anywhere unless absolutely unavoidable.

•Do not go on cruises.

•Do not stay in hotels.

•Stay in motels, economic lodging, airbnb, vrbo or couch surf with locals.

•Minimize meat intake — stop eating meat Monday through Friday.

•No plastic water bottles.

•Buy water filter + use stainless steel water thermos.

•No showering or bathing.

•Wash at sink with face cloth & soap.

•Do not live in an apartment with a washing machine & dryer.

•Only do laundry at laundromat every 30 to 90+ days.

•Do not live in an apartment with a dishwasher — wash dishes by hands.

•Only do laundry at laundromat every 30 to 90+ days.

•Reduce single use plastic whenever possible.

•Six R’s: Refuse, repair, reduce, reuse, recycle.

•Delete Prime & Amazon account.

•Do not buy from Amazon.

• Borrow books from local library or purchase from local book stores or independent book stores online.

•Stop using fast fashion apps — Shein, Zaful, Romwe, Fashion Nova.

•Stop buying clothes at the mall, department stores & chains.

•Do not buy new clothes.

•Buy used clothes from online & in-person thrift shops — Depop, Mercari, Etsy, Poshmark, Goodwill & consignment stores.

•Reuse current outfits until they are unwearable — 25+ years.

•Only buy new shoes when current pair breaks down — every 10+ years.

•Stop using plastic sanitary pads & plastic tampon applicators — wear period underwear + biodegradable tampons without applicators or period cups or menstrual discs.

•Shave your head yourself with a razor at home every 1 to 3 months — stop going to hair salons & barbershops — do not use any hair products (shampoo, conditioner, oil, gel, spray, etc.) — do not dye hair — do not color gray hairs.

•Wear wigs for 3 to 5+ years before replacing.

•Be frugal & minimize consumerism.

•Do not purchase anything online more than 1 to 3 times a year.

•Do not buy gifts for anyone.

•Advocate for antinatalism — the belief that procreation is immoral & unjust.

•Advocate for the voluntary extinction of the human race both online & in-person.

•Minimize fast food, delivery, takeout & sit down restaurants to a few times a year.

•Do not use KCups & minimize buying coffee at Dunkin Donuts, QuickChek, Wawa, Starbucks or any chain.

•Brew coffee at home with reusable pod.

•Avoid big box retail & chains.

•Shop local grocers, food markets & mom & pop small businesses.

Make these changes because of climate change.

Make the change to save our dying planet!

Make that change!