#and sprinkling some facts I remember from other exams

[girlpetrarca]

time to prepare for an exam in four days 🙃

[skazoo]

still do.

↳ choi jongho x f!reader

he couldn't stop loving you, even if he tried. and he did try for some time. it just didn't work.

length. 3.7k

genre. exes (and friends) to lovers, fluff, crack and a sprinkle of inevitable angst (i'm sorry).

warnings/tags. language, mention of death, mention of illness of a loved one, implied depression, .

networks. @kflixnet k-labels

notes. hello with another "this was supposed to be just teeth rotting fluff but somehow turned a little depressing and angsty on its own, i swear i didn't touch anything" do we see a pattern here? bc i do. i offer this lil jongho fic after sm time of absolutely nothing but i've finished my exams literally the other day, (DURING PRIDE MONTH!?!?? unacceptable) hope you like it!!

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

it’s a well-known fact —to your friend group, to the employees of the cafè on the way to your apartment, to the old lady that sells flowers at the corner of the big building you work at— that choi jongho not only likes you but he’s irremediably and unequivocally in love with you.

and that is still not right because jongho doesn’t just love you, no, that would be too obvious, too easy. he still loves you. 

if he goes back enough in his memories, jongho could say he’s always loved you.

he’s never been one to believe in love at first sight so when wooyoung drunkenly introduced the two of you at his birthday party, and he found himself unable to breathe let alone speak a coherent sentence to you, he immediately panicked. was he having a heart attack? a stroke? he was healthy, an athlete! how could this be happening to him!? he even made his own doctor hate him with all the panicked questions he asked the poor man on the phone but apparently, all he needed to relatively calm down was wooyoung’s loud laugh as he told him that he simply had a crush on you.

did he have a crush on you? 

you, with your beautiful smile and melodic laugh and sparkling eyes and– okay, yeah. he did have a crush on you but who wouldn’t!?

strong argument indeed, he thought.

that fateful night was only the start of a happiness he didn’t know he was able to experience.

you became friends, then best friends, then something more and then you were kissing, sleeping, and cuddling in bed together, going on cute little dates, and showing more PDA jongho ever imagined doing. 

he thought you were happy with him. navigating life with the same confused curiosity all young adults seem to innately possess.

then something happened that he couldn’t have ever predicted. and not because he wasn’t paying attention to you or because he was slacking off with his boyfriend duties, no. it came as a complete shock to everyone —you included, in a sense— because the signs just weren’t there. 

out of the blue, without notice, you broke up with him. after a year and for reasons that are still beyond his comprehension.

questions thundered into his mind asking why you had come to the heartbreaking decision, why you had sent him a ‘we need to talk’ text at 2am in the morning, and why he’d later found you at the front door of his apartment with tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes, soft whimpers vaguely sounding like ‘sorry’ and ‘it’s not your fault’. 

if he thinks back to that night, jongho gets chills from how scared he was; holding your body to his chest, not knowing what to do or what to say, not knowing who hurt you or why you were hurting.

when he thinks back to that night —something he finds himself doing more often than his heart can take— jongho clearly remembers the silent promise he repeated in his head at least a thousand times after you went back to your apartment. a promise he’s set on keeping.

and it’s for that very promise that he now sits in the crowded cafe downtown, drinking an overrated caramel macchiato and hiding behind a book he has no interest in.

at least it’s what he tells himself. that he came to the same coffee shop you told him you’d be meeting your date at because that’s what friends do. he tells himself he’s wearing a mask and sunglasses inside because he can and will love you platonically if that’s what you need or want. jongho tells himself a lot of things and he hopes he’s strong enough to believe in them in a way that will make them reality sooner or later.

but it’s not like two booths away from him you’re faring any better.

are people outside your friend group really this boring and uninteresting? have men always been this arrogant and full of themselves? was your current ex-boyfriend the exception that proves the incredibly unfair rule? 

when you met jongho you knew you were lucky. hot college athlete with sarcasm to match yours and a badly concealed heart of pure gold? you knew you hit the jackpot. but you weren’t ready to realize that he really was one in a million men that actually put in the effort to go beyond the bare minimum.

why is it, though? 

the question threatens to break loose all the pent-up frustration this date is generously providing you with and you opt to ignore it and hide it in the back of your mind for another occasion. one that includes cheap wine, pizza, and an equally bewildered yunjin sitting on your couch with funny socks and mouth full.

for now, you only limit yourself to throwing a fake smile at the obnoxious man sitting in front of you who’s spent the entirety of this heinous date talking exclusively about himself and his crypto-currency business. 

he’s finishing what you think is a long rant about the stock market when he moves to get up.

you think you’re finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel but he just lets out an annoying chuckle and looks at you with his small and pig-like patronizing eyes. “don’t worry, love. i’m not leaving you i’m just going to ‘powder my nose’, how you girlies say.” he winks and you resist the urge to gag at how… slimy he looks and feels.

as soon as he’s out of sight you let yourself slump on the small table, groaning a bit as you do so.

what were you even thinking? you tell yourself that today is going to be a well-suffered lesson for your future self: no dates with people that quote elon musk as if he’s some kind of greek philosopher.

your hands reach for the phone in your bag on their own. the last message you received was a sarcastic ‘have fun’ from wooyoung in the group chat but other than that everything is quiet, seemingly wanting to punish you for going against your friends’ advice to bail on the guy as soon as you saw him treat the barista like shit.

under the group chat, jongho’s name glares at you. 

you would be lying if you said out loud that this date didn’t have the sole purpose of distracting you from the claustrophobic guilt you’re feeling lately. 

jongho had never really cried in front of you but you swear if you could you’d erase the image of his damp eyes looking at you with confusion on that ugly night. and if you have to be honest you’d erase the encouraging but strained smiles he gives you now that you’re back at being friends too, because they don’t do anything but make you feel a shittier person than you already think you are. but maybe you deserve it. maybe this is finally going to be the occasion in which you understand that your actions have consequences.

your fingers work quicker than your brain can catch up, and before you realize it, you open again the conversation with jongho that ended before you went out and start typing.

> you: wyd?

> jjong: you’re on a date

> jjong: focus

> you: what is this an exam?

> you: nevermind this was a bad idea…

> jjong: texting me or the date?

> you: shut up

> you: the date 

> jjong: aw i’m sorry i could have told you that like,, an hour ago

> jjong: oh wait 

> jjong: i did!

another groan leaves your lips, only this time laced with a small chuckle at his antics. you mark the message as seen and throw your phone back into the bag. 

you hope other people can't see how much you miss him.

while you’re too focused on burning holes in the bathroom door from how hard you’re staring at it, dreading the moment it will open to reveal your current problem, in the loud noise of the cafe you don’t hear the heavy stomps of someone approaching you from behind. 

only when you feel two warm hands plant themselves on your shoulders and you hear a familiar voice muttering to itself something that sounds like ‘found you’, you’re forced out of your angry trance state and you’re asked to quickly choose between either your fight or flight instincts. you throw a blind punch and the person creeping up on you folds into two.

but that’s on him because who creeps on someone sitting alone at a table and touches them without making themselves known? what happened to ‘hello, what a coincidence to see you here’? what happened to manners?

you snap your head to the figure behind you and you let your panic subside but your annoyance rises.

“how– what are you doing here!?” your words come out in a hiss that makes the old couple sitting in the booth behind you turn around and look at you with judgy eyes but that doesn’t affect jongho in the slightest.

“saving you? duh.”

“who asked you that?!”

“what– Y/N, you texted me even before you met the guy, may i add. and the message said: ‘please end my suffering.’ in my book that’s a cry for help!”

he’s right but you let out an affronted huff anyway. arms crossed and lips in a pout you know is childish. “whatever.”

you feel him staring at you with a raised eyebrow and a smug smirk that you, oh so badly want to wipe off his face. 

“what?” you spat. your tone more embarrassed than you’d like to let on.

“what, what?”

“what the fuck are you smiling for?”

he throws his arms in the air exasperatedly. “am i not allowed to be happy now?”

“of course you are, it’s just… you being happy,” you air-quote to punctuate your suspicions on his current joyous disposition. “usually means wooyoung fell or someone got hurt.”

he laughs. “do you think so lowly of me, Y/N?”

“shut up.” the napkin you’ve been fidgeting with because of the irrational panic rising in your guts is now messily crumpled on the table and you groan at the whole situation. head in your hands and eyes closed. you’re so bad at this.

what happened to moving on? what happened to leaving jongho alone because he doesn’t deserve someone treating him like shit? you broke up with him supposedly to save him, but, not even three months in, and now that your mind is clearer you think it’s okay to want him back? to feel full again every time you talk about the things you did together and bask in the silence that follows with a warm knowing smile? you think it’s good to let your eyes wander to his face when you know he’s not looking, falling in love all over again? to feel your face involuntary stretch into a smile every time you spot him waiting for you outside work?

whatever your fucking problem is, you’re scared that you’ll come to find out its only solution is the person you fought so hard to push away. because what if you managed to scare away the last source of happiness you had? it’s selfish, you know, but it’s also the only thing you can think about as he looms over you; body so dangerously close to yours that you can catch the flowery perfume he always wears.

you think he’s speaking to you because his big hand is outstretched in your direction and his eyes are looking at you expectantly, with a veiled urgency.

“sorry, what?”

“i said get up and let’s go.”

“go where exactly?”

he rolls his eyes and you keep to yourself the striking resemblance he has with a spoiled child right at this moment.

“c’mon, we’re living this tinder nightmare here.”

“oh, are we?” you ask equal parts amused and curious of where this little skit of his is going.

when his deadpan expression doesn’t shift into one of his gummy smiles at your slightly annoying antics you know something impulsive and possibly embarrassing is about to happen and you know you will be the only person who will have any sort of unnecessary remorse out of the two of you.

your hands fly to your parted mouth and you hiss at him again. “are you serious!?”

he smiles.

“jongho, no.”

jongho yes, the mischievous look he throws you seems to proudly announce. 

he checks the toilet door one last time before gently grabbing your arm and not-so-gently yanking you out of the booth. a surprised squeal leaves your mouth but not a word of protest is heard from you.

“oh my god, i’m really doing this.”

his eyes are set on the door and he speaks without looking at you. “doing what?” 

“leaving someone like that while they’re in the bathroom! that’s so… i don’t know jjong, that’s so rude!”

you see his shoulder shake and you know if he were to face you right now you’d see one of his shit-eating grins. what you can’t imagine is the softness in his eyes as you call him with your nickname for him. he missed it. he misses you. painfully, completely, constantly.

his wide strides are followed by your frantic steps as he maneuvers the two of you out of the door and into the busy downtown street.

“so what? do you wanna go back in there and risk being bored to death by a guy that’s not even a quarter of what you deserve?”

“wha– no! i just–”

“then why should you feel sorry for that sad excuse of a date, uh? like, really, he took you to the most overrated place he could think of, Y/N. he didn’t even know you don’t like coffee!”

you chuckle at the frown of deep offense that blooms on his face. his lips in an affronted pout. “but that’s what the date is for, jjong. he couldn’t have possibly known.”

he stops in his tracks when he’s far away enough from the crowd in line waiting to be granted entrance to the place you just left. 

“i do, though.” an imperceptible strain to his voice as his eyes search yours in a way that’s almost desperate. “i know you don’t like coffee and that you like to sleep on the right side of the bed and that you just have to sing that ridiculous song to tie your shoes because otherwise, for some inexplicable reason i still have to understand, you can’t.”

has the world around you stopped? your ears are ringing from the deafening silence and you feel like everyone around you has stopped breathing and is waiting for you to say something to the boy in front of you who stares you down in determined distress.

“i know you, Y/N.”

you know he deserves an explanation. him more than anyone in your life. him more than yourself, even. jongho with his proverbial patience that let you cry and consoled you the whole night even after you’d told him you were breaking up with him. jongho that didn’t push or torment you with questions the days after. jongho who accepted —maybe in pure and raw self-preservation— to go back to being just friends, with tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips because that’s what you’d told him you needed at that moment. his kindness that, more often than not, you’re convinced you don’t deserve.

“i know.” you close on yourself, your arms coming to hug you tight so that he can’t see the cracks that constantly try to spread over your skin. “i know you do.” an imperceptible whisper that threatens to drown in the buzz of the busy city around you.

“then why?” his eyes are pleading and his voice is quiet when he speaks again. 

“i know i should give you time and i know you’ll tell me one day but please–” he gulps down a lump that you know he’s had for at least three months. one of worry, confusion, and guilt. one you know you gave him.

“–please, give me something. anything.”

silence.

“Y/N, please say someth–”

“my mother was sick, jongho. she still is.” the line you’ve dreaded crossing for so long is no longer a line. the wall that’s been standing in between you and everyone else now has a hole in it. 

“i was out of my mind just from the news of her condition, i– i wasn’t well mentally and physically just from that and i saw time slip through my fingers, felt every single second like a punch to the guts. i threw away all the clocks in my mother’s house, i started sleeping on the floor outside her bedroom, i– the week i told you i was busy with deadlines, we were still together, remember?” he nods, small but it’s there.

 “i spent those days obsessing over something that was not yet real. my brother had to slip me sleeping pills to let me close my eyes for even a second.” your voice cracks because the guilt you get from just looking at jongho always has to be added to the guilt you feel when seonghwa kindly asks you how you’re doing lately.

“i-i was a mess just from that and i didn’t want you to be with me when what i was scared of was going to finally become a reality. i didn’t want you to see me like that because i didn’t think it was what you deserved. and you may be unable to understand and yell at me that it had to be your choice and not mine but i still don’t think that what i did was wrong, i’m sorry.”

the apology floats in the air between you. it’s not articulate or rich but it’s the only one you can get out at the moment.

“my psychologist says– he says i’m doing better now. we agree that the worst is over but there’s this…  unknown that hangs over my head and every second that passes i don’t know if this guillotine will cut my head off or miss me by a hair.”

he just looks at you with that unreadable expression that scares you.

“i didn’t– i don’t want to go back to when the worst wasn’t over and i’m scared that if i give myself back to you i will take you down with me one way or the other.”

you don’t know what you expect him to say or do after you just vomited everything you’re constantly trying to keep hidden, on him, but his loud silence is starting to feel too heavy, unsettling.

he doesn’t feel present, his eyes unfocused and unblinking. 

he shakes his head as if to wake up from a trance and looks at you with eyes too full of love. no pity in them and you want to thank him for it.

“ba– Y/N why didn’t you tell me?”

the simple question throws you off. 

why did you do the things you did? 

why does anyone do things?

you want to cry and tell him that not everything has an explanation. not a logical one anyways.

“i don’t know, okay! i wasn’t sure how you felt! god, i didn’t know how i felt and–”

“how could i have ever felt!? we were together for more than a year, Y/N. i loved you. i still do.”

“w-what?”

he lets out a chuckle that is not mocking or mean or condescending, not one you would’ve expected from anyone else. it’s kind and soft and a little bit amused, much to your irritation.  “do you find it surprising?” 

you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. 

“i am in love with you, have been since the moment i saw you at that stupid party and when you told me you had to break up with me i just– Y/N, i couldn’t let you go or stop loving you, even if i tried. and believe me, i did try for some time, but it just didn’t work.” 

with tears clouding your vision you’re surprised you manage to find the time or strength to tease him. “you tried?”

and apparently, it is those two words that make him break out of the containment chamber he’s forcing himself to be trapped in. he smashes through the protective glass in true jongho fashion. a well-placed punch and the chains that kept him away from you thinking that’s what you needed, dissolve into thin air as he closes the distance, messily rushing to you and caging you in a desperate hug that steals the air from your lungs. 

you feel his hands claw at the back of your shirt and it’s the heartbreaking and deep affection that allows you to accept that you’re not difficult and you will not be. not to him, not to the people that love you.

he buries his nose in your hair, breathing you in like he wants to absorb you forever, then everything that happens next goes naturally, smoothly, following a line that was always supposed to be the one and only.

it fits perfectly. when you kiss and it's like the universe, your friend group, the employees of the cafè on the way to your apartment, the old lady that sells flowers at the corner of the big building you work at, knew it was meant to be.

you both stand with your eyes closed, embracing each other.

he wants to be a person who deserves you and whom you deserve. jongho loves you and he wants to be there, picking up your pieces, putting you together like a puzzle, taking his time. 

you sniff, looking up at him with what you hope looks like a soft expression and not some sort of a pained smile. “hi.”

“hey.” he smiles back, thumbs caressing away stray tears.

“you know that i saw you sitting there the second i stepped foot into the coffee shop. 

“you did not.”

“you were reading the book upside-down.”

he blushes but his arms tightens around you.

“i was not.”

[lonelywhalien22]

be my study buddy?

pairing: wooyoung x reader

rating/genre: fluff, sprinkle of angst, college au

summary: your late arrival to a stat class goes from worst nightmare to surreal dream when a chance encounter becomes something more.

warnings: anxious reader, some cussing, finals and exams (if that scares you like it scares me)

word count: 3.2k

song(s) to listen while reading: the book of you & i by alex benjamin, pass you by by alaina castillo

note: this was born out of my love for wooyoung's long hair era and an encounter I had in college that literally turned into nothing at all unfortunately. also I promise I have other stories that aren't set in college lol. but my college peeps this is for you ;)

~~~

"Oh hey!" you hear someone say behind you.

Slightly startled, you turn around and stare at a now very familiar face.

"Hi..."

"It's me, Wooyoung. Remember, from our Stat class?" The guy in front of you tries to clarify as a silence fills the air.

But your silence has nothing to do with a lack of memory. You totally remember his name. In fact, you've probably said that name in your head more times than would be appropriate for anyone to know.

~~~ a few months ago ~~~

It all started on a rainy Thursday in October. You remember because you had to hurriedly tie your hair back in a university bathroom before arriving late to class. The unpredictable weather had fooled you once again, and your hair had taken major damage from the elements after only minutes of having to walk across campus on a strangely warm yet rainy day. After securing your hair into a simple bun at the back of your head, you sped-walked to your Stat class, dreading the stares that came with arriving late to a lecture where most people were already checked out. You sighed to yourself softly before pushing the classroom door open as quietly as you could.

Scanning the crowded room, you looked for an empty seat, but all of them were scattered in the center, of course. You cursed in your head and averted your eyes, preparing to suck it up and brave the awkwardness of a dozen whispered "excuse me's".

As you began slowly shuffling your way down a row, you heard a not so soft, "Hey!"

"Sorry," you stammered out, barely looking toward the voice out of an assumption that you were in the person's way.

"I was just trying to say you can sit here. I can move my bag from the seat."

Desperate to remove attention from yourself, you turned towards the source of the voice, seeing a hand proceed to drag a bag off of a seat. Without thinking too much, you quickly sat yourself down, whispering off a quick thanks before pulling out a binder and a pencil. As you tried to quiet your mind from reliving the embarrassment and focus on passing the upcoming exam, you thought you felt a pair of eyes on you. The guy who had moved his bag kept looking in your direction every few minutes. You shifted in your seat, beginning to worry that there was something on your face, or maybe he could see the rushed hair job from fifteen minutes ago. You pretended not to notice, and eventually he seemed to find interest in something else, repeatedly tapping his foot while turning away from you for good.

When the lecture was finally over, you began packing up, careful to make sure you didn't leave anything behind while the lecture hall quickly emptied out. This class really was a snooze fest.

"Got caught in the rain too, huh?"

Glancing up, you realized that backpack boy still wasn't gone either. You finally turned to look completely at the source of the voice, doing everything in your power not to immediately look back down. Donning a red hoodie and grey sweatpants, his eyes were piercing upon first glance. He had jet black hair that was kind of wet, presumably from the rain, and it fell a little in front of his face. His hand went up to sweep it out of the way as he suddenly gave a bright smile and a little chuckle.

"Uh, yeah" you said back, a little caught off guard because he was good looking. Really good looking. And then you realized he could tell that you'd trudged through the rain earlier. Fantastic.

You continued to pack up, assuming that was the end of the conversation and desperate to escape the attention. As you pulled your bag over your shoulder you started walking past him towards the exit.

"I'll see you around," you said politely.

But really you were fully prepared to never see him again. In college people came and went all the time. Classmates changed with every semester. Teammates switched with every group project. Your phone was a graveyard of transactional messages from unmarked numbers.

~~~

On your next day of Stat class you arrived ten minutes early to find a good seat, determined not to relive last Thursday. Sitting down, you pulled out your stuff and busied yourself with reviewing notes. Shortly after, you heard a backpack plop down on the floor beside you, and someone slid into the seat directly to your left. You eyed the room, noticing all the empty seats.

Who the heck sits right beside someone in an empty lecture hall?, you thought to yourself.

You decided to just pretend the person wasn't there, keeping your eyes on your notes to keep things from getting even weirder.

"How're you feeling about this exam?" you heard beside you.

You paused your scribbling for a minute, wondering if the person was talking to you. Hearing no other response, you slowly looked up and to your left, coming face to face with backpack boy once again. He looked at you as if you hadn't just met one class ago - as if you were already a close friend.

"Good," you said automatically as you stared at him blankly. Then, as you really thought about it, you looked back at your notes before muttering, "well honestly, I'll just be happy if I get a B at this point. These practice problems are so annoying." 

"Wanna work together on some of them? I'm in a study group and we got all of them done except for number fifteen."

"Oh. Yeah, sure," you responded, surprised that he was serious. "I think fifteen is the one I worked through a lot last night; you can look at what I did for that one if you want," you offered halfheartedly.

"Awesome, thanks!" he shouted and you flinched inwardly. He was loud, a total contradiction to your quiet demeanor. You exchanged notes and wrote down solutions as the lecture hall filled.

"I'm Wooyoung by the way," he said with a quick glance at you and another smile, finishing up the last bit of his notes.

"Wooyoung?" you repeated, and he nodded quickly. "My name's y/n," you said slowly, trying not to stumble over your words.

"Wanna study together for the test? You can join my study group in the library tomorrow night if you want," he offered casually.

"Oh. Um, sure."

This guy is really nice, you thought to yourself, but he's probably just trying not to fail this course like the rest of us, another part of your brain interjected.

Wooyoung gave you some more information about the study group along with his number so you could find him later before the two of you gave your attention to the lecture.

You did wind up going to the study group, though things started to take a turn between the two of you. The first couple of study sessions you stuck to class material and the upcoming exam. You would come by and Wooyoung would always usher you to sit by him, removing his backpack from a space he was saving. Once the work was done, you'd chat with him and the rest of the group a little bit before heading out. You slowly learned little things about him, like that he was a health science major and was part of a dance crew. You also learned that he loved to laugh, his humorous energy often keeping the study group energized, and sometimes he would bring what he claimed were self-made treats, but no one ever believed him because they tasted too good.

When the exam was over, you were surprised Wooyoung still asked if you'd be coming to study group. You went along with it, the social activity having become one of the highlights of your week even if you weren't completely honest with yourself about it just yet. When you came to the first "study group" after the exam, you noticed Wooyoung was the only one who was there. He eagerly waived you over, another one of those heart-fluttering smiles on his face.

"Hey...is no one else coming?"

"Nope. Guess they're not as dedicated as we are," Wooyoung joked before chuckling to himself and looking down a little.

It didn't occur to you to question why he'd texted you directly to meet this time, rather than using the larger chat that had been made for the entire group.

As you nervously sat down, unsure of what to say without any clear agenda, Wooyoung cleared his throat and asked, "you wanna get some coffee?"

"I'm not really a coffee drinker, I always wind up just getting a hot chocolate or something instead," you laughed, a little embarrassed. He laughed back and shook his head.

"You're probably smarter than the rest of us caffeine addicts."

You smiled and looked down again, half-heartedly pulling out your binder, still searching for some imaginary topic to study for this class when you knew damn well there was no new content after just finishing an exam.

Honestly, why am I even here? You thought to yourself as you saw Wooyoung wander away from the table.

Staring blankly at old notes for another fifteen minutes, you were a little lost in your thoughts when you saw a white cup slide into your view. You looked up and Wooyoung was already downing a second cup in his other hand.

Wow, he wasn't kidding about liking caffeine, you thought to yourself, assuming he'd just bought himself two cups of coffee.

As he finished a sip, he sat down and glanced back over to you, noticing your confused expression.

"You said you liked hot chocolate, right?"

You blinked several times at him and he pointed to the other cup, pushing it even closer towards you.

"Did you get this for me?"

"Yeah..." Wooyoung said slowly, before doing some thinking in his head. "Wait - you thought I just bought myself two large cups of coffee?" He laughed out loud with the brightest smile and clapped his hands, full of a big energy that you'd gotten used to by now. "What kind of person do you think I am?!?"

The playfulness behind his words made you laugh at yourself and you came close to a real smile for the first time in awhile.

When you finally looked back up at him you noticed Wooyoung was still staring at you, a bit more serious this time. He asked how you wound up doing on the exam and the conversation went from there. For the next two hours the two of you went from talking about Stat to complaining about your worst professors to discussing all the things you wished you could be doing instead of drowning in school work. All throughout the conversation Wooyoung kept making you laugh, shifting closer and closer to you until you were in breathing space territory. You didn't even think about it like you normally would have. He made you forget everything, including the time. That was until a couple of clearly stressed chemistry students asked if you still needed the table to study. It must have been obvious how little of that you two were doing. You and Wooyoung quickly packed up your bags and left the library.

"Which way are you headed? I can walk you back to your place if you'd like," he offered as soon as the library doors closed behind you. It was already nighttime, stars sprinkling the sky and a light breeze in the air.

"Oh, no that's fine! I'm, like, on the other side of campus, and I was gonna listen to a podcast or something on the way," you rambled nervously without thinking, instantly regretting the decision.

"Oh. Ok. Well, I'll see you in class then."

He swayed back and forth a little before finally turning and walking away.

Shit, why would you decline??? you cried inside of your head.

Your fear had completely taken over in that moment and you beat yourself up for it all the way back to your empty dorm, sad that the one friendly connection you'd made all semester had potentially been punctured by your nerves.

October fell into November, and you eagerly awaited your playful conversations with Wooyoung every class until the end of the semester, but things never went further than that again. You had a few more study group sessions for other exams and assignments before the stress of final exams came and then the subsequent distance and time of winter break completely killed all contact. 

By the time January came around, you hadn't heard from Wooyoung since you'd both wished each other luck on the final exam. But you definitely hadn't stopped thinking about him - his smile and that infectious laugh that would completely snap you out of whatever sour mood you were in. The way he would lean into your conversations with his whole body, and how he always had a quippy comeback or joke for every situation. As you had another daydream about him on a random Saturday during break you realized with dread that you may have caught some feelings.

You convinced yourself that you just missed a friendly face amidst the everyday loneliness of college. It was too painful to think you had missed out on something more through your own doing, or lack thereof. You knew those types of thoughts would drive your brain into overdrive, so you pushed them deep down and tried to find other ways to distract yourself until the schoolwork of the new semester provided the perfect antidote. And soon those sweet daydreams were replaced with bitter anxieties once again.

~~~ the present ~~~

Which brings you to this chilly morning in February. You're waiting in line for the free hot chocolate some school org is handing out, freezing your ass off and checking the time on your phone. It may be cold, but you sure as heck aren't gonna show up late to class - warm beverage in hand or not.

"Oh hey!" you hear someone say behind you. Slightly startled, you turn around and stare at a now very familiar face. It was backpack boy. Wooyoung. In the flesh.

"Hi..." you stall for a second, thinking of something to say. Your heart is beginning to thump in your chest as if you've seen a ghost from Christmas past, which in a way you have.

"It's me, Wooyoung. Remember, from our Stat class?" he says it a little bluntly, his normal smile a bit measured, which makes your heart hurt.

"I remember you."

"Oh."

"I mean, how could I forget? You were the only reason I made it through that class without losing my mind," you say before thinking, clearly a little too excited to see him again.

"Really?" Wooyoung asks, his smile growing a little more.

"Yeah," you nod your head shyly, deciding to lean in rather than back away from the fear this time. The line in front of you finally shifts and you move forward, not even thinking about being late for your class anymore. This line could take forever if it meant you got to see that seratonin-boosting smile for a little longer. You turn back towards him then, taking a second to admire his features. His hair is longer, almost reaching his chin in waves, and parted in the middle. You imagine what it would feel like to run your fingers through it and -

"Y/n?"

"Huh?" you utter back with wide eyes.

"There's this fair coming through town this weekend," Wooyoung mentions. "I was thinking about going and checking out the food, wasting money on games, trying not to barf while riding every ride...live on the edge, you know?" he says, smirking at the end. "Any chance you'd wanna come? I'll make sure it's fun! I promise," he says with a wink.

You nearly stop breathing at that. As your mouth hangs open to respond, your brain trying to comprehend what's happening, you hear someone at the booth call for the next person. You've finally made it to the front of the line.

"Thank you," you say quickly, grabbing the warm cup and moving out of the line, waiting for him.

"Still a hot chocolate lover, I see," Wooyoung says after he grabs his cup and jogs towards you.

"Ha! Yeah, I am," you reply, staring at him again before looking off to the side.

"So...is that a yes for fried foods and barfing on rides together?"

Your head snaps back towards Wooyoung, remembering his earlier invitation. And there's that fear again. Right in the pit of your stomach. Your palms start to sweat and your heart rate speeds up.

Jeez, why is this so hard? You think to yourself. Aren't you always complaining about how lonely college is? Just say yes and have some fun for once!

Fun. You start to think about all of the fun you and Wooyoung managed to have together in the lecture hall of a Stat class of all places. All those late night chats in the library "studying". How you completely forgot about all of your problems when you were around him. So you take a deep breath and release it, hopefully not too noticeable to him.

"Sure." you say curtly, without giving yourself any room to talk yourself out of it.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"This is gonna be sooo fun!" Wooyoung says triumphantly as he does a little jump and fist pump, his silly, loud self back to how you remembered in the Fall. It brings a smile to your face. A real one. Suddenly there's a shout of his name and he turns away from you for a second before looking back at you, a little embarrassed.

"Ahhhhh, I'm holding up my friends," Wooyoung says a little regrettably. "I'll text you later with more details, yeah? I didn't make you late for class, did I?"

On a high from his enthusiasm, you immediately shake your head.

"I'll be fine, my class is pretty close."

That's a total lie. It's one of your furthest classes and you always have to get up extra early to get there on time. Hence the reason you had even bothered to wait in line for a free sugar boost.

"Ok, well I'll see you soon then. Bye, y/n," Wooyoung smiles at you one more time and waves before running off towards his friends.

You're late to class that day. And you have to do the awkward shuffle across a row of tired students to find a seat. But it doesn't matter. You're on cloud nine for that entire lecture and the rest of the day, the sweetness of the hot chocolate making you think about how much of a rush Wooyoung brings to you every time you let yourself think about his smile. The deep dark chocolate depths of his eyes, which you always become mesmerized by when they look your way. The warmth and comfort that his friendliness brings you with every interaction. Just when you thought the cold winter had buried your memory of him for good, just one short conversation had melted the ice away, and now all you felt was warm and fuzzy and giddy inside.

[myryathedreamer]

2 + 15 (protože jsem zvědavá!) + 4 for the history ask game?

History ask set

2. What is your country most famous for in history? My first instinct is to say being a victim of the Munich Agreement (or being a victim in general lol) or the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich. But then I remembered the Christmas carol Good King Wenceslaus is supposedly based on Bohemian duke Saint Wenceslaus, so I'm gonna go with that. Also the battle of Austerlitz took place in present-day Czechia and any Napoleon nerd gotta know that one.

15. Were the history classes teached in an interesting way in your school/ college/ university? What would you do to improve them if you were the teacher / lecturer? In highschool it was a mixed bag. We had multiple teachers throughout the years. First one was focused on the dry theory, but he had good powerpoint presentations (those are always important) and iirc he liked to make interesting exam questions - like "Based on when they lived, could these two historical figures have met?" The second one loved to sprinkle in historical anecdotes (like the fact that one French prince was killed in the streets of Paris by a wild hog) and was overall a great narrator (he is a tour guide for Czech tourists in France as a second job), but I'll never forgivehim for the way he graded me on one particular exam. The last one had some great one-liners ("I've taken the first step in grading your exam papers: I found them.") and loved to add some personal stories when talking about the modern history. I was picked to dance with him on our maturita ball and he smelled of cologne and cigarettes, so that's a few points down, but overall a cool guy. I study archivistics and medieaval latin, so pretty much all of my classes are history-ajacent. I have to highlight one of my History of Administration professors, who had a great way with words and would always spend the latter third of a class talking about a historical scandal or something from every-day life. Another cool one was my Bohemian Medieval History professor, who had a very captivating way of speaking, loved to sprinkle in some jokes and had good powerpoint presentations (yes, that is very important to me). And last but not least my Epigraphy professor was pretty much the biggest expert in his field and it showed tremendously (also for this class I got to make epigraphic descriptions of 15th century tombstones which to this day remains the coolest thing I've ever done for class).

4. My bachelor thesis is focused on 14th century charters from one monastery, so right now that's the era I think about the most. Other than that I have to go with 15th century, because that's the era my theatrical swordfighting group focuses on. Also the journal of Václav Šašek z Bířkova I read for one class was a pretty good read.

[he-who-writes]

Ten things I love about you (and the one thing I can’t stand)

1. Every Tuesday morning, you wake up early because you have a 9AM class and you stop by your favourite coffee shop on the way. You sit at the table closest to the front window so you can people watch. You always order an egg and cheese croissant with a cappuccino (with a dash of cinnamon sprinkled on top). You’re so polite and friendly to the employees and other patrons, and you never leave without tipping.

2. Your favourite band is My Chemical Romance even though you were born in 2005, because it’s your big brother’s favourite band. You even have a shirt from their Black Parade world tour, that you actually stole from your brother’s closet before moving out here for college. You know all of their lyrics by heart and you love singing their songs in the shower.

3. You’re very food adventurous, more than anyone I’ve ever known. It’s like nothing is too bizarre for you to taste; I’ve seen you try all sorts of meat and even insects, and one of your favourite meals is frog legs, which I have to admit sounds disgusting to me. But you speak about food and all of its intricacies so passionately that it’s almost impossible to dismiss your words. You really just love to explore options and try new things.

4. You collect noodle stopper figurines, which wouldn’t be such a big deal if you didn’t assign each of them specific brands and flavours. At first I thought it was a coincidence that your Blue Rose Hatsune Miku always sat on Chef Woo’s Thai lemongrass cup of ramen but after a while, I realized that she never sat on any other cup. I always wonder if you’ve written down your sorting system somewhere or if you just naturally remember who goes with what cup. It’s such an adorable (and very specific) quirk.

5. On Friday nights, when most of our classmates go out to drink and party, you spend the evening at the library. I thought you were studying at first but unless you have an exam coming up, you just read for fun. The silence is almost deafening some days, because nobody is there but us. You sit at a table with a few books, usually really niche non-fiction stuff, and you flip through them until something really catches your attention. Nature, historical facts, true crime, politics, societal issues - there’s nothing you won’t read. You’ve taken out “Other-Wordly: Words Both Strange and Lovely from Around the World” three times already, maybe I should buy it for you on your birthday.

6. You talk in your sleep. A lot. And you also laugh the cutest laugh like someone in your dreams tickled you. Most of what you say is nonsense, real words but strung together in sentences that nobody awake would say in any context. I’ve heard you ask questions so absurd that I had to cover my mouth to avoid waking you up with my giggling, and I have to admit that I’ve recorded you a few times just so I wouldn’t forget all the funny things I’ve heard.

7. Your cat Milkshake is spoiled rotten. I know this sounds like a critic but it’s something I adore about you. Maybe it’s because I grew up around men who didn’t show much feelings, or only owned dogs, but your relationship with your cat is so special. I didn’t even know you could take cats out on walks before I saw you put Milkshake into his little harness to tour the neighbourhood. The fact that you have tiny seasonal bandanas for him melts my heart. And I know you hold full conversations with the little guy, where you give him his own little voice and everything.

8. You have the funniest way to sneeze. I’m so used to the stereotypical loud sneeze from men in my life, but yours is so unusual. It goes up in pitch in one syllable and then down in the second, like a word, like you’re an alien who read that the onomatopoeia for sneezing is “achoo” and decided that you should try to emulate it. But you’re an alien so you have an accent on your “achoo” and it doesn’t sound quite like the way we say it. It’s so hard to explain but it’s so delightful and always makes me smile.

9. At least once a month, you have a virtual movie night with your dad. You’re both fans of horror, thrillers, sci-fi, and similar genres so you try to always watch new releases that sound interesting when they’re available to stream. And you’re not scared of crying when something tragic happens, even in front of your father, who never berates you for it even though he’s from an older generation. Your favourite movie is The Invitation and your father really loved Parasite - both are awesome movies, by the way.

10. You have a hidden tattoo on the side of your left thigh. You never show it but you really should, because it’s so beautiful. The way the artist rendered Hokusai’s The Great Wave off Kanagawa in full colour, using a shade that perfectly replicates the rich Prussian blue used back then is spectacular. It really looks like a woodblock print that somehow fades seamlessly into your skin. I don’t know why you hide it, or what it means to you, but I could look at it for hours and never get bored of it.

With all of that said, I should really tell you what I can’t stand though, right? Communication in relationships is paramount after all.

What I really hate about you...The one thing I despise.

Is that you don’t know that I exist.

[saal-school-project]

Part 4

8th grade (2019-2020)

8th grade was special, in a bad way. It was the last year of middle school, thus the year of LGS. It's a high school entrance exam. Nice. It's a snippet of whats to come 4 years later, the real deal, the YKS (collage entrance exam, which braches out as TYT, AYT, and YDT), but lets not worry about that now. I kind of feel a little foolish for taking LGS so seriously. But the teachers made it seem that important, and all of my classmates studied, so I felt like I had to, too. I remember the Joker movie coming out. I watched it on the net and made an… unfinished fanart? I guess I just couldn’t find anything beter to draw.

Now that I look at it that hand is way too small.

I know this is a really bad picture of it and it looks like I cropped it someone else’s thing, but really I dont know where the drawing is now. Its been more than three and a half years, this is the only pic I could find of it.

I still wrote occasionally, despite my main focus being studying. Ugh, studying, yuck! And I think I started writing in English too sometimes! The middle of 8th grade was when COVID hit. Remember 2020? I can't believe it's already 2023; my sense of the flow of time got all messed up after 2021 for some reason. During the quarantine, I really didn't want to study, but I had to. I designed another character for my hybrid of a game. Back then, I still thought I could pull it off on my own if I learned Unity. Duh, I still have delusions of my own, but I'm over that particular one. Anyway, towards the end of it all, I started to feel like maybe I deserved to buy a Nintendo Switch and finally play Breath of the Wild once all this was over. So I just did that. I entered the exam, did my best, and didn't care about the rest.

My mom also forced me to take a talent exam at some fine arts high school, even though I wouldn't go there even if I won. Maybe she made me do it as a backup plan if I got a bad score from the LGS. Thats kinda sad now that I think about it. So when I went to the talent exam, I was all grumpy at first because I didn't even want to be there, but I left feeling pretty happy because it was pretty fun and a great confidence boost. Normally, I'm pretty antisocial, but I made friends with the kid who sat next to me instantly. He was pretty talkative, extraverted, and a bit clumsy, as he somehow managed to break both the eraser and the pencil sharpener given to him, so I let him use mine instead. He was pretty surprised when I handed him the unopened eraser, as it was way more than halfway through the exam and I hadn't used it yet. We talked about stuff. It's been years; I don't remember. It probably started with something like, "Yo, how did you make LGS? I didn't really care about that, but I also didn't have anything else to talk about at the moment, which made me feel kind of shallow. It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience for me, and I didn't really want to be reminded of it, but since we got along and I enjoyed the company, the topic must have shifted to something I actually liked at some point. While I was leaving, people who saw my art complimented it and said I would definitely make it into the school, which I did. but, like I said, I wouldn't go there either way. This sounds like I'm bragging, but actually, when I think about it, it makes me sad. I didn't have memories like these after middle school. It's like I'm a husk of what I used to be. Something went wrong somewhere, but I can't pin it down. (This is the existential crisis sprinkled in; it can be like that sometimes.)

I spent all of the summer of 8th grade cooped up in my room. more so than other summers. Well, the fact that my dad sold our summer house, where I spent my previous summers, is partly to blame for that. I didn't mind. I got my Breath of the Wild and played the hell out of it that summer. I also got Mario Odyssey and Super Smash Bros. Did you know that cartridges for the Nintendo Switch taste like trash? Because they are so small, it would be easy for a toddler to swallow them, so they made them taste bad so the baby would spit them out. or at least thats what I remember; again, I'm too lazy to actually check. Anyway, there's not much else to talk about in 8th grade, I guess. I just really wanted to enjoy myself that summer.

Pictures of my switch:

[justageneralsimpindeed]

Choke me as if you hate me:Chapter 2

Cw: Hisoka imaginary smut, switch Hisoka, mommy kink, more PTSD, mentions of rape and incest, mental illness such as possible schizophrenia depression or BPD.

Fresh sprinkles of morning drizzle trickled down your face. It wasn't hefty but it was surely not going to stay like that for long, remembering your fortune. You debated on whether or not you should plummet back into your siesta or get up and evade the oncoming meteors of H2O. Abuela had made sure to bore into your head that the hunter exams were no mockery the morning you set off on your journey, the morning before and the morning before that and so on. But her voice was drowned out.

YOU ALWAYS FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY'S WATCHING YOU.

WHY?

Shudders scurried up your spine as you wish to open your eyes but you can't. At that moment, you were a child abiding by the unconscious regulations when it comes to lights out:If you can't see it, it can't see you. Your skin crawled as a clawed digit traced its way from your cheek to underneath your jaw. You were scared but confirmed something as another talon on its other hand trailed your thigh and a hard object grew at the back of your head.

"This creature is so true I can already savour the reality I'm beating his ass"

With the split of your lids, you cared not who you touched or what touched you, your balled fist granulated its jaw, the bone seemingly softening from your bitterness. A boisterous but timely grunt was listened to, and before you could actually understand what came about, Hisoka was on the floor one arm keeping him up and the other holding his jaw.

He's glaring so intently at you, you're convinced it's hostility.

It's not.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 《 》˚₊·͟͟͞͞➳❥

Subsequently noticing that you had 'uppercut from hell' Hisoka in the face and busted his lip, Gittarakur explained how you dozed off while playing cards with Hisoka and Hisoka the kind soul that he is let you use his lap as a cushion. You noted how he had never made eye contact the entire moment with you but instead with Hisoka. His mood indicated nausea you would never know about but it didn't matter because AFTER SO LONG YOU FINALLY HAVE REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.

Hisoka snatched you back as you were ready to dive into the ocean and paddle your way to shore if the boat didn't hurry up. How did he run into someone like you, such a kind, pure and yet opposingly chaotic girl. His bulge was now straining and stifling itself against his pants. After you had punched him, he capsized into an orgasm and your abrupt hurried, determined nature only spurred him on for a second time. You truly were remarkable to him. It was clear Gittarakur didn't pay much mind to you, but he knew for a fact you were too dumb to realise Hisoka's behaviour.

His hand fastened around your wrist the minute you were in distance to be tossed over. He had very much battled the seduction of just hurling you in the ocean but he didn't truly want that. He never did if he were to think. Your aura is the only reason why both of these men are known to you. Hisoka wanted to break you but it seems he'd rather hunger for you now. But, Gittarakur is much more sophisticated. He finds your upbeat and partially happy character bothersome. However, he comes to realise how quickly you altered Hisoka, yes he still has a high libido, but he wants to sleep with you and it's continued to the degree that Gittarakur wonders if he wants to fuck an infant into you and finalize.

The impression fends off Gittarakur. He won't allow you to do the same thing you did to Hisoka. He won't perish to your spell. He won't fall for you. He won't become weak.

Your ass is certainly blackened as Gittarakur did not lack distance or height and he must have heaved you 10 feet both ways. You struggle to stand as the rest of the passengers onboard make their way off, some occasionally hurrying to the side for one last visual declaration of how bad their ride was."Too bad they can't 1 star on yelp"You thought rubbing your coccyx, Hisoka scrambling to your side.

"Did it hurt that bad?"Hisoka rushed breathless."Nah, Abuela does worse."You reply throwing him the heart-melting smile that he gets so hard at. His erection will eradicate him if this persists. Gittarakur noticing this jerks you away from him and grumbles "Go sort yourself out" before he drags you god knows how far. Hisoka takes this as an opportunity to kiss your hand adieu for now before Gittarakur drags you away from him. The rosiness of your face, once he did that, has him scampering into the closest bistro restroom, into the closest booth already with his pants down, pumping away at his cock.

You leave with Gittarakur confused as hell and Gittarakur as attentive as he is, says "Hisoka needed some time alone, he felt a little queasy but was more worried about you."You wanted to blush and think it was cute but you can pick up on bullshit every so often, even though you are naive as fuck.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Hisoka's alone time ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Nobody was there; not because there was no one there, to begin with, but the fact Hisoka didn't wait to enter the stall before he had slid his pants down enough for his suffering cock to be revealed. It was lengthy and thick, his nearly blushing tip dripping misty-coloured drops of precum. His long, but thick finger smothered his hard-on before running to the base and back again. A loud, anguished and oddly high-pitched whimper left his pale lips as his efforts of self-relief evolve more untamed and hostile. He yearns for you here, not with Gittarakur, not with that assassin. His hips thrust into his hand as he cums. But it isn't satisfactory. You bent over underneath him, hands thrashing all over his back as your grasp diminishes with every thrust of his hips and yet you plead for more. His hand reaches to your ass, raising you and shoving you against the stall door. Your face is mutilated in pleasure. Your flawless skin is burned scarlet, your huge, gorgeous eyes are tearful and crossed over, and your mouth is agape with your lips swollen from the bruising kisses from earlier on he so wished to deliver you. His other hand extends to your swelled and delicate breast, clamping down on it harsh before tracing the perk nipple with the pointed nail of his thumb. His thrusts pick up as your wet, velvety walls clamp around him, every part of you stuck in between trembling and bouncing. He wants to kiss you but can't.

A hand knits its fingers into his fuchsia hair, heaving him back away from you. He doesn't need to look at who it is, the strength of your punch from earlier makes the abrupt tug familiar. His fingers run to the hem of his pants, disposing of them until required, before attending to Hisoka's rim. He consumes no time slipping his fingers into his ass and moaning out your name while he jerks off. However, too delusional to think he's sandwiched between a sub-you and a dom-you; the sub-you is begging for him, clenching around him so much his cock he feels like he almost can't cum, dom-you is grabbing at his hair humiliating him, using your saliva as lube in the midst of rearranging him.

His hips are pulled back to meet your silicon cock and yet he is pulled towards the stall door by your powerful thighs. Tears have fallen, the neediness, the overstimulation, he has issues he acknowledges it; he's been like this for over ten years and you are halfway through deteriorating it away, in less than 2 days. His hip stutters as he empties his cum into your womb and yet the other you behind him won't let him go before he comes entirely because of your silicon cock.

"You like that, big boy? You like mommy's cock doing you from the inside and turning you into an unfortunate slut? Come on tell me how much of a slut you are. Tell me how you can't survive without mommy's cock,"

An additional string of sobs is ripped from his throat as he succumbs to a new level of pleasure, the pleasure of being dominated.

" Please mommy, I need you! more, please!" he cries as his dick (now turning sore) goes erect again, he moves the hand now sticky from his hot, thick cum to act as a much bigger dildo you have in his ass.

He's at your mercy. But this is his doing.

He is the one to blame.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 《 》˚₊·͟͟͞͞➳❥

You and Gittarakur continue to hike to wherever your meant to go but only he knows because he wasn't flung off the ship before he was notified. Your legs start charring, but you don't want to complain it never stopped you from making an excuse to stop." Gittarakur, what happens if Hisoka can't locate us?" you ask, trying not to show the weariness and overall giveaway your primary intention. Gittarakur doesn't stop he just goes on with casual spasms, holding up a walkie-talkie. But if anything he's sped up and he doesn't hesitate to hide it.

"I'm a calm person...BUT FOR DUCK's SAKE!" you think.

You recognize Gittarakur isn't all that fond of you, in fact, he probably doesn't even recall your name or that you exist. You know he's trying to lose you but because he flung you off the ship you know zero about your destination, he is the only one other than Hisoka that you know but Hisoka of someplace being 'sick' and you can't afford to tell Abuela that you didn't even make it to the hunter exams because you were lost.

Your limbs burn as you pick up the speed and all he does is do the same. You start uttering profanity under your breath, not recognizing that this is somewhat turning into an amusing game for Gittarakur. There are no people in the area other than you and Gittarakur, so he takes the opportunity to run at a pace you can watch him but can't take hold of him.

"Gittarakur why are your running?!"

But it's too late Gittarakur is already down a near alley onto another street and has disappeared off the face of the planet.

You now are alone in the alley and nightfall is coming quick. You don't understand where to go even if you did you would get misplaced. Your island is much smaller than this, so much the population isn't even 100. But you still remembered what happened after it was dark when everyone was sleeping. When you were all alone nobody remembered you. You plummet to your feet, your knees pushed up against your chest, despite the familiarity of the position . You don't want to remember what he did to you, how he touched you, how split you open; that's what you called it at the time.

It's not his fault though,right?

Do you not remember how he hurt us?

I know but daddy was just lonely.

If mama hadn't left he wouldn't use us.

WHO DO YOU THINK DROVE HER AWAY?

The sound of a nearby can being dropped and rolling your way frightened you, frightened you more than it should. Your life has been a black-and-white movie with the dialogue being almost completely drowned out by static and the voices. What you went through is traumatic, but you wonder why the voices are here. You hear them complain and bicker amongst themselves your own voice is completely drowned out even though it's your body. They bicker so often you don't even know what they bitch about anymore. They most complained about whose fault the incident is, yours, mama, daddy's, everybody you know, but they bitch tirelessly that for one you don't even completely remember what happened and two you still don't understand what happened with the little you remember. The whole fucking village knows about you, the daughter of the now banished butcher, who lost her innocence before three. They never educated you in school about sex because of what happened, they still probably wouldn't because you are the only one in the village who is younger than 47.

"How ya doin', dollface~"

Your eyes are large and exhausted, sparkling as you look up to see men.

Men who had the same look in their eyes as papa.

[andiitom]

I just read your Ramshackle fics?? Heascanons?? For Twisted Wonderland and oh my gods I am invested. All I can imagine is MC, livid and in tears, storming their way through campus to the headmaster’s office (where maybe a prefect meeting was about to start, like they were waiting on MC or something) and MC is pissed. Throwing a diary at the headmaster, cursing him out, claiming he killed them (the previous ramshackle students). Of course everyone is like “wtff 👀” staring at each other before MC takes another diary out of their bag and begins to read the entries (specifically about how they barely have any money for food and such, and that one kid who started the school year with a round healthy face is now very pale and thin). I’m sorry I can’t. Like it never crossed my mind that those graves could belong to previous students and the fact that it’s “covered up” especially in your story. I can also just imagine MC cleaning the gravestones afterwards like you said and the rest of the students checking up on MC. And like how would they react to all the diaries ending on the same date (especially if it’s fast approaching??). But like how would they other students react to the things MC discovered about the Ramshackle dorm in general.

But anyway, I love this. I love your story. It got my brain going, my brain thinking. Take you time, sweetie, but holy fuck I need more. Like shit this is so good!! Like I want to know more. I really want to know more. I can just see Ace, Deuce, Grim, and MC just going on little adventures uncovering the secrets of Ramshackle dorm, like holy shit. What if they found a journal about another student like MC, as in magic-less and essentially coming from a different world/dimension. Keep up the good work sweetie, my mind is completely blown.

A/N: sorry bestie I start rambling towards the end let me know of any Grammer or spelling errors!

If you want more of my ramshackle/other dorms hc or have any of your own I'm just and ask away ♡

CW: mentions of bullying and death!

I am so glad you loved it, bestie! And oh yes, I've come up with so much ramshackle brain rot and the whole there was another MC tidbit, I'll go into that with my own Mc, but I don't want to spoil anything. 

I have it all but its all unorganized in a Google doc But here is a little snippet: 

Crowley turns a blind eye to most things, especially when money and more acclaimed are involved. What's the cost of a few nobodys who can't do magic disappearing? They're just ghosts.. shadows, a blink and they're gone. Only a few remember those faceless, nameless students, and the memories they do have are of them being pushed down stairs or being forced to dance in hot iron shoes. Many of the NRC alumni have fond memories of being sorted into their dorms, making new friends, skipping classes to take a dip in the lake.

Sadly, for the students unlucky enough to be sorted into that dorm overlooking the hill, it was a death sentence. In the past, the dorm residents just dropped out after the first few months, not even making it to the first exams. However, enough stayed one year to warn teach the incoming first years. Most of the teachers were there for the check, and only a few cared about their students. For the ones who cared, seeing the life drain from some of the brightest minds they've seen was gut-wrenching. There was nothing they could do. Crowley turned his back as he counted his money, and all they could do was the same.

I absolutely love it when Disney let's Yana make the twst world dark, even if it's just little sprinkles. Like the gem mines and the two OB dwarfs, or what Leona went through back in the afterglow. I have a lot of stuff that I've written that I don't post much of because I let the intrusive thoughts win and shit gets dark quick. It's the implications of how TWISTED everything is, gets me going. 

The ghosts don't remember a lot of their previous lives, but they feel a calling. So maybe doing that calling would help them remember so they can move on. They're not working because Crowley can cheap out; they're working because it's where they feel the safest. The librarian ghosts are there because, in some long forgotten past, they remember hiding away in the deepest parts of the library. 

I like to play that the whole house is alive trope, but not in the way Casita is, but the way the house from Monster House is. Ramshackle is aware of everything and it's letting Mc solve the mystery of its forgotten past.

Mc didn't need to read the rest of the diaries to know how things went for the other students. They only needed to read one. While flipping through the pages, they noticed dark splotches littered the later entries. They thought it was just a way to censor the lives this school ruined, as the stain always covered the date or a name. 

The log books weren't any better. Mc took note of how every few months the penmanship would change. Neat and flowing cursive to thoughtless and stiff chicken scratch, either the writer would change or they were reading someone else's devolve into insanity. 

Day 45-

We were given our monthly budget … only 300 modals to split between 20 students. I asked the Headmaster if he could increase our amount but all he said he was stretched thin with the building of the new calaseam everyone's budget would be low for the coming months.

Day 49-

I asked around the other leaders and they said their budget had been the same… each of them getting around 3,000,000 modal.. That is 5 times the amount we get. We can only buy bread with the amount we're given.

Then at some point the log book changed from budgeting and general grievance to count how many students they'd lose.

Day 112-

I watched as two of my first years walked into the woods with five Scarabia third years following close behind. only the third years came out.. 18 students remain.

Day 195-

I sent two of my dorm members to collect papers from whoever is the current Savanaclaw dorm leader. It was a mistake as it's been three days and they have yet to return. 14 students remain. 

Those are some of the things of note that I wrote for Ramshackle Lore. Tho the one thing I disagree with is Crowley part bestie... Sure, Crowley can be an ass, but he's shown that he cares about his students. Like during Chap 2, he could have ignored the students getting injured, but he didn't, so he went to the person he trusted the most to solve the case. Crowley knows that if he goes around asking questions, the students will get scared because if the Headmaster is calling the students getting injured into question, that means something bad is happening. Word got back to Leona that he would have to lay low, throwing his entire plan into the fire. So, by getting a student to do the questioning, the culprit would be caught. He also disregards leona's title and reprmands him for his dirty tricks.

I believe the previous headmaster(s) turned a blind eye to the treatment of previous ramshackle students. But it would be a great scene..

An angry Mc bursting into his office during a dorm leader meeting throwing a book at him while spewing vitriol at Crowley because, for all they know, he's been the headmaster. They blam him for the deaths of the students. He knew what was happening and he looked away, and he's going to do the same to them. Crowley shuffles through some of the pages. He can see why Mc would assume the worst. While waiting for them to calm down, he will explains himself.

Ramshackle had long abandoned when he became headmaster. It wasn't like he also wanted to know the history of the decaying dorm. Why do you think he meets with the ramshackle ghosts? Every time he thinks he's getting close to the truth, fifty more mysteries appear. It's all just a misunderstanding. He knows he can be irresponsible and let money blind him. Anyone would do that, but he'd never go as far as to let students hurt others just for the hell of it.

[norangeyyy]

Late Night HCs

Bucci Gang Edition

TW: nothing too extreme, just a little bit of hurt/comfort stuff sprinkled right here and there.

Bruno Bucciarati

► Bucciarati typically doesn't stay up late at night, he has work and would squeeze all the amount of sleep he can get on his free time.

► Unless he has a lot of things in mind.

► It doesn't matter whether it's a work-related problem, his past, a random thought, or just generally his worries about his future. It will keep him up.

► He'll definitely need someone to be an outlet but if no one's available, he'll just stare at the night sky and distract himself with the moving clouds or finish some of his work until he's too tired to think of anything.

► If you happen to be in the same situation and same place that night though, then make sure that you take care of the trust he has for you when he was at most vulnerable and he will do same with you.

► I personally headcannon Bucciarati to be the type to like those kind of conversations since i highly doubt that he has been so vulnerable in front of anyone besides Abbachio ever since he joined the mafia.

► And even then, he's mostly the one who lifts the spirits up and not the other way around since he's the leader.

► So expect to hear things and words you wouldn't expect to come from the Bucciarati you see everyday come spilling out of his mouth, it'll be a lot.

► Pat his back or better yet, give him a hug and brush his hair while doing so. He needs it a lot since he hasn't really got one after his family fell apart.

► "I feel so much better now, thank you. I'll make sure not to forget about this night. "

Leone Abbachio

► The night owl of the gang.

► Staying up until 3AM is nothing new to this man, hell, he could even go on a whole day without sleep if he has a lot of things that's bothering him.

► He's the opposite of Bucciarati, he prefers to shoulder his intrusive thoughts alone. It'd take some great amount of effort and trust to make him talk and let it out.

► What he does during those times is either using his stand to replay certain memories that could either worsen his guilt or put him at ease, or just drink until he passes out but most of the time, he does both.

► He could also be listening to some music while he does so but if he's feeling guilty for making Bucciarati concerned about his frequent drinking, then he'll just listen to music and hope that he'll fall asleep and not just keep his eyes closed until the sun rises.

► It works, kind of, but even without alcohol driving him to sleep, he'll always be tired. His sleeping schedule is seriously messed up because he never really cared about it in the first place.

► Would sometimes go out for a walk. Leone is fond of the city's peacefulness when everyone is asleep, with the only thing keeping him accompany is the cold air and the dim light of the lampposts.

► Secretly still has his police uniform and would occasionally take it out just to stare at it or talk to it in a not-so-kind of way as he sees his younger self in it.

► Gets dragged in whatever shit Narancia and the others are up to if he gets spotted. Mostly it's just for a movie night behind Bucciarati's back but Abbachio knows better and expects the unexpected when it comes to the gang.

► Knows what everyone does in late night if they're still up and has seen a lot of ungodly sights.

► Whether it be seeing a sleepy Mista and the pistols chanting a weird prayer to a bowl of cereals or Fugo being dragged out of his room by Narancia, Leone knows it.

Pannacotta Fugo

► Just like Bucciarati, Fugo rarely stays up late at night and if he does, it's usually just because he's busy.

► Fugo has hobbies like painting and reading, everyone in the gang knows that. It's just that he gets carried way too far sometimes and loses track of time.

► Who could blame him though when the book he's reading is just too interesting or the painting he's currently working on is almost done, right?

► On extremely rare occasions where something unpleasant enough to keep Fugo up at night happens, he'll bundle himself in his fluffy blanket like a butterfly in its cocoon.

► He always does this back when he's still living with his parents, it makes him feel safe from anything that's haunting him.

► And if it's neither his hobbies or problems that's keeping him up, he'll just hear Narancia whispering outside his door or Mista throwing pebbles at his window.

► For the first few times the duo did this, Fugo was still able to resist until he just can't anymore knowing that they wouldn't leave him alone all night.

► "Well, this isn't so bad. "

► He says as he enthusiastically tosses a popcorn into his mouth with his eyes glued all over the lit screen of the TV.

► Movie nights, along with sneaking out to go the nearest convenience store, became a common thing between the Torture Dance Trio™ ever since then.

Narancia Ghirga

► The type to wake up in the middle of the night and think "Hmm... Everyone's asleep, let's commit robbery tonight!"

► Fugo's sleep paralysis demon.

► Would literally not hesitate to steal chocolate bars with Mista and probably does 3AM challenges with him too.

► Never runs out of ideas to keep himself up at night and is the one who comes up with everything but what he does still depends on his mood.

► If Narancia's feeling a little too lazy then he'll just sleep and most of the time, with music keeping him accompany. But unlike Abbachio, he purposely doesn't wear headphones just to annoy Fugo whose room is right next to his.

► If he's feeling like it, he'll straight up just invite the others to watch a movie or play videogames even though Bruno has already made it clear not to use the TV after 11PM.

► But just as he likes staying up at night doing crazy things with the boys, he also uses his energy left and free time to self-study, as surprising that may sound.

► He may hate reading but he takes advantage of the fact that his brain is much active at night and he doesn't want to depend on Fugo too much. After all, he dreams on going back to school and he's more than willing to be capable enough to do so alone and pass without the other teen's help.

► Will cuddle anything that's near him while he studies but if you give him a plushie, it'll be instantly his favorite and he would definitely use it as a study buddy.

Guido Mista

► Alright, let's be honest here, this dude wouldn't even stay up if it weren't for his bros.

► 5 seconds lying on the bed and he's already knocked out for a good 10 hours if there's no work he has to do for the day. Make it 8 at weekdays thanks to his mafia-related responsibilities.

► He sleeps like a log so only a combination of shaking him up awake with Fugo and Narancia can make him rise from what seems like a two year coma but is really just a normal tuesday night.

► Will pretty much join Narancia at anything he does but since his last three brain cells are obviously still as half asleep as him, he won't be able to remember that much the next day.

► And once he's out of the room and is already sitting on the couch with the guys, Mista's the type to fall asleep halfway through the movie.

► You can't blame him though, it's 12AM and it seems that Fugo got to choose what movie they'll watch since Narancia already got to choose the other night.

► Unless they're playing videogames or are going out then he won't be acting like a slow ass PVZ zombie with a fried brain. Actually, he'll be hella active if that's the case.

► Active at grabbing every snack each second, that is.

► Actually, it's the pistols who does that but oh well, it's not like Mista's innocent too.

► "I swear it's not me who ate all of our groceries for this month! Right, guys?! It's the pistols! "

► And that, everyone, is how Guido blew their little rendezvous without even trying.

Giorno Giovanna

► There's not much to be said about this boy since just like Mista, Giorno goes to bed early as he makes sure he still gets the proper amount of sleep.

► He already has a lot of things to deal with at day so of course, by the end of it, he'll be exhausted.

► Nights before exams are excluded because although he may seem like he skips class sometimes, Giorno still knows his priorities.

► Only when he became the head of the mafia did he really started to lose sleep as great power comes with great responsibilities.

► It took a LONG time for Giorno to adjust to a lot of things cause come on, he maybe resilient but he's still a 15 year old teen.

► Not only does he have towers after towers of work but i like to imagine that he still continued his education and used some of the things he learns in class in the mafia, specifically in classes like history or geography class since as a boss, he has to know every nook and cranny of Italy.

► Not to mention that emergencies happen and he always has to be ready to give out orders, even if it means being woken up at 1AM.

► God, help this child because all the things mentioned above are just an understatement of what happens on the first few months of being in charge of Passione.

► "So this is why Diavolo looks like he's about to explode whenever something goes wrong huh. "

[ibelongtowrath]

Amor Librorum - Obey Me! Satan x Reader

Satan's in heat, and you just had to wear that short little skirt, didn't you? A/N: This was a request for a Satan in heat story! My first work since my hiatus, and I hope I did it justice. I kinda went hard with Dom Satan, so please enjoy. Pairing: Satan x Fem!Reader Word Count: ~6.6k Tags/Warnings: 18+ NSFW, fisting, oral sex, degradation, breeding, rough sex, double penetration, tail sex, dirty talk, dominance, choking. NSFW under the cut!

The peaceful quiet of the library is disturbed by a loud groan of frustration, not at all surprised to find the sound originating from yourself. Your eyes open, unable to focus as you stare aimlessly at the pile of papers before you. Haphazardly-written notes cover the pages of your notebooks, some even squished into the margins, tiny doodles of demon horns and rainbows sprinkled throughout in an effort to satiate your never-ending boredom in class. God, Devildom classes are relentless, filled with endless information and not a lot of stimulation. A deep sigh falls from your lips. Rubbing your temples, you lean back in your chair, eyes closing once more.

“MC, is there anything I can help you with?”

The familiar voice startles you and you start, a small gasp escaping you as your eyes fly open. A few moments later, you finally notice Satan sitting close to the fireplace, book in hand as usual as your face heats up. 

Satan, so goddamn handsome; the one you’ve had your eye on for a while, but were always too intimidated to approach.

“Satan! I-I didn’t even hear you come in,” you stammer in embarrassment, finally beginning to collect yourself and steady your breathing.

Satan’s jade-green gaze studies yours momentarily, brows knit together before his face relaxes. A gentle smile paints his face, and he chuckles, shaking his head. His blond locks fall forward into his face, reaching a hand up to brush them back.

“I have been in here for nearly thirty minutes now,” he says. “You were so focused on your work, I didn’t have the heart to disturb you. Though now, you look a bit...frazzled, so to speak.”

“You can say that again,” you agree, making a face at your messy notes.

It wasn’t that the material exceeded your capabilities; in fact, quite the opposite. You pored endlessly over your work daily since you had arrived not too long ago, paying attention in class and asking questions, with the occasional doodle finding its way onto your notes just to break up the monotony. Your dedication to success was something the brothers, and Diavolo, admired greatly about you. 

It of course caught the attention of the Avatar of Wrath himself, even more so than his brothers. He respected you greatly, your wit and intelligence closely rivaling even his own. He felt an affinity towards you, despite your newness to the Devildom.

Feeling the intensity of his gaze, you look awkwardly down at yourself as your hand reaches to tug at the hem of your skirt, a little too short for your taste. Asmo had insisted on it, claiming R.A.D. needed a bit more excitement. Yeah, excitement for him, maybe. 

Satan’s eyes quickly move to your thighs on the chair, eyeing the way you play with your skirt. A low sound rumbles in his chest at the sight, and he grits his teeth, willing himself under control. It was that time, the few days during each Devildom moon cycle where demons felt their desire to breed skyrocket, nearly going feral to satiate the hunger deep within. The heat period.

He had grown skilled in suppressing the urge, thousands upon thousands of cycles having passed in his lifetime. That isn’t to say he never gave in to it; even he had his moments where he couldn’t ignore the need to feel release, either relieving himself with his own doing, or with the occasional acquaintance made when Asmo had dragged him to one of his opulent parties. More often than not, Satan had simply resisted the pressing need, throwing himself deep into his studies instead. 

That is, until  you  came along. You had piqued his interest, and he fully intended on studying you in his own way, eager to learn. Now you were here, in the place he went to when he was trying to escape his natural urges, wearing that short skirt of yours. That fucking skirt, tempting him like no other, and you have no clue.

Oh, the places his mind went when thoughts of you intruded were certainly risqué as is, nearly every day. He wanted nothing more than to indulge in you, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss, exploring each other’s bodies as lovers do. But right now, in the midst of his heat? He’ll throw caution to the wind, risk it all to push you down onto the nearest surface, a hand slipping between your legs. To hear your needy cries for him to fill you with the seed of his sin, each wet thrust laced with lust and desire...

“Well, thank you,” you say after a few quiet moments, oblivious to the demon’s internal struggle across the room. “I don’t think I need anything, at least not yet.”

Your words break Satan’s trance slightly as he nods, eyes moving back up to meet yours.

“Do let me know, in any case.”

“Of course.”

Sighing once more, your gaze returns to the mass of papers and notebooks before you, reaching for your Devildom History binder. Flipping it open to the period right after the Celestial War, each time period labelled painstakingly carefully, you begin to read over highlights of important events.

“MC!”

Satan’s voice calls out to you again from across the room and your eyes flit up to look up at him.

“Yeah?” you ask, wondering what he wants to tell you.

“I am glad you’re in here, and not around my brothers,” Satan says slowly. “I would stay away from them as much as you can over the next several days. They…are not always capable of exercising as much control as I am.”

“Ah.” The heavy implication behind his words is not lost on you, and you nod in understanding. 

You had been in the Devildom for a few months now, and demon heat cycles had already passed. For a brief moment, you wonder why Satan is choosing to warn you now, but decide not to question it, instead choosing to be grateful for his looking out for you.

“Of course. Thank you, Satan.”

The demon watches as you return to your notes before turning to his book before him, settling back in his chair. The heat from the fireplace, coupled with the smell of wood burning, wafts towards him in gentle waves. He feels the tension melt away from his shoulders, relaxing into the comfort of his book; his serenity. Or so he thought.

Satan looks at the words inked onto the page before him, flipping to the next, then the next;  seeing  the words but not actually reading them. The carefully-typed words seem to bleed together as his vision blurs, surreptitiously lifting his head gaze once more at your bare thighs pressed together on the chair. He pictures standing before you, pressing his own knee between them, spreading your legs apart and-

No. Suppress the urge, he tells himself, just like he’s done for millennia. So why is it so fucking hard this time?  His attention turns back to his book, willing himself to exercise the great control over his instinctive urges he had just told you he possessed, only moments ago.

Blissfully unaware, you continue to pore over your notes. God, I don’t even remember writing this much. Several moments pass as you double-check what the exam is going to cover, scribbled into the customized R.A.D. planner Lucifer had so graciously gifted to you upon your arrival in the Devildom. Returning to your notes, you flip ahead several pages, running your finger down the margins as you go, making sure everything in your notes coincides with the necessary topics.

“Huh…”

Your finger stops at a section with uncompleted notes, brows furrowing together in worry. Fuck. You had skipped out on classes that day with bad cramps, telling yourself you’d get the notes from Satan at a later date before the exam, knowing he’d be the only one who would have notes as thorough as your own.

Well, I can’t exactly ask him now. Pride and slight embarrassment get in the way of need. Pursing your lips together and exhaling loudly through your nose, you scoot the chair back and stand slowly. The hem of your skirt flares as you rise and turn towards the seemingly infinite expanse of books behind you. Your hand reaches instinctively to tug it down, willing it to suddenly grow longer to at least mid-thigh. Maybe I should concoct a spell for that: clothes that get shorter or longer at will.

Satan looks up and studies you carefully as you walk over to the historical section of the library, noting the contemplative look on your face. He chuckles at the serious look on your face, wondering if he should call out to you and ask if you need any help picking out a book. Instead, deciding it would be more feasible to show you, he sets his book down onto the table by the fireplace. His mouth opens, about to guide you towards the more recently-published Devildom history books when the sight of you before him slams his jaw shut.

Just several feet away, your body is bent over as you attempt to read the spine of a book near the bottom shelf of the bookcase, another tome already in hand, panties completely exposed. Suddenly, the rush of cool air on your backside as your skirt rides up elicits a small yelp from your lips, dropping the book to the floor as you hurriedly reach back to pull the skirt down. The fabric won’t move any further down, clearly not meant for coverage when your body bends. You straighten quickly, feeling your face practically ignite in embarrassment.

I'm going to kill Asmo! you think to yourself, quickly and carefully squatting to pick up the book you had carelessly dropped in your haste. Thank God Satan has his nose buried in a book and didn’t see …

The low rumble from deep in Satan’s chest as he growls hungrily tells you otherwise. Restraint,  the sweet restraint  that he had been so carefully cultivating since you arrived in the Devildom disappears almost instantaneously.

“You little fucking tease,” he growls, teeth bared.

Satan smirks, a predatory look etched into his handsome features as he saunters toward you. His jewel-toned gaze rakes your body up and down, the image of you bent over, panties barely covering your backside burnt into his mind like a brand. You feel your body instinctively tense, watching the way he moves; a wolf that stalks agonizingly slow over to his next meal, knowing the animal doesn’t stand a chance. A slight shiver courses down what feels like each vertebra of your spine, goosebumps cascading across your arms and bare legs in anticipation. You don’t feel scared, no - you’re turned on by the way he’s looking at you, the most indulgent treat ready to be devoured, and he knows it .

Satan’s smirk grows wider, almost turning into a sadistic grin as he nears you at last. His fingers slide gently under your chin to lift your face towards his, his beautiful green eyes even more mesmerizing in the proximity. They look like shimmering pools of tropical water, enticing you to jump in, and you want nothing more than to drown in them; but the blazing, carnivorous look hardens them, their majestic beauty mismatched with the sentiments currently behind them.

“Such a tease you are, little pet,” the Avatar of Wrath murmurs, his gaze never faltering from yours. “I only just warned you that it is the demon heat cycle, yet here you are, bent over in that short fucking skirt like a slut begging to be bred like she deserves.”

Satan speaks so calmly, in complete contradiction with the wanton desires carved into every cell in his body. Oh, he wants nothing more than to rip each and every flimsy piece of fabric off your pliant little body, cock twitching beneath the constricting fabric of his pants, but that will have to wait. Yes, he will wait until your arousal drips onto your thighs in the anticipation, keening for him, your voice laced with desperation as you plead with him to fuck you. After all, he is nothing if not a patient demon, and what fun is it to pounce on your prey without playing with your food a bit first?

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, instinctively continuing to tug down your skirt.

“Sorry? My dear, I am an intelligent demon,” he retorts. “Do you really think of me so unwise, so blind to my instinctual desires that I wouldn’t doubt your sincerity?”

Satan shrugs the green jacket off his shoulders, placing it neatly onto the back of a nearby chair. He takes a few more steps in your direction and leans forward, his lips now mere inches from yours.

“I can practically smell the desire rolling off your tight little body in waves right now, darling. I can see it in your eyes just how badly you want me.”

Satan’s thumb caresses your lip as his mouth moves to your ear, warm breath caressing your skin and smirking once more, watching the way you shiver, the sensation trickling slowly down your spine, nearly shaking in anticipation. You breathe in deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of his skin pressed to yours: the slight musk of old books, and sweeter notes of vanilla and cinnamon lingering on top. Your tongue wets your lips, eager to taste him on yours. 

“Now, now, Kitten,” he purrs, amused by your evident arousal. “Are you so willing, so eager for me to wreck you that you’re turned on merely by a few small gestures? Naughty thing…”

A familiar need washes over you, very nearly as strong as his, despite your humanity. Without realizing, a whine spills from your lips in the wake of another shiver; every fiber of your being  ache s for him, calls out to him to satiate the hunger. The visceral urge to feel him between your legs, sighing in satisfaction in the deliciously slow stretch of your warmth as he eases into you… If you were capable, you’re sure you would be growling as well.

Satan nibbles lightly on the lobe of your ear before his lips find your neck, placing soft, slow, sensual kisses on the underside of your jaw as he makes his way towards your exposed clavicle underneath the unbuttoned shirt of your R.A.D. uniform. You mewl, squeezing your thighs together, the action eliciting the wetness between your legs. Electricity pulses through you in every rhythmic beat of your heart, dampening your panties with each thump, thump, thump in your chest.

The demon laughs softly against you, delighting in your body’s response to him. His mouth moves to the delicate skin above your collarbone, where he nips and sucks it into his mouth, intent on leaving his mark on you. Each press of his lips on your skin leaves a trail of fire burning across, blazing a path in the form of reddish-purple welts imprinted into your skin.  Fuck . You hadn’t anticipated it feeling this good, hands reaching to entangle your fingers in his thick blonde hair, pulling him closer to you. 

You are his.

“Oh, naughty, naughty thing. Here I am, having barely done a thing, and yet…”

His words taper off as he runs his free hand down the curves of your body until it rests just above mid-thigh. Inadvertently, you tighten. The spark of arousal quickly turns into a star shower between your hips, each and every sensitive nerve-ending on high alert, every cell desperate to be touched, to be  felt .

“...you’re practically begging for me. Just what exactly have you been picturing me doing to you in that pretty little mind of yours, hm? Perhaps…”

Satan’s hand trails to the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your core. You shudder, a tiny moan escaping your lips as he continues to run his thumb across. Achingly slowly, his hand finally reaches between your legs, and he rubs the flimsy, now-soaked fabric of your panties against your heat, adding slight friction to your clit.

“... something like this?”

Your head drops back slightly as you moan, and his cock twitches again; the demon is almost painfully hard beneath his pants, but he’s not done playing with you just yet. No, despite his strong urges, he will be patient. After all, he’s waited thousands of years for a moment just like this. It’s in his nature to toy with you, to elicit those sweet, sweet sounds of anticipation and pleasure from your lips, knowing you’re so far gone to his charms.

“My, my, kitten,” Satan murmurs. “For someone who wasn’t actively trying to get my attention like you say, you are quite wet for me. Are you, perhaps, enjoying yourself?”

Without giving time for a response, he slides a finger under your panties, teasing it against your swollen clit as his lips crash against yours. His tongue presses against your lips, begging entrance; you grant it to him, letting your tongues explore each other's mouths. Moaning into him, you lift a leg to hook around his waist, causing Satan to break off the kiss; a low-pitched growl rumbling loudly from deep within his chest.

“I want you, kitten, I cannot deny that,” he husks. “But when you do things like that, well-”

Satan whirls you around to the table behind you, pushing you down onto it. A knee moves to your thighs, pressing into them to spread you apart ever-so-slightly. His finger hooks under the waistband of your panties, and, with a single tug, rips them off with a loud tear echoing throughout the peaceful calm of the library. Discarding them onto the floor haphazardly, a feral grin twists his handsome face.

“-you make it awfully hard to be sweet with you. Then again, I’m sure you love it rough, don’t you, my dirty little kitten?”

“F-fuck… yes…,” you whimper.

“Well, we’ll have to put that to the test in just a bit. But for now… open yourself to me.”

The carnal desire twists darkly through Satan’s veins as he watches you spread your legs, your dripping pussy on full display. He growls again, louder, hungrier at the sight of you quivering before him, your body begging for his cock without having to say a single word from those pretty lips of yours. Kneeling before you, his green nails find purchase on the soft skin of your inner thighs, digging in slightly. His lips part as his tongue moves, licking a few stripes up your sex. Soft moans against your skin sound from within him as he laps at your essence, pulling away after a few moments.

Satan looks at you then, listens to your needy whimper, fingers curling into the carved wood of the table, an uncontrollable urge to lift you up, slam you against the bookcase and fuck you into it overwhelmingly strong. Eyes glazed over with lust, a blissful, almost  mindless  look on your face; need and arousal woven into every delicate feature. Blood surges deep through his vein, heart working double time in the visceral urge he feels to make you his - and he will.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, kitten,” the Avatar of Wrath purrs, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your thighs. “I’m going to make you feel so good with just my mouth and my fingers, and you’re going to ask for my permission before you cum all over this table. Then, I’m going to bend you over and make you beg for my cock to stretch your needy little pussy out like the desperate slut you are. Is that agreeable to you?”

“Yes, yes, please …” you whimper. “Please, Satan.”

"Already begging for me, hm? That’s a good girl. That’s a very good girl.”

Satan moves his face back to your core, resuming his ministrations, alternating between sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue around it. Your back arches against the table, reaching a hand forward to thread your fingers tightly into his soft, blonde locks. He slides two fingers into your quivering pussy, smirking against your skin as a lewd cry of pleasure escapes you, knowing he’s got you in the palm of his hand… exactly where he wants you.

“Oh, pet, you taste so sweet for me, like the most indulgent dessert in the entirety of the Realms. Tell me, how good does it feel?”

“S-Satan… it feels so fucking good, don’t stop…,” you whine in response.

“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on stopping, my pretty little pet. Not until you’re properly prepared for my cock and I make you cum  all over  this table, your face twisting in pleasure, just for me.”

Satan pumps and curls his fingers inside you skillfully, pressing exactly right against your most sensitive spot. The pleasurable pressure floods your body, every nerve ending electrified. His tongue focuses its attention back to your clit, flicking and nibbling the swollen bud, working his fingers in tandem. Eyes roll into the back of your head in ecstasy and your mind is completely fogged over, able to focus only on the demon pleasurable movements. 

Hips roll towards his face, increasing the pressure of his tongue between your legs, and he moans against your pussy before sliding a third finger into you. The onslaught of sensations is nearly too much to bear, and you gasp as your pelvic muscles tighten around his fingers, signaling your oncoming release.  

“Ngh… Satan, I want to cum. Please, let me cum,” you beg, your voice laced in pleasure and desperation.

“Oh, so soon?” Satan laughs softly. “Well, you’ve been so good for me… so wet, and making those sweet sounds just for me. I suppose I can permit you…”

He places a kiss against your clit before moving his mouth to bite down hard into your thigh, leaving a bright red imprint behind. Smiling at the mark, he nods, eager to watch as you come undone before him. Fuck, does he want to see that beautiful face of yours as it twists in pleasure from his ministrations.

“Cum for me, my sweet kitten,” Satan commands.

Your head rocks back against the hard wooden table as your body writhes, feelings of pure ecstasy washing and shuddering through your body in waves. The grip of your fingers woven into his hair tightens as his name falls from your lips, each syllable pronounced with a moan between. Body jerking forward slightly, he delights in watching the slight gushing from between your legs runs down your thighs in deliciously tiny rivulets as your fluid excitement pools beneath your thighs and onto the table beneath you.

Satan pulls back slightly and smirks, lapping at your essence. Another moan sounds from his lips, tasting your sweet release, intent on not wasting a single precious drop before standing, removing his fingers from inside you. You hear yourself whine at the loss of him inside you, desperate to feel that stretch between your walls, the need for him almost physically painful. He grins at you again, a sadistic upturn or his lips as he moves his hands to his pants, making quick work of undoing his belt and zipper to free his cock. 

Watching closely, your eyes focus on him as you come back down from the high of pleasure, collecting your thoughts briefly before the sight of his hardened length before you clouds your mind over once more. You feel nearly light-headed, dizzy with arousal, solely able to think about pushing your hips in time with his as he takes you higher and higher.

Smug, Satan grabs your arm, turning you around. He pushes an arm into your back, effectively forcing you to bend you over the table. His hand reaches around your front to grope your breast through your shirt before taking a fistful of the fabric in his hand, ripping it clean off your body. A breathy gasp spills out of you, barely able to react before your bra suffers the same fate, torn into two on the floor.

“S-Satan! My uniform!” you gasp, studying the tattered garments littered onto the library floor.

“Don’t worry, kitten,” the demon coos, “I’m keeping your slutty little skirt fully intact. I want to watch my cock disappearing between your legs while you wear it.”

Using his free hand to hike the skirt up your thighs, he kicks your legs apart, letting out a loud, animalistic growl at the sight of you, before grabbing your ass cheeks in both hands, spreading you open completely. Fucking hell. How badly he wanted to slam his cock into either one of your needy set of holes, both quivering and clenching in anticipation. Sadistic grin returning, he relishes the power he holds over you at that moment.

“Look at you, spread before me like my favorite book, your needy little pussy just  aching to be stretched out and gaping from my cock,” Satan continues, his voice lowering several notes.

Unable to resist, his mouth moves between your legs, licking another stripe up your slit. Lifting an arm back, Satan brings his hand down to smack your ass, hard. A loud crack sounds across the room, and you hiss with the stinging pain. His eyes move to your ass cheek, delighting in the bright red mark left behind, deciding to give your ass a few more smacks. A groan sounds from behind you, demon form erupting, so thoroughly turned on by your breathy moans. 

“If only you could see yourself, pet, and see just what you’re doing to me. Your pussy is quivering for me, your body so desperate for me to use you and breed you like a dirty little cumslut. Isn’t that exactly what you are, you fucking tease?”

Satan’s hand moves to his cock, teasing his length up and down your dripping wet slit, the feeling of your abundant wetness coating him combined with your needy moans nearly too much for him to bear. Back arching, your hips push back against him instinctively, whining desperation growing louder, the need to feel him almost physically painful. He, too, feels the urge, painfully hard in his own hand. He needs to be inside you  now  , his own desperation beginning to cloud his thoughts… but before that, he needs to hear you beg.

“If you want it, beg me for it, kitten,” he commands.

Without hesitation, your lips part, ready to comply.

“Satan, fuck me, please!” you plead. “I need it. I need you. Please.”

His tail snakes forward and wraps tightly around your wrists, binding them together behind your back.

“Fuck, I love that sound,” he laughs, almost sadistically. “The sound of obedience without a second thought. You’re so fucking hungry for my cock and my cum, you’ll do just about anything, won’t you, you slut?”

Slowly, Satan slides his cock inside you, burying himself to the hilt. 

“I seem to have forgotten, my sweet kitten, exactly which one of us is the one in heat,” Satan laughs. “The way you begged for me to fuck you and to fill you, my pretty little kitten must be in a heat of her own. Spreading her legs and arching her back, moaning to draw in the nearest suitors, just to be fucked, to fulfill her aching needs.”

You moan, finally satisfied at having gained the delicious stretch of his generous cock between your legs. The sound quickly turns into a lewd cry of pleasure that tears from your throat, slicing cleanly through the otherwise pure quiet of the library.

“Your pussy is so hot, tight, and wet for me, kitten. Such a good little whore. I’m going to fuck you into this table until you cum. And when you do, I’m going to fill your needy hole with my cum. I’m going to breed you like the hungry little cockslut that you are.”

“Y-yes, please!” you hear yourself begging again.

Satan shudders, savoring the feeling of your constricting warmth as he begins to fuck you from behind, watching as his cock disappear between your legs. He groans at the sight, snapping his hips into you at an unrelenting pace. His chest presses flush against your back, lips finding purchase on your neck before biting hard into it, intent on leaving more marks. Each thrust elicits a gasping moan from your lips, and he growls once more, feeling the vibration of the sound against your skin.

"Oh, fuck, yes , kitten. Keep making those sounds for me,” Satan groans. “You look so good like this, so helpless for me. I love the noises you make, taking every last inch of my cock.”

Green nails rake across the delicate skin of your back, leaving angry red welts in their wake. His pace quickens, thrusts becoming more frenzied, savoring the way you moan as the pain mixes deliciously with the pleasure. The sinful melody of skin smacking against skin permeates the room, pushing your hips back against his to meet in a harmony only the two of you know. 

His head drops back in pleasure as your pussy squeezes his cock, reaching a hand between your legs to rub circles around your clit with fervor. Your pleasurable cries grow louder with each breath, until their pitch practically reaches a sweet scream. Growing, Satan weaves his free hand into your hair, yanking your head to the side roughly, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“Such a noisy thing, aren’t you?” he growls. “Do you want my brothers to hear you, striding through those double doors? You probably do, don’t you? My pretty little slut, so uncaring for having an audience, or how many get to fuck her, as long as they can satiate the ache between her legs.”

Satan releases his grip on your hair, moving his hand to press two fingers against your mouth. You part your lips, taking them into your mouth and sucking on them. He continues his merciless thrusts, working in perfect unison with the stimulation on your wet, now-swollen clit. It doesn’t take long before the fire pools low in your belly once more, your release threatening to take over you before you can even ask for permission.

“I want to cum, Satan, please!” your breathy cry rings out against the sounds of your sins.

“Yes, you do, kitten, because I’m making you feel  so  good, aren’t I?” Satan grins smugly with the words. “Cum for me. I want to feel that tight little pussy milking my cock, my name falling helplessly from your lips as you scream in pleasure. I’m going to breed you like the whore you are, and you had better not waste a single. Fucking. Drop.”

Time feels like it slows for a blissful few moments, your release building, more intensely than the first time. 

“F-fuck, S-Satan!”

Your eyes practically roll back as your head drops forward, body shuddering. The wildfire of pleasure roils relentlessly, burning through your veins second by sweet second, every cell in your body filled with the delicious feeling. Satan groans, his own release rapidly approaching. He continues to fuck into you as you cum before giving in to it, moaning loudly as he empties himself inside you almost endlessly, filling you to the brim with ropes and ropes of cum.

“Fuck, Kitten,” Satan pants, his chest heaving as he pulls out of you. “But I’m not done with you quite yet.”

His tail releases its hold on your wrists. Grabbing your arm again before you can drop forward, he gently turns you to face him, pressing his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss briefly before he flips you over onto your back. Hands move to spread your legs, pushing your knees to your chest. Satan observes you closely, peering between your legs; admiring your pussy, his seed dripping a slow trail onto the tops of your thighs before sliding onto the table beneath you. 

“I did say you had better not waste a single drop,” he muses, “yet here you are, leaking onto the table.”

Satan shakes his head before rubbing a thumb over your swollen clit. Feeling smug, he rubs just a bit faster, knowing the bundle of nerves is extra sensitive after your release, basking in the lewd noises you make.

“You fucking slut, you’re practically gaping for me. No wonder you can’t even keep all my cum inside you,” he chides, kneeling between your legs. “Perhaps I should help to ensure it stays inside of you?”

Pressing his fingers together, he slides his hand into your pussy.

“That’s my good girl,” Satan praises you, grinning at the way you continue to writhe at his touch. 

The generous stretch of your pussy with his hand feels so good, nearly as good as his cock and you moan louder and bite your lip, head dropping back. A bulge appears between your hips as he begins to pump his fist slowly back and forth inside you, the movement causing a few more droplets of his cum to spill out onto your thighs, and can't help but laugh a little.

“Oh, I suppose this just means I need to fill you up again to ensure you’re bred properly, my beautiful little cumslut,” he resolves, voice laden with silk.

Pulling his fist from between your legs, he quickly replaces it with his tail, dipping it into your slick pussy and thrusting it in and out a few times.

"Wouldn't want you feeling empty for too long, pet," Satan purrs.

The ridges play beautifully over your g-spot, and you gasp at the feeling. God, how fucking delectable you look in that moment. Eyes glazed over and blown out with lust, so far gone to him. You are his, but he isn’t done with you just yet. 

Satan smirks in satisfaction before sliding his tail out of your wet heat, moving it down and pressing the tapered tip of his tail against your puckered hole. Your eyes widen, curiosity and surprise widening your pupils.

“This time, kitten, I’m going to fuck both of your holes until you ask me to let you cum all over my cock; until you cum so  hard , you’re seeing stars.”

Satan presses his tail, thoroughly coated in your arousal, harder against your ass, a smug look overtaking his handsome features as you whine. Your legs fold back, knees pressed into your chest as you open yourself completely to him.

“Do it, Satan, please ,” you beg him, eyes pleading with urgency. “I just want to be so full of you, full of your cock and your cum. Please.”

With your permission, he slides his tail into your ass, grinning sadistically as your head rocks back against the table, clenching slightly, the sinful melody of your sweet moans the most beautiful music he has  ever  heard. He pumps it back and forth a few times, slowly at first, tapered ridges massaging the tight muscles, working to open you to him just a bit further. Feeling yourself loosen, his tail begins to move just a bit faster.

“Such a desperate little slut, begging to let me wreck your holes. I hope you’re ready now to take all of me, pet,” Satan murmurs.

“I am, I am, just please fuck me!”

“Gladly, kitten.”

Placing both hands on your hips, Satan pushes his cock back inside your needy pussy, lifting your hips and groaning at the way your tight walls quiver around him. He slams into you mercilessly, propping up your legs to rest on his shoulders, allowing him to push deeply, until he can go no further. Eyes move down to your abdomen where he is greeted by the swell of his cock between your hips. Another feral growl sounds from his chest at the sight of it, moving even faster, mesmerized by the way your body bends to his  every  move. 

“Look, pet,” he growls. “That’s right. That’s my cock swelling in your belly, stretching your tight little body out.”

Snapping his hips into you at an animalistic pace, his growls grow louder, demonic instinct taking over; the careful restraint he tried so hard to maintain completely gone at the sight of your belly distending with his cock inside it. He sees red, sees nothing but fulfilling his natural desires in the form of fucking your holes without mercy.

“Harder, Satan, harder! It feels so good, don’t hold back,” your voice rings out, words stunted by small gasps and moans. 

The demon growls in slight annoyance, reaching a hand up to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing lightly. His cock and his tail move in perfect sync, sliding in and out of your tight holes, increasing their pace as he fucks harder into you, caring little for your comfort as you bite back a scream.

“Is this what you want, kitten?” Satan’s words escape him in a feral snarl. “You like pushing boundaries, don't you, seeing exactly how much you can take or how much you can get away with? I think you may have forgotten, my sweet pet, of exactly who is in charge of your pleasure here. Perhaps you need a reminder.”

Snaking a hand between your legs, he rubs your clit feverishly. The Avatar of Wrath relishes your cries of pleasure, increasing in volume with each thrust until they near the high pitch of a scream.

“That’s right,” Satan growls. “Keep making those sounds for me, my sweet pet. Now…  cum for me for a third time tonight like a good girl.”

The sweet, sweet pressure in your ass and your pussy is too much to bear, and your release slams into you with no warning. Body writhing beneath him, your back arches, electrified ecstasy coursing through your veins as your heart pumps into every part of your body. A high-pitched scream of pleasure cuts through the air, surely loud enough to wake his brothers, but he doesn’t care.

“That’s my good girl, kitten,” he rasps, words stunted in his efforts. “I’m right behind you…”

Moving at a brutally fast pace, Satan chases his own release. It grips him shortly after you cum, and he spills into you endlessly once more, groaning and filling your pussy with his bitter seed. He pulls out of you, slowly removing his tail from your ass and keeping your legs spread, kneeling before you once more. Noting the way his cum continually leaks from your gaping pussy onto the library table, he shakes his head, chuckling again as he zips his pants back up.

“Well, I suppose that just gives me another excuse to have to keep filling you up, hm, kitten?” Satan laughs, reaching a hand out to you.

“S-Satan… thank you…,” you whimper, gazing into the mesmerizing pools of jade sea you have come to know well over the course of the night before grabbing his hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“Oh? Thanking me?” he says in surprise, a genuine grin on his face. “I suppose I have to thank you as well, my sweet kitten. Thank you for taking all of me, and for giving me all of yourself.”

Satan steps back to pull you up to sitting as you pant and try to collect yourself. He wraps an arm around your waist, bearing your weight, your eyes closing in sudden exhaustion. He lifts you up off the table, pressing soft kisses against your forehead. You protest, starting to say something about leaving your notes behind and needing to study when Satan silences you with a deep kiss, pulling away after a few moments with a wink.

“Come, pet. Spend the night with me, and we will come to collect your things tomorrow. I believe a few healing spells and a bath are in order. And then, perhaps, see if we can’t get you those missing notes you’ve been searching for.”

[nbrook29]

So a few weeks ago, @foxsake5 sent me one of those dialogue prompts, and at the time I wasn’t taking them anymore but since she’s the sweetest I just couldn’t say no 😌💖

I’m sorry for the wait, I hope this isn’t awful :)

Therefore, ladies and gentlemen:

159. [text] Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.

***

The hopes he had late last night of waking up with all his symptoms miraculously gone vanish seconds after he wakes up and gets aware of his surroundings. 

His head still feels like it’s full of cotton, eyes sting and itch at the same time, and his nose being all stuffy is the proverbial cherry on top of his misery. Before he can fully grasp this truly pathetic situation he’s in, he feels the beginnings of a sneezing fit brewing in his nostrils and sure enough, a moment later all hell breaks loose.

When he finally finishes, his chest aches with the effort and he drops his head back onto the pillow, whining at the unfairness of it all. 

Every year, it’s the same story. Spring comes, trees and flowers release tiny grains to fertilize other plants and Robbe is doomed. He’s so fucking doomed. April barely arrives and he turns into a sneezing, itching, coughing, swollen mess. It’s not pretty. Far from it actually. 

He curses himself for being stupid and believing he was cured after last year’s very mild case. Thinking about it now, it was probably due to being forced to stay in the house for the entire month more than anything. All his hopes of battling this fucking thing forever are now officially gone. His disappointment is immeasurable, his day is ruined.

And, Sander’s not here.

Why is he not here.

Why isn’t he lovingly stroking his brow to ease his sinuses pressure like he did last night.

He’s gonna have to have a serious conversation with his boyfriend because this is just unacceptable behavior.

Tugging the duvet tighter around himself to prevent the chilliness of the room from touching on his toasty warm body, he reaches for his phone. When Sander’s beautiful face welcomes him from his screen background, he yearns for his comforting presence even more. Yes, he’s being a tad dramatic, but sick Robbe has always been a drama queen, needing care and attention. Mama Ijzermans always laughs at him, saying he turns into a five year old when down with a runny nose. There may be a bit of truth to that statement, Robbe is a man enough to admit that. He just really hates having to blow his nose every ten seconds and all that, okay? Sue him.

Just as he’s about to start typing, his eye catches something flickering in the sunlight on Sander’s pillow. Frowning, he shifts closer to inspect it and discovers sprinkles of glitter covering the bottom half, and it’s honestly barely detectable, but for Robbe’s skilled eye it’s no hardship. 

Weird. Unless he somehow missed the fact that Sander turns into a sparkly unicorn every night at midnight in the last year and a half, there’s no reasonable explanation for glitter being in his bed.

He decides to leave it be for the time being and goes back to the job at hand.

R: Where are u and why aren’t u here 

S: Hello to you too, love of my life, light of my day 

R: ☹️

S: I had to run home cause I forgot I promised my mum I'll be there when the couch delivery comes

R: That's a very elaborate excuse for you abandonning me

I won’t hold it against you if you decided to leave me after being faced with my gross snotty self :(

S: You’re not gross

R: I don’t believe you

S: Okay you’re a tiny bit gross rn but I'm not afraid of your snot 💪🏻

I'll be back in 40 minutes x

R: I'll try to survive til then 🥺

I miss you 🥺

I need your cuddles 🥺

I miss your fingers in my hair, my head hurts less then 🤧

S: You're so sweet when you're all sniffly 😂

R: That's cause I need you to get your butt here faster

S: I'll try my best

R: Okay :(

Hey sander?

S: Yeah?

R: My bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall

S: 😶

R: Why is there glitter in my bed

S: Idk

R: I hate glitter

S: Maybe it's the allergies making you see things

R: 😠 what did u do why is there glitter in my bed????

S: Gotta go the delivery guy is here love youuu 

R: SANDER!!!

***

When he wakes up next time his head is still stuffed, but the feeling of warmth coming off Sander’s body and his hand playing with his hair makes it that much bearable. Scooching closer, he wraps his arm around his waist and buries his face into his black t-shirt, hoping the graphical form of Freddie Mercury in the front of it won’t mind much if he messes it with his runny nose by accident.

“I bought croissants on my way over, and there’s hot lemon tea waiting for you in the kitchen. Do you feel like getting up?” Sander asks in a gentle tone, hand stilling where it felt so good on Robbe’s scalp.

And no, he doesn’t really feel like it. So he decides to use the power of his eyes on Sander and rests his chin on his chest, giving him a pleading look that he knows his boyfriend is far from being immune to. 

“Bring it here?”

Sander regards him for a second like he’s searching for a strength inside him to say no to him, but very quickly he gives up, head shaking at himself as his fingers resume the ministrations in Robbe’s hair.

He lets out a deep sigh. “I’m such a pushover, aren’t I?” And Robbe knows he won because there’s a smile tugging at Sander’s lips and a moment later, he disentangles himself from Robbe’s grabby arms, heading to the kitchen for their breakfast.

They eat in bed, sitting side by side, shoulders brushing as they keep reaching for the goodies on the tray balanced on Sander’s thighs. Robbe has his feet tucked under his calves, his extra clinginess during sick time coming out in all force, but Sander doesn’t comment on it, just smiles and kisses his temple, looking like he doesn’t mind to be his personal teddy bear for the time being. He lets Robbe lie half on top of him when they watch silly youtube videos and draws mindless patterns on his back as his arm is probably asleep from being stuck in the same position. His fingers make goosebumps rise all over Robbe’s body and he must be thinking the shiver is the result of cold because he then meticulously tucks the comforter around him, making sure Robbe is burrito-like and safe from cold.

It’s the first time Robbe has been somewhat under the weather since they got together and he melts at every caress and gentle touch that Sander provides without even thinking about it and just in general being this five star on booking.com thoughtful boyfriend.

So yeah, Sander is passing this when-in-sickness exam with flying colors, Robbe thinks, as he leaves a few kisses on what looks like Freddie Mercury’s hair, reveling in Sander’s content sigh.

It’s an all around peaceful afternoon, except when the peace is occasionally broken with sneezing, blowing (only nose, damn it) and groaning in displeasure. Sander is taking it all like a champ, teasing him only a little and handing tissue after tissue, his face twisting at the grossness of Robbe’s state only a few times. Mostly, he just squeezes him tighter, scratches his back in that way he likes, kisses the pout out of his face despite the gross factor and makes him a fresh tea. 

He even cooks him a soup when Robbe naps out of things he finds in Robbe’s mom fridge, leaving Robbe himself gaping at him in astonishment, more so when the soup actually turns out good, because he had no idea Sander could cook something more than croques. 

The confession earns him a light jab in the ribs, light because Sander is still considerate of his state, but jab indeed because he will not stand for Robbe disbelief in his cooking skills, hell no. Robbe then keeps moaning in pleasure at the taste of every single spoon of the tomato soup to show his gratitude (and because it’s really good) and Sander rolls his eyes at him, but there’s a pleased smile on his face that lets Robbe know his ruffled feathers have been smoothed.

When they get back to just simply lounging around in bed with Robbe breathing (wheezing) loudly as he plays with Sander’s fingers, he remembers something.

Propping his head with his hand, he narrows his eyes at Sander. “So what about that glitter?”

The guilty look that immediately blooms on Sander’s face leaves him with no doubt that it was his fault. He thumps his chest in frustration.

“I’m sorry! I just, I was kinda bored after you fell asleep so fast last night, and, um, I bought some new paints yesterday,” he explains, wincing at Robbe’s growing frown. He scratches his head before he continues as if to delay the fallout. “And I wanted to try them out a bit and some of them might have contained, um, glitter in them?” he ends in a squeaky voice, waiting for Robbe to blow up, because he’s well aware of his burning hate for glitter. 

It’s like herpes. Once it’s on you, it never goes away.

“I can change the sheets later?” Sander adds wide-eyed, buttering him up as he leans in to kiss him once, twice, three times, until the scoff on Robbe’s lips melts completely. 

He could get mad, but Sander has been so sweet today and he’s looking so apologetic now, like he’s actually afraid Robbe may throw him out the door for this unfortunate incident of bringing that abomination into his house. The idea is so ridiculous it makes him giggle, and at first, Sander’s confused, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Robbe doesn’t stop, he scoffs at him and pouts.

“Ugh, you made me believe you’re gonna yell at me and put a ban on sex for a month or something, jerk.” 

He folds his arms all petulant as Robbe keeps rolling in bed, laughing, but then the sneezing fit abruptly stops Robbe’s fun and he sits up straight, letting out one sneeze after another, losing count after the eighth one. He thinks he got to twenty in the end, his new record, and when it’s finally over he feels so miserable and achy he doesn’t feel like laughing anymore. His eyes are so watery it feels like they’re gonna spill out any second now, nose rubbed so red it’s painful to even breathe and cheeks burning hot from the congestion.

Sander keeps handing him tissues, holding the waste bin in his other hand, and Robbe must look really awful because all signs of sulking are gone from his now sympathetic face as he gathers him into his arms, whispering sweet nothings into his hair as Robbe hides his face in the crook of his neck to keep his frustration tears at bay.

Sander is graceful enough to not say anything when a few escape anyway.

“Maybe you should see a doctor, huh?” he suggests after a while, hand stroking Robbe’s arm. “Maybe he will give you something?”

Robbe shakes his head, his voice raspy when he replies. “It’s no use, the doctor is gonna give me stuff that’s gonna make me drowsy. I just need to get over those first few days, it always gets better afterwards.”

He gets a lingering peck to his forehead. “Okay.” 

“Thanks for being so amazing.” Robbe looks at him with sincerity from under his droopy lids, thumb sweeping under his eye in caressing motion. Sander just smiles, shaking his head a little as if Robbe’s gratitude is silly.

“You’re always there for me when the situation is reversed, right?”

And they both know he’s not talking about allergies, of course he’s not. No more words are necessary as Robbe considers him for a few seconds, love shining in his bloodshot eyes before he shifts closer to place a kiss on his chin and then snuggles to him as close as humanly possible, his heart full when Sander does the same.

Robbe’s eyes sting too much for them to keep watching anything on their phones, but they’re also too lazy to get up and actually do something and they’re not yet hungry enough to think about preparing dinner. So to kill time, Sander quizzes him about Bowie and his lyrics, the year and a half of them being a couple pretty much skyrocketing Robbe’s knowledge about this man, so he knows the answers to 3/4 of the questions, Sander's eyes gleaming with pride as he pretends to wipe the imaginary tear making Robbe giggle and forget about his state for a while.

Eventually, Sander’s calming and sweet like honey voice lulls him to sleep, and the last thing he registers as he’s losing the fight to keep his eyes open is Sander chuckling as he promises him quietly to paint him in all of the intense colors of those glittery paints he owns soon and there’s nothing he can do to stop him.

[vocalyunho]

Losers

Part 2 of bad boy! Yunho, part 1 here

pairing — bad boy! Yunho x reader (fem)

genre — angst with a sprinkle of smut, fluff.

word count — 4k

warnings — explicit language, lots of kissing, (almost) handjob, talk about inner self and emotions.

synopsis — After the night of the dare, Yunho has to cope with his new -to him- self. Realizing that getting you out of his head was impossible, he decides to visit you. However, you misunderstand the reason he came to see you, but he needs to make himself clear.

A/N: first of, thank you all for appreciating the first part & sending me so nice messages! Secondly, I noticed (once again) that I can’t write angst to save my damn life, so I’m sorry again if this one’s messy or doesn’t reach your expectations. Your feedback is very much appreciated, please don’t stay silent :’)

Everything was spinning around him. The lights, even though dim, seemed too bright for him and his red eyes, the music was too loud and bothersome, the accrual smoke was choking him,  Yunho’s head was throbbing but his thoughts were clear in his mind. You. That green poison he’s been smoking and all the alcohol he’s consumed, did nothing. You’re still living, rent free, in his mind and he can’t do anything to get you out of there. The way your lips had nibbled on his neck and the way you’d looked at him, that night, when his hands were under your shirt were still in his mind. You looked so innocent, yet so confident. So helpless, yet so determined to win the game and he was just the conduit for that, nothing more.

Yunho walked slowly towards Hongjoong’s crowded living room and flopped on the couch clumsily. His legs spread in an attempt to feel his body and his hands rested on each side of his body as he swallowed a few times with effort. The aforementioned man has been gone for a while now. Last time he saw Hongjoong, was when a girl was dragging him into his bedroom, both probably too drunk and ready to relieve all the accumulated sexual tension built through drinking and dancing on each other. His eyes couldn’t stay open anymore, he let them fall shut as his head rested on the back of the couch. He needed some quiet for once, maybe he should leave but only after he feels ready to walk to his own apartment. He knew this would happen and he was wise enough not to ride his motorcycle that night. Every time he’s in Hongjoong’s, he always ends up like this, high and fucked up, but not like tonight. Tonight, he went beyond his limits, he was determined to get you out of his mind but all he succeeded in, was thinking of you more.

He almost felt peaceful for a bit until he felt someone straddling him and as he opened his eyes, a girl with too revealing clothes was sitting on his lap, already grinding on his crotch. He gasped at the sudden pressure on his cock and looked at her with heavy eyes “how about we go to the bathroom and you fuck me on the countertop, like this one time, remember?”, she whispered snuggling against his neck “I want those inked arms around my throat so bad”, she moaned but he couldn’t even remember who she was, let alone the fact that he was inside her in the recent past. In any other situation, he’d already be on his feet and up for some fun but now he only turned his head the other way, “I need to leave”.

“oh c’mon”, she tried to hug him but he was fast to break free from her embrace “I said I need to leave”, he moved her on the seat next to him and stood up, heading for the door.

“dude, are you leaving already?”, Wooyoung shouted from the other side of the apartment but Yunho only wore his leather jacket and moved his two fingers, gesturing goodbye to him.

Once he was home, the bed seemed more captivating than a hot shower. His legs couldn’t keep him up longer, after all. Everything was still spinning, except now he’s in the safety of his own home and random girls aren’t coming up to him asking for sex in bathrooms. He fell asleep in a matter of seconds and, maybe, these little hours he slept where the only ones you weren’t wandering around his mind, in the conscious part, at least.

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

Waking up early everyday to study isn’t the easiest thing, especially when you work late every night. If you wanna keep your health you’ll have to quit that job, but for now you need the money it offers.

Lately all your days are either spent in the library or in a cafe, studying for the upcoming exams and the nights...they’re always spent in the bar, moving around filled glasses and taking them back empty. And that’s exactly what’s happening now and you still have an hour to go till you can get back to the warmth of your sweet home. 

Bars are...lovely. Well, not your favourite places to be, but considering that most youths spend their time in clubs, bars are much more preferred. The music is low enough to share a good conversation with someone, but still loud enough to enjoy the melodies themselves. The decoration is much more genteel than clubs and cafes, the clients more kind and free to come in dressed in anything they find pretty or comfortable. The vibes are more chill, collected, nonchalant, if you will, and there’s a balance in everything that’s hard to find in other places. 

You’ve been moving around beautifully decorated cocktails all night and if it wasn’t for the -not so high- heels you’ve been wearing, you’d be enjoying doing so. You can feel your heels and ankles starting to burn but there’s only an hour left, you can do it. 

Once you were back to take the newly made drinks from the bartender, the door of the bar opened fast and a male entered. Usually, you know who enters. The bar is small and by far not one of the famous ones in the city, so the clients are pretty much the same and especially on weekends. But this one…no, you didn’t know him. He wore black jeans and a black leather jacket with a white t-shirt underneath. You noticed the brown timberland shoes, not many people around you wear those, and his features…you couldn’t identify them due to the sunglasses he was wearing and his head that hang low. This man really entered a bar which already had dim lighting, at 2AM, with sunglasses on. Your eyebrows furrowed and the bartender gestured for you to take his order once he was sat. A helmet hang from the man’s right hand and moving slowly, he found a table on the very back of the place to sit. It felt like you were in a movie, where a stranger enters a pub, and everyone stares at him until he takes a gun out and starts shooting.

You moved to his table with your mind still on how your feet hurt and spoke politely “hello, what can I get for you?”

“you”

“excuse me?”

He raised his head and your insides felt like they twisted…not in the bad way, actually exactly the opposite. Yunho stared at you, you assumed, but after he took the sunglasses off you were sure he did. But he wasn’t the same. Even with the dim lighting of the place you could see how his eyes were red, he must’ve been (crying) smoking something. It wouldn’t be beyond belief, if he did.

“I wanna talk to you”, he spoke with a deep voice and it reminded you of his voice the night of the dare.

“I’m sorry, I’m working. Now what can I get for you?”

“when’s your shift over? I’ll wait”, he spoke fast as he rested his elbows on the table, moving his upper body forward. His body language proved tension spreading in his system and his voice sounded desperate, but you couldn’t figure out why.

“what can I get for you?”

“please”

“is a whiskey fine?”

“it’s important”

“is a whiskey fine?”

“…yeah”

He stayed there, drinking and following you with his gaze. Truth is, there was nothing for you to talk about, even if you really wanted to, too. The only real interaction you had was that night and you had made it clear to him that it should be forgotten and especially not be told to anyone. Yet there he was now, wanting to talk to you and God knows how he found out you worked there.

When it striked 3AM, you headed for the ‘employees’ only’ room to change the uncomfortable outfit and the even more uncomfortable shoes. Your mind was still on Yunho though who was out there waiting for you and a million questions flooded your mind. How did he find out about the bar you’re working for? What is the important thing he wants to talk to you about? Will he follow you to your apartment? And what- “hey”, you flinched at the sudden voice and turned your head fast only to see him right in the entrance.

“you’re not allowed to be in here”, you said calmly as you tied your second shoelace.

“I need to talk to you”

“we have nothing to say, now please leave. Only employees can enter here”, you stood up, heading for your locker to take your forest green jacket as he remained silent. You wore it fast and took your backpack, ready to leave but once you turned around he was there, right behind you with his head bent forward to reach your eye level.

“fuck, you scared me”, your back hit the locker and your hand reached for your chest where your heart beat faster at the abrupt presence.

“I felt something”

“I told you to leave, I’ll call the manager”

“I’ve never felt anything before…for anyone”

“YUNHO, LEAVE”

“you still remember my name”, he smiled and let his eyes fall on your lips and you really thought he must be high on something.

An awkward silence filled the room and his words got replayed in your head “ask that one more time and I’ll make sure you never forget it again”. He had achieved it…you couldn’t forget his name ever again. You couldn’t forget anything that happened that night ever again.

You looked anywhere but at him until he grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger and forced your head up to look in his eyes. The inked thumb played with your bottom lip, lightly pulling it down to expose your bottom teeth as his eyes remained glued on yours. You fought the urge to suck on it, but your knees weakened just at the thought. He looked good, like a god in your eyes.

“You made me like this”, he pointed at himself.

“like what?”

“look at me, I’m a wreck!”

“I did nothing!”

“I can’t get you out of my fucking head! I keep trying and trying but-!”

“Yunho, please leave”, you pressed your eyebrows together, raising them at the same time. If he continued you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your thoughts locked inside your mind for long.

“You’re ruining me!”

He widened his eyes and his voice got higher at that, like he just realized. If only he knew he was ruining you, too…but you thought he was ruining you in a completely different way. You had succeeded in winning the dare, but not in what he had warned you about. Not one day had passed without thinking of him and you were so mad at yourself for that, yet you couldn’t stop it. And every time you’d randomly see him on campus, your mind would go back to the dare and how he held you and how he had stopped his hands from moving when he realized you weren’t comfortable and how you so wanted to know him more than that, to know the real him. You were falling for him but, of course, you wouldn’t accept it. It’s not logical, you can’t fall for someone you don’t know. However, it all felt familiar. It felt like you were, again, reading one of those -way too corny- romantic novels in which the girl fell for the bad guy. They always ended with the guy taking the one thing he wanted and the girl having a broken heart and right now…you feel like you are the protagonist in one of those novels and he…he’s only there to take that one thing he always wants (however, me as the omniscient writer, I can guarantee you he meant you were ruining him the same way he ruined you).

“fuck, I need you”, he crashed his lips on yours fast, still holding your chin and now his other hand found your waist and held on it tightly but still loosely enough for you to break free if you wanted, but you didn’t. Your eyes fluttered close and you gave in, in an instant. How could you not? All you’ve been thinking about is him, but you knew it wasn’t right. He is Yunho, he’s a player, he’s nothing like you, he’s not for you. But the sweetness of the awry is too captivating not to give in. Your lips moved against his in an open mouthed kiss, your tongues danced together and your saliva got mixed with his, until he groaned and broke the kiss in need of air. You rested your head against the locker and looked up at him, his head hang low again…

“don’t you have anything to say?”, he spoke softly and you realized it was the first time you ever heard him talk like that, without anger or sarcasm in his voice.

“what do you expect me to say?”, you were too stuck to your mindset to notice the little things “that I’m glad you can’t forget how well you fucked me or to thank you for coming back for a second round?”, it hurt to say these. But Yunho was always a player, he always slept with girls and never spoke to them again and you obviously were one of them now.

“what? No”

“then what?”

“don’t you understand?” his eyebrows furrowed as he took a step back to take all your features in “I’ve never felt anything like this before. It was all about sex to me…always! I only cared about that. I only wanted my needs to be taken care of but that night…of the dare, I felt things for you and I got so fucking scared…that wasn’t me!”, a vein on his forehead was visible “I’ve warned all the girls I’ve ever been with not to catch feelings for me because I won’t be there for them. I’m not the type to get in relationships because attachment, that shit scares me! Yet, after we…did it, it hurt me to think I was only your way to win a game, a fucking game!”

“maybe it was your turn to feel how the girls you’re playing with, really feel”

That hurt.

He stayed silent for a bit. His mind was hazy and he couldn’t lie to himself, he had thought that this was the revenge that had been waiting for him.

“I’m a fucking asshole and I deserved it and maybe…this was a lesson for me but-” his expression proved pain “I can’t stop thinking about you and I hate myself for that…”

“…because I wanted to be more than just a dare to you…”

Your heart felt like it��d fly out of your chest and your breath got caught in your throat.

  “…but I know I can’t change your mind about me, goddamnit!”

His fist hit the locker next to you, before turning around to walk in the room. Your heart clenched, realizing the meaning of his words. You weren’t the only one feeling differently. His head looked towards the ceiling and the new silence that filled the place gave you the chance to think and, maybe, now you know why his eyes have been red and it’s not from smoking something.

He’s hurting…and it’s the first time he’s feeling something like this, this type of pain.

He is finding himself, the self that’s been hiding under the tough, bad guy image he’s exposing to everyone. He needed this pain to finally see inside him and find the real him.

But he was wrong about one thing. You never had a complete opinion about him, therefore there was nothing for him there to change. There was only empty space where he could build the image about him in your head, and you wanted him to do that. You wanted him to put the foundations of his real image.

“Yunho”

“I’ve never let myself get attached to anyone but I only now realized that it’s uncontrollable. All this time I wasn’t controlling who I’ll get attached to and who not, it just didn’t happen…until I met you”. He, finally, turned to face you again.

He walked close to you again “and I know this will make me sound like a loser and, maybe, I am but…I think I’m falling for you”.

Your heart skipped a couple of beats, you’re sure about that, but his eyes were the most genuine ones you’ve seen in a while “Yunho-”

He shushed you by inhaling, ready to speak again but you were fast to prevent him “no, Yunho let me talk”, his eyes seemed sad but you got a hold of his hands that hang on each side of his body, to bring his attention back on you.

“I think I’m falling for you too”

You said fast and his breath got caught in his throat. Of course he didn’t expect to hear that. Your mind was going crazy at the moment with all the things you wanted to say but decided to only speak the important ones.

“…but I don’t think it’s right. You’ve been playing with girls all your life Yunho, maybe it’s in your nature, I don’t know…”

“but I can’t lie, I can’t stop thinking about you either…”, your eyes flickered between his.

You wanted him and he wanted you, it was obvious by both parties by now. You were willing to help him discover his real self and you were especially willing to let yourself fall in love but you were too inexperienced too to bear the pain it could cause you, if it didn’t work out.

“…I felt things too you know but you don’t know, even a little, how love feels and I can’t just be your lab rat, just one more experience for you. I can’t let myself fall deep and then have my heart shattered, I can’t take it!”, your eyebrows raised sympathetically and tears threatened to wet your cheeks.

“I know how it is to feel loved and now…I think I’m ready to be the one who loves, I’m ready to learn and-”

“I’m scared, Yunho”, your eyes met the marbled floor between your bodies.

“I’m scared too”

Both of you weren’t the most experienced people when it came to love and, especially, Yunho. But you wanted to try and learn and, even, fall for each other and Yunho didn’t want to give up on the first strong feelings he’s ever had. This meant something.

“but we can…”

“…discover ourselves together…just give me a chance-”, he held your hands in his. His eyes were glistening, like a million pieces of hope were in them.

“I don’t know, Yunho”

“let me make this work out and, maybe, if everything turns out well…I can call you mine”

Those tears that had been threating to fall, did wet your cheeks now as you looked at him again. No one had ever told you something like this before and you never thought you’d hear it for the first time from him. Yunho isn’t the guy everyone thought he was, he is much more than that. Maybe, he’s the meaning behind the saying: don’t judge a book by its cover. Yunho had never let his real emotions take over him and even if those emotions tried, he had his self locked up. It’s like his hidden self couldn’t take it anymore and when he met you the real him broke free from the cage Yunho, himself, had him locked up. If you connected all the dots, it made sense now. Yunho isn’t just a player, he’s an unexperienced boy who only wants to feel real attraction, instead of just the physical one. And maybe if you gave him the chance, he would.

“and I want to call you mine, too”

You’re indeed the protagonist of your own romantic novel but, no, this one won’t end like all the others.

“hell, I so wanna call you mine”, you shut your eyes tightly and exhaled…and your next words got Yunho dumbfounded.

“…let’s take it slowly…”

“…let’s start by being friends”

Yunho’s heart had never clenched so hard before. He thought he’d lose his balance right then and there and collapse like a child who had just found out that his brother had eaten the very precious sweet he’s been hiding from everyone. A soft frown found his lips as he spoke the first words that came to his dizzy mind.

“can friends do this?”

He cupped your cheeks and you felt his thumbs rub your apples, but you were the one to lean in this time. You kissed him hesitantly but he kissed back with no second thoughts. You didn’t wanna be his friend…you wanted to kiss his neck and his lips and his cheeks and all his being and, maybe, love him too. He took your arm and threw it over his shoulder and you wrapped them both around his neck. This kiss was slower than before, more passionate like there was meaning behind it. A tingling feeling was sent down your spine when you noticed none of you rushed to make it deeper. It was just enough to feel how the emotions he was experiencing were new to him and you were sure now, you’re willing to help him welcome them.

“because, if they can, I don’t think I’ll be able to call you friend for long”

“friends don’t do what I’m about to do either”, you said and let your hand slide down all the way from his neck, through his t-shirt, and to his jeans and rested it on his soft member. You didn’t know why you did that, but you knew the vibe was so different from the last time you had touched him there, more endearing, if you will. He stiffened sensibly and let his head hung low as a small moan left his lips. His hands found the hem of your t-shirt and, letting them slip underneath the fabric, he grasped your sides with the whole of his large palms.

Your lips found each other’s again in a sloppier kiss and with eyes flattered shut and heavy breaths against the other’s skin, your hand slipped under the jeans and the thin material of his boxers. You caressed him slowly, receiving a hum turned into a groan from him.

“yeah they don’t…but losers who fall for each other, do”

He said and pinched your sides making you take your hand out of his jeans. You stared at him for a while. Maybe if you both tried, you could learn together and you could fall together and you could help each other find your real selves.

Collecting his thoughts, for the first time after a long time, Yunho took your hand in his. You walked out of the ‘employees only’ room and the bar, with him guiding you like you didn’t know the place.

“Let me take my friend on a friend date for friends”

“I would accept if it wasn’t 4am…”

You wouldn’t be able to call him friend for long, either…

[bonny-kookoo]

Lost Boy (K.TH x Reader) ☁️(💜)🎀

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Angst, a bit of fluff ‘n romance, Good Girl AU

Warnings: swearing, a lot of swearing, Traffic Accident, injuries, confused Tae, it’s a mess okay, smol tough girl reader, kind of idiots to lovers lmao, did I mention they swear? Kinda fluffy? Also a sprinkle of comedy, best boy Yeontan, just read it it’s a mess

Summary: He already knew that time wasn’t playing in his favor, every day being a new possibility for you to find someone better than him, making all of his efforts go to waste and his sweet little game end- yet somehow the world just seemed to have given him a wake up slap in the face. Maybe he needed to stop playing. Maybe he needed to face the truth. Even if it would hurt more than he liked. But hey; at least he’s not alone in the waiting room of this goddamn hospital.

This is a spin-off to Good Girl; congrats if you smelled that coming from reading the Taehyung and Jungkook scene in Brave Girl!

Taglist: @ggukkieland @taetaes-aegi

The fact that he knew so little of you should scare him. It really should, because even though he only knew of your secret obsession with anything soft and cute, and the fact that you wore chokers like it was the most normal thing in the universe, he was whipped. This wasn't just something he felt like he could get over by simply fucking you- no, this felt way worse. This was something more serious than that, and he already saw Jungkook laughing at his face and reaching his hand out for winning his bet with Taehyung that he'd eventually fall for someone. Taehyung had been sure he'd win that bet for sure, very much satisfied with what he had, but eventually you had walzed into his life, in your full small and angry glory.

He'd been annoyed with you at first, really. The way you seemed so fucking grumpy at everything, your sarcasm basically your main language at this point, yet you always looked so disgustingly adorable with your arms crossed and eyes sharp looking at him, as if you could stare him down to ashes if you tried hard enough. He really hated how much he loved the way you never let someone belittle you- how you always had a sassy comeback ready to be thrown out, how you made heads turn just by simply existing in a room. He hated how he found himself looking at you when you weren't paying attention, too worried he might come off creepy if you found him staring. He hated how much you hated him.

Even if he wanted to actually ask you out on a date, all of that had been buried anyways after your last fight. And you were right; he really was just a mean old soul trapped in a young mans body. And that was another thing he despised about you. He hated how you were right.

Kim Taehyung was fucked. Whatever plans for the future he'd made prior, he'd noticed already that he could surely throw them into the next fire he'd encounter.

Everyone else would've ran over to the hospital mentioned instantly, not caring about anything, but he found himself lowering his phone painfully slow, almost as if he had to take a minute to grasp what just happened. This wasn't real. He closed his eyes and began to count. Typically, this helped him to get himself out of any dream he would find himself trapped in, but when he got to ten, he began to accept that this was actually reality.

Would you even want him there? Maybe you'd just kick him out, considering that your last conversation had been anything but friendly. You weren't friends, you weren't fucking each other, hell, you weren't even enemies or anything alike; you had made that quite clear with him. But why was he suddenly walking to his car keys, ushering Yeontan to stay before he walked outside, calmly driving to you?

He didn't know, but he also didn't think about it. The entire way he grew more and more uneasy, his entire being tensing up the closer he got, as if he had to take his final exams again. But this time he couldn't cheat his way out of things. This time, this wasn't something he could slip his head out of before the noose could be tied. Because for the first time he had to face reality.

How was he supposed to face you? You both have had radio silence for two days straight, he didn't even know why the hell he had been contacted-

It was a good thing he had been parking already, because his eyes suddenly widened comically.

'You've been marked in her phone as an emergency contact, so we thought we should inform you.'

Now why the fuck would you set him as an emergency contact, him of all people?!

"Yeontan would be happy to meet you. He loves grumpy people." He said, smiling at you teasingly, yet you could still spot how tired he actually was deep down. You furrowed your brows, rolling your eyes at him. It was a gesture never meant to be cute, but he couldn't help but lean his cheek on his hand, looking at you with almost fond eyes.

"I still can't believe that a person like you has such a cute dog." You exclaimed, reaching for the cup of water on the small plastic table. "Such a waste." You said, yelping in an offended matter when he took the cup from you, calmly, yet still without a frown or a pout as you'd expected.

"He could be yours too, you know?" He said, slight smile ever so present as he dipped the plastic straw into the cup, giving it back to you. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold it for you, he had to give you at least some sort of feeling that you were still independent and didn't need his help, even though you did. It surprised him and yourself a little how he seemed to remember that about you.

"That sounds like you're selling me your dog." You mumbled, chuckling a bit at that before taking a sip. Taehyung watched you carefully, making sure you didn't overdo it like the nurse had told you to. He grabbed his chest playfully, and you smiled again.

"Now, I would never do that!" He exclaimed, mirroring your smile before he yawned, stretching a bit to get his muscles to stop cramping up. "I meant, you know-" But you started to inhale, ready to tell him you sadly knew exactly what he wanted, but his face turned a little grim again, seriousness evident in his tone. "No, not like that." He said, rubbing his hands over his face as if that would help him. "Not to screw you, I don't want to fuck you anymore-" He said, and groaned at you and your raised eyebrows, an offended but amused glint in your eyes at seeing him struggle. "God, no, I still really wanne fuck you- wait I don't mean it like that- shit." He said, leaning back a bit too forceful, hearing the plastic chair creak a bit. "Jesus why is this shit so difficult?" He said, letting his head fall back, the mask he'd pulled down covering the underside of his chin, making his face appear less sharp than you usually saw.

"Its fine" You said, putting the cup down, and leaning back against the pillows again. "I know what you mean." You said, thinking about what he had just implied. But was that really a good idea? Getting close to someone had always been dangerous, but giving yourself to a man like Taehyung? That was pure bullshit and plain boring suicide. But maybe you didn't mind that much. His next words however, made the tips of your ears turn pink.

"Why did you put me as an emergency contact?" He said, actually serious. His voice was low, calm, and he didn't look at you, simply to give you a bit of space, to not pressurize you into answering a specific way. This had been bothering him ever since he reached the hospital, ever since he had to get up every morning at eight to be there for you when you got breakfast. Not that he minded though.

You shrugged. "To be honest, I just wanted to see what you would do in a case like this." Your explanation made him pay more attention to you than ever. "I did it when I noticed the busdriver had skipped our scheduled break. I kinda had a feeling something would go wrong when he started yawning like, every thirty seconds." You said, watching the blanket over your legs. Your fingers played with the fabric, simply to give you something to do and to keep you from looking to your side, where you could practically feel the readheads eyes on you like a red laser dot of a sharpshooter, ready to pull the trigger.

"What did you think I would be doing?" He asked, wondering.

Again, you simply shrugged it off. "I wanted to know if you would actually be there." You said. I wanted to know if you cared enough to face something like this with me. That was what you wanted to say, but you refrained from doing so, knowing he would maybe understand what you said. He scratched the back of his head, before he crossed one leg over the other. His eyes widened at your next words. "Thank you." You said, grabbing the cup again to try and cover up the embarrassment in those words. He stood up with a smile, taking the cup away from you, his face painfully close to yours. Yet he only smiled, and he looked so young suddenly that you couldn't help but stare a bit dumbfounded.

A hand ran over your head playfully, before he grabbed his keys. "I'm gonna go shower. I'll be back for dinner. Don't choke on that!" He said tipping his head in the direction of your water cup, and you spoke up before he could go out the door.

"Taehyung!" You said, and he looked at you over his shoulder. "I uhm.. tell the dog I'm gonna get on his nerves for a bit. They're letting me go on friday after 12." You tried to casually imply. "Oh and I like chinese food. But I guess pizza does the job too."

Taehyung took a bit, facial features confused until his entire being realized what you just said. "I- YES! I mean-" He cleared his throat, answering you a bit more serious. "Yeah sure, I'll get shit ready, uh, yes. Yes.!" He said, suddenly walking way faster than he did before. He poked his head in after some seconds, returning, making you tilt your head at him. "I- uh... forgot to say bye. Bye!" He said, practically running out of the hospital, his facemask thankfully hiding how red his face actually was.

The third trashbag had found its way out of his apartment and next to the garbage bins outside, as he took in a deep breath of air- cold and crisp, waking him up a bit. He'd been cleaning for the entire time after he'd spend a bit of time with you at the hospital during dinner time, practically forcing the plain hospital food down your throat, since you'd refused to eat several times. It wasn't like his apartment was an entire bombing site- he never let any food go bad or leave it laying around. But he had been living alone for so long, never really having visitors over at all, that he'd just stopped caring after a while. Yet for the first time when he came home, he actually saw the chaos of empty plastic containers and old opened mail and newspaper lying around. He saw his apartment for what it had actually become; not a home, but a snailsshell. It had become almost a prison, a pure reminder that he was unable to be alone. But things changed. His windows were open when he returned inside, washing machine in his bathroom buzzing away with his blankets inside, another load of laundry waiting for its turn next to it. Yeontan had been running around excited, interested in his owners change of mind concerning their home- and suddenly Taehyung saw traces of his Shell actually becoming a home. It smelled less stuffy, his laminated floor looking almost unrecognizable to him after he'd vacuumed. Sure, some empty boxes were still sitting in the corner, and the dishes in the kitchen were still waiting to be cleaned, but he'd do that tomorrow.

He knew that maybe he was just caught in that little bit of hope, that tiny string of rope you'd tossed him to grab onto, but he knew it would be worth it. He didn't know why, but at some point, he really did develop honest feelings for you, far away from just plain sexual desire. Sure, you were an absolute treat to look at, and he still honestly thought about what you would look like underneath him- but there were different fantasies now as well. What would it feel like holding you? Would you be okay with him holding you while you both slept next to each other? Did you move much in your sleep? Did you eat breakfast in the mornings, or not? He started to wonder if you'd let him put his hand against yours like in those cheesy movies just to relish in the size difference. He wanted to do these absolute weird things like kiss you when you just woke up even if you had morning breath, he wanted to be confused as shit buying you items for your period, he wanted to take care of you when you were sick even though he hated germs with a passion- he wanted everything, the good and the bad. Was this what falling in love was like? He couldn't tell anymore.

The last time he'd been in love ended in the love being blown out like a match in the wind, burning passion slowly becoming dull and pressurizing. It still was a painful memory to think of, but it had gotten better; he knew they both had made the right decision to end things before they become toxic, starting a new life without the other in different places. Taehyung himself had not tried searching afterwards, content with the attention he got whenever he wanted to; yet always reminding anyone that he wasn't going to turn into a boyfriend- he just craved sexual pleasure, nothing more, nothing less. He never brought anyone home to his place however- his own apartment a sacred place it seemed, yet the real reason had actually been his mess- and the intimacy it would portray for him. He didn't kiss much, always getting straight to the point right away, quiet and fast, as he liked to call it. Those were nights he loved, yet al of this had stopped when your words had reached him.

"You're really fucking lonely, aren't you?"

Well yeah, he was, he couldn't really deny it. But he wanted to change that, and with your help, he maybe would be able to.

"Taehyung really, I could've carried that!" You whined, and he couldn't help but laugh a little, actually enjoying the way you couldn't stop bantering even with your pink crutches next to you on your hospital bed, dressed in black leggings, fuzzy socks, and a plain oversized black shirt. He simply grinned, giving you your crutches before throwing the last bag over his shoulder, waiting for you to hobble after him. He was being considerate, pressing the elevator buttons for you, and holding doors- making the nurses swoon a bit at his gestures, yet you only rolled your eyes at his over the top gentlemanism. Inside you actually liked it, found it adorable how he was being so utterly desperate, but you rather ate another hospital meal instead of saying that openly.

His old 2004 Santa Fe was a little high for you to just slip in, so he made sure to help you inside the passenger seat, before you turned around quickly, spotting the excited puppy in the back. "Oh my- FUCK are you TINY!" You squealed just as excited, reaching for the puppy in the back, making Taehyung chuckle as he closed your door, getting into the drivers seat himself. "What the hell Kim Taehyung! How can you own a dog like that, this is ridiculous!" You said, face in absolute happiness as you ruffled the dogs fur, making him smile. He simply put his hand on your shoulder, silently asking you to sit properly so he could drive, and your ears turned a bit red at the warmth of his hand on your skin. "Sorry." You mumbled, looking outside the window, watching cars and buildings pass by. You wouldn't say it out loud as usual, but you actually liked Taehyungs car, even though people always told him to get a new one. It was homey, felt comfortable, and with him behind the steering wheel you actually felt quite safe. Even though you could spot a few candy wrappers in the car door, some hair probably belonging to the panting dog in the bag, and the windows werent really squeaky clean, you liked it. Because it felt honest.

"Alright, start thinking about what'cha wanna eat." He said, and you noticed how he set his indicators to the left, where a Burger King sign was brightly shining above the cars parked underneath. Your eyes widened, already searching for your wallet, when he clicked his tongue. "I'm paying, no buts. I'm taking a burger, some fries, and a shake. You?" He said, not looking at you but paying attention to the road, making you swallow as your eyes suddenly decided to lock onto his hands, rings clicking against the material of the steering wheel as he turned to the left, entering the drive thru. Did you ever have these moments where your brain just decided to randomly reboot, forcing you to stare at a spot without being able to look away? Yeah well fuck, it seemed like yours decided the delicate silver band around his pinky finger had been the perfect spot. Taehyung chuckled, flicking your forehead gently before smiling at you.

You shook your head, simply scrambling out what you always ate, and he nodded, repeating it to the microphone next to his car, elbow leaning on his opened window. If he wasn't such an asshole you could totally see him as a perfect guy- he was actually a nice person to have around, he had the looks too, only his attitude had always been a problem for you; him being an absolute manwhore in your eyes was just too much of a wall to overcome. Yet it seemed like he had been trying to take this wall down for you, brick by brick, and as much as you hated to admit it, it seemed to be working. The more time you spent with the actual Kim Taehyung instead of Taehyung the one who flirted with everything that had a pulse, you had less and less to complain about. Even worse, things that had been annoying before suddenly became normal or even kind of cute in your eyes; the best example being his bright boxy smile. It had been something that had made you roll your eyes previously, now you found yourself laughing along a bit, finding it charming if you were honest. This was fucking stupid.

You were falling for Kim Taehyung, the guy you fucking hated. Just great.

"Did you actually clean up?" You asked, wobbling into his apartment after he'd helped you slip off your shoes, looking at his living room, eyes falling onto the couch. "Damn. Screw those monthly subscription boxes, you're more surprise than I could ever get." You mumbled, and he grinned a bit, crouching down in front of his couch before pulling something out. "A sleeping couch too? Neat." You grinned, as he made quick work of making a bed out of it. You found yourself actually starting to smile in a fond manner as he took so much care into what he did- making sure the pillows were properly placed, pulling the table a bit further away so you'd have enough space, and more. He suddenly looked up before becoming a bit shy.

"I uh.. The couch is bigger than my bed so, I guessed it was better to let you sleep here." He said, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Jungkook slept over once I think. Said it was comfortable so, hopefully he didn't lie." You nodded, thanking him, before he helped you sit down, huffing surprised when you pulled on his arms, making him almost fall ontop of you, face only centimeters away from yours. You looked at him for a bit before placing a kiss onto his cheek- and he felt like he was back in school, receiving the first gesture of kindness from a classmate. He'd fucked six ways till sunday and back, yet he was frozen in shock by that small kiss, and it wasn't even on his lips. His eyes looked at you, confused, and he got even more scrambled up in the head when you ran a hand trough his hair, smiling contently.

"Hm.. You should stop bleaching it. Makes it feel weird after a while, like I'm touching one of those cheap fake fur coats my mom used to have." You mumbled, before tapping his nose. "I'm eating your fries by the way!" You sang, already crawling towards the paper bags hiding the delicious food inside. Taehyung sat down in front of the couch, hands leaning on the fabric of it, head falling ontop of his arms.

"Don't play with me." He mumbled, and you stopped fumbling around with the bag to look at him. "I know I.. "He raised his head, and you could see how serious he looked. "I know I've fucked up big time but Y/n." He said, looking at you with a pained expression. "I've never once toyed with you, never. Don't do this to me. Please." He said, before trying to get up. You moved towards him, throwing your own principles out the window as you grabbed his neck, kissing him. He pulled away after a moment, eyes closed as if he was in pain. "If you don't mean it sto-" He said, before you kissed him again, more urgently, wincing as you sat weirdly on your leg, making him pull you down onto his own, his large hands reaching for the sides of your face, loosing himself in the feeling of your lips against his. This was everything and more to him, a feeling so uplifting he thought he might get dizzy, the faint salt on your tongue left from the few fries you'd already stolen in the car, everything made him feel high. His senses felt like they were sparking pure electricity, his breathing heavy, as he forced himself to calm down. You did too, resting your forehead against his, as he suddenly chuckled. "Please tell me this isn't just because you pity me." He whispered, and you shook your head, grinning.

"Please tell me you won't fuck this up Tae." You said in an equally quiet tone of voice, and he sighed.

"I wont. Please say my name again like that." He pleaded, and you happily complied.

"Taetae." You mumbled, and his voice made a pleased hum inside his throat.

"Again." He asked, his hands wrapping around your back.

"Tae." You answered, chuckling a bit as his grin widened.

"Again." He said with a laugh cutting him almost off.

"I like you Tae." You said. "I really like you." Slowly leaning your head on his shoulder, he pulled you closer.

"I know." He said, chuckling when you playfully hit his chest. "I really like you too."

And for the first time he didn't mind being immature. He didn't mind as long as it was with you.

"I'm not letting you sleep on the couch with me though."

"Fair enough young lady, I'm gonna go to bed now."

"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight!"

"...Taehyung, can Yeontan sleep on the couch with me though?"

Taglist: @ggukkieland @taetaes-aegi

[msawesomegeek]

Alita battle angel – Movie review

A/N: look at me, watching a movie. Yay. However it might be me thats hungover and procrastinating doing an exam. Anyways. I have a lot of thoughts on this movie.

SERIOUSLY SPOILERS AHEAD, skip the whole first section if you wanna avoid.

Okay, so, Alita battle angel, is a two hour movie that came out last year. It is about Doctor Ido, who in the scrapyard finds a core that's still alive and gives her a body. Alita wakes up and doesn't remember who she is. She learns the ways of this world in Iron city and about the floating city Zalem, and we meet (I'll be honest here, I liked him but I cannot for the life of me remember his name right now so let's call him whatshisface for now.) whatshisface, he is the love interest and he really wants to go to Zalem. We are also introduced to Vektor a rich guy who runs motorball, a popular sport. He is working with Ido's ex wife and she also has a hard on for going back to Zalem. A bunch of stuff happens, Alita finds out she's a marsian warrior, gets in a fight with a bounty hunter after becoming one herself. Enters the motorball tournament to get money to give to whatshisface so he can go to Zalem, action happens. She finds out no one goes there intact only in the creepiest way possible, talks to the person whose been the puppet master all along. Enters the big tournament to become an ultimate champion to go to Zalem. The end.

Mostly spoilerfree zone now.

So. Normally I do not go into that much detail about a movie's plot, but I wanted to do it here to show just how much this movie is just far too complicated. It suffers, sadly like a lot of action movies these days, from sequel syndrome. In which you can tell they wanted to cram a lot of info into this movie but also have a lot of exposition for the sequel, which ends up needlessly complicating and confusing the plot of the movie that you're already watching – think Suicide Squad or Justice League. The worst part of this is you're watching a movie hoping for an ending and then you're not getting it. A movie should be a story told from beginning to end, not beginning and then we reveal that there is a final boss and you just killed the small boss.

Besides that, I also wanted to write out the storypoints to show how weird and confusing it gets. I get wanting to build tensions and conflict, but I honestly felt like it tried to do everything, meaning we didnt really have time to get interested in any of the plot points in depth. (oh my god I just remembered whatshisface's name!). And that way it also feels like you're not watching a cohesive plot but like a sequence of events that are sometimes related. That lack of focus even extends to the characters. Alita spends the first half of the movie really wanting to kill this dude, and then just forgets about it until the end of the movie. Like, what?

And that also brings me to another problem with this plot, *sighs* it suffers from Spiderman 3 disorder – and by that I mean, this movie, has a villain problem. The villains are far too many, and also almost constantly has weird motivations, like there are logical motivations that would make sense for them to become antagonistic, but the movie just opts for the weirdest ones. Like the bounty hunter, wants to kill Hugo (whatshisface), and they spend like 10 minutes on it, and it seems like it is because he wants revenge on Alita from earlier, but then he just does not try to kill her or anything when she shows up! I had to rewatch those scenes, and I still have no god damn clue why he wants to kill Hugo! And that is a problem! AND then, you have Vektor sending all these other bounty hunters to kill, which is, fine. But again, I have no f*cking clue why HE wants to kill her? Why does the evil overlord that controls everyone want to kill her? Like, the fact that there are this many villains is a problem on its own, but then I at least need to know WHY all these villains are there (okay I am gonna do something that is normally illegal on the internet); I mean at least in Spiderman 3 we all knew WHY they wanted to kill Toby Maguire! How, just, how, do you mess up something so fundamental?!

Sadly the next problem is kind of related. Most characters. Look I get that there are some conflicts that are needed. But like, especially Hugo, what?! Like I get his crime thing being wrong and why it would create some conflict, but it seems so forced somehow. And like, when his girlfriend wants to do something really dangerous to make his dream happen, he tells the others he quits. But then why from there not just come clean to Alita, and be like, sorry babe I used to do this because I was in a desperate situation, but now I have learned something. It would have been compelling for his character. Because honestly he has some sweet moments, but otherwise I feel like he is just selfish. And that is fine, but make it compelling selfishness! Also except for the last 10 minutes of the movie, why does the Ido's wife have to be there? It seemed weird. The only antagonist I actually enjoyed was bounty hunter guy because he had just a pinch of a personality sprinkled in there. Alita is fine, maybe a little op, like let her train or something. Ido was good and honestly probably the best character in this movie, but his motivations are so weird sometimes.

So, uhm, what was good? Well, the fight sequences weren't bad, I liked them. The special effects were pretty cool. I loved what they did with those extreme zoom ins on her eyes. The acting was good. Cinematography was pretty good, not noticeable, but also weren't any scenes where I didn't know what was going on. The soundtrack has a very James Cameron vibe to it, which was okay.

Overall, did this movie suck? Yes. For multiple reasons, the story is weirdly paced and put together in a way where it feels like they wanted to cram like three books into one movie (or as I like to call the "opposite Hobbit effect", I'm sorry, I dont know why I have started making weird names for things to amuse myself during this review but here we are I guess.). And a lot of the plot points seemed forced, there are too many villains and all characters need to be tweaked so we actually understand their motivations for things. But visually it was pretty. But I'll be honest, I dont even recommend watching this as a its so bad its good. It is just weird, confusing and bad.

1 out of 10 stars (and that one star is for the actors and the visual teams only.)

So those were my thoughts, tell me what you thought? If you disagree with me and I completely misunderstood your favourite movie! Or if there is any other movie you wanna talk about or want me to watch and review – send me an ask. :)

- Em

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [05]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 4.7k a/n; can u believe this fic is already over halfway done??? i feel more loved and supported for angel’s trumpet w each chapter! i hope u enjoy a more fluffier chapter and some insight on the separate relationships. thank u for the support!

[04] [05] [06] -> masterpost

Bliss. It’s been so long since you’ve experienced this feeling. 

These past few weeks have been nothing short of wonderful, like the sweetest version of reality. Working as a language teacher at BigHit was wonderful because of the staff and the fact that in the long run, your job would be helping the rookies get to know their fans better all over the world. But your job was also incredibly strenuous, and you felt an immense amount of pressure from the higher ups to teach the rookies as much as you could in between their other lessons and training. You remember the early days you’d be crying in the bathroom, scared of their exam scores because you knew it wasn’t possible to learn a language in less than a year, but the higher ups wanted you to achieve the impossible. 

But now, teaching is like a breath of fresh air. You found it appropriate to reabsorb your classes, and you’re still getting used to the sudden heavy workload. Namjoon was over the moon when you returned to your regular office in the biology department, treating you to coffee and catching you up on what you missed. Chan almost cried when he saw you Monday morning sitting in your lecture hall, saying his grade will finally be salvaged. 

However, the cherry on top has to be your budding romance with Jungkook. 

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re still swimming in the honeymoon phase, but everything just felt right. Of course, you can only hope your W2 self was already going to interact with Jungkook in one way or another, just like you had in your world. As of late you don’t feel like you're tearing this universe apart, worrying that you’re interfering in an alternate universe. 

A buzzing interrupts your thoughts, and you pat around your mattress for your cellphone. You don’t hesitate to answer. 

“Good morning, baby,” Jungkook’s rumbly morning voice flits through your speakers. 

You swoon, shuffling and kicking under your covers. A little part of you is disgusted how easy it is to turn to butter in Jungkook’s grasp, but it’s unsurprising. “Hey handsome,” you reply, trying to hide your giddiness. 

“How do you know I look handsome? My breath smells like leftover mac n’cheese and there’s dried drool on my chin.” 

“Mm, still handsome.”

“Ugh, you’re so gross,” but you can hear him smiling on the other line. “Do you have any plans for today?” 

“Dunno.” 

“Well there’s this new bubble tea cafe I know you’d like so maybe during my lunch we can--”

The rest of the words fade away as you notice an incessant banging on your front door. Whoever wants to come in is far too eager for this early. 

It’s then your calendar notification pings, and you see the big fat message atop your phone: 

Hobi Date 🍷🍷🍷

“Oh shit—” you smack your forehead, you completely forgot today’s the day you would find Sehlyung’s wine lady. “I’ll call you later Kook, okay?” 

You end your call, throwing your phone on the bed as you dash out to answer. Taehyung is yelling from the kitchenette, “I’m trying to eat some damn salad here!” By the time you slide out in your socks and down the hall, Hoseok is already inside your humble abode, holding coffee and donuts. 

“I brought libations,” Hoseok says with a bit of flair, setting them down next to Taehyung’s breakfast. 

“Thanks man,” and Taehyung makes grabby hands towards Hoseok’s coffee, and Hoseok looks horrified before snatching it away. “C’mon man, no coffee no entry!” 

“Taehyung, this is Hoseok,” you introduce, opening the box of donuts and offering Taehyung one in truce. You look pointedly towards Hoseok, sipping idly on his coffee, “Hobi, why don’t you wait in my room before we go, okay?” 

Hoseok tilts his head, eyes darting between Taehyung and you. It’s almost comical, the way Taehyung’s early-morning brain is having a hard time processing what was going on, and you wanting to keep a lid on the situation. “Sure, mom,” he slurps obnoxiously on his americano, waltzing down the hallway and into your room. He slams the door rather sharply, and that’s when Taehyung pounces. 

“Who’s the hippie?” 

“Hippie?” you balk, “Hoseok’s not a hippie.”

Taehyung shrugs, shoving a powdered donut in his mouth and completely forgetting about the limp lettuce on his plate. So much for a balanced breakfast. “I know all your friends, but I’ve never met this one.” 

“He’s new,” you take your pick of donuts as well, picking up a vanilla glazed one with rainbow sprinkles, “we’re gonna go shopping.” 

“Oo, can I come?” 

“No,” you say a little too quickly, causing Taehyung’s eyes to widen in confusion. You quickly backtrack, even going as far as to grab a napkin and dab the powdered sugar from Taehyung’s cheeks, “it’s old people shopping. We’re sending ginseng wine to our families. No brand names there.” 

Taehyung immediately buys it, scrunching his nose. “Not my favorite,” he says to himself. “Well, have fun doing old people things. Maybe Jimin will be willing to do something cool with me.” 

And with that, he abandons the limp lettuce with a flick of his wrist, letting them out your windowsill and into your little garden for compost. You two make your separate ways, you into your room and Taehyung into the bathroom.

When you open your door, you already see Hoseok making himself comfortable on your bed, flipping through your notebook. 

“You really shouldn’t be leaving this out on your desk,” Hoseok waves the yellow pages around, trying to look serious, “Taehyung could read this and you might end up in the cuckoo house.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you search for a sweater, “As if he wouldn’t join me.” 

You pull out a large black hoodie, courtesy of Jungkook. Trying not to look like a smitten high schooler, you subtly smell the collar before slipping it over your body. You melt in the fabric, and you almost hug yourself. Since your time at BigHit, you’ve missed wearing Jungkook’s things, and that’s a constant you can’t ignore. 

“If you end up in the cuckoo house, I’ll end up there too by affiliation,” he flops on your bed, waiting for you to get ready, “so, we gonna nab an old lady today for some wine?” 

“Ohmygod. What is wrong with you? You can’t say it like that, someone could report you!” you laugh, slapping him with a long sleeve. 

“So it’s more appropriate to say, ‘let’s go find the lady’s coked up wine that could’ve potentially sent you to an alternate universe’ right?” 

“Exactly,” you grin, pulling him up with an outstretched hand, “now let’s get going before we both end up in the cuckoo house.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Jungkook thought bliss ended once he got a good filming gig and a stable job, but no, it just had to get better. 

He doesn’t want to say he’s all consumed by your presence, but he can’t get enough of you. Sometimes he has to reel it in when you go out on dates, but he feels so lucky to call you his and hold you in his arms whenever he wants. 

You dropped into his life, quite literally. One day you just showed up and barged into his life. At first it scared him, immensely. But as he got to know you, wear you down and realize that the strong, blunt woman he met on the street is just as kind and sweet and soft–

The bottom line is, Jungkook wears his heart on his sleeve and loves loudly. He feels so much for you he can’t contain it. 

Except when Jimin wants to embarrass the hell out of you when they’re going over old pictures during work. 

“Can I tell you a story about how y/n almost peed in that fountain?” Jimin points to the small thumbnail Jungkook took earlier last week. You’re perched on a large limestone fountain, smiling at the little fish tickling the sides of the bowl. 

Taehyung gwaffs, choking on his sandwich. “God, that night was incredible! I got the Snapchat receipts too, Kook. If you want to second guess your standards.” 

A loud laugh bubbles from his throat, and Jungkook eagerly leans over Taehyung’s shoulder to get a better look at the screen. 

He likes your friends, too. To the point that he can safely consider them his friends. Of course he was intimidated the first time, especially when you were so pretty in your red skirt and surrounded by your equally attractive friends, but turns out Taehyung and Jimin are equally dopey and cringey as he. 

As silly as you look crouched over the water and pulling up your skirt, he melts at how carefree you look enjoying yourself on a free night. Jimin is hauling you off the ledge, grabbing you by the waist as you fruitlessly try to kick him away. 

“Careful,” Jimin tuts, sipping at his latte. “She’s gonna kill you if she finds out you showed it to Kook.” 

Taehyung scoffs, stuffing his phone away. “She looked like she was gonna kill me today when she brought that friend over. They were acting really weird,” Taehyung points his kimchi in Jungkook’s nose, “do you know Hoseok?” 

Jungkook blinks, opting to take a bite off Taehyung’s fork, “Kinda,” he shrugs, letting the tang of the kimchi spread across his tongue, “she has office hours when he’s working at the library daycare. They have lunch together.” 

Jimin leans in, hands fold over the white cafeteria table like he’s in the mafia, “What do you mean by weird, Tae?” 

“Like, she wanted him to wait in his room and they kinda just snuck out, y’know?” Taehyung divulges, “Like I love y/n, she the home girl, but who’s secretive about buying ginseng?” 

Jungkook’s chewing slows. He trusts you, however, he doesn’t know what to make of that little tidbit. But instead he swallows his kimchi, not caring that he didn’t chew enough or that it went down uncomfortably, and steels himself. “Probably just stressed about her thesis or something, I’m sure everything’s fine.” he says smoothly, trying to convince himself that he’s right, and he’s pretty sure he is. 

“Awh, Jungkookie’s so mature since he’s started dating!” Jimin paws all over the younger one like they’re long lost siblings. His hands travel to pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair simultaneously, cooing like Jungkook’s a little bunny who’s merely existing. 

There’s a blush staining Jungkook’s cheeks, but he doesn’t mind Jimin’s bouts of attention. A small smile blooms to Jungkook’s face, and confirms to himself that he’s in a good spot in his life. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“So, what are you and Jungkook like?” 

You shrug, “We’re good. It’s only been a few weeks though.” 

“No, I meant your Jungkook.” 

By definition, your Jungkook isn’t necessarily yours. However, the term is the byproduct of your current setting, and an unfortunate reminder that the Jungkook you’re dating now can never be definitively yours. 

(Or…? Can it?) 

“We were,” since when did you refer to you in and him in a past tense, “kind of a slow-burn, actually. We’d pass each other in the hall and exchange conversation during lunch in groups but, he kind of just crept up on me.” 

The train is going at a break-neck speed, the fancy rail floating across the track as it beams you closer and closer to your destination. Gone are the concrete jungles and carefully architected trees. You’re finally starting to see some natural foliage and blue seas. Today’s journey is a bit of a shot in the dark, you don’t even know what the person you’re searching for looks like, but it’s the only clear lead you have. 

“So you didn’t always know you loved him?” Hoseok asks, fiddling with the wire of his buds. 

You shrug, “I had a feeling. He’s an easy guy to fall in love with,” you don’t want to mention that nearly half the world is smitten by the Golden Boy, but from the bittersweet expression on your face Hoseok has an inkling. “There’s just a lot of factors that come with relationships. Factors that aren’t worth it. It’s easy here.” 

“It would be easy,” Hoseok replies to the air, closing his eyes. 

And he’s right. It would be easy to continue on with life, forgetting about the possibility that one day you could wake up in W1. It would be easy to forget about your other life, Beomgyu’s forgotten quiz that’s still probably lit up in your MacBook back home, Sehlyung’s wish for you to approve Jin’s new outfit. 

You wonder how your life back home is going, whether they’re moving on just like you seem to be. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You really have no idea what Sehlyung’s wine dealer looks like. Work friends are work friends, where you’re close enough to share sexy secrets to each other but not as close as to divulge family life. 

You know that Sehlyung lives in a small town closer to the shore, as she’s mentioned one too many times that her feet are baby smooth from the constant sand exfoliation. You’re vaguely aware that this is the right area, at least you hope because W2 Sehlyung could be living in Guam for all you know.

Passing by the village square, you search idly for an old lady selling ginseng wine. You didn’t realize how much a shot in the dark this could possibly be. 

“Hey,” Hoseok whisper-hisses, and you try not to ignore the spit that brushes your ear, “you said to look for an old lady, right? All these ladies. They’re old.” 

He’s right.  

The village may be small, but there were over fifty booths with plenty of old ladies selling something. It would take hours, you didn’t even know if this lady would still be selling ginseng in this life. 

Your hands fall limp at your thighs, and you point to a small house at the end of the square. It’s cute, almost cottage-like, looking more high-end than the other shops on the street. “Maybe we should eat something before we do some searching. Otherwise someone’s gonna have to scrape us off the street.” 

“Good idea.” 

Surprisingly, the interior of the establishment is nothing like the front. There’s a very authentic quirkiness to it, down to the colorful blown glass vases and the eclectic amount of alcohol lining the bar. 

Not feeling like waiting for a table, the two of you wait by the bar, hopping on the two available stools in the corner. 

The two of you don’t waste any time, telling the waiter passing by that both of you would like a heaping bowl of glass noodles. 

“Care for a glass of something sweet?” 

Looking up from their dessert menu, you see an older lady leaning over you to pour you and Hoseok a cup of tea. She’s the definition of a chill grandma, from the easy way she smiles to the colorful hoop earrings she wears. You watch as she carefully pours you a cup for you, and you get a glimpse of the beautifully painted ceramic teapot, adorned with watercolor flowers. 

“If you have some angel wine,” you lick your lips, looking straight at her, “that would be lovely.”

There’s no hesitation in her work, and the lady continues to pour Hoseok’s cup with impeccable grace. She doesn’t bat a lash at your slight jab, even goes so far as to send you a crinkly smile. 

“Fresh out, m’fraid,” she replies easily, “sold my last batch to a lovely blonde over a month ago.” 

You swallow your surprise, the bile coming up your throat returning slow and achingly hard. Hoseok’s eyes dart between you and the old lady, and you clench your hands under the table. “Thought so,” you smile tersely, “then, do you have any recommendations?” 

Hoseok noisily slurps tea, as if he’s watching a melodrama. The old lady nods eagerly, placing her ceramic mug on a nearby potholder. “I’ll whip up something extra special.” 

It isn’t until the old lady whisks away from the bar and into the bathroom does Hoseok blurt, “Is the special thing drugs? Is she giving us drugs?” 

“Who knows,” you thank the waiter who sets down two metal bowls of glass noodles in front of you, “maybe the next drink will send us to the moon.” 

“Don’t even joke about that,” Hoseok grimaces, “my fuckin’ dream is to visit the moon.” 

As you two eat in silence, the restaurant slowly dwindles down as the lunch rush leaves and the start of dinner commences. Being a weekday, there aren't many coming down to eat out. You let yourself be immersed in the hubbub of the cottage, the clinking of clean tea cups and the laughter of staff sitting in the corner table. 

The lady finally returns when you’re nearly done with your meal. There’s a tall frozen glass in her hand, ice particles clinging to the barrier. There’s an umbrella and a pineapple adorning the rim, looking uncharacteristically bright and tropical. She places it next to Hoseok’s tea.

He narrows his eyes, “This doesn’t have LSD or anything, right?” 

She laughs, the hearty sound enveloping the restaurant. “Nope. Just passionfruit and mango.” 

Hoseok easily takes her word for it, sipping happily as it washes down his dinner. 

“For me?” you pop in. 

“Ah, some advice.” 

You shrink in your seat, “I want a fruit smoothie too.” 

But you relent when she opens her palms to you, gesturing for you to give her yours. They feel calloused and worn, as if she’s spent lifetimes dedicating her life to her craft. She rubs her thumbs against your palm, sending soothing circles to your skin.

“Enjoy your time as it lasts,” she says, quiet enough for only you two to hear, “things will fall into place very soon.” 

She senses you tense, and continues to hold you. You can’t tell whether this advice is foreboding or comforting.  

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“I know what you're thinking,” Hoseok says when you return to Seoul, walking in the direction of your apartment. 

“And what exactly am I thinking, o’ wise one?” you kick a stray pepple your way, getting in a groove as you walk lazily down the sidewalk. 

“Her words,” he mumbles, “I don’t think it’s an invitation for you to get too comfortable here. Eventually… you’re gonna have to go back.” 

“I know, Hoseok.” You don’t mean to sound so agitated. After all, the mission was mostly successful. You got your answers, albeit vague ones. The old lady in the cottage simultaneously sparked and eased your soul, unfortunately it didn’t give you any definitive direction as to go on with this life, other than to simply “enjoy it.” 

“I know we’ve been debating whether you’re hallucinating or whether you’re in a coma and you’re having a really long dream or some weird mix of the two—” Hoseok jogs up to stop in-front of you, stuffing his hands in his orange cargos. He’s standing directly behind a 7-Eleven, the gaudy green and red lights lighting behind him like a halo.“And trust me, I’ve spent hours in bed thinking whether I’m real or not and potentially reaching an existential midlife crisis,” he grabs your hand and presses it to your chest, his other hand flailing wildly to the sky, “but this is real. All of it, I’m convinced it’s real. I’ve lived a long, slow, twenty-something life so far.” 

He pulls you into his arms, and you suppress a shudder as his warm embrace envelopes you. Is this some sort of punishment? For the first time in a long time, you’ve felt content. Not to say that your life in your world wasn’t normal but you could honestly admit that the time you’ve spent here is nothing short of amazing. There’s an ease to this life, something so simple and easy to love that you want to keep it in your heart and cherish it forever. 

“But ‘m gonna miss you,” you sigh into his chest, “we aren’t very close back in my world, y’know. So I’m glad I got to spend the time that I could with you.” 

“S’okay,” he mumbles into your hair, and you can feel the smile in your skin, “if we’re really meant to be friends, it’ll happen again.” 

Hoseok leaves you with these words, allowing you to breathe easy as you make the steps back to your apartment. Your feet are heavy from the day’s trek, but your mind feels lighter as you near your floor. 

You spot a young man in a long jacket hanging a bag on your doorknob, taking great care that the contents inside wouldn’t spill. 

“Jungkook?” you ask, smile widening when his gaze perks up to meet yours. It’s almost comical how he reacts to your voice, perking up like a little rabbit at the sound. 

His smile grows the closer you get to him, “Hey, pretty girl,” he murmurs, closing the space between you to press a chaste kiss on your cheek, “great timing. I got you something.”

Your eyes dart to the cup of bubble tea hanging on your doorknob. The cup is adorable, pink-tinted and rounded at the bottom with little cat ears for the lid. 

“Oh, you went! How was it?” 

“It was great! We should go once you’re free. Taehyung ordered three cups! Nearly puked all over Jimin’s couch.” 

“So,” your fingers trail up the buttons of his shirt, and you look up through your lashes, “you’re implying that my roommate isn’t inside our apartment right now.” 

He leans in, nose nudging your neck as his voice rumbles against your sensitive skin, “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

You’ve never punched in your key faster, clutching the bubble tea bag to place it along the counter as the two of you clamber in. Instead of making it to your bedroom or living room, Jungkook traps your body between the doorway, cradling your face in both his hands to press a sweet kiss on your lips. 

There’s nowhere to put your hands because both of Jungkook’s are up, so you close your eyes and let yourself savor the slow taste of his lips moving against yours. Finally you decide to settle your hands on his belt buckle, absentmindedly thumbing the loops as you get lost in the feeling. 

“Mm, Kook? Koo—” he presses quick pecks to your lips, barely giving you a chance to forge complete sentences, “can we move this somewhere more comfortable? ‘M legs are turning to jelly.” 

“Glad to have that effect on you,” he replies airily, thumbs pressing into your soft skin, “but I actually have to go, so no time to get comfy.” You whine against his lips, and he chuckles. “I have a cohort meeting at 8AM. We’re gonna organize our portfolios together.”

“Nerd,” you pout, pressing a kiss to his chin.

“And me and Mingyu are meeting online for some Overwatch in like, two hours.” 

“Gamer nerd,”

“Your nerd,” he beams, his thumb reaching out to swipe the sheen from your swollen lips, “lemme plan date night to make it up to you. Minghao will be out of town for the weekend so it’ll just be me at the apartment.” 

Date night. It all sounds so domestic to you, planning out designated days to spend time together. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the fact that Jungkook sounds so settled with you is nothing short of heartening. 

“I’ll make dinner,” his fingers twine between yours, “and we’re keeping the dress code super casual. I want to see you in nothing but sweatpants and oversized t-shirts.”

“But sweatpants aren’t sexy!” 

“They are on you,” he retorts with a wiggle of his brows, “and sweatpants are easy access.” 

“Alright, as long as you don’t upstage me.”

“Never,” he grins, pearly whites on display, “now, I really gotta go.” 

He unlatches your body from his, only to have you immediately jump on him like a koala. You feel his large hands caressing your hair, taking the time to run his fingers through the tangles. You could fall asleep standing in the middle of your doorway, melting under his touch. 

“Good night, baby.” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. 

“Sweet dreams, nerd.” you reply reluctantly, letting him open the door so he can go. 

“Dream of me!” is the last thing he says before he forces you to shut the door, leaving you thoroughly needy and wanting for him. 

Tonight, you dream long. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Seven months ago, W1

You’re crying. There’s big, fat, ugly tears falling in rivulets along your face. You don’t even bother to wipe away the tears, just let them flow freely and dampen your pants as you watch the group take their final bow. 

From your seat, you take in the energy of the concert like it’s your last breath. The purple confetti dusting your hair, the slow remix blasting through the speakers. The sea of stars swimming across the stadium, all for them. 

You wait until everybody’s long gone before you get up from your seat. Until the only people that surround you are staff and clean-up crew, forcing you to leave. Your face still feels achy and your cheeks puffy. Sehlyung is urgently texting you (quadruple texting!) to hurry your ass up and get to the green room so you can all leave together. 

A hand on your shoulder stops you from replying, and you wave them off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving already, sorry.” 

“Rude, I just got here.” 

Jungkook is glowing. He hoists his whole body to plop himself in the seat next to you, so heavy you fear he may break the plastic in two. His arms splay across the other seats, urging you to lean in closer. 

“Jungkook,” you smile, resting your hand on his thigh. “The show was great, I really felt the energy from all the way back here.” 

“I can see that,” he tugs at his long sleeves, reaching to brush a stray tear, “you okay?” 

“What, yeah.” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

“So you weren’t moved by my impeccable talent?” 

“Obviously,”

“Because, there’s nothing to be ashamed of if you were crying,” he goes on playfully, using his hands to narrate his spiel as he talks out to the stage, “I mean I get it, knowing how much I slaved over that solo and finally getting to perform it, and how I got sick the night before is a pretty–oh shit.” 

You’re blubbering again, feverish now that everyone’s gone and it’s only you two in the stadium. The lights have already started to go out, the only light illuminating are the red exit signs and the last pair of doors leading to the main lobby. Your cries are echoing across the large room, and you feel nothing short of embarrassed but you can’t stop crying.

“Awh, my little crybaby,” he cooes, dripping with affection as he moves the armrest to pull you onto his lap. You dive your face in his neck, wracking with sobs. 

“I’m, I’m just so proud of you,” you seep out, nuzzling your nose between his freshly cleaned face, “and you—you make it so damn hard for me to not love you it’s just, it’s not fair!” 

“You don’t make it any easier on me either,” he whispers, soft enough to crumble under his grasp and melt under his skin. 

The confessions are so soft, so easy to say. Little did the both of you know how much it would strain for you to place this love on the backburner. 

[ilovebeingcalledawhore]

GAUCHE | RENJUN

Content: Fluff, School au

Summary: Getting a job at Seoul Metropolitan Library was a way for you to break out of your routines, you didn’t know that humming just a little too loudly in a three floored library could get you to meet your next boyfriend.

Note: Tell me if you want another part + the places written in this one shot were searched up and are real, the exact location is inaccurate.

Warning: I use British spelling.

ONE-SHOT

[3:59 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 20 2020

I hummed excitedly as I glided into the three-floored library beside our university. Guess who got a part time job? Yes, me! I greeted the woman up front who gave me a little grin back, it was halfhearted but that didn’t matter much, I was finally going to get to do something apart from sitting in my room and shoving my nose into my laptop.

“You’ll end in two hours, your first job is to dust off the shelves on the second floor” the woman said whilst handing me a full black duster. Pretty fancy not gonna lie. “Got you” I pulled it off her grip as we exited the locker room, where I placed my bag.

As I walked up the stairs, I realised that maybe saying “Got you” was a little unprofessional. Making mistakes on your first day will always be a time to remember, I shrugged it off then approaching the first shelf in sight. The shelves were wooden but it was the fancy type of wood, this one shined.

There were also different coloured sofas and bean bags all around the place. That’s when I realised that the woman didn’t even give me a tour! Rude! I scowled but continued to wipe the dust off. It was a calm time for me, casually humming, performing little sways here and there, besides there wasn’t anyone on the second floor...I thought.

“You should hum quieter” The voice was calm and monotone but there was a hint of annoyance in it. I halted and turned my head, feeling the presence behind me. It was a guy around my age, I think I’ve seen him exiting the art block before. He wore a white hoodie and washed denim pants.

He carried a sketchbook in his arm and held the strap of his gray bag in the other. “I’m sorry” I gave him a little grin as an extra sprinkle of sincerity to my apology but he ignored it and walked away. “Jerk” I whispered under my breath, not enough for him to hear.

____

[4:30 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 21 2020

Today’s my second day of work and my new job is to scan books that are being borrowed. Apparently, around 30 books are borrowed and brought back everyday. On exam, project and holiday seasons, it goes up to 80. Well, this was beside a university anyway.

I sat there excitedly, the scanner just a perfect centimetre away from me. I might have a really cute guy come up and borrow a book and maybe ask for my number! The thought made me excited and I couldn’t help but fantasise about it even more. “Excuse me, stop daydreaming” my thoughts were cut off and a brief second of worry filled my mind.

In front of me was the same guy from yesterday, this time in a plain black shirt and gray sweatpants. Did he look good? Yes, Was he here to borrow a book? Yes, Would I have a crush on him if he wasn’t a jerk? Yes, but was he a jerk? Totally.

I pulled the book off his grip and placed it’s bar code in front of the scanner, after the little beep, I gave it back. “Write your name here” I nudged the white piece of paper to him and I watched as he calmly filled in the blanks.

——

[8:05 am] Yonsei University, July 22 2020

Surprise! No work for today but as usual, there’s school. I pouted tiredly as I dropped my science book down the gray table. Today’s lecture is for applied science. The reason why I’ve always had my nose stuck in my books and laptop was because I was studying.

I honestly enjoyed it, the tiring nights and the good grades you get back right after. It gives me a sense of achievement, like my purpose for the day has been fulfilled. I was already five minutes late but as usual, my teacher is completely non-existent; or would walk in with a cup of coffee in, three, two, one.

“Good morning class” the sound of her heels hitting the hard floor made me sit up, getting ready for whatever topic she’s going to talk about. “As you all may know, today the term gets cut so some students change subjects and I highly advise you not to do the same. Let’s welcome our new students!”

She signalled them to come in and I honestly expected dozens because applied science was pretty popular here but instead, only two entered.

A pretty girl with a classic dress, looking like she was going to ace every single test given and a guy, wearing a half-way buttoned up white shirt and black pants. His figure was way too familiar and I figured that I may know him, so I squinted my eyes a little tighter ‘cause I have shit eyesight and there he was. The same guy from the library.

_____

[4:00 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 23 2020

“You’ll be working with someone new today and since you’ve done well adjusting to this new environment, you can give HIM a tour”

Him? It’s a guy? My eyes followed the senior librarian’s pointed finger and there he stood before me.

“I’m not saying it’s kinda creepy that you’re everywhere but it’s fucking creepy that you’re everywhere” I said to him, placing my hands on my hips with furrowed brows, shamelessly showing suspicion to his actions. “Oh please, it’s not like you’re attractive enough for me to stalk” he scowled at me.

“Well first of all, I’m one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever met and boy, you can’t deny it” I did an invisible hair flick because my hair was in a bun. “You wish” he uttered and the librarian shook her head at us. “It’s his first day stop bickering” those were the last word’s she said before walking away.

_______

[4:29 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 30 2020

It’s been a week since I’ve been working with him, we’ve not made much interaction considering the fact that ever since his first day he’s been labelled as my enemy. I continued dusting off the shelves while he dusted the ones beside mine (with our fancy black dusters) but that’s not the point.

“Excuse me?” A soft, small and high voice alerted me. I turned my head to the side and saw this pretty girl holding a book and pointing towards it, she was asking Renjun a question, yes now I know his name. “Where can I find the second book to this?” She asked and I briefly saw Renjun point somewhere before I looked away and continued dusting the shelf.

At least she could get a nice Renjun, all I get is a glaring bitch and I’d have to deal with it for the next ten weeks. The girl walked away and I felt his gaze on me.

“Are you jealous?”

“What?” I halted and gave him the biggest offended face ever. “Why would I be jealous?” I asked and he smirked. “You looked...annoyed” he replied slowly, in a teasing manner and I rolled my eyes.

“How’d you see? Were you watching me?”

I said in a-matter-of-fact tone and he snorted. Let me give this bitch a lesson, I thought to myself, placing my hands on my hips and getting ready to give him the hottest bars.

“I know I’m cute—“ I started and he cut me off.

“Yeah, I know you look cute”

Did he just—? My brows furrowed and a mischievous thought entered my mind. I’m totally teasing him for this.

“...So you agree?” I asked, a smirk crawling up my lips.

“Yeah—” he started “—maybe I do”