#and at this point i'm just not even going to entertain the idea of that ship because of how mean some people have been about it

[niningtori]

this made me want to cry so bad... your angst was so delicious i ate it up like maybe i'm sadistic but seeing gyu suffering after unintentionally making reader suffer was so satisfying :,) and the ending was so sweet i was tearing up like actually... my favorite lines were:

"Such an intense change in your dynamic with him became a hot knife in your stomach, carving out your worst emotions and putting them on full display."

"'Besides, you'll probably be too busy with your partner to have time fussing over me.'

You knew your words were a low blow, but watching his eyes water and bottom lip quiver stroked your ego just slightly. He frantically shook his head side to side with such a fervour you were sure he would break his neck if he kept going." like omg yes GET HIS ASS!

"Beomgyu's heart was in his throat. Crashing..? He hated the idea. You were going to be safe. He didn't even want to entertain the idea of you never coming home to him. You were a fact in his universe. A fixed point. Unchangeable. And here you were, writing about dying? About never coming back to him? He felt sick."

"She was just a distraction, really. You were his focus. You were always his focus. How stupid was he that he had lost sight of that?"

"If leaving Beomgyu meant your doom, you would accept your fate with open arms." well, yes!

me putting half of the fanfiction in my fave lines BWBWJWJWJSIE but i'm serious this was so good you did an excellent job

Pancakes for Dinner.

pairing; beomgyu/reader.

genre; angst, smut, fluff. (so much fluff, im so sorry.)

warnings; childhood friend!gyu, roommate!gyu, hate sex (kinda, not between gyu and reader), yearning...so much yearning..., one-sided affection (or is it?), toxic!gyu, aggressive!gyu, choking used as an intimidation tactic

jjaes comments; this one is.. kinda wild. its taken me weeks to write this. it rlly kicked my ass. this is a little over 5.5k words of pure angst, yearning and fluff. pls dont let this flop. thanks to my beta readers (wives) @liverspaghett and @hyukascampfire, i wouldnt have finished this without you guys.<3

Living with Beomgyu was a horrible idea. One of your worst, by far.

At first, it seemed like the most logical thing to do. You had been nearly inseparable as children, having spent your whole lives attached at the hip. When the looming task of moving out for college came up, of course, staying with your one and only best friend was the best idea you could come up with. And, of course, he jumped at the chance to have some form of familiarity in such a foreign space.

That was two years ago. Things were simpler, back then.

You huffed out a heavy sigh, forehead pressed against the cool glass of the plane. You were headed back home after a much needed trip away. You went alone, of course, much to Beomgyu’s irritation. You always did everything together, why not this, too? You didn’t have the heart to tell him. You simply couldn’t bring yourself to.

How would you even begin to tell him that you loved him, anyway?

–

It started shortly after you two had moved in together. You found yourself drowning in a pile of schoolwork. Essay after essay, quiz after quiz. One particular assignment had you at your wits end, eyes scanning over the same line of text over and over as if rereading it would help it sink in better than the first 7 times you did so. Your head fell against your desk with a loud thunk, the dull pain behind your eyes mixing with the new pain blooming on your forehead. Before you could lift your head to drop it on your desk again, your door opened with the faintest of knocks and a call of your name.

“Hey… you alright? You're gonna knock any sense you have left right out of your head if you keep doing that,” he snarked. Typical Beomgyu, trying to lift your spirits with jokes and half-hearted insults. You snorted out a humourless laugh.

“This homework is leading me to believe I never had any to begin with,” you replied, voice hollow and irritated. Beomgyu’s smirk fell right off his face. He moved closer to you, brows furrowing in concern.

“Hey, wait– Don’t talk about my best friend like that,” he rushed to soothe you, frowning as pulling you out of your uncomfortable desk chair and into his arms. Even as adults, you two were always a bit too touchy. You couldn’t bring yourself to care as you melted into his hold with ease. Usually, you were a bit iffy about physical affection. As kids, Beomgyu made it a point to make you accept him and his love. It was his life’s goal, apparently. One he had achieved after 6 years of hard work. Now, you were putty in his careful hands. you let your frustrations melt from your body until only comfort remained, comfort only Beomgyu could give you. He always had a way of making you feel better.

He rested his chin atop the crown of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your back, right where he knew all your tension would be held. “You're one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. You’re not only incredibly smart, but incredibly talented. I will not abide by this slander,” he half-joked at the end, trying to ease you into the way he saw you. You just huffed in reply, burying your face in his chest. He pulled back just enough so he could fix your skewed glasses on your face, smiling at you with that same lopsided grin he had when you first met as children.

“Let's take a break, yeah? I think I heard some ice cream and a movie calling our names.”

–

You always knew he was attentive, that he would make his future partner feel like the most cherished thing on the planet. But after about a year of him being attentive with you, you had a horrifying realisation.

Your heart swooping in your chest when he brought you your favourite snacks randomly, surprising you with your favourite coffee before classes, when he would make you pancakes for dinner as a surprise– it was slowly making one thing terrifyingly clear in your head. You didn’t want his attention to be anywhere else. Those thoughts that you had before about him making a future partner happy no longer felt like a pleasant thought, but it had jealousy rolling white-hot in your stomach. You weren't ready for him to dote on someone else the way he doted on you.

Still, you revelled in the feeling for now. Was it selfish to want to keep this, even if it was temporary? Perhaps, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. Especially when he sat on your bedroom floor, back pressed to the side of your bed as you wrote your latest essay, strumming his guitar to fill the air. He was working on a new song, he had said. There were no lyrics quite yet, but the melody he was creating was so.. soothing. It made your head spin with warmth and comfort, but there was a yearning there that you couldn’t help but pick up on. You turned in your desk chair, facing him with your lips pulled into a curious pout.

“What’s it about?” you had asked him, voice gentle and soft as if you were afraid that speaking any louder would disturb the comfortable vibes that had settled over your room. He glanced up from his guitar, head tilted at you like a puppy. Your heart stuttered in your chest, making you glance away. You couldn't maintain eye contact when he looked at you like this, as if you hung the moon and stars for him.

“I’m… honestly not sure. But it seems like it wants to be a love song of some sort,” he replied, looking equally as perplexed. You sat up a bit straighter in your seat.

“Wants to be? Does a song know what it wants to become?” You frowned, confused. Beomgyu was always hard to figure out, even moreso when he became so beautifully poetic like this out of seemingly nowhere. He nodded quickly, soft blond curls bouncing at the movement.

“Every piece of art knows what it wants to become. You just have to let it decide.”

You sat there, stunned into silence. His words hit you in a way you never expected. You thought back to all of your unfinished stories, fictions you had written over the years that never saw the light of day. Only Beomgyu knew about a few of them, not all. After all, how could you tell him that a lot of the stories you wrote were about him? You realised he was right. Whenever you wrote, especially lately, your stories tended to go wherever they wanted. No matter how hard you tried writing various genres, various storylines, various characters.. It always came back to him. It was always him, in the end. You smiled at him, leaning back in your chair as you turned around to complete your essay.

“I think I get it.”

But you didn’t get the chance to tell him. You weren’t brave enough by then.

–

It was 6 months ago when he shattered your internal fantasies. He walked through the front door as normal, tossing his keys in the dish and taking his shoes off. Everything seemed normal, but you instantly knew something was off. Maybe it was the way he seemed a little too giddy today, maybe it was the way his cheeks were tinged red despite the temperate weather outside, but you had a looming feeling that something was about to destroy you today.

You should have trusted your gut.

The news was not surprising, really. That he had a crush on someone and it was going well. No, what gutted you was that it had apparently been brewing for months now, while you were blissfully unaware. You were too busy falling for Beomgyu that you hadn’t noticed him falling, too. But not with you.

Still, he was your best friend. You had no choice but to find joy in his happiness, even if it wasn't shared with you the way you wanted. So you smiled as wide as you were able, congratulating him with as much true happiness as you could muster. He grinned, the smile bright and blinding as he swept you up in his arms, spinning you around. It sliced through your heart knowing that he did all of this platonically.

“God, I really think they’re the one..” he breathed, sounding dazed. He was entirely unaware of the sound of your heart shattering in your chest, nor of the way your fake smile faltered for just a moment.

–

You decided it was time to go on a trip. You needed to get out. Fast. You needed to be as far from Beomgyu as possible, as fast as possible. Luckily you had plenty of vacation time from work built up, and within a few months, you were packed up and ready at the door of your shared apartment.

“Gyu, cmon.. You’ll live without me, right? It’s only for two weeks, and I’ll be back before you know it,” you rushed to console him, even at your own expense. Truthfully, you didn’t want to come back to him. He was absent from the apartment almost all the time now, spending all his time with his new partner. You no longer knew what he was up to, nor how his classes were going, if he was happy, sad, upset. You were a stranger, now. Such an intense change in your dynamic with him became a hot knife in your stomach, carving out your worst emotions and putting them on full display.

It was a tearful goodbye, but not on your account. Beomgyu was a blubbering mess, clinging to your shirtsleeve as if letting go would mean he would never see you again. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, shrugging him off before ruffling your hand through his fluffy hair as you always did. “Besides, you’ll probably be too busy with your partner to have time fussing over me.”

You knew your words were a low blow, but watching his eyes water and bottom lip quiver stroked your ego just slightly. He frantically shook his head side to side with such a fervour you were sure he would break his neck if he kept going. You placed your hands on either side of his face to still him, his cheeks squishing against your palms. He stared at you with those big puppy eyes you loved, and your heart tugged in your chest. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to hold him. You wanted to just stay here with him instead of running away like the coward you are.

Alas, he wasn’t yours to do so with, so you pulled away.

Gripping your suitcase, you walked toward the taxi waiting for you, but something gave you pause as your hand made contact with the door handle. You looked over your shoulder, giving him your best, watery excuse of a smile you could muster.

“Be good, okay? Be back soon.”

“You’d better.”

–

If you had some foresight, you would have shut down your computer before you left. Although, in your defence, you were too preoccupied with getting the hell out of the house that you did little to prepare your room for your departure. It really shouldn't be surprising that Beomgyu would go snooping in your room when you weren't there. It was perfectly innocent, he swore! He missed you so much. He needed to be in there to feel your presence again.

It had only been a few days since you had left, and the apartment was eerie without you. He realised just how much you lit up the room when you were there, keeping the apartment’s atmosphere warm and fuzzy with just your presence. He was content with just sitting on your bedroom floor as he usually did. He talked out loud about his day, rambling in his usual way and imagining you were watching with rapt attention and nodding along as always. He caught himself, pressing his lips into a thin line when he realised what he was doing. This was pathetic. He could just call you, but your phone seemed to be off. Not being able to contact you at all times settled a pit deep in his stomach that he didn’t like. His connection to you was severed; cut off at the neck, and he was floundering. He didn’t know what to do without you, so he dragged himself off of your bedroom floor and into his own room, flopping himself face-down on his own bed.

A few hours later, when he realised he couldn’t get a wink of sleep without you, he dragged himself out of bed. If he couldn’t sleep, he could at least do something productive, right? He went back to that song he was trying to write, guitar in his lap and pencil tapping against his plush bottom lip as he tried to concentrate. “Cmon.. let the song write itself..” he tried to coach himself through it, to no avail. After an hour of staring at a blank lyric page, he let out a defeated groan. Moments later, he found himself in front of your bedroom door. He couldn't recall how he ended up there, honestly. He swore his feet followed the familiar path to your room of their own volition. He pushed your door open, eyes fluttering just slightly at the way your scent hit him like a wall. He could feel his muscles release the pent-up tension he must've gained during his poor excuse for rest. Beomgyu sighed as he stepped through the threshold of your room. He wanted to settle on the floor with his back against the side of your bed like he always did, but something tugged at him today.

He sat in front of your computer.

You were a writer. He knew that much. He had read a handful of things you deemed good enough for his eyes, and he was positively enraptured with the way you wove words into intricate stories that tugged on his heartstrings. He was hoping, however selfish that hope was, that he could find something to inspire him into writing that damn song. You always inspired him, so surely your writing would do the same.

He swore he wouldn’t snoop for too long, wanting to find something from you, anything from you to aid him in his songwriting woes- and then he found it. Scrolling innocently through your saved documents, something caught his eyes.

“Pancakes for Dinner..” he read off the screen, the combination of words tugging at something familiar deep in his brain. How could he resist? He clicked the document open.

This work was different from your usual writing. It was in a poem format, and the pacing was reminiscent of a song. He wondered, distantly, just when you had the time to write something so interesting- oh.

2 hours ago.

You were writing this on your trip, probably with your laptop or phone. Something about that fact made his heart sink. You obviously had access to the internet, why weren't you talking to him? Were you avoiding him? It seemed unfathomable, you ignoring your best friend, just as he couldn't imagine ignoring you. Frowning, he pushed himself to read.

“Don't want to be forward, don't want to cross a line

But if I were to crash in this plane tonight,

I'd want you to know this.

Don't want to say too much, intrude on your space

But if I were to crash and I didn’t make it home

I’d want you to know this.”

Beomgyu's heart was in his throat. Crashing..? He hated the idea. You were going to be safe. He didn't even want to entertain the idea of you never coming home to him. You were a fact in his universe. A fixed point. Unchangeable. And here you were, writing about dying? About never coming back to him? He felt sick.

“Oh, and to say it is too scary, so I’ll just say something else

And I wish that you could hear me when I talk to myself

But this plane might not land safely

So, what the hell do I have to lose

If I just tell you?

I wanna eat pancakes for dinner

I wanna get stuck in your head

I wanna watch a TV show together

And when we’re under the weather

We can watch it in bed

I wanna go out on the weekends

I wanna dress up just to get undressed

I know that I should probably tell you this

In case there is an accident and I never see you again

So please save all your questions for the end

Maybe I’ll be brave enough by then.”

Beomgyu was floored to say the least. As always, your way with words was so intricate and amazing that he could do little else but read in awe. Something about it irritated him, though. This felt too.. Intimate. Not for his eyes. He knew he was invading your space, yes, but this felt too personal, even for you. You were always so reserved, keeping your emotions hidden and to your chest. Beomgyu prided himself in being able to read you better than anyone else, and yet.. These words. This song you wrote, these lyrics hit too close to home, somehow. He pushed on, but something nagged at the back of his mind that if he continued, things between the two of you would fundamentally change forever. It was a stupid thought, anyway, so he pushed it aside.

“Don't want to say something wrong

Don't want to be weird

But if you're still in love with her

I think that I’ll leave it there

And I won’t ever tell you this.”

The words felt like ice cold water washing over him, stinging and shocking him to his core. You were in love, weren’t you? It was obvious now that he reread the previous lines. You were head over heels. He should be happy for you, he knew that. He should be ecstatic that you could find someone to feel this way about, but that happiness never came. Instead, something raw and ugly clawed its way up his throat, causing him to push away from your desk and slam the door to your room. He didn’t know why he was acting this way. He didn’t care to know. Instead, he threw himself into anything and everything else, trying to rid your heartfelt words from his mind. You were in love, and all it did was piss him off. He completely forgot about his song, and completely forgot to close the tab he was on.

He spent the following few days in a bit of an angry haze. He was meaner. Rougher. you'd be shocked to see what he had become in the wake of his realisation. Part of him wanted to be ashamed of what he was turning into, but he couldn't find it in himself to give a damn. You were in love, he was dating someone, that was the end of it. So he took his anger out in a way he thought would aid him in keeping his priorities straight.

–

“Gyu, wait- slow down-!” his girlfriend cried, but it fell on deaf ears. He simply growled into her ear and gripped her hips in a bruising hold. He was being too mean, he knew that, but he didnt care. Her voice was starting to irritate him. It didn’t sound right. Her moans didn’t sound as pretty as they did before. This knowledge made him hiss and move harder, fuck her faster; Shoving her head into the pillows to muffle the moans that he usually loved to hear.

“Shut the fuck up, whore. You’ll take what I give you,” he spat, fingers tangling in her hair, shoving her face harder into the pillows as he continued to plough into her. She was using your nickname for him. He knew why she was doing it, wanting to exert some sort of power over you in your absence. It made him scowl, but it wasn't enough to make him stop.

It didn’t matter, in the end. It didn’t matter how often he fucked her. It didn’t matter how many surfaces of your shared apartment that he did it on. It didn’t even matter when he did it in your bed. The rage gripped his heart, unrelenting, leaving a foul taste in his mouth. Maybe he was sick in the head for this, for trying to wash you out of his life. He shouldn’t be acting this way. He knew he shouldn't be. But he couldn't help himself. He couldn't stop the anger from pushing him beyond his usual limits, turning him into something unrecognisable.

It was the day before you were supposed to come home, and he was exhausted. He supposed that the rage-induced fuckfest he found himself in was just his way of blowing off steam. It was fucked up, it was childish, and he was finally coming down from it.

Kinda.

He had the sense to break up with his girlfriend by now, thank god. It was a rough affair, full of screaming matches and scathing words. She was furious, of course. Not that Beomgyu cared. She was going off on a tirade about you, but he was only half-listening. Something about how she was better than he deserved, that she would get him back for this, that he was a jerk. He just kept staring somewhere beyond her ear, waiting for her to be done. Then she made a horrible mistake.

“Its them, isnt it?” Her words were enough to finally knock Beomgyu out of his trance. His gaze sharpened, zeroing in directly on her face.

“What?” He questioned, though his words felt too sharp, too dangerous. If she had any sense, he thought, she would recognise his words as the warning it was and leave it alone. Alas, she was just as dumb as he expected.

“Your roommate. They’re doing this. They’re the reason, aren't they? That bitch-” Before she could get any further insults out, Beomgyu had her by the throat.

“Shut the fuck up.” He almost grinned when she finally had the sense to look scared. He was seething. No one insulted his friend. You were more than just his roommate, you were his best friend. You were his one constant companion, his soulmate. Who was she to get in the way of that? Who was she to insult you; in front of Beomgyu, no less? Was she that fucking stupid?

He had backed her up to the front door, all the while she was spewing apologies and blubbering through her tears. He didn’t care. He stopped caring a long time ago. He only cared about you, he knew that now. He didn’t know how he had ever forgotten it. How could he have forgotten how perfect you were? How could he forget that he only had you?

It wasn't until after he had slammed the door behind her that he finally took a deep breath. It was over. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t feel much about it. She was just a distraction, really. You were his focus. You were always his focus. How stupid was he that he had lost sight of that?

The silence of the apartment rang in his ears painfully. It was taunting him, reminding him of the absence of you. He once again found himself entering your room with little memory of having walked to your door. Here, he could find some semblance of peace. Here, he could delude himself into thinking you were still here; that he could still smell you, feel you, hear you. He glanced at your computer, knowing it was still open to that document. His heart ached in his chest, jealousy eating him alive. How could you love someone else? How did you have the time to? He was almost always with you–

Except he hadn't been, had he? No, he had been too busy with his girlfriend– ex-girlfriend. He felt his chest cave in. You did have time to fall in love with someone. He had nearly done the same. He was such a hypocrite. How could he be angry with you for doing the same thing he did?

He frowned, hand shaking as he moved the mouse to wake your computer screen. He knew your password by heart, typing it in with nimble fingers and bated breath.

“Oh, ‘cause to tell you is too scary

So i’ll just say something else

Like how was fall semester?

And what was that song about?

I’ll try to hide the way I feel, But i’ll just want to shout

Oh, what do I have to lose right now?”

As he read the chorus again, something tugged at his brain. Something was so familiar about it. Even the pre-chorus felt.. Off. What was he missing? He read it and reread it, but nothing popped out to him just yet.

Then something on the screen flickered. His heart lept in his chest, eyes bulging as he watched a different coloured cursor begin to type out words. You were writing this right now. You were abroad, in some other country and yet he still shared this with you. It was almost enough to convince him that you hadn’t left at all, that you were still right here with him. If he focused hard enough, he could almost hear you typing, fingers flying over the keyboard in a flurry of movement like always.

“I think that I should probably tell you this

In case there is an accident

And I never see you again

So please save all your questions for the end

And maybe I’ll be brave enough by then.

Well, maybe I won’t ever say whats in my head

No, I won’t have to say anything

You’ll say it instead.”

That last line haunted him. It echoed in his head over and over. “You’ll say it instead”?

At first, the realisation hit him slowly. Pancakes for dinner, wanting to know what his song was about, being in love with his ex.. You were writing this song about him, weren't you? All these things lined up a little too well with the experiences he shared with you. Then it hit him all at once.

The person you were in love with was him, right? You were in love with him. Your best friend, your roommate, your soulmate. If Beomgyu was shaking beforehand, he was trembling like a leaf, now. This whole time, he was acting out and seething, he spent almost the entire time you were gone in a fit of rage, when in reality he was jealous of himself. He felt both giddy and ashamed. If only he had stayed a bit longer last time he was reading your lyrics. If only he had patience, he would have seen. He would have known that he was the object of your desires this whole time. He felt foolish, embarrassed–

But none of that mattered now. No, what mattered was that you were on your way back to him. What mattered is that you were coming back, and he was never letting you go again.

–

The plane ride back did little to calm your nerves. You had a decent time away, you supposed, but it wasnt the relaxing get-away you were hoping for. You spent the whole time fighting the urge to pick up your phone, wanting nothing more than to fall into the familiar comfort of hearing Beomgyu’s voice in your ears, the dulcet tones smoothing over every frazzled nerve you had. But no, you had to steel yourself. Moving on meant limiting contact.

Beomgyu was like a drug. The more you took of him, the more you relied on his presence, his voice, his touch, his smile. Everything about him was addictive, and you needed to quit. You’d never survive if you stayed so pathetically dependent on him. Quitting cold-turkey almost broke you. Scratch that, It did. It ruined you. You spent the first few days away sobbing into the hotel bed’s pillows, phone safety tucked away in your purse. You promised yourself you would try to find closure.

He loved someone else, plain and simple. You had to move on, not just for your sake but for his. How uncomfortable would he be if he found out about your feelings? Would he think you were disgusting for misunderstanding his actions? For creating this scenario in your head about the life you wished to have with him? Oh, god.. What if he found out about your stories? What if he knew what you wrote about? The scenarios you wove with him in mind were not something you ever wanted him to see. He could never know. He will never know.

You closed the document app on your phone, leaning your head against the window of the aeroplane as a sigh tumbled from your lips. They were bitten and gnawed beyond belief, a habit you had recently picked up as you tried to shove Beomgyu from your mind. The song was your last-ditch effort at putting your feelings from your mind. Maybe if you admitted it out loud, you could move on. Acceptance is the first step, or something like that. You closed your eyes, trying to imagine how the reunion was going to go. Should you move out? Maybe it would be best. The idea of being further separated from Beomgyu made your chest clench painfully, making you shake your head. No, you couldn’t do that. You weren’t strong enough to make that large of a step, even if it was what would save you.

If leaving Beomgyu meant your doom, you would accept your fate with open arms.

–

He was exactly where you expected him to be, standing at the terminal and waiting for you. Though, you knew it wouldn’t take any real effort to pick him from a crowd. You only ever saw him, anyways.

Before you could say anything, his eyes met you and you swore time stood still. Neither of you moved for a few long moments, just staring at each other in awe. Seeing him again, seeing the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, made all your self-respect fly out the window. All the work you had put in during your trip had been knocked down in an instant. How could you ever think you’d be anything other than his? It was written in your DNA, you belonged to Beomgyu, whether he knew it or not. That was your fate. He was your fate, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

Then the moment broke, and you were being twirled around in a bone-crushing hug. Beomgyu was nosing eagerly at your neck, taking in your scent first-hand instead of your room. He sighed against your skin.

“You’re home,” he breathed, sounding dazed. You understood the feeling, nodding dumbly as he set you down on the linoleum again.

“I’m home,” you affirmed, looking up at him. His hands never left your waist. Normally, you'd have no problem with it but you knew this feeling of greed was wrong. Your hands pressed gently against his chest in a weak effort to push him away. Your heart wasn’t into it. “You have a girlfriend, Gyu, hands off.” Beomgyu scoffed, face hardening at the mention of her.

“Ex,” he corrected, staring down at you with an intensity that had your stomach tensing. “Ex-girlfriend.” He clarified, hands staying firmly planted on your waist. You swore you could feel his thumb stroking your side gently, but you were sure it was just your imagination.

“Oh..? Are you okay–” You couldn’t get any further words out, not when his lips pressed to yours like that. You froze, muscles stiffening under his hold. He paid it no mind, continuing to kiss you senseless. When you finally began to relax against him, he pulled away. Your eyes were wide as saucers, staring up at him as you fumbled for words. “I– you– what–?”

“I’ll say it instead,” He began, sounding just as breathless as you did. When you looked at him with confusion, he just laughed. “That love song I was writing was for you. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was. It was always going to be for you. I make you pancakes for dinner because I know you don't like candies, but still crave something sweet at night. I bring your favourite coffee to you before your classes because I love the way your eyes light up when you realise I memorised your order. I’ll say it instead, because I want you to know that I love you. I’ve always loved you, I think. I just never knew until I thought I had already lost you.”

Your head was spinning. He wasn’t giving you any room to breathe, instead he pressed his forehead to your own, hands moving up to hold your face in a gentle grip.

“You love me too, right? You wrote that for me, yeah? God, please say yes–” This time you were the one cutting him off with a kiss, pressing so fervently into him that his eyes rolled back into his head. This was everything he ever needed and never knew he wanted. He loved you, he would say it every day, every hour. He would be sure to remind you all the time so you never forgot. He needed you more than anything in his life.

“Yes.” You breathed against his mouth before diving right back in. With a single word he knew; he was yours, now and forever.

taglist; @hwanghyunjinismybae @biteyoubiteme @chyuuiung

[firstkanaphans]

Bet if another company did 17+ BL/GLs they would sing their praises?

but since it is GMMTV thats bad and thats taking advantages of branded pairs and not letting actors improve

meanwhile some of their stagnant pairs got new and interesting plots that will show range from them, and toom them off the uni or let them try characters that are different from who they played before giving new dynamics

but sure the new lineup is bad cuz branded pairs are evil and force actores together and don't let them act

I am all for stirring shit up with the pairs, and maybe let actors try solo roles but they honestly at this point complain just cuz it is GMMTV and they are corporate evil

as if other companies don't do the same side eye

anyway this people are so boring, watch what you want and don't bother us

as we say here non cagarci il cazzo(don't google that)

I think the thing that bothers me most about this whole "The actors are never going to get better if they're only acting with the same people" argument is that this is not a problem specific to GMMTV—or even BLs. This is literally just how the entertainment industry works. How many years did Ellen Pompeo and Patrick Dempsey work together on Grey's Anatomy? What about Emily Deschanel and David Boreanaz on Bones? And yet no one has ever accused them of being bad actors because they were hired to work with the same partner over and over again. And Western actors don't even get a chance to change characters! Sometimes for decades. At least Thai artists are able to branch out and play different characters in different settings with different directors every year.

This idea that the people in charge of Thai media don't actually know what they're doing is incredibly racist. Just because they do things differently than you might be used to, doesn't mean it's wrong. And if you don't like it, you certainly aren't obligated to watch.

Would I like more mixing and matching of pairs? Sure. But that's not going to make GMMTV any money and they know this. The actors also know this, which is why they are fighting to stay together. They make more money and get more sponsorships with their partner. Perth Nakhun just released a whole YouTube video about this. If CPs are a deal breaker, Thai BL is probably not for you. And good riddance, honestly. I'm sick and tired of this argument.

[sparky-is-spiders]

Jonelias Week Day 1 (Which is definitely today I swear), for the prompt "No Powers AU"

This one... maybe got away from me. This is actually only the first half of what I've written so far, and probably the first third overall! I do plan to post this to Ao3 at some point (although I suspect I'll need to do a lengthy round of editing first lmao). It's some very self-indulgent nonsense, which is a lot of what I write, but now it's getting put in the main tags of a ship during said ship's event week. So. It may also be a little bit "aromantic dude tries to figure out what having a crush is supposed to be like." Also a lot of "dude who took Principals of Accounting once pretending it knows what office work is like." Anyway, quick warning before we begin, and the rest will be under the read-more:

Stalking (played for laughs) for most of the fic.

Just. A weird amount of obsession.

Ok that should be it I think. Fic under the cut.

Jon's new boss was, quite possibly, the most boring man in the world. He wore the same outfit every day (pale dress shirt with dark unpatterned tie and gray slacks and matching suit jacket). The only personal effect in his entire office was a potted plant on the windowsill (some sort of succulent, and definitely fake). He always arrived to work exactly half an hour early and left exactly half an hour late. The only hobby he appeared to show any interest in was scheduling, which he seemed to find both deeply engaging and remarkably irritating. In fact, he was apparently so opposed to the idea of mixing his work with his personal life that he might as well not have existed beyond the walls of their office. Jon had never been more fascinated by anyone else in his entire life.

It stared with the transfer to the accounting department. Elias had met with him personally to get him acclimated to his new role. He had been blandly polite, and blandly handsome, and Jon had stopped listening to him about five minutes into their conversation. It was probably bad form, really. The software Elias was droning on and on about sounded like it was about to become a central feature of his days. He really should've been paying attention to it. Instead, he pretended to make eye contact while zeroing in on the top of Bouchard's forehead (a very useful trick, really) and became inordinately focused on the small lock of hair that had fallen across it. It was terribly distracting, and Jon had wondered how he hadn't noticed it. And then he wondered how it had come to be there. And then he had built up an entire story involving a murder, an illicit affair with the assistant director of marketing, and the potted succulent. And then he had noticed Bouchard eying him with what could've been suspicion or amusement or irritation or nothing whatsoever, and had been forced to rapidly pretend to care about their company's bad debt expense policy. Bouchard had indulged him, and had spoken with the calm authority of someone who knew what they were talking about, and had even managed to avoid being overtly condescending (a feat forever out of Jon's reach). At the end he had shaken Jon's hand (with a nice, firm grip), and had told him "I'm looking forward to working with you, I'm sure you'll make a wonderful member of our team." Jon had left that meeting with a mind shrouded in a fog of boredom and a faint sensation of warmth which he decided was best attributed to curiosity and left otherwise unexamined. Over the next few weeks, Jon had tried to subtly inquire into Bouchard's life. At the time, he had been naively under the impression that surely he must have let slip something about his life; some odd quirk or funny story or harmless bit of information which could justify Jon's blooming curiosity. Unfortunately; "He lives in Chelsea, I'm pretty sure?" (Sasha) "He's currently in a meeting. Honestly Jon, you'll be better off just sending an email. Now can I please get back to work?" (Rosie, probably lying about the meeting) "He actually lives here in the office. Set up a cozy little home away from home in one of the storage closets and sneaks out at night to raid the canteen. And he's having an affair with the assistant director of marketing." (Tim, definitely lying (but maybe a mind reader? Also, full of brilliant ideas for places Jon could maybe set up a cot whenever he needs to stay overnight)) Clearly, Jon would have to take matters into his own hands if he wanted answers. That was fine. It could be his own private little research project.

Jon liked to think that the entire thing had actually been quite reasonable, and that he had acted within the bounds of their pre-established relationship as employee and supervisor. Surely any rational person had to realize that nobody could possibly be that uninteresting. Anyone would be curious as to what dark secrets Bouchard his behind his well-tailored suits and polite, professional demeanor. … perhaps most rational persons would not meticulously record the movements, behavior, and daily appearance of their colleague in a discreet notebook (with annotations, color-coding, and graphs where appropriate), but Jon had always prided himself on his dedication to research and understanding. So far Jon had collected frustratingly little data. If Bouchard was hiding anything, it wasn't apparent from his schedule (see pages 8-13, figure 2.b), his eating habits (see page 22), or his lone plant (see page five, figure 1.c). His breaks did seem specially timed to avoid other people (and he appeared not to engage in many social behaviors generally), but he never acted irritated or otherwise unhappy to encounter one of his subordinates, so Jon wasn't entirely sure if it was deliberate avoidance or simple coincidence. Really, the only truly odd thing about him was his inexplicable interest in Jon. That very morning, for example, Bouchard had stopped by his cubicle for a fifteen minute discussion on the upcoming Annual Team Luncheon, an event Jon had never attended before (due to an annual migraine which coincidentally always happened to occur on the exact date of the luncheon), which Jon did not plan to attend, and which honestly sounded like some sort of violation of the Geneva Convention. The topic itself was not especially odd (small talk was an archaic tradition which had stubbornly clung on in every workplace Jon had ever set foot in), but Bouchard's low propensity for inter-office socialization combined with the fact that he had both chosen Jon specifically as his conversational partner was… highly suspicious. Most people who encountered Jon inevitably concluded that he was more effort than he was worth (an attitude Jon mostly appreciated).

And of course, there had also been their interaction two days ago, when Elias had paused briefly to inquire as to whether Jon would be staying late, and what he was working on, and if he might perhaps consider heading home soon because there was only so much overtime they could pay him. Or on Friday, when he had managed to hold two separate conversations with Jon where very little was said. Honestly, Jon somewhat suspected that Elias had spoken to him more in the past few weeks than he had spoken to any of their colleagues for the entire time Jon had been there to observe him. Most of Jon's notes were now dedicated to their interactions. From his cot in the unused storage room (which was indeed a good place to stay overnight, thank you Tim), he could jot down everything he recalled about their interaction; it had begun at 8:32 and had concluded at 8:47; the weather was warm and slightly humid, although the office interior remained at a comfortable 21 °C. Bouchard's shirt had been a nice, cool gray, which complemented the silver of his eyes. Jon (who had been busy digging for his favorite pen (the ink was a lovely deep green color, and it was usually kept on the left side of the top desk drawer, and Jon had no idea where else it could have possibly gone)) had settled on "irritation" as his tone, which Bouchard either had not noticed or had not cared enough to acknowledge. He had easily dominated the conversation, and Jon could admit in the sanctity of his research journal that his voice had been soothing enough to cool away some of Jon's annoyance. He wrote his conclusion: Subject behaved near-identically in tone, posture, body language, and apparent mood as he has in all previous communications. Subject displayed no strong thoughts or opinions on subject of discussion nor conversational partner. Interaction was pleasant but slightly dull, no new information discovered. It was almost exactly the same as every previous conclusion. Jon had to admit, so many months with so little progress was… discouraging. He shifted on the narrow mattress and winced when his movements aggravated his backache (which was surely unrelated to his frequent occupancy of the cot). It was becoming more and more apparent that the only possible solution was to do some actual, direct investigation. His first idea (break into Bouchard's office) seemed a tad far (also, he didn't know how to pick locks). His second idea (follow him home) seemed a stretch further than the previous one, and was perhaps best saved as a last resort. His third idea (something something computers? (perhaps "idea" was a bit generous)) would almost certainly require Sasha, who would have questions Jon couldn't answer. He flipped idly through his notes, half-skimming, half-thinking. It was only when his gaze landed on figure 2.b, Weekly Schedule of E. Bouchard, that he actually came up with something reasonable. Something actionable.

[rewritingtales]

a  genuine  laugh  makes  its  way  out  of  gothel's  body.  he  can't  help  but  seem  to  be  entertained  by  the  wolf's  reaction.  god,  if  he  has  it  his  way  he'd  will  the  witch  carver  to  pass  by  right  in  that  moment  so  ezekiel  can  know  who  they  are.  he  doesn't  mean  to  scare  the  man  with  all  of  the  stores,  but  perhaps  rile  him  up  a  little  bit.  “if  it's  not  broke,  don't  fix  it.  witches  tend  to  stick  to  similar  spells  when  they  find  something  that  works.”  it's  how  he's  stayed  so  young  for  all  of  these  years.  “you  can  try  to  kill  me  if  you'd  like.”  without  someone  to  pass  on  the  mental  of  death  king  to,  can  he  even  die?  gothel's  mother  passed  before  he  could  ever  ask  her  the  important  questions.  his  brothers  are  also  long  gone.  “something  tells  me  most  of  your  ideas  are  good.  they're  just  judged  by  outsiders.”  shame  on  them.  he  loves  being  unexpected.  it's  probably  evident  by  the  way  that  his  mouth  widens  just  far  enough  to  show  teeth  through  his  lips.  it  lasts  longer  than  he'd  have  hope.  is  this  going  to  give  him  smile  lines  now?  my  god.  “i'm  not  like  other  witches.  hence  the  whole  death  domain  thing.”  still,  he  doesn't  mind  being  alone.  hence  the  whole  tower  in  the  middle  of  the  woods  thing.  “careful  now.  i  hear  there's  someone  that's  specializing  in  hunting  were-creatures.  perhaps  because  people  keep  making  them.”  another  small  laugh.  god,  he  needs  to  pay  the  witch  carver  at  this  point.  “how  about  we  agree  to  work  together  if  the  situation  ever  arises.  i'll  stop  the  poachers  from  getting  you.”  what  zeke  can  do  in  return?  well,  gothel  won't  say  that  out  loud.

convinced  zeke  had  nothing  to  worry  about  -  more  beast  than  man  on  a  bad  day  &  even  less  man  on  good  days,  he  didn't  think  even  for  a  minute  the  witch  could  be  a  danger  to  him  or  his  ...  beastliness.  he  didn't  often  mingle  with  witches,  they  had  their  own  little  hobbies  &  they  usually  didn't  affect  him  or  his  home  in  the  slightest,  but  in  this  case....?  it  did.  hm.  wait.  another?  "is  that  the  only  fuckin'  heckin'  spell  people  know?"  making  half-beasts  like  it's  a  damn  sport  &  he  would  be  getting  compared  to  them.  him.  brows  pulled  together,  forehead  in  a  deep  frown  while  his  mind  tried  to  wrap  around  possible  consequences  that  had  for  him  &  his  home.  "we  can  change  that."  if  being  alive  was  a  problem,  that  is.  "'s  fine,  i  guess."  he  said  with  a  little  sigh,  hands  still  lodged  deep  inside  his  pant  pockets.  "wasn't  my  worst  idea  at  least.  or  maybe  it  was.  been  a  long  time."  he'd  come  far  since  then  -  less  fanfare  &  more  slicing.  did  that  make  him  a  formidable  foe?  somehow  he  doubted  it.  but  he  also  didn't  very  much  care  what  the  witch  thought  of  him.  he  really  didn't.  "i  dunno,  guess  i  didn't  expect  someone  like  yourself  to  need  allies."  not  that  he  said  he  needed  one.  sounded  like  it,  though.  "guess  uh,  i'm  used  to  bein'  alone,  rely  on  myself  -  no  others.  when  you're  the  monster  everybody's  afraid  of  or  huntin',  never  know  who  you  can  trust."  he  did  trust  little  red  up  to  some  point,  but  part  of  him  still  wasn't  sure  if  ...he  wouldn't  sell  him  out  if  the  little  one  had  to  choose  between  his  family  &  the  evil  wolf  he  had  a  soft  spot  for.  “what  about  it?  you  wanna  work  together  or  somethin'?” 

[nearestend]

do you guys ever have like. a ship that you didn't necessarily think about much and didn't have any problems with before but then you saw how mean people were being about it so now you're like. that's going to be a no from me

[thesmokinpossum]

yeah yeah, presumption of innocence and all that but the fact that Ne1l Ga1man is currently using the most textbook definition of the most bullshit excuses as to why he didn't actually raped those women doesn't exactly fill me with confidence for his words to be entirely honest with y'all

[lord-squiggletits]

There’s two different types of bad writing, and one of them is the kind that’s actually infuriating.

There’s bad writing that’s just bad 100% of the way through, or it’s otherwise so low quality that there’s nothing of value to be gained from it. When writing is this bad, you can just ignore it and forget about it because it has no skill, no value, no memorability whatsoever. You don’t develop strong feelings about it because the writing is so bad you can’t even hate it because you don’t care about it enough to complain about it.

And then there’s bad writing that actually has gems of quality in it: There were interesting concepts, or character relationships that seemed interesting, or a setting or other plot device that adds depth to the world. Except it’s executed in such a shoddy way that it makes you scream from how much worse the actual writing is compared to what it could have been in theory. Bad writing that’s bad because of wasted potential is 1000% worse than bad writing that’s just bad because it’s just good enough to make you want to enjoy it.

The latter type of bad writing is pretty much how I feel about Barber’s work in phase 2 and it really annoys me lmao. Because Barber got almost every plot point that I was looking forward to reading about (Earth politics, Pyra Magna, colonies, Optimus fucking Prime being my favorite character of the whole continuity) and managed to turn it into a snail-paced boring slog full of contrivances that don’t make sense and only exist to force a certain plot to happen, with virtually no character relationships that are interesting and sloppy political allegories that aren’t actually told through a good story and are basically just Barber puppeteering the characters to scream “THIS IS A POLITICAL ALLEGORY DO YOU GET IT” as if this is entertaining or #deep when really it’s just boring and annoying.

[chirpingchorus]

chirp

(long and silly rant in tags so maybe don't open them if you're scrolling at a leisurely pace)

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 07:30 P.M 」

cat anon, i'm holding you responsible for this very domestic and cute idea of indulgence, and ahhhhhh i just need more fluff—

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re always, always so messy!”

“you never put the socks where they belong!”

“and lately you stink too!”

you were ranting a whole lot of your grievances to your husband as you munched on chocolate cookies from a jar, your face scrunched up and visibly vexed.

throughout it all, satoru took on your tirade with a very smooth smile, occasionally suppressing his impulse to burst into laughter, because what an adorable sight you were—all pouting with the swell of his child inside you, messing up your hormones.

“i stink?” he tilted his head to the side, blinking innocently, eyes crinkling with such fondness and a visible hint of laugh. “that can’t be—”

“you are! and you are home late too these days!” you puffed your cheeks, now chubbier—and you’re so freaking cute this way, there’s nothing satoru wants more than to smooch you, really.

“is that your way of saying that you missed me, hmm?”

“no! why would i?!”

“because i’m your very good-looking husband?”

“ew! no! you’re just a horny weirdo!”

that finally got him to outwardly snicker. “can’t you see that we’re doing an honorable deed? we’re increasing japan’s birth rate~”

it wasn’t the first time of you suddenly painting him up as the bad guy due to your raging hormones, and satoru was entertained each and every time. he always humored you without fail even when you got mad at him for no reason—in his eyes, you were just the height of cuteness, and he was ever so grateful that you were growing his baby at all.

later at night, after your bath, a softer part of you suddenly felt a tad bit guilty for roasting your husband—the hormones at play, heh—and now, wanted to snuggle up to him instead.

satoru’s eyes lit up in mischief when you got to the bed and pressed yourself to him.

“oh? so the wife now wants cuddles?”

“…can’t i? i’ve done a lot for you—carrying your baby is a job in and of itself.” you pointed at your bump with a pout. “see if you can find another girl who can put up with you and just ask for cuddles in return.”

“ehh? is that what you want me to do? go find another girl and forget you just like that?”

the idea made you frown and satoru immediately barked a laugh, pulling you to sit on his lap.

“aww, look at that cute face,” he tried to appease you, a stupid grin on his face as he poked your cheek, with you still frowning deeply. “no, no. that’s not going to happen~”

you were still giving him a very annoyed look, and satoru knew just what to make you soft for him again, as he pulled you by your chin closer and peppered your face with kisses—

“you’re” kiss “the only girl” kiss “i’ll ever love” kiss —yeah?”

safe to say, you melted into a puddle in his arms, ignoring the searing heat on your cheeks as you pressed your face to his chest, with him chuckling, wrapping one arm around you in a secure hold and roaming his other hand on your tummy, smile widening upon feeling a kick.

“well, kid, mama is such a sweetie, isn’t she?”

[kenjioharashotspot]

Baby Daddy Kenji Sato! Who thrives when he sees you and his baby girl cheering for him on his baseball games. Every time he's successful at running across all bases, he points at the both of you and winks, smiling ear to ear.

Baby Daddy Kenji Sato! Who cries every time he sees you're having a hard time breastfeeding the baby, not being able to control the tears rolling down your cheeks, as the little one aggressively tries to get her food.

Baby Daddy Kenji Sato! Who always buys customized clothes for you and the baby to wear when you go watch his baseball games, or just to lounge around the house.

Baby Daddy Kenji Sato! He takes pictures of you and the baby, plastering them all over the fridge, his locker, his car even his phone case.

Baby Daddy Kenji Sato! Who tries his best to entertain the baby so you can have some time to yourself, whether it is to take a relaxing bath or just go outside get some fresh air.

Baby Daddy Kenji Sato! He always praises you for the amazing work, taking care of the baby and him. "I'm so lucky to have you, baby"; "Our baby is gonna grow up to admire every single thing you do"; "Even with your hair all tangled, you're the most beautiful woman in the world, sweetheart"; "I feel so grateful to have you in my life, you have no idea".

Baby Daddy Kenji Sato! He gets all excited when the baby is babbling, letting out all kinds of baby noises, he finds it the cutest thing.

[tbaluver]

Can you write the guys reaction to having a baby girl as their first child? (I'm a sucker for papa's little princesses)

Thank you and your works are the best and comforting!

Papa's Little Princess- The Love And DeepSpace Men

synopsis: when your first child is a girl! genre: fluff fluff a/n: omg this was such a cute idea i wish they were real (╥﹏╥) and thank you so much! i hope my works can continuing being comforting for you and anybody else <3 i hope this was okay and that you enjoy this! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

His little star

A gentle father. He's the type to never yell at his daughter but he'll provide positive disciplining strategies with you.

He wants to be in every part of his daughter's life in any way he can. He wouldn't really know how to do his daughter's hair but he was willing to try ! He would watch you tie her hair, braid, and put many accessories in her hair and he would be confused on how you did all that. He tried looking up how to do her hair and his first time wasn't the best.....but after some practice with you, he would be a pro just like you!

Do NOT let these two bake together especially with the easy bake ovens. Nearly set the kitchen on fire attempting to make cookies for you. He couldn't say no to her when she wanted to cook or try baking with him. You don't know how but it ended up burnt or with the weirdest toppings ever and a broken easy bake oven.

Nap time is serious business with these two. They are not to be disturbed. She's either asleep on his chest or in his lap. Whenever you take walks and she gets too tired, he'll carry her around on his back. She'll rest her head on the crook of his neck while he holds onto her tightly.

She would have all the plushies, toys, and snacks she wants! He'll do his all to get her the plushies in the claw machine to make his little angel jump up and down in joy. She could never have enough

Loves to join her in her imaginative play whether she wants to be a princess or an astronaut. It makes playtime full of joy and adventure

Zayne:

You two would have the most polite, well mannered, and kindest daughter ever.

Loves to participate in playing house with her. He'll sit on the floor or the tiny chairs from the tea party set you gotten for her. He'll play the role with no complaints and tell her that the tea is delicious even though there is absolutely no tea in the plastic cup.

He's a doctor but he can't help but sneak a few sweet treats for her. If she wants some before lunch or dinner then she can have at least one before she eats her meal and then she'll have plenty more after. These two would have cavities later on.

He would make her all the mini snowmen and other things she wants from his evol. He finds her reaction to be adorable each time, it never gets old.

If your daughter mentions a boy, he would tell her she can have a boyfriend around 30. She would be happy and so was he. Mainly because she has no concept of time and age yet.

Your daughter loves to hear him read. Even though she was still very very young and didn't grasp everything just yet, he would read her stories and explain them with care and patience, aiming to entertain and nurture her curiosity. She loves to sit on his lap and sometimes she'll fall asleep on him.

He would let her pick any flower she wants to grow in your garden at the backyard. You would all start a small garden together and he would teach her how to care for them.

Rafayel:

Takes playing house a little too seriously. Whatever role his daughter gives him, he's giving it his all.

Oh he was so excited when your daughter first held a crayon. He colors with her a lot and eventually will introduce her to paint. He would tell her that she's doing so well even if they were just blobs. She's going to be an artist just like her papa. He'll even add some of her artwork on his so he can point it out to her if he were to have another exhibition tour.

First time at the beach with his daughter was such an emotional day for him. Hearing and seeing her squeal when her little feet touched the water warmed his heart. He held her so tightly and tenderly, reassuring her that she won't float away because her papa's got her. He teaches her a lot about how some fishes are friendly and one day he'll meet some of his fish friends.

He'll eventually tell her all about Lemuria whenever it was time for bed and he thought it's so cute whenever she wanted to hear more about it.

Would absolutely love to play dress up with her. Sometimes he'll pick some of her clothes out and he would think she is beautiful just like her mama. They'll make a little runway and model the outfits.

He would keep all the little milestones she has made and any memories. He'll keep all the photos, drawings, and any mementos to look back at the treasured memories.

Sylus:

The second person who will ever see his soft side is his daughter. You being the first.

He is protective over his daughter and with you. If anyone were to look at either one of you wrong? Sleep with one eye open.

He does not have fragile masculinity! He will let her apply as much toy makeup as she wants on his face. He'll play dress up with her as much as she wants no matter how obscure the outfits are! He has no complaints, anything to make his little angel smile and happy.

She loves hearing him sing lullabies. It puts her to sleep immediately but sometimes she'll sing or hum along with him.

If you tell your daughter no to something then she'll ask Sylus. He can't say no to his sweet baby girl. Just don't tell mom. He doesn't know what true fear is until he meets a mothers anger.

Loves to spoil her just like how he loves to spoil you. Not to the point where she's a brat though, you two would teach her to be better than that. "Just because" gifts to make her feel special without any special occasions

Anytime he would be away for business, he'll always bring you two something back. Something that you both either love or reminds him of you two or maybe both.

BONUS (All): They would all be patient fathers overall. They would never yell if your daughter showed any emotions especially if their daughters were to cry. They’re offering their own patience, love, and comfort in their own way. They would be there for your daughter emotionally as they were with you.

[ozzgin]

I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol

If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!

Best wishes

-🌟

I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)

Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Fantastic show tonight!"

The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.

"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 

"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."

You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 

Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.

Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.

So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.

"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.

That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.

When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 

You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.

Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:

"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"

You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 

"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"

As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.

"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.

"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 

As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.

You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 

"Should we leave?"

You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.

"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."

He grins at your last statement.

"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"

You nod.

"Then let's get you undressed, miss."

Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 

[cherryredcheol]

"baby"

tldr: all the way seungcheol uses your nickname a/n: this has been written and waiting to be posted forEVER but i'm finally ready (i am down horrific for this man)

seungcheol x reader fluff wc: 1k

reprimands: to make sure you know he's yours

“baby.” his tone is firm, controlling. he thought it would be a good idea to invite you to his shoot today, thinking you'd like to see him in the expensive clothes he was always put in for cover shoots. what he didn’t account for was you pouting over the friendly makeup artist assigned to him for the day. 

“don’t pout. you know i only have eyes for you.” he was trying to reason with you but his patience was wearing thin. you were being difficult on purpose and he couldn’t really do anything about it given the need to protect his image and act as professional as possible. you just huffed, frown settling deeper on your face. 

“you’re being a little unreasonable,” based on the look you gave him that was the completely wrong thing to say to you. he turned when he heard them call for him from set. it was time to shine. he walked over to where you sat, bending down to meet your eyes, “if you’re good for the rest of the day i’ll reward you when we get home, baby.” 

whines: when he doesn’t have your attention

“baby,” he could hear the pathetic tone in his voice but he just couldn’t help it. he’d had a long day of meetings and listening to presentations, the only thing keeping him going was knowing that you would be waiting at home for him when it was all over. you’d look at him with your soft eyes and dote on him all weekend, just how he liked. now here he was, waiting to be coddled and you were too busy giggling at your phone to spare him a glance. 

“what could be so entertaining on the phone that you can’t spend time with me?” he was laying it on thick but he was desperate at this point, especially when his question was only answered by another tittering laugh that was still not directed at him. at this point, he was fed up. he craned his neck to see what had you all giggly. 

“oh my god. you’re kidding me!” he couldn’t believe his eyes. playing on your phone was an edit of him from the most recent gose episode. the clip wasn’t even his best moment in the episode, but he did look quite handsome that day so he can’t blame you for watching. he still really wanted to be fussed over, “seriously, put your phone down. i’m much cuter in person, baby.” 

cat-calls: as you walk by in his favorite dress

“baby!” he called out to you, dragging out the ‘y’ sound. you paused, stopping in the middle of the bedroom as you crossed from the closet to the ensuite bathroom. he was seated on the bed, tying his shoelaces when he caught sight of you in the soft pink sundress he loved so much. you looked at him with big, curious eyes, wondering why he had stopped you in the middle of getting ready for your date in the park. 

“spin for me.” he got up from the bed and reached for your hand. he held it up, above your head and twirled you in a circle, eyes taking in every inch of you. he was excited to have a picnic with you but now he was considering scrapping the whole thing to stay behind. seeing you in a sundress always did something to him. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he was full of compliments, making sure you knew exactly how beautiful he thought you were. he considered himself a lucky man every day he got to spend with you. he supposed his desire for you could wait a few hours. he should spoil you rotten with a date in the park, before spoiling you in bed. “sure you really want to go out, baby?”

admires: because he’s proud of you

“baby,” his voice is soft, eyes even softer as he cups your face. he’d just gotten home from his schedule and you’d greeted him at the door, immediately sharing the news of your promotion with him. it was a small, mostly lateral move, with a tiny raise but you were still excited to share the news with him. he kisses you deeply, trying to convey his pride to you wordlessly. 

“i should tell my mom. she’s going to be so happy for you.” this made you blush. you knew he’d be proud but you didn’t really expect him to be so happy that he’d want to tell everyone. it wasn’t even a big deal. you begged him not to call his mom right that moment and instead conceded to a spontaneous celebratory dinner at your favorite restaurant. 

“i’m so proud of you,” this was now the sixth time he told you this since you shared the news with him, the second on the car ride to the restaurant. you blushed every time he said it, and had asked him to stop, to which he refused. in fact, he had doubled down. he threatened to have a cake brought to the table at dinner if you tried to silence him again. at a red light, he fished his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to you, “call my mom, for real. i want us to share the news with her. she’s going to be so proud, baby.”

barks: on accident

“baby!” the name came out harsh, frustrated. you’d never heard it that way before; this time, it wasn’t even directed at you. the dressing room fell silent and you watched the blush creep up his neck. the boys were never going to let him live this down. he turned from you, the conversation you were having before he went on stage now gone from his mind. 

“sorry, i meant to say ‘seungkwan’”. he was trying to save the situation but it was awkward. not only had he tried to reprimand his members but he’s accidentally used your name to do it, embarrassing himself in front of his members, staff, and you. what was once a bustling hub of movement and concert preparation came to a screeching, uncomfortable halt at his faux pas. 

“we know you like seungkwan, but we didn't know you liked him that much, hyung.” jeonghan broke the tension saving his leader and ushering in some polite laughter. the commotion slowly began again and he turned back to you. his face looked normal, probably due to the makeup, but his neck was bright red. he was flustered, “they’re never going to let this go, baby.”

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 17: Alone

Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,866

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.

A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see 🤭. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“We'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.” 

He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. You’re forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.

You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. You’re on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet it’s not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now. 

You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart. 

You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then they’d be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but it’s never felt like this. They’re not just across base from you, they’re probably in an entirely different country. 

You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghost’s closed door feels particularly empty. 

You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. You’re not quite sure what you’re going to do, now that you don’t have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while they’re at training, except you won’t have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to. 

It’ll be days before you see them again. 

If you see them again. 

You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You won’t entertain it, not now while you’re still trying to process the fact that they’re gone. Even if it is a possibility. 

You’re sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You don’t want to be without it, in case they call. You don’t want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if it’s your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.

You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesn’t feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. She’s been here before, and you trust her. 

“How are you doing?” She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. 

“I don’t know.” You say, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” 

“I don’t blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?” 

You nod. “Yeah. It’s too quiet. Too empty.” 

“I bet.” You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. “Let’s get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.” 

“Was gonna happen eventually, though.” You say. “For the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.” 

“It does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if it’s short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what it’s like.” 

“I’m trying not to think about that.” You say. 

“I think that’s the best thing you can do right now.” She squeezes your arm. “Come on, we’ll get the food to go and we’ll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. It’s much quieter than the mess.” 

You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you won’t have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, you’re sure it would have only been worse.  

“Make yourself at home.” Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. “You can sit at the desk to eat, if that’s more comfortable. I don’t mind.” 

You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, she’s always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you. 

“If there’s one thing I miss, it’s good diner food.” Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat. 

You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. “I miss a lot of things.” 

“Would you ever want to go back and visit America?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.” 

“I’m sure they’d take you, if you asked.” She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. “I don’t think there’s much they wouldn’t do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.” 

“I’m starting to realize that.” You say. 

“Good. It’s reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. You’ve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.” 

It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment. 

“Can I ask you something?” You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts. 

“Of course.” She says, looking up from the papers she’d been looking through. 

“Since I’m your only patient, what do you do all day?” You ask. 

She smiles. “I do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.” 

“Do you ever feel like you’re wasting your skills here?” 

She shakes her head. “No. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, there’s a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.” She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. “It’s no less fulfilling than working at institutes. It’s nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.” 

“It is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.” You say. “There were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They weren’t always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.” 

“Unfortunately that’s rather common with residents.” She says. “Most of them don’t make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.” She smiles at you. “Now my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You won’t hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.” 

You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also don’t want to be alone. 

“I’d...like to stay here, if that’s okay?” You finally say, making your decision. 

“More than okay.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home, do whatever you’d like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You won’t bother me in the slightest. You’re always welcome to hang out in here.” 

You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesn’t calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit. 

You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you. 

You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing they’re not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away. 

You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know it’s an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents you’ve had with them. The most they do is stare, though that’s to be expected as an omega. 

What if they’re holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment. 

You’re shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you’ve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller won’t be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope they’d help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you? 

Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you don’t get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? It’s not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you? 

You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No one’s coming through the door, no one’s going to try and hurt you. 

Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday. 

The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact you’re freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’re still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of John’s shirts and sweatpants. 

You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You won’t sleep, but at least you’re not panicking anymore. 

The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news. 

You’re not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know they’re all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them. 

You’re still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. You’re exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. You’re constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling. 

Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. It’s a risk you’re well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you. 

You’re not sure you’d survive that. 

Most omegas don’t. 

“Still nothing?” Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least. 

You shake your head. “Nothing.” 

“Sometimes no news is good news.” She says. “I know you’d prefer to have any news at all, though.” 

“I can’t stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?” You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard. 

“Kate promised she’d call if something happened, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“She’s a woman of her word, I can say that much. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re very capable soldiers. They wouldn’t be in Spec Ops if they weren’t, much less on a highly specialized team.” Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. “It’s still hard, not knowing where they are or what they’re doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.” She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. “I still don’t think she’s completely forgiven him. It’s hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you can’t have constant reassurance that they’re alright.” 

Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. “Your mom was an omega?” 

She nods. “And dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I don’t think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.” She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. “Come on, lay down.” She directs you. 

You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. “Is that why you’re so good at this job?” 

She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. “Maybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.” She gently squeezes your arm. “They’ll be alright. They’re probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.” 

You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. “What if I fall asleep and it rings?” 

“Then I’ll make sure you get a chance to answer it.” She says, squeezing your arm again. “I promise. Get some rest.” 

You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if they’re lying dead somewhere right now? What if something’s happened to Kate and she can’t tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know? 

Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Keller’s couch. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it as you begin to drift off to sleep. 

Screaming. It’s loud, piercing your ears. Something’s holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you don’t care. 

“You won’t take her from me! I won’t let you!”

You’re crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you. 

Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it won’t let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go. 

You know what will happen if you let go. 

“She’s no daughter of mine.” 

The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over? 

Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. You’re being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your mother’s hold and into the unknown. 

“Easy, easy.” 

You’re gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you. 

“Deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.” 

Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest. 

“You’re alright, you’re safe.” 

You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. You’re on the couch in Dr. Keller’s office still. You’re not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare you’ve lived over and over. 

Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms. 

“You’re alright,” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently. 

You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself. 

“Since my heat.” You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly. 

“You haven’t said anything about it.” She says gently, shifting slightly so she’s facing you. 

“I didn’t want to.” You say quietly, shame burning through you. She’s not reprimanding you, yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. “I shouldn’t be having them, I mean...it’s not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.” 

“It might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing you’ve been through.” 

Her words give you pause. You’ve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done, are far worse than anything you’ve experienced. The things you’ve experienced may pale in comparison, but they’re your experiences. No one else’s. 

“If you want to talk about them, that’s what I’m here for.” Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do. 

You don’t have to tell her. She won’t force you to do it. She won’t force you to do anything, to say anything you don’t want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who won’t tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you. 

You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. “My nightmares, they’re always about the day I left for the institute.” You start, taking a shaky breath. “I haven’t had them in years.” 

“You were sent early after your presentation, right?” She asks. 

“The day after.” You answer. 

“Being sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I can’t even imagine what being sent that soon was like.” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we don’t feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.” 

“You think that’s what’s happening?” You ask. 

“It’s possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why you’re having nightmares about that event suddenly.” 

“Is there anything that will make them stop?” You ask. 

“There’s some things we can do together that might help the process. I’m more than happy to help you with it, if that’s what you’d like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.” 

“What are we gonna tell John?” 

She gives you a look. “Well, I’d advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, that’s entirely up to you and what you want to do.” 

You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently. 

“Think about it.” She says. “We can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.” 

You’re brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before you’re answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadn’t even checked the screen to see who was calling. You’re just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence. 

“Hello?” 

There’s a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. “Alpha.” The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing John’s voice after so many days. 

“I’m here. We’re all here.” He says, distant voices sounding in the background. 

A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. “Missed you.” 

“I know, we’ve missed you too.” 

You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. “You alright? Is everyone alright?” 

“We’re alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we haven’t had before. How are you holding up?” 

The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. You’ve been depressed and worried and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that you haven’t panicked about something. You’ve been having horrible nightmares and haven’t been sleeping. There’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you’re afraid it might kill you if you don’t see them soon. 

“I’m alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” There’s a sound on the other end, something you can’t make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment you’re worried you were disconnected, but John’s voice cuts through the noise again. “We’re finishing up here soon, and we’ll be home in a couple of days.” 

You can’t help but sigh in relief at his words. They’re alright. They’re all safe, and they’re going to be home soon. You’re going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. “Hurry back.” You say, your voice shaky with emotion. 

“We’ll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but we’ll be back before you know it.” 

Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe it’s the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing they’re really alright paired with the knowledge that they’ll be home soon. Two days doesn’t seem so far now that you know that’s all that stands between you and seeing your pack again. 

You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even John’s bed have started to smell more like you. 

The first thing you’re going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until they’re the only thing you can smell. 

For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. It’s not much, but it’s a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you. 

You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your pack’s imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know they’re coming home soon. You clean up John’s room, making his bed again after you’d made a mess of it trying to sleep. They’re all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely won’t be spending much time in it for a while. You’re going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared. 

You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes you’d stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. You’re not expecting a knock yet. It’s too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her. 

That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you don’t know. 

Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You don’t know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless it’s an emergency. Is there an emergency? You’re almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. There’d be some sign that something was happening, but it’s quiet outside, or at least, there’s no noises you’re not expecting. 

The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door. 

You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They don’t, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. There’s a soldier outside your door. A woman. You don’t recognize her, but then again you don’t see many women on the base, and you don’t pay much attention to the other soldiers. 

Maybe you need to start paying more attention. 

She’s a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. She’s wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here. 

She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. “General Shepherd is waiting for you.” 

It takes you a moment to process what it is she’s saying. You’ve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority you’ve met is John, but you know he’s only a Captain. There’s others above him, but you weren’t any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadn’t even been given names of anyone higher up than her. 

Apparently something’s changed. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isn’t right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldn’t have opened the door so recklessly. 

“But, I’m not supposed to-” You begin, unsure of what to do now. 

“It’s a direct order from your superior.” The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.

You’re not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and he’s certainly not behind this. 

You wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Not right now. 

“Okay, okay.” You say, stepping back slightly from the door. “Let me just get some shoes on.” 

You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you don’t put it past the woman outside to barge in if you don’t hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again. 

She’s still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. You’re reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost. 

You’d take those times back over this right now. 

Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake you’ve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. You’re not even sure General Shepherd is a real person. 

The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did? 

You don’t want anyone to get in trouble. 

Especially not with this being the first time you’ve been on your own. They’ve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while they’re gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything you’ve built by misbehaving. 

The woman leads you to a building you haven’t been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if they’re testing you to see if you’d just blindly leave with a stranger while they’re not there to protect you. 

You’ve made a big mistake. 

The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. “Your phone.” 

You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You don’t have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door. 

It’s bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. You’re uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesn’t seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. You’re thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line. 

He’s in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all. 

You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though it’s only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf. 

No one will hear you scream. No one will care. 

“My name is General Shepherd.” He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. “I am the acting commander of Task Force 141.” 

You’re not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though you’ve never met him before in your life. 

“I was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?” 

You shake your head. “N-No sir, the CIA didn’t give me any names.” 

“Good.” His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves any. “They weren’t supposed to. I’m sure you’ve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.” 

“Yes, sir.” You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe. 

“I came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You’re getting along well with them?” 

You nod again. “Yes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.” 

“Good.” He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while you’re so vulnerable. “The success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. You’re doing important work here with the Task Force.” His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark. 

You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you. 

No one would know. No one would care.  

“I’m satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.” He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. “How have you been adjusting to them being gone?” 

“It’s been difficult,” You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. “But I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.” 

His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. “You’re a smart girl. That’s why I chose you for this position. You’re doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.” 

Something about his words don’t sit right with you. 

You’re trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. You’re sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside. 

You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that she’s breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust that’s so sacred to packs. 

She doesn't even seem bothered by it. 

She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze. 

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you. 

You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words. 

She’s American. 

“Thank you for escorting me.” You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Have a safe trip home.” 

You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief. 

Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it. 

You always close your door. You always ensure it’s shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks. 

You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. It’s open. Your door is open. 

Someone was inside your room. 

NEXT ->

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[rkvriki]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ enhypen obliviously in love

hi.......lmfao i keep disappearing i swear i'm alive but my isnpo has been going down the drain but i got this cute lil idea also to take a break of all the smutty things i've been posting lolz... anyways hope you enjoy this one !

make sure to leave feedback and reblog! my requests are closed and my talk box is always open so lets talk!

WARNINGS ! none really i think?? this is just not my best work im sorry </3 word count: 1.9k a/n: sorry that some of them, mainly hee's, are smaller than others, my brain isn't functioning and i had a writer's block during this and if it's not goo it's bc i quite forced myself to write this bc i wanted to post sth :(

୨୧ LEE HEESEUNG ! - trying to hold your hand and failing

you and heeseung met through mutual friends in your first year of college and you became almost inseparable ever since then. in the beginning of it, you would only be together when the whole group was, but as time went by and you both started feeling more than just platonic feelings you two started hanging out alone as well. it was usual for heeseung to walk you to your apartment after classes and today was no different. you two walked side by side, the sun almost setting behind you. it was mostly quiet except for the background chatting and the small talk you two would make about something you saw. you could feel heeseung’s hand brushing against yours from time to time and you were internally cursing him out for not holding your hand already. after a few moments of silence, you heard heeseung sigh as he gained courage to hold your hand. his hand got closer to yours but- oh! a light post came between you two. needless to say heeseung was a blushing mess while you laughed at him.

୨୧ PARK JONGSEONG ! - confronting you about it

anyone had to be really blind to not notice the romantic connection there was between you and jay. it was so obvious you were both in love with each other, it was almost painful how one of the sides didn’t notice. that side being you. it’s not like you didn’t like jay romantically, because you do. a lot. but you felt like he just saw you as a best friend he tends to protect a lot. jay didn’t really show it, but he gets really frustrated when he tries to make a move on you in a subtle way, only for you to put him in the friend zone, but it’s all unintentional. every time someone tells you “jay totally likes you.” you’re quick to dismiss them because he would never see you like that. even though you’re the one saying it, it breaks you inside. until one day, you’re both in a diner, sharing fries and a milkshake and you can see jay fidgeting nervously and bouncing his leg repeatedly. “you’re restless, what’s going on?” you ask him, worried. jay sighs heavily and props his elbows on the table, staring at you with a serious expression. “look, i don’t know if i should just give up, because at this point you have to be pretending not to know.” he says “T-to know what?” he laughs at that. “that i like you, dummy.”

୨୧ SIM JAEYUN ! - tries to kiss you and fails

as childhood friends you and jake were always expected to end up dating by your fellow family members. you would always brush off any comments about you two (deep down you wish they were true) while jake just smiled like a fool while looking at you. it was no surprise when jake told his friends he liked you. it wasn’t hard to notice how he felt about you, seen the way he looks at you with glimmering eyes as he took in every word you say. he has never really tried to hide how he felt about you. he wasn’t ashamed of it and couldn’t wait for the moment you realized he liked you, because deep down he knew you felt like him too. it’s funny to him how he’s always making flirty comments and giving you kind of romantic presents and still you just thought he was playing his role as your best friend. but still, even though it was all funny and entertaining to watch, jake was tired of waiting and he decided to just directly show you how he feels. so that’s how you find yourself sitting in the park bench with him as layla plays around. jake takes a quiet deep breath as his hand comes up to brush your hair from your face, making you face him. he takes that as an opportunity to lean down. you, thinking he was gonna whisper something, turned your face to the side, making him bump his head against you. he starts laughing at you, making you confused. “you can’t really see it, can you?”

୨୧ PARK SUNGHOON ! - misunderstanding gone right ?

no one who knew you two understood how in hell you and sunghoon weren’t a couple. it was so obvious you both liked each other but still none of you seemed to do anything about it. you two were your class’s representatives so you two were almost always together and it wasn’t too hard to notice the lingering touches or stares you shared. but something the other students didn’t know was that you two had actually talked about your “feelings”. one day sunghoon almost overheard you telling your friend you liked him. “you like me?” he had asked “no! no, i don’t like you, sunghoon.” you answered trying to play it off. he nodded, his lips pursing. “good, then because i’m in love with someone else.”. it was something along those lines and you two had never talked about it again, but the tension never left. it felt heavy on you and it was painful to spend time alone with sunghoon so you settled that you were gonna tell him the truth. “remember that day you asked me if i liked you?” he hummed as he stopped in his tracks. “well, i lied. i like you, actually. i don’t want things to get awkward because you don’t feel the same but i needed to be honest.” his eyes widened as he stared at you like you were crazy. “are you kidding me? i only said i didn’t like you because you said you didn’t like me.” you gasped and pointed an accusing finger at him “why did you lie then? you said you were in love-” “hey! don’t put the blame on me now you lied too.” “well, we still can fix it right?” you said laughing making him do the same.

୨୧ KIM SUNOO ! - “PFT! who would ever like me?”

you and sunoo weren’t the closest people ever but you two spent a lot of time together since pretty much all of your friends were mutual. still, that fact didn’t stop you from developing a silly crush on him that quickly turned into something more serious the more you got to know him in the very few times the two of you were left alone after a group hangout. no one knew about it except for your best friend. you never told sunoo, not because you were afraid of rejection or him being rude because with how sweet his personality is, he would’ve rejected you in such a friendly manner it would make you think he’s reciprocating the feelings, but because no one like him would ever like you, he was way out of your league. so, confessing was definitely out of question, no matter how much your best friend would insist you would simply not do it. but in reality, it wasn’t really like that. one day you were hanging out with sunoo and your best friend at a cat cafe when suddenly in the conversation you said something along the words of “who would ever like?” and bold sunoo, was not afraid to hide his sincere feelings and answered with “i do.” he smiled while you looked up blushing furiously. your best friend laughing maniacally. “w-what?” sunoo chuckled at your reaction. “i thought i made it quite obvious that i liked you, silly.”  oh! who would’ve guessed!

୨୧ YANG JUNGWON ! - heard you liked “someone else”

you and jungwon had met each other in sophomore year of highschool and it was safe to say there was a connection instantly that was more than just a platonic one. you two quickly became attached at the hip. if jungwon said he was going somewhere it was sure that you would be here two, if you were being invited somewhere they could already expect the “can jungwon come along?” question, and vice-versa. it wasn’t strange when people came up to either you or him and asked if you were dating each other and it honestly shocked everyone when you both would always answer no to it, even your own girlfriends found your “friendship” strange. they did not find the idea of a boy-girl friendship weird or impossible to exist but they just couldn’t see your dynamic as friends so it was bound for them to question you. you heard the question so many times you decided to just tell them “fine! yes, i like him so, what?” you saw their shocked faces but they weren’t looking at you. you looked behind you seeing jungwon behind you. when you locked eyes he was quick to turn his back and walk away making you panic. a few days have gone by after that and you decided you needed to talk to him. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i didn’t want things to get ruined by this.” jungwon stared at you “who even is tha guy?” he asked making you look at him as if he had three heads. “what?” you asked “what what?” “jungwon the guy is literally you, i thought that was settled already.” jungwon stayed silent before laughing like a maniac. “if you’re here to make fun of me you can-” jungwon shut you off with a kiss, making you relaize where things went wrong.

୨୧ NISHIMURA RIKI ! - i don’t even know how to word this one

let’s settle one thing. you two knew you both liked each other. romantically. you just don’t bother on labelling it or directly showing it to each other. everyone around you found your dynamic honestly weird but to you two it was more simple than people put it to be. it all started when you were really oblivious about ni-ki’s feelings for you so he decided to hint that he liked you more than a friend. like one time you were walking to his house and he just shoot “you look cute.” but you didn’t quite hear what he said, distracted by a dog “what did you say?” he sighed “i said you look like a fruit.” “riki that does not make sense, but whatever you say.” and he started gradually getting bolder. “i can’t get this song out of my head.” you told him during class “i can’t get you out of my head.” oh! that was new information for you “thanks…?” at this point you were acting dumb for him and he couldn’t take it anymore so he got even more straightforward. during one of your daily walks you were rambling about a flower you saw on the way and he just let you talk as his hand sneakily grabbed yours, making you stop talking and falter in your steps “what?” he asked as if it was nothing “n-nothing!” he smiled as he kept walking along with you. after that day he noticed a change. a good one. and that’s when he realized you had realized so he decided to just get to the point “is it weird if i kiss you?” he asked when you were eating lunch in the school garden. you put your drink down and turned to look at him. “honestly, riki? yes. do i care? no.” so with that he grabbed your face, kissing you as he smiled against your lips.

[cvnntagious]

♱ ⋮ fratboy!chris headcanons ⸝⸝

all my fratboy!chris blurbs, fics, and wips : here

⇢ SFW

✱ fratboy!chris who, of course, met you at a party his fraternity threw and instantly decided you were comin' up to his room at some point, even if it wasn't gonna happen that night

" y'look good "

" me? "

" yeah, you— wa's y'name? "

✱ fratboy!chris who's known all too well by girls at boston university, though, despite contrary belief, he doesn't actually entertain most of them... guess you got lucky?

✱ fratboy!chris who's BU's resident dealer, known by every fiend on campus and more

✱ fratboy!chris who doesn't fuck with relationship labels whatsoever

✱ fratboy!chris who doesn't mess with anyone else, and doesn't want you to either, even though you guys aren't really 'dating'

✱ fratboy!chris who has no problem letting everyone know you're his with pride

✱ fratboy!chris who would rather focus on his lacrosse career than "some shitty college romances", or at least that's how he explains it to you

" and why are you telling me this? "

" jus' thought y'should know... i'on want you gettin' any funny ideas about what we got goin' on here "

✱ fratboy!chris who avoids any conversations about the future, or anything that requires him to even think about committing

✱ fratboy!chris who constantly needs you with him, whether he's just lounging around, at practice/games, or out making moves. ironic, isn't it?

✱ fratboy!chris who doesn't call you anything but mama, not even ma, no matter the occasion

" y'see how crazy you're bein' right now? mama, m'jus sittin' here, see? can't stand when y'do allat whinin' shit "

" don't call me mama right now, chris, i'm done with all your fake nonchalant ass games "

✱ fratboy!chris who, even with being admired for his outgoing and charming personality, has such a rotten temper, especially when things don't go his way

✱ fratboy!chris who always says what's on his mind - to you, his friends, random people, anyone - even if it's completely unnecessary

✱ fratboy!chris who absolutely relishes in the respect he has from not only his peers, but the staff as well. humble's simply not a word in his world

⇢ NSFW

✱ fratboy!chris who's big and knows how to use it

✱ fratboy!chris who favors doggy, but can also get down with some rough missionary

" nah, s'okay mama... we'll switch it up tonight, don't worry "

✱ fratboy!chris who likes giving, but loves receiving. the image of your lips wrapped around his length is what helps him to sleep at night

✱ fratboy!chris who's a huge hair puller and thigh slapper (as well as occasional cheek squeezer)

✱ fratboy!chris who will take any opportunity he possibly can to either roll up or puff his joints while you use him

✱ fratboy!chris who makes sure to leave marks. usually where only you two can see, but if he feels like a guy's paying too much attention to you, he'll mark you on your neck or something for him to see

" chris, it's so obvious. how am i even gonna cover this up? "

" don't cover it. i'd like to see m'try an' get in your pants again when he sees allat "

" he literally asked for the material in our class..? "

✱ fratboy!chris who's almost always down for trying something new, but isn't usually one to suggest it

✱ fratboy!chris who loves when you praise him, even if it's unintentional. simple things like "so big," or "so good," really get him going

" yeah, s'good? y'wan more of that good shit? "

✱ fratboy!chris who, to no surprise, is horrible at aftercare.

a/n : i fear this took a lot longer than i thought it would to make... but i'll be making at least one of these for each of my au's since a) i'm unmotivated/don't have time to actually write, and b) want to develop the characters (and some of their pairings) further

-love, grandma cvnty ☆!