#and is just mentally yelling at himself ''DO NOT RUN. DO NOT RUN!!!''

[thechaotictheoryy]

Winterfall.

summary: Yunho doesn't know when the last time he didn't feel so much loneliness. You also experienced the same thing causing you to run away from home. What happens when the two of you meet in a small restaurant in the cold winter month of December, discovering that loneliness isn't forever.

pairing: reader x non-idol! Yunho

genre: (18+ minors dni), romance, smut, situational and emotional loneliness, strangers to lovers.

word count: 4,827.

warnings: deep conversation, talks of extreme loneliness, crying, Yunho is really sweet, making out, soft dom! yunho, dry humping, unprotected sex (don't do this lmao), oral sex (both receiving) fingering, slight hand kink, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, etc.), slightly slow sex, creampie, cockwarming.

song rec: Chroma Drift by Plave and Just For Two by Jey.

The snow was so crisp and white as Yunho made his way down the street. It was like any other night when he left the office, it was close to midnight and there were few people still walking around. Yunho’s stomach kept growling since the last thing he ate was a banana and some pretzels for lunch. He knew his roommate and best friend Mingi would scold him for that later since they worked in the same place but Mingi got off a little early today.

The familiar sign of Yunho’s favorite restaurant came into view. It was a simple hole in the wall place that he had found his freshman year of college when he moved to Seoul from Gwangju. It was ran by an old Chinese-Korean couple who moved to Seoul in the late 80s and they were really famous for their seafood jjampong. Yunho hadn’t been there in about two weeks now since work was driving him crazy but it was Saturday and he always ate there every Saturday, mostly by himself but sometimes with Mingi or some co-workers. As much as an extrovert Yunho was, loneliness always consumed him. 

Even with friends, his loneliness yearned for something that he couldn’t put into words and he felt bad about it. Mingi always tried to help him out but all his attempts seemed to fail because even when Yunho was physically present… he wasn’t mentally present. 

Yunho opened the door to the restaurant and the aroma of noodles and sour kimchi hit his nose. He loved this smell and he became rather cozy to him as weird as it may seem. 

“Ya! Where have you been?” Ms. Jung, one of the owners, yelled at him as soon as she saw him. 

“I’m sorry Ms. Jung, work has been consuming me” He chuckled. 

“Mhm, well have a seat and I’ll have Riku whip up a fresh bowel for you”

Yunho nodded, making his way to a table and sitting. He noticed Ms. Jung walked over to a girl in the back and handed her more kimchi while rubbing her head before walking away. He raised his eyebrow a little in curiosity. He had never seen you here before in all his 6 years of coming here. He practically knew most of the people who walked in and out this restaurant so how could he have missed you? 

“That’s Y/N” Ms. Jung said, breaking Yunho out of his thoughts and placing his bowl of hot noodles in front of him. “She just moved to Seoul a few weeks ago from Jinju,” she sighed. 

“Why the sigh?” 

“Mm, it’s not my business to tell but just know she doesn’t have the most fond memories of everything there which is why she moved up here” 

Yunho hummed and started eating his noodles. Ms. Jung smiled at him and patted his head before walking back to the kitchen. The restaurant seemed to empty out a little within the next fifteen minutes. Yunho was sitting there eating and looking through some emails on his phone. He caught himself looking in your direction a few times, more than he would like to admit.

One thing was that you were beautiful in his eyes. Too beautiful honestly for someone like him but that’s just what he thought. 

You also did the same without his knowledge, you were glancing at him a lot. To you, he was way out of your league. Someone so tall and handsome like him would never be interested in someone like you especially with how broken you were inside. Loneliness was destined to find you, just like your parents wished on you.

You moved here from Jinju to escape everyone. Your family and the terrible ex you dated for three years that you recently broke up with over eight months ago. You never had the best relationship with your parents because of high expectations they had for you, the blur definitely increased when you went and graduated from art school instead of going to a four year university. The stain in your relationship with them caused you and your little sister to also distant from each other. There was no hate from either of you but because she was being the child your parents wanted you to be, they glorified her more so it made you shut down. 

Your toxic relationship with your on and off boyfriend Jeonghan didn’t make it any better. The constant fights and cheating from his end just for him to apologize and make it so easy for you to come back took a mental toll over you. You knew you shouldn’t have ended it after the first time he degraded you and cheated but you hated being alone. You finally ended it when all your emotions boiled over and you leashed out on him. You knew the relationship was making you toxic and depressed plus the bad relationship with your parents so you decided to move three hours away to Seoul. 

You heard a chair move and you looked up. Yunho walked to the counter and handed Mr. Jung his bowel, he tried to pay for it but Ms. Jung kept insisting that it was on the house so he left something in the tip jar while they still scolded him. It made you smile a bit and you automatically knew he had to be coming here for a while for them to act like that towards him. As Yunho made his way out, you and him made slight eye contact which made him slightly bow at you with a small smile and you bowed a little at him. 

The bells rang on the door as he walked back out into the winter snow. 

Little did he know that his small gesture towards you made warmth flow through your heart. 

A week passed till Yunho found himself back in The Jungs’ restaurant again. This time it was empty except for the two older men who were almost  finished with their bowels at a table near the back. He turned his head and saw you eating near the window. You didn’t notice him yet but he smiled a little, walked to a table near the register. As on queue, a hot bowl of seafood jjampong was in front of him with pickled radish. Work really has been stressing him out and Mingi bringing home random hook ups when he was trying to catch up on sleep didn’t help. 

“She’s been looking for you,” Ms. Jung said quietly, walking next to him. 

“Mm, why?”

“Who knows, I just always see her look towards the door every time she’s here then gets a little disappointed by closing time. I think you should talk to her” 

She walked away before Yunho could tell her that would be impossible. It was impossible because of how stunning you were and he would make a complete fool of himself. Yunho hasn’t been with someone in years and you deserved someone who didn’t drown in his work to cure somewhat of his loneliness. Yunho had looked in your direction again and saw you were gone. He didn’t even notice that you had left but he let out a sign, finishing up his bowel. 

He thanked The Jungs and left for the journey to his apartment. It was very cold tonight and the wind was blowing slightly to add on. He wrapped his scarf around his neck a little tighter as he walked. A few blocks down as he passed the park, he heard someone crying and paused. His eyebrows raised and he slowly walked, eyes searching for the person who was crying. He saw a figure on the bench and made his way over, he felt very bad because the cries were like heartbreaking sobs. 

“Are you okay?” He asked as he approached. You turned your head slowly to look up at him and his eyes widened as he realized who you were. 

“I’m fine,” you looked down and sniffed. 

You heard a bag drop and the bench become a little heavier with weight. You turned your head a little and saw Yunho sitting but looking straight, crossing his arms. 

“You don’t have to share but it’s dark and I can’t let a girl sit out here alone” 

Your chest felt that warmth go through it again. You knew he was only doing as a good person but something about him made the winter not feel so cold tonight. You looked straight and sighed, sniffling. You both sat in silence for about ten minutes till you decided you could speak without breaking down. 

“I.. I just got a call from my parents that my sister passed to get into a college in America” 

“Oh that’s great, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly,” you sighed. “My parents called to praise her and tell me how useless I was to them. They were glad when they heard I moved away so they wouldn’t have to deal with their failure anymore” 

“That’s horrible, I’m sorry” Yunho said. You looked at him and saw concern in his eyes, it shocked you just a little bit because you never saw that from anyone in your life. 

“It’s nothing new but what's upsetting is the fact they sent me three million won and told me to stay out their life,” you teared up. 

You felt yourself about to break down again until felt arms around you and the warmth from a strong chest. It took you a minute to realize Yunho was hugging you. He also didn’t know what came over him but seeing such a pretty girl like you in tears and being degraded and pushed away like you were nothing made him sad with an overwhelming feeling of rage but he didn’t want you to notice. He couldn’t believe someone could do this to their daughter. Once you seemed to calm down a little, he pulled away and you could see his ears were a bit red. 

Cute. 

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“It’s okay I needed that” you smiled. 

“I’m Yunho by the way, should have said my name first” he awkwardly rubbed his neck. 

“Y/N” you nodded. 

“It’s freezing and you should get inside” he stood up. “Let me walk you home” 

“It’s okay” 

“I insist and I would feel terrible if something happened to you” 

You eventually agreed and you both set off to your apartment complex. There was small talk on the ten minute walk there, just about where he was from and where you both worked. You weren’t surprised when he said he worked for a tech company, he just looked the type to do so. That also explained why you always see him at the restaurant so late but he also learned that you worked at a cafe that closed around 9pm which is why you were always at the restaurant late also. 

You two made it in front of your building and he wished you a nice night and started to walk away. You didn’t want him to leave just yet so you said something that the last person who heard broke your heart into pieces.

“Do you want to come up for a drink?” 

He turned and looked at you, a little shocked. 

“Um.. are you sure? We just met” 

“I’m sure” you smiled. 

Your smile was going to be the death of him. 

He followed behind you as you walked up the stairs to your apartment and looked away when you put in your code to get inside. Once he stepped inside, the smell of cinnamon hit his nose. He looked around after taking off his shoes and scarf. Your home was cozy and clean, if anyone came here they would feel right at home. 

“You can go sit in the living room, I’ll be right there” you walked into the kitchen. Yunho slowly walked into the living room and sat on your couch. He noticed your bookcase filled with tons of books and CDs, he smiled at it. He also noticed your blank canvas on the counter with an apron with paint stains all over it. 

You walked in with two shot glasses and a case of soju with two beers, setting it on the table. He gulped at the sight and you could feel his nervousness. 

“We don’t have to drink all of it, I just felt lazy to keep walking back and forth” you reassured him, sitting beside him. 

“Okay, sorry it’s been a while since I've been alone with a girl” He regretfully admitted. “I know that sounded pretty lame” 

“Not at all” you shook your head, pouring both shot glasses with soju. You gave him his glass and bumped it with yours, both of you taking the shot together. 

“You live alone?”

“Yeah I can’t do the whole roommate thing” 

“Lucky,” he chuckled. 

“You have one?”

“Mhm, my best friend Mingi. We met back in middle school and wouldn’t trade him for the world but sometimes he can be a bit much” 

“Can’t all best friends be?” you both laughed at that. 

Your laugh was like a hidden melody that he wanted to keep hearing. Seeing you smile was something he hoped he got to see you do more if this night turned out on a good note and he left here as your friend because he knew you needed one. 

“Do you have a best friend?” He asked but by the look on your face after you let the question settle and honestly thought he shouldn’t have asked. 

“No, I was always a loner and people who became my friend only used me in the end” You took another shot and sipped some beer with it, looking out your window. Yunho looked at another shot also and sighed a little. 

“We have to make new memories in your life here” 

“We?” you looked at him. 

“You know?” He blushed a little. “We could be friends and I could introduce you to some of my friends, they are bit annoying but they grow on you I promise” 

He was very cute to you, rambling. You don’t know if you could possibly get close to other people again. All the trust in you was almost gone and never to return. Your family betrayed you, the man you thought you would marry someday made you feel worthless, and all the fake friends who didn’t care if you were alive or not. 

“I don’t know, I probably wouldn’t fit in and my lack of trust might cause me to be distant” 

“You can trust us”

You stared at him and he stared at you. You know you never really took in how tall and handsome he was, he really looked like he could be in someone's magazine. His broad shoulders and long legs, his big brown eyes, his lips that looked so soft to the touch, and his hands…. Wow he had huge hands. 

“Yunho?”

“Mm?”

“Have you ever felt lonely?” 

“All the time” He crossed his arms. 

“When did it start?” 

“Mm, probably not till I hit college. My relationship with my parents was a little rocky but we got along till I hit college then it felt like we started talking less but I didn’t really have much to say anymore… I think that’s why I had a few flings in college to help me cope a bit with being lonely. I tried to go on dates, I just couldn’t feel anything or no one really seemed worth dealing with” 

Emotional and situational loneliness is what Yunho felt and you were also the same. Maybe him finding you sobbing your eyes out wasn’t such a bad outcome because you were still in presence, soaking it in. He poured another shot and downed it right away like it took him a lot to even express that to you. Yunho wasn’t one to open up to people too quick but you made him.. comfortable. 

“How about you?” He asked, hesitantly. 

You sipped some of your beer and told him about your ex-boyfriend plus the relationship with your family. He listened carefully and every detail made him feel sad because you don’t deserve how lonely you are. You felt like he was going to say he was sorry but you didn’t want to hear any more sorrys from him because nothing is his fault for how you were. 

“I do have a question”

“Mm?” you raised an eyebrow. 

“If your trust is so low, why did you invite me in?” 

You blinked at him then looked down, starting to blush. With the amount of alcohol you were consuming you felt you couldn’t hide anything but you also were embarrassed that you craved him so much that you invited him in on impulse. You took another shot and hissed at the small burn. 

“I just find you.. interesting, also you sat with me so this is just like me repaying you” 

“Mm, okay” He finally opened his beer, taking a gulp. 

You didn’t know why you felt so warm like yes it was somewhat the alcohol but also the way Yunho kept looking at you with low lid eyes even though it was just from the shots made you feel some type of way. 

You really really wanted to kiss him. 

“You can,” he said. 

“Huh?” 

“You said you wanted to kiss me” He chuckled. 

“I-I didn’t mean to” you felt the blush start to creep up everywhere. 

“So you don’t want to?” He moved a little closer. 

You looked at him and he was so much closer than you anticipated that you could smell the mint mixed with soju and beer on his breath. You looked at his lips then back to his eyes, his hand found your cheek and rubbed it. With slight hesitation, you leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed back, letting out a sigh like he had been waiting for this and you could help but smile into it. His tongue poked your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, letting him in. His tongue explored every corner, rolling onto your tongue. You moaned a bit, gripping the couch trying to ground yourself. 

“You can touch me,” he said against your lips, pecking them repeatedly and voice just a bit deeper. It made your core feel even hotter and you could feel yourself getting wetter. 

“Yunho” You whined a bit as he kept kissing you. 

“Yes, pretty?” 

“I need more” He pulled away slightly, looking at you. His eyes were filled with lust and…desire maybe. It was like you were the only thing that mattered to him right here at this moment. 

Honestly after tonight, Yunho doesn’t know if he can let you go. 

He pulled you on his lap and you straddled him with knees on both sides. He gripped your hips as you pushed your lips back on his. Yunho had never been this forward but it was something about you, he wanted to show you that you deserve happiness and to be loved on even if it’s just for tonight. 

Even if you wake up tomorrow to the snow higher than it was today and decide you don’t want to be around him anymore, at least he was able to show you for the night that you are desired. 

You pulled away to take off your hoodie and shirt to come off with it, that left you in a black lace bra that made Yunho’s dick twitch. You unhooked your bra, letting your boobs fall and he immediately took a nipple in his mouth, worshipping while pulling on the other. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, it had been a long time since you been touched like this so you were super sensitive everywhere. He licked around your nipple, trailing up to your neck. 

Sucking.

Biting. 

You rolled your hips down on his lap and it made him groan softly. You were driving him mad and he wanted to take his time with you but he didn’t know how long he could keep going without him being inside of you. You pushed him back a little, climbing down and spreading his knees apart. 

“Oh fuck” He said in a whisper. This sight of you was making his head spin. You slowly unbuttoned his dress pants and pulled them down along with his boxers. Your eyes widened at his size, he was the biggest you ever seen. 

“You can handle it, right pretty girl?” 

You blushed at that, nodding. You softly held his dick with both hands because he was super thick and slowly started to pump. His reaction made your arousal even higher, you took him in your mouth as much as you could. He let out a low groan and his hand resting on the back of your head as you kept bobbing up and down. 

“Oh f-fuck” His eyes rolled back a bit before he looked at you. You looked up at him as you stunk down, taking him deeper but trying to make sure you don’t gag. His hand gripped your hair a little as he trembled, you could tell he was reaching his point but you didn’t want him to cum just yet, not from this. You pulled off, stroking him and he let out a small whine. 

“W-Why?”

“I would prefer it better if you cum while inside me” you smiled innocently at him. 

Yunho groaned lowly, standing up and picking you up bridal style. You blushed a bit and was a little shook from him manhandling you but you pointed to your room. He kissed you while walking to your room, opening the door slowly so he wouldn’t drop you. He laid you on your back on your queen sized bed. You sat up on your elbows as he took off his button up and you started to drool a little at the sight of his toned stomach and his broad shoulders. 

And my god you couldn't wait for his large hands to touch you again.

Yunho was always a little self conscious about his body because he wasn’t that muscular and didn’t have abs but the way you were looking at him, he knew that didn’t matter to you. He laid in between your legs after kicking off his pants and boxers, he kissed you deeply and his fingers made their way down to your sweatpants. 

“Is this okay?” He said against your lips. You nodded and he kissed down your chest to your stomach as he pulled down your sweats along with your panties. He threw them on the floor and moved down, kissing your pelvic bone before making eye contact with your wet lips. He moaned at the sight and you spreaded out your thighs more to give him more room, your gesture made him want to combust. 

“You’re so wet” he ran his finger down your folds then looked at you. “All of this for me?”

“All of it,” you nodded. 

Yunho smirked at that a little, testing the waters and pushing one finger inside of you. You gasped and threw your head back against the pillow. Yunho’s finger was long and kind of thick so it stretched you out a little and he immediately found the spongy spot inside of you. His mouth found your clit, licking it up and down while pushing another finger in. 

“Oh god, Y-Yunho” you moaned loudly. He hummed, the vibration going straight to your clit. He pumped his fingers a little faster and harder, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. You felt that tight knot in your stomach and it was ready to let go. He pulled his fingers out and licked over your pussy one time before moving back and kissing you, making you taste yourself. You moaned a little and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

Yunho grabbed his dick, pumping it a little before sliding it in between your folds to lubricate it. You moaned at the feeling and squirmed a little when his tip would bump into your clit. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asked. 

“A little too late to be hesitant considering how far we have come Yunho” you giggled at him. 

“I-I know. I mostly talking about the no condom part” 

“I’m on a pill and clean, I’m okay with it” you reassured him, pecking his lips. 

He nodded and slowly pushed into you, knocking the air out of your lungs as he filled you up. He moans as he continues, finally bottoming out. He paused so you could adjust to his size, he didn’t want to hurt you by any means. 

“Y-You can move”

He pulled out till his tip was just in and pushed back in a little harder. You let out a little scream at that and gripped his back, he moved at a slow yet deep pace. You could feel all the ridges and veins on his dick and it just made you wetter. 

“God you’re so perfect. Taking me so well like a good girl” He said in your ear. 

“Y-Yunho” you whimpered. 

“What? You like when I tell you how good you are for me, pretty girl?” He licked your ear, moving at a faster pace. 

So pretty. 

So perfect. 

You deserved to be loved like this all the time. 

His words were making you close to the edge but also close to crying. Your ex never talked you through it like this, he never made you feel wanted like this. You felt the tears start to spill over and Yunho looked at you with concern, he started to slow down his pace.

“N-No, keep going” you gripped his back. “Please, I need it I need you Y-Yunho”

“You got me baby” He moved deeper and harder. 

“God you’re so deep” you moaned. You felt that band snap in you and your orgasm crushed into you like a tidal wave. Yunho kissed you through, lifting your leg around his hip to push deeper. The overstimulation immediately kicked in and you loved it. 

“F-Fuck” 

“Can you give me one more pretty? I’m so close I need you clench around my dick like that one more time” 

He started to pump faster into you and you could feel all of him in your guts, it made you whimper and claw at his back but it felt so damn good that your second orgasm was creeping up faster than you anticipated. 

“Y-Yunho” 

“I got you, let go baby. You deserve this beautiful” He kissed your temple as you let go for the second time and he followed behind, stilling in you then moving a bit to carry you through both your highs. He was about to pull out till you locked your other leg around his waist. 

“Hold me for a while please” you buried your head in his neck. He smiled a little and nodded, repositioning you both so he didn’t slip out of you but you were now laying on his chest as he laid on his back. 

The birds chirping and sunlight coming through your window woke you up. You groaned and stretched your body out, you tried to feel for Yunho but just felt the coldness of the sheets. You set up in a panic and noticed you were in a large t-shirt and you didn’t feel sticky. 

You got out of your bed and walked into the living room, there was no sign of him and his stuff was gone. You sighed and sat on your couch, you knew it was all too good to be true.

You turned your head to the door as you heard a code being put in and the door opened up with Yunho holding a tray with two coffees and a bag of food. You teared up a little bit as he walked over after slipping off his shoes. 

“Are you okay?” He quickly put the food and drinks down, pulling you into a hug. 

“I thought you just up and left me” you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“Never pretty” He rubbed your head and you looked up at him. He flashed you a smile then pecked your lips. 

“Don’t scare me like that” You punched him playfully. He chuckled and sat down beside you, handing you a coffee. 

“Sorry I didn’t want to wake you up but I ran back to my place to change clothes then I thought you might be hungry once I got back. I should have left a note” 

“It’s okay, the coffee saved you” you sipped some more. He laughed and pulled out an egg and cheese breakfast sandwich and handed it to you. 

“So does that mean you want to see me more?” He asked. 

“Yeah” you blushed. “Do you want to see me more?”

“I don’t think I can ever let you go Y/N” 

Who knew someone like him would want someone like you in this cold winter? 

[hamzahsbaby]

ok so for the angst maybe like a fake rumor gets out that hamzahs cheating on reader and then reader starts to believe it and ends things without his explanation and then they meet a few months later and lots of arguing and stuff idk what else but yeh sorry this is all i can explain 😭🙏

warnings/notes: angst! hamzah lowk kinda mean at first, but he redeems himself, happy ending cause i need y/n happy ^_^ i give absolutely no explanation to the rumor …

"are you really going to believe some stupid fucking rumor you heard online?" hamzah threw his hands in the air, you'd never seen him this upset before. "like," he rubbed his forehead, pacing in front of you as you sat at his kitchen table. "seriously?"

"well you weren't doing anything to stop it from spreading!" you snapped, your voice shaky from adrenaline. you and hamzah had been going at it for a good 15 minutes now, neither of you wanting to back down. "you didn't fucking care that it upset me!" you felt a warm tear roll down your cheek, your body replaying exactly how you felt the first time you and hamzah had this argument, except that time you ended things and left without any explanation.

now, a few months later you were back in his kitchen, everything was the same, but maybe a but messier, you weren't exactly sure. red and blue even greeted you at the door when you came in, they missed you sneakily giving them treats whenever hamzah wasn't looking, or giving them endless cuddles after hamzah would push them away for the night.

"was i supposed to dedicate a whole video to some stupid rumor made about me? is that what you wanted?" his yells were even louder and more condescending. you rolled your eyes, "there's no sense in even talking to you if you're not going to hear me out." you got up from the kitchen chair, grabbing your keys from the table. "i knew it was fucking stupid coming over here." you made your way towards the front door, jaw clenched, tears falling down your face, heartbroken for a second time, but still you desperately wanted hamzah to stop you from walking out that door. so desperately.

"wait." his voice was much softer this time around. "i'm sorry." he grabbed your wrist. "i'm sorry okay?" his fingers gently unwrapped themselves from around your wrist. that was the first time he'd touched you in months. it was the kind of touch that screamed 'please don't leave' without having to say it.

"i should have done more, you're right." hamzah leaned against the counter, running his fingers through his hair. "i was just upset," he sighed, tears welting up in his eyes, now he was the one reliving his emotions. "you up and left like i didn't mean anything to you. like all of this was for nothing." his voice cracked, mentally going back to the day you decided you were done, no note, no text, no call, just gone. but you still lingered in his apartment; your smell on his pillows, your hair ties all over the place, and even that stupid cracked mug you insisted on keeping because 'it deserved a home too'. it was all still there. so while you got to leave and move on, he didn't.

"do you think i just never thought of you or something?" you sighed, "you're all i thought- you're all i think about." you corrected yourself. "and you didn't even reach out." another tear fell, this time hamzah wiped it before you could do it yourself, his hands were sweaty and clammy. "well you didn't exactly leave room to do that." hamzah nervously played with his curls. "well you could have tried." anger started stirring up in your stomach again. "you could have done something."

"i didn't know how." he admitted, his voice was soft. "i've never loved someone the way i love you. i didn't want to ruin us completely." his eyes were glossed over, he looked so desperate and innocent. "do you still love me?" he asked.

"i never stopped hamzah."

[syn0vial]

i appreciate that in the boba fett expanded universe canon, we have multiple moments from multiple authors that boil down to "despite his reputation/appearance, boba fett is not fearless, and is in fact doing his level best right now to walk calmly away from this objectively terrifying situation rather than breaking into a fucking sprint in the opposite direction"

[defilerwyrm]

There’s this guy in town who owns this little house, and a while back he rescued a street dog that was going to get put down. Turned out she was pregnant.

Problem is, he has mental health & drug issues and couldn’t afford to get them all spayed & neutered, so now there are 6 grown bitches with 15 puppies total, and they’ve dug under his fence in multiple places but he can’t afford to fix it so they go roaming all around town. (When I say can’t afford it, I mean his house is currently running on a generator because he can’t afford his electric bill.) He’s also a day laborer so he cannot take multiple full days off work to take them to the vet an hour away. He’s in a really rough spot.

He’s not a bad person. He’s just overwhelmed.

And this little conservative town with 6 churches for 300 people, have they tried to help their neighbor? Have they adopted the puppies he’s been trying to give away? Have they offered resources?

NOPE! All they wanna do is talk shit about him and complain about the dogs but never lift a finger of their own. And they come to his house to yell at him and cuss him out about the dogs, which does not exactly engender in him a cooperative attitude, as you might imagine.

So after a while of this going on, my mom gets fed up with all the NIMBY bullshit and starts talking to the guy, because she’s done animal rescue for 20-odd years and has Connections. He’s resistant at first, but when he realizes she’s not being an asshole to him on account of his addiction or the dogs, he decides to let her help.

She gets to work organizing and networking. Finds a non-profit that will cover vaccinations, spay/neuter, and flea treatments for all the dogs. Talks the next-door neighbor into paying for materials to fix the fence, since this guy can do the work of it himself. Gets him in touch with another non-profit that will adopt out the adult dogs.

Less than 2 weeks after she decided to do something, all puppies have been to the vet, 10 puppies and 4 adult dogs have been adopted out, and the second non-profit is coming by next week to pick up the remaining 7 dogs to ship them out for adoption.

I’ve learned a lot of things from my mom—some good, some bad—but I think the most important positive message she lives as an example of is this: sometimes, when something needs done and no one else is willing, you gotta stand up and say “I’ll do it.”

[discountdyke]

im exhausted and im feeling whiny

[dolcekissy]

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes mentions of sex, fingering, oral, and yeah.

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rafe being obsessed with his best friend would definitely consist of him basically fighting demons the entire time he's with you. poor baby just wants to fuck you sooo bad :(

sucking on a lollipop? his dick is hard the moment you started pulling the wrapper off the lollipop. sitting in his bed with him while scrolling on instagram? his dick is hard the moment you sat on his bed.

definitely fantasizes about the time you finally do let him hit. he's not gonna be a weirdo and beg ─ have you seen him? he's not one to beg for pussy, he'll make mfs work for his dick imo.

rafe would definitely want you to go everywhere with him ─ to the point if someone sees rafe out somewhere ─ you're definitely somewhere trailing behind him.

golfing with top? you're there. running errands? you're there. at a party? you're there. you're always there with him.

"do i really need to go get gas with you?" rafe nods his head, grabbing your arm and his keys as he shoves you into the passenger side and shuts the door. "it takes two seconds to pump your gas and go back home... what am i going fo─"

"shut up."

rafe would definitely be up your ass too ─ he's with you 24/7 too. you don't mind it but sometimes he does a little too much, like when he follows you to the bathroom when you have to pee or when he'll check your location and see your at the store ─ he'll just pop up out of nowhere.

"fuck! you scared me! how did you know i was here?" your eyes are wide ─ your hand resting over your chest to calm yourself as he looks at everything in your cart.

or when you're taking a shower, poor boy just can't leave you alone.

"rafe. i'm taking a fucking shower, get out!" you yell as he patiently sits on the toilet seat ─ your towel and clothes sitting in his lap as his foot taps against the floor, completely ignoring what you were saying as he starts talking about something random.

he lowkey just wants to take a peek at your naked body too.

wait whaaat, who said that?

rafe cant sleep without you ─ so if you're out late, your parents know your sleeping at rafes.

half the time he's trying to calm himself down because he's hard as fuck seeing you in a tank top and pink, satin shorts. he's mentally fanning himself with his hands as you back your body up into his ─ praying you don't feel his hard on.

turning the other way immediately, his back facing yours the second your ass presses up against him. "hmm, m'just gonna face this way ─" he says it so awkwardly too, leaving you confused but also you couldn't give a fuck less.

rafe would be over the moon the second you let him hit. i wanna say he'd cum so fast like a teenage boy but i feel like he would also wanna savor the moment.

he'd take it so serious, finger fucking you, eating you out, kissing and licking your tits ─ literally everything. then he'd fuck you sooo good �� just so you know this is what you've been missing out on this whole time.

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[cloudcountry]

since you guys liked my idea so much here it is: WAYS THE NRC BOYS WOULD MAKE YOU WORSE

reader's personality is based more off of in-game yuu than anything? this set of hcs is a bunch of hypotheticals basically. this can be read as platonic or romantic idk each guy is written as if they are the closest person to you, friends or otherwise.

IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT

mentally preparing myself for the "i wouldnt do that!!!!!" comments...and post.

Riddle increases your attentiveness to the rules tenfold. No matter how meek you are, he makes your voice strong—and oh boy does it carry. You’re yelling at people for running in the halls, chastising them for not doing their homework, and opening your mouth wider when you speak. For a school full of troublemakers like Night Raven, the entire student body is so disappointed there’s another Riddle.

Trey makes you more passive, less likely to speak up when you see something. He’s always stood back in the shadows, watching over everything without saying a word, and it’s seeped into your personality, too. You’re spineless now. This world is unfamiliar, why should you try to do anything? You’d only stand out. You don’t want to be outstanding. You want to be as normal as possible. So you stand back.

Cater gets you wrapped up in the hype of social media. It started out as a way to indulge his interests but now you’re on Magicam all day, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. You send things to your friends and say “hey, we should do this” but never make any actual effort to connect with them outside of that. You fall easier into jealousy because you’re surrounded by glamor.

Deuce makes you reckless. He’s so willing to throw himself into things and it spurs you to do the same, no matter how many times your teachers or potential upperclassmen tell you not to. You can’t hear anything but Deuce and his yelling, his enthusiasm and terror for whichever situation you two find yourselves in, knowing that you’d follow him anywhere.

Ace makes you all the more prickly, your sharp jabs and irritating smugness a product of spending too much time with him. You two are two peas in a pod, but to an outsider you two just seem...irritating. You have a talent for getting under people’s skin and have definitely gotten better at lying.

Leona thinks its so cute how you try to defend him at every twist and turn. Like no, he is as dastardly as everyone is saying. Why are you trying to deny it? You’re suddenly seeing reason in the most massive ego-ed people this side of Sage Island and Leona honestly doesn’t know if he should be concerned for you or be amused because of you. (This one in particular was inspired by @loser-jpg LMAO)

Ruggie could have made you prioritize yourself more, but you think he took it a bit too far. See, now you’re snatching cafeteria items and worksheets right under people’s noses, giggling as they demand you give it back. Sometimes they don’t even notice you, but even if they did you’ve learned how to be lighter on your feet.

Jack and you are incredibly uncooperative people (unless you owe someone, of course.) He’s guided you away from asking for help, insisting that the people here will take advantage of you then turning around to say that he doesn’t care, he just doesn't want to get wrapped up in your mess. It’s like you can’t trust anyone but him and your Heartslabyul friends anymore.

Azul has given you one nasty sense of perception, allowing you to key into every little detail and find loopholes in the things people say in a second. He’s turned you into a deadly asset, one he treasures just as much as the student body fears. You read over his contracts and point out what you would do to get out of them, and he adjusts accordingly. What a fine team you two make!

Jade makes it clear that his morals are less than savory, and will often encourage you to partake in things you really shouldn't. You rationalize it as Jade helping you go after the things you want, to finally take and take and take from people when you’ve been so selfless all your life, because it's what you deserve isn’t it?

Floyd will often rope you into his schemes, and it's not wrong before you start doing the same. Once a model student, attending every class, you now skip class and watch with amusement as Floyd threatens another student, hiding your smile behind your hand. They may plead for your assistance, but who are you to stop Floyd? This poor soul clearly owed something.

Kalim instills you with a sense of jealousy and helplessness. He has money to solve all of his problems, his life must be so easy. You’ve lived through so many overblots and received no help from anyone, but Kalim has always been so kind and generous to you. It makes you resent him a little, and anyone else who tries to help, because they all have things that you don’t and that's just not fair.

Jamil twists and bends your mind so much that you can do the very same thing to others. You’ve caught onto his little game and he knows it, eyeing you with anticipation whenever you speak in the same honeyed tone he uses when he wants something. You’ve gotten scarily good at hiding it too, shooting him a smug grin because you know he knows, but nobody else does.

Vil brings out so much confidence in your abilities it’s borderline arrogance. You know you’re capable, so why doesn’t everyone just let you handle this? You can do it, they can’t. So they should just step aside. You’re not doing it to be mean, so why are they getting so annoyed at you? You’re just better.

Rook has some eccentricities, and you’re well aware of them. They put you off at first, but now you’re used to him. It just seems normal now. You’re not sure why everyone makes such a big deal out of his tendencies, that’s just how he is. He’ll stalk you, hunt you down, but he’s having fun! Don’t spoil it for him!

Epel is actually the perfect fit for NRC, you think. He’s a troublemaker, he’s stubborn, and he’s so, so angry. But he’s right! Why should you respect people who claim to be above you? It’s so irritating that they walk around with those annoying smirks on their faces. You two should do something about that, don’t you think?

Idia has a very specific way of talking that can not only be confusing, but can also irritate the hell out of people. Of all things you could pick up from him, you picked up his smug jabs and insults, accompanied by a tooth grin and a laugh. It’s unnerving how much he’s rubbed off on you, a true testament to how close you too are much to the chagrin of the rest of NRC.

Malleus finds so much delight in being your bodyguard, your most trusted companion, that he doesn’t even bat an eye when you use his magic for your own gain. You’ve gotten soft, molding to whatever shape Malleus wants you to be just so he won’t leave. You’re helpless without him, only he has the will and the magic to protect you. So won’t he please stay?

Lilia has a way of dodging the truth, putting a smile on his face even when he’s hurting. It makes you think that, if he can do that, why can’t you? Lilia is smart, he knows how to go about life, so you should follow his lead and bury your problems until they’ll never see the light again.

Sebek has done nothing but berate you for being human since you met him, and even if you’ve gotten closer to him over the course of your stay in Twisted Wonderland, you’re starting to think he’s right. If you had magic, if you weren’t human, you’d be more powerful. It’s a fact. You could do so much more if you weren’t so weak.

Silver has made you complacent. He takes each step carefully, protecting both you and Malleus, so why would you need to protect yourself in any capacity? It’s so nice, having this safety net. If you could, you'd rely on Silver forever, never facing the cruel realities of the world that are blocked by his strong arms.

[murderofravens]

THIEF

pairing: the salesman x fem!reader

summary: he looked harmless enough. you should've known you were stealing from the wrong man.

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON CON ELEMENTS but no actual smut, father issues, talks of abusive past (reader ran away from home) physical and verbal abuse, slapping, hitting and all that. age gap because of course, its my fic afterall. he's fucked up. that's it. read at your own risk.

A/N: shoutout to @muntitled for her incredible salesman fics and for inspiring me to start writing again. you're awesome.

prequel to VIOLATE

MASTERLIST

the station seems colder today. your eyes twitch as you look around, analysing the people waiting for their next train. a woman sitting on a bench, reading. a few college students who probably are in more debt than you. a homeless man mumbling incoherently to himself while trying to light a match. a group of teenage boys laughing at something on their phone— you make a mental note to stay away from that side, for the sake of your own safety. the lightbulb flickers as you take a seat on the dirty floor, contemplating your options. that woman looks a good enough target— but with the layers of clothes she's got on, you don't believe you'll have any luck with her.

you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. you don't look up, merely focusing your gaze on the floor and pretending to be lost in thought. you've learned it's much easier to get away with pickpocketing if you don't immediately look at the person you're stealing from. something about not looking suspicious. a pair of shiny dress shoes stand by the train tracks— and you allow your gaze to trail up, up, up. this man has some long legs, you think to yourself. a crisp, stoney gray suit, and broad shoulders. a briefcase in hand and a seemingly innocent gaze looking around.

someone financially stable, judging by the expensive watch on his wrist. on first glance, you decide he looks like the kind of man who would be too tired or bored to run after you if he caught you in the act.

he'll be paying for your dinners for atleast a week.

as you stand up casually, you spot your target put on a charming smile and walk over to where the homeless man is warming his hands. you can't hear the conversation because the man's back is turned to you, but you can tell he is trying to advertise something to him. he opens his briefcase, and you catch sight of bundles of cash in it. you feel your heartbeat immediately picking up. your body feels warmer now; imagining a bright future for yourself if you managed to get a hand on the briefcase.

you don't bother eavesdropping in the conversation, you have other priorities. luckily, the woman on the bench was reading with her legs spread forward. you take the opportunity and stumble over her feet, losing your footing and falling forward with a loud cry— crashing right into your target who stumbles forward onto the homeless guy who lets out a string of curses.

"watch where you're fucking going!" he yells, and you're sure the woman behind you called you a fucking nutjob as well.

apologizing profusely, you put on your best sheepish expression and pat your target's back, helping him up. he looks at you strangely, giving you a tight lipped smile, and when you slip out his wallet from his back pocket, he doesn't seem to notice. before you can get a hand on the briefcase, he tugs it back and guides it towards the homeless man, engaging in another conversation with him. you're quick to walk away without another glance, swearing to yourself on your missed opportunity. but you suppose a wallet is better than nothing.

the first thing you do is run out and aim towards a crowded area you can disappear into. you open the wallet and pull out some cash— no identification, no credit cards. just a simple paper card with some symbols on it. it makes you wince. you thought with atleast an address or a name, you could've robbed him, but the universe seems to fucking hate you.

you eat some noodles from a street vendor. it's one of your favourites. in moments like these, you miss home. but you figure that having to steal and feed yourself is better than always having to walk on eggshells around your father— wondering when the next hit might come. or what other aspect of you would he decide to fixate on till you start hating yourself. you were tired of that life. this is okay, you'll deal with it.

it's when you're walking back to that rusty apartment you've started calling home that you feel a strange, prickling sensation on your back. so far, you always wondered if what people said was true— that you can tell when you're being watched. right now, you can feel it— this strange, unsettling fear that something is following you. you abruptly look behind, but there's no one there. you consider taking a short cut— but decide it's the stupidest thing you could do, so you just run home as fast as you can and hope whoever it is, doesn't catch you.

you feel victorious as you open the door to your place. as you step inside, something kicks you in the back of your knees and you yelp before falling forward, right on your face.

"what the fuck!?" you shriek breathlessly, scared out of your mind as you lean on your elbows and try to sit up. there's a haunting shadow blocking your doorway, and you can feel your heart begin to pound nervously as you spot the man from the station.

"you look at home down there," he says calmly, accent heavy in his voice. "rightful place for a thief like you."

your voice is stuck in your throat— eyes wide as you let out sharp, heavy breaths. does he know? how long has he been following you? did he involve the police? what is he going to do?

"listen, man." you start shakily, sitting up, "i don't know what you're talking about—"

as you try to stand again, his foot comes up and collides with your shoulder, sending you to the floor again, "fuck!—"

he doesn't let you up as you lay against the floor, his shoe painfully digging into your collarbone, "not only did you sabotage my job tonight, but you also stole from me. i don't like thieves—"

"i hadn't eaten in days!" you cry out, a hand coming up to grab onto his leg, eyes pleading with him to have some sympathy. you really try. "i'll— i can pay you back—"

"by stealing from someone else?" he asks, amused.

"no! god—" you let out a choked breath. you're scared out of your damn mind, it's obvious, but more so because the violence and humiliation you're facing now is what you ran away from home to avoid. you don't want this man to violate you. you're tired of being scared. "i can— i can do a job! anything! ill work for you or- or— i'm sorry, please—"

the man takes joy in your cries, it's obvious in the amusement in his eyes. he's enjoying the way you stumble over your words and make a fool of yourself. but after a moment of begging, he pulls his leg back and gives you a moment to breathe. you sit up, choking on heavy breaths, holding onto your shoulder.

"let's play a game."

you look up at him with bloodshot eyes— barely holding back tears. his hand twitches.

you're shaking. this man just had his foot on your shoulder, and he wants to play a game?

when he doesn't get a response from you, he continues, "it's called ddakji. if you win, i'll give you cash." he opens the briefcase, smiles sinisterly as your eyes land on the object of your desires. "i saw you watching it, back at the station. such a shame your little plan didn't work, no?"

you grit your teeth, looking away from his taunting eyes. "and if i lose?"

"then i get to slap you."

your head snaps up— breathing getting heavy again. is this really what your life has come to? is it really worth it? you're back to square one— perhaps, you could leave your home, but the violence will always follow. the realization of your fate has a tear rolling down your cheek. you really try to sound tough when you gather the courage to speak again. "and why would i do that?"

"because you're desperate," he says calmly, leaning forward to brush the tear away with his thumb. the action has your heart fluttering for just a moment— many men have made you cry, but not one of them have ever wiped the tears. it's stupid. he quirks an eyebrow, settling you with a blank stare that shakes you to your core. "what have you got to lose, anyway?"

he's right, you think. would you rather take a few slaps and then live your life independently? or would you choose to live in fear about when you'd be on the receiving end of your father's wrath again?

you choose the former.

he explains the concept of the game and you get to choose the color of your tile— you pick the red one because it's your favourite color. with as much strength as you can, you try to flip his tile, but it merely jumps and then lands back like it was. it sends your heart plummeting down your stomach.

you know well what's coming next— it's all you've ever known your whole life. you flinch as his hand raises, but he stops midway. you tremble violently, eyeing his palm nervously. he eyes you curiously for a while, before another twisted smile appears on his face.

"you ever get hit before?" he asks, voice taunting. you swallow hard. "boyfriend?" he pushes his hand closer, making you flinch again. "ah, i know— father."

before you can snap at him, his hand collides with your cheek, making you let out a sharp cry. your face twists to the side and you take a deep breath— try to console yourself. it's just a game. he's not doing it out of malice. false promises.

you bite down on your lower lip to avoid calling him a fucking dickhead and telling him to rot.

he just smiles as he goes next. you pray to the gods he doesn't flip your tile— and thankfully, he doesn't. it makes you sigh in relief as he tosses a bundle of cash at your feet. you bend down to pick it up, "oh my god, thank you, thank you—"

he tsks, shaking his head, "game isn't over."

you go another round, and you win. you cheer heartily as you get another bundle of the cash tossed at your feet— and he sighs to himself. suddenly this game seems better.

you try to use your previous technique to flip his tile, and it doesn't work. it earns you another slap. it doesn't get better— you get as many slaps as you do cash. tears roll down your sore cheeks— they're heated and they hurt. you feel faint. only you know how much strength it takes to keep standing. you're sure your face will bruise tomorrow. he doesn't stop until you have half the cash from his briefcase. you can't hold back your sobs— you don't know what you're crying for. the cash, or the slaps? both, perhaps.

"you did good," he says, stepping forward and invading your personal space. his hands are warm as he cups your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears. you try to pull your face away, but one warning glare from him has you frozen in place. "look on the bright side, you decided to steal from me today and you earned some money. even if it came with a little beating. but you took it like a good girl, didn't you?"

his words should have you convulsing. you should be kicking him in the balls and hitting him with the nearest object you can find— but you're hypnotized— caught in a trance by his words of praise. against your better judgement, you nod, before shamefully averting your gaze.

he smiles tightly and steps away. adjusts the buttons of his suit jacket and looks around before going to the couch and sitting down. "why don't you go fetch me a glass of water?" he stretches his arms, shoots a provocative smile your way. "all this exercise has me feeling thirsty."

you want to tell him to shove his exercise up your ass and leave, but you decide to do as he said. you're in no position to threaten him. he's much stronger than you, and judging by everything else, much older as well. men like him are not easy to fool. and you really don't want to get hit again.

as you pour him a glass of water, you eye his briefcase again. if you could somehow manage to perhaps weaken him for just a moment— you could get all the cash and maybe run away. you would spike his water but you don't have any drugs. you have to do this the hard way. you pocket a fork and then head back to deliver him his water.

as he drinks, you kneel by his feet, gathering your cash. carefully, you pull out the fork, and with as much strength as you can, slam it down onto the side of his foot.

"you little bitch—" he groans loudly, wincing and throwing his head back and clenching his jaw before splashing the water from the glass on your face. it makes you squeal. before you can attack again, he pulls the fork out and tosses it to the side. your eyes widen and you rush to get it, but he sticks his leg out and you trip and fall on your face again.

a crunchy sound emerges as he steps on your wrist, his shoe digging into the delicate appendage. you let out a shrill cry.

"the one thing i hate more than thieves—" he snickers, looking down at you like you're an insect. he scoffs, twisting his shoe harder, making you choke on a sob, "is a little girl who thinks she's smarter than me."

"fuck you!" you sob, squirming on the ground, "let me go!"

"watch your language with me." he hisses back, narrowing his eyes. he glares before releasing a breathy chuckle, "you are the stupidest girl i have ever met. you were doing so well too. did you really think you could overpower me?"

"you hit me—" you sniffle, groaning in pain as you attempts to yank your hand back, "you hit me and you—"

he interrupts with a taunt, "maybe if you tried acting so smartly with your father, you wouldn't have had to run away from home."

you gasp before letting out another pained whimper, "how did you—"

"it's written on your face." he sighs, exasperated. like he's dealing with a toddler, not a girl who stabbed his leg. "if i let go of your hand, do you promise not to get hostile again?"

you glare at him silently through teary eyes.

"do i have your word?" he says louder, twisting his foot again.

"yes, yes—" you yelp, and with careful thought, he steps back. before you can make a move, he leans down to grab your hair and yanks you up. it makes you hiss in pain. he shoves you towards the couch.

"all this fighting has made me excited," he remarks with a chuckle, crowding you in. your eyes widen and you crawl away from him to the farthest end of the couch. he follows you like a predator, palming the front of his pants, and the realization of whats to follow makes you shake your head, "no- no, please, god—"

"shut the fuck up," he snaps strictly, voice eerily composed. he grabs your head, looks down at you with those black, empty eyes, his free hand carelessly unbuckling his belt. "you didn't think i'd let your little stunt go unpunished, did you?"

"you can do anything else—" you choke out, shaking her head. he yanks your face forward, makes your cheek press against the tent in his pants. you can smell him. you desperately try to latch onto any semblance of comfort you can find. "anything— anything but this, you can even slap me again—"

"hitting you is no fun if you're asking for it," he replies boredly, tugging your head back just enough so your teary eyes blink up at him pathetically. "i want to really rub it in this time. what happens when you mess with men like me."

you want to fight more— you wish you could. you desperately want to, but you feel frozen with shock. this day has turned into a nightmare you couldn't imagine even in the worst possible time. it's like everything you have done till now to avoid horrible, violent men, is laughing at your failure. you blink a few times, as if trying to wake yourself up.

"i've never done this before," your voice cracks as you voice your last attempt at begging for mercy— does he not have a heart?

he pauses and eyes you for a moment, and for a millisecond you think he'll reconsider. but then his mouth twitches, and your heart breaks as soon he pulls his pants down.

"even better."

A/N: this was more psychological and self indulgent that i expected, lol. i'm still not very well versed with smut, so i thought i might put this out before i try. feedback is always appreciated. i love him so much even though he's horrible. i guess that's what them father issues do.

[nosyp]

Twst Second Years reacting to someone else calling you 'honey' or 'sweetheart'

First years | Third years

A/N = WOOOHOOOO I'm actually continuing it, pls like share comment n subscribe y'all!1!!11!

Riddle Rosehearts

He stops mid-motion, his eyes narrowing sharply at the person.

“Excuse me? I believe you’ve forgotten your manners.” he says as he crosses his arms, stepping in front of you like a shield.

His voice is firm but icy, “They’re not yours to address so casually.”

He’ll fume about it later, pacing and ranting to himself about the audacity. Like "THEY did not deserve to call you by THAT nickname, only I can,"

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie immediately tenses when the sound is processed, body unmoving, but hides it behind a grin.

“Honey? That’s cute, but I think you’ve got the wrong person.” he tells the other person.

Casually drapes his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close.

Might ‘accidentally’ use his connections to make sure that person doesn’t get too comfortable around you.

Azul Ashengrotto

His smile falters for a fraction of a second before he regains his composure.

“Honey? Sweetheart? My, how bold of you to use such familiar terms.”

Steps in with a charming but slightly threatening demeanor.

“You must be unaware that (Y/N) is under my care. Do let me know if I need to clarify further.”

Quietly seethes, thinking about ways to ensure the offender never oversteps again.

Jade Leech

He smiles at the offender, giving a polite and eerie smile, kind of giving the signal to run too.

“Oh? How endearing. Though, I do believe that’s our thing. Right (Y/N)?”

Steps closer to you, his hand resting lightly on your back.

Keeps his calm demeanor, but there’s a promise of subtle revenge in his tone.

Floyd Leech

Immediately frowns, leaning in with an uncomfortably close stare.

“Eh? Honey? Sweetheart? That’s MY nickname for Shrimpy!”

Wraps you up in a possessive hug, grumbling about how annoying the offender is.

Might or might not... escalate to something worse... maybe yelling or maybe chasing the person off if his mood sours.

HEY! At least it's safe to say that guy's probably not gonna ever try anything with you ever again. :)

Kalim Al-Asim

Looks surprised at first, but quickly recovers with a cheerful laugh.

“Oh, (Y/N)’s the sweetest, aren’t they? I’m lucky to have them!”

He then takes your hand or links arms with you to show you’re his.

Feels a little twinge of jealousy but lets it slide because he’s confident in your bond.

Jamil Viper

Freezes for a split second before letting out a low chuckle.

“They must’ve mistaken you for someone else.” he says in disbelief, after all why would someone else call you that?

Later, he'll position himself between you and the offender.

Makes a mental note to remember the person’s face in case they try again.

If they do try again, say bye bye.

Silver

His initial reaction is just to blink in surprise, but then he manages to remains calm.

“Honey? I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm. Maybe it was just an honest mistake.”

Gently shifts closer to you, his protective instincts kicking in.

Though polite, he gives the offender a piercing look, silently warning them to back off.

Later, he might overthink the situation and wonder if he should’ve been more assertive.

A/N = Ngl i feel like some were ooc.... if some are please do tell i'll rewrite. FEEDBACK is appreciated btw!!!

[alexiroflife]

Hello! May I request an angsty toji fic where reader finds out she's pregnant (post megumi) and she knows toji doesn't want anymore children so she just kinda leaves with little to no explanation? Maybe just a small note saying things aren't working out. It's up to you if it will be a hurt/comfort. Idk you don't have to do this request I don't want to overload you! I seriously love your writing. The way you right the character just warms my heart. I especially love ur hiding an Injury fic it was SO SO SO GOOD. 🩶🤍🖤

“promise”

toji fushiguro x reader

Synopsis: see above

to sum it up: you think it’s better to run away than to be the one to get hurt

WC: 5,668

Warning(s): angst, suggestive themes, yelling, pregnancy, mentions of abortion

You stare down at the plastic tube clutched in your trembling hands in awe, eyes blown with shocked grief as you peer closer to get a better look, as though those two bright pink lines could have been a trick of your vision.

Unfortunately, however, your vision remains just as crystal clear as it always has been. As you stand in your cramped apartment bathroom, illuminated by a flickering fluorescent gaze shining down from above, horror befalls you.

You’re pregnant.

You should have known sooner when you began feeling queasy every morning, taking trips to either your or Toji’s toilet to hurl out the contents of whatever swam inside your stomach. You always tried to be silent if Toji was around, for he slept like a dog that could not be woken even if a meteor struck earth, and you had been remarkably exhausted. You aren’t even sure if there is a word to describe how sluggish your entire mind and body had been feeling, but you wanted to rule out the very obvious answer to your problems before exploring it.

You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and every inch of your body you could feel the pulse, eyes blurry over the positive test. You’re conflicted. You don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, you would have been jumping for joy to learn that you are starting a new life with your boyfriend, to step into a new chapter of your lives and to provide his children with another sibling.

But hell, the celebration is far too naive and implausible to be had. The sage eyed man has told you time and time again that he does not wish to have anymore kids, that the ones he has are enough and he is not equipped financially or mentally to care for another brat. In honor of those wishes, you’re on the pill, and consequently, Toji has taken the opportunity to plow his load inside of you time after time after time.

And you really, truly should have known that with Toji’s uniquely abled body, what was meant to serve as a barrier and a means of contraception did not work.

You feel like throwing up. What would Toji say? What would he do? What are you supposed to do? Should you tell him, fill him in on what’s going on to risk rejection and abandonment, a nasty habit that Toji had to work to rid himself of when he met you? Would he even care? Would he listen?

You know Toji to be a very tough man, despite the softened interior he attempts to hide in others’ company that is only displayed for you and for his kids. If he has always been adamant about one thing, it’s been to never have kids again, to focus on where he fucked up before and to pour his attention into the little family he’s grown, the one that he has now.

His voice echoes through your head like the gong of a church bell striking upon the ear’s of a sinner.

“Hell, I already got my hands full tryna get Megumi through his teenage years. What the hell is another child gonna do for us?”

“That shit’s fuckin’ expensive. Not to mention, I’d have to baby proof the house again. That’s another expense.”

“If I was capable of givin’ you y’er own, I would, doll. But I ain’t cut out for it. You know that.”

You don’t even know why he would stress the matter so often. You suppose he’s caught the way your eyes linger on a mother tossing their giggling baby up and down into the air, innocent pools of joy beaming down at her each time it reaches the air and lands in her secure hold. Or maybe he’s seen the way you care so deeply for Toji’s kids as though they are your own, despite telling you when you first got involved with each other that he did not expect you to step into their lives in anyway - and yet, you have done that and more. You know how the kids must struggle each day with the trauma of losing their mother so early on, and you never wanted them to think that you were trying to step in as her replacement, but you love them so clearly, as much as you love the man who created them.

Which leads you to your next concern. How would the kids react?

It’s one thing for you, as their father’s girlfriend, to wander into their lives and help navigate them their teenage hood alongside the dark haired man, but to introduce an entire other child only leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

They may be crushed. They me turn to hate you, to despise how you have contaminated the life they have worked so hard to rebuild after numerous tragedies. And would Toji agree with them? Would he turn his nose up to you, that scowl of his melting over his harsh features as he shuns you just as he shunned every other woman who came after his wife and before you. Would he leave you? Would he kick you out of the world that has become your own because you failed to live up to your promise, though it technically isn’t your fault that you are pregnant now but it feels as though it is?

You can not stand the thought, of the man you love turning his once loving gaze stone upon the sight of you, of him pushing you further away, permanently, in the same manner that he tried to when he realized that he was falling in love with you, of watching Megumi and Tsumiki turn their backs to you as though the past four years of your lives had never happened, banning you from their acceptance forever more.

Tears well in your gaze, interfering with your vision. This can not be happening, you think to yourself, everything has been going so well, and now this? This is going to ruin your relationship with Toji for good. Even if you were not in a committed relationship with him, you assume that the idea of any woman getting impregnated by Toji would have been thrown away. You would be thrown away, just like all the others who gave Toji their bodies but not their hearts.

Not the way you have.

Your heart clenches thinking of just how much you love Toji and the kids, of how you would be willing to lay down your own life for the sake of them as Toji swears that he would for you all in return. Even so, despite the commitment to you that a man who swore never to be committed to accustomed, this would be going too far.

…You’re not even sure if he would love you anymore.

Now that you’re pregnant with his child, a child he never meant to have with you, you assume you will mean nothing to him any longer. In his eyes, you will simply become the slut that he took a chance on by a whim, carrying something he would never call his own. You believe the old Toji will resurface, the one who claimed not to care, the one who shoved women out of his bedroom before the sun rose in the sky, the one who often failed to remember to pick his kids up from school, the one who would no longer meet you at eye level but look down upon you, frown upon you for being so clumsy.

You know Toji is the one who did this, but this still feels like it is your doing. Like somehow, you trapped him and he now has no choice but to break free from the steel cage you have barred around him with your conception.

Your fingers clutch over the plastic, your eyes scrunching closed to release a fresh set of tears that cascade over your cheeks and onto the test. You can feel yourself mourning your relationship already, you can feel it slipping through your fingers, see it fading in the distance until it becomes nothing but a bittersweet memory that you can not determine as reality or a figment of your imagination any longer.

You tilt your head, bringing the test to your forehead as you think, grieve, cry. You mull over your options; you could hide this from Toji, get an abortion and never think of it again or you could tell Toji and lose him forever.

You open your bleary eyes, lashes decked with dewy tears, as another idea dawns upon you. You could leave, leave before Toji and the kids have a chance to leave you.

It’s a cruel thought, you think, especially abandoning those children without any proper explanation for them, but what else are you meant to do? You’d be doing them all a favor if anything by taking your leave without them having to be plagued by the knowledge of your unplanned pregnancy, of what they may view as a scheme to destroy their family in your new baby’s wake.

The thought kills you to even entertain. You had promised those kids that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d stay with them for as long as they allowed you… but this is different. This is not what any of you had in your cards, how you believed your futures to go. Toji wants simplicity at home while he works through chaos through his occupation. He wants security, warmth, safety for you, Megumi, Tsumiki, and no one else. He would never welcome another child. You believe he’d be caught dead before approving of your pregnancy.

And therefore, you know what you have to do.

After taking a few more tests to ensure that the readings are accurate, which they are, you pledge to walk away. You pledge to leave the only man you’ve ever truly loved, the strongest family you’ve known, and the slim possibility that despite Toji’s wishes, he may accept you.

But you don’t want to take that chance and risk the humiliation and unplanned heartbreak. You’d much rather take matters into your own hands, and plan the shattering of your soul yourself.

You don’t sleep all night, for you’re too busy drafting about twenty different letters to Toji. Crumpled loosleaf paper litters the floor beside your bed as you try to think of how to best write down everything you want to say. You go through pages and pages until you are finally satisfied with the result, and the next morning, you slip the envelope into his mail slot and prepare to pack your life away.

It is late Sunday morning when Toji rises from his slumber. The first thing he does is lean over the sheets and drape his arm toward his nightstand to read your daily good morning text - only he finds there isn’t one. With pinched brows, he takes his phone to unlock it and visit your contact. Nothing.

The time reads 12:35 pm. Normally, you’re up and at it or even banging down his door by then to wake him. Maybe you’re just sleeping in?

He goes to give your cell a call, but nothing. Not only that, but your phone is also on do not disturb mode. His gut immediately swells with the suspicion that something is wrong. The dark haired assassin supposes he’s going to pay you a visit this afternoon as soon as he checks on the kids to ensure that they are alright.

His bedroom door opens with a creak, and he calls out to the teens gruffly through a yawn. When they don’t respond, he’s truly growing concerned.

He rounds the corner to prepare to head for their rooms when he finds Tsumiki and Megumi at the dining table. His brows furrow, his pace slowing as he takes in their faces. Tsumiki’s lips are pressed together tightly and the muscles in her face are scrunched as though she is about to cry, while Megumi stares ahead with empty eyes and a hardened exterior.

Toji frowns with quirked brows, approaching his kids. “What’s wrong with you two?”

His brunette daughter looks up at him with glassy eyes and wrinkled chin, lashes fluttering while Megumi does not bother to look at his father. Instead, he brings Toji’s attention to a torn envelope and a thick packet of papers pressed beneath the sixteen year old’s palm. Wordlessly, Megumi slides it toward him, brows slanting.

Toji, perplexed, looks between the papers and his children’s troubled faces. What is this letter? Overdue taxes? An eviction notice? That can’t be possible, because you had ensured that Toji and the kids’ place was secure long ago.

He crunches the papers in his hands and picks them up to read. The first thing that catches his eye is your scribbling handwriting, and the following words that send his heart plummeting to his ass:

This isn’t working out.

Toji whips his head up, baffled, and when he meets Megumi’s gaze again, his eyes are ablaze with resentment.

“What the hell did you do?” he growls.

The green eyed man is not even thinking before he’s dialing Shiu’s number, asking him to watch the kids for the next hour or so, and running out of the apartment after throwing rather unconvincing words of assurance over his shoulder to his kids, who are still with disbelief - Tsumiki with devastation and Megumi with rage, for surely his father pushed you away.

Toji does not bother finding a ride, electing to run to your place which is only a few blocks away. You two were just discussing moving in with one another, combining households, and this is what you spring onto him? Not even for him to stumble across first, but his kids who look up to you and love you like their own mother?

Oh, he’s fuming, a rush of emotions taking over his mind as it fuels his speed. The letter you wrote is still crunched in his fist, whipping through the air as he makes his way to you.

Dear Toji,

This is not working out.

But before you rampage and get angry with me, please let me explain. Let me explain how much I love you, how much those kids mean to me, and how every day I wake up I want to be greeted by all of your smiling faces. For the rest of time, forever. You are undoubtedly the only man for me, and I truly believe that. I know you may think I’m bullshitting because of how the beginning of this letter contradicts what im saying now, but it’s true. I have never loved another person the way I love you, and while it scared me at first when you were so stubborn and full of anger that you misdirected onto me, I stayed and I waited and I helped you and I’ve loved you through every single moment, ever week, every month, and every year. You brought purpose back into my life, and I can picture you scoffing because you’d say the same, but I mean it. You, Tsumiki, and Megumi are the best things that have ever happened to me. I love you all so much.

But in this case, that love is not enough.

I hate to be doing this to you, to the kids, but I have no other choice. Things aren’t going the way they used to, and it’s not your fault but mine. I’m the reason. And it is tearing me apart to know that and simultaneously know what I have to do in order to keep you and the kids happy. Stable. I wish I could explain to you more why I am doing this, but I can’t. Not just because I am dying to picture you reading this, but because I truly can not say. I do not want to ruin you guys’ image of me. While I think that’s a selfish thing to say because who knows how me leaving is going to hurt you all, you would not understand even if you knew the reason behind this.

By the time you are done reading this, I will be gone. I’m going away because as long as I am not with you all, I can’t stay here anymore. I am staying with my mother while I get my travel plans arranged, because I know how you worry when you do not know where I am or if im safe. I should be gone by Friday.

Please do not come see me. I have made my decision, and you will only be hurting us more by trying to stop me. I won’t be stopped.

Kiss and hug and apologize to Megumi and Tsumiki for me. I hope you find someone who fills the role of their mother, someone who knows how Megumi likes to do his homework in the silence of his room with no music or anything, completely isolated so he can focus. Someone who knows how to fix Tsumiki’s eggs properly - to add extra butter to the sides when you fry them so the edges get crispier. Someone who won’t try to feed Gumi’a demidogs because he hates when people assume they can coddle up to them upon first introduction. Someone who cares for the wholly the way I do and always will.

And you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how angry you probably are at me right now, and I will miss that about you, but please do not let that interfere with the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the layers of grit, standoffishness, and indifference, you are a man with a big heart. For me. For your kids. For those you love and seek to protect.

You say you aren’t a good man, and while that may be true to you, you are an amazing partner and you’ve already become an amazing parent. I’ve seen you grow, and I am so in love with you and so proud of you. I know you’ll be okay without me. It maybe take some time, but you’ll adjust to what’s best. I promise.

With all the love that could possibly be harbored in this world, you are everything to me and that is why I have to go. I wish you every happiness this planet can offer you, and I know that without me, you can begin to find joy again.

Love,

Your doll

You had believed to time this perfectly, for you know that Toji usually does not wake until one, so soon as you are finishing up packing, you are trudging down the stairs to the leasing office to inform them that you will be moving.

You push open the door to the first floor, the breeze hitting you gently, and you round the corner only to be blocked by the last person you wanted to run into during this time.

Your eyes widen as you look up, the burly figure you have grown oh so familiar with over the years heaving as though enraged, ivy eyes crowding over slim pupils as Toji glares down at you, an image of indescribable fury.

Your heart drops and your words die in your throat. “T-Toji?” you whisper, horrified of an outburst. You are rattled by fear, having been so unprepared to walk into this. You did not put it past him to chase you down. But you figured that you’d be at your parents by the time he woke. Then, you could have at least told them to tell him off at the door.

But no. Instead, here he is, six feet and then some of bulking mass as he takes quick, deep breaths that expand the entirety of his chest.

You shift. “What are you doing here-“

“What the fuck is this?”

Toji swiftly, yet aggressively, lifts the papers in his hands, now damaged by his travels and his grip, shaking it firmly with the question. You gulp, lowering your eyes.

“Toji, I told you not to come…”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he swears firmly, and you jump, looking to see if anyone is around to hear you, as the two of you are standing outside your complex.

“We shouldn’t be- let’s just go inside,” you go to grab his arm, but he tears it away. He stares at you as though you have burned him, singed the heart in his chest from the inside out, and he is so unforgiving. So unforgiving before he hears directly from your mouth what this is about.

“I’m not doin’ shit until you tell me what the fuck this is, (Y/n),” he demands, his hand moving the papers about passionately with his speech, and you feel your heart hammering again. This is not how things were supposed to go. You are not supposed to be seeing him right now. “Cause I refuse- I fuckin’ refuse to believe that you’re breaking up with me.”

Your eyes gloss over as you look down at your feet, unsure of what to do or how to handle this confrontation. You can’t do this. You can’t, it’s too much. It’s too hard.

“…I am,” you mumble.

Toji steps forward, leaning down to get a peek of your face, his expression so angry that it worries you. “What?”

“I said… I am.”

“Uh uh, you better say that shit with your chest if you can write a whole damn letter about it,” he growls, fucking further as you continue to turn away. “Look at me,” he barks, and you cringe.

“Toji, don’t yell at me!” you shout back.

“What else do’ya want me to do, huh?” he throws his hands up. “How else do you expect me to react to this bullshit?! You’re leavin’ me? After everythin’ we been through, after everythin’ you and the kids’ve been through, you’re leavin? Are you fuckin’ serious?”

He takes a swift glance at the papers, the very sight sending him into a spiral, before he’s heatedly looking back down at you.

“I don’t buy this shit for one second. No. You’re not leavin’. Not in this world, or the next.”

“I am, Toji, the quicker you accept that, the easier it’ll be for everyone!”

“Easy?” he winces as though the prospect pains him. “You call this shit easy? You call up and tryin’ to abandon me easy? You call the kids waking up to your letter and reading it at the table before I saw it easy?”

Your face falls. “…what?”

“Yeah. You fuckin’ heard me,” he sneers. “Megumi and Tsumiki read this shit first. First thing in the morning, they see a letter about how the woman they love is leavin’ ‘em, just like their mom did, and for what?”

You close your eyes, his words stinging you as they cut through. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true, ain’t it? Y’er leavin’ us, (Y/n), and you didn’t even have the decency to say why!”

Guilt crowds you, like a blanket of darkness consuming you from overhead, and as Toji stands before you completely torn apart by your letter, you see the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the unspoken plea for you not to go.

You try your best to keep your composure as you turn away again. “I told you, I can’t tell you.”

“Fuck that,” he lifts the letter and tosses it to the ground with a thud. You gasp, watching it slam to the concrete pavement.

“Toji!” you exclaim.

“You think you can just leave without me comin’ to hunt you down and see your face so I can figure out what the hell is goin’ on? You must not know me at all.”

“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?!”

“Of all fuckin’ things, (Y/n), I think I got a right to be aggressive about this. You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye!” he tosses his arm out to the side with the exclamation, brows twisting and teeth bearing. “Is that what our relationship means t’ya? You think you can just toss us aside?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” you beg, a lump forming in your throat as the two of you stand face to face, arguing without a car about who will see you.

“Then tell me,” he shouts. “Cause you’re not givin’ me shit to go off of!”

“I told you already, I can’t,” your lips quiver.

“Then our relationship is nothing to you.”

“No, Toji.”

“Clearly it ain’t, cause I’d think it’d be worth an explanation if you’re runnin’ away!” you frown and shake your head, turning to walk back into the complex when Toji cuts you off, moving in your way. “You don’t think I know you? You don’t think I see it all over your face that somethin’s got you scared, and y’re takin’ off because of it? You think I don’t know what that looks like, (Y/n)? I did that shit. I did it all the damn time before I met you, and hell, I tried to run then but you wouldn’t let me, so what the hell makes you think I’m gonna let you now?”

“This is different,” you say shortly, afraid to reveal the tremble of your voice to the man before you. You keep your gaze down as you try to go around him again, but to no avail. He steps in your path. “Stop!”

“I ain’t stoppin’,” he says gravely, keeping his eyes to yours though you try to avoid contact with them. “Not until you spit it out. I’ll be damned if I got another broken home cause y’re fuckin’ scared.”

“I said stop!” you try to find some bass in your voice, but against your will, it falters when you yell. Toji eyes you carefully, reaching his hand out to grip your shoulder and steady you into place.

You scoff, attempting to pull away, but it’s no use. The dark haired man is everywhere, keeping you from walking away.

“You talk to me like the grown ass woman you are,” he tells you sternly, stepping in. “You use that voice I know you have, and don’t you ever let me catch you writin’ a letter to me about how you wanna break up instead of comin’ to talk to me. Y’understand?”

You exhale shakily, lips pressing together and brows curling. “I can’t.”

“Y’re still not tellin’ me why you think that.”

“Because I can’t, Toji. I can’t tell you. It’ll- it’ll fuck up everything!” you break, and Toji feels the pit in his stomach shift as he looks over your aggrieved expression, depicting the same exact things he feels.

“(Y/n),” he calls your name firmly, the sound of it on his tongue only inspiring the urge to cry more. You continue to shake your head though Toji isn’t exactly speaking, and his green eyes wander you with frustrated concern. “Y’scared of what I’ll do if you tell me?”

You freeze, slowly peeling your eyes to look at his, his face tense with grief. You stare at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish as all of your insecurities that talked you toward this ledge run through your mind once more.

“Don’t look surprised,” he says. “I know you like the back of my hand, and I know that you knew I’d be over here to stop ya.”

Your frown deepens, and this time as you look at him, you see every second of your future that you were quick to stomp dow. You see the unbridled, unfiltered love he holds for you as well as the blood curdling fear of letting you go.

“You have to understand,” you whimper. “I know how you’ll react, I- I can’t do this to you. You have to let me go.”

“What the hell could be so horrifyin’ in that head of yours to make you think that I won’t stick with ya through hell and high water?” he grits out, searching your swollen hues of (e/c) hesitation. “You’d do the same for me.”

“I know, but-“

“There’s nothin’ else to say. I ain’t leavin’ until you spill, and when you do, y’re comin’ with me.”

You look at him, pained. It’s a trap, you think. If Toji only knew, he’d be running for the hills instead of trying to track you down.

“Out with it, now.”

You can’t. You can’t tell him. He’ll leave you, he’ll reject you, he’ll turn you away, he’ll never let you see the kids again.

“(Y/n)!”

“I’m pregnant!”

The earth seems to freeze and time seems to slow. You scrunch your eyes, anticipating the worst to come as Toji takes in your words, his tensed expression melting slowly.

You don’t open your eyes to see his reaction. You keep your head ducked and your fists closed as the white noise of nature flutters into relevance. You’re trembling, terrified, and Toji can not move but instead proceeds to stare at you, stunned.

His words about not wanting any more kids run through your mind again as you await his response, and the suspense kills you as you do. You can feel his grip on your shoulder slacken before tightening again, and you are terrified.

He’s going to leave you.

You are quick to step away when the sentiment arises once more, Toji’s hand falling from you arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I know that you don’t want any more kids. I know, an I thought we were being careful, but- I took five tests. They’re all positive.”

“You’re pregnant?” he echoes, and you still. You knew it. You knew this would happen.

“I told you, Toji,” you exhale. “I told you that I couldn’t tell you, and now everything’s a mess.”

He twitches. “Hold on-“

“Don’t tell me all of a sudden you want kids,” you snap. “I know how strongly you feel about it.”

“So instead of talkin’ to me, you were gonna leave? Knocked up? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What other choice do I have?!” you cry. “You don’t want more kids, and if I kept it, it would only be a nuisance to you. And Megumi and Tsumiki?”

He scrunches his face. “What about ‘em?”

“How do you think they’d feel if the woman you’re dating after their mother died surprised them with a new baby? They’d be crushed!” you say shakily as salty tears well in your eyes again. “I can’t overstep your boundaries. I just can’t. It’s easier for me to go.”

“And do what, (Y/n)? Raise a kid on your own without any help?”

“I can’t bare you leaving me!” you suddenly confess, tear striking past your cheek.

Toji examines you and frowns. “What are y’talkin’ about? You’re tryin’ to leave me!”

“So I can prevent the inevitable from happening,” you huff. “I’m okay with it. I’ve made peace with everything. That’s why you need to just let me go-“

“After everythin’, you think I’d throw you away because you’re pregnant with my kid?” Toji says incredulously. You falter, for you had been so sure of his reaction before. “You think that low of me?”

“No, but I want you to have what you want.”

“What I want is you, you fuckin’ idiot,” he hisses. “All I ever wanted was you, and I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re tryin’ to take that away from me.”

You furrow your brows, confused. “…You’re not mad?”

“Girl, I’m livid,” he scowls. “Not about the damn kid, but because you assumed what I would say before comin’ to me.”

“Toji, you have to understand that I was trying to look out for you.”

“There’s not lookin’ out for me or those kids or makin’ them happy if you’re gone, (Y/n),” he bites. “Who th’fuck put that idea in your head?”

You stammer, tears proceeding to flow down your face as you reel in the reality of the situation. “I… I just thought-“

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

Before you can respond, his hand is gripping your wrist and he’s tugging you toward him into his chest. You shake when you fall into him, listening to the pace of his heart rapidly beating against your ear as he breaths quickly against you. Large palms smooth over your head and down to your waist as he holds you tightly, and you notice how desperate his grip is. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, as though you’ll fly away if his hold is not tight enough.

He tucks his head into your neck, fingers grasping into your shirt, and suddenly the animosity of the moment prior is gone. You’re still trembling, leading Toji to hold you tighter to him.

“Can’t believe you tried to leave,” he murmurs into your hair. “Christ, (Y/n) you’re tryin’ to gimme a heart attack. The fuck is goin’ on with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, looking off sadly. “I thought you’d be upset about it. I didn’t want you to know.”

“I should know about any and every single thing that’s goin’ on with you, y’hear me? This ain’t no exception.”

A weight flutters from your shoulders as you sink into Toji’s head, silent tears streaming for the life you almost sacrificed. “What are we gonna do?”

“I dunno,” he mumbles. “But we’ll figure it out. As a team. Alright?”

You nod meekly. “Okay.”

He groans, pressing himself impossibly further to you. “That letter… fuck, don’t do that shit. Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that. Without you, I ain’t shit- pregnant or not. And those kids would adore another sibling if you were bringing it into this world. Don’t say that shit about them again either. They need ya. We need ya.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine again, Toji’s hand stroking over your back soothingly.

“It’s okay,” he grumbles. “We’ll figure it out.”

[cinnawonbabe]

ATTENTION, PLEASE! (1)

pairings: professor!heeseung x student fem!reader

warnings: teacher x student relationship, forbidden affairs, smut, oral, both receiving, anal play, praise and spankings, legal age gap

overview: y/n was just like any other college girl, crushing on the young and attractive literature professor at the university she attended. one day she’s asked to come back after class and things get a little steamy. who knew being a teacher’s pet was fun?

taglist 🏷️: @nayeoniiz @mheretoreadff @deobitifull @riribelle @jakeswifez @yohanabanana @fkarchve @1013club @rizz00 @kpopjackie @isagistar @wheretheheckis-ssaki @freaky-enhamadswriter @manuosorioh

SORRY IF YOU ASKED FOR A TAG AND DIDN’T GET IT. I COULDN’T TAG MOST BECAUSE YOUR ACCOUNT WAS NOT POPPING UP FOR ME. PLEASE ENJOY! IF THIS DOES WELL AND GET 400 NOTES, I’LL POST A PART TWO!!

it was the first day back from spring break and to say y/n was excited was an understatement. she was overjoyed to see her friends again. while she was getting ready for her first class of the day, literature, and finishing the last touches to her makeup, her friend winter called. y/n answered, putting the phone on speaker so she could multitask talking and finishing getting herself ready.

"girl where are you? class is about to start," winter whisper-yelled through the phone. y/n checked the time, seeing that she was in fact behind schedule.

"fuck, i'm gonna be late," she said, rushing to put her shoes on. after making sure her uniform was neat, she grabbed her bag and phone before running out the door.

"and who are you trying to look cute for?" winter joked with a laugh upon y/n switching the call over to a facetime.

"no one. i just felt the need to dress up today. is the professor there?" she answered while speed walking over to the building her class was held in.

"no. they haven't arrived yet, so you're lucky for once," winter said with a laugh. "hurry though, i saved you a spot," she added and y/n hummed in response as she approached the building.

she made her way inside, picking up her pace so she wouldn't be that late, but ultimately made it to class.

"fucking finally. you're here," winter laughed, taking her bag off the seat next to her for y/n to sit in. "still no professor?" y/n asked and winter shrugged not knowing herself.

you know, after 15 minutes, if a teacher hasn't arrived to class after the set time has passed, class is canceled?" one male student in the back stated.

y/n turned back to see it was one of the football players. most students got to talking with excitement as it was getting close to that 15 minute mark while others were upset that they didn't get to see the professor today, y/n was one of the students who was pretty bummed out.

just when some students were packing up their supplies, the classroom door opened up.

professor lee heeseung rushed in class. "sorry for the wait guys. i was in an important staff meeting about the fair we're having for the homecoming events next week and we kind of got carried away." he said in between breaths.

he took off his blazer and set it down on the podium that was situated in the front of the room. he rolled up his sleeves. "anyone else feeling a bit hot or is that just me?" he asked, chuckling to himself.

all the girls, including y/n, couldn't help but stare at him. watching him intently.

he has to know what he's doing. he just knows how attractive he is. y/n thought to herself.

"no it's hot in here sir. me and my friends think the air conditioning unit has stopped working." one female student stated.

heeseung nodded his head in acknowledgement, "oh i see. i'll have to make a complaint about that later. let me write that down so i don't forget." he said walking over to his desk situated in the corner of the room.

he pulled out a sticky notepad from one of his drawers and grabbed a pen from the cuphold on the desk and scribbled a mental note to himself there.

"okay, considering i was way behind my schedule. i'm going to give you all a break and just let you either stay here to make up work or you can just leave. it's completely up to you all." heeseung said, looking around the classroom after he placed the notepad back on his desk.

most students didn't hesitate to collect their things and bid heeseung goodbye or thank him for his kindness.

of course he smiled and bid those goodbye before turning his attention back to the few students that did decide to stay. which consisted of a two male students, one being a literature major and the other that just so happened to be asleep and the rest we girls that just wanted an excuse to stare at the professor.

"assuming that you all are here for help and to catch up on work so feel free to ask me any questions, okay?" he said once more before heading back to his desk.

y/n watched his backside as he headed to his desk and wondered what his back muscles looked like under his dress shirt. once he sat down he looked back towards the class, catching y/n stare. she imma looked down in embarrassment and busied herself with her studies, not catching the little smirk that made his way on his face.

y/n felt movement beside her and looked over to see her seatmate fixing herself up before calling out to the professor. "professor lee? i need help on one of the older assignments you gave. can you give me a but of assistance with it?" y/n heard her ask.

he nodded and signaled for her to come to his desk and so she did. getting up from her seat, swaying her hips purposely in the process.

she bent over his desk, showing her cleavage to him as she placed her paper down for 'help'.

that's usually how things goes. most girls go out there way to get his attention but from all the things y/n has seen, it doesn't seem to work. he wasn't phased by it and just gave her the help she needed before he sent her back to her seat.

another girl failed. y/n of course hasn't. in fact, she never tried to because she was too scared and too shy to even hold a conversation or even ask him for help but that never stopped him from trying to talk to her.

he had taken an interest in calling on her sometimes for questions she never volunteers herself from.

usually that would end up with her stuttering to answer it or having her frozen from being put on the spot.

after a while of sitting in a somewhat silent classroom, heeseung cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "attention everyone class is just about over and my next class will be here soon." he stated, looking at his wristwatch.

everyone packed up their things and headed out of the class. y/n was just about to leave before she was stopped by heeseung's voice suddenly calling out to her.

y/n stopped where she was near the classroom door, turning to him as he sat at his desk. "yes, professor lee?" she asked. he motioned for her to come to him, waving his hand in a signaling gesture. she was hesitant at first, she wasn't sure if she should or not. she swallowed her own pride and made her way over to him.

"so i wanted to talk to you to see if you'd like to help me later with gathering things for the art and theatre club. they'll be doing most of the creative work and i promised the directors that i'll head to the storage area in the left wing and get the supplies they needed. i can't do it myself, so would you like to help a poor old man like me?" he asked with pleading eyes.

y/n was a bit speechless as to why he chose her out of all people. he wants me to help him? she thought to herself. there was no way out of all the girls in this class, he chose her. she stood there unresponsive for a bit, lost in her own thoughts. it began to worry him a little bit from her sudden quietness. "it's okay if you don't want to i can always just ask-" he couldn't finish his sentence as y/n interrupted him with a slightly raised voice. "no!"

she realized the tone and volume of her voice and felt hot from the embarrassment. she didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, a slight smirk appearing on his face knowing his plan was working.

"uhm i meant no it's okay professor lee, i can help you. i don't mind at all!" she stated a bit too eagerly.

she mentally cursed at herself because of it but nonetheless, heeseung didn't seem to mind. "great!! just meet me back here around 7pm, okay?" he smiled softly, causing y/n’s heart to flutter. he definitely knows the effect he has on her.

she nodded her head in agreement before flashing him a small smile in return. “yes sir,” she retorted before walking out the classroom door. she was lost in her thoughts once again, geeking over the fact that he wanted alone time with her. this was truly a dream come true.

her thoughts soon interrupted by her best friend winter spooking her, “hey!” winter yelled a little bit as she approached her. y/n grabbed her chest as she calmed herself down. “my bad, didn’t mean to scare you,” winter joked before bursting out into a fit of giggles, earning a slap on the arm from her friend. “that’s not funny win,” y/n stated, rolling her eyes playfully as she walked off with winter following close behind her. “so what was that all about?” she asked, jumping in her face as she interrogated her. y/n gently pushed her back, smiling wide as the scene replayed in her mind. even though it just happened moments prior to this conversation, she couldn’t help but reminisce about how he chose her. winter nudged her, bringing her back to reality. “soooo are you going to tell me why hot stuff over there held you back?” she questioned again but y/n only giggled in response, causing her bestie to groan at in annoyance. “its nothing really, he just wants me to help him with something for theatre class and i told him i would,” she replied honestly.

winter stared at her intensely, looking for any glimmer of doubt. she was trying to see if she was lying to her or not. y/n stared back at her clueless as to why her best friend was seemingly trying to intimidate her for some reason. is she jealous? she thought. ultimately, winter shrugged it off. i guess she was being truthful. “well good luck and make sure you use a condom, i’m not ready to be an auntie just yet,” she laughed, nudging her friend. y/n’s eyes widened upon hearing those words leave her mouth. before she could smack her friend, winter took off running, satisfied with the reaction she got from her bestie. y/n followed shortly behind, yelling out threats to her friend as she did so.

__________________________

time seemed to have moved on so fast. it was already 7pm and y/n was making her way back to professor heeseung’s classroom. i hope this doesn’t look suspicious. she was having second thoughts. maybe this was a bad idea. she didn’t want to get caught up in something that wasn’t true, even though she wished it was. she didn’t want people to think she was having a secret affair with her teacher, but then again she didn’t actually mind it at all. she longed for him to caress her ever so gently. she wanted to feel his lips against her own but who didn’t? every girl on campus wanted a piece of him but can you blame them? he’s in his late twenties teaching hormonal nineteen and twenty year olds. a lot of his students were fresh out of highschool so seeing a young professor was like winning the lottery.

eventually she made it towards his classroom door, peering inside. it was dark and the only form of light was coming from the hallway where she stood. she scanned the room as best as she could but there was no sign of him. maybe he had forgotten. as she was about to walk away she ran face first into something or someone. she looked up and was face to face with heeseung himself. oh god. she thought. a light blush painted her face as she realized how close they were so she took a few steps back. “sorry, i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was going,” she apologized, her eyes averting her vision everywhere but his.

the view was astonishing to him. their slight height difference boosted his ego. it empowered him. he knew exactly what he what he was doing. y/n was timid and kept to herself. she wasn’t like the other girls he taught.

everyday a female student would force themselves onto him any chance he got. he was used to all the attention he gotten. he may not have shown it but he did enjoy it. so it was weird that y/n never seemed to try. he knew she found him attractive but she never seem to give him the time of day. so he started making moves. calling on her during class even though she never raised her hand, taking initiative to talk to her after class whenever he could because he knew it made her heart race. the innocence she portrayed had drawn her in. it was something he had to obtain, more so, alter it. he wanted her to be his, to hold, to control. that’s exactly how they ended up here. he falsified the ‘i need help’ teacher act. he knew she would fall for it. she was oblivious to it all.

he stared at her for a moment before he spoke, “it’s okay, i was just heading in,” he stated before moving passed her and towards the door. he unlocked it and entered the room, holding the door open for her. “are you joining me still?” he asked tenderly, his voice soft and sweet. it made her heart skip a beat. he was pure gold to her. a soft hearted, well-mannered, absolutely beautiful, educated and elegant man was spending alone time with her. she was head over heels for him.

she hummed in response and followed in right behind him. upon entering he closed the door, discreetly locking it without her noticing and flicked on the lights. “i hope you don’t mind, i have to gather up a few paperwork before we head that way, is that fine?” he asked, making his way towards his desk. he sat down, picking up groups of scattered papers that sat disorganized on his desk. he neated placed them into piles before putting them in his briefcase that he brought with him. y/n walked closer, gazing over at him. she watched

him quietly, fiddling with her fingers as she did so. she couldn’t help but think about what winter said earlier. imagining her professor fucking her on this desk right now.

images of him pounding into her core flushed her mind, making her core leak from the slight horniness that had taken over her. she was so lost in thought she couldn’t hear heeseung calling out to her. he then cleared his throat, finally gaining her attention. she looked up at him, face flustered. she looked absolutely stunning to him; no, beautiful actually. he wanted to ruin her. “you’re one of my best students?” he asked, getting up from his seat and walked over to the front of his desk where he leaned up against it.

she was dumbfounded, “i am?” she asked innocently, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. heeseung found it adorable, she really didn’t have a clue in the world. “precisely. you’ve never been the type to throw yourself at me. that’s what i like about you,” he continued, making her all flustered again. he truly was enjoying this moment right now. “i’m just not the kind of girl. you’re my teacher not a love interest,” she said truthfully, but he didn’t like that response. he knew better than that and so did she. they both wanted each other more than anything right now.

he began to loosen his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. “is that really how you feel?” he asked, finally pulling his shirt open, revealing his toned abdomen. she stared in awe as she watched him strip in front of her. his shirt sliding off his shoulder and falling to the ground. her eyes trailed down his figure. he was a sight to see that’s for sure. she noticed a tent forming in his pants and she audibly gasped unintentionally. a smirk appeared on his lips. gotcha. he thought.

she didn’t know how to react in this very moment. what was she supposed to do? her very attractive literature teacher was standing shirtless in front of her. that’s every girl on campus dream and yet here she was living it.

“i-i don’t know if this is appropriate professor,” she stuttered, averting her gaze towards the floor. she stared at her sneakers until another pair of shoes came into view. she froze. too scared to look up now knowing how close he was to her. he took his hand and gently tilted her head upward so they were facing each other. she gulped, now meeting eyes with a different side of her professor. and truth be told, she was enjoying every second of it. “i want you more than anything right now,” he said, disregarding her previous statement of whether this was appropriate between the two. he didn’t care. nine years wasn’t that big of an age gap for him. she was nineteen and he was twenty- eight years old. how bad could this be?

he looked her in her eyes, searching for any sign he needed to know what his next move was. there it was, like a flicker. he smiled mischievously, pondering his next move but was surprised by her crashing her lips onto his.

she kissed him hungrily. she couldn’t hold it any longer. she needed him right now.

heeseung snaked his arm around her, grabbing her thighs to signal her to jump. she did, jumping into his embrace and wrapping her legs around his waist as their lips danced in one another.

he carried her to his desking, next faltering this kiss. he sat her on the edge, slipping his tongue in her mouth and explore every crevice of it. she moaned into the kiss, sucking on his tongue as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt. he broke the kiss, pulling her shirt over her head, taking it off and tossing it on the floor.

y/n took that time to catch her breath before he smashed his lips back on to hers. she grabbed his belt loosening it up but before she could pull them down he stopped her, grabbing ahold of her hands, “not so fast baby, lets take it slow.”

she whined, disappointed and desperate. he laughed, placing a small and shirt kiss on her lips. he unclipped her bra, sliding it off her. her breasts we plumped and perky. just how he liked them. he attached his mouth to one breast, sucking and swirling his tongue around her nipple. she bit back a few moans that threatened to slip out. she felt elastic. she knew what they were doing was so wrong but it felt so right. the adrenaline rush she got from this turned her on more. at any given moment they could be caught by anyone, a dean, a security guard, or a fellow student passing by.

she didn’t care at all, it thrilled her actually. fueling her desires even more. she watched and he alternated between each of her breast, leaving love bites all over her chest before proceeding to kiss down to the hem of her skirt, he didn’t care to take those off, he wanted to fuck her in her cute little uniform skirt so he pushed them up to get a better view of her leaking core.

a small chuckle left his lips upon seeing how soaked her panties were just from them kissing. she felt a little embarrassed hearing him laugh and tried to shut her legs but he stopped her from doing so. “don’t hide baby, she’s beautiful. let’s she was she looks like without these in the way,” he reassured her, sliding her pantines to the side to get a better look and her dripping core.

her little cunt made him go crazy. he looked up at her as he licked between her flaps. the warmth of his tongue sent shivers down her spine. he placed small kisses on her clit, edging her on. he wanted to tease her and have her begging for more.

y/n was too impatient and grabbed a fistful of his hair, shoving his face into her leaky cunt, heeseung obliged, giving her what she wanted. he began to eat her out, sucking on her clit and flicking his tongue in a way that made her toes curl. soft moans escape her mouth but she didn’t care. everything felt so good right now. place her legs above his shoulders and started to slowly grind against his face. the pleasure building up as she felt ecstatic. she threw her head back, moaning loudly as she continued to hump his face. he watched her as she got closer to her climax, he took two of his digits and plunged them deep into her pretty little cunt.

a loud gasp was heard from her, feeling his fingers deep inside him. he thrusted them faster, curling them as he hit her sweet spot, earning beautiful moans from y/n. he absolutely loved it. he was marking what was rightfully his. he continued his pace as she grew closer to her climax. he sucked a little harder on her clit, humming, sending vibrations to her core. a familiar pit grew in her stomach.

she was close, so so close and couldn’t contain it any longer. she screamed, forgetting where she was for a moment. her back arching as she squirted into his mouth, causing him to choke a little bit as her juices hit the back of his throat. she rode out her orgasm and she grinded on his face more before falling back onto his desk breathless.

heeseung stood up, dropping his pants to the floor as he looked down at her tired little figure laying on his desk. “we’re not finished yet, angel,” he said, stroking his long and thick member in his hand. she looked up, her eyes widened. there was no way in hell that was going to fit in her. “can daddy have some head baby?” he asked softly and she nodded, getting off his desk and kneeling before him. he cooed, watching her doe eyes stare up at him. he was loving this view of her better. she parted her lips slightly as he began to slap his cock against her face.

“open your mouth wide baby,” he instructed and she obliged, parting her lips more as s

he slid his cock right in. his breath hitched in his throat. the warmth of her mouth engulfing his seven inches did something to him. he let her take control, watching her bob her head on his thickness, taking every inch and girth of his cock. “yes baby. just like that. you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, encouraging her more. she forced herself to deep throat him, gagging as she did. he grunted at the feeling of her throat hugging his member, her gagging made the feeling even better.

her eyes started to brim with tears as his cock hit the back of her throat, drool dripping down her chin.

she took her hand and stroked him while sucking him off. this pleasure alone could’ve made him cum but he was determined to last. he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her off him to keeping him for cumming then and there. she winced from the harsh grip but didn’t stop it. she liked how rough he was getting. it turned her on even more.

he bent down crashing his lips onto hers. he didn’t care that she just had his cock in his mouth, he was a real man like that. kissing her hard and tasting himself on her before he pulled back. “open your fucking mouth!” he exclaimed, and she did without hesitation. he spit in her mouth and she swallowed it so effortlessly. “you like that my nasty little slut?” he asked and she whined in response.

he slipped his cock back into her mouth, fucking her throat hard, she choked out a cry around his member. he didn’t care. he kept fucking her mouth hard and deep, moaning loudly. “fuck just like that baby,” he said once more. he felt his climax coming soon so he pulled right back out. “bend over my desk,” he ordered. she got up slowly, her legs wobbling a bit. he couldn’t help but laugh, “don’t laugh,” she pouted and he cooed at her, he helped her lay her stomach flat onto his desk, her bottom side completely exposed.

he bit his lip at the sight in front of him, rubbing his hands against her firmly plumped ass cheeks. he needed to mark them. he took his big hand and smack down on her ass hard, causing a scream of pain and pleasure from y/n. this was all so new to her. she never knew she’d like being treat like a fuck toy by her hot professor. he brought a side of her she didn’t know she possessed. he lashed at her ass a few times, the classroom echoing from skin slapping and cries coming from y/n. who knew being a teacher's pet could be so fun.

handprints now decorated her ass and he was more that pleased to know that it was because of him. only he could have her like this.

he positioned himself at the entrance of her core, “spread for me baby,” he told her softly. she reached back, grabbing her ass cheeks and spread them open; giving him more access to come right on in. he spat between her crack, using his dick to wipe it down towards her cunt before sliding the tip in. they both moaned out in pleasure upon contact.

she felt every bit of his cock slide into her tight little cunt before he bellowed out. his whole member filled her to the brim. he sat there for a moment, letting her adjust to his size before he began to move. slowly thrusting in and out of her, he pace precise and steady.

the desk began to squeak against the floor as he thrusted harder than before, yelps of pleasure falling from her lips. he was digging into her guts. it felt like his tip was touching the inside of her stomach. her moans encouraging him to go harder. he dugges his cock deeper into her, her ass clapping against his skin. the room filled with the sounds of them fucking. he hoped they wouldn’t get caught but parts of him did. he wanted people to see the whore he was making out of her. he wanted people to know who she belonged to. he felt her wet cunt hug his girth, bringing both of them to their high, he fucked her harder, sliding his thumb in her ass. she screamed once more from the unexpected intrusion. fuck. he thought.

the pleasure was becoming too much for her, she couldn’t handle it any longer. both her holes were filled, a sensation she never knew she needed. “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he said and she could only moan out incoherent nonsense in response. that drove him nuts. he picked up his pace, fucking her to her climax. she cried out loud as the pleasure was unbearable and came hard once again.

this drove heeseung to his climax as well, cumming deep and hard into her. they hadn’t worn a condom. his cum filling her deep and oozing out with every little thrust he gave before him finally pulled out. he placed a kiss on her back before watching his thick load spill right out of her cunt. he didn’t care that they didn’t play it safe. to be honest, baby didn’t sound that bad to him. she was stuck with him regardless.

he reached over to the tissue box on his desk and began to clean her up and help her get dressed before dressing himself. she sat back up on his desk, her makeup ruined from all the sweat and tears she indured with getting her brains fuck out.

“you’re mine princess, got it?” he stated, pulling her close. she tiredly hummed in response, too warn out to say a word. a small smile formed on both of their faces before they snuck back out and went their separate ways.

the next day rolled around and y/n was heading to class where she met up with winter. “so how was it?” winter asked, and y/n furrowed her brows. “how was what?” she asked and winter laughed.

“how was it when you sucked his dick?” she joked, causing y/n to freeze. how did she know? did someone see us? she thought. winter nudged her friend. “i’m just joking god. i know nothing happened. you don’t have it in you to do something of that nature,” winter assured her, causing her to relax again. she didn’t know after all. y/n laughed, “i don’t think i could ever do anything like that,” she lied.

their conversation was cut short upon professor heeseung entering the class room. “good morning everyone!” he greeted, and most of them greeted back. him and y/n locked eyes momentarily, causing her to blush and look away before he began today’s lesson.

winter grew a little suspicious of that little encounter but said nothing.

if only she knew what was to come in the near future.

THE END!!

[thedensworld]

Now We're Swapping | j.ww

Pairing: Rich Kid Wonwoo x reader

Genre: College au!, Enemy to Lovers au!, Body Swapped au!

Type: fluff, hint angst, smut (mdni!)

Word Count: 18k

Summary: Wonwoo was waking up as his high school rival in one sudden morning. There were two things he could do, help you or turn your life into a miserable one.

Wonwoo experienced three bizarre things the moment he woke up:

1. He wasn’t in his soft, warm, and luxurious bed. In fact, he wasn’t even in his room. The second he opened his eyes, confusion struck him like a bolt of lightning. Instead of his familiar surroundings, he found himself lying on a rock-hard mattress in a room he had never seen before. His back ached from the uncomfortable bed, and the musty smell of old wood filled the air.

2. Before he could even process where he was, the door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. A woman, looking frantic and completely unbothered by the fact that he had just woken up, barged in and yelled at him. “Come on! Help me get the kids ready!” she snapped, her voice grating against his ears. Wonwoo flinched. The kids? Since when did he have kids to take care of? Even back at home, not a single staff member dared to wake him up so rudely, let alone order him around. But this woman? She had the audacity to yell at him as if she had been doing it for years.

3. It wasn’t until he was practically dragged out of bed, his body moving sluggishly with sleep still clinging to him, that the real shock hit him. Stumbling towards a mirror hanging on the wall, his bleary eyes landed on his own reflection—except it wasn’t his reflection. It was you. His heart plummeted into his stomach. He blinked. Once. Twice. He even rubbed his eyes, but nothing changed. It was your face staring back at him. No, wait! It wasn’t just your face—it was you. Or was it him? No! It was him, but in your body! No— Whatever! The details didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had somehow woken up as you!

Now, Wonwoo stood in the backyard of a place called Pristine Foster Home, feeling utterly lost. Wet blankets and bedsheets hung from the clothesline, swaying in the breeze, but he was too consumed by his own crisis to care. He tapped his foot anxiously against the ground, his fingers instinctively biting at his nails—a nervous habit he never realized you had. This can’t be happening. This is a nightmare.

Not only had he woken up as a girl, but to make things worse, he had woken up as you—his biggest rival for the upcoming university student presidential election next week. Before Wonwoo could fully process the madness of waking up as you, the woman—who everyone around here called Mrs. Kim—grabbed his wrist and dragged him away without a hint of hesitation.

“You! Front yard. Now. The donor is coming in two hours, and this place needs to be spotless!” she barked, barely giving him time to keep up with her fast-paced steps.

Wonwoo stumbled along, still disoriented, but before he could even protest, a broom was shoved into his hands, and Mrs. Kim disappeared just as quickly as she had appeared. He blinked down at the worn-out broom in his grasp.

What the hell was happening?

He huffed in frustration and, without a second thought, threw the broom aside the moment she was out of sight. His arms crossed over his chest, lips curling in irritation as his gaze swept across the yard. The place wasn’t even that messy. And more importantly—

“Why am I the only one working here?” he muttered under his breath, glaring at the empty yard. There were kids. Lots of them. Small, loud, and chaotic little kids running around, playing, laughing—doing everything except helping. Meanwhile, he—no, you—was here, being ordered around like some unpaid laborer.

A long sigh escaped his lips, carrying the weight of his rapidly declining mental state. He was exhausted, and he had barely even done anything yet. He pressed his fingers to his temple, trying to piece together the last thing he remembered.

He had gone home last night. That much was clear. After an intense strategic meeting at Mingyu’s place about how to crush you in the upcoming university election, he had ridden his bike home. He did have a beer—maybe two. But he wasn’t drunk. He swore he was completely sober when he got home.

And yet, here he was. Stuck in your body, in a place he had never been, surrounded by a bunch of kids and an overbearing woman yelling at him about cleaning. His head was starting to spin from the sheer absurdity of it all.

What kind of twisted nightmare was this?

Hours later, the children lined up neatly in the front yard, their chatter filling the air with restless energy. Wonwoo, on the other hand, was slumped on the front porch, exhausted and utterly out of place. He had barely caught his breath when, once again, Mrs. Kim grabbed him and dragged him forward, forcing him to join the group.

She clicked her tongue in disapproval, eyeing him—you—from head to toe. “You’re a mess,” she muttered. “You look filthy. You probably stink too, but there’s no time for a bath.”

Wonwoo barely had the energy to argue. His body—your body—was covered in sweat and dirt after hours of cleaning. His arms ached, his back was sore, and he was convinced he had never worked this hard in his life. And for what? To stand in a lineup like some kind of orphan?

“Now—Oh! They’re here! Let’s go.”

Mrs. Kim barely gave him a second to react before shoving him to the front of the group. Wonwoo stumbled forward, blinking in confusion as an expensive black car slowly rolled to a stop in front of them. His brows furrowed as he focused on the vehicle, a bad feeling creeping into his chest.

The driver stepped out first, closing the door behind him. Wonwoo’s blood ran cold.

“Oh no…” he muttered under his breath, his stomach twisting into knots. He knew this man. The driver stood tall, his expression neutral yet familiar, dressed in the usual black suit that Wonwoo had seen countless times before.

Don’t tell me the donor is…

Before he could finish his thought, the back doors of the car opened, and a well-dressed couple stepped out.

“Mr. Jeon! Mrs. Jeon! How are you? It’s very nice to meet you. It’s been a long time, right?” Mrs. Kim greeted them enthusiastically, her voice laced with respect.

Wonwoo’s entire body stiffened.

What in the actual universe was this?!

Standing before him were his parents.

Wonwoo froze as his mother approached him with a warm smile, her arms immediately wrapping around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n… you’re beautiful,” she murmured, pulling back slightly to cup his—your—cheek. “How are you, honey? I heard you joined the election for university student president. I wish you the best of luck!”

His entire body went rigid.

It wasn’t just the hug that caught him off guard—it was the way she spoke. So soft, so affectionate, her voice practically dripping with warmth. His mother had never spoken to him like that before. And now, she was looking at him—at you—with so much fondness that it made his stomach churn with unease.

Before he could even process her words, his father stepped up beside them. Unlike his mother’s overwhelming affection, his father’s greeting was simple yet firm as he gave Wonwoo a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Good job, Y/n. I heard you’re ranked second in your school.”

Wonwoo nearly scoffed. Of course, you’re second. Living in a foster home, faking a high-maintenance life while studying at an Ivy League university—you’d have to be at the top to keep up. But there was something about the way his father said it that irked him.

Second place. And who was first? Wasn’t it him? The top student? Before he could dwell on it any further, he felt Mrs. Kim’s sharp gaze on him. Her eyes flickered between him and his parents, silently sending him glances—no, warnings. Her expression screamed at him to stay in line, to play along.

Play along with what?!

Before he could figure it out, his mother suddenly took his arm, her fingers latching onto his wrist as she led him forward, her voice full of excitement. “Come, let’s take a look around!” The entire group started moving for a home tour, but Wonwoo was barely keeping up. His mind was still spinning, drowning in confusion, when a voice snapped him out of his daze.

Mr. Jung, the driver, leaned in and whispered something to his father.

His father’s expression darkened instantly.

“We need to go,” his father said abruptly, turning to his mother.

She blinked in surprise. “Why? What happened?”

“Our son is in the hospital. Bike accident.”

Wonwoo’s breath caught in his throat.

What?!

*

Now, thanks to the lie he had impulsively made earlier—saying he wanted to come with them to the hospital—everyone, or rather just his parents, would start thinking that you and he were close.

His mother’s fingers gently wrapped around his hand, her eyes filled with warmth as she asked, “You’re close with our Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo almost blurted out No way in hell! because, really, what kind of sick joke was this? He and you had been enemies since high school. Ever since you transferred in and started creeping up the academic ranks, toppling one student after another—except him. He had been the only one who managed to keep you from taking first place.

And now? Now, here he was. Sitting in front of a hospital room.

As his parents went inside to see their real son, Wonwoo sat stiffly in the hallway, his fingers absentmindedly tugging at the hem of the dress he was still wearing. Your dress. He hadn't even had the chance to change out of it—an old, faded yellow sleeping gown that was wrinkled from all the chaos he had been thrown into. His hair— your hair was probably a mess, sticking out in all directions, and worst of all… he reeked. The hours of chores he had done at the foster home had left him sweaty and grimy.

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

What the hell is going on?

Before he could spiral any further, the door to the hospital room creaked open.

“Honey.”

He looked up to see his mother stepping out, his father following close behind.

“He wants to see you.” Wonwoo’s heart stilled.

Shit. Who the hell was he?

“Wonwoo… is that you?”

The voice sent a shiver down his spine. It was his voice—his own deep, familiar tone—but coming from the hospital bed in front of him.

Wonwoo hesitated before stepping closer, eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of his own body lying there. His forehead was bandaged, a clear sign of the accident, but everything else was exactly as he remembered.

His own face looked back at him with furrowed brows, filled with confusion. “Who are you?” Wonwoo asked, his voice laced with suspicion. He didn’t know what to expect—hell, nothing about this entire day made sense—but seeing himself awake and talking to him? This was beyond anything he could’ve ever imagined.

The person in his body blinked, hesitant before answering.

“I’m Y/n…” Your voice—his voice—sounded unsure, shaken. “Why am I here?”

Wonwoo let out a slow breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Surprised you didn’t panic the moment you saw yourself talking to you,” he muttered, shaking his head. He honestly expected more screaming. Maybe some fainting. But here you were, surprisingly composed despite everything.

Your—his—eyes widened slightly, scanning the room before looking back at him. “What happened? Why… why am I you?”

Wonwoo scoffed, letting out a dry chuckle. “You think I know?” He met your gaze with an exasperated look. “I’m just as confused as you are, Ji Y/n. But whatever happened… we’ve switched.”

Silence filled the room as you stared at him, disbelief evident in your expression. And for the first time in his life, Wonwoo experienced the incredibly uncomfortable feeling of being stared at by himself.

It was unsettling. He shifted on his feet, looking away as he took a small step back.

You swallowed hard before finally speaking again, voice quieter this time. “How did this happen?”

Wonwoo sighed, running a hand through his—your—messy hair. “Same, Y/n… I’m asking too.”

A heavy silence settled between them. Wonwoo—stuck in your body—felt an itch in his brain, an urge to pace around the room in frustration, but he held himself still. Meanwhile, you, trapped in his body, were staring at your—his—hands, clenching and unclenching your fists as if trying to confirm this wasn’t just some fever dream.

“This has to be a nightmare,” you muttered, gripping the blanket draped over your lap. “A really weird, messed-up nightmare.”

Wonwoo sighed sharply, rubbing his temple. “I thought the same thing when I woke up in that damn foster home.”

At his words, you blinked, finally snapping your gaze up to meet his.

“The foster home… Pristine Foster Home?”

“Yeah.” Wonwoo let out a tired huff. “Woke up on some hard-ass mattress in a tiny room, got screamed at by a woman who made me do chores all morning, and then got dragged here because your—” He paused, correcting himself. “—my parents showed up as donors.”

Your expression darkened as you digested his words. “Mrs. Kim must’ve made you clean, didn’t she?”

“Front yard.”

You cringed. “Damn. That’s the worst one.”

Wonwoo scoffed. “Yeah, I figured.” He studied you carefully, watching as you pulled at the hospital blanket, your jaw tightening. “So? What happened to you? How the hell did you end up here?”

You let out a deep breath, shaking your head. “I don’t know. I remember going to bed last night like usual, and then… I woke up here. But obviously, it wasn’t me who got into that accident.”

Wonwoo frowned, trying to recall the events of last night. He had been at Mingyu’s house, strategizing ways to defeat you in the student election. He’d had a couple of beers, but he hadn’t been drunk. He clearly remembered riding home on his bike, arriving at his house, getting into bed…

And then waking up as you.

His fingers twitched as he crossed his arms again. “Nothing weird happened,” he muttered. “At least, nothing that explains this.”

You let out a tired groan, running a hand down your face. “This is insane.”

“No shit.”

Just then, the door to the hospital room creaked open, and both of you snapped your heads toward the entrance.

Wonwoo’s—your—parents stepped back in.

“Honey,” his mother—your mother now—spoke gently, a worried look on her face. “You must be tired. Why don’t you go home and rest?”

Wonwoo felt his pulse quicken. Home? As in your home? The foster home?

His father nodded in agreement. “Yes, dear. We can handle things here. You’ve done enough already.”

Done enough?! What had he done besides get thrown into this mess?

Before he could protest, his mother stepped forward, her hands reaching out to pat his cheek fondly. Wonwoo stiffened instantly. “You’ve always been such a hardworking girl,” she said softly. “It makes me so happy to see you and Wonwoo getting along.”

Wonwoo barely resisted the urge to grimace. He threw you a look, silently screaming, What the hell do I do?! You—trapped in his body—were no help. You simply stared at him, eyes wide, just as lost as he was. And just like that, Wonwoo realized something horrifying. Until they figured out how to switch back…

He was going to have to live as you.

*

Wonwoo stood frozen in front of the bathroom door, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The old wooden door creaked slightly, the dim light from the hallway casting a shadow over the tiled floor inside. The thought of stepping in—of actually taking a bath—made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Because that would mean undressing. Undressing your body. Absolutely not. There was no way in hell he was going to do that. He had morals. Standards. There were just some lines he refused to cross, and this was one of them.

But damn… his body—your body—felt disgusting. The grime from hours of chores clung to his skin. Sweat dried in uncomfortable places, making the oversized sleeping gown stick to him. His hair was an absolute mess, still tangled from the wind earlier, and he could smell the faint scent of dirt and soap from when he’d scrubbed the front yard clean.

Wonwoo groaned, running a hand through his—your—hair in frustration.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” he muttered under his breath.

If he didn’t shower, he’d feel like this all night, and the thought of sleeping in this state made him want to scream. But if he did shower…

He shut his eyes tightly, cursing under his breath.This was hell. Just then, a loud knock on the door startled him.

“Hurry up in there! Other people need the bathroom too, you know!” Mrs. Kim’s sharp voice rang through the hallway, making Wonwoo jolt. He turned his head, glaring at the door.

“Alright, alright!” he snapped back, annoyed.

He exhaled slowly, trying to collect himself.

Fine. He wouldn’t do anything weird. He’d make this as quick and moral as possible. No unnecessary looking, no thinking too hard about it. Just in, out, and done.

Steeling himself, Wonwoo reached for the doorknob, swallowing hard before stepping inside. This was going to be the most uncomfortable bath of his life.

Wonwoo tried his best not to look. He focused on the feeling of the water against his skin, rubbing the soap over your—his—body as quickly as possible. The sooner this was over, the better. His movements were stiff, awkward, and mechanical. He kept his eyes trained on the tiles, avoiding even a glance downward. Just soap, rinse, and get out. That was the plan.

But then—

His hand ran over his back, and a sharp sting shot through him. Wonwoo froze.

What the hell?

His stomach churned at the thought.

Wonwoo quickly rinsed off and turned off the water. He grabbed a towel, drying off haphazardly before stepping out of the bathroom. The moment he found a small, cracked mirror in the hallway, he twisted his body, angling himself to get a look at his back.

Wonwoo’s breath hitched as he finally caught a glimpse of his—your—back in the cracked mirror. His brows furrowed, and his fingers twitched at his sides.

His chest tightened.

His mind raced as he tried to recall everything that had happened since he woke up in your body. Wonwoo gritted his teeth.

What the hell happened to you, Ji Y/n? And why did he have a bad feeling that this was just the beginning of something bigger?

*

Wonwoo stormed through the front doors of his house, shoulders tense as he stomped up the grand staircase. His whole body—your body—felt sore and exhausted from the insane day he'd just had. The security at the gate had nearly dragged him out, refusing to believe that the Ji Y/n in front of them was actually their young master, Jeon Wonwoo.

"You have no idea how much I had to beg the security to let me in," he grumbled as he yanked open the bedroom door, stepping inside with an annoyed scowl.

Inside, you—in his body—stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. It was jarring, watching his own body move with hesitation, looking completely out of place in the very room he had lived in for years. The moment your eyes landed on him, your shoulders sagged in relief. "Finally—I thought you were never coming back."

Wonwoo scoffed, shutting the door behind him. "I thought I was never coming back. You think it’s easy walking into my mansion looking like you? The guards almost threw me out!"

"You live here," you shot back, exasperated. "You could’ve just walked in—why did you make this harder?"

Wonwoo gave you a deadpan look. "Oh, sure, let me just casually waltz in while looking like someone who doesn’t belong here. I looked like a lost delivery worker!" He threw his hands up, pacing the room. "Do you know how humiliating that was?"

Your frown deepened. "At least you weren’t forced to do laundry and yard work for an entire foster home full of children. Mrs. Kim practically used me as free labor."

Wonwoo turned to you, unimpressed. "Yeah? Well, I woke up in a hospital bed, covered in injuries, and had to sit through my own parents looking at me like I was their long-lost daughter."

Your mouth opened slightly, then shut. "…Touché."

Silence fell between you two, the weight of the situation settling in.

After a moment, Wonwoo groaned, rubbing his temples. "Alright. We need to figure out what the hell happened and how to fix it."

You nodded, though your expression was still tense. "Agreed. But where do we even start?"

Wonwoo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "Let’s think. What’s the last thing you remember before we… switched?"

Wonwoo leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed as his brows furrowed in frustration. No matter how much you both racked your brains, there was no logical explanation for why you'd switched bodies. There was no accident, no weird mystical event—just a normal night before waking up in each other’s skin.

"This is ridiculous," Wonwoo muttered, shaking his head. "It’s like some cheap fantasy movie plot, except it’s actually happening to us."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "I know. And I hate to admit it, but I don’t think we’re going to figure this out tonight."

Wonwoo scoffed. "Yeah? Well, in the meantime, I’m not going back to that foster home and working my ass off like some unpaid worker." He turned to you with a pointed look. "You call my parents. Tell them to let you stay here until we switch back."

Your eyebrows shot up. "What? Why me? That’s your job!"

"I can’t exactly call them in your voice and say, ‘Hey, I’m actually Wonwoo, let me stay at my mansion until further notice.’ They’ll think I’ve lost my mind."

You groaned, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. "Fine. But if they say no, you’re on your own."

Wonwoo smirked. "Trust me. My mom loves you. She won’t say no."

You stared at Wonwoo’s phone in your hands, your thumb hesitating over the contact labeled Mom. The plan was simple: call his parents, pretend to be him, and ask if you—which meant him in your body—could stay over until this mess was sorted out.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

You cleared your throat and pressed call. The phone barely rang twice before his mother answered, her voice warm yet slightly distracted. "Wonwoo? It’s late. What is it?"

You shot Wonwoo a look, and he gestured impatiently for you to just talk.

"Uh—yeah. Mom. I, uh, wanted to ask if Y/n could stay over for a few days?"

There was a beat of silence. Then she hummed, as if turning the idea over in her head. "Y/n?" she repeated, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity now. "Why?"

Your mouth opened, but no excuse came to mind. You hadn’t thought that far. You shot Wonwoo a desperate look, but he just folded his arms, watching in amusement.

The silence stretched, and then, to your horror, his mother let out a knowing sigh. "I see… So it’s like that."

Your brows furrowed. "Like what?"

"You finally brought a girl home."

Wonwoo choked.

You nearly dropped the phone. "Wait, what?"

"It’s fine, Wonwoo. You’re an adult. If you’re serious about this girl, I won’t say anything. Just make sure you’re being responsible."

Wonwoo was now aggressively shaking his head at you, mouthing fix it!, but you were too stunned to respond properly.

"Uh—yeah," you stammered, scrambling to end the conversation. "So… she can stay?"

His mother chuckled softly. "Of course. Have the staff set up a room for her. Your father and I will be out of town, but tell her she’s welcome."

And with that, the call ended.

You lowered the phone slowly, turning to Wonwoo with wide eyes.

"You finally brought a girl home?" you repeated in disbelief.

Wonwoo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "This is a nightmare."

You stared at the phone in disbelief. "That’s it?"

Wonwoo let out a humorless chuckle. "What did you expect? A heartfelt conversation?" He snatched the phone from your hand and stuffed it in his pocket. "They’re barely home as it is. They probably don’t even care who stays over."

The bitterness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

You decided not to comment on it. Instead, you sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, at least that worked. Now get out of here before Mrs. Kim drags me—I mean, you—back inside for more chores."

Wonwoo groaned but grabbed his things and left.

As you settled into his massive, empty house, you couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t much of a home at all.

*

The next morning, you both stood in front of Wonwoo’s sleek black car, staring at it like it was the final boss of this entire ridiculous situation. "You drive," you said, tossing him the keys. Wonwoo caught them but immediately scowled at you. "You drive. It’s my car."

You folded your arms. "I don’t even have a license, genius." His jaw clenched. He looked at the keys, then at the car, then at you—his own body. "You mean to tell me that after all the times you acted like you’re better than me, you can’t even drive?"

"Driving doesn’t determine intelligence, Jeon." You rolled your eyes. "Are we going to school or not?"

Grumbling, he unlocked the car and got into the driver’s seat. You slid into the passenger seat, watching with barely contained amusement as he adjusted everything—pushing the seat forward, adjusting the rearview mirror, lowering the steering wheel.

"This is so uncomfortable," he muttered, shifting in the seat. His knees were practically up to his chest. You smirked. "What? Is my body too small for your big manly car?"

Wonwoo shot you a glare before turning the ignition. The car rumbled to life, and he carefully pressed the gas pedal—only for the car to jerk forward suddenly, causing both of you to lurch.

"YAH!" you yelped, clutching the dashboard. "Are you trying to kill me—yourself—whatever?"

Wonwoo exhaled through his nose, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Your legs are too damn short! I can’t feel the pedal properly!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Now you know my struggles."

After a few more rough starts, Wonwoo finally managed to get the car moving smoothly. The drive to school was tense at first, but as he adjusted, his usual confidence returned. You, on the other hand, were dreading what was to come.

As soon as you arrived, all eyes would be on him—or rather, you. And there was nothing either of you could do about it. The night before, you and Wonwoo had spent hours sitting in his room, going over the rules of survival until you switched back.

1. Don’t tell anyone about the situation.

"Not even Mingyu?" you had asked.

"Especially not Mingyu," Wonwoo had deadpanned. "He’ll make this a circus."

2. Act normal, even to each other.

"You mean I have to be cold and unbothered like you?" you had teased.

"And I have to act like you?" Wonwoo had shot back. "All smiles and fake pleasantries? Great."

3. Avoid attention.

This one was the most important. The last thing either of you needed was people noticing something was off.

Now, standing at the entrance of the university, those rules felt like an impossible mission. You watched as Wonwoo—you—stepped out of the car, adjusting the oversized hoodie he had thrown on. It was strange seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes, and even weirder seeing how awkward he looked in your body.

"Stop slouching," you hissed under your breath. "I don’t walk like that." Wonwoo shot you a glare but straightened his posture. "And stop staring at your feet. It’s weird." With that, the two of you walked through campus, forcing yourselves to act normal. It was fine. Until the first person called your name.

"Y/n!"

You froze before realizing it wasn’t actually you they were calling—it was Wonwoo, in your body. Wonwoo sighed, forcing a smile that was so stiff it looked painful. "Uh… morning?"

Your friend frowned. "Are you okay? You sound weird."

You nearly facepalmed. Rule number two, idiot!

Wonwoo quickly cleared his throat and attempted to sound more like you. "I mean—uh, I’m fine! Just, um, tired!" He gave a thumbs-up that looked completely unnatural.

Your friend tilted their head but didn’t press further. You exhaled in relief, but it was short-lived. Because at that moment, the worst possible person appeared.

Mingyu.

And he was heading straight for you.

Mingyu approached with a wide grin, his usual energy radiating off him like a beacon. "Wonwoo! Y/n! What’s up?"

You barely had time to react before Mingyu threw an arm around your shoulders—except it wasn’t you, it was Wonwoo trapped in your body. Wonwoo went stiff immediately.

You saw it, the way his entire body tensed, the way his hands twitched like he wanted to shove Mingyu off but was holding back. You couldn’t blame him. You wouldn’t like Mingyu suddenly draping himself over you either. But—

"Are you okay?" Mingyu suddenly leaned down, squinting at Wonwoo’s face. "You look kinda… different today."

You nearly choked. Crap.

You forced a tight-lipped smile. "Haha. No, I’m good. Totally fine." You flinched at how unnatural that sounded.

Mingyu narrowed his eyes. "You sure? You don’t usually stand this stiff. And your voice sounds weird. And you—"

"He said he's fine," Wonwoo cut in, voice strained.

You quickly jumped in before Mingyu could keep interrogating. "Just tired. We were studying late last night."

Mingyu looked between the two of you, lips pursed. Then suddenly, his eyes widened. "Wait a second."

You both froze.

He pointed at the two of you. "Did something happen between you two?"

Wonwoo stiffened. "What?"

Mingyu gasped dramatically. "Are you two dating now?"

"WHAT?!" you both yelled in unison.

Mingyu took a step back, hands up in defense. "Geez! Sorry, it’s just—lately, you guys seem different. Studying together? Walking into campus together? Y/n’s acting weird, Wonwoo’s looking more tired than usual—it’s suspicious!"

Wonwoo turned to you with a glare, mouthing, Fix this.

You gritted your teeth before turning to Mingyu with a forced laugh. "No, no! We’re not dating. We just—uh—had to work on something together, that’s all!" Mingyu squinted at you—well, at Wonwoo’s body. “Work on what?”

“None of your business,” you snapped, crossing your arms. Mingyu blinked at your sharp tone but shrugged. “Okay, whatever. Anyway, why are you heading that way? Our class is upstairs.”

You froze for a split second. Right. You were supposed to have class with Mingyu—as Wonwoo. But out of habit, you had started walking toward your usual class instead.

Wonwoo, standing beside you in your body, subtly elbowed you. “Uh—he’s just, uh, walking me to class first,” he quickly interjected.

Mingyu’s brows furrowed as he looked between the two of you. “Since when do you do that?” You cleared your throat, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Since today. Got a problem?”

Mingyu narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, actually. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

Wonwoo shot you a look, silently pleading with you to play it cool. Taking a deep breath, you forced a casual shrug. “I just felt like it. Can we go now?” Mingyu crossed his arms, clearly unconvinced. “Weird. Really weird.”

You resisted the urge to sigh. If Mingyu was already suspicious, keeping this switch a secret was going to be harder than you thought.

*

After surviving the day without slipping up—at least, not too badly—you and Wonwoo finally made it back home. The moment you stepped inside, you groaned, throwing yourself onto the couch while Wonwoo shut the door behind him.

"That was exhausting," you muttered, rubbing your temples. "Do you know how hard it is pretending to be you? You barely talk to anyone, but somehow people still pay attention to you."

Wonwoo scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. "And do you know how annoying it is to be you? Everyone just randomly talks to me, and I have to pretend I actually care about their gossip. Even your professors are so chatty. One of them asked me if I was doing okay in business class. Do you struggle that much?"

You glared at him. "Excuse me, but business studies is not my major. You expect me to be a genius at it?" Wonwoo shook his head before his gaze sharpened. "Speaking of weird conversations, what's up with Mingyu?"

You blinked. "What about him?"

"He’s too friendly with you. I didn’t know you were close," he said, narrowing his eyes slightly. You shrugged. "He's just been kind to me since senior high school."

Wonwoo frowned at that. "Why? You two don’t seem like the type to be friends."

You hesitated for a moment before sighing. "It’s... a long story. Back then, Mingyu was the first person to find out that I wasn't actually the child of some entertainment industry mogul like the rumors said. He was the only one who knew I was orphaned and living in a foster home."

Wonwoo stiffened slightly. He had never heard that before. He had always thought you were just naturally secretive and didn’t like discussing your personal life. But this—this was different.

He didn’t know why, but the thought of Mingyu knowing something so personal about you before him left a strange feeling in his chest.

Wonwoo sat down across from you, his expression unreadable. "So… you grew up in a foster home. How did that happen?"

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I was placed there when I was a kid. I don’t remember much about my parents—just bits and pieces. They passed away when I was young, and after that, I ended up in Pristine Foster Home."

He nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "And school? Our school isn’t exactly easy to get into. How did you afford it?" A small, almost ironic smile tugged at your lips. "Your mother."

Wonwoo blinked. "What?"

"Your mother," you repeated. "Mrs. Jeon. She’s one of the biggest donors for Pristine Foster Home. Every year, she funds scholarships for students with high academic potential. I was one of the kids who got lucky."

For the first time, Wonwoo was at a loss for words. His mother? The same woman who barely had time for her own son had been funding your education all this time?

"You… never told anyone?" he asked after a moment. You shrugged. "Why would I? People already made enough assumptions about me. If they found out the truth, I’d just become a pity case. Besides, it’s not like your mom personally chose me. I was just another name on the scholarship list."

Wonwoo was still trying to process this new information. He had spent years seeing you as a rival, someone always on his heels, challenging his top position. But now, for the first time, he saw you in a different light.

"So all this time," he muttered, "you were working twice as hard just to stay in school."

You huffed a quiet laugh. "More than twice, actually."

He didn't know why, but something about that unsettled him.

*

The days went by with both of you struggling to adapt to each other’s lives while keeping up the act. The campaign phase for the student president selection had officially started, and since you were both candidates, you agreed to stay professional about it.

"Don't play dirty," you both promised.

That meant being responsible for each other's campaigns. If someone asked you about Wonwoo’s stance on school policies, he had to answer correctly. If someone questioned him about your plans for student well-being, you had to handle it.

There were three candidates in total. Wonwoo—the top student, known for his intelligence and efficiency. You—the representative of female students, admired for both brains and beauty. And Seungcheol—the rich, well-connected candidate who could probably win just by flashing his wealth.

“You’re acting weird,” Mingyu said, narrowing his eyes at you—or rather, at Wonwoo’s body, which meant he was technically squinting at him. You, stuck in his body, stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Mingyu tilted his head, studying him. “You’re being… polite. Too polite. Wonwoo, you usually glare at everyone, but today? You literally smiled at Soonyoung when he called you ‘princess.’” You, sitting in Wonwoo’s body, internally cringed. Right. You had forgotten about that.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo was struggling just as much to keep up with your usual attitude.

“Y/n, are you okay?” one of your classmates asked, frowning as they observed Wonwoo’s body. “You’ve been acting so… serious today.”

Wonwoo barely looked up from the book in front of him. “I’m fine.”

She stared at him, unconvinced. “Uh… you didn’t even whine about how boring today’s lesson is.”

He cursed internally. Right. You always complained about morning classes.

“I’m… trying to be a better student,” he muttered.

She gave a slow nod, still eyeing him suspiciously.

It wasn’t just your friends who were growing suspicious. Professors had started noticing the odd behavior, too. You had always been confident in subjects like marketing and communication, but the moment you sat in Wonwoo’s business economics class, you knew you were doomed.

“Mr. Jeon,” the professor called out, peering at you over his glasses. “Could you summarize the concept of supply and demand in market equilibrium?”

Your mind went blank. Market equilibrium?

You hesitated, scanning the board for hints, but nothing made sense. Silence stretched across the room. The professor raised an eyebrow.

“Uh… equilibrium… is when things are equal…?” you blurted out.

The entire class turned to stare at you in horror. Even Mingyu, sitting beside you, looked concerned. The professor let out a long sigh. “Mr. Jeon, I expected better from you.”

Meanwhile, Wonwoo was having an equally hard time in your marketing class.

“Miss Ji,” the professor called. “Could you give an example of a successful emotional branding strategy?”

Wonwoo froze. Emotional branding? He knew numbers. He knew statistics. But marketing?

“Uh…” He cleared his throat. “Emotional branding is… when a brand… makes people emotional?”

The professor’s expression remained unreadable. Wonwoo held his breath. “…Technically not wrong,” the professor finally said. “But please elaborate next time.”

Wonwoo exhaled in relief, but he could still feel the judgmental stares of your classmates. Keeping up appearances was exhausting.

You had to remember to act cold, distant, and borderline unapproachable. Every time someone approached you—well, Wonwoo’s body—you had to force yourself not to smile too much.

When you accidentally giggled at a joke Seungkwan made during lunch, he nearly choked on his drink.

“Whoa. Wonwoo, you laughed?”

You immediately straightened your face. “No, I didn’t.”

Seungkwan’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, you did. That was a full-on giggle.”

Meanwhile, Wonwoo was struggling with the opposite problem.

He had to force himself to be approachable. Smile more. Nod during small talk. When someone complimented you on your campaign, he barely responded before remembering that you were supposed to be charismatic.

“Ah… yeah. Thank you,” he muttered awkwardly.

The girl who had complimented you blinked. “Uh… you’re welcome?”

It was painfully obvious something was off.

But despite the challenges, Wonwoo started thinking.

There was an opportunity here.

If he was in your body… and people naturally liked you… then why not use that to his advantage?

You had a way with people. Students admired you. If he played this correctly, he could subtly steer people toward supporting his campaign—without outright sabotaging yours.

It wasn’t cheating.

It was just… strategic use of circumstances.

Sitting in the cafeteria, he overheard a group of students discussing the election. Some were loyal to Seungcheol because of his family’s wealth. Some admired your leadership. But a few were still undecided, considering Wonwoo’s intelligence but unsure about his approachability.

“If only Wonwoo was a little more… open,” one student mused.

“Yeah, he’s brilliant, but he’s kinda cold,” another agreed.

Wonwoo’s lips curled slightly. An opportunity.

The next time he (in your body) spoke to people, he made subtle shifts in conversation.

“Wonwoo’s been under so much pressure lately,” he said casually.

“You know, he doesn’t show it, but he really cares about the school.”

“He’s just not the type to express it openly, but he’s been working hard behind the scenes.”

He didn’t need to lie. He just needed to frame the truth in a way that made people sympathetic.

If students thought he (as himself) was struggling under pressure, they might rally behind him. They might see him as someone deserving of their votes.

And the best part?

No one would suspect manipulation.

Wonwoo adjusted the strap of your bag on his shoulder, casually strolling through the hallway while eavesdropping on conversations. He was getting better at this. Being in your body had its advantages—people naturally gravitated toward you. They trusted you. They listened to you.

So why not use that to his advantage?

As the election campaign heated up, students began discussing the candidates more openly. Seungcheol was securing votes through his endless connections, practically drowning the school in expensive flyers and promotional videos. Meanwhile, your campaign was gaining momentum thanks to your charisma, intelligence, and undeniable appeal.

But Wonwoo?

People respected him but hesitated to support him because of his reserved nature. He needed to change that perception—without breaking his promise to you about playing fair.

So, he started subtly influencing opinions.

During lunch, he sat with a group of students he knew were undecided. He (in your body) let out a sigh, tilting his head thoughtfully.

"You know, Wonwoo doesn’t really show it, but he’s been so dedicated to this campaign," he mused.

A girl across the table looked up. "Really?"

Wonwoo (as you) nodded. "Yeah. I think people misunderstand him. He’s just not the type to brag about his efforts. But I know for a fact that he’s been working late nights planning policies for the school. He doesn’t just want the title—he actually wants to make changes."

Another student leaned in, interested. "I always thought he was a bit distant. Like, he doesn’t really care about people."

Wonwoo let out a small, knowing smile. "That’s not true at all. He’s just not good at expressing it. But if you really talk to him, you’ll see how much he genuinely wants what’s best for the school."

Hook. Line. Sinker.

The students exchanged glances, suddenly reconsidering their stance.

Wonwoo wasn’t lying. He had been working hard, and he did care. But he knew that if he had tried to say all of this in his own body, people would just assume he was defending himself.

But coming from you? Someone they trusted and admired?

It felt genuine.

He kept this strategy up, slipping subtle remarks into conversations, framing his strengths in a way that didn’t sound forced.

At the library, when a group of students discussed who they should vote for, he (as you) casually said,

"Honestly, Wonwoo is the only one who’s actually proposing policies based on data instead of just saying what people want to hear."

At a student council meeting, when people debated about which candidate had the best leadership skills, he (as you) shrugged, "Wonwoo may not talk much, but he’s the most capable. He’s been top of his class for years. If anyone can handle responsibilities, it’s him."

And it worked.

Slowly but surely, more students began considering Wonwoo as a serious contender.

Of course, he had to be careful not to overdo it. If you suddenly became too much of a Wonwoo supporter, people might get suspicious.

So, every now and then, he would slip in a neutral or positive remark about you as well, just to balance things out.

"Y/n is amazing, though. She’s got that natural leadership aura."

"I think between Y/n and Wonwoo, we’d be in good hands either way."

Seungcheol was still dominating with his flashy campaign, but now?

Wonwoo had momentum.

*

Meanwhile, you were starting to notice something was off. At the end of the day, you crossed your arms, watching Wonwoo—well, your body—scribbling something in your campaign notes.

"Why do I feel like you’ve been too invested in my popularity?" you mused, raising an eyebrow.

Wonwoo barely looked up. "I have no idea what you’re talking about." You narrowed your eyes. "Wonwoo."

He sighed, closing the notebook. "Look, I’m just… taking advantage of an opportunity. It’s not cheating—I’m just rebranding myself a little."

"Rebranding?" you repeated, appalled. "You’re using my face to market yourself!"

He leaned back against the chair. "Technically, I’m not lying about anything. I am working hard. I do have solid policies. People just… needed a little push to see that."

You groaned, running a hand through your hair—well, his hair. "I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you."

Wonwoo smirked. "Oh, please. You promised we’d be fair to each other. I never said I wouldn’t be smart about it."

You scoffed, muttering under your breath. "I hate you."

"That’s unfortunate," he said, flipping open your campaign notes again, "because I think I really like being you."

A week.

It had been a week of waking up in Wonwoo’s body, wearing his oversized clothes, walking around with his permanently unimpressed face, and trying to keep up with his ridiculous level of intelligence in class.

You were exhausted.

If this continued any longer, you were going to need therapy.

Wonwoo, sitting on his bed (in your body), smirked. "Oh? Having a hard time living as me?"

You shot him a glare. "You live like this every day? No offense, but it sucks."

"None taken," he said easily. "I’m used to it."

You groaned again, burying your face in your arms. "At this point, I’m just praying we switch back before I completely lose my mind."

Wonwoo hummed, flipping through his phone. "Well, at least you don’t have to deal with your own expenses anymore."

You lifted your head. "Huh?"

He smirked. "I checked your bank balance, Y/n. You’re broke. You can’t even afford new panties."

Your face burned in embarrassment. "Excuse me?!"

Wonwoo laughed, shaking his head. "Relax, I didn’t actually look. But seriously, where does all your money go? I heard my mom has been funding you for years, so what are you spending it on?"

Your expression darkened, but you didn’t answer.

Wonwoo noticed the shift in your demeanor and frowned slightly. "Hey—"

The two of you froze the moment you heard sounds.

Wonwoo’s parents were home.

His mother was sitting in the living room, casually sipping tea, while his father was reading the newspaper. They looked up simultaneously, eyes landing on you first.

"Oh, Y/n," his mother greeted warmly, setting her cup down. "You’re two home already."

Wonwoo—inside your body—stiffened beside you.

You, standing in his body, forced a polite nod. "Uh… yeah. Classes ended a little early today."

His mother smiled. "That’s good. Come, sit down. I was just about to ask chef to prepare some snacks."

Your heart pounded. You had interacted with Wonwoo’s mother plenty of times before, but never while pretending to be her son. One wrong move, and she would know something was off.

You shot a quick glance at Wonwoo, silently screaming, What do I do?!

He only shrugged. Figure it out.

You resisted the urge to strangle him.

His father, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. "Wonwoo, I heard you’ve been doing well in the election campaign."

You tensed. "Uh… yeah. I guess so."

He nodded approvingly. "Good. If you want to take over the family business one day, this is a good step toward leadership."

You nearly choked. Take over the family business?!

You hadn’t even considered that part of being in Wonwoo’s body.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo, still in your body, sat stiffly on the couch, looking incredibly awkward. You could tell he was doing his best not to react too much.

His mother turned to him. "Y/n, dear, how has Wonwoo been treating you?"

Wonwoo snapped out of his daze. "Huh?"

She smiled gently. "You know, since you’ve been staying here. Has he been a good host?"

Wonwoo blinked. Then, ever so slowly, he smirked.

"Oh, he’s been great," he said smoothly. "Super considerate. Always making sure I’m comfortable. Really making my stay… interesting."

Your eye twitched.

His mother beamed. "That’s wonderful! I always tell him to be more thoughtful toward others."

You clenched your fists. I am going to kill him.

His father, however, was more focused on you. "Wonwoo, I heard you had an important presentation in class today. How did it go?"

Your soul left your body.

Presentation?!

You turned slightly to Wonwoo, panic written all over your face.

He smirked again, clearly enjoying your suffering.

You were so screwed.

*

Dinner with the Jeons was awkward.

You had eaten with his family before, but this time, it felt different. Because this time, you were him. Wonwoo—trapped in your body—sat stiffly across from you, barely touching his food. He was oddly silent, his usual sharp remarks absent. It was almost as if he wasn’t the son of this house at all.

Meanwhile, you tried your best to act like a son. You engaged in small talk with his mother, attempting to mirror the way a child might converse with a parent.

His mother, elegant and poised as ever, seemed pleased by your effort. You knew her well—after all, she had been funding you since junior high school. Yet, you had never had the chance to sit this close, to talk to her as though you belonged at this table.

It felt foreign.

The clinking of silverware against porcelain filled the silence between occasional remarks. Then, just as you were starting to relax, a phone rang.

His mother glanced at the caller ID. "Oh… why is Mrs. Kim calling?"

You froze.

Wonwoo saw the way your shoulders tensed, how your grip on the chopsticks tightened.

Mrs. Kim.

Why was she calling?

Wonwoo felt his own chest tighten with something uncomfortable. It was strange—seeing his own body react so visibly to that name.

He swallowed.

No.

Not in a quadrillion years would he go back to that place. That stinky foster home. That cramped space filled with too many kids, too little food, and too much responsibility.

He refused.

He stared at his mother as she stood up and stepped away from the dining table to take the call, her voice soft yet unreadable.

The seconds dragged on.

Neither of you spoke, but the air in the room had shifted.

When his mother finally returned to her seat, something was different. Her expression wasn’t as lighthearted as before.

She placed her napkin down carefully, looking directly at Wonwoo—who was still in your body.

"Y/n," she said gently, her tone firm yet concerned. "Tell me the truth."

Your stomach twisted.

She folded her hands together. "Why have you been staying here for a week?" A pause. "Be honest."

Wonwoo turned to look at you, his throat tightening.

You looked back at him, equally frozen.

The two of you, sitting in each other’s bodies, mirrored each other’s nervousness so perfectly that if anyone had been watching closely, they might have noticed something was wrong.

You could feel your pulse in your ears. His mother’s eyes were sharp, expectant, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure how to give.

Wonwoo—trapped in your body—swallowed hard. His mind raced for an explanation, something that would make sense. But every possible response felt weak under the weight of his mother’s gaze.

You, meanwhile, could feel your palms sweating.

His mother’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Mrs. Kim said you ran away from the foster home after stealing her money.”

"No, she didn't steal anything."

His mother’s gaze snapped toward Wonwoo—toward you. “Do you know something, Wonwoo?”

You hesitated, words catching in the throat. You wanted to say something, but how much could you actually say? His mother didn’t know the truth about the switch, and if you weren't careful, things could get worse.

"I mean..." You started, choosing your words carefully. "Mrs. Kim never really liked her. She's probably just trying to make her look bad so she can take her back."

His mother frowned. "Is that true, Y/n? Mrs. Kim is lying?"

Wonwoo—you—tensed.

You swallowed hard, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleeves. You couldn’t say it outright. You couldn’t risk making things worse. But at the same time, you didn’t want to go back.

"Mrs. Kim..." You shifted in your seat. "She’s never been very fond of her. She always saw her as a burden. And, well..." You forced a weak chuckle. "Let’s just say she has her own way of handling things."

His mother’s expression darkened slightly. "What do you mean?"

You glanced at Wonwoo, at your own face, searching for some kind of lifeline. Wonwoo was watching you closely, his lips pressed in a tight line.

"I—" You exhaled. "There was something more complex and Y/n couldn't just explain it to you."

Silence hung in the air for a beat too long. His mother’s gaze was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—concern? Realization?

Wonwoo—inside your body—shifted uncomfortably, gripping the hem of his sweater. He had never thought about what your life was like before. But now, watching you struggle to speak about it, he felt something churn in his gut.

"Mrs. Kim said she wants you to come back," his mother said, her tone quieter now. "If what you're saying is true, then tell me—do you want to go back?"

You inhaled sharply.

And for the first time since the switch, Wonwoo saw something in your eyes that he wasn’t sure he had ever seen before.

Fear.

*

Wonwoo, still trapped in your body, stepped into his own bedroom. It felt strange, standing there as someone else—seeing his familiar space from a different perspective. Normally, this was where he slept, but since his parents were home, he had to take the guest room. The one you usually stayed in.

Leaning against the doorframe, he folded his arms and watched you—watched himself—working on a marketing project. He hated marketing. He hated everything about it. But he knew you were doing it for him, for the presentation he had to give in front of your class tomorrow.

"About earlier…" he started, his voice quieter than before.

You didn't look up, fingers continuing to type away on the laptop.

"Is it true Mrs. Kim doesn’t like you?"

The sound of your typing stuttered for a second. Wonwoo caught the slight pause before you resumed.

"You can be honest with me, you know," he pressed, stepping further into the room. "I mean… I deserve to know. Since I’m you at the moment."

Still, you didn't answer. Your expression remained focused, determinedly avoiding his gaze.

Wonwoo exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. His voice dropped slightly.

"Is she the one who gave you that wound on your back?"

This time, you finally looked at him.

Your eyes were unreadable.

Wonwoo felt something uneasy settle in his chest. He had never thought about where the scar had come from. He had seen it, felt the sting of it when he moved, but he hadn’t questioned it. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to.

"Is it true?" he asked again, voice firmer now. "She hit you?"

You lowered your gaze.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, you nodded.

"I’m sorry that you had to bear that."

Wonwoo swallowed. His hands curled into fists at his sides, but he forced himself to stay composed.

He shrugged, as if trying to make light of the weight in his chest, and walked toward the bed. "The staff helped me with ointment. She asked if you had been hit by someone. Like… physically abused."

You didn’t respond right away, but your silence spoke louder than words.

Wonwoo sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his own reflection in the mirror across the room.

He thought about Mrs. Kim. About what kind of person she really was.

And for the first time since this whole body-swapping nightmare began…

He realized that maybe, just maybe, there were worse things than waking up in someone else’s life.

Like living in a life you never chose… and having no way out.

"Let me see… How bad is it?"

You stood from your seat and turned to him. Wonwoo, still in your body, looked up from the bed, brows raised in alarm.

"What?"

You blinked. "Let me see."

A heat crept up his face. "No!" His hands shot up defensively, arms crossed over his chest as if shielding himself.

You rolled your eyes—his eyes. "That’s my body, technically."

"And you’ll be looking at it with my eyes," Wonwoo argued, scooting a little further away from where you stood, hands still up in defense.

"As if you’ve never touched my boobs during a shower," you shot back, unimpressed.

Wonwoo gasped, scandalized. "I’ve been very careful and respectful, for your information," he retorted, voice full of righteous indignation. He narrowed his eyes at you. "And I’d appreciate it if you did the same for mine."

You snorted. "No, seriously, let me see. I don’t remember getting one on my back."

Before Wonwoo could protest again, you turned him around—your own body—and lifted the hem of his shirt.

He let out a sharp squeal, but you ignored it, your attention now focused on the sight before you.

The bruises were in various stages of healing—some faded, others still dark and angry-looking. A deep blue one spread across the lower part of your back, as if someone had struck you with full force. You hadn’t even realized how bad it was. Seeing it now, so clearly, made something inside you twist.

"That’s… brutal," you muttered. It was the first time you had seen the extent of the damage, the history of pain that had accumulated over the years in that foster home.

Wonwoo quickly yanked the shirt back down and turned to face you, his expression serious. "Is Mrs. Kim the one behind all of them?" His voice had lost its teasing edge, replaced by something far heavier—concern, maybe even anger.

You hesitated.

"It’s… a punishment. Everyone got that. I just got a lot more than the others." You took a deep breath.

"Why?"

You shrugged. "I lived there the longest. No one adopted me, so I stayed there for years."

Wonwoo blinked, trying to process that. You had endured this for years? His mind reeled.

"But my mom…"

You shook your head, gaze dropping to the floor. "She just funded me."

It was true—Wonwoo’s mother had funded your education, sending you to an elite private high school and later helping you get into an Ivy League university. But no one ever knew where you came from. Your background had been carefully concealed, your identity kept a secret.

And yet, despite all those privileges, Mrs. Kim had never let you leave the foster home. It was only later that you realized why. The money meant for you had never truly been yours—it had gone straight into her personal bank account. She had given you just enough to cover small personal expenses, but nothing close to what a college student actually needed.

In return, she had assigned you to endless chores, justifying it by saying she had raised you. The truth, however, was much simpler. No one had adopted you, not because they didn’t want to, but because she had made sure of it. You had been nothing more than a source of steady income to her.

Wonwoo exhaled, rubbing his temples. "I don’t want to go back," he muttered. His voice was quieter now, but the weight of his words was undeniable. "It was only a day. But it felt like a day in hell."

You looked at him for a long moment before stepping closer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I’ll talk to your parents," you promised. "I’ll make sure you can stay here until we swap back. Don’t worry."

Wonwoo stared at you, still in his body, before nodding. For once, he didn’t argue.

*

You knocked on Wonwoo’s bedroom door Monday morning, already irritated. Both of you had class in an hour, and since he had to drive, he needed to wake up. Now.

"Wonwoo, get up!" you called, knocking harder. Silence.

With a sigh, you pushed the door open—only to find him curled up in a tight fetal position, clutching his stomach like he’d just been mortally wounded.

You blinked. "What are you doing?"

He barely lifted his head. "Dying."

It took you exactly three seconds to realize what was happening.

Your period was coming.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. "Ohhh. So, how’s it feel?"

"How’s it feel?!" Wonwoo wheezed, shifting slightly—only to immediately wince and curl up tighter. "I feel like someone’s wringing out my insides like a soaked rag while kicking my spine. This is inhumane. You live like this?!"

You shrugged. "Every month."

"Every month?! This happens every month?! For how long?!"

"About five days."

"Five—" He buried his face into the pillow and groaned loudly. "I can’t do this. I can’t live like this. How do women even function? How do you go to school, work, BREATHE?"

"You get used to it." You rolled your eyes before getting a small heating pad packet you’d picked up from the convenience store few days ago, tossing it onto the bed. "Here. Stick this on your stomach."

He eyed it suspiciously. "What is this?"

"A heat patch. It’ll help with the cramps."

He struggled to sit up, tearing open the packet with shaking hands before slapping the patch onto his lower stomach. A few seconds later, he exhaled in relief, sinking back onto the bed. "Oh. Oh, that’s—" He let out a soft, almost embarrassing noise. "Nice."

You raised an eyebrow. "Did you just moan?"

"Shut up."

You snickered before heading for the door. "I’ll get you some painkillers. You have ten minutes before I drag you out of bed."

"I’m not gonna make it," he groaned, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. "Just leave me here to die."

You smirked. "Get up, or I’ll make your body buy pads in broad daylight."

His eyes snapped open in pure terror.

You had never seen him sit up so fast.

As the day went on, the pain dulled to a manageable ache, but Wonwoo was still visibly uncomfortable. He kept shifting in his seat, frowning every few minutes, and muttering curses under his breath. At one point, he glared at you as if this was somehow your fault.

By the evening, his parents were preparing to leave the city again. The two of you stood at the entrance, watching as his father loaded their luggage into the car. His mother straightened Wonwoo’s—your—collar before stepping back with a warm smile.

"Take care of yourself, Y/n. And you too, Wonwoo. Don’t forget to review those documents I sent over for your internship."

His father adjusted his watch and turned to you—well, to Wonwoo. "We’ll talk more when I’m back, but I trust you’ll take this internship seriously. It’s time for you to step up."

You blinked. What internship?

Your head snapped toward Wonwoo—who was standing beside you in your body—only to see him freeze like a deer caught in headlights. His wide eyes screamed I forgot to tell you about this.

"Uh..." You cleared your throat, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Right. Of course."

Wonwoo's father nodded approvingly. "Good. This is an important step. You’ll be working directly with the executive team to prepare for your role in the company."

Your role? What role?

You stole another glance at Wonwoo, your face silently asking What the hell is he talking about?

Wonwoo, in your body, gave you a strained smile and the tiniest shake of his head, as if saying, Later. Just nod and agree.

So you did. Hesitantly. "Yeah. Got it."

His father clapped a hand on your shoulder, almost knocking the air out of you. "That’s what I like to hear. Make me proud."

You forced a smile, though internally, you were screaming.

After a few more goodbyes, his parents got into the car and drove away. The moment they were out of sight, you turned to Wonwoo, arms crossed.

"What. Internship."

Wonwoo groaned, rubbing his temples. "God, I was hoping you wouldn’t hear that."

"Well, I did. And now you’re gonna explain."

"It’s just some stupid business internship," he muttered, looking anywhere but at you.

"Business internship? You mean, for your family business?"

He shot you an unimpressed look. "No, for the bakery down the street. Yes, for my family business."

Your jaw nearly dropped. "You’re supposed to be the heir?"

He rolled his eyes. "Apparently."

"Since when?"

"Since I was born," he said bitterly. "They never pushed too hard before, but now that I’m getting older, they think it’s time I 'step up' and 'fulfill my role.'" He made exaggerated air quotes. "It’s stupid."

You frowned, watching him closely. He wasn’t just annoyed—he looked exhausted.

"You don’t want to do it," you said quietly.

"No, I don’t. But they don’t care what I want." He scoffed. "It doesn’t matter that I hate it. That I want to do something else. All that matters is that I have their last name and was born first."

For the first time since the swap, you saw something vulnerable beneath his usual sarcasm. It made your chest tighten a little.

You hesitated before saying, "Then why don’t you just... refuse?"

He let out a dry laugh. "You think it’s that easy?"

"I think you should at least try to talk to them."

He sighed, shaking his head. "It’s not that simple, Y/n."

Maybe it wasn’t. But the way his shoulders slumped made you think that, for a long time, he had felt trapped. And no matter how much he acted like it didn’t bother him, deep down, it did.

"What do you want to do then?" you asked, settling onto his bed.

The two of you had just finished gathering your things—his things, technically—since his parents were gone and it was time to return to your designated rooms.

Wonwoo leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed. "Journalism."

Your brow lifted in surprise. "I remember you were in the journalism club back in high school."

"Yeah."

A memory resurfaced, making you smirk. "You wrote an entire article about me beating you in chemistry and taking first place. Called me a 'lucky fluke.'"

Wonwoo let out a small chuckle. "I was very bitter about that."

"You were such a sore loser."

He scoffed. "I had a reputation to uphold!"

You laughed. "Right, right. And now, look at you. So mature."

He sighed dramatically. "Yeah... I’ve grown a lot."

You gave him a skeptical look.

"I mean," he continued, "I’m literally experiencing a period right now. That has to count for something."

Your lips twitched. "Oh, of course. Nothing says personal growth like surviving cramps."

He nodded solemnly. "I have transcended. I'm practically enlightened."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop yourself from laughing. "Idiot."

You leaned back on your elbows, tilting your head as you looked at him. "By the way, why did you even run for student president?"

Wonwoo exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. "I needed influence."

You blinked. "What?"

He shrugged. "Connections. A reputation. If I ever wanted to pursue journalism seriously, I needed to build a name for myself early on."

You stared at him for a second before bursting into laughter. "Oh my God, you sound like a villain setting up a master plan."

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. "It’s called thinking ahead. You wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I wouldn’t understand?" You scoffed, sitting up straighter. "Alright, then why do you think I ran for student president?"

He tilted his head, thinking for a moment before shrugging. "For the experience?"

You shook your head.

"To put on your resume?"

Another shake.

He frowned. "To prove you’re better than me?"

You smirked but shook your head again. "Nope. I needed a place to stay."

Wonwoo’s frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

You inhaled before answering. "The student president gets a free dorm on campus. I needed a way out of the foster home, and that was my best shot."

Wonwoo went quiet, his gaze searching yours as if piecing together things he hadn't realized before. "You… ran because you needed housing?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Mrs. Kim never planned on letting me move out. The only way I could leave was if I had a legitimate reason that even she couldn't argue against. A free dorm with full coverage? She couldn’t say no to that."

He was silent for a long moment before muttering, "Damn."

You chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Not all of us can afford to run for power moves, Mr. Influence."

Wonwoo sighed, rubbing his face. "I really had no idea…"

"It’s fine," you said, waving it off. "I made it out, didn’t I?"

He looked at you, expression unreadable. Then, with a small huff, he muttered, "I still think my reason was cooler."

You threw a pillow at him.

*

The presidential election had finally concluded, and to your surprise, your votes ranked in the top two alongside Seungcheol. The final results hadn’t been announced yet, but sitting in the driver’s seat, Wonwoo was already sulking like a kid who dropped his ice cream.

"Seungcheol has a lot of influence, you know," you said, trying to lift his mood as you buckled your seatbelt.

Wonwoo huffed, arms crossed. "Yeah, yeah. He’s charismatic, well-connected, and has professors wrapped around his finger. We get it."

You smirked. "Sounds like you’re a big fan."

He shot you a glare. "I'm not. I just don't like losing."

"You made it to the top two. That’s not losing."

"It’s not winning either," he grumbled, resting his chin on the steering wheel. "I had a plan. I worked hard. I even made small talk with people, and you know how much I hate that."

You chuckled. "Oh no, not small talk. The ultimate sacrifice."

Wonwoo groaned, tilting his head back against the headrest. "You don’t get it. I needed this. Influence is important."

You grinned. "Yeah, tell me. I was just trying to get a dorm."

Wonwoo let out a long sigh, starting the car. "Well, at least if you win, I'll be stuck in power with someone who won’t make my life hell."

You laughed. "Aww, is that your way of saying you trust me?"

He clicked his tongue, pretending to focus on the road. "No. It’s my way of saying I don’t trust Seungcheol."

"Right, right," you teased. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Almost-President."

Wonwoo’s phone—well, technically, your phone—buzzed on the dashboard. He glanced at the screen, then at you, hesitating.

"It's my mom."

Wonwoo's grip on the phone lingered even after the call ended, his mind racing. His mother had sounded calm, but he knew her well enough to recognize when she was holding something back.

"She knows," he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You blinked, lifting your gaze to meet his. "What?"

"My mom—she knows what Mrs. Kim has been doing to you."

Your breath hitched. "How?"

Wonwoo hesitated. He hadn’t told you yet, but when he had been in your body, experiencing firsthand the bruises, the way your muscles flinched at sudden movements, the way Mrs. Kim had spoken to him—he hadn’t been able to keep it to himself. He had confided in his mother, unable to hold back his anger.

"I told her," he admitted, watching your reaction carefully. "When I was in your body, I couldn’t just ignore it. She knew something was wrong, and I… I told her everything."

You stared at him, emotions flickering across your face—shock, confusion, and something else, something raw.

"She’s getting the police involved," Wonwoo continued. "She already contacted them, and they’re starting an investigation."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. "An investigation?"

He nodded. "We’re not letting her get away with this."

For the first time, real hope flickered in your eyes, but there was also hesitation. "But… she’s always covered her tracks. She’ll deny everything."

"She can try," Wonwoo said firmly. "But I already went for a visum et repertum."

Your eyes widened. "You what?"

"A forensic medical exam," he explained. "To document the bruises, the scars—everything she did to you." His jaw clenched. "I needed proof. And now we have it."

You sat there in stunned silence, struggling to process it all.

"Wonwoo, you—"

"She’s not laying another hand on you," he said, his voice low but unwavering. "Not now, not ever."

Your fingers curled into your lap, emotions overwhelming you. You had spent so many years believing no one would ever step in, that no one would ever truly see what was happening behind closed doors.

But Wonwoo had. And he wasn’t backing down.

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, forcing out a small, shaky laugh. "You really went and did all that?"

He gave a half-smile, shrugging. "Yeah, well… I might have a soft spot for you."

That startled a genuine laugh out of you, light and breathless.

For the first time in a long time, you felt something unfamiliar creeping into your chest—something warm. Something safe.

Maybe, just maybe, this nightmare was finally coming to an end.

*

Wonwoo stood beside his mother, his heart pounding in his chest as the police officer laid out the results of the investigation. He glanced at you—his own body—sitting stiffly beside him, hands clenched into fists. He could see the tension in your posture, the way your shoulders barely moved with your breathing. He understood why. Every word the officer spoke only made the weight in his stomach sink deeper.

"Tonight, we will take Mrs. Kim into custody," the officer stated firmly. "We've gathered substantial evidence, including records showing she registered life insurance policies for over ten children under her care. One of them was a boy who died from hypothermia."

Wonwoo felt a sharp chill crawl up his spine. "Hypothermia?" he repeated, his voice coming out in your tone.

The officer nodded grimly. "She drowned him," he clarified, sliding a file onto the coffee table. "The forensic reports prove it. The original findings were covered up, but we managed to recover them."

A nauseating feeling twisted in his gut. He had suspected Mrs. Kim was cruel, but this… this was beyond anything he had imagined. He turned his gaze toward you—you were staring at the photos in the file, your expression blank, but he knew you well enough to see the terror hiding beneath it.

His mother, who had been listening quietly until now, suddenly stiffened. Her sharp eyes locked onto one of the documents in the officer’s hand. She reached for it, flipping through the pages before pausing.

Then she froze.

"There's your name," she murmured, glancing at him.

Wonwoo leaned forward, eyes scanning the document. It was an insurance registration. The name on it was yours.

"She took out a policy on you six months ago," the officer confirmed.

His breath caught in his throat. He turned to look at you again, and for the first time since this nightmare began, he saw pure fear in your eyes.

His jaw clenched as his mother exhaled sharply, gripping the paper tightly. "She was planning to..," he said, his voice dark with anger.

His mother closed her eyes briefly before fixing the officer with a hardened gaze. "She won’t get away with this, will she?"

The officer shook his head. "No. We have enough evidence now to ensure she faces the full weight of the law."

Silence settled over the room like a suffocating fog. Wonwoo’s mother slowly reached for your hand—his hand—and squeezed it gently.

"You're safe now," she whispered.

*

The news came late at night. Mrs. Kim had been arrested. The police had raided the foster home, taking her into custody without incident. The children had been removed from the house, placed under temporary care while they underwent medical check-ups and psychological evaluations.

You sat in Wonwoo’s room—his real room, not the shared space in the foster home—legs tucked under you as you stared blankly at the floor. It still didn’t feel real. After years of suffering, years of thinking no one would ever come to help, it was over. Mrs. Kim was gone.

Wonwoo—still in your body—watched you carefully from across the room. He could see the exhaustion in your posture, the way your fingers trembled slightly as you held onto the blanket draped over your lap. You had barely spoken since the police update.

"You should sleep," he said softly.

You exhaled a small laugh, shaking your head. "I don’t think I can."

Silence settled between you. Then, after a moment, you looked up at him, your expression unreadable.

"Thank you," you said, voice quiet but steady.

Wonwoo blinked. "For what?"

You let out a breath, searching for the right words. "If it weren’t for you… none of this would’ve happened. Mrs. Kim would still be out there. The kids would still be suffering. I—" You paused, looking down at your hands. "I might not even be alive."

The weight of your words hit him hard. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he just stared at you, watching as the tension in your shoulders slowly unraveled.

"You didn’t have to help me," you continued. "But you did. You fought for me when I couldn’t fight for myself."

Wonwoo swallowed, something heavy settling in his chest. "You deserved it," he said simply.

You met his eyes, and for the first time since this nightmare began, you felt something close to relief.

"Yeah," you murmured. "I think… I’m finally starting to believe that."

Wonwoo, still in your body, moved to your side, his expression unreadable. Before you could say anything, he pulled you into his arms. The embrace was firm, grounding, and for a moment, you forgot about the weight of everything that had happened.

You stiffened slightly at first—it was strange, feeling your own body hold you—but the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breathing, made it easier to let go. Slowly, you relaxed against him.

"You’re safe now," he murmured. "It’s over."

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his—your—shirt. "It doesn’t feel real."

"I know," Wonwoo said, his grip tightening just a little. "But it is."

Silence settled between you, thick with everything unspoken. The weight of the past few days, of the fear, the uncertainty, the fight—it all hung in the air. But underneath it, there was relief.

Wonwoo pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. Even though he was in your body, the concern in his gaze was entirely his. "If I hadn’t gotten there in time—" He shook his head, exhaling sharply. "I don’t even want to think about it."

"But you did," you reminded him, offering a small, tired smile. "You saved me. And not just me—all the kids in that house. If it weren’t for you, they’d still be suffering."

Wonwoo’s grip on you tightened for a moment before he finally nodded. "Yeah. I guess we saved them together."

He watched your eyes and hesitated, his grip on you loosening just slightly, but he didn’t pull away completely. His eyes flickered to your lips for just a second before he caught himself, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.

You noticed.

Before you could overthink it, you leaned in, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss against his lips—a mere brush, a hesitation wrapped in warmth. It was barely anything, just a peck, but the way Wonwoo froze made your heart race.

When you pulled back, his eyes widened, lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. You stepped back slightly, giving him space, but the air between you had changed.

"What was that?" he finally asked, voice quiet.

You swallowed, suddenly unsure. "I… don’t know."

A beat of silence.

"We were enemies, right?" Wonwoo said, his brows furrowing in thought. "Back in high school, we couldn’t stand each other."

You let out a small, breathless laugh. "Yeah, I guess we were."

"But then… somehow, we became friends," he continued, his voice softer now. "I don’t even know when that happened."

You met his gaze, something unspoken lingering between you. "And now?"

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away. He lifted a hand as if he wanted to reach for you but hesitated at the last second. Instead, he exhaled, shaking his head with a small, almost amused smile.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "What are we now?"

You didn’t have an answer either. But as you looked at him—at the way he was watching you, searching for something—maybe that was okay. Maybe you’d figure it out together.

*

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You shifted slightly, feeling warmth against you—an arm draped loosely around your waist, a steady heartbeat beneath your cheek.

For a moment, you didn’t think much of it. It felt natural, comfortable. The exhaustion from the past few days had melted into this quiet moment of peace.

Then it hit you.

You shot up, your eyes widening as you took in the sight in front of you. Wonwoo was still half-asleep, his hair a mess, eyes barely open as he blinked up at you in confusion. But that wasn’t what made your breath catch.

It was him. His face. His body.

And then you looked down at yourself.

Your hands—your hands—small, familiar. You touched your face, feeling the features you had grown up with.

Panic and realization hit at the same time.

"Wonwoo," you gasped.

At the sound of his name, he frowned, groggy, his voice rough from sleep. "What?"

You grabbed his shoulders, shaking him slightly. "We—"

Then his eyes widened, fully waking up as he sat up abruptly. His hands darted to his own face, his own chest. He looked at you, then at himself, then back at you again.

"We’re back," he breathed.

You both stared at each other, the weight of everything crashing down. The confusion, the fear, the chaos of switching lives—it was over.

A mix of emotions swirled inside you. Relief. Disbelief. Maybe even… a little sadness?

Somehow, in all of this, you and Wonwoo had gone from being enemies, to reluctant allies, to something more. And now, back in your own bodies, you weren’t sure what came next.

"You were cuddling me," Wonwoo suddenly pointed out, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

Your face heated instantly. "You were cuddling me!"

He hummed, stretching lazily. "I don’t remember pushing you away."

"Ugh, you’re insufferable."

But there was no real bite behind your words. You were too relieved, too overwhelmed, and maybe even… a little happy.

Because somehow, through all of this, you had found him.

*

You moved out as soon as Seungcheol, the newly elected student president, handed you a key after pulling some strings to secure you a free room in the student dorm. It was a relief—a chance to finally breathe on your own, away from the chaos of the past few months.

"Don't forget, you owe me," he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he twirled the keyring around his finger like some grand prize. He was clearly enjoying this.

You rolled your eyes but snatched the key from his hand anyway. "Aye aye, captain," you muttered, stuffing it into your pocket.

Seungcheol chuckled, leaning lazily against the doorframe. "Oh, and your boyfriend—think he’d be interested in filling the media and advocacy position?"

You froze mid-step, your fingers tightening around the key. "He's not my boyfriend," you shot back, a little sharper than intended. Heat crept up your neck, and you hated how easily he could fluster you with just a few words.

Seungcheol’s brow arched, clearly unimpressed by your denial. "Don't lie to me. You think I didn’t notice how often you talked him up during the campaign?"

You scoffed, turning the key in the lock just for something to do. "I wasn’t talking him up."

"Really?" His smirk widened. "So saying he's ‘sharp, capable, and annoyingly good at everything’ was criticism?"

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat as realization dawned on you. It wasn’t you who had said those things about Wonwoo. It was him, using your body.

That little—

Your jaw tightened, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. The thought of Wonwoo casually praising himself while pretending to be you made you want to throw something. Of course, he had made you sound like his biggest fan.

You exhaled sharply, deciding this was a battle for another day. "I’ll ask him," you muttered, pushing open the door to your new dorm.

"Good," Seungcheol said, straightening up. "And let me know when you two finally admit you’re together."

"Seungcheol—"

"See you at the next meeting, Madam Secretary," he called over his shoulder, throwing you a knowing wink before strolling off down the hallway.

You groaned, running a hand down your face as you glared at the empty space where he had just stood. Annoying.

With a sigh, you stepped inside your new dorm room, shutting the door behind you. The silence was almost deafening compared to the whirlwind of everything that had happened recently. You glanced down at the key in your palm, feeling the weight of it.

A new beginning. A fresh start.

But somehow, you had the feeling that no matter what, Wonwoo was going to be right in the middle of it all.

Just like now, the tall boy was sitting on the floor, unboxing your books and carefully placing them on the shelves. The only sound in the room was the occasional hum from your lips—a rare moment of quiet between the two of you. It struck you as odd.

Wonwoo was never this silent around you.

You turned, only to catch him flipping through one of your books. But from the worn-out cover and the way his brows slightly raised in interest, you knew exactly what it was.

Your high school diary.

Your stomach dropped.

In a flash, you slid across the floor to his side, reaching for the book, but he was faster. With a teasing smirk, he turned his body away, holding it just out of your reach as he continued reading like he wasn’t blatantly invading your privacy.

"That's my diary, Wonwoo," you hissed, stretching to snatch it from his grasp.

"As if I hadn’t literally lived in that body of yours," he quipped, his smirk widening.

You huffed, crossing your arms in frustration. You honestly didn’t even remember what you had written in that diary—probably a bunch of pointless high school drama and petty complaints about your elite private school.

That is, until he read one line aloud.

"Mingyu is annoyingly kind and smart for the rich kids."

You groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands. "Please stop."

Wonwoo chuckled, clearly enjoying himself as he leaned back against the bed. "And he's handsome too, I guess. You like Mingyu?!"

"Past tense," you muttered, peeking at him between your fingers. "And honestly, who didn’t back in high school?"

His amusement lingered as he continued flipping through the pages, but then, without warning, his smile faded.

He stilled.

His brows furrowed.

When he finally looked at you, there was something unreadable in his expression. "It was intentional?"

Your breath hitched at the shift in his tone. "What?"

Before you could grab the diary, he turned it around so you could see the passage.

And then, it hit you.

The memory resurfaced instantly—the day you had scribbled those frustrated words after an exam. The day you had deliberately answered one question wrong just to land in second place.

Wonwoo’s voice was quieter this time. "My father asked you to do that?"

His eyes scanned your face, searching for confirmation, as he tried to process what he had just read.

Your fingers curled tightly around the diary as you exhaled, leaning back against the bed. There was no point in hiding it now—not when he had already read the truth for himself.

"It was to secure my scholarship," you admitted, your voice quieter than before.

Wonwoo's brows remained furrowed, his hands tightening slightly around the book. "What?"

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "Your father... he told Mrs. Kim that I was never to step into your level—meaning the highest I was allowed to place was second."

The words hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken resentment and long-buried frustration.

Wonwoo’s jaw tensed. "He told you that?"

"Not directly. Mrs. Kim did," you clarified, gripping the diary a little tighter. "She said it was a condition. That as long as I stayed beneath you, I could keep my scholarship. My tuition would stay covered, my future secured—as long as I didn’t outshine you."

Wonwoo stared at you, and for the first time since you met him, there was no teasing, no sarcasm, no sharp-witted remarks. Just silence.

He wasn’t even looking at the diary anymore. His gaze was locked onto you, his expression unreadable.

"You were forced to stay second place," he finally said, his voice almost detached, like he was still trying to wrap his head around it.

You shrugged, forcing a small, bitter smile. "It wasn't that hard. You were better than me, anyway."

"That's not the point," he snapped, the sudden edge in his voice making you blink. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head. "That’s why you never challenged me, isn’t it? Why you never tried to win?"

You hesitated before nodding. "Would it have mattered?"

Wonwoo let out a humorless chuckle, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "And here I thought you just enjoyed losing to me."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, because that sounds like something I’d do."

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smirk.

Instead, he stared at you like he was seeing you in an entirely different light.

Like he was starting to understand something he never had before.

Wonwoo let out a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the diary still clutched in your hands. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for it again—but instead, he just sat there, staring at nothing in particular.

Then, to your surprise, he laughed. A quiet, almost disbelieving sound.

"Wow," he murmured, shaking his head. "So all this time... you were holding back for me."

You frowned. "Not for you—"

"Still," he cut in, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. "You let me win. Over and over. You fed my ego for years."

You didn’t know what to say to that. Was he mad? Annoyed?

But then he exhaled, running a hand through his hair, and you saw something unexpected in his expression.

"Thank you."

You blinked. "What?"

"Thank you," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "For letting me think I was the best. For... making me feel like I was good at something."

There was no sarcasm. No teasing. Just a raw honesty that made your chest tighten.

"I didn’t do it for you," you muttered, looking away.

"I know." He tilted his head slightly, watching you. "But you still did."

You let out a breath, shaking your head. "Why are you even thanking me? It’s not like I had a choice."

Wonwoo leaned back against the bed, his expression unreadable. "Because if you hadn't, I probably would've lost my mind."

You frowned.

"My dad—he always expected me to be the best. Not just in school, but in everything." He let out a small, humorless laugh. "And I wasn’t. I knew I wasn’t. But the scores? The rankings? That was the only thing that made me feel like I was good enough. Like I actually deserved something."

You stared at him, the weight of his words settling in.

"You have no idea how badly I needed that validation," he admitted. "How badly I needed to believe I was the best at something. Even if it was fake."

You swallowed. You had never thought of it that way before. You had always seen Wonwoo as someone untouchable—smart, capable, and always one step ahead of you. But now, sitting here, hearing him admit that he needed to win...

He wasn’t as untouchable as you thought.

"You weren’t bad, you know," you said after a moment. "Even without me holding back, you probably still would’ve beaten me."

He let out a breathy chuckle, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Maybe. But at least now I know the truth."

Silence settled between you, heavy and unspoken.

You sighed, shifting so you were fully facing him. Wonwoo had always carried himself like he had everything under control, like he never wavered. But now, sitting here, you could see the cracks in that image—the weight of expectations, the pressure he had put on himself for years.

"You don’t have to be the best at everything, you know," you said quietly.

Wonwoo looked at you, surprised by your words.

"You’re already smart," you continued. "Responsible. Honest to a fault." You hesitated before adding, "You even helped me with Mrs. Kim when you didn’t have to."

His brows furrowed slightly. "That doesn’t mean—"

"You could’ve caused trouble while you were in my body," you cut him off. "You could’ve made my life a mess, done things just to spite me. But you didn’t. You helped me. You took care of things. That says more about you than any stupid ranking ever could."

Wonwoo didn’t respond right away, his expression unreadable. You weren’t sure if he was actually listening or if he was just waiting for you to stop talking. But then, after a long pause, he let out a quiet chuckle.

"So you’re saying I’m a good person?"

You rolled your eyes. "I’m saying you don’t have to prove that you are. You already are. And that’s enough."

Wonwoo blinked, like he didn’t quite know what to do with your words. Then, slowly, a small, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me."

You scoffed, nudging his arm. "Don’t get used to it."

But the warmth in his gaze lingered, and for the first time, you saw him believe it.

Wonwoo let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "You know, if this were some kind of cliché moment in a movie, you’d kiss me right now. Like last time."

You snorted, crossing your arms. "Oh, please."

But his words triggered a memory—the last time your lips met.

"Besides," you added, tilting your head at him, "I technically didn’t kiss you last time. It was more like a peck. And even then, it wasn’t me kissing you—it was me in your body, so it was your lips touching mine."

Wonwoo smirked, leaning in slightly. "Sounds like a lot of excuses."

Before you could roll your eyes again, he reached for your wrist, pulling you just close enough that your breath hitched. His gaze flickered to your lips for just a second before he murmured,

"Let’s fix that, then."

And before you could even think of a response, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours.

This time, it wasn’t just a peck.

*

Wonwoo sat stiffly across from his father, unsure why he had been called to this unexpected meeting. His father, always composed and stern, sipped his tea before finally setting the cup down with a decisive clink.

"I’ve been thinking," his father began, his deep voice carrying an unusual softness, "about your future."

Wonwoo’s shoulders tensed. He was ready for another lecture, another reminder of his predetermined path. But then—

"I’ve decided," his father continued, "that if you truly want to pursue journalism, you have my support."

Wonwoo blinked. He must have misheard. His father? Supporting his dream?

His father adjusted his glasses, tapping a finger against the table. "I read your work—the articles, the essays, the investigative pieces you’ve written over the years. There’s potential, Wonwoo. Real potential. I wasn’t convinced before, but now…" He exhaled, looking directly at his son. "I see it."

Wonwoo’s mind raced. How did his father—?

Then his eyes flicked to his laptop sitting on the desk nearby. A strange feeling gnawed at him. Slowly, he reached for it, opening his email.

His inbox showed a long thread between him and his father—except… he didn’t remember sending these.

Clicking through, his breath caught. Attached were all the articles, drafts, and opinion pieces he had ever written, even the ones he had abandoned, perfectly formatted and sent with a professional, persuasive message:

"Father, I know journalism wasn’t the future you envisioned for me, but writing has always been my passion. I hope you can see the effort I’ve put into it. All I ask is for you to read and reconsider. If there’s any part of you that believes in me, please support this dream."

The email was formal, respectful—something Wonwoo would never have dared to send himself.

Because he didn’t send it.

Realization struck.

You.

While you were in his body, you had gathered every piece of writing he had ever done and sent it to his father, pushing for the approval he had been too afraid to ask for himself.

A lump formed in his throat.

"You…" Wonwoo murmured under his breath, still staring at the screen. His heart pounded, caught between disbelief and something else—something warm, something deep.

His father took another sip of tea. "I’m ready to support you, son. If this is what you want, you don’t have to fight for it alone."

Wonwoo swallowed, his grip tightening around the laptop. His lips parted, but no words came out.

Because for the first time in his life, he realized—

Someone had fought for him first.

*

Years later, Wonwoo came home to find you curled up on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through TV channels. The familiar sight of you—your hair messy, your legs tucked under a blanket—made something in his chest unclench. Without a word, he let his tired body collapse onto you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your stomach.

You huffed at the sudden weight but didn’t push him away. Instead, your fingers instinctively found their way into his hair, gently brushing through the strands.

"I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your shirt.

You chuckled, feeling the vibration of his words against you. "Journalism finally hit you?"

Wonwoo groaned dramatically before shifting, propping himself up just enough to look at you. "My senior is evil. How could he make us stay in the police station for two days?"

Your brows raised. "Got any news?"

He sighed, shaking his head before letting his head fall onto your lap, his face turned toward you. His dark eyes studied your features, the corners of his lips tugging into something softer, something unspoken.

"And I missed you," he murmured.

You rolled your eyes, though your fingers never stopped their soothing motions through his hair. "You're so dramatic."

"Am I?" He smirked lazily. "You should've seen how miserable I was without you."

You scoffed, pretending to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his words. It had taken months—months of stolen kisses, secret touches, and endless bickering—before the two of you had finally admitted what everyone else had seen from the start.

Mingyu, fed up with your ridiculous denial, had finally intervened. And by "intervened," it meant shoving you and Wonwoo into a closet during a party and refusing to let you out until you confessed your feelings. It was a long, messy story—one that involved a lot of yelling, some threats, and a victorious Mingyu grinning like a proud matchmaker.

And yet, it had worked.

Now, here you were, years later, with Wonwoo sprawled across you like he belonged there. Because, in a way, he did.

"You’re such a baby," you teased, lightly flicking his forehead.

He caught your hand before you could pull away, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Only for you."

You felt it before you saw it—the subtle shift in the way Wonwoo’s fingers curled around yours, the slow, deliberate drag of his thumb against your palm. His other hand, which had been resting idly on your waist, started to move, fingertips tracing light, teasing patterns over the fabric of your shirt.

Your breath hitched when he pressed a little firmer, his touch no longer innocent, no longer just an affectionate gesture.

"Wonwoo," you murmured, though it came out softer than intended, barely a warning.

His lips twitched, eyes flicking up to yours, dark and knowing. "What?" he asked, voice low, lazy, but there was something else there too—something heavier, something that made your stomach flip.

"You’re tired," you pointed out, though even to your own ears, it sounded like a weak excuse.

Wonwoo hummed, shifting slightly until he was lying on his side, one arm draped around your waist, the other still tangled with your fingers. "Yeah," he agreed, nuzzling into your stomach. "But I still missed you."

You swallowed when his nose brushed against the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. His fingers slipped under the fabric, skimming your hip before sliding up, slow and unhurried.

Your skin prickled under his touch, and he must've felt your reaction because his smirk deepened.

"Wonwoo," you tried again, but this time, your voice betrayed you, dipping into something breathier, something more wanting.

"Hmm?" He looked up at you, feigning innocence, but the way his fingers flexed against your waist, the way his lips barely brushed against your stomach before pulling back—it was anything but innocent.

Your fingers twitched in his hair, torn between pulling him away and pulling him closer.

And from the way his smirk widened, you had a feeling he already knew which one you were leaning toward.

You sucked in a breath when Wonwoo’s fingers trailed lower, his touch lazy, teasing, like he had all the time in the world. His palm skimmed over your thigh, fingertips pressing just enough to make you shiver. His head remained on your lap, but his eyes were locked on yours, watching every little reaction.

"You're really not going to stop me, huh?" he murmured, amusement lacing his tone.

Your fingers curled in his hair, torn between pulling him away and keeping him right where he was. "Wonwoo," you whispered, though you weren’t sure if it was meant to stop him or encourage him.

He chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through you, before his fingers slipped just a little further, skimming over the waistband of your shorts. Your breath stuttered, body tensing in anticipation.

"You’re so easy to tease," he mused, his lips curving as he pressed a kiss to your stomach.

You swatted at his shoulder, though there was no real strength behind it. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, you still let me touch you."

His fingers flexed again, just a whisper of movement against your skin, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. The heat in his gaze was unmistakable, and the air between you felt thick, charged.

Your lips parted to say something—maybe to challenge him, maybe to tell him to keep going—but before you could, his fingers dipped lower, making you gasp.

Wonwoo smirked, leaning in closer. "Yeah," he murmured, voice dark with satisfaction. "I thought so."

Wonwoo's fingers danced across your heated flesh, tracing the sensitive inner thighs, his touch both teasing and tantalizing. You parted your legs slightly, inviting him deeper into the haven of your intimacy. His calloused palm grazed the damp lace of your panties, the delicate material offering little barrier against the scorching heat of your core.

With a knowing smirk, Wonwoo hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, slowly peeling them down your hips to reveal your glistening, needy center. He dipped a finger into the slick folds, gathering your essence and rubbing it along your throbbing clit in a deliberate rhythm.

"You're so wet for me already," he purred, his voice low and husky with desire. "Tell me, do you miss me as much as I miss you?"

The overwhelming ache within you demanded release, begging for Wonwoo's touch to quench the thirst that had built throughout the day apart. You nodded frantically, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered to the intensity of your longing.

"Yes, I miss you so much," You whimpered, arching into his skilled caresses. "Please, Wonwoo... I need you inside me."

At your plea, Wonwoo stood abruptly, scooping you effortlessly into his arms.

He carried you swiftly towards the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you with a resolute click. Once there, he set you down on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes smoldering with unrestrained hunger as he shed the remainder of his clothes with swift, practiced movements.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be than right here, buried deep within your sweet heat," he declared, his rigid length jutting out prominently, aching to claim its rightful place inside you once again.

"I'm dying to taste you, sweetheart, but I can barely control myself." Wonwoo spat onto your dripping slit, the warm droplets mingling with your arousal. "Gotta get inside you, now."

He positioned himself at your entrance, the swollen head of his member nudging against your slick heat.

With a steady, controlled thrust, Wonwoo sheathed himself fully within you, his thickness stretching and filling you to the brim. He paused for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, before withdrawing until just the tip remained inside.

"Are you ready, baby?" he asked, his voice rough with restrained passion.

You nodded, your hips lifting eagerly to meet his next push forward.

Wonwoo's grip tightened on your hips as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each stroke dragging out the pleasure until it bordered on agony. He leaned down, capturing your thing between his teeth, nibbling and suckling in time with his measured pace.

With agonizing slowness, Wonwoo continued to drive into you, each inch a tantalizing exploration of your innermost depths. His teeth grazed your thing, sending electric shocks straight to your core as his fingers found your sensitive clit, circling the tender bud with maddening gentleness.

"Wonwoo...Yes..." You whimpered, lost in the haze of pleasure, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him desperately.

Wonwoo's rhythmic strokes intensified, his hips undulating sensually against yours. Each deep, languid thrust seemed designed to unravel you from the inside out, his teasing touches driving you closer to the brink. Youwrithed beneath him, craving more of that exquisite friction, your cries escalating into urgent whimpers.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groaned, his voice strained with effort as he fought to maintain the torturously slow pace.

With a subtle shift in his tempo, Wonwoo picked up speed, the previously languid thrusts now becoming harder and faster. Your back arched off the bed as he pistoned into you with renewed vigor, the room echoing with the lewd sound of flesh meeting flesh.

"That's it, take it deeper," he encouraged, his hand tightening on your hip, urging you to meet his increasing fervor. "Let go, my love. I've got you."

With a sudden yank, Wonwoo hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he maintained eye contact. The new angle allowed him to sink even deeper inside, and you cried out at the delicious stretch.

"I want to look at you while I fill you up," he growled, his thumbs rubbing circles over yout hyper-sensitive clit as he pumped into you.

With each relentless thrust, Wonwoo could feel the telltale flutter of you impending orgasm building within me. Your walls clenched tighter around his throbbing length, drawing him impossibly deeper, and he knew you was teetering on the precipice.

"Don't hold back," he commanded gruffly, his own climax fast approaching. "Let go for me, my beautiful girl. I want to feel you shake apart.."

With increased urgency, Wonwoo slammed into you, the force of his thrusts nearly knocking the wind from you ungs. You inner muscles spasmed wildly as you reached the crest, wave after wave of intense pleasure crashing over me.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You screamed, your nails raking down his back as the most potent orgasm of yout life ripped through you.

...and then Wonwoo buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsating violently as he reached his peak. With a guttural roar, he poured himself into you, flooding your spasming channel with his hot seed.

"P-pretty... fuck," he stuttered, his face contorting in blissful agony as he emptied himself inside you. His rhythmic spurts triggered aftershocks, each twitch of his still-hard member coaxing out lingering echoes of yout earlier climax.

With a contented sigh, Wonwoo collapsed onto you, your bodies still intimately entwined. Though he'd just delivered a mind-blowing orgasm, his exhaustion was palpable, making it clear he had no intention of withdrawing anytime soon.

"Mmm, too tired," he mumbled, his face nuzzling into the crook of my neck as he struggled to catch his breath.

*

A soft groan escaped your lips as you stirred from sleep, the lingering sensations of last night’s intimacy still fresh in your mind. Your body felt relaxed in the most satisfying way, every inch of you still attuned to Wonwoo’s touch. A small, pleased smile curved your lips as you felt the comforting warmth of him pressed against you, his solid form still nestled close, as if he had no intention of letting go.

"Morning, sunshine," you murmured sleepily, your voice laced with warmth and amusement. "Seems like you didn’t intend to let me go after all, did you?"

But the moment the words left your mouth, something felt off. The timbre of your voice—deeper, rougher—sent a jolt of confusion through you.

Your eyes snapped open.

Your breath hitched as you took in the unfamiliar sight of broad shoulders, long limbs, and the distinct weight of a body that wasn’t yours.

Panic set in.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, you looked down to the other side—only to find yourself staring at… yourself.

Wonwoo—trapped in your body—blinked at you sleepily, his own eyes widening in delayed realization.

Not again.

"Don't move…" Wonwoo groaned, his voice—your voice—strained as he let out a soft moan from the way your body tensed inside him.

His grip on your arm tightened as he exhaled sharply, frustration evident in the way his brows furrowed. "Shit… Does your body always ache this much after sex? Don’t move!" he snapped, his complaint sounding oddly amusing in your own voice.

You bit back a laugh, despite the absurdity of the situation. "I’m not doing anything," you said defensively, then motioned toward your member—his member—where the evidence of his current predicament was painfully obvious. "It’s working itself."

Wonwoo sighed in exasperation, dragging a hand down his—your—face. "Welcome to manhood," you added with a smirk.

His glare could’ve burned holes through you, but at that moment, all you could do was marvel at the sheer irony of it all.

The end:)

[girllblogging777]

𝐻𝐸𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑆 𝑅𝐸𝐶𝐿𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸𝐷

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader drabble (fluff, angst)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1,02k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : mattheo’s jealousy causes an argument, but both find yourself comforting eachother

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"i told you i don’t care about that ravenclaw guy, he was just asking me about a potions assignment," you snapped, the frustration of your argument with mattheo finally reaching its peak. your boyfriend had found you talking to another boy in the great hall this morning, and he hadn’t let it go since, making you the main target of his pent up anger.

"well, i care! i care that my girlfriend was being all giggly with some guy in front of everyone, and i care even more that you’re brushing it off like it’s nothing!" he shouted back, running his hand through his brunette curls in frustration. you knew mattheo’s short temper well, how his mental health and past trauma affected his ability to express emotions, but he rarely lashed out at you like this. today had been different, and you’d sensed it the moment you saw that flicker of harshness in his usual soft brown eyes.

you sighed, trying to explain yourself calmly and hoping to ease his anger before things escalated, silently aware that it wouldn’t change anything. "look, i understand how you must be feeling right now, but—" he cut you off, his voice sharp and unyielding.

“no, you don’t ! stop playing therapist all the time. you don’t get it, and you’re never fucking going to." his words were harsh, and you tried not to let it get to your head, knowing he wasn’t thinking clearly. you braced yourself for what might come next, knowing he was too far gone to appreciate your gentleness. "maybe if you weren’t always trying to fix me, it would be easier. not my fault you’re oversensitive and can’t take anything !"

that was the breaking point. he’d crossed a line, and he didn’t even seem to care. mattheo knew how much you hated being yelled at, how it made you feel small and vulnerable, and yet, today he hadn’t held back. deep down, you knew the reason : he hated how much power you had over him, how easily you could mess with his heart. in this entire school, you were the only one who dared to stand up to mattheo riddle, to tell him the truth even when it hurt. it was why your relationship worked, but also why you ended up having those arguments so often.

something shifted in your gaze, and he noticed it : the tiny spark of pain mixed with the tears welling up in your eyes. you whispered pleadingly, "don’t yell at me like that, i can’t do this." your voice was small, but the impact was immediate. the anger faded away from his eyes, when he remembered you telling him the reason why you couldn’t stand shouting. he realised he’d just reenacted the past trauma you had told him about and his lips curved into a barely-there frown. you saw the regret settling in his expression.

"i know… i took it too far. i shouldn’t have." his voice was softer now, the anger draining from his features. you didn’t move or say anything, still reeling from the sting of his words. mattheo took a hesitant step towards you, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mixture of guilt and desperation. he hesitated, he saw the hurt he’d caused, the way your body tensed as if waiting for more. he hated himself for letting his temper get the better of him, for hurting the one person who had always stood by him.

“baby, please…” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly as he took another step towards you. he reached out, but you instinctively flinched, and he froze, the guilt getting to him. you turned away, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “mattheo, you know i care about you more than anything, but i can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep lashing out at me every time you’re upset. it’s not fair.”

“i know,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret. “i just… i don’t know how to deal with it sometimes. i get so scared of losing you that i get jealous and push you away. it’s messed up, i know that.” you finally looked at him, seeing the pain in his eyes, the vulnerability he so rarely showed. it was the side of mattheo that made you fall for him, the boy beneath the act who just wanted to be loved and understood. but that didn’t make the hurt disappear.

“i’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady but soft as you tried to comfort him. “but i need you to be with me in this, mattheo. i can’t be the only one trying to fix it.” he nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek, though he quickly wiped it away. “i promise, i’ll do better. i don’t want to lose you. you’re the only good thing i have.”

the sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment, and then slowly closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him. his arms enveloped you immediately, holding you tight as if you might slip away. you had never seen him cry before but that single tear on his cheek was enough to make you forget what had just happened

“i’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair, his voice muffled but heartfelt. “i’ll work on it, i swear.” you nodded against his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow as he calmed down. “i know you will. just… talk to me next time, okay? before it gets to this point.”

“i will,” he promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, and i’m not going to let my stupid temper ruin what we have.” you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a small, forgiving smile. “i love you too, mattheo. just… no more yelling, okay?” he nodded frantically, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “no more yelling. i’ll keep that in check.”

you both stood there for a moment, just holding each other, letting the tension melt away. the storm had passed, and in its place was a new sense of understanding and commitment. mattheo might not be perfect, but neither were you, and that was okay. as long as you faced your flaws together, there was nothing you couldn’t overcome.

“but you have to promise me not to let anyone get too close to you” he finally said, his voice lighter, almost playful. “and besides, you’re only supposed to laugh at my jokes.”

you smiled, chuckling. “he didn’t stand a single chance.” whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together, and that was all that mattered.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : thank you @reys-letters for your request !!! please like/comment/reblog and leave requests if you think of something <3

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[xbuu]

Jack of Hearts game! Chishiya x Fem! Reader

You've been stressed in the last few rounds of the Jack of Hearts game, so Chishiya decides it's time to help you relax.

Content: Fluffy smut, teasing, slight exhibitionist kink, jacket stays on during sex.

Word count: ~1.4k

a/n: i have a ton of fics to post already (3) but I'm scared of posting them all at the same time in case i run out of inspiration and don't post anything for a while so I'm really spacing them out. also got my first ask a few days ago so I'm working on it anon!!

"Are you sure they won't hear?" You bite your lip, hesitantly wrapping your hands around his neck while your right leg bounces nervously.

"Sure." But his answer doesn't do much to calm your nerves. You know he'd take you anywhere, regardless of who could hear. His arms wrap around your waist and lift you on top of the dusty plastic table. It'd do, at least until you got out of the game.

A small, dark storage closet wasn't the most romantic spot, but he had grabbed your hand after the tenth round was over and guided you to the furthest away room he could find.

It's been a few long hours, and with the remaining contestants all having another person they could trust, the game had proven hard to break. He'd just have to break you, in the meantime.

His hands fly to your shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping and throwing them away in a blink of your eyes. Your hands fly to his pants, but you're considerably slower than usual, your mind still wrapped around the details of the game, the players, the rules, how to—

"Don't think." He stops you with a call of your name. "Let me worry about that. For now, I want your attention on me." He slips off his pants himself with that awfully sexy smirk. Oh.

You give him an uncertain, anxious smile, and you cup his face and lean in to get lost on his lips. He's a great kisser. An amazing kisser. And as his tongue sneaks into your mouth you forget everything about the game.

He doesn't let you dwell on anything for too long. He's already pushing into you, unzipping your skimpy shorts and pushing your panties to the side, while your tongue remains wrapped around his. You're so used to his cock it feels like getting home whenever he pushes inside of you.

The moans you produce are swallowed by him until you weakly push him away, gulping in a breath and throwing your head back. He lets his head get pushed back, though he doesn't pull his strong grip of your hips away, pushing slowly to help you get used to his cock. He isn't the girthiest, but he's long.

"I'll have to make this quick, won't I?" You're too busy getting dicked down by him to actually reply, but you mentally answer, your thoughts trying to pull you away from him. He pulls you back to him when he sheathes inside of you and his tip grazes the spongy spot inside of you.

"Chishiya!" You yell, completely out of your control, and he covers your mouth as you dig your nails in the back of his jacket just lightly, in warning of what's to come.

"We can't have you screaming out for everyone to know what we're up to. Remember the couple just before the game?" He whispers, right in your ear, causing you to shiver. Of course you remember, Chishiya had pointed them out to you, and it made your cheeks flush red even if it wasn't your moans that were ringing through the cells. They definitely are now, though.

The words (that he definitely purred out like a cat) make you bend into his body, hide your face in his shoulder and replace his hand on your mouth with his neck. He hasn't even started thrusting yet and he has you at his mercy.

"Are you hiding from me?" He laughs, so unbelievably irritating, especially when he has you in this position. You open your mouth to retort, but he grabs your hips and pulls out only to thrust back in.

"Chishiya!" It's halfway between a word and a moan, but he doesn't really mind how loud it is, lifting your knees up to the height of his shoulders, only to fasten the rhythm until it causes you to slump on top of him.

"You're not going to talk back to me?" He hums, and swallows a groan that you definitely noticed from resting your head so close to his neck.

"I—" You muffle another moan on the softness of his white jacket. "Stop teasing." You demand, as if it would change his incorregible behavior.

"But I love how flustered you get." He laughs, a small noise on the back of his throat, and you can feel the vibration as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in order to muffle an impending moan.

"Stay quiet." He reminds, but he doesn't stop his thrusts or his soft breaths on your neck, doesn't offer a hand on covering your mouth again since muffling your moans on his shoulder doesn't seem to work.

"C-Can't." You admit, through bitten back moans and soft whines that had the potential to be screams.

"You can." He pushes. He always adores pushing your limits, seeing how many you can take of his fingers, or how many orgasms until you beg him to stop, or in this case, how long until you are forced to scream out from the pleasure.

You kick at him from your very limited position he holds you up in. His hands under your knees, bringing them up to your chest to really be able to break you in half. He doesn't stop his thrusts, though, laughing lowly through your kicks and squirms and muffled whines.

It's not long until you feel that familiar feeling in the bottom of your tummy, a warmth that threatens to make you scream so loud that everyone in the building will know what you're up to (if they didn't, already). Chishiya can feel how you're tightening up around him, unfortunately, and he will never miss the chance to make you flustered.

"Are you close?" He whispers, and if you were able to look at his face you'd witness his signature smirk on his face.

"No." You reply, maybe a beat too fast, but you forget how well he knows you, how well he has studied your body, how well he has memorized the pulses of your pussy and the twitches of your stomach. He doesn't reply, he lets you think he believed your lie, only adjusting your body slightly in reply.

You keep muffling your sounds and digging your nails on his back for the next minute, though it feels like a long, agonizing hour has passed when he finally gets rougher, quicker, even if only by a split second. It's just what you need to get over the edge.

That is, until Chishiya lets go of your left knee, running his hand down your stomach and your heat until his finger grazes your soft, aching clit.

Just the soft touch makes your hips fly from the table to his, moaning with disinterest over who hears. He laughs, low and teasing, and pushes your head into the nape of his neck, but you can't hear anything over the blood rushing to your ears and your heavy pants as you reach your climax and cover his dick in slick white.

He doesn't stop the thrusts into you, and his breaths turn labored and heavy. He's close, you know by the way he seems tempted to bury his face on your neck too, by the way he almost curls into you, by the way that he has stopped laughing and resorted to panting into your ear.

"Are you close?" You bite back, now your turn to pull him close to you by wrapping your legs around his waist. He grunts back, so low you barely hear it.

It's not every day Chishiya seems so fixated on your body, almost like he also has something in his mind he wants to lose inside of you, so you know you'll take full advantage of it. You cup his face with one hand, bringing him close to you as you face his ear.

A breathy, pornographic moan of his name next to his ear is all he needs, and with no warning, he cums deep inside of you, staying still with a final thrust of his hips.

He stays inside of you for a couple of seconds, wrapping his arms around you. Only after both of your breaths have evened out and you stop shivering he cuts through the silence. "You know you have nothing to be scared of, right? Not while I'm here. I'll find the Jack."

"Mhm." He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his eyebrows level, but the corner of his lip twitches up just barely, you're sure you caught it.

[janitorhutcherson]

Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)

hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!

summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam

warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!

word count: 2,925

nsfw after the cut!!

You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.

...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.

Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up. 

Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.

"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.

"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?" 

His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows. 

"Use your words," he demanded. 

"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes. 

"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.

"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.

"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.

He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.

“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.

“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.

“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.

“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”

With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.

“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.

“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.

“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.

“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.

“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.

“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.

“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.

“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.

“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.

“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.

“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.

When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.

[orimuraa]

All I need is you on my side - OT7

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆dating gamer enhypen ⨾

۶ৎ gamer!enhypen x fem!reader ┆fluff┆kisses, headcanons┆wc 1.1k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: idk why but i really love this idea so i hope it turned out okay 😭 reblogs and feedback are always appreciated 💗

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

let's get this straight

we all know hee is a big gamer nerd

so i feel like he would be the type of boyfriend who really loves having you on his lap while he plays

he's a streamer so the days where he decides to keep his camera off, he likes to have you with him

if he's yelling too loud into your ear, he will immediately mute and start apologizing

heeseung would be a bit anxious at first to let his fans know about you because he's worried about hate, but his fans are all super supportive of you guys

when he kisses you on stream, the chat goes wild, telling you two to "get a room"

gamer hee is overall so happy to have you by his side and he loves you very much

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

at first, jay would be very hesitant about letting his fanbase know a lot about him, but he later on grows to realize that his fans are all so supportive of him

so that's when he will start bringing you into streams if you're comfy

it started with a late night stream where you were bundled in the big white comforter, sitting on the bed and watching your boyfriend play when his chat noticed you

they kept spamming the chat with "who's the cutie behind you?" or "jay can pull?" or "jay, i love you, but i'm gonna steal that girl from you"

it made jay chuckle once he realized what was going on and so he muted himself before asking if you wanted to say hi

he slowly introduced you and said you were his amazing girlfriend (to which you blushed very hard at) before letting you go with a kiss on the cheek

his whole chat went wild and jay made a mental note that he'll include you more

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

just like hee, jakey here is a huge gamer as well

he's just so grateful for his fans so he loves being super open and honest with them

so, with your permission, jake will tell them about you and maybe even bring you onto stream sometimes

while jake is gaming, you're usually bundled up on the bed watching him or falling asleep

jake tries very hard not to wake you but if he happens to shout too loud, he'll immediately cup his hand over his mouth before rushing over to you, lulling you back to sleep with his magical kisses and small apologies

you often times just admire jake when he streams, not paying any attention to the game but more on how amazing and handsome your boyfriend is

oh! alsoo, his chat may or may not love you more than him >o<

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

i'm going to be very honest right now, i do not believe that sunghoon's fans found out about you via a gaming stream

i feel like it would be one of those "building furniture from ikea, come watch me suffer" types of streams and sunghoon would just casually be answering Q&A's when someone asks if he had a gf

he would smirk before nodding and saying "i do indeed, chat. would you like to meet her?" and then rush to go ask you if you wanna say hello

but besides that, he would actually start playing less violent games because of you

he would start an animal crossing stream in the mix of all his COD or whatever streams, knowing that you would come running to play animal crossing with him

sunghoon's happiest when he sees you enjoying something he treasures a lot and he especially loves teaching you how to play certain games

and we can't forget the teasing <3

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

i lowkey think that sunoo would just stream and play things like zelda breath of the wild, animal crossing, or stardew valley

he's just a chill guy <3

so often times, he'll have you in his lap when he streams and plays his chill games

his chat is always happy to see you there and while sunoo is focused on gaming, you interact with the chat and get to know them better

you sit in the comfortable silence, the clicking of his keyboard and the hum of his pc being the only noise

you like to think that other people find the comfort in sunoo's streams just like you do

coming home after a long day and then being able to just relax with sunoo as he games, giggling when you read the things his chat says

yeah...he's your definition of comfort streamer

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

jungwon is naturally very protective of you and so when he introduced you to his chat and fans, he made sure that they were very respectful to you and he would spend hours scrolling through comments, reporting any hate

he does love having you with him while he streams though

seeing you interact with his chat while he plays games with his friends always makes him smile

his chat names him "#1 y/n simp" because one time, he thought he turned off the camera but he must've missed because his whole audience saw him get up and shower you in kisses before going back to his game

he was definitely trending on sns the next day

not to mention, won also loves showing you off though

like i feel like he's the type to playfully be like "i have a gf and you don't" in a teasing manner

but despite this silliness, he locks in on the games when needed, knowing you understand

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

ni-ki would definitely be the type to start out by not showing your face on streams for privacy, but letting his chat know that you exist

but you soon realized that you wouldn't mind being on stream and so the day he revealed you, his chat went crazy

they all love you a lot and they adore seeing you on ni-ki's lap as he games

you're like his cheerleader

you have no idea what's going on in the game but you will clap for him every time you're sure something good happened

if you reward him with a kiss, he'll turn very red and shy before scolding his chat for spamming "simp"

ni-ki can be very noisy when he games sometimes so you have to remind him to keep it down a bit

his apology is a bunch of kisses and a couple whispered apologies

he's tough on stream but only you can bring out the softer side of him, making the chat love you even more

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @miukidoll