#and so much of it is just. staring. at the page.

[endereies]

TAKING CARE OF YOU - MS

Warnings - Sub!Matt, handjob/blowjob, riding, slight praise kink, no protection, pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweet boy), slight mommy kink, I think that's it? Summary - Matt just wants you to take care of him and distract him from his long day Word count - 4.5k Author's notes - I never know how to structure these warnings, summaries etc but anyway. This took exactly a month to write and I couldn't tell you why. To be honest it isn't easy trying to write Matt whining during class so I am gonna blame that! As always, I do try to make sure it's written realistically and in enough detail but of course I'm open to suggestions etc. On that note, enjoy sub!matt.

You could tell just the day that Matt had. His feet dragging lazily on the floor when he walked through the front door, his keys landing in a small bowl and his bags dropped onto the couch. A long sigh brushed past his lips. His shoulders tense. He steadily removes his jumper, the extra heat and fabric overwhelming his senses. Even if he wasn't sure if you were inside, he didn't call out to check. However, he needed a recharge and he knew he would have to find you to get it.

"Baby..?" After a few calls, he finally found you. You were swaddled in blankets with your headphone covering your ears - no wonder you didn't respond. A new book purchase sat tight in the grip of your palms. When you moved to the top of the next page you smiled at the sight of your boyfriend. He set his eyes on you, entering with his own smile. "Hey..."

His voice was meek, and not due to the proximity. It wasn't just tender, but tired. "Long day?" You'd pick up the subtle hints of his behaviour as you grew to know him and by now you could read him like an open book.

He nods at your care, your book placed on the bedside table. Once he made eye-contact with you, the previous hours rushed to the back of his head. His feet slugged forwards rounding the bed before collapsing next to you. A groan is muffled into the pillow before he shifts his position to be almost completely on top of you. You never complained when he did this, the closeness was something you craved .

"My head is a mess, Chris won't stop yelling any chance he gets and Nick just kept encouraging it. It's- It's too much." He hadn't lied, his head was a mess. The loudness consumed everything and he just needed things to be quiet, managed for him without using any extra brain power.

His body lifts to face you straight on, his breath lingering on your skin. He dropped his head to your neck, grazing his lips against it. They touched hesitantly, placing a soft kiss on your skin before peppering a few more. His mind was in turmoil and he needed you to drown it out. You sighed at the contact which only made his brain fuzz.

"You want something, pretty boy?" A chuckle breaks the following silence, Matt's own lips curling into a weak smile. He nodded as he placed one final kiss. "Can you just- fuck- I just need you, please?"

"Of course baby, you want me on top for you?" After a hum of approval he leant back and off your body, sitting up straight. "Mhm, yeah... I do."

You sat up along side him, tugging at your shirt slightly before prying it off your body. You didn't do it teasingly, yet slow enough to let Matt enjoy it. His gaze dropped low, eyeing your chest thoroughly. A quiet cuss left his mouth as he continued to stare. "What do you want, Matt...you want me to ride you?" Your voice was painfully low, your words tormenting his brain.

"I do but-" He pauses, working through the hesitancy of his thoughts. "Can you suck me first, I don't want it to be too much..." A blush formed on his cheeks, any form of dominance sliding away.

More often than not, Matt would only beg when he wanted to please you, eat you out for hours or treat you perfectly when you wanted to refuse. Yet, you adored the times like this where he would allow himself to fall into his level of trust for you. You adored his comfortability too.

"Of course I can, I'll take care of you, yeah?" Once he nodded you shifted so that you were on either side of his legs, close enough to lean down to him easily. You start with a gentle touch under his shirt, massaging the tense muscles underneath. He sighed beautifully at the contact, the temperature difference between you forcing every nerve ending to burn. You were gentle, avoiding any majorly sensitive areas, rubbing deep.

Then you connected your lips with his, your touch insistent. It's as gentle as anything else you planned to do, featherlike. You give a final peck to his lips, pulling apart to speak as you pulled his shirt. "On or off?"

"Off please." You hummed in approval and pulled the shirt off with some help from Matt. His tattoos were free for you to gawk at, running your finger down them. "You're so pretty, you know that?"

He let out an awkward chuckle, avoiding how the praise made him feel. His body shifted under your gaze, staring at your eyes and following where you looked. You hadn't meant to tease him, but you did always appreciate his tattoos. The thin inks lines crafting designs that only you could touch and adore.

Normally you'd make Matt beg a little more for what he wanted, but the pure plead in his eyes twisted your heart. How could you ignore how sweetly he looked at you. "Want my help now ,baby?" Without waiting for a response, you dragged your hand to his waistline, sliding your hand under his clothing. His hips bucked slightly at your slightly colder hands and settled back when you soothed his skin.

Your fingers hooked onto the fabric, and you looked up to Matt expectantly. "Oh- sorry..." He then lifted his hips for you - a reassuring smile crossed your face as you brought his clothes down to his feet and tugged them from his body. They landed on the floor with a small thud, and you once again brought your attention to his face. Trust was written all over it, and it was warming to see. Eye-contact was held before he nodded with a large swallow, permission granted for you to continue. So you did.

Your hand wanders just as before, reaching under his boxers. Your hands were so close but you were just far enough to make him whine. He was trying hard to be patient, his eyes flickering between where your touch burned his skin and your face, a grin upon your face. His attention is brough back to himself when you attempt to slide his boxers past his hips, yet his rises them again to help you.

Unlike Matt, you were mostly clothed, you were too focused on him to even think about yourself. It pushed Matt into a further state of submission, reliant on you to help him. He falls into the nasty habit of licking his lips, a way of asking for yours, substituting any method he could get when you weren't kissing him. You shifted from his hardening dick and acknowledge the action with a warm smile. "Want a kiss, baby? Would that help?"

It was no shock to you when he nodded intensely, pushing himself up slightly to his elbows. Any reason to get closer to you. You were just as quick to meet him halfway, your lips connecting softly. Matt often found himself relaxed when you kissed him. It reset his breathing, silencing any worry in his mind and now was no different. The yelling of Nick and Chris fell to the back of mind, further if possible. The hints of your mint lip balm coated his lips, the smell rising between you. It softened them - a feeling that he loved. His lips always felt plump between your teeth, grazing the skin before going back to sucking on them. He loved the unpredictable feeling of it, sighing heavily.

His chest pushed against you in heavy breaths, his neediness showing more by the second. Matt whined when you pulled away, wanting your touch more than anything. Normally, he would hide with embarrassment when he made sounds like that - no matter how much you loved them. He didn't care in the moment, maybe he would tomorrow.

His body flopped back on the bed, releasing the strain of his elbows. However, you weren't quite finished, your lips meeting the skin of his neck. While leaning on your left, your right handed stroked the skin as you dragged it down past his stomach at the slowest pace. Matt shuddered beneath you. The light brush from your fingers made his skin tingle, the feeling in his stomach growing.

"You ready..?" Your voice broke the silence gently, looking at him for confirmation once more. He nodded which you felt in the movements of his body. The hold in your eyes adjusted, all touch of his body releasing. "Use your words, I know you can."

The corners of his mouth lifted when you recited the words he always muttered into your ears. He understood your reactions now. "Wan' your mouth, I- I need you, baby.." His voice cracked with need. He didn't want to think.

As much as you wanted to, you weren't going to tease. The pleading in his voice, barely holding back a whimper, made your head spin. This state of Matt was so rare to see - you were going to savour it all. You began with your hands snaking its way to his base, wrapping around it while you positioned yourself lower on the bed.

"Shiiiit..." His grip on the sheets tightened - anything to stop him from squirming. It was slow. It was enough for a slight pressure relief yet he knew what was truly coming. Once the dip in the mattress shifted towards his legs, his head pushed itself back into the pillow. He was now blinded from your action, but he wasn't given much time to regret it before he felt a small warmth down his dick.

The drop of saliva tracked its way down slowly before your palm was placed on top of it. The warmth of your palm and the stickiness of your saliva made him groan. His ribcage heaved an exhale when you steadied the grip you had. A few pumps later and he was fully hard in your hand.

When your hand left his body he planned to protest - beg even. You knew that and waited until his mouth opened to circle your lips around his tip. Instantly, he thrives under you, the sudden development surrounding his senses. Matt knew his body wouldn't hold out like usual but the sensitivity of his body paired with your touch made him cringe at the high possibility of cumming quickly.

You weren't going to blame him, you saw the signs of his body telling you he wouldn't last, you'd been in the same boat before. He treated you with such care, it was only fair to return it. "Shhh, it's alright. Let me take care of you tonight." A soft kiss landed on his hip, a few more on his thighs to settle his senses in any way you could.

This time you let your breath fan over his cock a few times, a signal you would repeat yourself. When you did, the response from Matt wasn't as overwhelming. Matt was desperately trying to hold back his body from moving, it would only bring him closer to the edge and even he wanted to hold on to this feeling. One thing he couldn't stop was his mouth, pure whimpers falling straight from his slacked jaw. It made you so happy - especially when knowing his hesitations to fully let go and give himself over. The trust he had in you made your heart swell and your body hot.

Both of his eyes were clenched shut, knowing that if he looked at the sight of your mouth surrounding his dick, he'd cum instantly. His pretty eyes were missed from your sight but you understood, so you focused on the task at hand. Every thought was gone from your minds, replaced with the feeling of the other. Pure heaven.

Matt wasn't using his mind anymore, every thought he tried to muster fell flat. Murmurs of your name were all that remained, stained with you.

Your mouth got used to the intrusion slowly but surely. You urged it to settle faster, wanting to take him completely and give him what he asked for. "I can't- fuck." You knew what he referred to, you weren't stupid.

Any other words of protest died in his mouth when you take him whole. You gag slightly but you pull back until you were comfortable, your hand taking what your throat couldn't. You knew he'd try and convince you to take your time, holding himself back so that you were content. Yet, torturing his body and mind for you wouldn't happen, you knew him well enough to know when he did.

His hips stutter forward, high-pitched apologies barely understood through his moans. It was a beautiful sound and you craved more. You rise up to focus on his tip. Not only was it more sensitive for him, but it gave you a view of his face that you rarely saw.

Matt's eyes clenched shut with furrowed brows, his head lolled back, and his mouth parted with wet lips. Pure pleasure written on his face, and it made all that more eager to please. His chest rose and fell quickly, a sign he was trying to tense himself and hold back. You didn't care if he finished quicker than normal - it was about him after all. Replacing your mouth with your hands, you spoke up. "Don't do that, baby. I just want you to relax, can you do that for mommy.."

Instantly, he attempted to relax, refraining from his usual tactics. The nickname stirred in his head. It was all he could focus on, his mental capacity being full of you. Matt nodded, knowing if he opened his mouth, only a shy whimper would escape. Satisfied, you returned the warmth of your mouth to his cock, pushing deep. The feeling had become familiar to you by now, your throat welcoming the intrusion.

Matt groaned again, louder than before. You could tell he was close by the twitch in his hips, stuttering forward to increase the friction. One hand, previously wrapped around his dick, moves to rub the skin on his hips. A soothing gesture to help ground him. You knew Matt, he'd get lost of the feeling of his approaching orgasm and overwhelm himself. The action of your palm resulted in a heavy sigh and soft repeating whimpers.

"Plea- please.. m'close." You barely heard his voice, hidden in his words. If only you weren't so focused on every sound he made. You smiled to yourself, content in your understanding of him. It wouldn't be long until he came - you wanted to make the last moments euphoric.

A shaky moan came from his throat, wavering until it fell into whimpers, all for that cycle to start again. Both of your hands relaxed into a rhythm, pumping whatever ever you could between your fingers whilst the soft warmth of your lips bobbed up and down. It was constant pleasure what Matt, every fibre pushing that feeling forwards. His arm reached forwards to your shoulder, gripping it and nursing the skin in a way to ground himself. One of your hands left his cock, the other working doubly as hard, so that you could ground him in the feeling of your hand in his.

His palms were sweaty, uncommon for him. As much as that was an uncomfortable sensation, you held on strong. He needed this, needed you. His grip fluctuated in strength, stronger when his orgasm drew closer.

"You can cum whenever you need to, yeah? Just let go..." Matt hadn't even processed the loss of your mouth, saliva still be coated around his dick, only when you return did the temperature make him thrive.

Focusing on Matt, you continued that old routine. You sucked minutely harder, your tongue grazing a vein, but it was exactly what Matt needed. He groaned continuously - unable to stay quiet if he tried. With another stutter of his hips he climaxed hard.

The grip on your shoulder tightened, a mark beginning to form on your skin. Forgetting your hands, you pushed your mouth fully onto Matt's dick, gagging slightly. Strings of whimpers came from Matt, which only egged you on. "Fuckfuckfuckkk-"

A warm substance eased into your mouth, efficiently gathering itself on your tongue. You stuck it out to show Matt before pulling it back into your mouth to swallow it. His eyes widened at the sight, and he groaned with a happy smile lingering by his cheeks. "You're fucking killing me" He spoke happily between moans as you prolonged his orgasm to spread the feeling of bliss.

Once he started to writhe, you released him, pulling your body up to meet him one on one. His expression was already dopey and the pure content made you smile. "You feeling better?"

He nodded graciously. "Definitely, thank you so much, baby..." His arm mustered the energy to lift its way to your jawline, tracing the skin atop the bone smoothly. Admiration stood between you both momentarily, pure love, and a silent thank you being translated. The kiss that followed was soft. One would question if there was any lust in it at all. The traces of his orgasm lingered on your tongue, the taste turning you both on.

You pulled apart, each of your lips not wanting to let go. "You still want me to ride you?" Elegant tones suspended from your mouth, your breath mingling with his. He looked away for a moment - breaking the eye contact. "I do... is that okay?"

You wanted to melt at the way he spoke and you were unable to stop the smile that flooded your face. "Of course I can, are you okay to go now?" He nodded once more, his stomach tensing slightly. You noticed this an decided to test him. When your hand inched closer to his dick and wrapped around the base of his dick. His stomach and surrounding muscles flexed harder with an inhale he was unfortunate to expel. "Impatient are we?"

"Shut up... I wanna please you too, baby. That's all." The grip you had on him loosened, his gaze falling anywhere else to avoid how your lips lifted. "Matt, tonight is about you, don't stress about me. You always make me feel so good anyway"

The way he faced you was immediate - praise sinking into his mind. That wasn't the effect you had initially wanted, but with the way his cheeks flushed, you were glad it worked out that way. He was still hesitant to truly acknowledge the words but they slipped out none the less. "Yeah?"

"Mhm, always," You paused your speech, letting the divide change the topic for you. "You ready now?" This time, his response had more confidence to it, nodding happily and shuffling across the sheets to make his position easier for you.

"I'm gonna go slow because I haven't stretched yet, I don't mean to tease, okay baby?" Going slow was always a tease for the both of you, wanting each other has close and as quick as possible. But pleasure was the main focus at the moment. The praise and the way your hand gently stroked at this dick made him half-hard again, so you took action. The bottoms that hugged your waist were pulled down at the same rate as your shirt. Goosebumps rose to your skin as you were no longer wrapped in an extra later or warmth. To make things slightly easier, you brought your underwear down too, slick starting to gather.

Your body moved and shuffled up the bed, placing both your knees to rest beside his. Both your eyes kept flickering between his face and where your bodies aimed to connect, making sure he was on the same page. He noticed this quickly and chuckled lowly. "I'm fine, I promise, just go slow for both of us..."

With his words of confidence, you nodded, focusing all attention onto his dick. One hand kept your weight up while another held his dick so you could lower down onto him. When your pussy enveloped around his tip, you both sucked in a deep breath, letting it go with a laugh at the joint reaction.

Matt's head lolled back again as you pushed down a little further. With no prep, the feeling of you wrapped snug around him had increased. Matt wasn't sure if heaven could feel better than this. Your heart beat strengthened alongside the arousal in your core, thudding steadily in your chest.

When you sunk completely and bottomed out, Matt began to bring his head back to you. His gaze settled on your face, your mouth in a permanent 'o'. Your eyes lingered at the connection between you. If he wasn't already hard then the pure sight of you on his cock certainly would make him so. You looked up and saw his eyes all over you and it only encouraged you. "See something you like?"

You had never seen his eyes switch from your body to your own eyes faster, the action nearly evaporating your focus. There is no longer a burn uncomfortably rising at your core and so you softly begin moving, lifting your hips only to slip back down to his pelvis. Your body naturally grinds forwards simultaneously. Everything is overwhelming for him, his cock still sensitive from the past orgasm – the current position not helping his mind flow. Matt’s eyes twinkle at the sight in front of him.

The friction is bliss, and he soon starts to naturally follow every move you take. His eyes follow too, watching as your tits bounce with every rise and fall you take, watching your ass slap every second, hearing the slick build between you as you each come closer to a release. Matt no longer has any sense of control. His mind runs in a permanent blur, so lost in pleasure speaking grew harder to muster. His body was mush in the best way possible. Every ounce of trust he had fell into you.

“Fuck- you feel so good, baby I-“ He began getting vocal again, comfortable in the new level on intimacy. “Hmm, you feel good? You’re making me feel good too baby.” The praise led him to a pathetic moan – one he’s normally chastise himself for but caring about what he sounded like was the last thing on his mind.

The feeling in his abdomen felt different to before, stronger. Every clench of your walls clouded in his mind, his hips bucking that extra distance. Your hands fell to his chest and shoulders – aiming for support. He saw the sign of tiredness in your thighs as you pace broke every so often. Matt attempted to aid you with his own arms resting on your hips, gripping the skin to take a bit of the weight. Yet, with his whole being so full of pleasure, it quickly turned into his way of grounding himself. White crescents slowly started to seep into your skin yet neither of you cared.

Pants and moans were exchanged between you continuously, steady and concise. “Sweetheart… I- I’m getting close… fuck” The way his words squeaked as you closed around him make the feeling in your gut surge. You tried to speak right away but when you practically felt him throb, a whimper escaped instead. Rather than fight it, you pried one of his hands away from your hips and hovering it just above one of your tits. “You want to touch me, Matt?”

The sight made his eyes force themselves shut, his head tilting back in case he had second thoughts. “As- as much as I want that… I think I’d cum instantly... wan- wanna cum with you.”

A chuckle left your lips as you heard him speak, the bluntness of his ‘issue’ catching you off guard. “Oh baby, I don’t care when you cum, you can whenever you want to.” He didn’t respond to your words, only shaking his head quickly – insistent on his claim. You want to question it, your chest being one of his favourite things, to look at, to touch, to own, yet your thoughts are obstructed by the pull down of your hips onto his cock. His hand returns to your hips, massaging the skin in between each tense squeeze. You’re brought quickly to the brink of pleasure. Hearing his moans when you jerked him to the frail whimpers as your rode him made your orgasm grow closer and closer.

No matter how you had Matt, it was a euphoric sight. His eyes remained glued shut but his mouth never was. He wasn’t able to with the whines interrupting him.

Between growing tired and an impending release, it was harder to rise and fall as quick as when you first began, and so you resorted to primarily grinding onto his dick. It managed to push Matt deeper for longer while brushing past your clit in the best way. You had now understood why Matt closed his eyes because even you had to drag your eyes away for a moment.

“Matt… can you open your eyes sweet boy? D-don’t you wanna… wanna see me cum?” The nickname alone made his eyes go wide before rolling back into his head, nodding as the only way to respond. His dick twitched again signalling his orgasm so with all the strength you could muster, you decided to make your body rise and sink down repeatedly. His grip and your weight on his chest increased dramatically – so did the noise.

He wasn’t expecting such a rise of movement and he had no clue how to handle it. His stomach flexed over and over again – his mind full of incoherent thoughts. He was worried that he’d tear up over how hard his eyes blinked. It took everything to look up at you and before he knew it, his fingers tapped several times on your thigh. “Shit- I-”

His orgasm took over and his cum leaked inside of you. Whimpers and pants flourished whilst you rode him through his high, inevitably bringing you to yours. Both of your hands switched to his shoulders just so that you had something to grip. You clench hard around him and sink down fully in exhaustion.

Fatigue makes its way through both of you and it takes you a second to push through the sensitivity of coming off of him. You end up flopping next to him, a dopey smile on his face. “Do you feel better…”

His sass immediately returns as he rolls his eyes and drags his hands over his face “Is that even a question.” He stares at the ceiling, pausing before he continues. “Definitely, thank you sweetheart.”

A smile instantly rose to your cheeks, pulling his head towards you so that you can place a small kiss into his hair, then his temple, cheeks and the edge of his mouth. “Always sweet boy. Now, let’s get cleaned up and get some rest. Sound good?”

He nodded his head gratefully and pushed himself onto his elbows. “Can we watch gravity falls?” Matt just stares up at you with wide and innocent eyes, and you find yourself falling victim to it.

“Anything you want.”

[scarletwinterxx]

LOVE YOUR FICSS AHHH got me kicking my feet🥰 could i req for a bestfriends to lovers with dino! maybe where the members keep teasing him lol tyyy if you take this🫶🏼

hiiiii ~ so.... i got.... carried away?? hahah i was suppose to make it a cute short scenario but i loved it way tooooo much ugh i'm a sucker for bff to lovers trope so here we are😅😅 it's like if you combine mary's song and the alchemy (by tswift), that's how i would describe this fic

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The neon glow of Seoul’s streets reflects off the café window as you stir your latte, the warmth of the cup pressing against your palms. Across from you, Chan is slouched in his chair, one hand lazily swirling his iced latte, the other casually flicking a stray sugar packet at you.

“You good?” you ask, nudging his shin under the table.

He grins, that boyish smirk you’ve seen a thousand times. “Yeah, just thinking about Wonwoo-hyung. He said something dumb again.”

You snort at what he said making Chan chuckle, shaking his head. “He said everyone’s just waiting for us to realize we’re in love.”

You almost choke on your drink. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah. Apparently, Wonwoo-hyung, Seungkwan, and Vernon-hyung are betting on when it’ll happen.”

You blink at him. “They need new hobbies.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Dino exclaims, looking far too pleased that you’re on the same page. “But it got me thinking”

“That’s dangerous”

“Shut up,” he laughs, bumping his foot against yours. “I just don’t get why they think that. I mean, we’re best friends. That’s it.”

“Right?” You lean back, crossing your arms. “It’s not like we’re that close.”

He scoffs. “Exactly! I mean, sure, I always make sure you eat and never let you walk home alone, and you always text me to remind me to bring an umbrella when it rains—”

“Yeah, and we always share food and buy each other coffee without asking…” you mutter, looking at the toast you were sharing moments ago, he called dibs on the strawberries and you let him have it. You hate strawberries.

“And I always know what you’re thinking just by looking at you,” he adds.

You frown. “Okay, that’s normal, though.”

“Super normal.”

“Totally platonic.”

“Exactly.”

Silence settles between you, the sounds of the café humming in the background. Dino is staring at you, and you’re staring at him, and suddenly you’re both squinting like you’ve just tried to read the fine print of a sketchy contract.

“…Do we sound like a couple?” you ask hesitantly.

Dino tilts his head, considering. “Nah.”

“Right?”

“Right.”

Another beat of silence.

“…But if we were a couple, I’d totally be the better half,” he says, grinning. You kick his shin under the table

“Oh, please if anything, I would be the better half.”

Dino just laughs, shaking his head, and you both go back to your drinks like the conversation never happened.

The university field is still buzzing with excitement after the match, but your attention is on one person—Chan. He’s grinning, sweaty, and full of energy as he jogs toward you, clearly eager to hear your praise.

“You saw that, right?” he asks, eyes sparkling.

He plays for the university's soccer team. And you being bestfriend, has never missed a single game. ever.

“You think I didn’t?” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed. “You were alright, I guess.”

“Alright?!” He gapes at you like you’ve just insulted his entire existence. “I carried this game.”

Before you can react, he reaches out and flicks your forehead his usual way of showing affection. You swat at his arm, but he just grins wider.

From behind you, Seungkwan sighs dramatically. “Seriously, how do you both not see it?”

You ignore him, focusing instead on the way Chan’s hand lingers on your wrist a little longer than necessary.

The restaurant is buzzing with life, the scent of sizzling meat filling the air as you, Chan, Vernon, and Seungkwan settle into your seats. Chan is busy grilling, as usual, because he claims he “doesn’t trust any of you with the meat.” You let him, happily reaching for a side dish while Vernon sips on his iced tea.

“You were a little too into the game today,” Vernon comments, glancing at you

You shrug. “I always cheer for Chan.”

Seungkwan snorts. “Yeah, and only for Chan.”

You’re about to argue when someone steps up to your table. You glance up, only to see a guy in a jersey from the opposing team standing there, smiling at you.

“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, noticed you cheering during the game. You seemed really into it.”

Chan’s hand pauses mid-air, chopsticks still holding a piece of meat

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you reply, not sure where this is going.

“I was wondering,” the player continues, shifting on his feet. “Would it be okay if I got your number?”

Silence.

Vernon raises an eyebrow. Seungkwan’s mouth falls open slightly, clearly ready to cause chaos. And Chan? Chan sets his chopsticks down very slowly.

You blink, caught off guard. “Oh. Um—”

“She’s good,” Chan says before you can even process an answer. His voice is light, but you know him too well. There’s something sharp underneath it.

The player looks at him, then back at you. “Oh—are you guys…?”

“Nope,” Seungkwan answers way too fast. Then he smirks. “But go on. I wanna see how this plays out.”

Chan shoots him a glare before turning back to the guy, forcing a smile. “She’s not interested.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Excuse me?”

Chan doesn’t even look at you. “Right?” he prompts, acting like this is a completely normal thing to do.

You open your mouth, then close it. Then look at the player, who is now shifting awkwardly under the weight of whatever weird tension is happening.

“…I mean, I guess I’m not?” you say, though you’re still trying to figure out why you let Chan answer for you.

The player sighs, nodding. “Got it. Well, it was worth a shot. Enjoy your dinner.”

As soon as he walks away, Seungkwan loses it.

“Oh my GOD,” he cackles, slapping the table. “Did you see yourself, Chan? You looked ready to throw hands.”

“I did not,” Chan grumbles, picking up his chopsticks again.

Vernon hums thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

You turn to Chan, arms crossed. “Care to explain what that was?”

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “I just saved you from giving your number to some random guy. You’re welcome.”

Seungkwan whistles. “Possessive much?”

Chan glares. “I’m not possessive.”

“Dude, you almost turned that meat into charcoal the second he walked up,” Vernon points out.

You smirk, leaning closer. “Chan… were you jealous?”

He scoffs, eyes flicking to yours before quickly looking away. “Eat your food.”

You don’t push it, but as you take a bite, you notice his ears are very, very red.

Later when the four of you are done you leave the restaurant, full and still giggling from Seungkwan’s dramatic reenactment of Chan’s “alpha male” moment. Especially you. You're having way too much fun with this.

“So, Chan,” you drawl, walking beside him with a mischievous grin. “You never answered my question.”

He sighs, already looking exhausted. “What question?”

“The one about you being jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous.”

Vernon snickers. “Sure, man.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “So, if I had given that guy my number, you would’ve been totally fine with it?”

“Yep,” Chan replies too quickly, staring straight ahead.

Seungkwan gasps dramatically. “Liar.”

You smirk, stepping a little closer. “So if he had asked me out, you wouldn’t have cared at all?”

Chan exhales through his nose, his patience clearly wearing thin. You think you’ve won until he suddenly stops walking. Before you can react, he reaches for the hood of your jacket, yanks it over your head, and pulls the strings tight until only the tip of your nose is peeking out.

“CH—MMMPH!” You flail your arms, completely trapped in your own hoodie.

Vernon straight-up wheezes. Seungkwan is on the ground.

Chan steps behind you, places his hands firmly on your shoulders, and starts pushing you forward.

“There,” he says, smug. “Now you can’t tease me if you can’t see me.”

“LET ME OUT!” you shout, voice muffled.

“Nope.”

“I WILL END YOU.”

“Good luck with that,” he chirps, steering you like a malfunctioning shopping cart.

You struggle but Chan keeps a firm grip, easily guiding you down the street while you helplessly stomp forward.

“You’re such a child,” you grumble.

“And you’re annoying,” he replies. “So this is fair.”

You huff, but underneath it all, you’re grinning. Because no matter how ridiculous he is, no matter how much he denies it—Chan absolutely, definitely cares.

A couple of days passed and now you’re not speaking to Chan.

It started over something ridiculously small—so small that, if you really thought about it, you couldn’t even remember the exact reason it escalated. But what mattered was that it did.

One minute, you were bickering over something dumb, like him eating the last piece of tteokbokki when you clearly had your chopsticks ready to grab it. The next, you were snapping at each other, stubbornness clashing until you finally said, “You know what? Fine.” And then you stopped talking to him.

And because Chan is just as stubborn as you, he decided, Fine. Two can play that game.

So now, you’re both ignoring each other.

It’s been three days.

At first, it was just a cold shoulder situation. Him sitting on the opposite side of the group when you all hung out, you pretending he didn’t exist. But then, it turned into avoiding each other altogether. You didn’t text him. He didn’t text you. You saw him walking into a café the other day and literally turned around.

And now, everyone else has definitely noticed.

“Okay, what is going on?” Seungkwan asks, throwing his hands up.

You sip your drink calmly, acting unbothered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Vernon raises a brow. “You and Chan haven’t said a single word to each other since we all sat down.”

“And?” you say, playing with your straw.

Wonwoo, who’s been watching silently, smirks. “Oh, this is fun.”

From across the table, Chan scoffs. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say.”

Your eye twitches. Oh, so he does want to play this game?

“Same,” you reply smoothly. “Silence is peaceful.”

Seungkwan fake gags. “I hate this. I hate this. Fix it.”

“Seriously, what happened?” Vernon sighs, looking back and forth between the two of you

Chan shrugs, avoiding eye contact with you. “Nothing.”

You mimic his movement. “Nothing at all.”

Seungkwan claps his hands together. “Okay, I don’t know what kind of pride battle is happening here, but I hate being collateral damage. Fix. It.”

You ignore him, grabbing a fry from your plate. But as you do, Chan—who is apparently also reaching for a fry at the same time—accidentally brushes his fingers against yours.

It’s quick. Barely a second.

But it feels like a moment.

You both freeze.

Your brain says, Move your hand. But your hand? It stays right there. Chan pulls away first, clearing his throat. He grabs his drink and takes a very forced sip. The others are watching.

Wonwoo exchanges a glance with Vernon, who just shakes his head like he can’t believe this is happening. Seungkwan is straight-up vibrating with frustration.

“Are you guys seriously fighting over something dumb?” Seungkwan finally asks. “I swear to God, if this is about food—”

“It’s not about food,” you snap.

Chan scoffs. “Well, technically, it started with food.”

You glare at him. “I knew you did that on purpose.”

He crosses his arms. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Oh, so it was just a coincidence that you stole my tteokbokki right before I grabbed it?”

“Yes?”

The table erupts.

“OH MY GOD,” Seungkwan yells. “THIS WHOLE THING IS ABOUT FOOD?!”

Vernon leans back in his seat, covering his face. “This is a nightmare.”

Wonwoo actually laughs. “So, neither of you broke the silence first because of that?”

You huff, crossing your arms. “It’s the principle of it.”

Chan nods. “Exactly.”

Seungkwan groans, dragging his hands down his face. “You two are so dumb. Just apologize and move on.”

Silence. You glance at Chan. He glances at you but neither of you speaks.

“Oh, this is gonna take forever.”

Another day has passed. The silence is definitely something you're not used to but you went on with your life.

Today you had gym. The moment your gym professor announced that today’s class was going to be track, you felt impending doom settle in your bones. You were not built for this.

Running? Sure, in an emergency. But sprinting laps for fun? Absolutely not.

And of course, because life is so kind to you, disaster struck right when you were about to finish your second lap. One second, you were focused on not dying. The next, your foot caught on absolutely nothing (because the universe simply hates you), and you went down hard.

Pain shot up your ankle instantly, and you barely had time to process the embarrassment before your professor and a classmate rushed over.

"Are you okay?" your professor asked, already kneeling beside you

You winced, testing your foot. "Uh… no?"

Your classmate, a guy from your department, helped you up while you tried not to cry at how much your ankle hurt. Your professor sighed, already pulling out his phone. "Let's get you to the clinic."

So that’s how you ended up here.

Sitting on the clinic bed, holding an ice pack to your now-swollen ankle, wondering how you were going to get home later. Then, just as you were about to doze off from sheer exhaustion...

BANG!

The clinic door slammed open so hard it rattled on its hinges.

You nearly jumped out of your skin. The nurse at the desk let out a startled yelp. And standing in the doorway, panting like he’d just fought for his life, was none other than Lee Chan.

His hair was a mess, his hoodie was slipping off one shoulder, and he looked wrecked.

"Where is she?" he demanded between ragged breaths.

The nurse blinked. "Uh—"

Then he spotted you.

His eyes locked onto your ankle, wrapped in ice, and his whole body stiffened. In the next second, he rushed to your side, grabbing onto the edge of the bed as he caught his breath.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, voice still breathless.

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned. "Chan?"

"Yeah, it's me, obviously!" he snapped, still trying to breathe properly. "I ran across campus! Ran. For you. So start talking—why are you hurt?!"

You stared at him. "How did you even—"

"Vernon," he answered immediately. "Somehow, he found out before I did and called me, and now I’m here. So explain."

You hesitated, suddenly feeling… weird. The two of you were still ignoring each other. You hadn’t spoken in days. And yet, here he was, looking like he’d just sprinted a full marathon with zero hesitation just because you got hurt.

Your heart did something stupid.

"... I tripped."

Chan deadpanned. "You tripped?"

"Yes."

"On what?"

You cleared your throat. "...Air."

"You tripped on air?!" He dragged a hand down his face. "Oh my God."

You scowled, crossing your arms. "Look, it happened, okay? You don’t have to be so dramatic about it."

"Dramatic?" He gaped at you. "You injured yourself! Of course I’m dramatic!"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't ignore the way your chest felt warm. The nurse cleared her throat. "If you're done yelling at each other, she just has a mild sprain. No fracture. She just needs to rest it."

Chan let out a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Okay. Good."

Then, without hesitation, he gently grabbed your ankle, adjusting the ice pack like it was the most natural thing in the world. You stiffened, watching him.

"You idiot," he muttered, shaking his head. "Who gets injured running on a track?"

"Me, apparently," you mumbled.

He sighed. "Of course it’s you."

Silence.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was, how he hadn't hesitated to come running for you even after all the ignoring.

"...You didn't have to come," you muttered.

Chan scoffed, finally looking up at you. "Don't be stupid. Of course I did."

And just like that, your stupid heart did another stupid thing.

After that, Chan refuses to leave your side. The moment the nurse gives you clearance to leave, he slings your arm over his shoulder and practically carries you out of the clinic before you can even protest.

“Chan, I can walk,” you grumble, trying to wriggle out of his hold.

“Oh, really?” He looks down at you. “Go on, then. Walk.”

You press your lips together. Your ankle still throbs, and you know if you put weight on it, you’ll probably just collapse. But admitting that out loud? Never.

Chan smirks, already knowing. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

You scowl. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he sing-songs, leading you toward the front of the campus.

You don’t know when he did it, but at some point, he called Wonwoo. Because by the time you both reach the parking lot, Wonwoo is already waiting by his car, arms crossed.

He looks between you and Chan, then sighs. “Do I even want to know what happened?”

Chan grins. “She tripped on air and almost died.”

You groan. “I did not almost die.”

“She has a sprained ankle,” Chan tells him, ignoring you completely. “So, obviously, we need a ride.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “We?”

Chan just nods like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah. I have to make sure she gets home safe.”

You snort. “You just don’t want to go to your next class.”

Chan gasps, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “How dare you? I am a devoted best friend who—okay, yeah, I also don’t want to go to class.”

Wonwoo sighs. “Unbelievable.” But despite all his complaints, he still opens the car door for you, because at the end of the day, Chan is his not-so-secret favorite.

As Chan helps you into the car, you glance up at Wonwoo, smirking. “You know you can say no to him, right?”

Wonwoo shuts the door and deadpans, “No, I can’t.”

From the driver’s seat, he glares at Chan. “And he knows that.”

Chan just grins, victorious. “I absolutely do.”

By the time Wonwoo pulls up in front of your apartment, you’re still trying to process the absolute insanity that is Lee Chan.

“You are not staying over,” you say firmly, already reaching for the car door handle.

Chan, completely ignoring you, hops out of the car and immediately rushes to your side to help you out because, despite how annoying he is, he still refuses to let you walk on your own.

Wonwoo rolls down his window, smirking. “Have fun dealing with him.”

You scowl. “You could stop him, you know.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I could… but I won’t.” Then he turns to Chan. “Don’t burn her place down.”

Chan grins. “No promises!”

Wonwoo sighs like he’s questioning all of his life choices, then drives off, leaving you stuck with the human disaster next to you.

Chan slings your arm over his shoulder again, walking you toward the door. “Alright, let’s get you inside. Do you have food? Should I order something? Do you need pillows? A wheelchair? Life insurance?”

You groan. “Chan, you are not my nurse—”

“Yet here I am,” he says smugly, guiding you into the apartment. The moment you sit down on the couch, Chan kicks off his shoes and makes himself at home like he’s lived here his whole life.

Which, to be fair, he practically has.

He starts rummaging through your kitchen. “Okay, so what’s for dinner? Do you have anything edible?”

You glare at him. “How about you go home and eat there?”

He gasps, offended. “Wow. This is how you treat the person who ran across campus for you?”

You throw a pillow at him. “GO HOME.”

He catches it easily, tossing it onto the couch before coming over and sitting next to you. “Nope. Not happening.”

You sigh, leaning your head back. “Why are you like this?”

Chan shrugs. “Because you’re injured, and someone has to make sure you don’t do anything dumb again.”

You narrow your eyes. “You love calling me dumb, huh?”

He grins. “It’s because you are.”

You reach over to smack him, but he dodges, laughing.

Then, without warning, he stands up and claps his hands together. “Alright, let’s get you some food and then ice your ankle again.”

You stare at him.

And this is why everyone thinks the two of you are dating. Because, despite the relentless teasing, despite the arguing and the chaos that follows wherever you go—Chan is still Chan.

Caring. Attentive. There, always.

You sigh, finally giving up. “Fine. But you’re ordering.”

Chan grins, already pulling out his phone. “Knew you’d cave.”

You roll your eyes, but as he starts scrolling through food options, you can’t help but smile. Maybe having him around isn’t so bad.

Just as you’re about to get comfortable in bed, you hear Chan’s voice from the living room. At first, you assume he’s talking to himself—because honestly, he does that sometimes—but then you hear your mom’s name.

Your stomach drops.

Oh, no.

You push the door open just in time to hear him say “Yeah, she totally wiped out during gym class—sprained her ankle and everything.”

You gasp. “Chan, what the—”

He turns, holding up a finger to silence you while grinning like the menace he is. “Uh-huh. Exactly. She’s way too clumsy, Auntie. I keep telling her to be more careful, but does she listen? Nope.”

You limp toward him as fast as your injury allows. “Hang up! Right now!”

Chan dodges your grab like a trained professional and keeps talking. “No, no, she’s fine. I made sure of it. I called Wonwoo hyung to drive us home, wrapped her ankle properly, even made her eat dinner—” He pauses, then smirks. “Yeah, I am the best, aren’t I?”

You groan, flopping onto the couch in defeat. “I cannot believe you called my mom.”

Chan finally acknowledges you, holding out the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”

You glare. “I hate you.” You snatch the phone from his hand, pressing it to your ear. “Mom, I’m fine. I don’t know why Chan is making it sound like I barely survived.”

Your mother scoffs. “Because you’re you. Of course, I’m going to worry!”

You sigh. “I was going to tell you. Eventually.”

“Eventually?” she repeats. “If it weren’t for Chan, I wouldn’t have known at all!”

Chan smirks, leaning back on the couch. “You’re welcome.”

You glare at him, but your mom keeps going.

“You better listen to Chan and rest, okay? No unnecessary moving around!”

You groan. “Mom—”

“Promise me.”

You sigh. “Fine. I promise.”

“Good. Now give the phone back to Chan.”

“What? Why?”

Chan immediately reaches for the phone. “Because she likes me more.”

You slap his hand away but hand it over anyway. The moment he takes it, his entire tone changes. “Yes, Auntie? Oh, of course! I’ll make sure she rests. No funny business, I promise.”

You stare at him in horror. “You are such a suck-up.”

He waves you off, still charming your mother over the phone. “Yeah, I’ll stay over tonight just to make sure she doesn’t do anything dumb—”

“CHAN!”

He laughs but eventually wraps up the call, you scowl at him “I cannot believe you just did that.”

Chan shrugs, looking way too pleased with himself. “What can I say? Your mom adores me.”

You cross your arms. “You’re lucky my ankle is sprained, or I’d kick you out.”

A few days pass, and your ankle is mostly healed, which means Chan has finally stopped hovering like a mother hen.

Mostly.

(He still side-eyes you every time you walk too fast, but hey—progress.)

Now, though, you have another problem. Chan’s birthday is coming up. So is Valentine’s Day and because the universe apparently loves to make your life difficult, they’re only a few days apart.

You groan, flopping onto your bed as you scroll through your phone for ideas.

Something soccer-related? Too predictable.

Something music-related? He already has everything.

Something sentimental? Absolutely not.

You don’t even realize you’re pouting until you hear a familiar voice.

“What’s with that face?”

You jolt up. Chan is leaning against your doorframe, arms crossed, a very smug grin on his face.

You blink. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see you looking miserable.” He tilts his head. “What, you failing a test or something?”

You scoff. “Excuse you, I don’t fail tests.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

You scramble for an excuse. “Uh—thinking about what to eat.”

Chan snorts. “Wow. Must be so hard for you.”

"Fine I was thinking about what to get you for your birthday, what do you want?" You ask him

“A new soccer bag?”

“No.”

“Sneakers?”

“Nope.”

“A lifetime supply of banana milk?”

Chan actually pauses at that one, looking tempted. But then he shakes his head. “Nah.”

You groan, flopping onto his couch dramatically. “Chan. It’s your birthday. You have to want something.”

He smirks. “I do.”

You sit up immediately. “Okay, what? Tell me.”

He hesitates, then sighs, looking almost embarrassed. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“Oh, I’m definitely laughing now.”

Chan glares. “Never mind.”

“No, no, c’mon! Tell me!” You poke his arm. “What do you want?”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. Then, finally—after a ridiculous amount of dramatic silence—he mutters,

“Your brownies.”

You blink. “Wait, what?”

He shrugs, suddenly very interested in his hands. “Your brownies. The ones you bake sometimes.”

You stare at him, waiting for him to say more. That’s it? That’s what he wants? Not some expensive gift, not some rare collectible—just… brownies?

You snort. “You’re such a loser.”

Chan glares. “See? I knew you were gonna laugh!”

You grin. “I am laughing. But also—seriously? That’s all you want?”

He shrugs again. “Yeah. They’re my favorite.”

And okay, fine. Maybe that makes your heart do a tiny stupid little somersault. Instead, you stand up, stretching.

“Alright. If the birthday boy wants brownies, then the birthday boy gets brownies.”

Chan blinks. “Wait, really?”

You smirk. “Obviously. You think I’d deny you your wish for your birthday?”

“…Kinda, yeah.”

You grab a pillow and whack him with it.

Chan shows up at your place way too early for someone whose only birthday wish is brownies. You open the door, squinting. “Didn’t we agree on noon?”

He grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, but I got excited.”

You cross your arms. “You’re acting like I’m baking you a five-star gourmet meal and not just brownies.”

Chan gasps. “How dare you undermine the greatness of your brownies?”

You roll your eyes but step aside to let him in. He immediately makes himself at home, plopping onto the kitchen counter like he belongs there.

You narrow your eyes. “What are you doing?”

He shrugs. “Watching.”

“…Why?”

“Because I want to.”

You scoff. “Chan, it’s just brownies.”

“Exactly. My brownies. I need to make sure you don’t mess them up.”

You pick up a wooden spoon and point it at him. “You’re this close to getting kicked out.”

He grins. “No, I’m not.”

You sigh, shaking your head, and start gathering ingredients. The entire time, Chan stays glued to the counter, swinging his legs like an actual kid.

At one point, he even starts narrating. “And here we see the great baker in her natural habitat…”

You throw a marshmallow at him. “Shut up.”

He just laughs, completely unbothered.

But, honestly? The way his eyes light up every time you mix something, or pour the batter, or literally just exist is… kind of stupidly cute. You shove that thought way down.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you pull the brownies out of the oven.

Chan immediately tries to grab one.

You smack his hand away. “They’re hot, idiot.”

He pouts. “But it’s my birthday.”

You arch a brow. “And?”

He sighs dramatically, leaning back. “Wow. Some best friend you are.”

You roll your eyes but grab a fork, cutting off a tiny piece and blowing on it before holding it out.

Chan blinks. “Wait, you’re actually—?”

“Shut up and eat.”

He grins, leaning in to take the bite, and the second he does, his entire face lights up.

“Oh my God.” He looks so happy it’s ridiculous. “I forgot how good these are.”

You smirk. “Told you.”

Chan hums in satisfaction, still chewing. “Best birthday gift ever.”

And just like that, your stomach does that stupid flip again.

You ignore it. Instead, you grab a brownie for yourself and take a bite, leaning against the counter. “Happy birthday, loser.”

Chan, still grinning, nudges your shoulder. “Thanks, loser.”

You grab the brownies again, sticking a couple of candles in one. “Alright, birthday boy,” you say, lighting them up. “Make a wish.”

Chan chuckles but nods, clasping his hands together. He closes his eyes, his brows furrowing just slightly in thought. But then right before he blows out the candles his eyes snap open and land directly on you.

Your breath catches.

It’s only for a split second—just a moment of lingering eye contact—but it feels like something shifts.

Like maybe, just maybe, his wish has something to do with you.

And then the candles are out, the moment gone, and Chan is grinning like nothing happened. Chan leans back, watching the faint trail of smoke disappear from the extinguished candles. Then, with that smug-but-soft look of his, he says,

“This is the 26th birthday I’ve spent with you.”

You snort. “I mean, yeah. We’ve literally known each other since birth.”

Chan grins. “Exactly. That means I’ve never had a birthday without you.”

You roll your eyes. “That just means our moms were too obsessed with each other to celebrate separately.”

But Chan just shrugs. “Or maybe the universe knew I needed you.”

And just like that, your brain completely short-circuits.

You blink at him, your stomach doing that stupid flip again, and suddenly, you don’t know where to look. The worst part? He says it so casually. Like he isn’t out here dropping the most casually sentimental thing you’ve ever heard.

You clear your throat, forcing out a laugh. “Wow. That’s so cheesy. Who taught you that?”

Chan smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You grab a brownie and shove it into his mouth. “Stop talking.”

He just laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, and chews happily.

And while he’s busy enjoying his food, you are left trying to process the very inconvenient warmth spreading through your chest.

After that moment with Chan, you tried to bury it in your mind and distract yourself with something else. So, naturally, you bury yourself in schoolwork.

Not that you want to—your professor kind of forces your hand when they assign a massive research project. But the only silver lining? You get partnered up with Mark Lee.

Yes, that Mark Lee.

The one who’s absurdly well-known on campus. The one who’s nice to everyone, always willing to help. The one who somehow juggles being an honor student, an athlete, and a musician all at once.

Basically, if people were ranked like K-pop idols, Mark would be in an A-list group with an unbreakable fanbase.

And now? He’s your project partner. Which is… fine. Great, even. Because Mark is cool, easy to work with, and always has some idea of what’s going on.

Somewhere across campus. Somehow Vernon found out maybe because he’s friends with Mark, but also because Vernon has a way of accidentally collecting information he never planned on having.

So, when he casually brings it up to Chan, he doesn’t expect a reaction.

“Yeah, I think they started their research today,” Vernon says, sipping his drink. “Mark was telling me they’re doing something on—”

“What?”

Vernon blinks. “Huh?”

Chan is frowning. “What do you mean they started their research?”

“I mean exactly that?” Vernon tilts his head. “Why?”

Chan crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowing. “She didn’t tell me about this.”

Vernon shrugs. “Maybe she forgot.”

Chan scoffs. “She doesn’t just forget things like this.”

Vernon watches him for a moment, then—because he is Vernon—he smirks. “Why? You jealous?”

Chan glares. “Shut up.”

But the way he immediately shoves a fry in his mouth—pointedly avoiding eye contact—tells Vernon everything he needs to know.

Meanwhile, you’re completely unaware of the conversation happening behind your back because, while Chan is sitting there having internal drama, you’re busy at the library, actually doing your work somewhere on campus with Mark.

Mark is surprisingly fun to work with. He’s got this easy-going energy that makes it impossible to be awkward around him. He listens, offers ideas, and never once makes you feel like you’re carrying the whole project alone.

At one point, while you’re deep in discussion, he suddenly grins.

“You know, I was kind of hoping I’d get partnered with you.”

You blink. “Wait, really? Why?”

Mark laughs. “Because you’re, like, insanely good at research. Plus, I figured it’d be fun.”

You tilt your head. “And how do you know I’m good at research?”

He shrugs. “Vernon”

Later Chan is walking around campus after his last class finished. Too lost in his own thoughts.

Chan is not the jealous type. Really, he isn’t.

But the second he hears Vernon say—so casually—that you and Mark have been spending time together, something in his brain just… short-circuits because why didn’t you tell him? You tell him everything. Even the stupid, mundane stuff like how your coffee order was wrong or how your neighbor’s cat was staring at you weirdly again.

So why didn’t this come up?

It’s not that he’s mad. He just… doesn’t like it and now, thanks to Vernon, he’s stuck thinking about it all day.

By the time you meet up with him after your classes, he’s already decided: He needs to casually bring it up.

(Casually.)

So, as you walk beside him, he tries to sound as neutral as possible.

“Sooo… how’s the research going?”

You glance at him, unaware of the ridiculous amount of effort he’s putting into sounding normal. “It’s fine. Why?”

Chan shrugs. “Just wondering.”

A beat.

Then, as if completely unaware of the landmine she’s stepping on, you say—

“Mark’s actually really nice. I get why Vernon’s friends with him.”

Oh, come on.

Chan swallows. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah. He’s easy to work with. He’s, like… I don’t know. Just a chill, friendly guy, y’know?”

Chan forces a smile. “Right. Chill. Friendly.”

You glance at him, frowning slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah! Totally!” (Lie.)

You squint. “You’re making that face.”

Chan panics. “What face?”

“That face you make when you don’t like something but don’t wanna say it.”

Chan scoffs. “What? No. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You just stare. Chan sweats. Then... because he’s actually losing this battle... he finally gives in and mutters,

“…Why didn’t you tell me you got partnered with Mark?”

You blink. “Huh?”

Chan shrugs, too casually. “I mean, usually you tell me about this stuff.”

You tilt your head, genuinely confused. “I dunno. I guess I didn’t think it was a big deal?”

Chan scoffs before he can stop himself. “Right. Totally not a big deal.”

You narrow your eyes. “Okay, what is your problem?”

Chan exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Really? Because you sound like you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t!”

A few seconds pass before you smile at him, “Oh my God. That’s what this is about?”

Chan scowls. “What do you mean ‘that’s what this is about?’”

You laugh. “You’re jealous.”

Chan chokes. “WHAT?!”

You grin. “Oh, this is amazing. You’re actually jealous.”

“I—no! I’m not!”

“You so are.”

“I’M NOT!”

You just keep grinning and Chan just keeps suffering. Because, yeah. Maybe he is a little jealous. Maybe he doesn’t like the idea of someone else getting your time and attention.

You nudge him playfully. "Chan, it's just schoolwork."

He scoffs, still not looking at you. "Still."

You grin. "Okay, okay, from now on, I solemnly swear to tell you about every single homework, every test, every research project I have."

Chan rolls his eyes. "You’re so dramatic."

You smirk. "Oh no, I'm serious. Next time I get assigned a two-page essay, you will be the first to know. If I have a pop quiz, you will hear about it immediately. If I even think about studying, I’ll text you."

Chan groans. "I regret saying anything."

You laugh. "Nope, too late. You signed up for this."

He shakes his head, finally glancing at you with the smallest smile. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” you say, looping your arm through his, “you’re still here.”

Chan sighs, letting you drag him along. "Unfortunately."

But the way his fingers lightly squeeze your arm?

Yeah. He doesn't mind one bit.

The next day, you meet up with Mark at the library as planned. He’s already there when you arrive, flipping through research papers with that easygoing, friendly energy he’s known for.

“Hey,” he greets with a grin. “Ready to be academically tortured?”

You laugh. “Oh, absolutely.”

The two of you get to work, sifting through sources, bouncing ideas off each other. You’re making solid progress when, about an hour in, your phone buzzes.

Chan: Having fun with your new research husband?

You snort so loudly Mark looks up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, typing back a response.

You: Wow, someone’s checking in? Cute. Chan: I’m not checking in. I’m just making sure you didn’t forget your REAL best friend exists.

You roll your eyes, but your smile lingers as you turn back to work.

By the time you finish and say goodbye to Mark, it’s dark outside. Your legs are stiff from sitting too long, and all you want is food and maybe a nap.

You check your phone—no new messages from Chan since earlier.

Weird. Usually, he at least texts about what he’s doing. Without thinking too much about it, you head toward your usual café. And sure enough there he is.

Chan is sitting by the window, a drink in front of him, scrolling through his phone. He looks normal. Unbothered. But when you walk in, his eyes immediately flick up to meet yours, like he was waiting.

You grin, sliding into the seat across from him. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Chan raises an eyebrow. “Wow. You survived the date.”

You laugh. “It wasn’t a date.”

“Sure.”

You roll your eyes. “It was schoolwork, oh jealous one.”

“I am not jealous.”

“Mmm.”

Chan glares. “Didn’t you say you were busy tonight?”

“I was,” you say, “but now I’m free. So lucky you, I can spend the rest of Valentine’s Day with my real best friend.”

Chan blinks. His grip on his cup tightens for a fraction of a second. Then, casually, he mutters, “So you do care.”

You snort. “Obviously. I can’t let you wallow alone on the most romantic day of the year.”

He sighs dramatically. “And here I thought I’d finally be free from your annoying presence.”

You grin. “Never.”

Chan just shakes his head, but he gestures toward the counter. “Go order. I already know you’re gonna steal my food.”

You laugh and head up to order, feeling lighter. What you don’t see is the small, almost relieved smile Chan has as he watches you go.

After ordering you slide back into the seat, but instead of sitting across from him you plop down right beside him. Close enough that your arm brushes against his.

Chan pauses mid-sip of his drink, side-eyeing you. “…What are you doing?”

You blink up at him innocently. “Giving you attention.”

His eyes narrow. “Why?”

You grin. “Because I know you’ve been sulking all day.”

Chan scoffs, setting his cup down with an unnecessary amount of force. “I have not been sulking.”

You hum. “Mmm. And denial is river in Egypt” You shake your head, resting your chin on his shoulder dramatically. “Well, since my not-jealous best friend has been neglected all day, I’m here now.”

Chan rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the way his body relaxes slightly. “…Took you long enough.”

You nudge him. “Aww, you missed me.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I really didn’t.”

You grin, lifting your head. “So, what are we doing for the rest of the night? I assume you have no plans with some mystery Valentine?”

Chan gives you a look. “If I had one, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

“Ouch.”

He snickers, nudging your knee with his. “You’re the one who ditched me today.”

You sigh dramatically. “And I have seen the error of my ways.” You gesture to yourself. “That’s why I’m here now, making up for it.”

Chan hums, pretending to think. “…Alright. I’ll allow it.”

You giggle. “How gracious of you.”

He smirks, leaning back against the seat. “You do owe me, though.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Chan tilts his head toward you, eyes glinting. “Yeah. For every hour you spent with Mark today, you owe me double in quality time.”

Your jaw drops. “Double?!”

“Yep.” He stretches his arms behind his head smugly. “You better clear your schedule.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Chan, you’ve been hogging my time for the past 26 years and no one’s complaining.”

“That’s different.”

“Oh? How?”

Chan shrugs. “I have dibs.”

“Dibs?! On my entire life?”

He nods, completely serious. “Obviously.”

You laugh, nudging his shoulder. “You are ridiculous.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You know, I could’ve had plans.”

You give him a look. “Chan. If you had plans, you wouldn’t be sitting in our usual café, waiting for me to show up.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. Then he sighs, slumping in defeat. “…Okay, fine. Maybe I was waiting for you.”

You smirk in victory. “Knew it.”

Chan rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, he leans back against the booth, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“You know,” he mutters, “26 years is a long time.”

You nod. “Yep. And you’ve had me all to yourself.”

He hums. “Guess that’s why it felt weird today.”

Your smirk falters slightly. “…Weird how?”

Chan shrugs, playing with the lid of his cup. “I dunno. Just—off. Like something was missing.”

You stare at him, heart doing something stupid. Again. Because it’s just Chan. Your best friend. The person who’s always been there, in sync with you like it’s second nature.

But right now, under the dim café lights, with his fingers absentmindedly fidgeting and his voice softer than usual…

It feels like something else.

Like something more.

You clear your throat, forcing a grin. “Well, lucky for you, I’m here now.”

Chan glances at you, then smiles. Small, but warm.

“Yeah,” he says. “You are.”

Chan is dying.

Okay, maybe that’s dramatic, but come on.

Coach ran them extra hard today, and his legs feel like lead. He barely had time to grab his stuff before running out of the locker room—because the moment he saw your text saying, “At the café near campus,” he was already out the door.

And now, standing outside the café, sweaty and exhausted, he immediately spots you through the window. You’re at a small table, sipping on an iced drink, scrolling through your phone.

And sitting across from you?

Mark.

Chan stops dead in his tracks.

Oh. It’s him again.

His grip tightens around the strap of his sports bag. He tells himself to be rational. You and Mark are literally just research partners. You even told him that but that doesn’t stop the annoyance bubbling up in his chest as he watches you laugh at something Mark says.

Taking a deep breath, Chan pushes the door open.

The little bell above the entrance chimes, and when you look up, your face immediately brightens.

“Chan!”

Mark turns to glance at him too, offering a polite nod.

Chan doesn’t even acknowledge him.

Instead, he plops himself into the empty seat next to you—not across, because that would leave Mark sitting across from both of you, and he refuses to make this feel like some group bonding activity.

You blink at him. “Wow. You look rough.”

Chan exhales heavily, dropping his bag to the floor. “Gee, thanks.”

You giggle, pushing your drink toward him. “Here, you can have some”

Chan takes a long sip, shooting a triumphant look at Mark over the rim of the straw. Mark, to his credit, looks completely unbothered.

Chan hates him.

“So,” you say, turning back to Mark, “you were saying?”

Mark nods. “Yeah, I was thinking we should finalize our thesis outline by this weekend.”

Chan immediately cuts in. “Oh, this weekend?” He tilts his head. “Didn’t you say you were busy this weekend?”

You frown. “Did I?”

“Yes.”

“No, I didn’t?”

“You definitely did.”

You stare at him for a second before realization dawns. “Ohhh. You mean your game?”

Chan shrugs. “Well, yeah. You always watch.”

That was not meant to sound like an accusation, but it kind of came out like one. Mark raises an eyebrow, but wisely chooses to sip his drink instead of commenting.

You sigh. “Chan, it’s just research. I can do both.”

Chan hums in response, taking another sip of your drink. He knows he’s being a little ridiculous. But the thing is Mark is too nice. Too polite. Too unbothered by Chan’s presence.

And for some reason, that pisses him off.

You, completely oblivious, nudge him. “Why are you acting weird again?”

Chan scoffs. “I’m not acting weird.”

Mark snorts.

Chan glares at him.

Mark glances between you and Chan, his expression unreadable. Then, casually, he tilts his head and asks, “Should I go?”

You blink. “Huh? Why?”

Chan, who was mid-sip of your drink, almost chokes. Yes, Mark. Please go.

Mark shrugs. “I mean…” He gestures vaguely at Chan. “Seems like I’m interrupting something.”

You frown. “What? No, you’re not—”

Chan, at the exact same time, goes, “Yeah, maybe.”

Silence.

You whip your head around to stare at Chan while Mark raises an eyebrow, amused.

Chan clears his throat, suddenly realizing he’s about to get murdered. “I mean, you know,” he backtracks quickly, “if you have to go, I wouldn’t stop you.”

Mark just grins, sipping his drink like he didn’t just blow up Chan’s entire existence.

Mark stands, grabbing his bag. “Well, I’ll head out then. See you in class.”

You nod, smiling. “Yeah, see you!”

Chan leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Yeah, bye.”

Mark pauses just before turning away, glancing back at the two of you with a very amused expression. “Oh, by the way—if I don’t reply later, it’s ‘cause I’m picking my girlfriend up.”

Silence.

Chan blinks.

You blink.

Mark just smiles and gives Chan a little pat on the shoulder. “Take care, man.”

Then he walks off, leaving devastation in his wake. You slowly turn to look at Chan, eyes wide. “Did he just—”

Chan stares blankly at the table. Processing.

“…You were sulking,” you say, voice shaking with laughter. “You were jealous—”

“I was not,” Chan says immediately.

You cackle. “You were so jealous—”

“I was not!”

“Oh my God,” you wheeze, grabbing his arm. “And for what?”

Chan groans, dropping his head onto the table. “I hate him.”

You pat his back, still dying of laughter. “At least now you know you were literally competing with nobody.”

Chan lifts his head just enough to squint at you. “Shut up.”

You grin. “Make me.”

Chan groans again, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You shake your head, beaming. “Not a chance.”

The walk home is quiet—well, mostly quiet, aside from your occasional giggles at Chan’s expense. He pretends not to hear them. It’s fine. He deserves this but as the two of you turn onto your street, you suddenly stop walking.

Chan takes a few more steps before realizing you’re not beside him anymore. He turns back and sees you standing there, arms wide open.

He squints. “What… are you doing?”

You tilt your head, like it’s obvious. “You looked like you needed a hug.”

Chan blinks. “What?”

You wiggle your fingers at him. “Come on.”

Chan stares at you.

It’s not like you’ve never hugged before—you guys grew up together. But something about you standing there, arms stretched out just for him, makes his chest feel… weird.

And maybe it’s because of how stupid he feels about the whole Mark thing. Or because you’ve been making fun of him all day.

Or maybe it’s just because you always know exactly what he needs.

Chan sighs. “This is dumb.”

You grin. “And yet, you’re already moving.”

He grumbles under his breath but steps forward anyway, letting you wrap your arms around him. Maybe he did need this.

Your warmth seeps through his hoodie, and without thinking, he buries his face into your shoulder, exhaling softly.

You squeeze him a little tighter. “See? Was that so hard?”

Chan rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go. “Shut up.”

You laugh, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Never.”

And just like that, the weight in his chest feels a little lighter.

Chan barely makes it through his front door before he’s pulling out his phone. He flops onto his bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment before dialing Vernon.

It rings twice before Vernon picks up. “What’s up?”

Chan sighs, rubbing his face. “I think something’s wrong with me.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, in the most casual, bored tone, Vernon goes, “So you finally realize it.”

Chan frowns, sitting up. “Wait, what?”

Vernon hums like he’s not just blowing up Chan’s entire world. “Took you long enough.”

Chan blinks. “Took me long enough for what?”

Vernon sighs, like this is painfully obvious. “To realize you like her, dude.”

Chan chokes. “I—what?!”

Vernon laughs. “Oh, come on. You sulked over Mark for days. You act like she’s your entire world. You’re literally on the phone with me right now calling me out of nowhere because don’t know what to do with yourself.”

Chan freezes.

Vernon keeps going, completely unbothered. “You like her, man. Have for a while, probably. Honestly, it’s funny you’re only figuring it out now.”

Chan stares at the ceiling. His brain is short-circuiting.

“Chan?”

Chan swallows. “...Holy shit.”

Vernon chuckles. “Yup.”

Chan groans, collapsing back onto his bed. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

Vernon hums, like he’s thinking. “I don’t know… maybe do something about it?”

Chan groans again. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Vernon laughs. “No, man. This is just the beginning.”

The stadium lights cast a bright glow over the field, illuminating the players as they jog back toward the sidelines for halftime. The crowd is buzzing with excitement, but Chan?

Chan is looking for you.

He spotted you the second you arrived—rushing into the stands, slightly out of breath, still in your meeting outfit, clearly freezing because of course you forgot your jacket.

Chan huffs, running straight past his teammates and into the locker room.

“Yo, where are you going?” one of them calls after him.

“Be right back!” he shouts over his shoulder, already digging through his locker.

He finds his jacket in a heap with his other stuff, grabs it, and runs back out before anyone can say anything. You’re sitting on the bleachers, rubbing your arms, trying to look like you’re not turning into a popsicle.

“Are you serious?” Chan says as he reaches you, already draping his jacket over your shoulders.

You blink up at him. “What?”

He sighs, crouching down in front of you so you’re at eye level. “It’s freezing.”

You grin sheepishly. “Yeah, but I made it.”

Chan scowls, zipping the jacket up for you. “You could’ve at least brought something.”

“I was in a rush!” you argue. “Didn’t wanna miss your game!”

Chan pauses.

He’s so busy being annoyed that you forgot your jacket, he almost forgets that you ran here straight from your meeting, just so you wouldn’t miss this.

His lips press together, and instead of scolding you again, he just pulls the hood up over your head, gently adjusting it so it covers your ears.

“…Just stay warm, okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, smiling. “Okay.”

He rolls his eyes but jogs back onto the field, suddenly way more determined than before.

Because now?

Now he’s really got something to win for.

You see it happen—one second, Chan’s dribbling up the field, focused, quick on his feet. The next, an opponent slams into him way too hard, sending him crashing to the ground.

Your heart stops.

“Hey!” you shout, already moving before you can think.

Chan's tough. He knows how to take a hit. But that was too much. your hands ball into fists as you march down the stands, ready to do God-knows-what to the other player, but before you can get very far, two hands clamp down on your shoulders.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Vernon says, physically holding you bac

You struggle against his grip. “Did you see that?!”

“Yes,” Vernon sighs. “And so did the ref, so sit down”

“Let me go, I just wanna talk,” you lie, glaring daggers at the guy who knocked Chan over

Wonwoo, sitting beside Seungkwan, lifts a brow. “Yeah, I don’t believe that.”

Seungkwan nods solemnly. “She’s about to ruin that man’s career.”

“Or his life,” Wonwoo adds

“I should!” you snap. “Did you see the way he slammed into Chan?! He didn’t even go for the ball!”

Vernon grunts as you try to lunge forward again. “Okay, nope, that’s enough violence for today.”

You huff, crossing your arms as you watch Chan sit on the bench, stretching his legs. He doesn’t look hurt. More annoyed than anything

“Relax,” Vernon mutters, finally loosening his grip on you. “Chan’s fine. He just needs a minute.”

You sigh, watching as Chan gets back up, shaking out his arms. He glances toward the stands, spots you, and gives you a little nod like he knows exactly what just happened.

You nod back.

He smiles.

Yeah. That guy is lucky Vernon was holding you back.

The game ends with a win, and as soon as the whistle blows, you’re already making your way down the stands. By the time you reach the field, Chan is grinning, sweaty, and very pleased with himself.

But before he can say anything, you grab his face, squishing his cheeks between your palms

“Are you okay?!” you demand, inspecting him like he’s a fragile antique.

Chan blinks at you, lips puffed from how you’re holding his face. “Mmmf—I’mm ffine—”

“Are you sure?” You narrow your eyes, turning his face side to side. “Nothing hurts? No bruises? No internal injuries?”

He pulls your hands off his face, laughing. “I promise, I’m fine.”

You scoff, unconvinced. “I almost fought someone for you, you know.”

“I know.” Chan grins. “I saw Vernon holding you back.”

Vernon, who’s just approaching with Seungkwan and Wonwoo, smirks. “Yeah, she was this close to committing a felony.”

Chan snorts. “I believe it.”

“I should have, honestly,” you mutter. “That guy slammed into you for no reason.”

“He’s just bitter we were winning,” Chan shrugs, tossing his arm over your shoulder. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“You matter,” you grumble, still clearly not over it.

Chan freezes for a fraction of a second.

Then, with the smuggest grin, he nudges you. “Aww, you care about me.”

You roll your eyes. “Unfortunately.”

Chan just keeps grinning, pulling you closer as the five of you walk off the field. “Let’s go eat. I think our future convict here needs to blow off some steam.”

You sigh. “If I ever do fight someone for you, you better appreciate it.”

Chan just laughs, squeezing your shoulder.

“Oh, I would.”

After the game and grabbing dinner with the others. You and Chan walk side by side, the night quiet except for the occasional passing car and the sound of your footsteps on the pavement. You can’t help but glance at him again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask for what has to be the tenth time.

Chan lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t believe me, huh?”

You shrug. “I just… I worry.”

His laughter dies down a little, replaced by something softer. Something fond.

“You’re cute when you do that,” he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Your face warms. “Shut up.”

“I mean it.” He grins. “But I promise—nothing hurts, I’m all good. Really.”

You study his face, searching for any sign of discomfort, any hidden pain he’s trying to play off. But there’s nothing. Just Chan, looking at you with that annoyingly charming smile.

“…Fine,” you mutter, finally giving in.

Chan tilts his head, watching you for a moment before he asks, “Do you need a hug?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“You’ve been worrying all night,” he says with a knowing smile. “Do you need a hug?”

You huff, crossing your arms. “I don’t—” nut before you can finish, Chan steps closer and wraps you up in his arms. Warm, solid, him.

Your face immediately finds his shoulder. “I didn’t say yes.”

He chuckles, his chest rumbling against yours. “Yeah, but you also didn’t say no.”

You stay like that for a second, the cold forgotten, the streetlights casting a soft glow around you. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

“…Okay, maybe I did need a hug,” you admit, voice muffled.

Chan laughs again, his chin resting lightly on your head. “Told you.”

Chan’s arms tighten around you just a little, like he knows you need this, even if you won’t say it out loud. The night air is cold, but he’s warm—steady in a way that makes your shoulders finally relax.

He leans down slightly, voice soft, just for you. “I’m okay,” he whispers.

You feel it more than you hear it—the quiet reassurance, the way he’s always quick to put you at ease. Your fingers tighten slightly on the back of his hoodie. “…You better be.”

He smiles against your hair. “You really like worrying about me, huh?”

You sigh dramatically. “I don’t like it. You make me.”

Chan chuckles, and you swear you feel his laugh more than you hear it. “Noted.”

He doesn’t pull away just yet. He lets you hold on, lets you breathe. And when you finally do pull back, he’s looking at you with that same too-soft gaze.

“Better now?” he asks.

You roll your eyes, but the small nod you give him doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Good,” he murmurs.

And just like that, with the weight of the night feeling a little lighter, you keep walking—Chan’s hand brushing against yours the whole way home.

“I’m fucked.”

Vernon, who had been peacefully scrolling through his phone, barely glanced up. “Uh… why?”

Chan opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

Then he groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Because. I like her.”

Now, that got Vernon’s attention. He locked his phone and turned fully to face him, eyebrows raised. “You just realized this?”

Chan threw his arms up. “I didn’t—I mean, I did, but not like—like this.”

Vernon stared. “Like what?”

Chan looked completely distressed, gripping his hair like the weight of the universe had just crashed onto his shoulders. “Like—I see her all the time and it’s normal. It’s us. But last night, when she hugged me—” He cut himself off, inhaling sharply.

Vernon’s lips twitched. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Shut up!” Chan groaned again. “It’s different now. I felt different. And I keep thinking about it and—” He turned to Vernon, his expression so genuinely confused. “Why the hell does my chest feel weird?”

Vernon gave him a look. “Chan.”

“What?”

Vernon sighed, shaking his head. “You’re so late to your own love story, bro.”

Chan frowned. “What—”

“Everyone knew,” Vernon continued. “Seungkwan, Wonwoo, me. Your moms, dude. Everybody saw this coming.”

Chan looked genuinely offended. “No one told me?!”

Vernon deadpanned. “Told you? You grew up with her. How did you not know?”

Chan was still reeling, sitting there like his entire life had just been rewritten in real time. His best friend. The girl who had been by his side for 26 years. The person he’d trusted more than anyone.

He liked you. No—he was in love with you.

And then, like the universe was out to personally ruin him, you appeared. Literally skipping across the courtyard, beaming like the happiest person alive, your eyes instantly finding his like they always did.

And just like that, the world slowed down.

Chan swore he stopped breathing.

The way the sun hit your face just right, the way your hair bounced with every skip, the way you waved like you hadn’t seen him in years when in reality, it had been less than 24 hours—

He was so done for.

"Chan!" you called, finally reaching them, breathless and so effortlessly beautiful it made his head spin.

And suddenly, all he could think about was—

How had he not noticed this before?

How had he been so blind?

You grinned, practically glowing. “Guess what?”

Chan blinked. Right. Words. He needed words.

Vernon, still beside him, smirked knowingly. That traitor.

“Uh—what?” Chan finally managed, his voice a little too tight.

You rocked on your heels, still smiling. “Mark and I finally finished our research paper! I am so free.”

Chan was barely processing the words. He was too busy looking at you, at the way your nose scrunched when you were excited, at how you were standing so close, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He swallowed hard. “T-That’s… great.”

You tilted your head, squinting at him. “You okay?”

Vernon snorted.

Chan stiffened. “I—I’m fine.”

Lies. He was not fine.

Because now, standing there, looking at you like this—like he was seeing you for the first time—one single, undeniable thought hit him like a truck:

He was completely in love with you.

And he was absolutely doomed.

He didn't say anything. He was still your Chan. Your bestfriend. But there are moments when he makes your heart skip a few beats, leaving you all flustered.

You’re standing between the tall shelves of the library, flipping through the pages of a book, when you feel it. Someone standing just a little too close behind you. Before you can turn around, a weight settles on your shoulder.

Chan.

His chin rests there like it belongs, his voice low and lazy in your ear. “Whatcha reading?”

You nearly drop the book.

“Jesus, Chan,” you hiss, pressing a hand to your chest. “Do you have to sneak up on people like that?”

He chuckles but doesn’t move away. If anything, he shifts just slightly, his warmth pressing against your back. “It’s not sneaking. You just weren’t paying attention.”

You glare at him over your shoulder. “I was focused.”

“Same thing.” He tilts his head, glancing at the book in your hands. “So? What’s got you so absorbed that you didn’t even notice your best friend coming to find you?”

You swallow, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he is.

“This,” you say, holding up the book between you.

He hums, reaching around you to take it, his fingers brushing against yours. Your breath catches.

“Boring,” he announces after a quick scan, grinning as he hands it back.

You scoff. “You didn’t even read it.”

“Didn’t have to. Your face says it all.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart is hammering. This is just Chan, you tell yourself. He’s always been touchy, always been playful.

But lately, it feels… different.

You clear your throat. “What are you doing here anyway?”

He shrugs. “Saw your text that you were studying, figured I’d come keep you company.”

You glance up at him, and for a second, something warm flickers in his gaze before he schools his expression back to his usual easygoing smile.

Chan doesn’t say much after that hr just follows you back to the table, plopping down beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You try to focus on your work, but it’s impossible when he’s right beside you, radiating warmth.

“What?” you finally ask, glancing at him.

He blinks, as if he hadn’t even realized you were looking. “What?”

“You’re just… sitting there.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. You said you were finishing up, so I’m waiting.”

You narrow your eyes. “And that’s all?”

He grins. “What else would I be doing?”

You don’t have an answer for that, so you roll your eyes and turn back to your notes. There goes your heart doing that thing again.

You keep it to yourself for a while. You don’t know how to bring it up, or if you even should. It’s just… a mess in your head—your best friend, your always-there person, and now this whole new feeling you don’t know how to deal with.

But Chan? He’s really not helping. He does things like when you’re crossing the street together, and he just grabs your hand. Or when you’re walking home late, and you don’t even get a chance to complain about the cold because he’s already draping his jacket over your shoulders. Then, without asking, he zips it up for you, tugging the collar up so it shields your neck.

“There,” he says, satisfied. “Better.”

You nod dumbly, gripping the sleeves.

You’re trying so hard to act normal, but he’s making it impossible. Because every time he does something like this, you feel it—the way your heart jumps, the way warmth pools in your stomach, the way you suddenly have to remind yourself to breathe.

And the worst part?

He does it so casually, like he has no idea what he’s doing to you.

That was one of the most intense matches you’d ever sat through.

Your fingers are still clenched into your jacket sleeves, your heart still hammering from the last few minutes of the game. It had been a close one—too close. The score had been tied until the very last moment, when Chan made the final play, twisting through defenders with the kind of sharp, practiced movement that had the entire crowd holding its breath.

And then—goal.

The stadium erupted. Cheers, chants, the entire team practically tackling each other in celebration. The air was electric, filled with so much adrenaline you could feel it buzzing under your skin.

But Chan?

He didn’t care about the noise, or the people, or anything else happening around him. Because the moment the whistle blew, the moment victory was secured he turned. His eyes searched the stands, frantic and determined, scanning every face, every row—until they found you.

And then he was running.

Your breath caught as he sprinted toward you, weaving past teammates and coaches like they weren’t even there. You froze for half a second—then melted.

His body was warm, even through his jersey damp with sweat, his heartbeat still racing under your cheek. He smelled like the field, like grass and effort and something distinctly him. His arms stayed firm around you, like he had no plans of letting go anytime soon.

“I knew you’d be here,” he murmured, his voice slightly breathless, and you felt his smile against your hair.

“Where else would I be?” you mumbled back, your hands gripping the fabric of his jersey.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, and the intensity in his gaze made your stomach flip. His eyes were shining, excitement and relief and something else swirling in them, something you couldn’t quite name.

You just stood there, still feeling the ghost of Chan’s hug around you, your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

You had no idea what just happened but you knew one thing for sure. It was getting harder and harder to pretend you didn’t feel the same.

Just as the team was pulling him into their celebration, just as you thought he’d be too distracted by the victory, Chan did something that completely knocked the air from your lungs.

He turned back.

His eyes found yours again, cutting through the chaos like nothing else mattered. He took a step closer, placed his hands on your shoulders then, softly, gently, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

The world stopped.

His lips lingered for a second longer than necessary, like he wasn’t in a rush to pull away. And when he finally did, he rested his forehead against yours for the briefest moment, eyes still closed, his breath warm against your skin.

Then, with a small smile, he whispered, “Thank you for always being here.”

And just like that, he was gone—yanked back into the mass of his teammates, laughter and cheers swallowing him whole.

But you?

You were frozen in place, gripping the front of your jacket like it could somehow hold you together, like it could somehow stop the way your heart was pounding against your ribs.

Chan had taken his time in the locker room, letting the adrenaline from the game settle. He changed into a fresh hoodie and sweatpants, ran a towel through his damp hair, and finally slung his bag over his shoulder.

He expected the field to be empty when he walked back out, expected the stands to be deserted and the night to be quiet—everyone had left by now but you were still there.

Standing alone in the middle of the field, arms wrapped around yourself against the chilly night air, looking up at the sky.

He took a deep breath and walked toward you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold standing out here,” he called out, his voice cutting through the quiet.

You turned at the sound of his voice, your expression unreadable. But when he got closer, he noticed the way your fingers were gripping your sleeves—the same way they did when you were nervous, or thinking too hard about something.

“You didn’t go with the others?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I… just wanted to stay here for a little while.”

Something was different.

The way you were looking at him—the way you weren’t looking away.

The way the silence between you wasn’t awkward, but heavy, like something was waiting to be said.

And then you took a small step closer.

“You really meant it, didn’t you?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Chan swallowed. “Meant what?”

You gave him a look—one that told him you weren’t going to let him play dumb.

“Everything,” you said. “The way you look at me. The way you act around me. The way you kissed me—” You stopped, visibly flustered, then corrected yourself. “—kissed my forehead.”

Chan felt his heart trip over itself.

“I—” He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. I meant it.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you. The girl he’d grown up with. The person who knew him better than anyone else. The one who had always been by his side, no matter what.

And suddenly, he felt like an idiot for ever thinking he could hide it. The world could’ve ended right then and there, and he wouldn’t have noticed.

Because you—you—were looking at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And he knew, without a doubt, that he had never, ever been happier.

You took a small breath, looked at him, and softly said,

“I need a hug.”

His stomach flipped, he didn’t even hesitate he closed the distance between you in a second, arms wrapping around you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head as he pulled you in.

Chan exhaled slowly, resting his chin against the top of your head. He felt you sigh against his chest, your arms tightening around his waist, like you weren’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

One second, he was looking at you, heart racing, the realization sinking in that this was real, that you were real, and the next—

He kissed you.

It was instinctive, like muscle memory, like something he was always meant to do. His lips barely brushed yours before he pulled back, eyes wide, breath shaky, as if he was waiting for you to push him away, to laugh it off, to pretend it never happened.

But you didn’t.

Instead, before he could say anything—before he could even process it—you grabbed the front of his hoodie and yanked him right back in.

Chan barely had time to gasp before your lips were on his again, firmer this time, more sure, like you had been waiting for this, too.

And God, if that wasn’t enough to completely wreck him.

His hands found your waist again, fingers gripping tightly as he kissed you back without hesitation, letting himself get lost in you, in the way you fit against him, in the way your lips moved with his like you’d done this a hundred times before.

Like you should have done this a hundred times before.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless, foreheads resting against each other, the only sound between you the quiet hum of the night and the pounding of your hearts.

Chan let out a shaky laugh. “So… are we still pretending we don’t know what this is?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes, but the small, breathless smile on your lips gave you away. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

Chan grinned. “Gladly.”

BONUS SCENE:

“Pay up,” Seungkwan whispered, holding out his hand expectantly.

Vernon groaned, fishing out a few bills from his wallet and slapping them into Seungkwan’s palm. “I really thought they’d take another year.”

Wonwoo, leaning casually against the bleachers with his arms crossed, smirked. “Nah. Chan’s been a goner since middle school. This was inevitable.”

Seungkwan grinned, smug. “Told you. The universe had this scripted ages ago.”

Down on the field, completely oblivious to their audience, you and Chan were still lost in each other, exchanging quiet words and stolen kisses under the stadium lights.

Vernon shook his head with a sigh. “Do we tell them we’ve been watching?”

Wonwoo gave him a flat look. “Do you want to die?”

Seungkwan snorted. “Exactly. Let’s just let them have their moment. We can make fun of them after.”

Vernon sighed again but nodded. “Fine. But just so we’re clear…” He glanced back down at you and Chan, who were still completely wrapped up in each other.

“…We are never letting them live this down.”

[drippingghoneyy]

I Plan To -Viktor x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Viktor share a secret history, known only to you and him. The reader grows weary of waiting, leading them to distance themselves, but who can resist?…

Genre/ Pairing: drabble, Implied smut (?), Viktor x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: MDNI!, tension, teasing, jealousy, possessiveness, dom!Viktor, GN!Reader, dom/sub dynamics, pet names… (lmk if I missed any!)

Word Count: 2.1k.

Notes: Reblog and like!! I read every comment, they make my whole day! If you find any spelling errors, no you didn't. Grammarly don’t fail me now 🙂 If you don't like nsfw content, please don't read it!

The first time it happened, it was a mere accident. Or so you liked to tell yourself. Late one evening in the lab, the soft hum of the machines and the flicker of candlelight had created an atmosphere thick with tension. Viktor had been explaining his latest research findings, his eyes alight with excitement, his voice a soothing rumble in the quiet space. 

Your gaze had kept slipping from his notes to the curve of his jaw, the way his fingers danced over the parchment. The air between you had grown charged, until a stray touch of your hand on his arm had sent a jolt through both of you. He'd looked up, and in that moment, the universe had narrowed to just the two of you.

Subtle glances grew into lingering stares, and stolen touches became something more. Viktor was dominant, not in the way that he ruled with an iron fist, but in the way he knew exactly what he wanted and how to coax it from the world around him. His confidence was like a magnetic field, and you, a sweet assistant, of course found yourself inexplicably drawn to the edge of his orbit.

He'd praise your intellect, your dedication to the work, and you'd blush, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with the nearby Bunsen burner. He'd lean in just a little closer, and you'd catch a whiff of the faint scent of his cologne—spicy and alluring. The line between professional and personal blurred until one night, after hours of a shared passion for science, you found yourselves crossing it.

That first time, he'd walked you to your room, the silence of the academy hanging around you like a velvet shroud. His hand had found yours, and your hearts had pounded in a delicious rhythm that matched your footsteps. You hadn't even realized what was happening until you were both standing in your doorway, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. A look passed between you, one that said everything without uttering a single word. You'd invited him in, and he hadn't needed to be asked twice.

The secret meetings grew more frequent, stolen moments in the shadowy corners of the lab or behind locked doors in his study. It was thrilling, but it was also exhausting. You were torn between your desire for him and the frustration that came with his refusal to acknowledge your feelings beyond the physical.

So, you started to pull away. It was subtle at first, a shift in your schedule here, a missed rendezvous there. You threw yourself into your studies and experiments with renewed vigor. The late nights in the library were no longer spent in heated whispers but in furrowed brows and pen ink smeared across pages.

Your mind was filled with theorems and hypotheses rather than his touch. You ignored the ache that grew with every passing day, the emptiness that settled in your chest when you walked past his empty lab.

Weeks turned into a silent dance of avoidance. You'd pass him in the halls with a nod and a forced smile, the kind that didn't reach your eyes. You had too much to do, too much to prove to yourself and the world. Assignments piled up, deadlines loomed, and projects demanded your attention.

Each step away from his lab was a silent declaration of independence, a rejection of the shackles of a secret affair that had begun to chafe. You found solace in the predictable patterns of your research, the comforting ritual of your experiments. The hiss of steam and the smell of chemicals had become your new lovers, demanding yet fulfilling in their own cold, unfeeling way.

On this particular day off, the sun had kissed your cheeks with a warmth that seemed to whisper of freedom as you went about your business in the bustling streets of Piltover. The cobblestones beneath your boots echoed with the promise of a day filled with your own pursuits, away from the prying eyes and whispers of the academy.

You'd visited the market, bartered for rare ingredients needed for your latest experiment, and even treated yourself to a cup of steaming coffee at your favorite café. The sweet scent of baking bread wafted through the air, mingling with the metallic tang of the city's ever-present industrial heartbeat.

As the afternoon shadows grew longer, you made your way to the lab, the weight of your pack filled with books and equipment a testament to your dedication. You pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped into the familiar coolness, the scent of dust and knowledge greeting you like an old friend. 

The lab was empty, save for the ever-present glow of the crystal tech that hummed quietly in the background. The place felt eerily silent without the usual banter between you and your colleagues. But today was different. Today, you had agreed to help Jayce, and that meant a brief re-entry into the space you had so carefully extricated yourself from.

You set your things aside and began to prep the equipment, your mind racing through the list of tasks you had set for yourself. The sound of your own breathing seemed amplified in the quiet, a stark contrast to the days when you and Viktor had filled the room with the music of your passionate whispers.

You tried to ignore the memories that clung to the corners like shadows, the ghosts of your former self that whispered of what you'd been giving up. Instead, you focused on the here and now, the thrill of discovery that awaited in your research.

The hours ticked by, the soft click of glassware and the scratch of quill on parchment the only noises to break the silence. You had just finished calibrating an instrument when the door swung open, the sound echoing through the room.

You looked up, expecting Jayce, but instead found Viktor standing there, his eyes cold and distant. He didn't say a word, just strode over to his workstation, his movements sharp and precise. A flicker of annoyance danced across his features, as if your very presence was an unwelcome interruption to his solitude.

Your heart skipped a beat, a traitorous reminder of the attraction that still simmered between you. You straightened your back, determined not to let him affect you. You had your own work to do, your own path to forge. 

The tension grew thick, a palpable force that seemed to pulse with every beat of your heart. You decided to ignore him, to act as if he were just another piece of the lab's furniture. But as the minutes stretched into an hour, his silence grew deafening, a stark contrast to the electric conversations you used to share.

Finally, unable to resist the urge, you called out to him, "Jayce said he'd be by so you guys could work on some things, and asked if I'd help. You guys are still doing that tonight?"

Viktor's head snapped up, his gaze piercing. "Jayce?" he repeated, the name leaving a bitter taste in the air. "What does he need from us?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to ignore the way his eyes raked over you. "Some kind of new project. He said it was urgent."

Viktor's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. "And he just assumed you'd come running?"

The accusation in his tone stung, and you couldn't help but laugh, the sound sharp and brittle. "Well, I'm here, aren't I?" you said, your voice a challenge. "It's not like I have anything better to do on my day off, right?"

He took a step closer, his expression darkening. "Why do you always have to be so...defiant?" The word hung in the air like a challenge, a silent dare to push him further.

"Is that what you think?" you replied with a smirk, the sarcasm thick in your voice. "That I come here to get bitched at?"

Viktor's eyes flashed with something that was not quite anger, but something far more primal. "You know exactly why you come here," he murmured, his voice low and intense. It was true; his authority and how he chose to use it had become an addiction, a secret thrill you craved even as you hated the feeling of being so utterly under his control.

You feeling emboldened by the challenge in his gaze, replied with a smirk, "Oh, I see. So it is all about power with you, is it?" You hadn't meant to goad him, but the words slipped out, a tiny rebellion against his coldness. You turned back to your work, pretending to ignore him, but every nerve ending was tingling with anticipation.

Suddenly, the sound of ripping fabric filled the room, making you jump.

"What the hell are you doing?" you asked without turning around, a smirk playing on your lips. You knew exactly what he was up to. It was a game you'd played before, one of dominance and submission that had become your twisted dance in the shadows of the academy.

When you did finally look up, you met his eyes, a thrill racing through you as you took in the long strip of cloth in his hand. The fire in his gaze was unmistakable, and you felt a shiver of excitement dance down your spine.

You knew this game all too well, the one where he'd prove his dominance and you'd pretend to resist, even though deep down, you craved the loss of control. It was a game you loved to play...

"You forget yourself," he said, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to resonate through the very air. "You forget who it is you're speaking to."

You rolled your eyes, the gesture filled with a blend of exasperation and arousal. "Do I really?" you replied, turning back to your work, pretending to ignore the electricity that crackled in the air between you.

The sound of his footsteps followed by the clicking of his crutch grew louder as he approached, each step echoing in the cavernous space of the lab. You could feel his presence behind you, a physical force that sent shivers down your spine.

You rolled your eyes and turned to face him, your heart racing. He towered over you, the fabric still clutched in his hand, his expression a storm of unspoken intent.

"I'm not afraid of you, Viktor," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. But as you met his gaze, you couldn't help but remember the way he'd looked at you when you were wrapped in his arms, the tenderness that had briefly softened his features before he'd pushed you away. It was like looking into the eyes of a wild animal, one that could either purr or pounce without warning.

He stepped closer, the fabric still clutched in his hand. "You should be," he said, his voice a low growl that seemed to resonate in your very core. His gaze was unyielding, a silent command that sent a thrill of fear and desire through your body.

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrists, spinning you around with surprising agility despite his injured leg. In one swift motion, he bound your hands behind your back, the cloth tight and unyielding.

You gasped, a mix of surprise and arousal escaping your lips. His grip on your hair was firm, the pain a sudden, sharp reminder of the dynamics that had always underpinned your secret encounters. But this time, there was something different in his eyes—a coldness, a detachment that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You want to play games?" he said, his breath hot against your ear. "Fine. But remember, I always win sweetness."

He yanked you closer, your back pressed against his chest, you could feel the heat of his desire through the layers of your clothing. You squirmed, trying to pull away, but his grip was like iron, his fingers digging into your skin just shy of pain. His other hand reached around, capturing your jaw and tilting your face up to meet his.

"You want this," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that seemed to resonate through your very bones. "You always want this."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you met his intense gaze, your cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and desire.

You bit back a smile, feeling the thrill of the chase, and whispered, "Fuck you," with a laugh that you hoped conveyed the right mix of brattiness and challenge.

Viktor's smile grew predatory as he watched you struggle against the bonds, your eyes flashing with both defiance and want. He leaned down, his breath a warm caress against your cheek, and whispered, "Don't worry, my dear, I plan to."

[loulou-land]

I’ll Always Choose You

Day 13 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Love Declarations | 808 words | Fluff and Humor | on ao3

“I really didn’t think I’d feel this way,” Buck admitted, voice wavering slightly. “But it just…kinda snuck up on me. It was like this buildup of all the little things, you know?” He waved his hand around as he tried to find the words to explain it. “Like…like waking up to your cold nose pressing against my cheek, or how cuddly you are, and…just how you’re there for me when I need comfort. You always know when I don't want to be alone, or when I'm exhausted, or I've had a bad day. And you make me feel better.”

Buck exhaled, shaking his head as if overwhelmed. “So now…now I can't imagine life without you.”

He paused, reaching his hand out as he held his breath. Waiting for a reaction.

Instead, there was a single, uninterested—

Meow.

Buck blinked, releasing his breath in a sharp gust and dropped his hand. Figures.

Their orange tabby, Captain, who perched lazily on the armrest continued licking its paw, completely unbothered by Buck’s undying devotion.

Buck stared. Pouted, even. “Seriously?”

He knew cats were fickle creatures, but come on! He really thought he’d become Captain’s favorite.They had spent so much time together while Tommy had been fighting wildfires up in the north for two weeks. So yeah, Buck had at least expected a slow blink to let him know he was appreciated. But nothing, nada, zilch.

A loud snort from the other end of the couch pulled his attention.

Apparently, Tommy had been watching the whole scene unfold. His book lay forgotten in his lap, his lips twitching like he was fighting back laughter.

Buck frowned at him, petulant. Tommy didn't have to worry about getting Captain’s affections, their cat already much preferred his lap over Buck’s. Which, fair, he could understand that—Tommy had wonderful thighs.

“You know,” Tommy said, raising an eyebrow. “I think that was more heartfelt than our love declaration.”

Buck scoffed, fully turning to him with a hand over his chest. “Oh, I’m sorry, was screaming at each other in the rain and dramatically falling into each other’s arms afterwards not romantic enough for you?”

He arched a teasing eyebrow at Tommy.

Tommy shrugged, eyes crinkling with laughter. “Ehh, it was alright.”

They locked eyes, neither one blinking, before promptly bursting into laughter.

Soon, their laughter softened and they lapsed into comfortable silence. Tommy opened up his book again while Buck turned on a documentary.

He flopped onto Tommy’s side of the couch, wiggling until he was pressed up against Tommy’s side.

Tommy just shifted slightly to wrap an arm around Buck’s shoulders, trailing his fingers absently through Buck’s hair.

Buck sighed, a little dramatically. “To be clear, Captain does love me. It just happens to be when it's just us…” he paused, realizing something. “Ah, sort of like an affair.”

Tommy hummed, passing the page on his book. “Noted.” He answered dryly.

Just as Buck was starting to get comfortable, Captain stretched lazily, jumped down from the armrest, and walked over Buck like he was nothing more than an inconvenient obstacle before curling up in Tommy’s lap.

It was deliberate. Malicious, even.

Buck’s mouth fell open at the audacity. “I pour my heart out to you, and you choose him? Captain?!”

The cat started purring, completely unconcerned with Buck’s complaints.

Tommy chuckled, rubbing the cat’s head with one hand while he pressed a consoling kiss to Buck’s hair.

Buck grumbled under his breath, but the warmth of the moment settled into him and he let himself enjoy it. The feeling of Tommy’s fingers—gentle, caring—as he carded through his hair. The staccato purrs of Captain as he enjoyed their closeness. And the scent of spring outside the window, soft sunlight streaming through.

Then, so low it almost got lost in the space between them, Tommy murmured, “I’ll always choose you.”

Buck stilled, his breath hitching.

Buck didn’t need the reassurance, not really. Not like before. He’d come a long way in feeling secure in who he was and their relationship. But that didn’t mean it didn’t get him every time. How generous Tommy was with always letting Buck know how wanted and loved he was.

His chest went warm, spreading through him like a spark in a forest. He felt too full, sometimes he didn’t know how his body could contain this much love for Tommy without exploding.

He tilted his head up, catching the same love reflected in Tommy’s gaze. He swallowed once, then burrowed his head against Tommy’s neck, pressing a soft kiss over his pulse. “I choose you too,” Buck murmured.

Neither of them moved for a while after that. Basking in the warmth and peace of the moment.

In this love that neither of them had to question, fully knowing how unconditional and encompassing it was.

[astars-things]

Positive Pt 2

*photos are from Pinterest I do not own them

please do not copy and or upload my work as your own

802 words

(Pairing- Jack Hughes x Sister!Reader, Quinn Hughes x Sister!Reader, Luke Hughes x Sister!Reader)

a month had gone by since those two pink lines changed my life.  A month of morning sickness, exhaustion, and trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was going to be a mom.

At seventeen. 

my mom and I decided it was best for me to finish the year doing online school, it was for the best, trying to keep everything on the down low because I knew if people found out I would be named the school slut or that I was attention seeking. So to keep me and my baby safe this was the best decision. 

telling my mom, dad and brothers that I was pregnant but telling my "boyfriend" I'm carrying his child is the most scariest one 

I stood in front of my mirror for hours rehearsing what to say, trying to find the right words to make him understand. But when I finally sat across from him, my hands shaking under the café table, all my carefully planned words vanished.

"I'm pregnant."

His reaction was immediate—his eyes widened, his jaw tightened, and then...nothing. Just a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.

"I can't do this, Y/N," he said, his voice flat. "I don't want to be a dad."

The air left my lungs. I stared at him, waiting for something—regret, second thoughts, anything—but all I saw was indifference. Like I was a problem he wanted to erase.

I left without another word, blinking back tears. 

back home

I sat down on my bedroom floor holding pictures of us, wondering where was the guy I fell in love with, why did he change. soon my phone vibrating next to me took me out of my overthinking, It was Quinn, he made it his mission to Facetime me at least once a day 

"hey did you watch the game last night, and did you see the goal I made for you and little Bean- hey hey why are you crying munchkin" Quinn cooed soon noticing my tears "he doesn't want to be a dad" I sobbed, Quinn's face dropped "that fucking dick. you don't need him munchkin. You have us. Me, Mom, Dad, Luke—hell, even Jack, whether he wants to admit it or not. We're here for you. And for the baby."

The baby.

Hearing him say it like that like this tiny life inside me mattered like I mattered, made my throat tighten.

"Thanks, Q," I whispered.

soon he hung up the phone as soon as he knew I was going to be okay, but my mind was still clouded with the looming thoughts of what if Jack doesn't want me as his sister anymore  and just so many of the what ifs 

No matter how hard I tried to push those thoughts away, my brain kept replaying his reaction over and over again he was furious, convinced I had ruined not just my life, but his, too. He had gotten so disappointed in me that he stopped talking to me. Ignored my texts. And then, the final blow—I noticed he had unfollowed me on Instagram and Twitter.

And so did everyone else. 

As soon as I opened up TikTok or Twitter I just saw all the notifications of fans and drama pages adding in their comments why did Jack Hughes unfollow his sister? What happened between Y/N and Jack? Family drama??

I stared at my screen, my heart sinking. It was one thing to know my brother was mad at me. It was another to see it so blatantly, so publicly. I turned my phone off soon making my way downstairs to get some chocolate, trying to keep my tears at bay, trying to not let my parents see how much this is affecting me. 

Once I entered the kitchen I saw my dad standing there, we didn't make any eye contact or even speak until I sat down at the kitchen bench "I saw what Jack did," he finally said.

I swallowed hard. "Guess that makes two of you disappointed in me."

Dad exhaled through his nose. "I am disappointed, Y/N. Not in you, but in the situation. You have no idea how hard this is for me to accept."

I bit my lip, trying to hold back my emotions.

"But that doesn't mean I'm not here," he continued. "Because I am. No matter how messy this gets."

I looked up at him, tears brimming in my eyes.

"You mean that?"

He nodded. "Of course I do." I hesitated for only a second before wrapping my arms around him. It was the first hug I had given him in a month.

And it felt nice.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was drowning.

Maybe Jack still hated me. Maybe my ex wanted nothing to do with this baby. Maybe my future was terrifying and uncertain.

But I wasn't alone.

And maybe, just maybe, I was going to be okay.

[lieslab]

Wish you were sober

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Hyunjin X gn reader

Summary: The ending of your romantic relationship isn't a wake up call from your substance abuse, but rather a fall from grace.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2K

Trigger warning: Substance abuse/addiction, brief mention of domestic abuse, childhood trauma, drug paraphernalia, and heroin overdose.

Addiction/domestic abuse resources

_ _ _

Tangerine stained the heel of Hyunjin’s palm. Plum purple smeared along the outside of his opposite arm. Another quiet night of solitude and soft music made his heart content. The strokes of his paintbrush gliding across the page, the gentle dabbing of blending colors together; he could get lost on nights like this. 

Weeks ago, he would have stared blankly at his canvas and shoved it off the wooden easel. Too much hurt in his heart made his brain erratic. He acted without thinking, but time healed the hurt. Not fully, but enough to survive the next day. 

The next day and then the next. Another handful of days spun into a week. A week webbed into a month. A month stretched into two. The tears stopped falling every night. The brutal bullet wound in his heart began to heal with scar tissue. 

He wished he could fix you, but that’s the thing about people. People have to recognize and fight their own problems. They can lean on others for emotional support, but you cannot face people’s problems head on for them. No matter how scary, life must be faced head on. It’s the only way that a person will truly grow. 

Loving someone isn’t always easy. Some flaws are bigger than others. Some are unforgivable and others, as harsh as it sounds, they’re unmanageable. You? A derailed train waiting to crash. Hyunjin? A global k-pop idol with an image to keep up. He didn’t want to be there when you flew head first into another train. 

He tried his best to help you. He coaxed you into conversation after conversation. He tried to get you the help you needed, but you didn’t budge. You refused to see you had a problem. It’s why he left. He couldn’t keep putting his heart on the line and waiting for it to end badly. 

He called it being proactive and you dubbed him heartless. He tried to explain it to you, but you refused to see it. Screaming and crying, under the influence of alcohol, you tossed a book at his head. He barely ducked in time. You didn’t stop. 

One book and then another. Another two and then the lamp. It crashed and shattered, scattered all over the floor, and you couldn’t see the reality. Warped by the wave of alcohol, you knew your boyfriend’s heart no longer picked you. You thought he was selfish. The two of you parted in a broken and unforgiving manner. 

Hyunjin squinted, pulled down more tangerine along the petals of the flower he painted. When he finished, he pulled back, tipped his head, and nodded. Everything in the painting finally came together. It began to look how he envisioned it in his head. 

The vibration of his phone broke his concentration. He wiped his hands on a plaid cloth and swiped the phone without looking. “Hello?” 

“Oh my god, you didn’t block my number.” 

“Who is this?” When he heard your name from your friend’s mouth, his heart sank. He forgot he saved your best friend’s number. Just in case you had an episode where the two of you needed to contact one another about your spiraling behavior. 

“I’m sorry to call you so late, but I can’t find them, Hyunjin. They’re shooting up again and I know it’s not your responsibility, but please. I’ve looked everywhere and I’m freaking the fuck out.” Anxiety brewed in the pit of their stomach. Desperation flooded their voice. “Just this once, please help me and I’ll never contact you again.”

He didn’t know why he agreed, but he did. He shoved himself away from the painting, washed his hands, put on a pair of shoes, and disappeared into the darkness of the night. The same worry he felt weeks ago, it all came back. 

You were reckless with your life. You blamed it on a bad childhood. The teenage years that gnashed your heart into bits of pulp and mush. The kids who didn’t care. The parents who hated you. The world turned its back on you, so you turned your back on it. 

Last Hyunjin knew, you were abusing alcohol. He couldn’t stop you from buying it. He couldn’t take your wallet and hide your money away. Deep down, he wanted to, but he knew it wasn’t right. You had to come to terms with things on your own. 

The last week that the two of you were together, he’d come home to find you passed out on the couch or in the bed. You smelled like a bar. Empty bottles scattered around your body. Whether it was beer or cheap vodka that burned all the way down, it didn’t matter to you. Anything that you could drink and get drunk, it worked. 

If you progressed to shooting up something, your mindset grew worse. All hope that Hyunjin had for your recovery was swept away with a single phone call. His footsteps echoed along the pavement. Dark eyes darted around the sidewalks. The white fluorescent lights hummed above his head. 

Late at night, most places were closed, but he had an idea of where you might be. You always had a favorite rundown park. You said it reminded you of childhood before you realized you were unlovable. If you closed your eyes on the swing, you pretended you were five again. 

Reality didn’t dagger against your chest. You didn’t understand that parents should have been capable of love. Childhood friends didn’t abandon you. Life filled with bright colors and the sharp scent of mowed grass. You blew bubbles, unaware of the horror of the future. 

He walked along the sidewalks, passed the darkened business fronts, and he walked until he found the dead-end street. You took him here for your version of a first date. The two of you climbed the neglected playset. 

You squeezed through the top of a small rock formation and sprawled out on a circular platform. A rusted, metal spinning wheel attached to the side of the platform. At your hip, the perfect height for kids to steer the ship shaped playset. 

Hyunjin’s eyes scanned the area, but he didn’t see you in the dark. He took out his phone, called your name, and turned on the flashlight. He glanced around the area, hoping none of the nearby houses would call the cops on him. He wasn’t a creep, he just wanted to find you. 

Further and further, he walked to the pointed playset until he found an unmoving silhouette above his head. He rushed towards the same rock formation the two of you climbed months ago. He called your name, squeezed in the hole, and pulled himself into the small platform. 

He wiggled forward and his hand bumped metal. He cursed, shined his flashlight, and froze. The underside of a burnt spoon stared back at him. He panicked and rushed towards your body. 

You laid with your eyes shut. Pale skin and blue lips. Your body didn’t move with normal breaths. He shook your shoulders and called your name. Each sound louder than the last, trying to get you to wake up, but you didn’t. 

You always said being under the influence felt better. Away from the harsh realities. High on dizziness and euphoria, it provided relief from the pain in your brain. Your thoughts swung like Newton’s cradle. Each one left your brain more damaged and more hindered than the last. 

There had always been a chance he would find you like this, but he didn’t expect it to be tonight. He didn’t think it’d happen like this. He walked away, hoping, praying, and wishing you’d get better. He thought it’d give you a final wake up call. He didn’t know it’d doom your death. 

He screamed your name and shook you again. Your head slightly rolled, but your eyes didn’t flutter open. Your chest didn’t press forward with a simple breath. His hand reached out and hit your cheek. “Come on! Come on!” 

You didn’t stir. He fumbled for the packets in the back of his jeans. He didn’t think he’d have to use narcan, but he was glad he brought them along. You always worried him with your recklessness. He grabbed the plastic pack, ripped it open, and gently wrapped his fingers around the plastic pieces. He pushed the tip into your nose and pressed the lever, shooting it into your nasal cavity. 

“Come on, wake up. Don’t leave me tonight. You can’t do this to me tonight.” He shifted you onto your side. The recovery position was supposed to aid in your recovery. His fingers shook as he dialed the correct number for an ambulance. 

His words came out numbly. He explained the situation and your location. When you didn’t take a breath after a while, he administered a second round of narcan. Just as blue and red lights turned the corner, the sirens grew louder, and you gasped. 

You didn’t understand what was happening. The spot you jammed the needle in your forearm ached. Remnants of euphoria clung to your head. Your eyes drooped and Hyunjin’s grasp around you felt warm. You weakly uttered his name, not sure if he was here or a figment of the drugged haze. 

“I’m here and I’m not leaving you. I’m not letting go. Stay awake and stay with me.” He waved his arm to the first paramedic he saw. “Over here!” 

Your world blurred. Faces smeared. Sounds echoed and morphed. Your heart raced in your chest, but none of that mattered. The hurt didn’t last. It fractured, contorted, and burst into tiny pieces that drifted away with the drugs. 

It always felt good. The highs kept you high. The lows dragged you down and slammed you back to earth hard. Each one made you feel worse and worse. For each low, you craved the high again.

A never-ending self destructive cycle that almost killed you tonight. 

_ _ _ 

When you were finally straightened out hours later, after the doctor worked magic on your overdose, a headache loomed overhead. Your mouth felt dry and your body ached. 

Hyunjin sat across from you with tears in his eyes. After accompanying you to the hospital, he called your best friend back and told them that he found you. They showed up, but once they saw the state you were left in, they left the room in sobs. Unable to accept that this person was who their best friend was once. 

“Hyunjin?” You whispered. Your hand stretched for his, but he didn’t grab it. He stared at it and more tears slipped down his cheeks. 

“You nearly died tonight.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me. I’m sorry I’m being rude, but you’re an idiot. Do you know how devastating it was to find you not breathing? You dumbass!” He snapped out of anger. “I thought I lost you!”

He ignored your hand, reached out, and tugged you into a hug. “You stupid, fucking idiot. Don’t make me lose you. Don’t make me have to live through that. I’ll never forgive you if this addiction kills you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

“Don’t say sorry. Do something about it! Fight it!” He pulled away and cupped your cheeks. “Fight it. Let me help you. Let your friends help you. You don’t have to do any of this alone. Nobody ever said you had to be alone for it. Don’t let it take you away from us. Stop letting it win.” 

Maybe it was the devastation smeared along your ex-boyfriend’s face or the desperation in his eyes. Perhaps, it was the later admitness from Hyunjin where he informed you that your best friend ran out of your hospital room unable to fathom the reality you found yourself in. Maybe it was the gentleness from nurses and the doctors, who didn’t treat you like a burden, but rather like a person with an injury. 

_ _ _

Later, curled up to a sleeping Hyunjin in your shared hospital bed, you silently vowed to fight and win. No matter how long it took and no matter how much withdrawals sucked, you’d win. You’d fight for your life. For your future. For your friends. For your ex. 

You’d fight to become a success story and not another doomed statistic in a textbook.

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[moniibu]

Hii, I like very much your work in Yandere Fem Bully/delicuent, Can we have a part four? I been thinking about a reader who is finally the partner of Fem bully and Fem Bully invites her to her house. Or maybe something clingy and fluff with reader trying to find a little peace and taking refuge in the school library, and simply Fem Bully going crazy looking under every stone for her beloved ❤️❤️❤️

Pleaseee come back to write WE MISS YOU

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY X FEM READER *:･ﾟ✧

this is a piece based on my previous works, which are on my page.

hi everyone! after a busy schedule and having my ass kicked by writers block, i am finally back! i appreciate all the love and support you all have given me for my work! it means a lot for me and after seeing this request made me realize why i loved writing so much in the first place.

this piece of work is more “fan-fiction-y” per se, meaning that i wrote a mini story rather than my normal work. there isn’t really a lot to watch for other than *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ being a desperate and needy yandere for reader.

word count: 6.8k, bordering on 6.9

it’s been a while since i’ve written anything, so i apologize for any mistakes or if my work is worse than what my other pieces are. this was pretty fun to write btw.

thank you anon for sending me a request! it means a lot to me that you love my work that much that much you want to see more!

reblogging/reposting is appreciated, but NOT expected. if you would like to see anything specific, requests ARE OPEN!

also, i plan on making a name for this character in the future since it was getting a little annoying spam copying *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ countless times.

remember, this is a LESBIAN post. MEN and MEN ALIGNED people DNI!

summary: you’ve been in a weird position with *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. you’ve been distant, and she can tell. after admitting the reason why, she invites you to her house, intent on changing and making you close to her again.

i hope you all enjoy this work of *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ !

it was lunchtime, the cafeteria being packed and buzzing with students eagerly awaiting a meal, just like you. after a long day of quizzes and note taking from your teachers, there was nothing more you wanted than stuffing your face with a sub from the sub area of the lunch room.

you walked towards the line, the line of students reaching where the napkins and the silverware were in the middle of the lunch room. you were agitated at the fact that lunch began seven minutes ago, and the line had already increased in size as time went on. you let out a sigh of sadness before hearing your name being called out. you whip your head, seeing *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧.

“[NAME]!” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ calls out, moving her arm in a motion for you to come over. you awkwardly walk over, cutting in line, not missing the mixture of stares and whispers from the other students as you walk up to one of the most hated people in school.

“hey baby. saved you a spot. i know you like the subs.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ flashes a smile, her eyes shimmering with want, almost as if she’s hoping you would praise her for her action.

“thanks” you mumble, looking towards the side, your feet scuffing the floor. sure, you might’ve made out with *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ three weeks ago, and weirdly enough became her girlfriend, but it didn’t stop the stomachache you got from being in her presence.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s smile falters, immediately catching on. she thought she fixed the problem? she threw away her pride! she practically got on her knees and begged for you to forgive her! maybe her gifting you roses and a necklace wasn’t the best present, but she made sure you understood that she wanted to fix this! why was her baby going back to before?

you give the lunch lady your sub order before putting your pin in and grabbing your chocolate milk. as you wait for the lunch lady to prepare your sub, you sneak a glance at *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧, who looks deep in thought, glaring at the bell peppers.

“*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧?” you call, tapping her arm. she looks at you in a daze. “you’ve been glaring at the food. hurry up so we can sit down” you tell her, grabbing your food and standing to the side.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ does as you say, guiding you two to a table in the back corner of the cafeteria. you only saw one backpack, confusing you. “where are your friends?” you question. you’ve never sat alone at lunch with *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ before, and the thought of it made you a bit squeamish to say the least.

“not here.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ barks out. “busy either catching up with work or doing random shit. i don’t give a fuck.” she scoffs.

“besides, told them to scram since i had something to talk to you about.”

“about what?” you raise your eyebrow in both confusion and curiosity.

“you! you’ve been distant lately. you avoid my gaze and every time i try touching you, you look like I’m going to give you the plague! you’re fucking scared with your tail between your legs!” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ roars. “like you’re gonna get killed just for being near me! it literally happened just now! and don’t you dare fucking lie to me either because we both know it’s true.”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ huffs before calming down. she tries to make her tone softer and gentle, hoping that it would coax out the information she wanted from you. “i don’t know what thoughts are being put into your head, or what your shitty friends are whispering into your ears, but when i told you i wanted to fix my mistake and the way I’ve treated you, and i meant it. please let me in so i can fix it.” she pleads, giving you a look of desperation.

you finish chewing a bite of your sub, looking down at your feet. “i don’t know, okay?” you stumble out. “i know you’re trying to change, and trust me, i want this to work just as much as you do, but i just—”

“just what? fucking spit it out!” she barks.

“i said I don’t know!“ you holler, and before you know it, all the thoughts that you wanted to keep in, the feelings that you kept chained away start coming out. “you claim you’re changing yet we haven’t done anything! you don’t take me out, you don’t call me or text me after school, and you still act “hard” around me! what do you want me to think?”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s face heats up with embarrassment. “well you’re my first, okay?! don’t know what i’m doing. i’m fucking trying.”

“i know you are.”

“i want you to talk to me. it’s like you hold it in but get mad that i don’t know exactly what you want.”

a smile dances on *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s face as she banters with you, the two of you going back and forth with “yes it is” and “no it isn’t”’s.

you open your mouth, ready to ask *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ something, but the sound of the bell screeches out, cutting your sentence off. you grab your backpack, unzipping it and grabbing a notebook. you rip out a sheet and grab a pen, scribbling your number.

you rip the piece from the paper and hand it to *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. “what’s this?” she asks.

“my number? so that we can fix the part of us interacting with each other when school ends. maybe you don’t text me cause you lost it.” you roll your eyes playfully.

“I have to get to class, bye *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧.” you smile, walking away, giving her a small wave before leaving her in the cafeteria by herself.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ smiles before pulling out her phone. she puts your number in her phone with urgency, like the paper would disappear if she didn’t do it right then and there.

as *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ walks to class, she looks down at her screen, wondering what to text you. she doesn’t want to sound desperate, but doesn’t want you to end up losing interest with her. that’s the last thing she wants!

to: baby

it’s me. save my number if you haven’t.

trying to do this whole “fixing the problem” thing you mentioned properly.

come to my house.

it could be a date or whatever.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ hits send after send, unable to stop herself from the word vomit she was currently spewing. she just hoped you would agree.

god was she stupid. she wanted to smack herself. how come she didn’t realize that her baby wanted more? she always said she wanted you demanding, but now that you did it, she was completely lost. she’s glad that something good came out of exploding on your earlier. now she knows exactly how to fix it so it’s like before; you being happy in her presence, feeling complete bliss.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ anxiously awaits your response. she sits down in her chair, checking her phone every second she could, hoping that she got a response back.

twenty minutes pass by, and *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ begins to grow restless. what the hell were you doing that you couldn’t reply to your girlfriend? english wasn’t that fucking time consuming!

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ phone buzzes. she knows it could only come from one person, and her knowing it was you only make her smile grow wider.

to: baby

it’s me. save my number if you haven’t.

trying to do this whole “fixing the problem”thing you mentioned earlier properly.

come to my house.

it could be a date or whatever.

from: baby

hi!

i’d love to come over

it better be the best date of my life

i’m not kidding either *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ grins, unable to contain the burst of excitement. she’s got a date with her baby! she’ll finally be fixing everything once and for all!

the thought of you coming to *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ changes from excitement to being riddled with nerves. what if the plans she makes bore you? make you want to leave? she can’t let that happen. she’ll make sure you don’t want to leave. after all; it’ll be your house in the future. she has to make sure her baby loves everything about it!

the last bell of the day rings, with *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ rushing out the door. she waits for the driver to arrive, itching her arm in irritation. can’t her driver go any faster? she has to make sure she gets things her baby loves so you’ll have the time of your life!

the driver arrives. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ gets in the car, throwing her bag next to her. “drive to the store, and quickly.” she barks out, looking over at the window.

“which one?” the driver asks as he turns out the driveway. “one where i can get multiple things. i’m going to have someone over today. it needs to be perfect” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ emphasizes.

“Yes ma’am” the driver replies, driving down the street, heading towards the store. “I’ll be gone for an hour max. stay here.” she commands. the driver gives her a quick yes in reply. she gets out of her car, picking up her pace as she practically runs into the store, thinking of what gifts would make her baby showcase the soft smile that she loves oh so much.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ almost wants to text you, asking what snacks you would like or what activities you want her to buy so you can enjoy yourself. she reminds herself that she wants you to feel just how she felt when she forced you grab her food; that feeling of appreciation and delight she got from the action of you giving her things that she loves without her asking you.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ walks down the aisles, dumping things in the cart she thinks that you might enjoy; from face masks and coloring books to a matching sweatsuit set and a box of brownies for you two to make. she made sure to head over to the beauty section, grabbing you a bottle of perfume she thought you would like, as well as some nail polish with colors she thought suited you as you always had your nails painted.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ walks over to the jewelry section, grabbing you a gold bracelet with a pair of matching hoops. she then grabs you a bouquet of light pink tulips and yellow roses along with other colors before putting it in her cart.

as *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ walks up to the self checkout, she can’t help but think about how much her baby is going to love the gifts she bought. you always love her gifts and she just knew you were going hop up and down adorably like you usually did. she knew you were going to gush over it.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ walks out the store. she opens up the car door, setting down the bags of her items. she grabs out her phone, going to your contact. she sends you a quick message, which gets her a quicker response in return.

to: baby

when do you want to start?

send me your address.

i’ll have the driver pick you up.

can’t wait for you to see what i

have planned for you.

from: baby

anytime is fine

can’t wait for you to rock my

world with your planned

activities

it’s XXXCC SPXX Drive

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ sets the bags in the back behind her seat. “go to XXXCC SPXX Drive.” she demands. The driver puts the address into the gps, pulling out of the store parking lot, heading to your house.

the car pulls up to your house. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. she sends you a quick text to let you know she’s outside. she decides to go on her phone to pass the six minute time it takes for to grab your bags and come to her car.

you curl up your hand, softly knocking on the window. it startles *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧, but she quickly barks out for the driver to unlock the door who opens it in a rush.

you get into the car, sitting in the seat across from her. “looking amazing baby.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ blurts out, unable to stop herself. she grabs your hand, giving a quick peck. “so gorgeous.” she smiles.

“thank you” you say, letting out a soft laugh, making *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s heart swoon. you buckle in your seatbelt and switch from watching out the window to going on your phone as the driver takes you two to her house. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ sneaks glances at you throughout the drive, being in complete awe at the beauty you possess.

the driver *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ pulls into the driveway. she grabs the bags next to her before getting out of the car. she puts all the bags in one hand, leaving the other out for you.

you give a small chuckle, taking her hand as she helps you out the car. as you two begin to walk to the front doors, you see bags that you didn’t see before.

“so..” you tease. “what’s in the bags?”

“shit for our date. gonna make it the best fucking date you ever had just like i promised.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ says, closing the door for you.

you walk in the door, taking in the entryway of *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s house. she wasn’t kidding when she said she was rich.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ guides you to her living room, the size shocking you completely. her living room was the same size of the entire first floor at your house. every detail of the room was carefully arranged, ensuring perfection down to the fiber of the decor.

she sets the bags down on the glass table in the center of the living room. “i asked those freaks what to do for a ‘at home’ date, so here you go.” she says, dumping the contents of the bag onto the table.

as your eyes glance from item to item, you find coloring books with markers, face masks, and a box of brownies.

“wow” you gush, giving *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ a quick kiss. “this is so thoughtful! thank you so much love!” you chirp, giving her a quick peck on the cheek; which turns into two, then three, then you kissing all over her face.

“oopsie” you giggle. “sorry about that love.” you say, wiping your lip gloss prints off with your hands. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ stops you, slapping off your hand. she didn’t want you to wipe it off. she wanted the stickiness of your lip gloss to imprint in her skin. for her to realize the moment she dreamed of happening was real, that this wasn’t a dream.

“what the hell?” you call out.

“it’s whatever. don’t mind my baby kissing me silly over me getting her a few gifts from the store.” she says, looking the other way, the tips of her ears showing a hue of pink.

you let out a chuff before giving her one more kiss on her lips, this time letting your lips linger. “it’s not whatever *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. you took the time to get me things i would like and that means a lot to me.” you smile at her, making *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ fall deeper in love with you more than she already has.

“got you something else.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ blurts out, grabbing the bag she hid.

“oh i didn’t see that one.” you sit up, giddy with excitement. you were curious, trying to anticipate on what she bought for you that she did originally. “what’s in this one?”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ pulls out the bouquet of flowers with a box. “open it.” she commands gently. she watches you closely, awaiting your reaction. you open the box to find a pair of gold earrings and matching bracelet. you dig in the bag once more, seeing nail polish and perfume.

you jump on *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ in a frenzy, making her hands quickly latch onto your waist to make sure you don’t fall over. “thank you love! thank you, thank you, thank you, thank YOU!” you scream happily.

you give her a kiss, pressing for more than a peck. it wasn’t as sensual as your kisses usually are, but you wanted her to feel the burst of love you had for her, that you were feeling for her.

“shit. if i knew this would happen every time i buy you a gift then i would’ve been spoiling you all day everyday.”

“well you can start tomorrow. i’ll be expecting a gift when we meet in the morning on the steps.” you say jokingly.

“bet. my baby gets whatever the fuck she wants.” she reminds, hugging you, clutching you close to her chest.

“i was just playing, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧.” you laugh dryly.

“i wasn’t. gonna get you so many fucking gifts you’ll become the brattiest girl in the world.” she says, lovingly feeling up and down your sides. “and when you do,” she adds. “i’ll give you my credit card and you’ll spend as much as you want. drain that shit, it won’t make a dent even if i bought you the whole god damn mall.”

you’re sit there in bewilderment, unable to utter out a sentence. “i can’t believe that you love me that much to do that.” you usher out, your heart feeling warm, touched at the gesture.

“better believe it baby, cause it’s gonna happen. don’t mind you acting stuck up and expecting everything going your way. wanna see you demanding shit from me like the princess you’re meant to be.”

you make a mental note in your head to go along with what seems like *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s expectations. “we’ll just save for the next date then.” you press a quick peck on her lips before getting up.

“now let’s started!” you exclaim. “grab the bags with the face masks and the brownies.” you grab *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s arm, leading her into the kitchen.

she places the bags on the kitchen counter. “grab some bowls please.” you ask, taking out the face masks and the box of brownies out the bag. you take out the face mask bottle, squirting some of the black paste onto your fingers. “c’mere,” you call out. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ walks over to you.

you rub the paste on her chin and her forehead. “this is fucking stupid.” she scoffs. you ignore her cries, rolling your eyes. you squirt more out from the bottle and put it on her cheeks and finish by placing some on her nose.

“no it’s not! besides you look cute.”

“no, i look like a god damn idiot.”

“well, suck it up. you look cute and i like doing this stuff. you shouldn’t have bought it then if you didn’t wanna wear it with me.” you point out.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ grumbles, muttering under her breath. “okay, your turn.” she picks up the bottle, squeezing out the paste.

“woah woah woah! that was too much! only a little at a time *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧!” you screech out.

“fucking sorry! acting like it was on purpose.” she avoids your gaze, her face bunching up, eyebrows furrowing. you grab her face, giving her a kiss. “it’s okay *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. just try as best as you can to use all of it from your hand and rinse the rest off.” you give her multiple kisses, hoping your attempting at soothing her will work.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ smears the paste on your face, rubbing it into your cheeks and rubbing the groove between your nose and your lips, indenting her fingerprints into your skin.

you look up at her, the features sculpted on her face making you feel a sudden urgency of want. feeling your gaze, she smirks. “don’t mind you kissing me baby.”

“god you’re so full of yourself.” you smile, holding her closer by intertwining your arms around her neck, giving her a kiss. the kiss wasn’t sexual, the kiss being full of love and affection.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ taps you, asking permission for more. you pull away, stopping what you know will lead into a passionate make out session, just like the last time. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ huffs in irritation at the removal. “relax love. you might get more later if you behave.”

“then i’ll make sure i’m the best for my baby so i can finally get her in a way i want.” you feel your face heat up as you move away from her.

“w-well! let’s get started on those brownies!” you move away, flustered. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ grins, watching you hop around in the kitchen.

you head towards the sink, washing your hands. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ copies you, washing her hands before following you.

you grab a bowl, placing the powder in. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ cracks the egg, putting in the water. you grab a rubber spatula, mixing the ingredients together. “can you please grab a tin so i can put this in there?”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ walks off, grabbing the bowl. she looks to the side. out of the corner of her eye, she catches you staring at her movements. she makes the decision to give you a show. she reaches for the tin in the bottom cabinet, flexing her muscles, the veins in her biceps bulging on display.

she’d make sure to put on a show for her baby. for you to realize how strong she is. for you to see how good she can take care of you just with strength alone.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ gets up, handing you the tin. you pour the mixture in, placing it in the oven. you set the timer, walking back over towards *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. “and now, we wait.”

“the fuck are we supposed to do?”

“watch tv and color, duhhh!” you drag out. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ rolls her eyes, walking back towards the living room.

“why don’t you put on something to watch?” you ask, grabbing the coloring books and box of markers and put it on your side of the table.

“what shitty show are we watching.” she asks. she turns on the tv, going towards hulu.

“it’s not shitty” you roll your eyes. “and this new cooking show that just came out. my friend was telling me all about it so i want to see if she’s lying or not.” you ramble.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ digs her nails into her thighs, clenching her jaw. she can’t help the jealousy brewing in her chest. why the hell were you taking a recommendation from that bitch of all people? she had plenty of shows you could watch. why didn’t you ask her? she would always provide for her baby! even if it was something as silly as a tv show or movie recommendation.

“we’ll watch the shitty show recommended by the princesses shitty friend.” she says through clenched teeth, unable to hide the pure wrath of anger she felt.

you slap *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s chest lightly. “my friend is not shitty! and stop being rude. we planned this to have fun, not worry about other people.” you remind. “let’s just watch a movie okay? you can pick it out.”

“gonna pick the best movie in the world just for my baby.” she grabs your side, tugging you close to her chest, or at least attempting to. “wait.., the coloring books” you whine out.

“another time. wanna watch a movie cuddling up with you.” as you struggle to grab the books anyways, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ grabs your waist, pulling you close to her chest successfully.

“um hello?!” you shout.

“cmon baby, let’s relax a bit, yeah? it’s been a long week for both of us and we definitely fucking need this.”

“whatever. i’m going to check on the brownies” you say, removing yourself from her hold. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ internally scoffs, loathing you evacuating her hold.

you walk back to her kitchen, hearing a mix of her acting like she doesn’t care to begging for you to come back. in perfect time, the oven goes off. you pull the brownies in the oven. “*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧! come in here!” you chirp. “the brownies are ready! we just need to wait for them to rest a bit.”

“then they’re not fucking ready stupid.”

“well they’re out of the oven aren’t they?” you retort back. “that means they’re ready then. the baking is complete to versus how it was twenty minutes ago.” you usher out.

you grab *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s hand. “now, lead me to the bathroom so we can wash these face masks off. i’m ready for this to be off my skin.”

“couldn’t have said it better my god damn self.” she huffs out, holding your hand tight, as if you’d leave her if she let go. she leads you two the bathroom.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ grabs you from your ass, holstering you up on the bathroom counter, making you screech in shock.

“the hell was that for?” she asks, her eyebrow arching in confusion.

“oh, well i don’t know,” you say sarcastically. “maybe the fact that out of nowhere my ass was grabbed?!”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ chuckles dryly. “oh, yeah. didn’t know my baby was still shy about shit like that.” she teases, grinning.

“i’m not shy” you retort. “just surprised.”

“yeah yeah. be right back. gonna get us towels and shit. hope this brilliant face mask shit of yours doesn’t ruin my towels.”

“whatever you say loser!” you yell, laughing as *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ gets farther and farther.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ comes back moments later, two black washcloths in her hands. “gonna wash yours off first.“ she explains. she grabs the bar of soap next to her, rinsing the towel under water before lathering soap onto the washcloth.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ smiles at you blissfully. she loves taking care of her baby. sure, she likes making sure you’re taken care of financially, but moments like these, the soft ones you let her do makes her feel that buzz of pridefulness that no amount of credit card swiping can do.

“are you almost done? or are you gonna keep smiling at me like a love-stricken idiot.”

“ain’t no shame in my fucking game. when you have a baby as mesmerizing as i do all you do is admire how stunning they are.”

“thank you *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧” you say bashfully, buffering from the praise. “you never fail to remind me you love me.”

“good. need to make sure you know it. how much i love and worship you. how much i’ll do for you. i’ll dote on you for the rest of my life.”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ continues to go on her usual rant of her devoting her life to you. “okay, my turn! get the washcloth wet for me. i can already tell we’re not switching spots” you say annoyingly.

“damn right we ain’t.” she says. she grabs the other washcloth, doing the same thing she did previously. she lets you feel her face, touching each part with pure love, admiration, and devotion. you caress her face with care as you rinse off the black paste from the face mask from her face.

the touch makes *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ feel euphoric. she loves the gestures that prove you feel the same way about her. as you finish, you hand the washcloths back to her. you hop off the counter, waiting for *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ to be done with discarding them.

“fucking finally. let’s go watch that movie i wanted to show you.”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ walks back into the living room, you scuffling closely behind her. she sits on the couch. she yanks your hand, plopping you down right beside her. you scoot your body closer to her, the two of you being just mere inches apart. “i can’t wait to see what you picked!” you chirp.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ presses play, turning on a romcom you like. you rest your head on her shoulder, engrossed in the film.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ steals glances from you throughout the movie, losing interest ages ago. the brightness from the tv shines on you, making you look ravishing and utterly breathtaking. it was torturous. it was like you were created by the goddesses themselves. she debates, fighting with herself on whether or not to caress you and touch each inch she so desperately craved, or to act like how she had been all evening; nice and caring and a girlfriend who wanted to fix the rough patch she was currently in.

was this on purpose? she wouldn’t care if it was. she was too far gone anyway. you could leave her completely broke; stealing all her money and her coming to a house with nothing but bare walls, it wouldn’t matter to her. as long as your eyes showcase the same love and admiration she feels for you then she’ll die a happy woman.

the credits start to roll. you get up, stretching, your body on display. your shirt lifts up, your navel showing. you were surely tormenting her! it was like you were purposely trying rile her up, to entice and provoke her with your provocativeness.

“did you forget the third bag?” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ asks you.

you stare mindlessly at her for a few moments before speaking up. “third bag?” your voice trails off in confusion.

“yeah you idiot. i got three bags in total and you only looked at two.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ shoves the bag in your face, commanding you with her eyes for you to cast your eyes on the bag.

you dig in the grocery bag, finding a red sweatsuit with white stripes on the side with a red matching sweatshirt. “aww!” you gush. your eyesight becomes blurry, your tears glistening as they cloud your vision. “i c-can’t believe you thought of getting us matching outfits.” you blubber out, the waterworks beginning.

“hey, don’t become a crybaby now. i hate criers.” she barks out, although her words have no bite. it doesn’t help the fact that she inches closer to you, engulfing you in her hold, holding you dearly.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ intertwines your hands with hers, your fingers tangled with hers. “go to the bathroom and put it on, understand?”

you nod, walking to the bathroom. the flutter you felt from the gesture sat on your chest. you smiled outside, clutching the bag close to you. it may have been a simple sweatsuit to others, but with a girlfriend like *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧, it was like receiving the best gift known to man. she gave you gifts often, but this one just felt different, the reasoning why being on the tip of your tongue.

“hey, stop standing there like a fucking idiot and head to the bathroom!” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ discloses. before you can respond back to her, she pushes you into the next door, shouting out. “be ready in five minutes!”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ shuts the door behind you. you’re a bit shocked to say the least. when you told her you wanted to hang out more, you didn’t think she would take it this far.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ rushes towards the next room she sees, ripping the clothes off her body and hurriedly changing into the sweatsuit she bought for you. she had to hurry to make sure she would be there when you open the door!

you open the bag, taking out the outfit and placing it on the counter. you take off your clothes before putting on the new outfit. the sweatsuit surprisingly fits you well, not too big or small. you step out of the bathroom only to see *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ standing right by the door.

“what the hell? you startled me!” you exclaim, placing your hand on your chest.

“sorry baby.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ apologies, pressing a peck on your temple. her hands rest down on your waist, looking down at you. “you look fucking incredible. who knew someone could make a shitty sweatsuit look so god damn perfect.”

“you look good too.” you say, placing your hands on her biceps. you give it a quick squeeze, darting out your tongue. the feeling of your fingertips on her skin makes her moan internally. “you look so strong in your outfit.”

“oh really?” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ smirks.

“really. it’s making me feel things if i’m being honest.” you say, your voice filled with want. you grab a fistful of her shirt, pulling her closer to you, kissing her.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ rips the door open, shoving you two back into the bathroom. she grabs your waist harsher with much more force, her thumbs circling your sides, pushing you back into the wall.

the kiss was intoxicating. it was like you couldn’t get enough, and neither could she. it was sloppy at times. the kiss was full of desperation and longing. it was like you could tell exactly what *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ was feeling, and it was finally coming out. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ licks the walls of your mouth, making your brain foggy.

as you two kiss one another, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ moves her hands down to your ass, making you gasp in shock. as you open your mouth, she shoves her tongue inside. the action makes you moan out in bliss. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ kisses you deeply, your tongues tangling with the others, making you both melt in bliss.

there was a short-lived battle for dominance, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ winning. you wrap your arms around her neck, making her move forward impossibly closer to you. you two make out for a bit more before coming up for air, a trail of saliva departing from the two of you.

you pant out, looking up at *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who looks out of it as well. her face is red, as well as the tips of her ears, her chest heaving up and down. you don’t know where the boldness came from, but after kissing her, you want more, and you felt like she felt the same way, she usually does after all. you push her down, making her reach your height, whispering into her ear. “instead of doing this in the bathroom, why don’t we take it elsewhere?” you smirk, your voice sultry.

you take *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s hand off your waist and lead it down to your pussy, making her feel the wetness in your pants. her face immediately turns red, switching from touching it and letting go, almost as if she was batting with herself. it seems like the right thoughts won. before you could even register, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ once again opens the door with quickness before dragging you up the stairs.

as soon as you two make it to her bedroom, she shuts the door close with so much force you thought the door would break off it’s hinges. she picks you up, throwing you on the bed. she hurriedly makes her way to her bed.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ kisses you, wasting no time shoving her tongue back in your mouth, making out with you again. her hands roam everywhere, trailing from your neck down your chest, cupping your breasts and scratching your nipples. the action makes you scream out in pleasure.

“ha~, j-just a moment.” you pant out.

“can’t. want to feel all of you. make my baby feel so fucking good that she doesn’t know what to do with herself. want to turn you into a complete mess. you don’t have to worry.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ huffs out, moving down, leaving pecks at your neck. “i’ll take care of you. just turn off your brain and let yourself feel the pleasure i’m about to give you.”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ looks back up at you, her eyes filled with desire. “let me spoil my baby. please?” she pleads. you can’t deny it either. you want this, and can’t wait any longer.

“okay, make me feel good.” you command, opening your legs wider to give *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ more access to give you the pleasure you so desperately crave. she sucks on your neck, making you moan wantonly.

“more.” you beg out, trying to push her harder into your neck.

“relax baby, i got you.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ says, giving you a peck. she kisses on your neck, moving to the side. she sucks on your neck, making you moan out louder than before. she smirks at the fact that she found one of your good spots.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ removes herself from your neck, looking at the hickie she’s just created. she gives you a peck on your neck, before kissing down your chest, she cups one of your breasts, putting your nipple in her mouth. she sucks, moving her tongue to lick the the top and the bottom of your nipple as well as your areola.

you clench the bedsheets next to you, arching your back from the touch. you begin to feel heat down there. you feel so much desire that it hurts. “*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧” you call out, making her take your breast out of her mouth with a pop. she blinks, eyelids half-lidded.

“move lower” you breathe out, grinding your pussy into her. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ chuckles, peppering kisses down your chest, trailing lower to your stomach and lingering near your navel. it was pathetic, but with the pleasure you were experiencing, you couldn’t care less.

she tears off your panties, her eyes filled with nothing but hunger. she darts out her tongue, licking your slit from bottom to top, using her fingers to spread your folds open.

“god you’re so mesmerizing.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ moans out. “i haven’t even done anything yet and it’s already so wet.”

embarrassed, the only thing you can do is let out a shaky moan in reply.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ squeezes your thighs, lapping up your wetness hungrily. a low groan vibrates from both of you, the act of being eaten out making the both of you feel pure euphoria.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ doesn’t stop, continuously giving you kitten licks and sucking your clit out of pure desperation. she sticks two fingers in without hesitation, making you shudder in pleasure. she pounds her fingers into you. the only thing you can do is cry out from the intense buzz that she was currently giving you.

gasps and moans are the only thing that surrounds the room. your brain was turning into mush. you lift yourself up slightly, gazing at *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧, who looks dazed herself; her eyes half-lidded as she humps the bed, rocking the bed back and forth.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ curls her fingers, making the waves of pleasure that just more intense. “so good. so so so good.” she hurls out. “you taste so good. want more. please, let me do more. wanna devour you whole.”

you grab a fistful of *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s hair, indicating that you’re close. she picks up the pace, shoving her fingers in and out faster, sucking harder, making you scream as you let go, letting the pleasure consume you and climaxing.

you collapse back on the bed, panting breathless as your chest rises and falls from the aftermath. your body is on fire, your body tingling. you lay there, drowning from the sensation of what your lover gave to you.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ gets up from the spot she was previously in. she takes off her shirt, smiling at you seductively. she takes off her pants until she’s completely nude, crawling slowly yet enticingly in the bed towards you in pure need. she gets closer to you, biting your earlobe, peppering kisses here and there as she whispers in your ear. “ready for more?”

as you lay in the bed dazed, you nod. “words baby.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ says, moving from your earlobe to giving you kisses on your jaw.

“yes. make me feel good. like you said.” you wrap your arms around her, locking your legs onto her lower back. you bring her into a kiss, your taste on her tongue. “i don’t wanna stop until i see stars.”

“your wish is my command princess.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ smiles, kissing you once more as you two begin a night of ecstasy.

*✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:

*✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:

this idea was made and created by @moniibu. all rights reserved to @moniibu, and you are NOT allowed to steal, copy, or translate this work.

February 2025

[minas-linkverse]

I'd love to see your though proseces for Finding the Founding! (I love that whole mini arc so much! Even if I feel really bad for wild...)

This is the earliest update anyone's asked about, so I'll be starting here. ALTHOUGH... I kind of dread to, because looking at old art is incredibly difficult. I'll do it-- I'll do it for you all and my love for yapping.

Director's commentary: Finding the Founding Full update <-

I was still far from good at comic making, but I was very ambitious, so although the visual story telling in this update isn't up to my standards now, there's some neat things past-Mina did.

The establishing shot is both telling and cryptic-- I'd say it leans too much towards the latter but she tried. The goal was to have enough hints to clue the viewer who knows skyward sword into the fact that this was the Goddess statue courtyard-- Which would ideally build tension. However past-Mina was too waaay too subtle. I took the liberty to edit how I'd do this panel today: having a part of the statue loom over the panel. This way even the viewers who don't remember the courtyard's birch trees can tell something big is waiting.

Altho I do like the detail that there's some wood planks in the background. Reminds the reader that this is post-game and they're doing building 💪

Groose :) The lore with the accessory that Link, Zelda and Groose wear is that he made them for the squad. The motive was actually polyamorous yearning but he's too insecure to admit it yet. You can see he wears his different and it has alternate feathers, it's like. A metaphor for self isolating or smth.👍I love Groozelink but they're not established in the time the comic takes place, so we get a longing flustered groose instead... Not that I've gotten to show that in the comic yet. Er.

At this point in the comic I hadn't settled on a consistant lineweight, and hadn't started using bold outer lines yet. So although the art isn't bad, it looks chaotic and unfinished. You can also see I was using WAY too thick of a brush for the panels and made the text too small. Gotta start somewhere, I guess!

Another ambitious panel, I was trying to have Groose's dialogue make it more poignant that the statue is BIG and STARING DOWN but the art REALLY didn't work with it. The statue looks tiiiny and besides the clouds curving into a halo it's all just a very boring image.

I super quickly threw a fish-eye-lense distortion on the panel to show something closer to what I'd wanted it to look, but didn't have the skills for at the time.

In the last segment of the update Wild has a panic attack type-o-deal which is again made less effective by the art, but past-Mina did try real hard and I respect that.

These two sets of panels were meant to be kind before-and-after transformations.

Wild going from seeing a family talk -> to the wall being torn and the tree destroyed with a guardian on the move. THEN Groose -> melting into a malice skeleton. I really don't think past me did a good job with that. I should've included more details that stayed between the two panels so they'd be more clearly connected. It's a cool idea tho, and in later updates I started to figure out how to execute cool ideas, so... Practise for the win.

Also nobody ever pointed it out at the time, but Wild's hair actually goes from the hairstyle he has in the comic to a hairstyle much closer to what he had back in the war. That and the colour fading from his eyes are deets I can still get behind whole-heartedly.

In the final page of the update there's a massive tonal shift where the art goes simple and the dialogue silly. It really depends on the tone you want for your comic, as this kind of a move can completely undo any tension you built, but in this case I think it's a very well done whiplash feel-good(ish) ending.

I think LV's updates started very amateurish, but I did seem to have a pretty good grasp on pacing and tone since the start. I'm very proud of that.

_

You can probably tell I don't much like this update anymore, haha. I appreciate what it meant for me back then and have nothing against people who still like it. To me its just a great example of all the things where I was falling flat when I first started.

Besides the panic attack wasn't an idea I even liked back then-- It felt like sudden unnecessary melodrama that could've easily been replaced with more nuanced emotions. However I'd seen people hype up all sorts of angsty art in the fandom at the time and felt like if I didn't put in something intense people wouldn't care about my comic. It's silly looking back-- You should be true to yourself when you make art, that way you'll like what you make and it doesn't age as poorly.

Never-the-less, the journey of making this webcomic so far has been really good for my comic skills and although I cringe at the past updates: they're still valuable stepping stones on that journey and I'm happy to look back and reflect! Thanks for requesting this update for analysis, and hope others can get something out of it too!

[tayswife]

This may be a weird question to ask but…could you write a fic about Elphaba self-harming and Glinda finding out about it?? The only reason I ask is because I’m a self-harm addict and I would find it a bit comforting to see something like this…if that is too much totally understandable, it’s a hard subject. But anyway I love your short fics! have a lovely day!!

— love me anyway

☆ glinda upland x elphaba thropp

☆ summary: glinda catches elphaba hurting herself and for once, elphaba finds comfort in somebody.

☆ warnings: self-harm, depression

☆ a/n: not a weird question at all don’t worry! here you are lovey, i hope this brings you comfort! i completely understand what you’re going through, please keep yourself safe and i’m always here to talk or to just bring some gelphie comfort :)

every evening, glinda and elphaba followed the same routine. glinda would get herself ready for bed by her vanity which would take about thirty minutes while elphaba would sit on her bed, already ready to get to sleep, with a book on her lap.

at least, glinda thought she was reading. that’s what it appeared to be. but unbeknownst to her, elphaba was enduring something much worse behind the book.

it was silent in the room. glinda always respected elphaba’s time to wind down. as much as she wanted to talk about everything at a mile a minute, she stayed quiet for her dear friend at this time.

to her surprise, elphaba was the one to break the silence.

not in the way she’d expect.

“shit,” elphaba cursed. she typically never cursed. she sounded in pain. it immediately worried glinda.

“elphie?” glinda asks, hesitantly walking closer to elphaba’s side of the room. elphaba was sat in her typical spot on her bed, however, her back was turned towards glinda. “are you okay?…what are you doing?”

when she hears glinda’s footsteps, she hastily shuts her book, letting the small blade hide between the pages. she bunches her sleeve in her fist and she looks at glinda like she had been a child caught sneaking candy late at night. but unfortunately for her, the situation is not as simple and innocent as that.

“i’m— nothing. i’m just reading.”

“no you’re not. your book isn’t even open.”

glinda makes it to elphaba’s side of the room. she plops herself next to the green witch on her bed. elphaba can feel her own sweat against the black cotton bunched in the palm of her hand.

“elphaba thropp, what are you doing? tell me! i want to know!” glinda says sternly but elphaba finds it hard to take her sweet voice seriously. elphaba doesn’t answer, she stares down at her lap. the lap that her covered bloody arm is resting on. “did you get hurt or something? let me see.”

before elphie can respond, glinda reaches towards elphaba’s left arm. glinda’s hand wraps around her wrist and elphie winces when she feels that pressure against her fresh wound.

glinda notices this, and so she doesn’t stop. and somehow, someway, elphaba doesn’t stop her either. her brain shuts down and all she can do is sit there in pain and let it happen. and it’s too late for her to do anything because now her arm that was once green but is now covered in bloody red, is out on display for the blonde girl to see.

“oh my goodness,” glinda says, as if her breath was stolen from her lungs.

she’s going to think your violent. evil. a monster. you’ll live up to your reputation. she will tell everybody.

“elphie, say something,” glinda now says, worry laced throughout her words. “elphie please,” she sounds like she’s crying now and so elphaba finally looks up, meets her eye to eye. and both girls have tears pooling in them.

“i’m sorry,” is all she says at first. and she doesn’t know why she says it, but it just comes out. “i’m sorry. you shouldn’t have seen that. you can request a new roommate or—”

“elphie stop! stop with that nonsense,” she cries, “i don’t want another roommate i want you. and i want you to be okay.”

“i am okay,” the green witch gulps. she can hear her own heartbeat in her ears, almost making her want to scream and run away. she wonders if glinda can hear it to.

“no, no you’re not. stop lying to me, elphie, please!” tears are rolling down her face now. glinda is typically emotional, but elphaba can’t seem to understand why she would be crying over this. “why do you do this? how long? and how did i not know?”

“before i met you. way before.”

glinda grabs her arm again and looks down at it, careful not to touch any of the fresh wounds. she couldn’t bare to have elphaba endure anymore pain than she already has. “oh elphie. i didn’t know everything was this hard for you.”

elphaba doesn’t say anything back. she’s looking everywhere except for the scene in-front of her. she doesn’t like talking about her feelings or how hard she feels everyone’s treatment towards her. she doesn’t like feeling weak.

“i’m getting the first aid kit. don’t move.”

glinda stands up and goes across the room. elphaba can hear shuffling and moving of things and then the dip of the bed when glinda sits back down beside her.

she grabs elphaba’s arm again, gently wipes away all the extra blood all over her skin. when she does this, she can fully see all the damage that she’s done to her perfect green skin. to glinda, the green is beautiful despite what classmates may say.

“you don’t have to do this,” elphaba says, breaking the uncomfortable silence. she doesn’t like feeling glinda’s eyes on all of her hurt. it feels vulnerable. she feels naked.

“i don’t,” she says, and she doesn’t look up at her friend; too focused on caring for her. “but i want to.”

glinda applies special ointment to her cuts. elphaba doesn’t know what it is. and she doesn’t really want to either. probably some high end shit, she thinks.

glinda tries her hardest to not hurt elphaba further. elphaba doesn’t know entirely why glinda’s doing this, but elphaba feels as though she doesn’t deserve it.

nonetheless, the featherlight pressure of glinda’s fingertip stings when the ointment touches her open wound.

she hisses and says, “ow,” under her breath. she doesn’t want to make glinda feel bad. she’s just trying to help. but everything is hurting so badly right now.

“sorry. i’m sorry,” glinda pulls her hand back, looks up at elphie that refuses to meet her in the eyes. maybe it’s me, glinda thinks, maybe this is all my fault and she’s too ashamed to look at me. “i should’ve warned you that it would hurt.”

“it’s not your fault. you’re just trying to help.”

they stay silent again. it’s not typically awkward between them now that they’re best friends, however, the silence now is extremely painful.

glinda pulls out a box of bandaids. elphaba can see on the box that they’re all light pink ones. she almost laughs at it. of course glinda would have pink bandaid’s.

glinda peels off the wrapping, and with elphaba’s arm still displayed for her, she places it right on her wounds. she adds two more to make sure everything is covered so she doesn’t get an infection. she knows elphaba wouldn’t tell her if it got infected either. that worries her.

elphaba doesn’t move, doesn’t pull her sleeve back down, she simply just stares down at her arm. at the pink bandaid that clashes with her emerald green skin. as a constant reminder of who cared for her. of the first person to ever care for her.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t have any other ones. i can go down to the nurse and ask, if you don’t like the pink.”

“no,” elphaba says, and glinda swears she heard elphie even laugh a little, “i like it. it goes good with green.”

despite her correcting glinda days prior, she says it the way glinda did in a way to give back her kindness she’s shown and to humor the serious situation.

“it so does,” glinda says, quiet enough to wonder if elphaba had even heard it if it weren’t for the gentle smile on her face. “elphie. can you look at me?”

it takes her a lot, it truly does. she feels as though there is a lock on her neck that is keeping her staring down at her arm. she misses looking at glinda’s face, and staring into her big brown eyes. but she can’t want that right now. it pains her. it shames her.

she does it anyway. because somehow she always ends up following glinda commands. glinda shows to have much little magic in her, but maybe her power is in making elphaba obey to all of her demands. could’ve fooled her, to say the least.

she expects to find fear written on her roommates face. but she only seems to find concern. not fearing that elphaba would end up hurting her too, but concern that elphaba wasn’t okay. she didn’t care about herself. she knew elphaba was harmless. maybe to glinda and others, but not to herself.

“why?” glinda asks. she doesn’t know what else to say. the words are there but she can’t think of them.

“why not,” elphaba says. she thinks it would truly be easier to explain why not. there’s not many why not’s, but it would take explaining her entire life and everything everyone has ever said and done to her to explain why.

glinda looks terribly upset at her response. “i wish you told me.”

“i’ve never told anyone.”

glinda stares at her momentarily. elphaba thinks, for a moment, that she’s about to say something heartbreaking. instead, glinda wraps elphie into an unexpected hug. so tight that she believes all of her shattered pieces are being glued back together. and glinda just hold’s her is all. so no more hurt. no more questions. no more fear. she just holds her which is just enough for now.

the gentle lavender scent of elphaba sparks tears in glinda’s eyes. it’s the little simple things about her that makes her wonder how people can be so cruel to her. and yes, she was too at first. but she doesn’t believe it was ever with malice, however, she still truly regrets it every day.

her sweet scent of lavender, how her green skin glows in the moonlight, how pretty she looks when she’s zoned out into another history book. glinda thinks of these things and it doesn’t add up to the elphaba she saw tonight. how can she be so hurt like this.

“promise me you won’t do this again. i don’t want you to hurt,” glinda says against her ear. squeezing her eyes shut as she still holds elphaba in her arms.

“it’s not that easy…” elphaba responds quietly, gulping down her words and the lump in her throat.

“then promise me you’ll always come to me first,” glinda pulls away, but doesn’t unravel her arms from around elphie’s neck. now they’re faces are so incredibly close. glinda can see all the hurt on her face. maybe it’s always been there, she thinks, as she can see clearly now.

elphaba couldn’t recall the feeling she felt inside of her body right now. the feeling of being cared for. the feeling of someone not wanting her to hurt. it was unfamiliar. scary. but not entirely horrible.

“i promise,” elphaba says. she was good as keeping her promises, glinda knew that much. elphaba just hoped she wouldn’t let glinda down and go against her this time.

glinda gently smiles at her promise. she grabs elphaba’s arm and brings it to her rosy pink lips. with elphaba intently watching the scene, she places a kiss onto the bandaids.

the feeling inside elphaba was too overwhelming. she didn’t know what it was. love, maybe? either way, it was so empowering the she completely bursts into tears right in-front of glinda.

it was only the second time this had happened. first; at the ozdust. and then now. but something about this time was so inimate. and the tears flowed so much stronger, like an ocean of pain.

“oh, elphie,” glinda pulled her roommate back into a hug. elphaba just let it happen, curled up into glinda’s body with her hands covering her soaked face. “it’s okay. i’m here now. it’ll all be okay.”

she let her friend cry in her arms for what felt like ages. she didn’t want it to end. she wanted to sit here with her elphie in her arms where she knew she was safe forever.

“do you want to talk about it,” glinda asked, “or do you just want to be right now?”

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“tomorrow? please, elphie?” glinda nearly begs and she sounds almost hurt, herself. she couldn’t go on knowing elphaba is hurting this badly without her knowing what’s going on. she needs to take everything that hurts her out of her little world.

“tomorrow,” elphaba confirms quietly. sniffles after too.

elphaba was the one to pull back when she composed herself. she was embarrassed. but at the same time, she felt completely safe here with glinda. glinda, somehow, always knew how to care for her. which was completely unexpected due to their first encounter.

“i’m sorry. thank you for all of this,” elphaba says shyly.

“elphaba thropp, don’t thank me. i only ever want to be here for you,” glinda says. she places her warm hand against elphaba’s cheek. elphie melts into it. she wants to become one with her. glinda wipes away the last of elphie’s tears with her thumb. “i’m going to sleep right here with you tonight.”

it wasn’t the first night they had slept in the same bed. glinda got scared of a storm another night and forced her roommate to sleep with her. it just felt out of the ordinary that it was due to her own problems now.

elphaba probably would’ve fought against it if it was any other night. but right now, all she wanted was glinda. and her gentle touch. “okay,” elphie murmured.

glinda was expecting to quarrel with her about it, but to her pleasure, elphaba complied very easily. glinda got up and put her first aid kit away while elphie got under the covers, leaving the duvet folded at the shins of her legs so glinda could slip in.

“can i hold you, elphie?” glinda asks as she lays beside elphaba in her bed. the pillows smell like her and elphaba is so warm. it brings her a sense of comfort that she’s hoping elphaba feels right now too.

glinda grabs the duvet and covers both their bodies with her. elphaba hums a yes. she doesn’t trust her voice right now and she doesn’t want to feel weak by verbally saying yes. if she doesn’t say it, then it’s completely glinda’s want. deep down, she wants nothing more than to lay in glinda’s arms for eternity.

glinda settles her arms around elphaba’s body. it’s unusual for them to lay like this together but it feels so natural, as if they haven’t gone a single night without laying together like this.

it’s silent for a couple of minutes. however, they both lay awake staring at the ceiling. elphaba assumes glinda’s asleep by now but, really, she’s thinking about everything and nothing to say to elphaba. she’s never dealt with something this heavy but she’d deal with it forever if it meant she was there for elphaba.

“elphie?” glinda says quietly yet it seems to bounce off the walls and echo. it makes elphaba cringe because the way she says it implies that she’s bringing that dreaded situation up again. “i know you’re hurting. I can't take the pain away, but i want to be the one to make it easier.”

“glinda—”

“if the pain is too much, let me carry it for you. i can’t ever lose you, elphie, i love you too much.” her confession made elphaba’s heart drop. she didn’t know how glinda exactly meant it. she couldn’t possibly feel the same way…

“i promise you won’t. i love you too, glinda,” elphaba murmurs the last part, but glinda hearing it reciprocated makes her heart flutter. like there’s a baby bird testing out it’s new wings in her chest. she has to take a deep breath to ease the feeling.

[kuronarnze]

a/n: hihi! Today i had the urge to write for itoshi rin HAHAHAH, welll enjoy! (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Itoshi Rin x Reader !

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Study Sessions & Stolen Glances

The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of pages and the faint scratching of pencils against paper. You sat across from Rin, your textbooks spread out, a look of utter despair on your face as you tried to make sense of the formulas in front of you.

"Rin," you whined, dropping your pen. "This is too hard."

Rin sighed, leaning back in his chair. "It’s not that hard. You’re just not paying attention."

"I am paying attention," you insisted. "It’s just... why are there so many steps in this problem? Who decided math needed to be this complicated?"

Rin rubbed his temples, clearly trying to hold back his irritation. "Do you want to pass or not?"

"...Yes," you muttered.

"Then focus." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Look, you have to isolate the variable first. Like this." He took your pen and neatly wrote out the equation, his handwriting crisp and precise.

You watched his hands move effortlessly, the way his fingers curled slightly as he wrote. It was unfair how someone could make something so frustrating look so easy.

"Are you even listening?" Rin's voice snapped you out of your trance.

"Of course!" you lied, quickly looking down at the paper.

Rin narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. "Then solve this next one."

You hesitated, staring at the numbers as if they would magically rearrange themselves into something understandable. Slowly, you began writing, only for Rin to let out a sigh the moment you made a mistake.

"You're overcomplicating it," he muttered, scooting his chair closer.

Before you knew it, he was right next to you, his shoulder nearly brushing against yours. He leaned in, his voice lower as he explained the mistake you made. You, however, could barely concentrate with how close he was.

His scent—fresh, like mint and something distinctly Rin—was distracting. The way his lashes framed his sharp teal eyes, how the sunlight hit his features just right...

"You're staring again."

Your face heated up. "I am not!"

"You are." He smirked slightly, the rare expression making your heart skip a beat. "If you actually paid attention to the lesson instead of me, you'd be done by now."

You groaned, dropping your head onto the table. "You're evil."

"And you're hopeless." He flicked your forehead lightly before sliding another practice problem toward you. "Now try again. I'll keep explaining until you get it right."

You sighed but couldn't help smiling a little. Maybe studying with Rin wasn’t so bad after all.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

I hope this story was goodd !! I hope you all enjoyed the story :)! Thank you sososo much for reading! Have a good day/night ! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

[mustlovelou]

For @gaytommykinard

(I hope you like it. Sorry for any mistakes or if it sucks!)

After their characters break up, Lou and Oliver said goodbye to each other. It's what they had agreed on after the first time they slept together.

Oliver still remembers how pent-up he had felt after they did take after take of the hospital scene. It had been particularly torturous because Lou is an extraordinarily good kisser and Oliver had found himself wanting more. During the last take, Lou had looked at him weirdly, a mix between confusion, surprise, and intrigue but hadn't said anything.

Five minutes after Oliver had entered his trailer, there had been a knock. Lou had stood outside, gesturing for him to let him in.

As soon as the door had closed behind him, Lou had said, "This might be a terrible mistake, so I apologize in advance but I really don't believe that I'm reading things wrong."

With that, Lou had slid one hand around Oliver's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. In no time at all, the kiss had turned passionate with their hands roaming each other bodies, and them grinding onto each other. They had sex right there in the trailer.

The agreement had come right after that, as they lay on the floor, sweaty and catching their breath. They were going to keep having sex as long as they kept having scenes together. The deal had been 'no strings attached' just sex.

Unknown to Lou, Oliver had caught feelings and saying goodbye had been as awful for him as it had been for Buck.

But a deal was a deal, therefore Oliver kept it to himself. He tried his best to avoid thinking about him and even hearing about him, not wanting to know anything, afraid he would hear about him dating someone.

Luckily for Oliver, he had never followed him on Instagram so he didn't have to torture himself with that, at least.

That's why when he's scrolling through his explore page he gasps and freezes when he sees a post of Lou wearing a cardigan completely open, showing his chest and stomach.

With trembling fingers, he clicks on the post and feels like dying. Lou's photoshoot for Felix Magazine has finally been posted and he looks amazing.

Knowing it's a bad idea but not caring, Oliver goes to the magazine's official Instagram and clicks on the link to read the article and look at all the pictures.

Oliver doesn't know how much time he spends just looking at the pictures, all he knows is that he ends up feeling dazed. He blames that fact as why he grabs his phone and texts Lou for the first time since they said goodbye months ago.

Oliver: What the hell dude?

Lou: ????

Oliver: the Felix Magazine article??? That photoshoot???

Lou: oh, right! Pretty cool, yeah? ☺️

Oliver: I hate you.

Lou: You didn't like it?

Oliver: …

Lou: ?

Oliver: you looked hot and you know it

Lou: 😏😎

Lou: thank you!

Oliver: I hate you.

Lou: no, you don't

Lou: also… I thought we weren't talking??

Oliver: we aren't

Lou: it looks like we are though

Lou: Oli?

Oliver stares at their conversation, feeling his breath hitch at the nickname. How many times did Lou said it in the throes of passion? How many times did Lou breathe out 'Oli' against Oliver's skin, causing goosebumps to appear in his entire body? How many times did he whisper it against Oliver's ear before kissing, biting, and sucking his neck?

Sighing, Oliver adjusts his sweatpants and boxers and contemplates what to do.

"Fuck it," he mutters.

Oliver: what are you doing now?

Lou: oh, you're back

Lou: nothing… just at my house with my dogs

Lou: [picture of him lying down with one of his dogs on his chest]

Lou: why?

Oliver: [picture of the lower half of his body, focusing on his big and hard bulge]

Oliver: wanna come over?

Lou: we are doing this now? I thought we weren't supposed to…

Oliver: up to you, I guess

Oliver waits with bated breath for Lou's response. He knew he broke the deal, he knew he took a chance but he sincerely hopes it pays off. After all, there were times when he would swear that the way Lou looked at him meant that he was feeling something for him too. He hopes it wasn't just wishful thinking.

Lou: on my way

Sighing in relief, Oliver smiles and promises to himself to confess his feelings to Lou tonight. He believes it is now or never.

[aphrvdisiac]

the grudge — e. williams.

synopsis — you realize the only way you’ll find true closer is by confronting the one person who ruined you.

warnings — adult language. angst based. brief mentions of infidelity, substance use.

author’s note — me writing n posting this when off to the races pt. 3 isn’t even out yet. don’t look at me plz this is me coping severely cus i like have to.

“we’ve been doing these sessions for almost five months now, and you haven’t made much progress,” your therapist, lyla, explained as she looked at her yellow-paged notepad. “you thought by forgiving her, you’d begin to heal; but you’re still stuck. you’re still stuck on what she did, how she treated you.

“i’m not stuck. i’m just… still waiting, i guess,” you said, holding the support stuffed animal you brought with you to these sessions. “i’m waiting for her to admit her faults and wrongdoings.”

“i’ve told you that you’re not in control on whether or not she owns up to any of that,” lyla stated, sighing heavily. “ellie does owe an explanation, but it doesn’t mean she’s obliged to give you one.”

“what if i get it beat out of her?” you joked, and lyla raised a brow as your faint smile entirely dropped. “it’s just not fair — i put up with so much shit, and it all ends with her cheating on me with some ex-girlfriend of hers from high school? like, are you kidding me?”

“we’ve established numerous of times that it wasn’t fair nor okay. you didn’t deserve that,” she reassured. “but you can’t change it. you can’t undo it. all you can do is move forward, which you still have trouble doing even in these sessions.”

you went quiet for a moment, staring out the office windows and admired the bustling streets and city.

“it feels like there are these weighted chains tied to my ankles that prevent me from moving forward,” you said, tears in your eyes. “i don’t know what’s holding me back — the cheating, the nights i stayed up with her, the fighting, the future we talked of… i don’t know, but the weighted chains won’t undo themselves no matter what i try to do to free myself.”

“you know she isn’t missing you,” lyla reminded, and you swallowed thickly but nodded because you knew she was right. “and you know she never will again. but it was never about you — what she did, how she acted, it was never about you. she found someone just as damaged as her, and it made her feel good that she could pour all of her troubles into someone like you. who would carry her burdens so she no longer had to.”

“i’m not stuck, lyla. i’m haunted,” you said. “i’m haunted by her, and the relationship.”

this was a terrible, horrible idea. you were perched outside ellie’s front door, fidgeting with your keys in your left hand.

your hands shook to knock on her front door, but you just knew this couldn’t end well, and you doubted you would get the answers you needed — the closure you so desperately sought for.

you moved enough energy to bring yourself to tap your fist against the wooden door, and it only took a few seconds until she swung the door, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“what do you need?” ellie asked, harsh and cold. “it’s raining, and you don’t even have a coat.”

does she still care?

“i need to talk… please,” you said, enough despair and pleas laced in your words and tone. “i just need to know.”

you’ve come to her front door like this before, with the same thing to say, but she’s turned you away each time. if lyla knew you did this more than once, you were sure she’d send you off or forbid you from being her patient.

what caught you off guard was that ellie widened the door more and stepped aside to let you into her apartment, and you hesitantly walked into the warm home that still smelt of oak and musk.

you sat on the living room couch as ellie closed the door and locked it, moving to join you on the couch. “what do you need to know?” she asked, like she would say anything to get you off her doorstep for the last time.

“i don’t get it, ellie,” you muttered, picking at your cuticles. “after fucking everything.”

“i told you that me cheating was nothing personal,” ellie sighed, beginning to get irritated already. “it was a mistake, i was caught up in the moment. i thought we were going to breakup, so that’s why i did it.”

“the words ‘we are broken up’ never came out of my mouth, nor did i even allude to such a thing,” you said, scoffing bitterly. “we’ve had many fights before, and thought we’d break up each time but we never did — but for some reason, you felt the need to jump to someone else.”

ellie slouched back, eyes fixated on you. “brooke was nothing; she still isn’t.”

“she proposed just a few weeks ago, and you said yes,” you replied, and ellie stilled with surprise and confusion that you knew about it. “i don’t stalk you, but dina told me. she thought i deserved to know.”

“you have to understand—“

“ellie, i loved you so fucking much,” you spat out, venom laced in the words of love. “i hate that i loved you that much, that i gave you every piece of me that i couldn’t even give to myself. i doubt you think about the damage you caused, that you think of the hurt you put me through.”

“i never asked you to love me,” ellie stated.

“you didn’t have to. you wanted me to because you knew nobody else would or could the way i did,” you said, inhaling sharply. “you knew that nobody would stick with you when you relapsed on drugs back to back, with the attempts, where i stayed with you until five in the morning to make sure you didn’t fucking die.

“the cruelest part is that you don’t care that it caused just the same damage to me. you don’t care that you tore me apart for your own humor and satisfaction. you don’t care that you cheated on me because at least in the end, you found a way to get me out of your life.”

“i never wanted you out of my life, tulip. you know you were always special to me, and you still are,” ellie confessed, and you sniffled, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “it was never about you.”

“your actions and you haunt me, ellie.”

“you haunt me. you haunt me everyday; your voice haunts me, how you loved me transparently and honestly haunts me and lingers around.”

“and i hope i continue to haunt you,” you admitted, chewing harshly on your lower lip. “i hope you never know a second of peace because of what you did. i hope you know everyday you hurt me, and whilst you are still very lovable, nobody will love you how i did. nobody will tolerate your shit like i did, even when i knew it was wrong and cruel.

“your trauma and mental instability doesn’t excuse the cruel sadist you are, ellie. it doesn’t excuse you’ve caused grand hurt, and you ruined my fucking life. and the worst part about this all is that i still can’t fucking hate you; you deserve to be hated by me, you deserve for me to curse you out but i can’t because despite the fact you made me lose myself, i still love you and want you to be happy.”

silence thrusted itself into the room, lingering around for moments as your sobs were quiet and ellie stared off into the distance, being lost in her own thoughts and guilt.

“all i wanted from you was passion, and what i gave you,” you murmured. “i did my best to keep you satisfied, to keep you here, to keep you loving me, and it wasn’t enough. and honestly ellie, nothing will ever be enough for you. and that isn’t my fault or even problem, and never will be again — that’s your fucking shit to tackle and deal with.”

“i know it is,” she whispered.

“then don’t put brooke through it. you can hurt me, but don’t hurt her,” you said, getting up and picked up your purse. “don’t make her fall victim to your ruin and troubles because you can’t accept help.”

“i did love you,” ellie said, peering up at you as her eyes were starting to get glossy. “i still love you, and you know that.”

“in your own sick way, you did and do love me,” you answered, nodding curtly to yourself. “but it was never enough or as much as mine for you to prevent you from cheating, to stop you from what you did or were doing, and everything else. love isn’t enough for you, els. nothing is good enough for you.”

you walked out of her apartment before the conversation could continue, and your sobs went on as you made your way to your car. you knew this was the closure you needed; you needed her to hear you, and you hoped she did.

and you hoped what you said would never leave her.

[sunsbaby]

𓂃 STRANDED FEATHERS

. . . when a strange angel shows up at the bunker

unexpectedly, leaving the boys to help her—or keep her.

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ` hurt/comfort | fem!reader | one little kiss |

It all started with the war in Heaven, and oh were you a big help—almost too big of a help. Your power destroyed the enemies, but also your home at the same time. It would be reckless and plain stupid to keep you around if they wanted Heaven to be in one piece after, so they sent you down to Earth. Not forever, but how that back fired.

You didn't know how to feel when your wings carried you onto a patch of grass, thoughts clouded your mind, jumbled into one mess inside your pretty head. The flowers surrounding you gave a feeling of slight comfort, not enough to get rid of the stares that burned into the back of your being as you descended down from up above. Your brothers and sisters, the ones you adored and would die for, voted to cast you away.

You never meant to cause problems, it was your duty to fight. You were programmed to be a soldier, to bend and bow to every word that spewed from any Angel of high authority's mouth. You did what you were created to do—now you were shamed for it?

Heaven needed power, just not the messy kind, not the kind you provided.

Somehow while in the mist of your thoughts, your feet—that were decorated with frilly socks—lead you to a bunker of sorts; your eyes widened as you stared—riddled with confusion. What was this place? It's been warded against you, yet you still found it.

Your hand lightly traces the doors, careful as to not dent to. Seeing as everything you touch breaks. A soft knock is heard from inside the bunker, Sam and Dean turn their heads to the door.

Boots hitting the floor and guns tucked behind their backs, Dean opens the door slightly. His eyes widen as he takes in your appearance—disheveled hair, dirtied white socks, and a dress; while it may have been ripped a bit. To him you looked beautiful, no, what was he thinking.

"Who are you, and what do you want lady?" His voice was gruff, yet you could hear the softness behind it all. Sam stood close, kept vigil.

"I'm an Angel of the lord, I was sent to Earth–" Before you could finish the door was shut in your face. Whispers came from behind it, presumably how you even found the bunker with no knowledge of them or probably anything on Earth.

The door opened once more, this time wider allowing you to step inside. Sam grimaced at the footprints left after every step you took. You took in the sights around you with awe, mouth agape like you'd never seen anything like it before. Dean stared at your twinkling eyes from afar, a fondness brewing deep inside him; though he wanted no part of it.

It took a bit of time for you to get used to how humans did things. You learned so much about the world and the two boys—somehow they learned nothing about you.

You sat on the floor, legs crossed and a pile of books beside you, this was how you spent your days recently—you didn't bother Sam and Dean like usual. Instead you were learning everything you possibly could, learning how to not make a mess—how to be a normal Angel, like God intended.

It didn't slip past Dean how you hid away from them most days, never embracing them back when they hugged you; normally for saving their asses, and the way you seemed to always resent your reflection—eyes averting away from every mirror.

You heard footsteps walking up to you and a voice you knew very well, "What'cha up to, little lady–hm? You seem to have a lot of fun being around a bunch of pages." He teased, looking down as he took a swig of beer, something you noticed he was always drinking.

"Just learning, Dean. Have you ever bothered to do that?" You say back, a grin finding its way onto your lips.

"Ouch, that hurt, little lady." Dean chuckled, his hand moving to pat your shoulder—his brows furrowed as he saw you move away.

"What's up, you've been distant–is there something we don't know?" He asked immediately after, his voice was slightly saddened as well as concerned. In a way it made you feel better, nobody had ever spoke to you in such a caring way.

Your heart sped up and meaningless words spewed from your lips, a distraction of some sorts. A way to direct the conversation elsewhere, but Dean didn't budge. His gaze wasn't harsh, yet it burned deep into you.

"Dean, I...I'm not a safe person. I break anything near me—it's a miracle the bunker hasn't been reduced to atoms!" Tears had prickled into your waterline, but you kept going, like Dean had placed a spell on you.

"Heaven cast me away due to my power, Dean. My touch isn't good, it's messy and dangerous. If I stay too close, you all may–" He cut you off with a kiss, it was pure something sweet and innocent. As he pulled away his hand found its way to your cheek.

"We're hunters, our whole life is messy–I mean hell Sam and I are considered 'dangerous' to about everyone and everything." His gaze was soft, with something you couldn't understand shining beneath. It warmed you inside, a smile crept onto your face as he continued.

"What I'm trying to say is, you're perfect for us: for me, little lady. You fit right in like a puzzle piece, the piece we didn't know was missing, but are glad we've finally got it."

Your arms wrapped tight around him as sobs wracked through your body. And he just held you, a hand rubbing your back as he let you do your thing.

You finally belonged somewhere, a place where you could be you.

sunny yaps! HIII EVERYONEE!! Today has been a good day so HERE YOU ALL GOOO! I did not go to school so IM VERY HAPPY, BUT I STILL HAVE WORK TO DO! Kill MEE!!!

special tags! @figthoughts @bluemerakis @dulcescorderitas @h8aaz + pls lmk if u want to get added or removed!!

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

For the Trein event:

Lucius. Riddle's Tsum. At least one sleeping student during class. What happens next?

Bonus: J-word is in the same class as Riddle, and that would sound like an absolutely hilarious terrible scenario.

A Storied Past.

Scarabia B-kun couldn’t stay awake.

Perhaps now—mid-Magic History lecture—was a bad time to regret the actions of last night. He barely remembered the details of the banquet, only that it had been so wild it blacked out large gaps of his memory. Music so loud it made his head throb, a feast so rich he had passed out at 5 am in a food coma.

His alarm blared 2 hours later at 7, demanding that he prepare for class.

Trein’s lecture was very much not conducive to staying alert. The classroom’s quiet, pierced only by the sounds of graphite softly scratching paper and the professor’s droning voice, was comfortable. Too comfortable. A hypnotic lull, slowly dragging the mob student into sleep.

Scarabia B’s heavy lids lowered. For half a second, the world went black.

He grunted and forced his eyes back open. No use. His lids started to fall again, this time staying shut for a full second.

This is fine. I’ll keep my eyes closed for a little bit. I won’t actually sleep. Yeah, that’s it! It’ll be okay if I just…

Suddenly, Scarabia B fell forward in his seat, his face and torso pressed flush against his desk. There was a plush weight upon his back, keeping him down as he struggled against it. A hiss and a shout met his ears on either side, setting off a migraine.

“MI-AOOOOOOO!!”

“Professor!!” came Riddle’s stern voice. Scarabia B imagined he had an arm raised in the air, flagging down Trein. “There is a student sleeping in class!”

The weight on the mob’s retreated. No—more accurately, it shrunk, lessening and lessening until it had almost vanished entirely. Whatever was there before bounced away, landing on his desk.

A small bean-shaped Riddle. And it was red-faced and positively fuming.

Scarabia B gaped at it, jaw completely unhinged.

“Mrrrow!!”

Lucius appeared in a flash, his paws stamping on the mob’s notebook. Fury flashed on his furry face. Scarabia B bolted back, narrowly dodging a swipe from Lucius’s pointed claws.

“Oya, oya, Riddle-san… How impolite of you to interrupt class to tattle,” Jade tutted disapprovingly (though he was grinning). “Surely you could have elected to use your indoor voice? The poor thing looks so rattled thanks to your volume.”

“When one breaks the rules, their transgressions must be made an example of,” Riddle huffed.

“Fufufu… You and your Tsum are very much alike. Why, this reminds me from the Queendom. A lost girl came upon a strange mushroom and thought to sample its cap. Alas, it was a magical mushroom, and she became the size of an ant after consuming it.”

Trein passed a glance in the group’s direction from behind his podium. His eyes expression folded into a tight-lipped frown. “Leech, focus on the lecture! Our current topic is the Beautiful Queen. Rosehearts, control your Tsum! And as for you, no sleeping in my class!”

“Certainly, professor.” Jade, unfettered, grinned. “I apologize for my lack of manners.”

“Nngh…!” Riddle’s face flushed with shame as he scooped up the tiny criminal. His Tsum self stuck its nose in the air, refusing to confess to its wrongs. “Why must I be punished for another’s behavior…”

“Yes, sir… Sorry, sir…” Scarabia B mumbled. He pulled his notebook out from under Lucius’s lumpy form. To his dismay, the cat had shed all over the pages, smudging a few of his notes.

Aw, geez…

Lucius seemed to stare at him smugly, as if to say, “Serves you right.”

Scarabia B sighed, shaking the fallen fur off. He turned to a new page and put his pen to it.

I really gotta lay off on the fruit punch next time.

[anon-karasu]

Taken Under His Wing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary:

“Is that Mammon again?” Simeon asked with a frown as he eyed the angel who was standing in front of Michael.

“It would appear so.” Lucifer nodded with a small smirk.

“Why is he always getting into trouble?” Raphael shook his head with a sigh. “I wonder what he did this time.”

“Something about selling pigeon feathers, if my sources are correct.” Lucifer said in an amused voice. “Michael really has his work cut out for him with that one, doesn’t he?”

———————————————————————

After hearing Michael reprimanding Mammon, Lucifer steps in.

Category: Gen

Rating: General Audiences

Language: English

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Simeon, Raphael, Michael

Additional Tags: Pre-Celestial War, Pre-Fall, angels, slight deviation from events in the main story of OG Obey Me, non-compliant with events in the main story of Nightbringer, non canon compliant, no MC, no Beta, spoilers for OG game in author’s note

AO3

FFN

Taken Under His Wing

Lucifer shifted through pages of paperwork in his hands as he walked across the brightly lit hall of the Celestial Realm palace.

As he adjusted his grip, he saw something black slip out from between the pages before it landed on the floor between his feet, making Lucifer look down towards it with a curious expression.

A frown crossed his face as he stooped down to pick up a black parchment envelope before he then turned it over to inspect the golden wax sigil that sealed the envelope shut.

“That’s the royal crest of the Devildom,” Lucifer murmured to himself as his brow furrowed in confusion, “how did this end up mixed in with my work?” He shook his head with a weary sigh.

Just as Lucifer turned the envelope over again, he could hear the unmistakable sound of Michael’s voice, raised in frustration and anger as his voice reverberated throughout the palace hall.

Lucifer’s ears picked up the sound of footsteps stopping beside him as he continued to watch on, only letting his attention waver from Michael to glance at Simeon and Raphael who had joined his side.

“Is that Mammon again?” Simeon asked with a frown as he eyed the angel who was standing in front of Michael.

“It would appear so.” Lucifer nodded with a small smirk.

“Why is he always getting into trouble?” Raphael shook his head with a sigh. “I wonder what he did this time.”

“Something about selling pigeon feathers, if my sources are correct.” Lucifer said in an amused voice. “Michael really has his work cut out for him with that one, doesn’t he?”

“He won’t for much longer,” Simeon murmured more to himself in a troubled voice.

Lucifer’s smirk slowly faltered as he shifted his gaze from Michael and Mammon to look at Simeon instead.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t heard?” Simeon shared a glance with Lucifer. “Mammon is already on his final warning. I’ve heard that there have been talks of him losing his wings.”

“Losing his—?” Lucifer stared at Simeon in disbelief. “You mean… like a demotion, right?”

“That’s one way of wording it.” Raphael shrugged.

“One way of wording it?” Lucifer looked toward Raphael with a frown.

“It’s less of a demotion and more of a… fall.” Simeon grimaced at the thought.

Lucifer quickly turned his gaze towards Simeon as his eyes narrowed.

“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Lucifer spoke in a voice that was dangerously low.

Lucifer let out a scoff as his question was simply met with apprehensive glances from Simeon and Raphael.

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Lucifer muttered under his breath as shook his head.

“What actually happens to a fallen angel?” Raphael asked as he watched Michael and Mammon with a curious expression. “Would they become a human or would they become a demon?”

“I’m not sure,” Simeon heaved a sigh, “as far as I’m aware, an angel being expelled from the Celestial Realm has never happened before.”

Lucifer’s frown deepened as he listened to Simeon and Raphael, his gaze never leaving the back of Mammon’s head as Michael continued to berate him.

A scowl crossed Lucifer’s face as he shook his head again before he stepped forward and made his way towards Michael and Mammon.

“Lucifer, wait! What are you doing?” Simeon’s eyes widened as he called after Lucifer.

Lucifer let out a quiet chuckle as he glanced over his shoulder at Simeon, “what does it look like? I’m going to stand up for the underdog.”

Lucifer turned his attention back towards Michael and Mammon, and cleared his throat as he approached them.

“It’s not like you to get so riled up like this, Michael.” Lucifer let out a chuckle as he surveyed Michael’s livid expression. “I thought you preferred the stern but calm approach.”

“Lucifer, I am at my wit’s end with this angel!” Michael crossed his arms as he turned towards Lucifer.

Lucifer glances at Mammon and raised an eyebrow as he took in Mammon’s sheepish expression and averted gaze.

“Who? Mammon?” Lucifer feigned surprise. “Surely he can’t be that bad.”

Michael let out a scoff, “I’ve tried to teach him, but he simply doesn’t engage. I’ve tried to be fair with him, but he continues to push his luck. I’ve even tried to punish him, but he still insists on causing trouble and misbehaving.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I fear that nothing will get through to him, we have no other choice than to strip him of his w—”

“That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?” Lucifer cut Michael off and raised an eyebrow at the archangel.

“Then, pray tell me, how would you handle him, Lucifer?” Michael asked as his gaze shifted towards Mammon too.

Lucifer paused for a moment, contemplating his answer before he spoke again.

“Leave Mammon to me.”

Michael and Mammon’s expressions changed to disbelief as they both stared at Lucifer.

“I’ll take over Mammon’s tutelage as long as you give him another chance.” Lucifer continued.

“Wait, for real?” Mammon asked, earning him a silencing look from Lucifer.

A thoughtful expression crossed Michael’s face as he considered Lucifer’s words.

“Alright, fine.” Michael finally relented. “One more chance.” He added as he gave Mammon a warning glare.

“Good.” Lucifer nodded before he then held up the black parchment envelope that he had found amongst his paperwork earlier. “While I’ve got you here, this was mixed in with my work. I believe relations with the Devildom are your domain.” He held the envelope out towards Michael.

Michael let out a small chuckle, “seeing as I’ve been so gracious to give Mammon another chance, why don’t you repay me by doing me a favour and dealing with this one, Lucifer?”

“Now hold on a minute,” Lucifer scowled, “I’ve already taken Mammon’s tutelage off of your hands, I’m not about to take on another one of your duties as some sort of thanks for—”

“Reliable as always. Thanks, Lucifer,” Michael waved off Lucifer’s comment as he turned and began to walk away, “good luck with tutoring Mammon!”

Lucifer’s scowl deepened as he watched Michael leave with a now carefree attitude.

“Typical Michael, always trying to get out of doing his own work.” Lucifer seethed under his breath as he turned the envelope over, placed it on top of the papers in his hand and broke the wax seal to pull out the letter inside. “This better be something quick and easy.”

Mammon watched Lucifer for a moment before he finally spoke up again in a sheepish voice.

“So… hey, Lucifer? Why d’ya stick up for me like that?”

Lucifer glanced at Mammon as he unfolded the parchment in his hand before letting his gaze drop down to the letter.

“Because I felt like it.” He tried to keep his tone as indifferent as possible. He rolled his eyes with a sigh as he read the letter and murmured under his breath, “great, an invitation to go to a diplomatic meeting in the Devildom.”

Lucifer beckoned at Mammon to follow him and as he slowly began to walk back through the hall while Mammon quickly fell into step beside him.

Sensing Mammon’s gaze on him, Lucifer cast a sideways glance at the other angel and quirked an eyebrow.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re really goin’ to be my mentor, huh?” Mammon asked.

“That’s what I told Michael, wasn’t it?”

“So… that means we’re gonna be workin’ together a lot from now on?”

“So it seems.”

“Does that mean we’ll be like… brothers?”

Lucifer let out a small sigh and shook his head, “don’t get too ahead of yourself, Mammon.”

[holographqq]

STUPID LOUBILL DRABBLE WHATT

Except not really. Just some stuff explained via Bill internal dialogue, @poorlycuratedsharkcake's Max Riley (lou's canon best of best friends) mentioned in tandem with her. First solo loubill work aside from bro and I's 80+ page google doc rp so yaayayayay also tw use of the word dyke bc its bill

Bill’s mom pissed him the fuck off. Really pissed him off. Made him angry to the point that he had decided to take Max and Lou up on that offer they’d made offhandedly about coming to stay a night at their shitty-ass apartment. They had gotten it at 17 to get out of their houses, each for some respective reason Bill was too mad to recall. He hadn’t asked, anyway. The cold night air bit at his acne-scarred face as he trooped along the frigid sidewalks of residential Eltingville, following his memory as best he could from his house to theirs.

It was good for meetings, Bill had speculated. No parents or annoying siblings to worry about when they got rowdy, other than one or both of the girls telling them to shut the fuck up or getting a noise complaint from next door. None of the guys cared very much about that. It was weird, Bill thought, repositioning the duffle bag of clothes he’d packed together, that the first time he was finally sneaking out to see a girl, it wasn’t for sex. That’s how it always was in the movies. He had hoped his senior year of high school, the big 18, would be a lot cooler. Nothing was very different than it had been since they were kids. That thought by itself quieted his frustration, replacing the sour feeling in his stomach with something sunken and depressive. He was an adult, he should’ve had a ton of girlfriends by now. A harem of ladies with size zero waists and beehive ‘do’s and bright lips. He guessed life was, in turn, about settling.

He came to a crossroads with little to no traffic in the late hour of the night. Was it left, or was it right? Irritated, he forced himself out of his growing melancholy to think. The gas station, where was it? He knew the apartment complex was right behind it. He points loosely with his finger, mouthing the names of the buildings along the street to his right, recalling what led where, before stuffing his hand back in his pocket and moving on. He remembered now. The club went to get snacks together last week before the meeting at that gas station, and distantly, he could see the very top of the sign, hardly making out the word ‘diesel’. His breath fogged before him as he jogged across the crosswalk, and once he was back on the lighter-colored pavement, he resumed his stiff and frigid powerwalk.

With the absence of distraction came the presentness of his current misery. His fight with his mom was the whole reason he was braving the elements to go sleep on a springy old sofa under a too-hot blanket under a water-stained roof. Fuck, he really hated his mom.

It had started as a grades conversation. The old hag could not fucking fathom the urgency in Bill’s system when he had found out that Willem-fucking-Dafoe was going to be Norman Osborn. He’d seen the trailers, Tobey was terrifically comic accurate; Bill had high hopes for this film, something rare to see. How could he possibly focus on chem when the biggest film of the new century was about to take the world by storm? It was fucking Spider-Man, for Christ’s sake! Bill’s teeth clench as a chill wracks him. He could survive on the heat his anger produced alone.

His mom just didn’t fucking get it. She never did.

She always shut him down. Any time he even attempted to talk to her about the important things, she wouldn’t look up or give more than an odd glance if she did. “Why that? Why this? I don’t understand.” before it was right back to her fucking spreadsheets, or whatever the hell it was she did. His brows were set and Bill stared at his feet. He had no tangible relationship with Jane. He hadn’t seen his dad in months, and he was even less close with Tommy. Bill Dickey was a stranger no matter who he was with. A stranger up until he was with the Club.

Regrettably, he no longer could discredit Max and Lou from contributing to it. The Club, or that familiar feeling of closeness they all shared, for better or for worse.

He thinks for a moment when his thoughts fall back to the girls. Why had they gotten that apartment again? His eyes shift across the street and move lazily to the street lamps as his face scowls in thought. Something about Lou’s mom, something about Max having the same problem Pete did, whatever that meant. It trickles down from the first meeting where the possibility of an apartment was brought up. How exactly had they put it…

Oh. Oh, yes, that’s right; he had gone to Lou to suggest a possible setup for DnD in the hypothetical new spot. She had assured him it was a non-negotiable, and that it wouldn’t look very nice but it would be theirs. Not Bill’s basement that his mom hassled him about tidying, not Pete or Jerry’s garage, where they had to find space around the cars, and not Josh’s dusty attic. Lou had been alone with Bill while they spoke, Max outside his house, warming the van while they spoke. He squinted; had Pete been in the van, too? He was pretty sure he’d asked for a ride. 

That wasn’t the issue. The matter at hand was that Lou had wasted fifteen entire minutes of his time, getting all sulky and depressed about her stupid shitty relationship with her mom after her parents had gotten divorced. At least, at that moment, the last time he thought about this interaction, it had seemed stupid and sulky. A subtle shift in his expression betrays that, in his current predicament, he finds himself experiencing something otherwise foreign to him; empathy.

Their parents had gotten divorced around a similar time, he’d deduced, from what she’d said. They both were around twelve or so. Lou claims that she used to be a lot meaner, Bill didn’t think it was possible for a dykey bitch like her. 

He remembered now. He had asked why. Why an apartment at seventeen? He had expected a typical Lou answer. Something akin to, “because I fucking can. So what?” Instead, for some reason still unknown to him, she told him about her mom. She was always high and had started constantly having boyfriends over. It was a shitty ordeal, he would admit, but didn’t involve him, so he didn’t care. He didn’t care when she confided in him, stiffly, that she hadn’t slept in her own bed in nearly two weeks, because her mom would kick her out every time a guy came over. He cared less when she told him that she hadn’t told Max that, so she wouldn’t be such a freeloader, always staying over, and had resigned to sleeping in the van in secret when she needed to.

He caught himself gnawing the inside of his lip. He didn’t fucking care. He understood, but it wasn’t his business. His dad had a girlfriend; at least, he thought he did. There was a girl he mentioned last time Bill was over there, but he didn’t know faces or names. The idea of his dad having a girlfriend made his stomach sour. Regrettably, he felt bad for Lou in that regard, but that was where his sympathies ended. 

Bill looks up, seeing the gas station leagues closer than before. He was walking kind of fast, wasn’t he? Or had he just spaced out? It didn’t matter to him. He just needed to get to that apartment before he turned into Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back. His mind wandered back to Lou, something that he never consciously wanted, and yet didn’t consciously stop. He’d brought a movie with him tonight. Jim Carrey’s The Mask. He knew she liked that movie. He liked it, first, but he remembers vividly seeing her face when watching it with the club, her seeing it for the first time. That stupid fucking grin was infectious, he’d give her that. Carrey was a comical genius, though, and so it was no surprise she’d be all teeth and no lip. She’d have been crazy to be anything but. 

Bill had not packed the movie to watch with her. Bill had packed the movie to calm his nerves when he got there. The girls had gotten an old box TV hooked up in the living room, one with a DVD player that actually worked well, unlike the one in his basement. If Lou wanted to watch it with him, that was her own business. He turned to walk behind the gas station, eyes landing on the front door of their single-story apartment. He wanted to sprawl out on that sofa, though, so she better be alright sitting in the floor.