#edit: i forgot to answer the last question!! sorry

[daily-odile]

AUGH I’d love to see more time looping odile if possible,,,,, how do you think she’d like; “devolve” over each of the acts as compared to Siffrin over time :O

ok im gonna be honest i did like portrait edits months ago and just never finished them. so here you go

act 3:

act 5:

[ghstyles]

Ethics | His Angel

· · ─────────────────────── · ·

Pairing: College!Yn x CrimeBossl!Harry

WC: 5k

Summery: You interview Harry for your business ethics class. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Hope you know how to sugarcoat

His Angel Masterlist

· · ─────────────────────── · ·

The phone's vibration pulls Harry from a light sleep.

He never sleeps deeply, years of survival instinct ensuring he remains aware of his surroundings even in rest. His hand moves automatically to the gun beneath his pillow before his brain registers the custom ringtone.

Y/N.

A spike of adrenaline hits his system as he answers immediately, mind cycling through worst-case scenarios.

"What's wrong?" he demands, already sitting up, calculating how quickly he can get to you.

Your voice comes through, not panicked or frightened, but rushed and slightly frantic in a different way.

"Yes, I'm calling at three am. Don't ask why I'm still awake," you begin without preamble. "Anyways, I checked my assignment last minute thinking I can do it in an hour. It turns out I have to interview someone in business. It's due tomorrow. Please save me."

Harry blinks once in the darkness of his bedroom, processing. The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, but irritation quickly replaces concern.

"Let me understand this," he says slowly, voice rough with interrupted sleep. "You called me at three in the morning because you need...a business interview."

He runs a hand through his hair, glancing at the clock on his nightstand. The red digits confirm the ungodly hour.

"Christ, Y/N. I thought you were hurt," he mutters, but there's more relief than anger in his tone.

You make a pleading sound on the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry! I know it's late, but I'm desperate. The assignment is worth like 30% of my grade and I completely forgot about the interview part until now and—"

"Breathe," he interrupts, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "What exactly do you need from me?"

Your sigh of relief is audible.

"Just answers to some basic questions about running a business. Challenges, opportunities, that kind of thing. I can make it quick, I promise."

Harry glances at his watch, calculating.

"I'll be at your place in twenty minutes," he decides. "Have coffee ready."

"Wait, really? You're coming over?" Your surprise is evident.

"Did you want to do this over the phone?" he asks dryly.

"No! No, coming over is perfect. Thank you! I'll make coffee."

Harry ends the call and stands, stretching briefly before reaching for clothes. As he dresses, he shakes his head slightly, wondering when exactly he became the type of man who would leave his bed at three in the morning to help with homework.

Only for you, he thinks.

Fifteen minutes later, his car pulls up outside your apartment building. The streets are empty, the city quiet in these early morning hours. His security team follows at a discreet distance, used to their boss's unpredictable schedule when it comes to you.

As he walks toward your building, he's already mentally editing his business history into something that won't implicate him in multiple felonies. Some truths can be told while some must remain buried.

Either way, he's certain this will be the most interesting business interview your professor has ever received.

The soft knock at your door comes sooner than expected. When you swing it open, Harry stands in the hallway looking surprisingly put-together for 3:20 AM with dark jeans and a black sweater that clings to his shoulders, hair slightly tousled but intentionally so. The only sign of the hour is the faint shadow along his jaw where stubble is beginning to form.

Before he can speak, you launch yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck.

"Hey you! My wonderful, spectacular, brilliant, handsome boyfriend," you gush with exaggerated enthusiasm, the words tumbling out in a caffeinated rush.

Harry catches you easily, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other hand moves to steady himself against the doorframe. His expression shifts from mild annoyance to reluctant amusement.

"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't we?" he murmurs, but his arm tightens around you nonetheless. "How much coffee have you had already?"

He steps inside, guiding you backward and closing the door behind him with his foot. His eyes scan your apartment automatically, a security check that's become a habit, before settling back on you.

You're wearing pajama shorts and an oversized university sweatshirt, your hair piled messily on top of your head. Textbooks and papers are scattered across your small dining table, your laptop open and surrounded by empty energy drink cans.

"Three cups and two Red Bulls," you admit sheepishly, releasing him to gesture toward the kitchen. "But I made you the good coffee. The expensive one you brought over last time."

Harry takes in your frazzled appearance. The dark circles under your eyes, the slightly manic energy in your movements. His expression softens fractionally.

"When's the last time you slept?" he asks, following you to the kitchen where a fresh mug of coffee waits.

You wave dismissively at the question.

"Sleep is for people who don't have a business ethics paper due at noon. I can sleep after I turn it in."

Harry accepts the coffee, taking a sip as he leans against your counter. He watches you over the rim of the mug, something like fond exasperation in his gaze.

"So," he says after a moment, "what exactly am I being interviewed about at this hour?"

You grab your notebook and pen, suddenly all business despite your disheveled appearance.

"Business ethics, leadership challenges, how you handle competition, your five-year growth strategy," you list off rapidly. "Oh, and don't worry, I'm using a pseudonym for you in the paper. Professor Johnson will never know I interviewed the most feared man in the city's underground."

You deliver this last part with a wink, as if it's a joke, but Harry's expression doesn't change.

"Thoughtful of you," he responds dryly. "Shall we begin before the sun rises?"

You settle on your small couch, notebook ready, while Harry takes the armchair across from you. The coffee mug looks almost comically delicate in his large hands.

"Okay, so for the paper, I'll be interviewing..." you pause dramatically, flipping to a fresh page in your notebook, "Mr. Bartholomew Whiskerton, CEO of Cuddly Kitten Enterprises."

Harry's expression freezes mid-sip of his coffee. He slowly lowers the mug, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Absolutely not," he says flatly.

You bite back a grin, enjoying his reaction.

"What? It's a great cover! No one will ever connect it to you."

"Because it's ridiculous," he counters, setting the mug down with deliberate control. "I'm not being quoted in your academic paper as 'Bartholomew Whiskerton.'"

You tap your pen against your notebook thoughtfully.

"Fine. How about... Duncan Powers? That sounds businessy."

Harry's expression remains unimpressed.

"That sounds like a porn star."

You laugh, the sound bright in the early morning quiet of your apartment.

"You would know," you tease, earning a dangerous look that only widens your smile. "Okay, okay. Sebastian Reynolds?"

Harry considers this for a moment, then shakes his head.

"Too pretentious. Even for me."

You huff dramatically, flopping back against the couch cushions.

"You're so picky! It's just a name for a paper no one except my professor will read."

"A paper about business ethics," Harry reminds you pointedly. "Starting with a completely fabricated identity seems...counterintuitive."

Your eyes roll skyward.

"Says the man who probably has seven different passports."

Harry doesn't confirm or deny this accusation, which is answer enough.

"James," he says after a moment. "James Harrington. Simple, forgettable, professional."

You consider the suggestion, head tilted.

"James Harrington," you repeat, testing it out. "Fine, but he needs a middle name. James H. Harrington sounds more official."

Harry sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

"It's three-thirty in the morning, and we're debating fictional middle initials."

You lean forward eagerly.

"I'm thinking 'H' for Hector. Or maybe Horatio?"

The look Harry gives you could freeze fire.

"H for Harry," he says with finality. "James Harry Harrington. Now can we please start the actual interview before I reconsider my life choices?"

You grin triumphantly, scribbling the name at the top of your page.

"See? That wasn't so hard. Mr. J.H. Harrington it is.And considering all that you do, this, shouldn’t be what makes you reconsider life choices. Just last week you…” You take a breath, “you know what? None of my business. Let’s start”

Harry's eyes narrow at your comment, the humor in his expression fading slightly. There's a moment of silence as he studies you across the small space between your seats.

Harry sets his coffee mug down slowly, that calculating look in his eyes.

"No, please," he says, voice deceptively soft. "Continue that thought. Last week I what, exactly?"

You clear your throat, suddenly very interested in organizing your interview notes.

"Nothing. First question! What would you say are the biggest ethical challenges facing business leaders today?"

Harry doesn't take the bait, his gaze unwavering.

"Last week I had three men taken to the warehouse for questioning about missing product," he supplies calmly, as if discussing the weather. "Is that what you were referring to? Or perhaps the negotiation with the Italians about the new territory lines?"

His tone remains conversational, but there's an edge to it. Not anger, but a reminder of exactly who and what he is.

"I'm reconsidering my life choices because I'm sitting in a college apartment at half past three, helping with homework, when I should be sleeping before my meeting with the harbor commissioner at seven."

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, closing some of the distance between you.

"Yet…you came" you say softly in a way that sounded like a question. 

 "Because you called."

There's something unexpectedly vulnerable in that simple statement. An admission that carries more weight than any declaration.

Your expression softens, the teasing fading into something more genuine.

"Thank you," you say quietly. "I really do appreciate it, Harry."

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, then leans back, picking up his coffee again.

"Now," he says, voice returning to its usual controlled tone, "I believe Mr. J.H. Harrington has an interview to complete before sunrise, or his very sleep-deprived girlfriend will fail her business ethics class."

You smile gratefully at the shift back to safer territory, picking up your pen.

"Right. First question for the distinguished Mr. Harrington: What would you say is the biggest ethical challenge facing business leaders today?"

Harry's lips quirk slightly as he considers the question, slipping effortlessly into the role of legitimate businessman.

"Balancing profit motives with social responsibility," he answers smoothly, as if he's given this response at actual business conferences. "The pressure to deliver quarterly results often conflicts with long-term sustainable practices."

You blink, surprised by how convincingly normal his answer sounds.

"Wow, that was actually good," you comment, scribbling it down. "Have you been practicing legitimate business speak?"

Harry's expression remains perfectly serious, but there's a glint in his eye.

"I attend chamber of commerce meetings every third Thursday, angel. Bring donuts and everything."

The deadpan delivery makes you snort with laughter, the earlier tension completely dissolved as you continue the interview, Harry crafting increasingly plausible answers for your paper while carefully omitting any details that might raise eyebrows—or federal investigations.

Looking at the next question, you snort, “this one might be hard to sugarcoat. How do you handle managing difficult employees or conflicts within your team?“

Harry takes another sip of his coffee, a dangerous amusement flickering in his eyes at your question. He sets the mug down deliberately, considering his answer.

"How do I handle difficult employees," he repeats slowly, as if testing the words.

You bite your lip to suppress a laugh, knowing exactly what's going through his mind. The images of concrete rooms, of Marco and his particular set of persuasion skills, of the rumors you've heard whispered about what happens to those who cross Harry Styles.

"Yes, Mr. Harrington," you prompt innocently. "Your conflict resolution strategies. For the paper."

Harry leans back in the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. The early morning light filtering through your blinds casts shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his features.

"I believe in clear communication of expectations," he begins, his voice taking on that smooth, professional cadence that would be perfectly at home in any boardroom. "When someone joins my...organization, they understand precisely what's required of them."

He pauses, choosing his next words carefully.

"Conflicts typically arise from misunderstandings or competing priorities. I address these directly, one-on-one, rather than allowing tensions to fester."

You raise an eyebrow, scribbling notes.

"And if direct conversations don't resolve the issue?" you press, unable to help yourself.

A cold smile touches Harry's lips.

"Then more decisive action becomes necessary," he replies smoothly. "Sometimes people need to be...reassigned to positions better suited to their capabilities."

You snort softly. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

Harry's expression doesn't change, but his eyes hold a warning.

"For your paper? Yes, that's exactly what we're calling it," he says pointedly. "I find that most workplace conflicts can be resolved through clear consequences for underperformance."

You're still writing, struggling to translate mob boss tactics into corporate language.

"In extreme cases," Harry continues unprompted, "separation from the company becomes the only viable solution. I don't believe in maintaining relationships that no longer serve mutual interests."

You look up from your notebook, meeting his gaze.

"That's actually...not terrible business advice," you admit. "Though I'm guessing your definition of 'separation from the company' is a bit more permanent than a severance package."

Harry's expression remains impassive, but there's a hint of appreciation in his eyes for your quick mind, for the way you don't flinch from what he is.

"Write that I prioritize team cohesion over individual egos," he suggests, redirecting slightly. "And that I reward loyalty and results equally."

You nod, adding his suggestions to your notes.

"So basically, do your job well, don't cause problems, and stay loyal, or you'll be 'reassigned' to a position six feet underground," you summarize quietly, a ghost of a smile playing at your lips. "Very ethical, Mr. Harrington."

"It's a competitive industry," Harry replies with perfect deadpan delivery. "Only the most dedicated professionals survive."

“Speaking of competitive industry” you roll the eraser on your chin, trying to pick a question that can be sugar coated, “What strategies do you use to stay ahead of your competitors and how do you differentiate your business from others in the same industry?”

Harry shifts slightly in his seat, a predatory gleam entering his eyes at the mention of competition. This is a topic that clearly interests him and perhaps too much for your academic paper.

"What strategies do I use to stay ahead of competitors," he repeats thoughtfully, running a finger along the rim of his coffee mug.

You watch him carefully, aware that you're treading into territory where his actual business practices might be difficult to translate into acceptable corporate strategy.

"Market research," he begins after a moment, his voice taking on that smooth, professional tone again. "Understanding what others are offering and identifying gaps they've overlooked."

You scribble this down, nodding encouragingly.

"I maintain a comprehensive intelligence network," he continues, choosing each word with precision. "Information is power in any industry. Knowing your competitors' moves before they make them gives you an undeniable advantage."

You look up from your notebook, raising an eyebrow.

"Intelligence network? Is that what we're calling Marco and his guys who hang out in bars listening for gossip?"

Harry's expression doesn't change, but there's a warning in his eyes.

"For your paper, yes," he says pointedly. "Industry analysis and strategic information gathering."

You press your lips together to suppress a smile and continue writing.

"As for differentiation," Harry continues without prompting, "exclusivity and reputation are key. My business provides services that others simply cannot, or will not, offer. Our clients understand that working with us means a certain level of...commitment and discretion they won't find elsewhere."

You pause in your writing, pen hovering over the page.

"So...unique value proposition and customer loyalty," you translate, looking to him for confirmation.

Harry inclines his head slightly, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.

"Precisely. We also maintain strong relationships with key stakeholders across various sectors, ensuring smoother operations."

"Stakeholders," you repeat dryly. "Like Judge Reynolds who mysteriously dismissed those charges last month?"

Harry's expression remains perfectly neutral.

"Strategic partnerships," he corrects smoothly. "Write that I emphasize the importance of a robust network across complementary industries."

You add this to your notes, shaking your head slightly.

"Anything else about your competitive strategy, Mr. Harrington? Perhaps your approach to mergers and acquisitions?" you ask, unable to resist the double meaning.

Something dangerous flashes in Harry's eyes, but it's gone so quickly you might have imagined it.

"I prefer organic growth to hostile takeovers," he says, his voice dropping slightly lower. "Though when presented with a particularly valuable opportunity, I'm not opposed to aggressive expansion."

He leans forward, elbows on his knees.

"The most important differentiator, however, is reputation," he adds, his tone suddenly serious. "In business, your word must be unbreakable. When I make a promise to clients, to partners, to employees, it's kept. That reliability is rare in any industry."

You look up from your writing, struck by the sincerity in his voice. This, at least, isn't a translation but rather a genuine principle he lives by, criminal enterprise or not.

"That's actually...really good," you admit, finishing your notes. "Professor Johnson is going to think I made you up."

Harry shrugs smugly

You flip to the next page of your notebook, stifling a yawn despite the caffeine coursing through your system. Harry watches you, noting the fatigue beginning to show in your movements.

"I think that's it but I'll ask a few more just in case I don't meet the word count," you explain, scanning your list of questions.

You look up at him, mentally bracing yourself.

"So, uh... how would you define ethical leadership?"

Harry's carefully constructed business persona seems to slip slightly. He leans back in the chair, something cynical flickering across his expression.

"Ethical leadership," he repeats, a hint of dark amusement in his voice. "In my world? It means not killing someone unless they deserve it."

Your pen freezes mid-air.

"Harry..."

He shrugs unapologetically.

"You wanted honesty. Ethics are relative, angel. I have my own code. I don't hurt innocents. I don't deal with children. I keep my word. More than most 'legitimate' businessmen can say."

He takes a sip of his coffee, now gone cold.

"Politicians take bribes to let corporations poison water supplies. Banks foreclose on families while paying their CEOs millions. At least I'm honest about what I am."

You sigh, trying to formulate a way to translate this into something you can actually include in your paper.

"Okay, let's try this. What's the hardest leadership decision you've had to make?"

Harry's expression darkens, his eyes growing distant.

"Killing Michael Hayes," he answers without hesitation. "He was like a brother to me. Taught me everything when I was just a kid on the streets. But he was skimming money, selling information to the Russians."

He says this so matter-of-factly that a chill runs down your spine despite your familiarity with his world.

"I did it myself. Owed him that much. Quick, clean. More mercy than he deserved for the betrayal, but..." he trails off, then refocuses on you. "That's leadership. Doing the necessary thing, even when it breaks something in you."

You stare at him, pen completely forgotten. These glimpses into his past and into the events that shaped him are rare and always unsettling.

"Where do you see your business in five years?" you ask quietly, trying to move to safer ground.

Harry's laugh is short and without humor.

"Alive," he says simply. "In my line of work, five-year plans are a luxury. I see myself either expanding to the east side, or dead. There's not much middle ground."

He notices your expression and something in his face softens slightly.

"But if you're asking what I want..." he continues, surprising you, "I want enough security that I don't have to look over my shoulder every minute. Enough power that no one would dare come after what's mine."

His eyes meet yours, and there's something unexpectedly vulnerable in them.

"Maybe a place on the coast. Somewhere quiet. With you." The admission seems to surprise even him. "That's assuming I don't get shot or arrested first."

The casual way he references his potential violent death or imprisonment hangs in the air between you, a stark reminder of the reality of his existence and by extension, yours as his partner.

"Write whatever sanitized version of that you need for your paper," he adds, his walls coming back up. "I don't imagine Professor Johnson wants the unvarnished truth."

The sudden shift catches Harry off-guard. 

One moment answering questions, the next with an armful of you. His body tenses briefly in surprise before relaxing, arms wrapping around your waist automatically.

You climb into his lap and bury your face against his neck, saying nothing but holding onto him fiercely. The warm, familiar scent of his cologne envelops you. Expensive and subtle, mixed with something that's just him.

For a moment, Harry remains still, processing your reaction. Then one hand moves to the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair while the other arm tightens around you, securing you against him.

"What's this for?" he asks quietly, his voice a low rumble you can feel against your cheek.

You don't answer, just hold him tighter, overwhelmed by the casual way he spoke about his own mortality about a future that might include you, or might end abruptly in violence.

Harry seems to understand your silence. His hand continues its gentle movement through your hair, a soothing rhythm that contrasts with the dangerous life he described moments ago.

"Hey," he murmurs against your temple, his voice softer than it ever is with anyone else. "I'm still here."

The simple statement acknowledges everything unsaid between you. The danger, the uncertainty, the reality of loving someone who lives with death as a constant companion.

For several minutes, you stay like this, the early morning silence of your apartment broken only by the sound of your breathing and the occasional distant car passing outside. Harry holds you patiently, his usual restless energy contained, giving you whatever time you need.

One of his hands moves to trace gentle patterns along your spine, and you feel him press a kiss to your hair. A rare tenderness he shows to no one but you.

"I shouldn't have said that," he finally offers, his voice low. "About being dead or arrested. It was...unnecessary."

You can count on one hand the number of times Harry Styles has come close to an apology. This is as near as he gets to an acknowledgment that his words affected you in a way he didn't intend.

His fingers find your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes search yours, more open than they've been all night.

"That place on the coast," he says quietly. "I meant that part."

"What if I hate the ocean?" you mumble against his chest, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

His eyebrow arches slightly, calling your bluff. He studies your face for a moment, catching the telltale twitch at the corners of your mouth. His expression remains serious, but something playful enters his eyes

"Bullshit," he says simply, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "You've got that painting of the coast in your bedroom. You wear that shell necklace your grandmother gave you. You fall asleep to those ridiculous ocean sound recordings."

The fact that he's noticed these details, small things about you that most people would overlook, makes something warm unfurl in your chest.

"Besides," he continues, his voice dropping lower, "I've seen your face when you talk about the beach house your family rented that summer. Your eyes light up."

His hand slides to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

"But if you've suddenly developed a hatred for ocean views and sea air," he adds with mock seriousness, "I suppose I could consider a mountain cabin. Somewhere remote. Defensible position. Good sightlines."

You roll your eyes at his tactical assessment of romantic getaway locations.

"Of course you'd evaluate a vacation home based on its defensive capabilities," you tease, some of the earlier tension dissolving.

Harry's lips quirk in that rare, genuine smile.

"Old habits," he admits, then adds more softly, "But I'd make sure it had a good kitchen. Those windows you like. Space for your books."

The casual way he includes these details about your preferences and things that matter to you, reveals more than any grand declaration could. Harry Styles notices everything, catalogs it away, uses the information to protect what's his. But sometimes, like now, he uses it simply to make you happy.

"I'd still need to come back to the city for business," he adds, his tone shifting back to something more practical. "But a place just for us...somewhere no one could find us unless we wanted them to..."

His eyes grow distant for a moment, as if he's actually visualizing this future. A safe haven away from the violence and chaos of his world.

Then his gaze refocuses on you, something possessive and tender mingling in his expression.

"Don't pretend you hate the ocean, angel," he murmurs, leaning closer. "You're a terrible liar."

"It's rude to call your girlfriend a liar," you mumble indignantly, settling more comfortably against him. "Were you absent that week from boyfriend school?"

Harry's chest rumbles with a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your cheek as you rest your head on him. His fingers continue their gentle path through your hair, occasionally massaging your scalp in a way that makes you want to purr like a cat

His arm tightens around you, adjusting your position slightly so you fit more perfectly against him. The expensive fabric of his sweater is soft against your cheek.

"Boyfriend school," he repeats dryly. "Must have missed that lesson between 'How to Intimidate Rival Organizations' and 'Advanced Weapons Handling.'"

You make a small sound of amusement against his chest.

"I never attended boyfriend school," he continues, his voice a low rumble beneath your ear. "Had to figure it out as I went. No instruction manual for dating a college student when you're..." he pauses, searching for the right words, "...in my line of work."

His hand shifts to trace lazy patterns along your spine, the gentle touch at odds with the dangerous man delivering it.

"Though I'm fairly certain rule number one is 'don't wake your boyfriend at three in the morning for homework help,'" he adds, but there's no real reproof in his tone.

You tilt your head to look up at him, finding his expression softer than usual in the dim light of your apartment.

"And yet here you are," you point out quietly. "Helping with homework at three in the morning."

Something passes across his face. A flicker of surprise, as if he's just realized the same thing. Harry Styles, feared mob boss, holding his girlfriend in the early hours, discussing ethical leadership for a college paper.

"Here I am," he agrees, a note of wonder barely detectable in his voice.

His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the gesture unexpectedly tender.

"Maybe I need to reevaluate what makes me dangerous," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Agreeing to be interviewed as Bartholomew Whiskerton seems like a significant weakness."

You can't help the laugh that escapes you, the sound bright in the quiet apartment.

"It was James Harry Harrington, and you know it," you correct, poking his chest accusingly. "Don't pretend you forgot."

His lips quirk upward, that rare, genuine smile making another appearance.

"How could I forget the distinguished Mr. Harrington?" he asks, his voice taking on that smooth, professional tone he used during the interview. "CEO of...what was it again? Legitimate Business Ventures, Inc.?"

You giggle, the sound slightly slurred with fatigue now that the adrenaline of your academic panic is wearing off.

"You're ridiculous," you tell him, stifling a yawn.

Harry's expression shifts to something more assessing as he notices your fatigue.

"And you're exhausted," he observes, his hand resuming its gentle stroking of your hair. "Did you get any of that paper written before you called me?"

Harry watches as you fight to keep your eyes open, your words slurring with exhaustion. Your head grows heavier against his chest as you lose the battle with consciousness.

"Gonna...do that...now," you mumble through a yawn, even as your eyes drift closed.

He feels your body relaxing against him, your breathing beginning to slow and deepen. A ghost of a smile touches his lips. Something no one else would ever see.

"Of course you are," he murmurs, his voice soft with an affection he shows to no one but you.

For a few minutes, he simply holds you, one hand continuing its gentle path through your hair while the other secures you against him. The first pale light of dawn has begun to filter through your blinds, casting long shadows across the floor.

Harry glances at your laptop, still open on the table surrounded by textbooks and empty energy drink cans. The business ethics paper that was so urgent at 3 AM now seems to have taken a backseat to sleep.

With a quiet sigh that's more resigned than annoyed, he carefully shifts, gathering you more securely in his arms as he stands. You murmur something unintelligible but don't wake, instinctively curling closer to his warmth.

He carries you to your bedroom, laying you gently on the unmade bed. You immediately roll to your side, face pressing into the pillow with a contented sigh.

Harry pulls the blanket over you, then stands for a moment, watching the rise and fall of your breathing. The dangerous mob boss, the feared enforcer, the ruthless businessman—all those versions of him fade slightly in this quiet moment.

Then he turns and walks back to the living room, rolling up his sleeves as he sits down at your laptop. The screen illuminates his face as he begins to type, occasionally referring to the notes you've taken.

By the time you wake up, groggy and disoriented hours later, you'll find a completed draft of your paper saved on your desktop, a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, and a note on your table written in his precise handwriting:

"Mr. J.H. Harrington sends his regards. Paper needs your final review before submission. I have meetings until 3. Call if you need anything. - H"

And beneath that, a postscript that would surprise anyone who knows his reputation:

"P.S. The ocean house remains on the table. Sleep well, angel."

Taglist: @silastylesswift @babegoals @harryssunflower17 @puzio19 @goldensunflowerss-blog @drewrry @tinawritesstuff @dipmeinhoneyh @spinninc @harrystyleshotwife

[a-hermit-pining]

I saw this on Twitter (i forgot the @), but it really got me thinking. What would your hc be if the boys were playing the game and you were the mc? I hc that Caleb would save every "y/n laughing compilation" he comes across, rafayel would edit y/n's face on random fish and make crack edits and from his alt account he would drop the most gorgeous fanart, and for some reason I feel like sylus would use "quality time" religiously

Hi anon, thank you for sending this in ^^

I completely agree with your takes. Here is my take to compliment yours.

Rafayel: Is the undisputed Fanart King, sketching your character from every angle, in every possible outfit. If an art contest exists, he has already submitted three entries before anyone even knew it was happening. But beyond his artistic obsession, he is also the cursed glitch hoarder. While normal people would be horrified at a headless version of you appearing in-game, Rafayel takes screenshots for exclusive content, considering it a divine blessing from the tech gods. Despite his god-tier art skills, he has zero patience for level locks that force him to wait before progressing, so instead of playing at a normal pace, he rage-quits for months, then returns to binge the game in one sleepless week. His camera roll is half fanart, half stunning in-game scenery that he edits like it’s going in an art gallery.

Xavier: Does not play games for casual enjoyment. He plays for answers. He is a speedrun menace, hitting the first dialogue option before the text box even fully loads. If he gets stuck, he immediately transforms into a lore-devouring beast, reading every spoiler possible just to figure out how to proceed. The only thing keeping him from fully losing his sanity is his refusal to buy premium currency, his pride dictates that he must grind every last diamond by sheer willpower alone. And so, he hoards gems like his soul depends on it, progresses at breakneck speed, and once he’s finished all available content, he descends into 3 AM theory rabbit holes instead of doing something sane like, you know… sleeping. He probably has a color-coded spreadsheet tracking all the route impacts.

Zayne: No one would ever suspect that the infamous, critically acclaimed AO3 writer Frozen Seal, master of soul-crushing angst and tender, breathtaking romance, is actually the stoic, overworked cardiologist Zayne. His fics have a reputation for being so emotionally devastating that readers leave essays in the comments. His update schedule? Completely dictated by his hospital shifts. His author’s notes? Usually something like "Sorry, a patient coded. Will update later." Writes the most heart-wrenching, steamy romance scenes with surgical precision, leaving readers sobbing and sweating in equal measure. Has the smut writing skills of an ace author- which are god tier. Daydreams about you constantly, except when he’s actively resuscitating someone (Even he has limits.)

Sylus: Sylus owns everything. Every premium outfit, every pose, every CG. His entire paycheck is funneled into this game, and no one will ever know the full extent of his power. If questioned about how he maxed out every possible feature, he simply smirks and says, “Skill issue.” But despite single-handedly funding the dev team, he is infuriatingly secretive about his content. His in-game gallery? Locked. His premium screenshots? Hidden. Some speculate he has developers tied up in his basement feeding him exclusive content, but according to Sylus, it’s simply the fruit of his labor. Strangely enough, despite having literally everything, he still has beef with the gacha system and will cuss out the algorithm if he doesn’t get his way.

Caleb: Is cursed with abysmal gacha luck, pulling three-star memories every single time without fail. He suffers, but at this point, he embraces the suffering like a tragic hero. His nights are spent watching crack compilations at 2 AM, laughing silently to himself like a man on the verge of losing his mind (he is this 🤏🏻close). By all accounts, he plays the game rationally until your character appears, at which point all logic is abandoned. He has every single one of Zayne’s fics bookmarked, and he doesn’t just skim he analyzes them like scholarly literature, leaving long, heartfelt comments. And, of course, in the quiet solitude of his room, a freakishly realistic body pillow of you sits on his bed. If questioned? He doesn’t even blink. "It’s a limited-edition collector’s item."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stark Contrast 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, lies, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online friend isn't who he claims to be.

Characters: Tony Stark

Sister series to Captain's Orders

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It's been a long day. Every day seems longer than the last. All that overtime is adding up. It's needling right at the base of your neck.

Unclench your jaw. You keep forgetting. The pressure makes your head hurt. You rub your eye socket and yawn as you drag your feet down the dark pavement.

You approach your building and look at the heel of your hand, mascara smeared on your skin, no doubt across your face too. Oh well, you're home. Not necessarily the perfect haven but a place to be alone.

You bob in the elevator to the music in your headphones. You step off and keep your head down in a lazy shuffle down the hallway. You unlock your door and spin inside, letting the song play out as you hang your jacket and purse. You kick of your sneakers and drift into the kitchen, mindlessly searching for something quick to eat.

You detach your headphones from your phone and take them off. You let the music drone as you mull over the effort to cook a box of processed mac and cheese. You pause the music and scroll through your feed. Nothing interesting. You let a live feed play. You never pay much attention to the new but it's good white noise. 

You pull down your notification bar. Oh shoot. You forgot to answer the last message.

You'd been chatting with Eddie during your lunch but had to get back to the grind. Those bougie middle-aged women won't find those overpriced candles themselves. Then they'll complain that the Martha Stewart limited edition is sold out. Oh, to have such simple problems.

You blink as the video plays in a little box floating over the chat. 

'Sorry. Got caught up at work. Just seeing this now. Hope you have a good night.' You send the message and pull the video into fullscreen.

He doesn't always answer at night. Or sometimes for days. He's pretty busy. An engineer or something. You met on some discord when Elden Ring dropped.

You narrow your eyes at the stream. You swear every time you see a screen, Tony Stark is on it. There he is now, giving a presser to a fawning crowd of reporters.

He claps his hand to his chest pocket and gives a subtle look down as he slides out his phone. He drops it back in and shrugs at his adoring audience, "I'm a busy guy, what can I say?"

They laugh, unbothered by his distraction. You turn back to your search for an easy meal. Oh, you still have that frozen pizza. This late, it'll make your chest burn in the morning but you don't care.

You preheat the oven and go to your phone, agitated by the murmur of the reporters and their softball questions. You don't have a problem with the man or his mighty band of Avengers, hey, they do their best. It's this whole celebrity shell around them. The sort that has half the population is a dysfunctional parasocial relationship.

You switch to a reality show that pits home bakers against each other. It's a bad choice. It stokes your already twisting hunger and sparks your sweet tooth. You never shy away from a treat. Good thing you don't have any.

The stove beeps as the subtle smell of smoke rises. You figure it's not that bad if the alarm isn't going. You put the pizza in and swipe up your phone. You pace around and check your news feed. There's a new Amiibo out. Nope, you will not get suckered into another money grab. You're save. Not for anything special, just rent. Another price hike. The next one might put you out.

You pizza finishes and your phone buzzes. You cut it into uneven slices and take a few on a paper towel. You flop onto the couch and read Eddie's response.

'I get it. Probably out on a date with a hot guy. Or lady. No judgment.'

You shake your head. He's such and idiot sometimes. 'Nah. You're awake?'

'You know I don't sleep.'

You wouldn't guess it by his erratic responses. If anything, you'd only assume he doesn't keep a routine. His bouts of activity are unpredictable.

'Let's not talk about work.' He replies before you can. The next message is a mood. 'I'm over it.'

'Sure. What do we talk about? You gonna help me co-op Starscourge Radahn? You never log on anymore.'

Your phone quakes as an audio call comes in. You nearly drop it as you opt to save the slice of pizza in your other hand first. You finally hit answer with your greasy thumb.

"Fair warning, I'm eating. I'm flipping starving," you say.

"You sound ravenous," Eddie says. "So, what's for... a very late dinner?"

"Pizza. Spinach and mozzarella."

"Order in?"

"Frozen," you mutter.

"Gross," he remarks. He's a bit of a snob. "You coulda hit me up. I'd send you some money for real food. I'm sure you've got a few shwarma places around that hellhole."

"Har har. If I'm so poor, why do you talk to me?"

"Good question. Can I think about it?" He snickers as you roll your eyes. "Look, sweetheart, I'm sorry about the video game--"

"You know, you sound like my dad."

"I do?" He nearly yelps.

"Sweetheart this. Video games. You talk like you were born in the 60s."

"I heard the 60s were pretty hip," he laughs.

"Hip? Oh you're definitely a catfish," you tease.

"How do I know you're not some desperate housewife using me for kicks?" He accuses.

"I sent you pics," you say.

"I've sent mine too," he retorts. "Alright, only solution here is to admit we're both catfish. You want me to order you good food and I want... uh, well, you're a good distraction."

"A good distraction? That's it?" You huff. "Thanks, Ed."

"I'm playing. You know I like you. I was just on my way to meet this tall blonde and I called you instead."

"Sure you were," you hiss. "You know, I had too long a day for you to be so annoying."

He cackles. You smile, just a bit. He really can be a butt. You don't know why you talk to him.

"How's the pizza? You want me to order you some real stuff yet?"

"Eddie," you sigh. It's a nice offer but you're not stupid. You don't give people on the internet your address. "That's too much."

"It's really not," he insists.

"To me it is." You drop the pizza and paper towel on the lone TV table by your ratty sofa. "You know, I get it, you're trying to be nice, but... you just kinda make me feel..."

"What? I make you feel... some sort of way, so that's good, right?"

"Ugh, don't. I get it, alright? I'm poor. Trash," you cross your arms and sit back. "Go and meet the tall blonde and have your fancy five star dinner."

He's quiet, "I was only messing with you."

"Well, maybe you should stop," you say as you sit forward and talk directly into your phone. "You obviously don't have the time for me. And a lot more important friends so--"

"Hey, come on, it's a joke--"

You hit end and toss your phone to the other end of the couch. You already know you overreacted. Shoot. Ugh.

It's just that stupid woman today, yelling at you over a bunny ornament, like the fact that is was put on the wrong shelf is your fault. You organise the shelves constantly but people don't care. They don't read either.

Your phone jitters again. You ignore and get up. You pack away the leftover pizza and put it in the fridge. That's your dinner for tomorrow, if not the next day.

God, why does he have to rub his money in your face? His super fun life. He went to Tokyo last week on a work trip.

You're a bitch. Insecure at that. It's probably best you cut free now. You wouldn't want to project all that on him. Besides, it's starting to feel like he only talks to you to make himself feel better. He shouldn't need that much help.

❤️

It's your own fault. You know it. Your worst and best trait is your crippling self-awareness. You know what you are, how you are, but it doesn't make it better.

You feel bad. You always do. Even if you're right, you feel rotten. You just don't like being like that. And what did Eddie do but joke around?

Did he have to keep offering to pay for you? Or mention that tall blonde?

Sigh. Just focus. You go back to putting the throw pillows back into the display basket. You watched a pair of kids toss them around for the last hour.

Life isn't easy and you should stop expecting it to be. That's your problem. You can't settle for what you have.

Julie, your manager comes by as you set the last of the pillows on those nearly overflowing the basket. You smile. She scowls.

"Your name tag's upside down," she points to your chest.

You look down. Oh jeez. You flip it around.

"Dress code infraction. Next time, I'll write you up." She warns.

"Sorry," you frown.

"There's customers. Smile."

As if one cue, the automatic doors open. You busy yourself with the next display, as if the napkin rings are that interesting. Julie snaps her fingers at Casey. He sniffs and tries to act like he didn't smoke up before he punched in.

"You're the greeter. Mind doing some greeting," she hisses.

"Oh, yeah," he stands and struts away from the lawn chair display, "hey, dude, like, hi. Welcome to The Home Hub. Anything I can help you-- woah, no way."

He starts laughing. You peek over your shoulder as Julie sighs. Casey coughs and clears his throat, "bro, am I high or is this dude Iron Man?"

You turn and narrow your eyes at the man. Goatee, sunglasses, a nice suit. He bears a striking resemblance to the man behind the podium at he presser the night before. You tilt your head. That's impossible.

"Casey, go to the warehouse and start downstocking," Julie sneers as she stomps forward. "I'm so sorry, sir. We-- Oh, oh. Oh my god, it is him."

She swoons and fans herself. Your eyes go wide as you give a goof smile. She's ridiculous.

"Hey, sweetheart," he purrs at her. "I'm looking for uh, a..." he takes off his sunglasses and glances around, "a bath mat."

"Bath mat? Uh. Oh, er..."

"You," he points in your direction. You turn to look for someone else behind you. "Show me."

You face him and Julie gives you a crazed sneer. You step away from the napkin rings. "Sure, uh, sir, they're in the back."

"Amazing," he winks as he approaches. There's something about his cadence. You never noticed on the screen, but it's familiar?

"Tony Stark, but I'm sure you already know," he says as he comes up next to you.

You continue down the centre aisle and nod, "yep, uh, kinda."

"Kinda?" He wonders.

"I mean, you're Iron Man or something, right?"

"Or something," he chortles. "You know what, on the second hand," he stops and checks out a silver statue of a naked Grecian goddess, "I think I came for this." He traces along her tits. "Don't make em like they used to, huh?"

He looks at you. No, he looks at your chest. You sputter.

"Bath mats are this way," you turn.

"Ah, come on, don't be like that FinchiePie."

You stop short. Your lashes flick and you gulp. How does he know your user name. You turn to look at him.

He adjusts his tie as he comes closer.

"You know, my middle name is Edward. Anthony Edward Stark."

You stare at him. No, it can't be. That's ridiculous.

"Eddie?" You rasp.

He puts his hands out and smirks, "it's a cute nickname, isn't it?"

"No."

"You left things a little tense. I don't like untied ends so..."

"It's a joke. A prank," you shake your head. "Is this what you do for fun?"

"I'm a funny guy, sweetheart, but I'm not joking right now," he comes closer. "Look, if I tell you the truth, that there was no tall blonde, that I was lying, will you give me a chance?"

You search his face. You're lost. Your disbelief muddles reality.

"This isn't real."

"You ever tried shwarma? It's so damn good."

"No, Eddie-- No, Tony?" Your eyes flit back and forth. "I... I gotta..." you spin and scurry away.

He calls your name. You can't stop. You run down the bath aisle and into the employee restroom. You twist the lock and stare at your baffled reflection.

"What the fuck?" You ask the person in the mirror.

[pommpuriinn]

Mine mysterious Boyfriend

ੈ✩ synopsis - y/n is a very successful influencer who is known for producing aesthetically pleasing vlogs about her travels, normal day to day life, going to restaurants to taste test food. But even though she gets millions of viewers on a daily basis, her most popular videos are of her sitting down and explaining the latest drama to her never before seen boyfriend. Her viewers are so curious on how he looks since they've been together for a couple of years and y/n has always blurred or added a cute hand drawn character of a white dog with dark eye bags to cover his face whenever he gets in frame. That is until a trip to Japan where the couple was peacefully vlogging by a little tanghulu stand, and a streamer was filming not that far from the couple and caught them in 4K. Revealing y/n’s boyfriend to the world.

ੈ✩ pairing - soobin x fem!reader

ੈ✩ a/n - hey…𓏗-𓏗 it’s been a while since my last post and again sorry. I have been working and trying to get my bag. A little life update: I met katseye during their first fan event which was CRAZYt they are so pretty in person, then I went to see the txt vr movie seeing them so close was freaking me out while also kicking my feet (and yes I’m seeing it a second time I’m delulu). I want to start writing little scenarios of the members instead of full stories. Maybe it will help me write more and get more creative. Inspired by my girl Stephanie Soo and her husband (I love them!)

Y/n Rose started her channel 3 years ago and it instantly blew up because of her aesthetic style and people loved how relatable and humble she was with her new found fame through social media. Lots of people talk about how y/n is a loser stuck in a hot person’s body because of her clumsy self and does little stupid things that people find funny and cute. Her viewers didn’t just get invested into her very entertaining content, but because of y/n’s mysterious boyfriend. Who goes by Soob or Binie and sometimes toki which means ‘bunny’ in Korean. Reddit fans tried their hardest to try to find any photos of her boyfriend through her old post, but unfortunately nothing was found besides him being Korean because of the toki nickname and in videos he’s teaching y/n Korean.

Fans are so desperate to see his face since they know he has to be fine to be able to bag someone as beautiful as y/n, plus he literally has people post edits on tiktok of his hands because his hands are just that attractive to many. Luckily y/n’s fans are respectful and don’t push y/n for information even fans that meet y/n in person don’t sneak pictures of him and don’t answer people’s questions about him.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

Currently the two are flying back to Japan since it’s literally their favorite place to visit since it has everything they’re obsessed with like; anime, Nintendo store, and really good food. Y/n filmed a little montage of herself playing on her deco rog ally (a handheld console almost like a switch) then of her putting on skincare along with a face mask. Until tragedy struck because Soob took off his glasses and placed them on his seat before going to the restroom to wash his face, as he wanted to do his skincare with y/n and once he came back Soob completely forgot he placed his glasses down and sat on them.

The two gasped at the crack sound that came from his butt. “No you did not.” Y/n tried covering her laugh with placing a hand over her mouth, while looking at Soob and back at the camera. Soob slowly reached down and took a pair of now flimsy glasses causing the couple to silently laugh. Y/n accidentally hit her little table so hard that her camera fell off since it was placed at the edge. With Soob’s quick reaction he was able to catch the camera mid air, “y/n-ah!” He whispered yelled. “We can’t already start breaking things before we even make it to Japan.” Soob adjusted the camera in a better angle while y/n hid her face in her (Soob’s) hoodie trying not to be too loud.

After calming down y/n wiped her tears from laughing so much. “Show them your glasses binie.” Soob then held his glasses out like those people who review makeup products, with his hand behind the glasses so the camera can focus on the damage. “Mind you this is the second time this has happened. Where he sets his glasses on the chair goes do something then comes back and his ass does all the damage.” Soob breaks into a laugh. “Sorry that my ass is pretty strong.”

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

Y/n gave a quick room tour of the big hotel room that has an amazing view of Tokyo with the help of her very cute boyfriend who is a great camera man. As y/n was talking she couldn’t help but look at how her toki was giving her heart eyes making y/n lose focus on what she was trying to say. “Stop looking at me like that!” He instantly smiled and continued to tease her. “Like what?”

Fans definitely screen recorded the clip and started making edits quickly. The two finished unpacking and were supposed to start getting ready to adventure outside, but y/n saw that Soob looked so comfortable laying on the bed that she just had to try the bed too. As y/n was now laying down next for Soob explaining their plans to the camera, he instantly got a wave of sleepiness with the warmth of y/n by his side. He set an alarm on his phone which he placed next to him and started to snuggle into her. Y/n was unbothered Soob hugging her or being in frame because she would just edit a sleepy yongmeong sticker over his face.

“He’s making me sleepy~” y/n snicker while watching her toki sleep with his head resting on her shoulder through her viewfinder. It didn’t take long before y/n closed her eyes and started sleeping with the camera still filming. She ended up editing a little fast forward clip of the two sleeping before it cuts to them actually walking down a little street with of course Soob being her cameraman.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

“So we’re actually at a convenience store because someone got sleepy and then got me sleepy, so we ended up sleeping for a couple hours.” Y/n explained, while also swinging their connected hands back and forth happily. “Blame it on the jet lag because I’m so used to New York time.” Soob tries to justify himself. “I guess.” Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at him making Soob laugh. The couple were a few steps away from the convenience store before Soob cuts himself off, “oh! Should we show them your fit?” He backed away to give the camera a full shot of y/n’s outfit. “No, I look like Adam Sandler right now!” Y/n whined, hiding her face with her hands slightly embarrassed by just wearing Soob’s hoodie again with loose gray sweatpants with bows running all down on sides of her legs, paired with her cute decorated crocs. She was still giving a coquette feel to the fit.

“It’s giving Adam Sandler meets coquette vibes.” Soob jokes further leaving a pout on y/n’s lips. “I’m joking. You look very cute.” Soob gently pulls y/n by her hand into a hug comforting her. Cute little gestures like that instantly boosts y/n’s mood, she could never genuinely get mad at Soob. “Let’s show the viewers your OOTD.” Y/n makes sure to just film from the neck down. “Binie has his classic white button up, wide legged pants, basic white shoes, and to top it off his brown bag. It’s giving very boyfriend vibes 101, very demure, very cutesy, very mindful.” Y/n and Soob burst out laughing, getting stares from a couple of people, but they didn’t mind.

“Let’s go get your flavored ice.” Soob wrapped his arm our y/n’s shoulder guiding her in the convenience store. “Oh my god yes! Guys I have been seeing that mainly in Korea there’s this thing- I forgot what it’s called, but it’s for people who love to eat ice. It’s peach flavored ice!” y/n was so excited making Soob smile down at her still filming. “It’s also because she would see those Korean cheerleaders do the little dance and then sit back down to eat the ice.” Soob added. Y/n pulled away from Soob and started the iconic dance the cheerleaders do, making Soob laugh more.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

To no one’s surprise y/n loved the ice and literally finished it in 5 minutes. They got a lot of snacks before heading to their next stop which is a popular tanghulu stand. It was a pretty crowded place since there’s lots of stores all around plus it was the evening, the perfect time to hang out. They weren’t the only ones thinking the same because not far from them was a female streamer obviously streaming also eating tanghulu with her friend. “Guys this is so good!” Her eyes wided while munching on the solid sugar-covered strawberry. She wasn’t paying attention that her chat was freaking out about a certain couple that was being shown in the corner. “Huh? Why is everyone freaking out? Is there a celebrity around here?” Even her friend was confused looking around.

The female streamer was now closely reading the comments until a certain comment in all caps shocked her.

#1: OMG IT'S Y/N AND SOOB!! U JUST REVEALED HIS FACE

“You just revealed-no fucking way!” The poor streamer panicked because they were also big fans of them, but she just unintentionally did something bad. She knew how private y/n is when it comes to Soob to the point where even if Soob is showing something on his phone that y/n blurs the reflection of his face on his phone in videos. The streamer quickly ended her stream abruptly, “dude I have to go up to them and tell them.” She looked at her friend with a stressed expression. “I’m sure they will understand. We’ll go together, plus you didn’t mean to show Soob’s face like that.” Her friend had a point. So she took a deep breath and began walking up to them.

As the couple was just finishing their second sweet treat of the day the poor streamer interrupted them saying their thoughts to the camera. “Um…I’m sorry to interrupt, but hi I’m Alice I’m a streamer and I was streaming literally not long ago and…”, Alice was trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know you guys were in the frame and many, many people saw Soob’s face. I’m so sorry.” Alice hated confrontation and was about to burst into tears with how their smiles instantly dropped. The couple looked at each other trying to feel words on what to say.

“Oh, um thank you for telling us instead of leaving us to find out online. Don’t feel sorry it wasn’t your fault plus we’re in public people are recording and taking pictures. Plus I know I could only do so much to try and protect Soob’s identity.” Y/n caressed Alice’s arm to try to make her feel better, clearly seeing her distressed face. “I can’t hide forever, and I again appreciate you telling us.” Alice was shocked at how they were taking this. ”And I’m assuming you're a fan since you know Soob and I.” Y/n wanted to lighten up the mood. “I am!” Alice bursted into tears. Making everyone laugh, as she got to free her emotions. “I loved you guys since the beginning and oh my god you are so handsome and she’s so pretty it’s insane! You are such a power couple and I love seeing Soob always helping you record and you always covering his face with yongmeong who is such a cute character!” Alice finally got to say what she always thought of saying if she ever got to meet them.

Both y/n and Soob’s heart was melting at the cute sight of Alice fangirling and expressing her love for them. They ended up taking pictures together and ensuring Alice that it’s okay and truly wasn’t her fault revealing Soob.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

It was trending everywhere the clip made it’s rounds and Y/n quickly addressed it before anyone would try to send hate to Alice, and Soob wanted to make a video with y/n after a couple of weeks finally actually revealing himself. He felt like it was inevitable for this to happen and it was bound to happen just not like this. With his decision to do this y/n was a bit opposed to doing this because she knows that Soob is a very private person. But she could tell Soob was already set on doing it.

“After lots of thinking I think it’s time to show the world the literal love of my life.” Y/n and Soob were certainly sitting on the floor in their living room back in New York with a yongmeong face pillow still covering Soob’s face. “Are you going to put it down?” Soob chuckled at y/n. “I’m nervous!” Y/n was more anxious than Soob. “I’ll do it then.” Soob took the face pillow and placed it on his lap. Y/n squealed seeing Soob’s face in the viewfinder.

“Hi I’m Soobin also known as Soob and Binie.” Soobin covered his face feeling shy with y/n hyping him up.

The world suddenly was more colorful, the air was fresher, and the water was bluer and clear now that Soobin revealed his face. People were happy having an actual face to the name and seeing the most visually stunning couple. Soobin even unprivated his instagram but his instagram was literally a fan page of y/n because it was girlfriend material photos of y/n, and his only post with his face was his most recent one that still has y/n in the picture. Which people found so cute that Soobin is so down bad for y/n.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Beauty and The Brawn, ft. Billlie Sheon

tags: creampie, throat fuck, cum-in-mouth, (almost) friends-to-lovers

tw: bullying, depiction of violence

word count: 8k+

author's note: This is the first fic out of 2 (or 3) before I start writing abt tripleS again. This fic shares the same "universe" (kek) as The Outing Trip, btw. (edit) I forgot to mention that Sheon is referred to as Suyeon in this fic

“Hyung”, Chanwoo, the deputy governor in the student council of the Faculty of Economics and Business, calls out to you as he enters the room, “I heard whispers in the wind about someone getting bullied at the campus”. “You did?”, you say as you look up from your phone. “Yeah, apparently it has been going on for a while too”, he continues, “I only heard about the rumor a few hours ago, sorry”. You shake your head and tell him there’s nothing to be sorry for, “it’s not like you’re the bully—wait, you’re not the bully, are you?”. Chanwoo is seemingly offended by your words, “What the fuck? We both know you’d beat me down to a pulp if I bullied anyone”. You nod in agreement; you’re known for beating up bullies and the evil sort and getting in trouble for it, which then begs the question: who dares be a bully when there’s a someone with a reputation like yours running around? “I’ll look into it. Thank you for the heads up”, you say to him as you leave for class.

-

You made it to class with 10 minutes to spare, so now you’re on your tablet to review last week’s lesson. You’re deep into it when you see a handful of girls and guys enter the classroom in the corner of your eyes. “Hey, what do we do about Suyeon-ie? She hasn’t started working on our assignments yet”, one of the girls say. “This bitch, man, I swear to God”, a guy says, “how can someone be so smart and idiotic at the same time? We’ll talk to her again after this”. Your concentration breaks after hearing those words. “Bitch, huh? Idiotic, too? Some interesting choice of words there, bud”, you think to yourself. You take a good look at them and burn their faces into your memory for future reference before turning your attention back to your tablet.

“Good afternoon, everybody”, Professor Bae says as she enters the packed classroom, “beautiful day today, right?”. She then sets her bag on the desk and connects her laptop to the projector. “Okay, before we start today’s class, does anyone have any questions about the previous one?”, she says as she looks around the room before pointing to someone who has their hand up, “oh, you”. The girl looks hesitant and nervous to ask her question, and you wonder if she’s intimidated by Professor Bae (which makes sense; she looks intimidating sometimes). “Thank you for the question, miss”, the professor says before starting the train of explanation. As you’re listening to her, you hear whispers from the bunch behind you and catch someone say “bitch” again but can’t make out the rest of the sentence, and it bothers your focus once again. “I need to get to the bottom of this soon”, you say in your head.

-

“That is all for today, everyone. Thank you for coming and see you next week for the quiz”, Professor Bae wraps up the class. You see one student after another start leaving the classroom, but you stay in your seat and wait until everyone clears out. “Excuse me, professor”, you come up to her, “may I ask you a question?”. “Sure, how can I help you?”, the professor says. “Have you heard rumors about someone getting bullied on campus, madam?”, you ask. She exhales deeply, “I can see in your eyes that you want to throw punches already”. “Madam, please”, you push her, making her take a deep breath. “Fine; short answer is yes, I have—I know the victim, in fact”, she says.

You’re perplexed, “you do, madam?”. She replies to you with a nod, “remember the girl who raised her hand at the start of the class? That’s the victim, a freshman named Kim Suyeon”. “So that was Suyeon, huh?”, you think to yourself, “what about the perpetrators, professor?”. Professor Bae shakes her head, “I’ve asked before, but she wouldn’t tell me, son”. “Respectfully, madam, I think she needs more closure and assurance that she’ll be safe before she feels comfortable enough to speak up”, you say to her. The professor nods and sighs, “I agree, and I guess I can’t offer her that”.

You say your thanks and bow to her before leaving, and that’s when she calls out to you again; “governor”, she says, “I do not condone violence on campus”. You blink your eyes in confusion, “pardon?”. “I repeat, I do not condone violence on campus grounds”, Professor Bae says with a wink and a smile at the end. The way she winks and emphasizes the last three words gives you some idea; “I will keep that in mind, professor. Have a good day, madam”, you say with a bow before you leave the classroom. “You have a good heart, Shin Jungwoo. I just wish you wouldn’t resort to violence like it was the only thing you knew, but you do you, son—I got your back”, Professor Bae says when she sees you leave.

You find Chanwoo’s contact on your phone and text him to ask if he’s in class, and he immediately calls you. “Hyung, what’s up? Found anything yet?”, he asks. “Kind of, and now I need your help. Find out what you can about a freshman named Kim Suyeon”, you say to him. “Kim Suyeon, huh? Alright, I’ll get back to you soon”, Chanwoo says, “what’s your plan when we find out who the bullies are?”. “We’ll try talking to them first before letting the fists fly”, you say, calm but resolute, “talk to you soon, Chanwoo-yah. Thanks for your help”. Chanwoo is one of the few people who doesn’t approve of violence but doesn’t shy away from it should it be needed—he’s helped you fight someone before, actually.

-

It’s been a few days since you found out the name of the victim and sent Chanwoo on a recon mission. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket as you’re walking to the cafeteria, so you pull it out and see that there’s an email from Professor Bae: “My office—now”, it says. You turn around and run in the other direction towards Professor Bae’s office as fast as you can, putting your cardio training to good use.

You press the bell to her room while panting like you were chased by an angry German Shepherd. The door buzzes as it unlocks, and you enter right away. “Good—hah—good afternoon, madam”, you say with heavy pants. The professor looks at you with a gentle smile, “good afternoon to you as well, governor”. You compose yourself and see that someone else is in the room, so Professor Bae introduces you to this person. “Governor, this is Kim Suyeon. Suyeon-ah, this is the governor of the Faculty of Economics and Business, Shin Jungwoo”, she says. “Kim Suyeon? That Kim Suyeon?”, you think to yourself, and that is when you see Suyeon turn to you. “Good afternoon, sunbaenim. We’ve met before, haven’t we? Nice to meet you again”, she says with a smile and red eyes; “she must’ve just finished crying”, you think.

“I’ve managed to convince her to open up to me”, Professor Bae informs, “you said she needed more closure and assurance, right? Well, I’m doing that right now”. You bend forward with your hands on your knees, “and-and—fuck, I’m tired—and how are you doing that, if I may ask?”. “I’m putting her under your watch, and I know you’ll never let harm come her way when she’s with you”, she pats you on the back, “what’s wrong with you? I thought you exercise often”. “It was the adrenaline, madam”, you say, “your short email made me nervous so I ran as fast as I could—I’m sorry for the profanity, by the way”. Professor Bae laughs, “it’s whatever, son. Now, get out of my office and start getting to know each other better, ‘kay?”.

You show her a soft smile and reach your hand out, “may I, miss?”. She timidly holds your hand and stands up, “yes, sunbaenim”. You lead her out of the office and towards the cafeteria. “Can I call you by your name?”, you ask her on the way. “Sure”, she says, “my name is Kim Suyeon”. You giggle softly, “nice to meet you, Suyeon-ah. My name is Shin Jungwoo—I’m sure the professor has told you about me”. As you keep walking, you feel a tug on your arm. “Sun-sunbaenim”, she says nervously, “can I call you by anything other than that?”. “Yeah, of course; call me oppa, okay? I’m 99% sure I’m older than you”, you say, attempting to make a friendly joke. A simple “okay” said in a seemingly low-spirited tone is her answer, and you make it your goal to make her feel better by the end of the day.

You buy a large bowl of tteokbokki and fried chicken to share with Suyeon along with a couple of soft drinks. You hand her some chopsticks and encourage her to eat first. “I-I’m not too hungry, oppa”, she says—timing can’t be more perfect, as you hear a faint growl from her stomach as soon as she says that. You pick up a piece of chicken and guide it to her lips with a smile, “please, have a bite; do it for me”. She slowly parts her lips and puts the piece of chicken into her mouth. She looks down at the table as she chews, and you suddenly see a tear escape her eyes. Your eyes widen in shock, and you move to sit next to her before pulling her to lean against your shoulder. “Woah, woah, are you okay?”, you ask in panic. “You-you’re so kind, a-and I’m not sure if I deserve it”, she sniffles, “pe-people have been really cruel to me and-and I’m starting to think maybe I deserve it, oppa”.

You’ve taken punches in the face before, but her words hurt way, way more than even the worst punch. “My fucking God, bullying really disrupts the victim’s psyche, huh?”, you think to yourself―you’ve never really interacted with the victims and never had the chance to see it from their perspective, as you’re usually busy throwing punches with the bullies instead. The way she cries when shown such simple gesture of kindness makes it clear for you that she has longed for it for an extended period, and it strengthens your heart’s resolve to continue your fight against bullying, both physically and mentally.

“Sweetheart, sweetheart”, you whisper softly, “it’s okay; no one can hurt you when I’m here”. Fate is doing its best to surprise you today, as you see the group of people who referred to Suyeon as a “bitch” walking in front of you. You glare at each of them, and they stop in their tracks when they see you and Suyeon being so close to each other. “Oppa, please, I’m scared”, Suyeon wails and hugs your arm tightly in tears. “Wait here, okay, sweetie?”, you whisper to her before leaving the table to confront them. It takes everything in you to not just whack these brats right here, right now; “tell me your names and classes”, you say, your voice laced with anger. The boys tell you their names—Lee Taewon and Kim Dojoon, both freshmen—while the girls are too scared to say anything. “Do you know who I am?”, you ask again. “I don’t give a fuck who you are; you’re just some chump who likes acting tough in front of his bimbo”, Taewon says. “Oi”, one of the girls says almost like a whisper, “that’s the governor, Shin Jungwoo”. “I don’t fucking care”, Taewon continues, “I’ll fuck him up just the same”. “Is that right?”, you say, “meet me in the alley behind Super Sandwich in 30 minutes—don’t run”.

You turn around to sit at the table again, and that’s when you hear Suyeon scream from the top of her lungs—one of them must be trying to take a cheap shot. You turn around just in time to react and strike back, making Taewon tumble from it. “You fucking bitch, save it for later”, you say. Dojoon is just standing there in silence; “come get your boy and get the fuck out of my sight”, you say to him. Dojoon rushes to Taewon and drags him away, so you head back to your table again to tend to Suyeon. She now looks afraid of you, as she tries to put some distance between you and herself.

“Hey, hey, I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetie”, you say in a calm voice with your palms open as a sign of non-aggression. “I-I’ve heard that you beat people up often”, she says. “Only the bad ones, sweetie—like those bullies”, you tell her. While she knows that you don’t shy away from violence, she doesn’t know that you can toggle your anger on and off like a lamp, and the cluelessness scares her shitless. You decide to text Chanwoo and tell him their names and your “appointment” while you wait until Suyeon calms down; “you want me to come with you?”, he replies. “No, I need you to wait for me in the council’s space and notify Professor Bae about this”, you tell him.

You put the lid over the bowl and ask Suyeon to follow you to the council’s space. When you arrive, you see that Chanwoo is already there waiting for you to come. “Hyung, can you, like, tell me a summary or something?”, he says. You nod, “Son Chanwoo, this is Kim Suyeon. Suyeon-ah, this is Chanwoo; he’s the deputy governor in the council—that’s enough of a summary, I think”. “So, this is her, huh?”, Chanwoo grabs an empty chair and sets it next to him, “please have a seat, Suyeon-ah—I won’t hurt you, I promise”. Suyeon hesitantly approaches him and takes a seat, “n-nice to meet you, sunbaenim”. You take a knee in front of Suyeon and open the bowl again, “Sweetheart, I have a favor to ask: I want you to eat as much as you can while I take care of those rascals. Can you do that, please?”. “Yes, oppa; I will eat as much as I can while you take care of those rascals”, she says with a smile, and you see in her eyes the hopefulness for all these bad things to end. “Keep her safe for me, man. I’ll see you guys in a bit”, you give Chanwoo a fist bump before leaving the room and head to the appointment spot.

-

It's empty when you arrive there, so you decide to wait it out and see if this guy is really about that or not. You’ve been waiting for 20 minutes when Taewon finally arrives, all by his lonesome. “Where are your friends?”, you ask him. “I don’t need them”, he shrugs, “I’ll take you myself”. You know that Taewon wants the smoke, but you can’t find it in you the same fury you’ve used to fuel the fire in your heart—you’d rather feed Suyeon some tteokbokki right now than fight this guy. “Man, I just want to be with Suyeon-ie­ right now”, you think to yourself. You see Taewon standing still like a dummy, so you taunt him, hoping that getting him riled up will get you riled up as well. “I don’t have all day, you bastard; are we doing this or nah?”, you say to him.

He rushes to you huffing and puffing and hits you right in the cheek. You shrug it off and mock him more, “all that shit talk earlier only for you to hit me like that? You’re wasting my time, you little shit”. He releases a flurry of punches, hitting you on different spots like your cheek, your stomach, and your chest, and it’s starting to hurt now. “There you go, my boy—my turn now”, you say before your right fist lands right on his chin, knocking the wind out of his body and forcing him to tumble backwards. “Focus up, my turn isn’t over yet”, you say as you ready your left to strike. The cheeky bastard thinks it is his turn again, as he tries to surprise you with a punch out of nowhere. Adrenaline has come to your aid and brings rage with it, and you use it right away to dodge and storm him with punches of your own, making him fall flat on the pavement. You press your foot on Taewon’s neck and tell him your demand; “leave Suyeon-ie alone—is that clear?”, you say to him sternly but calmly.

You don’t care if he has anything else to say and just walk away, and you’re met with Dojoon who apparently has been hiding around the corner this whole time. “Oh, there you are”, you say to him, “you want some too or what?”. Dojoon looks at you in fear before running away. “You’re not gonna help your boy?”, you yell at him but get no response, “guess I will then”. You rush to Super Sandwich and buy a bottle of water for Taewon and bring it to him.

“Hello again, brat”, you pull him up to his feet and lean him against the wall, “here, have some water”. You open the bottle for Taewon and hand it to him, and he finishes it within seconds; “thirsty much?”, you say to him. “I’m-I’m sorry”, he says in tears, “I never meant to hurt her like that”. You roll your eyes, “my fucking God, stop it with the crocodile tears”. “You don’t understand, man. I never hated Suyeon-ie”, he wails, "I-I liked her as a friend, and I thought about shooting my shot—I never meant it to end up like this”. You’re perplexed by his little confession, “you called her a bimbo and talked shit to me in front of her, you asshole, and now you want to say that you’ve liked her all along? You missed me with that bullshit”. Taewon grabs your wrist as you walk away, “promise me that you’ll take care of her, hyung”. Your head might be flooded with anger, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice when he said that last sentence, so you give him a nod and leave to check on Suyeon.

-

You knock on the door of the council’s space and Chanwoo opens it for you. “Welcome back, hyung”, he says as he hugs you, “so, how was it?”. You pull away from the hug and pat him on the back, “it was fine; he understood his mistake and is regretful”. You take a knee in front of Suyeon again and take her hands in yours. “Hi, sweetie. How are we feeling?”, you ask her. “W-what is that on your face, oppa?”, she says, as fear clouds her mind. You smile and tell her that it’s nothing, but she doesn’t think so; “I-I don’t want people to get hurt because of me”, she says, tears bursting out of her eyes, “just-just let me get hurt because of me—they’re after me anyway”. You take off her glasses and lifts her chin, “no one deserves to get hurt like you have, sweetheart, and they’ve agreed to stay away from you and not hurt you again”. She jumps off her chair and hugs you. “I’m-I’m sorry, oppa. I should’ve stood up for myself”, she says, “you wouldn’t have got hurt if I had”. You peck the top of her head, “I’m not hurt, Suyeon­-ah, trust me. I’m fine and so is Chanwoo—we’re here for you, sweetie”.

Suyeon pulls away from the hug and wipes her tears. “Can I invite you two to come over for dinner?”, she asks. “I’m sorry, but I already have plans with my girlfriend—thanks for the invite, Suyeon-ah”, Chanwoo declines, “I’m sure Jungwoo-hyung is down for dinner, though”. You chuckle, “yes, I’m down for dinner”. “Great!”, Suyeon exclaims, “we need to go now, oppa!”.

-

Suyeon enters the passcode of her apartment and lets you in. Your heart sinks to the bottom of the trench when you see the scattered clothes and dirty dishes all over the place. “I’m sorry”, she says timidly, “I haven’t had time to clean up. I’ve been busy doing everyone’s assignments, you see”. You feel tears flowing down your cheeks as you assess the situation further. “My God, they’ve been ruthless, haven’t they?”, you say weakly as you wipe your tears. “It’s okay, oppa. I’m used to it right now”, she utters, and her words hurt you even more. You hug her tightly, “it’s over, Suyeon-ah. You won’t have to do this ever again, I promise. I’ll help you sort these things out, okay?”.

You let her go and sit down in front of the pile of clothes on her couch. You take a T-shirt from the pile and fold it neatly before taking another and doing the same. “Suyeon-ah, there’s a shirt here, do you have a hanger?”, you say to her, and instead of hearing a reply, you hear a sob instead. You look in her direction and see that she’s crying again; “what do you want from me, oppa? What’s your motive? What’s behind your nice guy façade, huh? You’re gonna make me do your assignments too, aren’t you? Answer me, oppa—tell me I’m wrong”. “I’m sorry but you are wrong”, you stand up and approach her, “I’m not going to make you do my assignments or whatever. I just want to help—would you let me help?”. She nods in agreement, so you ask her one more time if she has hangers, “ye-yes, I have a few. I’ll get it for you”.

You sit back down and put the shirt to the side for later so you can fold other stuff. “Here’s some hangers, oppa”, Suyeon says as she walks over to you. You look at her, “thank— “; your words are cut off by a peck on the lips from Suyeon, and the both of you blush at the same time. “Thank you, sweetheart”, you say, “the-the hangers, please”. She covers her face after handing them to you, and you focus back on the pile in front of you, which is gradually getting smaller. “Hey, underwear—oh, sorry”, you say as you see some bras and panties laying in front of you. You fold the bras in half and hand them to Suyeon along with some hung shirts, and she can’t look you in the eyes now.

“Time to do these dishes now”, you say as you leave the now clear couch. Suyeon tries to push you away from the sink with a grunt, but her small arms don’t have enough strength to move you. “Have a seat, please. I’ll take care of this”, you say to her, and she replies with a simple “okay” and take a seat at the dining table. “Oppa”, she calls out, “why did you call me ‘sweetheart’ earlier?”. “I just wanted to be clear that I wasn’t going to harm you in any shape or form. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable”, you say as you try to clean off a persistent stain on a plate. “It’s okay, oppa. You can call me anything you want—just don’t say anything mean, please. It hurts, you know, especially if you were to say it”, she says. “I know, sweetheart—I know”, you look at her with a smile.

-

Now that all the dishes have been cleaned and the pile cleared from the couch, you lie on it so that you can catch your breath. “That was tiring”, you comment, “I hope I did it well”. Suyeon walks to the drying rack to inspect your work, “they’re spotless, oppa. I’ve never washed them this well before”. “Great to hear, but I’m hungry now”, you say as you show her a thumbs-up. “Oh, um, I only have instant stuff, oppa”, she shyly admits, “I’m sorry, I know I invited you over for dinner, but I don’t have much right now”. “I’m sure instant stuff will still taste good if you’re the one making it”, you try to lift her spirits, “I’ll take you on a dinner date one day if that’s okay”. You take a peek at the cupboard she’s opening and see that she only has 2 packs of instant noodles left; “she doesn’t even have time to stock up on food—those bastards, I swear to God”, you say in your head.

She takes those two packs and looks at them sadly. “Are you okay, sweetie?”, you ask. “The-these are my last ones, oppa”, she says with a sorrowful voice, “I won’t have food if we use this”. You close your eyes in pain before offering her an idea, “you know what? Let’s eat outside and get groceries after—I’ll pay, don’t worry”. “You’re spoiling me, oppa”, she says, “first it was the mess and now this”. You shake your head, “it’s fine, sweetie. I’m glad I get to do these things for you”. You then take her hand and leave the apartment so that you can get dinner somewhere.

You take Suyeon to a burger shop near the campus which you heard is owned by the parents of a freshman. You head straight to the register to order; “good evening, can I have a double cheeseburger and fries, please?”. “Yes, you can. Anything else?”, the lady says, so you turn to Suyeon and ask her what she’d like to have, and she timidly replies that she wants the same thing you’re having. “Alright, please have a seat. Food is coming out in 10 minutes”, the lady says again.

You turn around to find an empty table, and that’s when you see another governor from the university. “Kim Yooyeon!”, you excitedly exclaim as you walk up to her with Suyeon behind you. You give her a high five and ask her if she’s alone. “Yeah, I am. My friends are on Jung Jisung’s trip”, she says before shoving a piece of fry into her mouth. You feel a tug on your shirt, and you’re promptly reminded that you’re not alone. “Ah, almost forgot—Yooyeon-ah, this is Kim Suyeon; she’s one of ours. Suyeon-ah, this is Yooyeon from the Faculty of Science—she’s a governor just like me, by the way”, you introduce them to each other. They both exchange greetings and you decide to sit at the table next to Yooyeon’s.

“Oppa, I’m going to the toilet”, Suyeon says, and you nod in response. You and Yooyeon keep your eyes on her until she disappears around the corner. “What’s her story?”, Yooyeon asks, “how did you find her?”. You sigh, “she was bullied, Yooyeon-ah, and I might or might not have punched her bully”. Yooyeon rubs her forehead in stress, “you really need to stop beating people up—we can’t keep defending you, you know”. You shake your head, “Respectfully, Governor, you have no idea what being a victim of bullying has made of her”. “May I ask?”, she prods. You list the things you saw earlier today: the messy pile of clothes on the couch, dirty dishes from God-knows-when, and the empty pantry. “She was so busy doing other people’s shit that she didn’t even have a second to think about herself—I’m taking her to get groceries after this, by the way”, you end your explanation. Yooyeon nods, and you’d like to think that she understands the severity of the situation.

Suyeon returns just in time, as the food is brought to you as she’s about to sit down. “Alright, I’m going to leave now. Good evening, guys. See you soon”, Yooyeon says. You give her a fist bump, “see you soon, Yooyeon-ah. Tell Jisung-ie I said—oh, speak of the devil”. Jisung is calling you; “I gotta take this, sweetie”, you say to Suyeon and head outside.

“Good evening, this is Shin Jungwoo”, you say. ”Good evening to you as well, this is Jung Jisung”, Jisung says over the phone, “where are you, man?”. “I’m at a burger shop with someone—Yooyeon-ie just left, by the way”, you tell him, “can I help you, president?”. “You know I hate it when you call me that, right? Anyway, what’s this rumor I heard about bullying?”, he asks. “Yeah, a group of freshmen had bullied a fellow freshman and forced her to do their assignments, even going as far as referring to her with derogatory terms, and the victim has been having it rough because of it—the victim is with me right now, in fact”, you give him a summary. “The rumor also told me that you’ve fought the bully as well”, you hear Jisung sigh over the phone, “we can’t keep defending you, man. Promise me this is the last time”. “I’ll ask Yooyeon-ie to tell you what I’ve— “, you’re cut off by a girl’s voice from Jisung’s side of the call. “Oppa! Oppa, are you okay? Are you hurt? You need to stop fighting people, seriously”, the girl says. “Sorry, who is this?”, you ask. “This is Nakyoung-ie, oppa. Xinyu-unnie is also here with us, by the way”. “Oh, hi, you two—you know what? We’ll talk about this again when you guys get back, I’ll bring Suyeon-ie as well”, you tell them. “Suyeon-ie? Is that the victim’s name?”, Nakyoung asks. “Yes, and I’m taking her to dinner and then a grocery run later”, you glance into the restaurant and see that Suyeon is looking at you, “I gotta go. Talk to you guys soon, okay? Good evening”.

You hang up the call and head back to your table. “Sorry, sweetheart. The president just called”, you explain to her, “are we ready to go or?”. She reaches her arms out, “carry me, oppa”. “Oh, um, sure”, you say, “haven’t lifted weights in a while but I should be okay”. Suyeon sulks, “I-I’m not that heavy, oppa, I promise”. You show her a soft smile before carrying her on your back, “I know, sweetheart. Come, let’s go to the supermarket”.

-

You drop her off in front of the supermarket and lift her chin to look at you. “Sweetheart, listen to me: I want you to get all the things you need and want without worrying about how much they are. Can you do that, please?”. “Yes, oppa”, she says with a gleeful and precious smile, “let’s goooo!”. She runs inside and grabs a trolley before sprinting towards the vegetable and fruit section. You follow her as she grabs some bok choys, half a rock melon, half a watermelon, and a few different types of mushrooms. She turns to you just before she reaches the freezer, “can-can we get some sausages, please, oppa? I, uh, I’ve been wanting to eat sausages for a while”. “Of course we can, sweetie. Which type do you like?”, you ask. “The-the one with cheese in it, up there”, she shyly points to the top rack of the wall freezer. You get on your tippy toes and grab a pack, “is one pack enough?”. “Ye-yes, I’ll make sure to not eat it in one sitting”, she says.

She then takes a lap around the supermarket, visiting each aisle and getting at least 1 item from every rack: soap, shampoo, pads, skincare, instant noodles, dried pasta, cheese, ketchup, hot sauce, kimchi, ground beef, chicken thi—“oppa”, she calls out to you as you’re inspecting her trolley, “I’m sorry”. “Excuse me?”, you say, unsure of what she’s sorry for. She looks down in timidity and points at the trolley full of stuff, “y-you said I could buy whatever I need and want, s-so I did”. “Oh”, you say, finally catching on to what she was sorry for, “it’s fine, I swear. It physically hurt me to see your empty pantry so I’m glad that I can help you fill it—come, let’s pay for these things and go home”. You push the trolley for Suyeon, and she wraps an arm around yours as you walk to the cashier. Suyeon covers her eyes as the cashier scans each item, probably feeling embarrassed of how many things she’s put in there. “That will be ₩48.600, sir”, the cashier says, and you hand him your card to pay. You notice that Suyeon is looking down at her shoes, so you grab her chin and turn her face towards you. “It’s okay”, you mouth to her with a smile, and Suyeon nods in response.

-

You and Suyeon carry one box each, as you make your way back to her apartment. Suyeon’s door makes a beep with every number she presses, until it makes a buzzing sound and unlocks. “Welcome back, oppa. Oh my God, my apartment is squeaky clean. I wonder who cleaned it”, she says with a dramatic voice. You laugh hearing her say that, “yeah, I wonder who did that? Must be someone important to you”. Both of you put down the boxes on the dining table, and Suyeon turns to you. “You are important to me, oppa”, she says before pulling you into a kiss. You try to break the kiss, but Suyeon chases you and kisses you harder.

“Oppa”, she says after finally breaking the kiss, “thank you for being here. You have no idea how thankful I am”. You muster up the bravery to confess to her, “I, um, I think I like you—I understand that this is not the time for that yet, but—”. Suyeon interrupts you by placing a finger on your lips. “If this isn’t the time, then I don’t know when is. I like you too, oppa”, she says with a smile. You return her smile with one of tenderness and promise her that you’ll protect her from harm in any shape or form; “I can’t stand seeing you be so sad, sweetheart. I want to draw smiles and laughs on your face”. Her eyes are glassy from unreleased tears, “I’ve been smiling and laughing a lot today, oppa. I’d say you’re doing a great job on your first day of being mine”. You blink rapidly in confusion, “do you want to run that by me again?”. “Ah, I should’ve asked first”, she slaps her forehead, “will you be my boyfriend, oppa?”. You chuckle, “will you be my girlfriend, Suyeon-ah?”. “Only if you promise to be my boyfriend and call me sweetheart all the time”, she says as the dam in her eyes finally breaks.

Love confessions usually end with a kiss and sex (at least that’s what they show on TV), but yours ends with both parties crying while hugging tightly. “Suyeon-ie must be tired of crying”, you think to yourself. You break the hug and wipe the tears off her cheek. “I love you, baby, but seeing you cry pains my heart”, you say to her. “If I get to be this happy all the time, I’ll cry until my eyes are dry, oppa—that’s a good trade in my opinion, and I’m sure you understand”, she utters, her forehead pressed against your chest.

Your roaming eyes eventually land on the boxes full of groceries, and you want to use them as an excuse so you can go up for air. “Baby, we need to put those things where they belong. Let’s continue this later, okay?”, you persuade her. Suyeon unwraps her arms ever so slowly, “but how can I express my love if we’re not touching, oppa?”. You take her hand and place it on your chest, “your love is locked tight here, honey. I’ll never forget your love”. “That’s sweet”, she comments, “okay, let’s unpack these bitches”. “Whoa, whoa, pause”, you say, “bitches? Seriously?”. Your question shorts her brain, “o-oh, uh, I meant to say boxes—sorry, oppa”. “Let’s not use such malicious term again, okay, baby?”, you peck her on the forehead after stating your request.

“Oppa, can we listen to some music?”, she asks as she fishes out some pads from the box. You chuckle, “I’m going to judge your music taste, though”. Suyeon scoffs in response, “oh, please, I know my stuff”. She runs to her phone, and you instantly hear a familiar melody playing over the speakers under her TV. “Oh, God, not this song again”, you say to yourself.

Be my only one

이렇게 부르고 싶은 이름 내 곁에 (The name I want to call you by)

손을 잡고서 같이 걸어요 (Let’s hold hands and walk along)

비가 오는 밤에도, 외로웠던 낮에도 (On rainy nights, or on lonely daytimes)

그대 환한 빛깔을 내게 가득 칠해줘요 (Please color me with your shiny light)

내가 더 잘할게요, 이렇게 같이 있어준다면 (I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this)

You drop what you’re doing and turn to Suyeon, who is staring at her phone blankly. “Are you o—“, Suyeon interrupts your question with one of her own, “do you know how long I’ve wished I had someone by my side, oppa? Someone who doesn’t hate me but instead loves me, or wishes me nothing but the best, or-or-or—God fucking damn it, where have you been all this time, oppa? Where were you when I spent all night crying because I was so fucking tired of doing these dumbasses’ shit? Where were you when they surrounded me and called me a useless fucking bitch because I wouldn’t give them my notes? Where-where were you when Naeun-ie slapped me after class? Where on earth were you, oppa? Why weren’t you protecting me?”. Suyeon drops to her knees and starts breaking down in tears as she recounts the terrible memories and the pain they have caused.

You rush to Suyeon and hug her, offering the comfort that she desperately needs at the moment. “I’m so sorry, baby; I’m sorry I wasn’t by your side when you needed it most, but I’m here right now—I’m here for you”, you say while trying your hardest to stay solid for Suyeon. You let Suyeon cry to her heart’s content in your arms while you whisper to her ear things such as “it’s okay”, “they can’t hurt you anymore”, and “I’m here for you”. Deep inside, you promise that you’ll devote yourself to helping victims of bullying instead of wasting time fighting the bad guys. “This is my last time, Jisung-ah—I promise”, you say in your head.

“Jungwoo-oppa”, Suyeon says with trembling voice, “I know I’m pitiful and all that, but please don’t say you love me because of pity—I want to be loved with pure intentions, oppa”. “Pity led me to fighting that asshole, but it was my heart that led me to falling for you”, you say to her. “Respectfully, sweetheart, I think you’re beautiful and attractive”, you double down on the confession from earlier. Suyeon pushes you away, her mouth is open in delight and surprise, “aww really? You think I’m beautiful, oppa? You’re not lying, are you?”. You shake your head, “I think you’re beautiful, baby—again, respectfully”. Suyeon wipes her tears and chuckles, “you can stop saying respectfully, oppa. I don’t find your words to be offensive or demeaning—in fact, I like hearing you say that I’m beautiful, honey”. You grin widely, “baby, can you keep calling me that? It makes me, um, feel loved—you don’t have to, though; you can call me oppa if you want”. “You’re my boyfriend, honey, not someone who’s simply older than me”, she laughs, “I’ll use other pet names if you don’t mind”.

You pull her up to her feet so that you can continue unpacking the boxes, but apparently Suyeon has a different idea: “I want to have sex, oppa. I want to consummate our relationship”. You pat your pockets and feel that they’re empty, “I don’t have condoms with me, honey”. She shrugs, “I don’t see the problem. I’ve been taking pills anyway—look at me, I’ve been taking pills even though I was single; kinda sad, don’t you think?”. “Can I ask where you want to have sex at?”, you ask her. She puts on a confused face, “why, in bed, of course—what kind of question is that, oppa? I’m not some cheap girl who has sex anywhere, you know”.

You apologize for the dumb question and carry her to the bedroom as she wishes. “Take off your clothes, oppa; I want to watch”, she requests. You set her dead center on the bed (it’s a twin bed) and stand in the empty space in her bedroom. She drops her jaw in surprise when she sees your muscles; “my goodness, no wonder those brats didn’t stand a chance against you—that chocolate abs are hot, by the way”. “You can thank Jung Jisung for that; he was the one who convinced me to get fit”, you tell her as you take off your jeans, revealing the bulged boxers. Suyeon bites her fingers in nervousness as her eyes are locked on your crotch. “Oh my fucking God”, she gasps, “there’s no way you’re that big—anyway, my turn now”.

Suyeon stands in front of you and pull her T-shirt over her head, showing you her perfect-sized tits. She slaps your hand away when you try touching her tits, telling you to be patient. She proceeds to pull down her jeans and panties, and you see that her pussy is clean shaven, looking mega tempting. “Now I can confidently say that I shaved for my boyfriend”, she says, “what do we do now, my dear boyfriend?”.

You lie down on Suyeon’s bed and tell her to sit on your face, and she praises you for “such a brilliant idea”. She sets her thighs on both sides of your face, her pussy hanging low above your mouth. You pull her down by her thighs and instantly start working on her pussy with your mouth and tongue. Suyeon is moaning and jerking around as you keep stimulating her; “baby, that’s so good”, she says. One particular lick from you causes her to jolt and scream, so you use your big hands to hold her down, “stop moving around, will you?”. “I-I’m sorry—God, I’m so close already”, she announces that she’s almost there, so you pick up your pace and keep sucking and licking until her valves break open.

“I’M CUMMING!”, she shrieks, drenching your face in her juice as she tumbles backwards on your body. She weakly rolls over onto the bed, “I haven’t cummed that hard in so long. Thank you, baby”. “Don’t thank me yet; we’re far from done”, you tell her. “Oppa, I want to suck your cock but I don’t have the energy to get up. I’ll just lie down and have you do the work”, she says.

You respond by getting off the bed and pull Suyeon towards you until her head hangs off the edge, aiming to fuck her throat. As soon as Suyeon opens her mouth, you plunge into it right away. You patiently move your cock forwards and backwards in her mouth to warm her up. You groan in bliss when you feel Suyeon’s tongue lapping the underside of your cock, “fuck, that’s a good girl”. You can’t see her face since your cock is blocking the view, but you’d like to think she gave you a wink for the compliment.

You want to turn it up a notch as your patience has evaporated away but you don’t want to go too hard just yet, so you tell her about your intention by pushing deep past her mouth and into her throat. “You don’t gag? That’s a good girl”, you repeat the praise from earlier. As if seeing the green light, you keep fucking her mouth deep but slowly until you think that she’s ready to take a proper throat fuck. The way your cock makes her throat bulge is very arousing, “my cock is in your throat, love”. She taps your thighs repeatedly after a few thrusts, so you pull out to see if she wants to have a break. “I want your cum in my stomach, oppa—you know what to do, right?”, she tells you.

You tell her that you want to give her a throat fuck and Suyeon nods in agreement, so you go back in her mouth and go deep right away. “I hope you’re ready”, you say to her. You plant your hands on the bed and start fucking mouth fast like it was her pussy, but you still hear no gag; “very impressive, baby”, you think to yourself. You keep fucking her and bulging her throat and you wish you could keep going until the sun rises again, but orgasm is already at the door. So, you fuck her with the last drops of fuel you have in your cock and stuff your cock into her throat before blowing your first load, sending it right into her stomach.

After you’ve released all the cum you have, you retreat from her wet mouth, and you hear her gasp sharply. “I thought I was going to die, oppa”, she says, “that was the first time I’ve had my throat fucked like that”. “Sorry, I know this is your private matter, but can I ask how many guys you have had sex with?”, you ask. “You’re my second, babe”, she says, “but believe me when I say that I wish you had been my first, because that guy was an asshole—his dick didn’t compare to yours, by the way. What about you? How many girls have been lucky to have your cock?”. “One girl before you, sorry”, you scratch the back of your head apologetically. “Eh, just one, that’s fine. I would cry if you said you’ve had a dozen”, she says before repositioning herself on the bed. She then eyes your cock that is still hard and erect and points at it, “I believe we aren’t done yet”. You backtrack to her previous comment before joining her in bed, “I hadn’t been attractive at all until I met Jung Jisung; there was no way I could’ve had a dozen girls before you, love”.

“That’s enough talk, oppa. Come here and make love to me, please”, she says. You join her in bed and get on top, “you’re so pretty, baby”. She blushes hearing you say it, “thank you for being so kind all the time, oppa. I-I love you”. You smile as you aim your cock at her entrance, “I’ll show you how much I love you”. You start moving forward into Suyeon’s warm and tight pussy, earning a soft moan from her. “You’re so tight, love”, you comment, basking in the sensation. “Ah, hah—only for you, oppa—fu-fuck, so big”, she replies. Hearing her praise your size fuels the fire of lust in your head and with it, you pick up the pace and fuck her faster, making her moan and scream in the process.

You keep up the tempo until you hear an oddly loud scream from her; “I’M CUMMING AGAIN—FUCK!”. You stop your pumps and pray to God that her room is somewhat soundproofed, because it’d be very awkward if her neighbor called the police on you for this. She twists and turns as the high of orgasm shorts her body and mind, and you patiently wait without pulling out, taking the time to sort out your breaths. “Oppa, oppa”, she calls out with her eyes closed, “you’re so good to me—so fucking good”. “You’re so good too, love; you’re so fucking tight”, you praise her. “I’m just me, oppa; it’s you that’s just so big”, she pulls you down towards her, “can I have your cum again?”. You nod and start fucking her again while maintaining the hugging position.

“I’m so close, love. Where do you want it?”, you ask her. “Ah, ah, hah—w-which part of I’ve been taking pills d-did—oh, fuck me—did you not un-derstand, oppa?”, she says. You release your cum into her pussy with a deep groan, and the warmth of your cum makes her let out a long moan. “No, stay”, she says when you try to pull out, “you would’ve made me pregnant if I wasn’t on pills”. “It—hah, God—it would be reckless to make you pregnant”, you reply. “Don’t worry, oppa; I’ll make sure I don’t lose my perfect physique during pregnancy”, she says with a giggle. You chuckle, “maybe we’ll get you pregnant one day, but that day isn’t today, love”.

You retreat from her pussy the moment she unwraps her legs from around your waist, and your cum instantly leaks out onto the bed. “Glad it’s still as thick; I would hate to disappoint”, you say as you inspect the result of your work. “Can I have a taste, oppa? You sent that first straight to my belly and I couldn’t taste it”, Suyeon says. You slather your index finger with your cum and bring it to her mouth; “mm, salty. I like it”, she comments.

-

“Oppa, I love you”, she says, seemingly out of nowhere during the cuddle, “stay with me, okay?”. You peck the top of her head, “I’ll stay with you and protect you until you’re sick of me, love”. She laughs out loud, “how can I be sick of you, oppa? You’re kind, you’re handsome, and you have a big cock; that’s everything a girl ever wants from her partner—promise me to not be violent again, though. As much as I think Lee Taewon deserved it, I hated that you resorted to that”. You sigh as you think about the memory from earlier, “I’m sorry that you had to see that, love. I promise I’ll work on it, okay? Let’s get some sleep now”.

Instead of closing her eyes to go to bed, Suyeon jumps off the bed and makes to leave the bedroom instead, “no, I need to study. Thanks for the sex, oppa, it’ll help me focus”. You follow her out of the bedroom and see that she’s already sitting at the dining table with a laptop in front of her, “you’re not going to put anything on?”. “No, I want some more after this”, she says with a wink.

“Who would’ve thought someone who had been in such a terrible situation would turn out to be such a sex bomb?”, you think to yourself, “I guess bullying does mess up people’s head more than I knew”.

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (9/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 8.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!

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10 Years Ago

Things were finally looking up.

“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off. 

You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers. 

Maybe things weren't really looking up. 

“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up. 

He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks. 

Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final. 

It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test. 

The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.

You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse. 

Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day. 

“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called. 

Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again. 

In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook. 

Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student. 

“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months. 

“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe. 

“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you. 

“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.

You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.” 

Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee. 

You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.” 

Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.

“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.

Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink. 

“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles. 

You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.

Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship. 

Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers. 

He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break. 

There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck. 

During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years. 

Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.

He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles. 

You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.

“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles. 

If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit. 

“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in. 

Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe. 

You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side. 

“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.” 

You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea. 

“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up. 

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–

“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance. 

If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page. 

Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?” 

You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.” 

“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.” 

Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.” 

“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page. 

Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture. 

Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes. 

Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.

Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.

His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago. 

You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not. 

One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him. 

When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure. 

A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.

It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion. 

It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up? 

“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between. 

Now you're more than positive that something is wrong. 

You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders. 

This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion. 

A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room. 

“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned. 

With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.” 

At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders. 

“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest. 

He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit. 

His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you. 

For what? 

You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out. 

“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin. 

For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion. 

When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point. 

Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.” 

Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.” 

“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you. 

He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling. 

Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue. 

He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet. 

As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too. 

With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.

You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?” 

He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?” 

The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him. 

Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head. 

He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.” 

 “I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.

“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?” 

Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates. 

Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him. 

Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow. 

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.” 

“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.

“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side. 

You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end. 

He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “ 

“Who?” 

“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.

Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort. 

Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space. 

He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back. 

He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years. 

For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it. 

Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now. 

He cares. 

In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has. 

He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage?  Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved? 

So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other. 

Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing. 

He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same. 

You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble. 

You're his girlfriend now. 

He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too. 

“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one. 

You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room. 

He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him. 

“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you. 

His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one. 

“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand. 

He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.” 

Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks. 

You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.” 

He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face. 

It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.

Hoseok would always be the one who got away. 

Your big “what if.” 

Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love. 

“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt. 

“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures,  his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder. 

You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt. 

The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste. 

He could never wait. And he never did. 

He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.

He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks. 

“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine. 

“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub. 

You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment. 

Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop. 

“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment. 

“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again. 

You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows. 

“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.” 

You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. 

The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything. 

Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest. 

Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end. 

“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him. 

He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on. 

“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.

He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.” 

You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.

Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart. 

“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”

You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.” 

You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.” 

You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?” 

“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs. 

“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt. 

“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head. 

“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room. 

“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment. 

You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy. 

So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up. 

“You’re late.”

Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses. 

You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”

“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book. 

You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds. 

“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”

Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.” 

Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book. 

You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation. 

It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list. 

Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for? 

“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look. 

You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.” 

“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book. 

“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood. 

“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.

“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”

Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.” 

“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff. 

Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?” 

The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate. 

“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.” 

Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.” 

If only it were that easy. 

“I’d love to but he never has time.” 

“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter. 

“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–” 

“No, I’m not busy now.” 

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.

All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous. 

“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground. 

You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.

“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you. 

“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table. 

You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying. 

Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.” 

You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.” 

“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.” 

“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks. 

The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public. 

“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?” 

Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.”  You add bitterly. 

“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.” 

You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.” 

He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.” 

You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.” 

He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.” 

“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”  

You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table. 

Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?” 

“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”

Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?” 

“No but it was basically implied.”  You emphasize. 

“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner. 

“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket. 

He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside. 

Namjoon is happy. 

His friends are happy. 

Things in his life were finally looking up. 

“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. 

You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side. 

Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.

He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too. 

a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!

[kaliido-s]

Pinned Post

Hey hi I’m Kal and I draw things sometimes. I’m trying to become more active on tumblr and I figured I’d make a proper pinned post to organize my stuff and give a brief profile on myself

I’m agender, currently 17, and use he/him and she/her pronouns interchangeably. Please do not use they/them to refer to me. For random posts where I yap about my thoughts check the #kal thoughts tag. I’m autistic and post about my different hyperfixations and interests, including…

Godzilla, Undertale/Deltarune, Predator, Transformers, Planet of the Apes, Wings of Fire, and palaeontology and the natural world. If there’s a neat, potentially sapient creature in it, chances are I’ll like it. While I may reblog WoF content, I have largely grown out of my interest in the series, so please don’t follow me for WoF art, as they will likely be once in a blue moon. On the other hand, Godzilla and kaiju are what I post about most often, whether it’s about the canon media or my own fangoji story, Godzilla Rekindled. You can find posts about it through its own tag #godzilla rekindled, feel free to ask me questions because I love yapping!!! :)

(Pictured: Gojira and Gojirin, who make me want to walk into oncoming traffic. I’m trying to post about them more frequently because I spend too much time yapping on discord instead.)

My Socials

Twitter - Unfortunately most active here, the site is really becoming a pain for me so I’m making the effort to be on tumblr more often

Toyhouse - Read my yaps boy

YouTube - Inactive, unless…? (I plan to post some stuff here when I finish them, I used to animate a lot and you can look at it if you wish. Been trying to slowly get out of my burnout)

Archive of our Own - Read my Kongzilla fic #meeting halfway if you want… I’ll write the last two chapters eventually lol (4/6 chapters are done if you just found this out now I am so sorry I forgot to update tumblr 💔)

Discord - Kaliido_scope, dm me if we’re close

Art Info

Commissions? At the moment I only take commissions for Discord Nitro as it’s my only method of compensation. I usually do this for friends or people within certain discord servers, so for public comms, the answer is effectively no. The same can be said for art trades. Art requests are closed unless I say otherwise.

I use IbisPaintX to draw, Alight Motion to edit, and Flipaclip on the rare occasion I animate. Do I recommend these apps? Not really! I’m just stubborn and like sitting through ads and not paying for things.

That’s all the info you need to know, thank you!

(scribble of my silly dog sona by my buddy @corvidcaws )

[sgiandubh]

My curious and random thought: Why ask about Shat and why now? It’s ancient fandom history. Is it only because Star Trek has been an iconic IP at the comic cons, or could there be some clean up planned to close out the last 11 years. And if so what other interesting nuggets might be next.

Dear Ancient Fandom History,

What a #silly, #silly way to minimize/discount something so tragically wrong and so embarrassing to many luminaries across the street! What this sad, cheap troll did to many people is borderline mystifying, if you ignore (I said that before, I will probably say it again) that his leverage was based on the fact this was an almost exclusively feminine fandom and an ageing one, at that. It is my understanding, after reading what happened then, that nobody managed or even wanted to properly put him in his place. His empty threats (and, as a legal specialist, I know what I am saying) terrified and even traumatized many, but also served other trolls, who wanted to either portray themselves as victims, or invincible.

People who were embroiled and/or affected by this had no idea things could go that far in a fandom, an environment that seems absolutely benign (and a bit #silly, too, to be honest) to a perfect outsider. That made the shockwave even more violent .***, Shatner and the gossip press are all guilty and/or tainted by this. They tacitly tolerated, even condoned this troll's abuse of an entire fandom. Why? Because it was convenient, at the time and, on the long run, because OL's PR repeatedly proved itself to be tone-deaf and blatantly incompetent when it comes to crisis management.

Sock puppetry is a fraud (see US courts' jurisprudence, such as United States v. Drew, People v. Golb, etc). Doxing people is a crime, still insufficiently sanctioned by the US legislation (the Interstate Communications Statute and the Interstate Stalking Statute), unlike South Korea or (soon to be) Australia, just to take two random examples. The reasons why they still happen probably are public complacency and lack of proper information, spare the sketchy legislation, allowing many loops.

There were consequences to this. People were hurt, dishonored, despised and shunned. And for what? A not so uncommon love story? This is so wrong, in so many ways, I could be only glad, Anon that some light has been finally shed on this heavy, toxic garbage. Kudos to S for being brave enough to open up Pandora's box. I have to say I was surprised: makes his honesty even more valued.

Why now? Because we are slowly reaching the end, when nothing else matters, as Metallica once famously sang (still one of my favorite ballads, mind you). Will there be more interesting nuggets? Logically yes, but at this point in time, my guess is as good as anyone else's.

Not even sorry for this very long answer. I tend to get very invested in this, reminds me of a former professional life of mine. Happy days.

[Later edit]: forgot to answer your first question. If you think these discussion topics are not discussed before recording and vetted, you are naive, Anon. Very interesting, huh? There was nothing organic in that episode. Nothing.

[f1amboyant]

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)

✄ what’s your editing process? (i loooove hearing about people's writing and editing processes)

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

💕💕

Hiiii, thank you for the ask 💕

-> ask me more

✄ what’s your editing process?

Interesting question! I'm gonna answer with my writing process a bit, because both are intertwined (and you said you love hearing about writing process, too 🫣)

So for short fics (under 2k I would say), I mostly write the whole thing in one or 2 sittings, with no plan, just an idea in my head. And when it's done I edit multiple times. A first reread to adjust some details here and there, make a few sentences flow better. And then I do a spelling check, with 2 different softwares because English is not my first language so I want to get it covered.

For longer fics, I plan the whole story, I plan the chapters, I plan the scenes. Then I write scene by scene, usually in order. For each scene, I first write it very badly. I write the scene, fast and bad, not caring about beautiful sentences. The idea is just to put words on the page and to block the scene (like in movies). When this part is done, I go back and I edit a first time, going over all this poorly written scene to write beautiful sentences (or as beautiful as I can do), to make it readable, basically. Then, since it's a long fic and that some ideas might have pop up in the middle of nothing, I do one or 2 full reread, to adjust everything, make sure everything is coherent, make sure the character doesn't realise he is in love 3 times in 3 different chapters, go back to foreshadow an idea that popped in a later chapter, things like that. And then I can do a spell check on each chapter and that's it! ✨

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

Easiest: Corset ~ The words just flew out of me, and it greatly helped that @moossings worked on their drawing at the same time as I wrote, so I just had to put their sketches into words and that was so much fun.

Hardest: Steal your art (and your heart) ~ The first chapters were so much fun and so easy to write, I wasn't prepared for the enormous block that fell on me halfway through it. Writing the last chapters was so so hard, for no particular reason. I was lucky I had my dear @drspleenmeister writing with me 🫶

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)

Oooooooh, that's an interesting one. The Worst Alpha is omagaverse charlos, with alpha Charles experiencing omega Carlos' heat for the first time and having a whole crisis about if he is or not a good alpha. And truly, I think Oscar would fit that role pretty well too.

Oscar is an Alpha who grew with omega sisters. He knows what it is to be an omega. In theory. But he's never been with an omega. So it's all pretty new. And also, he has this massive crush on Carlos, because damn, have you seen that man?? Oscar was doomed from the start. But he's trying to act like a good alpha and not get overbearing with the omega he fancies, so he stays mostly away.

Then Lando shenanigans, probably. Maybe Lando does it on purpose or maybe not, but it makes Carlos and Oscar meet. Maybe, Carlos is in heat, and he usually goes to omega Lando for comfort during his heat but Lando isn't answering. And when Carlos goes to Lando's room, he finds Oscar there because Oscar is waiting for Lando to return too (maybe Lando asked him over and then forgot, or something like that).

It hits Oscar. The smell. Powerful. And so so sweet. Mouthwatering. Oscar is losing his fucking mind.

"Oh sorry, I thought this was Lando's room."

"You're in heat."

"Pff, this guy," Carlos huffs. "I know, that's why I'm looking for Lando."

"He's not here," Oscar answers unhelpfully, but his brain is completely fried. There's Carlos in the room with him. Carlos in heat. Oscar is gonna die.

"Well, tell him to call me if you see him."

Carlos starts to leave but Oscar stops him.

"Do you need help? With your heat? Until Lando comes back," Oscar offers.

"Sure." Carlos has never been with an Alpha before but this one smells pretty nice and also, he is tired of waiting for Lando, so why not? He's not afraid of a little Alpha rookie.

So they spend a little time together, in Lando's room. It's awkward as fuck. Carlos borrows a hoodie from Lando and sits on the couch, to play some game. Oscar stays with him and offers to help, getting him heat supplies that he steals from Lando (he doesn't care). He doesn't really know what to do, how to feel. It's never been like that in his family. Oscar is a pretty decent Alpha, but he never had to fight the urge to bend this Omega in half and fuck him senseless. But yeah, that's what's happening now. He is losing his mind.

He keeps his wit enough to half ass taking care of Carlos until Lando comes back and saves them from the awkwardness. Except after that Oscar can't stop thinking about it, can't stop thinking about Carlos. If he had a crush before, this gets to another level entirely because now, he knows what Carlos in heat smells like and it's too much for him. Too much to stay away. So he tries to get close, to court him very awkwardly (and never saying officially it is courting). And maybe in his quest to get closer to Carlos, he also crashes with him on track a little too much (oops 🤭).

They're not exactly becoming friends but they're getting closer. And Carlos isn't entirely immune to this awkward Alpha who's courting him, without courting him. It's cute. And he likes him more and more.

So his next heat, he doesn't go to Lando, he goes to see Oscar (Oscar once again losing his fucking mind as he refrains all instincts to fuck/mate/breed with the beautiful Omega). And again and again. They spend more time together, spending heats together. But nothing happens. They just cuddle a little, play games. They talk too, getting to know each other.

Until Carlos says he would like to try spending his heat having sex, because it can be fun and a very good time (Oscar definitely loses his mind at that). They almost kiss already, just talking about it, grinding against each other (Oscar is losing his mind, definitely). They agree to have sex next heat.

Next heat comes. Oscar is beyond excited, he cannot wait to be with Carlos again. But he sees Carlos with another Alpha (Charles, or Max, maybe). And the two are not flirting exactly, but they are not keeping their distance either. And with Carlos being in pre-heat, this could really be courting.

Oscar is devastated. He thought he was a good Alpha, but apparently he's the worst because Carlos is choosing someone else, and why wouldn't he choose someone else. So Oscar spirals out of him mind, while Carlos' heat hits and it's way stronger than before and without Oscar there to help him, Carlos is losing his mind too but for a whole other reason.

So a little bit of misunderstanding, and an intervention from Lando before they finally get together and it's all better, it's all okay. And their first time is awkward as fuck but so hot and Oscar is the worst Alpha but he doesn't care because apparently, Carlos loves it (him).

[pikahlua]

I really love your analyses about Bakugo. You're one of the few people in the fandom whose opinions I value, so thank you. I have a question for you. If Deku and Bakugo were supposed to be the better versions of All Might with their ideals and Deku with his fight encouraged the public to reach out a hand and showcased teamwork, what did Bakugo’s fight do to change the status quo? Deku already gets constant feedback from the public about this. Even Ochako was rewarded in line with the themes in the last chapter. But what about Bakugo? All we see are few crazy fangirls. Bakugo saving All Might was good in the moment, but we didn't see anything after that. His actions aren't acknowledged like those of Ochako or Deku. For example, why don't civilians quote him? He's such a special character that I'm a bit sad about this ending. I can't shake the feeling that he deserved more.

If Deku and Bakugo were supposed to be the better versions of All Might

I have to stop you right there, because either I don't agree with this statement or don't understand it as written.

But if your basic question is what lasting impact does Katsuki have on society, first of all, no one says he has to have one (I mean, what is Shouto's lasting impact on society, for that matter? They're all only like 23-24 years old at this point), and second of all, it entirely depends on what you want to count as a lasting impact on society.

Option 1: He defended the spirits of those who would push for progress.

Option 2: He inspired others to dream of being heroes in the same way All Might inspired him.

Option 3: He devoted himself to restoring the major symbol that inspired society to change in the first place. He protected Izuku's dream (and thus anyone who shared his same dream) better than anyone else ever did.

I've noticed the online fandom has been extremely obsessed with this idea of acknowledgement lately, and I would caution you all to be wary of that. Acknowledgement comes in many forms, but also some things do not need acknowledgement to be meaningful. Of course he deserves the world, but what one deserves and what one gets are often not the same, and MHA has demonstrated that in spades.

EDIT: Thank you for your kind words anon. I forgot to mention that. I wrote this answer when I had a big headache and I think it came across harsher than I intended, and I'm sorry for that <3

[puffein]

COFFEE AT NINE | late spring [iv.]

summary: after months of not seeing each other, you finally asked wanda to have coffee with you for the last time. pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader warnings: angst, profanity word count: 1140 a/n: i almost pluck my hair out editing this ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ

series masterlist playlist!

Westview, New Jersey

Late-December 2023

"Sorry, I know you told me 9 but Jarvis got this thing and I forgot to make him his lunch so I—" Wrapped securely on her long dark green jacket, Wanda's disheveled bright auburn hair came right in front of your sight. 

Wearing nice loose pipe jeans, its small pieces of thread hanging loosely right at her knees, and a v-neck shirt full of horizontal lines tucked gracefully on her pants, her face screams guilt and regret as she positioned herself on the vacant seat facing you.

"It's okay, Wanda." you cut her off too quickly, too fast that you saw the flash of fall of her beautiful face. 

"Really, it's fine. I just got here anyways," you reassure her, mouth moving in a tight smile. 

"I know I have been M.I.A since I got married I think even before that maybe in college—"

Your laugh interrupts her line of thoughts, "You don't have to apologize, It's technically your honeymoon anyways. And what happened in college, it was in the past." you give her a cool smile, eyes lingering at the surge of something you don't quite know in her eyes.

You see the bobbing of her throat, "Right, of course. I'm happy you asked me to hang out, it's been so long since we did something just the two of us, like before." Wanda rambles, eyes not staying in one place.

"Y/N, I wanted to apologize about—"

"How's Jarvis?" you suddenly question, sipping lightly on your now cold coffee. Eyes staring at the wall behind her.

Wanda's eyes lodge at her cup of coffee which is also now cold, a clear reminder of how late she was at this coffee hangout you asked her. She wanted to continue the words being cut off but then she saw how your eyes never stayed at hers.

"Fine, good. He got this promotion just a month after the wedding and he was overjoyed by it," she answers, voice quivering lightly as her mouth comes in touch with the coffee. 

"How are you, Y/N?"

"Doing good, I'm planning on trying new things, career-wise." you declare, not indulging deeper in this 'trying new things'. She doesn't have to know that you'll be trying out a new different country. 

Her eyes lit up, seemingly thrilled at the words she was hearing, and the dampened posture she had seemed to vanish as her face glows in excitement, "That's good! What are you thinking about it?"

You tell her the details of the plan, of your goals, of your vision for this new version of your life. Clearly leaving out the words 'moving away' or anything that suggests moving into a new environment, away from her, miles away from her, physically out of reach from her. 

She eats up every word you tell her, you let yourself grasp that tiny happiness blooming in your chest, everything feels so normal right at this moment. Just like before, just the two of you, worlds blurry, voices mute, sights focused on each other. 

Time seems to be moving fast when you let yourself enjoy this last moment you have with her and before you know it, the two of you stand outside the coffeehouse. 

You stare at her, consuming the sight of how her hair and the blowing wind consummate itself with a beautiful dance. You greedily ingest her image, the perfect curves of her face, the lightness engraved solely at her green eyes, the tiny constellations in her cheeks, you just consumed her.

Your breath quickens, the hands situated at your pockets balled into a fist. You can't back out now, you promised yourself to distance. You can't break another vow of yours. Not now.

"That was fun." she chirps, her smile so wide that the crinkles on the side of her eyes stick out so clearly. 

"We should do it again, Y/N. I promise not to be late next time." She mutters, playfulness leaping out of her tone as she mentions her tardiness.

"Sure." 

She whips her head to look at you, grinning, "See you soon?" the light shuffling of her shoes on the pavement makes its way to your ears. A gentle reminder of what is gonna happen after this moment.

You give her a big grin, nodding your head in such a determined manner. Frightened to open your mouth, distrust screams at your head with the thought of using words to say something to her. Just something. You have no will to use your voice, afraid to say something that will somehow backtrack all the choices you have chosen. To be here in this right moment, with her. 

She doesn't see your struggles, of course, she wouldn't, she was too caught up with how things are back with her best friend. Too overjoyed to finally have her best friend back. How her concerns about that night at her wedding, how the unspoken things that happened before are vanishing as she really sees nothing is wrong with the both of you. That it was just all her anxiety shouting in her mind. 

And that everything is just as it is, like before.

She takes a step forward then completely stops just a few inches beside you. Wanda's hand seems to want to reach out for you but her arms stay glued at her sides, tapping lightly on her thighs, she then points at the other side of the road with her head. You nod again, a smile plastered on your face. You watch her take light steps onto the pedestrian lane, walking farther away from you, her flower-scented perfume lingers on the air surrounding you. You take a sharp intake of breath, it feels like the air is closing in on you, with its sharp edges pricking the very center of your chest. You watch.

Your eyes dawdle on her figure, lungs constricting suddenly as your finger runs up to touch something wet on your cheeks. 

You huff out an ironic laugh, "Fucking shit."

You watch her figure closely, you watch the soles of her boots welcome every inch of the pavement, you watch the light bounce off her bright auburn hair that seems to be more bright as the sun cascades itself right on her figure, with every step she takes is another distance being added between you and her. 

The familiar shape of her figure finally disappears, vanishing into a place farther away from you. A realization descends in like a big wave crashing brutally on your already crushed soul. A realization came in even though you already knew what was happening. You have chosen this. This path. However, the advanced knowledge of the course of events still didn't lessen the pain you felt at this very moment.

At the realization that she's finally out of reach.

general masterlist ◄ ►

—୧ taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @sokovianbaby @vivs46

[hydrangeyes]

Missing you

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

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

Aizawa x Male reader

(Y/n just returned from an out-of-the-country mission. And well how can you blame him for immediately looking for his precious boyfriend?) unedited

+Fluff (✿◠‿◠) +

Height: 6'2

Gender: Male

Age: 32

personality: Impulsive, bubbly, kinda forgetful

Hair color: Hazelnut brown

Eye color: honey brown

body type: Lean but muscular, not bulky, soft

Quirk: ????

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

Y/n has never run so fast in his life.

Y/n didn't really think through exactly what he was currently doing. That is breaking into his boyfriend of 4 years, workplace. Well sort of breaking, he had a copy of his mans' teacher id..... did that count?

How was he supposed to know they added extra security!? Hell why was all might chasing after him, they knew each other dammit!! Y/n conveniently forgot just how different he looked now, being both taller and muscular than when he last saw the prized hero.

Thinking quickly Y/n scrambles to the nearest door and dove inside without (once again) thinking it through.

Panting and wheezing a little, Y/n blink seeing a bunch of eyes now on him.

"Y-yo..." he stutters out to apparently a bunch of kids mid-training.

"Y/n? You idiot how did you get in here?" a familiar tired voice call out not far from y/n. Immediately forgetting where he was Y/n tackles the man with a delighted laugh.

"Shota!!"

Said man was previously sitting on the floor next to his students' belongings, leaning back on his rolled-up sleeping bag. Both him and y/n now a sprawl on the bag and floor.

"I'm so happy to see you, as soon as I got off the plane-"

"Y/N!"

Aizawa groans as y/n finally stop talking looking at him with his full attention. (Y/n: ≧◉◡◉≦??) "Maybe here isn't the place for this? my students..." he grumbles. Y/n blinks finally catching on and looks from their little bubble to see the students all gathered and watching with interest.

"a-ah, um sorry about interrupting kiddos." y/n coughs out realizing he did it again. Getting up and helping Aizawa he bows deeply before straightening and rubbing the back of his next. " Couldn't help rushing to see my sweetheart."

the burst of surprised outcries filled the gym and Aizawa winced as he sees Mina and Denki grab onto Y/n demanding answers. glancing over at the door he waves off a thoroughly confused all might wondering if he should end the class early. He could sneak off while they were distracted with Y/n.....

"So Mr. L/n what's Mr. Aizawa like outside of school?"

"hm? well I guess it depends! usually he's cuddly and - mftt?"

Y/n blinks looking down to see aizawa's scarf covering his mouth. looking back y/n chuckles nervously seeing aizawa glare at them. "That is none of their business, also you still have yet to answer my question. How did you get in?"

Y/n fully turns and giving him a kiss on the cheek, "Come on sweetheart, I wasn't going to say anything embarrassing..." Y/n inwardly let's out a breathe when that seems to calm the man down.

"I do have a copy of your old id card, it still works apparently." Y/n shrugs.

sighing and rubbing his temple, Aizawa waves at his students. "Class dismissed, I have to get the situation this idiot no doubt caused cleared up."

:One awkward mini teacher meeting later:

Y/n pouts from where he is sitting on the couch. He wasn't exactly in trouble but he was told off once things were cleared. Now here he was in aizawa's dorm apartment, which was confusing they had a place already, waiting for his sweetheart to finish showering.

"oh peaches, It's not a crime to love someone too much right?" y/n dramatically coos to a black cat that comes to him sniffing his leg curiously. their collar pendant engraved with 'peachs <3'.

"In your case, no."

Smiling softly y/n looks back to see Aizawa drying his hair wearing black sweatpants and a long sleeve grey shirt. "Mmh good, I don't think I could stop." y/n teases. Aizawa rolls his eyes and comes around to sit next to him.

Laying back on the couch arms, Y/n tugs him to lay on top. "I've missed you."

Aizawa chuckles softly and gives him a kiss.

"I've missed you too."

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

short but felt like this would be a fun start to this book. I should say that the UA whenever I write about it or our beloved characters are in a college setting (U.A being the college). As well as characters being OOC canon-wise because of this.

anyway, Thanks cupcakekiller for the request!!

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Mountain Guard

And because it has been so long since I posted anything I'm being nice and posting another imagine. This was something I cooked up last year I think and then forgot about. I edited it a little but it's definitely unpolished. I may, and that is a big may, look at writing more in this universe if people are interested.

It's still set in the Walking Dead Universe but it's an AU and the timeline is probs a little shifty. In this universe Shifters exist. Reader is gender neutral.

Warnings: Brief description of hunting and animal death.

Master List

Prompt List

Daryl tensed for a millisecond before relaxing at the warmth that appeared behind him, arms wrapped around his waist as your chest leaned against his back. He reached down and grabbed one of your hands, squeezing before letting go.

“It’s too hot darlin’,” he grumbled, though it lacked any real bite to it. “Go bother Rick.”

“Nope, I saw you first,” you grinned blowing air on the back of his neck causing him to shiver a little. “Thought I might see if I can hunt down any food. Wanna come?”

“In this form or the other?” he questioned looking over his shoulder, his fingers trailing up and down your arm leaving goosebumps in their wake. A slow, purring started in your chest as you nuzzled into his neck. He huffed at your actions, but loved that he could cause this reaction from you.

“Hm, the other,” you answered kissing his cheek over his shoulder and pulling away. “Better chance of finding something.”

“I’ll grab Rick,” Daryl turned around looking at you properly. “Meet you at the gates.”

He dropped a kiss onto your cheek before he jogged away looking to grab the other member of your trio. It had been a while since the three of you were able to spend time together without anyone bothering you. Hunting tended to be the only time you could have alone. You happily skipped down to the gate waving at those who said hi to you as you passed them. You knew that one of the others would grab a pack for your clothes so you didn’t worry about it.

You didn’t have to wait long before Rick and Daryl were making their way down the road to you, Daryl keeping a firm hold of Rick’s hand to prevent him from wondering off or stopping for too long to talk to someone. You could hear Carol and Maggie laughing up the hill at the actions of the hunter. You grinned, skipping up to them to greet both of your men with a kiss. Purring as Rick squeezed your hip gently.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Rick hummed. “Daryl said you wanted to go huntin’?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded backing up towards the gate, those on guard opening it for you. “It’s been a while.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Rick tugged Daryl along with him as he followed you out the gate. “I need to do better with prioritising you two.”

“Yah, ya do,” Daryl grumbled but the both of you could hear the affection in his tone. It took him a while to get comfortable and confident enough in this relationship to speak his mind or even just hold yours and Ricks hands in public. But now, now this man had no problem with doing either of those things. Rick smiled gently at the quiet man tugging him closer to kiss him along his jaw, nuzzling into his neck in a mimicry to your actions from earlier. Daryl might be more confident in his relationship with the two of you but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t the easiest to fluster, his cheeks turned pink at Rick’s actions.

You grinned darting toward Daryl to kiss him, before jumping away your eyes slowly taking on a more feline look as you kicked off your shoes, leaving Rick to pick them up and put them in the backpack he was carrying. The men pulled away from each other to watch you, their eyes burning as you slowly removed the rest of your clothing, revealing more and more skin. It didn’t matter how often the two of them saw you naked, you still had a mesmerising effect on them. You quickly shifted into your other form. You took the form of a cougar, though larger than a normal one, your reddish-brown fur was sleek as you shook your body out getting use to your other form again. Your long tail had a black tip on the end, and it flicked playfully behind you as your yellow eyes stared at the two before you.

“Damn, ya beautiful,” Daryl muttered as he reached forward to scratch behind your ear. You came up to about his waist at your shoulders your head just a little bit higher allowing you to nuzzle into his chest comfortably.

“Doesn’t matter how many times we see ya like this darlin’,” Rick grinned. “It’ll always take our breathe away.”

Your ears perked at those compliments, purring louder in this form as you head bumped Rick after detaching yourself from Daryl. You rubbed all along them, leaving your scent behind, warning off other shifters and wild animals alike, that these two were yours. Your nose twitched as the wind blew the scent of a stag towards you, you lowered your body a little focusing your senses as a soft growl rumbled in your chest, alerting Rick and Daryl that you were on the hunt.

“You got something?” Daryl asked taking his crossbow off his back and notching a bolt.

You dipped your head once before trotting off in the direction of the scent. You stayed in a slow trot so your men could keep up with you. You were careful to keep them away from Walkers, thankful for once they smelt so horrid which allowed you to know when they were near. Daryl got a few rabbits during the hunt, when you stopped and nudged Daryl towards them. He would grin down at you, scratching you behind your ears before getting them. Rick carried the rabbits in the satchel he was carrying that was separate from his backpack, knowing that if the two of you were hunting together there would be an abundance of rabbits and birds.

The time always flew by when you hunted with your men, the sun was starting to get lower in the sky when you stopped, lowering yourself to the ground, body as still as you could make it, with a low growl rumbling in your chest. Daryl and Rick automatically stopped and couched down beside you, their eyes searching for the stag. Daryl, of course, was the first to see it, he tapped Rick on the shoulder twice and pointed to the stag that was drinking from the river just a few paces in-front of you. Your body wiggled as Daryl lined up his shot and you were ready to leap at the stag. Daryl released the bolt, hitting the stag in the neck, he grumbled a little to himself as the stag startled and started trying to run but unfortunately you were too quick as you had leaped the moment you had heard the sound of string. Your teeth tore into the throat of the stag as your large body brought it down, you made it quick not wanting the creature to suffer. You released your teeth the moment you no longer heard it breathing, Rick and Daryl joined you moments later.

“Excellent, this was a good find,” Rick grinned, stroking the fur along your neck, as he kneeled down beside you. Daryl was on the other side of the stag, already taking out his bolt and passing the rope to Rick to tie the legs of the stag together to make it easier to carry back to camp.

“I think you were even quicker this time love,” Daryl grinned, pulling out a bottle of water from his backpack, offering it you to wash out your mouth. “You staying in this form a little longer?”

You purred lowly before you spat out the water away from the stag. It was easier to smell or hear Walkers, it would be riskier on the way back to the prison due to the fresh blood of the stag. And with Rick and Daryl carrying the stag between them you would have to be extra vigilant, to keep them away from any Walkers.

--

After the stag and the rabbits had been delivered to the people whose turn it was to prep the bounties the three of you found your way to an area in the back of the prison that was your little area. It was nicely secluded, which meant you could shift between human and cat form without worrying about prying eyes seeing you bare. As soon as Rick closed the door you allowed the shift to take over you, shaking your body as it changed back to human. You took a few minutes to stretch our your limbs and allow you to get use to the change in your senses.  

“The one thing I do not like about this ability is that even in my human form I can taste the blood of that stag,” you whined sticking your tongue out a little, and gagging. You reached for the backpack that held your clothes, quickly pulling them on but as you got to your shirt you found it replaced by one of Ricks. You raised an eyebrow at Rick as you settled down onto the mattress that was on the ground, doing up a few buttons but leaving most of it unbuttoned and the sleeves hanging down over your hands.

“You scent us all the time, Darlin’” Rick merely shrugged. “And you wore one of Daryl’s the other day.”

Daryl snorted from where he was laying down behind you, his body curled around you as if he was the cat shifter and not you. He offered you a bottle of water, and leaves that smelt of mint.

“Where did you get that my love?” you asked taking the offerings.

“I planted some here, after you complained about the tastes,” Daryl murmured, cheeks heating a little.

Rick grinned as he came to sit by Daryl’s head, lifting it a little so he could slid under, allowing Daryl to rest on his lap, as he slowly combed his fingers through Daryl’s hair. You had finished rinsing your mouth out after chewing on the mint leaves, happy with the taste now currently in your mouth. You tilted Daryl’s head up to kiss him in thanks, before pressing one to Rick’s lips as well.

“You are far too sweet my hunter,” you purred, laying down beside him, curling your body against his. Rick reached out to run the fingers of his other hand through your hair as well, lightly tugging on it until you were rumbling in contentment at the actions.

The sun was just starting to set as the three of you shifted your positions so you could all be laying down comfortably with Daryl in the middle, holding you close with Rick on the other side, spooned up against his back and holding him securely, one of Ricks hands resting on your hip. There was nothing you enjoyed more than cuddling with your mates after a successful hunt to provide for your pack.

[evignonita]

someone had asked me if i studied/study something related to art or if i learn independently, but i think they deleted the comment naooo

i am an artist by hobby, that is to say that i do not have an academic background in art, soooo yeah i learn independently. people who study something related to it will notice that there are technical flaws in my drawings that i do not notice 😭😭😭

also i will just turn 18 in a few months; i have already graduated from high school and now i am entering university and, in fact, i will not study anything related to arts atm 🙁. at my school they taught us arts, yes, but basic drawing and basic shading, it wasn't relevant at all ljwoejrprjrlr. at least in Chile art schools for children and adolescents are not something like i have seen in other countries (or at least that is the case in my city, in Santiago or surrounding areas it must be different). i dare say that doesn't exist in my city (? because when i was in my last year of middle school i wanted to get into a school like that and OH SURPRISE, they only teach music in that school 😭😭😭😭 so i didn't have the opportunity to learn it in a more technical way as i would have liked

edit: I forgot to mention that in high school I went from 8 am to 6-7 pm from Monday to Thursday so I didn't have time to learn drawing externally and technically either

i could show you what they taught me at school, but that's at my mom's house and i don't think i'll find those drawings, but i'll try anyway 🙂‍↕️

if my financial situation is good when i finish my degree (plsssss i'm trying to be optimistic for a 6-year future ☠️), i would like to study fine arts because it is something that currently interests me, but sadly has very little relevance. so first I want to be sure of everything and then take the next step

sorry for yapping i love yapping i love saying things i love eetiewiee i lvoe my baka life

BTWWWW you can ask me anything you want at any time, I have no problem answering. It's just that sometimes i take too long to do it because I get distracted and forget everything or I'm in a phase where i want to be alone HDPEHEPE sorreyy. Preferably through the question box plsss thanks guys.....

[lordsalissoon]

haya thanks so much for answering all my incesant questions not sure if i missed it or if it got lost in all my other questions lol but in my last ask i dont think you answered when i asked about silvers poison and its effect on the body like is its paralitic or just deadly and if nokori's suffer sensory issues from there new forms? Like evy having multple ears causing her to hear things on a different level than she is used to etc

sorry if you had answered and i missed it or mis understood, and its cool if the silver one will get shown later (i asumed it might but figured id ask)

Oh yeah, you're right I missed it!!!

Silver venom is paralytic. It can be dangerous and cause the heart to stop if she injects too much of the venom into someone, but she almost never needs to use a large amount. In small doses (one sting), it has almost no effect. She avoids using it because she doesn’t know how many stings would be too much. One is safe; two can paralyze a horse. But what would happen with three? Four? Since the Agency discovered that a large amount of her venom could stop someone’s heart, she has stopped using it altogether.

Unless it's an emergency, of course!

Edit: I forgot to answer the sensory part, so I'm adding it now!

It really depends on the nokori. Remember, even if the nokori’s mind once belonged to a human, their entire body is a fusion of everything involved in the ritual and more. Some nokori weren't even human to begin with.

For some nokori, the transformation was particularly difficult, not only due to the sensory changes but also because of their entirely new bodies. Others adapted with ease, as if they had been born with these new limbs and heightened senses. For some, the ability to smell more acutely was overwhelming, while for others, it was like 'putting on glasses' for the first time, allowing them to experience scents as if it had always been a part of their nature.