#he's got one objective and one objective only and for it he's dedicating his entire life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

highvern · 6 months ago

Text

Totally Scrooged

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x f!reader

Genre: neighbor!au, idiots to lovers, fluff/angst/smut

warnings: alcohol consumption, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), protected sex, lots of crying, mentions of cheating (not reader or seokmin), theater nerd Seokmin

Length: ~16k

Note: I was hoping to post this way earlier but alas. I got sick back to back over the holidays. ANYWAYS thank u my sweet @gyuswhore for beta reading and talking me down from the edge and @miniseokminnies for all the theater knowledge. And @ugh-yoongi bc words are hard. CHECK OUT the rest of the fics on @camandemstudios and keep an eye for our next project

summary: When your ex decides to propose to his best friend he told you not to worry about only eleven months after your breakup, you decide the holidays aren’t worth it this year. You’re dedicated to ignoring the red and green splashed on every surface, but your neighbor has a way of convincing you maybe the holidays aren’t totally bad.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Shot number four is about the time you realize drinking your sorrows alone in your apartment on a Saturday night is a little bit pathetic. But you unlock your phone out of habit and the same picture of your ex down on one knee in the middle of the street in marathon gear stares back at you and a fifth shot sounds exactly like what you need.

At least the burn of peppermint schnapps is festive.

Ten months. You and Sam split barely ten months and he’s already engaged to Carson.

After three years of dating, getting Sam to talk about plans further than a month out was like pulling teeth. When he asked you to move in with him you thought there was a very real chance he suffered some head injury that day. Sam and long term commitment didn’t mix. Your entire relationship felt like borrowed time. His engagement proved it was the truth.

In hindsight, you should’ve trusted your gut about Sam’s “platonic” “childhood” “best” “friend.”

They did everything together. Their families vacationed in Montauk every summer, they alternated who hosted which major holiday despite living next door, there isn’t a single milestone either achieved without the other. Every time you visited his parents house the plethora of photos of your boyfriend and his best friend from cradle to present day seemed to grow exponentially.

She’s like my sister.

Most people would frown upon dating a sibling after breaking up with their long term girlfriend, who was sick at home with the flu during Christmas, via text but what do you know? You’re the one sitting on your couch in a tiny apartment you can barely afford wallowing in drunk sorrows while they’re out celebrating.

It’s addicting. Scrolling through all the comments on their engagement photos, with a blanket over your head like some fairytale witch. Sam’s friends you tried so hard to bond with flood the comments, gushing about how cute he and Carson are, how happy they are for them.

Your friends text you how much of a jerk he is, a few call but you ignore them. All you want is to wallow in self pity.

Like the judgemental diva she is, Shinx watches from her tower in the corner, green eyes disdainful. She never liked Sam anyway.

It’d be better if Carson wasn’t objectively likable. Everyone liked her, you included. At least, until your boyfriend dumped you in a three sentence text and she posted a picture of them together on her Instagram not twenty four hours later with the caption “the best things take a while” – color coordinated for the Spencer family photo shoot in front of their lake house.

Assholes.

Even when she isn’t dolled up for pictures, you can’t even pretend she isn’t pretty. Carson looks like she belongs on a Hollywood set, even after running a 5k at the crack of dawn. Perfect messy ponytail, face rosie but not too red. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair.

Shot number seven empties the bottle.

Through the living room wall your neighbor belts the lyrics to Celine Dione’s “All By Myself.”

It was ignorable the first few times he replayed it – a little poetic even given the circumstances – but it’s been nearly twenty minutes and you don’t need to be reminded how alone you are. You rocket off the couch and land against the wall with a thud.

“Keep,” knock. “It.” Knock. “Down.” Knock. Knock. KNOCK.

Mr. Neighbor, because you don’t know his name, sings louder.

In the months you’ve lived in this apartment you’ve met your neighbor exactly twice. When you first moved in only two weeks after your break up because Sam’s name was on the lease - not yours – and this was the only place you could find on such short notice in the middle of winter. You had the unfortunate privilege of riding the elevator with him in complete silence, only the sound of your pathetic cries as you moved soggy box after box. He was at least polite enough to take the stairs afterwards. And last month, during a building-wide fire drill because someone on the second floor fell asleep while making boiled eggs. Neither of you felt very chatty at four in the morning.

You couldn’t care less about splotchy cheeks or if your eyes were bloodshot. In your drunken righteousness, you don’t care that there’s mascara running down your face or the sweatshirt billowing around you has grease stains. Something snapped in you. Gritting your teeth, you rush out to the hall and straight for the neighboring door.

Your knuckles sting with each knock but he doesn’t answer until you escalate to pounding against the metal door like the police.

Mr. Neighbor must hear that because Celine cuts off mid-belt. Seconds later the door flies open.

He’s taller than you remember, your eyes level with a hole in the collar of his sweater. When you drag your gaze away from the dip of his throat the combination of tears and booze make deciphering his face incredibly difficult because he has four of them and they keep moving back and forth in blurry circles. His dark hair sticks up in a million directions. Like he put his finger in an electric socket and then tried to fix the mess himself.

Mr. Neighbor stares at you, expression unreadable. “Can I help you?”

“You know,” you start, teetering on drunk feet as you shove an indignant finger into his chest. “Some of us just want to come home from work and relax! Not listen to their neighbors screaming at the top of their lungs.”

“I didn’t realize it was that loud,” he hiccups. “I’ll turn it down.”

It’s hard to be angry when he looks like a mirror image of you. Wet, red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling nose. There’s booze in the air which could be yours but with the state he’s in it’s doubtful. Who listens to “All by Myself” ten times if they aren’t also sobbing alone in the dark?

Guilt squeezes your chest. “Sorry, I’m just…rough day.”

Mr. Neighbor doesn’t say anything for a long time, appraising you silently. If you weren’t drunk off your rocker then the fact you aren’t wearing a bra and the old sweater you tossed on does nothing to hide that fact might be embarrassing. Or how you aren’t even wearing shoes, just fuzzy socks with a hole in the ankle. You also smell like a drunk elf who escaped the North Pole.

“It’s okay. Sorry about the music.”

Mouth moving before you know what comes out, you stop him from leaving just yet. “Why are you crying?”

“Stupid shit,” he says. “Why are you crying?”

You want to brush it off. You’re not looking for pity. Sam objectively sucked and your relationship would’ve ended one way or another. While most people preferred not to be humiliated via social media, it showed his true colors and firmly shut the door. But sometimes, it just feels good to cry all the frustration out and wish the worst on people who deserved it. And you really would prefer not to do either of those things with your neighbor you hardly know.

Especially, when you realize he’s objectively hot even through the blur of tears and intoxication. But alcohol has a way of losing even the tightest lips.

“My ex got engaged.”

His eyes widened in shock before softening in pity.

“Do you wanna come in?”

You don’t sense any ulterior motive. Mr. Neighbor has the vibe of someone who never met a stranger, one of those people you tell your life story to in the airport when your flights are delayed only to leave and realize the only thing you learned about him was he also hated airline food and thought flying first class on domestic flights was a waste of money.

Maybe whatever “stupid shit” he was crying over can be a distraction from your own baggage. If it can’t, at least the invite to complain to a person completely unexposed to the drama of your love life wasn’t half bad.

But you don’t know him. His stupid shit could be infinitely worse and then you look like the asshole while he’s crying over his childhood pet passing away back at his parents house while he’s stuck in his apartment because flights during Thanksgiving were ungodly expensive.

Either way, another person to whine about the world with sounded nice.

You say yes, following him inside.

Mr. Neighbor’s apartment is similar to yours; mirrors the layout of your cramped one bedroom except with neutral colors and a lot more decor. The couch divides the living area from the kitchen. Comfy blankets and pillows littered around. Someone actually lives here, unlike your place where the most personalized thing is fridge magnets. You didn’t feel the need to decorate an apartment you didn’t see yourself staying in very long. Even if it’d been almost a year and the lease renewal sat on your countertop, signed and ready to drop off at the leasing office.

He walks into the kitchen, leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room while he fishes in the cabinet for something. You sink into one of the leather barstools and watch as he pours water from a pitcher in the sink and slides it across the counter.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You drink it all in one go while he waits, sobering up enough to realize how embarrassing this all is. You’re drunk, in your mysterious neighbor's kitchen, crying about your ex-boyfriend. But he was drunk, listening to one of the most depressing songs in history, crying about “stupid shit.” Mutually assured destruction.

“We only broke up at Christmas last year.”

“And he’s already engaged?”

“To his best friend.”

At that, Mr. Neighbor procures another glass and pours a little bit of whiskey before presenting it to you. “That’s rough.”

This time, you don’t even wince when you swallow.

He stares, waiting for some sort of reply, tipping the bottle into his own cup but not drinking it just yet. Now that he only has one face instead of four, your face heats. Drunk, sad and a little horny because he has really nice hands, and an even better face.

You tug your phone out and push it across the counter as a distraction for you both. Not that he probably needs it, you’re a wreck. “Here look at this picture.”

Mr. Neighbor scrolls through each picture methodically. Zooming in on strangers he doesn’t even know. Mouthing the caption in silent horror. In effort not to stare at his fingers, you focus on everything else in his apartment.

His fridge is covered in magnets and take out menus, but mixed into the collage are pictures. Photobooth strips in black and white, some large normal photos better suited for a frame. You’re too far away to decipher any of it but curiosity itches you to get a closer look. Postcards from different places, sport theme magnets. Baseball seems to be his favorite.

“He proposed to her at a Turkey Trot?” he says, like the idea is incredibly alien.

“Their families have done it since they were born. Like their moms ran it pregnant and pushed them in strollers until they could keep up.”

“That is….”

You laugh. “Insane.”

“I’m glad you said it,” he chuckles. “Who proposes after running a marathon?”

“I know!” you cry.

You tip the bottle of whiskey into your once again empty mug. There will be hell to pay in the morning but you need something to do to distract from the way your heart pinches at the sound of his laugh. The sad drunk stage is tapering into the horny drunk stage and you really don’t need to ask your nameless neighbor if he wants to make out on his couch. Although, it looks leagues comfier than the second hand lump sitting a wall over. Drinking any more will only make it worse but you need something to do with your hands that doesn’t involve touching him, or thinking about touching him.

He circles the counter and takes the barstool next to yours. Close enough you can feel the heat from his body, the smell of soap and citrus faintly tickling your nose. You want to dive into his shirt and breathe it in until you fall asleep.

Mr. Neighbor is just a decently attractive man that has been overly generous with his time and not been a creep. That is the only reason why your brain is latching onto him right now; you know it. In a few hours, when your head hangs limp over the toilet bowl, you’ll regret this entire interaction and even more if you make it weird.

You balk, rushing away from the thought and looking for a distraction. “I’m not like…pining over him, if that's what you’re wondering. It just sucks seeing your ex who was staunchly against any long term commitment make it clear he was only against long term commitment with you.”

Mr. Neighbor seems to believe you. So many of your friends thought you harbored feelings for Sam this long after the break up but the truth is, you almost expected things to end. Not on Christmas with nothing but a text message, but it always felt like you and Sam had one foot out of the relationship. The end brought certainty and for that you almost felt relieved.

“If it’s any help, I don’t think it was a ‘you’ problem.”

For a second, you want to believe he actually believes that. He’s not just saying it because he’s being nice and letting you cry in his kitchen and drink his booze. Everything about Mr. Neighbor screams PERPETUALLY NICE. Like he saves kittens from trees and walks old ladies across the street in his spare time.

“You don’t even know me.”

“No, but he’s the one that kept you around while waiting for someone else. Sounds like an asshole to me,” he says.

“He is an asshole,” you whisper like a secret. Mr. Neighbor smiles back and you remember you don’t know his name.

He tells you without a shred of judgment.

“Seokmin.”

“I’m YN.”

“I know,” he blurts. His ears tinge pink just before his cheeks. “You had a friend come over one time, she yelled it pretty loud.”

Lydia only had two settings when talking: loud, and louder. Seokmin probably knew a lot more than just your name but was too polite to mention those sordid details.

“So, Seokmin. My drama aside, why were you crying? Or do you listen to depressing music to pregame a wild night out?”

Seokmin nods at your offer to top off his cup and chugs half of it with a wince.

“It feels kinda dumb now but I volunteer at the city theater downtown.”

That explains the framed playbills and theater tickets splashed across the living room walls. A story of all the productions he probably attended or participated in. You only recognized a few of the names. Perpetually Nice, indeed.

“Did one of them dump pig's blood on you while on stage?”

“No, nothing like that.” His mouth unzips into an amused grin. It looks much more fitting than the tears from earlier. “The director won a month-long European cruise and now I’m in charge of the winter production.”

What do people even do on a boat for that long?

“And I’m assuming you don’t want to be the director.”

“I did!” he groans. “But everyone is already emailing me and calling me, trying to bribe me into giving them bigger parts. Have you ever dealt with theater parents?”

Shaking your head, Seokmin grabs your hand with wide, terrified eyes. “They’re like dance moms on crack. I can’t handle it. Not to mention - surprise! - there’s no money for it and I have to do all the fundraising myself.”

Instead of responding, you fill each cup with another generous shot, clink glasses, and swallow them in tandem. The burn is long gone. Now, you feel like you're standing in the ocean, bobbing at the mercy of the waves as he keeps talking about the theater. How someone held him hostage after a meeting for an extra thirty minutes trying to convince him they didn’t need to audition. Someone else proposed an original production of Dracula as a break from the holiday slush every other theater planned. It glides right over your head, until he forces a glass of water into your grip.

“Sorry about my music,” he says.

“Sorry for being a bitch.”

“It’s okay. I get it.”

“Your ex also broke up with you for their childhood best friend?”

“No. The last one broke up with me for her dog walker.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, well he’s bald now.” He shrugs and takes another swig. Water not whiskey by the lack of grimace. “She’s also trying to audition.”

At least you have the privilege of watching your ex’s new courtship through the filter of social media. Seokmin is watching it play out a few feet away from him with a constant reminder that his ex-girlfriend was onto seemingly better things with a man who picked up dog shit for a living. Small mercies.

“How long have you two…” you trail off.

“Three months.”

His tone makes it clear there is nothing else he wishes to share on the matter. You get it. Three months after Sam you weren’t ready to talk about it, still kept all the shared memories you two had together in one of the boxes shoved deep in the hall closet. It wasn’t until nearly eight months passed that you finally donated what you could of the gifts he bought you and threw the other half away. Now, you can laugh at the way you sobbed over the ugly monogrammed dish towels from your shared apartment. When his mom gifted them for your birthday, the first thought you had was to burn them.

“So what’s your play?”

Seokmin looks grateful for the swift change in topic. “A Christmas Carol.”

“Never seen it.”

“What?” he gasps. “It’s a classic!”

Below the counter, his knee presses firmly against your thigh. Seokmin doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because it stays there. Warm and grounded and all too tempting but you don’t move away either. A trickle of embarrassment heats your body when you realize you’re wearing the pajama pants Lydia got you for Secret Santa last year. The ones with cartoon gingerbread people fucking in small print all over them. If Seokmin looked down he’d see them in flagrante.

It didn’t mean anything but it felt nice. No way he saw your frumpy clothes and puffy face, crying over your ex and thought I want a piece of that. Typically, drinking only had two paths. On a normal night, you’d go from pleasantly buzzed to “wooo girl drunk,” as Lydia put it, then horny drunk shortly before falling asleep. Tonight, crying drunk meant no woo-ing and definitely no inappropriate thoughts. But Seokmin is the first real man to stoke a tiny ember of interest in months.

It’d be messy. Not the act itself. Maybe. You’re tipsy and he doesn’t look any better but a sloppy makeout wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. However, making out with your neighbor and then dealing with the fall out of such a clumsy entanglement probably wasn’t worth whatever his hands were capable of.

So you snuff it out.

You shrug. “Not really a big Christmas person.”

“I would invite you to come see it but at this rate I doubt we’ll even have a show to begin with.”

You discover that given the chance, Seokmin talks a lot. Shares his entire life story about moving to the city with a group of friends from college, most of them living with their partners. How he found the theater while on lunch break from his job that he didn’t hate but didn’t like. Started volunteering. Met Martha, now ex-girlfriend, there.

He also asks question after question about you, and somehow it doesn’t feel like he’s prying even though he hardly shares about himself. Probably because you’ve reached sleepy drunk and your eyes drop shut, responding while half asleep. You tell him everything. It’s not like you can embarrass yourself any further. But Seokmin doesn't make you feel the slightest bit of shame.

How you met Sam at a friend’s wedding and Carson was his plus one. How Carson’s boyfriends never seemed to meet Sam’s standards. How she was a little too friendly towards you but Sam swore Carson liked everyone. And from your experience, everyone liked her. Then, last Christmas, you stayed at home with the flu while the annual Phan/Spencer celebration took place and woke up to a nice heartfelt text message.

“That’s so fucked up.”

“Yeah, well what’s even more fucked up is his mom posting a picture of her with Carson captioned ‘the daughter I always wanted.’” you huff. “That really sucked.”

Seokmin doesn’t say anything. Not that he can. How do you comfort a stranger about a shitty relationship with even more beneath the surface?

Instead, you both sit in comfortable silence, locked in separate trains of thought. It isn’t until he messes with his phone and Celine Dion materializes into the room once again that you realize how weird it is to be sitting there, sharing woes with a complete stranger.

“Well, I’m just gonna…” you start, sliding off the bar stool.

“Yeah…”

You don’t look back, making a beeline for the door. “Have a goodnight! I hope you aren’t eaten by steroid fueled theater nerds.”

You’re in the hallway, lock latched firmly behind, before he can respond.

You don’t see Seokmin for another week. Not like you saw him much before but now you have a name to the face, along with hobbies and a personality. And his hands. Which don’t seem to leave your memory despite the desperate effort you put into doing so.

Even if you don’t see him though, you hear him on the other side of your living room wall shuffling around when you get home from work.

He keeps his sad playlist to a minimum, and his singing about the same, flat rumbles through the shared wall you can easily ignore. Sometimes you don’t. Occasionally, you’ll pause whatever Netflix dating show poisoning your brain and listen, eyes closed as your mind wanders.

You hear him humming as he passes your door on the way out to work in the morning while you sip coffee and answer emails from your kitchen counter. Sometimes it's showtunes you don’t recognize, others it's Christmas carols. Seokmin has a lovely voice you realize, now free from irritation. It’s weird you never noticed before.

Apparently, Lydia noticed him long before you did.

You finish telling her about the entire debacle with Sam and Carson. Lydia doesn’t believe in social media of any kind so all of her life updates come over Bananagrams and face masks during your semi-weekly Thursday girl’s night at her apartment.

“You just hang out with your hot neighbor drunk and don’t make a move?” she tsks.

“How do you know my neighbor is hot?”

“Unlike you, I pay attention to my surroundings.”

Part of the reason she deleted all her social media was because she wanted to be more ‘in the moment.’ This proves that maybe it actually worked.

Grabbing more letter tiles, you brush off the taunt. “Well, unlike you, I can keep it in my pants.”

“How long has it been since you let someone under the hood?”

“Not that long,” you grumble.

“Really?” Lydia rolls her eyes at the next word you spell, S-A-D.

“Shut up. It was the only one I could find.” You take another sip of hot cider. The hangover from last week's bender still haunts you. “Horny isn’t spelled with an ‘I’ or an ‘E’.”

“It’s been so long I thought you’d forget how it's spelled.”

A few hours and a couple of episodes of Temptation Island later, you're back home. The chilly air creeps into the mailroom, numb fingers struggling to unlock your mailbox. Bill. bill, catalogue, not yours, bill…

As the elevator carries you up to your floor, you find the last letter. A gold wax seal, velvety envelope. No. No, no, no, no, no.

But it is real and it’s exactly what you’re afraid for it to be when you rip it open right there in the hallway. The picture of Carson and Sam staring deep into each other’s eyes, love-soaked down to the finest details. His hand on her knee, both oblivious to the camera and not in the faux staged way of so many wedding announcements.

Michael and Dena Spencer along with

Jason and Zoya Phan

Invite you to celebrate the marriage of their children,

Samuel Spencer and Carson Phan

You fling the card away like a venomous snake.

What the hell is wrong with them? Is it not enough you were the collateral damage in their whirlwind romance? Now they go and rub it in your face how happy they are together. You were the last obstacle to make them realize they couldn’t live without each other, the catalyst for their happiness. And now you have a tangible reminder of the fact.

Thankfully, the hallway is empty so no one witnesses your mental breakdown. A silent stand off with a glossy wedding announcement. You’re tempted to leave it there, let Sam and Carson get trodded on until they’re nothing but limp confetti.

But you can’t. You snatch the announcement from the floor and bolt to your door, key scraping the lock again and again. You just need to get inside. Get inside and then you can go DEFCON 1, shred the entire letter and do something else rash like give yourself bangs you’ll regret in the morning.

The key still won’t find home in the lock and you’re on the verge of giving up when you realize Seokmin is singing along to some record just a few feet away.

You don’t know him well enough to go banging on his door. One drunken bitch session did not a friend make. Even if the drunk bitch session involved recounting life stories and embarrassing childhood moments. Or pajamas with gingerbread people fucking which he definitely noticed.

But you can’t be left alone with this bomb.

Seokmin is standing before you barely a second after knocking, eyebrows scrunched together. You shove the invite into his chest and wait.

“How does he have your address?” he asks.

You shrug. “I made him mail most of my stuff.”

“Why?” Seokmin turns back into his apartment, the door open in invitation as he falls onto the couch.

“Because he cheated on me. The least I could get was him paying three hundred bucks in shipping.”

“You are a very scary woman.”

You follow. This time, you notice more details. His record player is tucked in the corner, crates of vinyl stacked next to it. The candle burning on the coffee table fills the room with the scent of teak and orange. You recognize it as the same one Lydia got you for your birthday; ‘the boyfriend scent’ as she called it. Of course, he’d have it.

“Thank you.”

Now that you’re here, you’re not sure what to do. Seokmin keeps looking at the invite like some puzzle. Like some underlying explanation is written in invisible ink. There isn’t one. The reason for the invite is clear: your feelings don’t matter and they never did.

“I can’t believe they sent you a wedding invite. That’s so fucked up.”

“I’m probably gonna see all the pictures on Instagram soon anyway. At least, this ripped the band aid off. It just sucks they get to rub it in my face.”

“You still follow them, do they follow you?”

They do. Carson and Sam both follow you but you haven’t posted a single picture since the break up so it’s not like they’re reminded of your presence. Not the same way they remind you. There hasn’t been much worth posting either. You go to work, come home, shower, sleep, repeat. The occasional weekend at the farmers market or trip to the bookstore breaks up the monotony don’t inspire you to post.

“Why?” you ask.

“You want something to rub in their faces.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“Is there anything he hated doing while you guys dated?”

You laugh at the irony of the one thing Sam hated more than anything else. “He hated being posted on social media.”

“I have an idea.”

“Does it involve more Celine Dion and whiskey?”

“No,” he smiles. “It’s called a ‘soft launch'. One of the high schoolers explained it to me today.”

“Why are you talking to highschoolers about relationships? Actually, nevermind.” You snatch the invite away from his hands and flip it face down onto the couch. “And what is the point of me soft launching a nonexistent relationship?”

“He sent you a wedding invitation.”

“Okay?”

“So he’s either insane or isn’t completely over you. This is a way to show him you don’t care.”

“He broke up with me on Christmas while I was dying of the stomach flu. I don’t think he cares.”

Seokmin rises from the couch and heads towards the kitchen. “Do you want some wine?”

“Just water.”

He’s wearing the same costume as last week, sweatpants and a sweater. But his hair is a little wet and falls over his glasses. The look, the boyfriend candle, everything Lydia suggested… You should go home before making an idiot of yourself.

Seokmin returns with two glasses, places them both on the coffee table before tossing you a blanket. How can you leave now? It’d be rude. Besides, you want to find out where his offer is going.

“As I was saying: soft launch.”

“I still don’t understand where this is going.”

“You post it on your story, he sees, feels like a huge idiot, and then—”

“And then what? I don’t want him back.” But the thought of making Sam squirm is a validating one. Let him see you the way he’s forced you to see him. Happily moved on with someone else. Even if it isn’t real. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

It’s an easy photo. In theory. Nothing too suggestive, nothing that shows his face. But should you be touching? How much touching is appropriate for a man you’ve talked to twice? Seokmin doesn’t seem to know either. He searches the internet for inspo, some far too intimate for you to dream of. Sitting on his lap? Absolutely not. Having him hold you around the waist? No way. None of it would be believable.

“Okay, what about this one?” he asks after twenty minutes of scrolling.

On the surface, it’s nothing bad. The picture is relatively innocent with Person A’s legs draped over Person B’s lap, hand placed on Person A’s shin. Nothing crazy. At this point, you just want it over with.

“Fine.”

You wore semi-decent sweatpants this time so you don’t worry about that. It’s the entire premise of touching Seokmin so casually and having him touch you in return. But you take it in stride as you both maneuver and twist until you're a perfect copy of the already existing image.

Opening the camera on your phone, you snap a pic and hand it to Seokmin for approval.

“Eh…”

“‘Eh’? What does ‘eh’ mean?”

Apparently, ‘eh’ means Seokmin is wrapping his entire hand around your knee, the other hand on your ankle, and pulling you closer until your butt rests flush against the outside of his thigh. And then he doesn’t move either hand while waiting for you to snap a new picture. It feels like a thousand pounds.

When you’re done, he leans over to assess the photo and you’re stuck with the image of him hovering over you. The picture goes up on your story, embellished with a heart emoji and Seokmin leaves your space but only barely.

“Should I RSVP too?” you joke. It’s weak, your voice thin because you don’t know if he can tell your sweating.

He leaves even more space between you at that, scratching the back of his neck. “Ugh—”

“I wouldn’t actually go but I like the idea of them wasting money.”

“You know what? Do it. Did they give you a plus one?”

You jolt at the idea of Seokmin filling in the role. Focus.

Their wedding site is filled with Pinterest inspiration level engagement photos. You ignore the fact it’s at the park Sam took you to for your first date. You don’t own Emerald Park, or the fountain in the background of their pictures where you and Sam first kissed, and you certainly didn’t own the botanical gardens frozen around them as they walked hand in hand. Hundreds of other couples, you and Sam included, visited Emerald Park all the time. It just feels tacky they would do a full photoshoot where half a dozen of your relationship landmarks lay. But Carson probably owned those spots well before you came into the picture.

Once you hit ‘Yes’ on the RVSP, including your fake plus one, things peter out into awkward silence. You’re still draped over Seokmin’s lap, his hands absentmindedly running up your shin, smoothing the wrinkles in your pants.

Who gets turned on from having their shin fondled?

“How is your play going?” you ask.

“Not horrible.”

“But?”

“Our sets are old, we don’t have costumes and we open in three weeks.”

Seokmin seems to be in the acceptance stage of his grief. At least he isn’t wailing any more Now That’s What I Call Depressing music.

“So it’s not too late for that space idea then?”

He cracks up at that and you feel glowy from the sound of his laugh, the way his chest shakes. He squeezes your ankle. You preen. He still has his hand on your knee, thumb burning uneven circles through the thick fabric.

“I don’t know if anyone wants to see Scrooge in a space suit.”

“Who?”

Seokmin takes the question as a personal affront and decides you can’t leave his apartment without watching at least one version of A Christmas Carol.

You try not to read into things but there aren’t many explanations available. The TV plays the animated version with Jim Carry starring in almost every role which is apparently second only to the muppets version.. Seokmin popped popcorn. And when he came back to the couch, he pulled your legs back over his lap like it was normal. You’re rusty on dating but the amount of times your hand brushes his in the popcorn bowl is starting to border on ridiculous.

Instead of focusing on how this feels a lot like a date, you focus on the movie. Or try to. It helps that Seokmin remains unaware of your inner turmoil, he’s too busy gauging whether you hate or love the movie and looking for your reaction every time one of the ghosts appears.

The angle isn’t conducive to watching the movie either. You can’t turn without straining your neck, unless you pull away from his hold which you don’t want to do at all. And Seokmin is so focused on your reactions that he isn’t catching much of the film either.

He clearly loves it, and wants you to love it too. So you act extra interested but it’s not difficult because clearly he sees something spectacular happening on screen and it makes you eager to see it too. Even if only to distract from his thumb slipping beneath your sock and circling the knob of your ankle.

The movie fades to black, Scrooge is redeemed and your neighbor is watching you with bated breath.

“So…”

You smile at his eagerness. “It was good.”

“Isn’t it? It’s a classic.”

Something about his sheer enthusiasm tugs at your heart strings.

“I’ll help you.”

Everything in your body screeches WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Seokmin must think the same thing, face slack in disbelief. Too late, you’ve already committed.

“My company is always throwing money at stuff during the holidays,” you rush, face heating. “Maybe they could sponsor you guys to help with the sets or something.”

He keeps staring and you keep talking because you’re not sure if this crosses some invisible line. Unlike the touching, or the picture, or the ugly crying last week. Slowly, amazement rooted on his face. Even in your rumpled clothes, he looks at you like you’ve dropped nothing short of a miracle in his lap.

In a flurry of motion, Seokmin drags you into a hug, arms tight around your back, crushing you into his chest. The baggy sweaters you’d seen him in all of once hid firm ridges of muscle. You try not to indulge but your hands are wedged tightly between your bodies, and you’re practically sitting in his lap at this point.

And as fast as it happened, he lets you go and nearly flings himself off the opposite end of the couch.

“Sorry! I just—” His head cocked to the side. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated—”

“I love taking money from people who don’t need it. It’s one of the few joys in my life actually,” you say. “And if they don’t sign a check, we can always try armed robbery. Do you own a ski mask?”

He pretends to think before smiling. “Funnily enough, I don’t. But something tells me you do.”

“A woman never reveals her secrets.”

The next few days pass uneventfully. You hear Seokmin come home later and later, pointedly aware that you’re aware of his coming and going. Occasionally, when it’s still early, he knocks an odd rhythm on the wall separating your living rooms and you learn it's a summons. He wants to watch a movie, or share dinner because he made too much, or hear something about your day that didn’t involve a six year old attempting an accent for their character and sounding like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.

Even when you give him your number, he still knocks. Everytime you fight the urge to squeal like you’re back in high school.

The show is going as well as it can. People have their parts (with minimal complaining). Most of the costumes are free of mold (he sent you pictures wearing half the wardrobe). And Seokmin is maintaining his sanity. Barely.

In the rush of it all, you made a promise not to fuck where you eat. One messy break up requiring a move was enough for a lifetime. While Lydia took every update as another sign he was into you, the risk was too much. What if you misread everything? What if Seokmin wasn’t completely over his ex-girlfriend? She hadn’t come up again since that first night but that didn’t mean anything. At that stage of your break-up you hardly talked about Sam. Maybe Seokmin was still pining for her and you were just there. Or vice versa. He could see you were having a difficult time with the engagement and offered a shoulder to cry on.

Even worse, what if you did sleep with him and it was bad. So bad you could never look him in the eye again. Or he could have a weird dick. Or cry after sex. What if he secretly had a piss kink and that was the real reason Marta broke up with him? The lack of red flags only point to some flaw below the surface you hadn’t learned about yet.

Lydia thought it was ridiculous.

“I will bet my first edition Hobbit that his dick is completely normal,” she huffs through the speaker, the sound of her stationary bike echoing in the background.

Your Friday nights are usually spent curled up on the couch with wine and a movie but you couldn’t wait to give Seokmin the envelope containing a metaphorical golden ticket. The downtown streets are crowded near the theater where the entire cast and crew are spending the evening polishing up the existing set pieces but you brave it, if only to see the look on his face at the number of zeroes on the check.

“You just want me to sleep with him.”

“Is it so wrong I want my best friend to sleep with a nice, attractive man? Do you know how rare those are in this city?”

Your eyes roll. “He is my neighbor.”

“Your hot neighbor. Who has a normal dick and listens to Celine Dion when he’s sad.”

Something stopped you from telling her about the picture, and how Seokmin stayed cuddled up to you the rest of the night. Probably because you know she’d add it to the mounting pile of reasons to ruin whatever tentative friendship built between you.

You find a parking spot and bid Lydia goodbye.

The building lobby, with sleek marble archways and a dusty chandelier the size of your living room, is empty sans a lone security guard scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t try to stop you as you stroll right past and into the auditorium. You don’t want to be a creep that watches from the dark but the sight of your neighbor stops you in your tracks. To hear about his work was one thing, however, seeing him in his element is another.

He’s got paint all over his shirt and jeans and his hair is a mess from running his hands through it but he addresses the entire cast with confidence. Answers their questions, points the crew in the right direction, scans his binder next to someone with a headset who must be important.

Everyone is caught up in their work so they don’t notice as you approach from the aisles, footsteps muffled by the carpeted floors. You’ve never been here before but the history of the building isn’t lost on you. The walls and ceiling stretch high above, intricate moldings weaving up to frame large murals of greek-style motifs. The cushioned seats had seen better days. Red velvet crushed flat, ripped seams and stained with time. But it has a charm to it.

It was easy to imagine Seokmin finding home in this place. Losing himself on stage, spending hours and hours hidden away with a script.

He finally notices your presence when you approach one of the side stage staircases.

“And what do I owe the honor?” he asks, lips unzipping into a grin you can’t help but return.

You wave the white envelope in response, bowing comically low. “I come bearing a gift.”

“Is that—“

You nod solemnly, forcing it into his hands. “Open it!”

Seokmin stares at the envelope the same way he stared at you the night you offered to help him out. A small miracle in the palm of his hand. Your boss signed the check without question. It was a good look to sponsor local events, great publicity and a tax write off. The second you mentioned there were children in the cast and it was volunteer only he doubled the donation.

Seokmin opens the envelope, pausing to read. His eyes bulge. “Two grand? Are you serious?”

“Yep. All it took was the promise of two pages in the back of the program. So if you could get that message passed along.”

He hasn’t looked away from the check as a flush rises up his neck. “I’ll get their logo tattooed on my forehead if they want.”

“Tried that…” you joke. “They went up to two thousand with the promise you wouldn’t..”

“This is…”

You’re swept into a hug tight enough to pop something in your back. Too tight, with your arms wedged between your chests like the first time but you don’t mind. Seokmin is warm

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants, spinning you around.

You soak in the contact for as long as you can. Seokmin gives great hugs, better than great. You didn’t realize you craved the firm comfort of his arms until you had it once again and now that you do, you don’t want him to stop.

You notice someone watching over Seokmin’s shoulder. She’s pretty. Dark curly hair, button nose, big doll eyes boiling with indignation.

“Is that her?” you whisper into his neck.

“Her who?”

“Mrs. Bald dog walker.”

Seokmin loosens his grip just enough to look. “Yeah. Why?”

You bury your face back into the crook of his and give him a squeeze. Seokmin returns it instinctively, arms slug across the small of your waist like a puzzle piece.

“Marta isn’t the jealous type,” he whispers.

“Huh, that’s weird.” Your lips purse. “Because she just stormed off.”

Seokmin whips around to look at the now vacant spot where his ex-girlfriend once stood.

“Consider it as my thank you for the soft launch.”

“Did that actually work?” he asks.

You can’t admit you forgot to check if either Carson or Sam looked at your post. Coincidentally enough, you were too wrapped up in thoughts of the man before you to remember the entire reason he touched you so casually that night was for petty revenge and not because he actually wanted to.

“Who cares?” you bluff. “Anyway, I was thinking of another fundraiser. Maybe it can give you guys some money for some updated set pieces.”

They could definitely use it. One of the stagehands staples fabric across a hole in the couch so wide you’d bet money the next person who sits on it would sink straight through to the ground, another slathers a thick layer of white paint on a dry rotted board. What good are new costumes without good props?

“If you keep helping us out, they’re gonna have to change the name of the building.” Seokmin smiles down at you. His hand is still at the small of your back but even through the many layers protecting you from the chill you can feel the heat of his touch.

“I’ve always wanted a theater named after me. Like a Rockefeller or something.”

“So what is this idea?”

You gaze at him expectantly. “How many of your friends are single?”

It took little convincing for your plan. Seokmin turns out to be a bartender and his boss agrees to host it (pending a small cut of the proceeds), and several of his friends volunteer to help a good cause.

You’ve never been to this bar either but it somehow fits him too. Not a complete dive but cozy and well weathered. Multicolored string lights hang from the rafters so thick you can’t even see the ceiling, and posters, neon signs, and other decor obscure the walls. A low platform in one corner clearly meant for live entertainment becomes the auctioneer block with a banner strewn above reading THEATER FUNDRAISER in painted bubble letters.

Most of the people in the crowd are involved in the theater one way or another. Volunteers, cast and crew, a few parents coming for the drink specials and a show. A few outsiders mix in with the batch; regulars, people who saw the chalkboard sign on the street and got curious. Seokmin’s friends linger around the pool table in the corner, nervously shuffling around.

You’re on your way over to finalize the order when Seokmin and Lydia intercept you.

“Small problem,” he says.

“What?”

Lydia sighs. “Mingyu has a girlfriend.”

“Since when?” you ask.

“Apparently fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh,” you say. “Good for him.”

“Except we’re a man down.”

“I’ll do it,” Seokmin interjects.

Your gut curls. The idea of someone, not you, going on a date with him leaves a sour note in your mouth. But you’re not in a position to say anything.

But it doesn’t stop you.

“You can’t!” you blurt.

“Why not?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Lydia looks down right maniacal at your outburst. No way are you going to admit whatever feelings you have for Seokmin right now.

“Who is gonna be the host if you’re busy?”

“I’ll do it,” Lydia says. There’s a dare in her gaze. She can smell bullshit a mile away. “Unless there’s some other reason Seokmin needs to host.”

She bats her eyelashes with all the innocence of the devil.

“Fine,” you nod.

Lydia snags the mic from Seokmin and bolts for the stage. “Alright, settle in! Tonight we’re raising money for a good cause. So let’s get this show on the road, and remember—no refunds, no takesies backsies, and no funny business! We take Venmo or cash. No checks! Now, first up, we have Seungcheol!”

Seungcheol steps up to the stage, body lax as the crowd eyes him up and down. He was the first person to volunteer when you explained your idea – spawned from many sorority fundraisers in college – to Seokmin. The others followed suit shortly after, giving you six men in total willing to go on a date (no funny business) in the name of supporting the arts.

“Twenty dollars!” a woman in a dark jacket calls.

“At least let me tell you about him before going at him like a piece of meat!” Lydia jokes.

Someone else interjects. “Forty dollars!”

Lydia ignores her. “He enjoys camping, sports, and long walks on the beach,” she reads off the notecard. “And he can fix your car courtesy of Choi Mechanics.”

“Seventy five.”

People keep increasing their bids, Seungcheol clearly enjoying the attention as he jokes and winks towards the more eager ones. He’s preening while you and Seokmin watch in giddy amusement by the pool table, faces hidden in your drinks.

“Two hundred dollars!” someone near the back calls.

“Two fifty!”

“That’s Seungcheol’s girlfriend,” Seokmin whispers from your side.

You try to get a better look but Seungcheol’s girlfriend remains hidden at a table behind several others.

“Then why is he doing this?”

Seungkwan comes up beside you. “Because they’re exhibitionists.”

“Sold!” Seungcheol yells.

“I’m the one with the gavel,” Lydia objects. She pounds the gavel to emphasize her power. “Sold for two hundred and fifty dollars!”

Seungcheol drops a wad of cash from his own wallet into the bucket at the front of the stage and disappears into the corner of the room where his girlfriend waits. You make a mental note to avoid that side of the bar for the rest of the night, just in case.

The other guys go easy, thriving on the momentum of Seungcheol. Soonyoung gets a date with a woman old enough to be your mother but he looks positively thrilled. Even Mingyu stops by to drop a couple bucks into your hand as an apology. Then it’s Seokmin’s turn.

“He can cook, he’s good with kids, and he makes a mean mojito,” Lydia announces. “Give it up for our favorite bartender, Seokmin!”

The crowd has mellowed out but remains enthusiastic, regulars and theater people alike clapping as he comes forward. Even his boss behind the bar rings a large bell mounted on the wall reserved for good tippers. Someone wolf whistles and Seokmin goes red.

“Let’s start the bidding at thirty bucks,” Lydia says.

“Fifty!” someone calls.

By some feat of the universe, Seokmin transforms into a maroon faced mess.

You look around the bar and spot her at a table close to the edge of the stage. That ugly gut punch from earlier rears its head again at the gleam in her eyes, like she can’t wait to sink her teeth into Seokmin the first chance she gets. You don’t want Seokmin going on a date with her. You don’t want him going on a date with anyone.

Your mouth is open before you realize. “A hundred.”

Seokmin, Lydia, and just about everyone else in the bar whip their head in your direction. You refuse to look at any of them, staring down your competition as she raises her hand to counter.

“One fifty.”

“Two hundred.”

“Three fifty,” she says, smirking at you.

Lydia levels you with expectant looks. Seokmin watches you like you’re a wild animal, unsure of your next move. You’re in too deep now.

“Four hundred dollars.”

Your competition opens her mouth to rebut; however, Lydia is already swinging the gavel, “Sold! To the beautiful woman in the ugly sweater. Come get your man!”

Seokmin catches your arm before you can open your purse. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s for a good cause. Besides, think of it as a thank you for saving me from spending all my money on take out.”

He stares at you for a second too long, frozen in his own disbelief. You’re lying and you both know it but to admit that him going on a date with someone else, even for a good cause, made you jealous ventures over a line you’re not ready to cross just yet.

“Alright, that was our last man of the night,” Lydia announces into the mic. “Which means we’ve raised a whopping two thousand six hundred dollars for our local theater.”

Everyone cheers once again. The atmosphere is light but the bubble surrounding you and Seokmin is anything but.

He raises an eyebrow skeptically as you shove bills into the collection bucket, pointedly looking anywhere but him lest your face match the red of his own. It doesn’t matter though. You can feel the heat on your cheeks, the sweat at your hairline. Four hundred dollars to go out with a guy.

At least it’s for a good cause.

Seungkwan saves you from whatever questions Seokmin has, pushing his friend back to work behind the bar before cornering you into conversation.

“You,” Seungkwan says.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I’m having a pre-game at my house tomorrow night. You’re invited.”

“Oh,” you blink. “I’m not really a partier.”

“It’ll be a small thing. Most of the guys here and my roommate. We’re going to Jane’s after.”

“I’ve never been there before.”

Seungkwan stomps indignantly. “You’ve never been to Jane’s? Jane’s is a neighborhood institution.”

“I guess I never got around to exploring much,” you shrug.

“Why not?”

A creature of habit such as yourself, you rarely went to new places. You liked the places you already knew, the ones you didn’t have to guess if you liked. Besides, you hadn’t felt like going out much in the past few months, something always coming up including reasons, such as: you liked your apartment with cheaper drinks, less cigarette smoke, and no strange men trying to mansplain American Psycho.

Lydia appears at your side, new drink in hand. “Did someone say party?”

“It starts at eight thirty, but don’t come until nine. Seok will give you the address.”

Seungkwan disappears into the crowd, leaving you and Lydia hovering at the edge of the stage all alone. If there was one person besides Seokmin you didn’t want to be left alone with, it was her. But it’s too late to escape.

In the face of total mortification, you try to put on a brave face.

“Four hundred? Really?” Lydia asks.

“Shut up,” you mumble into the cup of melted ice.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I’ve met your friends before,” you snort.

Seokmin rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, but they can be a lot and that’s coming from me.”

You refused to let the car ride on the way over be awkward, plowing through whatever cobwebs lingered between you two. Luckily, Seokmin went along, recalling horror stories from Seungkwan’s yearly holiday pre-game. There was the year Soonyoung attempted making hot cider and gave everyone food poisoning. The year after where Mingyu ended up breaking the bathroom doorknob resulting in the fire department coming out to free him because he got stuck trying to crawl out the window above the shower. And most recently, Jeonghan – who you haven’t met yet – hid under the couch for the sole purpose of grabbing people’s ankles as they walked by; except he fell asleep and Seungkwan found him the next morning while cleaning.

Nothing you couldn’t handle.

“Well, if it's too much I’ll send you some code to leave.”

“What should I be looking for exactly?” he asks, lips quirked.

“I’ll start making ghost noises.”

Seokmin snorts when you start demonstrating. “But that happens so frequently. How about morse code?”

“How about I scream at the top of my lungs?” you grin.

“Works for me.”

Seokmin knocks against the dark wood door leading to Seungkwan’s apartment.

“COME IN!” Seungkwan belts, flinging the door open wide. “For me?”

You hand over the bottle of wine with flourish. Heaven forbid you show up anywhere empty handed, a habit hammered in by your mother. “For you.”

Seungkwan pulls you inside. “I like you more and more. Come on, everyone else is already here.”

The doorway leads straight into the crowded living room. You recognize Seungcheol, a woman his same height tucked into his side as they chat with Lydia on the couch. Coincidentally, she lives two floors above Seungkwan and Vernon and was thrilled to discover mailroom guy had a name and good taste in music.

You quickly scan beneath the couch for any full grown men and are mildly disappointed to find none.

Seokmin gets caught up in ‘hellos’ while you pad down the hallway after Seungkwan; into the kitchen where Mingyu stirs something on the stove. Cocoa and vanilla flood your nose, the warmth of the kitchen driving away the lingering chill from outside. Seungkwan puts the wine on the counter before pulling mugs out of the cabinets.

“What’s this?” you ask.

“Spiked hot chocolate,” Mingyu says. He adds a splash of peppermint schnapps to the pot and starts stirring again before pouring two mugs: one for you and one for Seokmin. “There’s whipped cream over there.”

You’re shaking the can of whipped cream when an arm reaches over your shoulder and pulls it out of your grip.

“Just say when,” Seokmin says.

He piles a comical mountain of whipped cream into your mug, and then a matching one on his own. There are sprinkles as well as chocolate shavings and you both artfully decorate your drinks with handfuls of each.

“I think we have more whipped cream than hot chocolate,” you say.

“There’s no such thing as too much whipped cream.”

You both take a long sip and when he’s done you choke. He’s got whipped cream on his nose, his lips, and his cheeks.

“What?” Seokmin asks.

“You’ve got,” you laugh. “Let me help.”

He stands perfectly still as you wipe his face with a paper towel. You’ve been this close to Seokmin before but with amusement instead of nerves clouding your system, you notice details you hadn’t before. The mole of his cheek. Two. One a little more pronounced than the other. Cute.

“Alright, all done,” you announce, finally noticing the way he stares down at you softly. So much for not having any nerves. “C’mon, I wanna see if Jeonghan is hiding under the couch before we leave.”

You lead him out of the kitchen, looking for anyway to cut the tension—

“KISS!” Lydia demands.

You scan the room for who she’s screaming at in an apartment full of strangers only to find her finger pointed straight above your head.

Mistletoe.

Mingyu barrels out of the kitchen to join in on the chaos.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” they all chant. Soonyoung cups his hands around his mouth and belts it loud enough your heart lurches.

“We don’t have to,” Seokmin whispers, cheeks and ears bright red.

“It’s fine.”

You plan for a quick peck on the cheek but Seokmin goes for his left while you go for your left and you’re not kissing but something dangerously close to it. The sticky residue of sugar and chocolate registers against your lips, a little bit of stubble missed when he shaved this morning. Barely a second of contact, just the edge of his mouth against yours but the world spins backwards and you nearly fall over.

As fast as it happens, you both draw back, staunchly avoiding eye contact but staying pressed close.

Seokmin wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you against his check. “You okay?”

His breath skims over your lips. The temptation to roll on to your toes and kiss him for real sends your heart racing. Your chin lifts. Seokmin looks at your mouth. And…

“Who's ready to party?” Chan calls, breaking the atmosphere.

The walk to Jane’s is nothing short of hell. Snow falls in thin sheets, frigid air sneaking past the lining of your coat and straight into your bones. In the middle of the pack you aren’t as exposed thanks to Seokmin to your right, Lydia on the other side, and a gaggle of the others walking in front.

Your hand keeps accidentally brushing Seokmin’s, sending a rush of pins and needles up your arm each time. You both pretend to ignore it.

The barren street outside the bar doesn’t hint at what waits within except for the dull hum of life sneaking past the door. It feels like half the city is packed inside, forcing everyone to slither past each other because there is simply no room.

Seungkwan wasn’t lying when he said it was a neighborhood institution. A stage is set up at the far wall, drunks belting their hearts out. Your group fans out to the bar, snagging drinks before taking the pilgrimage to a small table near the stage. Seokmin keeps you close the entire time. Guiding you to a seat, insisting on standing right behind the chair and talking to his friends over your shoulder.

You sag in your seat, content to soak in everyone else's conversations. The edge of your mouth still burns from the contact of the kiss, the same sensation everywhere Seokmin touches. You crave more. Like a sunflower searching for the sun. You lean against the back of the chair for a chance to feel his chest against your back. He doesn’t shy away when you do either. You can’t see his face but Lydia sits across the table watching with a pleased smirk.

“A toast,” Seokmin starts as the song fades and the next group to the stage. Someone wrangled a tray of red and green shots to the table and Seungkwan passes them around. “To Y/N. We wouldn’t have a show without her.”

“Yes, you would,” you correct.

“But we wouldn’t have new costumes,” says Seungkwan. “Do you know how old the costumes we were gonna wear are?”

“And we have new sets. We haven’t bought a new set piece in like fifty years,” Chan interjects.

Soonyoung speaks up next. “And I got a date!”

Seokmin slings an arm over your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. “You’re a miracle worker.”

Cheeks hot, you hide your smile at the bottom of the shot glass.

Focus shifts as Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan take the stage for “No Scrubs” the entire bar signs along to. They’re born performers. Soaking in every minute of attention, riling the crowd up until your ears go numb.

You try not to think of the almost kiss but it’s hopeless. Two drinks down and the only thing on your mind is the eclectic feeling on his mouth on your skin.

You’re so deep in your thoughts, you don’t notice Seokmin has come back to the table with a new drink for you until he’s nudging your shoulder with his.

“How do you like it?”

“Way better than the depression playlist,” you joke.

“Celine Dion is a classic.”

“Yeah, but after the first five times she loses her edge.”

Seokmin shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Blasphemy.”

Vernon and Seungkwan are singing Crazy in Love. Or, Seungkwan is singing and Vernon is head banging to the beat. Just watching makes your neck hurt.

Someone bumps into you from behind, sending you reeling straight into Seokmin’s chest.

“Woah, you okay?”

You nod into his chest but don’t let go.

The shots earlier were a mistake. Seokmin looks good under the neon lights of the bar, better with the swirly haze of alcohol. You want to kiss him so bad it’s embarrassing.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice husky.

When you look up at him, something dances across his face. There and gone before you can figure out what it is. Home sounds like a great idea. Better to lock yourself in your apartment where your mind can run wild before you do something stupid – like drag Seokmin into a corner to make out – in front of all your new friends.

You step out of his grip. “I can get home on my own. You don’t have to come with me.”

“I’m good to go. Promise.”

Not willing to brave a thirty minute walk home in the snow, Seokmin orders an Uber while you say goodbye.

Once outside, Seokmin wraps his arm back around you. Away from prying eyes, you let yourself indulge with the excuse of sharing body heat. Friends share body heat all the time. There is nothing wrong with a platonic penguin huddle.

Too soon, he pulls away as a car pulls up to the curb. “This is us.”

Seokmin makes conversation with the driver while you stare out the window as the city whips by. He’s just being nice, treating you the same way he would all his friends. Touching and almost kissing aside, Seokmin is your friend and you don’t want to jeopardize it with complications.

“YN?”

“Huh?’

“We’re home.”

You stumble through the cold, Seokmin hot on your heels through the lobby and into the elevator. It’s a fragile type of silence between you.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Night,” Seokmin says.

“Goodnight, Seok,” you murmur back, pushing open your door.

“Fuck,” he curses. “I left my keys at Kwan’s.”

“Should we call them?”

You invite Seokmin into your apartment while he tries to get ahold of his friends. Shinx offers timid emotional support by curling up in his lap, purring loudly as scratches under her chin. Now you’re jealous of a cat.

How dmbarrassing.

Calling proves futile. Seungkwan’s phone goes straight to voicemail and Vernon doesn’t answer either. He tries texting them with the same results.

“You can sleep on the couch,” you offer.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose.”

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re sitting in the hall all night,” you say. “Let me get you a blanket.”

In your room, you quickly change out of your bar clothes and into pajamas. It takes some time to dig out a pair of sweats and a tshirt that’ll fit Seokmin but you eventually find something for him. Snagging a pillow from your bed and an extra blanket from the linen closet. you head into the living room.

You force the clothes into his chest. “Here. Get changed and I’ll make your bed.”

A dark look glazes his face and for a second you think he might kiss you. Or you hope he’s thinking about it half as much as you are. But the moment passes. He locks himself in your room while you busy making the lumpy, itchy couch somewhat comfortable for him.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

You settle on Krampus. Neither of you have seen it but even after tonight you doubt you’d be able to recall a single detail. Seokmin pulls your legs over his lap like second nature, covering you both in the blanket, his hands resting on your shin. Choosing shorts over pants was a mistake. The heat of his thigh against the back of yours makes you squirm. The calluses on his palms scratch an itch leading straight between your legs as he rubs up and down absentmindedly, never trailing higher than your knee.

You’re shaking. His hand squeezes and you nearly heave.

“Cold?”

No.

But you nod anyway.

Seokmin pulls another blanket off the back of the couch, carefully layering it over the first, tucking you in tight before putting his arms back over your legs.

“You know, you’re a really good guy, Seok.”

“Thanks.”

It’s shameful. How bad you want to kiss him, for him to kiss you.

“I mean it.”

“I don’t know if it's true though.”

Instead of asking what he means, you lean closer. Then Seokmin does too. You’re too busy staring at his mouth to notice him doing the same. All your thoughts hone in on if he was as good a kisser as you imagined. And if you kissed him right now, would he kiss you back? If you touched him, would he touch you too?

Someone moves first. It doesn’t matter who because his nose nudges against yours, then you're swallowing his sigh, and you both practically melt at the relief.

It’s better than anything you could have cooked up in your head. His lips are soft, the rough pads of his fingers gentle as he tips your chin. You like it. You like him.

Your lips catch on his bottom lip by accident but it's the first domino to topple into a chain reaction. Seokmin’s lips part, your hands bury in his hair. His thumb hones in on the strip of skin between your top and your shorts. You maneuver into his lap, fingers cataloguing the expanse of his shoulders, his neck. Back into his hair. Close as you are, it isn’t close enough. You arch into him, dragging your lips across the line of his throat when his head falls back.

His hands are everywhere. The small of your waist, the base of your spine, lifting your shirt until it’s tossed to the floor and your topless in his lap, shaking with anticipation.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. His eyes lock on your nipples, tight from just a few light touches.

Seokmin pulls you back down, kissing you slow and heavy while his hands touch you with gentle reverence.

Clothes come off. The borrowed sweater he’s wearing reveals so much skin you don’t know where to start. But Seokmin doesn’t let you linger too long because he’s taking off your bottoms until you’re completely naked. Seokmin eases his body over yours, heavy between your thighs.

A particularly harsh pass of his hips pulls a wire down your spine, back arching painfully, moaning at the ceiling.

“Ha,” you waver under his teeth, his tongue worshiping your chest, leaving broad strokes you imagine will feel amazing on other parts of your body. Head tipped back, you display yourself openly for him to touch and tease.

“Take your pants off,” you beg.

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay,” he says, mouthing against the sensitive spot below your jaw. His smile is clear. “We don’t have to do anything.”

You make a sound between a whine and a grunt. You want to have sex with him. Right here, on your shitty couch. But you aren’t willing to take the risk, no matter how badly you want it. Even if he does have a weird dick which you doubt based on the feeling of it against your naked cunt.

“You think my dick is weird?” he asks, half shocked and half amused.

“No! I—” you scramble. “I don’t think your dick is weird.”

“But you’ve thought about my dick?”

“I’m not supposed to.”

Seokmin grins, clearly amused. “Why not?”

“Because you’re my neighbor.”

“Oh.” He rushes to rise off you, kneeling between your spread legs. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

“I do want to. That's the problem,” you whine.

He hums in acknowledgment, body shaking with barely suppressed giggles.

You thrash. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not, I've just…never had someone be so eager.”

He kisses you like he’s the eager one, tongue tracing your bottom lip until you welcome him in with a lewd suck. It only lasts for a second before he’s back down your chest and then kneeling in front of the couch, nuzzling the meat of your thigh while his fingers stroke against your wetness timidly.

“Is this okay?”

“Yep!” you choke. “Great.”

Your legs verge on numbness from being bent in half for so long but Seokmin keeps finding those spots that make it worth it. You need something to hold onto; his hair, the cushions, your own breasts. Seokmin seems to love that the most. Grunting into your pussy as he watches with reverence as you play with yourself.

“Taste so good,” he rasps. “You’re so hot.”

Fingers thrusting, Seokmin strings you out. When he crooks the digits buried deep inside you, your back breaks in half. The hand pinning your waist down holds tights, the lean muscles flexing in your view.

“J-just like that,” you hiccup.

He never falters. Seokmin does exactly as you ask until you curl and come wet and hot on his face with a cry. It’s not until you push him off that he stops completely, rubbing the mess of his fingers on his pants and crowding you back into the couch cushion to taste yourself off his tongue.

You moan against his mouth. “Wanna taste you.”

“I’m good.”

“I want to,” you beg.

“No like—”

You paw at his crotch only for the enticing hardness to be absent. He’s soft. Confusion furrows your brows for a brief second until the rosy tint to his cheeks registers.

Seokmin hides in the crook of your neck, sigh ruffling your hair as he gets cozy in the warm space and allows his nose to trace the curve of your shoulder. “It usually doesn’t happen like that. I don’t—”

“That's so hot,” you mumble. The heat of his body combined with an orgasm and the last bit of your blood lulls you closer to sleep with every second.

Seokmin tugs your shirt back over your head before pulling you close, his bare chest against your back, legs tangled beneath a quilt. Pure content tickles across your senses, followed by the warm drag of sleep.

Seokmin is gone by the time you wake up.

Shuffling from the couch into the bedroom, you accept he probably left early to get his keys from Seungkwan and didn’t want to wake you. Your head pounds in time with your pulse, stomach turning at the thought of getting off the couch. Thank God he didn’t try to wake you. There’s nothing less attractive than wanting to lay on the floor and wait for the sweet release of death.

The second time you wake up is to the sound of Shinx shredding a scrap of paper at the foot of your bed.

“You bastard,” you groan.

A set of large eyes stares back at you for a moment, before she meows and gets back to work on her kill. You nudge her off the edge of the bed with your foot. She bolts for the living room while you hide back into the pillows until it’s dark outside once again.

When you start feeling human enough to shower and eat, you check your phone. A text from Lydia and a few other notifications greet you but none from Seokmin. Not a call, or a text, or anything. Complete radio silence.

You hear him come home, the shuffle of his feet down the hallway and the slam of his front door. But there's no singing; not even so much as a hum. No knocking on the shared wall. You can’t hear a single thing from his side even when – embarrassingly – you press your ear against the wall like an eavesdropper.

It’s like that for days.

Seokmin leaves his apartment after you get home. Or when you come back from work you hear him rush to turn down his music like he wants you to believe he’s out. He’s avoiding you. And you don’t know why.

You’ve thought about trying to catch him in the act; waiting by the door and popping out to ask him what his problem is. But you’re not sure if you want the answer to that question. He probably regrets kissing you. He definitely regrets kissing you if he's acting like this. But you don’t want to rush to conclusions either. The show opens Friday night and being director requires all hands on deck. Seokmin probably doesn’t even have time to brush his teeth let alone think about whatever it is between you too. Add the fact the actor for Scrooge broke his leg just before the auction and the only person comfortable enough with the role is also directing, he’s under a lot of pressure.

But none of the reassuring thoughts get you to leave the house the night of the show.

It wasn’t as if you had to be there. You helped fundraise but you weren’t cast or crew so your attendance was optional, even if there were two tickets waiting for you at willcall. Missed calls and texts rack up on your phone screen. Lydia, Seungkwan, Chan… But none from Seokmin. You should have turned your phone off to avoid the fall out from ditching.

Instead, you accidentally pick up Lydia’s call.

“Where are you?” Lydia screeches through the speaker. “The show's about to start.”

“I’m…I’m sick.”

You even fake cough but Lydia doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“Get your ass down here or I swear to god I’ll drag you by your hair.”

“Why would I go? He hasn’t talked to me all week?”

“So? Who cares!” she huffs, “You worked really hard to make sure this all got done. They wouldn’t have costumes or a set without everything you did. Forget Seokmin, come see it for yourself.”

“I—”

“Listen. Whatever happened between you two happened. But don’t let that chase you away from this. We can plot revenge tomorrow but tonight you should celebrate how hard you worked to make this happen.”

“Alright.”

You race to dress somewhat appropriately. Sweater, leggings, and a nice coat are all you can manage if you want to make it before intermission ends. It’s a miracle you’re not pulled over for speeding or running through yellow lights at the last minute but you get downtown in record time.

The street outside the theater is quiet, fog rising from the damp pavement. Through the glass doors into the theater, people mill about. You missed the first half of the show but there’s still time.

Lydia waits on the steps, exhaling a foggy breath when she finds you. “Thank god.”

“How's it so far?”

“Good. I can’t believe I’ve never come to one of these before.” She types furiously on her phone before locking it and tossing it back into her purse. “The costumes look so good.”

The theater is packed to the brim, the lobby practically bursting at the seams as people chat through intermission. The costumes look better than good and so do the sets. Seokmin plays a more than convincing Scrooge, even better than the ones you’ve seen in the million movie versions of the play you’ve watched together. There’s no way he can see you with the bright stage lights but more than once it feels like he’s staring right where you sit, looking for someone. Looking for you.

Your eyes remain glued to the stage, unable to blink just in case you miss a second. It's dizzying watching him perform, as if you're staring up at the sky for too long and starting to feel unmoored; like you can't look away, can't accept that something so captivating exists.

After another hour, the lights go up, the cast take their bows. Without warning, you’re blinking into a harsh spotlight.

“Stand up,” Lydia whispers, prodding your side.

“What the hell is going on?”

“This production wouldn’t have been possible without Y/N. We’re so thankful for someone like her.”

You smile awkwardly and wait for the clapping to die down as the spotlight moves back to the stage. The second it's over, you’re up the aisle and into the lobby.

Straight into Seungkwan, who is subtly guarding the door like he knew you’d run at the first chance.

“You’re coming to the after party, right?” he asks.

Other people start filtering in from the auditorium. Maybe, you can lose him in the chaos and go home.

“Of course she is,” Lydia interjects. Her arm weaves through yours, a firm threat that she’ll drag you if she has to.

The after party is for cast and crew of legal drinking age at Jane’s. Lydia and Seungkwan ride with you, another silent threat looming in the air. They chat the entire way, undeterred by your silence. It's nice having friends that care but all you want is to hide under a blanket on your couch and spend the rest of the night crying while Shinx watches you with unveiled disgust.

Outside the bar, you promise one drink, claiming that you really are sick and want to go home. Which might be true. You’re off kilter, head spinning, stomach twisted into untangleable knots. But that might be because you can hear Seokmin’s laugh as you enter and your muscles twitch to dive beneath a table until he leaves.

You manage to find a stool in the corner. Even in an attempt to remain unseen more than half the bar stops by to thank you; crew members you haven’t met or cast you’ve seen in passing. Lydia stays by your side throughout, a steady presence as you lose yourself in the party. You can almost forget who is floating around the outskirts of the bar like a ghost.

“Vernon sent me to ask if you want to play pool,” Seungkwan says to Lydia.

She sends you a sideways glance. Not asking for permission but like you’re a kid she can’t leave alone.

“Go,” you say, brushing her away. “I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t leave without telling me.”

“I’m leaving right now,” you tell her.

“Fine,” she sighs. Then she pulls you into a hug. Lydia isn’t a hugger, in the years you’ve known her you can count on your fingers the number of times it’s happened. “But you should clear the air before you go.”

“I live next to him. There are plenty of opportunities.”

She gives you an extra squeeze, fully aware you’ll continue pretending he doesn’t exist until everything smooths over and you and Seokmin are back to neighbors who tolerate each other's existence in fragile silence.

Which would work if the second you turn around to leave you don’t run straight into him.

He rubs the side of his head. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say. “Can we talk?”

He nods before turning to leave the bar, not waiting to see if you follow but you do.

The party inside the bar echoes out onto the snowy street. It seems no one else is crazy enough to have an overdue conversation in a snowstorm, but better here than anywhere else. At least after Seokmin lets you down, you can run back to your apartment and pretend he doesn’t exist anymore.

Seokmin stands a few paces away, barely illuminated in neon signs and string lights strewn across the street. You aren’t drunk, not even tipsy. Alcohol would make this conversation worse but it’d take the edge off your nerves and dull a little bit of the cold.

You shove both hands in your pockets, unsure what to say now that you have him all alone.

“The play was good.”

“Thanks. Next time you’ll have to see the first act.”

It comes out like a joke but you can feel the vitriol like a bucket of ice water. Ouch.

“I—”

“If you’re not over your ex it’s okay,” he winces. “We can stay friends.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Sam. You still have feelings for him. It’s fine if you do, I get it. I’m not mad or anything I just thought…”

“I am over Sam.”

“Well, congrats on getting over him I guess,” Seokmin shrugs but his grin is forced. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“Are you serious?” you scoff, venom stinging the tip of your tongue.

His face glazes with annoyance. “What else is there?”

“Why did you leave?”

“I had work.”

You want to smack to frown off his face.

“But you didn’t text me or leave a note. I woke up and you were gone and then didn’t hear anything from you.”

“I did leave a note. You iced me out,” he argues.

“Where? Because from where I’m standing you left as soon as you could and then ignored me like it never happened.”

“My phone died so I left a note on the counter. And you never texted me or anything so I thought you were trying to let me down easy.”

He left you a note. The shredded paper on your bed…

“Oh my god,” you gasp, ire evaporating. “Shinx.”

“Your cat?”

Laughter bubbles out of your throat, so thick you choke on your next words. “I think she ate your note.”

The realization hangs in the air, Seokmin froze as your words sink in. He stares at you for a moment, still recovering from the absurdity of it all, before he finally exhales a long breath.

“I thought she liked me,” he whines, face lit up with the beginning of a smile.

“Shinx is loyal to no one.”

His body meets yours, like cards precariously leaned against one another to prevent a topple as you both shake with laughter. The cold of the street disappears in the warmth of his touch.

“You’re not that kind of guy. I know that. I shouldn’t have—”

“I could’ve texted you after I went to Kwan’s,” he interjects.

“I could’ve called you.”

Seokmin’s gaze roams across your face. “How about we start over?”

“I’d like that,” you smile, closing the scant amount of space left between your bodies.

“Me too.”

Your lips brush against his, the faintest contact sending a storm of butterflies through your stomach. You’re both smiling too much for it to count as a real kiss but neither of you seem to care. His hand slips around the back of your neck, holding you closer just for a moment longer.

Seokmin convinces you to stay at the bar for a few more hours. He holds your hand, keeps you under his arm, looks at you after each joke to make sure you’re laughing too. Seokmin is nothing like Sam. You’ve known that all along but the fear lingered and you refused to acknowledge it. He’s someone you actually could fall for if you let yourself.

He might hurt you but the potential for something great outweighs the bad in spades.

As the night drags on, you end up closer; sitting on his laps, his hands protectively wrapped around your waist. His chin hooks over your shoulder and you lean back against him. The slow burn between you roars to a boil when you trace mindless shapes against his palm, Seokmin’s breath shaky in his chest.

“Ready to go home?” he whispers huskily. His breath rushes down your neck, goosebumps bloom in its wake.

You shift closer – the seam of your jeans only further worsening your arousal – and nod.

Once outside, you’re tangled in each other once again, limbs indecipherable. The sudden chill of midnight air has you turning back into his chest, the arm previously on your back curling low on your waist. Seokmin orders an Uber and immediately focuses back on you the second he can. You catch a text on his screen before he can lock his phone. Seokmin holds you the same as before but it’s different this time. You’re both waiting for the damn to break and the flood to wash away whatever tension lingers between you.

[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: do not fuck this up

[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: lydia said she would kill you and i think she’s serious

The cab ride home is a blur. You’re focused on not scandalizing the drive while Seokmin keeps a hand firmly on your knee, perfectly proper if it wasn’t for the grit in his jaw when you return the touch just high enough for your pinky to graze his zipper.

The second the car stops, you throw the door open and pull Seokmin out and inside the lobby, straight to the elevator where he grabs your waist and uses the leverage to kiss you with so much heat you sweat.

He tries pressing you into the wall but you beat him to the punch, crowding him into the corner, front flush with him from head to toe. Seokmin groans, pushing back as you grind over his thigh. One of you pushes the button to your floor.

When the doors open, he gains the upper hand. Tugging you down the hall, he bypasses your door and goes straight for his own. He fumbles with the keys from the way you suck at his pulse but after a few tries he succeeds, pulling you inside and pressing you into the wall of the hallway.

“I like you,” he admits, rushing to unzip your coat and stuff his freezing hands inside, curling them against your waist. “This isn’t just sex.”

You nod dumbly. “I know. I like you, too.”

“And we should – hmmm – go on a date sometime.”

“Okay,” you rasp.

His thigh slots back between yours. All those memories of his mouth and fingers rush to the forefront, teasing you with the fantasy of Seokmin on his knees right here, eating you out next to his front door.

He presses hard against your core, fingers tracing the seam of your pants. Your hands reach beneath his shirt; pulling, squeezing. Nails digging into his tense stomach with each bump against your covered clit.

“Seokmin,” you whimper.

You're pulled off the wall. A trail of clothing is left in your wake to his room. Hats, coats, sweaters, undershirts. Seokmin manages to keep his pants on but allows you to unbutton them for a weak handjob over his briefs.

“God,” he exhales close to your ear.

In all the nights you two have hung out you’ve never been in his room. You try to take in as many details as possible but Seokmin dedicates himself to driving you insane with his lips on your neck, gently nipping and sucking until you shiver.

If you had any foresight this was going to happen then you would have at least picked matching underwear. But he seems thrilled as he crowds you into the bed.

His mouth replaces his hand, lapping at your nipple, completely disregarding the fabric of your bra, before sucking it into his mouth. The hand that was on your chest dips beneath your panties. Fingertips circle your clit, gliding through the wet mess, dipping shallowly inside you.

Your hips rut into the touch. You want more. Need more. And you know Seokmin can give you what you need.

You guide his mouth to your neglected nipple, pushing the cup out of the way and arching as he gives it the same attention. “Please.”

“I got you,” he promises.

Seokmin melts down between your legs, kneeling at the side of the bed; one on his shoulder, the other pressed up your chest. Your hands bury in his hair as he licks a long strip up your core. Each pathetic sound fleeing your lips is rewarded with a deeper curl of his fingers, a harsher lap of his tongue. He leaves wet kisses on your thighs, spreading the mess of arousal and spit before diving back.

You squeeze tight on his fingers. “O-oh, oh fuck.”

Your hips stutter into his mouth. It washes over you, muscles clenched so hard it hurts. The way your heels dig into his back must hurt too but you don’t care. Neither does Seokmin. He doesn’t stop as you claw at him, following that inferno scorching through every tissue, begging him to keep going until you wilt into the sheets.

The ceiling comes slowly into focus, dots floating across your vision. You’re sweating despite the chill hanging in the air. Thankfully, Seokmin blankets you in his heat as he kisses across your hips, then your sternum, then buries his face into your neck. Your shivers have nothing to do with the cold.

“Wow,” you pant.

Seokmin’s face cracks into a tired grin. Fatigue ghosts over the room but you're not done yet. The weight of his cock between your legs demands attention, and you’re all too eager to touch him.

He doesn’t object when you push him onto his back, or to the trail of soft kisses down his front, allowing you to mark up the smooth expanse of his chest and belly how you see fit. You savor the warmth of his body with each touch. Allow your fingers to gently wash away each press of your lips and warm him up for what's to come.

You suck the head of his cock through the fabric, teasing him with your tongue until the taste of pre-cum floods your mouth.

He sinks into the bed. A hand finds its way into your hair, unsure if he wants to pull you off or sink deeper into the heat of your mouth, even if it is just a tease. You tug his underwear out of the way and continue torturing him. Thrilled by the way his stomach tense with each desperate whine from the way your tongue traces every ridge.

He gently guides you back and forth, taking the strain off your neck as you take more and more before he pulls you off. “Wait, shit.”

“What–”

“I was gonna come,” Seokmin explains, pulling you up his chest to drop placating kisses against your chin.

“That’s okay,” you smile. “I want you to.”

“But I want to fuck you.”

“Next time?”

“Fuck yes, next time,” he pants as he rolls you on to your back.

He keeps his mouth on yours, tongue sliding hotly against your own while blindly searching for a condom in the bedside table.

Your hips angle and so do his, a little wiggle and then he’s inside you and it ruins your life. Just the first inch seals your eyes shut, vision filled with stars. You can feel everything; full in a way you’ve never felt before.

Seokmin draws back timidly, allowing you both to watch the way your body takes him so easily.

Somehow he manages to rock deeper, stretch you at just the right angle. Surges right into that spot that curls your chest tight with rough fluidity. The muscles in your thighs are at war with whether to spread wider or squeeze around his waist.

“I wanna ride you.”

There are so many things you want to do with him. To him. But you start with this, taking command of his lap, sinking back on his dick with another tight stretch; glowing as Seokmin watches slack-jawed.

“God, you’re perfect,” he praises.

You fuck yourself on him, knees digging into the mattress as you grind back and forth and all Seokmin can do is watch. A loose grip on your hips as his face glazes over. Your thighs cramp but the way he looks against the pillows, hazy around the edges, hair flat at one side and wild on the other, encourages you to finish what you started.

“Touch me,” you beg.

His neck goes red, ears too, when his hand wedges back between your thighs. “Wanna see you come again. Fuck, you’re so pretty when you come for me.”

Your hips cant wildly, stuttering under his free flowing praise. Too full, too much. You nearly scramble off his lap to snatch at your sanity drifting away.

He kisses you gently, sweet praise ghosting over your lips. “That’s it. Just like that.”

You’re not even moving. Seokmin works your clit raw, fucks up into you with limited motion as you choke on another orgasm that leaves you wet at the eyes and the room spinning.

“U-ugh. Fuck,” you shiver, collapsing into his chest.

“Can,” he chokes. “Can I—”

An imperceivable dip of your chin and Seokmin rolls you back over and flattens your thighs open; hard rushes of his hips, stomach taunt.

“Come for me. Want you to come inside me,” you sigh.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he chants as he shakes beneath your hands before slumping over.

You rebound faster than Seokmin; he’s almost snoring against your chest as you rake a hand through the tangled mess of his hair, melting under the weight on your lips against his hairline.

“You’re pretty when you come, too,” you tease.

He swats your hand away, rising off you to dispose of the condom in the bathroom before rushing back into bed to clean you with a washcloth. When he’s done, he throws it into some forgotten corner of the room where the rest of your clothes hide and dives under the covers with you in tow.

Your limbs lace with his, all nude skin on skin.

“I would like to take you out for real sometime,” Seokmin whispers.

“Good thing I have a four hundred dollar date to cash in on.”

“You know,” he smiles into your cheek. “You could have asked me for free.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @/miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

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@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @wobblewobble822

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@aaa-sia @tinkerbell460 @gyuhao365 @ourkivee @bokk-minnie

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@melonacco @lllucere @wwjagabeee @syluslittlecrows @yourbimbohope

@whrryuu @wonrangwoo @xchaenx @champagnenoona

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jjenthusee · 1 year ago

Text

Moonlight And Intentional Mistakes

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: This is inspired and dedicated to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes amazing post linked here (show it some love) and their numerous sweet words especially on my Broken Mug writing drabble (also linked), so after crying reading their messages, i had to do something about the intense rush to write and the best way i can think of thanking you is by doing what i know, art and writing. i had no idea that i was influencing anyone, i only hoped my love for Jason was communicated correctly. i hope every single one of you that comes across my account has beautiful things happen to u. i’ll give u all a million kisses. please continue to write, i would love to continue reading what u have for us next <3 there’s also a surprise at the end :D (as always comments are appreciated if you’re comfortable <3 let me know your brain rot thoughts) ENJOY

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, soft Jason, touch starved Jason lowkey, siri play Never Grow Up by Niall Horan 😔, might have inspired the direction of the fic

Word Count: 3.4k

The moon was high.

Moonlight had casted a faint glow on the window blinds, it peaked in through the tiny gaps.

Only a small lamp was on, cascading light from the living room into your room. It gave enough light to see the outlines of your room. Bathing everything it could touch in a faint warm glow.

It was still dark enough that the details were too fuzzy to point out, but most objects were wrapped in shadows, bringing a unique calm to your room.

In the chill of night, the bed was warm. Jason was the perfect heater. The blankets were cozy and the sound of a fan whirred at the corner of the room.

It didn’t make sense covering yourself head to toe in a fuzzy blanket with a fan blasting air at you, but the sound mellowed you into the night, calling slumber closer to you.

It would have been easy to sleep if you were given the chance, but your gentle giant boyfriend was adamant to prove to you that he needed to sleep as physically close as possible to you.

It would have been fine, but today you couldn’t find a relaxing sleeping position. You had to shift your body around before finding the state of mind and the right amount of comfort to drift off, but tonight was difficult. Not only were you constantly shifting in the bed sheets, you were keeping Jason awake.

As your body moved to a new spot on the bed, Jason followed. Turning his body to follow the heat you left behind on the sheets. He wasn’t fond of the fact that a blanket fully engulfed you while he didn’t, it wasn’t fair.

When he got close enough to throw his muscular arm over you, you beat him to your next journey across the mattress.

If the queen bed the both of you were laying on looked like a college dorm twin XL with Jason laid out over it, then you shouldn’t have cornered yourself onto the edge.

Now half of your body dangled off the mattress. The bed was definitely big enough for the both of you the last time you checked, but with Jason getting closer to you every time you moved, it looked like he teleported a smidge closer when you blinked.

It also wasn’t ideal when he rolled onto the corner of the blanket that had unraveled from your legs.

You teetered on the end of the bed when he purposefully made sure to take up ninety percent of what was left of the mattress. Locking you on the edge, wrapped in a blanket.

You had been laying on your side, but Jason kept nudging you, tickling your face with his messy hair when he got close enough to attempt to burrow his large self into you. You kept scooting back, but once you didn’t feel anymore mattress, your legs were feeling where the cold air invaded the bed.

Now you settled on the dangerous edge with one leg completely off. Despite your avoidance of Jason, your free leg locked around Jason’s leg for any support to keep you safely on the bed. Your entire upper half was swaddled like a baby as the blanket blocked out any of the chill, your arms completely smushed against your sides with no way to free yourself besides Jason moving his body off of the edges of your blanket.

You had no control whatsoever.

It was you and your straining leg on Jason that was the only thing keeping you from plopping on the cold floor. Now in a vulnerable position, did Jason have the bright idea of asking the question you’ve been avoiding all day.

Where were his pudding cups?

———

“I take it back!” You pleaded with Jason as he kept the blanket tightly wound around you, preventing you from moving your arms to retaliate.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jason playfully faced at you, laying on his side. His voice melted with innocence, but had underlying amusement.

Your blanket was your savior and your enemy as it saved you from the hard floor, but it was also securely caught by Jason’s entire weight. He had you completely trapped inside with only your head and legs poking out, the fabric slung around you.

Moving his body an inch closer to the edge, Jason pushed your body further off, further with no support beside his mere weight and strength keeping you from falling.

“I swear there were two pudding cups before you left!” You screamed, your hair falling off your face, the ends gravitating toward the ground, your impending doom.

“Sweetheart, let’s play world’s greatest detective and I’ll ask you something. If I didn’t eat ‘em and we are the only two people who live in this apartment, then who do we have left? Hm?” Jason’s voice, honey sweet, as he emphasized the contradictions in your statement.

With the blanket bunched in his hands, Jason easily lowered you slightly, juggling your weight effortlessly while laying on his side. You cursed at his perfect athleticism.

The room may have been dark, but you didn’t need the moonlight to know he had a shit eating grin trying to get you to confess.

You felt like this was probably the closest you would feel to people walking the plank in those pirate movies you watched as a kid, a sick waiting game not knowing when your fate was inevitable. It was fun at the time and maybe the cold ocean was different from your bedroom floor, but otherwise it was still cold.

“I don’t even like sweets!” You playfully laughed as he teasingly let his hands slip, clearly seeing through your lie. You squealed as you felt your head dip and your leg fall from on top of Jason’s.

“And my hand slipped.” Jason equally lied through his teeth, his threat filled with no malice whatsoever as he securely held onto you.

“I’m starting to feel like this has nothing to do with pudding cups.” You raised your head back up to look at Jason, a full smile present on your face, testing your vulnerable state.

“Oh?” Jason raised his eyebrow as he looked down at you from the edge of the bed. The angle looked great on him.

“My world’s greatest detective intuition is telling me that you’re just mad that I kept rolling away from you.” You mischievously pointed out.

“My love, you need to use those skills to find out why all our pudding is gone.”

“Do you do this to all the criminals you interrogate?” You deflected, using your eyes to point to the current position both of you were in, dangling from the bed in a blanket while Jason kept you there.

“Only the pretty ones.” Jason sung, pulling you up slightly so you weren’t as close to the floor, not quite on the bed, but in a better spot than before.

“I didn’t realize the Red Hood had such malicious threatening techniques.” You shook your head feigning disappointment as you struggled to readjust your leg to latch onto his again. It probably looked awkward, but you were desperate. It wasn’t your fault that your boyfriend was built like a tank. “I promise to not rob anymore banks anytime soon. I’ll straighten myself out. Scouts honor.” You breathed out, exhausted from the movement.

“Just admit you ate the pudding and I’ll erase everything. Your speeding tickets and the bounty on you in 15 countries.”

“It’s 18 actually, don’t defile me—“

Jason effortlessly lowered you again. The blanket slipping slightly from jostling you around.

“Okay, okay!” You cried out. “If I fall you’re limited to two kisses a day!”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Three, take it or leave it.”

“Tell me where the pudding is.”

“Four kisses and you can cuddle suffocate me when we sleep.” The blanket around you felt noticeably loose.

Jason scoffed, offended by your choice of phrasing.

“If our lives are ever on the line, I gotta remember I can’t ever let you negotiate.” He tauntingly called above you. “And I don’t cuddle suffocate you.”

“So it was ‘cause I moved away from you earlier!” You cried out as you slipped further. The blanket loosening completely around you, your gasp blurring into Jason’s name. A plea to catch you.

Jason quickly bent down, rolling his body off the bed and slipping his arms around you as he followed you to the floor. He rolled his body forward enough to quickly shift your position so his body plopped on the ground first while you landed on top of him.

It was a soft landing as you laid on his chest. Quickly finding a comfortable position in his arms.

“You only get one kiss a day.” You flatly said. “Why is our bed frame weirdly tall?” You nuzzled your head into his chest.

“Our deal was two.” Jason tenderly caressed your head. Moving your hair in motions that made you want to fall asleep.

“Looks like we’re both liars.” You barely whispered, sleepiness taunting your body.

“I guess you’re still wanted in 18 countries.”

You lazily laughed into Jason, his body slightly shaking from your movement. His arms wrapping around you, engulfing the feel of your laughter and locking it between your bodies. He smiled into your shoulder. Smelling your comfort.

You lifted your head, freeing your face. You were still being held by Jason, but you had a clearer view of his loving gaze lost on you as he traced your features, entranced by your smile.

“Missed opportunity.” You drunkenly watched and felt Jason’s fingers caressing your face.

“If you let me ‘cuddle suffocate’ you, you might have another shot.” Jason’s thumb rubbed your cheek, pressing into the softness. His calloused finger pads feeling slightly itchy, but you would never pull away, too endeared by how gently he treats you.

“Worth it.” You say after snapping out of your trance that was locked on your boyfriend. He knew the right areas to get your mind lost on his touch, focused solely on him.

You pulled yourself up from laying on top of Jason, grabbing for his hands as you stood. Straining to help pull him up, but almost all the effort came from his own strength, not yours.

Playfully, Jason never let go of your hands and let his body be dragged completely onto you, dramatically coming forward to rewrap himself around you.

You giggled as you threw your arms around him. Enjoying the warmth that radiated from him, reheating the once empty space. Your own personal heater. You were glad tonight was one of the nights he stayed home with you, cuddled in bed all evening. You tried your best to soothe his mind, away from the thoughts of patrol as much as you could.

Giving his mind a small mental break, to hold you close and whatever else he needed. Both of you continue to work hard to develop and maintain the kind of trust that Jason needed to work through the hard days, silent but never alone.

With reassuring hugs while he counted your breaths, holding onto your hand just to thoughtlessly memorize them, standing in your presence just to observe you.

His difficulty with readjusting to the mundane and useless tasks of every day life was the biggest challenge. Too many conversations about why we need to treat ourselves because we want to. Jason’s mind was filled with too many needs.

He needed a reason to buy himself something, he needed to push his body to the limits because there was no other option, he needed to work alone.

So you showed him that he didn’t need you to hold his arm while you walked around the city, but he wanted you to do it.

He didn’t need you to take care of him, but you wanted to because you cared.

As you lost yourself in the shared closeness, you swayed your body. Jason unconsciously following your movements, swaying with you and letting his hands intertwine behind you, letting it gently rest against your lower back. Once you held on, Jason had silently vowed to never be the first to let go.

As you moved your bodies, clueless about Jason’s promise to himself, you didn’t let go either. So the two of you clung to one another.

It was one of the millions of things you cherished about Jason, he showed his devotion through his mannerisms. He helped put away your bags after a tired day of work, when he brought you a blanket if you fell asleep on the couch then carried you to bed. He bought your favorite snacks if he was at the store. He effortlessly followed you, content to be next to you.

Of course, he still put up limitations. He wouldn’t put your safety at risk. He sat closer and became more aware of restaurant doors, he kept you walking on his side or always in front of him, when he slept he made sure to determine the layout that suited you best, away from the window. His eagerness to make sure your wellbeing is priority.

It led to him not sleeping once you switched your position too many times tonight. He wasn’t satisfied with you being closer to the window, but he also was determined to get you to cuddle.

Numerous times you wanted to tease him, but after a Red Hood reveal that had you debating if he collaborated with his brothers to pull a twisted prank on you and an emotional talk, you couldn’t blame him for any of it. The fitted suit was just an added bonus you could outrightly ogle at.

You two were standing, holding each other in the dark. His head nuzzled on the base of your neck, his hands gripping your shirt, crinkling at the desperation. Sometimes Jason felt overstimulated when his feelings were ready to burst. His unfamiliarity with so much tender affection makes his mind unable to process all of it.

All you can do is to tell him that your there. Reminding him that you were unwilling to go anywhere.

“I’m here, Jay.” You softly reassured. “I’m right here, in your arms.”

Jason was unaware of the same silent promise you prayed to yourself, to never let him go.

When Jason’s grip loosened, your lips softly kissed the side of his head, soothing the thing that gives him a hard time. Repeating the motion, feeling his breaths even.

You never said that you were limited to how many kisses you can give him.

As you methodically swayed and with one final kiss against his hot skin, Jason shifted himself to standing taller, resting his forehead on yours. His hair laid flat against your skin.

You closed your eyes, enjoying how docile he became once you initiated physical touch. A craving he wanted and you unconditionally gave him.

When you opened your eyes, adjusting to the darkness, you grabbed one of his hands to intertwine them, your other hand gently falling onto his shoulder. He noticed the familiar stance, mimicking that of a dance. He silently rested his free hand on your waist, once again feeling the fabric of his shirt that you wore.

There was no music, but you leaned into Jason once again, swaying to the rhythm of his heartbeat, slow and in tune with his breaths. The further closeness let you settle your head underneath his chin, his hand following around the width of your waist pulling you in more.

Everything felt perfect. It was the middle of the night in the dark, you wore pajamas, no music played, both of your hair messy, but you held Jason. A sweet grasp of his shirt bunched in your hand, your feet bumping into his, the smell of your soap radiating from his skin from his shower.

If this was your last day on Earth, you would think you were blessed to be in front of the most loving, tender man. Watching his eyes softened and sparkle as he feels a breath of peace.

That was all you needed.

In an act of surprise, you moved your arm to wrap around Jason’s waist and attempted to dramatically swoop him back. It was haphazardly done, but he gladly played along despite the difference in height making it a little awkward. He dipped back then came forward, reuniting your embrace, both of you laughing at your clumsy attempt at a slow dance.

“Why does this feel like an awkward school dance?” You breathed out, breathless from the laughing, talking into his clean shirt. Most likely you were taking it to wear tomorrow night.

“We’re just swaying, we aren’t really moving how we’re supposed to.” Jason rubbed your back as you caught your breath, his voice softly surrounding you as you rested on his chest, feeling every word.

“And how would you know?” You looked up at him, a teasing tone. “It’s not like either of us know how to slow dance.”

Jason paused, looking down at your eyes, contemplating.

“Would you like to learn?” He hesitated, combing his hand through your hair.

You completely stopped swaying, Jason’s hand dropping from the top of your head to rest on your cheek. He carefully watched your reaction, your eyes widening, a stunned look in your eyes.

His grip tightened, barely noticeable if you didn’t feel his thumb press on your waist, helping to remind you to respond.

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You looked down toward your feet, slightly feeling the embarrassment creep up at your confession, but Jason rubbed his thumb on your cheek. A silent comfort. “But, I don’t have a reason to learn. I’m way past school dance age, I rarely go to events where it might happen, and…no one has ever asked me.”

A silence settled between the both of you, Jason’s thumb pausing. He looked between your eyes, glancing back and forth.

“Can I get my phone?” He asked with no explanation, no other detail leading to your earlier confession.

You felt the mortification creeping at you. You nodded, letting go of Jason.

He stood there until you removed yourself first. His grip fleeting, walking in the dark to grab his phone, illuminating the room with its screen where he stood. You curiously watched him, not quite understanding his intentions.

“I might be a little rusty.” He voiced, a broad back facing you.

A gentle melody played from his phone. Quiet, but getting louder as he pressed the volume button on the side of his phone.

“What?” You stood there awkwardly.

Jason turned to face you, throwing his phone on the night stand as he walked back over, raising an open hand to you.

“May I have this dance?”

He stunned you again, your brain having too many delays at once.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to meet his. You couldn’t respond to his question because your throat ached, ached in a way that you wished the world ended right there, to consume the pounding heartbeat in your ears, the firm grip of Jason, and attempt to swallow up all the love swelling in your heart. It would put up one hell of a fight.

Once the both of you met, bodies close, Jason repositioned your hands as it was before. Gently guiding you through the steps as you nervously looked at your feet, your tense body adding to your struggle.

Once you felt a decent rhythm and Jason patiently assisted you, memorizing your expressions, movements and the smile you beamed when you finally felt comfortable.

He grabbed your chin. Guiding your head back up to look at him. Bringing his head closer to yours.

Your eyes closed halfway before he gripped your back, dipping you back, holding your weight as you inhaled in surprise.

“Jason!” You laughed his name as he swung you back up, extravagantly twirling you from him, clasping your hand to twirl you back into his embrace.

“Rusty, huh?” You quipped, eyeing him, trying to stabilize your steps.

“What can I say, Alfred beat the movements into me. He would feel a shift in the air if I got it wrong.” Jason smiled, picking up the swaying again, enthusiastically moving both your bodies.

You continued dancing through laughter, not watching your feet as much as you were, letting the feeling of the music guide you.

Not knowing where your body and his separated, a beautiful blur.

How could you have missed out on something so sweet?

A dance shared between two individuals who adore one another.

Jason stamped another mark onto your life.

First dances laced with intertwined hands, lips brushing against one another, tuning out everything but each other’s voices.

Maybe the world did end, but you wouldn’t have known, too immersed in the moonlight on Jason’s skin, the warmth of love and home enveloping you.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #writing #what i would give to learn to slow dance with jason #imagine growing old with jason and continuing the slow dance tradition #screaming #art

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earlgreydream · 2 years ago

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SAVIOR. | Kylo Ren x reader

Some enemies to lovers(?) on Mustafar, for my love, @little-diable

for @little-diable's 15k celebration ... Kylo Ren, Smut, Page 66 ..... „The air felt hot and dusty.” From The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires

cw: dubcon

Mustafar.

You were naive to think you could escape.

The air felt hot and dusty, choking you as you ran through burning trees. It felt like every nightmare you’d ever had — the ones you couldn’t wake up from, knowing you were prey with nowhere to run. Your heart slammed in your chest, pulse echoing in your ears as your wild eyes darted around, desperately searching for an escape.

Limbs of trees reached out to scratch you as you ran through the forest fire, everything a haze of red. Desperation to outrun those who scorched the planet made you fearful, knowing there was no real escape.

“You’ve got nowhere to run, rebel.”

The words echoed in your mind, not spoken aloud, but directly to you, through a divine power. Invisible hands halted your attempt to escape, slamming your body into the ground.

Kylo Ren watched you fight to breathe as you inhaled the dust, unable to escape the grasp of his force. He towered over you, face-to-face for the first time since Coruscant, when you were still undercover as a member of the First Order.

“Don't do this, Ren,” you hissed, staring up at the supreme leader, who had burnt down the planet and everything in it just to catch you.

“You’ll be made an example to anyone who dares to defy me,” Kylo swore, the hot blade of his lightsaber singing just inches from your throat.

Your chest heaved, wild eyes watching Kylo, waiting for his red fire to cut through you. The summer heat filled you with dread, watching Kylo stand over you with hate in his eyes.

Coruscant.

Things were different, then. What transpired only months ago seemed to be an entirely different life, lived by someone else. In a sense, it was.

Coruscant was the mission you never wanted. When you’d dedicated your life to the resistance, you didn’t anticipate being sent undercover to infiltrate the First Order. You wore the mask of an enemy, blending in and becoming someone else until you forgot who you were entirely.

The objective was simple: move your way up in the First Order, and gain the trust of Kylo Ren. Your mission was to gather intel to feed back to the resistance; when your commanders had assigned it, they pictured you sitting in meetings, taking notes on the outskirts of Kylo’s militia. At the time, the Jedi order thought they could trust you, and you thought you could trust them. Before Coruscant, you had no idea of the power you possessed, the power the rebellion kept a secret from you.

When Kylo Ren first laid eyes on you, the plan crumbled to dust. The moment you stepped into the throne room, you could feel it — the pull of the force pricking the edges. Kylo felt it too, your heart beating in sync as he failed to pry into your mind like he did with every other being.

“Leave us.” The command to the knights was sharp, the room clearing until you were the only one standing before him.

“Where have you come from?” Kylo Ren had once seemed menacing on his throne, adorned in a crimson glow. Now, his expression was pure curiosity, gazing at you with startlingly disarming eyes.

“Naboo, master Ren,” the reverence came naturally, and you found yourself lowering to your knees at his throne.

“It is an honor to serve The First Order,” your voice sounded foreign on your lips, speaking words you never intended to say.

Kylo reached forward, tilting your chin up until he held your gaze, studying every detail of your unfamiliar face. He was captivated by you, your mystique raised curiosity, not alarm. Nothing happened on his ship that he didn’t know about, but you, a young soldier from Naboo was unexpected.

“You wield the force?” He questioned, puzzled by the inability to tear apart your thoughts.

“No, master.”

“But you can, padawan, you’ve just not been taught,” Kylo answered, having no knowledge of the crack he’d sent through your alliances.

The Jedi order would have recognized the great power you possessed, even as you didn’t recognize it in yourself. Your gifts had been kept a secret, but here was Kylo Ren, a man meant to be your enemy, offering truth and guidance you were deprived of. The resistance and its leaders had deceived you, a betrayal far deeper than a political alliance. They had kept you from destiny, fearing that the ability to wield the force would lead you into darkness, having no idea you would one day learn to harness your power from the ruler of the Empire.

“I can show you the ways of the force," Kylo’s voice was smooth, pulling you to his outstretched hand, an invitation to leave everything else behind and stand at his side.

You didn't recognize yourself in the reflection of Kylo's eyes. Instinctively, you took Kylo's outstretched hand, letting him pull you to your feet.

"You have had no teacher?" Kylo questioned, the two of you standing in an empty room in the Star Destroyer.

He looked so different out of his suit, more relaxed in simple training robes. Here, Kylo didn't seem to be the menacing overlord that you'd once saw. With you, he was different, an attentive and guiding master.

"No," you shook your head, confliction slowly eating away at you.

The more hours you spent learning from Kylo, the less you wanted betray him. Your alliance to the order you'd spent a lifetime fighting for was broken, and now you sought solace in him. Your allegiance to Kylo bloomed as your abilities grew, and the hard walls around him slowly came down, letting you in. Even as he opened up about who he was, you kept the secret of your origin, praying every night that he didn't have to find out.

Your lost soul found a home in Coruscant, lines blurring between you and Kylo as you spent intimate hours meditating and practicing. His hands that were once your waist to position your body, guided you until you found yourself pressed between Kylo’s strong body and his mattress.

The first time Kylo took you to his bed, he was tender, attentive to your pleasure. As your addiction to him grew, so did the constant need for one another. You begged Kylo to fuck you with his hand around your throat, bending you over the closest surface because you couldn’t get enough. Every second with Kylo was sexually charged, craving him like a drug. He was your teacher, your solace, your lover, and your savior — before you knew it, Kylo became everything to you.

Kylo Ren changed when you entered his existence. He had never experienced a love like you, constantly starving for your touch.

In a year, everything fell apart.

You’d long forgotten the Jedi, your allegiance, and your mission, until the day they invaded Coruscant. What you would never be able to forget was the betrayal on Kylo's face when they called you their commander. You could no longer run to your savior, nor to your fellow jedi, so you ran away, alone, to Mustafar.

Mustafar.

You wrists were held behind your back with imperial binders, and you were completely naked - save the collar that Kylo had clasped around your throat. You glared up at him from your kneeling position at his feet, chest heaving as you struggled against his force keeping you still at his mercy.

Part of you yearned to throw yourself at him, begging for forgiveness, explaining to him that you had abandoned the resistance to follow him. You ached to tell him that every night you spent in bed with Kylo made you fall more in love with him, that you'd rather perish than live without him another day, but the words died in your throat.

Your words would do no use anyways - Kylo had made up his mind to make an example out of you, to humiliate you before the entire First Order.

Your skin burned as you felt the eyes of his knights on your body as they filed into the room, taking their places around the table. You couldn't hide from them, your sins and entire self exposed to those you once ruled over.

"Our little rebel traitor is going to pay for her sins," Kylo's voice was ice cold, sending a shudder down your spine.

Instinctively, you leaned back into Kylo's legs, subconsciously searching for shelter. He grabbed the back of your neck in one of his large hands, hauling you to your feet, dark eyes blazing down at you, starvation and thirst clouding his judgement.

"Get on the fucking table, now," he growled, manhandling you onto the cold metal surface, your wrists above your head as you laid spread out.

"Since you'll sell yourself to the jedi and the empire, my knights can have you as well."

He sank back into his throne, draped lazily over the armrests, legs parted to reveal how hard he was just from the sight of your nude form dripping on the table.

You strained against the binders on your wrists, hating yourself for how wet you were just knowing Kylo was watching, the knights pulling your legs apart as one knelt between your legs.

You helplessly watched Kylo as Vicrul's hands wrapped around your soft thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your sex, pulling a pathetic whine from your lips. You hated him for it - hating him for making your hips raise, begging for more as he ate you out, sucking on your clit and pushing thick fingers inside of you. Your muscles contracted around you, other knights groping your body, playing with your nipples and gagging you with their fingers.

Meanwhile, Kylo watched, freeing himself from the black trousers that hugged his thick thighs. You watched as he stroked his cock to the sight of you, fighting not to come immediately from the filthy noises the knights pried from your parted lips.

You ached for him to fill you, your cunt throbbing with need, despite the overwhelming touch of the knights, ripping orgasms from you despite how hard you fought against it. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying out to him, calling his name as your back arched off the table, gasping for air.

Your ears were ringing, and all at once the knights retreated from you, exiled from the room by Kylo. He stood abruptly, dark robes falling from his shoulders, his strong body fully on display for you. You felt the binders release your wrists, and you pulled your limbs to your body, trembling on the cold table.

"I didn't betray you," you rasped, knowing Kylo could read your mind, prying through your thoughts and your memories, allowing him in.

He said nothing, approaching you slowly. Kylo grasped your jaw, holding your head up, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"You will never run from me again."

"Yes, master."

Kylo's lips were hot and heavy against yours, pulling you into his body, kissing you violently. He'd had every intention to take you back to his chambers, but the second you touched, he couldn't resist, climbing over you on the table in his throne room.

His hand hooked under your knee, pushing it to your shoulder, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance. He ignored your whimpering pleas, taking his time, marking your throat with his lips. All the air left your lungs as he finally pushed inside you, much bigger than all of the knights who had violated you only moments before.

Your back arched as he split you open, pressing your chest to his, your hands pulling his thick black hair. He bottomed out, his hips pressed against your ass. Kylo hushed you, wrapping an arm around your torso before fucking you at a blistering pace. It was desperate and violent with need, tearing you apart for leaving him, and putting you back together all at once. You felt his velvety skin drag against your walls with every thrust, Kylo using the force to circle your clit so he could keep both hands on you.

His skin was slick with sweat, black hair sticking to his forehead as he moaned, biting your shoulder and burying his face in you, his thrusts stuttering as he filled you until cum was spilling out and smearing between your thighs.

"I'm not finished with you," he panted as you sank back into the surface, trying to catch your breath.

Kylo flipped you over so he was lying on his back, your knees on either side of his wide hips. You could barely hold yourself up, muscles shaking as you leaned over him.

"Kylo, I can't—"

"Ride me." He commanded, leaving no room for argument or protest.

He reached up and wrapped his hand around your throat, holding you up as you rolled your hips, feeling his cock twitch inside you, moving easily despite your trembling thighs.

"Look at me. Watch yourself take your master," Kylo's other hand lightly smacked your cheek, prompting you to open your eyes, holding his gaze for a long moment.

You wrapped your hands around his wrist for leverage, thankful his other hand was helping your hips, before obeying his wish. Your gaze fell, watching him disappear inside your body every time you sank down, feeling him set fire to every nerve ending in your body, your limbs screaming for release. Kylo held your weight, guiding you to finish until you collapsed on his chest, aftershocks shuddering through your weakened body.

"You'll have to earn back your place at my side," he tilted your chin up, dark eyes showing the slightest bit of mercy.

"I'll do anything," you breathed, chasing his mouth for a kiss.

"Start by getting on your knees."

#little-diable15k #kylo #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo smut #kylo ren x reader smut #kylo imagine #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfic #star wars #adam driver

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marsupials-of-mars · 5 months ago

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I think billford fans every once in a while should step back from the emotional turmoil of the "Sometimes...I miss him. and i hate myself for that..." (which is very very good and fun) and examine some very interesting elements of canon which I think are overlooked in favor of angst.

Namely, the fact that there is NO indication at any point that Ford ever looked back. As in, once he found out about the betrayal, he never once (in observable canon) considered it an option to return to Bill. He had no regrets when it came to the falling out. He had regrets about what led to it, but "bill you lied to me! where does that portal really lead?!" Were his first words after the fight, and "ill stop you! I'll shut it down!" were the second. Barely even addressing the betrayal.

From the first paragraph of TBOB post-betrayal, his entire focus is on stopping armageddon, while repeatedly telling Bill via writing that he plans on DESTROYING him. He is unresponsive to ANY attempts to "talk". He is ready to KILL INSTANTLY.

Which brings me to Bill. Because i think BILL was expecting none of this. Bill expected anger, but he saw it as an emotional obstacle. Because he DID NOT KNOW/UNDERSTAND STANFORD. The two of them are, in reality NOTHING ALIKE.

The "hes the only one who's ever understood me" was almost entirely projection on both sides. Ford was being lied to, the friend he knew never existed, and so why would he care about Bill? To him, Bill basically killed his friend and spit on his grave. He mourns that friend, but why would he go to his murderer for comfort?

Bill is stupider, because Bill knew he was lying. Bill knew that the version of Ford he was relating to and falling in love with DID NOT KNOW WHO HE WAS. He projected his own wants and desires on Ford, all while keeping them secret. because as long as he never gave Ford the chance to disprove their connection, who's to say his wants and desires weren't the same, in a way, deep down? He thought ford was a mad morally grey freak scientist (Which is a common fan interpretation and valid, but canon bill is not in the fandom, he is trying to fall in love, so his differing opinions are unfortunately invalid).

While Ford is a freak, drawn to the strange and often evil, often has trouble with empathy and street smarts due to his impulsivity, wanted a fictional deer to kill fictional deer because he felt excluded...He isn't morally grey. I need people to understand this. Ford is a HERO. Ford is always doing what he thinks is best for the world at large. He found out he'd made a mistake, and dedicated his life, without ANY question, to fixing that mistake.

Bill made a severe miscalculation. Because the betrayal was not a LYING issue. the issue wasnt pretending to be someone he wasn't. the betrayal was an APOCALYPSE issue. While Bill may have objectively known Ford would dislike the apocalypse, he didn't realize it would be an instant dealbreaker. But Ford got the ick. it was over for him the moment he learned the truth. it wasnt even a "betrayal" to him, for the most part. It was "There is a villain trying to end the world, and I need to stop him"

(TL;DR: for Ford, in canon, anything that was or could have ever been between he and Bill was dead and buried the second he knew the truth. He is the hero, and he must destroy the villain.)

#bill cipher #gravity falls #the book of bill #book of bill #billford #stanford pines #ford pines

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muletia · 6 months ago

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The collar post got me acting up, alright Optimus put on the dog ears!

No but actually I just know that type of play would be therapeutic for him. No more angsting over the perversion of his infatuation and the impossibility of your relationship, not when he has proof of your enthusiastic ownership over him shamelessly wrapped around his neck. No more stressing about all that comes with being a prime during an eons-long war, not when he's busy being your precious, brainless, little lap dog instead.

All he has to do now is think of you and the pleasure you so generously bestow upon your most obedient mech. What else could he possibly ask for?

pet play optimus my beloved

You explained very well why I think it suits him so much. Not only do all the duties, burdens, and obligations tied to being Prime cease to weigh on his shoulders when he enters sub-space, but he also has absolute certainty that he belongs only to you. Most importantly, you’re aware of it too. He has absolutely no objections to being treated as your pet if it means you give him attention and want to use him.

Dignity? Thrown out the window. He doesn’t need it when you’re stroking his helm, praising how beautiful he looks in his collar and what a good, obedient mech he is for you. The only sounds he can make are whimpers, begging to show you how good he can be. Will you let him? He wants so badly to please you. For greater effect, he’ll rest his helm on your stomach and start pleading because he can’t take it anymore. But he’s so submissive, he’d never start satisfying you without your permission, even if his spike is unbearably painful, twitching constantly and demanding release.

All it takes is one word from you. Permission, and Optimus buries his head between your legs, demonstrating how much he loves you <3

If it were up to him, he’d be your pet 24/7, dedicating himself entirely to bringing you pleasure and thinking about you endlessly. The collar you gave him is like a sacred object to him, one he puts on every time he has a moment of solitude in his habsuite. Being yours gives him freedom, which is why he gets so excited every time it’s time to wear his precious collar <3

#be silly #transformers x reader #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #obsessed!optimus #valveplug

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marybatson · 6 months ago

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BILLY BATSON WEEK 2025

It’s that time of the year again! 2025 marks the 85th Anniversary of Billy Batson as Captain Marvel debuting in Whiz Comics #2, the first official cover-dated issue released February 1940.*

A brief history In December of 1939, children at newsstands were picking up a particular issue with the cover of a flying man dressed in red, effortlessly lifting a car overhead. Bill Parker, senior editor at Fawcett Comics during this time, had developed a new kind of superhero: Billy Batson is a young orphan boy who transforms into a powerful champion named Captain Marvel at the drop of the word “SHAZAM!” He fights crime against notable villains together with a memorable cast of heroes he calls “family.”

A few years past their heyday, Fawcett Publications endured troubling legal problems that put their sales in jeopardy, eventually settling their dragging copyright case with National Comics Publications (predecessor of modern-day DC Comics) and putting Captain Marvel to rest indefinitely. The Captain’s return to comics happened in late 1972 under DC Comics, a run which the original artist C.C. Beck had worked on for only a year. Ever since, Billy Batson and his counterpart have appeared in many different iterations in many different comics, one of the only memories still enduring from a time already passed.

NOSTALGIA

The role of an archive is to make nostalgia obsolete. [...] Every comic book page is, like a work of scholarship, an act of recovery, or at times a dream in which nothing is ever lost, as past, present, and future make room for each other and exist in harmony. Studied carefully, a fanzine or a comic book, like Billy’s Historama, might reveal several lifetimes to us, one generation after another of names, faces, and stories. The art of nostalgia is figuring out which one to tell next.

— Captain Marvel and the Art of Nostalgia, Brian Cremins

This year’s overall theme is NOSTALGIA. Take this as you might, for however you interpret nostalgia—perhaps a reflection on your own personal narrative with Billy Batson, or an exploration between him and his own massive history, be it in-universe or with real life pop culture. You might even disregard the day-to-day prompts below and dedicate yourself to nostalgia thematically for the entire week! How you’d like to work with it is up to you.

Day 1 ☆ February 23, 2025 HOLY HISTORAMA

The Historama, similar to a crystal ball, is described as Shazam the Wizard’s “super-television screen,” of which he may use to see the past, present, and future. In later iterations, it presents itself as a book or object that displays any scene through time and, possibly, space. On this day, you might center the Historama itself, or explore any scenes of Billy’s history from any time or place.

Day 2 ☆ February 24, 2025 THE BOY OF ARTHURIAN LEGEND

Bill Parker, when asked to describe his inspiration for Captain Marvel, once said, “Specifically I got it from the Stories of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, stories with which I had been familiar and read as a child.”

At its core, the story of Billy Batson as Captain Marvel was a story about old wizards, spells, myths, and secrets—elements which children center their greatest fantasies and perhaps still carry with them throughout adulthood. Use this day to commemorate Billy Batson as a fulfilled fantasy, maybe as a knight facing dragons in some faraway world or a space-wandering sailor, the wildest childhood dream come true.

Day 3 ☆ February 25, 2025 SWEET HOME FAWCETT

This prompt is simply Fawcett: Fawcett Comics and their previous publications, possibly outside of Captain Marvel and friends, or Fawcett the city as depicted in the DC Comics iterations, home base of Billy and Captain Marvel.

Day 4 ☆ February 26, 2025 RETURN OF THE CHAMPION

Across his storied history, Captain Marvel has faced many setbacks in his journey back to comic book stands: previous lawsuits and settlements, harried DC Comics events, logistical decisions made behind closed doors. However many times he’s put on the back burner, Captain Marvel still manages to return in a triumph. We will see him again in fleeting appearances, celebrated homecomings, maybe a long-awaited reunion...

Day 5 ☆ February 27, 2025 THE WORLD HE LIVES IN

It is of note that, while Fawcett Comics held onto its hero as long as they could for the first few years, the DC Comics universe is where Billy and the Captain have held their home—for over fifty consecutive years. Use this as a day to reflect on Billy’s past DC universe adventures, from teams he’s been on to events he’s partaken in.

Day 6 ☆ February 28, 2025 A MARVELOUS FAMILY

Billy Batson’s not the only one with a candle to blow. Mary Marvel debuted in 1942, while Captain Marvel Junior had appeared much earlier, in 1941. Their contributions to the stories of Captain Marvel have been monumental in immortalizing his place as a beloved hero with weight and history. They are also deeply adored by Billy himself. Have this day to celebrate family, for each Marvel Family member who has added to the menagerie over the years, or to simply center Mary and Freddy and their own achievements.

Day 7 ☆ March 1, 2025 HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BILLY

Happy Birthday Billy Batson! Give him a cake. Give him a balloon. Give him a present. Tell him how much you appreciate him. He is eighty-five years old. He looks timeless! Is the secret the amber from the Sivana suspendium?

This is a free day, open for anything.

How to participate On Tumblr (and elsewhere, if desired), use the hashtags #billybatsonweek and #bb85week simultaneously so that others might see and engage with your work. Late entries are always, always welcome. I’ll be sure to reblog all entries inside the tags for archival reasons, so please don’t hesitate to tag my blog!

The Archive of Our Own story collection is linked here.

On previous weeks Feel free to browse entries from previous years for inspiration, or reuse the old prompts altogether!

2022 Prompts Post / 2022 Entries

2023 Prompts Post / 2023 Entries

2024 Prompts Post / 2024 Entries / AO3 Collection

*FOOTNOTE: Captain Marvel/Billy Batson celebrated his genuine 85th Anniversary December 2024, a date which acknowledges his original on-the-shelves debut in December of 1939. The cover date used in this character celebration week corresponds with what DC Comics used in their 75th Anniversary year count.

#billy batson #shazam #captain marvel #billybatsonweek #bb85week #shazamedit #dc comics #dcmultiverse #freddy freeman #justice league #dcedit #comicedit #comiceditblog #mary marvel #obviously am in the middle of reading cremins hence the theme lol #but i think it also just works so perfectly for an anniversary #no cute gfx this year. you guys im old. i just want to write copy. apparently.

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waterdhaviancheeses · 2 months ago

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Magical sex with Gale

I wrote this post the other day, and got a comment about which spell it was that Gale and Tav used in the bedroom. Though I didn't have a spell in mind, there are plenty of options.

NSFW, mention of drugs under the cut.

Thanks @sorcerervaati

Small disclaimer: I do not necessarily think Gale would be into all of these, and assume every act is safe, sane, and consensual.

Mage Hand, an obvious one, there is an entire ao3 tag dedicated to it. Gale would use it all the time, and loves to watch his partner get pleasured by the hand. Imagine the shenanigans he could get up to if he had the Arcane Trickster's ability to make the hand invisible…

Chill Touch, Frost Fingers, Burning Hands, Shocking Grasp, etc. for temperature play.

Message or Sending, it would become a challenge for him to see how hot and bothered he could get his partner in 25 words or less. He would send a filthy message right after leaving for work, and be delighted to come home to a desperately horny Tav.

Illusion spells! Every time Gale has to leave for work for a longer period of time, he leaves a programmed illusion as a surprise for Tav. He would set the trigger for when his name is spoken out loud, in case Tav moans his name while masturbating. The illusion itself could be anything from a naked Gale to just his voice. Gale is incredibly smug when he finds out the illusion was triggered while he was gone.

Evards Black Tentacles, do I need to say more?

I imagine that some enchantment spells such as Charm Person, Command, and Dominate Person, could make you feel very rosy, like taking drugs. These spells would (obviously) work well in a sub/dom relationship.

Disguise self, perfect for gender bending!

Entangle, Hold Person, and Bigby's Hand for bondage.

Grease could be used as lube or massage oil, Gale would be talented enough to add some nice scents, flavors, and effects.

Invisibility, lasts an hour plenty of time to sneak into a bookstore or Blackstaff Academy and get busy. It is concentration, which only adds the thrill of getting caught.

Mirror Image, Gale would leave his mirror image at home as entertainment for Tav when he's at work. If Tav is also a mage, they let their images fuck while the two of them watch, betting on who would lose concentration first or keep their hand to themselves the longest.

Blindness/Deafness and Darkness for sensory deprivation.

Detect Thoughts and Telepathy, provide him with deeper insight in Tav’s likes and dislikes, where to touch when, how rough he can really be, what Tav really wants.

Enlarge, Gale is perfect the way he is, but has definitely enlarged his cock a couple of times.

Vortex Warp allows you to instantly switch places…

Arcane Eye and Scrying could be used to look in on Tav masturbating. Once again, if he was not at home and missing Tav, he sends a message, asking for a show from them.

Fabricate, for some impressive sex toys.

Polymorph, for a more primal connection, Halsin-style ;)

Animate Objects, Gale would use this spell to make sure the bed or sofa was as comfortable as possible for Tav. Or, perhaps, to get some help from the furniture to restrain or choke them.

Dream, how wonderful it is to be able to continue their escapades even after falling asleep.

Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion can be decorated in any way the caster wants, so a sex dungeon is on the table for sure.

Reverse Gravity, sex on the ceiling!

Last but not least: Simulacrum, 1500 gold is a small price to pay for another Gale, another set of his hands, another tongue, another mage hand. The Simulacrum can cast the same spells as Gale, so double the amount of fun :)

Which one is your favorite?

#not my best writing but I could not get this to work in any other format #galemance #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #text #gale x tav #long post

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circeyoru · 1 year ago

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The Spirit’s Favourite Human _ Part 2

SURPRISE! I can't take the suggestion out of my head and written another one. But it's long................................................

[Human!Alastor x Spirit of the Forest!Reader]

Part 1

Part 2 (here)

Maybe you shouldn’t have put your hand in his offered one after several more of his visits to your forest to ‘chat’ with you. Because now you found yourself clinging to Alastor’s side as the lack of nature elements frightened you, it was odd to hear the sounds of humans chatting over the chirps of the birds or the bellow of the trees. The only comfort and safe haven you had was Alastor and you stuck to him like roots to the soil

Alastor didn’t mind the closeness of you hugging his arm, not at all. He loved it since you hardly came close to him, even during his visits to the forest, as those birds would come to you for any gossip that he couldn’t understand. Though it was wonderful to hear you speak to him in his mind, it was like you were everywhere around him

What he minded was how onlookers would stare at you and your perfect form. You’re clothed, yes, but it was off and revealing. He didn’t even notice until he was with you in the streets with people around and not the creatures of the forest

He placed his coat over you as he led you to the boutique. Picking a bunch of clothes that he thinks would look good on you. But they were too formal. So he had to change to another shop

You caught onto what he wanted to do and looked around while he took a break at a bench. A flowery shop drew your attention as you pulled Alastor along to see what was inside. It was another boutique with more comfy and casual wear that he wouldn’t like. He was going to bring you away but the look on your face stopped him and he let you pick whatever

The moment you stepped out from the changing room, he felt his heart drop and his body freeze over. Oh, you looked so divine he didn’t think it was possible. Flattery came from his lips like a song dedicated to you. The blush on your face was a good look on you, but don’t hide that expression from him. He brought everything you tried on and then some, he was glad you didn’t have the concept of money else you’d be declining his gifts and the bags that decorated his free arm like jewellery

Last destination was his home. He noticed that look you had, it was wonder and curiosity. He knew you liked it when you dragged him around and had him open doors and fiddle with other objects that fancied you. There was one place you hated. The library or study he had

You suddenly bend over and place your hands over your ears as screams and cries come at you. Alastor thought the radio he had on was too loud and left to turn it off. When he left, you stepped forward, looking for what the screams and cries were directing you to. The books, the papers, the shelves. It was all made from the trees that gave you home

When Alastor returned, he only found you amidst the flying books and papers he used for his radio show. Your fury was another side he rarely seen, your lips moved and your eyes glowed as you glared, not directed at him, but he felt your rage. “Humans. Hurt. Home.”

So you knew some words and expressed yourself. He understood, the trees were hurt and turned to another form by humans. He only had that idea to try and soothe your pain and anguish. He’ll show you his basement that you have yet to pry into. He was going to let you find out during your fun tour of his house but it seems now’s a better time

He led you out of the study, ignoring the paper cuts that accidentally got him. He shut the door as he disregarded the state of the room you turned into. Had you been someone else, he’d bring them to his basement for another reason entirely

“Humans aren’t your woodland friends, my dear.” Alastor spoke as he opened the hidden doorway, lighting the way before the two of you began your descent. “You’ve seen my work and helped me in the forest. But before you pushed down those bodies…” He showed you the room where his tools lie and the heavy smell of iron remained. “I bring them here, if I could, to make them cold.”

Your raging emotions seemed to simmer down. Right. Cold. Death. That’s what you can associate. Alastor kills his kind, no different to the predatory birds that would eat other birds. The place Alastor calls home was like another forest. A place where the strong survive

Those trees lacked a spirit like you to protect them, you’ll protect your home. You weren’t a gentle spirit that would let humans cut down your friends in your home. Your duty was to protect the forest and its residents

You turned to Alastor, he was a human yet you weren’t angry with him. Not even when he hunted deers and other animals in your home. Well, he didn’t go over the line. You’ve seen other hunters that were disrespectful. No, Alastor honoured his prey to the best of his abilities

You cupped his face by his cheeks, healing his paper cuts and restoring his energy. “You. Protect. You. Good human.”

His smile melted to a smaller and more comfortable one as he leaned against your hold. “You’re a blessing in my lonely life, my dearest spirit. I’ll protect you as well.”

So started your life with Alastor in his human city. The first thing he taught you was communication in the human tongue. He found out the easiest way to teach was through songs and singing. You had some basic knowledge of words. But he was beyond surprised to see you imitate questionable phases and movements, saying that you watched other humans and listened to try and learn some

He added more targets to his list after that

You were a quick learner. Easily managing the new human knowledge that Alastor taught it, you chalk it up to his voice and demeanour being pleasant to you and you didn’t think it was useless to you since you liked Alastor and wanted to stay with him

Of course, you weren’t always in town with him. You had your duties back in the forest. And Alastor understood that. He’d bring you bodies of humans to bury and offer as nutrients for the forest. In turn, you offered him something you didn’t realize you were doing. A connection and care that he missed after his mother’s death

Alastor and your relationship became the talk of the town. The once famous and popular radio host that seek no relationship had someone that can invade his personal space without being shoved aside! Big news!

Someone had came up to ask the closest of your relationship with Alastor once while you were out shopping for some plant seeds to add to Alastor’s backyard so you could be alerted if the situation need be. But Alastor hadn’t taught you much about relationships, since it’s was closeness. You’d agree you and Alastor was close

“Is Alastor courting you?”

Courting. Alastor had mention it was done to someone close to another, and you and Alastor were very close that he’d share with you those ‘dark secrets’ as he called it. So you nodded and said ‘yes’ then left

When the news went to Alastor, he thought someone found out about his plans to formally court you. There was a reason why he didn’t teach you about relationships. He wanted to surprise you since nature was your ally and you’d know everything after getting a topic, it was like you knew all. To his surprise, you were the one that said yes before he had the chance to propose his courting to you

“My darling, you never cease to amaze me.” Alastor came back to you that night and hugged you like no tomorrow. You were confused but welcomed the touch. Then came Alastor’s explanation and your blushing to the next realm. “You’re not planning on backing down from your claim, now, are you?”

There was not much change, but Alastor did bring you out more often and showed you off more, even on his radio show. You can’t help but smile and blush at his praises. But his listeners would be envious of you two, sometime Alastor would have some comments coming in to tell him to get a room or move onto the next topic. That gave both of you a good laugh

That aside. You were the perfect accomplice. Your powers completed what he lacked. While his current methods were satisfactory and allured the police from pointing fingers at him, with you by his side, it was even better! Bodies can go missing for weeks and no one would know, only the missing posters increased, but not the number of murdered victims. He gave him a sense of thrill, power, and control every time he had to report it on his show

You sometimes couldn’t understand why Alastor would reveal where some of the bodies were on his radio, saying it was a tip from someone anonymous and pointed the police to find the body that was somewhere else (ones that wasn’t buried in your forest)

Still, as long as Alastor was happy and your home was safe. You didn’t mind. There was a term for this. Not just the romantics that Alastor announced to those around him. No, it was something you never showed to the other humans. Maybe to some children that would visit the forest, but never to this extent

“Favouritism.” You spoke as you caressed a black rose, sitting by the open window that gave you a clear view of your forest. A bird came by with a note in its beak, you recognized the cursive to be Alastor’s writing. You smiled as you kissed the petals of the rose. “My favourite human.”

Note: This would be the stuff that happened before that ask I answered

Another thing. You guys love the {Demonic Companion} one huh. Question, should I do a masterlist to include links to the posts? Or is without one okay? Or should I wait till there's more stories posted?

(″ ´ワ` ″)

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

#The Spirit’s Favourite Human #alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #human alastor #Circe's Nighty Writings

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three-realms-archive · 11 months ago

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Unhinged™

(inspired by this post by @leniisreallycool. the pure madness of obey me is the reason why I typically write chaotically-comedic slice-of-life scenarios; because i can honestly write these guys doing the stupidest things and argue that it might as well be canon, these dorks. anime canon, tho. the anime is just another beast of its own to the game ahahaha.)

(so while this may not be anime canon-level obey me content, i hope it comes close. if they’ve actually done any of these and i just haven’t experienced it in-game yet, let me know! it only proves my point.)

There was a time when Solomon brought an extremely-long baguette everywhere with him, insisting it was his magic wand. Even as the days turned to weeks, and the bread crust turned to mould, Solomon would still carry it around everywhere; unbothered by the rancid smell and waving it like a idol group light-stick whenever he spoke an incantation. Then, one day, he showed up at RAD with sandwiches to share. Sandwiches… with suspiciously green and white bread. Turns out, this whole thing was Solomon’s interpretation of dry-aging.

Belphegor and Asmodeus have an ongoing vlog series on Deviltube called ‘Beauty Sleep’. They go somewhere trendy, find some inappropriate place for Belphie to sleep, and Asmo takes some #aesthetic shots whilst timing how long Belphie can nap before being kicked out. It’s incredibly popular and sometimes features cameos from the exchange students and the other Avatars of Sin. Once, a subscriber milestone came with a special surprise: a live-streamed episode of Beauty Sleep in the Demon Lord’s Castle! They never got caught, because Diavolo was busy watching the livestream in his room - too invested to realise it was his own house.

The dining table in the main room of the House of Lamentation has its own fandom on the DevilNet. There are multiple fansites speculating the exact materials used to make it; the exact number of fasteners it uses; and, most especially, its exact length. There are posts, blogs and entire DevilTube deep-dive videos centred around the mystery of how long the table is. This is because, in every piece of media involving the table, it appears a different length despite the decorations and location remaining the same. What the Devildom doesn't know is that the table was made retractable shortly after MC arrived in the Devildom. It was a custom job, done solely so that the table could be used as a runway for a makeshift fashion show (Asmo and Mammon's idea) the brothers held with human world clothes one time MC was feeling homesick.

Once, for a whole month, Mammon dedicated himself to creating a new currency. For the first week, he was an absolute menace, stealing metal objects (like small screws or unused kitchen utensils) around the house to melt down and form into coins of his own design. Beel cried for five days over the lack of cutlery and Asmo kept shrieking whenever he realised he’d had another piece of jewellery had been stolen from him. The rest of the month was spent attempting to rope people into investing; then failing; then celebrating because he had so much of his money to himself; and finally crying because none of it would be accepted at stores.

When he had first gotten into reading books, Satan started a website called ‘Ampbook’ where demons could upload personal writing projects, as well as comment on and share them, too. It’s now incredibly popular, especially amongst younger demons, and is well-known for romance. Well. Much to Satan’s chagrin, it was actually better-known for romance… and fanfiction. He’s constantly torn between allowing his beloved site users their freedom of expression, or immediately taking down any fanfics shipping MC with any of his other brothers. He’s also faked MC x Satan as the most trending tag, permanently.

The height of Beel’s appreciation for Leviathan was shortly after MC’s arrival into the Devildom. They had introduced Levi to an anime centred around four students in a high school swimming team; including a protagonist who Beel thought had a dubiously-intimate love of water. Regardless, Levi tried out for the RAD swimming team - got in and won a bunch of gold medals - and then proceeded to quit the team after a new, different anime he had been waiting for came out. All in the span of a week. To Levi's disdain, Beel brings this up at least once a month: by parading a handmade display of Levi's medals and a framed photo of his older brother in a swimsuit around RAD, showing it off to everyone who asked. And everybody asked. Maybe not so much for the medals.

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appleflavoredkitkats · 6 months ago

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finally, after a gruelling one month, sonic 3 released in the philippines. i have Finally watched it, and even if it’s been only a day, i have a Lot to say about stobotnik— not necessarily from the movie, i feel like we discussed that enough, but moreso what i hope to see for stobotnik in future movies.

for the past weeks before i watched sonic 3, i read up on people desperately wanting villain!stone for sonic 4. this seems to win the popular vote on what should happen with stone next movie, and as someone who wanted stone to go batshit as well, i definitely liked reading all the different ideas for it. BUT, and this is a big but, i do think there needs to be more considerations when it comes to stone if we do want to see him as such.

for starters, a popular take is that stone should cope with grief Badly, which makes him vindictive of the main team. while i think this is funny and has a lot of merit for fanwork, i do think this risks repeating the themes of sonic 3. particularly, the entire movie IS about grief and how to cope with such, about shying away from revenge as a foolproof way of responding to grief. not to say that stone wouldn’t cope well, but i do think, narratively and thematically, it would be smarter to move away from a movie plot that literally has been done.

i genuinely wouldn’t want the movie to end with another “i shouldn’t do things out of revenge!” since we literally Saw that. moreover, i think we need to give more merit to stone and robotnik’s relationship that stone would understand the nuance and meaning to robotnik’s final sacrifice. of course that is a tall order, especially considering the sudden grief, but i think we forget also how dedicated stone is to robotnik. he WOULD respect and do what he thinks robotnik was trying to impart in the last scenes. not to mention as well, stone has no reason to target the main team in particular when he explicitly mentions in the movie that this plan was dangerous because of gerald, NOT sonic.

but. i DO think there could be a way we can have villain!stone in the next movie, because i do think he could play a narratively antagonistic role. i’ve been arguing that the next movie’s central theme could potentially be related to identity, especially since we got metal sonic and amy being introduced. if stone assumes a villainous role (and possibly created or activated metal sonic), i think he should be doing it not because of grief, but rather he wants to assume the legacy the doctor left behind. because, well, who is he if not robotnik’s henchman?

if he gets “revenge” or attacks sonic again, i don’t think it should be out of revenge. there should be something logical to it, possibly some conflict i can’t foresee, but it should have something to do with stone going, “well i think the doctor would do this, so i’m gonna try my best emulating such”. i know it sounds very similar to the “think about maria” plotline, but my take is that stone, again, isn’t doing this for vengeance, but moreso objectively tries picking up what robotnik left behind. (which, he would. of course he knows what the doctor would want.)

this especially can distinguish itself from sonic 3 IF the end of his arc would tie into identity, about stone figuring out what he himself would want independent of robotnik. this also ties in well with metal sonic and amy’s presence in sonic 4, because on one hand, we have metal sonic, which is self-explanatorily a “better” version of sonic. not only does sonic have to examine his own identity, but imagine if metal was made in service of either stone or GUN, and gains sentience and wants to be their own person. isn't that just a neat parallel to stone? then, on the other, we have amy, who is written originally to be whatever the opposite to a bechdel test is. of course, amy’s developed to be so much more, but i think it would be interesting for them to tackle it explicitly in the movies, whether it is through amy undergoing her own conflict or amy being the person who helps the others realize what it means to be their own person.

all to say, villain!stone shouldn’t be a grief allegory but an identity one. the line is very thin, but i think it’s okay as long as the underlying question is “who am i without robotnik?” and not “what should i do to avenge his death?”.

(also, had the idea that if stone build or helped build metal sonic, imagine if he also tried making a robot!robotnik haha as if haha)

another consideration i had is that, if stone only plays an antagonistic role, meaning he isn’t an active villain but merely an opposing force against the team next movie, i think it should come from some sort of misunderstanding. this definitely has to include GUN in some way, because i feel like rockwell was underutilized, and the weapon in the sky thing was definitely not addressed. perhaps stone’s evil plan ISN’T to hurt the main team but rather abolish GUN, but GUN employs and tricks the main team to think stone is doing something villainous against them.

if this is the case, i do think another central theme to consider is the entire megamind nature vs nurture debacle, what does it mean to be a good or bad person? one way i can see them going about this is the team questioning why stone is so down bad for robotnik, only to reveal that robotnik’s more nuanced that he is, which only stone understands because he identifies himself in robotnik (thanks lee majdoub). this also ties in well with metal sonic defying his original purpose, but i am not quite sure how amy ties into it but it’s not impossible to connect her to this plotline anyway. shadow could potentially have a role in this too, of what it means to do good after all he did wrong.

also hoping this movie ends with an anti-military moral. like everything is nuanced except the military <3 the military is what caused both gerald and robotnik to go batshit so.

and oh god stobotnik, okay i’ve gone so far talking about stone without talking about stobotnik, but i have two suggestions, especially considering jim carrey’s possible return: he is dead (with emotional considerations), or he is alive (with domestic considerations). hold on let me explain.

i will. absolutely hate it if robotnik turns out to be alive if and only if it’s shown at the beginning of sonic 4, and he assumes the role of main villain again. we've had ENOUGH, we already got to finish the entire 360 for his arc and what a shame it would be if he returns with the importance of his sacrifice to be taken away. yes, i hate that robotnik died as a person who loved him, but also his death is is really good story and writing-wise.

i think. i think if he comes back to life, it needs to be done 1.) at the end of sonic 4, and 2.) to conclude the stobotnik storyline once and for all. considering the suggestions i previously made, if robotnik were alive, i think it would be a more powerful punch if stone meets robotnik AFTER his own character arcs, and they come back as two wholes. after, i don’t think we shouldn’t see stobotnik again for future installations, but considering there would be 6-10 sonic movies i think it’s important to at least lay off making stobotnik the main villains or at least side antagonists for a while. i think they could have little cameos at least, possibly helping the characters or trying their best to acclimate to domestic life. you choose!

but if robotnik were permanently dead, i do think his appearance in a future film would be a flashback or memory, of stone remembering a time where he and robotnik were doing something that made stone realize how much robotnik loved him. something more intimate, something with the expected goofiness but with underlying tenderness. perhaps he left a final video message, perhaps there’s a scene which is very steven universe rose’s scabbard-esque (if you know you know).

also, this isn’t even considering the possibility of a into the sonicverse or time travel type scenario where there is a possibility of bringing robotnik back from other dimensions, because that in on itself is such a big plot possibility with a lot of implications for other characters that i won’t entertain it for now in this post. but it is definitely possible!

i’ve also considered the possibility that… maybe stone and robotnik wouldn’t appear in the next movie too! which. i’m not against if they bring it up in the fifth movie instead, because i delusionally believe silver and blaze will get introduced and that opens a whole can of worms for what other stobotnik possibilities could exist.

but anyways those are my main thoughts, feel free to add on if you’d like to. i just needed to rebut all the “stone should be a senseless villain against sonic and team next movie” ideas. but you’re free to explore that anyway in fanwork lol, i think it’s fun.

#sonic 3 #sonic 3 spoilers #sonic the hedgehog #agent stone #dr robotnik #stobotnik #long post #ivo robotnik

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lightningant · 4 months ago

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Love love your ronmort essay, couldn't agree more ! Do you have any head cannons about them you want to dissert about cause I'm all ears !!

Some quick ideas to texture the Borgin Tom AU:

-Tom initially looks down on him and is paternalistic and sees him a little like a pet (obviously) but he is so self-assured that he hasn't come to terms with the fact Ron is his special little princess.

-Tom avoids testing his loyalty for a long while, because it requires actually interrogating how important that loyalty is to him. He does constantly test his affection though. Always keep them on their toes.

-When the loyalty test does come he just takes it as a given Ron will be loyal not because he genuinely believes it but because the crashout would be legendary if he didn't and he refuses to entertain the possibility the next year of his life would be dedicated to malding over the kind of guy you'd pass at a grocery store. Luckily Ron is a true ride or die👍

-After learning Tom is a crime lord Ron is actually pretty proactive in organizing any potential conflicts so they don't come to blows. He is doing this out of moral opposition but it does have the knock-on effect of making Tom calm down.

-Tom teaches him parseltongue and Ron ends up semi-fluent. He loves to talk to Ron in parseltongue to fuck with people

-Tom loves it when Ron turns down potential paramours, it puts him in a good mood for the rest of the day. He enjoys hamming up how they don't stand a chance because their romantic rival is ~Lord Voldemort~. He wants to do a Betty and Veronica routine with someone so bad but he can't because if his rival actually stood a chance they would go missing under mysterious circumstances

-For a really long time Ron avoids telling Harry and Hermione that he is some bizarrely well-connected older shopkeeper's Kept Man. Because Harry would think it was weird because they stalked him as children and Hermione would think it was weird AND wrong because they stalked him as children. And Harry would suggest stalking again

-When they do meet, Tom immediately focuses on antagonizing Harry as much as possible. Surviving baby murder has attracted all the aggro Hermione would have absorbed from being the one who got away. Tom thinks it is SO absurdly funny, he loves that he's made an urban legend out of an infant because he didn't like being forced to change diapers. Like naturally only he could do this.

-The Death Eaters are all bothered by Ron. It was okay when Abraxas was the favourite because he's a rich pureblood patriarch of good breeding. Who the fuck is that. ??????

-Having a man in his house to dote on him after a long day has done never-before-seen things to Tom's mental health.

-Ron was really excited to introduce him to his family up until Tom decided to play up his bootstraps backstory and his mom fell over herself to welcome him and Percy fell over himself to look impressive to someone so notoriously well-connected and he earned Fred & George's respect effortlessly and they're all going "how did you pull THAT" while this is happening. He spends an entire month in some level of sulk until they finally have a screaming argument and Tom freezes him out for the longest time they've ever been apart before finally deciding to lure him back with gifts. When Ron doesn't like them he takes it extremely personally but the fact this made him so unbelievably angry does give Ron a clue on Tom's values and he (with help from friends) is the one to reconcile with warm and supportive communication and a shiny object.

#asks #ronmort

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thedovesaredying · 6 months ago

Text

Alstroemeria | Nikto x F!Reader

TW Mild Gore

It’s a widely known fact that you despise Nikto. The team know it, the higher-ups know it, and no one knows it better than Nikto himself. He does nothing but cause trouble for you, forcing you to waste your time tracking him down like a foxhound racing through the woods, cornering him with a fierce snarl. No matter how many times he tries to disappear, you always end up dragging him out of his hiding place, tail between his legs.

He really shouldn’t have been surprised when he learned that the team had dubbed you “Hound”.

He’s never been good at submitting to medical checkups, but at KorTac, it’s mandatory for each operator to visit their assigned medic immediately after being deployed on a mission. His previous medics would run away like frightened pups the moment he snapped out a quick “fuck off”, learning to leave him to lick his own wounds.

You’re not his old medics. You have no qualms about throwing open the door to his private quarters and snatching him up by the back of his neck like a bitch scruffing an unruly pup. He either gets dragged to medical or forced to sit while you check him over for any injuries, entirely unconcerned by his grumbling and growling.

You must despise how he makes you chase after him when you’re overworked as it is. If it weren’t for your dedication to your job, you’d have likely left him to die from infection long ago. Instead, you were the one to drag him off the field, bleeding out from a wound to his gut, so bad he was certain he’d finally reached his limit.

Packing his wound had been agonising and pressing down on it had him seeing stars. You ignored his screams and curses, merely pressing down harder as his hot blood travelled ever further up your arms. You look good covered in his blood, he recalls thinking to himself, delirious as he watched you holding his life in your hands. An angel of life? An angel of death? No doubt you could be both.

You hate him.

You must hate him.

So why do his lungs ache with each and every breath? Why does his chest get tighter with each passing moment? Why does it burn whenever he feels your hands, firm yet gentle on his damaged skin?

He stares at the white petals sitting in the bottom of the sink, their perfect colour tainted by the splatters of blood. He reaches into his mouth, gloved fingers digging into the back of his throat and trying to grasp hold of the sharp object stabbing into his tongue. He grips what can only be some sort of thick strand, pulling it – then immediately releasing, gagging and choking as pain explodes in the centre of his chest – something breaks free and he stares at it in the palm of his hand.

A stem, bright green and covered in a mixture of saliva and blood.

You hate him, and it’s slowly killing him.

Got inspired by @/lethalchiralium mentioning the lack of the hanahaki disease trope in the CoD fandom. Unedited, we die like mne!

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #nikto x reader #call of duty nikto #nikto x you #hanahaki disease #hanahaki au

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kittyscupcakeandbunny · 2 years ago

Text

Crazy Over You x Min Yoongi

[HYBRID AU]

PART FIVE

Bitter taste, Jealousy and bites.

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Bunny Hybrid, Hoseok/assistant.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior.

Word count: 8.5k

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

< Previously Next Chapter >

……….

Everything went smoothly afterwards, by that would mean nothing eventful happened but things still needed more time to heal. I took Yoongi back to his mating room once the exams were done, after that he seemed tired and didn’t question much once we were there. I never seen him so exhausted before, the entire time he was going under the exams he looked nervous and I worried that it might have something to do with his past. He didn’t say anything till we got to his room and even after that he kept quiet.

I didn’t know what would happen to him now that he was free from Jin’s father, but it was a relief to know he wouldn’t have to put up with extreme tests anymore, he deserved that freedom and i knew he would have more rest from now on. Although i was happy for Yoongi i also couldn’t help but worry about the new hybrid Jin mentioned before, I was afraid he might end up like Yoongi did on his fathers hand, even now that Yoongi was some what free from him I couldn’t help but feel like things weren’t completely over.

I dedicated so many years of my life to this clinic, believing in Jin’s father as the director of this sanctuary a place were hybrids had a chance to make the rest of their lives better, a place where they could heal from their past and recover from their traumas. When I heard about Yoongis past I felt the ground under me fall, at first I couldn’t believe such happened here out of all places and everything we’ve done to help the hybrids. The truth was much harsh then I wanted to believe and I couldn’t help but worry more and more for the hybrids at the clinic, what if it Yoongi wasn’t the only one? What if there were more cases like this still happening?

I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if this carry on happening, I’ve taken care of hybrids for so many years they are beings just like us and deserve to be treated fairly. Yet things like this still happen, it wasn’t of my nature to simply let things go as much as I have to focus on Yoongis situation for now, I wouldn’t let things slide that easily. Jin’s father doesn’t deserve to be the director of the clinic, I understand Jin and how hard it must be for him now especially since his own father it’s solid problem here but that doesn’t mean his dad can make those decisions without being held accountable for it, we manage to free Yoongi only because coincidentally another hybrid was there to take his place, what Yoongi went through could still happen to another hybrid and that wasn’t something i wanted to happen and I wouldn’t let it happen.

I made sure Yoongi was left resting and seeing as he went straight to sleep after getting in his room I knew I could leave and he would be fine for now. This week has been very stressful for Yoongi and I kept thinking if rushing with the exams on him wasn’t pushing him too much at this point, from the outside one seemed to be doing much better now but looks could lie when it came to your health and I worried for him more and more. All this time hes been under experiments cold have done some real damage to his body and we had to make sure he was fine - I had to know if he was fine.

Once I got in the small computer room I’m meet with Jin’s figure standing beside one of the assistants who sat on the chair while showing Jin the exams results, this would be my last stop for tonight it was already way past my work time and I had been in the clinic for the entire day to make sure Yoongi was fine after everything that happened. So much had happen today and my body was begging to go home now. I could feel the tiredness at every muscle.

- y/n come look at this - said Jin, once he notice my presence as I approached them.

As I stood beside him I looked up at the exams shown on the screens in front of me, there were two screens in which one showed Yoongis vitals in the moment the exam were taken and the other was a full body image scan from his internal structure and every muscle on his body.

- how is he? - I asked checking the screens.

- he is fine from what we can tell from the results - said the assistant whose name on the badge on his coat said “Jake” while looking up at me and Jin - he does not have any fractures or internal bruises.

- that’s good to know…

- although y/n, i think you should talk to him - Jin added, his eyes stared into mine with worry in that moment.

- why? - i asked noticing the look he shared with the assistant.

- tell her what you said to me - Jin leaned against the table crossing his arms over his chest.

Something seemed to be wrong and I knew it in that moment when Jin turned his gaze away from mine, worry began to boil over every cell on my body. Yoongi didn’t seemed to be okay the whole time during the exam and now that Jin has been acting strangely, I felt even more uneasy.

- well, if you look here y/n… - the assistant Jake said, pointing at the screen in front of him showing Yoongis body scan - you see this red waves of light on his body?

The screen showed Yoongis thermal image scan, commonly used to detect any differences or slight changes on the hybrids health since infrared emissions from a body are directly related to their temperature. From the looks of it his body seems to be emitting more heat then a normal hybrids should, I’ve never seen anything like that before.

- his body temperature seems pretty high, could it be fever? - I asked.

- in this case not exactly, you see the hints of pink around him? - i only nodded to him as he continued explaining, still not understanding what he meant with all that - this kind of waves are hormones and from the looks of it they kept coming back and forth bigger, in this scale it means the hybrid is under heat.

- what? - I exclaimed.

- i felt skeptical at first too, since you mentioned that he has no heat - Jin added, turning to look at me - but the exams tell otherwise.

- behavior exams would have to be taken if you want to make sure of it but, it is very clear in the scan that he is in heat - the assistant Jake affirmed.

- I understand… its just, why would he lie about it? - i held my forehead in contemplation, walking to the other side of the room I didn’t know what to do in this moment and as i turned to Jin feeling as lost as he seemed i knew were complicated now.

- maybe he.. he was trying to delay the mating process - Jin muttered.

I didn’t know how to feel in that moment, it was much clear that Yoongi has been lying this entire time about his heat and I couldn’t deny any of it. I was disappointed to know he’s been hiding that from me all this time, i felt a little betrayed even but I couldn’t blame him for hiding it from me as much as i hated to admit, Yoongi has been through a lot is natural that he wouldn’t trust so easily. The fact that he has been hiding his thought meant we couldn’t hold the proper care for him, he could be in much discomfort if not taken care of too.

I kept thinking about Jin’s words for the rest of the night, Yoongi had good reason for trying to delay the procedures since he’s been through much worst and i wondered if he thought it wasn’t just a get away to hurt him and for that reason he tried to delay the process, It was great to know that Yoongi was perfectly fine after all that hes been through but the fact that he was hiding from me his heat this whole time made me uneasy. It meant i was completely wrong this whole time about him, I couldn’t help but feel like a failed to notice something so crucial this whole time. I should’ve know it before anyone since i was the closest to him and now his actions so far had a complete different meaning especially since i knew the truth now.

Later as me and Jin were exiting the clinic he made sure to assure me he would be taking care of Yoongi tomorrow since i wasn’t going to be present, while telling me to rest for the big day on Monday we said our goodbyes.

My body was completely exhausted, once i got home all i could do was fall over the sofa tiredly and contemplate todays events even though all I wanted was to rest different from my body my mind simply couldn’t turn off. I couldn’t stop thinking about Yoongi, replying all of his behaviors in my head collecting every piece to put together the puzzle I didn’t when i was with him in the clinic. The more i thought about it the more guilty i felt, it was clear from the moment i saw him for the first time and yet it went right past me. I had been working with hybrids for so long that something like this shouldn’t go unnoticed by a doctor, i simply ignored all of the signals. Feeling even more embarrassed i had let myself wonder to the point i let him bite me and do even more after - why on earth would he do that if not from being under heat? - Yoongi wasn’t heaving bad side effects from the heat stimulants when he acted out and attacked someone, it was clear to me since he was actually in heat but I couldn’t picture why he acted that way to someone, if the heat stimulants were effecting him this whole time it would explain why he felt attracted to me - i still couldn’t understand why he would attack someone and i kept rethinking again and everything but nothing came to mind.

What was i suppose to do with this information now? Yoongi could be lying about more things to me and I wouldn’t even know. Jin did advise me into talking to him about it but how can I believe now?

As angry as i was with him now, i know he didn’t do it on purpose. He must have a reason for hiding things about himself, as Jin mentioned he must be trying to delay the mating process but I couldn’t help thinking there was more to it then it shows. I can’t blame him for that even if it makes me angry, i too am lying and hiding things from him - after all he was the victim here not me.

I still can’t believe how messy my emotions have become ever since i meet him, the more time i spent with him the more he captivated me in ways i never thought were possible. I never once felt this way about a hybrid before, it was never a problem treating them until a meet Yoongi. The snake hybrid i never even though to meet once was now under my care, more then that i manage to break the rules of the clinic because of him and the more I told myself I wouldn’t cross those lines again i simple failed miserably.

Looking back now i don’t really know what about him that makes my body burn in the best way possible but every time i was with him it felt like every cell on my body wanted to be close to him. I didn’t wanted to cross that line again if it meant hurting him.

i just had to do the right thing for now.

For the both of us.

[…]

Sunday went by so fast I didn’t really got much rest. I bearly had any sleep last night, kept thinking about Yoongi and an unsettling feeling was boiling up inside me the more i thought about today. Meeting Yoongi today shouldn’t be so hard after all i was his doctor but we crossed that line so many times our relationship was anything but a normal doctor and patient type of relationship anymore. I didn’t know were to stand in this i know i didn’t stoped myself from going over the lines and that led to the moment i was most afraid of, my emotions were everywhere torn into pieces and spread all over the floor. It felt like i was sinking alone in a boat. All my fear were washed away from my mind as soon as it as with Yoongi, everything made sense to me but as soon as i left his room I’m once again alone in that boat.

Trying to ignore those feelings were useless now, I can’t hide from him how i feel. I’ve been trying miserably to do that and it only got us both hurt, i wanted to tell him everything but that meant Alison telling him the truth about this whole process to begin with. It was selfish of me to think of that, what would he think of me once i tell him? I certainly don’t expect a hug from him, he would probably hate me. After everything i felt like I owed him the truth, he must think I’m playing with his feelings and since he is in heat all his senses were in a much higher frequency. To distract myself from the nervous feeling that runs down my whole body, i tried to think about my tasks for the day ahead of me useless as his lies were still stuck in my head.

The whole night i kept rethinking about the incident that led him into bitting another coworker at the clinic, I was afraid he hurt someone without a reason now that i knew he was hiding his heat and more than anything i feared it was because of me.

Hybrids in heat can get very dangerous sometimes, their instincts are at maximum speed going beyond any rational thought. If taken too lightly it can end up very messy - i took it much lightly that time by ignoring clear sings of heat all because it came from Yoongi - all this time I’ve been so caught up in my feelings for him I didn’t notice how much that would cost me. I’ve never had that problem before but Yoongi just had that hypnotic aura around him I didn’t even notice when it was too late. Questioning even more my capabilities as his doctor, maybe it was best if i took some time out of this.

I keep getting distracted by him every time I’m with him and that is costing us too much, maybe I’m not the right person to do this as Jin had believed. Certainly falling in love with his patient didn’t include in that faith.

The more that creeped into my mind the more stressed i felt, since today was the first step for the mating process i was already making my way to Yoongis mating room to encounter Jin there and from then carry on a quick check up on Yoongi before anything happens, the hybrids would meet for the first time today and all i could think about was the unsettling feeling inside my stomach.

While being free from the directors claws Yoongi would still proceed with the mating since Jin decided that carry on the mating process would be more beneficial for the hybrids as they would be able to meet someone just like themselves for the first time and have the opportunity to engage on their journey together. Now that we found out about Yoongis heat as well Jin thought it would be much better for him since things were escalating faster then he thought.

Hybrids have the natural need of a mate, it is more then sexual desire but a connection they can count on and protect. Hybrids without a mate often end up in severe depression and in very rare cases they might die of loneliness.

The importance of the mating process goes beyond continuing the species.

As I’m making my way through the white corridors of the seventh floor to Yoongis mating room I find Jin also going in the same direction, his attention fully on the papers he had at hands. I quickly matched up with him finally getting his reaction to my presence.

He gave me a small smile before turning to look ahead of us as we got closer to Yoongis room.

- how are you feeling about today? - he asks.

- nervous but.. excited for Yoongi - i tell him, trying my best to ignore the bitterness under my tongue.

- me too, i truly hope this goes well for him - he added, before signaling towards the door for Yoongis room.

I quickly made my way to opened for us inserting the code for it on the digital screen beside the door, it made a sound before opening completely and i walked in before Jin.

The lights were on a warmer tone then usual and the room temperature seemed more humid this time, aware of Yoongis presence lying down on his bed almost fully covered on the messy sheets of his nest if not for his dark hair you could bearly tell he was there, at out noisy entire he slowly began to get up. The view of his full figured instantly making my heart beat faster from both nervous and eagerness at the same time. Once I heard the sound of the door closing behind me as Jin took place beside me giving me a small smile of encouragement and I took a few breaths before approaching Yoongi on his bed as he slowly sit up staring at both Jin and i.

- hey Yoongi, i came to check your skin today, mind if i do? - i ask him softly, his eyes went from Jin to me before tiredly nodding.

It felt much different seeing him now I didn’t want to make this uncomfortable but something already felt wrong when i saw him today. It just seemed like the Yoongi i knew before wasn’t here anymore, i know it was him right there but something about him was different. Maybe it was just me and my point of view from him had changed since the exams came proving about his heat, all my internal monologues about his behavior and the fact that there was much more that he was hiding.

I can’t just make him tell me everything and that wasn’t what I wanted, what I wanted was for him to trust me but that wasn’t something you could force. It just bothers me how he didn’t trust me yet when I had all those feelings for him boiling inside me to the point i could feel the bitterness at the tip of my throat.

I watched as Yoongi got up not saying anything as he unbuttoned his white shirt to expose his scales, walking closer to me stopping a feet away in front of me while he did so. Aware of how he kept looking behind me at Jin, i could only wonder why he seemed to be so concerned about his presence every time he was around but, now that i know the truth about Jin’s father i can only assume is because he knows Jin’s the son of the men who did this to him.

Once he was done I started by examining the scales on his neck carefully moving the shirt away to enough uncover more of his skin, i was glad to see his neck scales seemed fine now moving on to the scales on his ribs the last time I checked them he had some deep scratches on them but now it seemed it had healed much more, Yoongi was recovering pretty fast that was good news at least.

I moved around him to check his back sliding the shirt down to expose the skin for my eyes, his back was the part we’re the most damage was done but now the marks of scratching were almost completely healed.

- your skin is in much better condition - i comment walking around to stand in front of him.

- that’s good to hear - Jin added, a smile on his face walking over to us to hand me Yoongis medicine.

- thanks Jin - i took the small container from his hands, ignoring the small mint our finger slightly brushed over each others.

Looking up to Yoongi as he seemed to sand daggers through his eyes at Jin, the tension was set in the room way before I had stared but now it was even thicker. Cleaning my throat to get his attention which worked as he now started into my eyes with his dark eye dark glossy ones.

- here this are supplements, you’ll take them for a while - i tell him while handing him the pills - since you just started eating again you’ll need this to help balance your diet.

He nodded taking the pills from my hand and swallowing them all at once.

- I’ll get you some water… - before i could take one step away from him he held my arm back, pulling me towards him.

- don’t need it - he murmured over my face, eyes looking for mine as I nervously looked anywhere but him.

It wasn’t too much but a single act could spike a different thought on Jin, i worried he would get things wrong or not so since it wasn’t a lie something was going on between me and Yoongi but now it wasn’t the time for that. His grip over my arm wasn’t too hard and that wasn’t what was making me even more nervous now, the fact that Jin was present there was. Usually Yoongi doesn’t go too far in front of someone else and it made me anxious that he had pulled me too close, the last thing i wanted was for anyone to find out about us. More especially, Jin.

- ok.. - i pushed him slightly away.

I didn’t know how to act in that moment, forcing myself to look up at Jin who just stood there looking at us questioning, he didn’t comment but I knew he catched something the moment our eyes met.

- just got a message from Namjoon he’s ready now, can we carry on? - Jin said.

I was thankful for the change of subject, if he would ask about it later I wasn’t so sure. Jin was more invested on Yoongis case now and from everything that has happened he wanted to get all the details from him to make sure we could treat him with anything he might need.

If Yoongi was showing signs of discomfort with someone we must separate them immediately and it is the opposite we need to know why to ensure his recovery. Being closed to people when you need to be taken care of is not the best scenario. I didn’t know if Jin was catching on it but I couldn’t bet on it to find out.

Yoongi was showing more signs of heat as his need for closure was growing more by now, i didn’t wanted to test how territorial he could get with Jin’s presence.

- oh, yes - I turned back to Yoongi - today is the first step of the mating process, we’ll introduce you to your… partner, soon she will be brought here is that okay with you?

We had everything set up already but asking him first was a safety measure, if one of the hybrids didn’t felt like they can go on to meet we need to cancel it immediately and then make sure they are able to carry on later.

He sighted loudly and then nodded, closing the buttons of his shirt impatiently.

It seemed I wasn’t the only bitter one about this. He wasn’t much happy about the mating from the moment he heard about it, I still didn’t know why thought. Yoongi was the first male hybrids I’ve ever treated who didn’t seem to want to mate, although the signs he needed that were clear and he could bearly hide them anymore, he kept his guard. In that thought I remember how he’s been lying about it, we still had much to talk about that but there wasn’t the right time for it so for now we just had to get over the first step of the mating process.

A grip on my hand made me stop on my tracks as I had turned to leave already, I looked over my shoulder seeing as Yoongi was standing right behind me. Turning completely to look at his face, his mouth opened and closed a few times and he looked down still holding my hand.

- are you going to watch this? - he murmured only for me to hear, his question catches me off guard, dark eyes looking behind me and I didn’t need to turn to know he was looking at the mirrored glass wall.

- I have to, is part of the process - i tell him honestly.

He nodded understanding, letting go of my hand. I give him a small smile before turning to leave.

Nothing much then both hybrids being introduced and having a time for themselves alone to get to know each other would happen now, although we didn’t know how Yoongi would react since his heat had already started. We don’t usually put hybrids in heat to mate but let them get to know each other before that happens to ensure their safety, since his case was very delicate we had no choice but to continue with the process.

Jin and I left his room as he massage Namjoon to confirm he could bring the female hybrid to the mating room, for the first steps of the mating process as their doctors we must watch over them as they meet for the first time and ensure they are okay while doing so. Anything could happen in that moment from good to worst case we should still be ready and prepared to assist the hybrids.

For that a small room was designed right beside his separate by the window, he couldn’t see us here only his own reflection.

Me and Jin quickly took our place there waiting for Namjoon to come, i could see Yoongi in the room through the glass window as he just stood there in the middle of his room were I had left him waiting.

Jin was walking from side to side looking at his phone from time to time he seemed nervous but excited at the same time, i wish i could share the same feeling but the more i waited for what was to happen the more bitterness seems to grow at the tip of my throat making me swallow hard multiple times.

It was so selfish of me to feel this way - I couldn’t only think of that - getting attached to a hybrid on this level wasn’t right especially for my position. I could only get hurt in the end. Yet here i stood, feeling my heart beating faster and faster as the minutes passed, stomach doing flips inside me.

The was the muffled sound of the door in the room opening but i didn’t look up, I was afraid to even look at it. Anxiously staring at floor instead, Jin moved beside me to get closer to the mirrored window thankfully not noticing my face. The sound of Namjoons voice on the other side of the wall filled the small room I was in as he entered the mating room with the female hybrid.

That was it, my heart clenches in my chest. Looking up finally to see his back turned to us as he faces Yoongi a few feet away from him and the presence of the female snake hybrid right beside Joon.

My eyes immediately turned to the female hybrid, it was the first time I saw her too the only thing I knew about here was that she wasn’t a black mamba like Yoongi but a python. No one knew if breeding two different snake species would work in their favor but snake hybrids were already difficult to find and there wasn’t much choice.

I could only see her from the back but I could tell she was much smaller then him, maybe a few inches shorter then me, she had long black hair that went down her hips and from the looks she had a very petit figure wearing the usual gray uniform from the clinic.

Namjoons voice filled my ears as he quickly introduced them to one another, none of the hybrids moving forward or saying anything as he speaks only. The introduction didn’t took much longer for my displeasure and once he was done with his he left the room, leaving both hybrids alone.

It seemed like the moment he closed that door to leave my insides were doing a roll back and forth like a roller coaster, all the air in my lungs were gone completely as i watched both hybrids through the glass wall, bottom lip harshly pressed against my teeth as if it would stop my stomach from doing flips.

They couldn’t see us here and i was glad, for once i felt like I would be able to hold my facial expressions as my whole world seemed to be falling apart. Voices deep down in my mind screaming even more, louder each time.

‘’you should be happy for him’’

‘’you don’t deserve him’’

‘’stop acting so selfish’’

I knew he would forget me completely once he meet the female hybrid, someone who’s just like him. She would be better to him then me, hybrids were made for each other not for humans. We were here to help them not use them, that hybrid would be able to complete him in a way I could never and can share with him the connection he needs. I should’ve knew better before, hybrids act on instinct completely when it comes to their heat. I should’ve know better before letting he take me in the bathtub, before he kissed me. I should’ve had set the lines between us, now is too late.

Watching as he was the first one to make a move and walk up to the female hybrid, heart clenching in my chest as he closed the distance between them completely, grabbing the female hybrids face to turn to the other side.

The air was punched out of my lungs at the sight of them, i wished i could just brushed it off and forget it already. But the sight of in front of me was the hard pill I had to swallow, specially once Yoongi leaves a lick over her cheek.

At that i found the strength to turn around, lucky for me no one notice my displeasure as i did so.

My bottom lip burned from biting to hard into it, the taste of blood wasn’t enough to cover the bitterness though. I didn’t wanted to look at it anymore, focusing on the white wall instead - so this is what is like to have your heart broken?

How can it even feel this bad?

From that point things happen much faster, like a rushed dream. I stared over Namjoon in front of me who was now watching both hybrids with a hard expression on his face, I couldn’t tell why as I didn’t have the strength to watch anymore.

- get out of here.

Yoongis mufled voice on the other side of the wall filled my ears, I felt a cold chill down my spine at the words. His voice was bitter full of displeasure, something I never heard before even when he clearly showed dislike towards the other doctor.

In that second Namjoons eyes turned to mine worried.

- we need to hurry there.

He didn’t have to say twice. I only nodded in agreement fallowing him out of the small room and rushing towards the mating room, something seemed to have desperately wrong while they were there. This was the reason why we had to stay by, anything can happen to the hybrids when they are alone.

The weight in my chest still present as i entered the mating room behind Namjoon and he didn’t hesitate to approach the female hybrid carefully, leading her out of there while muttering words of assurance to her.

I didn’t move at all, my feet wouldn’t let me and every time I looked at him that image popped in my mind but I shouldn’t just stand there this wasn’t the time to let my feelings get in the middle.

I waited until i was sure Namjoon had left with the female before saying anything, something had gone wrong between them already even though they didn’t share a single word, Yoongi had rejected the female hybrid.

- Yoongi, you okay? - i carefully walked to him.

- no… - he said, he had his back turned to me the whole time - i dont wanna do this…

I sighted looking at the floor. He never wanted in the first place, we only did what we thought was going to be the best for him due to the circumstances but it completely slipped out of my mind we had been ignoring his displeasure with the whole process.

- I know… and I’m sorry for not respecting your feelings against it - I muttered, walking towards him till I was close enough to his figure.

I didn’t know what to do, what would be safe to do in that moment. He had shown anger before and I didn’t know if he wouldn’t do the same to me but something about how his tone was lower now gave me the confidence to carefully i hold his hand in mine feeling his cold fingers intertwined with mine, my heart was instantly filled with relief. Watching as he turned around slowly to face me, I looked up into his dark eyes as with his other hand he reached to hold my chin between his fingers so carefully like a touch of feathers.

- i want you y/n, no one else - he whispered his confession over my lips - just you.

- Yoongi…

The words were completely stolen away from me just like my breath.

- please… - he took another step forward making me take another backwards - have my heat with me.

His words were making me feel dizzy, he continued to walk making me nervously take steps back. All air in my lungs were punched out of me.

Heat?

Why would he say such thing right now?

Why would he make me so flustered after licking someone else’s face?

I was completely unable of forming a single same thought in that moment, the heat rising up to my checks as he continued with that game until his words repeated so much in my head all I could think about was;

- you lied to me.

It came out breathlessly through my bloody lips, enough to stop him in his tracks once he had me caged between his body and his bad. Dark eyes locked into mine, the back of my knees touching the edge of the bed and in a breath of moment he simply pushed me over the it and a gasp left my lips, I look up at him now sitting in front of him as his lowers himself down between my legs on his knees.

- i did.. - he confesses, hands slowly reaching up to rest over my thighs - you lied too.

I wasn’t surprised to hear that, I knew he was aware of it.

- i don’t wanna lie anymore - i sighted, his hand held my chin to look at him - the truth is…

My words stopped him from leaning forward, he looked up from my lips to my eyes clearly not expecting me to continue but I had to. This conversation had to continue, I can’t hide things from him anymore.

-the person responsible for hurting you all this years set this process up, they wanted to take you down but not before…. - I paused, taking another breath before continuing looking down from his face to my hands over my lap - to make you reproduce another of your specie.

I don’t lie how much relief I felt after telling him, like a weight had left my chest. But no relief was enough to cover the pain of telling him the truth, the fear of losing him once he knows everything.

- I see… well, I expected that - he spat bitterly, getting up to leave.

That fear creeping inside my chest once again, I desperately held his hand before he could take another step.

- I couldn’t let them do that to you… - I tried to explain - that’s why I’ve been…

- that’s why you’ve been so kind to me? - he scoffed, pulling away from me - no wonder you’ve always been so against us being together.

- Yoongi…

- why don’t you go back to that Jin guy you like so much? - he spat.

When he took the first step away was filled by a an unsettling fear, I could no longer take this. I’ve been miserably trying to hide my feelings thinking this was the right the thing to do for him but now, after everything and seeing him go like that I couldn’t keep failing him.

- i said no more lies - I murmured holding his hand before he could walk away, pulling him closer till he was at the same height as my eyes - i.. i want to be with you too…

The words left my lips breathlessly, in that exact moment with him I realized I could no longer hide my feelings for him. I didn’t wanted to hurt him and keeping things from Yoongi all this time was the worst decision I made. So I took another deep breath as he kneeled down in font of me again, before I continued.

- the truth is, this whole time i was afraid - i tell him honestly - I didn’t know if any of this was right, when i first heard about your case I immediately knew i had to save you and now that i know everything i just… i dont wanna lose you Yoongi. I want you too.

At this point i was biting into my lower lip so hard to stop the tears from falling, looking anywhere but him right now. My face burned with shyness at my confession, it was too late to hide anything, too late to stop what we created when clearly none of us wants to.

I felt his hold on my chin again one arm closing around my waist as he pulled me in a hug. I held him tightly only realizing in that moment how badly I needed that, feeling his warm body against mine, all the bitterness from before completely melted away. As he pulled away from me enough only to look into my eyes, his lips brushing softly over my cheek i could feel a small smile forming over his lips.

- took you long enough… - he murmured against my cheek.

-Yoongi… - i groaned, feeling my eyes burn.

With those little words from him I knew everything was gonna be fine, as I rested my forehead against his feeling all the worries wash away from my mind as he softly caressed my jaw.

- mate with me y/n… - he murmured against my face softly - please, my whole body is burning for you if i don’t take you now I’m gonna go insane.

- but I’m human… I can’t - i said, nervously but he quickly cuts me off.

- that don’t mean anything to me, if you dont mind me as I’m - he said breathlessly, holding my chin to look into his dark glossy eyes.

- i don’t mind you at all…

- then… - he brushed his fingers softly over my jaw down my neck, pulling my shirt slightly down show more of the skin.

From the look in his eyes i knew exactly what he meant by that, i knew this was not the best choice to make in this moment but i didn’t wanted to stop him. I wanted him just as bad.

- you can bite me now….

I had no intention to deny it anymore how much I longed for Yoongi. All this time I’ve been helplessly trying to suppress my feelings for him, they only grew stronger. Now I can’t do that anymore, I don’t think I can ever see him again with someone else who isn’t me.

The words that left my lips seemed to initiate a fire in his dark eyes, I never seen before and just like a touch of a switch in a second he was a complete different him, burning desire under those glossy eyes stared right into mine before he finally claimed my lips between his.

A groan of pleasure raised from his chest vibrating through his whole body, pushing me back into the bed as he kneeled between my legs one hand beside my head to support his upper body.

He pulled away gently as he draws over my jaw with his fingers, my hands rested at my sides feeling my whole body melting at his touch. Eyes locked over his wet lips, he seemed to notice his effect over me chuckling softly before taking my bottom lip between his again this time sucking deliciously hard on it then pulling away once again, teasing me to his own pleasure.

- i taste blood on your lips…. - he murmured, I looked up to his eyes as he caressed said bottom lip.

- oh, sorry?

- why did you hurt yourself? - he asked, tracing down my jaw to my neck then sliding over my collar bones trespassing my shirt.

- I was…. nervous a guess… when I watched you guys…- my cheeks burned under his eyes, I could bearly form any sentences with his finger trailing down my chest.

- don’t do that again - he said, holding my chin up to look at his eyes - don’t hurt yourself because of me again.

- I won’t… i mean… no-

He cuts me off immediately with leaning down my lips to lick over my bottom lip, feeling his wet tongue over my lips were the end of me. All self control I thought I had were gone in that instant and pulling him even more closer to kiss him, finger closing between the back of his hair.

My own moan was engulfed by his groan against my lips as I claimed his tongue, kissing him hungrily.

I didn’t wanted that moment to end ever, to feel his hands rushing all over my body as our bodies bun with desire the need to feel each other growing at every second. In that moment nothing else mattered, it was just the two of us intertwined with each other, loving each other desperately how we’ve been yearning for.

I had no thoughts of a tomorrow, all I wanted was in this present moment. It never matter that he was a hybrid, I was attracted to him the moment my eyes fell over him. Knowing he was different, knowing everything and that he lied I still loved him. I still want him, for who he is no matter what.

Pulling his hair harder the moment he left my lips to leave kisses over my jaw, not trying to be careful anymore as he continued to leave love bite’s trailing down my neck.

- you’re mine.. - he whispers, kissing softly under my ear.

I closed my eyes harder feeling my whole body melt under him, holding into him tightly draining my face on his neck feeling his scales at the tip of my nose. A shaky breath leaving his lips in that moment and my entire body tingled at the knew erogenous spot I found on him, burning with excitement i begin to kiss softly over the scales on his neck feeling his breathing fastening above my skin.

A sentiment of accomplishment filled me encouraging me to be bolder and I carefully bit into his ear lobe, I didn’t know what I was doing and was immediately surprised when he held my arms above my head in a second after i bit him.

Looking up into his eyes as he leaned his forehead against mine completely breathless, cheeks red and sweat beginning to form on his skin. He seemed just as surprised.

- sorry… - I managed to mumble.

- no… I’ve never been bitten before, it’s so good… - he confessed.

- does it mean more to you? - I asked, still confused and hot under him.

He only nodded over me a smirk forming on his lips. My cheeks instantly turned red.

- means the same for when I bite you… - he murmured - you’re mating with me… you’re accepting me.

- Yoongi… - I free from his hold over my hands to close my arms around his neck pulling him closer to me - I’ll always accept you.

Claiming his lips with mine again, this time i could feel all his body melt above mine with all his worries washing off of him in that moment.

If only I could froze this moment with him and stay in here forever, maybe then I wouldn’t have to worry about tomorrow so much. If we would ever be able to be together like again.

Bold of me to assume this wouldn’t have any consequences, bold of me to let myself cross that line again today of all days.

The moment I heard the sound of the door opening I knew it was my doom and I didn’t think twice before pushing Yoongi away, quickly getting up into a sitting position as he reluctantly stood right there here not letting me go.

The mixed feelings I had in that moment would never be enough to describe how desperate I felt the second my eyes leaned over Jin’s figure standing right there.

No one said a single word for the longest second of my life, Jin looked at us then turned to the side showing his profile. Keeping his composure before speaking.

- I see what happened here, for now I need to speak in private with y/n - he said.

I couldn’t decipher what emotions exactly were crossing his eyes in that moment, I’ve never seen that side of him in all years of my career.

Looking up at Yoongi again pushing him by the chest slightly to get up this time he moved away for me, reluctantly but still. Before I could even take a step on Jin’s direction Yoongi held me back by the waist, turning to look at him now only to find his gaze staring back at Jin.

I could feel his whole body tensed up beside me and I knew he was ready to take matter in his own hands against Jin if he need to, this was not the best moment for such thing to happen Yoongi clearly took Jin’s words as a confrontation, a challenge against him over me.

- shit, Jin… I… - I breathed out shakily.

Noticing how I felt Yoongi instantly held my waist tighter.

- i don’t intend on making things more difficult than they have to be - Jin said, yes looking over Yoongi.

- really? Doesn’t look like - Yoongi spat at him, taking front of me protectively.

- no, Yoongi is fine… I should talk with him - i said, gently holding his arm.

He kept his gaze over Jin’s figure before slowly looking back at me.

- you’re leaving me… - it wasn’t a question.

- I’m not… ever - I murmured back to him, holding his face between my hands as i softly caressed his ear lobe the same I had bitten into before - I’m yours and you’re mine.

He closed his eyes leaning over my touch before slowly nodding.

- i’ll be right back okay? - at my words he opened his eyes, looking at Jin before turning back to me.

- ok.

I didn’t wanted to.

But I had to go now and fix things with Jin or else things my go down pretty badly especially since Yoongi feels like his territory has just been invaded, he was still under heat and could act out at Jin. I would hate to happen because of me, I must clear this out now. That is if I can even do that, i knew this would happen sooner or later I just hoped it could’ve at least wait until tomorrow.

With one last look at Yoongi taking a picture of his beautiful face right now to look back whenever I wanted to, I didn’t know how things would go from now or if I would ever get another chance to see him. I could only hope for.

I turned around to leave fallowing as Jin exists the room leaving the door opened for me, i don’t look back if I did I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to leave.

In my head I couldn’t even complain about my own stupidity, feeling like a child that was going to be lectured by her parents for not fallowing the rules. I didn’t meet Jin’s gaze once we were out of Yoongis room, being embraced by the cold air the corridors of the seventh floor. I felt even smaller under his gaze.

He stood there in front of me not saying anything and I could only feel my anxiousness grow, bitting into my bottom lip I feared now would be the last time I’d see Yoongi.

- y/n…

- shit, Jin! - I interrupted him, helplessly feeling like my whole world has coming to an end. Eye burning with tears.

- y/n let me begin… - he said, hands holding my shoulders to make me look at him and I did.

I expected to see anger on his eyes, disgust even disappointment but I didn’t. He still had the same softness in his features as he always had.

- i understand, okay? - he softly said - i… know it might sound crazy but, is okay.

Is okay?

- what? Why?

- you… you’re just like my mom - he sighted, a small smile forming on his lips.

I was completely at loss for words, just what was happening right now?

I felt like I was getting dizzy at this point, I couldn’t understand a single word that came out of his mouth. I know Jin was a kind soul but this doesn’t make any sense to me, he shouldn’t be okay with this. What is happening?

All the years I spent working with Jin brought us closer to the point I knew, the more I looked into his eyes I knew something wasn’t right, he was hiding something from me in that moment and i wants sure if I truly wanted to hear it now.

- I’m so sorry to throw this at you now, I’ll explain everything later - he said, and I begin to feel even more anxious - all you need to now now is that, Yoongi is… he’s my brother.

Then the ground underneath me opened and swallowed me whole.

Shit, Jin.

Note: Jin watching the drama unfolds in the other room like 👁️👄👁️. Finally heeeeeereeeee god this was a ride. I hope you guys like this chapter as much as I liked (and stressed over it) to write. WHAT THEY BROTHERS??!

See you guys on the next one!!! It’s not too long but I think is good. Sorry for any grammatical errors! Love you all!!

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