#i have things to say but i hate leaving in the middle of things so i'll write it when i get back

[latteodyssey]

‘cause my baby's sweet as can be | being damian wayne’s love interest headcannons˚｡⋆ ୨୧

masterlist

craving your company. — he didn’t like admitting it to himself at first, that as much as he would make snarky comments about how annoying it was that you wouldn’t leave him alone, he started missing you deeply when you weren’t around. his head was gradually consumed by thoughts about how much you would have to talk about the topic of conversation that someone just mentioned, or how you would have made a comment about the scene from the movie he was currently watching.

deny, deny, deny. — he’s a stubborn man, it took days of spiraling and coming up with theories as to why he felt that way, before he finally came to terms with the fact that he’s into you. It had nothing to do with who you are as a person, but it had everything to do with him refusing to accept being vulnerable, accepting that he had no control over how he felt. And god knows how much he hated when things were out of his control.

the way you had such a deep effect on him without even knowing made him terrified to say the least.

doesn’t know how to act— he didn’t approach you right away after realizing the nature of his feelings for you, instead, you would often catch him staring at you, eyebrows furrowed. he would worry so much about his next move, his next line, that he wouldn’t even notice the face of extreme concentration he was making – which you would often mistake for annoyance.

“are you mad at me?” you asked, a mixture of concern and confusion filling your voice as you try to make sense out of the situation “you’re looking at me like you are”.

“i assure you I’m not” he answered in a matter of fact way, which did nothing to calm your nerves. little did you know, he was trying to control his own “you can continue on with your story”.

he’s terrible at giving compliments — instead, he makes observations, about the little things he notices about you, about the moments where he missed your presence – but he tells you in a way that you can’t tell if he’s being nice or sending a corporate email. "y/n. you’ve changed your hair.", “you weren’t at patrol/school today”.

makes excuses to hang out with you — damian always looks forward to spending time by your side, even if it’s just accompanying you while you do mundane things. suddenly it’s “I have nothing better to do” or “i don’t trust you to successfully achieve this alone, so I’ll come with you”.

practicing it in his head — he can’t just say how he feels, it needs to be done in the most perfect and efficient way possible. he spent days planning the way he would confess how he feels about you, where he would do it, exactly how he would say it, and how he would react to any possible outcome. he ends up doing it in the middle of an argument, unplanned.

“you’re so annoying, i don’t even know why I’m in love with you!”

a creature of habit — damian eventually got used, and attached to, the routine aspects of your relationship, it gave him a sense of stability deeply cherishes . the way you always kissed his cheek when you would part ways, the way you reach for his hand when walking, the fact that you call him just to say goodnight. and he misses these little things in case you end up forgetting.

you'll be drifting off to sleep when you hear your phone ringing, the blue light illuminating your face as damian's contact pops up on the screen. you pick up the call, there's a quick moment of silence before you hear his voice, heavy with sleepiness. "you didn't wish me goodnight."

“you called me just for that?”

“You don’t desire for me to have a good night?”

old fashioned terms of endearment — beloved, darling, and dear are his go-to nicknames for you. When talking to other people, he might refer to you as “my y/n” often.

using you as a human pillow — similarly to a cat, he approaches you silently, almost like he's expecting you to read his mind, resting his head against your shoulder, or laying it your lap. he's especially happy when you gently run your fingers through his hair. he feels almost addicted to your touch, the warmth of your hand against his skin.

[freakmcnastyy]

Weak Hero Boys x P!Reader Headcanons

Weak Hero Class boys x pregnant!reader (fluff)

Includes: Geum Seongjae,Na Baekjin, Ahn Suho, Yeon Si-eun, Kang Woo-young, Oh Beom-seok, Go Hyuntak, Park Humin (Baku)

Note: This was an anon request! AND GOD, I swear writing — let alone reading — stuff like this makes me feel all kinds of weird. And I wrote each character at a different time of day so they wouldn’t all feel the same. Hope I pulled it off.

⸻

Geum Seongjae

1. The Moment He Finds Out:

Silence. He just stares. Then his lip twitches.

The second you tell him you’re pregnant, Seongjae goes quiet for a few seconds. He looks unbothered on the outside, but you know a thousand things are racing through his head. In that moment, his whole “world” shifts.

“I knew no one else could ever give me something like this.”

He says it softly, but something breaks in his eyes — like the idea of ever letting you go has become completely impossible.

2. Possessiveness:

Obsession. Protection. Paranoia.

He’s not just protecting you anymore, but everything you’re carrying inside you. Even the tiniest bit of stress is enough reason for him to lock you in the house. If someone bumps into you by accident? Seongjae might beat them up in the middle of the street without a second thought.

“I better not see you cry again. I’m dead serious.”

Even the dark circles under your eyes feel like a personal insult to him.

3. Physical Obsession:

He’s obsessed with your belly. Every time he talks to you, his hand goes there like a reflex. At night, he lays his head against it and whispers things to the baby. He starts acting like a “family” way before the baby’s even born — but not in a normal way.

“There’s a piece of me inside you. That means you don’t get to leave. Ever.”

4. Jealousy & Going Insane:

Another guy checking you out while you’re pregnant? Your best friend trying to take you out of the house? It’s all a problem. At some point, he might even try to hide the fact that you’re pregnant altogether.

“Don’t wear that. There’s no reason to show your stomach like that. People don’t need to see. That’s mine.”

5. Random Kindness Spikes:

He’ll suddenly start talking about baby room ideas, sweet little dreams, out of nowhere. In those moments he seems normal, like a regular excited dad — but there’s always a breakdown bubbling underneath.

“If it’s a girl, you can name her. But if it’s a boy… I’ll decide.”

6. Before & After the Birth:

The closer it gets to your due date, the more controlling he becomes. He chooses the hospital, who’s allowed in the room, even the nurse that’s going to be with you.

“If anything goes wrong… someone’s paying for it. Got it?”

And after the birth? He isolates you, the baby, and himself like it’s a three-person world. He wants to build everything from zero — just you three.

“It’s only us now. Everyone else out there is dangerous. What else do I need to do to make you understand that?”

⸻

Na Baekjin

1. When He Finds Out:

Silence. He masks his emotions, but his pupils shake. After you tell him, he holds your gaze — and stays exactly the same. Cold. Serious. Neither happy nor mad. Then he lowers his head a little.

“Is it mine?”

He trusts you. He does. But he still asks — not because he doubts you, but because he wants to believe so bad it physically hurts. And maybe… because he hates himself a little too much.

2. He Doesn’t Say “I Can’t Be a Dad,” but…

Responsibility? That’s not something he’s ever believed he deserved. He tells himself, “Someone like me can’t raise a child.” But he still parks outside your place every night, just watching. Making sure nothing happens.

“Don’t be alone. I’m behind you like a shadow — just act like I’m not there.”

3. His Way of Protecting You:

Silent. Brutal. Shadowed. Baekjin never publicly claims you. But anyone who threatens you? They start disappearing one by one. He’s given a silent order across the whole Union.

“If anyone even thinks about getting close to her — they better have their grave ready.”

4. How He Sees the Pregnancy:

It’s guilt mixed with obsession. When he sees your belly, his eyes freeze for a second. Because there’s a life inside you — his life — and he’s still struggling to believe something so pure could come from someone like him.

“If I were someone cleaner… maybe we could’ve really had this together.”

Still, his hands always go to your stomach. Every time he touches you, it’s careful. Gentle. Like he thinks you might break.

5. He Cuts You Off From the World:

The closer it gets to your due date, the more he isolates you. Friends? Family? Opinions? None of it matters to him.

“I don’t care what anyone says. If something happens to you… I’ll burn the f*cking world down.”

6. “Family” Becomes Real for the First Time:

Baekjin never had warmth growing up. Never had a real home. But now? Now the idea of building a house — not a place, but a feeling — with you and the baby is something he clings to in the dark. One night, he says without thinking:

“If someone had hugged me growing up… maybe I could’ve loved as good as you do.”

7. After the Baby’s Born:

He’s a wall. Cold, distant. But always there. He won’t hold the baby and coo over it, no. But he stands by the crib at night while you sleep, silently watching the tiny hand curled around his finger.

“Would it be okay… if I picked the name?”

⸻

Ahn Suho

1. When He Finds Out:

Shocked. Eyes wide. “Wait, what? Are you serious?! We’re PREGNANT?!”

At first, it doesn’t compute. He asks you to repeat it like three times. Then his hands start shaking. He might even tear up.

“I’m… I’m gonna be a dad? For real?!”

His first reaction is pure joy — mixed with straight-up panic. He wants to pick you up and spin you around, but the moment you say “Stop, I’m nauseous!” he freezes and immediately puts you down.

2. Ridiculously Affectionate:

He flips into “mom mode” in two seconds. Tries cooking for you, watches YouTube videos on pregnancy massages, double-checks every corner of the house like “is this safe for her? for the baby?”

“No more junk food. Less salt. Sit down, feet up. This baby’s not stressing you out!”

3. Fighting His Own Demons:

Deep down, he thinks, “I didn’t have a good childhood… what if I mess this up too?”

But he never says it out loud. He just holds you at night and whispers to your belly:

“If I raise this baby with someone like you… maybe I won’t mess it up.”

4. Emotional Rollercoaster:

Your hormones? Yeah, his are worse. You cry, he cries. You snap, he sulks — but then brings you a fruit bowl with a pouty face. One time, you probably ended up ugly crying together while eating stuffed grape leaves.

5. Silent Jealousy:

If he sees you talking to another guy? His whole vibe shifts. He won’t say anything, but the pout, the slumped shoulders, the quiet little stares — they’re all there.

“Go out if you want, just… wear something warm. And text me. At every step. I just— I worry, okay?”

6. The Birth Itself:

Sweating. Shaking. Crying. Loving. If they let him in the room, he’s right there, holding your hand like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. If they don’t — he’s on his knees outside the door, praying like his whole soul’s in it.

“You’re both okay, right? Please… that’s all I need.”

⸻

Yeon Si-eun

1. When He Finds Out:

His brain literally freezes for a second before it starts processing. When you say “I’m pregnant,” Si-eun just stares at you in silence. No yelling. No running. No hugs. His hands tremble a little.

“How long has it been? Are you okay? How many weeks?”

He hides his emotions — but every question screams, “I’m scared to death of losing you.”

2. Switches to Practical, Strategic Dad Mode:

Hospital? Booked. Doctor? Researched. Nutrition? Charted. Stress? Monitored.

“You’re not eating anything on this list. I’m serious.”

But also:

“But… if you’re craving something… I kinda snuck in a little chocolate. Please don’t be mad.”

3. He Suppresses Emotion, But Never Leaves You Alone:

He didn’t grow up with love, so he genuinely has no clue how to treat you or the baby. But one thing’s for sure: he’s not going anywhere.

He’s not the jealous type — but he is controlling. He won’t say “who did you hang out with?” but he’ll definitely check your phone later and mentally profile anyone who could hurt you.

“Don’t see anyone who might stress you out. Please. Not for me — for our child.”

⸻

Kang Woo-young

1. When He Finds Out:

Silence. Eyes on the floor. Then suddenly, his breath catches. He doesn’t say a word at first — just stares blankly. But if you look closely, you’ll see he literally forgot how to breathe.

“…I’m gonna be a dad?”

His voice shakes, but he tries to play it off. His jaw clenches.

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll figure this out. Just give me a little time.”

And then he leaves — not because he doesn’t care, but because he never planned to build a family. It was always just you and him. But later that night, he comes back. Finds you asleep, puffy-eyed from crying. Slips into bed behind you, holds you tight, buries his face in your neck.

“Don’t ever think you’re alone. No matter what… I’m here.”

2. Shows Love Through Actions, Not Words:

He can’t cook soup, but he’ll leave water by your bed every night. He can’t write you poetry, but he’ll tie your shoelaces without a word. And the first time your belly starts to show, his eyes well up.

“God, this is so weird. But so beautiful.”

3. Protection Style:

Quiet But Deadly.

Someone bumped into you? Woo-young doesn’t say a word. But a few days later, you’ll hear that guy got beat half to death in some underground ring.

He promises no more fights — “for the baby.” But of course he still does it.

4. Obsessed With Your Belly — But Too Shy To Show It:

His eyes keep drifting to your stomach when he talks to you. But he’s too shy to touch it. One night, you place his hand there — and he literally forgets how to breathe. His fingers tremble.

“Did you really love me this much?”

That night, for the first time, he rests his head on your belly and whispers for hours:

“Don’t be like your mom. She’s too soft. This world’s harsh.”

5. Emotional Breakdowns: Silent Crying:

As your pregnancy progresses, every time he feels like he’s not doing enough, tears fall. But he hides in the bathroom so you won’t see.

“I have to be strong. For both of you.”

6. Day of the Birth:

Looks like he just stepped out of a street fight. Doesn’t yell at the doctors, but the fire in his eyes says enough.

7. Fatherhood:

He can’t stop the baby from crying. Can’t change a diaper right. But every single night, he stays up beside the crib. He lets you cry in his lap without saying a word.

“You don’t have to be scared. I’m right here. Always.”

⸻

Oh Beom-seok

1. When He Finds Out:

Stares blankly. He thinks you’re joking at first.

“Wait… are you serious? From me? Like, really…?”

Then his voice breaks. His eyes fill up, but he tries not to cry. Honestly? His world crashes down. Because his dad… well, you know. And it’s not about what’ll happen to him — it’s the fear of something happening to you or the baby.

“I’m gonna… be a dad?”

His voice cracks saying it. Because his father made sure the word “dad” left a scar on his soul.

2. Wants To Run — But Can’t:

In his head: “I’m someone who doesn’t know love, who grew up on violence, who shuts everyone out. What do I have to do with someone like you?”

But leaving you would be death to him. So instead, he goes quiet. Closes in on himself.

“I don’t want to hurt you… so I might keep my distance for a while. But I won’t leave. I promise.”

3. Blames Himself Deeply:

Lays in bed staring at the ceiling every night.

“What if I turn out like him? What if I am him?”

4. Hyper Emotional, Super Fragile:

Every time you’re tired, he blames himself. Don’t feel like eating? He tears up, thinking he messed something up.

“I can’t stand seeing you upset. I’ve already been so awful… don’t turn into me.”

To him, your pregnant body feels sacred. Sometimes he can’t even touch you.

“You’re carrying something inside you now. I don’t even wanna accidentally hurt you. I’m scared.”

6. The Birth:

He breaks. Shaking. Sitting in some hospital hallway, hands covering his face, sobbing like the world’s ending.

“Please… God, please don’t take her from me.”

7. Fatherhood:

Slow, but deeply tender. Doesn’t know how to hold a baby. But watches over yours every second of the night. Talks to the baby while you sleep.

And one day, watching the two of you together — he smiles. For the first time. A real, slow, genuine smile.

“I thought I had no place in this world. But… you gave me a room in it.”

⸻

Go Hyun-tak

1. When He Finds Out:

This man goes feral. In a good way. Just stands there with this shocked, joy-filled smile, completely speechless. Then suddenly:

“Wait WHAT? OUR baby? PROJECT LEBRON JAMES BEGINS!”

2. Protective Soft Side Comes Out:

He shows up for every single doctor’s appointment. Tries to learn everything he can. At home, he leaves little surprises — hot soup, a fruit plate, a stack of pillows. But he does it shyly, almost embarrassed.

“You feeling okay matters more to me than anything.”

3. His Excitement Is Contagious:

Shopping for the baby? He treats it like a mission. Toys, clothes, the perfect paint color for the nursery — he’s got opinions.

“Our baby’s gonna sleep in the nicest room on the block, alright?”

4. Tiny Panic Attacks — But He Bounces Back:

He sometimes spirals like “what if we’re not ready?” But then breathes in, looks at you, and says:

“We’re in this together. No matter what. We’ve got this.”

5. Jealousy Is Soft & Silly:

Sees you chatting with another guy? Pouts a little. Then immediately smiles again.

“Sorry… I just. You’re kinda my whole world.”

6. Birth Time = Full Support Mode:

He’s right beside you, holding your hand, hyping you up with every push.

“You’re strong. I’m right here.”

When the baby cries for the first time, he’s standing right there, trying to feed it with trembling hands.

“Look at our tiny Lebron James.”

7. Dives Into Dad Life Fast:

He’s hungry to learn. Wakes up for every night feeding, writes down every little milestone.

“We’re building something new. You, me, and our baby. It’s gonna be amazing.”

⸻

Park Humin (Baku)

1. When He Finds Out:

He screams. For real. Like he just scored the game-winning goal in the final second. Pure, goofy, chaotic happiness.

2. A Little Insecure:

His relationship with his dad? Yeah. Complicated as hell. He’s terrified of telling him, and even more scared he might turn into him. Just like Beom-seok, he fears becoming a bad father.

3. Quiet, Emotional Protection:

With you? He’s tough. Out in public? He smiles and holds your hand like you’re fragile glass.

“No one’s touching you. Baku’s right here.”

But when he’s alone, his chest aches with the memories of his dad.

4. Tiny Surprises & Care:

You’re tired? He sets up cute little things around the house. Brings your favorite dessert. Buys fresh chicken from your favorite spot.

“I know this isn’t easy… but we’ve got this. Together.”

5. Jealousy & Trust:

Sees you talking to other guys? His eyes tear up — but he never says a word. Keeps it buried.

“Just… understand me, okay? I just wanna protect you.”

6. During Birth:

Nervous as hell but stands strong. His palms sweat like crazy, but he holds your hand the whole time.

“You’re gonna be okay. You and the baby — you’re both okay.”

7. Fatherhood:

Soft. Steady. Scared. But loving. He’s clumsy at first, scared to touch the baby. But he never leaves your side. Stands by the crib every night.

“I’m not just here for you anymore. I’m here for them too.”

[lucysarah1875]

I got this ask:

OMG I CANT BELIEVE YOU RELYED TO MY STUPID QUESTION okay lol for cannon Levi how would he react to u telling him ur pregnant like when all the war stuff and eren is still going on,....HDJDJ

WARNINGS: Mentions of pregnancy interruption (abortion) and sex.

I’ve read a lot of scenarios and headcanons about Levi, and I’ve noticed a big portion of the fandom assumes he wouldn’t be supportive of abortion because of his past. But in my humble opinion—very few kids are actually planned, lol.

From my perspective, most parents think twice before continuing a pregnancy that wasn’t intended, and I don’t see why Levi would be any different. Yes, his mother chose to keep him—and what? His s/o is not his mother, and he’s not his father. What Kuchel decided was her choice, and it has nothing to do with this. So just to make my stance on the topic clear: I truly believe Levi would let his partner decide. Her body, her choice.

That said, if this happened in the middle of the conflict with Marley, I think Levi would gently suggest that abortion might be the wise choice.

On a practical note, Isayama mentioned that the Scouts earn some of the lowest wages in the military. Kids are expensive. That needs to be taken into account too. If Levi’s s/o is a soldier and wants to keep the child... I know this might sound misogynistic, but canon isn’t set in 2021. Bye-bye to her military career.

Let’s be real: a soldier who gets pregnant isn’t going to be allowed to stay in the barracks or go on missions. No matter how strong or capable she is, the structure just wouldn’t allow it. The barracks aren’t daycares.

So how would Levi react to an unplanned pregnancy?

He wasn’t expecting it. At all. His first reaction? Shock, frustration, fear. That kind of quiet dread that shows up in his expression and his posture.

But once he realizes his partner is the one carrying the real weight of this—physically and emotionally—he’ll steady himself. Levi would calm down and become the rational one. Something like:

“We’re both adults. We both knew getting laid could come with this kind of... side effect.”

(Excellent choice of words, Levi. So charming. So delicate.)

At that point, he’d want to have a real conversation about their options. And yeah—there are only two: keeping the pregnancy or not.

If the decision is to end the pregnancy: Levi would be incredibly supportive. It’s not easy. It’s not a happy or painless decision. And the medical conditions in canon aren't as safe or advanced as ours, so the whole thing would come with physical and emotional risks.

Levi would be there through all of it. He might not say the perfect thing every time, but he’ll do anything his partner needs him to do. He’d hate seeing them go through that, but he wouldn’t abandon them or guilt them for it. Ever.

If the decision is to continue the pregnancy: Also not easy. It’s a life-changing event. Levi wouldn’t be thrilled at first, but he’d accept it. He’d start adjusting—slowly. You’d start to notice the little things first: his hand resting on her belly, even before it’s showing. Weird and horrible baby name suggestions that sound like insults but are actually his way of engaging. ("What about naming it... Shitbag? No? Too much?")

They’d find a place for her to live—close to the Scouts’ base, so Levi can check in on her and the baby as often as he can. He didn’t have a father. He saw firsthand what it’s like for a woman to raise a child alone. And he won’t let that happen. Not on his watch.

If they choose to keep the baby, Levi would take it as a mission. Like a personal challenge to prove he’s not like the men from his past. He would not run away. He would not leave it all to his partner. He would show up—again and again, even if it’s hard. That’s just who he is.

When the baby is born? He’d probably be stunned. Moved in a way he didn’t expect. This tiny, perfect thing in his hands? Yeah, Levi would be touched. Deeply.

At the end of the day, Levi adores his s/o. Whatever she decides, he’s going to be there. They made this together. And they’re going to figure it out together. Even if it means changing everything.

Bonus Headcanon:

Levi coming back to Paradis after the Rumbling—battered, depressed, weighed down by all the lives lost… And then suddenly seeing his partner alive and safe, holding his child in her arms?

😭 Too much. That image would wreck him. Maybe now that the war is over, he could actually be there. Be a dad—for real. And who knows? Maybe this time, they’ll even plan for it.

P.S. I write a lot about Teen Levi, but Father Levi? That’s another obsession of mine, lol. I’ve actually posted a few things about him as a dad, and I’d love to expand on this idea—Levi adjusting to a normal life, learning how to parent, maybe even dealing with his son growing up post-rumbling-era.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

A Long Time Coming

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: minor angst, implied smut

Summary: You and Sam have always been just friends, but Dean can see you two have been wanting more for quite a while. It’s only a matter of who breaks first. When you get asked out on a date, Dean makes sure Sam goes so he can keep an eye on you, and he hopes this is what it takes for Sam to confess how he’s been feeling.

Square Filled: “I think you look great, (name). As far as I'm concerned, that's America's ass.” (2022) for @spnquotebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated! <3

x

What Sam and Dean Winchester do is admirable. They help those in need from monsters that invade our world. Not everyone knows what’s going on, but they don’t care about gratuity. All they want to see is a world rid of monsters. You’re not a hunter, you’re far from it. In fact, you work at the local flower shop as a florist. That’s your passion. Plants.

It’s why the Bunker has become a sanctuary for nature. You bring home your work and even have a garden growing outside. The place is surrounded by dead grass and trees, so you built a box big enough to have not only a flower garden but a food garden. Sam doesn’t mind since it’s getting him to eat healthier, but Dean hates it.

Still, he doesn’t say anything when he sees a new plant added to the family.

Dean knows more than he lets on. He’s learned that to be the smartest in the room, shut up about most things. One of the things he’s noticed from your time living at the Bunker is how crazy his brother is about you. He sees it in the way Sam looks at you when you’re not paying attention. He sees the way you look at Sam with such admiration and love in your eyes. Sam doesn’t see it because he's a fucking idiot, and you don’t see it because you don’t think Sam would ever love you the way you love him.

So, Dean is stuck in the middle while you beat around the bush every fucking second of every fucking day.

Dean walks into the library and sees you and Sam sitting down surrounded by books. He fights the smirk that threatens to show up because he knows how much you hate reading. Anything. You think it’s boring, yet here you are doing it with Sam. Anything for him, right?

“What are you two doing?” he asks.

“Researching,” Sam answers.

“And you just volunteered your time?” Dean asks you.

“What? I love reading.” Even saying it makes you want to throw up, but you swallow the urge down. “Sam needs help, and I had nothing to do.”

“Mmhmm. What are you reading?”

“Just a book on the lore of archangels. When we rescued all those refugees from the Other World, we raided their libraries. It’s interesting to see how they differ from the archangels of our world.”

As Sam speaks, you’re looking up at him with a dreamy look in your eyes. Sam doesn’t notice with the way his nose is buried in the book, but that’s okay. Dean sees it, and he wants to throw up.

“Well, have fun, you wild kids.” Dean is about to leave when he sees something on the back of his brother’s hand. “What the hell is that?”

There are different color lines on the back of Sam’s hand, ranging from dark to light, glitter to normal.

“Nothing,” Sam mutters.

“I agreed to help Sam read if he agreed to come to Sephora with me. I need new makeup, and he offered to be my swatch sampler,” you reveal.

“Wait, let me get this straight.” Dean can’t wipe the smile off his face. “You willingly went to Sephora and let Y/N put a bunch of makeup samples on your skin? Do you feel like a pretty princess?”

“Get the fuck out.”

Sam is about to throw a book at Dean’s head, but the older Winchester ducks out at the last second.

“Don’t listen to him, Sam. I appreciate you coming with me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sam feels a sense of pride knowing he was able to do this for you. Sure, you could have done it on your own, but the fact is that you asked him to do it for you. Like Dean thinks, you have the hots for Sam just like he has the hots for you, but neither of you will remove the film from your eyes to see it.

Your phone rings on the table, and you look at the message from the guy you’ve been talking to on Tinder. Sam knows what the Tinder ringtone is, and he tries not to stiffen up at the sound of it. Never did you think you would ever use Tinder, but you can’t be held up on Sam forever. If he never gives you any clue that he’s into you, you don’t want to wait around for a maybe.

You either need to get the courage to tell him how you feel or move on. You choose the easier option, thus, Tinder.

“Another date?” Sam asks quietly.

“Yeah. Tonight. He wants to take me out for drinks.”

“Oh, okay. Have fun, then.”

You look at Sam but he refuses to look at you. Yeah, there’s no way Sam likes you. He can barely look at you.

“Thanks. I should go get ready.”

Sam’s shoulders sag once you’re gone, and he slams the book closed. He can’t focus on reading now. All he can focus on is the fact that you’re going out with some stranger, and that stranger might have his hands all over you. He knows all about Tinder and what it actually means.

If you bring that man back here to have sex, he’s going to fucking lose it.

You just finished putting on your dress when Dean knocks on your door. Once you give the verbal okay for him to come in, he does. He doesn’t walk in, just leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you really going to go out on a date?”

“Why not? I’m a single young woman. What’s the big deal?”

“Sam is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

“What do you want me to say, Dean? That I’m okay with staying inside and reading with Sam every day? No. If I want to go on Tinder and hook up with a guy, then I’m going to. It’s not my fault Sam isn’t man enough to do anything about it. That's saying he wants to do something about it.”

“He does.”

“Sure.” You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m not waiting around for something that may or may not happen. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish getting ready.”

Dean isn’t going to make any progress with you, so he leaves in search of his brother. Sam is still at the library table, staring at nothing.

“Are you really going to let her go on a date?”

Sam snaps out of his trance and shrugs. “She’s a grown woman. She can do whatever she wants.”

“Oh, okay. Sure. She’s going to meet up with this man, have drinks with him, get drunk with him, and allow him to kiss her.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam grits out.

“I can just picture it now. He slides his hands over her thighs and underneath her dress. She's drunk, so she can’t really give consent, but he kisses her anyway with his fingers so close to her pu—”

“God damn it, Dean.”

Sam gets up and storms to his room, and Dean snickers. It’s so easy to rile his younger brother up. Maybe this time, you two will get over this unspoken thing and fuck each other.

Once you’re ready, you say goodbye to the brothers and head out. Dean is letting you use his Impala this one time because he doesn’t want you to take a cab or walk. You get to the bar where Joshua is waiting for you. He seems nice enough, so maybe this might not be so bad.

“Joshua?” He looks at you. “It’s Y/N.”

“Wow, you look even more beautiful than your pictures.”

“Oh, thank you,” you blush.

“I already ordered you a drink. I hope you like it.”

You never take a drink that you didn’t see get made, but you don’t want to be rude, either. You take the drink but don’t sip from it. Joshua doesn’t seem to notice and takes out his phone to look at something. You take this moment to get the bartender’s attention.

“Hi, my date ordered this drink for me, but I didn’t see it get made. Do you think I can have another one?”

“Sure thing,” she smiles.

Smart girl, Sam thinks. He’s sitting across the bar, just watching to make sure you’re okay. He’s not going to let anything happen to you even if you don’t know he’s here.

“So, what is it that you do?” Joshua asks once he’s off his phone.

“Oh, I’m a florist. I love everything plants. I actually have—”

“Yeah, I work in sales.” You stop talking the second he opens his mouth. You can’t really be surprised. This is a Tinder date. It’s not like he’s looking for a meaningful relationship. “I’m very good at my job. I can talk someone who hates our product into buying a subscription for an entire year.”

“Wow.” You take your glass from the bartender. “Good for you.”

“Right?”

Joshua rambles on about how great he is, and you’re starting to regret coming out. What can you expect from Tinder? You’re just glad that he isn’t looking for sex right away. You would have left if he did.

“Hey, do you want to head to a different bar? It’s kind of crowded for my taste.”

“Uh, sure. Why not?”

You finish your drink and follow Joshua out of the bar. Yes, you drove here, but you’re okay with leaving the car here if you’re not going to go far. There are a lot of bars around the area, but Joshua walks past most of them. The one he stops at is nearly three blocks from the one you were just at. You have on a nice sundress that falls just above your knees, and cute heels. If you knew this evening would turn into a bar crawl, you would have worn different shoes.

You and Joshua don’t stay at the second bar for long. After a few drinks and more talking from him, he escorts you to another bar. Sam has been following the whole time, and he can see that you’re not into this as much as you thought you were going to be.

By the fourth bar, your feet are killing you. You’re not used to wearing heels all the time. You work in a flower shop. You don’t need to always be so dressed up. Joshua orders two drinks even though you haven’t finished your first one. You haven’t been drinking a whole lot, but you’re a lightweight. You’re already buzzed, and you’ll slide right into drunk if you continue drinking.

“Hey, Joshua, do you mind if we stay here for the rest of the night?”

“Why would we do that?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be a big deal, but I’m wearing heels. We’ve been standing and walking everywhere, and my feet are starting to hurt. I’m cool to chill here if you are.”

Joshua looks at your shoes and scoffs. “It’s not my fault you decided to wear heels on a date.”

Is he serious right now?

“It’s not my fault you decided this date was a bar crawl. I’m out of here.”

You leave Joshua hanging at the bar and make your way through the crowded bar. You know he’s here. You’ve felt him at every bar you’ve been to, and all you want is for him to take you home. You’re too drunk to drive, but you do remember where you’ve put the Impala. Dean would kill you if you left his baby in the city.

“Sam!” you call out when you see him. He lifts his head when he hears his name, and he actually blushes a bit at being caught. “Take me home, yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be when I get home. You know where the Impala is, right?”

“Yeah. Keys?”

You hand him the keys, and you two leave the bar together. The night is starting to dwindle down, and you walk next to Sam.

“Sorry you had to come out to babysit me.”

“No, it’s not babysitting. I was just making sure you were okay. He didn't hurt you, did he?”

“No, he didn’t. Other than a bruised ego, I’m fine.”

You and Sam continue on in silence. The only noise is the clacking of your heels on the concrete. Sam is much taller than you, therefore, he takes bigger steps. He doesn’t realize you’ve been falling behind until he notices you’re not next to him. He pauses and sees you several paces behind him. He knows you normally don’t wear heels, so he can only assume that they are hurting you.

Sam shrugs off his jacket and walks over to you. He wraps it around your waist and secures it by tying the sleeves together, and you look up at him in confusion.

“What are you—Sam!!”

You’re caught off guard when Sam grabs your waist and slings you over his shoulder. He keeps one arm wrapped around your thighs and the other hand on the back of your ankles to keep you in place. You put your hands on his back to steady yourself, otherwise you might throw up.

“Sam! Put me down! I can walk. Yes, my feet hurt, but you don’t have to carry me.” Drinking all night and the sudden rush of blood to your head is enough to make you feel drunk. “Whoa.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you giggle. You slap his ass and gasp when you receive the same treatment. “Hey!”

“You slap my ass, I’ll slap yours.”

“It’s not my fault you have such a great ass. Have you seen you in jeans? God forbid, sweatpants? I’m only human, Sam.”

“I can say the same thing about you.”

“Yeah, right.” Someone whistles, and you see a group of women staring at Sam. It makes you a bit jealous, but can you blame them? “Ooh, I think someone likes you.”

“I have my handful right here,” he chuckles.

“Oh, come on! I can get Dean to pick me up. Go for it, Sam. Get yours.”

“Will you shut up?”

“I think they’re checking out your ass. I think you look great, Sam. As far as I'm concerned, that's America's ass.”

Sam finds the Impala and stops right beside it. He gently lowers you to your feet, allowing your body to practically slide down his. You cling to him as you go down, staring into his eyes the whole time. The air is thick with tension, but the good kind of tension that is usually fixed with a kiss. Ha! The thought of kissing Sam makes you weak in the knees, but does he want to kiss you? The look in his eyes says he does, but maybe that’s irritation for following you all night.

He opens the passenger door for you, and you slide inside. The car ride home is silent because all you can think about is kissing Sam. All Sam can think of is the way your body felt against his. Even in your inebriated state, you can tell Sam is irritated. At what or who, you’re not sure, but you can take a guess.

“So, are we going to talk about it?”

Sam backs you up into the kitchen island and drops to his knees. With a gentle touch, he removes your shoes. “Talk about what?”

“Come on, why are you so pissy?” Sam rolls his eyes and is about to walk away when you grab his thick bicep. “No, no, no. You’re not walking away from me. We’re talking about this. Are you mad at me? I didn’t ask you to pick me up. I was content walking the whole way.”

“Oh, my God,” he mutters under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I’m sorry you had to come out and babysit me the entire night. I bet all you wanted to do was sit inside and read your books.”

“Will you drop it before I get pissed off?”

”No, tell me what’s wrong? If it’s not me or the fact that you had to carry me, then what?”

Sam has been simmering all night, and this is the moment when it spills out.

“God, I am so sick and tired of you going out with boys and not men.”

You can’t help the bubble of laughter that comes out. “What the fuck are you talking about? Who would you prefer me to date? Old white men who can’t get it up?”

“Me.” His confession makes all the laughter die. He pins you to the kitchen island and puts his hands on either side of you so that you can’t escape him. Not that you’d want to. “You have no idea how hard it is to watch you flirt with men when all I want to do is grab you and kiss you like how you’re meant to be kissed. They could never treat you as well as I could.”

“What are you saying?” you whisper.

“Let me show you instead of telling you.”

Sam slides his hands into your hair and grips it so you can’t move anywhere. He leans down and kisses you, and it’s like the dam breaks. The kisses grow more urgent, and there’s not enough skin for either of you to touch. He cups your thighs and lifts you into his arms, and you wrap your limbs around him.

“Fucking finally.” Neither of you breaks apart to address Dean. “Take this shit to your room.”

Sam doesn’t hesitate to carry you to his room, where he plans on ravishing you all night long.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[formulafanfics13]

lewis and max hook up after AD21. I said it. thank you in advance muah

okay so please remember this is not my personal opinion of who deserved the win. i will not be sharing my opinions on this, and 'there will be a mention of max 'stealing' the championship for the plot.

Driver x driver - you won. so take it - LH44 & MV1 🔥

Masterlist

Summary: After winning the championship in Abu Dhabi, Max Verstappen shows up at Lewis Hamilton’s hotel room in the middle of the night. Tension explodes into a furious, desperate hatefuck that turns into something far more raw and confessional. Both men break, fuck, and confess things they can’t say out loud in the daylight. By morning, Max is gone — but neither of them will ever forget it.

Warnings: explicit sex, hate sex, enemies-to-lovers energy, emotional repression, power struggle, obsession, degradation, praise kink, rough sex, wall sex, oral sex, unprotected anal sex, light manhandling, emotionally charged intimacy, post-race trauma, toxic chemistry, unresolved tension, implied infidelity (emotional), angst, ambiguous aftermath.

He shows up at the door just past 3am. No cameras. No entourage. Just Max, in a hoodie too big and socks half-drenched from the rain outside. Lewis doesn’t even ask how he found the room. Doesn’t care. Not tonight.

He just stands there, shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, jaw tight. Looks at Max like he’s a ghost. “You won,” Lewis says. Flat. Cold. Like he’s daring him to fucking say anything else.

Max doesn’t.

He just walks past him. Into the suite. Dripping silence like blood.

Lewis shuts the door behind him. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. “Why are you here?”

Max doesn’t answer right away. Just walks toward the window and stares out at the city, the neon halo of Abu Dhabi still humming in the distance.

Then, quietly- “I don’t know.”

Bullshit.

Lewis laughs. Bitter. Cruel. “So what, you came here to rub it in?”

Max turns around. “No.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know,” Max says again, voice harder this time. “I just-couldn’t sleep.”

Lewis scoffs. “Poor baby. Can’t sleep after stealing a world championship?”

That gets a reaction. Max’s jaw twitches. His fists clench at his sides. But he doesn’t bite. Instead, he walks toward Lewis slowly. Steps measured. Eyes sharp. And Lewis watches him.

Because they’ve never been this close without a camera in the way. Without a mic. Without a fucking script. And now they’re standing face to face, two inches apart, and Lewis can smell the rain on Max’s clothes. Can feel the weight of everything unspoken between them. The betrayal. The obsession. The need.

“You think I wanted it like that?” Max asks, voice low.

“I don’t give a fuck what you wanted.”

Max steps closer. Barely a breath between them. “Liar.”

Lewis doesn’t flinch.

“Admit it,” Max says. “You want to hate me. You need to.”

Lewis laughs again, a soft, broken sound. “I don’t need to hate you.”

Max’s voice drops. “Then why are you still letting me in?”

Lewis doesn’t have an answer for that. So he kisses him.

It’s not soft. It’s not kind. It’s teeth and anger and two years of tension all crashing into one brutal, breathless collision. Max kisses back like he’s drowning. Like this is the only thing keeping him alive.

Lewis grabs him by the hoodie and slams him into the wall, mouth never leaving his. Max moans, low and wrecked, grabbing at Lewis’s waist like he doesn’t know what the fuck else to do.

“You won,” Lewis snarls against his lips. “So take it.”

Max freezes. “What?”

Lewis pushes him harder into the wall, hand on his chest, chest heaving. “Take what you came for. You want the whole fucking thing, don’t you? The title. The glory. Me. You’ve always wanted it all.”

Max swallows. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re obsessed.”

Max fists his hand in Lewis’s hair and drags his head back.

They lock eyes.

“You think I came here to fuck you?” Max growls.

“I think you came here because you can’t stop thinking about me.”

Silence. And then Max kisses him again. Harder. Dirtier. Desperate.

They crash backward toward the bed, tearing clothes off like they’re trying to erase the last two years from their skin. Lewis rips Max’s hoodie off. Max yanks Lewis’s sweatpants down and palms his cock like he owns it. It’s insane. It’s pathetic. It’s perfect.

“Get on the bed,” Lewis commands.

Max smirks. “Make me.”

Lewis shoves him.

Max lands on his back, grinning like the arrogant little fuck he’s always been. Lewis climbs on top of him, straddling his waist, hands pinning him down.

“You like this?” Lewis hisses. “Being under me?”

“You have no idea.”

Lewis grinds down. Max gasps. “Fuck, Lewis-”

“Say it again.”

“Lewis.”

“No. Say it like you mean it.”

Max lifts his hips, grinding against him. “Lewis.”

“Good boy.”

The praise hits harder than a slap. Max shivers.

Lewis leans down, mouth at his ear. “I should hate you.”

“You do.”

“Not enough to stop this.”

“No.”

Lewis pulls back. Stares down at him.

“Do you even feel guilty?”

Max swallows. “Every fucking day.”

Lewis kisses him again. Slower this time. Like maybe he believes it. Maybe.

He slides down, mouths over Max’s chest, his stomach, then takes him into his mouth without warning. Max’s hands fly to his hair, head tipping back, mouth open.

“Jesus-”

Lewis works him over like it’s a punishment. Like he wants him ruined. Like he needs him silent for once in his fucking life. Max whimpers, grips the sheets, begs.

When he’s close, Lewis pulls off and pushes into him in one smooth, devastating thrust.

Max screams. “Fuck-Lewis-”

Lewis bites down on his shoulder, fucking him slow, deep, punishing.

“You feel that?” he pants. “That’s mine.”

Max chokes on a moan. “All yours.”

Lewis grins, teeth sharp. “Say it louder.”

“I’m yours.”

“Louder.”

“I’m fucking yours, okay?”

Lewis fucks him harder. Max wraps his legs around his waist, takes every inch, every thrust, every broken breath like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. They come together. Max first, wrecked and gasping, Lewis right after, moaning into his neck like he hates himself for it. Then silence.

Just the sound of their breathing. The weight of everything unsaid.

Lewis pulls out, rolls off, lies beside him. Max stares at the ceiling. “You hate me?”

Lewis exhales. “No.” Pause. “But I wish I did.”

Max nods. “Yeah.”

They don’t speak again. In the morning, Max is gone. And Lewis never talks about it. But he never forgets.

[fairestbeard]

Carmy has always been jealous of Syd and Richie's relationship

The terrific trio: A great deal of this show really is centered around the relationship between these three people

We all saw how heartbroken Carmy looked at Syd saying she needed Richie. That was one of his biggest fears coming to pass. He's always been jealous of Syd and Richie's relationship and it started right from the moment the three of them met in that walk in freezer.

Syd and Richie's meeting is my favorite meeting between two characters of all time. It was so dramatic and funny and interesting and I can't get enough of that scene. It was Richie being his charismatic but obnoxious self and Syd just matching fire for fire with the quickness, which is the first thing that made me fall instantly in love with her. Carmy all the while is in the middle of that whole run-in acting very protective of Syd in the moment.

We all assume with good reason that he cut between them because Richie said something inappropriate, calling Syd sweetheart. But his reaction started the moment Richie reached out to Sydney, introducing himself.

Maybe he was anticipating the inappropriateness? Or maybe it was something else?

Exhibit 2: His reaction in Ceres after Richie and Syd had a traumatic experience together and had to check in with each other, as they should.

He turns away and looks very sulky after he sees that exchange between them.

Exhibit 3: The way he leaves the kitchen just to find out what they are talking about? Come on, Carmen, it's like 10 minutes to service lol.

Also here's another example of him just being done with whatever was going on with them in "The Beef" in S2. He's given up at this point 😂. He can't stop them from being them. It is what it is.

Season 2 explored the swing and miss attempt at a potential closer relationship between Sydney and Carmy which ultimately culminates in the fridge incident. By the time Carmy comes out of that fridge, the relationship between Richie and Syd is completely transformed

This scene marks the turning point of the Syd/Richie relationship, mirroring the climax of their fallout in S1

They are friends now.

Carmy crashing out in the margins about Syd and Richie's friendship (1. F_ck Richie, 2. Richie's friend?)

Their friendship has been a beautiful thing to watch blossom and Carmy secretly hates it. You can see it in the way he passive aggressively tells Sydney to handle Richie when they're fighting and Syd steps in, even in S1.

But why?

He could tell they were going to something from the moment they met, I think. But seeing them get closer reminds him yet again of his inadequacies. Richie and Syd have been able to do the one thing he and Syd have been unable to do:

Run into each other!

Whatever turn their relationship has taken, it's been honest everytime. They weren't afraid to explore whatever it is that was happening between them. It didn't matter if it was ugly, if it was messy, if it was painful. It didn't matter if it ended with someone getting stabbed in the ass. They were ready to face each other as they were, with all their messiness. And somewhere in there, they were able to really see each other.

Syd was able to recognize his pain through all his bitchiness in Hands and it's significant that he was the first person to let her in about what happened with Mikey and she was able to see that he was suffering from the loss. He also didn't hesitate to act out when he felt insecure about her abilities and she was not afraid to call him out for the loser that he was being.

They were willing and able to throw that mess at each other and get it out of the way so that they could actually bond. And it's mostly because of how much of an open book Richie is and Syd's ability to match his intensity.

That's something that Carmy is unable to do.

Like he admitted in Goodbye, he resented Richie for having the relationship he couldn't have with Mikey. Not because he wanted Mikey all to himself but because he recognized he didn't know Mikey the way Richie did and that's, at least partially, because of how closed off he is. We even see Mike complain of having to "drag things out of" Carmy. That's the same reason he "hates" Pete. He wants to be more intimate with the people that he loves but never manages to do so and has to watch other people do the things he's bad at and get to know his own people more than he can.

He hated that Richie was inside his family in a way that he couldn't be and now Richie is inside his would be best friend/wife/lover/muse the way he hasn't been able to manage.

So when he looks at Sydney with so much hurt at the season finale, it's him realizing that it is history repeating itself. She's grown to not need him. But she's grown to need Richie. They've become self actualized in that relationship and he has not, so they're out of the loop and he's not. Or maybe he's the one out of the loop idk. But he's not where they are.

[fangirl-petals]

Hi, this is my first time trying♡

In the middle of your late-night tea session with Zayne, you blurt out

"You know I hate you, right?"

"Why may that be?" He said, his voice sounding stiff yet his eyes kept moving, searching for clues on your face.

"You really don't know why?"

"I have no clue, enlighten me please"

"Well, you are perfect. Zayne you are so perfect! I can never keep up. I can never be enough. I can never be you or near you. You are so clean, so organised, so studious, so good with patients' kids, so good at managing your time. You're famous. People look up to you Zayne. People aspire to be like you. You are everyone's dream relative, partner, friend and I'm a nobody. People don't remember me. Some people hate me. I have no big achievements of my own. I even suck at taking care of myself let alone other people. I hate taking baths, it's so hard, so many steps. Imagine struggling with such a simple thing? Of course, you can't even imagine that. You have it all. I really envy you Zayne."

He stayed silent for a minute. Inhaling your thoughts and feelings. Trying to understand perhaps while looking at you like you have gone insane.

"Just forget it. It's getting late, I'm gonna sleep"

You stand up from the chair to leave, you turn your back to him and a sad smile creeps on your face. He grabs your hand as you take a step forward.

"I envy you a lot too"

You look back at him in disbelief, doubting almost laughing at his sentences but he looks serious, too serious for it to be a joke.

"I dream of your life. A close circle with real loved ones. No unnecessary lectures or workload. No pressure to save lives, no pressure to accomplish. Living your life on your own, on your own terms and on your own time. Living your life for you, not for your family, not for your legacy not for others. You have time to enjoy life. To go on a trip or stay at home. Don't you see how much that is a privilege? And I'm not saying you didn't accomplish anything you did and you know you did. Just cuz you think of them as not up to standards or not good enough that's another thing but they are still accomplishments, Stuff you should be proud of. I'm not perfect I have my faults. Yes, I can brush my teeth and shower but I'm lifeless. I'm indifferent most of the time. I'm an impostor this isn't my life.."

Your eyes widen with shock at each sentence. Filled with a mix of emotions. You lay your hand on his head gently stroking it. Words betrayed both of you.

He hugs your waist and you stay like this both unable to move from the other person's hurt.

[vad-hander]

J

pairing: NCT Jaehyun x reader

genre: strangers to lovers!au/fuck buddies!au, angst, smut, a little bit of fluff, diplomat!Jaehyun

warnings: y/d diary entries integrated into story, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), breast job, ball play, mentions of threesome, mentions of discomfort of past one-night stand experiences (nothing disturbing), multiple orgasms, tension, mature language, slight dom dynamics from both y/n and Jaehyun, minor spanking, longing

words: 8k

this was inspired by annie ernaux's getting lost. hope you enjoy!

June 4th

I’ve been invited to one of those posh parties with high rank politicians out of the mere reason of being related to one of them. Another boring night. Can’t say no since Uncle G will probably lose his mind at my lack of will to socialise. He’s been pretty stiff lately. Guess it’s the anniversary that’s making him worried. 

June 6th 

It went just like I predicted? A bunch of middle aged men and their not so middle aged wives, kissing each other’s asses and showing off their wealth and lack of classiness. Who cares.  A lot of foreign officials, talking in languages I’ve never heard before? Not like I heard many.  Seemed like they were asians. A definite change in comparison to the European guests we’ve always welcomed. Guess the political course is broadened. The foreign affairs men have to socialise with all these people, I guess.  Not like I care much.  Uncle G made me sign up for a screening of some kind of movie arranged by one of the embassies. Now Friday night’s also ruined. Hope they’ll at least have subtitles. 

June 8th

The movie was… bearable?  Who am I lying to I barely watched the screen. Was talking to M that I !thankfully! spotted in the crowd of those random people. Wondered how the hell she even got here, but good thing she did. Had a good reason to not stick to my uncle’s side through the whole night.  M introduced me to one of the embassy’s representatives—more like threw me at him, saying he seemed to speak English vaguely, and she had to leave. She couldn’t have been any more wrong. I barely understood what he was trying to say. Barely made it out of his metaphorical claws. Awkward encounter. Came back home hating this life once again. 

June 11th 

It’s my birthday. Both M and P promised to get me laid tonight at the private party they arranged for me at SOAP. Hope they’re keeping their promise. I’ve been feeling lonely lately.

June 12th 

Getting laid did not help with the feeling lonely thing. Expected, but I guess proving in action that it’s not something that’ll help is a great lesson.  Had to run away at the suggestion of that man calling a friend in. At least head he was giving felt good. As for the rest… well.  I feel like he might’ve been one of the foreign affairs men, had a little accent. Or I’m just hallucinating because this diplomacy shit is all I’m surrounded by. But he was around my age so I doubt he actually worked for any embassy? Might’ve been someone’s son. Maybe he was just a foreigner. Anyway. I have no good reason thinking of a jerk like him.  Uncle G got me a new Mercedes as a gift. Now I have three cars and no wish to drive. What a funny thing he did there. 

June 15th 

That ugly feeling inside of me is blocking me from writing. Since that guy’s desperate wish to stuff my mouth with his cock I felt nauseous. His smell follows me around even through expensive perfume. I might’ve pushed myself somewhere I didn’t want to be. It might’ve brought trauma. I can’t talk about it with people so I’m writing this here.  One night stands are not my thing and I worked it out nearing 30.  Guess it’s better later than never.  Been thinking of willingly accompanying my uncle to one of those official events tomorrow. Can’t stand sitting in my room and rotting away with no productivity. Might as well down a couple of flutes of champagne and hang on his arm for the evening. 

June 18th

I completely forgot to write this down! I’m constantly jumping over things and can’t put myself to properly write into this diary.  Have to force myself to be consistent.  Did just like I wrote last - went to the dinner with uncle G. Hung on his arm for the evening, he was beyond happy to show his niece to everyone. People constantly got confused with the way he was referring to me as his daughter but the whispers probably explained them the reason behind that.  I might’ve been too tipsy, but it felt like one of the guests watched me. As in fully followed me with his stare and feet through the evening. I barely spared him a glance fearing he’ll take it as a call to action and can’t comment on what he looked like.  Only noticed he was pretty young.  This only made me have weird connections in my head. Thinking how that guy I slept with on my birthday had an accent. How I assumed he could be someone from this society.  How the second male he wanted to invite could’ve been that guy that stared. And he stared because he knew my secret. I just tucked into uncle G even tighter, not giving him room to approach me in any way. Hope that guy never shows up again.  The last two days I was just carrying on with life, I guess. Still no writing. Just gym. I tried reformer pilates and hated that shit with my guts. Decided to stick with yoga. After gym hung out with M and she blabbered my ears off how she’s probably going to get proposed to before the end of July. I’m so happy for her.  I have to make a list of wedding gift options. 

June 19th 

Being consistent might not be my thing. Have absolutely nothing to write here today. 

June 20th

Today also? Giving up on consistency. Will only do it when I feel like it.  Just wish I could go back to actual writing because my publisher is pushing me for new pages I don’t have. Where would I get them when all I do is watch Desperate Housewives. Maybe I should’ve agreed to marrying one of the diplomats uncle G suggested earlier. Does it matter if the man’s not checking off a single thing on my list? He has wealth. I could be like Gabrielle. Get a bunch of pretty things and get myself a lover. Who’d do the right thing for me. Even if he doesn’t have the money. Just thinking. 

June 24th

I might’ve gone out of my mind.  Uncle G suggested to go on a trip with him and a bunch of politicians. I said yes. I will really regret that later. I have a strong feeling.  We’re leaving July 1st. A week and a half of excursions, events and dinners. I didn’t even hear where we’re going, but at least it’s falling into the category of fun summer holiday traveling. Uncle G will pick me up at 8 am on the 1st. Packing my stuff.

June 27th

Have decided to not push myself with writing during the trip. Will soak in those new experiences and then go back in full force. Tried sitting down and thinking and somehow rolled down to ridiculousness.  Can’t work out why I am so stuck up on that threesome suggestion. Maybe running away was the wrong decision? Good god, I’m just crazy. That I even considered putting it into my work.  Stupid. Just a reminder for future me (in case it changes) I don’t write novels or romance. I’m trying to continue with my nature, wildlife, ecology roots and I think that’s what really makes it worse for me. I haven’t been outside much even. What the hell would I write about.  It’s 4am and I’ve been tossing and turning.  I need to pack this diary to not forget it at home. 

July 2nd

It’s 8am. It’s terribly fucking hot. I’m exhausted and it’s just our second day here. I think I get headaches from both humidity and heat.  I was gifted a hand fan yesterday by one of the lovely ladies at the dinner. It’s the only thing that’ll keep me from death today during the excursions I guess.  - I’m back in the room, thank god for the person that invented split systems.  The city was so beautiful to see if I put away sweating like a pig. All those men in our group were wearing suits (!) in the heat, including uncle G that refused to take off even just his jacket.  I was in the summer dress and felt sweat drops fall from my neck down to my chest. Maybe I’m just not used to heat? Thankfully dinner’s at the hotel with no need to come outside.  Apparently it’s more fun to take the train to our next destination, so we’re taking a 6 hour train tomorrow to another city. I’m excited for the train ride. I haven’t rode a long distance train since… never. Yeah, never experienced that. It’s going to be fun, hopefully. 

July 3rd

I need to go through this in full description, even though I promised myself no actual writing. I was standing in my cart’s vestibule, taking pics of the nature outside. I felt a figure behind me. Had to immediately turn around in panic.  It was a train in a foreign country. And I had barely any clothes on if a man tried to pull a thing. I honestly panicked.  I panicked even more when I worked out his features. It was the man who’s stare I felt on me that evening. He was indeed young and indeed attractive. But that was besides the point. I felt like he came in here to punish me for what I did to his alleged friend (though I still have no prove to this moment they’re friends). I wanted to run off. He was kind of cornering me with no intention. The space was just small. So I couldn’t.  I looked him in the eyes and couldn’t swallow. He stared right back.  “Aren’t you under 30?” His voice had a subtle depth to it. I have never expected him to sound like that. Not that I had any expectations at all. Also the calmness and smoothness of that sound? I had very high doubts on his intentions to either harass me or rape me after that question. Also the question? I was confused and hoped the little furrow of my brow clued him to that. “Am I right?” He spoke louder to me than before, making me wonder if he thought I had trouble hearing him. Not had trouble with the question.   “What a weird way to approach a woman.” I gave him a smirk and looked away. I wasn’t trying to flirt and I have no idea where that came from. “So what if I am?” His next line is what really threw me off.  “I was just wondering why such a beautiful, young woman would marry a man in his 60’s. Can’t believe you’re in for the man himself.” I dropped my phone. I wish I was exaggerating like I do when I’m writing. But I dropped my phone on that nasty floor and folded to grab it and that pretentious man did the same thing and our heads !collided!. He quite literally shook my brains and it clicked in my head.  The stares? He thought I was a gold digger. Thought I was the wife. Married an old man to ensure my wealth.  I giggled into my palm and caught his confused stare.  “And you walk around here caring about other people’s wives’ business why, exactly? Is it because you don’t have one of your own?” I was wondering what was in this for him. Honestly. Like even if my uncle is not my uncle why the fuck he cares? “Was trying to make sure you’re not suffering in this marriage because of money. You pulled a few sad faces over the course of my presence at the events.” I was almost touched at his observance. Also couldn’t hold back the thought that he had an accent. It only came out on certain words, but it was there and I had to stick my curiosity up my ass for the meanwhile.  If only I didn’t hate people that put their noses in someone else’s business. He’s a prick and I decided to not entertain him any further. I just walked off. Well, almost.  “So what if I don’t like public events? At least he buys be diamonds and hits it good. Get your nose in your own business.” I might’ve bursted and might’ve pushed him to the side, but at least I hope it’ll keep the jerk off me. 

July 4th

Obviously, not only I raged like a bitch through the left hours of the train ride, also on any other chance I was on my own. To this day.  Need to know his name so uncle G would make sure that guy is sent back where he came from.  - I might’ve overdid it with pity. Might’ve smiled too widely at people when I felt that guy look, sat too close to my uncle and held onto his forearm constantly.  On the other side, the sea side was beautiful. We were promised beach day on Saturday. Wonder how this one will go. Genuinely curious to see all these stuck-up men taking swimming shorts out of their suitcases or will they go into the sea in suits?

July 6th 

I had a feeling beach day was a stretch. It’s just a cocktail party and everyone is wearing dresses and suits.  I have one on too. I sneaked a bikini under but uncle G will clearly not let me go in the water. Will see how this one ends.  - I ended up swimming.  And I might be drowning. In something much worse than water.

“Hey.” That smoothness soaked you in completely. It was familiar at this point, you heard his voice somewhere around you for six consecutive days, but you still shivered right this moment. Maybe because it was too dark, maybe because sea breeze hit you with the softest licks of air. You still tried to hold your ground. 

“Oh, fuck off.” You let out an exasperated sigh and turned around. “Go away.”

“Just,” he hesitated, you felt your patience wear thin. What was he forming in that mouth of his? Another assumption you fucked your uncle? You made a move to walk out and he finally found words. “I was introduced to your uncle. I’m sorry for making an assumption.” Your demeanour fell in an instance. “It was indeed a weird way to approach a woman.”

“I see.” You shrugged, but fell back against the railing. Curious, what else he had to say. 

“Will you accept my apology?” He asked after a long moment of silence. 

“Why?” 

“I might’ve looked too closely at you. You have on a bikini under your beautiful dress. And I’m the only other person that read the invitation in a literal way. I have my swimming trunks on.” Your mouth formed and ‘o’. Both at the fact he watched you closely and the fact he seemingly wanted to swim with you. “So, if my apology is accepted and that awkward conversation is safe from your uncle?” He paused expecting an answer, and you gave him a subtle nod. “My name is Jeong Jaehyun, I’m from over here. I can guarantee it’s the best season to take late night swims and if you don’t mind, I want our first activity as acquaintances to be swimming in the sea right behind you?”

“Do you not need to go back to the event?” Your pointing finger pointed behind the man. To the restaurant full of people. 

“I don’t, and we won’t take long in case you need to. Just a dip up to the shoulders. We need to keep your hair and make up intact.” You blinked at the man in front of you. “Will you?” He leaned a little in and you gave him that barely noticeable nod again. He did the unthinkable in your book and grabbed your wrist. Forcing you to the stairs that led to the sand. You hopped right behind him, pulling your hand back to stop and take your shoes off. As soon as your feet hit the sand, your fingers reached for the dress strap and pulled it down your shoulder. Shimmying the dress all the way down and off your body. You folded the dress on your arm and turned around. Watching him walk towards you with his jacket folded on his arm. He took it slow and you really wished you could pull these clothes off his body. To hurry and get in the water. Just to get back to the event quicker. Nothing beyond that. 

He paused as he got closer to you, taking in your appearance and quickly disposing himself of the left clothes also. 

You were sure Jaehyun had no shame. But to not be a hypocrite, you were sure you had no shame either. Letting people know you swam together by walking with wet stains sounded worse, though, for sure. 

“Why are your hair wet at the nape?” Your uncle looked over at you, as soon as you approached the champagne stall.

“Patted myself with wet towel in the bathroom. It’s too hot to handle here.” You sighed and touched the curled up hair. Half your head was wet you were sure. “Can we leave already? I need a shower, can’t be walking around sweaty.”

“Darling, go alone. I need to have a word with our ambassador.” 

“Okay.” You gave a curt nod and after feeling his mouth on your temple took off. 

July 8th

I couldn’t write yesterday, was dead tired from sightseeing. Also was too overwhelmed with what happened. But I need to write all of this down. Need to remember how this unfolded and how I felt in the moment.  J invited me for a swim at that boring beach party where nobody cared for the actual beach. No one even tried to touch the sand with their pinky. Let alone the sea. Except for us. J and I, he had swimming trunks on and saw my bikini and thought of inviting me for a swim. That jerk that assumed I was a gold digger has a pretty name. And much prettier smile. He’s in general seems to be okay. Not to exaggerate things further.  He brushed his palm against mine yesterday at the theatre, and despite me first taking this as an accident, I have a feeling his stare afterwards was intending to let me know it wasn’t. He also sat right next to me through the whole thing and our arms shared an armrest. Obviously with no sign of contact or acknowledgment of each other beyond that.  My uncle was on the other side of me.  Why did I even jump to yesterday.  July 6th. Swimming.  Nothing unusual happened in the swimming process, we literally just swam. He kept his distance. Even though I could tell his eyes traveled down to my chest when he saw me without the dress, he kept his distance in the water.  I tried hard to not ruin my hair and make up. The waves had a different plan, but it was mostly good. And warm. The water was the warmest I ever felt. J said it’s the best season to swim here. He knows, because he’s from here. Seems like he was right.  We got out of the water and realised that we can’t put our clothes back on. They’ll be soaked within the minute. 

The same moment I remembered M telling me to be more straightforward with what I want. She wanted me to bring a man to her wedding and after that break up with E I had zero candidates for that position. Except for maybe this guy now. I took the bikini top off me and slid the dress on, doing the same thing with the bottoms. Jaehyun looked away as soon as he saw more than what he already have of my chest and looked back only when he could see the dress drape down my body. At least I made sure he watched me take the bottoms down my legs.  He suggested I go back first. But I turned around and saw him take the swimming shorts off. We walked around that fancy dinner thing with a bunch of officials with no underwear on. I don’t know if it’s as exciting as I felt in the moment.  I told my uncle I’ll be heading back to my room early. Tried to find J on my way out and couldn’t. I really hoped I’d get to him and hopefully get him to leave with me.  Anyway, I spent yesterday always within an arm’s length from J, but never close enough to actually be satisfied. Not a word was shared between us. He always talked with his colleagues, in a different language. I clearly couldn’t understand.  Today is our last day here. We took the train to the city with an airport. We’re having a free day today and a goodbye dinner later tonight at a fancy restaurant with a bunch of government officials. He’s clearly going to be within the reach tonight also. I wish he wanted to talk to me.  I heard last night at the lobby he’s having a busy day today.  I found no reason to walk out the room and do anything.  Actually broke my own promise and wrote a little. Not sure if it’s something I’ll be able to work into the story I’m writing, but at least those are the pages that can be handed in to the publisher.  - It’s getting late. I’ve been in bed scrolling, or writing and even tried to touch myself thinking of him, but came to conclusion I’m not in the mood.  I’m going to wear a matching lacy set of underwear I packed for no reason at all. I had no intention of sleeping with anybody, somehow now I do have the very intention. If J is not talking to me tonight, I’ll stop with the thoughts. I’m just desperate at this point and ready to jump any dick. Sound pathetic. Still, any wouldn’t do, no. His - would very much do. 

July 9th 

We fucked.  I’m on the plane back home holding on to a promise he’ll call me once he’s in the country. I still can feel his mouth on my chest and the feeling is not making this flight any easier.  My boobs aren’t even that big, but I let him jerk himself off between them. I don’t know what possessed me, but I’m glad it did. He clearly enjoyed sleeping with me. And I… might’ve loved it. 

Jaehyun’s fingers stroked your forearm, not passionate strokes, just his finger teasing the skin between your elbow and your wrist. The touch so soft and tender, it made your back shiver in this crowded room. He kept it hidden, making it look like he was holding on to the table behind you, making those soothing little strokes as he spoke to your uncle. Something about them arranging more cultural events when they’re both back to their workplace. 

You wondered how the hell did he act so nonchalantly while touching you, when you were barely keeping your composure. Barely had any strength left in you to not fall into his side. 

Jaehyun touched you once more in the elevator, a brush of his fingers against your ass, that you intentionally kept inappropriately close to his crotch. Thank god the crowd in the elevator left that unnoticed. People descended on floor five, ten and the next stop was your one. The elevator got seemingly empty and you had no good reason to keep yourself tucked to Jaehyun. You stepped away ready to wish him a good night on your floor, when his palm brushed your shoulder blade. 

“Hey, is it okay if I ask you to bring something back home with you? I’m not able to go for a few more days, if you could hand it over to Mr. Park on the plane.” 

“Yes? Sure.” You gave him a nod, full on thrilled to be of use. Though you had no idea which one of those gentleman was Mr. Park, you were happy to not be needing to leave this elevator alone. Jaehyun trailed with his eyes the lady that was third wheeling your ride and sighed as the door closed behind her. 

You were just thinking about that piece of information he’d given you. He’s not coming back home with you.

You wondered why they had to keep him on the other side of the world from you. Even for a couple of days. 

Jaehyun gestured for you to walk out the elevator. You did so, walking in front of him, expecting him to give you directions when to stop. He did. “Room 1324.” Your eyes caught the sign just in time and you turned left, strolling down the corridor to his room. You stopped next to the door, turning around and leaning into the wall. 

“I’ll wait here.” You dusted off your dress to not see his reaction. You were still cautious enough to not act like you had any intentions with him at all. He had a job in politics, you weren’t sure what his job exactly was, but your uncle had made it clear over the years that he’s not going to tolerate you getting with a man that first of all not matches his political views. You weren’t sure they had any conflict, though you needed to ask that before you get anywhere closer to the man. You had to put your family first. 

“Come on in.” He retorted as he got the card out and tapped it on the card reader. “I have to look for it, might take a while. You can take a sit on the couch.” Jaehyun walked in, opening the door wide enough for it to not close back immediately. Giving you 10 seconds to act like you hesitated. 

You walked in, sitting on the couch like he told you to. The piece of furniture was placed in the exact same way as in your room. You practically lived in the same room, just 4 floors apart. You looked around to spare time. 

Not a single one of his personal belongings were on display, he turned away from you and ran his fingers through the table, pulling the drawer out. He fumbled there a little, drawing your attention to his back. You wondered what was the thing he wanted you to hand over and why would he not just do it himself. You all were at the same hotel. 

“Ugh, here it is.” He finally turned around. A book in his hands. You tried to read the title on the cover, but you had no clue how to read those sticks and circles. 

“A book?” You questioned, standing up. 

“Yeah. It’s an ugh-.” He stammered at first, taking a look in your eyes and saying something in his language. You guessed he just couldn’t explain what this book meant in English. You nodded like you understood. You’ll check what this book is about once you’re in your room through translator. 

“Yes, sure.” You nodded, reaching out a hand to grab the book from him. Jaehyun took a few quick steps towards you and put the book you reached for out of the way. He actually dropped it onto the couch you previously sat on. Mouth having no trouble finding yours as you looked up at him confused. He wrapped an arm over your waist, flushing you against his body. The other palm taking your face in it as you leaned in for the kiss. You kissed him back, grabbed his forearms, giving them a few strokes in the process of fighting for leadership in the kiss. 

Your head spun as Jaehyun fell onto the couch and pulled you down with him. A loud ‘ouch’ left his mouth as he landed on the hard cover of the book, taking it from under him and throwing it on the floor. You wanted to ask why he’d do that to this priced possession. You had no chance to as Jaehyun’s tongue asked first for access to your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his arms stroking your sides as his mouth licked into yours with raw passion. You could’ve not even imagined you inspired in him this amount of want. 

You moaned into his mouth when he forced you from his side on top of him, straddling his thighs. You felt his semi-hard cock press into you. You loved the feeling. 

Jaehyun forced your arms off his neck, unwrapping each one with care and peppered kisses all over them. His eyes ran over your figure saddling him, palms raising to give your boobs a squeeze through clothing. “How do I take this off?” His fingers pulled on the material of your top that tightly wrapped your body. 

“The zipper is on the back.” You let him know, feeling his arms run up your back in blind search for a zipper. His face tucked between your breasts, trying to kiss and bite the skin even through the fabric. Jaehyun found the zipper and pulled it all the way down, moving back so you’d take that thing off. You did as he pleased, getting a boost of everything you felt for him as he grinned at the lacy see-through material barely covering your chest. 

He pulled the material with his teeth down on one side, pressing his mouth into you, licking and sucking on your sensitive bud. As he was done doing the symmetrical things for the other side, he trailed kisses down your stomach, going back up to suck on your collarbone. 

“You are so fucking hot.” He whispered, hands digging into the skirt you were wearing. “Don’t say I’ll get matching panties there.” He whispered into your ear, moving back to see your reaction. You gestured for him to lift up the skirt. His eyes rolled back half closed for a moment. “You wanted me to fuck you tonight no matter what?”

“Why would you assume it’s for you when there are a bunch of men in their 60s that are clearly way more my style than you are. According to you, of course.”

“I thought I said I’m sorry.” 

“You didn’t admit you asked because you wanted to be the one fucking me.”

“I was, clearly. And I am going to be doing that so fucking soon.” Jaehyun’s finger trailed the wet patch over the underwear and you pressed yourself more into the digit, drawing a smile out of his pretty mouth. 

You leaned your mouth to his neck, kissing it down to his collar. Jaehyun’s fingers toyed with the material of your panties, moving to grope at your inner thighs rhythmically while you undid his tie and ran your fingers down, undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. “Do you mind getting your clothes wrinkled?”

“I couldn’t fucking care less.” He chuckled, amused, watching you tuck the shirt off his arms and leaving it behind his back. Your palms ran over the breadth of his chest, running down his sickeningly toned stomach, trailing down the happy trail to grope on his hard on. 

“Wait. I was meaning to ask you, I need to make sure there’s no political feud between you and my uncle?” You pulled back your arms to not cloud his mind. The question was quite important. You couldn’t upset the man that took so much time to care for you. 

“Why?” Jaehyun furrowed his brows, expectedly. “I won’t tell him about this.”

“If there’s any issue between you two and he finds out we had sex, he could destroy your career. Take this seriously.” You’ve experienced that twice before. You liked Jaehyun enough to not put him throw it without warning like you did before. You didn’t want him to end like those guys. 

“Sweetheart your uncle is not my employer, he’s not even remotely close to being one. Doubt he’ll get to my employer to punish me for having consensual sex with his niece. What sort of crime is that?” He chuckled pressing his open mouth into your stomach and looking up. He looked so fucking hot. 

“And who’s your boss?” You teased, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Technically, my president. Realistically someone at the embassy. But it doesn’t matter. Your uncle has power there, not here. Here he’s just a diplomat on a vacation trip with his baby niece. And his baby niece has the best pussy in both our countries I’m convinced.” Jaehyun bent his neck, trying to press his mouth into your underwear. 

“Never put my uncle and dirty talk in one sentence again.” Your fingers pushed his mouth off you. 

“It was two sentences.” He smirked, mouth still trying to latch onto you. 

“In the same train of thought.” You pressed. 

“Okay.” He gave in and you let him lean into you. 

“And by the way, you haven’t even tried it yet, how’d you even be convinced.” 

“Gut feeling.” He smirked, arms snaking between your thighs so he’d force you up on your knees and finally be able to press his mouth against your clothed heat. Making your underwear a mess of his saliva and your arousal. 

You couldn’t let him take you in his mouth just yet. Not when he’s still wearing his belt. 

You had to put in great effort to stop pressing yourself into him and encourage him to let you sit back down on his lap. The rest was easy. 

Jaehyun fell back into the couch’s backrest, letting you do all you wanted to his body. 

And you wanted to do a lot. 

First mouth to mouth, feeling up all of his chest, that you suddenly couldn’t get enough of under your fingers. Give attention to his nipples starting with kitty licks and ending up with a hickey on his pec. Running your mouth down to his lower stomach, peppering kisses all over, and finally, because you couldn’t hold it back anymore, pressing your mouth into his dress pants. You couldn’t spare a second undoing the zipper. That wild wish to feel his arousal with your mouth took over you. Jaehyun moved his head back as he felt a trace of your teeth over himself. You wanted his attention. 

You smiled and puckered your lips and kissed his crotch again. Jaehyun looked down at you with a bewildered grin. You suddenly remembered what was left of your appearance and how arousing you must’ve looked to him, pressing your mouth against him once again. 

You found his belt blindly, taking it out of all the loops to throw on the floor and not hurt yourself. Next you undid the button on his dress pants and didn’t even bother to pull the clothes down his body. You sneaked a hand inside of his underwear and pulled him out. So warm and heavy to the touch. 

Your mouth covered his tip the next moment. Swirling your tongue around the leaking. Jaehyun let a muffled gasp out as your fingers squeezed the base of him, mouth wrapping over him with the very intention to take more and more into your mouth. Tongue moving softly in waves against the underside, while lips giving pressure to him all around. Jaehyun’s thighs spread wider apart and you scooped yourself closer to him, finding balance with your elbows against his thighs. 

You jerked him in your hand, sticking your tongue out to lick him through the whole length on the underside, letting him dive into your mouth afterwards. Rhythmical motion of your head made Jaehyun’s breath go heavier, mouth slightly opening to try and steady his breathing. You bet he hated making sounds. By the way his fingers ran through his hair, grasping onto his scalp afterwards you were convinced you were right. 

But you were too far gone with you focusing your effort on hearing his moans. You’d bet your life on the fact it sounded like the most beautifully written music. You knew it’d be better than any pleasure he was planning to give you tonight. 

You let him out of your mouth, saliva strings still attaching you to him, while your mouth aimed lower. Tongue reaching for his balls, starting off with soft licks, while your fingers didn’t forget to stroke his length. You let both of his testicles inside your mouth, getting a pleasures sound out of Jaehyun’s mouth. His arms also shuffled, landing one of them at the top of your head, guiding you to not move back and continue. 

You wished he knew better than that. 

“Move your hand off my head, I won’t continue.” You kept yourself collected, purring against him. He moved the hand away immediately, dropping it next to his thigh on the couch. You knew he was a good boy. “If you have additional requests I’ll take them. Just let me know with words.” You had to swallow a smirk and a stupid catch-phrase ‘use your mouth’. Though he was gonna use his mouth if he wanted anything specific out of you. 

Jaehyun had it in him to roll his eyes a little at you, motioning for you to continue right after. You did just that, giving more attention to his testicles. 

“You can do more pressure than that.” He finally found words, immediately receiving what he requested. Your mouth wrapping tighter over him, tongue intensifying the licks. “You can pull, also.” Jaehyun gasped, raising his hand as your gazes met. He clearly wanted to act like he had control over you once again, but quickly dropped the idea, dropping the hand back and gripping on the material. You pulled back, just slightly, actually getting a little scared by the growl Jaehyun let out. You guessed he really will make any sound but a moan. 

Your fingers pumped him rhythmically, running a thumb over his tip once in a while. He was leaking harder than before and you had no idea how things worked for him, but out of your experience, it seemed like he had very little left to take him over the edge. You took him in your mouth, stroking once again. 

You moved back, losing contact with Jaehyun and allowing for his cock to fall on his stomach, getting on your knees more properly and moving even closer to him. Jaehyun looked at you confused, or maybe expectant. You moved closer and pressed him between your breasts and that’s when Jaehyun got the idea and muttered an ‘oh my god’ under his breath. You pressed your breasts into one another, letting saliva drop on your chest from your tongue for lube. You made a few strokes, Jaehyun’s thighs shifting to get closer to you, trying to help you do this right and watching him slip from under your hold. 

“You might need to use your words to let me know you need my help here.” Jaehyun obviously teased, but you weren’t about to be fased by it. It’s his pleasure he was risking. 

“Do it.” 

“Get up.” Jaehyun grabbed your forearm, forcing you on your feet. His fingers reached for your bra, finally setting you free and he stood up next to you, only to toss you over on the couch. “Sit up on your knees.” You did just that, your boobs getting on the same height as his cock. “What did you want to do to me, sweetheart?” He cooed, fingers caressing your stomach, letting his cock poke into your stomach as he forced you up to press his mouth into yours. 

“Come.” He smirked, satisfied. 

“Do you tolerate pain?”

“Maybe, a little.” You weren’t really sure. Jaehyun’s hand slapped your boob, not much force, very much just the sound against your skin. 

“Is that okay?”

“Mmh.”

“Shouldn’t you be using your words?” Jaehyun smirked, caressing your jaw. “Hold your tits for me.” He commanded, moving your fingers more to the centre so he’d not slip again. Pressing himself into you, making a stroke of his hips, and then another one. He definitely had more success with that, pressing more into you and making your back hit the couch and find balance in that. Jaehyun moved his hand over to the base of his cock, adding additional strokes to the stimulation he already received. “Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.” Jaehyun commanded, palm covering yours and putting more pressure against his throbbing cock. You could feel him getting closer to the edge, could see the way his eyes rolled back into his head and hips lost control. Felt the strings of his cum fall onto your chest and hit the tip of your tongue, felt his tip hit your mouth as he let go of you to grip onto the backrest of the couch and his hips slipped closer to your face. Heard that barely there moan as he felt the peak hit him.

Jaehyun gave himself a few strokes to ride out the high and moved back to drop his body next to you. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Or should I not be sorry?” 

“It’s okay.” You whispered. He wasted no time to stroke your tongue with his, kiss your mouth and slide his palm down to your heat. 

“Come here.” He mumbled to himself, grabbing you like a doll and tossing over to the bed that was right behind the couch to get on top of you. His mouth focused on your chest sucking and licking your sensitive buds, while arms stroked your body. Giving attention to your stomach, sides, arms and inner thighs. 

He slipped your underwear down your legs and positioned himself between your legs, filling you all the way up with the first stroke. 

“So, who exactly are you within the embassy ecosystem?” Your finger drew circles over his chest. Hearts still beating too fast after another climax. 

“Can’t really tell you.” Jaehyun caught your palm, flattening it against his stomach. 

“Why? Are you some sort of FBI agent undercover?” You raised your head, smiling. Hiding away your concern. What if he was, indeed, someone like that?

“FBI’s in the US.” Jaehyun’s other hand patted your cheek with a little roll of his eyes. 

“Ah. You understood where I led this, don’t pick at my words.”

“I literally couldn’t tell you even if I was.” You turned around arms pressing into his chest, face above his. You leaned in, pecking his mouth. 

“But why?”

“I would have to report it once I go back. I wouldn’t want to report you.” He stretched out his mouth and wanted you to kiss him. You knew it by the way his finger pressed into your lower back. You leaned in and let his tongue into your mouth. 

“But why is that?” Not for long, because now you were determined to know who he actually was. 

“Can’t report someone I’m having sex with. Will look like I’m not here for the job.” Jaehyun’s arm made sure he was pressing into your thigh. 

“How long are you going to be here for? Like… a year, probably?” If you remembered correctly, some countries did rotations at least once a year. 

“That’s unknown. To anyone. As long as I fulfil diplomatic needs and don’t get under rotation.”

“How much time have you spent serving at the embassy already?” You straddled Jaehyun’s thighs, lining him up with your entrance. 

“About two months.” You sunk down on Jaehyun’s length, making those words a gasp out of his mouth. 

“What have you been doing though?” You rolled your hips into him, Jaehyun switching his grip on you, helping your hips meet his. 

“Are you a spy? Undercover as the Deputy Foreign Minister's niece?” Jaehyun’s fingers caressed your cheek. 

“I’m just trying to understand who you are.” He quickened the pace, your nails digging into his chest. 

“The most important thing for you to know is that I got this job after graduating from diplomatic school and was selected because of my impeccable grades. A few months ago, I received a promotion and was selected and approved as a diplomatic officer. I was able to schedule an official visit by high-level diplomats to my country for the first time in many years during my brief work at the embassy. This should be enough to know who I am.” Jaehyun tried to kiss you, self-satisfied smirk adorning his face. 

“So you’re, like, good with persuading people?”

“I’m good at diplomacy.” A confident, self-assured smirk with an air of cocky arrogance bloomed on his otherwise sweet face. 

That’s exactly how he got you on top of him, you guessed. 

“Were you serious? About not coming back with us tomorrow?”

“Unfortunately.”

“What time is it, by the way?” You looked for your phone, finding it back on the couch, left in your purse. A palm landed on your butt, slapping the exposed skin Jaehyun could see now. “Shit! 3 AM.” You sighed, sitting back down and scrolling through your notifications. “Fuck, fuck.” There were 3 messages and 5 calls from your uncle about 3,5 hours ago. Stupid do not disturb for nighttime silenced them all. You just had to hope there were no search campaign for you. He should’ve assumed you got back to your room safely and got knocked off. 

“What is it?” Jaehyun asked, voice flat. 

“Nothing, I just didn’t pack yet.” You sighed. 

“You should go back, then.”

“It’s okay, I won’t pack until morning. I’m too tired.” You stated matter-of-factly, you hoped he’d let you stay. You didn’t want to leave his side yet even if it meant panic panicking in the morning.  

“You should go back anyway.” You turned around. Jaehyun scratched his brow and looked into his phone. 

“Ugh. Sure.” You couldn’t believe he was throwing you out like that. And you also had no good reason to not agree to that. He had every right to, and probably was not wrong to do it.  

You put back on your clothes, trying to fix your appearance at least a little. The elevator ride still could be embarrassing. Jaehyun put his underwear on, lying back down on bed and staring into his phone. It wasn’t the morning, but the walk of shame vibes were kicking you strong. Were you supposed to say thank you? Bye?

“Wait.” Jaehyun called out, catching up with you as you trailed to the door.

“Yes?”

“Can I see you, when I come back?” Jaehyun’s head tilted a little to the side, like was a puppy.

“Yes?”

“Cool.” He shook his head a little. 

“See you then, I guess?” You shrugged, ready to leave in a much lighter mood than before. 

“Wait. Give me your phone number, so I could reach you.” Jaehyun gave you his phone with notes open. You expected him to ask for your socials handle or something. But whatever, this also works. You typed in your phone number and slid his phone back into his palm. 

“Now for sure, see you.” You smiled. 

July 11th

I forgot to ask him how long exactly were the few more days he referred to that night. It’s been three and I’ve nor heard of him. I expected a message? Maybe he’d reach out on socials, but nothing. Was I stupid?

July 18th 

I think he might’ve lied when he talked about wanting to see me. Asked for my phone number. Probably saw longing in my eyes and felt bad enough to do something about it. Well, at least he made the excitement last for 5 days. It’s been nine and I’m officially writing him down under the one night stand category. 

Your phone rang in the afternoon, landline number and that weirded you out. The only not spam call you’ve gotten from that sort of phone was with terrific news, so you picked up the call before the anxiety swallowed you. It wasn’t that, but still your heart kind of went into cardiac arrest at the softness of the voice on the other side of the line. 

“Can I see you?” Jaehyun said. 

“Like, a date?” You teased your lower lip between your teeth. 

“No, like what we had in the hotel room?” He sounded a little muffled. Probably tried to keep the conversation suitable enough for work. 

“See me for sex?” You needed to clarify. Your hand let go of the spoon you held on to. 

“Yes.” The word came out of him firmly this time. 

“I don’t really know-.”

hope you enjoyed, feedback is highly appreciated <3

[conron]

android! wolf x reader

hello all don’t be surprised. i literally just got bored and scrawled this drabble on the first doc i saw. no shared burns because i hate EVERYONE (joke)

tags: android wolf!, female reader, first meetings, this is so stuoid, 1.4k words wasted on this, oc is your friend, you’re like a college student about, so sorry yall, not getting another chapter unless someone begs me or i give in lol

androids were okay.

you don’t need an android and you weren’t all that interested in them. you were impartial to androids, they were okay but you preferred doing most things by yourself others than chatgpt for school assignments.

you were going to college and had moved into a decent apartment. it was okay, not in a terrible area and had enough space for you to live alone.

your friend was an idiot who spent her money haphazardly. giggling as she made idiotic financial decisions that she’d regret maybe a day later and come crying to you about.

when your birthday rolled around in your first year of college, you had complained that you don’t have enough time to indulge in any hobbies. it was something you vaguely wanted but simply did not have the will or funds to do it.

what was wrong with a little bed rotting anyway?

it was basically all you did….

you friend listened with a helpful ear as you lounged around in your apartment. her lips smirking as she randomly asked about your love life right after.

“ha. you’re funny.”

was your only response as you waved around a nonchalant hand. dismissing the question entirely. but surprised that your friend didn’t push further. usually she’d beg you to get a boyfriend so she can complain about hers.

but you didn’t care. you had better things to do than worry about some guy you have to care about the feelings of. what if a guy crossed your boundaries? do you just suck it up?

absolutely not.

so no, you don’t care about a boyfriend.

you weren’t lonely, you didn’t need anyone.

but when you returned home from class, you were greeted with your friend in your apartment. you’d given her a spare key in case anything happened to you but you were seriously starting to regret it now. there was a big fat smile on her face as she gestured to the man next to her.

no fucking way.

“happy birthday!”

“what the fuck is that.”

“Hello, I am a KS500 model.”

oh.

absolutely not.

your friend immediately shot forward to grab your shoulders to stop you from leaving. the android was standing in the middle of your living room, it’s face bored.

that’s all you cared to look at before you turned your doorknob. your friend whining behind you and trying to stop your hand.

“just give it a chance!”

“dude- RETURN IT.”

“I am a limited edition model that cannot be returned.”

the robotic voice rings out in the living room. the voice deadpan and monotone. your jaw drops as your friend grins and thanks the android politely.

it’s quiet.

before long, your friend has left with a smile. cake on your kitchen counter. and a kiss to your cheek as she waves goodbye.

“have fun with it! i heard it has special features.”

before you can whack her over the head with your textbook, she closes your door with a cackle.

well.

you turned from where you were standing with a sigh. taking a moment to really look at the android that’s apparently yours now.

it hasn’t talked since it helpfully informed you that it could not be returned.

it stood taller than you, it’s broad shoulders spread. it was slim like how most androids were, jawline pronounced. eyes stared at you, emotionless and light grey. fair skinned in the low afternoon sun from your window.

it’s hair looked… oddly long. not like the male androids you were used to. it seemed fluffy. sticking out everywhere. a dark brunette coming from it’s roots.

it was…

handsome.

that was odd to say.

it was definitely the look of someone who you’d hit on and it made you embarrassed right when you thought that. damn your friend for knowing you so well.. slowly, you walk in front of the android. examining it’s cyber life given uniform, the blue pulsating on the fabric. it’s model KS500 flashing every so often.

it was a button up with a jacket on top. a blue armband on it as it has it’s sleeves rolled up. it wore dark slacks and black running shoes.

it stares back at you.

easy.

not real.

unalive.

this is gonna take some getting used to.

“um… hi…?”

“Hello.”

it’s voice was deep and monotone. she’s heard androids speak before and they usually sounded a bit robotic. but usually polite and kind, easy to talk to if you really had to. but this one was clipped, a little gruff.

great, it doesn’t even like talking. is this how it was with your personal android? like talking to a wall?

“what’s your uh…. function?”

it cocks it’s head at you. the blue ring on the side of it’s head flashing yellow as you assume its trying to process your question. it’s eyes twitching before it speaks again.

“I am to serve you however you seem fit. I can spar, remind you of appointments, and do household chores.”

you stare and admire it’s weirdly handsome face. thick black eyebrows. eyes sharp like a wolf’s. it’s canine’s a little sharp.

you think whoever made this model had a type.

“I am also at your disposal as a sexual partne-“

you clap a hand over it’s mouth before it can keep going, extremely humiliated by it’s words. it can’t be serious.

right?

…

(you can’t believe your friend thinks your lack of a sex life is so concerning that you need a glorified male prostitute.)

apparently you slapped your hand over it so hard, it’s fair skin turned to a platinum white. your jaw drops for the second time in the past hour as you rip your hand away. gasping as you reach and cup it’s cheeks in your hands.

“i’m so sorry! are you okay?!”

you lean up on your tiptoes to look at the damage. before the white disappears and fades back into that fair skin tone. your hands grasping probably a mixture of plastic and silicone.

there’s a weirdly warm hand wrapping around your wrist as your eyes slowly look up at it. it’s eyes staring down at you from under it’s oddly long eyelashes.

oh.

it leans it’s face down so your noses almost touch. something hot crawls up the back of your neck as it spreads across your cheek. you’re too close and you can see it’s eyes flicker with something other than robotic nonchalance.

akin to amusement.

“You’ll have to try harder than that to hurt me.”

oh my god.

you jump away like a frightened animal and immediately cover your face. was that it’s coding?! who codes an android to respond like that?!

oh god.

your face flushes as you look back at it. a small smirk on it’s face before it smooths over and it’s back to a normal robot. shit, you already forgot it’s not a living being.

willing to not embarrass yourself even more, you stand back up straight and sigh. rubbing the back of your neck as it stares at you. it’s hands in it’s pockets.

fucking bastard…

“do you have a name?”

“Your friend didn’t register me with one.”

damn it.

what is he? a baby?

this is not her child man….

“aaahhh… what do you even name an android….”

it doesn’t reply. you’re glad it doesn’t answer everything you say like some people’s androids do. he must have specific programming. no wonder it’s limited edition.

from under her eyelashes, she stares at the- her… her android.

it stares back at her. indifferent to her dilemma.

goddamn it.

“wolf.”

you say exasperated with a dismissive hand. this is too much thinking and you have an 8am tomorrow. you need to do your homework and cook dinner.

turning your back to your android, you start to head to your room. it’s voice calls out from behind you. a little offended in your opinion.

“Excuse me?”

“did you not hear me right? your name is wolf now.”

you turn your head to see it blinking and twitching his eyes.

“Registering ‘Wolf’… to Cyberlife’s database…”

he emphasizes the name with a certain attitude. something that reminded you of sarcasm.

ugh.

what a dick.

you didn’t know androids were even built with a feature like that but you guess only you have the luck of your own android giving you lip.

whatever!!!

not your issue!!!

you friend probably made the store set him on the ‘asshole’ and ‘sarcastic’ setting.

and there it started.

your college life with a dickhead android newly named Wolf.

[boinin]

Blue Lock Volume 32 Omake

Plain text summary of Kunigami's profile data under the cut:

A bonus profile of Kunigami that wasn't included in Egoist Bible Volume 2!!

One day in Blue Lock during the Neo Egoist League…

After the fight against England, I practiced with Isagi, Bachira, and Chigiri for the first time in a while. It's not like it was fun or anything. I just got pissed off and fired up, Isagi and Bachira are the same soccer fanatics as always, and Chigiri kept bugging me. He said, "Watch me carefully."

I wish he'd just leave me alone and go on ahead. What a pain in the ass.

~~~

Weapon: Left leg middle shot, physicality.

Birthday: March 11.

Age: 16 (Second year of high school).

Zodiac sign: Pisces.

Birthplace: Akita Prefecture.

Family: Father, mother, older sister, him, younger sister.

Height: 6'2".

Shoe size: 11.

Eyesight: 1.5.

Blood type: O.

Pre-Blue Lock team: Seido Academy Soccer Club.

Dominant leg: Left.

Favourite soccer player: Didier Drogba, Olivier Giroud.

Age started soccer: 6.

Pet Motto: "Fair and square"

What he considers his best point: Straightforward honesty.

What he considers his shortcoming: I don't know what to do when someone praises me; curtness.

Favourite food: Seaweed soup (“It warms me up”).

Least favourite Food: Cereal that got soggy in milk (Thinks it's torture to eat)

Best side dish with rice: Pickled mustard greens (“Good in rice balls, too”).

Hobbies: Running on the beach; weightlifting.

Season: Spring (“It's exciting to have new things starting”).

Favourite music: KANA-BOON, Silhouette

Favourite movie: Iron Man, Avengers series (“I like stuff like that”).

Favourite manga: One Piece (I like Zoro and Luffy's friendship).

Character color: Orange.

Favourite animal: Polar bear (“It's not fair they're so big and violent yet cute”).

Best subject: P.E. (Always #1 in physical measurements).

Worst subject: Modern Literature, Classics (“Why do we have to learn this stuff?”)

Fetish: Neck tendons (“I always end up looking at them, in women and men”).

What makes him happy: Doesn't know, has never thought about it.

What makes him sad: Insults.

Favourite type: Someone calm and cute.

Number of Valentine's chocolates last year: 7.

Sleep time: 8 hours.

Part he washes first in the bath: Neck (“Always seems the stickiest”).

What he's liable to buy at a convenience store: Batteries (“I hate not having them at home, so I tend to buy them only to find we still have some left, so we have lots around”).

Team Mushroom or Team Bamboo: Mushroom. (“I let the chocolate part melt in my mouth and accumulate lots of crunchy bits like a squirrel. My sister says it's gross.”)

Recently cried: When watching E.T. (“Cried a bunch re-watching when he comes back to life. The song is amazing.”)

Age he received Christmas presents from Santa until: 9. (“When my big sister stopped getting them, I acted tough and gave it up, too. My little sister got them until 12, so I think I messed up. Damn.”)

Present he wanted from Santa: cleats

What he'll do on his last day on Earth: Listen to the sound of waves.

What he would do if he got one hundred million yen: Spend thirty million on soccer, put thirty million in savings, and give forty million away to people who need it.

How he spends his days off: working out, running.

What he would've done if he hadn't started soccer: Pro wrestling. I could've put these muscles to use and been a hero, though I would've been pissed if I got stuck as a heel…

Favorite person in history: the samurai Kanetsugu Nage. His "Love" helmet is badass, he valued his hometown, and apparently had a happy home life. Sounds pretty cool.

One thing he would take to a desert island: Flint. I think civilization starts with fire. If you have fire, you can fight, and you can stay warm.

If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The future. I think heroes change with the era, so I wanna go to 10, 30, 50, or 100 years in the future and I want to understand them and become like them.

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

Favorite Track is an Understatement - Prequel

🎶 Enemie to Lovers - Vibe (Chan x F!Reader)

🎵 University AU

► TW: alcohol, throwing up

❤ if you can't tell, I love writing about mundanity - boring life is such luxury

Circa 13 100 words

And with all due to respect, he hates you. 

The immense despise roots in nothing less than your obnoxious presence that is half intriguing and half compelling, somehow luring some people in and reminding others of what they are agitated by. 

He watches the way you casually brush some strands of hair out of your face, it gently brushing over your chin and cheek, a simple gesture he had seen plenty of people do, yet when you do it there is this trace of pretentiousness. He is sure you practiced this gesture in front of your mirror more than once. The same goes of the way you tilt your head and look up at people, feeding them their secret fantasy of guaranteed admiration. 

You laugh at one of Felix's jokes and he grins, evidently happy. Now, this is the worst for Chan. Seeing his friend happy is the absolute highlight of any day and the ideal of a world Chan wants to live in, but because it is you who seems to be the reason for this glimpse of Felix's happiness, Chan feels himself falling into a pit of distrust, not just regarding you, but especially himself. 

How could he wish his friend's smile away only due to the selfishness of not agreeing with the person who plays a part in its origin? 

Then you take a step back and friendlily wave at Felix as you get ready to leave the room. Any other person would have hugged him to say goodbye. Oh, how he hates to see you all confident in your boundaries, not because he wished you to suffer. No, not even his hatred would go thus far, but it would be satisfying to find proof of you matching his initial idea of a person he hates. 

You leave, but not without smiling at him in recognition, greeting him so naturally without assuming any of his feelings for you as he conceals it well by mirroring the tug on the lips. 

═════════════════════

There comes a moment when Chan accepts that  it is entirely his fault. 

He started this project out of the blue, a burst of angry energy in the middle of the night that pushes him into his well known obsession. It is messy, it is painful. His ears should be used to the ringing, yet this track's sounds penetrate his head deeper than any before, itching this brain not enough to be painful, yet enough to get uncomfortable with the pressuring caress of the tunes. 

He doesn't hear his phone ringing, but he sees the display shining from the corner of his desk. He pauses and reaches over to grab his phone. The stretch could have been a relief as his body was stuck in this crouched position for hours, his neck tense and head heavy, but as he take takes his phone, his arm almost brushing agains his open water bottles, he feel his muscles aching. His spine cracks and leaves him drained in his chair as he answers the call with a single swipe. 

No sound comes from the other side and in his already persistent annoyance he groans a 'Hello?' only to be met with no answer. He hangs up and leans back, his head in his neck and his headphones slide down. Like a dog wearing a collar, plugged up to his laptop by the electric leach, Chan barks out a horse 'fuck', takes his phone and calls Felix back. 

'What was that?', Felix asks confused and Chan listens to the muffled voices in the background, Changbin's laughter filling the gaps of calmness with his contagious excitement. 

'Forgot I had headphones on', Chan mumbles and types on his keyboard to quickly save the file. 

'Idiot', Felix snarls and chuckles affectionately. 

'It's late. When are you coming home?', he wants to know.

'In a bit', Chan says. 

'Are you alright?', Felix asks, suddenly sounding serious. 

'I'm alright, mate', Chan responds automatically, his hands busy as he packs his things, the zipper on his backpack being stuck. 

Felix hums and falls quiet. 

Chan gets the zipper to finally close his bag. 

'Everyone's hanging out here, by the way', Felix mumbles and Chan has to ask what he said. 

'Everyone's here', he repeats and that is when Chan hears your voice in the background, excitedly  cheering. 

Someone is jumping and Minho laughs, shouting instructions like 'right', 'left', 'down'. 

'A party?', Chan asks groggily. 

'Just a hang out', Felix assures. 

'Seungmin's dancing', Felix snorts. 

'Why is she there?', Chan wants to ask, angry at how naturally you become a part of his friend group. He wouldn't want Felix to know about his hatred. He obviously liked you, so he should be the last one to reject your presence. 

The bass reappears and hammers against his brain like it did a few minutes ago. It is his heart that is inspired by the brutality of the sound. It's so deep within him, this selfishness that he hoped he had buried it for good. It's all for ensuring the focus and capacity of benefiting the people he loves. It's also not working, he realizes bitterly. 

'Should I bring something on my way home?', Chan asks instead.

'Nah, all good', Felix answers. 

'See you then', Chan announces as he is more than ready to hang up, hating how hurried he is to escape Felix. 

'You okay with us being here?', Felix then asks, sounding unsure, seemingly ready to kick everyone out and leave himself. 

'Sure', Chan chirps, the sound of his own voice stabbing him in the tongue. 

'Okay. See ya', Felix hums and hangs up. 

═════════════════════

There is only so much one can do when it's time to relax and emotions don't act accordingly. 

What Chan does is getting home, seeing his friends sprawled over the floor to the sofa's feet and you sound asleep on the cushions, going to take a cold shower and taking a nap as if escaping consciousness was enough to clear his mind. 

'Get up', Felix gently urges.

The touch on Chan's shoulder is gentle but insisting. 

He grumbles and rubs his hair, his eyes, his whole face. He knows he is no beauty, especially not when he encountered sleep, and it rubs him the wrong way that he has o wake up remembering you look just as messy when you are exhausted. He bets, he'll find some of your hair on the sofa later. As if your presence needed any more of its traces in his life. 

Without questioning, he brings his body out of his bed and stands before Felix. 

═════════════════════

Despite being early, he isn't early enough. 

Felix's eyes light up when she waves at them across the room, a row of seats already reserved. Chan's eyes roll to the side. This time Felix catches him and frowns questioningly. 

'Something's in my eye', Chan excuses and repeats the eye rollin several times, blinks and finally shakes his head. 

Together they walk towards the seats. Even though Chan gives his best to fall behind enough for Felix to take the seat next to you as he entries the row first, it's not working out. Felix matches his pace perfectly and politely gestures towards the seat for Chan to take it. 

'Wait, did I pack my phone?', Chan suddenly asks and pulls his backpack from his shoulders to linger a bit longer, searching for his phone that rests in his pocket as it always does.

'You had it just when we got here', Felix says helpfully and waits until Chan digged through the insides of his bag.

'I must have forgotten it on the bench', Chan exclaims as if that was the solution. 

'Just sit down. I'll be back in a sec', Chan sighs.

Just when he wants to make his way back to the door he hears you saying: 'In your pocket.'

Instinctively his hand lands on his bottom, feeling the phone he knew was right there all along. 

'Idiot', Felix sighs in a giggle and again gestures towards the seat next to, no chance for Chan to dodge another time. 

He sits down next to you in defeat. That you smile at him utterly softly and greet him so calmly, he can't but relax a bit, just stirs up more anger within his soul. 

'Tired?', you ask sounding so genuinely interested with your head a little tilted, a strand of hair at risk of falling into your face, and it's enough for Chan feel the rage that makes his whole body buzzing. 

═════════════════════

The second the lecture officially ends, Chan jumps out of his seat and urges Felix to hurry to get out of his. There is no understanding to why Chan is so insistent on getting away, but Felix is immediately in tune, only to your voice to stop them. Chan restrains a groan and closes his eyes before he slowly turns around again. 

'Don't forget this... again', you chuckle and bring him his phone. 

'Thanks', Felix beams instead of Chan, who wordlessly takes the device and pushes it back in his pocked with a simple nod. 

This time when he keeps on walking he is alone in his motion. He passes through the doorframe with so much empty space around him, he remembers to got to the gym today. Broader, stronger, more capable, that is what keeps him going in the mundanity of life. When a memorable event takes place, he'll be ready. 

He hears Felix's laugher behind him and dares to turn. This time Felix does hug you and Chan can see your excitement in the way you hug him back, your eyes darting away afterwards, while Felix's linger on you. In a little run, Felix approaches and friendlily pats Chan on his back as they both make their way down the hallway. 

'She's so sweet', Felix sighs and Chan's jaw tightens. 

He hums, not in agreement. It's just a hum.

'Made any new friends?', he then asks as Chan opens the door for him. 

'Nah, I have enough', Chan grumbles and follows outside where the wind blows through his hair, the curls bouncing uncomfortably on his scalp. 

'Since when?', Felix gasps and laughs. 

Another pat on the back. 

'You're so weird nowadays.'

═════════════════════

Chan goes crazy. There is no other way to describe it, he believe as the aggressiveness if the beats overtake gas body and he slams his head against the back off his chair, more and more forceful with the crescendo of the melody he hummed into the microphone. It needs more echo on the last syllable he decides as the only comprehensible word of the track sounds.

'Favorite' 

It's all she wants to be, he repetitively thinks with every adjustment he makes. With each swirl in his chair he buries his fingers in his hair, tucking in the roots, yet no release occurs, only the echo of the subtle pain he causes himself. 

═════════════════════

You: Do you like pissing me off? Chris: what? You: Tf, was that act with your phone today?  Chris: me being clumsy You: sure... Chris: Why do you have my number? You: you're in the group chat of the lecture  Chris: and you searched for my contact just to be rude? You: Is it me who's being rude?

═════════════════════

Would you walk home with a man you barely knew? 

You ask Felix if he can pick you up from the evening lecture as it is already dark outside.

'Sorry, I'm out. Chan's home tho. I'll ask him', he says over the phone.

'No, Felix, it's fine then. Just-'

'He'll be there in 10', Felix interrupts and giggles. 

You sigh and allow his sound to put you in a better mood to hear him so lighthearted. 

'Where are you anyways?', you laugh back. 

'At a bar. Minho's river dancing.'

'Why?', you ask and sling your arm around you as the wind increases for a moment, the building behind you locked up already. 

'In honor of Han', Felix bursts out laughing, evidently not as sober as he is during broad daylight. 

'Alright. Make sure no one breaks a bone, yeah? Have fun', you say more upbeat than you feel.

'Chan's gonna be there soon. Nothing to worry', he slurs and quickly adds, 'But I'll stay on until you see him! You see him?' 

You quietly laugh. 

'Not yet. It's fine. Just go have fun.'

'Talking to you is fun', he grunts. 

'You know what I mean', you whisper as you see a dark figure moving in the distance.

'I don't. I'm stupid', he jests and Chan appears with a pretentious caugh. 

'Oh, is Mr. Loverboy finally there?', Felix giggles so loudly even Chan can hear him. 

'No, but Chan', you sigh and Felix lets out a sarcastic 'Right' before he hangs up. 

'Can we?', Chan grunts and nods towards the street.

═════════════════════

'So when does the dating start?' 'This IS dating.' 'No, dating's burgers and-and fries and shakes, and maybe another.' – The Half Of It 

He hates you and you know it, but it doesn't keep him from taking your bag and carrying it all the way for you. He looks straight ahead, focusing on something only he is able to see and you feel sorry that you seem to shrink his usual extroversion into stubborn silence. His shoulders are tense and you wished you could just reach out, take your bag, and run. You could, but he came all the way in the dark to pick you up, because you are too scared to pass by the tain station yourself when the drunk men occupy the space. 

You try to relax. He has free will. He could have declined. It's on him for being here, and your best idea to make it more bearable for yourself is pretending that he's your boyfriend until your home. To other people it might look like it, you think. A strong man carrying your bag while he leads you safely through the darkness, while he is wearing his casual clothes with a bracelet around his wrist and a simple necklace around his neck. Considering how many people at uni have a crush on him, you feel privileged to be the one who has access to him so easily. Connections, you think. It's always about connections. 

'It's like we're dating', he grunts annoyed and throws your bag onto his other shoulder. 

You look up and take some quick steps to be on his level again. 

'What?', you ask breathlessly. 

'We look like we're dating', he grunts again, louder, more annoyed. 

'Okay', you mumble ineloquently. 

'You'd love that, huh?', he spits and yanks his head to face you, his eyes as dark as his clothes, as dark as the night. 

'What?', you ask stupidly, because you are embarrassed. 

'Forget it', he mumbles and speeds up his steps again, perhaps regretting that he opened his moth in the first place. 

You hurry again and your mind wanders to a movie you've watched with Felix. He loves that movie. He cried, because according to him it is the reales depiction of how he thinks friendship is supposed to be that he has ever seen. 

'Dating is burgers and fries and shakes, and maybe another', you quote quietly. 

It is now in him to ask 'What?'.

'Dating is burgers and fries and shakes, so chill. We're not dating and it doesn't seem like we are.'

═════════════════════

'Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it.' ― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

'So, did you bring her home safely?', Felix asks, the controller in his hand. 

Chan wants to scream at how teasing his friend sounds, as if he wants Chan to finally crack open and bleed out everything he held inside, well aware that it doesn't belong to him, but to her. 

'No, I dumped her in the nearest trashcan like the gentleman I am', he grunts and drops his controller to walk away. 

'Was she mean or why are active agressive?', Felix asks and passes the game. 

'Active agressive?', Chan wonders.

He grabs two cans of cola. Felix places his hands on his shoulders and massages him for a few second. 

'Well, you're surely not passive agressive, man', he mutters and reaches out to take a can, but Chan quickly pulls it out of reach. 

'Hey!', Felix yells and drops his head against Chans back.

'Next time you call Hyunjin or whoever, but not me, understood?', Chan instructs and closes the fridge. 

'Next time you really dump her into the nearest trashcan. That would still be kinder than how you despise her', Felix whines and goes away without the can of cola, leaving Chan alone in the kitchen. 

He looks around, awkwardly holding two cans, one in each of his hand, while he wonders how harsh he actually is that even Felix loses patience with him. 

═════════════════════

'Why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side?'  ―George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

The dark circles under her eyes remind him of the puddles that linger after a long night of heavy rain. The go away eventually, but so much warmth and rest is necessary that Chan doubts her face would look fine again until the semester is over and she has time for herself again. 

'Did you forget to put on makeup today?', he asks seriously confused if there has always been this manifestation of tiredness or if they are recent, but his voice is so primed to her presence that he sounds offended seeing her like this. 

She just sat down in the row with one seat empty between them that is reserved for Felix. She looks up to the sound of his voice and wordlessly gets up and moves several rows to the front. 

When Felix enters the lecture room, looks around and once he finds you two, his eyes darted back and forth. Eventually, he greets Chan with a nod of recognition, but sits down next to her. It annoys Chan. Throughout the time of the professor speaking, he stares at Felix's and her back. He checks his phone, hoping for Felix to at least text him. It's only the dark screen that greets him and he stares at his own dark circles under his eyes. 

As the lecture ends, he takes his unpacked bag and ruches down to exit with Felix. He feels like a little child running after this friend who exchanged him for a better friend. It's so so stupid, Chan thinks and Felix's ease around you, his smile, comes to mind and Chan wonders when was the last time that he made Felix smile. 

'Hi! Want to go home together?', he asks Felix, ignoring her and he only sees her rising her hand in a goodbye in his periphery vision. The anxiety I this body leaves with her. 

'You alright?', Felix asks him when they exit the building. 

'Yeah, why?', Chan asks surprised. 

'Because you're weirdly being an ass to her and I don't understand why', Felix sighs and holds the door open, a gesture Chan would usually offer. 

When did he get so slow?

'Like, she's got shit going on and you make such an effort to make her feel even worse when she's even remotely in your presence. I think she only kept up with you for so long for my sake', Felix explains. 

'She doesn't have to', Chan mutters and Felix leaves him to the night with a bunch of cookies he baked and silence.  Chris: How are you?  You: Tf? Chris: Felix mentioned you're not doing too well... You: None of your business!?  Chris: Sorry for trying to be nice!? You: Too late You: Don't text me again.  ═════════════════════

'Laughter is poison to fear.'  ―George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

She is present when Chan goes to Felix's hangout. At this point he shouldn't be surprised anymore. There is a lipstick stain on her wine glass, Her nails are painted in the same colour. She'd almost glowing, Chan thinks. The way she leans into Felix's side, the way she smiles, almost shyly when he whispers something into her hair, the way he holds onto his arm when she clumsily gets up to go to the bathroom. It all makes Chan's body warm up in way he thought it had forgotten. 

She sleeps on Felix's couch and Chan doesn't want to go home. He remains on the floor to play uno with Felix, quietly, as they don't want to wake her. Felix wins and burst into a triumphant smile. Chan feels at peace. 

'Stay here. It's late', Felix whispers. 

'Nah, but thanks. I've gotta go work for a bit', Chan announces. 

His phone vibrates with a bunch of new messages when he arrives at his studio. There are videos from the evening and he lazily clicks on one. It starts with her quiet laughter and continues with Minho's habit of blinking which appears even more prominent under the influence of alcohol. It ends with her laughter, but when he rewatched the short clip several times, he notices that everyone was laughing in that moment. 

Something stuck with him and he opens his most despised file, a weird enthusiasm overcoming him as he adds sounds that he expects absolutely not going well together. It's experimental. It's exciting. 

═════════════════════

'But nightshirts aren't dangerous. (...)  They don't bite anyone except in self defense.'  – Pipi Långstrumpf 

:ɿɒɘᎸ oƚ ꙅǫᴎiʜT

 ᴎiɒq ꙅ'ɘ|qoɘq - ꙅɘɿɒmƚʜǫiᴎ -  ƚɘɿǫɘɿ -  ɘɔᴎɒǫoɿɿɒ ʏm - ǫᴎiʜƚɒɘɿd ɘ|ǫǫuɿƚꙅ ʏbɒɘɿ|ɒ I ᴎɘʜw ꙅƚɿiʜꙅ -

Chan quickly closes his note app and throws his phone onto the desk when a row of knocks sound. 

'Yeah', he shouts and Felix's blond strands enter first. His hair is messy and his eyes sleepy. 

'What is it with you and sleep? You could be such good friends, lovers even if you'd just give it a chance', the younger man whines and slips into the sofa cushions. 

'I gave sleep so many chances. At one point it's time to draw the line and move on', Chan coos in a chuckle and saves the file he still had open. 

'She stole my bed', Felix suddenly moans into the pillow. 

'What?', Chan turns around in his chair and reaches out to pull Felix by his shoulder onto his back. 

'My bed. Occupied', he stresses and rises his eyebrows.

'What?', Chan repeats stupidly.

'She-', Felix immediately stops himself, 'You know what, you hate her, I'm not talking about her anymore.'

'Yeah, but it matters to you. She matters to you', Chan spits in confusion. 

'So do you', Felix hums tiredly and gets up to pick up and push Chan's hoodie into his arms. 

'Let's go. I'm tired', Felix groans. 

'Why are you here then?', Chan asks in utmost confusion. 

'Because', Felix sighs heavily and throws his hands up, accidentally dropping this phone in the process. 'Fuck', he lets ou and inspects the broken screen without needing to bend down. 

'My bed is not available. My fucking phone is broken and I want to sleep!'

Chan doesn't ask further. He just leads the way home and arranges pillows and sheets for Felix to cuddle into sleep land in his bed. There is no reason to ask unnecessary questions when Felix is beyond the point of exhaustion. There must be a reason why he doesn't just sleep on his own couch. Chan trusts in that. 

'I need to tell her where I am', Felix mumbles, already half asleep in Chan's bed. 

'Phone. Yours', he adds. 

'Sorry, mate. I forgot it in the studio', Chan realizes when he feels his empty pockets. 

'Idiot', Felix lets out as the final sigh and ten minutes later, Chan hears his soft snores. 

🅈🄾🅄, 🅈🄾🅄, 🅈🄾🅄. 🄲🄷🄰🄽, 🄲🄷🄰🄽, 🄲🄷🄰🄽. 🅆🄷🅈, 🅆🄷🅈, 🅆🄷🅈. 🄸 🅆🄰🄽🄽🄰 🄲🅁🅈, 🅆🄰🄽🄽🄰 🄲🅁🅈, 🅆🄰🄽🄽🄰 🄲🅁🅈. 🄷🄾🅆 🄳🄾 🅈🄾🅄 🄰🄻🅆🄰🅈🅂 🄶🄴🅃 🅄🄽🄳🄴🅁 🄼🅈 🅂🄺🄸🄽? 🅂🄾 🄴🄰🅂🄸🄻🅈?? 🅆🄷🅈 🄳🄾 🅈🄾🅄 🄷🄰🅃🄴 🄼🄴 🄰🄽🄳 🅆🄷🅈 🄳🄾 🄸 🄲🄰🅁🄴??? 🅆🄾🅄🄻🄳 🄸 🄲🄰🅁🄴 🄸🄵 🅈🄾🅄 🅆🄴🅁🄴 🄹🅄🅂🅃 🄰 🅁🄰🄽🄳🄾🄼 🄶🅄🅈, 🄽🄾🅃 🄵🄴🄻🄸🅇'🅂 🄵🅁🄸🄴🄽🄳? 🄻🄴🄰🅅🄴 🄼🄴 🄰🄻🄾🄽🄴.

You type your thoughts away as sleep takes its time to greet you. Not even Felix's bed, his scent, his room, his quietness helps. You didn't sleep properly in weeks. Only at nights when you got to drink and be surrounded by your friends' laughters, you passed out. None of them have time tonight and Felix offered you his bed, believing that being away from home would help your mind to stop thinking in familiar patterns. Changing the walls, shutting out the trolls. Unfortunately, they are still joyfully bouncing off your brain, hammering agains the inside of your skull with their obnoxious laughters. Your skin itches and you get up to pull one off Felix's shirts out of his closet. You text him to let him know that you are stealing his shirt. You make a joke about now being his girlfriend for as long as you're wearing this shirt. You add another text, saying that he can come back and sleep here in his couch or his bed, wherever he wants. He doesn't reply and even though he didn't tell you, he never would, you know your constant presence starts to drain him.

Chan: Felix is with me. I'm only texting you, because he broke his phone and can't.  You: Alright. Thanks for telling me.  Chan: Why are you awake??? Chan: Not that I care about your wellbeing, don't worry, but kinda unfair that you kick him out of his bed and then don't even sleep. Chan: I don't care if you answer or not. I just want to let you know that I don't understand you.  You: ... You: Is he mad?  You: At me? Chan: What? Chan: No? You: You're not asleep either. Do you keep him awake? Chan: No, he got my bed.  Chan: Did you take more than his bed? You: Are you accusing me? Chan: I'm asking you about how much he needs to give for you to be satisfied.  You: He doesn't have to do anything. What the hell are you on about again? What the fuck do you think of me? Chan: Yeah, he doesn't. But you know damn well how to use his generosity. 

You stop looking at your phone. You shove it under the bed and turn around. You close your eyes and see the messages, and you pull the shirt over your head, walk to the bathroom, clean it off your scent, regardless how weak, by hand and dry it with the hairdryer. You fold it neatly and put it back in Felix's closet. 

═════════════════════

'And damn it,  if you fuck me over. I will rip your fucking face apart'  - High School Sweetheart

The sun rises and the air smells like fog and dust. Felix stumbles through the door, rubbing his eyes. He looks at Chan in tired annoyance. 

'Picked up my phone', Chan mumbles and hold up his phone. 

Felix only shakes his head not even saying out loud that it doesn't need the whole night in the studio to get one item. 

'Here', Chan slides a package over the coffee table. 

It lands in Felix's lap as he sits crossed legged on the floor.

'You bought me a new phone?', Felix asks weakly and Chan nods. 

It's his least favorite sound, Felix's sigh, the defeated look on his face. He does thank Chan, but his voice isn't filled with his usual sincerity. Chan drops to his knees next to his friend and pulls him into a hug. The blond hair tickles his skin, but the small hands on his back warm him. For a second Chan imagines he were a better person, just holding his friend for no reason and not because he feels like bitterness slowly but surely consumes him, and with it, the fear of being incapable of holding warmth by himself. 

Felix arrives to his apartment being empty. He arranges his new phone and finds some messages from her. 

You: Stole your shirt, hehe. You: It's the girlfriend certification! :D  You: I feel bad that you give up your bed for me :( Come back and claim your bed or sofa, idk. Kick me out whenever you want!  You: I hope you slept well (in Chan's bed; we're both bed stealers!)  You: I went to uni at around 6:30  You: You have your apartment back, yaaay :D

The bed is tidied, new covers, room freshener, some snacks on the pillow for him. Felix goes under the blanket and sleepily looks around. He gets up and checks the laundry. The covers she slept in are in the basket, but no shirt. 

Felix: Did you take my shirt with you? You: No. It's cleaned up an din your closet again :)  Felix: You didn't wash the sheets tho You: No, sorry. I can do it this evening! Felix: No, I just mean, you washed the shirt but not the rest of the laundry? Did you put the washing machine on only for one shirt? I'm just confused here  You: Oh, I handwashed the shirt? I think? I was tired? Idk... Felix: Tell me :( Did you sleep at all? You: I slept! You bed is cozy :D You: I think I was only half awake and felt like I needed to be busy for a bit? Yeah, so I guess I abused your sink and hairdryer to treat your shirt :/ Felix: Did something happen??? You: No?  Felix: No?? You: hmmmhmmm :) Felix: Wait, how do you know I slept in Chan's be? Did he text you? You: Yeah, he just told me you were alright, because you asked him to inform me. Felix: So he texted you. You: He did.  Felix: ... Felix: What else did he text? You: Nothing of relevance. Felix: Tell me? Please. You: Really nothing of relevance.  Felix: ... Felix: Don't lie. Not to me. You: Why did you not sleep here? Felix: Changing topics now? You: Yeah. I wanna know :( You: I'm a bit too much nowadays, aren't I? (It's fine to admit id that's the case!)  Felix: You're not.  Felix: You're the perfect amount. Not too much, not too less.  Felix: I just wanted you to have a night to yourself. No noise, no sounds from another person in the room next to you. Some peace, you know.  You: Thank you :(  Felix: It was nice. I almost manage to make sure Chan doesn't spend all night in the studio again.  You: almost...? Felix: He forgot his phone and went back to get it after I was asleep, but he just stayed there all night.  Felix: He bought me a new phone.  Felix: I Felix: I don't want to compare you two, but Felix: you know  You: what? Felix: You're both so so similar in the worst fucking way Felix: I love you both, but you both have such stupid tendencies that let me worry all the time  Felix: And I can't split myself into enough pieces to cater to your both's wellbeing  You: That's to your responsibility! :(  You: You don't have to.  You: I'm sorry.  You: I'lll do better! Promise.  Felix: Stop this You: What? Felix: I don't need you to change, do better, whatever.  Felix: I just want you to know Felix: That I care  Felix: That you don't need to do the laundry here Felix: That you don't have to vanish before I'm here with everything been tidied and clean Felix: That you can sleep here with nothing in return Felix: Because you're my friend Felix: And I don't need my friends to constantly suffer, excuse their suffering, buy me  new phone, snacks, and all of it Felix: I just need you two to be alright  Felix: And Felix: stop choosing pain  Felix: That was a lot  Felix: My mind is about to explode Felix: I'll sleep a bit more now You: Felix... Felix: Just come over tonight and let me hug you You: Okay Felix: We eat the snacks together  You: okay  Felix: You will wear my shirt, not because you need to cosplay being my girlfriend, but because you like wearing it You: Felix... Felix: Don't dare to bring anything for me You: Ok Felix: If I were a stranger, what advice would you give me rn? You: Tell Chan, too, how you feel... Felix: I will  Felix: Anything else? You: Be as kind to yourself as you are to others. Felix: yes.  You: Any advice for me? If I were a stranger you're very opinionated about? Felix: Rip Chan's face apart when he's being shit again. Felix: But he's my friend so don't actually, haha.  Felix: Gosh, I'm so pissed at him.  Felix: Imagine ripping his face apart. Be angry at him. You don't have to hold back, just because he's my friend.  You: Alright  You: Sleep well :)  Felix: See you later :)  ═════════════════════

'Everyone's different inside their head.' ―Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

'He's sick', Chan says simultaneously when you do. You laugh, and then he seems to  remember that he hates you and that he is supposed to be annoyed that you so easily assume that he wouldn'T know when his own friend was unwell. Felix was his friend before he was yours! His face hardens, his eyes darken and he turns away to sit down by himself. 

He hears you sigh and it is actually really difficult for him not to face you again and invite you to sit with him, not because he anticipated and enjoyed your company, but because he  couldn't stand Felix possibly finding out about you being left alone, when  you didn't have to. 

Eventually, he puts is ego aside and calls out your name. 

'Want to sit with me?', he asks and takes his bag from the seat next to him. 

He watches how you loo over your shoulder, directly at him, how you study his face, then the empty space he offers, and to his surprise, you slowly stand up and make your way to him. 

'What are you playing, Chris?', you ask and he internally freezes, hearing you say his name so clearly for the first time. 

Something in him fights making the connection of his being and your voice, but his lips betray him and he feels his soft smile appearing. Hopefully, his eyes don't decide to match them, he thinks in panic. 

'Nothing', he mumbles innocently and turns his head to more or less convincingly pretend that he is studying the blackboard that only had a few notes from the recent lecture on it. 

He hears you getting out your paper and pencil and with a glance he catches your little doodles, identifying some clumsy creatures Felix must have drawn and there is a little column that you titled 'Stupid Questions'.

'Why is this empty?', Chan blurts out and pressed his index finger on the square. 

'Because I don't ask stupid questions', you explain plainly and look at him with mock in your eyes. 

'Feel free to fill it tho', you jest and hand him over one of your pencils. 

'Alright', Chan laughs humorlessly and thinks for a second, before he puts the ink on the paper. 

⸮ɘɿɘʜ ƚiꙅ uoʏ ƚɘ| I bib ʏʜW

'Considering that it was your decision, it is truly a stupid question. You should know that, shouldn't you?', you sigh and pull the paper away, but leave the pencil to him. 

'I do know. That's why it's stupid to ask. I just did the task', he huffs and turns away again, feeling weirdly entertained and immensely annoyed. 

'Tell me', he hears your shy request. 

'Why? I thought it's a stupid question', he sighs. 

'Yeah, from you, not when I ask it', you explain shyly, hesitantly, as if you feared to be wrong, as if being wrong in his presence was danger. 

'So should I write this down, too?', Chan laughs and your eyes widen. 

Chan shakes his head, deciding that it's not a moment to banter, because you seem really uncomfortable and unsure of yourself, and yes, Chan hates you, is mean, but he's not a monster, he tries to reason. 

'I let you sit with me, because Felix would kill me if I didn't.'

'Sure', you laugh, obviously not believing him. 

'What? It's the truth', Chan wonders out loud. 

'Felix doesn't care. He know you don't like me. He just doesn't like when you are putting effort into hating me. Ignoring me is fine', you explain and Chan feel caught off guard.

'Yeah, I know', he lies. 

'You're mean, but you're not doing a good job making me feel disliked', you hum, he believes. Something about you sounds like a song, one he would complain about, but not turn off if it were on the radio. Even if it were played four times every hour, he'd use it as an opportunity to complain, but he would not turn off the radio. 

'You're not supposed to feel disliked', he blurts out. 

'Okay. So you just don't like me and can't help being the way you are around me?', you ask and he thinks you fear him agreeing. 

He does nevertheless. 

'Exactly.'

'That's okay', you say and smile. 

You smile right at him, softly and with a shimmer of relief in your eyes. He doesn't speak to you anymore that day, and you don't either. Silently, he sits next to you in the lecture, listening to the professor and his own inner narrator, and he relaxes to the rhythm of you taking notes, scribbling some animals, even writing some key words int the 'stupid question' column, and finally Chan walks you home, naturally. He doesn't even consider walking another way. He's stuck to your side, with respectful distance, but close enough to have each other's presence caressing one's consciousness. 

═════════════════════

'Love is messy and horrible and selfish...  and bold.' -Ellie Chu

A cat runs in front of the car. The driver only stirs aside slightly, the cat ending in the corner of the street with messy fur and bloody shoulders. Chan, under his breath, curses out the idiotic driver and throws himself to the cat, gently cradling it in his oversized hoodied arms. 

No vet is open at this time, so he calls Minho. He doesn't answer the phone. His shaking fingers accidentally press on her contact and her answer right away. 

'Chan?', he hears her confused voice and som teas drop down on his phone screen. 

'I need help. A cat- hit by car', he trembles through the words and carefully holds the cat closer to his body to warm it. 

'Send me your location', he hears and somehow manages to do as instructed. 

Not 20 minutes later and she arrived, a fuzzy blanket and a cloth hanging from her arm, a bottle under her arm. She is scared being out in the streets in the dark by herself, he remembers. He expects her to ignore him and take over the injured cat, but he feels her fingers brushing away the tears from under his eyes and she coos at him, telling him that he's doing well, that he can just try breathing, that nothing can happen to the cat now. 

She placed the blanket around his shoulders, then opens the bottle and drenches the cloth in clean water to gently wipe the cat's face first, then carefully combs through its fur to inspect the wounds. She holds the cat's head and slowly pulls her hand back again, sighing in relief when the cat holds its head up by itself. 

'Your apartment is closer', she whispers and Chan needs some seconds to realize that she is talking to him. He nods weakly. 

'Is it okay when we bring the cat there? The second the vet opens, I'll bring it there', she asks so so carefully as if Chan was the one being injured and he doesn't understand why she asks, why she emphasizes that she'll leave again as soon as possible, and he just misses her fingers on his cheeks, so he pressed a few more tears out in hopes that her touch returns. 

This time her touch isn't on his face, but on his fingers that barely meet the cold air as his sweater paws hold the cat.  

'Shhh, feel how stable you're holding the cat, hm? It's all safe and warm with you', she whispers to calm him, to remind him that he has the capacity to be comfort and safety. 

Again, he nods weakly and she makes a knot in the front of the blanket so it holds around his shoulders, and with the fuzzy cape, bloody cat, and tear drenched eyes, Chan walks home, her by his side, her opening his door, her taking off his shoes for him, her giving him something to drink, her not once taking the cat away from him, but only making sure it and he is comfortable, and then in the morning the vet is the first and only person he has to give the cat to. 

She leaves the second everything is arranged for the cat. He has to walk home alone now, and he refuses, so he walks to the studio. He adds violent sounds to his track and with each crack in the melody he misses her touch, her assurance, her support. The worst part is that he didn't worry or the cat once when she was by his side.

═════════════════════

'But still, if it's true, how can it be a lie?' - Pipi Långstrumpf 

He doesn't like her, at least he deeply believes so. Nonetheless, he has never felt more comfortable than he does in her presence. He is mean, ignorant, impatient, angry, scared, frozen, desperate, selfish... Like everyone, he has always carried those attributes in him, but he perfected masking them. Then she came and suddenly he forgot how to act. He started to just be, unfiltered and annoying. 

He tells Felix about the cat when he question's why your blanket is on Chan's bed. Felix immediately suggests that he can take care that you get the blanket back, but Chan refuses with a firm head shake. 

He doesn't tel you that he still has your blanket. You either remember or you don't. He hopes for the latter. 

He falls asleep with the blanket in his arms. It smells like the nightly dew it collected when he was holding the cat, but more importantly was the scent underneath, your scent. He never hated it. It does that the same your touch does to him. It makes him feel calm within himself, warm and held, like everything was under control, like everything was alright. He was alright with all his flaws and misbeliefs. 

He wakes up in disgust that tries to replace the blanket. He always drops it to the floor, makes his bed and throws it carelessly over it, running out of his room, out of his apartment, just away. 

He can't look you in the eyes and so he ignores you all together. 

Chan has this very innate tendency to run until he realizes he can't escape anything that already made its way inside of his heart. Still, he's relentless. He tries again and again, and his track becomes longer and longer. Every time he cuts it down to a reasonable length, he just reuses the left over pieces and layers them with the already remaining ones. It's a mess, it's loud and then too quiet, too abruptly. Transitions don't make sense, but he reasons that it's supposed to be experimental, full of contrasts. 

It will be alright, will be alright, will be alright, he hums. Then he sings it. Then he adds it to the instrumentals and distorts his voice enough for no one to catch what he is saying. It's only for him, a mantra clashing against the violence he added after the cat instance.

═════════════════════ 'I wish I could be as subtle and beautiful.  All I know how to do is scream.' ― Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

He screams into his pillow until his voice gives out. His throat hurts, his vocal cords are utterly strained. He will explain it with a cold. He will make jokes that he sounds like Felix now. It will be alright, will be alright, will be alright. 

You scream, internally, loud, heart wrenching, and pathetic sounds that only your heard can hear. People might argue about the existence of sound when no one is there to hear it, but to you it's clear. The sound appears. The sound is real, because not everything needs to be perceived to be real. Most things don't need to be captured by perception. Most things just exist unseen, unheard, unfelt. We might not be able to consistently define and explain affect, but it clearly exists, and so do your screams. 

═════════════════════

'Sometimes i think if nobody spoke to me, I'd never speak again.' ―Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

He takes his whiskey neat. If he drank coffee it were black. The time wouldn't matter, in the middle of the day or at night at three. You think of Chan every time Hozier's voice bounces off your walls and you wonder if you, too, could be so much as 'too sweet' for someone. 

Felix is calling for the third time in an hour and you let  your phone ring until it stops on its own. He always calls first, speaks first, but sometimes you just could't get along with his spontaneity. 

Felix: One emoji You: 🥃 Felix: Why don't you want to talk with me :(  You: Because all I'd say today, would make me feel embarrassed tomorrow Felix: I'll catch the embarrassment before it can reach you! You: We can call and you speak, I'll listen Felix: But I want to hear your sweet voice :(  You: I'll give you one syllable answers  Felix: That's no fun You: I'm no fun!? Felix: shut up You: I haven't even spoken and you tell me to shut up already You: See, no talking today Felix: You know that's not how I meant it You: I know  Felix: I'll leave you alone then  Felix: But you send me another emoji once your heart gets to heavy Felix: Promise me You: Promise ═════════════════════

'In the end it doesn't matter what words are said or unsaid...  Life's mistakes are made whether you can see them or not.  What counts is how we learn to live with them.'  – The Language of Threads (Women of Silk) 

He should do it like real people do. He knows that look. He knows on what edge she is standing, what the storm inside might feel when he sees her tears welling up when she puts her phone down. She immediately looks at him as if he had anything to do with it. Then she whispers: 'The cat died.' 

'I left them number, so they can update us', she whispers, her voice trembling just like her hand as she pushes her phone in her pocket. 

'Us?', Chan hushes. She doesn't hear him. 

'They couldn't do more', she repeats and finally the first tears roll over cheek. 

Instinctively, Chan reaches out and catches them before they wet her chin. She doesn't even flinch, doesn't blink, just her sad eyes looking at him. 

'I'm so sorry', she coos as if he was the one crying, as if they were back in the night he accidentally called her. 

Chan shakes his head and cups her cheeks, his thumb relentlessly soft running over her skin. He watches how her eyelashes clump together, six on one side, and seven on the other, her lower lashed desperately clinging onto the tears like little arms that are too weak to hold that much emotion. 

Carefully, he pulls her against him, his arms protectively around her, holding it all, so she doesn't even have to attempt hiding. She feels tens, but he starts massaging her back with small, but intended circles that he lets wander up to her shoulders. A soft, seemingly accidental sigh escapes her and she tries to cover it, he thinks, but it's only a sob that sounds agains this chest. 

His mind is blank. No words leave his mouth. The dryness of his throat wanders upwards until it sucks his lips dry, too. He swallows nervously and lets his numb tongue run over his lips while she gently places her palms on his upper arms and pushes him away. 

'Do you want to keep the blanket? As a memory?', she asks, her voice breaking off in the end. 

For a second he wonders what she means. The blanket still lies on his bed, messy and wrinkled to capture her scent for as long as possible. There are probably a few hairs from the cat stuck to the fluff, but he never inspected it visually enough. He clumsily clears his throat when he remembers that he isn't in his bedroom, but in the lecture hall that slowly more and more students enter, and her in front of him.

'I'd like to keep it', he says, to his surprise full of confidence, and sits down next to her without a further word, without a further thought, without any doubt that he wants to sit here and nowhere else right now. 

═════════════════════

'And when you love someone you don’t always see them realistically.' - House of Night

She sits on the bench with the hot tea steaming the air in front of her face. He'd seen her like this in summer as well as in winter, always the same bottle of hot tea. He used to think that she is plotting something when she sits like this. The contrast between her empty face and the way she smiles at Felix is just too stark to justify it with a simple mood change. Chan assumed she is conscious, so intentional, as calculated as he is when works on music. 

This time when he sees her sitting there, he only wonders why she is wearing the same puffer jacket in summer that she wears in winter, why she drinks hot tea when the sun was already hot enough. Why does she never seem to change with the world?

'May I?', he asks when he approaches you, careful to not startle her. 

He lets his hand linger in front of him until you hand him the warm bottle with a confused look on your face. 

He takes a careful sip and immediately feels the sweetened tea warming his body from the inside. The steam warms his nose and he feels like he can breathe a bit better. His fingers curls around the bottle's surface and he resits the urge to take a mother sip. Calmly, he hands it back and sits down next to you. 

'Why are you sitting here by yourself every day?', he asks quietly and watches the trees in front of him, the branches swinging through the air with soft bounces. 

He waits, then you move. His heart burns for a second when you get up and leave. Then it sinks. 

═════════════════════

'My experience has taught me that what you know isn't always important,' (...)  'What is important?' 'Living and growing.'  - The Queen's Gambit 

And with all due to respect, he is sorry.

The immense guilt roots in nothing less than your sweet presence that is half intriguing and half compelling, somehow luring him in and reminding him of what he is agitated by. 

He watches the way you casually brush some strands of hair out of your face, a simple gesture he had seen plenty of people do, yet when you do it there is this trace of pretentiousness, somehow an obvious invitation for someone else to touch her so softly, so conveniently. He is sure you this gesture has been full of hope more than once. The same goes of the way you tilt your head and look up at people, feeding them their secret fantasy of guaranteed admiration and Chan has felt it, the awe you hold for Felix, and for him when he holds a cat.  

You laugh at one of Felix's jokes and he grins, evidently happy. Now, this is the best for Chan. Seeing his friend happy is the absolute highlight of any day and the ideal of a world Chan wants to live in, but because it is you who seems to be the reason for this glimpse of Felix's happiness, Chan feels himself leaning back and relaxing.

How could he wish his friend's smile away only due to the selfishness of once not having agreed with the person who plays a part in its origin? 

Then you take a step backwards and friendlily wave at Felix as you get ready to leave the room. Any other person would have hugged him to say goodbye. Oh, how he hates to see you all shy in your boundaries, not because he wished you to suffer through overstepping them. No, not even his hatred would go thus far, but it would be satisfying to find you being comfortable in the small moments of warmth in life. 

You leave, but not without frowning at him in recognition, greeting him so forcefully without assuming any of his feelings for you as he conceals it well by mirroring the tug on the brows. 

═════════════════════

'A bruise is a lesson... and each lesson makes us better.'  ―George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

There comes the moment when Chan accepts it is entirely his fault. 

He started this project out of the blue, a burst of angry energy in the middle of the night that pushes him into his well known obsession. It is messy, it is painful. His ears should be used to the ringing, yet this track's sounds penetrate his head deeper than any before, itching this brain not enough to be painful, yet enough to get uncomfortable with the pressuring caress of the tunes. 

He doesn't hear his phone ringing, but he sees the display shining from the corner of his desk. He pauses and reaches over to grab his phone. The stretch should have been a relief as his body was stuck in this crouched position for hours, his neck tense and head heavy, but as he take takes his phone, his arm almost brushing agains his open tea bottle, he feel his muscles aching. His spine cracks and leaves him drained in his chair as he answers the call with a single swipe. 

No sound comes from the other side and in his already persistent annoyance he groans a 'Hello?' only to be met with no answer. He hangs up and leans back, his head in his neck and his headphones slide down. Like a dog wearing a collar, plugged up to his laptop by the electric leach, Chan barks out a horse 'fuck', takes his phone and calls you back. 

'I'm sorry', he hears you hush immediately. 

'What? No? Why?', Chan mumbles and types on his keyboard to quickly save the file. 

'For calling', you cringe. 

'It's late. Why aren't you sleeping?', he wants to know.

'I did', you say. 

'Are you alright?', Chan asks, suddenly feeling serious. 

'I'm alright', you respond automatically, and his hands get busy as he packs his things, the zipper on his backpack being stuck. Chan gets the zipper to finally close his bag. 

'I don't understand you', you mumble and Chan has to ask what he said. 

'You're confusing ', you repeat and that is when Chan hears your voice clearly for what feels like the first time. 

'Am I?', Chan asks groggily. 

'You are', you assure. 

'It's like you everyone and no one at the same time', you snort. 

'Are you drunk?', Chan wants to ask, angry at how naturally you become a part of his life. He wouldn't want Felix to know about this call. He should be the first one you call, not Chan. 

The bass reappears and hammers against his brain like it did a few minutes ago. It is his heart that is inspired by the brutality of the sound. It's so deep within him, this selfishness that he hoped he had buried it for good. It's all for ensuring the focus and capacity of benefiting the people he loves. It's also not working, he realizes bitterly. 

'Are you home?', Chan asks instead.

'Yes', you answer hesitantly. 

'I'll come over', Chan announces as he is more than ready to hang up, enjoying how hurried he is to get to you.

'You okay with being here?', you then asks, sounding unsure, seemingly ready to lie through your teeth that you didn't need him with you, when you clearly called him. 

'Sure', Chan chirps, the sound of his own voice stabbing him in the tongue. 

'Okay', you hums and hang up. 

═════════════════════

'There is nothing wrong with falling in love!'  ―Han Jisung

You lie on the floor, curled into yourself, your breath smelling like alcohol and puke. The throwing up came first, the drinks later. Unpractically, you get your boy up and go to the bathroom to wash your face, to brush your teeth three times, and another forth time just in case you still reek and can't smell it yourself. 

You send Felix an emoji, but also assure him that you're alright now. He immediately calls and you pick up only to tell him again that you are alright again, and that he can go to sleep. He asks several times if you're sure. 

'We can call for another appointment tomorrow', he says. 

'No, it's fine. This was just a minor setback. They happen', you assure him and yourself. 

'If you say so', he says, not sounding convinced. 

'Chan is coming over', you whisper in embarrassment. 

'Chan?', Felix shrieks. 

'Yeah. You might know him', you joke weakly. 

'Why?', Felix asks, but hurries and adds, 'I mean, good, good. I don't like you being all alone so much. He seems kinder to you nowadays, right? You good with him now?'

'I think so. I still like him. Ridiculous, right?', you whisper. 

A ruffling sound appears on Felix's end and you figure he is in bed, turning or sitting up. 

'No, not ridiculous. Like, yeah, I don't get how you can like someone who's mean to you, but I shouldn't be surprised, should I be?'

'I like you, too, and you're wonderful. I don't only like assholes', you remind him in a giggle. 

'Yeah, yeah, right. But Chan isn't really an asshole. I don't know why he is so weird to you', Felix grunts, getting annoyed. 

'I don't know. I might ask him later', you whisper. 

'If he acts like an asshole, scratch his face off for real, yeah? Your apparent, your rules', Felix cheers and you laugh. 

'Sleep well', you mumble softly. 

'I will. And you try sleeping some later, too', he yawns. 

'I will', you say and just when you want to hang up, Felix shouts 'Wait!'.

'Wear one of my shirts that you have. Confuse the grumpy man', Felix laughs and hangs up. 

It knocks. Three times. Significant pauses in between each knock. You take a deep breath and walk to the door, another deep breath right before you open. Chan looks weird, curls free and messy, eyes widen in uncharacteristic carefulness, almost shyness, almost. You've seen him being shy or at least what it looks like when he acts out being shy for the sake of being perceived as humble. He knows his arrogance, and so do you. He steps inside and for the first time he appears rather catish than wolfish.'Drop the act', you want to tell him, but the longer you look at him, the less you are sure of him acting and perhaps just being authentically unsure. 

'I brought you snacks', he says and pushes a bag into your arms as he bends down to get his shoes off. 

'Snacks?', you question and suppress a laugh at the ridiculous irony of throwing up not ten minutes ago, and Chan assuming more food needs to be swallowed by you and then the toilet. 

'I thought- well, I don't know, period or something, just in case there are also hygiene products in there', he mumbles and scratches the back of his neck while he sucks in the air through his teeth. 

'I'm not on my period, but thanks for the consideration', he laugh and walk back to the sofa on which you have your half your bedroom. 

'Oh my god, what's this?', he laughs confused as he follows you. 

'My sanctuary', you laugh happily. 

'I didn't know you were a worm', he laughs and experimentally lifts the thick blanket on which your warmth still lingers. 

'A worm? How am I a worm?', you question and Chan smirks. 

'All buried, only coming up when it rains', you snickers and you throw a small pillow at him that he catches without even trying. 

'I like the rain', you sigh. 

'I know', he sighs as well. 

'How?', you wonder. 

'Felix. He can't stop talking about you', Chan explained and sits down beside you, carefully pushing the utensils aside to no stain your sanctuary with his presence too much. 

'He needs other friends', you whine and pull the blanket over your legs. 

'He has other friends, a lot', Chan clarifies. 

'He should perhaps stop being friends with me then', you joke, but Chan looks at you with his brows pulled together. 

He doesn't ask why you're saying that, but he keeps looking at you for a long time. 

'Why did you let me keep you blanket when you clearly need it?', Chan asks coldly and the shiver he always pours over you runs down your back. 

He must have noticed as he immediately reaches out to wrap an additional blanket around your shoulder. His fingers brush over your cheek before he pulls away entirely again. An accident. A warm and painful accident. 

'Why did you come here?', you ask, feeling the tears burn their way up, flames under your eyeballs. 

The blanket feels soft, yet stable as you knead it in your fist. 

'What do you mean? You called', he hushes softly. 

'I hate you', you let out and close your eyes to hold your tears back. 

You want to sound harsh. You want to make him feel what he failed to make you feel. It's never been him. Being ignored, dismissed, mocked, seen as nothing but a bother, this all can't hurt you. What can is the fact that you like him and that you will never let yourself have that without the utmost judgement. 

'Do you now?', he asks in a smart, one eyebrow raised, and a laughter escapes him, a complacent, smug laughter, so full of himself like you wished you could be about yourself. 

The tears finally break free and with your blurred vision you let your body collapse into the big blanket. He moves with you, but down from the sofa and to the floor in front of you, his warm hands tucking the blanket tighter around you, so all your tears fall warmly and your accidentally sobs land in the soft wrinkles around you. 

'When you caught my tears like this-', he says quietly and carefully lifts his hand, waits a second and when you don't flinch away, touches your cheek, 'I didn't feel hated.'

He falls quiet and just brushes over your skin, calm and warm, and seeming oddly content. 

'I don't hate you', he coos, barely audible through your inner turmoil, through the pain in your throat, the feeling of your face being swollen, of your mind being foggy. 

'I really don't', he repeats louder this time and leans his head against the sofa, looking up to you while he keeps soothing your face. 

It feels nice, nicer than you dreamed of, being touched carefully, payed attention to so softly.You close your eyes and convince yourself that it's a dream. You don't care opening your eyes for a very long time. If it were only on you, you'd stay like this for at least a few days. It's getting warmer under the blanket and your body calms down. Chan starts humming, his touch never wavering. It must be a dream. You let it be a dream. It's alright. You can just sleep through it all. It's alright. 

═════════════════════

'I never want to be the guy who stops loving someone  for loving the way that they want to love.' - Paul Munsky

It feels like he is too late. Even though he is right here next to her, cradling her face as she finally sleeps, the scent of alcohol in the air slowly fading, sham his overcoming him, telling him that he should have been here like this way sooner. 

She was on her mind so often for so long anyways, but he was too stubborn to give her a chance, to give himself a chance to be honest. Honesty bound to hatred is easier to live with when he has to be busy. The anger, the frustration, it all energizes him and that's what he needs, he told himself. So, in a way he ignored her being human and used her to win over his tiredness. 

'What do you need from me?', he whispers sadly, cowardly at her unconscious form. 

He shifts his hand from his cheek to her scalp and gives her a soft massage, her little murmurs and sighs going straight to his heart. Time passes slowly and he doesn't mind it. When she wakes up only an hour later, he feels like crying.

'Already awake?', he ask worried and cups her cheek. 

'It's my routine', he she laughs weakly, humorlessly, tiredly. 

'Is it okay that I am still here?', he checks in and brushes his thumb over her skin, knowing this could be the last time he gets to feel her warmth.

'You don't have to be here if you don't want to', she whispers and he sees the tears returning, his own burning through his skull, searching for the path to his eyes. 

He feels so utterly lost, He feels so much and doesn't know if he is allowed to feel any of it. Can he allow himself to just feel? 

'I want to- if you want that. What-', he clears his throat and swallows his tears enough to at least be able to speak. He tells him that is the reason. He needs to speak now, not feel. He can't do both at once. 

He get lost in her eyes for a moment as she looks at him so patiently, so weakly, and he is amazed by how much kindness she was always able to give, how she still had the energy to not be ignorant towards his cruelty towards her, and beyond it all he feels selfish for wanting to love her. 

'What do you need from me right now?', he finally asks as fear occupies him more and more with every words he speaks. 

She looks surprised, then confused, and then worried. He flinches for a second when she reaches out to him and she stops, but he nods and leans back in and then he feels her touch on his jaw, gently caressing his skin. He closes his eyes and drowns in feeling her warmth through his touch as well as through hers and the tears seem to get on the right path. He feels the burning sensation, the throbbing in his head. 

'Don't leave', he hears her beg and he shakes his head, keeping his eyes shut. 

'Don't hurt me', she adds after a while. He nods, agrees. 

'Don't hurt her', he repeats internally. Don't. Hurt. Her.

When he opens his eyes, he finds the blanket falling off her shoulder and he nudges it upwards again. His hand brushes over her neck and she she lets out a laughter, mumbling that it tickles and he wants to coo, to cradle her whole body against him, her giggle, her whole being.

'I won't leave', he states. As he speaks the words they feel like they mean more than him being there in her apartment or not. 

'I won't hurt you', he adds and nods decisively.

'But what do you want me to do?', he asks curiously, desperately, in need to hear her being honest to feel safer in his own honesty. He knows he is still using her, relying on her, he knows. Old habits die hard. She takes his hand and shyly plays with his fingers and he expects an immediate answer.

'Do you hate me?', she asks instead.

'I don't', he repeats. 

'Do you like me?', she asks. 

He wants to tell her that he loves her, but he is aware that this would be too much, that him obsessing over loving her now being weird, obsessive in just the opposite way as he used to be when he passionately hated her. He wants to give liken her a chance. He wants to give her a chance, however that might look like, feel like, be like. He just wants to have her in his life. 

'I guess I have to get to know you to determine that', he finalizes in all honestly and she hums in agreement. 

'The thing is – you might not like this – I want to get to know you', she mumbles and pushes his hand into a fist that she softly holds onto. 

Chan looks at their hands. Her grip isn't strong on him, so he experimentally stretches his fingers open, nudging hers in the same position, and slides his palm under hers. 

'I like this', he whispers.

'I hate this, but I like... hating this?', he asks, looking up as if she could definitely explain the meaning of this statement to him. 

'Alright, Christopher', she just giggles and falls back into her blanket. 

'You look so cuddly', he coos and thinks of her blanket in his room. 

'Tell me what you want to do right now', she instructs and he laughs at her mimicking his question. 

'Liking you the way you like to be liked', he hushes. 

'That would be a lot of work on both out sides', she laughs tiredly. 

'I am a workaholic', he smirks in determination. 

'You're an asshole', she returns in fake annoyance. 

'I can be both, you know.'

═════════════════════

'Last time I saw you, I said that it hurt too much to love you.  But I was wrong about that.  The truth is it hurts too much not to love you.' - House of Night

He doesn't hate you. That's all you repeat I your head on the way to his studio. You repeat it when you enter the building, when you walk up the stairs, when you pull your sleeve over your knuckles, when you turn around to leave before your even arrived, when you turn back around and walk down the hallway to his little room after all, before you knock, while you knock, when you wait and even when he finally opens the door and looks at you, half surprised, half tired. 

'Come in', he whispers groggily and for the first time you slip into his little studio, his little sanctuary. 

'Did you come for kisses and hugs or yelling and insults?', he asks bluntly and sits back down at his desk to save a file. Then he turns back around, not inviting you to sit anywhere, only watching your next move. 

'I don't like yelling', you whisper and sit down on the little sofa, finding a fuzzy blanket draped over it. You know that blanket. 

'Me neither', he sighs and pushes his chair in your direction, coming to a stop in front of you and takes your hands. 

'Have you been sleeping here?', you ask him seriously. 

He nods. His eyes fall to the blanket and he blushes, looks away. The grip on your hand tightening for a split second, before he forces himself to be gentler again. 

'What?', you ask in a smile and try to catch his eyes with yours, but he is stubborn. You lean in and then he slowly turns hies head back to you, and you can feel his breath so close are you, and he can feel yours. 

'What made you shy?', you whisper and drown in his tired eyes. 

'I'm not shy', he whispers back. He'd lying and you know it, but you let him. 

'Alright, Christopher', you coo and lean backwards, watching his little smile disappear. 

'What now? Am I too far away?', you tease, and lean even further backwards until your back hits the sofa. 

'You're- I- Huh?', he stammers and leans desperately forward, hovering above you. 

Slowly, you take your hands out of his and let them run up his arms and to his shoulders. With devotion to trust and patience, you cup his jaw and brush your thumbs over his cheeks, the little warm tingles rushing through your hands and down right into your stomach like lightning. 

'You're bold tonight, huh?', he whispers and you nod happily. 

'Alright. That's alright', he says. 

He keeps looking at you, your eyes, your nose, your brows, your lips, and again your eyes. Chan places one hand on your waist and starts filling with the fabric of your shirt, not pulling it in any direction really, only twisting it between his fingertips. His other hand is on your thigh, steadying, grounding. 

'Would you hate me if I kissed you right now?', he hushes, sounding almost sad, his eyes all tired. 

Your hands go still, simply hiding his face now. There is a bit of fear in you, a lot of warmth, a lot of hatred for the fact that Chan never seems to be as happy as you wished, but there is also something deeper, hidden behind your heart. You're not sure how to name it. It's both heavy and light, warm and cold and so so right. It's like a part of him speaks to that part of you and bridges all the shallowness of your both's pretentiousness. 

'I wouldn't', you exhale and this time you wait for what he is doing next. 

You wait as your hands drop when he slowly sits down next to you, as he takes a hold on the blanket under you with one hand, and brings his other palm on your cheek, as he watches you for a while longer and you watch him, finding a soft curve in his lips, a shimmer in his otherwise darkened eyes. You forget that you are waiting and you just enjoy his touch, his close proximity, the way you can slightly se your reflection in his eyes, hear his breath, smell his scent. 

When you feel so enveloped in him, getting sleepy and accepting that this might be a dream much more than it is reality, he leans in. Carefully, so full of care. He doesn't let go oft the blanket, not when your lips touch, not when your hands hold onto his collar, only when you mumble name. That is when he lets go of the fuzzy blanket and holds onto you as if he would vanish if he wouldn't have you. And he kisses you again and again, and you become weaker and weaker, and he just holds you, doesn't wait until you lean against him, but pulls you against this chest, strokes your back to sooth you, and then, finally, he whispers your name. 

'I hate nothing of this', he sighs shakily and clings onto you. 

'Not you, not this.'

You don't see it when he looks over to his laptop where he just closed the file of the track he has been working on, suffering from, suffering with, never abandoning its idea, even though the idea is nothing concrete, not the slightest bit of certainty. 

He places a kiss on your forehead and tucked you against his chest, under his chin, in between his arms. 

'Let's go- somewhere comfier, yeah? Not this stuffy studio', he whisper into your hair and you hum, not wanting this to end already, feeling too good in his embrace. 

He only lets go of you with the greatest hesitation, and he clumsily hurries packing his things together, slinging the blanket around his shoulders. He takes your hand and doesn't let go when you walk down the hallway, down the stairs, into the night, through the building up to his apartment. It's warm, it's calm, no one speaks, none of you knowing how to speak to another without turning at least a bit cruel, too used to being the punching bag for each other's frustration, anger, and arrogance. 

As always, his apartment smells like wood, a subtle note of salt underneath, the sea, the beach. It's tidy. It's clean. It's utterly calm and inviting, his personality shining through the tiny corners in which he let his whimsicality out in form of gadgets, tiny stuff animals and random rocks he collected. 

With the blanket still slung around his shoulders, he opens his arms and when you step closer, pulls you into a cozy hug. He feels strong against you and he seems to be everywhere your senses could reach. He rocks you, playfully and after a minute a laughter escapes him. He sounds happy.

'Hmmm, you really hate this', you jest and cuddle closer your arms wrapping around his waist. 

'Pure hate. I'm a masochist', he sighs in a giggle. 

'Workaholic, asshole, masochist. What else is on the list?', you mumble into him, the fuzzy blanket falling off his shoulders, but you catch it before it lands on the floor. 

'Dependent on this blanket', he hushes and loosens one arm to take the blanket away. 

'It's mine', he grunts and laughs again. 

'It stinks. Didn't you wash it?', you ask and le them hold it, too distracted as long as you get to hold him. 

'Please shut up', he grunts and hugs you again.

'Mean', you sigh and lean back against him, remaining in his physical warmth and verbal coldness for a while. Some raindrops knock against the window and remind you of your heartbeat that is unfamiliarly unexcited in your chest. You wonder what Felix might say when you tell him about all this. He might not be surprised. Then you wonder if this whole thing would make it easier on Felix or more difficult, two of his friends so awkwardly woven into each other, threats of hatred and gentle obsession. 

Suddenly, something touches your chin and you realize it's Chan lifting your head with his index finger. It's guiding touch filled with forced patience that his voice doesn't manage to hide.

'Your mind is loud. Why?'

'I'm sorry', you immediately blurt out, but he shakes his head, his hand wandering up to cup your cheek. 

'Always loud, always brutally loud, but then you are all calm', he hushes, inspecting your eyes as if he is searching for something, trying to make sense of something. 

'Why can't I stop listening to you?', he asks, not waiting for an answer and leans in to place his lips on your forehead. 

[thebluebygracieabrams]

when the competition is making me cry in 10 seconds and your opponents are my parents

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

man i gotta go out in the dark and pick up my pizza so i don't starve..... somebody remind me to talk abt solaris. when i get back from picking up my pizza

[faewaren]

Me: literally just sees an image of Dys again

Me:

[thebluebygracieabrams]

i sorely miss my sister sooo much