#i just think it's strange how there's so many fics out there where he gives up his grace and everything is just fine and beautiful after

[illusionremember]

fic idea where Cas loses his grace and becomes human and slowly goes mad from being compressed into this tiny little human body dying all around him. not like in endverse but a whole new way of deconstructing over time. the breadth and span of history and the cosmos is too much for a human brain to hold and it starts with migraines and phantom limb wings and rings and eyes. He has claustrophobia and dysphoria. He feels comparitively blind and deaf and brainfogged all the time. His human shape simply cannot contain him any longer because he was never made for that.

but like, with a happy ending somehow, I'm not a complete sadist :P

[occudo]

An incomplete list of TMA fics I adore

-beacuse of this ask

(If you liked the fics I previously recommended/made fanart for, I think you'll gonna like these as well, but you know, read the tags, know what you are going into)

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey @cirrus-grey

Time Travel Fix-it! Slow burn! So good! So much sass from future!Jon- I doubt I have to introduce anyone this amazing author, but if you somehow missed them till now, this is your time! I highly recommend all of their other fics as well, for example one of a more recent one, The Stranger I Know Best is also a lovely read.

enthralling by Prim_the_Amazing @primtheamazing

Vampire!Martin!! I have no words of how much I love this concept, this story, everything about this. I think I'm going to repeat myself through this list, but I also recommend everything else they've written!

to fill... my heart with music? by godshaper @godshaper so their Martin and Jon design are different from mine, also they made a way better art for this- but still, I wanted to include this really good fic in this list.

Do It All Anew by inkfingers_mcgee or @crit20art

You know the feeling when you read a book that makes you cry, and after that you recommend it to your friend? Well- there is no reason I mentioned this, I'm just so normal about this fic. Or any other fic from inkfingers_mcgee... like Strange Manner of what I made another fanart way back. Also, check out their art!

Anyway, here is Aamal- she is not going to cause emotional damage.

And they were sidekicks (oh my god, they were sidekicks) by arthureameslove @arthureameslove

A lighthearted series where Jon and Martin are sidekicks of supervillains- it's just a really fun fic, also recommend everyting from this author - I previously draw fanart here for an other fic of theirs Like a Lighthouse, Call Me Home

neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well by saintbleeding @saintbleeding

To quote the aurthour: "Post-divorce Jon and Martin in a wedding-based romcom" It's such a comfort read, also has a Tim/Sasha wedding, and lots of cameos! I realised most of these authors I made fanarts for before- like this one for some kind of miraculous bind, this one is oneshot and a bit more serious in tone.

Give Me the Words by rakel @rakel-on-ao3

"Jon and Martin try to make the most of a bad situation in the Scottish Highlands. The situation is worse than they realised." You know that one post about wanting to write PWP, but it keeps turning into character study? Well, this one comes to my mind each time I see that.

i wanna find a home (i wanna share it with you) by heartshapedguy @transgenderboobs

So what would have happened if instead of the cot (tm), Jon offered Martin his own flat to stay? There is no way it's going to change their relationship, right? Such a good read, if you want some fluff, I highly recommend it!

Lucky Stars by magnetarmadda @magnetarmadda

Martin has a lovely family (except his mother) but still, he needs a fake boyfriend, and Jon comes to the rescue. It's one of the first fics I remember reading after I finished the series. It is such a comfort read of mine~

(+enjoy a rare tall Jon from me)

There are so many more fics that also deserve the spotlight, these are just the ones I read multiple times and/or didn't made fanarts for before. If you find something here you like, give them some love! Kudos and comments! They deserve it. (Also, just an extra disclamier some of these are PWP or rated T- just mind the tags)

I tried to link and tag everything, I hope it works.

[l1tw1ck]

Simeon's Devotion

Sub!Bottom!FTM!Priest Simeon x Dom!Top!AMAB!Holy Knight Reader

Word Count: 2,410

Reverend Simeon, plagued by sinful thoughts of a certain holy knight, is suddenly struck with a high fever and abandons his God

AFAB Language Used | 2K Anniversary Request: For a Simeon Fic | [Breaking the Thermostat]

CW: Non-Con, Heavy Religious Themes, Dom/Sub, Virginity Loss, Bleeding, Size Difference, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Belly Bulge, Womb Fucking, Squirting, Creampie, Kidnapping

You knock loudly against Simeon’s doors, heavily injured. You hear the sound of shuffling and see the lights turn on inside. Moments later, he opens the door for you.

Simeon calls out your name in shock. “What happened to you?!” He helps you inside.

“Ran into some demons..” You murmur, sitting down on his couch. “Can you heal me?”

“Of course!” Simeon hastily removes your clothes, leaving you in just an undershirt and boxers. You're both already used to this. “How many this time?”

“I wanna say…30?” You watch him kneel down and use his divine powers on your wounds.

“30?! Did something attract them?”

“I’m not sure. I was on patrol and everything seemed normal. The monsters looked strange too. They all looked like distorted versions of God and they were muttering things like ‘sinner’ and ‘dirty’.” 

“That's strange..”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You reach to rub your temple but Simeon quickly heals your headache. “Could I have something to eat? I know you're probably tired so something like crackers would be fine.”

“You need to eat a real meal. I don't mind cooking for you. You can sleep over too, all your clothes are washed.” Simeon finishes your last wound and stands up. It's very common for you to sleep over at Simeon’s due to exhaustion since demons usually show up on the outskirts of town and you live a bit further away. “Think you can take a shower?”

You stand up and groan, the sound making Simeon twitch. “I think so. Thanks, Simeon.”

“God must be disappointed in you. So much for being a priest.” You say, staring at Simeon. He’s wearing sexy see through lingerie and an extravagant matching sheer silk robe. His legs are spread and he’s leaning against his bed frame. His tears are glistening against his cheeks, they’re shining like glitter. “You're nothing but a dirty sinner.” You move his panties aside.

Simeon looks at you, batting his eyelashes. Another tear falls down his cheek. “You’re my god now.”

“That’s right, baby. You’re mine.” You slowly begin to ease your cock inside him. “And I’m yours.” You press your hand against his pelvis, a pretty marking appearing on it.

Simeon suddenly wakes up moaning your name with his hand stuffed in his underwear. He gasps and yanks it out. He quickly wipes his hand on his clothes and begins to pray. “Please deliver me from temptation.” He repeats the same phrase over and over but as his body begins to grow hot, his prayer becomes strange.

“Please give me [Name]’s cock–” Simeon gasps and covers his mouth. “No…Forgive me— I need his co—” He covers his mouth again. He can't talk. He attempts to pray silently but that doesn't work either. It just makes him feel even more horny.

He begins to absentmindedly remove all of his clothes, his hands moving on their own to touch his wet pussy. He leans back, eyes out of focus, and begins to touch himself but he doesn't really know how. He just rubs his folds, which feel extremely sensitive. “I’m…I’m a sinner..” He mumbles, still out of it. “And a slut.”

“Only [Name] will accept me now.” Simeon brings his hand up to his tattoo and presses on it, a wave of pleasure flowing through him. 

He stumbles out of the bed and drunkenly walks to his guest room, where you’re sleeping. Knocking didn't cross his mind as he opened the door. 

“Si- Simeon?” You ask sleepily, sitting up. “Is something wrong?” You can't tell that he's naked. You move to sit on the side of the bed and squint at him.

“Yes..” He says quietly, stepping towards you. He kneels in between your legs. “I need you.”

“What?!” You recoil. “Are you okay? Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk.” Simeon presses kisses along your legs down to your feet. “I’ll do anything you want, [Name]. Anything.”

“I think you need to drink some water…you're not thinking straight.” You get off of the bed. As you try to head towards the door, Simeon stops you.

“I don’t need water, I need you.” He pulls you closer, he’s somehow stronger than before, and forces you into a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to pass on his ‘fever’ to you. Heat rushes through your body as your rational thoughts dispel like bubbles. He pulls away and looks at you lovingly. 

“Simeon...” You hold his chin, speaking with a loving tone. “How beautiful.” You mumble. He moans your name breathily.

“Kneel for me.” You order. Simeon kneels once again. You pull down your shorts and boxers at the same time. His eyes widen, hearts forming in them, when he sees your thick length. The process of becoming a Holy Knight can alter someone's body in major ways but he never knew it could change by this much. “Open your mouth.” You run your fingers through his hair.

Simeon opens his mouth and lets you slide your cock inside it. His mouth is unbelievably hot. He can feel the corners of his lips stretching to fit you. The thought of you stretching his pussy open next makes him moan. He stares into your eyes as you begin to thrust. You're sure they're glowing. 

“Your mouth feels amazing.” You moan. Simeon moans as well. “‘S perfect for me..” You speed up your thrusts. He happily allows you to fuck his mouth. He closes his eyes and focuses on your voice. He’s so aroused it's becoming painful.

You tighten your grip on his hair as your thrusts become unruly and desperate. He looks at you again, this time with tears in his eyes. But the tears aren't because he’s upset. “You look so pretty when you cry.” You groan as you come inside his mouth. You slowly pull away as Simeon swallows your seed without hesitation. You're still hard and you both want more. You pick him up and slam him onto the bed. Somehow, the both of you are able to see perfectly in the dark. Maybe it has something to do with the glow in your eyes.

You spread his legs and smile at how wet he is. The marking on his lower stomach glows faintly as you physically observe his pussy with your fingers. He squirms around cutely. You kneel in between his legs, mirroring what he did earlier, and bury your face into his pussy. Simeon moans. “Yes– oh- yes~!” He sucks in a breath. “[Name]~!” It's like he's ascended to heaven. 

You drag your tongue up to his clit and gently suck on it. It quickly and unnaturally swells in your mouth. It feels like he’s stuck on the edge of an orgasm, although it feels good nonetheless. You slip a finger into his hole and then another when you realize how easily it entered him, despite his tightness. “Ooh- oh, [Name]~” Simeon squeezes your fingers tightly as you attempt to finger him. The constant flexing of his walls make it difficult to move them but you don't mind. You’re more interested in how that’ll feel when you fuck him.

He can tell he's not going to come from this. He's not sure why, it feels like there's something blocking him from doing so. “Put…put your cock inside me, please~”

You smile and move away, standing back up. “Of course, my love.” You lick your lips and line up your cock with his pussy, slowly coating your tip with his slick. He bites down on his lip and uncontrollably twitches as you begin to sink into his sopping warmth. He throws his head back and grips the bed sheets while moaning shamelessly. You're barely inside him. His entire pussy is throbbing so heavily, it's almost like a second heartbeat. Blood soon spills from your penetration. 

The true representation of his sin.

He moans your name with his enchanting voice. Your cock ‘knocks’ on his cervix and strangely enough, it seems to be allowing your entrance. Like it wants you to enter his womb. You don't think about how that should be impossible and slide further inside him. “It feels– feels so—” He gasps, squirting. His eyelashes are fluttering rapidly.

“There you go, baby. Come for me.” You rub his clit with your thumb. He writhes around, no longer squirting but his cunt’s still squeezing you like crazy. He isn't able to think about anything at all, his brain is overloaded. The outline of his tattoo is becoming a bright blue. “Good boy…keep going.” You praise him.

Simeon wants to say your name again but he is completely unable to speak.

“Let’s make up for all your years of abstaining.” You start to thrust. He slowly comes back down to earth with each thrust you make. 

“Ah–” His eyes are sparkling with tears. “You’re so big…stretching me out~” 

“That’s right, I’m making your pussy fit the shape of my cock.” You slowly rub the bulge on his stomach, fucking him at a slow pace. “Your body’s gonna remember me and only me.”

“That's– that’s all I want~” Simeon moans. “Only you~”

“So pretty…” You brush his hair out of his face. He looks like a painting. You bring your hands to his waist and slowly build up to a faster pace. He reaches for you so you lean in. He wraps his arms around you.

“I love you.” He says in a shaky tone.

“I love you too.” You look into his eyes. For a brief moment, he realizes this isn't the real you, then he brushes it off. He feels strange. “My sweet Simeon.” You kiss him. The bed starts rocking due to your quickened thrusts. You separate from the kiss, some saliva dripping down his lip.

He looks down and notices the marking on his womb is glowing and the same color as his eyes. His desire has been satisfied. It’s all over. He looks up at you, suddenly shaking like a scared rabbit. The artificial light flickers out like a used lightbulb. He can't see you clearly anymore. The only lights are the glow in your eyes and the faint moonlight. “[Name]?” He asks.

“Hm?”

You're still…you’re not aware like he is. He suddenly feels disgusting. He forced you into this. Even if he wasn't completely conscious. He should tell you to stop, but he doesn't want to. Is it so wrong to want a little more? “I…I-” He stutters. “Come- come inside~” If he can't have you, maybe he can have a part of you.

You kiss his cheek. “Of course.” You come inside of him only moments later. It feels like he forced it out of you. You look at him with an exhausted but happy expression before passing out on top of him. He doesn't try to move you.

You slowly wake up. You look around the room and notice a stain on the floor that you didn't notice before. And your bedsheets seem to be different too. You also feel a little strange. Refreshed, but strange. You get up and leave the guest room. You can smell coffee so you go down to the kitchen. “You're up pretty early. Don't you usually sleep in on Tuesdays?”

Simeon shrugs, not looking at you. “I felt like getting up early today.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything today. Maybe I’ll make breakfast this time?”

“It's okay. I’ll make it.”

“If you insist.” You know you can't convince him otherwise. “I wanna do something for you though. You deserve a gift.”

“Protecting my town is more than enough.”

“You’ll never change, huh?” You chuckle. “You know, the bed sheets look different from last night. Am I crazy?”

Simeon breaks the mug in his hand. You shoot up from your chair and rush over to him.

“I- I’m okay.” Simeon heals himself. “There wasn't anything in it yet.” 

“Good. You…seem weird today.” You notice he's not making eye contact with you.

“I..” He presses his forehead onto your chest and frowns, tears forming in his eyes. “I did something horrible last night.”

“What do you mean?” You bring him into a hug and gently rub his back to comfort him.

“Please…please don't hate me.”

“How could I hate you?”

“Last night…something strange came over me. I wasn't fully in control of myself and I forced you to…to..” He begins to sob.

“Simeon?” You ask, concerned.

“I forced you to have intercourse with me!” He blurts out, pulling away from you. He turns around and doesn't look at you.

You pause. “It must’ve been the work of a demon. It's okay, it's not your fault. It wasn't my ‘first time’ but…was it yours?”

Simeon’s eyes widen. “That wasn't your first?”

“No.”

He bites down on his nail. “When?”

“Um…maybe a decade ago?”

“Before you became a knight? And you haven't since then?”

“...Yes.” You assume he's uncomfortable due to his beliefs.

Simeon sighs. You were ‘reborn’ during your ceremony so you’re technically a virgin but you still have the experience. “Are you going to remain celibate?”

“I…well, I hope to find someone in the future. To marry, of course.”

“Oh.” He clenches his fist. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in?”

“I suppose I’ve caught a liking to Solomon, he—”

Simeon whips his head around. The look in his eyes is scary. “No.” He grabs your shirt. “No. You can't. You can't leave me.”

“Simeon?” You look at him in disbelief.

“I…I’m not letting you leave.”

Simeon looks at you sleeping peacefully on his bed. He isn't sure how, but he caused you to pass out and he was able to carry you here. He didn't even break a sweat. Due to a holy knight’s ability to neutralize certain forms of demon magic, Simeon is sure he isn't using that as you would've been fine if he was. But that leaves more questions to be answered.

He slides his hand down to his lower stomach and touches the glowing blue mark on his womb. It hasn't gone away. What is it? If it's not demonic then is it holy? How could this be holy?

He gently caresses your face. “I’m sorry, but I can't allow you to leave.”

You’ll be missed in the order of the holy knights but no one will worry when Simeon tells everyone he has bigger plans for you.

[gloomskulls]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚LIMERENCE [tasm!peter parker]

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

part 2

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ For Peter Parker, the deepest secret is not being Spider-Man. It's that he likes you, no he loves you, wants you in any imaginable way possible. After years of quietly admiring you from a distance, everything changes after a biology project that partners you two together. Peter sees a glimpse of chance to get nearer to you, but the line of affection and obsession begins to blur

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNINGS ୨୧ obessive peter, creep peter, stalking, masturbation, panty sniffing, dirty thoughts, breaking in, just peter being hopelessly in love. If any of this finds you uncomfortable, please click out do yourself (and me also) a favor. lemme know if I missed any! MINORS DO NOT READ

If you don't want to see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content

A/n: my first ever fic posted on Tumblr, yippee! This is also my first ever smut so it probs be equivalent to horse poo but anyways, this also takes place in tasm 2. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else i'm gonna turn you into Vicky from Terrifier/srs

Peter didn't understand what was so special about you, you were just a crush. Or that's what he convinced himself. Every single place you were in, Peter would carefully trail behind you, like there was a magnet strapped onto you, and Peter was the metal, he would always find himself drawing next to you. Peter Parker was no stranger to keeping secrets. It was, after all, the epitome of his double life. A mask, a costume, a name that wasn't his at all. There was one secret, however, that even the Spider-Man's mask couldn't cover—his growing infatuation towards you.

It started out really simple. You decided to give back the nerdy boy's pencil in sophomore year and defended him from Flash Thompson in his junior year, it was all simple really, something a person with decency and was taught with proper manners would do. But Peter took it as more than that.

Candid photos here and there, purposefully falling of his skateboard so you would help him, cryptic notes in your locker, sometimes a random flower if Peter was lucky to find any.

Limerence, as some might say

The first people who would ever notice Peter's strange behavior where the people who raised him. Uncle Ben would notice this girl in the screen of his nephew's computer, so did Aunt May when she saw many polaroid photos of the same face underneath Peter's bed. Peter shrugged it off, saying the same exact words to the both of them.

'she's just a crush'

Peter Parker was very good at being hidden in the open. Sure, he didn't want to be invisible, but it is what it is. One of the self-working "losers" with horrible punchlines and pretty much the face screaming "nerd". Well, it didn't bother Peter much. He had many other more important things to think about. You

It's been years now. It was already the last year of senior year, graduation was already nearing, still, he hasn't mustered up the courage to do speak to you, afraid that you won't reciprocate the same feelings he has. His been watching you from a distance, stealing glances in class and making mental notes on all the little things you did, like doodling on the corners of your notebooks or, how you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were concentrating. He knew that it was weird, creepy even, but Peter couldn't stop himself.

So, when Mr. Warren announced a paired project for biology, Peter's internal monologue kicked into overdrive.

"Pair work begins today," Mr. Warren said, his smile a gruff overture that still Peter thought unnecessary. "Choose your partners wisely, just choose somebody you will along with. You can really screw up over this project if you don't!"

The room broke out into a low buzz as students shuffled their chairs and moved toward their friends. Peter didn't move. He never did. Choosing a partner was like finding a needle in a haystack type of task for him

Alright, Pete, it is not such a big deal. You are not going to end up with her or anything. Just relax, find someone cool, and—

"Peter!"

Your voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked up to see you in front of his desk, clutching a notebook to your chest

"By any chance do you have a partner? My friends kind of made their own pairs" you asked, your lips curving into an easy smile.

Peter blinked. His brain short-circuited.

"N-nope. I'm totally solo. Flying solo. A lone wolf. A…"

"Awesome! Then let's team up."

Peter turned to you, his mind racing, he blinked, trying to absorb this. You were choosing him? He nodded frantically; his heart was hammering at a top speed that he was convinced you could hear it

You smiled at him, you fucking smiled at him

For the rest of the class Mr. Warren instructed everyone to plan for the project for the rest of the class. You kept bouncing ideas back and forth, and Peter felt a strange, thrilling sensation of in his heart. You were funny, clever, and surprisingly very easy to communicate with. Every time you laughed at one of his jokes, he felt like he was soaring.

When the bell rang, you packed your things and turned to him. "We should work on this at my place. Tomorrow after school?"

Peter nearly dropped his notebook. "Uh, yeah. Totally. I mean, yes. That works. Perfect. So super normal."

You laughed again. "Cool. Here's my address."

And with that, you scribbled it on a scrap of paper and handed it to him before walking away, leaving Peter frozen in his seat.

That night, Peter was sitting in his room staring at the address. To most people, that was just a little detail, probably not even worth a second thought. But to Peter, it was an invitation, or perhaps a key, even just for a second to get into your life. To know every little thing about you

Unfortunately, though, that's not enough.

He felt his hands shaking as he opened the drawer in his desk to reveal a small trove of hidden treasures; poorly taken pictures of you from a distance, bits of paper that you had thrown away during math class, and a small stash of hair strands that he meticulously collected from your hair comb when you weren't looking

This was love, wasn't it? The desperate consuming desire to be around her, to know everything about you.

And tomorrow, he shall get his chance.

You invited him, but Peter just knew it was really more than what you would ever willingly give.

His love was a web, and you were stepping into it, one delicate thread at a time.

Peter stood outside your house with a crumpled piece of paper clutched in his rather sweaty hand. The address on it was correct, but doubt clouded him. What if she had forgotten about this meeting? What if this was simply a joke? No, she would never do that, he tried to convince himself

Peter Parker was standing at your porch. Each thump of his heart sounded like one of the drums in the music club. He raised his hand to knock, hesitating for a moment. Maybe it was a terrible idea to come here after all; he could fake being sick, sending her an apology while rescheduling. Just then, the door swung open before he even had the chance to run.

"Hey, you found my house, I actually thought you would get lost cause I wrote the wrong color of the rooftop on the note" you said while stepping aside to let him enter.

"I was actually hesitant to knock, because it didn't look like the description" He quietly said. You actually got everything right, I was just being a huge pussy so I didn't come immediately, he thought to himself.

"Come in. I have started working on the diagram."

Peter plasted a grin and forced his legs down inside. "Well, look at you. Overachieving already. I guess I'll just sit back and let you do all the hard work."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, your voice making him feel that the world wasn't so bad after all. "Nice try, Parker. Grab a marker. You're on label duty."

"Come on, we can work in the dining area," you said, leading him across the house.

The dining table was already loaded with supplies, with textbooks scattered everywhere, colored pencils, sheets of poster paper, you name it. You positioned herself and gestured to him to join you.

You fell into a rhythm, your hand sketching the parts of the circulatory system while Peter scrawled out the labels in his neatest handwriting. He cracked jokes every few minutes, drawing out your laughter like a lifeline. It would be so easy to lose himself in the moment, pretend that you both were just two friends hanging out and not a guy hopelessly infatuated with someone who didn't even know half the truth about him.

Both of you had a relatively smooth first hour of working, few questions were asked here and there on the project. Peter kept his answers short, being extra cautious with what to share, but it seemed you did not mind. You sketched diagrams, jotting down notes with an ease that made Peter's hands tremble every time he made an attempt to help.

"So Peter," you suddenly announced after the silence, "why is it that you don't talk very much? At school I mean"

The question staggered him, rendering him blank while the colored pencil just hovered above the page.

Peter jerked up his head and looked surprised. "What do you mean? Talking is what I do. I mean, there's even people begging me to stop."

You smirked but didn't let it down. "I mean really, you're funny but I know nothing about you. What's your thing, Peter Parker?"

He didn't answer immediately but fiddled with the marker. "I'm just… some guy. Pretty boring, honestly. Not much to tell."

Your expression softened, "I don't buy that. You're not boring".

Your words made Peter's chest tighter. He wanted to believe you, yet the voice at the back of his mind reminded how wrong youwere. If you only knew the real him, the guy who had spent countless nights staring at your window, memorizing your every move, you wouldn't be smiling and sitting here before him.

"Hey, don't overthink it. You're cool. Let's just finish this masterpiece, okay?" you said, flicking his arm before he could answer.

Peter smiled forcedly

And when they finished the day's work, you walk him to the door once more, your smile as warm as ever.

"Thanks for coming over," you said. "You're actually a pretty decent partner, Parker."

"Decent?!" Peter gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "Wow. Don't hold back; tell me how you really feel."

And you laughed, shaking your head. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Peter waved. You waved back at him, as he strolled down the street, but he did not go very far. Instead, he found himself across the street in the same place, hidden under the shadow of the oak tree.

you were in your living room again, curled around a blanket and a pillow as you watched whatever was on your screen, your face glowing softly from the light of the television. Peter leaned against the tree with both hands shoved in his jacket pockets and simply watched.

How long he'd been there, he couldn't tell, but he didn't want to leave. This was the closest he ever felt with you, even if you didn't know he was here.

He knew this was crossing the line, but he couldn't help himself. He found himself sneaking into your house. Now he really felt like a robber trying to intrude a home, expect he wasn't really going to steal anything, or so he thought.

It was late at night, you and your family were already asleep at this point

Peter knew that the right thing to do was to head home. He knew for sure that this crossed a line even he wasn't sure he could come back from. But before he could stop himself, he was moving, slipping across the street and into the shadows of your yard.

His palms were slick with sweat as he scanned the side of the house. The metal trellis leading up to your window wasn't very solid, but it would hold him if he was careful.

He carefully climbed the trellis, not putting too much weight on it. And his heart was pounding as he got to your window, his fingers brushing against the cool glass.

It wasn't locked.

At that moment, his body froze. The rational part of him screamed to stop, to climb back down and pretend this never happened. But then his hand was on the window. And that soft sound of it sliding open seemed to be deafeningly loud in the stillness of the night.

He slipped into his feet and landed silently on the carpeted floor. Your room smelled of lavender and something warm and sweet like vanilla. A little bit of moonlight filtered through the curtains and brightened the room in pale silver.

There she was

You laid curled up in your bed, the blankets pulled up to your shoulders, your face peaceful in sleep. Peter’s breath caught in his throat. You looked so serene, so utterly perfect, that it made his chest ache.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity, just watching you. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to feel—satisfaction, maybe, or relief. But all he felt was a strange mix of awe and guilt.

This was wrong.

He knew it.

But he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

He looked around your room, it was full of polaroids of either you or your friends.

He started walking around your room quietly, careful to not wake you up in your slumber, because God knows what will happen if you saw him in your room with all its glory, he couldn't even imagine the disgust on your face.

But one thing caught his eye

Your bathroom was open, and in your bathroom was a basket with what he assumed inside were dirty laundry.

He knew it was disgusting, heck, over the top creep award would probably go to him, but he found himself walking towards the bathroom. It was wrong, but he still did it, he needs to get help, he thought to himself.

One second ago he was walking towards your bathroom, next thing you knew he was rummaging through your dirty laundry, occasionally smelling some of your shirts. He cherished the way your scent overwhelmed his nose, he was in Cloud 9.

While he was rummaging, a little piece of clothing caught his eye. With shaky hands he picked up the piece of clothing, it was your pink underwear with little cherries scattered everywhere as design.

He brought it near to his nose. He suddenly sat down in the neat cold tiles of the bathroom floor, he smelt it as if it was his oxygen.

He let out a small moan. He didn't know if it was an invisible force making him do such things, but he found his hands unbuttoning his pants

Peter Parker sat in the rest room; hand clasped tight around the lacy edge of the pink panty. He took out his hardened length of his boxers. The scent of dirty panties wafted his nose.

He imagined you wrapped around his throbbing cock, he thought of the feeling of your tight little pussy riding his cock, he wanted the sweet nectar from your lips, while having a feast on your quivering hole. His cock throbbed in his palms, his hands were much faster now, stroking his hardened cock. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from moaning

Why was he doing this? You were literally there, outside the bathroom, sleeping. And Peter was here, out in the open, jerking off to the smell of your used panties

He was drenched in sweat as his hairs stuck to his wet forehead. He fantasized about your perky tits; perfect little nipples erect in anticipation. Pumping the shaft rapidly, imagining you on all fours begging for more, the bounce of your tits while riding him moaning his name like a mantra, Peter, fuck Peter, Peter, oh my God!

Peter was breathing heavily, his release was near, he profusely pumped his manhood, his hands and cock covered in his sticky pre-cum.

He wanted to feel you inside him, want you to quiver in pleasure as he fucks you over and over again.

He felt a sudden wave of pleasure hitting him, before he knew it, he released a flooded torrent of jizz into sticky cum as it scattered all over the floor. He slumped against the wall, heaving as he tried to steady his racing heart. He looked outside the door, finding you in the same spot as you were. You were sleeping oh so peacefully

He gazed at you, his heart full of unfulfilled yearning. He desperately wanted to be part of your world, to be someone you chose to let in. Yet no matter how many jokes he made or how close you seemed; he knew deep in his heart that he was not enough.

A soft sound broke the silence.

Peter's eyes snap to the bed, and his stomach lurch at the realization that you were stirring. Your brows knitted, your breathing started shifting, just as if you were going to wake up.

He immediately threw your panties back into the basket as he stood up and fixed his underwear and pants

He felt panic surging him, he immediately sprinted near the window. It made a loud a thud, now he was fucked

He moved quickly and quietly without thinking as he quietly ran towards the window. Just as you were about to opene your eyes, he slipped stealthily past the fluttering of curtains.

He tried scrambling down the trellis and found the ground, shivering and shaking as he did so.

He was hidden in a shadow corner, looking up towards your window. You were sitting up now, rubbing your eyes and looking around your room with a sleepy confusion.

Peter's chest tightened.

What's the matter with him?

He hurried as he turned away, his footsteps quiet against the pavement

The cool night air wrapped around Peter Parker like a cold, suffocating blanket as he walked back toward his house. Each step seemed to slant further and further as if his sneakers were scuffing wet against the cracked pavement in a slow and deliberate rhythm.

It was as if the world had gone still—entirely quiet. No cars were heard, no distant chatter, no hum of the city. Just Peter, the quiet whistle of wind through leaves, and the pounding thuds of his thoughts.

With that, he shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his fingers curling into tight fists. Replaying the scene, he heard the soft sound of your breathing, the warmth of your room, and the way you stirred in your bed as if you had felt him there.

What the heck are you doing, Parker? He hadn't intended to climb into your room. He hadn't intended for it to get this far. Watching from the shadows was one thing, but tonight… tonight he had crossed a line.

He stopped moving and leaned against the lamppost, his breath escaping him in short, sharp gasps. Above him, the light flickered, shining unevenly across his shadow on the ground.

"This isn't me," he whispered to himself, the voice trembling.

But wasn't it?

Hadn't he been staring at you for years, taking notes while you weren't looking, memorizing all of your movements, laughter, and smiles? He had told himself that it was just harmless admiration from a distance, but now it was clear.

What would you think if you knew?

He sighed, Peter threw back his head and gazed up at the sky. Above him the stars, though cold and distant, seemed on to him— judging him in silence.

With the words of Uncle Ben echoing in his mind, With great power comes great responsibility, Peter winced.

Peter's jaw clamped down. Not great power; not yet. But wasn't all this part of it? Taking responsibility for his actions, owning up to his mistakes before they spiraled uncontrollably out of hand?

It hit him like a gut punch.

He wouldn't ever be able to take it back. Nor would he ever be able to wipe away the fact that he'd violated your space, your privacy, in a way you might never forgive. But he could stop it from going any further. He could ensure that you never found out.

@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me

[yandere-daydreams]

How do you think divorcing any jjk man or genshin character would go? Like straight up just leaving them cold when you had the chance.

tw - non/con, controlling relationships, abusive themes.

hmmmm i've never actually written a divorce fic have i. anyway we're going jjk with this because i've thought long and hard and come up with neat and concise categories that encompass all of their freak needs.

some less controlling men, like gojo and nanami, might let you go through with it, less because they understand why you want to leave them and more because they don't fully believe you ever would. you're their soulmate, the love of their life, the light of their existence, and even if you're a little angry now, you'll come to your senses eventually. sure, they'll talk to your little attorney and go to your little court dates, but the moment you actually start to physically remove yourself from their vicinity, try to strip them of the parts of yourself that they've already taken ownership of, they'll put a stop to your temper tantrum with a few more locks on the front door and a long night or reminding you why you got married in the first place, followed immediately by burning those silly papers you brought home and sliding the ring that you tried to return back onto your finger, where it belongs. they'll let you have your fun, sure, but at the end of the day, they're your husband, and they'll remind you as many times as they have to until it sticks.

others, like geto and yuuta, never present divorce as an option. geto's a special case - if you got married legally, then there's a very, very good chance that he's got you locked away too tightly to so much as see a courthouse, let alone step inside of one long enough to file for something as time-consuming as divorce. if you ever get away from him, you should be fleeing the country, not hiring an attorny. you know better than to waste your time on something so petty.

as for yuuta, there's only a small chance you consented to marriage in the first place. it's much more likely that you simply woke up with a ring stitched surgically onto your finger and a strange man calling himself your husband in your bed, and 'divorce' just isn't a word in his vocabulary. he's going to be your husband until the day he dies, and no scrap of paper you might show him is going to change that.

and others still, like toji, are going to panic. you can't leave him. i mean, you can - it's not like he's around often enough to stop you - but you can't leave him. you can say that you're sick of him crashing on your couch, that you don't like how often he comes home covered in blood, that you concerned about the well-being of his kids, but that doesn't mean you have to start yelling about ""restraining orders"" and ""calling cps"". you two are good together, and he's sure you'll see that after he gives you a good reason to stay with him - namely, a broken leg and his cock shoved deep enough inside of you to push every other thought out of your mind. you're lucky he loves you so much. if you're lucky, he'll even recite his vows as he fucks the concept of divorce out of your head entirely <3

[adragonprinceswhore]

Romancer I Teaser

Aemond Targaryen x Wife

Summary: During King Aegon II tumultuous coronation, Aemond’s wife becomes the first casualty of the Targaryen civil war. The young prince’s grief drives him to Flea Bottom, where he meets a mysterious Qartheen necromancer, who promises to bring his love back. But as with any sorcery, there is a price to pay; with each of Aemond’s touches, she slowly rots away.

Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, death, violence, sorcery, necromancy, angst, longing, smut

A/N: A Halloween fic for all my horror lovers! 🖤

He holds her until the heat of her body leaves her. Until she’s cold as ice in his grip. Stiff and strange.

Only once does he glance down at her, and to his horror, she’s changed. It’s not her anymore.

The soft cheeks he used to trace his fingers down are now hollow. Her skin is discoloured, and her eyes lifeless. Almost white, like the soul has left them and in its wake, a mist settles over the grave that once was a loving gaze.

Prince Aemond sits like that, with her lifeless, rigid body in his arms, for too long.

He cannot tell how many hours have passed, but he knows that he has lost a day when the sun appears, and disappears. It feels like an eternity trapped in the blink of an eye.

No one dares approach him. They know that the fiery prince will show no mercy to whoever chooses to disturb his mourning.

So he’s left alone in his devastation, until he cannot bear it any longer.

His fingers are blue from the cold air enveloping him in an embrace so chilling, it rattles his bones.

His love has also turned impossibly cold in his hold. Colder than the freezing, blue burn of a dragon’s flame.

When he can no longer withstand the chill, he finally stands. His legs almost give in and every inch of his body hurts. Still, he persists, never letting his love fall to the ground as he keeps a secure hold around her.

She is heavier than anything he’s ever carried before. He knows her, and this is not her. How many times had he not lifted her onto their bed? Pulled her in his lap? This sack of flesh weighs far more than she ever did, and yet he cannot let go. So he persits, and carries her to their chambers, sacrificing his own aching limbs in the process.

When he thinks he might pass out from the effort, he reaches their marital bed, and lays her on top of it.

Tenderly, he places her arms on her stomach, brushes her hair from her face, and closes her eyes.

She’s merely sleeping, nothing more. Nothing permanent, nothing everlasting.

Soon, she’ll open her eyes, look up at him, and give him a smile that melts his heart. Until then, he carefully places a quilt over her, and lies down next to her to find sleep, as husband and wife, just like so many nights before.

Full fic coming October 31st!

Edit: Find the full fic here

[hyunnie04]

cat and mouse

summary: your co-worker has been on your case ever since you've started your time at the company. a strange turn of events and circumstance changes all that.

pairing: coworker! lee know x reader

trope: enemies to lovers <3, office au

genre: slight angst, smut, and fluff

warnings: fem-bodied reader, oral, creampie, overstim, unprotected sex, bulge kink, spitting, etc. 18+ mdni

word count: 9.8k

a/n: a little practice piece for you guys, i hope i did well;; so sorry this took me so long to write :( i also hope it's cohesive enough, i keep writing this fic on and off sleep deprived lol

-

tick…

tock…

tick…

to-

“the clock isn’t going to speed up just because you keep staring at it.” the cubicle beside you chirps in, momentarily shaking you out of your thoughts. by now, you’ve trained to pay him no mind as you keep your focus on the clock that reads 4:56 pm, almost taunting you in a way. 

a few more minutes and you’ll be home free for the weekend. maybe you can finally relax and get away from your dreaded paperwork. perhaps look through your shopping apps since you had nothing else better to do for the weekend, or better yet- you could run a well deserved bath with that bath bomb you always wanted to use but never got a chance to. all the possibilities sounded heavenly although all that would have to actually wait until you get home.

one other thing that you had been anticipating all day was having that dinner after work with jeongin- your close friend and coworker from a different department. he had been begging you for ages to finally try that one soba place that opened up nearby with him. you being a good friend, agreed.

“you might actually melt the clock if you keep doing that y’know.” your cubicle neighbor- lee minho smirks, now standing and leaning over your workspace.

"what do you want?" pointedly asking him.

"oh, nothing. nothing."

“you just don’t ever shut up, do you?” you deadpan and tilt your chin up to stare at him, minho just offers a sly smirk in return. he always liked to bother and butt into your business for some odd reason. 

minho shrugs, “it’s fun teasing you. you do that thing where you scrunch your nose when you get riled up.” a vain visibly pops up from your forehead, but turn to your computer, hoping to drown him out with your typing.

you knew better than to give him a reaction. if you had a penny for how many times that particular vein popped from your forehead because of minho, you’d probably be a millionaire by now.

“oh, one more thing-” the brown haired man saunters back to his desk, and comes back to yours with a huge stack of papers. he unceremoniously plops it down, the annoying feline-like grin on his face. 

“what’s…this?” raising an eyebrow at him, you hope it's not what you think he's planning. you have plans. he crosses his arms and pushes his framed glasses back.

“paperwork, of course.” you wanted to strangle him. “yes, i’m well aware that this is paperwork. why is it now on my desk?”

before you could protest any further, “they want this finished by next week.” he leans to practically whisper in your ear. minho grins mischievously after he sees your pink flustered face take a step back.

the humongous stack was already on his desk, so your boss most likely assigned it to him in the first place. you furrow your eyebrows and turn to him, worst fear coming true.

"ohh no. not in a million years." you get up from your seat, avoiding the offending pile. he starts going back to his desk, neatly placing his things in it's organizers.

“why can’t you finish it? you- what are you doing?” but minho was already grabbing his bag and blazer and looking at his wrist watch.

“would you look at the time- thanks for covering for me!” aaaand he's gone.

plopping down on your chair, you bury your face in your hands, stopping yourself from pulling out hair. frustration creases on your forehead. well, you could kiss that dinner with jeongin goodbye. now you definitely want to strangle him.

-

lee minho. if you were to find a personification of the word annoying, the brunette would certainly be it. that man has done nothing but annoy the hell out of you ever since you started your time in the company. other people in your department often regarded him as one of the most reliable and polite employees here.

you would inwardly scoff at the frequent mention of minho and his apparent “reliable-ness and politeness” since all he was, was just the opposite. to you at least. it was hard to believe at first. 

but then you actually saw the way he carried himself with effortlessness and composure, handled business affairs, and how he mingled so seamlessly with fellow colleagues. it was nothing short of professional.

so you had a theory that he was only like that towards you. a complete dick only to you. you although weren’t quite sure why.

the girls in your department would often talk about him as well, mostly for his appearance. you really weren’t one for gossiping but you would listen in sometimes, curious about what they see in him. it was hard not to when they would gush about their workplace crushes and love lives so openly, a tinge of envy seeps through your bones every time it would be mentioned. you have got to get laid one day.

“he’s totally my type, you think i should ask him out?” your other cubicle neighbor says quite loudly during her break. her friend beside her shakes their head, “no, no you can’t.”

“why not? isn't he hot and available?” she asks absentmindedly. you start to zone out for a minute, only catching bits and pieces of their conversation. but you contemplate about what she said for a second, you would be lying if you said that lee minho was unattractive.

far from that actually. distinctly remembering catching a few glimpses of him from your first day, intrigued and interest piqued. his sharp nose and cheek bones, features were like sculpted by michaelangelo himself, his toned and lean figure accentuated by the perfectly well fit suit that he always seem to wear.

you definitely found him attractive at first.

that was until he started annoying you, so all of that was quickly out the window.

but you would probably end yourself before admitting that to anyone. you let out a disgruntled sigh, appearance wouldn’t really matter if he wasn’t such a knob to begin with. 

as you approached your dimly lit street, all you could think about was that feline faced jerk. what was he thinking, dumping all that work on you last minute? you felt really bad about cancelling on jeongin, texting him earlier about the sudden change of schedule. the dark haired man you've come to know just replies with a little;

'we'll just try again next week lol'

you breathe out a relieved sigh, thankful that he wasn't mad. kicking the pebbles on the side of the road, you imagined that the little rocks were minho's face. you could not wait until you get home.

“stupid paperwork, stupid minho, stupid…” 

your muttering fades and you suddenly stop in your tracks as your elderly neighbor waves you over from her front door, grandma lee or just grandma- as she insists you call her instead.

you bowed and greeted her, “hi grandma, did you need something?” you were quite close with the sweet old lady, her gray hair swaying lightly in the wind.

the elder would often check up on you after hearing that you traveled all the way from your hometown to the city, almost taking you in as her own. you were grateful for the company since homesickness would often creep up. she would also often bring you comically large jars of kimchi which you appreciated greatly.

she smiles as she gestures to the multiple bags she was holding, "i just need a little help getting these inside the house, dear." you take the heavy bags from her hands. what were in these, rocks? grandma claps her hands together in remembrance.

“have you had dinner yet? i made extra.”

-

grandma sets a bowl in front of you, the sight of seaweed soup instantly brings you comfort. your stomach grumbles as you dig in. she watches you intently as you practically inhale the soup, starved from the long and terrible day you had.

you sent her a polite questioning look. “i want to ask you for a favor.” she finally starts, flicking through the channels of her tv. the weather was on, the forecaster droning on about rain happening this week in the same monotone voice for the past 10 minutes. you look at her and nod immediately, she had done so much for you, doing a few favors aren't going to hurt.

“do you have a car, dear?”

blowing on the steaming hot seaweed soup, you nod again at her question, wondering where this conversation is heading.

“i need someone to drive me to my son’s house tomorrow, i'm staying over there for the weekend and my bags are a little heavy. would that be alright with you, dear?” you’ve heard about her family from her stories when she would have you over like now, little bits and pieces. you smile and agree.

a cheshire grin graces your features after a moment.  “what’s in it for me?” it was a joke of course, grandma knew it too. having spent a large amount of time with her, your humor must’ve rubbed off at some point.

you didn’t expect her to actually answer but she replies, “actually, i’d like you to meet my grandson as well. i think you two would get along. he's the same age as you too.”

the aforementioned grandson was someone you’ve seen in a bunch of grandma lee’s hallway pictures. you remember that he was an only child, often the only kid and the lone subject in the photos. your favorite was the kid in red with a toothy grin. he must’ve been 5 when it was taken.

"it was a joke, grandma. i'm sure your grandson wouldn't want a stranger suddenly coming to meet him." she shakes her head,

"nonsense. that boy doesn't know what he wants." you laugh at her persistence. getting another bowl of rice, you ponder her offer for a second. maybe this could finally cure your dull and dry love life, it couldn't hurt to try. if worse comes to worst, you could just pretend it never happened.

“but of course, i’ll drive you there. i have nothing to do anyways.” you say with a mouthful of rice. grandma pats you on the back and continues to flick through the channels once more.

“thank you dear.”

-

the sunset blears through your windshield, sun rays momentarily blinding you. it was clear as day. the ride to her family’s house was relatively quiet, the elderly lady in your passenger seat preferred to sleep the whole ride through after handing you the address, giving you a moment to leave you in your thoughts.

pulling up to the neighborhood, you let out a low whistle. the house was at the end of the street, steep and uphill. it was surely going to be a struggle to get the car way up there.

you get to the curb, reverse and try to park your car as best as you can. the house was really pretty, you thought. it looked pretty lived in too, but in a cozy way. vines was sprawled all over the brick exterior and flowers had bloomed all over the property.

you wake up grandma and start to haul her luggage up and out the car.

"you go up, grandma. i'll catch up."

after struggling to get the multiple bags of luggage up hill, you finally waddle to the front door. the door was left slightly ajar, probably for your convenience. you took a quick peek around, hoping for someone to let you in.

calling out before entering, you were met with silence. you figured they were too busy catching up so you eventually let yourself in.

the furniture adorning the hallway and rooms were made out of wood, the handiwork and craftsmanship was evident, intricate carvings on each and every one of them. it must’ve been made by grandma lee’s son as you’ve heard from her many stories.

a ginger cat with white stripes greets you as you enter the front door, it strides over to you in intrigue. leaning down and dropping grandma's bags gently, you let the feline sniff your hand before allowing itself to be pet. soon enough it starts rubbing its body on your legs and purring loudly. adorable cat, you thought.

silence fills the house, aside from the soft chatter coming from the other side of the wall. the cat leaves it's spot, not wanting to be pet anymore. you sit up and observe the house again, noticing a myriad of family photos adorning the walls and some of the tables.

coming closer to one of the pictures, again, you encounter the same young boy in red but this time he was wearing a cap sideways and a puffer jacket that seemed to be way too big for him.

"hello! you must be y/n!" a feminine voice suddenly calls out from the living room. you straighten your back from the mention of your name, hoping she didn't catch you closely staring at their personal and probably private photos. grandma lee comes out from the living room as well and walks towards you with a younger and kind looking woman in tow. she had another cat in her arms, this time it's coat was gray with dark streaks.

you smile and greet her politely, exchanging pleasantries. you quietly pick up the neglected bags and place them near the guest room. they continue their conversation with each other from before, you now awkwardly standing in the middle. looking at your wrist watch, you figured you should probably head on home.

"i suppose i'll get going now, it was really nice meeting you." mrs. lee looked startled at your sudden announcement.

"why don't you stay for a while? it must've been a long drive here, you're probably hungry." these two women weren't related by blood but they practically were, having the same idea when it came to hospitality.

"well, i don't want to overstay my welcome. i'm just here to give grandma a ride." smoothening out your non-existent clothes wrinkles in apprehension.

she waves her hand in dismissal, "but you must stay, you're already here anyways." she grins and pats your back. mrs. lee didn't seem to budge at your refusal.

you relented, finally accepting her offer. "my son is in the kitchen whipping something up. he's a great cook." you totally forgot about her son being actually here. the joke offer from yesterday completely forgotten and flew out of your mind. slight embarrassment runs through you, realizing that the offer was somewhat serious. you would surely need to mentally prep yourself for more socialization than you've anticipated.

but you instantly believe her claim that her son was a great cook, the amazing and aromatic smell of what seems to be steak and multiple herbs and spices from the kitchen wafts through out the entire house.

"okay- while we're waiting," mrs. lee gestures for you to take a seat, "you should go sit on the couch, y/n. i've been dying to meet you."

she hands you a mug of hot tea and sits down next to you. "mom here talks about you all the time, thank you for keeping her company."

"it's no problem at all, i like her company too." and with that, the three of you fall into a smooth and comfortable rhythm of conversation. the younger of the two women across from you continues to poke and prod into life, not that you minded. she would ask you about your life, where were you from, where you went to school, and where you went to work and among other things.

she offers you stories of her son gleefully in return, laughing about a particularly embarrassing story when he was younger. you learned that he was quite fond and talented in dancing, loves cats, and loves to cook. oddly enough mrs. lee never mentioned his name at all, you didn't want to pry. now that you've thought about it, grandma hadn't mentioned his name at all either. all you had for a lead was initials you remember seeing etched on one of grandma's photos. you figured you'd meet this person soon enough anyways.

after a while, grandma lee retreats to the guest room they've set up, assuming that she'd want to fix her belongings. mrs. lee starts to drag you around the house, urging you to help her set the plates up and talk more while doing so. midway through placing the chopsticks on the table, the sound of pots and pans clanging from the other room shakes you out of your thoughts.

"mom?" a voice calls out from their kitchen. it must be her son. you slightly raise your eyebrows, he sounds oddly familiar but you can't place your finger who he might've sounded like. you quickly brush it off.

"yes?"

"have you seen the slow cooker?" the man finally reveals himself and pokes his head through the entryway to the kitchen.

you lift your head and lock eyes with the said person. shock freezes your movements, dropping the utensils that you were holding. blinking owlishly in surprise, you weren't sure if what you were seeing was real.

you feel the wind knock out of your lungs. this was not happening. the brown eyes, brown hair, and cat like face from work that you've come to dislike stared back. you must be hallucinating.

standing across from you was lee minho, the lee minho. grandma lee’s grandson. the same one that's been tormenting you all year round. you just couldn't believe it, wondering what kind of luck you had to end up here.

you think back to when you looking (--more like snooping) at grandma lee's framed hallway photos, the kid- that was him all along? you're really bad at recognizing faces, you thought to yourself. well, she certainly made him seem like a complete angel from the stories.

"oh! this is y/n. your grandmother invited her to eat dinner with us." mrs. lee pulls your figure closer into a side hug and beams at her son.

he furrows his eyebrows at you, glancing back and forth at you and his mother. he must be as confused and shocked as you are. "hi." minho says, nodding at your direction. you purse your lips and shuffle uncomfortably in place.

minho again asks where the slow cooker was since the first time he asked was ignored. he was wearing a loose fitting shirt, his broad shoulders looking more prominent. you realize you've never seen him outside of his work attire before. he looked comfortable, domestic even.

his mom says to check the cupboards, paying him no mind and continuing to set the table up. minho nods slowly, eyes not leaving yours and heads back to the kitchen. a little shell shocked about your little encounter, you clear your throat and go back to the task at hand. you'd just have to deal with this for the evening and then you could go home.

when the table was done, mrs. lee turns to you, "y/n? would you mind helping minho over there with bringing the side dishes to the table?" you freeze at the realization that you would have to interact with him alone.

"sure." you say meekly. she thanks you and goes to the guest room to presumably get the older lady for dinner. psyching your self up before entering the kitchen, his broad back facing you. he senses your presence and chuckles.

you were sure he was going to make this whole night unbearable.

"well, this is a nice surprise."

"what are you doing here?" stupid question from you seeing as this was his own house. mentally face palming your head, he hums smugly and starts dividing the side dishes onto smaller plates. you notice his very toned arms flexing as he puts the tubs away.

"i should be asking you that. i didn't expect you to be here." he says nonchalantly, but you could feel a sly smile forming on his face as he speaks.

"neither did i." you grumble and lightly shove him aside, wanting to get the side dishes out to the table already. you ignore the way he looks so domestic right now.

-

you stare at him from directly across the table, hoping he would keep his mouth shut. he smirks while he eats, purposefully riling you up and glancing at you with a knowing grin.

do not lose your cool, y/n.

silence rings out the dining room aside from the quiet clattering of utensils on plates.

"y/n?"

"i'm sorry?" you snap out of your little less than friendly staring contest with him.

"do... you know each other?" his mother finally breaks the silence and here eyes flickers back and forth between both of you.

"yes-"

"no-"

a full on headache is surely forming now, it's going to be hard to hide your annoyance. quick, think of a lie.

"we're coworkers. same company." you grimace as he answers for the both of you. no use in hiding it now. "oh! that's wonderful." the older lady to your right clasps her hands in delight.

"you didn't tell me you worked together." grandma turns to you grinning brightly. you avoid eye contact with her, nodding and forcing out a smile. you wanted nothing more than want the ground to swallow you up right then and there.

"you two must be close." his mother says, sipping at her drink. you were about to open your mouth to say that you really aren't actually, but minho beats you to the punch.

"we kind of are." minho rests his elbows on the table and turns to you. he's enjoying this. the bastard was enjoying this. resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back to finish your meal.

hatred for the man aside, he really was a great cook as mentioned countless of times. you actually find yourself enjoying the meal he had prepared.

"tell me what you two get up to at work, i want to hear all of it."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, being honest wouldn't be the best idea. you didn't want these two lovely women to know how much of an unpleasant man their son and grandson is. and it was his house after all, the best decision might be to at least be civil with him.

so you play along with his facade, not wanting to disappoint them even if it was probably going to bite you in the ass later.

minho starts cutting the meat up into bite sized pieces while the conversation between the two ladies continue. he places it on your plate without saying anything. this takes you by surprise, looking at his face for an answer.

the two audience members among the dining table seems to have noticed your little exchange. a wrinkly hand touches over yours catches your attention.

"oh, so are you two..." she trails off, implication heavy on her tone.

"no- no, grandma. i told you i wasn't seeing anyone." you shoot a discrete glare towards minho.

"ah, i see..."

you shrink down your seat for the remainder of the hour, embarrassment flooding your being. why did he have to do that? you were already practically fighting for your life not to get too involved with all this, and he pulls that?

after that very eventful dinner, it was already nearing 8 pm. you figured that you should probably get out of their hair, not wanting to disturb them than you already had. that bubble bath and movie marathon you had planned in your head sounded amazing right about now. maybe that would help you forget about this crazy night.

"grandma," she turns in response, "i think i better get going." you smile at her, digging through your pockets for the car keys. a different cat from the other two that you've met takes long strides, stopping by your feet. you greet it by petting it's head gently. you wondered how many cats they have.

"now? look at the weather dear," you look briefly at the window nearest you, surely enough it was heavily pouring. you deflate at the sight.

"i don't think it's a great idea to drive out in a storm." she looks at you in concern. crap. the conversation at dinner must've carried you away, not even noticing the angry rumble of thunder that came from the sky. she was right, you don't think you could drive out there immediately.

the last time you drove into hard pelting rain, you couldn’t see through the windshield and almost crashed your car in the process. you could still remember how your car swerved and screeched when you couldn't control the way the tires' direction.

reluctantly dropping your hands to your side in defeat, "i guess i can wait it out for a bit." you finally say.

"yes, please do stay. we made extra dessert!" mrs. lee chuckles, seemingly enjoying your presence. glancing at minho, he was leaning on the side of the couch watching the exchange between you three, uncharacteristically silent and expression unreadable.

you reckon he wasn't all that thrilled about the whole thing either.

-

"the storm isn't letting up." minho sighs next to you, observing the dark and heavy rain pelting the window. it continues to pour down, filing in the silence.

"great." you mumble lowly, crossing your arms. a loud cackle of thunder makes you jump from your spot. he just laughs in response. you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, anxiety quietly eating at you. damn weather man. you should've paid more attention to the forecast.

the smart watch on your wrist flashes with a notification. it was 11 pm now. "you should stay until tomorrow, dear."

you feel a comforting hand on your back, it was mrs. lee. it was only her staying with you two right now since grandma had already retired back to her room.

"tomorrow? oh, i- uh... i don't want to intrude." you stutter and look down, unsure how to accept her offer. but as much as you wanted to turn her down, you knew deep down you don't really have a choice in the matter.

another strike of thunder confirms your pitiful situation.

"i know what you're thinking, you can take minho's room." her words take you aback, that really wasn't what you were thinking. but she wasn't serious, was she?

at the mention of his name and apparent lending of his own bed, he whips his head towards his mother. he points to himself silently and gawks in disbelief.

you try to stifle a laugh at his ridiculous face. it wasn't often that you see minho all flustered.

realizing that mrs. lee might actually kick minho out of his room if you don't say anything, you decide to spare him. "that's okay, i'll take the couch."

"are you sure? the couch isn't the most comfortable..."

you reassure her that the couch is fine and not to worry. mrs. lee takes this as a confirmation that you'll stay for the night. she beams and grabs her son's shoulder,

"minho, do you have clothes that you can lend to y/n?" she catches you about to protest at the unnecessary offer, "don't worry about that, you're going to end up uncomfortable if you sleep in your clothes right now."

she leaves not long after with a quick good night to you both, also not leaving any room for any counter arguments. minho nods after registering what she said, hesitantly gesturing you to follow him towards the room at the end of the corridor.

he was quiet these past few hours, you observed. the annoying minho that you have gotten used to was no where to be found. putting yourself in his shoes, you understood. having a person that you dislike come into your home and spend the night would irk you as well.

the unexpected warm lighting and a subtle citrus scent with notes of jasmine and sandalwood welcomed you upon entering. it instantly brings comfort. not really expecting anything coming into his room, it was truly a pleasant surprise.

you stand awkwardly in the middle of his room, not wanting to touch or disrupt any of his space or belongings. he heads straight to his closet near his bed.

"it's alright, uh..."

minho ignores your attempt to refuse and starts digging deep for clothes that he could lend.

okay, nevermind.

you quietly glance at the homey decor that adorns the wall of his bedroom. multiple pictures of what you assume to be his friends were strewn all across the room. some of them seemed to be taken when he was in high school and some more recent. there were doing various funny and serious poses, minho seems to be really well liked.

"alright,"

he starts handing you a pair of black jogging pants and a plain white t-shirt. you reluctantly take the pile of clothes from him, your fingers momentarily brushing. you were certain you could hear your pulse thump in your ears. it confuses you greatly.

"this is the smallest one i have, sorry."

he coughs and rubs his neck, "the bathroom is over there, if you wanna change."

awkwardly shuffling on the way to the bathroom, a sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you lock the door behind. why were you so affected by a simple touch of his fingers? this was minho. you quickly shove the odd feeling down.

you hold the white shirt up to your torso, it was definitely too big. the hem of the shirt reaching your thighs and sleeves reaching your elbows as well.

peeling out of your clothes, and hold up minho's large shirt to finally wear. as you put it on, you could faintly smell the cleanness of detergent and a faint musky patchouli scent. your cheeks burn with the realization that you were really going to spend the night here.

when you return to the empty main corridor, the leather couch was already set up with a cozy looking blanket and multiple plush pillows. you struggle to hide a smile.

-

tossing and turning, you struggle to find a comfortable position on the couch. the blanket proving to be too hot right now, you push it off. you check your phone out of boredom and the led screen lights up.

1:19 am. it was in the middle of the night and the rain continues to pour outside. the occasional rumble of thunder once again evoking anxiety in you. sighing, you don't think you will be getting any sleep tonight. it's just you and your thoughts for now.

thinking back to this afternoon, the whole situation seems so absurd and surreal. who would've thought that you and minho would pretend being friends even if it was just for one night. it was a strange chance of circumstance.

the door from the end of hallway opens, a scruffy and disheveled minho rubs his eyes to get rid of his sleepiness. you sit up in curiosity to observe his sleepy state. he pads over the wooden floors to the kitchen looking for water, not sparing you a second glance.

when he was out of sight, you start thinking of ways to distract yourself, wanting to already succumb to slumber.

“oh, it’s you.” he says after coming back, finally noticing your slumped figure. "didn't sleep yet?" minho ruffles his hair haphazardly, trying to smoothen it down. you shake your head,

"insomnia. it's the thunder."

"ah."

"the couch is making your neck hurt isn't it?"

"yeah, that too."

he opens his mouth to hopefully offer another solution, but shuts it immediately. he wasn't sure if it would make you comfortable so he just stands there quietly.

"i'll go get you more pillows." he places his cup down on the coffee table before going to his room. minho stops in his tracks when he feels your fingers tug on his shirt. another strike of thunder flashes outside making you flinch.

"stay." you catch yourself saying before even realizing. it's selfish to ask but you don't think you could stand the thunder alone. watching him stare into your eyes, as if looking for an explanation- you offer him no words.

minho takes a seat at the end of the couch silently joining you, sipping at his mug. to fill the awkward silence, you clear your throat and fiddle with the ends of the cotton blanket.

you start thinking of ways to justify your selfish request of making him stay.

"i finished that damn paperwork you dumped on me. dick move by the way." you chortled to try to lighten the mood. he seems to notice your attempts to distract yourself and indulge your sudden desire to chat.

he folds his hands on his stomach, grinning. his bunny like teeth poking out. you always thought it was endearing. "it's fun seeing you all grumpy."

"sadist." you simper, the anger you felt from a yesterday dwindling at the surprisingly pleasant banter.

quietness takes over again. he stares into the celling, pondering. "i didn't know you were close with my grandmother." he says after a while. he avoids your gaze and places his mug back on the table.

"neither did i. it wasn't deliberate," you reply. he turns to you, curious about the story. so you explain to him how you met, for how long and that you didn't even recognize him despite seeing the photos.

he chuckles, "i bet it was this pose, wasn't it?" minho imitates the very same pose that he did in the photo, eliciting another laugh from you. it was exactly the same.

minho shuffles a little bit closer to you, now propping his arm on the back of the couch. you straighten up, now being hyperaware of his presence and proximity. he looks really different without his glasses.

a furry tail suddenly brushes against your exposed leg. you lean forward to check what had just rubbed past you, it was one of the cats. it meows for attention, pawing at the base of the couch.

"your cats are really cute." you watch him pick the orange haired feline and place it on his lap. one by one, two of the other cats that you've seen this afternoon start padding over to where you and minho were seated, jumping on the couch.

"that's dori," he points to the gray furred kitty. "doongie," an orange cat with a predominately white underbelly, "and soonie." the last one who's also orange but more so than the other. minho raises soonie's paw, waving it at you. cute.

"this one looks like you."

you scratch soonie's chin, the low purring getting louder the longer you do it. minho stares longingly at your eyes with an unreadable expression at the comment. you're not paying any attention to him.

after a while, the cats start to get tired of the two of you. they walk of to the end of the couch, now ignoring you and minho. you fold your arms and relaxing into the back of the couch, falling into a deep and comfortable silence that would be sorely missed.

"why do you hate me?" you say abruptly. the curiosity finally won, anxiety gnawing at your every fiber of your being. it was finally starting to be peaceful between you two and actually talking like normal people, your sudden comment might've affected it's chances of becoming true.

his head whips towards your direction in what you assume to be disbelief, furrowing his eyebrows. "since when did i hate you?"

you struggle to not scoff at his blatant charade, "minho, you have it out for me." this was strange and ridiculous. was he really being serious? how could he not be aware of the months of months of his incessant attitude towards you, and only you.

you remind yourself to be calm, to be civil. but he continues to feign ignorance. it was starting to get difficult.

"you don't treat me like the others, you constantly make my life harder by teasing me, and you dump your own paperwork on me. only me. the only time you talked to me normally was just a few minutes ago." your voice rising with exasperation.

"what did i do?" voice ultimately faltering, tired.

"i-..." minho refuses to meet your eyes, offering no solace.

instantly feeling vulnerable by your little outburst and by the lack of response on his end, you hug and bury the plush pillow for comfort. you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home and pretend this conversation did not happen. confrontation wasn't your strong suit.

after a long while of silence, he at last utters a low, "i'm so sorry."

"that was very, very stupid of me." minho's eyes are now trained on the hardwood floor, unable to even glance at you.

"what? the paperwork?" you scoff, "no, not just that. all of it."

you furrow your brows at him, "i just find you really really cute when you're mad." he continues. you stare at him, incredulousness and anger painting your features. before you could give him a piece of your mind, he speaks.

"and i realized i didn't know how to actually approach you normally without the teasing." he purses his lips, the cup on the table long forgotten. minho is staring up the celling now, still refusing to look to your direction.

"would you also believe me if i said i was jealous?"

you don't know what to say in return, heavily processing what he just said. what was happening? your mouth runs dry, confusion knocking the wind out of you.

"of your friend." he says, emphasizing the last part. you try to rack your brain of who he was referring to.

"jeongin?" you tilt your head. he says nothing, confirming the assumption. "i overheard him talking to his friends, bragging about how he was gonna take you out to this restaurant that he wants to drag you to." you couldn't possibly think of a reason why he would be jealous, you and jeongin are just friends. and why was he jealous in the first place?

"why are you so worked up about it? he's just a friend, minho."

"i'm not even sure myself," minho shakes his head in exasperation and turns to you. "but i like you, y/n."

standing there, paralyzed at his unexpected confession. minho likes you? he was giving you crap all year round, and yet he likes you? you shoot him a perplexed look, "wait, what?"

"let me get this straight," you hug your legs, trying to decipher what he was saying. "so your plan was to annoy the hell out of me, dump your paperwork seeing that you don't want me hanging out with jeongin because...you like me?"

"well, now it sounds stupid when you put it like that." he huffs, crossing his arms and pouting cutely.

deafening silence falls between you two, unable to say anything meaningful without stuttering and fumbling through your words. you just sat there, not really saying anything and staring at the floor. realizing that you probably don't feel the same, he sighs. its about time he went back to bed too.

"it's late. you should probably get some-"

before you knew it you felt your pulse roaring in your ears, grabbing his wrist and stopping him from standing up. you were going to regret it if you let him go.

"i like you too."

a magnetic pull causes you both to inch closer together, wordlessly gazing into each others eyes. you make the first move to lean into him, slowly placing an experimental peck on the side of his lips. you unsurely place your hands on his chest, "is this okay?"

his eyes flickering down to your lips and then back to your eyes. he licks his lips, still staring intensely- lovingly at you. he softly grins, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears and returns the kiss on your lips.

eyelids fluttering shut, you feel him press against you with much enthusiasm, deepening the kiss. you cup his cheeks as a reply, roughly pulling him towards you.

you already forgot about the rain outside.

he hoists you up his lap, a hand on your waist as he trails desperate kisses on your neck. minho pays his attention back to your lips, sloppy and open mouthed, saliva stringing from your mouths. urgency and eagerness was reflected in the way you both tangle your arms around each other, touching and caressing every part that you could reach.

all of the unresolved tension was slowly slipping away, replaced by desire.

a sudden meow breaks the two of you out of your trance. the green eyes of soonie stares up at the two of you, sitting quietly and their tail swishing side to side.

you loosen your arms around his neck, you two bursting out in laughter at the interruption.

"do you want to maybe take this to my room?" minho asks, placing a thumb on your lips. you didn't need to think twice.

-

your head hit his plush pillow, the cold and crisp linen feeling heavenly against your hot and flushed skin. shuffling up to the headboard, you watch minho with hazy eyes as he inches towards your form and props his knee on the edge of the bed.

he smirks as he sinks down on the mattress, hovering over your feverish body. minho sneaks a hand behind your back, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you over so effortlessly to the top as if you weighed nothing.

"now, where were we?" he murmurs into the column of your neck, his hot breath sending tingling and electrifying shivers down your spine. you respond by trailing your hands all over his clothed chest, wanting to get the offending article of clothing off.

he chuckles and grabs your wrists, halting you from doing so. minho kisses the inside of your wrist, a teasing smile dawns on his face. you look at him with desperate, pleading eyes, wanting to have him already.

minho adjusts his tight hold on you, biting his plush lips in anticipation. with you now towering over his figure, you lean down to capture the lips that you had been fantasizing about all evening and bury your hands into his hair. the kiss was wet and messy, your tongues sloppily and desperately swallowing each other's moans. a trail of saliva strings from both of your lips.

it was starting to get too hot for your liking. you cease your movements for a second to remove minho’s borrowed shirt from your body. minho’s eyes shamelessly rake over your chest, his finger leisurely trailing the middle of your breasts. you let out a low chuckle, finally unclasping the hook of your bra. you release a breathy shudder upon feeling something hard poking you from where you sat. grabbing both of his wrists, you eagerly put them up to your tits, you could feel your sensitive nipples harden because of his cold touch. minho starts pinching at the sensitive buds, prolonging his eye contact with you, clearly enjoying your erratic squirming.

you suck in a sharp breath and almost topple over him in pleasure as he takes a nipple into his mouth, hot, warm, and wet. it was overwhelming, having no one touch you like this before. he continues to lap at your hardening bud. minho groans, closing his eyes and further burying his head in your chest. your tits were covered in spit, glistening under the subtle light of his night lamp.

minho, while smothering himself in your chest, takes a moment to hook his arm over you. his skillful hands trail over to the waistband of your jogging pants and pulls it down. you oblige, leaning closer to him and lifting your hips so he wouldn’t have to leave your tits. you jump in surprise once you feel a light teasing smack on your now semi exposed ass, only covered by thin panties. it elicits a small moan from you, pulling his head closer. you lightly pet his head and thread your hands in his hair affectionately as he continues his sucking, feeling a coiling sensation from your core. 

but before you could cum, he detaches from your breasts, leaving his lips glistening with his own spit and his breath raggedy. a sly grin that you have come to love and hate graces his face upon seeing you whimper. the lack of stimulation makes you deflate, heaving frustratedly at his relentless teasing.

the familiar throbbing heat from your pussy suddenly gives you an idea. his hungry gaze watches you in curiosity. the bulge you were currently sitting on now immediately taking all of your attention. you do an experimental hump on it, hoping to relieve the aching heat from your cunt. minho's hands fly to your hips, groaning at the sensation.

"all this time, you made me think that you hated me-" you moan out, the fabric of his pants providing just the right amount of resistance. "when really you liked me?"

he stifles his moans by biting his bottom lip, his pants surely soaked through now.

"i did say i liked seeing you mad." minho manages to grunt out, licking his lips. you almost reel in disbelief but you keep your composure. 

"you're confusing." another thrust. 

"and i'm still mad at you." you huff out. hips now wildly humping against every ridge and curve of his cock. the sight of him makes you delirious, even more so that you’re humping against him.

"i-i'll make it up to you," he murmurs lowly, hissing the more times you buck up against him. "fu-fuck..."

despite the way that you were using him, it does nothing to quell the horniness you were feeling, in fact, it even spurs you on further. the wet patch from your panties soak and slowly transfer on to the front of his pants, your own wetness spreading messily every time you grind on his delicious dick, the ridges providing the needed friction that you've been so desperately craving. minho watches you, your tits bouncing up and down- he feels like drooling. "i love it when you use me." he finally breathes out, hands still on your hips, his nails making crescents on your skin. and finally, you cum, his words sending you over the edge.

it tremors through your body, white hot cum leaks out from your panties and you can’t seem to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on his broad chest. you clench your eyes shut in shyness, suddenly embarrassed from using minho so blatantly. he coos and pats your head in comfort, almost like how he pets his cats.

planning to make it up to him and eat his words, you sit up and shuffle down his hips. you admire the wet patch that stains his front, mouth watering. this surprises him, watching you with tantalizing eyes. you make a move to grab at his waistband, pulling it down slowly. he hisses out in pleasure as the waistband runs over his still clothed dick. minho’s boxers were thoroughly wet, you could see a dark patch on the front where you sat on him and where precum leaked out. you lift up a hand to experimentally give his bulge a tight little squeeze, him letting out a little shudder response.

it hardens even more under your touch- so you decide to tease him to test the waters even further, running your fingers over and over his tent causing him to hiss out, sending you a warning look. taking this as a sign, you lift the waistband of his boxers and stare at his eyes while doing so. it springs up immediately after freeing it from its confines. his long and fat cock stands tall, the tip a deep red, and the veins prominently running along the sides. the sight makes your mouth water in anticipation. you place a thumb on his cockhead, running slow circles on his slit causing it to drool heavily on your hand.

his cat like mouth parts in ecstasy once you start teasing the underside of his length with your hand and licking the oozing liquid up. minho’s hips start thrusting at the sensation, forcing you to hold him down. it was admittedly hard to do so, his thick thighs almost the size of your head but you still managed to restrain him from rutting wildly. the groan that leaves his lips sound is absolutely nothing short of sinful when you finally put your mouth on him. every desperate huff from him leaves you light headed, wishing you could record and replay it over and over again. when couldn’t fit all of him, you resorted to pumping the remaining of the shaft were you couldn’t reach. you egg him on even further by running a hand over his abs, seeing how his thighs and abdomen tense up. 

you look up through your lashes to watch minho unravel. his eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the stimulation. while it bobs messily in your mouth, you try to pay special attention to his hot and heavy balls, rubbing it back and forth in the palm of your hand, hoping to get him to cum. minho closes his eyes shut again and tenses his thighs, finally cumming. his hands travel down to grasp at his length, taking it over yours, spurting his essence everywhere. minho finishes with a loud relieved groan, slapping his dick lazily against your cheek which you greedily lapped at. 

“that might be the best head i’ve ever had, bunny.” he bites his lips, his voice light and airy. you quickly sit up from your position and gawked at him, suddenly feeling bashful at his apparent pet name for you. 

minho gives you a mischievous cat like grin in return, feeling absolutely delighted at your expression. he begins to lightly graze your leg, leaving tentative touches and gentle pecks along the stretch of your lower limb. lifting your right leg up, you stop minho from inching any closer towards you by putting your foot on his chest.

"y/n..."

you pretend to think for a moment, stretching this out for as long as possible. he would just have to wait since he had yet to make up for being so mean to you. a little fun also wouldn’t hurt, right? no, you were quite wrong. 

minho again grabs your ankle albeit more roughly this time and continues to place chaste kisses with more passion this time, clearly adamant about giving your legs and thighs hickeys. at long last, minho slides the wet and abused fabric off you, the panty is thoroughly soaked and it’s material sticking and clinging to your core.

he hooks ur leg over his shoulder, urging to part your legs apart and spreading them obscenely open. staring intensely into your eyes, minho starts teasing your core with feather light touches. “you like this?” he says his mischievous grin, continuing his ministrations. you offer him no response as he traces figures and shapes on your wet pussy that has you seeing stars. his fingers now erratically sliding up and down your folds. you almost sob at his nonchalant teasing, eyes clenching shut and begging him to put something in.

something about observing his veiny hand treading lightly just the outside of your lower lips leads you to tuck your face into your hands, the sight was like straight out of porn. “no, no. hands up bunny.” minho takes a hold of your wrists, putting them effortlessly above your head. 

“you have to look.”

his free hand drags along your legs to pull them apart and starts lowering his chiseled face down to your core. his nose just close enough to feel the small exhaling puffs of hot air on your pussy, causing it to twitch in suspense. the brunette sneaks a peak at your trembling figure before diving right in, the first contact of his tongue on your cunt was searing hot, instantly making jolt out in shock and cry out. minho takes this as a sign to hold down your hips, pressing, flattening, and letting his tongue rampant against you all while avoiding your clit. he hums at the taste, huffing and delving further into your pussy, eating you out with such intensity, placing open mouthed sloppy kisses. he spits to make your pussy wetter so he could languidly and erratically make out with your cunt. 

you throw your head back into the heaps of pillows behind you as he starts to pay attention to your clit, softly biting the bundle of nerves. minho then moves to swipe his index up at the large amount of cum and spit trickling from your core, using it as lube for his fingers. he gently prods his index in your entrance all while still licking you up. his long fingers, deliciously stretching your hole, deeper than all those nights you've tried to do so yourself. the bliss you were feeling was overwhelming. minho croaks out a little ‘hah, hah, hah…” every time he would come up for breath, completely drunk off your musky and intoxicating scent. you also don’t miss how he subtly humps the bed sheets he was lying under either. you began to arch your back upon hearing his desperate sounds, your arousal spurting on his face.   

minho looks like a cat who got the cream, his pupils blown wide open and wetness trickling down the side of his mouth. he lets go of your hands after you were finished, the numb arm falling on your forehead as you catch your breath. he stands up to re-adjust your form on the bed, pulling you closer to his pelvis.

minho stares at your eyes, asking silently for permission. you look up at him with a toothy- fucked out grin. 

the feelings that you couldn't place earlier was now clear, you wanted him.

minho reaches a hand over your face, caressing your flushed cheeks. he wordlessly leans to tenderly place a kiss onto your forehead and on your lips. you reciprocate lovingly, capturing his lips once again. minho without warning, pushes his long and girthy dick into you, the abrupt intrusion making you sob out. the bulbous head of his cock rubs deliciously against your gummy walls, you swore you could feel it in your throat.

“there we go. there we go…”

minho sets a rough pace, his hips thrusting against your pelvic bone. “ah-ah!”

toned and skillful arms cage you in, forcing you to look deep into his dark pools. "you better keep quiet, or else the whole house will hear you." that for some reason makes your cunt even wetter, weeping more than you thought was possible. the sole idea of getting caught with their precious son doing such lewd acts, it seems sacrilegious and absolutely sinful.

he once again reaches for your hardened nipple, tweaking and pinching the bud between his thumb and index. the bed was now creaking with how fast minho was going, you silently prayed that no one in the house suspects anything. the thought mortifies you.

minho leans against your figure and nuzzles up on your chest, looking up at you with an oh so innocent grin while he continues to pound your cunt. his movements start to stutter once he feels your walls clench around him. your mind begins to feel like mush but you still try to make an effort to suppress your groans of pleasure. a strangled sound between a moan and a whine leaves your throat once he hits that one particular spot in you.

“keep quiet, little kitty.”

you start squirming uncontrollably at the huskiness of his voice, not having experienced an intense orgasm like this before. “cum, you can do it.” your rutting hips stop to convulse for a moment, feeling your orgasm rip through the ends of your nerves. leaning back on his chest, you struggle to catch your breath, heaving from the aftermath of your orgasm.

fogginess still clouding your vision, you caught a small glimpse of minho to notice that he still hadn’t pulled out, his hands circling your waist gently. you unintentionally clench on his cock, yep he was still hard, very hard. minho sets his eyes on you, and gives you that look. oh no, you knew that look. the same one that he uses around the office to persuade a higher up to heed to his request. you nibble on your lower lip in excitement.

“one more, you can do one more right?” he coos, lifting your legs and his hips starting his monstrous once pace again. you double over in overstimulation, crying out in pleasure. his breath hitches after a particularly hard thrust, choosing to muffle his own cries by shoving his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your exhilarating scent. you respond by coyly playing with the hair on his nape, hoping that it would ground you to reality.

minho then sneaks a hand from below you and hugs your figure, pulling you impossibly closer. he swallows your moans, kissing you feverishly and running his hands wildly all throughout. it was so urgent, so intense, like he’s finding a way to meld your bodies together, his erratic and messy thrusts reflecting that.

your fingers clutch his thick bed sheets, euphoria piercing your body every time he drives another rough thrust into you. the lewd noises coming from the two of you echos and bounces off the walls, the conversation tomorrow morning was going to be so humiliating and awkward at the dining table.   

you can’t hold it in any longer, and by the looks of it, neither can he. minho cums with a loud groan, spurting inside you. "goooood kitty." minho rasps out. you gape at the warmness, causing you to finish as well. minho reaches his hand downwards to spread your combined release, spreading it messily. it drips out of you obscenely as he pulls out.

you were positively flushed. he was too, sweat still glistening on the wide expanse of his chest and forehead. minho brushes your hair back affectionately before plopping down tiredly next to you. you turn to him, wanting to admire his fucked out features but he looks occupied and staring into space.

“what's the matter?” 

"i really am sorry about the misunderstanding. i feel terrible that i made you feel like that. and i do really like you. wasn't lying about that." minho sighs out, closing his eyes for a moment and then faces you. “i want to start over, properly this time.”

"apology accepted. and yeah of course." you say, quite happy with how this whole misunderstanding turned out. "i really like you too." he kisses the top of your head, making you wrap an arm around him to cuddle.

"now you'll just have to figure out how to reject the girl beside your desk. she wants to ask you out."

"maybe we can start by just making out in front of her."

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW! Gambit/Fem!AFAB!reader SECOND FIC OF HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION LEHHHGOOO!!! I really hope you guys like this one, as I had a lot of fun writing it! Sorry if the smut at the end is a little barebones, I was running out of steam lol. Here's your meal my hellions!

A bat flies through your window one night, and although you're dreadfully afraid of rabies and scared to touch the little thing, it's in really bad shape and you can't stand by and just let it die. You spend the next few days nursing the little guy back to health, when one day he up and disappears. The next night you go out with your friends, and feel like you keep seeing a familiar pair of eyes in the crowd.

TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Smut, Mirror sex, bitchy neighbors, alcohol consumption, semi-public sex. vampire stuff, only half of this has been beta-read. I'll add more if I think of any.

    The bat hadn’t struggled once when you scooped it up into a spare shoebox. It didn’t scramble away, or even flinch, really. It hadn’t made a single sound or squeak, either. All it did was look up at you with strange, tired eyes. Black scelera, red iris, black pupils- paired with an exhausted haze. He was cut up, battered, and beaten. If it weren’t for how compliant it was, you might have thought the thing was feral. Which didn’t exactly help your shaking hands or constant flinching as you used the lid to urge it into the cardboard. But your fear be damned, you couldn’t just leave the little guy on the doorsteps of your apartment- the thought of the bat being crushed by clumsy feet, or poked and prodded by the little hellions that were the children who lived here was more than enough to give you the push you needed.

    Besides, it was almost… cute, for something you thought was so scary. A little vampire bat with those strange eyes that seemed to follow you wherever you went. He never failed to perk up every time you came home from work. Despite the many struggles and attempts you had trying to find something he could eat, he never seemed to hold it against you. Happy to see you when you took the lid off the shoebox to check in on him, and not too upset with you when you inevitably had to put it back on.

    Well, before he escaped, that is. 

    You knew you were going to have to let him go at some point. You were just trying to do the right thing and reach out to a wildlife rescue, or something. Hoping that they’d do something more to help him before he was set back off into the wild. But one day you came home and he was just, well, gone. The lid of the shoebox had been tossed aside, the box itself a little squished and damaged, the bat nowhere to be found. You searched your apartment for absolute ages, unable to find any trace of his existence or escape aside from a window you were sure you had locked before you left for work that afternoon.

    You sigh as you look out the window of the Uber, thoughts drawn back to the bat as you pass billboards and cornfields, hoping he had escaped the city and found himself somewhere a bit safer. Ashley and Sophie, your neighbors from across the hall, are giggling about something in the seats next to you. The chatty girls are more like acquaintances than they are your friends, but on the surface, they seem sweet. When they invited you out tonight you had been surprised, if a little hesitant. You had wrestled with your anxiety every step of the way, but once you were strapped into the sexiest costume you could find and buckled into the almost-too-small backseat of the Uber, you had started to feel a little excited- despite the fact that you stood out like a sore thumb, with the girls having chosen matching costumes at the last minute and left you out of the loop. 

    “I think we should hit the corn maze first,” Ashley says confidently from the seat next to you. It’s enough to finally clue you back into their current conversation, debating on where the night should start once you get to the Halloween festival. -It’s an “adult only” event, with more than its fair share of alcohol and more than a few scare actors who linger around to give everyone a fright- and there’s a lot to do. It’s almost like the fair, just, you know, spooky. 

    “What? No! I’m telling you, it’s not a good enough photo-op until the moon comes out. We need to do it last!” Sophie sounds adamant, and you wonder how many times they've actually had this conversation leading up to tonight. You try not to snicker as Ashley rolls her eyes, Sophie pouting across the way. They bicker a bit more before Ashley turns to you, smiling slyly. There’s an unnerving way about the way she’s looking at you, something ticking in the back of your brain that you just can’t shake. 

    “What do you think?” She asks you, Sophie leaning over to stare at you directly, Puppy eyes full-throttle as she pouts. You don’t really want to be caught between the spat of theirs, so you take a moment to think, before shrugging with your answer. 

    “I think we should start with drinks.” You say after a moment, and both girls gasp in excitement. 

    “Girlie you are so smart!! I knew we invited you for a reason!” Ashley’s high-pitched voice cheers harshly in your ears as she lightly slaps your arm, but you smile at her anyway, despite the fact that her tone made it feel rather belittling. It’s fine. This is fine, it will be fine. Your anxiety feels like a ticking time bomb, but you know that when you get there and start having fun, it will eventually fade into the background of the noise and lights of the festival. At least, you hoped it would.

    The festival is pretty packed when you get there, but the wide walkways and plentiful games, areas, and events make it more approachable. After the first watery drink of the night, you start to relax a little. And as bitchy and frigid as the girls can be sometimes, they’re a lot of fun when it comes to a party! Carnival games, photo areas, rides, and jumpscares? You find yourself laughing most of the night as the three of you goof off and stumble your way through the corn maze, clown maze, haunted maze- a little repetitive in that area, but fun nonetheless.

    The funny thing was, despite all the people here, and everyone the girls have stopped to flirt with and talk to, you keep seeing this one particular guy. He was certainly one to stand out in a crowd, tall, dark, and handsome with what looked like a permanent smirk on his face. But the one thing you couldn’t seem to shake was his eyes. They had to be contacts, right? Black Scelera, red irises, black pupils… just, strange. And familiar, somehow. You feel like you see him everywhere you go, somehow always in your vicinity, but not really in a stalkerish kind of way. Besides, it was more than likely just a coincidence. 

    After a while of playing various games and a couple more watery drinks, you’re feeling pretty warm and a little crowded. Ashley and Sophie had run into some acquaintances they knew and had stopped to chat for a bit. They talk about some of the more busy and exciting things you haven't been able to check out yet, but the longer you stand there, the less appealing all of this starts to sound. You’re beginning to feel a little overstimulated, and go ahead and let the girls know you’d rather sit this one out. Sophie doesn’t answer you at all, and all Ashley does is wave you off. It sparks some annoyance in your chest, but knowing that you’re overwhelmed and everything feels like it's at 100% right now- you shrug it off. 

    You find a bale of hay to sit on where you told them you’d wait, relieved at the feeling of the cool night air that’s uninterrupted by masses of warm bodies and hot breathing. The sound of the crowd is a little muffled over here, and the slight breeze just gives you everything you need for a quick break from the chaos, eyes closed as you lean back onto your hands. Not for long though, as someone plops down onto the space next to you pretty much immediately. 

    “Busy night, ay, cher?” Your eyes flick open quickly, and the source of that thick Cajun draw just so happens to be the handsome man you had been seeing all night. You blush a little, both out of nervousness and from the fact that he was even more attractive up close. The cool air suddenly feels sweltering with his eys on you like this. 

    “...yeah, I guess so.” You say after a moment, pressing a cool palm against one of your hot cheeks for a quick moment. The stranger chuckles at you, a flash of a fake fang appearing with his smile. 

    “Name’s Remy, Remy LeBeau.” He holds his hand out for a handshake, which you take with a smile. “Pretty girl like you gotta name?” You can’t help but giggle a little, and tell him your name, butterflies in your stomach with the way he’s looking at you.

    “Nice to meet you, officially.” You say, and he cocks an eyebrow at you with that signature smirk of his. “I mean- like, I feel like I’ve been seeing you everywhere tonight! Not in a creepy way or anything, I just…” You take your hand back from him, covering your face in embarrassment as you apologize again with a sigh. God, why were you so awkward? You drop your hands into your lap as Remy begins to laugh, with you blushing furiously in a way you pray you can blame on the alcohol. 

    “ s’ good to know I make a lasting impression,” Remy says, and it’s charming enough to make you crack another smile. 

    “I promise I’m not normally this strange. It’s been a bit of a night.” The words come out like a sigh, and you glance over where the “stressors” of the night had run off to, strangely thankful when you can't see them through the crowd. You feel like your heart skips a beat when you look back over at Remy, with a smile on his face and a fondness in his eyes you feel like might be a little too friendly for someone you just met.

    “I don’t mind, Cher. You’ll find that I like strange.” He replies, sending you a wink. You let out a short laugh, cocking an eyebrow at him.

    “You know what? I believe you.” You say, all Remy does is smile wider. You glance at him again, looking at him from head to toe as you take in his appearance up close. You can’t really tell if he’s wearing a costume, or if he had just stuck on some vampire teeth and called it a night. Either way, he looks good, and you really do not want to make a further fool of yourself. 

    “What led you here, anyway? Costume catch your eye?” You flirt, hoping you don’t come off as nervous as you are- not really one to flirt with handsome strangers. But hey! When the opportunity presents itself… Remy raises his eyebrows, interested. 

    “Sure, Somethin' like that.”

    You and Remy talk for a really, really long time. From the outside looking in, just about anyone would presume you were a couple with the easy-flowing conversation and back-and-forth flirting. You just clicked! It was so easy for your nerves to wash away, and for a long moment, all of your anxieties about the night were long forgotten. One of the two of you had scooted closer in the duration of your flirt-fest, not that you really noticed while caught up in his words and charismatic smile- your sides being pressed together and his hand resting behind you. He’s close enough to lean in and kiss you, and honestly, you certainly wouldn’t mind if he did.

    “So you want my number then?” The words are admittedly cocky, but damn did this guy make you feel so confident in your own skin.

    “You hear me say I didn’t?” Remy replies, cocking his head at you. You can't help but laugh, smiling like some cheesy idiot.

    “Do you flirt like this with every girl?”

    “Jus’ the ones I like.”

    You really hadn’t noticed how long the two of you had been sitting together, an hour? Maybe an hour and a half? Your phone had been long forgotten, and you weren’t really planning to check it either until you heard a giddy squeal from your right. Both you and Remy look over to the noise, only to see the girls, without their clique from before and presumably done with all of their roaming at the moment.

    “Hey girlie! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Ashley says, drawing you into an awkward side hug that you don’t return, confused.

    “I told you where I’d be?” She brushes you off, locking eyes with Remy for just long enough for her eyebrows to raise and a glint to light up in her eyes. 

    “Who’s this?” You don’t have time to answer before Sophie is in front of you, taking your hands and dragging you to your feet.

    “Come get food with us!! We need an excuse to sober up, and we’re not doing it without you, bestie!”  Both of them are being a little more friendly than normal, and it's enough to make you a little suspicious. But, food did sound pretty nice at the moment. You look back at Remy with a sheepish smile, and you find that he’s already looking at you. 

    “ S’ alright, Cher. I’m a patient man.” He gives you a reassuring smile, and you relax a little more, unable to keep yourself from smiling as butterflies light up in your stomach. The girls drag you away pretty much immediately, talking about some afterparty or whatnot, but all you can think of the entire time is the implications of that statement.

    “Where’d you find a man like that?” Sophie’s voice finally catches your attention while in line for the carnival food, and you give her a questioning look.

    “Sorry?” You ask, and both of them giggle in that way that just seems to set alarms off in your head.

    “I’m serious! Almost every guy we’ve seen tonight has been like, a seven. That one is literally a ten.” Sophie giggles again, sending Ashley a knowing look. You blush a little, thinking about Remy again, but there’s just something about this conversation that’s making you uncomfortable.

    “Well, I didn’t exactly find him. He approached me.” You admit, shrugging your shoulders. The girls exchange skeptical looks, before laughing again.

    “Really?” Ashley asks this time, a wolfish smile on her face. It’s rhetorical- and feels just plain bitchy. Your face screws up, and you think about confronting her, but they quickly and ignorantly delve into a separate conversation, and you reluctantly decide to let it go. What the fuck was up with them? You don’t fall into conversation with them for a minute as you try to collect yourself, knowing you’d rather ride home with them than pay for a separate Uber. And starting a fight was definitely not going to work in your favor, seeing as they were your neighbors. They had a pack mentality like no other, and after tonight you’d much rather be able to ignore them forever instead of having a neiborly feud. 

    Eventually, you do decide to join the conversation. The line for food was ridiculously fucking long, and although it was moving, you still felt so impatient. Your phone is dying, and you’d really rather save your battery for Remy’s number and the ride home- so you talk and hope for the best. Eventually, Ashley says she needs to go to the bathroom and hands her wallet to Sophie before she stalks off. She’s gone for a while. A really long while. As you’re finally inching your way to the end of the line, Sophie tells you she’s going to find her. You actually welcome the peace and quiet, and promise to hold the spot. 4th in line. 3rd. 2nd. You’re starting to get anxious by the fact that neither of them had returned, but you get to the end and they’re still not back. 

    You buy a funnel cake for yourself, almost worried about the two as you walk back to the hay bale where you left Remy. The crowd finally starts to clear a bit, and when the Hay bale is finally in sight, you actually assume that you were looking at the wrong spot for a minute- until you recognize the costumes, and then spot the brunette they are both latched onto.

    Ashley is in his space, her costume unzipped just enough for anyone walking past to get a view. Sophie is leaning across his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair and twirling the ends with manicured fingers You can’t see his face- but it didn’t really matter anyway. 

    You don’t mean to drop the funnel cake, but you do. There's a shot of ice through your veins when it clicks for you, finally, as you watch them from a distance- it was a ploy. A stupid fucking ploy. You were the ugly friend- If they could even call you that. You were invited to make them look better. The matching costumes, the conspiring looks, the whole thing about Remy. Jesus Christ, had you always been this blind? Your face is warm with humiliation, eyes watering as you desperately try not to cry.

    Remy had nothing to do with it- of course, he didn’t, you just met him, but as you look at the two draped over him… You just feel like you can’t really compare. You know better. You do- but god, did it hurt. You don’t want to go over there for them to make fun of you again, and you sure as hell don’t want to feel the sting of rejection that will inevitably come when he ditches you for them. Before you know it, your feet are moving. You’re not thinking clearly- hardly thinking at all. You see a side entrance, or maybe a fire exit, not that you really care. You can’t read anything through your tears, closing the door behind you and plugging yourself into darkness as it clicks shut.

    Inside, you find a mirror maze- again, what was with all of the fucking mazes? The overhead lights are off, what little light that’s coming from the outside dimly reflecting through each and every silvery mirror. It’s completely abandoned, with not a single soul in sight. You step over some shattered glass as you make your way further into the maze, and understand it was probably because drunks and mirrors don’t mix. 

    You find a dead end in the maze, and it’s like your legs give out. You can't help but just sit on the ground and sob for a minute. The backs of your hands are stained with the mascara that you’re sure is streaking down your face. You feel like an idiot- stupid, dramatic, pathetic. And you looked it, too. Every mirror reflects the mess of what you have become until you can’t stand to look at yourself anymore, pulling your knees to your chest and tucking your head into your arms.

    It's a quiet reprieve. You sit for a minute, long after your tears have dried. Your breathing begins to return to normal as the humiliation really starts to settle in. You’re so tired, and exhausted, and find yourself wishing you had never come out tonight at all, visioning your comfy bed that waits for you at home. 

    “Pauvre ti bête. Looks like you need new friends, Cher.” The sound of the voice makes you flinch, the daylight scared out of you as a dark figure sits down by your side.    “Remy?” You wipe at your face again, knowing it was to no avail, and that the damage to your makeup had already been done. 

    “The one an’ only,” He replies. It’s hard to see him in the low lighting, but it’s not like you’re looking around much anyway. There’s a silence between you two, and your gaze is locked on the floor, refusing to look at him with your stupid pout and tear-stained face.

    “Sat for a while, waitin’ on you.” He says, after a long moment, and it makes you feel so much fucking worse. You curl into yourself a little more.

    “Sorry, I just… I dunno, I thought you looked busy.” The words are more of a whisper than anything, and he chuffs something that’s not quite a laugh in response.

    “I guess you could say that.” He hums, leaning back on his hands as you finally turn to look at him. “Hadda swat those girls like damn mosquitos to get 'em off. Felt like they were tryna swallow me whole.” You can’t help but laugh at that, rubbing your eyes a bit.

    “...Trust me, they were probably trying to swallow something.” The words are out of your mouth before your brain can really catch up. Remy laughs a full laugh, smiling brightly at you now that you’ve started to come back out of your shell once again. 

    “Sorry, that was crude.”

    “Sounded pretty funny to me,” Remy’s grin is contagious, not that you ever would complain. You roll your eyes at him with that big smile on your face, leaning your head against the mirror behind you.

    “I guess I can’t really blame them, either.” You mumble, eyes going wide once you realize that that was most definitely not supposed to leave your lips. “God damn, I really have lost my filter!” Remy begins to laugh again as you cover your face, flushed with embarrassment. He doesn’t seem to mind the comment at all. Pulling your hands away as he struggles to contain his laughter. 

    “I like you, y’know that?” He says, and it makes you smile. You sit in comfortable silence for a bit, and before you know it, you find yourself leaning on his shoulder, eyes closed. Your thoughts slowly begin to wander. Remy’s very sweet, and the fact that he still came looking for you despite everything… It meant a lot. You can only imagine how uncomfortable he had been with Ashley and Sophie hanging off of him, waiting, wondering where you had gone. If he notices as your smile slowly becomes a frown, he doesn’t say anything. 

    “I’m sorry I left you out there.” You say quietly, breaking the silence that had become so uncomfortable for you. “I hadn’t realized they invited me to be the “ugly” friend until right then and I just needed to get away from it all.” There’s a featherlight brush of skin against your cheek, and when you open your eyes, Remy pushes a few strands of hair out of your face, thumb lingering against your skin. You find yourself caught up in his piercing gaze. It’s almost like he’s looking into your soul.

    “Pretty dumb choice to invite you if they were looking for an ugly friend.” His voice is low, and his cool hand feels nice against your flushed skin. You can’t drag your eyes away from his, gazes locked together as the tension only grows- thick enough to cut with a knife and choke you as you breathe it in. It’s he who breaks the eye contact first, stunning red irises flickering down to your lips and back up again. 

    “Really,” You ask, but it’s less of a question and more like a filler, mind unable to provide anything other than that. You’re caught up in that little action of his, swallowing, unable to look away from him. Suddenly, you realize just how close he really is.

    “Mais oui,” He mumbles, close enough for you to feel the slight breath that comes with the words. His thumb and finger prop up your chin, but he moves no closer, waiting for you. It’s hardly a debate for you to decide to brush your lips against his own.

    It’s like fireworks explode behind your eyelids when the space between you closes, his lips melding against you perfectly. It’s soft and sweet. Gentle for a man as much of a flirt as he appeared to be. He kisses you a few times, just like that, until the kiss starts to develop into something a little more heated. He turns to face you a little better, the sharp fangs in his mouth grazing your bottom lip as he leans over you and licks at the seam of your lips- which you eagerly open for him. Fuck, he was a good kisser. 

    Before long, you’re leaning back on your palms, and one of Remy’s knees presses between your thighs. Your elbows buckle just a little, and he’s quick to catch you. One of his hands is on the small of your back as he keeps you propped up, the other one flat against the floor as he keeps both of you from falling. He nips at your lip- the tip of his canine just barely splitting the skin before he kisses away your yelp, licking the blood away just as quickly as it had appeared. As embarrassing as it was, the action alone was enough to get the attention of heat slowly building in your abdomen. His kisses trail from your lips down to your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. 

    Your eyes slowly open, half-lidded as you weave your fingers through his hair, tongue softly licking at the stinging soreness of that bottom lip of yours. He’s not as aggressive with the rest of you, kissing and sucking dark spots into you as the sharp canines only drag and graze. Your eyes wander to a mirror across from you- one just barely lit from what you were sure was a hole in the roof- the full moon lining up just perfectly enough to light the mirrored room.

    It takes a second for you to recognize what you see in the mirror.

    You see yourself. Just yourself, leaned over as if you were hovering, neck exposed with purple marks blooming mysteriously across your skin. It’s you. Just you. Only you.

    A gasp is ripped out of your throat, and if the way your spine goes rigid wasn’t enough to alert Remy, it was the fast, pounding beat of your heart. Your eyes are glued to that image reflected in the mirror, even as Remy removes himself from your neck and finds himself staring at that same image. He stiffens, an unreadable look on his face before he recovers with an amused hum. 

    “Well, Don’t we make a lovely couple?” He muses. And when you finally look back at him, his strange eyes and sharp fangs, you realize exactly what he is. A wave of familiarity washes over you again, but you can’t place it as the horror begins to wash over you. 

    “Oh my god.” You breathe, almost stuck in disbelief. This could not be real, could it? That smirk of his makes yet another appearance, and yet something feels off about it. Deceptive, almost. It does not reach his eyes.

    “What, you afraid?” He asks with a chuckle. You wonder for a moment about the situation you had put yourself into, held in the arms of what could only be a vampire. All you can do is look at him, wide-eyed. If stories were to be believed, he’d be caging you in his arms, holding you in an iron grip before he strikes- bleeding you dry without care… 

    But he’s not. Yes, he was holding you up, but the arm around you is loose. His body language is open- and you get the feeling that if you tried to make a run for it, he’d let you. He’s not vicious. He’s not snapping at you or pinning you down. Hell, he had the chance to bite you earlier while you were pliant and eager, and he didn’t. 

    “...I don’t actually know, right now.” You finally respond, and something shifts. His breath catches in his throat, and the barest glimpse of vulnerability is gone within a second as he leans back a little, giving you a chance to sit up a bit more. You do so hesitantly.

    “I’m not here to hurt you, Cher. Just wanted to give you a proper thank you.” He rumbles. He takes one of your hands, lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss to your knuckles, gaze never leaving your own. Black, red, black. Where had you seen that before?

    “Proper… what?” You furrow your eyebrows, trying your damndest to make sense of it all. Black, red, black. Black, red, black. Sharp teeth. Vampires, bats, Vampire bats. Vampire bat. Vampire bat. For the second time tonight, it all clicks for you. 

    “Holy shit. You-? The bat?-” You feel like you’re at a loss for words. Remy smiles again, fangs catching the low light of the mirrored room.

    “That’d be me.” He admits, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “ ‘Thought I was done for until you showed up. Most vamps like that? They don’t make it inside ‘fore the sun comes up.” He chuckles, but the seriousness of the situation is not lost on you. Saving the life of an immortal being rather than the life of a small bat is something huge, it felt like it, at least. 

    “Did you follow me here? Is that why I kept seeing you around tonight?” You ask. Remy simply shrugs his shoulders, letting your fingers go as he inches forward, looming over you once again. 

    “Think of it as more of a happy accident.” Remy sets his arms on either side of you, leaning close enough for his nose to gently brush against yours. You think he’s going to kiss you as his hand comes up to cup your chin. Instead, Remy runs his thumb across your lower lip, which you hadn’t even realized had started to bleed again. He brings the thumb to his mouth, licking the smear of blood. The sight is seductive. Arousing. You find yourself staring at his lips, conflicted. He sets his forehead against your own, hovering over your lips. There’s a heated look in his eyes when you look back up at them.

    “Tell me to leave, Cher, And I’ll go.” You swallow as he says the words, a flutter in your chest and a growing warmth within you. You bite your lower lip, your hesitance quickly being overshadowed by want.

    “... You're not gonna suck my blood or anything?” You ask, lips beginning to brush against his own. He chuckles, and this time he’s close enough for you to feel the sound as it rumbles through his chest.

    “Not unless you want me to…” He’s teasing you now, making you chase his lips until he’s fully sure you really want this, and you do. When they finally meet, his lips press against yours just as spectacularly as they did the first time. One of his hands snakes around the back of your neck, shielding the lower part of your head as he lowers you to the floor. You find yourself lost in his kisses, thinking of only him and the way he treats you so gently. 

    He props himself up with one strong arm, the other cupping the side of your face rather reverently, his thumb stroking across your cheekbone. Your hands can’t help but wander up and down his torso, feeling the muscle beneath his shirt. You feel him smile against your lips as you do, kissing at the corner of your mouth, and then your jaw, before the fluttery movement traces a path over each and every discolored spot on your neck, kissing the marks he had given you not even twenty minutes earlier. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair as the kisses venture further. His cold face presses into your open cleavage, an open palm dragging up from your thigh and sliding beneath your top, softly squeezing the bare skin of your waist. You find yourself arching into his touch, eager for his soft caress. 

    You have goosebumps down your chest as his fangs graze the skin, his fingers hooking around the neckline of your shirt and the bra underneath it from the inside. The cool air hits your bare breasts as he tugs it down, your nipples pebbling at the frigid draft. Your breath hitches at the feeling as his lips venture down your sternum, his free hand moving out from under the fabric to palm and toy with one breast as he begins to tease the other. He chuckles at you when you let out a whine, fingers tugging on his locks.

    “Have a little patience, Cher.” There’s a seductive lure to his voice as Remy tells you to have a little faith in him, pressing one last kiss to the swell of one said breast as he moves back up. He easily draws you into another long, heated kiss. He continues to play with the breast in his hand, pinching and testing the supple give of the skin. Your muffled whines and moans are music to his ears as he presses his knee against your heated core, only relenting with his playful touches when he slides his palm under your spine, forcing you to arch your back. He lets go of your lips to drag his attention back to your breast, now sucking at the stiff peaks, careful of his sharp teeth. 

    “Remy,” His name comes out inadvertently, the sound making him groan against you. Your hands have slid down from their hold on his scalp, now resting against his wide shoulders with a tight grip on the fabric of his shirt. His palm wanders up and down the expanse of your back, thriving off of the feeling of your hot, flushed skin against his cold body. 

    The feeling of your top being bunched around your waist starts to become uncomfortable and suffocating. You squirm to try and take it off yourself, but Remy is quick to stop you. He pulls it off of you slowly, kissing every inch of skin it drags against as it goes. Once it's off, he leans back to get a good look at you, cursing under his breath as his hands find your thighs. You know for a fact you’re flushed and red from the neck down. The sight only encourages Remy further, quickly sitting up and removing his own shirt, keeping his gaze on yours throughout the movement. 

    It’s not surprising when his upper body catches your attention, the lean muscle impressive for a man who’s basically dead. Or was he? When he’s back within reach, you run your right hand from his happy trail till you reach his collarbone, fingertips pressing into the cold skin as you try to feel for a pulse. He hums, a mischievous glint in his eye when he realizes what you’re doing. 

    “You won’t find a heartbeat, cher. Not from me.” Remy confirms your thoughts. You can only hum in response, leaning up to press a soft kiss where your hand had been, over his heart. Remy lets out a low groan at the action, inciting a slow grind of his hips against yours.

    “Merde.” He mumbles.“You play a dangerous game, makin’ a dead heart flutter.” 

    “Do I really?” You ask, biting your lip. Remy leans in, just far enough to teasingly brush his lips against your own before he moves down the length of your neck, never touching you in the way to crave so badly. 

    “I get the feeling you like dangerous games.” There's something sharp against your neck, the tips of his fangs gently dragging across the skin. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but not out of fear. He grinds his hips into you once again, your hips eagerly bucking to meet his own. You swallow deeply at the sound he makes at the action- realizing that you just might want him to bite into you. It’s crazy. You feel crazy. It must be so tantalizing for him to be pressed against you like this, fully aware of the red-hot blood rushing through your veins and the constant pounding of your heart. And yet, he never takes the bait. 

    Remy’s lips meet your own again right as your hands meet the buckle of his jeans. He sighs against your lips as you undo it, sliding your hand underneath the stiff fabric to feel the hardness he hides underneath. He’s… big. Not necessarily long, but he’s thicker than you had expected him to be. You stroke him over the fabric of his boxers, feeling his length twitch under your touch. When he separates from the kiss, he tucks his head into your shoulder. You can’t help but giggle at the action as you begin to pull both garments down, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen once freed. 

    “Are you sensitive, Remy?” You ask him, turning your head to bury it in his hair. You wrap your hand around his cock, hearing him moan before cursing quietly when you give him a slight squeeze. 

    “Sometimes.” He mumbles, one of his calloused hands coming up to one of your breasts, gently rubbing his thumb over your nipple to encourage it to a stiff peak. You can’t help but let out a surprised moan as he pinches and teases, feeling his smile against the skin of your shoulder. 

    “But I got nothin’ on you.” Remy kisses your breast, before taking a long, slow lick across the sensitive skin. He takes the nub into his mouth, giving it a short suck before he lets go of it with a pop. 

    You almost want to whine and complain when Remy removes himself from you, but quickly lose the thought as you watch him remove his pants and boxers in one movment. Once he’s done, he slowly slides his hands from your ankles to your hips, hooking his fingers underneath the fabric of your bottoms. He kisses the space beneath your belly button, red eyes trained on your own as he slowly drags the clothing down, undressing you until you’re bare. He licks his lips at the sight of you, slowly spreading your legs as he begins to kiss from your knees to your…

    “You don’t- you don’t have to do that.” You stutter out once you realize what he’s doing. You’ve never been eaten out before, and the sight of him between your legs has already got you flushed and nervous- embarresed, even. Remy’s eyes shift back up to your face, his fingers sliding between your admittedly slick folds as you try to hold back a moan.

    “Vampires are creatures of desire, cher. Thirsty ones at that.” He rumbles, and it’s like everywhere he touches you is on fire, his cool hands stroking you into a lustful heat. “Should I beg for you to consider?” He’s got this knowing look on his face, watching you as you bite your lip, face twitching with pleasure every time those fingers of his graze your clit. He slides a finger into you without resistance, curling it just right. You buck your hips into the feeling, nodding vigorously as a final go-ahead. 

    Remy dives into your cunt like a man starved. 

    Every lick of his tongue and curl of his fingers has you seeing stars. Fuck, did it feel good. He touches you expertly, finding spots within you that you didn't even know you had. He lets a moan slip now and then, fully immersed in the warm wetness of your pussy. 

    Your legs are hooked over his shoulders, a hand splayed across your lower abdomen to keep you from bucking up into his mouth as he enjoys himself. You feel close to cumming embarrassingly quick- quick in a way you had never known yourself to even be capable of.

    “Remy!” It's an urgent call of his name, your hands tangling themselves in his hair as you attempt to warn him. He hums in response, right over your clit, and it does nothing but push your body further. You come with a rather embarrassing noise, hips twitching and thighs pressing into the side of his head. You can't help but assume that not needing to breathe was only a bonus for the man currently suffocating between your pillowy thighs. 

    He lets you ride out your orgasm with enthusiasm, pressing sweet kisses to the skin around your sensitive cunt as your breathing begins to even out and your legs begin to relax around him. 

    He looks absolutely wrecked when he sits up. His hair is messy, a pussydrunk smile he's certainly not afraid to hide spreading across his face. 

    “You feelin’ alright, cher?” He asks. You eagerly nod in response, leaning into his touch when he crawls back over you to place a kiss against your lips. You've never been one to taste yourself, but you find that you don’t mind tasting it on his lips. Remy's cock begins a slow grind against you, grazing your clit with every stroke. You moan into the kiss, a string of spit between your mouths when you separate long enough to catch your breath.

    “Fuck.” The word is whispered, but that doesn't stop Remy from catching it. He lets out a low laugh, collecting your wetness as he grinds. 

    “You ready for me?” He asks. You nodd, closing your eyes as you eagerly wait for the stretch of his cock. Exempt, he stops.

    “I need you to give me a yes, cher.”

    “Yes-” He swallows the rest of that word in an eager kiss, finally sliding into your heat inch by inch. You both moan in union, feeling every inch of that slow stretch. He's cold. Not freezing, but cold. It's unlike any feeling you've felt before, and surprisingly, you want more of it.

    His body begins to warm a little more everywhere the two of you touch- and god, does it feel good. Remy favors a steady pace, with powerful thrusts that hit you right every single time. It felt like he was made for you, and he most definitely felt the same. Remy kisses you like a man in love, fucking you in a way that makes you see rings instead of stars. 

    Every smack of his hips against yours is rather careful, measured even. It's only when he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach like a ragdoll that you realize the kind of strength he holds- suddenly grateful for his caution. He's quick to go back to rearranging your insides once he has you on your knees, front pressed against your back as he kisses at the nape of your neck and slides his arm around your front, palm splayed under a boob with his thumb on the valley between.

    “Look at us, love.” His chest rumbles against your back, and it's not even a whole minute before the position changes again, Remy pulling you against him as he sits up onto his knees, holding you steady as he makes you face the mirror. 

    You wish that you could see his reflection in that mirror as you gaze upon the sight of you, red face flushed and needy. You don't see the way he holds you pressed so tightly against his chest, or the way he admires that evocative image of you, shaking with each thrust. 

    “Aren't you a sight, bele.” His breath is cold against your ear, his hand coming down to circle your clit as his thrusts pick up in pace. You can tell he's close, reaching that peak just as fast as you reach your own. You grasp at his hands, moans and whine only getting louder as that pleasure gets ever-so-close.

    His groan against your ear is unnecessarily hot, his thrusts stuttering right before he pulls out of you. His cock rests just below your lower lips, using the friction of your thighs as he reaches that high. He cums in thick streaks, your own release following directly after.

    There's a buzzing sound right as Remy sits back, placing you in his lap as he kisses across your shoulders sweetly. You relax against him, boneless as you both try to catch your breath. The buzzing stops for a moment before it continues again. You hardly register the noise, and are certainly in no condition to try and find the source.

    When Remy looks over to the sound, he finds your phone hiding beneath the scattered clothes on the floor. It's his shirt, and he reaches over to grab it. The phone is set to the side as he maneuvers you around, dressing you in his shirt like a gentleman.

    “Cher?” You hum, only halfway aware at the moment as Remy calls your name. He hands you your phone, and you open your eyes just enough to unlock it and see the fifteen missed calls from Ashley and Sophie. 

    “God damnit. Can't I have any peace?” You curse. Remy laughs, watching from over your shoulder as you check the additional excessive Snapchat messages from them. 

    “Maybe we should send them a message, no?” Remy reaches over to your phone, swiping over to the Snapchat camera, angling it to where both of your sweaty, disheveled faces are inframe, along with the line of purple hickies that trail down your neck. Jesus christ, you were about to fuck him all over again for even suggesting this. Who knew you were into revenge like that?

    “Oh fuck yes.”

[cheralith]

— touch.

part two from this drabble feat ; childhood bestfriend!kaiser x reader | word count ; 1.9k contains ; gn!reader, no pronouns used, pining, fluff, making out (suggestive), not edited as of 1/19/2025 a/n ; recommended song link in the title! i think it quite fits the mood of the fic from kaiser's pov, so i highly suggest to listen to it (๑ >؂•̀๑)

you don't understand how you ended up in this predicament.

one minute you and kaiser were bickering about the plot of the movie and whether it was good or not, the next being you and him mirroring the scene that unfolds the characters' first kiss scene from the screen.

the two characters share a soft, yet passionate kiss, with the male lead holding his partner's oh so gently in his palms to guide each other in the flowing movements of a kiss. the kiss is brief, just lasting only a few seconds before they break apart and smile softly at each other before giggling.

but the moment that lies itself in front of you right now and your childhood friend is lasting so much longer than just a few mere seconds. you think five minutes at least has gone by as you and him stare at each other, just waiting for the other person to make a move. never mind the fact that kaiser had promptly stated from his own lips, "then let me show you a proper one." when you mentioned that your first kiss went awry, because it seems as though he's waiting for you to signal him away to do anything.

kaiser's hand to rest on your cheek in a ghostly manner, where his body heat is touching your skin, but his fingertips feather against it, almost as if he'll be burned if he goes any further. you can see his fingers retract for a minute when you flicker your eyes at them, but you give him a look of reassurance as you look back into those deep, royal blue eyes of his that seem to emulate a foreign hesitance.

strange, you think, you've never thought of kaiser to have such a disposition that plagues many.

but it's there. by the slight pinch in his brow, you can tell that he's nervous. you are too—how can you and him not be? while some may dismiss a kiss a simplistic act, you're wise enough to know that a kiss between the neighborhood boy you've grown up with, lost touch, and eventually reconnected with again by chance, is not just going to be some ordinary, apt kiss that lets the seconds go by and disappear so loosely.

in your mind, you know this is not the best idea to take, especially knowing your current attitudes towards the boy that sits idly in front of you, his sharp eyes analyzing every little movement you take. you and him are friends, just friends. you understand that this could just be one of those fleeting kisses that people mindlessly give each other—ones that get up and go as soon as possible.

but your heart says different. your heart says that in no possibility, in no universe where your lives are intertwined, can this kiss be one of those fleeting kisses. there was no singular possibility in which you can deem whatever kaiser is about to give you as simple.

in your younger days, he used to smell of faint beer and ink from the newspapers he slept on, but in the proximity, he now smells of cotton and his cologne—a quiet osmanthus and patchouli mix. fresh and ripened, like a fruit. his eyes are clearer than they were when you were children, showing the fullness of his irises and the true blue that held deep within them. the malice and mischief from his younger days is still there, but there's also resolve, resilience, and resistance in the mix of azure and cerulean.

kaiser furrows his brows as you stare into his eyes. he opens his mouth to say something, which captures your attention, before he closes it, the words he didn't know how to say properly tumbling in his mouth. he doesn't know what to do; he curses himself for being too overly confident in a matter he doubt he can handle.

he's never held hands with anyone romantically, let alone kiss someone. the most experience he's had is witnessing others do the deed, but his lips have yet to even murmur the three words that are usually given in the connotation of a kiss. how on earth is he supposed to gain control of a situation that was out of his bounds.

kaiser's hand goes to lift itself from your cheek, his mind attempting to create a poor excuse for the tense moment, but his words falter again when your own hand wraps around his tattooed wrist and gently put it back to your heated cheeks.

you're giving him permission. you're granting him the permission to let him do as he will with your lips without even saying anything from your own. your eyes that gaze at the vines that scatter about his arm flicker back to his own, a wisp of yearning in them.

kaiser attempts to remember the specific movements the characters did on screen but a flurry of thoughts suddenly race through his mind in a haste. one person's lips envelope another and they kind of... suck on each other's mouths? is that how it goes? or is it more of just pressing your own onto the other person's? how far do you go? do you have to put that much force into it or was everyone just being dramatic? what about the teeth? you don’t use teeth while you’re kissing right? that’s ridiculous—or do you? never mind he brushed his teeth a few minutes ago, does his breath smell? does HE smell? what is he doing again???

“micha?”

your soft voice saying his nickname that you tend to use sparingly breaks him out of his thoughts. he twitches, blinking bleakly before looking into your eyes again.

oh how he loves it when you say his nickname, so gentle and sweet. there’s a touch of affection when you say it especially in regards to how you know how he hates his first, full name, a label given to the human beings that gave him the bare minimum of a name when he was born and thought it was enough. “micha” was a person specifically reserved for you, however, born from when you were children bouncing about on a playground.

“micha! can you push me on the swings?”

“kaiser” is the front image that everyone knows about and that everyone sees—a man with prodigious ruggedness in his actions. “michael” is the ghost that haunts him and him only, and is the weak, darkened side of him he keeps hidden—a side of him that rots and decays by the minute.

… but “micha”…

“micha” is the side of kaiser he never knew existed until you came about and that only you are aware of. still a little rough around the edges, but the majority of “kaiser”’s guard is down whenever you’re around him to unsheathe a more delicate and vulnerable version of himself. an image that yearns for and is capable of love and loving. a person whose passion and desire unfurls itself at the sight of not soccer, but rather another heart of another human. kaiser yearned to be loved and cherish like a gift given on christmas, and despite being born into the world as one on the day of, he had everything but.

until he met you.

which is why kaiser’s nerves tremble so harshly inside his body as his hand starts to move on his own and brings you closer inch by inch, with every closing distance making his lungs hitch. this is his first kiss, he realizes suddenly, and it’s with you. and personally, despite all the apprehension that fills his body as he feels your body heat nearing his skin, he’s so relieved to have his with you.

eyes now moving to stare at the blush pink lips before you, your lids close halfway as kaiser moves forward, until they shut gently when you feel warm lips on your own.

like violent waves taming themselves against the water as the moon rises, all his nerves suddenly smooth themselves when he feels the plushness of your bottom lip between his own and how you don’t back away as kaiser secures himself snugly close to you. his hand that cups your cheek secures itself and he goes to further feel your lips against his as he adjusts head to yours.

a steady rhythm synchronizes itself between you and him. with every beat, you break apart from each other ever so slightly just before conjoining again, kisses exchanging themselves lips to lips. he switches every so often from your bottom lip to your top, attempting to experience this in all directions possible in full. it’s not long before a heat thickens around you and him and kaiser finds himself gently sucking at your bottom lip in an attempt to stay close to you before his air runs out from his lungs and he breaks apart from you, a thin string of saliva bridging you and him when he goes to rest his forehead on yours.

you want to say something, but kaiser beats you to it by kissing you again in depth, his hand now skittering to your neck and pulling you in closer as his breath exchanges with yours. hands resting on his shoulders for support, it doesn’t take long until he repositions you to be on his lap, his other hand now resting on the small of your back to hold you impossibly close.

stay close to me… he thinks. kiss me more… harder, even. i want to feel your heartbeat against mine…

what a feeling! kaiser understands why people in movies kiss for such a lengthy period of time, because the adrenaline rush he receives in turn is exhilarating. your so soft… so plush… not just your lips but your skin as well. the hushed smacking of lips dizzies his brain with a rush he’s never experienced before. his mind nearly falters on itself when he just barely picks up on a whimpered “micha…” stuttered between the kiss.

he pressed harder against your lips when he hears it, letting out a quiet grunt as he pulls you in so close that he’s sure your skins would meld together at any given moment. a gasp escapes you when your tongue gets tangled with his ever so lightly, as if he’s testing the waters to see how far can he have his way with you. you break open your eyes slightly to see his reaction, but he’s much too focused on taking you in within himself to notice your muffled shock, and you falter by letting him dance around inside your lips, clearly hungry.

seconds turn to minutes, and mere minutes seem to turn into hours as you and him cradle each other within your grasps, your lips molting into the others’ to a beat you and kaiser can only decipher amidst his apartment bedroom.

so when you finally, finally break for air, you’re surprised only four minutes has gone by when you glance at his alarm clock. irritated at how fast your attention breaks from him, kaiser’s hand goes to redirect your focus on him and him alone, his flushed face and kiss-bitten lips and half-lidded gaze bustling itself into a mild impatience—as if every second without his lips on yours is a second wasted. the night is still young after all.

“hey,” he states, his voice a little hoarse. “now that is how you’re supposed to kiss.”

his blown-out pupils swim against the deep blue tide of his eyes as they glance down at your swollen lips again, a smirk threatening to frame itself on his face.

“or do you perhaps need another demonstration?”

[hemlock-dreams]

Hypothetically, if you were going to write hunting!spider as a fic, how would you do it? Like, where would the story start—with Peter as the bartender, or his backstory? Would you flash back to his old universe?

-🕊️

Like this: ITS A FIC NOW!!

Check is out: Here!

Peter hasn’t worn the suit since here got here. He hasn’t done much in the last two months of his new existence beyond haunting New York like a phantom, trying to figure out who he is and where he stands in a reality that hasn’t been unfortunate enough to have a Peter Parker in the first place.

Or a Spiderman.

Strange hadn’t been kidding about the magic. Peter feels like the victim of his own hubris, asking for a clean start, a world where no one knew him. He’d asked and he’d been delivered.

Almost. 

The world is there, technically, but it’s like looking at a painting he’s seen a thousand times, only to realize the details are off. It’s the phones with the home button on the bottom, the different slang, the green money, all his favorite songs with wildly different lyrics, so many painful differences- a slow death by a thousand cuts.

Peter thought it would be easier, like a new beginning stretching out ahead of him, the sea-breeze smell of a fresh start after stepping out of Ryker’s. 

But Uncle Ben isn’t waiting for him at the docks this time. Nothing is waiting except the uncanny arms of a city that used to know him. Like running into an ex after years apart, recognizing the same general shape, but being strangers all the same.

Damn it. He should have asked Strange to take his memories too.

At least then Peter would know what to do with himself instead of haunting Brooklyn at night like a ghost, fighting the cognitive dissonance of taking turns he used to know like the back of his hand, only to be startled when they lead into dead-ends or open out into streets that shouldn’t exist.

That’s why he hasn’t worn the suit. Because forget being Spiderman, who the hell is Peter, here?

His melancholy is interrupted by a woman’s voice, faint if not for Peter’s enhanced senses.

“Listen, you’re a sweet guy, but I don’t like mixing work and my personal life.” The voice is extra sweet in the way women get when trying to talk themselves out of a dangerous situation.

No matter the lifetime, Peter can’t ignore that.

So he changes course, beelining towards the source with silence that’s more instinct than experience. He sticks to the shadows, easily avoiding the few flickering streetlights between him and the alleyway. His night vision pierces the darkness, tracing down the detailed shape of the tall, lanky man cornering a woman in the middle of the alley. 

He’s leaning, off-balance, clearly drunk, and boxing her in with one leather-clad arm, “Come on, Scarlett. I been asking for your number for weeks. Just one date, give a guy a chance, huh?”

Well, it was comforting to know that no matter the timeline, scum remained scum. 

“Paul, you’re wasted.” The woman- Scarlett, is draped against the wall, seemingly at ease and deceptively loose-limbed, even as she fists a set of keys between her knuckles, “Why don’t we have this discussion somewhere a little nicer? There’s a cute cafe that’s open tomorrow-”

“Fuck that. It’s always one excuse after another with you,” The guy- Paul- snarls, swaying from one foot to the other. The frustration is a ticking bomb,  “Why are you bein’ such a fucking bitch?”

Like clockwork, the slurs come out, and a peaceful resolution is no longer an option.

Scarlett realizes it too, because the hum of anxiety lacing her syrupy-sweet tone finally bleeds into her body. Her muscles lock, visibly entering fight or flight. 

That’s Peter’s cue.

“Is there a problem?” Peter’s voice is like a knife in the dark, popping the bubble and making the two flinch.

“Who the fuck are you?” Paul sneers, face slack and ugly from drink. “The fuck you think you’re doing, butting in?”

Peter ignores him, glancing towards Scarlett, who flicks her eyes between them and the rest of the alleyway. Unfortunately, there’s only one entrance and he’s blocking it. Out of options, Scarlett plasters herself to the wall.

“This is between the lady and me.” Paul is still talking, stumbling towards Peter, “But I’m a nice guy, so I’m going to give you a chance to turn ‘round and walk away.”

“Generous, but I’ll have to decline.” Peter murmurs and crosses the distance, invading his space before the man can respond. The promise of violence always lights something in Peter’s stomach, but for all the man’s shit-talking, the fight, if it can even be called that, is pathetic. Paul is so drunk Peter can taste it in the air, and his spidersense doesn’t even bother kicking in as he dodges one wobbly punch after the other. 

He doesn’t bother dragging it out. It only takes one good fist to the gut to drop Paul to the ground, followed by one good kick to the chest to keep him there. The aftermath is anticlimactic, awkward silence punctuated only by the rattling wheeze of the unconscious man beneath him.

Even pulling his punches, Peter probably cracked his ribs. It would take more effort than he’s got to feel sorry, especially since Scarlett is still glued to the wall, eyes trained on him and practically vibrating with adrenaline.

Slowly, Peter creates some space, backing out of the alleyway so he’s not obstructing the exit. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah.” Her reply is curt and wary, but Peter isn’t offended. He knows what he looks like, looming in the dark with his ratty clothes and unkempt beard. Best thing he can do to convince her of her safety is to walk away. 

So he does just that, and he’s almost halfway down the block when he hears her behind him, clacking heels loudly in the chill night air, “Wait!”

Peter pauses, turning around. 

Scarlett stops a few meters away, clutching the strap of her gym bag over her chest. “Sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you.”

Under the streetlights, her face is striking. Her bright green eyes are smoky and sensual, with bold cheekbones and dark lips framed by wisps of red hair falling out of a messy bun. She’s exactly the type of woman Peter would fantasize about back in Rykers, the kind he would see on pinups in Marko’s cell- tall and feminine, with lean legs and a waist Peter could span with both hands. 

The resolute look on her face reminds him so much of M-

He shunts that thought as soon as it appears.

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter responds with a shrug. He’s not stupid enough to lecture a grown woman about walking the streets at night. “Was there something else?”

Scarlett chews on her lip, eyes flicking back to the alley before settling on Peter for a few long beats. Whatever she sees in him makes her sigh, and some of the tension leeches from her shoulders. “Feel like walking a girl to her job?” 

Peter is a little surprised, and he takes a second to consider, mostly so he doesn’t look threatening, then nods, “Where to?” 

“Maggies.” At his confused look, she raises a brow, “Saint Margaret’s?” 

Still not ringing a bell, “Is that a…church?” He doesn’t remember any Saint Margaret’s in his Brooklyn, and it just reinforces that fish-out-of-water feeling that’s been choking him for the past few months.

“A church, sure.” Scarlett snorts derisively, laughing under her breath. When Peter doesn’t join in, she shoots him a wide-eyed look, “Oh. You’re serious. It’s an dance bar”  

Walking at night makes more sense now. That, and the obvious stage name. “I don’t know where that is. I’m…kind of new in town.”

“I can see that,” She says, and the gold of her hoop earrings catches the light as she falls in step beside him. Peter keeps his strides short and even, staying in her line of vision as they walk. It doesn’t escape his notice that she’s still got her keys between her knuckles, though they’re no longer clutched in a tight fist, “What brought you to New York, Mr. Good Samaritan?”

“Peter.” He says. “I was looking for a fresh start and kind of washed up here,” Peter feels like he’s being called out on some lie, as if anyone glancing in his direction will peg that he doesn’t belong.

But Scarlet is just nodding, unawares, “Nice to meet you, Peter. And I get it. That's why I moved here, too. It might take a bit of time to get your bearings, but it's worth it when you do." They’re heading down the street, taking a turn on 81st that should have led into a main thoroughfare but doesn’t, instead turning into another little set of streets full of gated-off shops covered in graffiti. Even the gang signs don’t look the same. He tries not to think about it.

“I appreciate what you did,” Scarlett is saying, “Paul’s been a pushy bastard but I thought it was all drunk bravado, you know? I never believed he’d actually follow me. I’m glad you were there, but I’m sorry it had to end in violence.”

Resorting to violence is one of Peter’s favorite pastimes, but he’s absolutely not going to admit that out loud. Instead, he hums, tucking his hands into his stained hoodie, “Some people only listen when it's fists talking. Hopefully the lesson sticks.” Peter frowns, “You said he followed you, does that mean he knows where you live?”

Men like that tend to hold grudges. Especially if they've been had their head knocked around in an alleyway.

“Thank god, no.” She shudders next to him, gripping the strap of her bag a little tighter at the thought, “He caught me coming from my day job. I’ll have to tell Weasel to put him on the blacklist for the club though…and change my shift. Ugh.” 

Peter nods in sympathy. Shiting schedules between two jobs is going to be a nightmare. “Weasel?” 

“The owner of Maggie’s.” She clarifies.

“Your boss is named Weasel?” Yikes. Peter can’t imagine what kind of shit someone had to do to earn that nickname.

“Yeah.” She laughs, “But don’t let the name fool you, he’s weird but he’s decent. There are lots of other clubs in the area but Weas lets us have a bigger cut than most other places. Plus, we get to set our own rules.” 

They cut the street, avoiding some dark patches where the streetlights gave out.

“That’s good.” Peter agrees, “Otherwise this is a pretty sketchy walk for a small paycheck.”  

It really is a sketchy walk, and his spidersense pings at odd moments, though nothing comes out of it save the odd junkie that wanders out of the shadows.

“I’ve had worse,” Scarlett shrugs, finally tucking her keys back into her purse. The stiff line of her shoulders has completely melted away now that they’re in what Peter assumes is familiar territory. “This is nothing compared to my last job.” 

“Which was?” 

“Telemarketing.”

Peter would rather take his chances soloing Thanos. “Point taken.” 

“We’re almost there. Just down the road.” Scarlett points one long acrylic nail toward a looming brick building punctuating the street. Peter wouldn’t have given it a second thought if not for the single garish neon sign of a scantily dressed nun at the corner, directing his attention towards a nondescript door.

“Welcome to Saint Margaret’s School for Wayward Children,” Scarlett enunciates each word with an eyebrow waggle, grinning when Peter cracks a smile. “Finest entertainment this side of Brooklyn. Thanks for walking me.” 

Peter doesn’t doubt it, especially if Scarlett is where they set the bar for dancers. “No worries. Stay safe, yeah?” Then he turns, intending to keep walking until his head is empty.

Scarlett pauses with her hand on the door, “You’re not going to come in?” 

“Not really my scene.” A true statement, one that doesn’t have to acknowledge that Peter is capital-b Broke. Hard to get a proper-paying job when he doesn’t legally exist. He’s done a few gigs under the table, but the last few weeks have left Peter sleeping on empty rooftops with an emptier stomach. 

“Really? I was hoping I could treat you to a drink. It’s the least I can do.” Scarlett sounds disappointed.

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

She puts a hand on her hip, “Fine. Let’s consider it a celebratory drink then.”

“For?”

“Ugh,” Scarlett rolls her eyes. There’s no way she doesn’t know how charming that is. “For getting rid of Paul. Making new friends- whatever you want.”

Peter huffs a small laugh, “Friends? We just met.” 

It’s not an outright refusal, because Peter is weak for the first real taste of human contact he’s had in months, and Scarlett smirks like she scents blood, “What can I say? I got a good feeling about you.”

Peter snorts. Now that’s a first. 

“C’mon, Tiger. One drink. What have you got to lose?”

Peter exhales a long, slow breath, “Nothing.”

[johnnysuhbmarine]

What's my Problem? That's Easy, You.

Pairing: Haechan x reader Description: There’s no one on this planet that you hate more than your roommate’s best friend, Haechan, and he hates you back just the same. Though, sharing a best friend meant you had to see him all the time. When giving into one impulse desire ends with the two of you making out, it quickly develops into a friends (or enemies) with benefits relationship that the two of you agree to keep quiet about. Surely nothing could go wrong, right?  Content warnings: swearing, insults, talk about sex, Haechan in skinny jeans, Haechan’s girlfriend (later ex) is really mean to him, lots of eye rolling and head shaking, sexual harassment from reader’s professor, death (not a main character but it affects Haechan), lots of making out…taking off shirts…etc, Haechan is hot and arrogant but kind of a loser when it comes to y/n (eventually), mention of a choking kink, corpse lyrics, they have sex but it’s closed-door/SFW, Haechan makes one really poor decision, angst with a happy ending. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything. Word count: 21,108 :) A/n: Happy Haechan day! This has been in the works for entirely too long, but I’m excited to finally release a longer fic rather than one shots. This was only written because I had to do something after seeing Haechan in the ISTJ dance practice video cause he’s never left my mind since. Shout out to @fullsunstrawberry for listening to me talk about this fic instead of me actually writing it. Hey bestie, *waves* it’s finally finished :) Please enjoy, or don’t…I can’t tell you what to do. As always, feedback would be GREATLY appreciated :)

You open the door to your apartment-style dorm room, and when you see a figure on the couch, you assume it’s your best friend and roommate, Jessica. The two of you met in a class last year and you were over the moon at the idea of rooming with her for the rest of university rather than the roommates you currently had at the time. However, instead of laying eyes on your best friend, it’s a guy you’ve never seen before, casually sprawled out on your couch. You jump in surprise and furrow your eyebrows as you address his presence. “Wha- who are you?!”

He moves his gaze from the TV up to where you were, still at the door. “Haechan…Jessica’s best friend? I’m sure she’s talked about me. Who are you?” He replies in a condescending tone, looking completely unenthused to be talking with you and, within seconds, you were beginning to feel much the same. You shake your head, annoyed.

“No, I’m the one who lives here so I’m asking the questions. What are you doing here? How did you get in?” You ask, though now just wondering how long it would be until he left. 

He looks at you as though you were stupid, like talking to you was a waste of his time. Regardless, he gives you somewhat of an answer. “Are you dense? I’m hanging out with Jessica today. She let me in before she went back to go get ready.”

You freeze, anger coursing through your veins at the audacity of this guy. “I’m not dense. God, I hate people like you.” You spit back. Haechan raises his brows tauntingly. 

“‘People like me’ as in?”

“Arrogant dickheads whose brain power is just used to keep track of how many beds they’ve been in.” You finish, rolling your eyes before moving to set down your backpack and grab what you actually came back to your dorm for - your purse. You miss the devilish smirk that Haechan bears on his face, but you don’t miss the cocky laugh that escapes his figure before he speaks up again as you cross the room.

“Strange, I don’t remember bringing up my sex life before this. It must be on your mind then, huh?” He replies seriously, getting you to pause again. You ball your hands into fists, taking a few steps so that you were back in each other’s line of sight before arguing with him some more. 

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You think everyone is thinking about sex with you. I hate to break it to you, but you’re not that attractive.” You say, more than glad when your last statement came out firm and serious…you typically weren’t good at lying.

Haechan lets out another laugh, stretching his arms up and bringing his hands together at the back of his head. “Yeah?” He questions lazily. “You’re not that hot yourself, sunshine.”

The nickname has your blood boiling. “Never call me that again. Besides, it doesn’t even make sense. You say I’m not hot and then call me sunshine. You know the sun is 15 million degrees Celsius, right?” You remark, but instead of making Haechan feel stupid, you seemingly gave him more ammunition.

“Oh,” he says as though he just figured out the answer to life. “So, you’re a nerd. I get it.” He adds, a stupid grin on his face.

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“You don’t get out much do you? Just spend all your time memorizing pointless facts and praying someone along the way finally has to find that attractive since you know you won’t pull a guy with your looks?”

You freeze, in a deadlocked stare with Haechan, both of your gazes filled with resentment. It wasn’t a pointless fact - you were an astronomy and physics double major, but saying that wouldn’t provide him with anything but more reason to call you a nerd, and the last thing you felt like doing was addressing the part about your looks. Instead, you shake your head, then motion to the purse you were now carrying rather than your backpack. “I’m going out right now, thank you very much. God. Tell Jessica to let me know whenever you’re going to be over. I’ll make sure to never be home for it. I don’t know how she can tolerate someone like you.” You spit out, turning to open the front door again.

“Right back at you.” Haechan replies, not letting up on his glare until the door’s completely closed again, then turning lazily back to the TV just as Jessica walks out from the bathroom.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you just talking to like that?” She questions, eyebrows raised, more than curious at the identity of who riled up Haechan like that.

Haechan shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t on the phone. Your roommate came in…and then left again.” 

Jessica’s face drops from curiosity to disbelief. “You were arguing with y/n like that?!”

Haechan shrugs. “If that’s the name of your irritating roommate, then yeah.” Jessica rolls her eyes, doing the mental calculations of how long this semester was going to feel with her two best friends hating each other.

When you get back from bar and trivia night with your friends a few hours later, your living room couch is back to just being occupied by Jessica. You smile at her as you walk in and lock the door behind you, but her face when you turn back around is more grave than you think you’ve ever seen.

“We’re gonna have to talk about you and Hyuck.” She says seriously, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“Who the hell is Hyuck?” You laugh, and Jess just rolls her eyes playfully, nodding her head to motion for you to sit down next to her on the couch.

She looks you in the eyes intently. “Haechan.” She says, and your playful demeanor drops in an instant. “His real name is Donghyuck- but that’s besides the point. Look, he’s been my best friend for more than half of my life. He’s had an extra key to wherever I’m living every year of college so far…”

“No.” You answer firmly, and Jessica sighs.

“Y/n, he’s not a bad guy-” She starts, but you shake your head.

“I don’t care if he’s bad, I care that he’s the most aggravating person I’ve ever met. I don’t want him to have a key to this place.”

Jessica raises her eyebrows. “Not even if it doubles as a safety mechanism having someone other than the two of us be able to get in here should we need help?”

Technically, that could come in handy, but you don’t care. “No.” You reply, trying your best to be dismissive of the topic, but it’s apparently really important to Jessica.

“Y/n…” She says softly, and you roll your eyes with a huff of breath.

“Fine, but he’s not allowed to just come over whenever he’s bored. You two need to have set plans for him to use his extra key.” 

“Deal!” She says as she lights up, and you try to imagine yourself in her position - you’d probably want to keep the tradition of giving your best friend an extra key, too…though your other best friend wouldn’t be as annoying as Haechan. Regardless, you liked seeing Jessica happy, and if this was what it took, then so be it.

A week later, you and Jessica found yourselves sitting on the couch watching Bones, a typical after-homework routine. It became disgustingly less typical when your attention was turned to the sound of a key unlocking the door to your dorm. You hide your groan but nothing stops your eye roll as soon as you see Haechan. His gaze passes right over you as he greets Jessica, apparently his goal today was just to pretend you didn’t exist. You couldn’t be too peeved - the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him. However, you could be mad because you don’t remember Jessica saying anything about having plans with him today, and you watch as your one guideline for him having an extra key slips down the drain. 

Jessica doesn’t think anything of it, of course she wouldn’t, he’s one of her best friends. “Hey Hyuck, we’re watching Bones if you want to join.” She says neutrally. Somewhere along the line, Haechan must have figured out you weren’t just a demon in one of his nightmares, because you had the pleasure of being the subject of his reply.

“Not if she’s still going to be here, too.” He says sternly, causing you to scoff.

“I was here first, you dick.”

At your side, Jessica sighs, seeming to know exactly where this was going as Haechan’s eyes light with fire. “Okay idiot, and I was her friend first.” He spits back, making you clench your jaw…and a fist. A multitude of insults could be thrown your way and you would’ve brushed it off, but ‘idiot?’ That gets under your skin every time. Though, because you were Jessica’s best friend, she knew that, and immediately jumped to calm you down. 

“Okay…” She says, gently grabbing you by the shoulders and settling you back down into the couch. “Y/n, you are not an idiot, I promise. And Hyuck…” she continues, moving her flat gaze over to him. “You’re not a dick - though you make it very hard to defend you sometimes.” As Jessica finished, her gaze flicked back and forth between you and Haechan. The two of you shot your gaze off towards completely different walls of the dorm, refusing to look at the other even in the slightest. Jessica waited five seconds for either of you to say anything, but when that didn’t happen, she spoke up again.

“You guys are insufferable.” She begins with a sigh. “You know it’s my birthday this weekend. I was looking forward to being able to spend it with my best friends…all of them.” Her words are soft and you know she’s serious. Your shoulders drop.

“Where are you going with this?” You ask, immediately shutting your eyes in preparation for the answer you knew you wouldn’t want to face.

“Is it even in the realm of possibility for the two of you to get along for just one night? One dinner?” Jessica asks hopefully. You and Haechan finally whip your heads around to face Jessica, a matching look of terror on both of your faces.

“No.”

“Absolutely not.” You respond at the same time.

Jessica rolls her eyes, and you hate it because it meant your responses actually put her in a sour mood…and all you ever wanted as her best friend was for her to be happy. The horrible news is that she knew this, and used it to her advantage against the both of you. “If I put you on opposite sides of the table, could you at least be civil? For me.” She adds, the cherry on top of her already disheartened tone.

You and Haechan take one small glance at each other, enough to reach the same conclusion before you both respond. “Fine.” A smirk reaches Jessica’s face and you shake your head, getting up from the couch to instead find solace in your bedroom, letting Haechan take your spot without another word.

In what you thought was too little time, it was already the evening of Jessica’s birthday dinner. The dress code was fancier than you were used to, but all you had time for was one sigh at yourself in the mirror before Jessica was rushing you out the door. The two of you getting in the car must have been the trigger for her to start going over the game plan again, because the first thing she said as she pulled out of the parking lot of your dorm was, “there’s going to be thirteen of us there tonight. You and Haechan won’t be anywhere near each other, but even so, please just try and not hate him an overwhelming amount tonight.” 

You drop your head to face your lap with a laugh. “Don’t worry. You know me, you know the last thing on my mind is ruining your birthday. I’ll be good.” 

Her light laugh and nod in response let you know she believed you, and as she pulled to a stop light she looked your way for a moment. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” 

You roll your eyes but it doesn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. “Look who’s talking.” You say seriously. Your best friend was always gorgeous, but times like these it was hard to do anything but stare. Jessica shakes her head.

“Well, you know. ‘Dress to impress’ and all that.” She replies, and you whip your head towards her, your words coming out as though you were frightened.

“Who are you trying to impress? Please don’t tell me it’s Haechan. Oh my God. No. I can stand the two of you being friends but you cannot date him or I might die.” 

At this, Jessica rolls her eyes, taking time to laugh rather than save you from your worst nightmare. “Y/n, how many times have I talked to you about guys in a romantic sense? Has any of it ever been about Haechan? No.” She answers for you. “It’s always been about…” This time she drags off and leaves you to fill in the blanks yourself. You finally get over the horror that could have faced you and your mind clears, causing you to light up.

“Mark! Wait, Mark is coming?!” You ask excitedly, making her laugh some more.

“Yes, Mark is coming. We are really good friends, after all. I’m just thinking if he sees me all dressed up, he’ll finally realize he has to ask me on a date sooner than later or someone else will. I’m getting tired of waiting for his dorky ass.” She replies, and you raise your eyebrows - you know she would wait forever for Mark, not that she necessarily should, but she would.

The two of you arrive at the restaurant to find out you were the first ones there for the party and start on checking in for the reservation. Then, as you both turn around from the host stand, you’re greeted with Mark and Haechan walking in together. You’re sure Mark looked great, but you would be lying if you said you even took one look at him. Instead, all of your attention was on Haechan, his white button-up tightly hugging his body, the look complete with rolled-up sleeves. You did your best not to stare, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyways, he wasn’t paying any attention to you. Instead, he was now entirely engrossed in conversation with Mark and Jessica. You don’t even know if he knew you were here, and in that moment you realized tonight was going to prove a lot harder than you originally thought, because you hated Haechan an overwhelming amount. 

Thankfully, the rest of the party arrived soon after and you were all quickly seated, Jessica in the middle with you and Haechan at complete opposite ends as promised. Instead, you got to sit and talk with Winter and Jisung. Overall, you really couldn’t complain. Winter was one of the first friends you made on campus. On the other hand, you and Jisung had been partnered for a project one semester that saw the two of you sharing way too many 2:00 am coffees as you tried to squeeze the semester project into the span of two weeks - your friendship with Jisung feels more so like the result of trauma bonding, but you wouldn’t have traded it for the world. 

That being said, dinner went pretty smoothly. After eating your main course, you excused yourself to use the bathroom, but you didn’t even make it ten steps before you realized you were being trailed. As you step into the hallway where the doors to the restrooms were, you turn around to face Haechan. “Really? You couldn’t wait until I was back at the table?” You ask plainly. Haechan furrows his brows.

“I didn’t plan this. I didn’t even realize you had gotten up from the table. I wasn’t paying any attention to you.” He remarks, and you roll your eyes.

“Right, all you ever do is pretend I don’t exist. How could I forget?” You say sarcastically.

Haechan scoffs, shaking his head. “Well, all you do is hate me for existing, so I feel like it’s a pretty even balance. Besides, every time I acknowledge your existence, it ends up like this.” 

You pause for a moment, glaring at Haechan. Was it truly easier to pretend you didn’t exist rather than deal with the fact that you do. “I hate you.” You finally say. Haechan feigns surprise, moving a hand over his heart as if he’s just been shot. Though, his face neutralizes in an instant.

“I hate you, too. Can we get on with why we’re actually here now?” He asks, nodding his head towards the men’s room as he looks towards you with disinterest. You clench your jaw, not bothering to give him a verbal response as you walk into the ladies room, where you finally let yourself breathe again. 

The rest of the dinner party went by quickly, and suddenly it was just you and Jessica back in her car. “Well, that went really well!” She said, beaming. You could hardly match the enthusiasm, though.

“Yeah…”

She chanced a look over at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Did it not go really well?”

“It was fine.” You reply softly, shaking your head. You didn’t want to ruin the night now after appearing to have successfully made it through dinner.

“You two weren’t even around each other.” She says, her underlying tone letting you know how confused she was.

“We ran into each other by the bathrooms.” You say, shrugging in your seat.

Jessica grimaces. “Didn’t go well, I’m guessing.”

You let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “I don’t understand what his problem is.”

“He doesn’t have a problem.” Jessica replies with a light laugh, and you shoot your gaze over to her in question.

“Really? So, he’s just always a dick?” You ask, trying your best to keep your tone light while also letting her know that, if that’s normal Haechan, you were harshly judging her choice of friends.

Jessica smiles, a small laugh coming out that’s more so just an exhale. “No…but maybe the issue is just the fact that you hate him. Maybe if you were a little nicer to him, he would calm down, too.” She says, doing her best to be convincing, but you just shake your head.

“I don’t want to be nice to him. Not ever.” You say firmly, and surprising you, Jessica just shrugs lightly.

“Well, I tried.”

You frown, looking over at her in the driver’s seat. “Sorry…it was a really fun birthday party, though.” You say, hoping she knew that Haechan didn’t ruin your day and praying that in turn, you didn’t ruin hers.

There seemed to be no reason to worry, though, because at the mention of the actual dinner party, Jessica lit back up. “Oh, you don’t need to tell me. I had a blast, and you and Haechan took care of all your fighting off-screen. Doesn’t bother me any.” She replies with a laugh, getting you to lighten up, too. Creating cause for excitement in itself, conversation for the rest of the drive back had nothing to do with Haechan. Instead, you learned that Mark did, in fact, figure out that his window of opportunity was closing and now he and Jessica have an official date tomorrow. In other words, the two of you squealed the rest of the way home.

It was close to a week later when you next saw Haechan again. It took Mark and Jessica one date to realize that they wanted to make things official, so you ended up seeing Mark around much more often than Haechan for a little bit. Though on Friday, the familiar turn of the key in the door was heard while you and Jessica were watching Bones in the living room, and you knew your mortal enemy was making his comeback after six days. 

Jessica paused the TV and you immediately got up from the couch, bringing your empty bowl of ramen to the kitchen so you could start on cleaning it. Then, Haechan finally made his way through the front door. You don’t bother looking up to greet his presence, he never did for you anyways. However, in an instant, Jessica was off the couch and grabbed Haechan by the wrist, stopping him from sitting down. 

“You look like you’ve been crying.” She says as Haechan turns to look at her.

He shakes his head solemnly. “No, I’m fine. They just wanted me to try a new brand of contacts since my other ones got discontinued, but these irritate my eyes. I just haven’t had the chance to go back and switch brands again, and I’m not really in the mood to pay for more contacts and waste all the money I just spent on these.”

“Take them out.” She replies instantly, and Haechan lets out something of a forced laugh.

“Well that’s the thing, these are weekly contacts, and I don’t have a case or solution with me to store them…and I don’t want to buy all that just for me to possibly switch back to daily contacts again soon.”

Jessica lets his wrist drop, seemingly understanding. From the kitchen, you shake your head, not remembering when you became so invested in the first place. In an instant, you finish with your bowl and head to your room without a word. 

You lasted in your bedroom doing homework for about an hour, which, everything considered, you thought was pretty good, but then you couldn’t stand the constant noise anymore from the other side of your bedroom wall. You threw all of your things into your backpack, getting up and storming out of the room.

“Agh! I hate his guts! I’m going to the library.” You proclaim loudly as you step back out towards the living room. 

On the couch, Haechan looks over at Jessica. “She talks about me a lot, doesn’t she? I didn’t even do anything this time.” He says with a laugh, but you just glare at him.

“Grow up, not everything is about you.” You spit out before heading towards the door.

Jessica waits for you to be completely gone before she ever answers Haechan. “Ha, she’s actually talking about our neighbor on the right. Their bedrooms share a wall and he has an unrivaled sex drive. I think she was traumatized the first time she heard…it. Though now, it’s just extra noise and it irritates the hell out of her when she’s trying to study.” Haechan’s jaw drops in surprise, the corners of his mouth wavering as he tries not to laugh. Jessica shakes her head, a smile coming onto her face. “It’s a little bit funny.” She says, getting Haechan to finally break into a smile too before continuing their conversation from before you left. Though, with it being a Friday, it wasn’t too much longer before they themselves were out of the house, though their destination was the bar instead of the library.

The next few nights came and went, until suddenly it was Tuesday again, when Haechan and Jess typically grabbed dinner together. You were doing homework at the coffee table, figuring a change in scenery would help you focus - that and the fact that your neighbor on the right was having another fun night. Jessica was still getting ready in her room when Haechan walked in through the front door. From the couch, you move your gaze towards him, figuring out he’s been holding out on you when it comes to his clothes. Today, he showed up in a black t-shirt, totally normal and fine, though said shirt was tucked into blue skinny jeans, not totally normal nor fine. 

“You’re staring.” Haechan says, bringing you back to real life. You shake your head, finally meeting his disinterested eyes.

“You don’t need to wear skinny jeans ever again.” You say flatly, and Haechan just scoffs before letting a smirk cross his face.

“My girlfriend wouldn’t take kindly to you telling me what to do.” He replies, and the news of a girlfriend only shocks you for a second before you snap back.

“Girlfriend? Wow, maybe you’ll get less annoying now that you’ve found someone willing to suck your dick.” You say, your face lighting up, although your tone conveyed how little hope you actually had in that happening.

Haechan narrows his eyes at you, his smirk turning evil. “Oh, I have a long, distinguished list of willing volunteers. Have you found anyone willing to suck yours yet?”

“Very funny.” You reply monotonously. Haechan just rolls his eyes, about hitting his limit of words spoken to you for the day.

“Where’s Jess?” He asks, his typical disinterest when it comes to you now back in his tone. You shake your head before nodding it in the direction of her room, not wanting to bother with actually talking to him anymore, either.

The next week, a casual Thursday night that you and Jessica thought you had to yourselves was disrupted with a soft knock on the door, and Jessica moved from the couch to open it, promptly stepping back to let Haechan inside, and you hate the fact that his loophole to not using his front door key unless he actually had plans with Jessica was just to knock instead. He walks in normally, but Jessica grabs his forearm with raised eyebrows. “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” She asks, considering the conversation from a little over a week ago.

You watch from the couch as Haechan visibly gulps, dropping his head to try and cover up his saddened expression. “...she doesn’t like when I wear them.” He states, and immediately you and Jessica both know he’s talking about his girlfriend. Despite never meeting her, you hated her guts. Ever since she got with Haechan, all she’s done is be toxic. You know so, because Haechan ends up at your dorm basically every night seeking comfort from Jessica after his girlfriend spends their dates degrading him the entire time.

You immediately pop up from the couch and storm to your room, slamming the door behind you, though that was more so accidental. How Haechan’s girlfriend treated him was none of your business, and not worth you getting worked up over, but his constant need to decompress in Jessica’s presence meant you had to see him a lot more than you would have ever liked, and that’s where you started having problems. If his girlfriend was actually nice and cared about him, you probably would have never had to see him again because he’d be spending so much time with her…it was your luck that the opposite happened. 

Almost two weeks passed of seeing Haechan every single day, and you started just strictly staying in your room any time past 5:00 to try and avoid seeing him completely. Though, when the next Tuesday rolled around, you were the one to open the door in response to the firm knocks. You knew Haechan and Jess were going out to grab dinner tonight, it was a weekly thing, so you didn’t understand why he couldn’t just use his key. In an odd turn of events, the first thing Haechan says as he steps through the door frame is ‘thank you.’ You stand there in shock, and he takes it as a sign that he needed to elaborate. “Sorry, I didn’t come from my house so I don’t have my extra key to this place.” He explains, but now you’re hardly listening to his words. Instead, taking the proximity provided by neither of you leaving the doorway to study his face with a frown. 

“Are you wearing makeup?” You question with furrowed brows. Surprising you, Haechan ducked his head, and his voice was weaker than you’ve ever heard as he responded.

“She said I have too many flaws on my skin right now and it was embarrassing her.” Your eyes widen. His girlfriend. His girlfriend, the reason he’s stopped wearing glasses and apparently the reason he has foundation and concealer covering his face right now. Your jaw clenches involuntarily. This is where you draw the line.

“Fuck that.” You spit out, grabbing Haechan’s wrist and dragging him to the bathroom with you.

He glances towards your physical contact before looking back up at you with scrunched eyebrows. “Y/n, what are you doing?” He asks as you place tons of different items on the counter.

“Taking off your makeup.” You reply sternly, and his eyes go wide.

“No, you can’t. Please.” He begs, and your heart chips a little. Your hand freezes above the water tap, sighing deeply in place of turning on the sink.

“Did you want to put it on or did she make you?” You ask softly, and Haechan’s face drops once again.

“She made me...” He replies in defeat, and you immediately turn the water on, much to his dismay. “You can’t take it off! I’m seeing her again tonight for something at her sorority!” His plea falls on deaf ears as you let the water warm up and start rubbing cleanser onto his face. You finally finish with your typical skin care routine for him, taking a step away to hang the washcloth to dry and start on putting your products away.

“If you want to wear makeup, that’s fine. But don’t ever come over here in makeup she’s made you put on again, or I’ll give you a reason to need concealer.” You say offhandedly as you finish and walk out of the bathroom with Haechan in toe.

“Did you just threaten to punch me?” He asks, a scoff accompanying it.

“Of course I did. I despise you. You’re an annoying prick, but I don’t need you feeling bad about yourself for any reason other than that…especially for something like this.” 

Haechan stares at you bewildered, trying to figure out if your words just meant what he thinks they did. “Y/n-”

“Have fun getting dinner with Jessica.” You cut him off, not giving his curiosity the satisfaction of an explanation. “Don’t worry about your girlfriend after…she won’t even notice. I gotta go do homework. Jess should be ready in a minute or so.” Then you were behind your closed bedroom door, fists clenched at your sides as you let anger run through your body. It wasn’t long before you heard Jessica come out of her room and start up a conversation with Haechan, and that was when you finally let yourself relax a little. 

Haechan was the one to start intentionally avoiding you after that. You figure you probably crossed a line that enemies don’t, but you don’t regret it. You and Haechan weren’t friends anyways, so it’s not like him now avoiding you really changed anything - it just made your own efforts to avoid him even easier.

So, about a month passed of you and Haechan avoiding each other, and when that wasn’t an option, sending each other nasty glares and rude remarks. You tried not to start anything, seeing as his girlfriend was doing enough damage to his mental health in the first place, but you still couldn’t back down and let him win if he started anything. Nevertheless, it was your birthday today and you were determined to make it as great as it could be, starting with not having Haechan anywhere near your thoughts. Instead, you were more focused on the three classes you had today, almost all of your brain power going towards making up scenarios for how your conversation with your last professor would go. 

As always, Dr. Choi never let your class out early, and you’re thankful you didn’t have a class following this or you would never get the time to ask him questions after. From your seat in the middle of the lecture hall, you made your way down to where his desk was set up, completely going against traffic as the rest of the students rushed towards the exits. As your footsteps grew closer to him, he looked up from his desk, a smile flashing across his face. 

“Ah, y/n. You look…” He starts, and you freeze as you withstand his eyeing you up and down. You should’ve known better than to imagine a case where this conversation went any differently. Dr. Choi habitually let his gaze linger on you too long, even if you were in a big t-shirt and jeans, but now here you were dressed up for your birthday. “Are you here to ask for extra credit?” He continues, and you slightly cringe in disgust. You were too used to it to have a bigger reaction, and you knew that if you didn’t play it cool, he would be uncooperative anyways.

Instead, you just shake your head lightly as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “No, I was wondering if you could open up the exam again so I can see which questions I got wrong.” You reply seriously. You got a 96 on the exam in question, and you’re sure no one who gets a 96 on a quantum mechanics exam ever takes the time to care about those 4 lost points…but it almost bothered you more than if you failed. You weren’t unprepared - all that a 96 shows is that there’s something you genuinely did not know, and not being able to look at the answers after grades were posted wasn’t helping you figure out what that was.

Dr. Choi’s reply is fast, monotone…deliberate. “Depends on if you open up your legs.” 

“Dr.-” You start flatly, but he’s quick to cut you off as his eyes light with fire.

“Into roleplay, are you?” He asks with a smirk, and if you were any less used to his behavior, you would have thrown up. Instead, you roll your eyes.

“No, Dr. Choi. You have a doctorate, so I’m being respectful. Is there any use in getting you to let me see the exam again?” You ask, staring him dead in the eye. His face loses its passion as he turns stoic, though maybe you could sense his disappointment in your dismissal.

“I told you my requirements.” He says somberly, and you just nod your head.

“Great. Thank you for your time.” You reply. Your walk out of class is natural in manner, but immediately once you get outside, your shoulders fall as you drop your head into your hands. You stand like that for only a moment to regain your composure, and then start up on your walk to your dorm. You had to get over it quickly and act like nothing was wrong. You still haven’t told Jessica about this professor. He was one of the heads of the physics department, so you’ve had to deal with him all the way up to now, and you’d have to deal with him after this course. You didn’t want Jessica to get all angry if there wasn’t anything you could do about it. So instead, you place a light smile back on your face and let yourself relax, knowing the rest of your birthday consists solely of time with your best friend - no vile professors, and no Haechan.

Another week goes by without a hitch, and so on Friday, you had spent most of the evening on the couch watching Bones. You had no homework and Jessica was out on a date with Mark for the night, not planning to get back until after 11:00. So, you figured you would occupy the living room rather than be huddled inside your bedroom hiding from Haechan if he had no reason to come over anyways. Though, it was only a little after 6:00 when the door to your dorm began to open, and you instinctively roll your eyes, knowing the only person it could be. “Jessica isn’t here, and frankly I’m gonna have to talk to her about you having an extra key-” You start as he opens the door, but then you finally see the state he’s in and worry begins to overtake your annoyance. “Haechan?!” You question, his tear-stained face a completely new sight to you.

His gaze has yet to be picked up off the floor, as he stands in complete defeat, his body shaking with sobs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know if she would be here or not, and I couldn’t take the time to text and ask.” 

You’re immediately up off the couch, though you’re still frozen in your spot a few feet away from him. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to make your voice sound calmer than you felt in an attempt to get at least some control of the situation.

Haechan shakes his head. “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have barged in. I shouldn’t be here.” He states, turning around to walk right back out of the door. He’s stopped though, by your firm tone.

“Lee Donghyuck, what is wrong?” This time, your question comes out more as a demand, and it’s enough to make Haechan freeze in his spot, dropping his hand that was reaching for the door knob. 

“My dad got in a car accident. He didn’t even make it through the ambulance ride.” He says, his words cut up by his cries. Your world stops, and you just stare at him. You were already really bad at comforting people, and this was the last thing you were expecting to hear, not to mention the last person you expected to be confiding in you.

“Hyuck…” You begin, but all you can do is fumble for words you know won’t come. Haechan gives you the pleasure of cutting you off.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” He replies, now fully crying again as he brings his hands up to cover his face. His sobs only silence for a second as he registers your touch. He brings his hands down to actually get visual confirmation that you were hugging him. You were standing in your living room and hugging your worst enemy, but you couldn’t just do nothing anymore. Your face pressed into his chest, you mumble out the best response you can muster.

“Here is just fine. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I’m sorry Jessica isn’t home to be the one to comfort you. I’m sorry it’s me, instead. I know you probably have other friends but…I’m watching Bones if you want to join. We can watch, like, an entire season if you want, and I’ll order your favorite food. If you want. I just- don’t really want you alone right now, and I’m scared that if I kick you out, you won’t ever find your way back out of your bedroom.”

At your words, Haechan seems to settle a bit more into the hug, using one sleeve of his hoodie to dry up his tears before replying. “Bones sounds good. What season are you on?”

You pick your head back out of his chest, staring up at him with a weak smile, hoping it conveyed just how grateful you were that he accepted your offer. “Just started season four. Come on.” 

You let go from the hug and motion for Haechan to find a place on the couch while you headed for the kitchen. While Haechan had been over more than you would have ever liked, your constant avoidance of him meant you had no clue what he actually liked. Instead, you stared at the open pantry with a frown before deciding to just grab all of your favorite snacks to share in hopes that he, too, enjoyed at least one of them. 

You place them all down on the coffee table in front of the couch, but suddenly you feel too awkward to say anything. So, you just make hesitant eye contact with Haechan for a second or two before he breaks away to actually look at everything you brought over. Though, because you’re still staring, you manage to catch the faint “thank you” that left his lips as he reached for a bag of chips. Despite yourself, the corners of your mouth perk up in a soft smile as you finally move to sit down next to him on the couch…a few feet away, but next to him.

It would have been completely quiet had the show not been on. Apparently you and Haechan were still really bad at being even acquaintances. Though, with the introduction of a new character, you quickly found your in.

“God, she’s had like, two minutes of screen time and I already hate Agent Perotta.” You say with a slight laugh, trying not to let it show how nervous you were to talk to him. Instead of glaring at you or pretending your input was the last thing he needed, though, he nodded a bit, smiling.

“Thank God you said it, because I hate her, too, but as a man I feel like saying it out of the blue would be distasteful.” He replies, and before you could stop it, you let out a heavy exhale of laughter. Immediately, your hand reaches up to cover your face, but Haechan had already whipped his head towards you. “Did you just find me funny?” He questions, the smile on his face growing.

You quickly shake your head, though your face wears a matching smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This conversation is about Agent Perotta.” You say, looking back at the TV.

Haechan flashes his eyebrows up for a moment before redirecting his attention back to the show as well. “Yeah, I hate that bitch.” He says flatly, getting you to nod.

“I think this is the first thing we’ve ever agreed on.” You say, letting the shock factor show in your voice.

Haechan shakes his head, smiling in disbelief. “Should’ve known it was going to be about hating someone. Pretty sure you hate everyone except Jessica. I mean, what are we at now?” He teases, beginning to count them off on his fingers. “Me, Agent Perotta, your neighbor on the right, your professor who makes sexual comments about you…”

Immediately you jump up from the couch, staring at him with the widest of eyes. “WHAT?! How do you know about that?”

You watch as Haechan just shakes his head quickly, as if his previous statement would erase like an etch-a-sketch. “Oh, sorry. He’s on my list of people I hate. Mixed them up.” He replies like it’s nothing, and you don’t know how he’s being so nonchalant about this.

“Hyuck, we don’t share that class, how do you know about that professor? I haven’t even told Jessica.” You ask again, the panic beginning to seep through your words some more. You didn’t know how he knew, you didn’t know if he was going to tell Jessica, you didn’t know if it would change the way he viewed you, you didn’t know why Haechan’s view of you mattered because it was already shit anyways…all of it made you anxious. 

Haechan hangs his head back, staring up at you from where he still sat lazily on the couch. “Please don’t worry about it. Forget I said anything.” He responds, his orders strict but his voice calm. You just shake your head once more.

“Hyuck-” You start, but this time he rolls his eyes, finally getting fed up with the conversation.

“I just wanna watch Bones! Can we make this day about me again? Hello, I’m sad and in need of a light-hearted distraction in the form of crime-solving.” He says, his volume already much louder than it just previously was. Typically, his whining would just make you want to punch him, but he was right, at least a little bit. He was the one with the bigger stressor, and while it wasn’t a competition in the first place, you did want this to be a comforting time for him, not one where you grilled him over his knowledge of your personal life.

“Agh, you’re so difficult!” You shout back, though placing yourself down on the couch again anyways.

Haechan flashes a quick smile in response. “Great! You hate me, we hate Agent Perotta, we’re back on track. Press play.” He says, moving his arms out towards the TV in a showy fashion that you hated. Though, with Agent Perotta back on screen, it did bring up another truth.

“...I hate you less than I hate her.” You say quietly, but with your focus back on Bones, you miss Haechan’s smartass smirk falling into something softer in response. Then, Bones is the only sound to fill the dorm again.

A few hours and entirely too much takeout later, the front door opens again as Jessica walks through. 

“Hey y/n, I’m home-” She starts, locking the door, but then she finally turns around to the living room and her jaw drops. “Hyuck?!”

“Hey!” You reply as though nothing were amiss. Jessica looks back and forth between you and Haechan more times than you could count, her eyebrows furrowed.

“You two are hanging out??” She questions, and Haechan just shrugs.

“I had a bad day. Needed some comfort.” He replies neutrally, but Jessica’s eyes just grow wider.

“So you decided to hang out with y/n? Who you typically can’t stand to be in a room with for more than 0.5 seconds.”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “Jessica, he came over to see if you were here.” You say, stating the obvious. It doesn’t help Jessica’s shock.

“But when he saw it was just you, he stayed?” She asks, and you’re pretty sure you saw the mania start to set in behind her eyes.

“We’ve been watching Bones.” Haechan says with a smile.

Jessica shakes her head in disbelief. “And neither of you find this strange?”

“We hate Agent Perotta.” You reply with a smirk, and suddenly a wave of clarity washes over Jessica.

“Ah, common ground. Makes more sense.” She says calmly as she starts making her way to the couch as well. “Well, mind if I join-” She starts, but then Haechan’s phone begins to ring and he’s up off the couch in an instant.

“My mom is calling. I have to go.” He says, and the sadness and worry that you had managed to kill over the past few hours reappears in his voice in no time.

“Hyuck?” Jessica questions, but he just shakes his head in dismissal.

“I have to go.” He restates, and then makes his way to the door. You watch from the couch as he starts to leave, probably to go drive to meet his mom - this late at night…driving. Panic erupts in your system.

“Haechan,” you cry out, scrambling off the couch. He whips his body back around to face you rather than the door. Without thinking, you wrap Haechan in a hug, speaking softly into his shoulder. “Be safe, okay?” 

Haechan lets out a small sigh, knowing exactly where your mind was at. Gently, he places his arms around you, as well. “I hate you less than I hate her, too.” He says softly in place of replying to your last statement. You freeze in his arms and he’s the first to let go, his phone beginning to ring again and reminding the both of you he had somewhere to be. He’s quickly out the front door, leaving you to just turn back around towards Jessica on the couch. 

“What was that?” She asks, completely confused again. You just shake your head.

“It’s really not for me to tell you. Haechan just…got really bad news today. But you’re his actual best friend, he’ll tell you as soon as he can, I’m sure. Then you can take over my role and do a much better job at comforting him or so help me God.” You reply, a small laugh accompanying the end of your sentence before you continue. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed, if you don’t mind. I hope your date with Mark went really well.” Jessica just nods from the couch, a little dumbfounded by your behavior if you had to guess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain any further. 

Within the following week, Haechan had told Jessica about his dad. However, he also told her another piece of news, which Jessica immediately relayed to you once she got back from hanging out with him. 

“Hey, just thought I would let you know that Haechan and his girlfriend broke up.” She says after entering your dorm. You look up at her from the kitchen table, eyes wide.

“What?!” You question with more emotion than you could have imagined, but with the situation with his dad, was this really when she had to break it off and hurt him further. Jessica doesn’t answer your question, probably because it was incredibly vague. Instead, she moves on to her actual point of telling you.

“So, he might be over even more often than before.” She says carefully, trying to gauge how pissed you were gonna be at that piece of news. You just shake your head.

“Did he say why they broke up?” You don’t know why you asked, you didn’t care, but Jessica didn’t seem to think any of it was out of the ordinary.

“No, but he’s pretty torn up about it, which sucks because we both know how horrible she was to him.” Right, regardless of what horrible timing this was because of his already sad state, his girlfriend, or ex, probably wasn’t helping anyways while they were together. You figure Haechan dodged a bullet with the relationship ending sooner rather than later. You nod in response, speaking through a sigh as the past memories and stories about his ex replayed in your mind.

“Yeah…”

Jessica seems to be doing the same, but she shakes out of it quicker than you. “I think I’m gonna take him out to the bars next weekend or something. I don’t have a lot of free time right now, but I figure he could use a night out.” She says neutrally, and you nod, letting her know you probably couldn’t come up with a better idea.

“Yeah.”

Then two weeks later, you were telling Jessica to be safe as she left for the bars with Haechan. She extended the invite, but you figured Haechan probably had enough of you trying to support and comfort him, so you just told her that you’d stay home and to call if they needed a ride back. At one in the morning, that call came, but it was from Haechan rather than Jessica, and as you pick up, you forget the entire reason they went out tonight, your mind running on autopilot once you see his name light up your phone screen.

“What do you want?” You ask, your disgust at his call hardly hidden in your voice. You immediately feel bad though when he responds and his tone is much gentler than the one you used for him.

“Hey, Jess was the one who apparently needed to unwind tonight, so I let her do all the drinking at the bar…too much, apparently. I was gonna drive her back to your place but she was concerned about ruining whatever image she thinks you have of her in your head, so instead of her getting sick at your place, I let her get sick at mine. She just got in the shower, but I gotta be honest, now that I’m home, I’m pretty exhausted. Do you think you could come grab her?” He asks, and for a moment, you smile softly. You could tell Jessica had been stressed the past few weeks, truly probably needing the night out more than Haechan, and it was comforting knowing that he didn’t drink so that he could look out for her at the bar and back home. 

You nod your head before realizing he couldn’t see it, and then you speak up, much softer than before. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Send me your address.” You say, then hanging up and grabbing your things to head his way.

Haechan opens the door in response to your knocking, the familiar bored expression back on his face. “You got here quicker than I thought you would…Jessica is still in the shower.” He states, as though your early presence was a huge inconvenience. You don’t pay attention to his tone, though. Your mind focuses on his clothes as you unintentionally scan his body up and down.

“Skinny jeans, huh?” You question with a straight face, meeting his eyes again as he smirks down at you.

“Well, I knew there was a high probability I’d see you tonight so I thought it would be fun to torment you-” You don’t know what came over you, but surely it wasn’t your fault. You told him not to wear skinny jeans ever again, and he did so just to spite you. Somehow, it all made him really hot, and you find yourself cutting off his words as you press your lips to his. You pull away quickly, shock covering both your faces as you simply stare at each other, eyes wide and breath heavy as you process what you just did. 

You swallow hard, trying to remedy your suddenly dry throat. Your courage to look him in the eyes diminishes within milliseconds, and you drop your face towards the floor, which seemed to irritate Haechan to no end because as soon as your gaze met the floor, he walked the one step back over to you, grabbing your jaw to the point where it almost hurt and forcing you to look his way again. Then he kissed you harshly, and you fell right in line. 

There was no romance in the kiss. Instead, something like lust had your tongues fighting for dominance with each other as your hands tried to memorize every part of Haechan’s body. The two of you moved with intensity, stumbling around the room because you couldn’t possibly stay still with the amount of passion embedded in this kiss. The first time you remember breaking away wasn’t so you could take a breath. You were fine never needing oxygen again. Instead you broke away to pull his shirt up over his head, discarding it to the side without much care. You immediately press your lips back onto his, but he’s quick to pull back this time, looking at you with a shake of his head as his eyes move back and forth between your two bodies.

“No fair!” He complains, causing you to roll your eyes before removing your own shirt to reveal your black lace bra because the universe was apparently on your side when you got dressed today. You watch his adam’s apple bob up and down as he takes you in, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “No fair…” He whispers before rushing to close the distance between you two again, but this time, his lips don’t land on yours. Instead, they find your chest as his hands squeeze at your waist. You throw your head back in response, giving Haechan the ability to leave a trail of kisses from your chest up your neck, stopping in the middle to nip at somewhere near your collarbone before his continued exploration, and you thank God that Jessica has the shower running to cover up the moan it produced from you. He kisses up your neck and jaw before eventually finding his way to your lips again, and you waste no time getting your tongue back in his mouth. Before you know it, he’s picking you up, just to throw you right back down on the couch. Your eyes open in surprise, but then the sight of him on top of you has you unable to function. For some godforsaken reason, he’s able to read you completely, chuckling as he looks at your breathless expression. 

The sound of his laugh gets you to break out of it, and you rush to connect your lips with his again. Your hands trace up and down his bare back, your nails sending goosebumps to his entire body as they claw at certain spots. Your hands get caught in his belt loops, causing a smile to cover your face and impeding your ability to kiss him, but you couldn’t help finding humor in the fact that his skinny jeans caused all of this. You shake your head, pulling away from the kiss for a moment and making Haechan pout before he moves to suck on your neck again.

“God, you have such a slutty waist for no reason.” You spit out in feigned anger, hands resuming their roaming over his figure. Haechan pops up so his eyes could meet yours. A playful smirk on his face covering up the split second glance you got of him looking ready to devour you.

“You love my slutty waist.” He responds confidently, and while you would love to prove him wrong, you can’t bring yourself to. So, you open and close your mouth, fighting for words that would never come out, and for a moment, Haechan looks down at you with something resembling fondness written over his features, though you were positive you were making that up. He shakes his head softly with a smile before leaning back down to kiss you, and once his lips were on yours, his entire demeanor was coated with a certain roughness and desire again that had you weak.

The only thing that pulled the two of you out of your bubble was the sound of the shower turning off, and suddenly your background noise was gone, making everything feel more real. Haechan broke out of the kiss with wide eyes, rushing to get off from on top of you as he grabbed your shirts from the floor, throwing yours over to you as he fumbled to put his own shirt back on. 

“Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.” He says sternly, running a hand through his hair to get it back to somewhat normal. You rush to put your shirt back on, bounding off the couch before Jessica could walk out of the bathroom.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” You reply in kind, refusing to acknowledge the pit in your stomach that formed as Haechan gave an uninterested eyebrow flash and went to busy himself in the kitchen, preparing to act normal for whenever Jessica eventually walked out so you could take her home. 

It was only three days later when you saw Haechan again. More excited than usual for their Tuesday dinner, Jessica opened the door before Haechan could even use his key. “Hey!” She greets with a smile which he reflects right back. 

“Hey!” He replies, actually stepping into your living room. 

Jessica immediately starts talking about how she’s not even close to being ready yet but was swamped with homework and couldn’t wait for the forced study break that came with dinner, even though she had to go make herself look presentable first. Haechan nodded along, but you’re not sure he was listening at all, because even though Jessica was right in front of him, his gaze kept wandering over to you on the couch before he could noticeably snap his focus back to Jessica. You tried to stay natural, that way if Jessica actually followed his gaze over to you, she wouldn’t immediately suspect something. Though, when Jessica did finally go back to start getting ready for dinner, you jumped off the couch and dragged Haechan by the collar towards the corner of the room furthest away from hers. 

“You have to stop being so weird around me. Jessica is gonna know something happened.” You say sternly, though you kept your voice at a near whisper just in case you weren’t as far away from Jessica as you thought. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked over Haechan. He had never been this uncool before. 

Haechan shakes his head, keeping his volume low though his words were more frantic than yours.  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” You take a small step back in surprise, finally letting go of your grip on his shirt. That was probably the last thing you were expecting him to say, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart jump up in your throat. 

“So…” You start, begging for clarification on what that meant.

Haechan moves his head down so that he’s able to make better eye contact with you, so that you could see the seriousness in his gaze. “So can we maybe see each other when Jessica isn’t getting ready in the next room?” 

You swallow hard at the question. “That sounds like a lot of sneaking around.”

“It’s worth it for you.” He replies instantaneously, making you freeze again. He was saying a very right thing under what felt like the wrong context, and despite yourself, you try to remedy that.

“But- does it have to be all sneaky? I mean, couldn’t we just-” Though, that’s as far as he lets you get before he cuts you off, shaking his head with a small laugh.

“Y/n, be real. We don’t like each other. This isn’t something emotional, it’s physical. Yeah?” Right, this was your mortal enemy you were talking to. You guys didn’t like each other. An actual relationship would be the worst idea in the world, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he looks like a dream in skinny jeans…and you’d take what you could get.

“Yeah- uh, yeah. Let’s do it.” You reply, and Haechan flashes you a killer smirk before breaking away and settling himself on the couch to wait for Jessica to get done. You don’t join him, already feeling dizzy from the conversation. Instead, you just find refuge in your bedroom until they leave, but that night didn’t end without a text from Haechan, already making plans.

You and Haechan quickly fell into routine. The first time you went over to his house under the guise of you going to study at the library, you hardly said two words to each other. Instead, Haechan opened his door to your presence and immediately pulled you inside by your arm, pushing you towards the general direction of the couch so he could get on top of you.

The next time you came over, he opened the door to see your bright smile. “Hey, Hyuck-!” You could hardly get your words out before he pulled you inside and pinned you against the now closed door. Through heavy pants in between harsh kisses, he speaks. 

“I love it when you call me that.”

You involuntarily smile a bit as you do your best to look at him with raised eyebrows. “Your name?” You ask sarcastically as he sucks on your neck.

He pops his head back up so he can look you in the eyes as he replied. “My name that the people who I care about call me.” You freeze, chills running through your entire body at his words, and in that moment, you knew you were fucked, because this was not just physical to you. Haechan was naturally flirty - a sweet talker. That wasn’t hard to deduce from his looks alone. He was hot and he knew it, which also meant he knew how to get whatever girl he wanted for the time being, but the idea of being a ‘time being’ girl of his began to make cracks in your heart. That night, you left with a spare key to his house and instructions of coming over whenever you wanted, for physical purposes, of course.  

As soon as Jessica said she was going back home for the weekend, you immediately texted Haechan to let him know, and not even five minutes after Jess closed the door to your place, you opened it back up again to Haechan’s presence. “Hey, y/n.” He says with a smile you can’t help but reflect back to him. 

“Hi, Hyuckie.” You reply bashfully. You watch as his eyes widen a bit, his smile now reaching the rest of his facial features. Without spending much time thinking about it, he leans in and gives you a quick peck on the lips before instantly retreating back and facing the floor. You laugh as you step back and actually allow him inside, figuring that kiss was probably too domestic for him to handle. 

Since the two of you hadn’t commenced this whole operation at your place before, Haechan waited for you to take the lead on deciding where he could have you. You watch his idle presence, laughing a bit, much to his confusion, before shaking your head. “Come here.” You say, nodding your head, and he’s quick to follow.

“Um, y/n?” He says as you turn into the room. “This is your bathroom.”

“I know.” You say, bending down to grab something in one of your cabinets. Haechan just stares at you bewildered, even more so when you pull out a lens case and contact solution. You smile at his expression. “Go on then. I know you still haven’t switched contacts and I know you brought your glasses with you.”

“What?” He asks with wide eyes. You shake your head fondly, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Your contacts irritate your eyes. You look cute in glasses. Please take out your stupid contacts and put your glasses on.” You watch as he dismisses your words, shaking his head as his eyes glaze with fear rather than confusion. You bite on the inside of your cheek, beyond pissed that his ex turned him into this. “Hyuck, you’re the hottest person alive. I don’t care about whatever your ex-girlfriend said. I understand if you get self-conscious and want to wear your contacts out in public, but you don’t have to with me. All I want is for you to be comfortable, and I know you’re not in your contacts.” You watch as he nods his head slowly, and you leave the bathroom with a soft smile as he gets close to the mirror to start taking his contacts out. 

You sit on the couch as you wait for him to come out of the bathroom, scrolling idly on your phone. You pop your head up to meet him when you hear his footsteps cause the floor to creak. He looks small, his arms crossed, gaze aimed at the floor, and his glasses on. You smile warmly. “My pretty boy, come here.” You say, standing up with open arms, but Haechan freezes.

“What?”

You don’t know what he’s confused about until you trace back over your words, eyes going wide as you try and remedy the situation. “I- I didn’t mean to be so possessive, calling you mine and everything. I know you’re not…mine. I mean, this is purely physical. I wasn’t trying to be like- you know. It just slipped out. I’m sorry. Please come objectify me and make things normal again.”

“Y/n, you know you’re not just a body to me, right?” He asks softly, a skeptical eyebrow raised. You raise your head to look at him through narrow eyes. 

“I’m not?”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“But then- but this is just physical…you don’t- I mean we don’t like each other so I don’t know how-” Your stumbling words are cut off with a kiss that you melt right into. Haechan pulls back finally with a tired expression on his face.

“You seriously talk too much. Yeah, we don’t like each other, but that doesn’t mean I act as if you’re just some body for me to use. You’re y/n, which means you’re my favorite person to hate. And you hate me back, which is great because you always look so hot when you’re pissed at me, it gets right under my skin in all the best ways. And I get the pleasure of knowing what you taste like? Do you know how big a flex that is? I mean, come on. You’re the hottest nerd around, and instead of the other nerds who probably have the biggest crush on you being the ones to kiss you like this, I’m the one who gets to know you use dragon fruit chapstick.” 

You’re able to let out a soft laugh. “You know it’s dragon fruit?” You ask in response, and Haechan raises his eyebrows, a smirk covering his lips.

“We kiss a lot.” He replies. You toss his words around visibly in your head.

“I don’t know. I don’t think we do it enough.” You say back, and Haechan just licks his lips. 

“You don’t know how badly I want to make you eat your words.” He says through his teeth, and you just throw a taunting grin his way.

“Then why don’t you?” You ask, and Haechan audibly laughs before grabbing you by the waist and crashing his lips onto yours.

You break after who knows how long when your stomach starts feeling like it’s caving in on itself. Haechan wastes no time in moving his lips from your own to your neck, guessing you probably just needed to break for air. You roll your eyes with a smile. “Hyuck.” You say monotonously, making him pop his head back up to your joyless demeanor.

“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. I just-”

“Hyuckie,” you laugh, and he seems to calm down a bit. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today. I’m starving. I can’t physically kiss your pretty face anymore.”

Haechan shrugs. “Okay, let’s order a pizza.” 

You look at him, bewildered. “What- I thought- you’re not just gonna…I thought you were gonna go.”

“And why would I do that?” He questions, making you scrunch your brows down.

“Because then it would be like us hanging out while we eat. Not…this.”

Haechan laughs again. “I know. Let’s order a pizza. We’ve watched Bones on your couch before. You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna leave you so soon.” 

The shyest smile crosses your face as you reach for the phone to call the pizza place. You stare down at the number entered on the keypad - all you had to do was press the call button. Instead, you turn your gaze back over to Haechan, holding your phone out towards him. “Can you do it?” You ask shyly, and Haechan’s brows furrow.

“What?” He asks with ample confusion. You drop your head in response.

“I get really nervous when I need to order something over the phone.” You reply, your words hardly audible under your embarrassment. Haechan shakes his head, but the biggest smile comes across his face.

“You’re so fucking adorable. Give me the phone, you go get the TV ready.” He says, and you snap your gaze back up to him, a small grateful smile of your own painted across your lips as you move towards the TV. “Just a large pepperoni pizza, yeah?” Haechan continues, and you turn back to him with a nod.

“Yeah.”

You immediately turn Bones on the TV for the two of you to watch while you eat, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find a normal activity such as this didn’t feel awkward at all with him anymore. Haechan finished eating before you did, and he frowned at the space between the two of you on the couch for only a second before sliding over and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You will your face not to blush at something as stupid as this, and you don’t even know if it worked. Regardless, there was still twenty minutes left on the episode when you finished eating, too. So, you made yourself more comfortable against his body.

Haechan started rubbing his thumb up and down your side where it had laid, incredibly too domestic for your liking. You try and shake it off pretty successfully, until his thumb moved ever so slightly to caress your covered breast. You sigh, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re an idiot.” You say monotonously. 

He doesn’t look away from the TV, but he grins widely. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replies. Though, his attempt to feign innocence is completely ruined when he straight up grabs your boob.

“Okay, that’s it.” You huff, switching from your position laying at his side to instead straddling him on top of your couch. Haechan looks at you as though he has no clue what you’re doing there, though his hands immediately latch onto your thighs, pulling you as close as possible to him. 

“You had enough to eat yet?” He asks with a smirk.

You give a minimal shake of your head. “I don’t know, you look pretty tasty.” You hardly get through your words before your ability to speak is taken from you. Haechan kissed you with a passion that couldn’t be rivaled, as his hands left your thighs to grab your waist, trying his best to pull you even closer to him. You knew you messed up when you started moving your lower body against his, making him break away from the kiss immediately. 

“Fuck, y/n!” He says loudly, but his grip on your waist only encourages you to speed up. As he tore his lips from yours, you moved to suck on his neck, another thing you shouldn’t have done. “No, no, no! That’s my job. Need your pretty neck.” He huffs, doing his best to remove your shirt. You let him, and then Haechan has a field day with your neck and chest as you still grind against him. Somewhere along the way, you managed to rip him from his shirt as well, your fingers lightly tracing his abs and making him go crazy. He eventually started dipping his fingers beneath the waistline of your pants. “Y/n, tell me to stop.” He breathes.

“Do I have to?” You reply in between kisses. 

“Yes, y/n. I- You don’t know how badly I need you.” 

“Show me, then.” 

Haechan pulls back from your lips, staring at you intently. “Y/n, I refuse to let this be something you regret.”

You laugh a little, shaking your head in dismissal. “I won’t. I promise.” 

Haechan looks at you as though he’s holding back his own laugh. “That sounded so certain. I would hate to be the guy that has you sure this won’t be as bad.” He replies, and you suddenly understand his interpretation of your words, causing you to duck your head, moving your attention to your hands that were currently fiddling with Haechan’s fingers.

“Oh, no. Hyuck, I’ve never…” Your words taper off, and Haechan looks at you with wide eyes.

“Oh my god, y/n. I can’t be your first. I mean, that’s a big deal, you know? You deserve-”

“Hyuck, there’s no one I trust more than you for this.” You say, cutting him off and getting him to render still. He licks his lips in contemplation, sighing heavily before he looks back up at you.

“You might end up bleeding - that’s okay. I don’t want you to worry about that or feel embarrassed at all because of it. I’ll clean you up after. If at any point you get uncomfortable, you tell me right away. I do not care what point that is, you tell me and it stops immediately, no questions asked. I will do my best to not hurt you, but you gotta tell me what feels good, okay? I’m gonna need you to be vocal and I mean it literally. I wanna make this about you, yeah? Tell me what you want and what feels good. And if you’re not 100% sure, I need you to be honest about it right now because-”

“Hyuckie.” You say gently, cutting him off. “I’m sure. You don’t have to worry.”

“Yes, I do!” He rebuttals. You just roll your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a quick kiss before making eye contact again.

“It’s okay. Look, all you have to do is wrap your pretty fingers around my neck and we’ll be good to go.” You say plainly. Haechan looks at you in disbelief.

“A choking kink? You’re kidding me.” He says, adding on a dismissive chuckle. Though, you just raise your eyebrows at him expectantly, letting him know you were serious, and he turns slightly shy.

You watch as he sucks on his lips, eyes darting down from your own as he fights back a smile. “Like, is this good?” He asks, wrapping one of his hands around your neck lightly. His face contorts as you audibly laugh.

“Absolutely not. Come on, choke me like you hate me, Hyuck.” 

His eyes go wide as he pulls his hand from your neck. “You know, I don’t know if I want to take you to the bedroom anymore. You scare me.” He remarks playfully, but you send a pout his way and he instantly folds, picking you up from under your thighs and making his way to your bedroom. The two of you spend an ample amount of time just making out, exploring each other’s bodies. Then, with another check of assurance from Haechan and a rip of a condom packet with his teeth, he gave you a glimpse of heaven. 

Afterwards, Haechan got straight to work on his promise of helping you clean up. “Alright, beautiful, do you wanna shower?” He asks, but you don’t answer his question.

“Don’t call me that.” You say instead, watching as he furrows his brows. You sigh, dodging his eye contact. “Too domestic…” You add on, and you can hear him sigh.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t call you that, but really, do you want to shower?” He asks again, and you nod. He immediately scoops you up, carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. 

“I can walk you know?” You say playfully before he sets you down on the bathroom floor.

“Yeah? Guess I need to go harder next time.” He replies with a smirk, but your playfulness falls into genuine happiness. 

“I’m glad there’s still a ‘next time’ after all this.” 

Haechan drops his shoulders, taking the opportunity provided by the fact that you were staring at the floor to look at you with a softness in his eyes. “There’s always a ‘next time’ with us.” He says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before moving to start up the shower for you. Standing frozen, by the time you realize you had to tell him that forehead kisses were also too domestic for you to handle, he was already out of the bathroom. 

When you walk back into your room wrapped in a towel, you’re shocked to see your bed stripped to just the mattress. You move your gaze to Haechan, a questioning look on your face. “Your sheets are in the washer right now. Do you have another set I can throw on your bed? If not, you can sleepover at mine. I’d just want to make sure we get your bedding in the dryer before we leave to go back to mine.” 

You’re quite honestly dumbfounded, and a smile takes over your face as you shake your head. “No, I don’t have another set. You didn’t have to do all this.” You say softly, but Haechan snaps his head back to you in an instant.

“Yes, I said I would. And this isn’t about me. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” You answer truthfully.

“Can I get you anything?” He continues, and you shake your head.

“No.” You reply. There was a beat of silence, and you lick your lips. “Actually…” You drag off, staring up at him to make sure he actually didn’t care about you making requests. “Could you just- can you just hold me for a second?” You ask weakly, and Haechan’s eyes widen.

“Yeah…yeah! Come here.” He says gently, and you take the few small steps right into his waiting arms. You don’t hug him back, your arms instead at your chest, holding up the towel that was still covering your body. Though, if Haechan minded, he didn’t let it show. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his embrace comforting. Then, without being able to really explain why, you began to cry in his arms. Haechan didn’t seem shocked. Instead, he just ran one hand gently up and down your back, though not letting up on his tight hold of you. 

“I’m sorry.” You say hoarsely. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” 

Haechan kisses the top of your head. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay. You’ve had an exhausting day. I’d rather you cry in my arms than alone.” 

You dig your head out of his chest, using one hand to wipe away the remaining tears on your face. “You can’t be this nice to me.” You say seriously, and Haechan sighs.

“Okay, no more being nice to each other…after tonight.” He says, and you find yourself nodding your head in response, getting him to relax again. “Do you still want me to hold you, or do you want to get dressed and head to mine?” He asks, truly not caring either way. 

You pull yourself out of his arms in response, facing the floor. “I’ll uh- get ready.”

The drive over to his place is quiet, with you staring out the window the entire time. Though, as soon as you walk through his front door, you find your words again. “I don’t regret it.” You say seriously. “And I won’t regret it when I wake up tomorrow. Or any time after that. I know I’m acting weird, but it’s not because of that. I promise.”

Haechan looks your way with a fond smile. “You aren’t acting weird, y/n. I put you through a lot today. I get it. Just come crawl into bed with me. I’ll hold you some more.” You don’t hesitate to give into his offer, though, you add it to the list of things that probably shouldn’t happen again if you don’t want to fall in love with Haechan. 

You ended up spending the entire next day with Haechan, under the reasoning that this would be the most time you guys would be able to spend together without Jessica getting suspicious. The two of you were walking back into your dorm Saturday night so that you could put your bed back together and hang out some more, figuring Haechan could just spend the night here and leave in the morning before Jessica gets back. That plan is instantly ruined when you open up the front door and see Jessica moving around in the kitchen. As quickly as you could, you shove Haechan back into the dorm hallway with one hand and slam the door behind you, praying he got the hint that Jessica was here and you didn’t just suddenly turn into a bitch. 

At the sound of the door slamming, Jessica shoots her gaze your way with a smile. “Hey, y/n!” 

You force your legs to start walking, moving towards the living room as if everything was normal. “Hey, Jess. I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow afternoon.” You say, wondering why the hell she was already here. She waves an uninterested hand in the air.

“That was the plan, but I have so much homework and my parents had a brunch planned with some of their friends so there was really no reason for me to stay another night.” 

“Ah.” You reply, trying to just sneak away to your room without any more complications. You had nearly gotten away with it, but before you can step through the open door into your room, Jessica speaks up again, making you turn back to her.

“Oh, yeah. Where are your bed sheets?” She asks, curious, and you wince.

“Uh, they’re in the dryer. I washed them.” You say neutrally, but Jessica raises an eyebrow.

“You? Washed your sheets? You never wash your sheets.” She says with a laugh.

“Yeah well, you know. Just seemed like they needed washed.” You reply, trying your best to sound normal. 

“And uh- would that have anything to do with the hickies on your neck?” She asks, and you freeze on the spot, eyes wide as you make contact with her knowing expression, praying to God she didn’t know the all of it.

“Uh- yeah you know. I might’ve hooked up with someone while you were gone.” You say, fumbling through your words. You watch as Jessica lights up.

“Who?!” 

Your throat turns dry, and you start fiddling with the rings on your fingers as you find someone to pin this on. “Johnny! You know, the kid from Chicago who takes the least amount of credit hours a semester as possible so he can spend as many years at college parties as possible? Him.” You look back up to meet Jessica’s bewildered face.

“Wow.” She replies, seeming to be incredibly amazed by your ability to pull Johnny, and you can’t even begin to imagine what she would look like if you told her you actually pulled her best friend, instead. 

“Yeah, so- I’m just gonna go grab my sheets from the dryer and go to bed. I’ve had quite the weekend and we still have all of Sunday to get through.” As soon as you finish talking, you dart to where the washer and dryer were before rushing back to your bedroom and closing the door, immediately grabbing your phone to text Haechan.

Jessica is back early! I’m sorry for slamming the door in your face, but I didn’t know what else to do.

His response comes a few minutes later, finally letting you relax again. Don’t worry, I figured that was the case. I’m already back at my place…

Though you were glad he wasn’t still outside your dorm, because he definitely couldn’t come in now, your heart struggled with the idea of him already back at his house…without you. I wish we could’ve had our extra night together. I miss you, Hyuckie.

You watch as his text bubble appears and disappears. You bite on your bottom lip, opting to start putting your bed back together to keep your mind from running. After putting one corner of your fitted sheet back on, your phone dings and you instantly move to grab it and read his message. I thought we weren’t supposed to be nice to each other.

A small smile spreads across your face. He was making fun of you. You were the one who set those boundaries in the first place. You glance from your phone to your bed and immediately know how to respond. Don’t worry. I only wish you were here so you could help me make my bed like you said you would.

There’s my y/n. You read his text over and over again. Surely he just meant it in regard to your typical personality with him, the y/n he knew. Though, the more you looked at his text, the more you knew you didn’t want him to mean it in that way, you wanted him to call you his. That’s when you knew there was no way you could respond to that message. So, you continue the task of making your bed so you could go to sleep, trying to ignore how empty it felt without him. 

Two days later, you walked back in from class to see Jessica and Haechan hanging out in your living room. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, and you quickly turn around and act like you were still fiddling with the door so you could take a moment to fix a neutral expression on your face…and prepare yourself to scowl at him once you turn back around. 

“Hey, Jess. I’m home-” You start, moving to walk towards the living room. “-oh great. You’re here.” You continue with a roll of the eyes as your gaze lands on Haechan. 

His deadpan stare looks you up and down as his nose scrunches in disgust. “Yeah, cause I was told you weren’t.”

You flash your eyebrows at him, unamused. “Well, don’t worry. I won’t be bothering you.” You state as you start on your walk to your room. Haechan calls out after you.

“You already are, sweetheart.” He says condescendingly. 

“Yeah, fuck you.” You reply back, closing the door to your bedroom and giving yourself the ability to actually breathe again.

On the couch, Jessica rubs her forehead. “You know, I thought things were actually gonna get better between the two of you after you watched Bones that one day.” She says with a small, but defeated, laugh. Haechan clears his throat awkwardly. 

“Sorry to kill your spirits, but y/n and I are not meant to be friends.” He replies in kind before quickly getting the two of them back to their conversation topic from before you walked in. 

You were getting through some homework when there was a knock at your door. Assuming it was Jessica, you throw the door open, though shock courses through you when you see Haechan, instead. He leans in to give you a soft kiss before standing straight up again, as if that type of thing was normal between the two of you. “Jessica is in the bathroom.” He says softly, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s great, but I don’t think that gives us enough time to fuck.” You respond with a laugh, though Haechan’s brows furrow.

“What? I didn’t come here for that. I came to tell you I’m sorry for being mean to you when you came in.” 

Surprise runs over your face, but it soon drops into a gentle smile. “Don’t worry about it, Hyuck. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

He rolls his eyes. “I know, but it didn’t feel good this time.” He responds, riddled with defeat, and you can’t help yourself from getting up on your tiptoes to lightly kiss him again.

You pull back quickly, facing the ground. “Hyuckie-” That’s when the sound of the bathroom door opening fills the air, and you immediately jump to lean uninterestedly against your doorframe, arms crossed in front of your body as your face falls flat. “Homework! So, can you stop annoying me just because Jessica is gone for one second and you can’t annoy her?” 

As predicted, Jessica quickly finds her way over to the two of you, eventually coming to stand at Haechan’s side. “Can’t believe I come out of the bathroom to find you talking with y/n.” She says with genuine surprise. You make concerned eye contact with her.

“Talking? More like tormenting…” You say in response.

Jessica turns to look at Haechan, nudging him slightly. “Hyuck, I would be careful about pissing her off, now. She’s got some big men on her side that can come beat you up. I mean, she hooked up with Johnny Suh.” 

Your face becomes painted with shock. “Jessica!” You yell, causing her to put her hands up in defense.

“Look, it just came out.”

Haechan makes eye contact with you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Hooked up with Johnny?! Really?” He responds, playing his part of not believing you pulled him exceptionally well.

You flash your eyebrows at him, doing your best to try and act all powerful now because you apparently hooked up with Johnny. “Yep! It was one hell of a first time.” You reply, and a soft smile is quick to adorn your face as you continue. “Not to mention he took…really good care of me after. You could learn something from him about how to treat women.” You add on, looking back up at him with a smirk. Almost all of Haechan’s body language could lead anyone to believe he hated you, didn’t give a damn about who you slept with, could hardly bother himself with this conversation at all, but his eyes were filled with fondness as he looked back at you. You inhale sharply, thankful when Haechan starts talking again to remind you of the environment you were in.

“Yeah? I’ll be sure to ask for lessons on how to tolerate you first.” He responds with a smirk of his own. Jessica finally gets fed up, rolling her eyes and grabbing Haechan by the arm to drag him away from you before you could argue any more. You almost instantly throw your homework back in your backpack, walking to the door to leave as you turn around to face them again. 

“I’m gonna head to the library since I obviously can’t get any work done here. I’ll be back later tonight.” You say with a smile aimed in Jessica’s direction. She threw a thumbs up your way along with a ‘be safe,’ and then you were out the door. 

You had just gotten to the library when your phone lit up with a text from Haechan.

I’ll pick you up from the library after Jess and I eat dinner.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, though really, you’re beyond glad he could see how much you wanted him tonight. I’d be pissed if you didn’t :) 

His response is instantaneous. Yeah, yeah. Go do your homework before I fuck you dumb <3 

Around an hour and a half later, you get a call from Haechan and you immediately stuff your laptop back into your bag before picking up the phone. “Hey, where are you sitting? I’ll come pick you up-” He starts, but you cut him off in an instant.

“Absolutely not. We cannot be seen in public together.” 

“Y/n, this isn’t some big scandal.” He replies lightly, but you shake your head, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see it.

“You’re wrong. Everyone knows we hate each other and everyone knows Jessica is our mutual. If they see us together, it’s getting back to Jessica in an instant. Tell me where you’re parked and I’ll come to you.” A small laugh accompanies your words, even more so when Haechan pouts on the other end and you can imagine it vividly.

“Fine, but you’re never allowed to complain that chivalry is dead when you’re the one causing it.” You roll your eyes, stepping out of the library and immediately seeing his car anyways. You hang up on the phone and open his passenger door to slide into your seat. “Finish all your homework like a good girl?” He asks with a smirk and you send a glare his way.

“Shut up. I finished all but one assignment. I got a little distracted.” You drag off, and Haechan lights up.

“Oh my god, did you touch yourself in the library bathrooms?”

“No!” You reply adamantly before sinking back into the passenger seat a little. “But I would’ve if I had to wait any longer. Dinner took a long time, Hyuckie.” You add with a frown, and Haechan just shakes his head in the driver’s seat. 

“God, it is taking everything in me to not throw you in the backseat and have you right here right now.”

You roll your eyes, more than aware that you couldn’t have car sex in front of the library. Instead, you place a hand on his cheek and kiss him deeply. He didn’t complain, figuring making out with you in his front seat was enough to hold him over since he couldn’t fuck you in the back seat. You let an entire song play through the radio as you indulged in Haechan’s taste, finally pulling back with a heavy breath before you could forget your morals. “Um…Please drive now so we can go home and you can undress me. I need you.”

 Haechan tries to hide his smile as he shifts into drive and places his hands back on the wheel. “Yeah, yeah. Next stop…home.”

You stumble your way inside his front door, passionate kisses getting in the way of actually walking. The second you get inside, Haechan is sliding your shirt over your head. He keeps his kisses as consistent as possible until everything actually registers in his mind and he pulls back to look you up and down, absentmindedly licking his lips. “Y/n, goddamn.”

You look down at your chest just to laugh and fix your gaze back on him. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I did some shopping.” You say offhandedly, as though your new lingerie set wasn’t killing Haechan. He finally brings himself to look back at your face, not bothering to hide how pissed he was.

“On the couch, now.” He orders, and you just roll your eyes playfully, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt to bring him along with you. In no time flat, he’s completely on top of you, kissing what seemed to be every inch of your body. Though, the second his lips land on your neck, you remember the new boundaries you had to set. 

“Hey, you can’t leave marks on my neck anymore.” 

“Oh, but Johnny can, huh?” He teases as he props himself up to make eye contact with you. 

You roll your eyes. “He was the first guy that came to mind.”

Haechan shakes his head. “I’ll make sure you can never think about another guy again.” He says with conviction, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

“God, you’re so hot.” You say through an exhale, and Haechan just laughs before moving to suck and nip at your neck again. “Hyuck, that didn’t mean you could still bruise me, baby.” 

He hums against your skin, finding a way to respond without putting too much space between your two bodies. “Can’t help it. You look so pretty, all marked up as mine.” He mumbles. You sigh, running a hand gently through his hair as he works on your chest instead. 

“Hyuckie, I’m not yours.” You say softly, trying to make sure the defeat you felt while admitting that didn’t show. Haechan freezes immediately, and when he finally finds his ability to move, it’s just to press a lingering kiss on your lips.

“Just for tonight. Be mine just for tonight.” He says, though it comes out more so as a question. You let out another small sigh, shaking your head before moving to connect your lips to his again. 

“Jessica knows I don’t do any homework past 10:00.” You tell him as you break apart. Haechan takes a moment to glance at his watch, reading the time before nodding his head softly. 

“I’ll get you back by then. Don’t worry.” From then until 9:45, Haechan spent all of his time making sure you were his that night.  

It was about two months into whatever it was that you and Haechan had gotten yourselves into. You were currently sitting in the living room. You knew Haechan was fully aware that Jessica wasn’t home, so now you were just waiting for him to burst through the front door at any moment. When he finally does, he walks to put his keys and wallet down on the counter before making his way over to where you were sitting and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Hey,” he says smoothly, causing blush to cover your face. You still weren’t used to the days where he would be more gentle with you, not that you were complaining, but it was unfamiliar nonetheless. You smile back at him, about to respond when he finally moves his gaze to assess what you’ve been up to. “Are you playing Mariokart?” He asks, and you laugh from slight embarrassment. 

“Yeah. Had to kill time while waiting for you somehow.” You say as you hit the home button to exit out, but then you notice the smallest traces of sadness cross his face, causing you to smirk. “Did you want to play?” You ask, and Haechan shoots his gaze back over to you, looking more like a boy than ever. 

“Of course I want to play!” He replies, and suddenly your laughter isn’t from embarrassment anymore. You move to grab another remote for him so the two of you could play together. You spent the next two hours playing Mariokart with him, trying to perfect all the circuits so you could collect all the best trophies, and though today’s physical touch went no further than celebratory kisses, playful shoves, and your head on his shoulder, you wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Though, it brought about a fundamental truth - you were not having passionate sex with your enemy. No, you found that you liked being around Haechan. 

The two of you had finished a quick dinner before the realization hit that Jessica would be coming back home from her night class soon. With a shared glance, you and Haechan both knew he should probably head back to his place. You reluctantly walked him to your front door, hand reaching for the knob to open it when Haechan’s hand grabbed hold of your own. You look up at him, confused, but he just stared down at you with a grin before leaning in to kiss you. “We can do this more often, too.” He says softly as he pulls back. You raise your brows in question. 

“Kiss?” You reply, trying to figure out what he was referring to. 

Haechan laughs, shaking his head and making his hair fall messily around his eyes. “No- well, yes, I always want to kiss you, but I’m talking about just hanging out. You know, playing Mariokart and all that…if you want! We don’t have to, I can just come over and immediately undress you and I wouldn’t mind that either-”

“Hyuck,” you say with a laugh, cutting him off. “We’ll hang out more, don’t worry. Besides, we still have the 200 cc circuits to beat.” 

You watch as he smiles brightly back down at you before leaning back in, this time to kiss every inch of your face and turn you into a giggling mess. “I’ll see you soon.” He says smoothly, and then he’s finally out the door and leaving you blushing profusely because you think Haechan just admitted to enjoying being around you, too. 

A couple of Fridays later, Haechan lets himself into your dorm as casually as ever when he comes over to actually hang out with Jessica. At the sound of the door closing, Jessica walks out from her room to greet Haechan, who already had his attention occupied by the new addition to your kitchen table. “Flowers? I didn’t know you could keep things alive.” He jokes as he turns around to face Jessica. She just rolls her eyes with a laugh.

“They’re not mine. Y/n bought them, and for your information, I can actually keep flowers alive way better than she can, thank you very much.” She replies, and Haechan turns back to study the bouquet again, trying to memorize them before Jessica could catch onto his actions.

“Should’ve known y/n bought them - these aren’t the prettiest flowers by a long shot.” He says with a scoff. 

Jessica shakes her head. “You should be glad she isn’t home right now to hear you say that. The bluebells in there are her favorite flower in the world.” At this, Haechan shoots his gaze back towards Jessica.

“Really?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows after the fact to try and cover up the genuine curiosity that painted his question. Jessica seems not to notice as she just nods her head, but that’s when you finally come in through the front door, and they both turn their attention towards you.

You didn’t know Haechan was going to be at your place right now, but you probably should’ve guessed with it being a Friday - if Mark and Jessica weren’t going on a solo date, their friend group typically hung out and bar hopped all together. Regardless of the fact that Jessica was there, you couldn’t bring yourself to put on a look of disgust once you saw Haechan. Instead, you were radiating off a sort of empty feeling - you weren’t really sad, just hollow, not concerned enough to fake-hate Haechan. You don’t say a single word in greeting as you just go to your room and start getting things ready for a shower. 

Haechan turns back to Jessica with raised eyebrows. “Where did she just come from?” He asks, wondering what the hell had you looking like that. 

“Ummmm, today’s Friday, right?” Jessica asks, then looking at the time. “She just got back from quantum mechanics.” She answers, and that seems to calm her worries - she would look dead every time she had to sit through quantum mechanics, too. On the other hand, Haechan’s hands balled into fists. He knew that class was with your dick of a professor, and he could only guess as to what disgusting things he threw your way this time that had you feeling so dirty you had to shower right away. 

Haechan wanted to barge into your room, wrap you in the biggest hug, and let you cry in the comfort of his arms, but he couldn’t - not with Jessica here. With every muscle in his body tensed up, he thought about the consequences of his actions should he go wrap you in a hug anyways, but that wouldn’t be fair to you. You were a part of whatever relationship the two of you had going on, and you both agreed that relationship stayed hidden. He couldn’t ruin that now without your consent.

Instead, he just looked back at Jessica flatly, flashing his eyebrows in recognition of the answer, and then quickly moved along. “Do you wanna head out to meet up with the guys?” He asks in return, and if there was any desperation in Haechan’s voice conveying how much he needed to get out of your dorm before he cracked, Jessica didn’t pick up on it. She nodded, grabbing her things, knocking on your door to let you know they were heading out, and then following Haechan out of the dorm.

Before you knew it, six months had passed since Haechan lost his dad, and you decided to surprise him with his favorite meal. It wasn’t like the two of you weren’t planning dinners/hangouts/hookups basically every day anyways, but you still wanted this one to be more lowkey, more intimate in an emotional, rather than physical, way, and a surprise dinner would do just that. You picked up his favorite takeout for the both of you before driving over to his place, pulling out your spare key to his house with excitement overtaking you as you walked in.

“Hey, Hyuckie. I’m here with din- Oh god.” Your face, along with the bag of food in your hands, instantly drops as you turn back from the closed door to his living area, only to notice him on top of another girl…his ex. Tears immediately sting at the back of your eyes, and you’re using everything in you to not let them fall down your face.

Haechan pops up as soon as you had started speaking, his eyes wide as he turns to look at you over his shoulder, and his body still straddled over his ex. “Y/n!” He yells out in shock.

His ex moves to prop herself up on her elbows, giving her a clear view of your frozen state at the door. Then, she rolls her eyes with a laugh. “Oh, I forgot she was the one getting my sloppy seconds.”

Your brows furrow. In any case, this could have been two friends grabbing dinner together. There was no way for her to so confidently say you were hooking up with her ex without him saying so. You face Haechan with betrayal covering your entire being. “So much for not kissing and telling, huh Haechan?” You spit out before walking back out of his place and slamming the door.

When you were finally outside, that’s when you gave yourself the chance to bawl your eyes out. You knew you wouldn’t be able to drive home safely without letting yourself cry beforehand. What sucked is that it gave Haechan time to fling the front door open. “Y/n-” He starts, grabbing your wrist to stop you from walking. You do your best to face away from him entirely, yanking your wrist out of his hand and cutting him off.

“Don’t touch me, Haechan!” You choke out, and he lets go immediately, regardless of the desperation on his face.

“Look I-”

You stop him again, his voice alone sending more tears down your face. You finally turn to him, slowing your words down so your voice doesn't crack, or at least, you tried to. “How long has it been going on?”

Haechan’s face and shoulders drop in unison. “This is the first time she’s been back over since the break up.” He replies softly.

You shake your head, none of it making sense and all of it hurting you. “Why…?” You had more of a question prepared, but that was all you could get out. You watch as Haechan sighs.

“I ran into her at a darty today. She approached me and started conversation. I tried not to involve myself in it, but she laughed and told me I was stupid for not wanting to talk to her because she said no one else will ever love me. And when I went to refute, I accidentally mentioned you. And she- she laughed again, telling me that I was dumb for thinking you would ever care for me, cause you hate me. And I couldn’t think of anything to say in response. And so then we ended up here.” The more he spoke, the more enraged you became. You shake your head in disgust.

“Fuck you!”

Haechan’s eyes widened. “What-”

You make sure to maintain eye contact with him as you begin to speak, though your words were broken up by your intense sobs. “You couldn’t think of anything to say against her point?! Who was the one washing off the makeup she made you put on? Who was the one telling you that the last thing you needed to do was cover up your stupid pretty face in the first place? Who was the one with a contact lens case in their bathroom so you could take them out and wear your glasses while you were over because you’re more comfortable in them? Who was the one you came to for comfort when you lost your dad-?”

“I went over to find Jessica!” He yells, cutting you off, but you don’t take any of it.

“But you stayed when you saw it was just me! Haechan-”

“Can you stop fucking calling me that?!” He pleads, tears now running slowly down his own cheeks. 

All you can do is shake your head again sadly. “I don’t understand how you could go through all of that with her and then go back to it. Do you know how idiotic I feel?! Sneaking around and lying to Jessica because I’m hooking up with her best friend, who everyone thinks I hate, by the way, behind her back. Being so euphoric from your touch that I want to tell the world but I can’t because you told me I couldn’t tell anyone, and I wasn’t gonna break that promise because I wanted to be able to keep seeing you- would do anything to keep seeing you. Thinking that maybe there was the smallest chance any of this was real to you, too. To be so upset over something I have no right to be upset about because you were never mine.”

“Y/n-” He says as gently as he could given both your states. You lose the courage to look him in the eye, instead dropping your gaze to the floor as you respond.

“I feel like an idiot, Haechan.” With that, you turn to get back in your car and go home, and Haechan doesn’t stop you. 

You continued to cry the entire drive back home, but you managed to stop the debilitating sobs, and instead soft, insistent tears just rolled down your face. You unlock the door to your house, your voice cracking as you announce your presence.

“I’m home.”

“Y/n-” Jessica starts excitedly, but then she sees your state and instantly panics. “-are you okay?! What happened?!” She continues, running up to where you stand defeated at the entryway.

“Is everything okay?” A male voice adds, and you sigh as your cries get more intense again.

“Mark is here. Of course Mark is here. Cause you guys are together and happy.” You say in a snarky response, and out of your peripheral, you see a frowning Mark take two steps back from the hug you and Jessica were encased in.

“Y/n, what is going on?” Jessica asks, more confused than ever because you’ve never been anything but happy for her and Mark. You shake your head rapidly in response.

“Nothing. You would hate me.”

Though your face was buried in her chest, you can sense her rolling her eyes. “I can assure you, I wouldn’t.” She states plainly, and though you knew she definitely would once she actually knew what was up, you took her words for what they were worth and your explanation tumbled out of your mouth.

“I’ve been hooking up with Haechan behind your back.”

Jessica immediately pulls away from the hug, making concerned eye contact with you instead. “WHAT?!”

Mark glances between the two of you, feeling incredibly like he was intruding, even more so because Haechan was his friend, too. “I’m uh- gonna go grab food!” He interjects before dashing out of the door behind you. With him gone, you continue with your explanation.

“For months, Jess. And we agreed not to tell anyone because it was just a friends with benefits thing, or enemies with benefits I guess. But it was more to me. It was real. I love him, Jessica.” The words just tumbled out of your mouth, but they were true, you knew so the second you said it. You loved Haechan.

Jessica looks at you with a frown. “So why the tears?” She asks gently, and you immediately drop your gaze to the floor, embarrassed, ashamed.

“I went over and unlocked his door with my spare key because we were gonna have dinner together.” You say slowly, your words finally coming out more even.

“Yeah?” Jessica probes when you had seemed to stop talking completely. You swallow hard, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid more tears from falling, but then you just spit it out.

“He was with his ex. On top of her. On the couch that knows my imprint.”

Jessica’s eyes widened impossibly. “Y/n-”

“Why the fuck would he do that, Jessica?” You practically shout, your rage finally mixing in with your sorrow.

Jessica just shakes her head, sucking on her bottom lip. “I don’t know.” She replies softly, and then she just holds you in silence until your tears finally stop and you move to lock yourself in your bedroom. 

Two days later, when there’s a knock on your door, you assume Jessica is there to try and get you to eat something again. You slump over to open your bedroom door, already preparing how to tell Jessica you still couldn’t imagine stomaching food yet, when instead, it’s Haechan’s worried gaze meeting yours. Your eyes widen, stinging with tears already, but you can’t bring yourself to close the door just yet - maybe it was the fact that he was in his glasses, goddamned skinny jeans, and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Y/n, it was the worst mistake of my life.” He says sincerely, and you drop your gaze to the floor.

“What? Getting together with me or her?” You ask with venom.

His response is instantaneous. “With her. Obviously!”

“You sure? You sure she doesn’t love you more than I do?” You spit back angrily, daring to look him in the eyes once again just to glare at him.

The sadness in his face neutralizes in an instant, and he stares back at you with wide eyes. “You- do you- do you love me?” He asks hesitantly in response, and the tears you’d been holding back fell freely now.

“I’m not fucking putting myself through this.” You respond defeatedly, and you immediately close the door in his face, running to bundle up in bed in a mess of tears. 

When you finally step out of your room again to grab a water bottle, you’re met with the bouquet Haechan had in his hands now laying on the counter. You walk up to it, reading the sticky note now attached. 

This was the only bouquet they had with bluebells…I know they’re your favorite. Coincidentally, one of their meanings is forgiveness (according to the flower shop guy, at least). There’s nothing I want more than your forgiveness. Y/n, I messed up so bad, I know, I’m sorry. I never should have done that. I don’t know why I did that, not when you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m sorry I never made you mine when I really had the chance. I was terrified you didn’t feel for me the way I do for you, but now I know how stupid that was. You’re the only one to ever care for me the way you do, and if you decide that what I did was too terrible, just know you’ll forever be my standard…my beautiful, incomparable standard.

When Jessica walked in through the front door after grabbing lunch with Mark, she found you still standing there in the kitchen, looking down on the now tear-stained note as your body still shook with sobs. 

She walked over to the counter, silently sliding the note away from where it laid in front of you to read it herself. From your right, you hear her sigh and she’s quick to put down the note and wrap you in a hug instead. You stay crying in her arms for what you felt had to be too long, but she never said a word about it if it was. 

Your days quickly started to blur, all of them feeling the same as you would drag yourself to class and then back home, with no extra plans to ever keep you occupied or active. You were currently on the couch, sweats adorning your figure, Bones on the TV, and a pint of ice cream in your hands. You had given up on trying - no longer caring about nice outfits or makeup, hardly eating anything of actual substance. As long as you had enough energy to sit through class, you considered it a win. It was after dinner time when Jessica got back from one of her dates with Mark, closing the front door to turn around and see you as her face falls. 

“Hey…how are you?” She asks lightly, walking over to where you sat in the living room.

You don’t move your gaze away from the TV, or more so, the ice cream you were eating. “Fine. Why?” You reply monotonously, and Jessica looks at you defeatedly.

“Because sweetheart, it’s been two months and you’re still devouring pints of icecream at a time on our couch.”

“I don’t like life without him.” You spit out in reply, though your voice is weak, and the more you thought about how true the statement was, the closer you got to tears. 

Jessica reaches over to brush some of your hair back from where it covered your face, making sure the two of you could make eye contact. “I know. He feels the same way, you know?”

“You’re just saying that.” You snap back instantly, but Jessica shakes her head.

“No, I’m not. I wouldn’t do that to you. Every time I go over to his place, he looks almost exactly like you do. He keeps beating himself up, saying he should’ve stuck to his plan for your birthday, that everything would’ve worked out perfectly if he knew you at least tolerated him before he indulged in your physical attractiveness.”

This finally gets your attention, and your face fills with confusion, feeling something other than sadness for the first time in two months. “Wh- what do you mean his plan for my birthday?”

Jessica seems surprised at the question. “Oh, I thought he would’ve told you. He was gonna pick you up from class and walk you back here so he could wish you a happy birthday.” 

In an instant, all of the color drains from your face again. “Why didn’t he?”

“I don’t know. He never told me.” Jessica answers seriously, now cementing the idea you had in your mind of what happened, everything clicking into place.

You finally speak again after what felt like forever of silence, your brain going 100 miles an hour. “...Do you know where he is now?” You ask seriously, and Jessica doesn’t hide her shock at your change in behavior.

“No, but I can find out. You okay?” She asks, and you just shake your head.

“No. No, not at all.” You reply, and you’re already up off the couch, rushing to put the pint of ice cream away and change into nicer clothes as Jessica texts Haechan, who just so happened to be at home…because his daily routine practically reflected yours over the past two months.

You knock harshly on his door, pacing back and forth as you wait for him to answer, nerves coursing through your entire being. After what felt like a lifetime, the door cracks open, and all of your movements pause. At first, it’s hardly open enough to see him at all, and you gulp back your awkwardness. “What do you-” He starts quietly, but he quickly recognizes you from the tiny view he allowed himself, and suddenly the door is swung wide open. “Y/n?” 

You stare up at him, heart melting at the sight. He was in a big hoodie and wearing his glasses, making the corners of your mouth perk up in a smile. Though, the smile quickly drops as you take in the rest of his features. Jessica was right, he looked as bad as you. To be fair, he was still the most attractive man alive, but he had dark circles around his eyes, and he looked as though he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. 

You lick your lips, which were now noticeably dry, building the courage to speak as you did so. “You were gonna pick me up from class on my birthday?”

His eyes go wide as he moves his gaze away from you for the first time since he opened the door. “I-”

“Hyuck.” You cut him off, staring up at him intently and getting him to crack with a huff of breath.

“Yeah…yeah I was. Jessica said it was your birthday. And we still weren’t friends then, but I would’ve felt bad not at least wishing you a happy birthday. So I texted Jessica to see where you were and decided I would just walk you back from class. And I-” He breaks off with a faint laugh as he recalls the memory. “I put on a pair of skinny jeans beforehand because I figured even if you hated me, you found me at least a little more tolerable in skinny jeans. Then I went to go pick you up. When you didn’t come out with the rest of your class, I went inside the lecture hall to see what was up or if I just missed you somehow. That’s when I saw you talking to your professor. That’s when I heard his comments. You weren’t even in anything close to scandalous anyways. You just dressed up for your birthday. You were pretty. That was it, so I figured it wasn’t a one-off thing. How you handled it made me think it wasn’t the first time for it to happen, either. You could barely see your wince. The same couldn’t be said for me, though. I was mad, fuming. I got out of there as soon as I could so that I’d be out of sight by the time you got out. If you saw me and started a conversation, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from bringing it up. God, I was so angry, and I figured that wasn’t what you wanted on your birthday.” He faced the ground while he spoke, but you studied his figure the entire time, your eyes finding their home as they landed on Haechan again after all this time. You hardly let him finish his last word before you speak up.

“Tell me you want to kiss me.” You say, and Haechan finally whips his head back up to face you, eyes wide in surprise. “Tell me you want to kiss me and have it mean something outside of these walls.”

“What?!” He responds, visibly thrown off. You don’t have the patience for it.

“Hyuck!” You say, and Haechan seems to come back to the moment, nodding his head rapidly.

“I do! I want to kiss you. Always.” 

The biggest of smiles overtakes your face as you press up on your tiptoes to finally lock your lips with his again. One of his hands immediately flew to your waist, while the other placed itself lightly on the side of your face, holding you as though one harsh movement would cause this moment to break, this dream to end. When you pull back for air, Haechan wastes no time. “Y/n, please be my girlfriend. Please be mine. Please let me tell the entire world that you’re mine.” He says, his intonation practically making it a beg. 

You nod your head before digging it into his chest in a tight hug. “I’m yours.” 

[junkdrawerfics]

hiya! could you write a jasper fic where the reader meets the major? i'm obsessed with how you write for jasper 🥺

A Major Moment

Summary: Takes place in Breaking Dawn, when all the covens show up to be witnesses for the Cullens. Jasper is worried about you being around so many vampires, especially when he starts to feel like he's losing control. When an incident does occur, the Major steps in to save the day. But you have no clue what's happening.

Words: 2456

Note: I'm alive! And writing again. This work gave me so much trouble before I took my break, but I'm pretty happy with it! I hope you like it, thank you for the request!

---

“I don’t like you bein’ here,” Jasper murmurs stiffly, leaning against the doorway to your shared room.

“I know, Jazz, but I’m worried about what’ll happen if I’m not here.” You pull on your coat, turning to meet his concerned gaze. It makes you soften and you give him a gentle smile, “You think I haven’t noticed how tense you’ve been lately, huh mister?”

Jasper’s lips press into a thin line, a wrinkle forming between his brows. Of course you noticed. 

It started the moment Alice had the vision of the Volturi coming for their family. He felt it, in the back of his mind. That slight pull. The need to feel in control. Him. 

Jasper was used to it. He had plenty of practice holding him back, only letting the edges fray enough to help. Like when they fought the newborn army, or when the two of you and Alice had fled with Bella from the hunter. He could control it. He had to.

You were never meant to meet that part of him, the one with stained hands and war-driven convictions. You were too soft for that side of him, too…breakable. So Jasper did everything in his power to keep him out of it, locked away deep in the recesses of his mind.

But then their allies started to appear and something shifted. The pull turned into a dull pressure in his chest, like a beast pressing at the bars of its cage. Snarling, vicious, protective. He could feel it as he watched you interact with them, oblivious to the danger, the hunger he could feel radiating from all of them. It set his teeth grinding.

“You shouldn’t trust ‘em, darlin,” the blond warns you, voice almost a growl.

“They’re our allies, Jazz,” you remind him softly, curling your arms around his waist. The vampire is tense, tenser than usual. You prop your chin against his chest, wide eyes squinting. “Plus I have you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they’re all pretty intimidated by you. They won’t try anything.”

That does give him a strange sense of satisfaction. While he considers most of these people friends, he knows that he won’t be able to control himself if one of them touches you. The family had made it clear. You’re off limits. Every human in Forks is off limits. Still-

“Hey.” You pinch his ribs, making Jasper jump. Those gold eyes flicker back down to you questioningly. You shake your head, giggling, “Stop worrying! I’m fine, they’re fine, everything will turn out okay. You can relax, Jazz, I’m safe.”

The stiffness lasts for only a few moments before Jasper gives in and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. He’s always had trouble resisting you, especially when you radiate such warmth. There’s no doubt, no hesitation in your emotions. Just complete and utter certainty in him.

The beast goes quiet, if only for a moment.

A moment that disappears as soon as you join the covens downstairs.

The room is tense, filled with quiet, murmured conversations. They’re all on edge. Though they were all asked to come only to be witnesses before the Volturi, the expectation of a battle still hangs over the house.

You flicker among them, sparking conversation, making jokes, trying to just lighten the mood. It’s the least you can do to help. And this way you don’t feel so useless. If it does come down to a fight, that is exactly what you’ll be. You’re only human after all.

Jasper lingers along the wall, never taking his eyes off of you. 

It’s in moments like this he wishes he could turn his ability off. Every anxiety, every twitch of impatience, the collection of unspoken concern, he feels it all. It’s like walking through a fog so thick you can barely see. It's suffocating.

And he can feel him again. Prowling along the edges of his mind. Looking for just the right moment to-

A sharp gasp makes Jasper flinch. The smell of blood, your blood, hits him, and for a split second, his focus falters.

Enough for his control to slip.

---

You can barely process it.

One moment, you’re clutching your bleeding hand to your chest, fear freezing you to the ground as you watch a man lunge for you, teeth bared in a snarl.

The next moment, that same man is crashing through the wall of windows, the sound of shattering glass ringing through the air. The whole room goes dead silent.

Jasper stands in his place, drawing back to his full height, face a mask of impassivity, eyes alight with a rage that makes everyone recoil. It pours off of him, fills the room like the static before the storm. 

Your breath freezes in your lungs when he turns to you. It feels like one wrong move could set him off. On what? You don’t know. But you stay stock still as his eyes trace over you slowly. They catch on the blood oozing out between your fingers, the ones you desperately press against your wound. Something dark flashes across his face, his jaw clenching.

“Upstairs.”

Your heart lurches to your throat, wariness and confusion flooding your chest. His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, accent thicker. An alarm goes off in your head.

When you don’t move, though, Jasper reaches for your arm, grip just shy of bruising.

“I said - upstairs.”

Before you can even get a word out, he’s dragging you in that direction, so fast you can barely keep up without stumbling. Glancing to the Cullens, you silently beg for some kind of help. You have no clue what’s going on. But the family just watches on as if they’ve seen this all before. Except Bella, who looks just as confused as you feel.

Your attention is forced back to staying upright when you reach the stairs. Jasper doesn’t slow down for even a second, not until you reach your room and he practically throws you inside. In an instant, you’re backed against a wall, his tall frame eclipsing yours.

“Show me,” he demands, voice low, barely restrained.

“What?” You squeak, eyes wide, heart racing. Something’s wrong.

“Show me your hand.”

You tighten your hold unconsciously. Panic grips you like a noose around your lungs. 

“I don’t- I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jazz,” you croak out. There’s too much blood.

Jasper’s eyes narrow, “And I don’t appreciate repeatin’ myself, sugar.”

“But-”

“Now.”

Flinching, you instantly offer him your hand. Even if it’s a bad idea, you don’t want to test this side of him. Something tells you that he could force you to if he wanted to and this is him being nice. 

You hold your breath when he takes your wrist, waiting for whatever’s going to happen next. Jasper’s never had an easy time controlling himself around your blood. You’ve worked on it, but this is too much, too sudden and you can’t help but brace for more pain.

But the seconds tick by and…nothing. You peek an eye open slowly. The blond moves with practiced ease, checking your pulse, carefully examining the edges of the gash, as if the blood isn’t even there.

Something’s different. Everything’s different. How he holds himself, the way he dragged you up here, his voice. And his eyes. It’s hard to not stare at them. Their usual gold depths are dark as amber, still burning with something completely violent, bloody and crimson and unnervingly calm. 

You’ve never once seen Jasper like this.

“What’s going on Jazz?” You ask, voice pitching up.

The vampire pauses, hard gaze flickering up to yours. You almost flinch, instincts screaming at you that being at the center of this man’s attention is dangerous. It feels like any moment that rage could turn on you, like a wolf, bloody maw ready to clamp around your neck.

“Are you scared, darlin’?” His voice is a low rumble, softer than before, but still rough, dark.

Swallowing thickly, you look down at your hands, head spinning. He quickly covers the cut on your palm, careful not to touch it, but keeping it from your eyes, as if he knows the sight of blood makes you dizzy. It’s at odds with everything else about him right now and it makes you think that your Jasper must still be there somewhere. The worst of your nerves fizzle out.

“I don’t know,” you whisper eventually, and his eyes narrow, “I don’t- I don’t understand what’s going on, or why you’re acting different, but I don’t think you’re trying to scare me. So..so, no, I don’t want to be.”

The man hums, lips pursing into a thin line as he goes back to examining your palm, “No tellin’ if that’s foolishness or courage.”

“Maybe both.” Your voice is still shaking. Taking a deep breath, you try again with a different question, “So who are you? Cause I don’t think you’re Jasper, at least not completely.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, you watch as he steps back, disappearing into the bathroom for only a moment before reappearing with your first aid kit, the one you keep here for emergencies. With that same, practiced ease, the blond pulls out the supplies he needs and starts cleaning your wound.

“Most call me Major Whitlock.”

You hiss as he swipes alcohol over the cut. It stings almost as much as the wound itself, scattering your thoughts. The Major mumbles an apology, but doesn’t pause in his movements. It’s methodical, how he cleans it, applies some ointment, and then bandages it. Like he’s done it be-

Oh.

His words finally process in your mind. Major Whitlock. Jasper told you about him once, back when you first asked him about his scars. The man he was before you, before the Cullens. The man he had to be to deal with all that death. The Major.

“I never thought I’d meet you,” you murmur, all but forgetting your apprehension in the wave of curiosity that washes over you. 

“He never wanted you to,” the Major replies stiffly, taping off the wrap, “He’s scared I’ll hurt you.”

Brow furrowing, you glance down at your bandaged hand. It’s perfectly done and you can barely feel any more pain. Thanks to him.

“I can’t see why he’d think that,” you hum, head tilting, “You don’t seem all that dangerous to me.”

Wrong thing to say.

A sharp, unexpected tug on your wrist makes you squeak. The Major draws you flush to his chest, close enough that you can see the flecks of molten gold in his eyes and feel his cool breath against your face. It makes you freeze, hands trapped between your bodies, unable to do anything as he leans down, lips tauntingly close to yours.

“You shouldn’t be so naive, sugar,” he drawls, voice a low rasp. “You wouldn’t think so kindly of me if you knew what’s goin’ through my mind.”

Like how he wishes he had ripped the arms off the man downstairs for even thinking about touching you. Or how the scent of your blood makes him want to pin you against the wall and sink his teeth into your neck. He wants to know if you taste as cloyingly sweet as you smell. 

“I’m still not scared of you,” you whisper, blinking up at him with wide, doe-ish eyes, cheeks painted a tempting shade of red. “I know you won’t hurt me, Major.”

You trust him. He can feel it radiating from you, soft and warm and simple. It makes something violently possessive curl in the Major’s chest. You were right, after all. He would do anything to protect you, like a feral dog at your heel - loyal even if it killed him. He and Jasper could agree on that, as much as he might not want to admit it.

“You really are somethin’, sugar,” he muses, grip softening. There was no point in trying to scare you any further. You were a stubbornly sweet thing.

You offer him a shy smile, “Thank you. And thanks for saving me.”

The Major nods. “It was my pleasure.” 

He pauses, lips pursing. You watch as his gaze flickers over your face, something you can't pinpoint crossing his features. Then-

“Can I kiss you, sugar?”

You almost laugh. It’s a ridiculous question at this point, but it’s just so Jasper that you can’t help but grin. Guess he’s always been like this.

“If you want,” you hum.

And he does.

It’s not like any of the kisses you’ve shared before, not soft or gentle. Jasper has always been too scared of hurting you, but the Major holds onto you like a starving man. He pulls you impossibly closer, fingers threading through your hair to tilt your head just the right way. It’s hard and insistent but still achingly tender and perfect.

You’re left breathless when he pulls away. Not too far though. He rests his forehead against yours, taking the moment to focus on the sound of your heart and the comforting warmth of your touch. It softens the snarling creature that he’s meant to be.

You can feel the shift. The way his touch turns gentle, hands shifting to hold your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheeks. You can practically feel the concern that fills his gaze.

“Hey Jazz,” you breathe out softly.

He doesn’t respond. You glance up at him, amusement flickering in your chest at the perplexed look on his face. There’s your Jasper.

“I’m fine, Jazz,” you insist. It’s easy to tell exactly what he’s thinking. The vampire frowns, glancing at the bandage covering your hand. Right. You correct yourself, “I’m fine now. The Major saved me and bandaged me up. Good as new.”

You wiggle your fingers, just to show him. It stings a little, but not nearly as much as before. 

“He did a good job, almost as good as Carlisle!”

“He-” Jasper stops, swallows. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. Nothing happened.” You wrap your arms around his waist. It’s just like before. He holds himself stiff for a moment, fighting between the urge to relax or push you away to a safe distance. But he still can’t resist you. Not now. Not ever.

The tension drips from his shoulders. Jasper curls an arm around you, voice muffled as he tucks his face into your hair, “Sorry if I scared you, darlin’. I should’ve known that would happen. I just want you safe.”

“I know,” you hum, “And I wasn’t scared. Not really. Though, the Major sure has his own way of doing things. Charming guy, really.”

You can feel Jasper smile into your hair, “You really are something, darlin.”

“That’s what he said!”

---

You cannot convince me that the Major is not still a gentleman at his core! He's a bit rough from his time with Maria, but he was such a kind man before that. I will die on this hill.

Anyways! Hope you guys liked it! I might be a bit rusty, but feel free to send in requests! I'm excited to write for y'all again.

[mangotangerine]

what if ozzie created hell's version of ao3 and then radiostatic became one of the most popular ships but alastor didn't find out because ew, technology, until one day he did, but the top 69 fics are written by the same person & have incredibly realistic aspects that only one other person in hell would know

well, i wrote it. see below the cut for what i have so far

vox writes fanfic (and his username is alastors_babygirl)

Alastor goes nearly a century without acquiring any of those ridiculous, overdesigned electronic devices that the rest of Hell rots their brain with.

×

Things have been odd as of late. Angel Dust has been giving him strange looks—not the usual objectifying leer meant to evoke discomfort, but something more inquisitive—and Niffty has taken to giggling every time he walks past that tacky television they keep in the lounge. It hadn’t bothered him at first, as Angel Dust has always been a strange fellow, and Niffty is… well, Alastor isn’t sure if even she understands her own whimsy, sometimes.

But now, it’s getting a bit out of hand.

“Niffty, my dear,” Alastor says, “I have a question for you.”

She giggles, likely because he is standing next to the television. She manages to get it under control, though he can still hear the laughter in her voice as she says, “Yes?”

He glances pointedly at the television, then back at Niffty, and her grin widens. She kicks her feet and covers her mouth to hold back the giggles that threaten to erupt, and Alastor sighs. He is not going to get satisfying answers from her. “Never mind,” he says, weary. “Perhaps Charlie knows.”

×

Charlie blushes a bright red and flips her phone face-down in a panic, when he finally asks her in her office.

“Um—um, well…” she trails off, body language broadcasting her discomfort.

“This is getting tiring,” Alastor says, letting irritation bleed into his voice. “Despite my confidence that it is not the case, because who would be so foolish, I feel as though I’m being mocked. It is quite unpleasant.”

“No! No no no!” she squeaks. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…” she takes a deep breath. “The fan fiction.”

“The what now?” Alastor asks, eyebrows furrowing.

She bites her lip, glancing down at her phone. “Asmodeus um… launched this new website,” she starts, and Alastor wrinkles his nose in disgust. Ugh, not this nonsense again. “And, well… people write stories on it about... about media or things they’re fans of. Like—like use the characters and setting, and… andyou’rethemostpopularship,” she says in a rush.

Alastor looks down at himself, and then back up at Charlie. “I didn’t take you for the type to be critical of somebody’s figure, regardless of the inaccuracy of your statement,” he says, clearly disappointed, and Charlie gasps.

“No! Ship—ship, like relationship! Not—I would never.” She’s offended now, frowning at him. “Why would you think I’d—”

“Please, Charlie,” Alastor says sharply, “Explain to me in plain language.”

She bites her lip, then shrinks a little in her seat. “Sometimes people… um, write stories about people, who they think would be good in a relationship… like romance stories.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Alastor snaps.

“You’re the top—you’re the um, most popular, uh, ship. Relationship. Well, not just you, it takes two—anyway.” She stops, and smiles at him nervously.

“Who is the second party in this ‘relationship’ involving myself?” he asks, eyes narrowed.

When she tells him, he very politely demands to be shown this website, and she meekly flips her phone over and slides it toward him. He looks through it, smile fading slowly until it’s just a barely-there quirk of the lips. “Who?” he asks, unable to hide the venom in his voice. “Who is writing these?”

“Many—many people, Alastor. It’s—there’s—I, I mean, you see how many stories!” she squeaks.

“Do you read the ones where I’m involved with your father?” he asks, suspicious, as he points at the device. She gasps.

“No!” Charlie practically yells. “No, I do—I do not read sex stories about my—”

“Sex stories?” Alastor asks, voice thick with radio distortion, and she covers her mouth in horror at her own mistake.

“I—I mean, not all of them are—I mean, there are a ton that are just—and not just with my dad, but with—you know, him, and they’re—they’re so sweet, Alastor!”

The exhaustion is settling in his bones now, his ever-present smile twisted into a sardonic grimace. “I fail to understand how there can be any stories involving me and that—that walking billboard that are sweet.”

“Well, um…” she hesitates, nervous. “You could… you could read some?”

“I will most certainly not be doing that,” he says. “I will be going now. I appreciate your transparency, as painful as the information was to extract from you.”

Alastor leaves with his signature flourish, melting into the shadows.

×

He goes a week before he folds, though he has one of those egg creatures Sir Pentious left behind procure an electronic device for him instead of trying to find one himself. He then commands it to demonstrate how to navigate to that vapid archive of obscenities everyone seems so enraptured by.

Though there are a lot of these creepy little stories, and just as many writers, the most popular of these ‘fan fiction’ novellas are all written under the same pen name and have very specific personal details that only one other person in Hell would know.

Well, he supposes it has been quite a while since he’s gone to terrorize that tower in person. Why, he’s been positively angelic since his return to the public sphere. It’s time to pay his old friend a visit.

×

He could go in the front door, cause a scene, really ham it up for Vox’s pervasive cameras, but that’s too easy. Too predictable, and what sort of performer would he be if he didn’t improvise and change things up a bit?

Alastor materializes in Vox’s office, behind his chair. He is, unfortunately, not alone, as Alastor had hoped. Startled, Velvette screams, and Alastor turns to blink at her owlishly.

“Was that really necessary?” he asks.

Vox spins around in his chair so fast it keeps spinning, makes 3 revolutions before Vox manages to stop it. Alastor looks Vox up and down, nose wrinkled in distaste.

“I just greased it!” Vox says defensively. “It doesn’t do that all the time, I can—I can control my chair!”

“Why is he here?” Velvette hisses, and Vox points menacingly at Alastor.

“Yeah! Why is he—why are you here?”

Alastor inhales deeply, and lets out a slow, disappointed sigh. “We need to talk.”

“Get out of my fucking tower,” Vox snaps.

“I’d love to,” Alastor says, “as soon as you answer some questions about the creepy little love stories you’ve been writing online.”

Vox blanches, as much as a television screen can blanch—that is, his face turns greyscale, reminding Alastor very distinctly of the picture shows his mother used to take him to as a child. It’s very amusing, on Vox.

“Velvette, get out,” Vox orders, voice sharp. The color slowly bleeds back into his face, one pixel at a time.

Velvette gets up, looking like she’s about to argue, when Alastor turns to face her directly, twirling his microphone in hand as his smile grows.

“Fine, fuck you,” she spits, and makes her way out.

Then it’s just Alastor and Vox. Vox and Alastor. Two old friends. Two old buddies. Pals. Former pals. Ex-partners.

“I can explain,” Vox says, panicked.

“Oh,” Alastor says, sounding delighted. “You’re admitting to it so easily? Usually you’re more difficult than that.”

“Fuck,” Vox groans.

[sansaorgana]

hii 😊 can you please write benny x yn where she thinks he’s a player so she doesn’t want to give him a chance and go on a date with someone else and that drives him crazy and he does everything for her to see him differently, even asks kathy to put in a good word for him

hi! 💝 I know you sent it like 2 hours ago – I swear, I am not insane but I was itching so badly to write something about Benny that... it's already here 👀 as much as I adore the fics with innocent, sweet Readers – my Reader talks back 😇🤭 I hope it's fine 😘

[ I haven't abandoned the three requests from my inbox from the last time, I promise ]

requests for benny are open 🥺🎀

Benny Cross was an insufferable guy. He was showing up at your diner nearly every day and always asking for the same thing with the same smug smile on his pretty full lips – and always getting your annoyed eye-rolls each time. Yeah, he was pretty and you wouldn’t deny that. And yeah, you could see why so many girls saw the appeal. Bad boys were in fashion now… Well, actually, where had they not been? But you didn’t want to end up as a girl in trouble. Perhaps you were just an ordinary waitress but you still didn’t want to ruin your life for a player. And you couldn’t understand why he wanted you so badly.

“I think it’s because you turned him down,” Kathy explained to you the other day. She was your friend and recently she had also been strangely associated with Benny’s motorbike gang – The Vandals. Ever since her breakup, you could not recognise her, honestly.

“I turned him down, exactly,” you emphasised. “Why can’t guys learn that no means no?” You sighed.

“Oh, please, it must feel… Flattering to be chased by a guy like Benny, right?” Kathy giggled and you looked away, trying not to reveal that yeah, she was right.

“Listen, I just don’t want to end up like my cousin. She had a one night stand with this bad boy at college and guess what? She had to drop out, now she’s a single baby mama and the guy? God only knows where. Some say he married another chick in Nevada,” you explained to Kathy.

“But you’re not in college,” she pointed out as her eyes widened and you just rolled your eyes.

Jesus, what was going on with her these days?

You couldn't know that it was Benny himself telling her to "spread the propaganda" so you'd be more willing to finally agree to go out with him. You couldn't know that you were driving this man crazy – driving him crazier than his motorbike. He would wake up at night all sweaty and all he could think about was you.

You were a tough cookie and you were a challenge – that was for sure. But Benny knew it was more than that. He already knew that his desire would not disappear after claiming you. In fact, it would only grow once he'd get a taste. He was serious about you and he was desperate for you to see it.

When Marcus Lane asked you out, you were speechless. You were walking out of a flower store with a fresh bouquet to put on your grandfather’s grave and he whistled at you.

You turned around and raised an eyebrow at the guy leaning on his car. And God, what a car that was… A shiny, black Cadillac that made your eyes sparkle.

“Hi!” You waved at him. “You’re back from college,” you pointed out.

“Yeah,” he nodded at you and lit a cigarette. He offered you one but you shook your head. “Couldn’t wait to visit my neighbourhood. I’m staying with my ma until the end of summer,” he explained. “Then I got a job for myself in New York City,” he bragged so casually.

You had always thought he was full of himself and full of shit, too, but out of all the guys in your high school year he had been the one who would succeed most likely. Apparently, it was true. He was going places.

“And how’s Camilla?” You asked him.

“We broke up,” he winced. “What you doing tonight?”

You blinked a few times and fixed your skirt. Marcus Lane asking you out?

“Nothin’,” you answered and tilted your head.

“Wanna go and see a picture?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah!” You nodded, not even asking what picture.

“Still living with your ma?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he winked at you and you only nodded at him before walking away, not being able to hide a smile.

On your way back from the graveyard, you stopped by the laundry to tell Kathy the news but she didn’t look excited.

“He’s a knobhead, isn’t he? Always has been,” she shook her head.

“Wow, gee, thanks for being happy for me! You know he’s goin’ places and… He’s gonna be somebody,” you couldn’t help a grin.

“Don’t even start,” Kathy put her hands on her hips but you kept on a dreamy expression, so she snapped her fingers right in front of your face. “Guys like Marcus Lane do not date girls like us, wake up.”

“Why would he ask me out then?” You got defensive because your feelings and pride were hurt – mostly because you had a feeling Kathy was right.

“Because he’s back for the summer and bored? He saw you and thought he could play with you for a while before he leaves forever? Because he thinks a silly girl he remembers from high school might be an easy fuck for the summer?” Kathy asked and asked as your anxiety grew.

“Wow, thanks,” you got angry because you hated how right she could be. And sometimes you hated how honest she was instead of feeding your delusions. “I’m going out with him tonight and I’m not gonna sleep with him,” you told her before walking out to go back home and prepare for the night.

You wore a red polka dot top and tight jeans for the date instead of a dress. Marcus didn’t comment but he looked a little disappointed and you could see that on his face. He kept staring at your thighs as he drove you to the cinema, which increased your anxiety that Kathy could had been right indeed… More than you had expected.

You went to see Bonnie and Clyde and after the movie, Marcus insisted on taking you to a club in the neighbourhood. It was one of those places you would never go to alone but with a man around, you felt safer. At least you should feel this way. But something about Marcus was not right. Why would a proper guy like him even want to take you to a club like that? Perhaps because he was seeing you as a girl like that. You didn’t disagree, though. The idea of getting free drinks was tempting.

“Looks like some of those dirty bums have a meeting here tonight,” he murmured to himself as you walked inside and you sighed at the sight of The Vandals themselves.

The whole place was full of cigarette smoke and it stank of sweat, leather and grease.

“I hate those punks,” Marcus winced. “Sit here, I’ll get us something to drink,” he winked at you as he sat you down by one of the tables and you nodded,

He walked away, without even asking you what you wanted. You looked around, feeling out of place and then you spotted him… Benny Cross by the pool table. You quickly looked the other way but he glanced in your direction and smirked.

You pretended to be very fascinated by the posters on the wall but he sat by the table next to yours and kept grinning at you with his flashy smile, his muscles all on display as he rested his arms on the chair’s backrest.

Seeing you there, it made his heart skip a beat. And those tight blue jeans, that red top... Benny was smug for a moment, thinking that you finally decided to hang out with him. He had been inviting you to this club many times before.

However, he quickly realised that you weren' there alone. And the guy you came with made him feel sick in his stomach. Not only because he looked like a typical piece of shit that would take advantage of a girl like you... But also because this guy represented everything that Benny was not. And it was making him feel insecure at the moment. Of course your standards were higher than a guy like him. That was one of the reasons why he liked you so much.

Still, he decided to play his little game and annoy you a little.

Marcus came back with two drinks in his hand and he looked Benny up and down before placing a drink in front of you.

“That punk bothering you?” He asked – quite bravely, you had to admit. But Benny remained the same as if he was a statue.

“For weeks now,” you chuckled and watched Marcus take a seat in front of you, still glancing angrily at Benny on your right. 

“Is he stupid or somethin’?” Marcus asked.

“It’s fine. Let’s just pretend he’s not here,” you shrugged your arms.

In fact, you enjoyed it. And you wanted to pretend to like Marcus more than you did so Benny would finally realise you were not interested.

Still… You couldn’t help an odd feeling of safety now when he was sitting next to you and some part of you didn’t want him to walk away and leave you alone with Marcus.

“So, what do you think about the movie?” Marcus asked and sipped on his drink as you sipped on yours. Benny raised an eyebrow at you.

“We were in the cinema to watch Bonnie and Clyde,” you informed him quickly as if he was in the audience and you were an actress in the theatre but he was late and you wanted him to catch on. He nodded his head like a little boy and Marcus gritted his teeth. “Well,” you addressed your date now as you fixed your hair nonchalantly. “I adored it. And Warren Beatty was beautiful as always.”

“I don’t like him,” Marcus commented. “And I didn’t like the movie much. My favourite part was when they got killed.”

“Why?” You asked. It was already getting difficult to pretend to like him. And Benny seemed to be interested by his answer too – he tilted his head.

“Because they were outlaws and a couple of twisted psychos!” Marcus got irritated – at Benny still being there and at you asking such silly questions with such obvious answers.

“Yeah, they were but there’s also some romanticism to it, don’t you think? That’s why they made a movie about them. And why did you even go to see a movie about people you despise so much?” You asked and sipped on your drink again.

“You can’t be serious. There’s nothing romantic about murdering people,” Marcus started sounding very patronising and you suddenly realised that Kathy had been right. So, so much. You were a silly girl in his eyes.

“Murdering – no. But the life they had. The love, the freedom on the road,” you tried to explain.

“You want freedom on the road? Ask one of those bums here to show you,” Marcus laughed with irony and he squinted his eyes at Benny. “What you still doing here, punk? How can I get it into your thick head that you’re not a part of this conversation? It’s my date,” he scoffed.

“It’s my girl,” Benny leaned back with a smug smile and your heart skipped a beat.

Usually, when he’d call you that, you would get angry. But now, when Marcus had been annoying you for the whole evening, you actually enjoyed that. Because Marcus’ face was priceless. He looked at you with disgust.

“Is this true?” He asked you. “What the hell is going on?”

But before you could answer, some drunk and loud biker entered the club loudly as he laughed out loud.

“Fuck, I’ve scratched some Cadillac in the front!” He announced and sat by the counter to order beer. You couldn’t help but chuckle at that and Marcus’ face went as red as tomato.

He stood up rapidly, gave you a furious look and then ran outside to check on his beloved car, surely. Not caring much about the fact he was leaving you alone with dangerous men swarming around.

“So…” Benny started lazily as he licked his lips before looking you up and down. “That’s your type?” He pointed his thumb at the door Marcus had just left through. “That why you didn’t want me to take you out?”

“Why did you do that?” You asked, genuinely and his face got serious now.

“I saw you sittin’ here all alone, for a moment I thought… You came here for me,” he admitted with a laugh. “Then I saw that guy and I thought to myself: Jesus, what an asshole. So, I wanted to watch,” he shrugged his arms and you couldn’t help but stare at the flexing muscles and all the tattoos.

“He’s a proper guy. Graduated from college and with a job waiting for him in New York City,” you explained.

“But you’re not a proper girl,” Benny pointed out with a grin and you suddenly got a flashback of Kathy telling you the same thing – that you were just a silly girl for Marcus, just an easy fuck for the summer… 

You stood up rapidly and Benny looked up with a confused look on his face but you ignored him and left the club, hoping Marcus was still there and you could explain to him that you weren’t Benny’s girl… Maybe he’d drive you home?

But Marcus wasn’t there anymore. The only vehicles in the parking lot were motorbikes. You sighed and started walking in the direction of the bus stop but the door opened behind you. You heard heavy footsteps and then the sound of lighting a cigarette. Turning around slightly, you spotted Benny following you.

“Just wanted to point out that proper girls don’t find Bonnie and Clyde romantic,” with a few big steps he was now walking next to you.

“It’s not the murdering aspect, gee, why do I have to explain it so many times?” You got irritated.

“I didn’t say anything ‘bout it. You said something about the freedom and the road. You ever been on the open road like that?” Benny asked and you already knew what he wanted to propose because he had been mentioning it many times before while flirting with you at the diner.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “I need a ride home,” you admitted and bit on your lower lip. “And no, I’ve never been. On the open road, I mean,” you added, feeling your cheeks heating up.

Benny didn’t say anything, he only nodded before throwing his cigarette on the ground and walking away to jump on his motorbike. He started the engine and patiently waited for you to finally join him. Feeling the rush of adrenaline going through your body, you clumsily sat behind him and he made the engine roar like a lion – a very sexy sound, you had to admit – but he didn’t start driving. You realised he was giving you a signal to hold onto something before he would drive away. It was considerate of him, you had to admit. Other guys would just drive away and laugh at your squealing. But Benny wanted you to be safe and for the second time on that night you realised that he was making you feel safe. Safer than a proper guy like Marcus – for sure. And you just didn’t know what to do with this information.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, told him your address and that was when the engine roared again but this time he drove away.

And God, something broke inside of you that moment. It was as if your brain chemistry changed completely. The speed, the wind in your hair, the freedom – this odd feeling that he could take you anywhere like this and you would go with him… To the point that when you spotted him taking a turn that led to your street, you nearly felt disappointed that he wasn’t “kidnapping” you. Perhaps in this moment you understood your cousin even – why had it been so tempting to risk everything for a handsome bad boy.

Benny parked the motorbike in front of your house and you could already spot your mum standing by the window upstairs and looking out through the curtain. You chuckled at the realisation you would have to explain to her how your date with Marcus ended with a guy like Benny taking you home.

“Thanks,” you only said as you got off the bike, still clinging to his leather jacket to make sure you wouldn’t trip and fall. You were a little breathless after that ride.

“And? What do you think?” He asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“It was… Okay,” you grinned, not wanting to give him satisfaction.

“Why do you tease me so much?” Benny sighed.

He was done with playing for now. He just wanted to know the answer. Perhaps it would finally make him give up. Or perhaps it would educate him on the matter how to flirt with you better. Either way, he just wanted the truth.

“Why do you insist so much? I mean, I ain’t nothing special to chase me around for weeks,” you shrugged your arms. “And don’t get me wrong – or actually do get me wrong, the hell do I care? – but I don’t want to be just another number in your book, Benny,” you explained and Benny thought to himself that he wished you could see yourself through his eyes.

“You’re a whole book, kitty,” he winked at you and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Sometimes his flirting had this effect on you whether you liked it or not. “And I can’t wait to read it all,” he added, encouraged by your reaction.

“You can read?” You asked, teasingly.

“I’m full of surprises,” he smirked.

“That I see,” you laughed. “Um… I should go now… My ma’s watching us.”

“I can see,” Benny nodded and looked up at the window upstairs. He waved his hand and you grabbed him by his wrist to pull it down.

“Stop it!” You kept laughing at him and then you realised your face was only a few inches away from his as he was still sitting on his motorbike, ready to drive away any given moment.

A short moment of silence occurred between you two and you just kept staring into each other’s eyes as playful smiles disappeared from your faces. You swallowed thickly and fixed his jacket, not knowing what to do with your hands.

“You have a shift tomorrow?” He broke the silence.

“In the evening,” you nodded.

“So… See you?” Benny asked, unsurely.

“See you,” you smiled at him and he smiled back, relieved. “And hey, thanks for… For being there for me when I was with the… With the asshole,” you lowered your voice and took a step back to give him space now – finally.

“No need to thank me,” he shrugged his arms. “It’s just the thing I do, ain’t it?”

You furrowed your brows at those words.

“Protectin’ my girl,” he winked at you and the engine roared, making you take a few more steps back. And then he drove away – just like that.

Shaking your head and hugging your own self to feel warmer, you walked to the front door of your house, biting on your lip and not being able to help a chuckle.

Apparently, Benny had already decided that you were his girl. And, apparently – you enjoyed it.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[bombuni]

say yes

summary: The two times Jongho tries to confess, and the one time he does. genre/pairing: jongho x fem!reader, bff!yeosang x reader (platonic), fluff, college au, pining warnings: jealous!jongho, mentions of drinking, implied nsfw at the end bom note: my bday is today so im celebrating w this thank u me this is cute asf🫰 also enjoy a playlist i made for this fic! ps i feel like i didn’t rlly do this trope justice especially w jjong but i just really wanted something cute and fluffy. either way, enjoy!<3 RIBO NATION FOREVER

You don’t really remember how or why it started.

You just remember that one day, you entered Yeosang’s new apartment and were greeted by a strange, albeit handsome, face. You remember stumbling over your greeting as he looked you over, all too casual in the way his eyes roamed your being. You remember the first time your eyes were met with his angelic gummy smile as he spoke his first words to you (you remember them exactly; “I’m Jongho. Didn’t know Yeosang was gonna bring over pretty girls often.” it stuck with you for days like gum on your shoe.) and how your heart skipped many beats.

Alright, maybe you do remember exactly how and why you fell for Choi Jongho.

You feel a poke on your cheek that wakes you out of your daydreams, “Having another Choi Dream?”

Yeosang stretches as your professor drones on, his laptop screen completely blank. He spends most of his time in this class showing you cat videos and bothering you as you attempt to take notes.

“A what? What is that?”

He mindlessly scribbles on your paper, “It’s what I’m calling your fantasies about Jongho. You do it a lot.”

Unfortunately, having Yeosang as your best friend means he knows exactly what you’re thinking about all the time. He’s quietly observant of you, and he seems to have noticed all the discreet glances you direct towards Jongho.

Well, it’s hard not to realize your feelings when you yap Yeosang’s ear off about how ‘sexy’ (your words-not his) Jongho looks every night.

You don’t have the option to deny his factual statement, “You better not say that in front of him.”

He puts his hands up in mock surrender as your professor finally declares the lesson over. You’ll regret not paying attention later. For now, it’s a Friday and your last class has ended. You follow Yeosang out the building doors and into the breeze of the outside world. He throws an arm around your shoulders when he sees you shiver. The autumn leaves crunch under your feet as you walk towards wherever he takes you.

Yeosang hums in thought before finally speaking, “Ya know…I really think Jongho feels the same way about you. I can feel it in my gut,”

His tummy rumbles as you pat it, eliciting a chuckle from you, “Think you’re just hungry, guy.”

“Hmm…you’re right. Where should we go…?“

You wait for Yeosang to finish his thought, hand resting comfortably on his hoodie as you peer over the campus. It’s an oddly perfect day. The temperature isn’t too hot or too cold. The wind blows through your hair just enough to give you a movie star look. There’s people living their lives all around on old benches and picnic tables.

You’re broken out of your thoughts when Jongho’s voice pulls at your insides and drags you to the real world.

Jongho’s used to your closeness with Yeosang. He’d be institutionalized by now if he wasn’t. He tries to greet you both casually, but he can’t find it in himself. You’ve been friends with Yeosang for years, he knows that, this is normal for you.

But your hand rests so comfortably, so assuredly on Yeosang’s tummy. Such an intimate spot that raises a tinge of heat inside Jongho. He’s found you do that a lot to him ever since you met. You infuriate him and placate him all the same.

What a cliche, he thinks to himself, falling for my roommate’s best friend.

“What? Baby got a tummy ache?” He points to where your hand rests. The teasing smile on his face isn’t the same as the usual expression he wears when he makes fun of you. Like he’s holding something back.

You’re almost too quick in your removal of your hand, Yeosang’s wide eyes meeting yours as you push his arm off you, “Baby’s hungry. We’re gonna grab something to eat. Wanna join?”

You know the look Yeosang is giving you. It’s the disbelieving, doe-eyed, ‘Jesus, how bad do you want this guy?’ look he gives you every time Jongho comes around.

Jongho’s too focused on you to notice the way Yeosang’s eyes burrow into your head, “Sure. Long as you stop referring to Yeosang as ‘baby.’ It’s gross.”

Yeosang harrumphs as the three of you begin to walk, “I’m not gross.”

Jongho’s gut lights up again when you coo, “Aww. You are just a little, though.”

Your bickering is cute, sure. In fact, he finds it adorable how pouty you get every time he teases you. It’s just not as cute when you direct that attention to Yeosang.

Whatever.

He’ll figure it out later. Right now, he intends to share a good meal with a cute girl. And his roommate. He’ll focus on the first part.

-

The second time you notice he’s holding something back, you wake up in Yeosang’s bed.

Yeosang is stiff as a board beside you, bundled up and snoring away after your late night study session. He’d turned in early, leaving you and Jongho alone for a couple hours. It was nice to pretend he was all yours. You remember the way his heart-shaped lips sipped his Americano. The way his glasses slipped down his button nose every time he’d look down at your work. So cutely attuned to your success. He’d been so close you could smell his cologne all night and you’re pretty sure it fogged your memory. You definitely didn’t retain any of the information he tried to teach you.

You move over Yeosang’s resting body to get up as you hear the coffee maker in the kitchen. You don’t think as you drag whatever article of clothing nearest to you over your body. Just as long as it warms you up.

Jongho’s back faces you as you enter their tiny kitchen. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in such an…intimate setting. From what you can see he still has his bed head, drowsy yawns falling from his lips as he moves around. What really gets you is the thin undershirt he wears, fully exposing the warm skin of his arms that he’s always hiding. Just the sight of his broad shoulders has you dizzy. It’s almost jarring, like you’ve just plunged yourself into an ice bath first thing in the morning. You have to pretend to be normal as he notices you.

“Morning. Did I wake you?”

“Ah, no-“ you stumble over your words and your face burns as he raises a mug to his lips. It’s dwarfed by his hand. He leans on the countertop, casually taking in your flustering, babbling self.

You try to collect yourself, “I usually wake up early anyways.”

The smile he gives you sends another wave of butterflies-no, those must be wasps-flowing through your tummy.

“Good. Didn’t wanna ruin your beauty sleep or anything.”

The amount of emotions you’re going through this early pisses you off. You blush harder as you attempt to fight the bashful giggles that make their way through you, “Don’t worry, I don’t need sleep to look this beautiful.”

He chuckles and mutters a ‘sure’ before turning to prepare you a cup of coffee. It gives you another great view of his back muscles, which flex with every move he makes. Watching him is hypnotizing. Especially as he stretches his arms into the air, letting your eyes roam over every inch of him. The expanse of his body is…intimidating. You wonder if you could really take him.

Too early for those kind of thoughts, you think.

You shake your head and decide to do something rather than gawk at Jongho. You rummage through the cabinets, looking for Yeosang’s cakes you know he hides from you. With your back to Jongho, he tries to hand you your cup of coffee before pausing. He spots something. Usually he takes any chance he gets to watch you bent over, but the large letters on your back stops him from enjoying the sight. You’re too absorbed in your search to notice his confounded silence.

He manages to mutter out a pained sound, disguising it as curiosity, “Kang…?”

You turn towards him, confused. You realize, with Jongho’s accusing finger, raised eyebrow, and adorably frustrated face, that you’re wearing Yeosang’s team hoodie. The one that brands you as his with his last name sprawled out in big, black letters.

“Oh! I didn’t really see what I was putting on-“

There’s a pout on his face. He shoves the mug into your hands, still careful not to burn you. Before you can say anything, he’s forcing your body backwards into the counter as he stretches to retrieve something from the cabinet above you. He’s so close as he rummages, giving you a clear view of the adorable mole on his neck you always think about kissing. He smells like fresh laundry.

It’s not even like he’s doing it on purpose. He’s just so big that it unintentionally shoves you into him. Trapped between the counter and his chest is exactly where you want to be. You hope he never finds the snacks you’re looking for as your mouth salivates at the sight of his vast collarbone.

He finally snaps you of out of your wet dreams, “Sorry. He usually hides them in the way back.”

He pretends like the blush on your face doesn’t have him giddy to high heaven. The pout from before is gone now, replaced with a cocky smirk he’s trying hard to hold back. He might enjoy watching you break a little too much, making no attempt to move as he memorizes the way your wide eyes look below him.

You breath in sync, and you’re sure he’s leaning in closer and closer…

“You know…” he sips on his coffee, “Next time you’re cold, just ask me. I’ll give you my hoodie.”

Then he retreats to his bedroom. Like it never happened.

-

The third and final time, you’re at Wooyoung’s birthday get-together he’d decided to host for you.

Watching Jongho gulp down drink after drink, so casual in his enforcement of self-control and power, has you really regretting the intimate setting. He looks breathtaking in the oversized jacket, and it’s affecting you even more now that you know what he’s hiding under those layers. You love how quietly alluring he is for you, drawing you in by just existing.

You’re not a light-weight, but you fear the effect of the drinks you did have are sped up by Jongho’s charm. Wooyoung and Yunho seem to notice your star struck manner and refuse to let up on the teasing, making up new ways every minute to make you blush harder.

Jongho’s busy talking to Mingi and Hongjoong across the room, but he’s not entirely focused on the conversation. He keeps hearing giggles from the three of you and he can’t help but turn his head every few minutes to throw a suspicious glance towards you. Hongjoong thinks he’s like a watchdog.

He sips his drink idly as Jongho turns back towards the conversation, “You act like they’re gonna chew her to bits.”

Jongho pretends to look confused, raising a questioning eyebrow and scoffing. Mingi doesn’t let him get away with it.

“Yeosang told me you’re the one who wanted to do this party in the first place.”

“I merely suggested the idea-“

Mingi continues, “You have an entire list of gift ideas.”

Jongho grumbles and gives up in his act of nonchalance. Instead of admitting anything, he only rolls his eyes and attempts to walk away as the two men shout at him to grow a pair. He pretends not to know them as the crowd around them turn to stare.

It’s overwhelming inside and you don’t even know half of the people coming up to you to wish you a happy birthday. Yeosang’s nowhere to be found and without your other half to fuel you, you decide to get a breath of fresh air. You hear Wooyoung’s cackle from somewhere inside the house.

It’s a cool night. The moon isn’t shining as much as it can, but it illuminates enough to let your senses come down and decompress. The porch is littered with trash from drunken party-goers, cigarette ashes covering the railing. The wind is a nice companion as it passes through, although, and it makes you forget about the mess inside of the house and inside of you.

For a moment. Before one of the major causes of your anxiety seems to find its way towards you again.

Jongho’s voice is teasing, “Wooyoung’s gonna be mad if he finds you out here.”

He leans onto the railing a few feet from you. Like he’s afraid to be near you, as if he wasn’t stealing your breath and pressing himself right against you the other day.

You chuckle at the thought, “He’s definitely too drunk to even know what’s going on right now.”

You feel his stare burn through the side of your face. It’s a strange pressure you feel in your heart, familiar but threatening. A steady beat with suspicious undertones.

Jongho’s breath catches for a moment, hesitant before voicing his question, “Is it…I mean, are you having fun?”

There’s a quiet, hidden vulnerability in his words. He wants to ask something deeper, something that actually allows you to reveal yourself to him but ‘fun’ is all he can manage. There’s already a blush creeping up the back of his neck and he hopes to God you don’t notice when you turn to look at him.

You look at him with stars in your eyes and the air is almost knocked out of him, “‘Course I am. Especially out here with you.”

He’s so careful in his attempt to hide his shyness, but you see right through him. You see the need for connection and honesty, as hidden as it is. You’re just not sure whether it’s on the same level of connection that you want. Jongho only smiles shyly at your words, biting back his full gummy smile.

He moves closer, standing upright and facing you fully. He hesitates for a moment, fumbling with his hands before he holds a gift bag to you like a kid asking for Halloween candy.

“Here.” He gestures hurriedly, embarrassment growing every moment that passes by with your eyes locked onto the brown paper bag.

“This is…for me?”

Jongho pouts and shakes the bag in annoyance, “What does it look like?”

“Alright, if you’re gonna be sassy-“

He rolls his eyes and pulls the gift out himself, shoving it towards you once again in an attempt to hide his shaking hand.

It’s the necklace you’d been eyeing. The one you hadn’t told anybody about, but kept looking back to on the online storefront. You’d just been waiting for the right moment to buy it, but Jongho beat you to it.

Your hands touch his as you take it and Jongho has to manually breath, “How did you-“

“You kept looking at it in between our study sessions. I don’t know if it’s the right color.”

You stop his bashfulness, “Jongho. It’s perfect.”

That seems to soothe him, “Okay, good.”

There’s a moment of silence between you as you inspect the pretty necklace in your hands. He’s too focused on the look on your face. The dorky smile you don’t even know is there, the same one you get every time you guess a homework answer correct. This feeling has been filling his chest uncomfortably for the past few months, and now he’s gotten to the point of bursting watching the giddy giggles pour out of you.

That past shyness is gone now, “You know I like you, right?”

“…What?”

He pouts, “I thought I made it pretty obvious.”

The necklace is forgotten now, “Uh…no?”

He rolls his eyes again (prick) before pulling you into a kiss. It’s the kind of once in a lifetime kiss that makes your knees buckle and the tingles in your spine grow into fireworks. His hand on your cheeks moves down to your waist, pulling you in to have you as close as possible. Jongho thinks that as long as he touches you, he’s grounded. Won’t float off into outer space like he wants to as your glossed lips move against his.

The wind blows again and you can’t help but giggle as you both sway. Jongho can’t help but swoon when he hears that harp-like sound again, repeating it over and over in his brain until he hears another angelic sound from you to keep him afloat.

One kiss and he’s already addicted.

Your hands land on his broad chest as he holds you against him, “Ok, that was pretty obvious.”

“Shut it.”

You kiss him again. Again and again and again until he’s satisfied.

bonus:

Wooyoung had insisted on opening your presents once the party had ended, left only with your close knit group of friends.

There’s red solo cups littered on the floor and San trips over nothing as he attempts to give you an emotionally charged congratulatory hug. You choose to ignore the snot stains he leaves on your shirt as Jongho pulls him off you. Hongjoong giggles beside him.

“Ok, this one-“ Seonghwa hiccups, “is from me and Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung claps beside you as Seonghwa hands you the crinkled Dollar Tree baby shower themed bag.

“Aww! You guys, you really didn’t have to-“

There’s a collective pause before the room bursts into laughter. Only Seonghwa remains stone-faced and serious.

Jongho grimaces at the pink, fuzzy handcuffs you hold in your hand. Yunho wolf-whistles beside him, as if the younger won’t do anything to hurt him once he’s sober and able to feel it.

Seonghwa attempts to shush the crowd, “I want you-“ he points towards Jongho, “to use these wisely and responsibly, okay?”

Wooyoung attempts to hug Jongho from behind, “Our little bear, all grown up…”

The night ends with Wooyoung handcuffed to his own stair railing.

[sukunasweetheart]

kimi ni todoke inspired, but with a twist?? except sukuna is suuuuper into your whole scary/creepy vibes (strange fetish) this is more just rambling, not a proper fic sorry, its a little smutty, scratching and knifeplay involved (he's quite submissive), sukuna's a whole FRREAK

sukuna in college au, where he has a strange infatuation with the horror genre-- has a deep appreciation for scary films, and is a huge nerd in this area, and many of his favourite celebrities are actors and actresses that starred in one of his favourite films. his brother yuuji is also a huge cinema nerd but he's not as obsessed with horror as sukuna is. and frankly, yuuji thinks he's a slight weirdo for being able to analyse them in a very detailed manner, whether it's the jumpscares or how realistic a gore scene looks.

and now this horror nerd discovers someone very noteworthy in his area. there's this semi-famous haunted house that operates year-round nearby his university, which he decides to visit alone, out of boredom.

...the atmosphere is alright. the decoration could use some work. the bloody sheets don't look convincing enough. it's too pink and tacky. the "ghosts" give an effort to try and scare him, but he gives them a deadpan look.

"can you try any harder?" sukuna keeps walking.

next, a man dressed like a typical serial killer walks in holding a real chainsaw. oh, boy. the "killer" walks up real close to him, to his annoyance. he takes the chance to inspect the mask on his face. he flicks it lightly with a finger.

"shit's made out of plastic. do better."

the man revs up his chainsaw.

"ha - that's the spirit." he continues walking.

there's suddenly eerie silence, now that he's almost at the exit of the haunted house. what, did they run out of ideas?

he thinks he catches a glimpse of someone in the corner of his eye. sukuna stops and turns back, but there's no one in sight. that gets the hairs on the back of his neck rising, ever so slightly. he likes that.

he feigns ignorance and keeps heading to the exit, wanting something to jump out at him. he hears little footsteps behind him, this time. he whips around again, but there's nobody.

"you're edging me, are you?" he says sarcastically with a chuckle.

you're hiding in a little pocket area out of view, when you hear the man mention something about edging. great. another fucking weirdo. sometimes, you feel like you should just get a new job.

the third time, you actually reveal yourself and stand still in view when he turns around. the weirdo just stands there and grins at you. the fuck??

oh, sukuna loves this one. you look terrifying. like you came directly from a horror film set. you give him the creeps.

"look at you... a diamond in the rough."

the fuck is this man talking about? you want to tell him to just leave already. but he just continues observing you silently, like someone analysing an artifact. you move stiffly towards him, even while knowing that it probably wouldn't be enough to scare him off.

"your makeup looks too real... do you do that yourself?"

you glare at him. it's part of the script anyway. sukuna chuckles, because something tells him that the disdain in your eyes are real.

"i know, i know. i'll get going. any chance i could get your number before i go?" he asks boldly, hands in his pockets. it's a half-hearted attempt, but he felt the need to really try at least once.

he must be joking. what kind of perverted man sees a woman looking like this and asks for her number? well, he probably isn't being serious anyway. silence permeates the area as you backtrack away from him, deciding you've done enough for your pay's worth.

"running away? a shame..."

you feel odd. many men have seen you and ended up running out screaming. none has ever tried flirting with you while you were in this getup. what a weirdo.

sukuna walks out feeling better than expected. that last section really saved it. not a totally worthless experience. maybe he'll swing by again, just to see you.

except, he doesn't really need to. because the next day you bump into him at uni - and he recognises you instantly, like the freak he is. you try to brush him off casually, but he can't be shaken off so easily. and then sukuna pestering you wherever you hid around on campus became part of your schedule.

"what's your deal? why do you keep following me around?" you eye him suspiciously, when he sits down next to you on the bench, unprompted.

"well, i'm interested in you, for one," he says casually, shrugging.

"listen... if this is because you have some weird horror fetish, then i'm not interested..." you tell him truthfully, shuffling yourself away.

sukuna laughs out loudly in response, which makes you jump.

"i won't deny having unusual tastes, but my interest isn't that shallow. if it were the case, i could probably seduce any other girl and dress her up instead of chasing after you."

well, you guess he's correct about that. you've received a couple of stink eyes from a number of girls after being seen with sukuna so often.

he's an annoying guy - when you ask other peers about him, they tell you he's stoic, mean, and rude as fuck. well, you understand the last two a little bit, but stoic? every time he sees you, he seems like the opposite. he's rather loud and overbearing.

"i'm telling you - you have a talent. why not make use of it?"

he's referring to your future acting career, apparently.

"and i'm telling you - stop with the nonsense! i can't be fooling around with a silly idea like becoming an actor. seriously."

you only started working at the haunted house for some cash. you're not even that into the genre itself. what's with this guy?

"why would it be fooling around? at least give it a try before dismissing it."

this back and forth continues, for quite a while. he even forces you to watch his favourite horror films, "for future reference".

and then he proposes a deal to you. that you try and audition for a small role as a ghost in a film. he guarantees you'll get picked, even though you doubt it. and if you don't he promises he'll never bring the idea up to you again. you decide to go with it, just to shut him up.

but guess what? you're selected for the role.

sukuna shrugs at you with a smug smile on his face.

"see? i'm always right."

he pisses you off.

and he somehow pushes his way into becoming your personal "trainer". sukuna revises your script with you, and gives you feedback on your acting. he sits you down and watches classic horror flicks with you, analysing every scene down to every frame. many things happen the more you spend time with him..... you find yourself getting more and more attracted to this weirdo. this horror nerd.

"are you paying attention? this part is important."

the film gets paused, and you very swiftly, dart your eyes away from admiring his jawline.

"i'm trying... i just can't concentrate. i'm hungry," you lie fervently.

"hungry for what? me?" sukuna grabs your face and makes you turn your head towards him.

"...no? whatever gave you that idea?" you ask, heart hammering in your chest.

"how is it that an aspiring actor can't even lie properly? maybe we need to go back and revise some of your acting lessons."

you know that he's studying to become a film director, and honestly you feel sorry for the future actors that'll be working with him.

"whatever. let go of my face, you ass." you swat his hand away.

sukuna chuckles deeply at you, eyes softening.

"you're lucky that you're cute. how about i give you a kiss? will you concentrate better then?"

"yeah... wait, what-?"

too late though, he's already on your lips. and damn, he's a good kisser. anyways, that embarks the start of your relationship with him. shortly after, the filming process for the short film begins, and it becomes a decent success. you're a little ecstatic. maybe more than a little. you get the feeling that a whole new life is awaiting you.

and your boyfriend is so endlessly cocky about it. "all thanks to me," he says, which is technically correct, but you don't want to openly admit it in front of him sometimes.

and...

occasionally...you do dress up scarily before sex as well. at first, you were quite reluctant and awkward with roleplaying in bed, but after you got used to it, you found that it's hot as hell to see sukuna beneath you, squirming as you press a knife close to his throat, grinding your clothed cunt against his boner, dressed as a terrifying ghoul.

a safe word was established beforehand, of course, just in case either of you suddenly feel like backing out.

you want to keep yourself immersed into the role as much as possible, but it's difficult when sukuna's cock is so big, hitting all the right spots. this time, you're choking him with one hand as you ride him like he's a toy.

sukuna's hands are guiding your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh, his dick aching from the soft pressure you apply to his throat. you look so utterly scary, it turns him on. he'd let you kill him, if you wanted. he fucks into your cervix, looking up into your eyes with a blush on his face, groaning openly at the insane look in your eyes.

choke me harder. scratch me. bite me. he provokes you through his gaze.

you do grip his throat harder. and then you dig your fingernails into his chest, and scrape them down slowly, leaving a trail of red marks down him. sukuna shudders under you and curses under his breath.

"just like that... fuck, baby," he moans, cock throbbing inside of you. your walls squeeze him so good.

he cums the hardest he's ever cum in his life that night - thighs trembling and sweat rolling down his temples, and it doesn't help that you lean down to sink your teeth into the side of his neck while he orgasms.

aftercare consists of him cleaning you up and helping you de-costume. when he's wiping all that dark makeup off your face, he tells you that you're pretty with his soft voice, flustering you.

and of course, vanilla sex also occurs regularly, to get away from that freaky stuff sometimes, with the gentle kisses and tender hand holding, in a missionary position, exchanging sweet, sweet gazes with each other. giving you the princess treatment you deserve for being so good to him.

in the future, you run around and play bigger roles until one of your films become a huge hit, and sukuna finishes his degree to become a famous film director... no surprises there! the best horror actress + the best horror film director goes hard... the two of you are already married at this point.

when the both of you finally get together to make the ultimate film, the internet explodes... sukuna is surprisingly bad at being professional. he's seen often taking care of you rather affectionately around the filming area, personally making sure your makeup is done perfectly, and bringing you food and water as if he's bragging to everyone else about his marriage. and it shows in the way he sugar coats his critique for you, when he has never done that for any other actor/actress he's worked with previously.

if there are some snooty coworkers that try to speak with him about the gap in treatment, he would simply scoff at them and say 'and? she's my damn wife.'

when he's working with you, it's all like:

"cut! honey, that was great, but i think this part can be done a bit better."

but when it comes to other actors:

"cut! what the fuck was that? sounded like you were reading off the damn script. get your shit together."

he's notorious for being relentless, but nobody has anything to say because all of his films climbed to the top of the industry. everyone is dying to score a line or two in his films.

and i'd like to think that sukuna himself dabbles into acting a little as well. there's probably one film where he stars as the killer, and it becomes a classic :) but the one featuring you and him probably becomes both of your biggest hits ✨

oh, and on days where you two finish filming together, he takes you home with his own car, but before that, some freaky car sex probably occurs around some corner with his windows tinted... (he's been hot and bothered the whole time filming, watching you act)

the end <3

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