#i should've been this stressed about it so long ago

[justinefrischmanngf]

i FUCKED this year UP . i should have been saving way way way more money than i was while i had my rent sorted for this year . fuck . anyway it's literally fine it's whatever i don't care i made my bed and i'm going to fucking lie in it .

[bvidzsoo]

Daemonium

﹢﹑⟡ Daemonium → evil spirit [Latin] ﹢﹑⟡

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: demon!Jung Wooyoung x female reader

﹢﹑⟡ Warning: cursing, attempts of murder, descriptions of death, usage of witchcraft, suggestive ﹢﹑⟡ Word count: 17.5k ﹢﹑⟡ Rating: nc-17 ﹢﹑⟡ Genre: supernatural!au, university!au, demon!au, crack somehow too~ Summary: ﹢﹑⟡ Starting university and moving in with an unknown dormmate should've been stressful, not to you though. You couldn't wait to finally break free from home and live life freely. But isn't it weird that you start having near death experiences quite often after you meet your dormmate, Jung Wooyoung? ﹢﹑⟡

A/N: Hello, hello, my lovelies! The long promised demon!Woo oneshot is here! I apologize in advantage if I totally fucked up how a negative is developed, despite my research, I didn't understand much lol. Also, the usage of witchcraft isn't described too much but it still might not be that accurate so yeah, sorry for that too. I hope the humor in this isn't bad or cringey, I had quite a blast writing this story lol. I hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts about it, I appreciate and love your feedback always! <3 divider (picture Vogue Korea shoot Wooyoung, where he wore that sheer-like fabric, making it seem like he was covered in tattoos & also, Coachella Mingi, thank uu)

            The first time I saw him was when I was down in the lobby, six months ago, all sorts of excited and nervous as I was waiting for my AR to show me to my room for the university year. My mother had been clinging to my arm, her eyes just as wide and curious as mine as we were looking around while giggling to ourselves about the decoration and any guy that passed by us. My father, much less impressed and excited, stood more to the back with his arms crossed in front of his chest, probably thinking of a possible excuse to save himself from having to help his only daughter move into her future dorm room. So very typical of my dad, yeah.

I was chewing on my nails, watching as another AR came down to greet the newcomers—too busy wincing as I ripped up the cuticle of my thumb accidentally—to notice the sudden presence next to me. My mother was reading through a magazine she found at the front desk, lips pursed as she muttered to herself about the atrocious décor the magazine was advertising just as my father’s phone started ringing.

Ah, there it was, his excuse to stake out in the car and do whatever he can to pass the time. Very cool, dad, yay!

I hissed as I finally was able to bite off the annoying thin layer of skin, stinging radiating up from my thumb to my palm. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I sighed as I wiped the smallest drop of blood off my skin and looked up, only to pause as I made eye contact with the figure standing next to me. I blinked once, twice—quite shamelessly letting my eyes roam all over his figure as I took him in—aura dark and definitely screaming, ‘I will kill you if you even as much as touch me, roach’. Well, isn’t that just so cool?!

The guy was taller than me by a few good inches—nothing high heels couldn’t solve—and despite his all-black outfit, he looked excentric, attention demanding. Well, with the tattoos littering his sleeves and neck, it would’ve been a little hard not to demand for one’s attention—even if he was just standing next to me, sharp eyes narrowed at my still gently bleeding thumb. His face looked like it was sculpted by a Greek God itself, who had taken their time to make sure every single feature of his guy’s was perfect. His jaw was all sharp in this angle, making one appreciate his profile even more. His lips were rosy red, and a silver lip ring towards the left corner of his mouth had my eyes lingering on it a second too long as I noticed it cut into his plush looking flesh. His nose stood tall and quite captivating with its special Romanic feature, not very common around here. I took notice of the mole underneath his left eye as well, my gaze slowly shifting to the two silver dots—piercings—underneath his eye that made his gaze even more alluring than it already was. And his eyes seemed to be uneven, the left one sharper and more monolided than his right one, making it feel like you were looking at two different persons depending on which eye you were staring at.

Almost at once, it seemed like my mother and father finally noticed this extremely intriguing guy standing next to me, however, their reactions seeing him were quite different. My father scoffed and gave him a scrutinizing look before walking off, motioning towards his phone in a way that was supposed to convey the fact that it was an important call, yadda yadda—it wasn’t; meanwhile my mother’s jaw dropped open as she very rudely gapped at the guy while nudging my side. Finally, it snapped me out of my blatant staring, and I quickly wiped the little blood off my thumb, smiling widely at the guy when our eyes met. For a moment, my smile faltered at the darkness swirling in his eyes, the depth in his sharp gaze, but as he blinked, it almost completely went away. It must be the light messing with us, because his eyes were a dark brown, almost midnight black like the hair that was falling messily in his eyes. With a sexily raised eyebrow, he gave me a questioning gaze, looking displeased by the attention from my mother and myself, and then he turned and stalked off towards the elevator. I whistled under my breath and my mother giggled like a schoolgirl, muttering something about how she’d devour him if she were young and wild once again—not cool, mom.

And after that encounter with the sexy and intriguing stranger, my RA finally made it to me and with his and my mother’s help—thanks dad for not giving a shit, again—I was up on the fourth floor, standing inside my shared dorm room with a dormmate that I still have had yet to meet. Dorms were mixed here, so unless you specifically made a request to share the dorm with the same gender, you could end up with either a guy or a girl dormmate. I have no specific preferences, therefore I left it up to whoever was assigning us to pair me up with whoever. The dorm room had one shared living space, it was quite spacious and served well for a living room, a small kitchen that could fit at a maximum four people inside, and, thankfully, a private bathroom so that we didn’t have to share it with everyone on our floor. And there were two separate rooms serving as our dormitories too. All in all, the dorm was fancy and quite to my taste, and I felt quite satisfied with it. Once I have claimed the room to my right as my own, I settled inside of it and unpacked everything, letting my mother help me as I knew she wasn’t just yet ready to part ways with her only daughter—who she thinks is sheltered, but turns out, I am quite the opposite of it.

Once my mother left and I was all settled in, I made for the bathroom for a long shower, needing a refresher as the days were still hot and made me sweat buckets. But the warm spray of the water compelled me to wash my hair as well, and I complied happily as I heard noise coming from the living room. My dormmate must have finally made it to our dorm, it made me giddy as I was finally done with my shower, only just now realizing I didn’t bring clothes with myself. Well, I should have thought of that before, now it was too late, but thankfully I had my towel with me and I securely wrapped it around my body, water dripping from my hair as I walked outside and into the living room. My smile was wide and voice chirpy as I exclaimed before even seeing my dormmate, “Hi! You made it! I was just taking a shower, my name’s—”

“Hell, why is your voice so high pitched?” The low grunt cut me off as my eyebrows furrowed, looking for the source of voice as I couldn’t see anyone in the living room. Was my voice high pitched? Nobody’s told me that before.

“Uh, well, I guess I’m just excited to meet you.” I made sure to lower the pitch, accidentally sounding like a creepy man that was trying to sound like he totally wasn’t about to grope you or act like a freaking creep. But I still couldn’t see the person, so I walked closer to the sofa, “Where are you—”

My eyes widened as my dormmate finally came into view as he stood up, eyes still so dark as he looked unimpressed, “Oh, it’s you.”

Well…he didn’t sound too excited, that’s for sure. I gulped, suddenly blushing as I realized I was stood in front of the hauntingly sexy stranger from the lobby in nothing but a towel. However, to my surprise, he seemed quite uninterested as he turned back around and crouched down again. I leaned just a little forward, curious as to what he was doing crouching underneath the window, “Yup, it’s me, we’ve met like…an hour ago? What a coincidence that we’re dormmates!”

“If only I had a little more luck in this shitty realm…” The guy grumbled underneath his breath and my eyebrows furrowed at his peculiar choice of words, oh, was he like…into some type of fantasy stuff? Like…does he think he’s like an elf or an alien or like…a zombie? Wait, no, he’s too sexy and normally behaving to think he’s a zombie, “I’m Wooyoung, by the way. Jung Wooyoung.”

I quickly plastered on a wide smile as he stopped and turned back, eyes calculating as he raised one eyebrow, “Nice to meet you, Wooyoung! My name’s Hwang Y/N.”

His eyes narrowed for a second before he grunted again and turned back to whatever he was doing, my curiosity only growing as I kneeled on the sofa and leaned against the back of it, craning my neck. As he moved to the side again, I noticed he held a small bowl in his hands which contained something solid and white. Huh, is it salt?

“So, whatcha doing, Woo?” I grinned as he turned around again, looking quite disgusted.

“My name is Wooyoung, not Woo.” His tone was snappy as he pursed his lips, giving me a once over again, “And I’m putting salt underneath the window, don’t want anyone with a big ego and stupid brains coming inside.”

“Isn’t that why we lock the front doors?” I arched an eyebrow as confusion laced my voice, and Wooyoung just blinked as if he was waiting for me to get to the butt of the joke.

“Humans,” He hissed underneath his breath before he stood up tall, knees popping and making me bite my lower lip before I could chuckle. It was funny for no reason, apparently only to me as Wooyoung looked still as unimpressed as ever, “Anyways, Y/N, I have some ground rules that you’ll have to respect heavily.”

“Ooh, lemme hear ‘em.” I grinned as I leaned my chin on my folded arms over the back of the sofa, making Wooyoung sigh long and loud. Did he not like me? Was he irritated by my presence?

“First, and most important rule, is to never enter my room, okay?” He leaned down, face coming closer to mine as his dark eyes bore into my curious ones, “Never ever, Y/N, understood?”

I pursed my lips and hummed, tilting my head to the side, “Sure, I’ll stay out of your room, but—are you like doing some rituals in there or what? You can come inside my room as long as you ask, you know, I don’t mind.”

Wooyoung’s jaw tightened as his eyes narrowed again and he tsked, shaking his head a little bit, “Rituals or not, human, you stay out. I bet your mommy would cry if you were to disappear.”

“She certainly would.” I did a mock salute, making Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow as I chuckled, leaning forward, the gap becoming smaller between our faces, “Don’t you worry you weird little creature—human—I won’t go inside your room. I am quite capable of respecting people’s wishes, you know?”

“Anyways,” Wooyoung cleared his throat and stood back up straight, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “second rule, if you see salt scattered around the floor or on the windowsills, do not get rid of them, got it?”

“Sure, you’re lucky I’m not some clean freak maniac, though.” I chuckled, sitting back on the sofa before I stood up, suddenly aware again that I was standing in only a towel and my hair was still dripping water everywhere.

“Hell, why do you have an answer to everything?!” Wooyoung pinched the bridge of his nose before he turned his back to me and went to spread more salt underneath the window. I just chuckled and took off towards my room.

“Anything else, Mr. ‘I have two rules you can’t ever break’?” I raised my eyebrows as I grabbed the doorknob and Wooyoung scoffed loudly, looking quite unimpressed when his head turned to face me.

“Yeah, rule number three, don’t ever touch my chocolate if you want to live another day.” I started laughing, but when I realized he was dead serious about it, I stopped and cleared my throat, mock saluting him again.

“Yes, sir, yes!” Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed again and he closed his eyes as he muttered something, then turned back to finish whatever weirdo thing he was doing. I giggled and finally went inside my room to get dressed and dry my hair.

            Well, all of that was six months ago and Wooyoung changed nothing. Albeit, I didn’t change much either, apart from the fact that I cut my hair after Wooyoung accidentally managed to somehow burn the strands sitting against my back. It was a freak accident and we still don’t know how the fire got close to my hair as I was sitting at the table while he was cooking us dinner. But it was quickly forgotten as many of Wooyoung’s peculiar habits and actions. If you overlooked his weirdness, he had quite the persona. I rarely saw him smile, unless he was with that obnoxiously tall blonde guy, but he did stop glaring at me nonstop. Now he’d only glare for a few seconds whenever he saw me and then pretended I wasn’t even there. It was a good deal on my part, not that I had a habit of clinging to others and bothering them, but Wooyoung was quite good at setting up boundaries, and he certainly was teaching me how to stay in my lane and respect others wishes. I could be a little nosy, but Wooyoung was the first person to be bothered by it. I didn’t mind as long as he would watch ghost hunting shows with me every Wednesday and Friday. He hated it, but he didn’t complain—I viewed that as a small victory, especially if he bought salted caramel popcorn to snack on while we watched the new episodes.

The seasons were changing and the weather was turning warm once again—slowly but steadily—and that also meant more storms and power outages. Which were quite frequent around our campus, especially in our building. There wasn’t one storm where the power didn’t go out, and the last time it happened, I heard Wooyoung cussing loudly inside his room, something shattering, and then Wooyoung storming out of his room and our shared dorm with something red trickling down underneath his eyes. He could’ve been cosplaying or something, so I didn’t question it too much. Tonight wasn’t different, the storm hit at around 7pm and it kept going well into the night, making it difficult for me to fall asleep as the windows were quite old in this building and did a shitty job at insulating the sounds coming from the outside. Struggling to fall asleep, I had facetimed my mother and somehow managed to fall asleep to the gory story she was retelling that’s happened to her at the morgue yesterday. She must’ve hung up upon seeing that I have fallen asleep, because when I awoke due to the relentless and loud howling of the wind, the screen of my phone was black and the phone itself had been almost falling off my bed on the other end of the mattress. I could get quite restless in my sleep if outside factors were bothering me, and I groaned as I rubbed at my eyes, barely seeing anything in the darkness of my room. The window rattled against its hinges as the wind blew even harsher, the rain hitting the glass loudly and making me feel like I was inside a caravan on a stormy night. At least the thunderstorms haven’t started yet.

I yawned as I finally felt my phone under my extended palm and rolled over, burying my head in the spare pillow as I pulled the phone under my body. I was tired as hell and I wanted to go back to sleep right away, but something told me to check the time. It was a little past 3am and I groaned as I flopped back onto my back, reaching over for the cable of my charger. Feeling around for it, and growing frustrated that I couldn’t find it, I pushed up onto my elbows and turned my head over, completely freezing as I noticed my bedroom door was wide open, with a black figure standing in the doorway. My eyebrows furrowed for a second, brain hazy with sleep, and I blinked my eyes fast, thinking that I was just seeing things. But rubbing both of my eyes for a few seconds only made me see black spots, making the figure look like it was further inside my room when my vision finally cleared. My grip tightened around my phone as my eyes narrowed when I noticed something silvery in the person’s right hand. Wait—was it a knife? Our sharpest knife, and Wooyoung’s favorite knife to cook with? Ah, Wooyoung!

“Hey,” I called out, voice a little scratchy from lack of water, “something bothering you?”

Wooyoung seemed frozen, unmoving and unblinking as his red tongue poked out to lick at his plush lips slowly. Yeah, I could use a glass of water too right now. It was a little unsettling how well he blended in with the darkness, almost as if it swirled around him, pulled him into itself. His eyes were so dark that only the whites of them were visible, and his two piercings were almost as bright as the butcher knife clutched tightly in his hand.

“This storm sucks so much,” I sighed, turning over and instantly finding the cable, “I could barely fall asleep, and now I’m awake again because of it.”

I successfully plucked in my phone and then placed it on my nightstand, “You can’t sleep either?”

I rolled onto my back again, settling comfortably underneath my warm blanket as my soft pillow cradled the back of my head. Wooyoung still hasn’t moved nor said anything, and a wide smile spread onto my lips at the sudden thought I got, “Wanna cuddle, Woo?”

The figure grunted, the sound a lot lower than Wooyoung’s usual voice, and then it visibly shivered as I made grabby hands at him. When he still hasn’t moved, I smiled brightly at Wooyoung and raised my eyebrows questioningly. That’s all it took for Wooyoung to snap out of his weirdly frozen state as he visibly gagged, making me pout as he whirled around quickly, knife glinting as he pressed it against his lower back. And then he was out of my room, slamming the door shut loudly behind himself, “Sweet dreams, Wooyoung!”

My exclamation was probably drowned out by the heavy rain and I sighed contently as I nuzzled further into my comfortable bed, turning to lay on my belly as I felt my dreams threatening to kidnap me into dreamland once again.

            The morning that followed after the storm was cold and mostly quiet. Branches had been torn off trees and they lay astray on the streets, the city maintenance were out early in the morning to clean them up so that there wouldn’t be more traffic jams than usual. I was glad for once for not owning a car as I walked towards the coffee shop that is closest to our campus and university, my best friend probably already there. He’s always way too early and then complains about me being late, when in fact, it’s always him arriving fifteen minutes early while I’m on time. It’s an argument we’ve been having since highschool, and he still thinks he’s in the right and I’m just bullshitting my way through the argument. The big guy, in fact, cannot lose in anything and will obliterate you if you doubt his skills or piss him off while playing games. He’s a monster when it comes to playing games, and it’s been more than on one occasion that he managed to scare me to the point I burst out in tears. But I promise he’s the softest and kindest and safest human being you’ll ever meet—as long as you keep him away from anything that he can turn into a competitive game, like…who can eat more walnuts in three minutes. Don’t ask, but we ended up in the ER after that little stunt of ours—he’s allergic to nuts but he apparently wanted to prove a point. What point…we still haven’t figured it out. Maybe that he’s immortal or something—he isn’t. He once broke his arm and cried about it for a week, it was the funniest thing ever. I still have the videos of him laying in his bed with snot running into his mouth as he sobs about losing whatever points he’s made in Valorant or something—I wouldn’t know, I’m not much of a gamer.

I grinned as I finally reached the coffee shop, sidestepping a couple that were giggling to each other and having no spatial awareness to someone that was trying to enter the building that they were blocking the entrance to. I pushed the heavy door open and as expected, Yunho was already sat at our usual table with a cup in his hands, gazing out nostalgically the window. I chuckled and hopped over, scaring the shit out of him as I threw my arm around his shoulders and pressed a fat kiss against his soft and chubby cheek. He spilled a little of his coffee on the table as he whined and yanked himself free from my clutches.

“Yunho!” I grinned as I took a seat across from him, “I missed you!”

He looked tired as he gave me a short glare, taking a napkin to clean up the mess caused by me, “You’re lucky I didn’t spill it on my new dress pants, or else we’d be in the bathroom with your head flushed down the toilet.”

“Hey!” I couldn’t help but laugh as I wriggled out of my jacket and draped it over the back of my chair, placing my backpack underneath our desk, “Sometimes I wonder if you really love me or not…”

“You can’t guilt trip me when you made me spill my favorite coffee.” He deadpanned as he placed the cup down on the table, intertwining his fingers and placing his hands on the table, giving me a serious look. I huffed and pouted as I grabbed my own cup, knowing that it was my favorite as I raised it up to my lips, taking a tentative sip. The sweet taste of caramel invaded my senses and I hummed in content, closing my eyes.

“I’m buying next time.” I said as I placed the cup back down and leaned over the table to ruffle Yunho’s hair.

“You better.” He mumbled as he leaned forward, letting me pet his hair for a little longer. He loved it when others played with his hair, he’d often fall asleep in my lap if I played with his hair, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Yunho knew I hated storms, and after having offered to sleep over last night but I declined because he had an exam today, I knew he’d be a little worried about me not sleeping much, “Yeah, I struggled to fall asleep, but I did manage to sleep more than I expected.”

“That’s good, the power went out at around seven in our building.” Yunho rolled his eyes and we both leaned back in our chairs, our legs playfully pushing at each other underneath the table, “I hate these old buildings, they are so freaking creepy. It makes me feel like I’m a Victorian man getting haunted by my enemy’s ghost or something whenever I have to leave my room. The library is so dark too, I almost shat my pants last night when I ran into a dude in the very last aisle, you know, in the back where the light barely reaches even with the power on.”

I snorted in amusement as I fiddled with my fingers in my lap, shaking my head at my best friend, “Only you would be in the library when there’s a power outage, Yuyu, it’s you who’s creepy at this point, not the possibility of encountering a sexy and hunky ghost—”

“Don’t say that about ghosts, oh, my God!” Yunho gave me a disgusted look as he shivered. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders and soft cheeks, but fierce eyes if pissed off, yet, at his core, he is just a big scaredy-cat. He hates anything paranormal related, and when I once dragged him ghost haunting with me, we ended up in the confession box the same night with him begging the priest to bless him—and me—because he was convinced a demon attached itself to him. It was hilarious, especially when he stole a small vial of holy water and downed it on our way home.

“Anyways,” I playfully rolled my eyes and then took another sip of my coffee, “the power went out in our building too, but was back at 3am.”

“What were you doing up at 3am?” Yunho asked with furrowed brows, holding onto his warm cup of coffee.

“I dunno, the wind woke me up.” I shrugged, placing down my cup and mirroring Yunho, “And then I noticed Wooyoung standing in my doorway with his favorite butcher knife in his hand—”

“What?!” Yunho’s loud voice had heads turning our way with inquiring gazes and I chuckled, bowing my head slightly in a silent apology for being a nuisance. Then, I faced my best friend again and shushed him as he suddenly stood up from his seat from across me, and instead fell into the one right next to mine, “Are you okay?!”

“Yes, Jesus, what’s up with you, Yuyu?” I scoffed and gave him a look that said he’s crazy, making Yunho stare back at me as if I was the crazy one.

“Do you hear yourself right now?!” And before I could answer, he leaned forward and cupped my cheeks, squishing them together so that I couldn’t speak, “What the fuck is wrong with that dude, Y/N, you seriously need to change dormmates. We can move in together, I’ll pay the bigger part of our rent, I don’t care at this point. That guy is trying to kill you!”

I groaned loudly and rolled my eyes as I grabbed onto his wrists, pulling Yunho’s hands off my cheeks as he instead grabbed onto my shoulders firmly with his long fingers digging into my turtleneck, “You are overreacting, again. He isn’t trying to kill me, Yunho, he’s just peculiar. He was probably cooking something and came to check on me as he knows I struggle sleeping when there’s a storm—”

“Right.” Yunho cut me off with an obnoxious scoff, “He was cooking at 3am, Y/N, sure.”

“He does eat at weird hours, sometimes.” I shrugged and yelped when Yunho started shaking me violently.

“Wake up, woman, that man is weird and probably is a serial killer, and if you don’t move out you’ll be his next victim, please, Y/N, when has my intuition been wrong?!” Yunho’s voice was dripping with desperation and I bit my lower lip, blinking at him innocently.

“Back in highschool when you thought that guy you liked from drama class was gay and you kissed him at that legendary party?” Yunho’s eyes widened into saucers, completely mortified at the mention of the cursed exchange—which he have sworn never to speak about.

“Shut up!” He yelped, pressing his big palm against my mouth, “We agreed that never happened! And don’t divert the subject, I am serious, Y/N. Something is very wrong with that guy and you’re just stubborn and don’t want to see it, because you think I’m only saying all of this because I hate him.”

“Well, am I wrong?” I raised my eyebrows and Yunho sighed in exasperation, his hands falling from my shoulders.

“He’s trying to kill you, of course I hate him.” He snapped, eyebrows furrowing deeply, making me roll my eyes as I grabbed my cup and took a sip of my Caramel Macchiato.

“Yuyu, you can’t even pinpoint one instance when he’s tried to kill me, stop being dramatic—”

“Oh, I can’t pinpoint one instance?!” Yunho’s eyebrows angrily shot up, “How about I pinpoint a dozen then, you stupid woman!”

“I’m all ears.” I singsonged and leaned back in my chair as Yunho groaned loudly, leaning closer, as if that would make him sound less insane and make me finally agree with the way he thought things were.

“Fine,” He snapped and pressed a finger against my chest quite painfully, “you had been living with him barely for three weeks when it just so happened that there was a fire scare in your apartment, and your door was locked from the outside? Not even two weeks after that, he walked inside the bathroom while you were bathing and pushed your hairdryer into the bathtub, but thankfully it wasn’t plugged in, right?! Oh, and how about on Halloween when he dressed up as Ghostface and only chased you around and got arrested when the cops realized he had a real knife as a prop?! What about, I don’t know, when he quite literally broke a bottle and held it against your neck under the excuse that he wanted to see how you’d react ‘under pressure’?! Let’s not even mention him burning your hair when you were feet away from the stove. Or that time when the lunatic was playing around with throwing knives and almost fucking gauged your eye out with it? He’s set your favorite blanket on fire, Y/N, while you were underneath it! And you said he tried to push you into the river while you were out taking photographs for your portfolio for class—”

“Alright!” I raised my hands in defeat, sighing loudly, “I do admit it’s weird how often it happens that I’m placed in harms way whenever I’m around Wooyoung, but they are just coincidences, Yunho—”

“Coincidences my fucking ass!” Yunho hissed, cheeks and ears reddening from anger. I sighed defeated and placed my elbow on the table and then rested my chin in my palm with a pout on my lips. Yunho only cussed when he was really angry.

“Yuyu,” I poked his hand with my left hand, lightly scratching his smooth skin with my nails, “I love and you love me, and I know you worry about me because ‘you know how men are’, but Wooyoung is inoffensive, trust me. He’s odd and yeah, weird things happen around him, but I actually quite enjoy his personality. He’s a rational and down-to-earth guy, he tells me as things are and he’s quite fucking good at photography. I probably passed a few of my classes due to his help, so please, try not to think of him as a serial killer.”

Yunho shook his head and looked down, timidly intertwining our fingers, making me beam at him as I knew he wasn’t actually mad at me, “I’ll never like him, and if you freaking disappear, I’m going to dismember him and—”

“You sound like a serial killer right now—”

“And once the police get your case, they’ll tell me I was right, because that dude is nuts and has been trying to kill you for months now, but whatever.” Yunho scoffed and I rolled my eyes, squeezing his fingers between mine, “Let’s change the subject, I don’t want to go to classes angry.”

I grinned, leaning closer to his face, “You texted me something last night about a guy…”

Yunho’s cheeks flushed, and he yanked his hand out of mine as he stood and sat back in his initial seat, “Right, I think I have a new crush.”

I gasped, grinning from ear to ear, “Let me see him!”

Yunho cleared his throat as he unlocked his phone, his ears reddening as he opened Instagram, reluctantly turning his phone around. The guy looked familiar and I narrowed my eyes as I read his handle, wondering where I had seen him before. His eyes were sharp but he had dimples when he smiled. He looked shorter than Yunho, and that was weird, because Yunho preferred guys his height or taller than him.

“Is this Choi San?” Finally, his name clicked as I looked at Yunho with one raised eyebrow, making his eyes widen.

“You know him?” He asked surprised, turning his phone to look at San’s picture, “He’s on the university’s hockey team, majors in sports and such.”

“I know him,” I chuckled and leaned back in my seat, knowing that Yunho will hate what I was about to say next, “and he’s on pretty good terms with Wooyoung.”

Yunho’s face fell and he groaned loudly, throwing his head back, “Great.”

I chuckled and grabbed my cup of coffee, sipping on it as I watched Yunho have a visible meltdown in front of me. This man, he could be so dramatic at times. And maybe I lied a little bit, maybe San and Wooyoung on ‘pretty good terms’, but they did hang out…for business that I couldn’t disclose due to our unspoken dormmate confidentiality.

            Between two-hour long classes and everlasting lectures, I was lucky enough to have a two-hour break, away from all the brain maiming material that I had to sit through and study thoroughly for our fast-approaching exams. As I still had a project to finish, I was headed to the darkroom to check out if my negatives have developed well. It’s been a few days since I had been there, and I was curious to see how my pictures turned out. The porter of our university already knew me—like most photography majors—and as I knocked on his cubicle’s little window, he flashed me a grin and swiftly fetched the darkroom’s key. I thanked him as he handed it over and then I was off to the room, bouncing on my every second step as the hallways were littered with students eager to escape this hell-site. I shared their distaste for having to study so much, but I quite enjoyed what I was studying as long as it required of me to take photos and then present them to the teacher or to our class. Wooyoung, visibly to his horror, shared the same major as me and thus was forced to sit through lessons with me by his side, diligently taking notes and sometimes snorting at whatever the teacher was saying as I mockingly said it back to Wooyoung. He rarely reciprocated any of my jokes and even more rarely interacted back with me. Not that it bothered me, he usually ignored me even in the shared space of our dorm—unless it came to studying and things he didn’t understand. Like how a coffee maker machine worked, which was weird but I didn’t say anything about it to him. He had called himself an old soul or whatever, I didn’t dwell much on his words, unless he was screaming at me for accidentally sweeping up his little funky salt ‘barriers’ that he’d litter our dorm with. It wasn’t my fault I accidentally confused it with breadcrumbs as it was quite literally around our table in the kitchen.

The darkroom wasn’t too spacious nor lit up—hence its name—and I placed my backpack on a stool once I was inside, the door secured shut behind myself. I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket as I walked towards the hung-up strings, the ones I have put up there four days ago. I haven’t developed many negatives this time as I hadn’t taken many pictures, too busy studying instead of focusing on this project, but I was glad that they came out well. I gently took each one down from the string and took my time studying them, smiling as most were taken when I was hanging out with Yunho. However, there was one that was of my oh so lovely dormmate, Jung Wooyoung. He had been sitting on the floor at our coffee table in our living room when I had arrived home, too focused on scribbling things down to notice the click of our door’s lock. I stood in the doorway and took my time to take him in, rarely being able to see a serene look on his face. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a loose black t-shirt, the strange runic like tattoos on display on his arms. There was barely an inch of skin bare, and as he was leaned forward, his t-shirt fell a little low and exposed his neck and collarbones, tattoos similar to the ones on his arms peeking through. The black ink was thick and it made me wonder whether it hurt like a bitch or not when he got them.

I had reached inside my backpack for my camera as Wooyoung’s upper teeth got caught in his lip ring, sucking it between his bottom lip and front teeth. You see, Wooyoung isn’t an unattractive guy and despite his odd behaviour, I am just a woman that appreciates gorgeous things. And so, I couldn’t be blamed for wondering what the lip ring feels like when it makes contact with your own lips, whether it’s bothersome or turns you on even more. Not wanting to pass up on the moment, I quickly snapped myself out of my thoughts and snapped a picture of Wooyoung just as he looked up. He looked taken aback, eyes widened and lower lip jutting out as I grinned and waved at him. His serene expression didn’t last for long, however, as his eyebrows furrowed and a glare made it onto his face. But I ignored it, like I always did, and then went up to him and joined him despite his complaints of wanting to be left alone. When I said he could go to his room and I wouldn’t ‘bother’ him anymore, he noted that the scent of the incense he had used was giving him a headache and he couldn’t stay inside his room today. What a bummer for him, all I saw was an opportunity to finally bond!

I chuckled at the memory as I unclasped the negative Wooyoung was on and excitedly raised it up, close to my face, to see it better. But I froze at the image, wondering whether I have messed up when I was developing the image. Somehow it seemed a little distorted, not much, but if you looked close enough you could see it. The background was unnaturally dark and it almost looked like it was leaving Wooyoung’s body under a mist like form, wrapping around his neck weirdly. The black ink on his skin seemed to be almost glowing and it was his face that made my heart race a little bit, wonder whether my hands were shaky or not when I took the photograph. His eyes seemed to be brightly glowing, only the whites of them visible—much like last night when he had come inside my room—and it made my stomach stir, bringing this unsettling feeling forward in my brain. I have never been scared of Wooyoung before, there wasn’t a reason as to why I would be scared of him, but now I found myself feeling uncomfortable the longer I looked at the picture. There was a creak behind me and my heart skipped a beat as I swiftly spun around, gasping in fright as Wooyoung stood with his hip leaning against a table, watching me with hooded eyes.

My heart started racing in my chest and I quickly hid the picture behind my back as I plastered on a wide smile, “Wooyoung! Hi! You scared me.”

He remained emotionless as he tilted his head, pushing off the table as he very slowly—as if I was his prey—approached me. My heart continued to race in my chest and I wondered how I missed him coming inside the room when the door’s handle was a little faulty and it made a lot of noise. I cleared my throat and watched him curiously, raising my eyebrows, “You’re here to develop some pictures for our project too?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Wooyoung muttered, his voice deeper than usual. I gulped and hummed quickly, trying to keep the smile on my face. I didn’t understand why I felt so nervous all of a sudden, why the hairs stood up on my arms. I shared a living space with Wooyoung, we’ve walked in on each other more than once when the other was showering or bathing—so why now was I feeling like I should be running away instead of waiting for him to reach me? It must be that Yunho’s words got to me, and I was already jumpy seeing the negative. Plus, it was dark and Wooyoung was dressed in all black too, his dark eyes almost invisible as the whites of them shinned brightly. He was dressed in ripped jeans that had scribbles on both pantlegs in a language I couldn’t understand, the soles of his thick boots high, making him taller. The white shirt he wore was buttoned up to his neck and peeking through the neckline of the black fuzzy sweater he had on top of it. Wooyoung’s raven hair had gotten longer these past few months and he had decided to let it grow out even longer, the strands now jelled back and falling messily in his eyes. Eyes, which were outlined with dark eyeshadow and kohl eyeliner, making him look menacing for once. His many earrings matched his silver piercings, and I felt myself step back when he was stood in front of me.

My heart was now racing so fast I could feel the vein thump in my neck, making it harder to breathe when a smoky and intense scent hit my nostrils, Wooyoung’s perfume had always been distinctive and strong, “Got something you want to show me?”

I gulped, eyebrows furrowing as Wooyoung took another step, backing me back up into the closet behind me. I chuckled and shook my head, feeling confused all of a sudden. His expression bore no emotions, but his lips slightly twitched and his eyes narrowed, and I could swear he looked almost amused.

“N-no, not really.” His lips pulled into a smirk and then he reached out, making me freeze as his arm went around my hip and his cold fingers lightly traced the back of my palm until he gripped the negative I was holding, and ripped it out of my grip. My eyes widened and I coughed as he chuckled, raising an eyebrow mockingly, “Oh, I—I took that when we were studying, remember?”

“I rarely forget things, Y/N.” Wooyoung’s voice dripped with honey, sounding too nice compared to how he usually talked to me, “You took this photo without my permission, now look how it turned out.”

I gulped and looked at it again as he turned it around for me to see, making me inhale deeply. Something still wasn’t right with the picture, but I suppose I fucked up when I had developed it. I exhaled and leaned back against the closet, giving him an easy smile, “It’s not you, I probably messed up developing it.”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and his smirk widened, he was almost leering, “It’s not me looking like a monster of your nightmares, but you messing up the developing of it?”

“Yup,” I shrugged and took the photo from his grip, smiling brightly again, “and I don’t have nightmares so I wouldn’t know what those sleep demons look like.”

Wooyoung’s sharp eyes narrowed and he leaned incredibly close, making me gulp as I laughed nervously under my breath, feeling a little weird due to our sudden proximity. He usually fled the room if I was inside it, and if we happened to accidentally touch he’d glare at me and rub at his skin as if I had rabies or something, “Would you like to meet one?”

“Not really,” I scoffed, quite glad that I had my peaceful sleep every night, “besides, I have my own little demon living with me, why want another one?”

“What?” Wooyoung froze, expression falling as I giggled and playfully pushed his shoulder.

“You’re a little rascal,” I started, giving him a smug look, “you act like you hate me, but I know deep down you’re secretly into me.”

Wooyoung scoffed as if I had said something very inconvenient to him, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I cannot stand you, Y/N, you’re too cheery and irritating.”

“Sure.” I giggled and leaned forward, our faces merely inches away once again. Wooyoung’s eyes flickered down for a second, then all over my face before he was back to glaring deeply into my eyes, “Are you possessed by a little demon or something? Is that why you sometimes act so animus?”

Wooyoung chuckled, his lip pulling back into a smirk as he turned his head and leaned forward, lips brushing against my ear. I froze once again, taken aback by how bold he was being. Like I had said, he hated it when we touched.

His lip ring felt weird against my warm ear, and I gulped as his voice had dropped lower than ever before, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I would, very much so.

            Today has been a long day. It almost felt like it never wanted to come to an end. Maybe because I’ve been studying all day long, blessed as our one and only Friday class got cancelled due to our professor catching a nasty flu, and so, I could sleep in and then…study all day long thanks to my misfortune. It was tiring, brain maiming, and absolutely atrociously torturous. But I have survived it and now I’m twice as smart as I was before I thought of looking through the professor’s power point presentations and the book he wrote and selflessly promotes every chance he gets. I mean, I get it, money from a side hustle always comes in quite handy. But the torture and suffering are over now, and all I have to do is get ready for tonight’s movie date with Yunho! We had been planning on having a movie night for quite a while now, but failed to find an evening when we were both free. We have agreed that as long as Yunho brought the snacks and alcohol, I’d be the one cooking for the night. Which turned out to be a fun and entertaining feat to do after the day I have had. The little speaker connected to my phone was blasting my favourite ass-shaking music as I cooked the ramen, probably having bought too much for just two people. But that wasn’t an issue, at least Wooyoung and I would have leftovers for tomorrow. The little sausages were the first thing I got to prepare as I fried them in a pan in a little sunflower oil since they work well with corn-cheese and the ramen I was preparing.

I was in the middle of stirring the ramen with one hand and putting more mayo into the bowl containing the corn as I was nearly shouting the lyrics of the song playing, unaware of the presence lurking behind myself. I raised my right hand holding the spatula in the air, hitting the beat as I scratchily whipped out my best high note to match the singer’s, shaking my ass in the process as I whirled around, jumping just slightly forward. Something cold and sharp poked my abdomen where my crop top had ridden up, and my eyes widened as I jumped in fright having come face to face with my dormmate, Wooyoung. His expression was cold and very unimpressed, brows set in a deep frown and lips pulled into a grimace that screamed disgust, and—his favourite butcher knife was clutched tightly in his right hand, the sharp edge of it pressing just slightly against my flesh.

“Wooyoung!” I exclaimed with a grin and scurried off to lower the volume of my music, “Hi! I didn’t hear you coming in.”

“With the way the music was blaring, I’m not surprised.” Wooyoung hasn’t moved from his spot as I went to take the cooked ramen off the stove, making way for my corn-cheese.

“Sorry, figured since I was alone it wouldn’t be bothering anyone—”

“Just our neighbours.” Wooyoung muttered and then finally moved, lowering the knife as he walked up next to me, leaning against the counter. The knife was still held firmly in his hand, but upon one prolonged stare at the side of my face, he placed it on the counter with a drawn-out sigh. I flashed him a wide smile as I placed the ramen away from the edge of the counter, not wanting the pot it was cooked in to burn our skin if we were to accidentally touch it.

“Yunho is coming over in a bit to watch a movie, do you mind?” I asked Wooyoung as I went back to the stove, placing another pan onto it before I poured some oil in it. Wooyoung grimaced, giving me a small glare as he suddenly approached me, pushing my hand away when I went to grab the bowl of corn, mayo, and a little bit of butter.

“My kin is coming over too.” I giggled at the weird word he used for the term friend, already knowing who he was talking about. The tall guy, as tall as Yunho probably, was a rather intimidating guy, more so than Wooyoung was. His sharp eyes were piercing and he always scrunched up his nose when he looked at me, tilting his head as his eyes followed my every move. He was quite the oddball, but he was hilarious, and besides that Choi San guy, he was the only one who could make Wooyoung laugh so loudly that it sounded like I was living with an evil witch or something. Mingi was quite cool and rather similar to Wooyoung, I could see why the two were friends.

“If Mingi is coming over too,” I grinned as I leaned closer to Wooyoung, but he was busy pouring the corn into the pan to notice me, “the four of us could have a movie night!”

“Absolutely not—” Wooyoung flinched as his head whipped around, probably surprised by the proximity. I chuckled and leaned away, grabbing the cheese as I sprinkled it over the corn in the frying pan, “Mingi and I don’t want to join you for your stupid movie night.”

“Wooyoung,” I whined, pouting in a way I knew would irk him, “please, I already made too much food. Mingi loves ramen and corn-cheese, you always make it for him when he comes over. Wooyoung, please, don’t be a party popper!”

I knew the whiney and high-pitched tone I used would drive Wooyoung up the wall, and he squeezed his eyes shut and then hissed when I leaned closer to bat my eyelashes at him in a disgustingly cute way. He didn’t appreciate it, obviously, and gave me a nasty stare.

“I’ll burn you alive if you act like that ever again.” I gasped in delight as Wooyoung threw another harsh glare at me, knowing that he had given in already. I blew him a small kiss and squeezed his bicep playfully as he wore a loose sleeveless tank top. The blank ink looked to be swirling around underneath his sun-kissed skin, and my eyes lingered on them before I went to wash up the dishes I have used for cooking.

            Despite Wooyoung’s initial sour mood and snarky comments, once the four of us got together, him and Yunho seemed to be enjoying themselves the most as the two of them forced Mingi and I through a variety of board games. I was in a team with Yunho and Wooyoung with Mingi, and the two were at each other’s throats as Mingi and I sat back and let them battle it out in Activity. But Mingi, having been ogling Yunho since the second he stepped foot in Wooyoung and I’s dorm, wanted to switch up the teams and due to his plan backfiring, the two of us were stuck as teammates in a game that we were so very embarrassingly loosing as Yunho and Wooyoung powered through all stages, obliterating us as best as they could. Having known Yunho for more than five years, I could notice the subtle jabs he’d send at Wooyoung, the way he’d ‘accidentally’ elbow him in the ribs way too often, or the way he barely let Wooyoung do his own thing once they became teammates. Wooyoung being rather smart had noticed it too, and besides the unimpressed glances and hasty glares, he let Yunho be without voicing his ever-growing irritation.

Alcohol got mixed into our games, and after we ate the dinner I had cooked, it seemed like everyone got bolder as we started randomly throwing shots back of whatever hard liquor Yunho had bought, our actions to be regretted probably tomorrow. The music was turned up to a normal volume so that it wouldn’t bother our neighbours and our laughter echoed in the living room more often than not. The alcohol made my skin feel tingly and there was a pleasant buzz in the back of my head, up-lifting my mood even more as I let loose after the stressful day I have had. Yunho, tipsy but not dumb, stuck to my side as best as he could, muttering things to me about Wooyoung he had noticed, and I decided to let him be and nod along to whatever far-fetched thing he was saying. Like the fact that his tattoos looked rather like pagan sigils used in witchcraft than just normal tattoos, or the fact that his eyes continued getting hazier and darker the further we got into the night, the whites of his eyes almost glowing. And then there was his irrational fear of Mingi, flinching away any time the blonde as much as looked his way, making Yunho almost climb on my back when Mingi decided to sit next to him, their legs and shoulders brushing against each other. I had to give it to Yunho, there was something weird about Mingi that I haven’t noticed before. He looked to be borderline salivating and it was almost as if he was constantly sniffing the air—and if he leaned in and took a deep waft of the air after Yunho basically ran off to the bathroom, I decided to store that away in the back of my head and analyse it another day. Similar to Wooyoung, Mingi had thick tattoos lining his chest—he was rather fond of deep cut V tank tops—and his arms had wire-like ink decorating his fair skin. The guy sometimes looked sickly, and his platinum hair only added to his pale complexion. I have asked Wooyoung more than once if Mingi was okay, and apparently, he just rarely went out in the sun. Come to think of it, the two had similar dressing styles and even spoke similarly; maybe they are from the same province.

Before we’d sit down and start the movie—something Yunho has chosen and I already forgot the name of—I went to the kitchen to mix another cocktail for myself, a lot tamer and less alcohol infused compared to the last one Mingi had mixed for me. I was in the process of pouring Vodka into my tall glass just as Yunho came basically bulldozering inside the kitchen. His eyes were wide as I looked back, and his cheeks were completely flushed, having reached his ears even. My eyebrows rose and I chuckled amused as he rushed to the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing his face and soaking the collar of his white t-shirt, his silver rosary not hidden underneath his t-shirt anymore.

“Are you okay—” Before I could finish my sentence, his head whipped around and he gave me a wide-eyed stare.

“No!” He exclaimed and then glanced behind himself frantically, as if he was being chased by a monster and had to hide, “That guy—Mingi­, there’s something very wrong with him, Y/N!”

“What do you mean?” I asked confused, grabbing the cranberry juice to mix the Vodka with, “Does this have to do anything with your whole belief of Wooyoung being a serial killer?”

“But he is!” Yunho whisper-exclaimed, crowding against my side as he leaned down so that he could continue whispering, “And Mingi isn’t completely sane either—he sniffed me in the hallway when we crossed paths when I was coming here and he was going to the bathroom! He literally leaned in, crowded me against the wall, and sniffed me, Y/N!”

I pressed my lips together and hummed, closing the lid of the cranberry juice as I grabbed a teaspoon to mix the drinks, “Yeah, he’s probably drunk too. People act weird when they are drunk. Remember that one time my ex tried to jump out of a window almost blackout drunkenly?”

“That’s—Hongjoong was a freak! You can’t compare him to Wooyoung and Mingi!” I leaned against the counter and raised my eyebrows at my best friend, intrigued all of a sudden where this conversation was going.

“So are you saying you two slept together because he was a freak and not because maybe he’s not so straight and you were drunk as fuck—” Yunho’s eyes widened into saucers and he pressed his palm against my mouth, his blush spreading down to his neck and no doubt to his chest. He looked mortified as he gaped, apparently struggling to find his words just yet.

“That—that was—that’s irreal! I never—I didn’t even know he was into me!” Poor Yunho, I tried to maintain a serious face as he spiraled even more into despair, his other hand clutching my nape, “Girl, we agreed to never bring that up, why are we talking about Hongjoong and I sleeping together, I—wait, I thought you didn’t care, Y/N, is this why you love to torture me? Because you secretly hate me?! You weren’t even together anymore; you have long forgotten about him and I was on a resort on a vacation with my miserable family and he was there and he was hot and I just—”

The laughter I couldn’t hold back anymore was loud and atrocious as I threw my head back, my throat starting to hurt from how loud it was. I could feel tears spring into my eyes as I held onto the counter for dear life, Yunho becoming speechless as he grabbed my glass and took a long sip of my drink. My belly was shaking and contracting from the good laugh I had, and once I had calmed down, I had to wipe my tears away. Yunho looked a mixture of angry, in despair and amused, and I threw myself at him as my arms tangled around his neck, hugging him tightly like I knew he liked it. His body was tense, but then he slowly eased up into the embrace and returned the tight hug, sighing loudly into my ear.

“Baby, Hongjoong is a closed chapter—has been for long—I’m actually glad you got the best lay of your life with my ex, even I can’t deny he wasn’t good in bed.” A beat of silence passed before we burst out laughing at the same time, Yunho’s body shaking as he nuzzled his nose against my neck affectionately, “How the fuck did we end up talking about Hongjoong when you were just being paranoid over Mingi for no reason?”

“Not for ‘no reason’, woman!” Yunho exclaimed and pulled back, eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed my glass again and took a long sip—there goes the drink I mixed for myself, “He looks at me like he wants to eat me—”

“Is that so bad?” I wriggled my eyebrows suggestively and Yunho groaned, grabbing my chin.

“Focus, woman.” He pointed his finger at me in warning, and I giggled as I stuck my tongue out, licking at his hand because I knew it would disgust him, “In an ideal setting, it wouldn’t be bad, but his saliva was literally dripping down his chin, Y/N! And I don’t know how else to put this into words, but he looks demonic, okay?!”

I chuckled, my eyebrows shooting up at what my best friend just said. Okay, we were apparently reaching the delirious stage of drunkenness, “Well then…Wooyoung and Mingi are one demonic bestie duo, huh?”

“I am being serious!” Yunho exclaimed in annoyance, fed up that I wasn’t on the same wave length as him, “You’re so irritating, you never believe me. But you will see it’s going to bite you in the ass—”

“Isn’t that what you want Mingi to do to you—”

“We’re watching that movie, now!” Yunho pressed his palm against my mouth again as I giggled, grabbing a bottle of water as Yunho took my glass and pulled me after himself, back inside the living room. Mingi was sprawled out on the sofa with Wooyoung sitting in front of the bed, typing away on his phone. As Yunho and I barged inside, Wooyoung lowered the volume of the music and Mingi sat up, eyes almost glowing as he leered in Yunho’s direction. My giant best friend grimaced and gave me a pointed stare as he went to fetch the remote control.

“Are we watching that movie now?” Wooyoung asked unimpressed, raising one eyebrow as I plopped down on the pillow next to him, leaning close as I grinned.

“Yes, excited?!”

“No, I’d rather be sleeping.” Wooyoung muttered and gave me a short glare before he grabbed the glass Yunho had placed on the coffee table to take a long sip of it.

“Hey! I made that drink for myself, why is everyone else drinking it but me?!” I whined and slapped away Wooyoung’s hand as he placed it back onto the coffee table, barely anything in the glass anymore, “Asshole.”

Wooyoung smirked as he looked at me, making me roll my eyes at him. Yunho, huffing loudly as he ruffled his brown hair had finally found the remote control as he joined us, leaning against the sofa, eyes switching between myself and all the empty space next to Mingi, “Won’t you sit with me?”

“I’m going to sit with you.” Mingi’s deep voice was strong and determined as he grabbed Yunho’s arm, basically yanking him down next to himself. Yunho went stiff as his eyes widened, sending me SOS signals with his eyes, but I just chuckled and turned my back to him, knowing that I’d never hear the end of it. Wooyoung’s jaw hung open as he gave his friend a rather nasty glare, subtly shaking his head no at Mingi, the two communicating with their gazes. I snatched the remote control from Yunho and finally turned on the TV, wanting to get on with this movie watching already. If I heard Yunho gasp and looked back to see Mingi squeezed uncomfortably tightly against his side, eyes boring into the side of my best friend’s head, I bit back the laugh that threatened to bubble up and instead kicked Wooyoung’s leg to annoy him.

            The movie took nearly three hours and by the time we have watched it everyone was sleepy, and so, the movie night was cut short as the time was nearing 2am. Yunho was drunk, not to the point that he wouldn’t be able to take care of himself, but he’s had brighter times. I proposed to him to sleep over tonight, but he insisted on going home as he apparently had to be somewhere early in the morning tomorrow. I just shrugged and then offered to walk him home, having sobered up enough, but he insisted he was a big guy and that he could take care of himself. And as if Mingi had been planning for this moment, he swept in and said that he’d make sure Yunho got home safely and that he'd text Wooyoung to let me know my best friend was safe and sound in his little apartment. I didn’t know how to proceed next, knowing that Yunho felt uncomfortable around Mingi, but when I opened my mouth to interject, Yunho threw a heated look Mingi’s way and scoffed, clumsily tying his shoelaces as he accepted Mingi’s offer, yanking the blonde man out of our dorm by the collar of his leather jacket. Wooyoung just blinked and then gave me a lasting look, sighing deeply as he muttered something under his breath which sounded a lot like Yunho had no idea what he had just done. Suddenly feeling a little bit skeptical, I could only hope Yunho was wrong about this whole serial killer fiasco.

“Mingi’s a good guy, right?” I had asked as I followed Wooyoung into the kitchen, my phone still connected to the speaker as music was quietly playing in the background.

“Why, do you fear for your beloved Yunho’s life?” Wooyoung’s voice was coated in amusement, but there was something darker in its undertone, almost morbid like fascination. I was taken aback and hesitated for a second in the doorway.

“He’s my best friend, somebody I love. Of course I fear for his life, should I call the cops—”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Wooyoung’s eyes were crinkled as he turned his head, the first time he’s ever looked amused by something I have said, “Mingi won’t do to him anything your friend doesn’t want. I know you noticed him acting weird, but that’s just what alcohol does to Mingi.”

I felt myself relax a little upon hearing Wooyoung’s words, and I grinned as I waltzed inside the kitchen, pulling myself up to sit on the counter by the sink, “I knew it, I told Yunho he was just overreacting, but he never really believes me.”

Wooyoung paused for a second and then turned on the faucet, taking the sponge to pour dishwasher on it, “Maybe you’d live longer if you had listened to him…”

My eyebrows furrowed as I handed Wooyoung the first dirty bowl, “What do you mean?”

He chuckled as he washed the bowl and I crossed my legs, narrowing my eyes at him. He didn’t seem drunk despite having drunk twice the alcohol I have, but then again, I didn’t know much about him. He was quite the mysterious person and kept everyone at arms-length. However, I did notice he was touchier than usual, kissing Mingi’s cheeks rather often while we were playing board games, especially if Mingi nailed something.

“You’re naïve,” Wooyoung answered as he looked at me, taking the other used bowl I handed him, “and too trusting of others, my love. People will take advantage of you.”

“Nobody’s taken advantage of me before.” I huffed and watched as Wooyoung washed the rest of the dishes, a smirk on his lips as he kept glancing at me, “And just because of what I seem to be like to you and to other people doesn’t mean I’m dumb, or that I don’t notice things.”

Wooyoung smirked as he grabbed onto the edge of the sink, leaning closer to me as his eyes seemed a lot darker than they usually were, “Really now? Do you just play dumb then, for the fun of it?”

“Not for the fun of it,” I averted my eyes as Wooyoung bit his bottom lip, his eyes raking over my body as I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling a little flustered under his watchful gaze, “it just happens, it’s what my personality is like—and I know you don’t like me.”

“I’ve never said I don’t like you.” Wooyoung tsked, leaning closer as he continued to wash a pan, “I’m just not too fond of obnoxious personas.”

I scoffed and grinned at him fakely, making him smirk for the nth time tonight as he turned his head and looked down at the pan he was washing. I didn’t say anything to him as I continued looking at him, wondering whether the lights were playing a trick on my eyes, or whether the black ink really seemed to swirl under his skin. A bit too curious and with the last remnants of the alcohol in my system pushing me to do as I wished, I tentatively reached out and gently traced the abstract tattoos on his left arm. Wooyoung froze, eyebrows furrowing as he whipped his head around, his serene demeanor back to its unimpressed and glaring one. His muscles tensed the longer my fingers touched his soft, but unnaturally hot, flesh and he suddenly turned the water off with his other hand, all the dishes washed. I snapped out of it and gulped nervously as I looked away, turning away from Wooyoung. I could feel his eyes on me as he walked towards the table and grabbed a towel to dry his hands in, lips slowly morphing into another attractive smirk.

“You know,” He started, voice low and almost sultry, “humans usually cherish their lives and have a deep rotted fear of losing it.”

I hummed and picked at the cuticle of my thumb, seeing him approach the counter from my peripheral vision.

“I’ve never quite met someone like you,” He paused and chuckled, and I saw him grab something from my peripheral as I had drawn blood from ripping the cuticle up, “a little stupid and ditzy, yet loving life so intensely.”

I gulped and finally looked up, eyes falling on Wooyoung’s right hand as it was slowly inching towards his abandoned butcher knife. I felt a lump raise into my throat as I looked back in his eyes, the same feeling that I have felt in the darkroom returning. I felt like his prey once again, defenseless and unable to run or hide if he were to do something unacceptable to me. His dark eyes seemed like endless pits of darkness, boring into mine as its whites seemed to glow brighter. I gulped again, hoping for the lump to disappear, but instead, something deep coiled in my stomach as his thin fingers wrapped around the handle of the butcher knife, his plush lips pulling into a sly smirk. He looked amused; his sun-kissed skin almost glowing as if he was feeding off of something. His upper teeth got caught in the silver piercing in his bottom lip, and I found myself wondering again what he tasted liked. I cleared my throat and licked my lips, our gazes connecting as Wooyoung raised one eyebrow, looking like he knew something I didn’t. My heart had picked up its rhythm, beating quickly, almost in anticipation as he dragged his hand against the counter, the sound of the knife getting dragged across the counter making me wince.

“You should have left when you still could—” I didn’t think for another second, pushing the alarming bells to the back of my mind as I jumped off the counter, marching up to him. Wooyoung seemed taken aback by my confident stance, and as his eyebrows furrowed, whatever he was about to say swallowed down, the littlest remnants of alcohol in my bloodstream fueled my curiosity strong enough to make me grab onto his cheeks and yank our lips together. Wooyoung yelped, the sound getting lost in the back of his throat as my eyebrows furrowed, his face just as hot as his arm was. But I was curious—and sort of needy from all that alcohol—and so I didn’t pull back, no, I pressed my lips harder against his, his silver lip ring cutting into my own lips. I ignored the tiny voice in the back of my head telling me to run, to get as far away as possible from this peculiar man. Suddenly, I felt his left hand grab my wrist harshly. My heart was hammering against my chest, making my temples sweat as Wooyoung’s body heat was too warm, and at last, I decided to pull away. Now at least I knew what his plush lips felt like, soft and a little wet, the lip ring prominent and cold against the flushed skin.

My grip loosened around his cheeks and I had started pulling back when suddenly something loudly crashed against the tile floors, and both of Wooyoung’s hands had me pulling back in by the cheeks as his calloused hands harshly cradled against my cheek. My eyebrows shot up, but I fluttered my eyes closed again and instead pressed our bodies together, fingers tangling into his loose t-shirt at his sides. Wooyoung’s perfume was still as overbearing as always, and it made me feel lightheaded as he suddenly parted his lips, sucking my lower lip between his teeth to clamp down onto it harshly. I hissed and tangled one hand into his long black hair, slightly yanking on the strands to get him to release my bottom lip. Wooyoung chuckled deep in the back of his throat and finally released my lip, pulling back. My eyes opened as I threw him a glare, and from being this close to him, I could finally see his eyes were black and the whites of them were actually glowing. Before I could allow my brain to really react to that discovery, I pressed my lips back against Wooyoung’s, walking him backwards as our lips slotted against each other perfectly. Our pace wasn’t slow and sweet nor patient, it was rather rushed and sloppy as Wooyoung kept trying to bite onto my lower lip, his teeth feeling sharper than anyone’s before; he could’ve drawn blood if he wanted to.

He gasped when he collided against the table and I smirked as I pushed him against it, throwing my left arm around his shoulders as I played with his hair with my right hand, Wooyoung’s legs parting as he leaned against the table comfortably. To tease him as I figured he’d hate it, I pulled back just enough to lick at his lips, prompting him to tsk and open up his lips enough for me to slip my tongue past them and into his open and inviting mouth. Wooyoung moaned in an instant, fingers of his left hand digging into my lower back, my t-shirt having ridden up, his nails burning my skin as they dug into it, and I felt my legs go a little weak as he eagerly sucked on my tongue, more moans leaving the back of his throat. I didn’t think he’d be very vocal, and suddenly I felt heated all over as he pulled me even more into himself, to the point it was almost painful, his right hand holding onto my neck firmly, fingers curling around my skin.

I let him lick into my mouth, explore it to his liking as my left hand travelled down his shoulder to his pecks, squeezing and fondling his nipple through the t-shirt, making Wooyoung groan as he suddenly whirled us around, placing me up on the table. I gasped and found myself pushed down against the table by the hand Wooyoung had around my throat, his eyes glazed over as I struggled to catch my breath, Wooyoung’s chest was rising and falling rapidly as well. His lips looked swollen and I bit my bottom lip as Wooyoung ever so slowly leaned down. His fingers tightened around my neck and made my stomach coil as he suddenly leaned down, lips brushing against the exposed skin of my lower stomach due to my tank top having ridden up again.

The breath stuttered in my throat as he pressed his lips firmly against my skin, his piercing feeling cold against my flushed skin, and I grabbed his wrist with one hand as he teasingly sunk his teeth into the skin of my stomach, making me grunt as I looked down. But he was already looking up with a smirk on his lips, chin brushing against my exposed skin. I gulped, my grip tightening against his wrist as he held eye contact while slowly kissing his way up, making the hairs on my arms stand up. I trapped him in between my legs as I raised my thighs and wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer in as he lit my skin on fire with his kisses, making it harder to breathe as he squeezed my neck just a little bit more, making me gulp almost nervously.

Wooyoung’s lips were finally hovering over mine and our breaths fanned each other’s faces as we stared down each other, probably wondering where this was going. I tangled my fingers of my free hand in his hair again and brought his head closer down so that I could gently take his lip ring between my teeth, making Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he whined quite loudly. I didn’t expect him to curse nor to slam his lips right onto mine next, let alone feel his bulge as he rutted against my thigh, making me moan as I was slowly starting to crave some friction. Wooyoung seemed too far gone to care about the quality of the kiss as his lips moved messily against mine, biting at my lips and sucking on my tongue as he rolled his hips against mine more frequently, driving me closer to wanting more. And I didn’t dwell much on the feeling, I grabbed the hand he had rested next to my head and gently guided it down my body, letting it rest where I needed him most. Wooyoung moaned loudly as he pulled back, cupping my clothed core and applying the slightest pressure, making me sigh loudly as I bared my neck more for him to do whatever he wanted with it.

And then—as quickly as everything happened, it all stopped. Wooyoung’s body almost flew off mine, eyes wide and expression conveying complete shock as he stared down at me sprawled out on the table and I stopped breathing for a second as I stared up at him. Yeah, I guess we shouldn’t have done that, perhaps my curiosity led me a bit too far. But I couldn’t deny it anymore, Wooyoung was attractive. He wiped his mouth with the back of his palm and I chuckled as I sat up, running my fingers through my hair.

“This—”

“I’m going to sleep.” I cut him off as I announced with a chuckle, hoping off the table, watching Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Thanks for the kiss, handsome.”

“What the fuck,” Wooyoung muttered and he turned after me as I walked past him, “you know how to make-out?”

I snorted as I paused in the doorway, giving him a sneaky look, “I’m not that naïve anymore, am I?”

“Goodnight.” Wooyoung’s voice had turned cold, unimpressed once again. I chuckled as suddenly Wooyoung’s expression turned nonchalant again, and I shook my head as I was off to sleep off the alcohol and pray that I wouldn’t be hungover in the morning.

            And as expected, the alcohol I have drank last night came back full force in the morning, to bite me in the ass. The bile in my throat that threatened to send me running to the bathroom refused to go away, and feeling like a complete zombie, I had no choice but to get out of bed and brew some coffee for myself. It was the only thing that could help this awful hungover, and I stood stared blindly at the counter as I listened to the shitty coffee machine make noises it wasn’t supposed to make. Wooyoung didn’t like coffee, so it was mostly me who used it, and because I didn’t have enough money, I couldn’t buy a better machine. This one would do for two more months, until I was finished with this university year—not that I was too happy of moving back home for the summer break, but it had to be done as I didn’t have a job yet and couldn’t stay in the city. Yunho would probably let me move in with him, but I didn’t want to bother him as long as I didn’t have a job. I sighed as my phone on the table dinged once, then twice, then thrice, and I dragged myself to it very lazily and painfilled. Yunho’s contact name stared back at me as I curiously tapped onto his message, wondering if he was feeling any better than I was.

My fake boyfie<3: Y/N. I…might have fucked up Can I come over?

My eyebrows raised as I walked back to the coffee machine to turn it off, desperate to feel the first drop of caffeine on my tongue.

Me: I’m on the brink of death and I also have to study Did something bad happen? Can’t you tell me through text? My fake boyfie<3: I don’t want to type this down, but it can wait Don���t mind that your best friend is on the brink of death too, for other reasons than you…

I scoffed and took a sip of my coffee, the plainness of it harsh, but very much so welcomed right now.

Me: Stop being dramatic and tell me instead. My fake boyfie<3: Are you free tomorrow for brunch? Me: Sure am, see you at our usual spot? My fake boyfie<3: Yes…unless I get abducted by a fucking demon Y/N. Me: Lol, okay Not you being paranoid again Ttyl

The loud footsteps coming to a stop in the doorway made me look up from my phone, and I smiled upon seeing Wooyoung’s dishevelled form. Someone had a good night’s sleep, apparently, and seemed rather fine despite the many drinks he’s had, interesting.

“Morning.” I smiled at Wooyoung as I leaned against the counter behind me, taking a sip of my coffee. His eyes narrowed as he walked inside the kitchen, never leaving me as he was headed towards the fridge. I snorted and watched as he grabbed the cartoon of milk greedily, then let the fridge door slam shut.

“Shouldn’t you be hungover?” He asked, eyes narrowing as I downed the remaining bitter coffee in one go.

“I am, but can’t let that stop me.” I shrugged, and walked to the sink to wash my cup.

“It’s a full moon tonight, are you going anywhere out?” Wooyoung’s voice sounded suspiciously nice and forced, and I threw him a quick quizzical glance before turning the faucet off.

“No, I have to study for our exam on Monday.” I sighed and wiped my hands down on my pyjama pants.

“Good.” My eyebrows furrowed as Wooyoung smirked, turning his back to me as he muttered something under his breath. Knowing that I couldn’t waste any more time on useless things, I walked back to my room to study some last-minute things I have missed out on previously. Wooyoung and his quirkiness could wait for another day to be deciphered.

            Studying with a hangover was the worst possible idea I’ve ever had, but since I have procrastinated terribly, I had no choice but to power through the suffering like a champ, and save the whining for another day. By 10pm I felt completely brainless and tired out of my mind—quite literally—and so, I have decided it was time to call it a day. I have studied as much as possible, and now I felt positive about passing this class—unless the teacher has something secretly against me, unlike with Wooyoung, with whom he isn’t so secretive about the fact that he can’t stand my dormmate. With a rumbling stomach and body begging for a long and refreshing shower, I pulled my hair into a bun with the short strands falling out annoyingly so, and changed into some fresh pajamas so that I wouldn’t have to carry it with me to the bathroom. I stepped into my flip flops and shut the lights off, throwing my door open.

The first thing I noticed was the salt weirdly scattered in a perfect line right underneath my doorway. That wasn’t there in the morning, and I have never seen Wooyoung place it there before, so I made sure not to smudge it as I stepped over it—for some weird reason waiting for something to happen. But nothing did, and so, with a shrug, I closed the door behind me and looked around the dark living room. Smog seemed to lightly coat the air, and I scrunched my nose up at the overbearing scent of something strong—rather earthy and weed-like smelling—making me wonder what Wooyoung was up to.

I knew his room was off limits, but I also knew he was home. And the smog seemed to come from underneath his door. The whole dorm seemed to hum lowly, hushed voices traveling through Wooyoung’s closed door, and I bit my bottom lip, wondering whether I should approach him or not. But I’ve never been inside his room before and I was curious—I have always been—and almost as if I couldn’t control myself, I found my feet carrying me towards it. The hushed voices turned into low whispers the closer I got, and I found them changing in pitch as I gulped nervously, raising my hand to knock on his door. Despite the weird drive to barge inside, I felt myself hesitate for a second—and then I was knocking on his door, not waiting for an answer as I pulled it open and stepped inside. However, the sight I was presented with wasn’t something usual, nor one I had expected to see.

Wooyoung’s room was coated in pitch darkness, except for the black candles that were placed in a circle and lit up, barely illuminating the weird sign that was painted on the floorboard with black ink. Salt was drawn in a circle around the candles and the drawing, and the room reeked of that earthy and weed-like smell I have felt earlier, making me cough. Wooyoung was sat on his knees inside the circle, in the middle of it, three different ancient looking books opened up, one of them sizzling slightly. He wore a sleeveless tank top once again and grey sweatpants, the black ink underneath his skin darker than before as it swirled around, curling around his arms in weird patterns. The floorboard outside of the salt and candle circle was covered in different runes—I could only assume that’s what they were—and as Wooyoung’s gaze met mine, I was taken aback by his completely black eyes. The whites of them were completely gone, and they instead looked like endless pits of blackness, keeping me rooted to my spot as my eyes widened. When he grinned widely, his teeth were sharper and much whiter than usually, and the image sent my heart into a frenzy.

“Well, well, well,” Wooyoung chuckled, sitting back on his ankles, “exactly who I needed, thank you for making this easier for me.”

I gulped, feeling unsure and really confused, “Uh, what’s this?”

“I suppose since you’re about to die, I can tell you…” Wooyoung chuckled as his fingers touched the yellow paper of the book he had right in front of himself, “It’s a death ritual, my love, more exactly a sacrificial one.”

“Oh,” I whispered, feeling the hairs on my arms stand up, “that’s—I thought satanism is illegal?!”

Wooyoung threw his head back and laughed darkly, making a shiver run down my spine, “Satanism is beyond me, my love, I am what satanist love to blindly and dumbly worship.”

I gulped, eyebrows furrowing as I tried to think whatever that could mean as Wooyoung’s eyes fell back on my figure, narrowing as he leered at me, “So you’re like…a cult leader then?”

Wooyoung’s expression fell for a second, jaw clenching as there was a snort coming from somewhere I couldn’t see. My eyebrows furrowed as I surveyed the room, but the darkness was too permeating for me to see anything beyond it. The candlelight cast eerie shadows over Wooyoung’s face as he grabbed something that lay next to his left hand—his favourite butcher knife. I gulped and considered leaving the room for a second, but I felt rooted to my spot, like something was keeping me there.

“You’re so dumb, it’s tiring at this point.” Wooyoung hissed and I chuckled, scratching the back of my head in embarrassment, “But I also must be grateful to your naivety, or else you wouldn’t still be here.”

“I pretty much don’t want to be here anymore, but I find it hard to leave when something invisible is clutching at my ankles.” I grinned widely at Wooyoung, feeling a little panic rising up in my veins as he chuckled, slowly standing up. Why did he look taller than before? That wasn’t a good sign, was it?! I chewed on my bottom lip, tensely watching out for his next move. That butcher knife clutched tightly in his right hand didn’t seem so inoffensive anymore.

“Are you terrified now that your useless little cross can’t do anything to protect you from me?” My eyebrows raised in surprise as I looked down, patting the golden cross that sat underneath my hoodie. I never thought Wooyoung noticed my necklace, I always wore it underneath my clothes as I wasn’t a very religious person. I only wore it because my mother thought it would protect me from demonic and evil entities and energies. Don’t know about that anymore…Wooyoung looks pretty demonic to me right now.

“I’m more confused than terrified, to be honest, Wooyoung.” I chuckled and shrugged at the same time, ignoring the cold sweat my body broke out in all of a sudden. My heart was still pounding fast in my chest, but I ignored it.

“I can’t be bothered anymore with you; you are so irritating.” Wooyoung groaned as he twirled the knife in his hands, “I am going to stab you, and you won’t scream. And before blood loss can kill you, I’m going to carve your heart out.”

Well, shit. That didn’t sound too pleasant, nor like a fun time. I gulped, my mouth having gone dry, and I plastered on my friendliest and most innocent smile, hoping that it would somehow change Wooyoung’s mind and make him like me in just a few seconds. Perhaps he’d choose someone else for his sacrifice then, “Okay, but…may I know why you chose me for this complicated and totally cool sacrifice of yours?”

Wooyoung froze for a second, looking puzzled as deep giggles came from somewhere in the darkness again, making me look around confused. Was there actually someone else in the room with us?

For a second, the look Wooyoung gave me screamed that I was completely mad, and then he pinched his nose and heaved out a long sigh, “I need someone pure and innocent for this ritual to work. You see, I’m a demon but I’m not exactly very powerful, nor everlasting, just yet and the heart and blood of a virgin will help me rise in the ranks.”

Oh, “Wooyoung, uhm, this is a little bit awkward, but, uh, what I’m getting from what you just said is that you assume I’m a virgin?”

Wooyoung smirked as he stepped over his ancient looking books, “Exactly. You’re perfect for me, my love, I have to thank you—”

“Actually, you don’t.” I cut him off with a chuckle, pushing my hair behind my ears as I felt my cheeks flush, “I’m not a virgin.”

Wooyoung froze, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. There was another loud snort in the room, and my eyes narrowed as I tried to see past the darkness to notice an even darker form, but I wasn’t successful, “You can’t lie to me, there’s nothing you’ll say that will save you now—”

“I’m not lying, though.” I shrugged, clasping my hands together behind my back, “I really am not a virgin.”

“What?” Wooyoung scoffed, eyebrows furrowing as he took me in, his dark eyes raking over my body slowly, “How is that possible?!”

“Wait,” I deadpanned, mouth falling open in hurt, “are you saying all this time you assumed I was a virgin and kept trying to kill me?! I can’t believe Yunho was right—”

“Yunho knows?!” It was Wooyoung’s turn to look shocked, eyes darting around the room as they stopped on something further inside his room, near his bed. I looked towards it and narrowed my eyes, trying really hard to see whether there was someone there or not. And then, almost as if a mist lifted off that side of the room, I was able to make out platinum blonde hair.

“He doesn’t know we’re demons,” Suddenly a deep voice spoke up, sounding beyond amused, it was Mingi, “I mean, he doesn’t know you are a demon.”

“Then how—” Wooyoung’s head whipped back in my direction, his eyes narrowing again, “you told him everything?!”

“Obviously!” I exclaimed with a scoff, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I noticed my heart wasn’t beating that fast anymore, even my muscles seemed more relaxed, “He’s my best friend, of course I tell him everything!”

“But then—” Wooyoung paused, pointing his knife at me, “You really aren’t a virgin then?!”

“No, I’m not!” I exclaimed exasperated, rolling my eyes as I saw movement in my peripheral vision, “I literally lost my virginity when I was seventeen, Wooyoung. And I mean, I know you still might not believe me, but there’s someone who can prove it—oh, hi, Mingi—if we were to hit up Yunho right now, he could totally prove that I’m not a virgin—wait! I don’t mean that Yunho and I slept together, because he’s not exactly the straightest person I know—”

“Yeah, I know.” Mingi’s plump lips were pulled into the widest smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief as he finally made himself visible, walking towards us with his arms crossed in front of his chest. My eyebrows furrowed and I took a deep breath to fill my lungs with air, watching Mingi with confusion.

“What do you mean ‘you know’?” Mingi remained silent as he nonchalantly leaned against Wooyoung’s dresser, raising an eyebrow smugly. Oh. Oh. My jaw fell open as my eyes raked over Mingi, something in my stomach coiling as realization dawned upon me. No. Fucking. Way. There’s no way Yunho and Mingi…is that why Yunho was so desperate to speak to me today? Oh, my God, “You slept with Yunho?!”

Mingi chuckled as he looked down at his hands, checking his black painted nails with much interest, “It’s more like he slept with me, but yes, and it was pretty fucking amazing—”

“Can we focus?!” Wooyoung exclaimed, throwing Mingi a heated glare before he turned back to face me, looking rather pissed off.

“Right, right.” I huffed, throwing Mingi a small glare before I looked back at Wooyoung, “You said Mingi was a good guy…”

“I also mentioned he wouldn’t do anything to your friend as long as he didn’t want it—”

“Oh, he rather desperately wanted it—”

“Enough!” I exclaimed, thankful for the invisible force keeping me rooted or else I’d be at Mingi’s throat, beating him up for taking advantage of Yunho when he was drunk, “Fuck, okay, so Yunho was in the next room when I slept with my boyfriend for the first time—and many other times to be fair, poor Yuyu suffered enough because we were often horny—you can literally ask him. I’m not a virgin, Wooyoung, so unless your sacrifice would still work, can you release me?!”

Wooyoung tsked, tapping the knife against his head rather carelessly, “This is bad…I can’t believe I wasted six months on finding ways to kill you, and you aren’t even a virgin. I have to wait another year until I can perform this ritual again, Y/N.”

I scoffed and glared at my dormmate, “Is it my fault you dumbly assumed I was one—why did you even think that?!”

“Well, first of all, you’re super lame.” Wooyoung gave me a once over, pursing his lips as he placed one hand on his hip, “You’ve got no game and you never brought any guys over. I didn’t even see you interact with one, besides Yunho, and he doesn’t count. Secondly, you’re too loud, nosy, and annoying—no guy likes that, my love. Thirdly, I don’t like you, getting rid of you would’ve been perfect, but now I’ll have to continue being dormmates with you for another two years—straight up horror.”

Well, that wasn’t too nice, and it did certainly hurt a little bit, “You know what, fuck you, Wooyoung. You’re not the nicest person—”

“I’m literally a demon, but whatever—”

“Shut up, idiot, I’m talking now.” I snapped, glaring at Wooyoung as I was able to move again, and I stepped closer to his stupid circle, making his eyebrows shoot up, “Despite our differences, I remained nice to you, and here you were, planning my death all this time. You know what? It serves you right that your stupid little ritual failed and you deserve to wait another year until you can try again. And by the way, it’s on you for not realizing sooner, considering what happened last night—”

“Oh, what happened last night?” Mingi grinned like a little child, wriggling his eyebrows at us.

“Shut up, I’m mad at you.” I snapped, directing my glare onto him now, “You shouldn’t have slept with a drunken Yunho, I’m going to beat you up real bad for it, you just wait. And Wooyoung and I made-out—quite heavily at that—who knew Wooyoung is just a whiney idiot—”

“Okay, you’re mad, but you don’t have to call me an idiot in each sentence you say—”

“Yeah, I have to, idiot—”

“Okay, for the record—” Mingi’s hands were raised in the air, eyes big as he looked comically innocent, “Yunho wasn’t drunk by the time we got to the fun part, Y/N. I might be a demon, but I like my partners sober and rather conscious when we get down to business—”

“Just say sex like any normal person, you dumb fuck.” Wooyoung groaned, throwing his butcher knife onto the floor as he sighed, looking at the mess he had created, as if it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t go through with his ritual.

“But I’m not a normal person.” Mingi teased, sticking his tongue out as Wooyoung sighed, running his hands through his hair multiple times. I sighed and turned to leave the room, but Wooyoung yelped, making me stop and turn back.

“Where are you going?!” He sounded rather panicked, eyes wide as I rolled my eyes, “What are you going to do now?”

“I am going to take a fucking bath and if you come inside, I swear to God, Wooyoung, I will cut your balls off in your sleep—demon or not.” I narrowed my eyes at him, “Unlike somebody, I was busy studying my ass off today, and now I have a headache thanks to your awful incense—open the windows for me, please.”

“So, you—won’t call a priest for an exorcism or the Catholic church and the Pope on me?” Wooyoung’s voice sounded small, lower lip jutting out as I looked at him confused, wondering if I had started hallucinating now. Was this Wooyoung’s real personality? Gosh, I desperately needed that bath and sleep.

“Do you still plan on killing me?” I raised my eyebrows as Mingi’s phone buzzed. He smirked as he unlocked it, and I didn’t miss the quick glance he took at me. That fucker, he must be texting with Yunho now.

“Not really.” Wooyoung muttered, sounding rather disappointed. I scoffed and stepped over the threshold, grabbing the handle of his door.

“Great, good to know.” I muttered and plastered on a fake wide smile, “Then, my dear dormmate, can you put out your candles before they fucking burn down our whole dorm? Last time I checked, carpets aren’t fireproof. What sort of idiot sets candles alight near a very flammable thing? And let me not even get started on the wooden floorboards—”

“Don’t worry, it isn’t his first time doing this.” Mingi chuckled, and then extended his leg, putting out a candle with the sole of his shoe. Which, shouldn’t have been on his feet, but I had a feeling he hasn’t come through the front door like a normal person would’ve.

“Oh, shit.” Wooyoung muttered and then quickly got on all fours, blowing out the candles one by one. I shook my head and went to leave, but paused and looked at Wooyoung with a shit eating grin.

“Wooyoung?” He hummed and cast a fleeting glance my way, too busy with making sure no candle would burn his carpet to ashes, “You’ve got one day to study for our exam, you know that, right? And with how much Mr. Kim dislikes you…I wonder if you’ve got some ritual to help you pass your grades too…”

Mingi giggled and then crouched down next to Wooyoung, murmuring something under his breath that I didn’t understand before he broke the salt circle, and stepped inside of it to help his friend clean up faster.

“Can’t you just help me out with your notes?!” Wooyoung snapped, throwing a heated glare my way. I chuckled and leaned against the door, smiling sweetly at him.

“Weren’t you just about to sacrifice me for an everlasting life and more power?” I singsonged, “You’ll have to make it up to me generously before I help you out, handsome.”

“So, like…” Mingi looked up, eyes twinkling with mischief, “with sex?”

“Mingi! Shut up!” Wooyoung and I exclaimed at the same time, making Mingi pout with a hiss as he knocked over two of Wooyoung’s black candles. He grumbled something under his breath again, and then with a loud crack, he was gone. I blinked once, twice, and then sighed, feeling my mild headache turn into a full-on painful pounding. God, if I sleep for a whole week, will this madness stop?!

“I can make you all sorts of potions,” Wooyoung spoke up after the stretched silence, smiling tentatively, “to help you relax while you bathe, or when it’s storming outside to help you fall asleep. If you catch a cold, I can brew you something that’ll instantly heal you or whatever you want, to be honest. I’m quite good at brewing stuff.”

“I thought you were a demon.” I hummed, leaning my head against the door as Wooyoung shrugged.

“There’s many types of demons, my love.” Wooyoung said, the whites of his eyes finally returning as he chuckled, “You’re lucky I’m the nicer kind.”

“Nicer, my ass.” I huffed and closed my eyes for a second as the headache made me feel nauseous.

“I’ll make you something for your headache, Y/N.” Wooyoung’s smile was soft as he stood again, gathering the thick books in his arms, “You go ahead and take a bath.”

“Okay, fine, but if I get sicker, I’m reporting you to the Pope.” Wooyoung froze for a second, and then his head fell back and he started laughing loudly, making me giggle quietly as I watched him place the books on his desk. He turned around and grinned widely as he leaned against his desk.

“So, a soothing potion, and—” His eyes narrowed for a second, and I wondered whether it was a trick of the light making them looked suddenly hazed over with desire, “Sex does fix quite a few issues, you know.”

I chuckled, my eyes narrowing challengingly at Wooyoung as I pushed off the door, undoing my bun, “Really? See you in ten minutes, then.”

I winked and then pulled my hoodie over my head, wearing nothing underneath it. Wooyoung’s eyes widened as they fell onto my breasts and I chuckled, threw my hoodie at him, and then turned around and took off towards the bathroom, skin on fire as I felt Wooyoung’s lustful gaze burn my body apart as I pushed the sweats off too before I stepped inside the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

“Fuck.” I heard him curse loudly before I turned on the water, letting the bath fill as I smirked to myself upon hearing Wooyoung drop something and curse again, run from his room to the kitchen, then back to his room.

Well, guess Yunho won’t be the only one getting that magick demon dick anymore. Another thing to bond over as besties, yay. At least he’s not getting boned by my ex, again.

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[urno1luv]

sana x reader

what if you were sana's new manager?

(also if this gets enough attention, i'll make a what-if series with different female idols, mostly pretty dark tho so dni if uncomfy!!)

cw: EXTREMELY ooc sana (she's so sweet, but here? not so much😭), age gap, power imbalance, obsessive/possessive behaviours, implied non-con towards the end

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

the moment you were promoted to being her manager, everything changed. sana was beautiful, poised, a fan favorite, and an idol who's been around for so long. naturally, you were really shocked, and slightly scared. imagine being in charge of a member of TWICE?? it was enough pressure to make anyone succumb quickly to stress, but you were dedicated to the job, which caught sana's attention, but not in a good way.

sana was not really pleased to see how... composed you were around her. the amount of compliments she got daily made her rather egotistical, so seeing you this "unbothered" when accompanying her to meetings and events really ticked her off, to put it simply. and when she heard about how old you were... sana's pride was HURT. a woman in charge of what she does, one who was younger than her by a few years? don't piss her off.

the next time you saw her, the mask fell off. sana would laugh at your smallest mistakes, throw away the food you gave her after a music show promotion, RIGHT in front of you, and treat every effort as something to be dismissed or useless. "do you think this is good enough? you were running late, i'm your fucking boss. seriously, what kind of manager are you?" sana scoffed as your face heated up in embarrassment, tears pricking at your eyes. why was she suddenly so mean? she stood closer to you, her tone laced with sadistic amusement. "don't cry, love, if you were more competent, i wouldn't be pissed, but... gotta work with what i got."

sana would sneer at your pathetic attempts to please her, and one night, she dropped all of her makeup brushes, and forced you to pick them up one by one. but what sana didn't expect was to feel.. something for you that very second. the way you always came back to her, still took care of her despite her countless insults towards you... she definitely went home to reflect on that.

the conclusion sana came to was that she really did like you. in her own, cruel way. and we've already established how she was an egotistical maniac who uses her power, so she refused to let you step out of line or get close to anyone else, and she’d punish you in small, petty ways if you tried. schedule changes without warning, "accidentally" spilling rumours that made things harder for you, and reminders that you only had this position because she allowed it. as much as you wanted to push back, the truth was undeniable: sana held your career—and your sanity—in her hands.

sana's fixation on you only seemed to get worse, as the months went by. and she made sure you KNEW it. she knew where you were at all times, texting you constantly, filling your phone with messages that were affectionate one moment and threatening the next. if you so much as glanced at anyone else, sana would go out of her way to isolate you, to sabotage anything that might distract you from her. "you’re mine," she'd whisper, almost tenderly, before tightening her grip on your waist as she pushed you against a wall. every attempt to set boundaries only seemed to feed her obsession. and with every passing day, you realized that she’d do anything, and i mean ANYTHING, to keep you by her side, whether you wanted it or not.

one fateful night, where she had dragged you to her penthouse, you would soon come to the realisation that sana was truly someone that you should've ran away from a loooong time ago. you sat stiffly on the edge of her bed, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows across the room. sana stood in front of you, close enough that you could feel the weight of her gaze. her hand moved to your shoulder, fingers pressing in with a possessive force that left no doubt who was in control. “don’t even think about leaving,” she whispered, her voice chillingly soft, as if daring you to defy her. sana leaned in, her other hand resting heavily between your legs, pinning you in place. every touch felt like a claim, each movement sending a quiet threat through the air. as her fingers tightened their hold, you realized escape wasn’t an option; you were exactly where she wanted you, and there was no way out.

sana's hands moved back up to your shoulders, firm and unyielding as she guided you back against the pillows, her hot tongue tracing possessively along your neck, the saliva cooling down quickly in the cold air, making your pulse race. she murmured sweet nothings into your ear, calming you down, voice low and commanding as she leaned in, body pressing onto yours. her hand slid down to your wrist, pinning it against the bed as her lips brushed close to your ear, each word a quiet, inescapable claim. the weight of sana's presence left no room for protest, every touch a reminder that here, in this room, you belonged entirely to her.

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

when you woke, the room was dark, save for the faint glow of her phone screen, casting eerie shadows across her face as sana sat beside you, watching. you tried to move, but a strange, deep ache reminded you how powerless you were in her world, in her hands. her fingers traced along your arm, and she smiled—a soft, chilling smile that only deepened your sense of dread. "you belong to me," sana whispered, voice filled with a twisted satisfaction. "I told you, no one else could ever love you like I do." you couldn’t remember when you’d fallen asleep, or how long she’d been there, but one thing was certain: there was no part of you sana hadn’t claimed, judging from the pain in your heart, and the bruises and hickeys shamelessly left in obvious areas.

[sebscore]

rubyyy i have an idea for your gen-z driver series! when you are free, maybe you can write about when lil miss just got into f1 and had many people doubted her just for her to nail her rookie season like the goat sir Lewis Hamilton did in his. feel free to tweak it however you want. I just thought it would be cool to see more off the racing side of gen-z driver. :))))

and i really enjoy your writings, keep them coming but also don't stress out too much about them as well :)

WELCOME TO THE STRANGE WORLD

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: sexism. swearing. based this one on the 2018 grid, cause I imagine her joining the grid that year. christian horner & helmut marko. 

author's note: this got me immediately inspired!! It's also the first time I tackle the racing aspect of the series so I hope it's a bit accurate and that it is enjoyable x

• • • • • • •

''Do you feel the pressure going into this week's race?'' The reporter asked her, a polite smile on his face. 

Y/N carefully adjusted the mic attached to her cheek. ''Uh, definitely,'' she nervously chuckled as it was her first F1 press conference, ''there have been a lot of reactions, both negative and positive, so I do feel a lot of eyes on me at the moment.'' 

To say that there had been a lot of reactions was an understatement. The announcement of the female race car driver joining the F1 grid had become the #1 topic on several social media platforms and even international news channels had broadcasted about the ''controversial'' arrival of the young woman. 

Various notable figures in the motorsport world had also voiced their opinion on the new face on the grid. There were many positive reactions, for example, Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff saying: ''It's a step in the right direction. Many young girls will see her race and get more interested in the sport, which will hopefully motivate them to start karting.'' 

Susie Wolff, former development driver for Williams, also showed her enthusiasm. ''I think Y/N is the perfect role model for all the young girls who watch F1 at home. We've been following her closely the last few years and she's proved that she can compete with the big guys, I'm very proud and I can't wait for her performances this season.'' 

Unfortunately, there had also been less positive feedback. Red Bull Motorsport advisor, Helmut Marko, had questioned whether she would be able to handle the ''physicalities'' the sport asked of a driver. ''I hope I'm wrong, but I wouldn't be surprised if she would be replaced by the second race.'' 

His Red Bull colleague, Christian Horner, had also made some sensitive comments about the young woman. He recalled his first meeting with her, stating he thought she was one of the grid girls and that it would be tough as she's ''entering a man's sport''. 

Y/N had been upset with key figures of the sport making such statements about her, but she had heard worse throughout her racing career. Men like Horner were stuck in old times. 

''Sebastian, how do you feel about a female joining F1?'' Both Y/N and Sebastian internally cringed at the rookie being referred to as a 'female', trying to not let it show on their faces. 

The German collected the right words before answering. ''I'm very happy that Y/N is sitting here next to us,'' he smiled at her, ''I think her being on the grid and competing alongside us, is going to bring a lot of positive changes that should've been happening a long time ago. I've known her for some years now, so maybe I'm biased, but I couldn't think of a better person joining the line-up.'' 

''Thank you.'' Y/N mumbled, grown shy by Sebastian's praises. He had been involved in her career since her humble karting beginnings, wanting to guide her as he knew a lot of people would try to stop her from flourishing in the sport. 

The journalist then put his focus on the other world champion sitting at the panel. ''Lewis, you share the same opinion as Sebastian?'' 

''I agree with Seb, it's nice to see that progress is being made in diversing the sport and she's here, because she deserves to be here.'' Lewis' answer showed his disagreement with the people who were convinced that the woman's arrival to F1 was nothing more than a statement to the FIA. 

Y/N wasn't ignorant and knew her claiming an F1 seat would bring a lot of publicity, not only to her, but her team as well. However, they wouldn't risk losing millions of euros, because they simply wanted to make a point that women can competitively drive as well. 

''I've seen her drive, we've all seen her drive and you can't deny that she has a huge talent.'' Lewis concluded his answer, sending a soft smile her way. 

The reporter who asked the question directed his attention back to the young woman. ''Y/N, it must be great to hear those positive words from such seasoned drivers.'' He said to her, his hands pointing towards the two World Champions. 

She shyly nodded her head, feeling the gazes of everyone in the room on her. ''Yeah, it's, uh,  very nice of them.'' 

''It's the truth.'' Sebastian chuckled. 

''That's P11 tomorrow, Y/N! Good job, we're proud of you over here.'' Her engineer announced over the radio, letting the driver know her qualifying session was over. 

She pressed her radio button. ''Thank you so much, guys! A good start!'' She enthusiastically exclaimed, delighted about her team being happy with quali. 

They had greeted her back into the garage with an applause and many headpats, congratulating her on her first ever F1 qualifier. ''Let's discuss now.'' Her coach put his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the team's briefing room. 

It hadn't lasted long. The team was overall very satisfied with how the qualifying session had gone and didn't have much feedback for the rookie. 

''Of course it would be great to score points, but finishing P11 is the realistic standing tomorrow.'' Her team principal's words had taken her by surprise, expecting them to want to score as many points as possible at the race tomorrow. 

Y/N wasn't too sure if that was the genuine opinion her team had about the next day or if they thought that she wouldn't be able to make any overtakes. Whatever it was, the dilemma clouded her mind as she walked through the paddock, ready to go back to her hotel and unwind. 

However, an arm pulled her out of her thoughts, making the rookie flinch at the sudden touch. ''What the heck,'' she hastily turned towards the person, ''Seb, don't scare me like that.'' Y/N calmed down seeing the German man grinning at her, Britta standing next to him. 

''You looked like you were overthinking.'' He had seen the frown on her face as she passed the Ferrari hospitality, immediately knowing something was on her mind. ''Starting P11 is good for your first race, the best of the rookies.'' Sebastian figured it was related to the qualifying session. 

''No, I'm happy with my starting position.'' She assured him, shaking her head. 

The Ferrari driver furrowed his eyebrows, being confused. ''Then what is it? Did someone say something to you?'' 

Y/N glanced around the paddock, making sure no one of her team or a reporter was standing near them. ''I just, uh, well- during the briefing, they basically said that they don't expect me to make any overtakes and that I just need to try to keep my position.'' She explained to the duo, both listening attentively. 

''They're already underestimating you?'' Britta commented, shocked they wouldn't encourage her to at least try to overtake as many cars as she can. 

Sebastian agreed with his friend. ''A team telling their driver to not score points is the weirdest thing I've heard in years.'' He said to Britta, a frown gracing his face. 

He turned towards the young woman. ''Don't listen to them, okay? You pass as many fucking cars as you can, alright?'' It almost looked like he was scolding her. 

The girl nodded her head, an appreciative smile on her face. ''You know I will.'' 

''I love the confidence.'' Britta laughed, patting her back. 

''Don't think about it too much, Y/N. You're gonna do great tomorrow, I'm sure of it.'' Sebastian ruffled her hair, a sincere tone in his voice. 

Y/N simply smiled at both of them, and thanked them for their support. ''I'm gonna go back to my hotel now, but I'll see you tomorrow then.'' She bid them goodbye, waving as she walked through the exit gates. 

She could see and feel the condescending stares as she waited on the grid before the start of the race, some people didn't know how to be subtle. She had her headphones on, blasting music through them so she could drown out all of the negative thoughts. 

A tap on her shoulder brought her eyes from the ground to the face of a semi-looking concerned Kimi. She paused her song and took the headphones off, ready to listen to what the older man had to say. ''Yeah?'' 

''I can hear your song.'' Kimi pointed at his own ears, visualizing his words. 

Y/N's eyes widened, her worried expression altering into one of embarrassment. ''Oh, sorry, I'll turn it down.'' She apologized, immediately grabbing her phone to change the volume. 

''No, uh, is okay,'' he told her, ''you good?'' 

She was stunned by his question, awkwardly staring at him for a few seconds before answering. ''Yes, I'm good.'' Kimi always kept it short, she figured she should do the same. 

''Don't be nervous,'' the Finnish driver continued, looking into her eyes, ''people want to see you do bad, prove them wrong.'' 

She had met the man a handful of times before, but they had never talked this much with each other. Kimi kept to himself and she wanted to be respectful of that, not wanting to accidentally cross one of his boundaries. 

He wasn't a man of many words (at least sober) so she appreciated his advice very much, knowing he wouldn't tell her this if he didn't think she could actually prove them wrong. 

''Thanks.'' 

''No worry.'' A small assuring smile was found on his face, making the grimaces of her critics seem like nothing. 

''Y/L easily passes the Renault, moving up to P10.'' The commentary of David Croft sounded as she overtook Sainz, going from P11 to P10. 

Her team's pit crew cheered in the garage, watching the spectacle on the screen. ''Keep pushing, Y/N! We're in the points.'' Her engineer told her over the radio. 

''Hehe, understood.'' She chuckled, proud of her smooth overtake. 

She managed to pass the Mclaren of Vandoorne in the same lap, falling behind the Mercedes of Bottas and the Renault of Hulkenberg who was doing his best to keep his seventh position in the race. 

The pair was too busy challenging each other that they didn't see the car of the female driver coming through, passing both of them when they left a gap. ''Y/L jumps ahead of both of them! She jumped Bottas and Hulkenberg, moving up to P7! What a stellar performance of the rookie driver!'' 

People couldn't believe their eyes as she passed the Mercedes, undoubtedly one of the fastest cars on the grid compared to her team's midfield one. 

''Bloody amazing, Y/N! The Red Bull is too far up to catch, but defend for your life now!'' P6 wasn't possible anymore as she went into the last lap, Max's car being quicker and having fresher tyres than her. 

The last lap almost went by in a haze, the young woman scared something would ruin the beautiful moment for her, but that never came. ''Y/N Y/L comes across the line to celebrate her dream debut and she becomes the first woman in over 40 years to score points in a Grand Prix!'' 

She parked her car behind Max's, her hands on her helmet as if it were her head. Y/N sat in disbelief as reality dawned on her. You scored points in your first F1 race, the sentence played on a loop in her head. 

''Oi! Little Miss scoring points on her debut!'' An Australian accent pulled her out of her thoughts, several pats on her helmet making her look up. ''You passed the Mercedes? Fucking amazing!'' He exclaimed as he saw the silver car parked behind her. 

''Daniel, can you help me get out? My body is in shock, I think.'' Y/N awkwardly chuckled, a bit embarrassed about not being able to get out of her car on her own at the moment. 

Fortunately, the Red Bull driver didn't see the big problem and helped her stand up, supporting her underarms. 

The support turned into a congratulating hug, the Australian swaying her side-to-side. ''Welcome to Formula One, baby!'' He loudly exclaimed. 

Y/N laughed at his antics, touched by his excitement for her good result. ''Thanks, Ricciardo.'' 

''Good overtake there.'' Valtteri patted her helmet with his hand, complimenting her. She bowed her head in appreciation. ''Thank you.'' 

Her and Daniel followed the Mercedes driver into the cooldown room, the latter handing her an ice-cold water bottle from the table. ''What place did you get?'' Y/N asked Daniel, turning to him. 

''P4,'' he sighed, ''but I got fastest lap, so a little redemption.'' The Red Bull driver laughed it off, at least happy he got an extra point for the championship standings. 

A pat on her back made her look back, being met with a sweaty Charles. ''Hey, man.'' She greeted him with a side-hug.

''Saw you got P7, congrats.'' The pair had been teammates the year before at Prema Racing so they have a good friendship with each other. ''Thanks, how did it go for you?'' Y/N was curious about her fellow rookie's debut race. 

He shrugged his shoulders. ''P13, but only because 5 people retired.'' Charles downplayed it, glimpsing at the ground. 

''Cheer up, Charlito! It's only the first one of the season.'' She tried comforting him, not wanting him to be down about his result. 

Charles just smiled and moved on, ready to go back to his team and discuss everything. The rest of the drivers, except the top 3, followed swiftly. Y/N received a grand welcome back in her garage, it almost seemed like she had won the World Championship. She had a brief discussion about the race and her team prepared her for the post-race interviews. 

Surprisingly, the interviews had gone well and not one discriminating question was asked. She mainly received a lot of congratulations and one female reporter even thanked her for her race performance as it would inspire many young girls watching it. Y/N had almost teared up during the specific interview, not expecting anyone to do that. 

The rookie was walking to her driver's room when a call of her name stopped her in her tracks. Lewis jogged up to her, greeting her with a big embrace. ''Good job, you did so well!'' He told her with a huge smile on his face. 

''Thank you, Lewis.'' Her head felt warm, the older man making her a little flustered. 

''And this is only the beginning, you know? You showed everyone today that you deserve to be here, truly amazing!'' He continued praising her. 

Y/N grinned at him. ''Thank you so much, that means a lot to me.'' 

''The three of us were watching it back in the cooldown room, like waiting to see in which position you came in.'' Him, Sebastian and Kimi had attentively observed the screen that replayed the race, interested in knowing how the young woman had performed. 

She was touched by Lewis' words, honored that three World Champions had looked out for her and wanted to know her result. ''Oh my god, that's- wow, that's really cool.'' Y/N awkwardly laughed, not knowing how to give a proper response all of a sudden. 

''Anyway, congrats and celebrate it well,'' he made a move to leave before visibly remembering something, ''oh, yeah, Seb asked me to tell you that he'd come by your driver's room.'' Lewis conveyed Sebastian's message. 

''Oh, great, I'll, uh, see you in two weeks then.'' She bid him goodbye and she was on her way again, hoping the German wasn't already waiting for her there. 

Fortunately for her, Sebastian wasn't there yet and she had the time to change into her casual wear so she could leave the circuit and go straight to the airport afterwards to go back home. 

Three knocks on her door stopped her scroll through social media and she called for her guest to come in, not having the energy to get up from her couch. 

She watched an energetic Sebastian walk into her driver's room, practically running to give her a hug. ''I told you that you could do it! P fucking 7!'' He exclaimed, excitedly. 

''Congrats to you for winning!'' She retorted back, not having had the chance yet to congratulate him on his GP win. 

''Thank you, honey.'' He sat down next to her on the couch. 

''I would have loved to see the faces of everyone on your team the moment you passed Carlos, it must have been priceless.'' Sebastian smirked, thinking of what she had told him the day before. ''And the double overtake? You couldn't have had a better race.'' 

''Oh my god, I couldn't believe it, Seb! Like I finished in front of a Mercedes? Wow, just wow!'' Sebastian laughed at her enthusiasm, imagining how great she must feel now. 

The winner of the day scratched his voice. ''Kimi said how nervous you looked before the race and I'm not gonna lie, I was a bit worried about you,'' he had lowered his voice, different from his loudness of before, ''but you dealt with the pressure perfectly and you didn't let it affect your race. I'm very proud of you.'' His sincerity and expression of pride almost brought tears to her eyes, the words of her idol and mentor meaning a lot to her. 

''Thank you, Seb,'' a shy smile graced her face, ''that means a lot to me, I couldn't have done it without you.'' She thanked him. 

''No, it was your hard work that got you here.'' He argued, not wanting to take any sort of credit for her accomplishments. ''And maybe a little of my money, but you know.'' Sebastian jokingly added, not able to help himself from teasing the younger one. 

Y/N rolled her eyes at the comment. ''Always so humble! Red Bull Seb made an appearance for a second there.'' 

''He's still in here, I just need to keep him in check.'' 

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[arting-block]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 | Eleventh Doctor x F! Reader

❝𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯.❞

Summary: After a stressful day, you overhear Amy arguing with the Doctor. When he realized you heard everything, he tries to set things right.

Warnings: Angst, mentioned kidnapping, misunderstanding, pinning, comfort, the Doctor sucking at feelings

Words: 3.8K

A/N: I'm finally getting through the requests sitting in my inbox. This one was one of my favorites I've done in a while :) @shuichiakainx i hope you enjoy!!

You messed up. Badly.

The Doctor had explicitly stated for you to stay by his side. No wandering about, no talking to strangers, don't do anything foolish. The city you were visiting had a different culture, one steeped in brutal violence. Any slight can be perceived as an invitation for war. 

You should've minded your own business. Maybe you wouldn't have gotten kidnapped. Even though your friends freed you hours ago, you can still feel the imprint of metal cuffs around your wrists. Your hands busy themselves with rubbing the area, bandages wrapped around your pulse where the metal snagged your skin.

You tried to defend an elderly man from getting hurt by a group of teenagers. You foolishly tried to shield the man from the onslaught of abuse, hoping to simply talk to the teenagers so that things wouldn’t escalate. Oh how wrong you were. 

You knew you messed up. You had already regretted your choices the moment rough hands gripped your arms and hauled you into a foreign ship. 

The Ashmadas were almost a whole head taller than you. Thick yellow hides that became scaly along their joints, blunt canines that were meant for crushing bones and skin, and the fluorescent eyes that glowed even in pitch black darkness. A species that evolved from war and brutality. Even the most intimidating human would look like field mice in comparison. 

What you hadn't anticipated was the cold demeanor of your Doctor. You imagined him being cross, yes, but never downright angry. The moment he and the Ponds made it to the threshold where you were held, you noticed how calloused he had been. Snarling words, tension rippling beneath the skin. Furious didn't begin to explain his behavior. He threatened to set off a bomb that will incinerate everyone in the ship and release a plague to their already dwindling community. When you finally got out of your shackles, the Doctor barely even acknowledged you, hellbent on making the Ashmadas a new endangered species. It was only when you grabbed his face, forced him to see the tears as you begged him to leave, did he finally back off. 

As the four of you retreated to the console room of the TARDIS, the Doctor makes a flimsy excuse about needing to check the ship’s engine. The day’s events have been heavy for all of you, so you knew it was more about him needing space. When you tried to talk to him, he brushed off your touch and gave you a cold reply. 

You walked back to your room not long after. Rory patched you up as best he could, using a concoction of human and alien medicine. He didn't speak much and you were grateful for the silence. The only words he slipped out were sincere apologies for not getting there sooner. There was something else he wanted to say, moments where he opened his mouth but nothing came out. You were, frankly, too tired to press further. 

Once Rory left, you tried your hardest to get some sort of sleep. Your body was spent, bruised, and tattered. No matter how many times you turned or how much your body ached, your mind couldn’t stop racing. You’ve probably spent a good hour or so trying to get comfortable, but to no avail. 

You were still on edge, thinking about the cramped cell you were placed in. How alone you felt. You’ve been in precarious situations before, but this was different. Three whole days of captivity in total isolation. No light peeking through so you had nothing to distract you. Just your own memories passing through your mind. It made you realize just how much your friends mean to you. How much their presence comforted you, how relieved you were when Amy’s voice cut through your dark Hell. You remember sinking into the Doctor’s embrace, crying into his jacket and muttering how sorry you were. 

There was so much you wanted to tell him. Those three days spent curled into a ball were filled with memories of him. His laugh echoing in your ear while carrying you throughout the universe. Petty arguments filled with teasing and embarrassed faces. The way he finds himself beside you, always lingering like a string was attached between the two of you.

The most treasured memory of all was one where it was just the two of you. Talking about nothing and everything. Favorite color, worst kitchen appliance, obscure historical figures. You talked for hours, laying your whole life for him to dissect. When it was his turn to speak, you took the opportunity to study him. Cataloging the slope of his nose, the lines around his mouth, and his mannerisms. The way he points going in tandem with the pitch of his voice, how his whole body moves when he talks. 

You wanted to scream in his face the moment you saw him. Tell him the three words you repeat in your head when he’s around. Instead, all that came out was unintelligible sobs into scratchy fabric. 

Tell him, tell him everything. 

The bed creaked when you moved to sit up. Your heart ached at seeing the Doctor’s fury and how silent he was when you came back. You caused him worry, not just to him, but to the Ponds as well. The last thing you want is to end the day on a sour note. He’s your friend after all, even if you wanted something more. 

It didn’t take long to reach the console room. You took your time with each step, wanting to get your thoughts in order. You pick up voices coming ahead of you, muffled words that you cannot make heads or tails of. As you approach the end of the hallway, you hear the muffled words turn into the familiar voice of Amy in a rather accusatory tone. You peek around the corner, observing the view of your two friends from above. 

Amy stands a few feet away from the Doctor, who is hunched over the console. Amy’s face is a mix of concern and disappointment, as if she’s scolding a child. You notice the dirt smeared shirt she still wears, meaning she hasn’t gotten back to her room just yet. Was she here the whole time?

Crossing her arms, Amy shook her head at the tired man in front of her. “You’re never going to admit it are you?”

“What are you talking about? There’s nothing to admit.” The Doctor’s answer is just as cold and detached as it was hours before. “If you’re just going to go back and forth with me all day then I suggest you go spend your time with your husband. I told you before I’m not in the mood for your scolding.”

Amy’s laugh is devoid of any humor. She takes a step towards the Doctor. You see the pent up anger in her; a fuse ready to blow. “You think you’re so good at hiding it. You think we’re too stupid to notice—that I’m too stupid to not bring it up?”

“What exactly are you talking about?” 

You shouldn’t eavesdrop like this. If the Doctor found out that you were listening in on a private conversation, he would no doubt be more angry than before. 

Amy ignored the question, wanting to force the Doctor into a corner to say what she wanted to hear. “I’m honestly impressed how long you’ve lasted. Were you going to bury your emotions and hope they would simply disappear? You think pushing her away is going to make it hurt any less? I see the way you look at her.”

The Doctor snaps back, angry and seething. “Spit it out already Amelia!”

“(Y/N)!” came her equally furious reply, one that echoed sharply in the large room. 

Your heart skidded to a stop in your chest. Why was she goading him like this? You didn’t recall telling Amy about your feelings for the Doctor. Was it that obvious? If she noticed, does that mean…?

The Doctor was quick to invade Amy’s space. He towered above her, his teeth bared with provoked anger. “And what exactly do you want me to admit? That she's careless and doesn’t listen to a word I say? How do I have to clean up her mess after she did the one thing I told her not to?”

Hearing the pained emotion in his voice made every word sting harder. He was not wrong to say it, but it hurt nonetheless. You wished that he would’ve said it to your face rather than having to overhear it in the shadows.

He didn’t stop there. It seemed Amy had opened a dam of pent up thoughts and emotions. Words kept spilling from his lips, each one hurting more than the last. “You know what I see when I look at her? A fragile human being. Someone who is only going to occupy a fraction of my existence.”

“You love her,” Amy spits back, wholly convicted. Tears prick her eyes as she barrels on. “Admit you stupid old man. You. Love. Her.”

Her words seemed to shock the Doctor out of his wrath. He immediately steps back, as if her presence burns. 

The two of them look at one another, chests heaving. Amy doesn’t back down, keeping her chin held high, meeting his burning gaze. The Doctor’s face is unreadable, partially due to the fact that you don’t have a good vantage point. The anger doesn’t leave him, but you could tell that he’s considering her words. 

You hold your breath, not wanting to miss his response. 

It comes out soft, barely within normal talking level, but in the dead silence of the console room you hear it as clear as day: “How can I love her? I won’t—I can’t let that happen.”

You felt your heart drop out of your chest. All of the hurt spirling inside your chest, clawing a cavernous hole to fill with despair. 

He doesn’t love you. 

You were paralyzed, replaying that awful sentence over and over again. You bring a hand to cover your mouth, feeling the droplets of tears already flowing. 

He doesn’t love you and he’s making sure it doesn’t happen. 

Are you that awful to be around? That the mere thought of being romantic with you makes him angry? 

Your hand presses at the space where your heart lies. Your shirt twists, your body curling deeper into the shadows of the room. You’ve experienced heartbreak before, back on Earth throughout the years. Never like this. It was more than a simple rejection, but a swift blow to your entire worldview. 

You thought, foolishly, that maybe there was something between you two. He wouldn’t have let you stay as long as you had if he didn’t like you. All those late night conversations…the small brushes of skin when no one is looking…all of the glances you caught more than once…

They were nothing. 

Stumbling back into the hallway, you ran as fast as you could to your room. The TARDIS bestowed mercy on you, materializing your room just a few feet away. You didn’t think twice to fly open the door and slam it shut behind you. You knew the sound would travel to the console room and alert Amy and the Doctor, but you didn’t care. 

The force of your cries shook your body, your sobs filling your room despite your hands trying to muffle them. Over and over you replay the entire conversation. You wished the TARDIS would swallow you whole and spit you far, far away from the Time Lord. 

You hear the sound of thundering steps approach your room before the sound of frantic knocking against your door. 

Before the person could utter a single word, you let out a strangled demand: “Go away!”

“(Y/N), I can—” the Doctor cut himself short. He let out a frustrated huff before starting again. “Please, it’s not what you think.”

Those words snapped you out of your whirlwind of sadness. Anger bubbled in its place. 

“Not what I think?!” You didn’t think twice before forcefully opening the door. The Doctor jumps from his spot in front of your room, a show of surprise on his face. “I heard everything.”

The Doctor places his hand up in surrender. The cold, neutral face he had on before is completely wiped away, leaving a startlingly emotional one instead. “Please, if you give me a moment—”

“What more could you say to me?” It comes out shaky, with tears still dripping down your face in rivers. You no doubt look like a complete wreck, but you’re too upset to care. You’re tired of bottling your emotions up. You want him to know how much this meant to you, how much his words physically hurt you. “I know you’re already upset at me that I didn’t listen to you, I know that. You don’t get to stand there and act like this is a whole misunderstanding. I mean come on—fragile human?”

“I know and I’m—”

“I was so relieved to see you again. Three days, Doctor. Three whole days, spent in that cell waiting for you. I felt so guilty for not listening and I hoped that we could reconcile, but no. I was fine with giving you space, but then I had to overhear you talk about me like I’m some burden.” You force yourself to take a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. “Is that how you really feel about me?”

The Doctor doesn’t respond, which makes you even more angry. 

“Did you know?” you spit out. It took everything in you to not shut the door in his face and never come outside again. But you needed to know. “Did you know?”

The silence that came thereafter was deafening. The Doctor let his hands drop to his sides. You didn’t dare blink, watching his every move, waiting for a response. His head dips to the side, his lower lip caught in his teeth as he stares at a spot on the floor. You knew he knew what you were referring to. 

When he lifts his head, you were surprised to see such bare remorse. Still, it does nothing to quell you; if anything you’re happy he’s feeling the guilt. 

“Yes…I knew for a while,” he mumbled, forcing the words to come out. “Rory’s mum told me, said that you liked me. I told her that of course you liked me, I’m the Doctor. But she gave me a serious look and told me you fancied me.” His lips twisted up at the memory, but seeing your withering glare he quickly dropped it. 

You gripped the doorframe, recalling the visit clearly. The Ponds had called you, wanting to go on another adventure after nearly three months of normalcy on Earth. In their absence, it was just you and the Doctor against the universe. Three months of staring longingly at the madman in a box, wanting to spill your guts but feeling too scared to. When the Ponds came back, you remembered Rory’s mum taking the Doctor to the side, whispering in his ear. You had asked what she said, but the Doctor gave a flustered reply. His ears were pink, and his words were hastily spat out. 

“That was over a year ago. You knew all that time?” You wanted to scream every curse you knew, both English and alien. It took everything in you to not tear him a new one right then and there. “And I had to hear you say it to Amy of all people? Someone who also fancied you, and if I recalled kissed you?”

It was unfair to throw that back in his face knowing that they moved on from that incident. Amy had since made it explicitly clear that she loved him platonically and was wholly committed to Rory. 

The Doctor took a tentative step towards you, unsure if you were going to disappear back into your room. He took another, and another. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, opting to stare at his scuffed shoes. 

You could feel him get closer. It unnerved how much you still wanted to be near him, despite everything. 

The Doctor’s hands found the curve of your cheek, gently tilting your face up to meet his gaze. Warm palms cupped the sides of your face and his thumbs wiping away the tears that still fell. The sheer intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, burning into you. You watch as his green irises start getting glassy; the planes of his cheeks become a flushed pink. He stood there for a few moments, simply holding your face, looking at you as if it’s the last time he ever will. 

You let yourself bask in his touch. He took another step towards you, still holding your face. You closed your eyes as you felt the cool touch of his forehead against yours. 

“Doctor—”

“You have every right to be upset.” He gave a chuckle, but you heard the pain in his voice. “You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you. I looked forward to the nights where you pester me with odd questions. Every morning I pray that you stay another day with me, hoping that you don’t wish to go back to Earth.”

The confession scares him, you feel it in the way he tries to keep his voice even. When he pulls his forehead from yours, he still hovers over your face, staring with the heat of all the feelings he tried so desperately to hide. 

His eyes move over every inch of your face before settling back to your swollen eyes. You watch his eyes soften, as if he’s seeing the most beautiful star nestled in the depths of your pupils. So focused on the heat of his hands and the movement of his eyes, that you almost miss the twin stream of tears running down his own face. 

The Doctor took one shuddering breath, letting his thoughts flow out. “I couldn’t let myself acknowledge my feelings—I couldn’t. Everyone I ever loved…everyone I got close to is gone because of me. I couldn’t let that happen, especially not to you. But then you had to get yourself kidnapped.” His voice trailed off, cracking at the memory. 

You dared not to move, fearful that he would snap out of the spell he found himself in. You can’t recall a time where he was this open to you, about his feelings no less. All the pent up emotion you felt before settled to a dull throb in your heart. 

“I would’ve brought the entire fleet down on its knees, have them beg for mercy.” You felt the rage in his voice, knowing full well that he meant every word. “When I couldn’t find you, I was terrified. You were gone before…”

His hands trembled, his breath became more ragged. You’ve never seen true terror on his face. 

You whisper, just barely audible to his ears. “Before what Doctor?”

He shakes his head, almost wishing he didn’t open his mouth. When you silently pressed him to answer, he couldn't help but cave. 

“I lied back there, with Amy,” the Doctor rushed, trying to get all his disorganized thoughts out. “I lied—I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“What? Didn’t mean wha—”

“It already happened,” he cried, his body caving towards you. “I told myself I couldn’t let myself love you. I…I lied.”

You felt your heart stop for the second time today. Your mouth slightly agape, unsure of how to respond. The Doctor takes a half step, effectively caging your body against his. You own shaking hands rested atop of his, hoping to calm him. 

“Every moment I spent with you, I spent yearning,” he says with such emphasis that leaves no room for doubt. You cry harder at the admission. “I took my frustration on you, made you think that I could never love you. I do—Stars, I do. You have no idea how much I do.”

You couldn’t hold back the loud sob that overtakes your whole body. A cry that leaves the Doctor’s two hearts aching knowing that he caused your pain. He continues to rub his thumbs over your cheeks, not to wipe away the tears, but to soothe you. 

“Say it,” you plead, words scraping against your throat. “Say it and I’m yours. I’ll be yours forever.”

Your words trigger something in him, that same fear that made him distant towards you. He doesn’t move from his spot, paralyzed by the decision. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” came his equally desperate reply. “I can’t lose you too.”

“We’ll find a way. You always do.”

The Doctor sags against you, resting his forehead against yours once more. Cries of his own shake him, his tears joining yours on the TARDIS floor. You take it upon yourself to mirror his actions; your hands gently holding his face. His once bright, crystal green eyes were now blurred with tears, encased by swollen, flushed eyelids. 

“I love you.”

A barely audible whisper, one meant for you. Said with such raw intensity that it echoes in your ear, seared in your mind forever. 

The Doctor clears his throat, furrowing his brows in concentration. “I love you. Stars above, I love you.” He speaks louder, not wanting you to miss a word. “I’ve loved you for years and I was too much of a coward to tell you. I’ll make it up to you, show you how much I’ve wanted you, if you let me.”

A smile stretched across your face. Pure euphoria filled your body, buzzing with a high that made you lightheaded. You feeled the charged energy between you two. The Doctor stills, anxiously awaiting for your response. 

“I’m yours,” you say in the shared space between you. A declaration, waiting for the final seal. “I love you, Doctor.”

The Doctor slants against you, finally removing the last inch of space between you. His kiss falls over you like the whispered confession he had given you. His lips mold against yours, slow and lingering. One kiss, then another. You grasp onto him, your hand threading into his hair, another along his jacket. His hands no longer tremble. You feel his palms leave your face and travel down to the curve of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. 

When you pull away to breath, he wastes no time burying his face against your neck, peppering the heated skin with kiss after kiss. He finds the spot where your pulse meets your jaw, sucking on the skin harshly, making you shudder. The Doctor overwhelms your senses; his touch, his scent, the taste of his mouth—

The Doctor gives one final kiss against your lips, before releasing you. He watches you catch your breath, seeing your relieved smile stretching across your face. He feels his face mirroring that same delirious smile. 

I’m yours, his two hearts sing. I’m yours forever.

[yujiqi]

hiii could you write a lil something fluffy about reader and hamzah living together and what starts as you stealing his clothes turns into you guys sharing basically everything (like he steals your satin pillowcase, you use his glasses, he tries out your skincare, etc.)??

(could be an established relationship or secretly-in-love roommates <3)

the perfect pair

bf!hamzah x f!reader

synopsis: you and hamzah have been living together for so long you even start to use each others stuff!

genre/s: fluff

warnings: none!

wc: 890

a/n: coming around to requests! i literally used all your examples because i genuinely couldn't think of things LOL this was lowkey short and idk if i fulfilled what u wanted but this ones so cute i love it thank u anon :D

you and hamzah moved in together about 6 months ago and you guys have gotten much more comfortable with each other since then. for the first month or two, you guys would always ask for permission before borrowing or wearing each others things, but you really can't say the same now.

"babe have you seen my camo hat?" you hear your boyfriends voice call from your shared closet.

"yes!" you say smiling as he walks out and towards you on the bed, staring at his camo hat sitting on your small head.

"look at you," he pats your head, "always taking my hats"

"it matches my pants, see" you laugh, jumping up to give him a hug. he reciprocates and presses a kiss to your forehead.

it's not even just clothes and accessories, sometimes it's the oddest things that you typically wouldn't share. you were finishing up your night routine and as you get in bed, you notice somethings missing. you turn over to hamzah laying on his side scrolling on his phone, his head laying on the pillow with your satin pillow case.

"hamzah" you rest your chin on his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the stupid tiktok he was watching.

"hm" he hums, engrossed.

"why do you have my pillow case?" he finally looks away from his phone to look at you, flashing a cheeky cmile.

"it makes my skin smoother! and look at my curls" you begin playing with his silky dark brown locks.

"they look so good baby, want me to buy you one?"

"no no then it won't smell like you" you only let out a chuckle, kissing his cheek.

"you're so cute"

whenever you study for exams, you have a hard time reading the font and to your surprise, hamzahs glasses have the perfect amount of prescription, so you wear them!

"ugh this is so stupid" you sigh, frustrated at the question you've been on for 30 minutes. you hear the front door opening and closing, meaning hamzah's home.

"hey girl, whatcha doin hm?" he comes behind your chair, kissing the top of your head.

"i'm studying for that business exam i told you 'bout"

"oh man, i wish i could help but i really don't know what i'm looking at right now" he begins massaging your shoulders, hoping to relieve some of your stress. "that feel good, angel?"

"so good," you sigh. "thank you baby but 'm gonna fall asleep, i gotta finish this"

"ok i'll leave you to it, i'm proud of you ma" he leans down to kiss your cheek but he pauses. "are you wearing my glasses?"

you smile up at him, kissing his plump lips. "yeah, needed them to see this tiny ass font"

"you look so studious, you're serving office siren i think is what it's called? but you look so sexy i'm actually having heart palpitations" he grasps his chest, heaving jokingly.

"i love you how you say things" you laugh, pressing another kiss to his lips.

hamzah occasionally gets little breakouts on his face, and to make matters worse, he doesn't even have a skincare routine. but you do. so when this happens, he just uses your skincare!

"how the hell does she use this?" hamzah questions as he fumbles with one of your serums.

"hamzah, you okay?" you enter the bathroom, your hamzah-senses tingling. "boy what are you doing?"

"my skin was doing bad and i was feeling a lil insecure" he sulks.

"should've told me love," you sit on the counter. "c'mere, lemme do this for you" he moves to stand between your legs and you take the serum from his large hands. "what have you done so far?"

"i put this thing on" he points at your toner, before placing his hands on your thighs.

"ok good, you were on the right track!" you open the serum and fill the applicator. "you press this at the top to get the serum in the dropper"

"ohhh i thought it was the squeezy ones"

"no, but i'm shocked you know that!" you smile approvingly at him, applying some serum on his cheeks and then his forehead and chin. you begin patting it into his skin with your fingers.

"i like when you touch my face, feels good" he looks at you with half lidded eyes.

"yeah?"

"mhm, can you do this more often?"

"of course, anything for you sweetheart" you kiss his nose, "now i'm just gonna use a moisturizer then we'll do sunscreen, okay?" he nods his head, inching his body closer to you. now his arms are wrapped loosely around your lower waist.

"hamzah you're too close! how am i gonna do this?" you giggle at his clingyness, applying the cream to his face that's just inches away from yours.

"see you're doing just fine" he gives you toothly a smile as you reach the last step.

"anddd we're done!" you fix a stray curl on his head before wrapping your arms around his neck so he can help you down.

"is the glow giving?" he says as he sucks his cheeks in.

"yes but don't do that"

"oh ok so you don't love me"

"boiii get the hell out of here" you playfully push his shoulder and chase him out of the bathroom.

it really is sharing is caring with you and hamzah.

[cosmicpearlz]

end up here

summary: how does one fix a broken patch in a marriage? fake smiles in public and secret animosity behind closed doors doesn't help anyone.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

waking up in the morning, you turned your head. finding the empty spot that would've been where your husband laid. you turned back towards the wall and sighed to yourself. the argument that should've only lasted one night with apologizes following later, was going on two weeks now. you stretch your arms and legs out before removing the duvet from your body. stepping into your slippers, you head downstairs to the kitchen.

jude stands shirtless, pajama pants hanging just below his waistline. making two cups of coffee. he heard your footsteps but refused to look at you. a painful reminder of what your shared mornings used to be.

"good morning," you mumbled. almost like a quiet whisper that travels through the cold feeling kitchen.

"good morning. i made you a cup of coffee," jude finally turns and meets your eye for a brief second. looking back down, he stretches the cup to you.

"thank you. aren't we meeting with your family today? and then you have camp for england coming up, right?"

"yup," is all jude said before walking away with his own coffee cup. you couldn't believe this is what your marriage has come to. one-word answers and cold shoulders. to think you guys were happy before the argument. an argument that you both couldn't even remember how it originally started.

-

you and jude walked hand and hand to the front door. not wanting his family to see this rough patch that you guys were going through. you wanted to save the warmth that his hand gave you and put it in a box. missing the affection that was always shared. jude secretly felt the same, he just missed his wife but the pride he carried was too high at the moment. not wanting to be the first to apologize. even though he uttered hurtful words like you had.

"my babies!" denise smiled brightly and pulls you both into a hug. "how was the flight?"

"long. so stupidly long and i'm still jetlagged," you dramatically pouted your lips.

"well come in and relax for a bit darling, lunch is almost ready." jude loved the way you interacted with his family. it made his heart grow twice in size, seeing how soft you became. continually bringing out the side of you he loved seeing every day.

"you alright mate?" jobe asked his brother. following his gaze where they see you talking to their mum and dad.

"just fine," jude lied to the younger boy, pulling him into a hug and pressing a kiss to his head.

jude and jobe head to the living room, sitting down and watching tv. mark soon joins them, leaving you and denise in the kitchen. you sit on the dining room chair and lean your elbows on the table.

"how are you really feeling?"

"i'm okay, works been busy."

"y/n, i mean how are you and jude doing?" she turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow. you groaned and put your head down into your arms.

"is it that obvious?"

"a little. but it's only because i know you guys. always very affectionate and now it's limited to just hand holding." you almost hate how much his mom knew your relationship so well. "talk to me my love." denise puts the pot to a simmer and takes a seat across from you.

"we got into an argument two weeks ago. i don't even remember what the argument was about at this point! we've said some pretty hurtful things and now it's just not the same."

"marriage isn't going to be perfect," she reaches over to grasp your hand. "you guys are probably just stressed and you haven't even got to properly enjoy your new lives as a married couple. this rough patch isn't going to last but it will if you can't communicate with each other."

"but how do i talk to him when he said that we shouldn't have got married?" tears began to pool at your eyes, remembering how he said those hurtful words.

"honey, in no way does he actually believe that. he loves you so much and adores the ground you walk on. don't take this as me excusing what he said, because it was very insensitive and hurtful. what did you say?"

"i told him that maybe we shouldn't have gotten married. then i said that my life would be so much easier if i just never met him," you retold her exactly what you said. once the words come out of your mouth, it left a bitter taste. denise sighs and pats your hand that rested in her hand.

"you both were in the wrong. it should never have to come to this. you guys need to talk right now. end this and i promise you that everything will be okay. just talk to one another. you both love each other, right?"

"yes. i don't know what i'd do without him in my life truthfully."

"then communicate that."

not knowing that jude was having the same conversation with his dad and brother. you tried to compose yourself by wiping the stray tears that fell from your eyes. you missed your husband, and you just wanted to feel his touch once more. jude walked into the kitchen, sending a small smile to his mum.

"can i talk to you love?" jude whispered softly. you nodded and placed your hand in his outstretched one.

-

entering his childhood bedroom, you both sat on the bed. you've been in here many times over the years that you guys dated. it was silent for a while, choosing to look at the walls of the room instead of speaking. it never used to be awkward with jude. everything always flowed naturally, it's what you loved about him.

"i'm sorry-"

"i'm so sorry-"

you both share a light chuckle. not expecting to speak at the same time. even though, it was something that happened often.

"i'm sorry y/n. i didn't mean what i said. marrying you has been the best decision i ever made. getting to wake up and see you next to me or coming home from a hard day and falling into your embrace. truthfully, i fall more in love with you every day. these past two weeks have been completely shitty in comparison to what our normal routine is."

"i feel the same jude. god, i wish i could take back what i said. i don't know what i would do without you. you keep me grounded and sane. you're the best thing that's happened to me. i'm sorry that my pride got in the way of loving you. nothing should ever come in the way of us being in love. it's hard going to sleep without speaking or cuddling."

"my pride got in the way too. we've both hurt each other and i don't want to continue down this path. i love you too much to simply give up now. i miss my beautiful wife."

"and i miss my beautiful husband." jude laughs softly, as you wipe more stray tears. he wasn't laughing at you crying but laughing at the fact that, even with tears and a horsed voice, he found you to be the most precious thing in the world.

"c'mere," jude says, opening his arms as an invitation. you didn't think twice before crawling into his arms. sitting in his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms wrap around your waist, and you began to cry into his neck. rocking you back and forth, it sends tears of his own to fall onto his cheeks.

"i'm so sorry baby. i don't ever want it to get to this point again," he whispered into your ear.

"me neither," you hiccupped out. jude pulls away from the hug, just to see your face. he takes his free hands and wipes your tear-stained cheeks. once he's finished, he keeps one hand on your cheek and moves the other to rest on your waist. you leaned into his touch, missing the way it felt against your skin.

"still as beautiful as ever."

"even with red eyes and a snotty nose?"

"especially with red eyes and a snotty nose, are you kidding me? you're the prettiest girl."

"you're just saying that because you're my husband," you chuckled to yourself.

"i say it because it's true and i mean it. being your husband is just a plus."

"i love that you're my husband. i also love that we can go back to normal, goodness gracious i missed you so much."

"i love you so much and will continue to do it for the rest of our lives," jude kisses the tip of your nose and then places a kiss to your forehead. pulling you back into a tight hug.

[kleewie]

i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)

summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)

→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)

→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)

→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!

credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!

beware, lengthy post ahead! more under the cut!

the debut.

“forbidden?” you repeat.

“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”

you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.

you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.

besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.

remembering it now, you want to laugh.

i told you so, your thoughts chastise.

god, you should've listened.

childe, the actor

“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.

your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.

you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.

childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.

but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.

for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.

the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.

yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.

“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”

you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.

as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.

eight months, you've been a couple.

but, there are some things you're afraid to say.

each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.

yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.

you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!

it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.

so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.

“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.

two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.

“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”

you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”

“then what is the problem?”

childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.

he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.

“me?” childe whispers.

he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.

“why?” he pleads.

“you won't understand.”

“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”

you hesitate. you tell him and then what?

you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.

your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.

so, you shake your head firmly.

“tell me, please.” he whispers.

you cross your arms, and look away.

“are you sick?”

you shake your head.

“somebody hurting you on set?”

again, you shake your head.

childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”

“no!”

“then what is the damn problem?”

“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.

childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.

is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.

“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.

you keep your mouth firmly shut.

“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”

childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”

with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.

leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.

more under the cut!

despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.

he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.

surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.

stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.

he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.

however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.

the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.

a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.

as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.

the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.

“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”

the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”

“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”

“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.

you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”

“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”

you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”

“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.

irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”

childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”

you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”

“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.

“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”

he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”

your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”

“publicity, baby.”

you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”

“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”

“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”

he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.

“you're terrible.”

“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”

a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”

childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”

“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”

childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.

“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”

bonus: five years later

your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.

‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.

‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.

‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.

you even receive a message from childe himself.

‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’

attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.

you click the link.

the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.

a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.

the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.

“um. hello, childe!”

the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.

the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”

childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”

the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.

but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”

quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.

to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”

the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.

ayato, company director

“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”

friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.

dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?

god, you need a drink.

the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.

who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.

but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.

you swallow the thought down.

as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.

not now, his expression conveys.

you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.

so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.

it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.

you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.

suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.

“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”

you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”

ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”

you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.

a friend, he says to his business partners.

a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.

a companion, he whispers to his family.

you're sick and tired of it. all of it.

raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.

ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”

soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.

you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”

“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.

you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”

before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.

“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”

he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.

you swallow the bitter thought.

“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.

ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.

ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”

“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”

her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.

“they're just close friends, you know.”

you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”

ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”

sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”

“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”

“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”

“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”

you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.

you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.

you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.

however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.

and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?

you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.

even from you.

and the thought sours your mood.

excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.

you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.

“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.

you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.

maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.

“what did you discuss with kokomi?”

“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”

“answer the question.”

he smiles, “business as always.”

you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”

ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.

you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.

“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.

you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”

“don't toy with me, darling.”

as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?

last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”

yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.

if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.

but he didn't.

so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.

your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.

if only he didn't ask.

“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”

ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”

you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”

“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”

your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”

anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”

ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”

he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.

ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.

although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.

but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.

he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.

he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.

instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.

“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”

ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”

“yes.”

“they'll catch a cold.”

“they will.”

he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”

“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”

ayato stays silent.

“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”

he sighs.

“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”

after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.

“can we talk?” he begins.

you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”

“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.

“i know.”

“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”

“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”

he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.

you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”

“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”

“i'm so sorry.”

“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”

relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.

the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.

“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”

“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”

he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”

a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”

“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”

“no.” you scold.

“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”

you laugh, “prove it.”

your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.

“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”

bonus: ten minutes before the clash

“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.

ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”

“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”

“they do.”

“have you told them?”

“...it may have slipped past my mind.”

kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”

ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”

“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”

he chuckles.

“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”

“they asked me to when we started dating.”

she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”

“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”

“sadistic.”

“kokomi?”

she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”

“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”

author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).

so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.

plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Miguel O'Hara wanting to be around you

Request: Yes or No

I have a cold and its beating my ass but Midnight Beach should resume on mon or tues

~~~

He shouldn't be doing this. He should've stopped months ago. He was supposed to go in to this new dimension, catch the anomaly, and return to the headquarters. And he'd successfully caught the anomaly and sent them back. But he'd stayed behind in a world that wasn't his cause for a moment, just for a brief moment... He wanted to stop and take a breath. That small break brought him to a rooftop of an old apartment building.

It brought him to you.

The day had been cloudy and cool with a breeze drifting by occasionally. You'd been sitting on the rooftop of your apartment building with a small easel in hand and a paint-coated brush in the other. Your favorite hobby after a long, stressful work day. You hadn't noticed the figure perched up on the ledge meters away until you went to grab another color and spotted him. He looked like Spiderman, but didn't at the same time. The colors weren't right. His structure was too tall and muscular for the lanky man who spent his time saving the city. But something told you that is was alright, he meant no danger. So you returned to painting and he watched.

After that, it became a habit. Miguel knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn't have been spending time with a civilian, much less one from another dimension. He just couldn't help it. You were so... calming. You hadn't looked at him with fear or that awestruck fan glint. You had regarded him as if he were a neighbor. And for a man used to being feared or glared at, it felt good to be seen again.

He often transported to your world, to your rooftop. You'd be there just about every day. You always acknowledged his presence with a nod but kept to yourself. No questions, no prodding, no begs for selfies or autographs. A nod and sometimes a smile. He never returned the gestures, only watched from a distance. Never too close but never too far.

It took him four months to grow comfortable enough to get closer. Each week, he'd perch on the ledge just the slightest bit closer, craning his neck to catch a sight of the easel and holding your gaze when you looked at him. Until he was close enough to watch your face as you painted.

Which led him to today, where once again, there he was. Sitting on that damned ledge and watching you paint. He'd seen the paintings come and ago. They were often of the city or the sky. Sometimes you'd just splatter paint on the canvas and make it up as you went. He liked watching the process. He liked watching you relax over time. The lines between your brows would soften, your shoulders would lower, you'd go between firmly holding the brush and letting it hang loosely between your fingers.

"I have something for you." His eyes snap up from the half-finished canvas. He stays silent and still, his body going rigid. He liked your voice- Ay, Dios, he liked your voice. His finger twitches and he thinks about leaving the rooftop and returning to Nueva York. Back to his office where he doesn't have to worry about seeing you, where he would forget about you. But he stays. You lean down and your fingers shuffle through the array of canvases you'd brought up with you today.

You hum quietly and pull a canvas out from the row, tilting it over so he can see. It's him. A painting of him. "I've never really drawn a superhero before," You speak and chuckle. "But I tried."

"It's..." His voice is uncharacteristically soft and he reaches out with careful hands, gently taking the sides of the canvas and staring at him. It's like staring into a mirror but this time, he doesn't loathe what he sees.

"Glad you like it, Spiderman."

[th3secr3th1story]

how gojo tries to get your attention after a fight

gojo messed up majorly. last night, he came home tired and stressed after a mission with a special grade curse. yes, it was successful (obviously. it's gojo.), but it still drained him.

he was so out of it and wasn't feeling like himself, but you, as a wonderful partner, tried to take care of him. gojo got frustrated, and sure, he felt guilty for it, but he was done.

and he took it all out on you. you would've gladly left him alone if he'd just asked you, but gojo was never one for good communication.

you eventually got the hint and realized it was best for him to be alone, but the words from last night still stung and the hurtful glares unforgotten. you decided you would just ignore him until he apologized. until he realized that you can't put up with this anymore.

so, the problem was now with gojo. he woke up that morning to an empty bed, curious, because you usually beg him to stay in longer.

and then, of course, it hit him. he can't remember what he was so upset about. yes, he was tired, but you were just there to help him after a long day. and he ruined it all.

sliding out of bed, he sidles up to you in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, trying to assess how much damage control was needed.

"last night was crazy, huh?"

"..."

"i absolutely destroyed that curse though, baby. nothing left."

"..."

okay...so maybe this was worse than he expected. but it would be okay because he would figure out a way to fix it all. he's gojo satoru; if he can kill special grade curses he can definitely get your forgiveness!

plan A--commence!

naturally, instead of apologizing like a normal person, gojo sneaks around the house tightening every jar he can find. your leave in conditioner, the pickles, jam...anything with a screw-on lid that he laid his eyes on.

all that was left was to wait for you to reach for one of the jars, realize it was screwed on too tight, and ask him for help.

an hour later, seated in the living room, he watches you enter the kitchen, looking for your favorite quick snack--pickles!!

he gets ready to see your angry but desperate face. should you forgive gojo and enjoy your snack, or save your pride but remain hungry? you'd debate with yourself for a bit, but eventually you'd begrudgingly walk over to him. "just open it," you'd say. he'd unscrew the jar, you'd smile at each other. he'd pull you into his ar-

oh. you opened it by yourself. the sound of a jar popping open snapped him out of his imagination, watching you pull out a few pickles and happily bite into them.

there may have been one small flaw with gojo's masterplan--he forgot that you're stronger than him.

no sweat! it's all good! he was already thinking up something new. it was time for plan B!

galloping over to your air conditioning, he cranks it all the way up (as much as your paychecks would allow, at least). he had seen this in one of those stupid romance movies he'd begged you to watch with him a couple months ago. it was only a matter of time before you ran over to him, shivering, begging for his warmth. he was sure of it.

20 or so minutes later, still nothing from you...odd! he walks around the house, curious to see what you're doing at a temperature like this. he finds you in one of his sweaters, curled up in your bed. his stomach sinks even more. he just wants to climb in with you, pull you into him, and smother you in his kisses.

"go away, satoru," you mumble. he sighs, sulking away back to the living room. at least you're talking to him?

he doesn't know how much time has passed but later when he gets off the couch his head hurts and he just wants to be near you. he'll do anything at this point. this is how he reaches plan C: apologize. what a novel idea!

he walks back into the room, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"hey."

"..." great.

"y/n, i know i messed up. i shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you and i should've just asked for space. i know you were just trying to help. i'm so sorry, baby. please forgive me, i miss you and i can't stand you ignoring me."

for the first time in what has got to be a thousand hours to gojo, you finally turn your head and look him in the eyes. you swear you can see sparkles in them. oh, the things he does to you.

"i just want you to tell me what you need, 'toru. i'm not a mind reader, i can't just know what you want from me. i need you to know that i would do anything for you and i hate when you put up these walls."

"i know, baby. i'm so sorry."

you sigh, smiling at him a little. of course you forgive him. you always would, no matter what.

"i forgive you. wanna get in here with me?" you ask, lifting up the covers a little. why was it chilly?

"absolutely."

plan C: success!

who knew that apologizing could actually fix things? certainly not gojo!

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are doing well. I was wondering if you are still open for requests. If so, may I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein his precious captive darling is sick and refuses to be nursed by him

I am 4ever open for requests. I am grateful for the meal. It shall be digested properly.

Let Me Take Care of You.

note: You guys ever been so sick you started crying???

You both knew that this shouldn't go on for any longer. You knew you should've given in a long, long time ago. You've never felt so....terrible from a sickness before. You've never felt this helpless. Weak. But you showing weakness wasn't what destroyed you. You could care less if you looked helpless because the pain and struggle was just that great. You couldn't eat. You could only down liquids and, fuck, you really couldn't speak either. Your lower back hurt. Your arms hurt. Your sides hurt. Your neck hurt. You couldn't rest properly because of the pain. And on top of that, you were extremely fatigued, and dizzy.

During the daytime, you would overheat and even the thinnest shirts with wide-open windows could cool you. But at night, the slightest crack in the window with the millions of blankets you had on top of you couldn't warm you up. It was hell on Earth. And Kento couldn't bare to sit back and watch you struggle any longer. You were his sweetheart. His baby. His everything. And you wouldn't let him help you. It was driving him insane. In the morning, he would watch you move at a snails pace into the kitchen to refill your glass with water. You would avoid eye contact. If he told you good morning, you would reply. But your voice trembled when you spoke, as if it was a task to even make noise. It made him put his newspapers down in extreme concern. But still, you wouldn't let him help you. Take care of you.

It was when he came back for work that he decided he had enough. He thought about it the entire time he was on the clock. He took you in for a reason. He vowed to himself that he would never neglect you and would always take care of you. Yes, he wanted you to be comfortable around him, and yes, he allowed you to set some barriers between the two of you, but you were so sick.

When he walked in the door, all of the lights were off and it was slightly stuffy. The windows were all closed and you obviously didn't eat, seeing the empty kitchen sink with no dirty dishes. He sighs and makes his way to the bathroom. He goes to turn on the light when he hears the soft sound of sobbing from the bedroom. He freezes and turns towards the bedroom door, walking over to sneakily place his ear on it. You're crying. Kento knocks on the door. "Y/n?" Immediately, the sound stops. "Can I come in, please?" You sigh shakily underneath the covers. How the fuck did he hear you? You tell him no. The door creaks open and he softly closes the door behind him.

He walks around to your side of the bed and kneels down to see your puffy face, wet with tears. It breaks his heart knowing he was gone and couldn't comfort you when you were crying like this. "Hey, what's wrong?" He rubs your arm above the blankets and you sniffle. "It's nothing. Please leave me alone." God, you sounded like you were in pain. You could almost see a vein popping out of his neck. You were beginning to stress him out. "Y/n." You shook your head. "No."

His eye twitched and he got into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor. "Sweetie, you know I told you not to keep secrets. Can you please tell me what has you so upset?" It was so painfully obvious what was wrong. There were used tissues scattered on the ground, you had so many blankets, and he could see your sunken in face.

"You're sick."

You used the energy you didn't have to try and turn the other way. You only managed to get yourself onto your back. It was silent between the two of you. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on not crying again, but it was just too much. You didn't want his help. He ruined your life. Kidnapped you, erased your public image, got rid of your phone number. You had nothing but him. You didn't want him. You ignored him. You tried to ignore him. He's right here for you and you just can't help but realize he's quite literally all that you have. It's so humiliating how you have to depend on the only person who you hate that is willingly giving himself to you like this.

A terrible sob rips itself out of your chest and you cover your face with your hands, a migraine reappearing at the strain you place on yourself once more. "I know I'm sick. I fucking know!" You couldn't even properly yell at him, too tired to even try. He frowns, and kneels on the floor, closer to the edge of the bed. "Then why don't you let me take care of you?" He wants to wipe your face of the tears, wipe the sweat off of your forehead. Feel you again. But he's scared he'll stress you out even more.

His hand almost hovers over your face as you cry. Your sad sigh of pain gives him the courage he needs to gently bring the back of his index finger over your face. He wipes a tear that falls down your cheek before bringing his other hand to wipe the other side completely. You let him. His touch was so very gentle. As if he didn't want to scare you away. "I can take care of you...." I am capable, he wanted to add that on. He loved you so much. He would rather fight a thousand curses before seeing you in this state again. He will do almost anything for you. Anything to see you happy. See you smile. He wanted to be fully yours. And he will do anything to prove that to you. Your eyes flutter open when he's done and you look over at him sadly.

Your eyes, so beautiful and beguiling, give him the softest look he's ever gotten from you. It makes his heart skip a beat and he sits up straighter. He would smile at you, but now is obviously not the time for that. "How do you feel? Do you want me to bring you medicine? Are you still in pain?" You look away before making eye contact with him again and nodding. He nods back and responds, "Okay. I will bring you some medicine and more water to drink." He wipes stray hairs off of your face, realizing how much you had to neglect yourself to rest. "I will make you beef stew, as well. You might be hungry, and your body needs energy to survive. I won't let you drink just water. Hopefully you will finish it all, and by then, maybe I could get you cleaned up, if you allow me to." You stare at him silently. He was offering to help you get better. You honestly don't remember the last time anyone has done that for you. But even then, he was still your kidnapper. Still, though, what were you going to do, say no? You hesitate before nodding to him. His face finally softens and he caresses your cheek one more time before forcing himself to stop.

"I love you." A weight is lifted off of his chest when he says those words. He wanted to say it to you in a better moment, but any moment is a good moment rather than when it's too late. He doesn't let you respond and gets up to leave and make you stew, a new fervor in his stride.

[jirsungs]

ep 13: my wonderwall, at least i hope so

word count: 1.5k words

It's already been two months and three weeks since you and Jisung started hanging out. That's also how long the overthinking thoughts of whether you really want to pursue this relationship or not have been torturing you as they're kept in a locked folder in the back of your mind. 

You knew you and Jisung had to have the talk at some point, but every time you tried, the timing was always a bit… off.

The first time you tried was two weeks ago, at another Rockway gig. It was getting on your nerves that a bunch of screaming girls came to that particular performance of theirs, especially when some of them were eyeing Jisung and losing their minds every time he looked over in their direction to play his typical drummer role of pleasing the audience correctly. Even though he caught their attention the whole night, you caught his, which is how you succeeded in pulling him aside after Rockway finished their performance.

“Jisung, can I talk to you for a moment?”

It wasn't the right time or place, sure, but you had to get this off your chest because your heart felt like it was on a ticking time bomb.

Jisung joins you in the corner after he frees himself away from the girls around him once Chenle gets his signal that he’s desperate for a way out. “What’s up? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to talk to you. I know this isn't a good time right now but I seriously need to say this.”

He only raises his brow, “Okay.” He's anxious, but he doesn't have time to dwell on how he's feeling when he's worried about you. The way you’re visibly stressing out has him putting the pieces together on why you called him over, but as Chenle and Jeno said, he was going to wait for your lead.

“I like—” 

You. I like you. That's what you were supposed to say, and so much more. Until some dumb overly excited girls came over and interrupted your private conversation. 

The squeals of “Jisung, you did soooo well tonight!”, “You were so hot up there!” and “Can I get your number?” sounded blurry in your head with how irritated you were getting.

Yeah… You ended up leaving Jisung and the party in general despite the sad protests from your friends on how “you needed to cheer yourself up.” But, you brushed them off by telling them that it was impossible to do that right now. 

So, you ended your night in your apartment alone with the accompaniment of a big bucket of cookie dough ice cream, multiple episodes of How I Met Your Mother, and no friends or Jisung by your side. 

You tried again the week after, but just like last time, it did not turn out so well.

You should've known that it wouldn't work because it was during a hangout with both of your friend groups, specifically hosted at Jisung and Jeno's apartment.

Jaemin, Haechan, Chenle, and Yeonjun were busy being loud as they screamed over one another during a game of Mario Kart 8 in the living room while Jeno helped Ning finish a two-thousand-piece puzzle downstairs. And, Mark and Renjun were nowhere to be found due to them both having different plans set for that day.

Which left you and Jisung in his room. Alone. He originally brought you up here to show off his new collectibles, so you weren't sure how you ended up watching a movie with him on his bed.

It seemed like the perfect time to tell him, it really did. But just as you were about to open your mouth, your phone rang, leaving you on the phone with Renjun for three whole hours while he ranted about someone who pissed him off at his group study session. And by the time your conversation with Renjun ended and you hung up, Jisung was already occupied by a game of Super Smash Bros with your friends in the living room. 

You're still mad at Renjun for ruining the moment.

And now, you're here, a few days after, in Jeno and Jisung’s apartment once again, but this time, sitting on their living room couch with him right next to you. 

Neither of you spoke during the movie you were currently watching, probably because you both wanted to ignore the awkward tension that's been spiraling around the two of you for the past few weeks. But to you, now seemed like the perfect time to break that. It was dark out and you were both left alone as Jeno had to leave to run errands. 

“Ji, can you pause the movie?”

Without asking, Jisung mutters “Sure.” before grabbing the remote control and pausing the movie.

With his attention on you, you sit up and fix your posture on the couch, which he mirrors. You thought fixing your appearance would help balance yourself from the overcoming emotions you knew you were going to have at this very moment. 

“Okay, well—”

But then, you get interrupted again. Not by Jeno walking in, or a random phone call from one of your friends, but by him.

“Wait! Before you tell me your thing, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

Despite the small annoyance that was creeping on you, you dismissed it and instead, anticipated what he was going to say. Most times, you didn’t mind how oblivious Jisung was, but right now, you really wish he could read the room and let you say what’s on your mind. You hope he’s going to say the same thing you were going to say, but he didn’t need to interrupt you for it…

Your silence cues him to continue, “You remember Oasis? You know, the band I told you about?” You nod. “Okay, um, there’s this one song by them, it’s actually one of my favorites. It’s called Wonderwall, it’s kinda like a love song but uh—I’m not saying we’re in love ‘cause obviously we’re not—”

“We’re not?”

Shit. That’s not what Jisung meant.

He panics, “No! I mean–yes? Fuck, I dunno, Y/N.” 

“Oh. Okay.”

The thing is, you know that he didn’t mean anything bad out of it, then how come you felt your heart break into two hearing how unsure he felt about you? Should you even confess right now? No, this doesn’t feel right.

The room is full of complete and uncomfortable silence with no other words said, and it annoys the hell out of you. You can tell it bothers Jisung just as much because you watch him mentally stress out in front of you, his face in his hands as he lets out an exasperated sigh. Both of your minds were pushing you to fix the problem, but you can’t. You don’t know how to. This is new for you both, and that’s the problem. 

Just as Jisung grasps a new idea in his head, he sees you physically pull farther away from him before you grab your bag from the side and stand up from your place on the couch. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, your voice coming out quavered, “I–um, I gotta go.”

Scared to see his reaction or hear his voice, you thought what was best. You escape. You rush out of his apartment, giving him no time to react at all. The last sounds Jisung heard were the slam of the door and the words Chase after her, don’t her go from the little voice in his head.

Jisung knew you were hiding yourself away from him again. He noticed it the first night you hung out and some moments after that, but he felt that it was insensitive to bring it up out of nowhere. Right now was one of those moments. 

When you’re outside of the apartment, you’re met with Jeno who’s looking at you, puzzled and worried. Even though it felt like your world was crashing down on you, the way he almost resembled a Samoyed dog and how you could imagine the cogs in his brain turning lightened your mood a little bit. But just like Jisung, you gave him no time to say anything. 

“Y/N!” You hear Jeno call after you after you quickly walk away. 

Just like he expected you to, you ignore him and he watches you rush down the stairs. Many scenarios were circling in his head right now, but he didn’t want to assume the worst before he asked Jisung himself.

Jeno inserts his assigned key into the key slot before turning it, the door unlocking right after. He walks in and sees no Jisung in the living room or kitchen. 

There’s no way that kid escaped. He thinks.

He’s about to let it pass him by until he notices Jisung’s door slightly cracked open. He walks over and gently pushes it to reveal the younger one sprawled on his bed. Though he knows it’s not the best moment, he snickers at the sight. Oh, Jisung's in love. 

Then, he hears a pouty “You know, I can hear you, Jeno.” come from Jisung before he watches him switch positions on his bed. His disheveled hair and the I fucked up expression he’s wearing tell Jeno all he needs to know. 

Already knowing he’s going to be here for a while, the said man opens the door more to give himself space to get comfortable. He rests his body against the doorframe, folds his arms then sighs, “Alright, what’d you do, kid?”

“I messed up.”

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note: i had my considered "sad songs" on repeat the whole time i was writing this and i think i memorized every single song by the time i was done with it ☠️ also, new twt pfps 😱 (they made me feel better) but i am wishing our dms couple all the happiness in the world ☹️

🎫: @idkwhatursayinh @sunghoonsgfreal @multifandomania @nanaxwi @odxrilove @sourrpatched @hancafe @chaellaa @dojaejunging @jising-jisang-jisung @heheheeral @haechansbbg @renjunsversion @seunghancore @woshixinqgiu @jiiieun @pinknjm @mrshwang-park @neozon3nha @joyzluvr @aerivrs @nosungluv @haechology

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time - Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Confessions finally come to light and Jessie has the chance to ask you what she should've asked you years ago.

Warnings: Mild language. Outside of that - none. Just fluff, fluff, fluff.

A/N: I'm ignoring the most recent Thorns results in this story, btw lol. They're gonna rebound - I know it! Previous parts for this series can be found on my masterlist.

"Nice playing tonight. Congrats on the win." 

Jessie smiled to herself as she sat on the twin-sized bed of her hotel room and laid back, resting her head on the pillow.  

A few team members were still downstairs in the hotel restaurant, but she was beat and needed some downtime. She knew Janine would stay down with the group for a while, so this was her chance to get some solitude.  

"Thank you! I'm super happy with how the team was playing together today. And away games can be tough, but I'm stoked. Anyway, enough football talk lol how was your dinner?" 

"Well, you play Utah next – I'm no expert analyst, but as far as I can tell, your chances for 3 points are good lol. And dinner was delicious – thank you for asking. [Y/friend] and [Y/other friend] went out for drinks after but I called it a night. I'm exhausted after this week." 

"Lol I don't want to jinx anything, but yeah, you may be right about those 3 points. Sorry to hear you're so tired. You had a super stressful week though – I know work was crazy for you and then your brother showing up out of the blue. Yeah. That's a rough week. I'm sorry I'm not there to help more." 

"What are you talking about? You were so helpful. I bet you thought you were done hearing about my family drama, but here we are again lol. It's just a lot less common now – thank God. And anyway, what about you – what are you up to? Don't feel like you have to text me. I know you're with the team." 

"It's not a problem – seriously. Call me anytime. And it's all good – I've retreated to my room early. It's been a long day." 

"Okay, still, don't feel like you have to respond. I know you need your me-time; take it if you can get it." 

"It's alright. Really.-" 

Jessie stared at her phone for a few seconds as she contemplated continuing her thought. Screw it.  

"-I'm happy talking with you."  

She hit send and subconsciously held her breath for a second before remembering to breathe. She worked to dismiss any mounting anxieties, but had a hard time denying the way her pulse had quickened. It only got faster when she saw you starting to type. Her eyes remained fixed onto the screen until your reply came through.  

"Well that makes two of us." 

"As in I'm happy talking with you." 

Jessie chuckled, relief going through her body. She lifted a finger to her mouth and mindlessly chewed at her skin. Her brow creased as she contemplated her next move. Thoughts ping-ponged inside her mind before she threw caution to the wind – very intently so – and started texting. 

"Lol I understood." 

"Hey, are you busy next weekend? There's this pop-up exhibit in town for a few days. Maybe we could go and grab a late dinner together after?" 

"Are you talking about the CityScape exhibit? I wanted to go to that! Yes, that sounds amazing." 

Jessie beamed from ear to ear. 

"Okay, awesome. I'll get tickets." 

"Thanks, just tell me what I owe you." 

"Nothing at all 😊" 

"Stop it. Tell me what I owe you. Or I can just buy dinner, then. Whatever works." 

Jessie huffed. She was conjuring up a rebuttal when another message came in from you. 

"Okay, I have to confess something. It's been weighing on me for years and this just totally made me think of it again." 

Jessie frowned as she wracked her mind for any possibility of what you may be referring to.  

"Okay. What is it? Whatever it is, I'm sure it's okay." 

"Lol you say that now." 

"K. Remember when we went to that underground art show and then dinner and drinks in WeHo a few months after we first met? Or more specifically, remember when you asked me if I wanted to go to that?" 

Of course she did. You looked amazing that night. She was grateful that Teagan and Mia were there to distract her because if it had just been the two of you, she wasn't sure if she'd have been able to function.  

"Yeah, I remember. Why?" 

"So, full disclosure, I legitimately thought you were asking me on a date to that. When you showed up with Mia and Teags? DEAD. Let's just say it was a very humbling experience hahaha. So embarrassing! Enough time has passed that I can admit to it lol. It cracks me up now." 

Jessie didn't even realize her mouth was agape. Her mind was absolutely foggy and turned upside down as she reread your message again and again. She felt like she was having an out of body experience. Her mouth was dry and she started stammering even though there was no one to hear it.  

She needed to talk to Janine.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she found herself hauling open the hotel door and started padding down the hall until she realized she didn't have shoes on. She whipped around in a flurry to go back into the room and grab her shoes.  

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she more or less faceplanted into the door when it didn't open as she turned the handle. In her fluster she forgot she needed a key to open it. She stared down blankly at the lock for a few seconds before belatedly realizing she'd left the hotel key in the room. "Oh my god," she growled under breath. She spun on her heel and looked down the hall as she contemplated what to do.  

She looked back down at her phone and called up Janine. She let out another frustrated growl when the call went to voicemail. She texted her. "CALL ME. NOW." 

She paced back and forth in the hallway for a few seconds before looking back at the message you sent. Now anxiety around not replying to you was setting in. She didn't want you to think she was put off by what you said, but she also didn't know what the heck to say. This was too precarious a situation.  

She stood there motionless for a moment as she weighed her options and before she could start to overthink things she took off down the hall to the elevators.  

Once inside, she hit the 'M' button and the button to close the doors repeatedly in a vain attempt to move this journey along faster. She groaned when the elevator slowed at one of the floors along the way. She offered the joining guest a stiff smile and felt heat rush to her face when they glanced down at her sock feet.  

Once at the main floor, she took long, brisk steps towards the restaurant where she'd left the team and searched the remaining crowd for Janine. She spotted the blonde at a table towards the back and took a few steps into the restaurant – hoping not to get caught by the host. Thankfully, she caught Janine's eye. She waved the blonde over with uncharacteristically exaggerated movements and the blonde just frowned at her. Jessie's shoulders slumped in momentary defeat and frustration before she gave the girl another pointed look and gave a sharp wave. The blonde held up her hands in concession and got up. Jessie caught the curious looks the rest of her team gave her and offered a mere wave of 'hello' before grabbing Janine by the arm when she approached and dragging her out into the lobby.  

"I need your help." 

"What the heck!" Janine complained as she jerked her arm out of Jessie's grasp and shook it out for show. "What is going on? And why are you in your socks," she went on as she gave Jessie a disapproving look.  

Jessie bit back a sardonic, tense reply and instead just held up her phone to Janine's face. The blonde winced at the sudden movement and frowned as she read the message, before her jaw, too, fell like Jessie's had earlier.  

"Oh my gosh," Janine said in bewilderment. Jessie nodded repeatedly. "Oh. My. Gosh! Okay. So – what the heck – you left her on read?" 

"I didn't know what to say!" Jessie responded with a harsh whisper, gaze flitting about as she tried to not draw further attention to them.  

"Oh my gosh, Jessie. You're the worst," she said with an eye roll as she began to usher the smaller girl towards the elevators. Before Jessie could protest, Janine held up her hand in declaration, "Okay. We need a game plan..."

Jessie's mind was still racing as she stared vacantly at the elevator floor deep in thought as she pieced things together. Suddenly, she inhaled sharply, eyes growing wide as she lifted her head to look at Janine.

"She went on her first date with [an ex] like a month after that night! Wa-" She stopped herself momentarily, thoughts resetting before she started again, "Wait - do you think if we'd actually had a date that night that she wouldn't have dated her?"

Janine gave her a long stare that tapered into a look that was half sympathetic, half pointed. "Jess."

"Oh my God," Jessie groaned as she rubbed her face.

"Sorry - that was probably really awkward. That was a long time ago. And obviously it was all good in the end. Anyway, now I can die with an unburdened soul lol.”

“What do I say!” Jessie said, her voice rising while her heart beat out of her chest.

The elevator dinged as they reached their floor and the two looked at each other before exiting and heading to their room.

“Well, this could be your opportunity. Why not just tell her that you liked her? I know you aren’t comfortable telling her you like her now. But you can admit to it for the past,” Janine suggested.

Jessie’s eyes scanned around as she processed the different scenarios and outcomes that could arise. Her instinct was to say “no”, but she really couldn’t find a logical reason to deny it. She huffed.

“Okay. Well. What - I just say ‘Oh hey - speaking of funny stories, I had a crush on you for years. And I’m glad your exes hated me, cause guess what, I hated them because I was jealous’?” Jessie said moodily as she crossed her arms.

“Maybe not that,” Janine said with a sidelong glance.

The girls talked hurriedly, debating back and forth about what to say until Janine threw her hands up in relinquishment.

“I told you what I think. It’s your call. This is your relationship. Or - would-be relationship,” she relayed.

Jessie sighed heavily once more and sat down on the edge of her bed. She had to chill out. She reminded herself that this time things were supposed to be different. And that she was different, and not so scared.

“Sooo does that mean you would’ve said “yes” to a date? Wish I had known. I would’ve gladly taken you on a date.”

Jessie exhaled slowly as the message sent. She looked up to Janine and ignored how her ears were ringing.

She glanced back down and immediately saw bubbles come up.

“Lol! I’m sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“Jessie! Come on.”

“What? I’m dead serious. Question is if you would’ve actually said ‘yes’.”

“I wore my nicest dress and actually put in the time to do my hair and make-up properly. So I’ll leave that up to you to interpret.”

“Janine,” Jessie complained, her pitch rising as she rubbed her face in aggravation before bringing the hand down to slap against her leg. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Well I could’ve told you that,” Janine rebutted without hesitation before pausing and giving a small shrug. “For this situation anyway.”

Jessie exhaled in frustration again as she readjusted position on the bed, eyes still transfixed on your text. You know what? She might as well own it.

“Well, I’m an idiot. I truly thought I didn’t have a chance with you. For the record, you looked stunning that night. But also for the record, I liked you just as much in your everyday clothes and makeup or when you didn’t try at all.”

By now Janine was kneeling on the bed behind Jessie, hands on Jessie’s shoulders as she watched everything unfold. She was started to make a remark when she let out a loud gasp as Jessie’s screen lit up with a call from you.

“Oh my gosh!” Janine exclaimed.

“Shit!” Jessie said as panic began to rush through her. She was about to accept when she noted Janine’s head right next to her and she shook the blonde off of her. “Go!”

“Oh now you want me to leave,” Janine protested.

Jessie waved her off and took a steadying breath before answering and holding the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Jessie Fleming. You start off by giving me a heart attack - just leaving me hanging after I share my deeply embarrassing and humbling story. And now you come out of left field with - I think - a confession of your own? Are you fucking with me right now?”

Jessie choked and coughed at your wording. You didn’t sound mad at all. Bewildered? Yes.

“No. No I’m not,” she said much more tentatively than she’d intended.

The line was silent for a few seconds and Jessie was about to check if the call dropped when you spoke up again. This time you were the one who sounded tentative.

“Okay. Wait. Let’s recap. So-” Jessie could practically hear you thinking. “-you’re saying you would’ve wanted to go on a date together?”

Jessie pushed her hair back unnecessarily. “Um, yeah.” She shook her head out and spoke more confidently. “Yes. I would’ve.”

She heard you give a disbelieving chuckle. “But you didn’t,” you said slowly, but matter of fact. “I’m sorry. I’m just kind of shocked,” you laughed further. “You felt like you didn’t have a chance with me? Are you serious?”

Jessie exhaled, eyes set on the floor as she gave a shrug of her shoulders. “Dead serious.”

“Come on. The great, unattainable, Jessie Fleming, liked me? Impossible. I mean, yeah, we were close, but you never really showed any indication of it being more. I mean, at most it must’ve been short lived.”

Jessie tried to process your words that were coming at her a mile a minute. You gave her an out. She could say it was a fleeting thing. A curiosity. But, Janine was right, this really was the chance.

“Uh,” Jessie rubbed her face distractedly, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks, “if ‘short lived’ means all through uni, then sure.”

The call was silent again and Jessie could hear her pulse throbbing inside of her head until you finally spoke again.

“Now you’re really fucking with me."

Jessie's body continued to heat up and she tugged subconsciously at the collar of her shirt.

"I've said too much already. I mean, it was obviously short lived on your end - which is totally fine."

"Why do you say that?" You questioned.

Jessie frowned, making a face and ignoring how Janine was attempting to look occupied with her own thing, but clearly eavesdropping.

"What do you mean?" Jessie asked, careful not to sound argumentative. "You dated a lot of girls in university. Well, not a lot. You know what I mean."

She heard you give a short laugh on the other end of the call before speaking wryly.

"Well, maybe - no, never mind." You exhaled lightly. "Anyway - it's all in the past, but, consider me stunned." You gave a bit of a chuckle. "I hope you're more forward with girls now than you were then. I really didn't know you had any interest."

"I was shy," Jessie offered as she scratched her temple. "Like painfully shy. And you were so pretty, and smart, and charming - I just didn't know what to do."

A glare crossed Jessie's face as Janine hopped down in front of her and mouthed 'Tell her you like her!" as she gestured wildly in the air.

"Well, now I'm extra confused about why we didn't stay in contact after university. If you liked me that much," you stated without challenge.

Jessie sighed. She'd told you enough. She didn't need to get into how desperately in love she was that she needed to cut herself off from you altogether to even have a hope of moving on.

"I mean, we don't need to rehash it all. Anyway, recap, I liked you, you were open to a date, but I stupidly didn't ask you out." Jessie chuckled, trying to keep things light. She cleared her throat and the heat that had started to fade from her face came raging back and she began to fidget. "And, um," - she glanced to Janine for reassurance - "I don't know. If you're open to it, maybe we could finally have that date. When I pick you up next time, it could be a date - for real."

She heard you hum before speaking.

"That sounds really nice. Yes. I'd like that a lot."

Jessie's eyes lit up and her posture straightened immediately as she looked to Janine excitedly. The blonde gave a boisterous, but silent celebration.

"Okay," Jessie said, her voice growing tight momentarily as she tried to remain composed. She cleared her throat and relaxed her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan, then."

A/N: Part Five is available here.

[luveline]

hi jade! :-) have you written any tasm!peter x pregnant!reader blurbs? (if not, you should write one where he finds out reader is pregnant and is very anxious about it pls pls plssss <3)

hi upon reflection i can't tell if you wanted reader to be anxious or peter so sry if I chose wrong ha!! ty for requesting!! —tasm!peter comforts freshly pregnant!reader when she worries <3 1.6k

You missed your period two weeks ago, and you'd been excited, you and Peter both had, but your pregnancy test gave a negative. It might've been slightly too early at the time to take one, reflecting back. Or maybe you should've taken a more accurate test.

Because it's been two weeks since then, and the pregnancy test in your hand is positive. You got one of the fancy ones after a strange feeling while standing in the pharmacy, staring at different boxes. It's a digital test that cost too much money, and it says loud and proud: Pregnant 3+. 

You're more than three weeks pregnant. If you think about it, you're likely four weeks along, just a week before the heartbeat could begin. 

And of course, you really want to be pregnant, you and Peter are newlywed but long in love, you'd been trying for this and that negative test upset you at the time, but this is a different kind of upset. You're suddenly and deeply worried. Your heart rate starts to climb. 

"Hey?" Peter calls, a room away but hearing so brilliant he may as well have his ear to your chest. He doesn't usually listen to you and especially when you're in the bathroom, but his spidey sense alerts him to stuff like this, panic out of the ordinary, potential danger. "What's wrong?" 

"I think you'll have to come in here," you say gently. 

"Yeah, I'm coming." 

Bedsprings creak. There's a low step up into the ensuite, and you'd left the door open. Within seconds he's standing in the doorway, frowning at you where you're perched on the lip of the bath. 

He sees the pregnancy test, sees your pinched brows, and assumes the wrong thing. "Hey, sweetheart. It's alright. You don't mind trying again, do you?" he asks, teasing lightly. "Sometimes it takes time, you know? You've been trying all those things to make it stick. I read that stressing out can actually prevent–" 

"No, Pete," you say, turning the stick to show him. You smile despite your nerves. 

He takes the test. His hands start to shake, his excitement like a shot of adrenaline, but he looks between the test and your fear and he tries to hide it from you. "You're not happy?" he asks. 

Peter doesn't put down the test. With his empty hand, he takes your face into a warm palm. 

"I– I–" You have the jitters, and your stomach hurts, and everything that was scary about pregnancy didn't seem to matter when you were trying because it was gonna be your baby, his baby. "I don't know what's wrong, I thought I knew how I felt, it's not that I don't want this." 

"Woah…" His hand smooths down to your shoulder. "Can I give you a hug?"

You hurt your arm trying to pull him in, yanking it up weird with the swiftness of it as you grab his back. Peter hugs your head to his abdomen with less force. 

"It's okay," he says, leaning down to kiss your temple. 

"Sorry–" 

"No, don't be! You don't have to feel one way about it, just don't panic. I got you." 

"Not panicking, I just– I'm pregnant." 

"You are," he says, giving you another kiss. He can't seem to hold any of it back then, his grip on you tightening, his kiss turning to a handful. "I love you. I love you so much. I promise whatever it is that's freaking you out is something we can take care of." 

"I want it," you promise. 

"I'm glad," he says, turning your head up, kissing you on the lips. You catch a glance of his glassy eyes. "I'm so happy." 

If Peter thought you weren't pleased about all this you know he'd pull it back, but he's happy enough to calm the anxiety. At least, enough to calm your racing heart. Dread stays at the pit of your stomach next to joy. It's much louder. 

"I think I'm really scared about everything changing," you say, voice like you're being squeezed. 

"Sweetheart." Peter pets your shoulders. "Me and you need to go lie down, I think."

"Where's the test?" you ask. You want to look again, to be sure. 

He takes it from his pocket and passes it back. You have no idea when he put it away. You stare at the tiny digital screen, 3+. 

Peter basically carries you to the bed with his impressive and annoying strength like you don't weigh a thing. He fluffs the pillows, pulls back the sheets, and tucks them over your curled up body with infinite care. "You want something to drink?" 

"I don't want to cry," you say instead of answering, feeling the hot sting of tears as it builds behind your eyes. "I want to be happier, I promise, I am happy." 

Peter sits down next to you. He puts his head next to yours on the pillow, so when he talks, the exhale of his words kisses your face, "You know, I'm like, going crazy right now. I'm so fucking happy I don't think I could explain it to you, I want to be the dad to your baby, I want to live here with you forever and have kids and dogs and sit on the big porch with you at the end of the day while they run around in the grass, but–" He laughs bashfully, his eyes slipping closed as his nose tip touches yours. "But I want what you want, you know? If you're not ready for a baby like you thought, that's not a crime. We can wait. I can wait as long as you need me to." 

"No… Peter, I do, I'm just– I'm pregnant." You said that already, but you failed to explain. You try again. "I'm worried about being pregnant, I– I already feel sick. That's why I went to get the test, and I'm scared of how hard this is going to be. I still want this, though. I swear, I want it." 

"You don't have to worry," he says, though he opens his eyes, and leans back. "I know it's going to be really hard and that there's gonna be moments where you feel like shit and want it to be over, but I'm gonna be with you that entire time. I'll do literally anything you need or want me to do. I'll stand on my head," —you start to cry, rare and fat tears— "I'll make this as easy as possible on you. If worrying about how hard it is is what's stopping you from being excited, then you can put all that weight on me. Trust me to worry about it for you." 

He wipes your cheeks with his hand, index finger ghosting the delicate skin under your eye. 

"You promise you're gonna look after me?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

"I swear on my life." He doesn't seem offended that you need reassurance, hugging you, his hand sliding up and down your side and nudging your shirt with each stroke. 

"Okay," you say, taking a deep breath. "Okay." 

The excitement comes slowly at first like a puncture, but it weasels out, and you rub your eyes with a wet sounding laugh. 

"Happy?" he asks. 

You laugh louder. "Really happy, Pete." 

He laughs with you and hugs you flush to his front, your stomachs touching, your hearts separated by fat, muscle, and little else. He hugs you so hard you swear you can feel his heartbeat. 

"Whoo!" he shouts, your loser. Ecstatic. "Shit, baby, you're gonna have a baby!"

"We," you amend. 

"Yes, we!" he agrees, pulling away, taking your face into his hand as he had but with half the concern and twice the excitement. "This is awesome. Let me give you the world's biggest kiss and then we'll go celebrate, okay? We'll have a really great dinner and I'm gonna treat you to whatever you want, alright? Some pyjamas from Uniqlo." He beams as he adds, "We need to go to the pharmacy. You need prenatal vitamins." 

"Forget vitamins. We're gonna have to stop eating take out every Friday," you say. 

"Do we really need to?" he asks, playfully whining. 

"Maybe. I'm definitely gonna need to eat more salad. And the vitamins might be a good idea, actually." 

Peter smiles. He kisses you rather gently considering what he promised, not the world's biggest but maybe the world's most loving. He pulls away, kisses you again like he can't help it. He does that twice, before crawling backward off of the bed to find you both clothes to wear. 

"Come on, my pregnant sweetheart. You're finally eating for two, maybe you'll actually be able to keep up with me now." 

You giggle and wipe the last of your worried tears away. "Sure, if I were having octuplets." 

"We'll find out," he says, tossing a pair of pants at your feet. "Come on! Or… take your time. I guess I have to get used to you being slow." 

"I'm not that pregnant."  

Peter leaps across the sheets to give you another kiss. You shriek with laughter, kissed until your cheeks are aflame and you're a thousand times more happy than you are anxious. 

[halucynator]

YOU COULD'VE DIED!

So I had this request and I totally forgot about it and I'm so so so so so so so sorry lol

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of weight, anxiety attacks, eating disorder, reader has adhd, not proof read and my writing lol

Request: So the reader a long time ago like when she was eighth/9ish used to be on the bigger side before her adhd meds and then got really skinny and stuff and timeskip to sixth year her meds don’t really work aswelll so she starts getting an appetite that was usually suppressed and she quit quidditch last year because of stress and her biggest fear is secretly getting fat again and she starts to have so much anxiety about it

WARNING: I am in no way shaming any one in this text. You are beautiful the way you are. I'm just adhering to the request. I do not agree with anything horrible about weight or anything else you can think of that is in this text.

I'm also really really sorry if you go through eating disorders or something similar to what's mentioned in this text x stay strong xx you're not alone 💕

Most people have nightmares about psycho killers in white masks with a knife who are really crazily into fictional movies they try to make it reality. Most people have nightmares about falling from really high cliffs with jagged edges that could rip you in half quicker than the speed of the platform 9¾'s train. Most people have nightmares about burning in fires that could kill you probably faster than the Dursleys burnt Harry's hogwarts letters.

But not you. You had nightmares about gaining weight. About being the girl that you were when you were nine. You hated your ADHD but oh those adhd meds really helped you to stop being the obese person you were. You were disgusted by your younger self even though you shouldn't have been.

You sat in the Great Hall processing your nightmare. You knew you had a normal weight, probably even lower than healthy. And yet you looked around at all those pretty girls with effortless hourglass bodies and wished you could look like them. You knew you had a normal weight and yet your dreams, or perhaps nightmares, kept on taunting you about it.

Those thoughts clouded your mind. Filled your head. Over and over. And over. Until you felt like starving yourself. And you'd do that until you fainted and realised it's really unhealthy. But then it'd be too late and this vicious cycle continued until you felt like you couldn't do it anymore. Until you were sick of being yourself. Until you wished you were anyone but yourself. Until y-

"Hey y/n!" Theo greeted you as he entered the Great Hall. He was the first one there. After you of course. He grabbed a vanilla cupcake with strawberry icing and sprinkles for himself and a chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing for you.

"here I got you a chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing. Your favourite." Theo smiled as he passed it on to you.

Even though your heart wanted to accept it, your brain knew better.

"no I'm fine, really! Thanks so much though! I'm full" you replied. as if to reprimand you, your stomach rumbled.

"your stomach disagrees" he chuckled. "go on have it it's fine it's just a cupcake"

You knew he was trying to be a good friend. You knew he was looking out for you at yet it was so hard for you to suppress the urge to scream "just a cupcake? JUST A CUPCAKE?! well, I'll have you know that cupcake contains sugar and butter which stores in your body as fat so you wouldn't even suggest it unless you hated me" you obviously didn't say it out loud. You knew you were overreacting in your head.

"erm no thanks." You politely turned the offer of the cupcake down.

"Ya sure?" He asked one last time.

"yup." You replied.

"alright suit yourself" Blaise said as he leaned across the table to get the cupcake from your side.

You didn't have dinner that night and the couple of nights after either. You knew you should've. But you were so insecure about your weight you just couldn't. So you didn't. And you should've. You really should've.

Unfortunately for you, you realised that too late.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

You woke up on a white bed. Where were you? You glanced around. There was no way. You were in a hospital bed. After Theo explained it to you, you realised what had happened. On your way to the dorm you had fainted due to the lack of food. You had no energy left in your body and it finally gave out. Theo had realised you had fainted and had carried you to the Madam Pomfrey's. He looked strangely cross at you.

"T-thanks" you replied to him.

"for what?" He said. "I couldn't save you."

"you kinda did" you said smiling at him.

He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you. It was a cookie.

Before you could say no, he cut you off.

"you are eating this cookie right now or I will never forgive myself for letting you starve yourself."

You reluctantly grabbed the cookie.

"you didn't make me starve myself. I did it to myself. It's not your fault." You replied as you broke a piece off the cookie.

"but why?" He asked.

"sorry?"

"why did you starve yourself"

"erm i well i had a nightmare I was gaining weight and I thought I was I had gained half a kilogram since last year and I just thought I'd look ugly and I just didn't want to not be liked by anyone!" there it was. The word vomit. The bundle of feelings inside of you all out to the one person you thought would be disgusted by you if you ever gained weight. The one person you loved.

"Woah! Slow down. No matter how many kilograms you put in you'll never be fat or ugly! I can't believe you let a nightmare lead you on! You can't have an unhealthy relationship with food!" He exclaimed.

"you're just saying that."

"I'm not just saying that. I mean it y/n. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I fell in love with you and a couple kilograms isn't gonna change that." He replied.

"Aw- wait you what?!" You asked realising what he just said.

"I thought it was obvious? I love you y/n. I always have" Theo said. "but I'm still cross at you for not eating food."

"ok ok I'm sorry." You replied.

"YOU COULD'VE DIED!" Pansy exclaimed bursting into the room.

"Jesus Christ Pansy! You almost gave me a heart attack!" You said shocked at her entrance.

But you knew her words were right. And so were Theo's. From that moment you tried to prevent yourself from starving yourself and with the support of Theo and all your friends it was that much more easy.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

A/n: the ending kinda sucks lol sorry for the lateness of this x hope you liked it!!

Taglist: @m3ntallyunstable34 lmk if you want to be added to my taglist (through asks or you can message me x I'll always respond ❤️)

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Hi so I wanted to request something I just thought of if that’s okay! A little meet cute story from season 4 where reader is the midwife who helped deliver Henry and her and Reid meet in the hospital and just hit it off🥺

this is so cute! this strays a lot from the plot of the episode because i haven't watched it forever and don't feel like it lmao

The Lanky Guy in Room 603

She wasn't sure if the long, lanky man curled up in the uncomfortable chair was Jennifer's brother or husband. He looked young; with a blemish-free baby face and a mop of soft brown hair. She could tell it had a slight curl to it and she had to resist an urge to tuck the stray pieces that fanned out behind his ear. Perhaps it was because she spent her days and nights caring for expecting parents, she just couldn't help but want to care for the sleeping man.

Jennifer was watching television, a pained look on her face as she held her round belly.

"You said it would be today," Jennifer groaned, the pain of labor evident on her face, "It's almost tomorrow."

Y/N sat on the stool beside Jennifer's bed, "I know I did, honey." She pressed a damp cloth to Jennifer sweaty face, attempting to cool down her body temperature. "But it seems like this little baby's got a mind of their own."

"Just like her mother."

The voice came from behind her. The sleep man, now not sleeping, unfolded himself from his pretzel-like position on the chair. He joints popped as he stretched his legs. Y/N noticed his socks were patterned. His left foot donned socks with gray tabby cats and a navy blue background. His right foot donned pumpkins on a lavender background.

Jennifer smiled, thanking Y/N for the damp cloth, as her companion checked her vitals. He peered at the numbers, probably attempting to decipher their meanings regarding his wife's health.

"Your wife is perfectly healthy, sir. You''ll have a healthy, sweet, baby within the next day. I'm sure of it."

Jennifer chuckled, "He's not my husband. Spencer's my....."

"Co-worker. Very proud godfather of her soon to be born baby girl?" Spencer injected, still reading the vitals.

"I'm concerned about JJ's vitals. Are you sure that her lab work is updated? It needs to reflect the high stress nature of her job. And her blood pressure? It was last checked thirteen minutes and twenty seven seconds ago. And does the satellite birth center have enough blood in the bank. On average a laboring mother may loose about...."

"Spence," Jennifer, or JJ as the man named Spencer called her, "I'm going to be just fine. The baby is going to be just fine. Please don't harass the midwife. Or I'll have to switch you out for Penny instead."

"You know if you wanted to get stuff done, you should've picked Hotch or Emily," Spencer countered, "I'm just going to be a nervous wreck."

"You're going to be fine. And think of it as practice for when your wife is pregnant. You'll be a pro by the time that rolls around."

Spencer chuckled dryly. His cheeks blushed crimson as he checked the clock. "It's now been fourteen minutes and thirty four seconds." He whispered under his breath.

"Are you and your wife expecting as well? It kinda smart for her to send you here for a dry run?" Y/N commented, making light talk with Jennifer and Spencer. Through her couple of years a midwife, she learned that many laboring parents and their companions need to have their minds occupied.

"N-no, no wife," Spencer said, his lips formed a tight smile as he looked at Y/N and then back to Jennifer, "We have a very time consuming job. Dating is hard. And family life is even harder. It’s common for many families in the BAU to end with divorce between the two partners.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Spence,” Jennifer quipped as a wave of labor pains came over her.

“I don’t mean you and Will,” Spencer backtracked, “You’re not even married to him.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes at Spencer, and Y/N got the sense that the Spencer and Jennifer shared a sibling-like relationship. It made sense, she supposed as she watched Spencer continuously checked Jennifer’s vitals. He hovered like a mother hen, but made no attempt at physical contact like the husbands usually did.

“Distract her,” Y/N whispered to Spencer, “And don’t talk about how her marriage is statistically likely to end in divorce. That’s not the way to comfort a mom that’s about to push a 8 pound baby out of her vagina.”

Spencer shut his mouth quickly, returning to Jennifer’s side. As Y/N walked out of the room, she noted that the soon to be godfather asked her if she needed anything.

***

“Y/N!” Nurse Lorraine said from her perch. “That tall kid from Room 603, the one that looks like he’s about to faint? He’s looking for you.”

Room 603? Y/N checked her chats, shuffling through the pile of laboring parents.

Ah! That would be Jennifer Jareau. And her very eager friend/co-worker/godfather of her child.

“Oh, Spencer? He’s a sweetheart. Trying to help her. He could teach those husbands a thing or too.” Y/N said, as she typed away at her computer.

“He’s not the husband?” Lorraine questioned, her tone making Y/N stop typing.

“What are you doing, Lo?” Y/N sighed with exasperation. “You’re meddling. And it’s not a cute look, I’m afraid.”

“It’s been how long since that idiot of a man dumped you for his unpaid intern? Todd? Taylor? What was his name again?”

“Tyler. He was an ass. I don’t think I’m ready to get myself back out there. He really did a number on me.” Y/N lamented. She took a sip of her third coffee of the day. It was a distraction from tearing up or worse, actually crying in front of Lorraine, the hardass nurse who makes Attendings cry.

“Y/N, honey,” Lorraine sighed, “Don’t waste your youth or your beauty on someone who doesn’t deserve it. I’m not saying that man in 603 deserves you, but he’s holding his coworker’s hand as she’s delivering a baby that’s not his. All because her boyfriend is stuck at work in New Orleans. He’s a good man. And he’s looking for you. And he blushed when he asked for you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Lorraine’s gossipy tendencies. “How do you know all that? I’ve been with him all day and I hardly can get him to tell me his name. Beside the snide comments about me not checking the vitals enough.”

“See! He’s protective over people he cares about, even if talking to the gorgeous nurse terrifies him. I can lock you two in the supply close if you’d like. I mean the piles and piles of extra large padsicles and bed pens aren’t very romantic, but maybe romance isn’t what you need right now.” Lorraine quipped.

Ignoring Lorraine, “I’m going to see what he wants from me.” Y/N said, recoiling because she knew Lorraine would twist her words into some sort of sexual innuendo.

“Go get’em, Tiger!” Lorraine called from the Nurse’s Station with a mischievous glint in her eye.

***

“Spencer?” Y/N whispered, noting that Jennifer was sleeping in her bed, “Nurse Lorraine said you wanted to speak to me.”

Even in the dark room, minus the glow of equipment monitoring Jennifer, Y/N could see his light blush. He was cute. She thought that before Lorraine even broached the subject. She though that when she silently wondered if he was Jennifer’s husband or not.

He was cute. Handsome, even.

Spencer couldn’t be more than 26 or 27. He had brown eyes that were kind and warm. Spencer looked gentle, and that was evident by the easy way he cared for Jennifer.

“I wanted to make sure I was doing it right,” Spencer confessed, “I’m not really good with all this,” he waved his hand around the room to show what he meant, “My mind can only focus on the possibilities of what can go wrong. I’m not cut out for this.”

“For what being a companion? A godfather? Spencer, Jennifer clearly cares for you and wants you in her baby’s life. She sees that you’re kind and caring and gentle.”

Spencer cracked a smile, warming Y/N heart. She hated it. Yet she liked it. And that only made her hate it more.

“Thanks.” Spencer said, taking a sip of his probably now cold coffee.

“You know there’s an excellent microwave in the nurse’s lounge room. Lorraine bullies enough attendings that I can totally sneak you in there to warm up your coffee.” Y/N offered, “Jennifer needs sleep. It’s the best thing for her right now. Besides, I can teach you how to swaddle a baby and change a diaper.”

“I know how to deliver a baby,” Spencer said, “It’s a lot messier than I thought.” He said with a shiver.

“Are you in healthcare?” Y/N asked they walked to the nurse’s lounge. It was so late that most of the families were either sleeping, in labor, or being discharged. “You certainly know a lot about medicine. And for the record we do have plenty of blood in stock. But we’re looking for donors every third Tuesday if the month.”

“Not technically. Well, not the doctor you’re thinking of at least. I have three PhDs. In mathematics, chemistry, and psychology. It’s….a lot I know,” He offered a small smile, “People either think I’m like some super genius or a freak. But not. I’m just….me.”

“Well I happen to think that you’re pretty awesome just being you. I can’t technically say it, but you and Jennifer are my favorites of the night. So it’s only my duty as a L&D nurse to make sure you are the best baby swaddling godfather in the metro area.”

“Now that’s quite the title to live up to. Do we use real babies or dolls to practice?” Spencer inquired.

Y/N giggled as she reached into the supply closet, “I’m in the business of delivering babies. Not kidnapping them, Dr. Spencer……?”

“Reid.”

“Reid.” She nodded, handing him a baby doll to practice with. “If it was twelve hours earlier I would be making you wrap my burrito to practice.”

“I think I’m going to equally as bad as wrapping a burrito as I would be a baby.” He confessed.

“Fear not, young grasshopper, your teacher is here.” Y/N teased, grabbing Spencer by the arm to the table where she ate lunch every day with Lorraine and Hector, her favorite to nurses on the floor.

She laid out a blanket and a baby on the table as her and Spencer stood side by side. “So fold the corner of the blanket down for the baby’s head to rest. And the you gently lay the baby down. Now wrap over the left triangle to the baby’s middle.” She watched as he followed expertly, “Good! Now fold up the little triangle at the baby’s feet. Make sure it’s snug, but not too tight.”

“It’s easier than it looks,” Spencer said as he folded the last part of the blanket and held up a swaddled baby doll.

“Now try when it when a baby is screaming at you and you’ve been on your feet for ten hours.”

“I’ll sit to my day job,” Spencer joked, “But call me if you ever need a swaddling partner.”

Y/N’s face heated at the thought of calling Spencer, of talking to him beyond this night when he friend was about to give birth.

“Where did you learn how to deliver a baby?” She asked, hoping to divert the conversation.

“I read about it.” Spencer replied.

“In college? Did you take a human biology class on pregnancy as well?”

“Uh, no,” Spencer said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “I read about it. I read it today when JJ was getting admitted.”

“Getting admitted takes like 30 minutes? How on Earth did you read about human delivery in 30 minutes?” Y/N asked with awe on her face.

“Actually, it took 31 minutes and twelve seconds. Which is 2 minutes and 39 seconds faster than the average,” He blushed when Y/N raised eyes meant his comment only added to her questions, not answered them, “I have a very good memory. And I can read fast.” He explained.

“Oh,” Y/N said, taking out two mugs from the cabinet, “that explains the three PhDs and how you hounded me about vitals before. You’re brilliant. And a very good friend.”

“I don’t get brilliant often. Genius, yes. Freak, yes. Strange, yes. But brilliant isn’t usually reserved for me. I think my quirks out weigh my strengths and thus that changes how I’m perceived.”

“Well, I don’t see a freak or a stranger,” Y/N told him, “I see a man who’s probably 6’3” that crammed himself into a tiny plastic chair and has been fetching ice chips and throwing down with the toughest nurse to get his friend a blanket. That’s not a freak. Or a weirdo. Or anything besides a good, gentle, kind man. I don’t really know you, but it’s my job to watch people here. I watch all these husbands who don’t dote on their wives as they push a whole baby out of their bodies. They complain to them about how long it took to find parking, or that they had to pay 10 bucks for a decent cup of coffee at the cafe, or that the chairs hurt their back. I haven’t heard you say that once. You’re good, Spencer. There’s a reason Jennifer wants you to be her baby’s godfather.”

Stunned, Spencer’s lip twitched into what resembled a smile. He bit his lip as his eyes scanned the room.

“Thank you,” Spencer whispered, “it means more than you know.”

“Good. You seem like the kind of person that deserves to hear good things. And plus, I’m sure your wife or girlfriend will be very happy you spent the night learning how to swaddle babies and change diapers.”

“Uh, I’m not committed to anyone.” Spencer corrected, the blush returned to his face, this time it crawled all the way up to his ears. It only increased his cuteness as it increased the way Y/N’s heart pumped blood. Her nervous system was on overdrive and she hasn’t even touched the man. Yet there was something about him that drew him to her.

“Oh, seeing someone casually and don’t want to freak her out?” Y/N offered. “Because I will admit that’s not what you want to say to the girl you have a situationship with.”

“A situationship?” Spencer questioned, shaking his head. “Never mind. I’m not seeing anyone casually or otherwise. It’s never been my strong suit.”

“Seriously?” Y/N said, pouring her coffee and Spencer a cup, “That’s very surprising.”

“Why?” Spencer asked, accepting the coffee with a tight lipped smile.

“Not to cross any professional boundaries, but you’re literally what most girls look for when they want a partner. Especially one that they want to you know,” she gestured to the baby doll on the table, “settle down with. You’re husband material.”

“Husband material?” Spencer asked, clearly beyond confusion. It was like it was his first time hearing that he was desirable to women. An overwhelming urge to tell him just how desirable he was to her overcame Y/N.

She fought it hard.

“You know,” she started, “you’ve got a great job, nice and normal friends, you’re close friends with a woman, but there’s zero sexual tension between the two of you. That means a lot to girls. It means that you can see women as whole people.”

“What else would I see them as?” Spencer questioned aloud. “They’re people. Not props or conquests.”

Y/N threw her hands up in surrender as if she finally has given up. “See, you’re like perfect. Not to mention you’re very nice to look at.”

Spencer gulped a big sip of coffee, but the burning liquid spewed out all over him and the table. Y/N dodged it, spending nearly three years getting out of the way of mysterious liquids from all different patients had certainly paid off.

“Sorry, sorry, god that was embarrassing,” Spencer lamented. “I hope I didn’t get it all over you.” He apologized.

Holding in a giggle, Y/N waved off his fears. “Don’t worry. You’re just fine, Spencer.”

In more ways than one, she thought silently to herself.

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. It’s highly unprofessional of me to comment on your appearance.”

No matter how attractive she finds him.

Spencer’s face melted as she apologized. “No!” He practically yelled. “Don’t think that. Please don’t think that. I didn’t mind it at all. It’s just, I’m not used to hearing it. Especially from women that are like you.”

“Like me?”

“Smart. Hardworking. Kind. Funny. Beautiful.” Spencer confessed.

The last one hit a certain part of her heart that went pang. Tyler never called her beautiful. He would call her hot and sexy, but not beautiful. But maybe once he did. But he said she “looked beautiful” not that she was beautiful.

There was a difference between looking beautiful and being beautiful. And she was looking right at it.

“Spencer,” Y/N whispered. “Once Jennifer is discharged from L&D could I maybe take you out on a date?“

Spencer nodded, and she swore she could see his eyes light up at the possibility of something between them.

“Sure. Isn’t there a blood donation clinic next week?” He smiled and took a sip of his coffee, “I promise I won’t spew coffee all over you when you compliment me again,”

***

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